Allyson Ch. 03

It was a terrible situation, but Allyson decided to make the best of it. She lost her room, her clothes, and all her status, such as it was, but she still believed in John, and if nothing else, she still believed in herself. She'd work harder than ever. She'd prove to John that she was worthy of his love.

The next couple weeks were a continuous routine of cleaning, scrubbing, washing, ironing, serving, cooking, and her weekly humiliation at the hands of an old pervert. At first she was asked to get up at 6:00 to get breakfast for John, then Hannah suggested she awaken at 5:00 so she could get an earlier start on the cleaning. She didn't argue; it wouldn't have made any difference. Lately every time she disagreed with Hannah or offered a counter suggestion she'd just go to John who always overrode anything Allyson wanted. Allyson almost never disagreed anyway. It seemed like every time she opposed anything; Hannah found new things to do that only added to her work load.

After the second week on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays Hannah would disappear shortly after John left at 7:30. She wouldn't usually get back till after 12:00, often just in time for lunch guests.

She didn't mind the morning routine so much; she was alone and could set her own pace. Often she finished ahead of schedule and found she had free time to do what she wanted, and that usually meant surfing the Internet. Every now and then she found herself skimming over the local news. There was a good local newspaper and it had a really sophisticated web site with great archives. She saw information about the law firm where John worked. She looked up stuff about the beach, the ocean tides, and local history.

Once, while scouring the web, she came across information about the local high schools. Perhaps it was her perverse nature, maybe just curiosity, but she searched the archives of the high schools for information about the Hanson boys. There was content about Aubrey's exploits in lacrosse, Wayne's 4H achievements, but mostly she found herself digging around in Paul's past. She was surprised; he really was as smart as he said he was. He'd maxed out the SATs, passed up a football scholarship for a full science scholarship at a top university, and most recently he'd been awarded additional money to attend the top research university in the country.

The article she read said he was interested in something called String Theory. She'd never heard of it so she investigated. At first she thought it was the stupidest thing she'd ever read, but after a while she found herself hunting all over the web for more information about it. Why she did that she couldn't explain. She was sure she'd never see the guy again, and even if she did, she didn't like him.

Even though she disliked him she kept looking around. Sure he was something of a nerd, but he fascinated her. One thing she noticed everywhere his name came up it dealt with something she thought was interesting. He was hateful to her, but he was interesting too.

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The afternoons were bad. She had to wear the black outfit. Hannah was always home, and many times there were guests.

Hannah had a way about her, a new approach to everything that drove Allyson to distraction. Gone were the days of joint work and cooperative enterprise. Teamwork had degenerated to Hannah inspections followed by Allyson redo's. Once upon a time Allyson remembered feeling guilty when Hannah had some chore she couldn't help with; since the new regime with Hannah in control there was no guilt; only added chores for Allyson, chores that were piled on remorselessly in that ever so sickly sweet manner only Hannah could deliver.

Hannah's complaints all always sounded the same, "Oh Allyson if you could have heard John last night. He's so unhappy. You know how he likes his towels neatly folded in thirds with ironed creases down the front. Can't you just be a little more thorough? I know you're busy, I don't think it's asking a lot. Do you?" or "Oh Allyson you're such a ninny. You know how John likes everything spic and span. You simply must move out the refrigerator and clean underneath every time you do the kitchen floor."

And Allyson's responses had become as predictable as the rain, "oh I'm sorry I forgot he meant the hand towels too." Or "I so sorry Hannah. I'm so silly. I just missed the frig last week. It won't happen again, I promise."

One afternoon she almost broke down. Hannah had arranged a late lunch. Mrs. Hanson, two other women Allyson had never seen before, and a fourth person she'd invited had come to discuss some charity. What startled Allyson was the fourth guest was none other than the young woman she'd met at the beach. She remembered her name was Lauren.

Lauren was surprised to see Allyson working as a maid, especially in such a ridiculous get up. She figured Allyson for a school teacher or graduate student, never somebody's maid. Worse, it seemed throughout virtually the entire luncheon Mrs. Hanson and Hannah went out of their way to do what she felt was a malicious and vicious number on the woman. Between the gooey requests and smarmy comments it drove her to distraction. She watched Allyson, and felt sorry for her. In fact she could tell Allyson spent most of the afternoon on the edge of tears, and would have let go too if Lauren hadn't intervened.

