Shakespeare wrote: "What's in a name?

That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet. "

When I first met her, she was Blanche, Blanche Rousseau.

I assumed she was somewhat of a recluse spinster caring for her elderly bedridden father.

At least that was the consensus of most of my neighbors.

I lived in the house directly across the street from Blanche.

I found out later that it was encumbered upon by lien after lien.

Although bedridden at the time of his death, Mr. Rousseau was a mean, abusive bastard.

Before his wife died, Mr. Rousseau was a very successful businessman.

His family wanted for nothing and he gave his wife and daughters everything, including himself.

The Rousseau's were a well-liked and respected family.

Mr. Rousseau was a Deacon in his Church.

The family attended Mass every Sunday.

After his wife's death, Benedict Rousseau denounced his faith.

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Alcohol became his sacrament . . . then, his damnation.

I moved there after he was bedridden and knew of him by reputation only.

Never married, Blanche was promised the house after he died.  

Sadly, for all intent and purposes, Blanche was left with nothing for all her sacrifices.

This sweet, passive lady had no formal education beyond high school.

Blanche worked part time on weekends delivering the local penny saver to get spending money.

Although Blanche was left the house in her father's will.

Everything else was left to her younger sister, Clarette.

Clarette and her latest boyfriend removed everything of value from the house.

They even took Blanche's bed and dresser.

They dumped Blanche's meager clothing to the floor, trampling them as they carried the furniture out.

.

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They backed a rented moving van up to the house while we were at the wake.  

Blanche and I were the only attendees.

Clarette never attended her father's wake or funeral.

I lived next door to Blanche for almost a year and never talked to her until the night when. . . . . . . . . . . .

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I was washing 2 weeks accumulation of dirty dishes when the doorbell rang.  

I answered the back door off of the kitchen and saw Blanche standing there.  

It was obvious that she had been crying.

Blanche's eyes were red and puffy.

I invited her in and sat her down at the kitchen table.

"May I get you something Miss Rousseau? 

Coffee, tea. .

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Blanche was sitting with her face in her hands, not answering.

"Are you ill?

Did something happen?"  

Miss Rousseau, Blanche. . . . I called her Blanche then.

I called her Blanche when I hired her as my live in housekeeper/maid.

I changed her name when she became my submissive lover.

"My father died this morning. "

Blanche said hoarsely.

She started coughing, trying to clear her throat.

I brought her a glass of ice water and made her sip it slowly.

Then I put the teakettle on to boil.

Chamomile tea with honey and lemon would be just the thing to sooth her raw throat.

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When the tea was ready, I brought her a cup and sat down across from her with mine.

I put my hand on top of hers.

"Take a deep breath and sip your tea.

Good, take your time and calm yourself. " 

It was obvious that Blanche was hoarse from crying.

I held her hand while we sipped our tea, neither of us saying anything.

Although a bachelor, I am a man who enjoys looking at women.  

My first passion is for fishing.  

My occupation, I build custom fishing rods for a living.

I am a stickler for details, striving for perfection.

I specialize in split bamboo.

My prices for bamboo start ay $2500. 00 per rod.  

I build no more then 25 rods a year.

I require a 75% deposit upon placing an order and the average waiting time per bamboo rod is two years.

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I also will fabricate oak & leather hard carrying cases for any of my rods to the purchaser's preference.

As we sipped our tea I studied her, taking in the smallest details.  

Blanche's face is heart shaped with a nice little turned up nose.

She has a marvelous creamy completion with dimples in her cheeks.

Miss Rousseau has full generous, inviting lips.

And when she smiles. . . certainly not then, and not often at first. . . . but now. . .

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Dark brown eyes, little puppy dog eyes with such long eyelashes and perfect, precious little ears.

Blanche was five foot-five inches tall.  

A slim petite woman, no more then 110 pounds if that.  

Her figure was perfect for her small frame, round full breasts and a cute little round ass.

I believe the correct terminology is that Blanche has a small frame.

Blanche had small graceful hands.

Beautiful hands with long fingers, the type of beautiful hands one sees in advertising for hand cream.

As I was holding her hand, I was thinking a shame that she bites her fingernails.

This is in to way a put down, especially when taking into consideration her circumstances.  

Blanche's clothing although clean was threadbare, possibly second hand.