Lauren, found a propitious moment and asked Allyson to show her where the bathroom was. Thankful for any opportunity to get away from the greasy inferences Allyson was only too glad to show Lauren the powder room.

Lauren's request was Heaven sent. She remembered what followed with joy.

Allyson led Lauren to the bathroom. No sooner had they gotten out of sight of the other women Lauren pulled her to the side, "I know you remember me Allyson. Do you want to tell me what this is all about?"

Allyson replied, "It's nothing really."

"Oh yes it is. I know Mrs. Hanson. I've never seen her behave like this. Why is she doing this? And what has Hannah got to do with it?"

Allyson almost cracked, but held herself together, "I can't talk. But if you see Paul, he'll tell you."

"He knows something?"

"Just tell him he's prescient." The she started to cry, "Oh Lauren."

Lauren got her some Kleenex and held her, "Calm down. Whatever it is, things will work out. They always do."

Allyson sniffled some, wiped her eyes, and tried to smile, "I have to get back."

Lauren smiled, "I don't know what's wrong, I do know Paul likes you. And for you, I couldn't think of a better ally."

Allyson had recovered, "Thanks Lauren."

They both returned to the dining room. For the remaining forty-five minutes Mrs. Hanson, abetted by Hannah, continued to needle Allyson in that way only a middle aged woman understood. However, it no longer had any effect; Allyson had Lauren.

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Allyson's refusal to say anything, and her subtle observations regarding the interplay between Paul's mother, Hannah, and Allyson for the rest of the afternoon more than piqued Lauren's curiosity. She knew something distinctly malevolent was going on. The very next day she was on her cell setting up a talking date with Paul. Two days after that he and she met at one of the local eateries.

Lauren asked, "Do you know where Allyson works?"

Paul understood immediately, "You've been there?"

"Are you kidding? The poor woman's trapped in a house of horrors. She's tough though. I couldn't get anything out of her, but she said you knew."

Paul stretched out his arms, "Allyson is supposed to be the fiancé, but as a result of Hannah's manipulations, and John's perversions she's lost a lot of ground."

"I'll say. When I was there they treated her like a slave, and that uniform."

"What uniform?"

"They've got her dressed like a French Maid, tight white collar, stiff cuffed sleeves, miniskirt with petticoats, patent leather shoes. I was embarrassed just watching. I know she hates it, but you know what? I don't think she's going to do anything about it."

Paul stretched again, "They've got her over a barrel. She got caught speeding while under the influence. She's been seeing some probation officer, and I think they've frightened her into thinking she'll go to jail if she doesn't cooperate." He paused, "That's not the worst of it. She thinks she's in love with that guy John."

Lauren, having had a few bad driving experiences herself, and a father in the legal system asked, "Who does she have? I mean who's her probation officer?"

"I don't know. She won't let me near."

"You like her don't you Paul."

"I guess so."

"I think you do."

"Yeah, I guess you're right, but she can't stand me."

"Paul I think, unless she's some kind of really sick masochist, she's in a pretty terrible place. You might be her only chance."

"What do you want me to do?"

"Nothing right now; let me find out who her probation person is first. Maybe we can get her out of the mess without you."

"Gee, thanks a lot Lauren."

"No, I mean, if you think she doesn't like you then why would she tell me to ask you? She wants help, but I think she's either too afraid or too proud to ask."

"You've got me worried Lauren. I ought to do something."

"Why don't you pump some information out of your mother? The way she behaved the other day was completely, I mean completely, out of character."

"OK."

Lauren and Paul spent the rest of the afternoon talking about nonsense, but both knew they had a mission. The problem was neither knew exactly what the mission was.