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It appeared she no real sense of style, so unlike Laura my friend David's wife, or Samantha.

Blanche wore glasses.

The frames of her eyeglasses made of black plastic.

They were broken at the bridge, then amateurishly glued back together

They were too large and the wrong style for her pretty heart shaped face.    

Blanche was not wearing them that night.

They were hanging from her neck on a rhinestone eyeglass cord that was missing three stones.

The only jewelry of any quality that I could see was a fine 1. 5 mm diamond cut sterling silver rope chain.   

Blanche's mother's platinum wedding band was hanging on that chain.

As well as her birthright, a flawless, blood red 3- carat heart cut ruby.

The ruby was mounted in a solitaire platinum ring and was nestled between her pert breasts next to the wedding band.

Blanche had her father convinced that he pawned them while on a drunken binge.

Blanche later confided with me that she hid them from her father so that he couldn't pawn them.

"Mom promised me the ruby before she died, Adam 

The ruby was always to go to the eldest daughter. "

Mom inherited the ruby from Grandma, who in turn, inherited from her mother.

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This is a tradition from mother to daughter for as long as anyone can remember. "

As I sat with Blanche, I remembered that it was her hair that I noticed when I first moved here.

I saw Blanche from a distance riding her bicycle to work.

Her hair was pure silver white in a thick solitary braid down her back, as it was styled now.  

At first, I assumed she was an older woman, perhaps in her sixties with a wonderful figure and graceful movements.

Although shabbily dressed, and wearing black frame glasses on a rhinestone cord.

I was intrigued with that old woman, or so I thought her old at first glance.

As I said, I am a man who enjoys looking at women; therefore I watched for her return.

And return she did;  "Curious & Curiouser" said Alice (she was so much surprised).

This popped into my head when I saw Blanche's youthful face.

I was much surprised and pleasantly so.  

I contemplated, why in the world of all things did that thought pop into my head just then?

Alice in Wonderland, Lewis Carroll. . . what nonsense I am thinking.

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On the other hand, I would love to Tweedle Dee her little twat, and then, Tweedle Dum her little bum.

Now that's more like it! 

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I walked back into my house grinning like the "Cheshire Cat. "

Blanche was the first to speak

"I don't know what to do.

I could tell from her expression that she was starting to cry.

My sister won't help me and Clarette is demanding. . . "

"Slowdown. "  I interrupted, gently squeezing her hand.

"Start from the beginning, Blanche. . . . may I call you Blanche, Miss Rousseau? 

Blanche wiped her tears with her hand, and nodded, yes.

"My name is Adam and I will help you anyway I can. "

We called the county coroner.

Afterwards her father was taken to a funeral home for a one-day viewing.

Fortunately we were able to bury her father next to her mother in their family plot.  

Her mother preceded her father by 23 years.

During all that time that bastard never bought a headstone for his wife.

Between the cost of the funeral and the headstone, I paid out over nine thousand dollars.

Not that I am Saint by any means, but this was the right thing to do.

The creditors foreclosed on the house two weeks after the funeral.

Blanche and I came to an agreement.

She would work for me as my live-in housekeeper/ maid.

Blanche would receive room and board.

In addition, she would receive a small weekly stipend: twenty-five dollars for spending money.

We set up a payment plan.

Blanche would satisfy my loan to her in eighteen months.

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If she decided to stay on we would renegotiate a salary.

Blanche moved in with two plastic garbage bags of clothing, plus four large cardboard boxes of books.

I kept it to myself, but I was outraged.  

I can't put it into words without using the vilest, most explicit profanity.  

Such was the contempt that I held for her selfish, mercenary sister, Clarette.

In retrospect: It made me all the more protective of Blanche. . . well, so much for minding my own business.

Blanche was my housekeeper/maid for 6 months.

I suppose that she grieved for her father in her own way.

Considering how he treated her. . . .

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Blanche was smiling more often now.

I had not heard her crying in her room for weeks.

I discovered that I could tolerate having a woman underfoot.

The house was certainly much neater and cleaner.

As a matter of fact, it was spotless.

There were no more dishes piling up in the sink.

The hardest thing was learning to share our one bathroom.

Blanche scolded me for leaving the seat up, but she was right, so I started leaving it down.

Blanche's bedroom is across from mine and is the largest bedroom of the four rooms upstairs.

Originally half the size, the previous owner removed the wall separating them.

This made one very large room out of two good-sized ones.

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Not that I have many overnight guests, but I furnished this room quite lavishly as a guest bedroom.

This room had a queen size poster bed with bedside tables on both sides.

I furnished it with brass hurricane lamps on each table.

I included a secretary's desk, vanity table- with attached mirror and matching chair.  

There are three large dressers, a rocking chair with a matching footstool placed near one of the windows.

I included a tiffany floor lamp beside the rocker for reading at night, plus a small round table near both for books or whatever.

Unfortunately, this room had no closet.

I included two large floor to ceiling wardrobes with mirrors on the inside doors.

It should be noted that all the mentioned furniture is of black walnut.

After six months, Blanche's books were still in the boxes on her bedroom floor.

I decided to surprise her by putting some barrister bookcases in her bedroom while she was out.

I have a friend, David Ares who builds furniture and restores antiques.

David was sure to locate some bookcases to match the bedroom furniture, and I was right.

David arrived with his wife Laura while Blanche was out of the house.

Wednesdays are Blanche's days off.

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Normally she stays in her bedroom and reads or is in and out of my garage workshop just watching me work.

Often she will just sit on a tall stool near the window with a book keeping me company.

Blanche is not allowed to talk while I am working so that I will not be distracted.

On this Wednesday, I gave her specific instructions that I needed to be alone and sent her away for the day.

David helped me carry the bookcase sections upstairs.

We rearranged the furniture while Laura unpacked the books and filled the bookcases once they were stacked in place.

Most of the books were dog-eared paperback romances, at least the books on top.

The books on the bottom hidden from view were books on the subject of Erotica and Erotica Novels.

They just looked at one another smiling, the non-verbal message understood only by them; two people most intimate.

For a second I was jealous. . . . and then they looked at me, nodding and smiling.

"Why are you both looking at me like that?

Are you going to tell me or is it some big secret?"

"When are we going to meet her?" 

Laura asked.

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"You want to meet my housekeeper?" 

I asked, feigning obtuse.

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Now who is keeping secrets. "?

David offered.

Changing the subject I said.

"How about lunch it is on me. "

"Make it Indian and you have a deal. "

David agreed.

During lunch at "Little India", Dave and I talked about our upcoming weekend fishing trip.

Laura was unusually quiet and I noticed her studying me, a thoughtful look on her face.  

I also noticed her frequently touching her silver shell shaped locket.

I believe it was scallop shell.

During lunch I got another strange look, then Laura smiled at me

I'll be damned if I knew what for.

At least the subject of me being single did not come up.

Laura was always trying to fix me up with a nice girl.

When she and her friend Marie got together, watch out! 

I was in my workshop when Blanche arrived home.

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I looked up and she was standing in the doorway studying me.

I noticed that she had unbraided her hair and it fell well past her ass in silver white waves.  

This was the first time that I had seen her hair out of her braid.

"Hello Blanche how was your day?"

"I want to thank you for the bookcase, Adam. "  

"You are welcome, I hope you like it. " 

"The bookcase is very nice.

But, I want to really thank you. "

Blanche took a step forward.  

I put my plane down and walked over to her.

I held out my hand for her to shake but Blanche shook her head; No.  

I stepped closer to her waiting to see what she would do.

Taking a step back, then hesitantly stepping forward, Blanche got up on her toes.  

She put her hands on my shoulders and gave me a quick kiss on the mouth.

I was rewarded with the most precious red blush that spread across her pretty face.

"I'll be in my room if you need me.

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She said, turning and quickly walking away.

"Blanche?" 

She turned to look.   "Yes, Adam. "

"I will join you in a minute. "

I said, smiling and winking.

I really shouldn't have teased her like that, but the look on her face was priceless, and the next blush was better then the first.  

I continued smiling and wiping my hands on the shop towel, watching her squirm.  

"Did you eat, Blanche?"

"No, I was going to fix myself something.

"Can I make something for you?"

"I'll split a large pizza with you.  

I like mine with Italian sausage and anchovies if that's OK with you?"

"That would be nice, I'll pay for half. "

Blanche offered, looking relieved and smiling.  

"Order it then, I will go pick it up while you set the table.   