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At John's house Allyson's situation continued to deteriorate. John, more entangled with Hannah than ever, became more and more inclined to see Allyson as nothing other than an object. His behavior began with a subtle shift from indifference to outright obnoxiousness. In fact, if one were a first time observer, a figurative fly on the wall, one would have gotten the impression he'd become borderline sadistic. The evening meals and late evening rest times had become a remorseless experiment in degradation.

From Allyson's perspective she watched as things went from bad to worse. Yet there were some evenings that were especially unpleasant; evenings that led to new heartbreaking traditions.

Allyson's morning, daytime, and evening responsibilities had become a grueling round robin of work, service, and pandering. It got to be so debilitating that, on several occasions; she was so tired she slept through her morning alarm. This apparent lack of dedication led John to indirectly complain to Hannah. Hannah took the problem to Allyson.

Hannah introduced the problem and solution with what had become her standard opening line, "Allyson John is discouraged with you."

"I know," replied the typically exhausted Allyson, "Sometimes I'm so tired I miss the morning alarm."

"I'm sorry you're so tired, but we just can't let John down like this."

Allyson sensed Hannah was about to lower the boom with something, "I'm sorry, I'll try to do better."

"John and I have talked it over. We've agreed sometimes promises just aren't enough. You need some kind of helper."

For a moment Allyson thought she was going to get an assistant. She was about to be proven terribly wrong.

"John and I have decided you need a special helper, your own little motivator."

"I could always use the help."

Hannah picked up the tentative sarcasm. She was glad she'd decided against a real assistant; glad she'd gone the route she'd taken, "We've purchased something for you that we think will be a big help."

Allyson was a little tremulous but curious nonetheless, "Really? What?"

Hannah pulled from her pocket a small box, "It's a small piece of jewelry."

Allyson said nothing while Hannah opened the container, "It's what the jeweler called an alert necklace." She held the object out so Allyson could see it.

Allyson immediately recognized what it was; a small shock collar normally used when training dogs, "You want me to wear that?"

"It's pretty isn't it, and look, here in the back there's a tiny metallic hemisphere, it's a little electronic thing. Let's try it on."

Allyson involuntarily pulled away, but Hannah grabbed her arm and held her, "Come on Allyson this is a good idea. Lean forward."

"Hannah no,"

"No what. This is good. It will serve as a gentle reminder each morning that you need to get up. Come let's put it on. I want to see if it fits."

Allyson knew she was defeated. She leaned forward.

Since Allyson's hair was already up in a bun it was easy to put the collaring device on. Hannah opened it up, reached around so that it encircled Allyson's neck and snapped it shut. Then from the small box she extracted a tiny bolt and a minute wrench. She placed the bolt into a tiny set of connecting hinges found at the back of the collar and tightened it in with the wrench. There it was, no locks and no keys, just a miniscule hinge that bound the thin metal collar around her neck just as surely as if it had been heated and hammered in place with an iron weld. And in the front was a small metal ring, hanging from the ring was a delicate little metal circle about the size of a dime, and on the circle was inscribed her name, Allyson.

Hannah put her hands on Allyson's shoulders and gently pushed her back so that she was sitting up and back just a few inches. She looked from side to side, "There, now that's pretty." She reached down and picked up a mirror she had conveniently placed on a nearby table, "Here look honey."

Hannah held the mirror in front of Allyson so she could see the collar as it encircled her neck, "Beautiful isn't it."

Allyson was on the edge of tears. She shuddered slightly. The collar was too tight. It looked like a metal dog collar. She looked up at Hannah, and could see from the expression on her face Hannah knew what she was feeling, "Take it off."

"Oh no, let's leave it on. We'll let John see it tonight, and tomorrow morning I'll set an alarm that will trigger a tiny, oh so tiny electric charge. It will serve as a very soft and gentle reminder to wake up."

Allyson took her hand and put her fingers on the offending collar. She felt all the way around. She couldn't tell where the hinge was that held the thing in place. It was locked on, and until Hannah or John decided, it would stay there. Helplessly she asked, "Why are you doing this to me?"

Hannah gave her a warm, but condescending smile, "Now Allyson. This is for John."

Tears edging out of the corners of her eyes, fingers around her neck on the front of the collar, Allyson whispered, "I have ironing to do."

Hannah leaned over and kissed her cheek, "OK, run along."

Allyson got up and fled to the back of the house.

As she scampered off, Hannah called after her, "Bye now, see you this afternoon. We have more company."

They did have company that afternoon. One of Hannah's guests was the girl Allyson had met at the beach.

That evening, as soon as John got home, Hannah asked Allyson to come into the living room and show him her new jewelry. John looked it over thoughtfully. He felt it, and remarked that it looked not only pretty but functional. He hoped this would be an inducement for Allyson to get out of bed more promptly in the morning.

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The next morning, about 4:50 Allyson was jolted out of bed by a powerful shock that started at the back of her neck and traveled up and down her spine. Startled she leaped from the bed. She rushed to the bathroom. The first thing she tried to do was remove the offending collar, but like the evening before, she soon found there was no escape. The collar was hinged and bolted into place, and would remain so until John or Hannah decided otherwise.

A few minutes later her regular alarm clock went off. She turned it off, hurriedly showered, dried and fixed her hair, slipped on her work panties and chemise, zipped up her light blue morning work uniform, slipped on her shoes and socks and went to the kitchen. In less than five minutes she was downstairs preparing John's breakfast. She spent the rest of the time waiting for John fearful lest she get another shock. The little electronic device on her collar had done its work.

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Her weekly visits to the judge had become a torment in their own right. Since Hannah believed going to the judge's in any kind of uniform was inappropriate, she'd bought additional material and made Allyson an outfit just for her probation sessions.

Since Hannah knew what the judge was up to she made an outfit that gave the old man ready access to every aspect of Allyson's body. It was a simple pullover one piece white mini-dress, elasticized empire waist, scooped neck, short sleeved, with matching panties, white socks and shoes. Of course, to further Allyson's self-conscious feelings of inadequacy Hannah added delicate ruffled trim to translucent capped sleeves, hem, and neckline.

When the judge first saw her in the little white dress he was delighted. He could keep Allyson on her knees on the floor where he could fondle her breasts while she undid his pants, or he would require her to lie face up upon his lap where he was able to pull down her panties and pet her private area. Once, on a whim, he decided to punish her by making her lie over his knee while he pulled down her panties and spanked her bare behind.

Being an older man erections were few and far between. It had become Allyson's weekly responsibility to arouse the old man enough to ejaculate. The longer it took her to satisfy him, the harder it was for her emotionally to be able to explain away what she was being forced to do.

To worsen her circumstances Hannah had noticed after their first visit with the judge there had been a sticky white stain on Allyson's pretty outfit. Now with the white mini-dress those tiny stains weren't so noticeable. Still she insisted Allyson wash the dress out after each session, often deriding her for her failure to keep her clothes clean. Hannah most certainly knew the only way Allyson could avoid the stains on the dress was to either swallow the offending fluid that was released in her mouth or hold it in her mouth until she could find a pace to spit it out.

Allyson for her part usually ended up swallowing. Holding the old man's sticky goo in her mouth, lolling it around with her tongue between her teeth for twenty minutes was just too much.

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John had become particularly fond of keeping Allyson on her knees kneeling at his feet in the evenings while he either watched television or read some sheath of papers related to some legal proceeding. One evening he nonchalantly unzipped his pants and pulled Allyson toward his man's package. She had no illusions about what was expected, and though she hated it she realized she'd started another new evening tradition.

After the first night John seldom pulled open his fly himself preferring to make some general comment about the stress of the day or his need for relaxation. Those phrases became Allyson's signal to lean up and do another of what had become one of her many degrading little chores.

One late afternoon John came home earlier than usual; he went to his office, and called for Allyson. Since she'd just finished putting things away after another of Hannah's long afternoon meetings she was able to immediately respond.

John was at his desk. It was a large mahogany piece of furniture he bought when they'd first moved in. At the time he said it would become his power desk. Allyson had no idea at the time of purchase just what kind of power it would turn out to be.

John called Allyson in, and pointed to the crawl space under the desk top. He signaled he wanted her there at his feet so he might caress her head and fiddle with her hair while he worked. Allyson understood what the real intent was.