I have something I want to talk to you about. "

When I returned with our pizza, I was not surprised that Blanche braided her hair again.

We sat in the kitchen and ate our pizza with a wonderful tossed salad that she made, and we drank root beer.

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Blanche loves root beer.  

"I have decided that you will wear a uniform when working.   

One must strive to be their best whatever their chosen profession, however temporary.

As your employer, I will of course defer the costs. " 

"But. . . . "

She started to say.

"No buts, I am speaking to you as your employer now.  

I will broach no insubordination.

Do I make myself clear?"

Blanche just nodded, looking down.

"Look at me when I am talking to you, Miss Rousseau. " 

"Yes, of course, whatever you think best, Sir.

Blanche replied, looking into my eyes.

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"Good, it is settled then.

I will be going fishing this weekend with a friend.

I will be leaving early Friday and returning Sunday evening.  

I will leave you with my cell phone number to call in case of an emergency. "

"Tomorrow I will take you to purchase your uniforms. "

I reached across the table and put my hand on hers.

"I'm telling you this as Adam.

You have a sweet smile and adorable dimples.

There you see, one here and one here. "

I reached up and touched each of her cheeks with my hand.

"You really need to smile more often.

Thank you for the kiss.  

It is always a pleasure to be kissed by a pretty woman.

Particularly one that blushes so nice, see you are doing it now. "

In the morning we went to a store catering to women's professional wear.

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I selected three short sleeve housekeeping dresses in basic black that fell just above her knees.

The dresses were styled with concealed buttons with a single top button and white lapels plus white angle cut cuffs.

I also purchased half a dozen white rounded maids aprons, plus 6 pairs of white pantyhose.

I also bought her two pairs of black walking shoes and two plain cotton bras.

Now I knew all of Blanche's sizes.

Before we left the uniform store, I made her go to the dressing room to change into her uniform.

Then I sent her to wait for me by the truck.

I made a call on my cell phone to a woman that I had an affair with.

I was the bogeyman to her un-committed lover for whom Samantha wanted a promise.

We succeeded in making Grace jealous and I was invited to their small private ceremony.

"Samantha, this is David. . . . .

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Now for the reason that I am calling, I need a favor.

I need to make an appointment to have my maid's eyes examined. . . . .

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One other thing, what are you wearing. . . . you need to change.

I want you to put your hair up. . . why, you are gong to love this. .

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Blanche was standing by the passenger door waiting for me to unlock it.

"You look very professional in your new uniform Miss Rousseau. " 

"Thank you sir. "

Leaning closer, I said softly.

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"You are also a very pretty woman, especially when you smile and I love your dimples.  

Therefore, I am taking you out for lunch and I will not take no for an answer. "

"May I first ask you a question, Sir?"

"You certainly may, Blanche. " 

"Technically, I am supposed to be working.  

I should be preparing your lunch, correct?"

"Yes, technically you are correct. " 

"Then what type of lunch are you taking me on?"

"I will show you. "

"Turn around.

Now stand straight with your hands folded in front of you.

Very good. "

I took her thick silky silver white braid in my hand and stroked it, gauging its weight and thickness.  

I knew there was some women whose hair started to turn gray or white at an early age.

Most of these women dyed theirs.  

Blanche's hair was very soft and thick and obviously well cared for.

Her braid tapered at the bottom.

No doubt a good cut was in order.

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When I cut it, another mental knot, binding her in submission to me.  

I loved the color of her hair. I found it to be quite exotic.

I planned on cutting her hair myself. . . . her soon to be lover.

Cutting her hair. . . . intimate and erotic. . .

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This thought was so delicious, that I could hardly wait.  

As a fisherman and rod builder, I am more then familiar with ropes and knots, wrappings, bindings or braids.  

The possibilities of her submission to me: a bookcase full of possibilities.

The maid uniform was the first mental knot. . . now for the second.

I started to take her hair out of her braid

"Adam what are you doing?

You can't. . . " 

"Hush, I'm almost finished. " 

I smoothed her silver white waves of hair down her back and buttocks.

I received no further protests, nor did she try and move away.

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Reaching around her waist, I took her small hands in mine.

I gently brought them behind her back and held them in place with my left.

At six-two and weighing 175 lbs. I can easily overpower Blanche.   

I have watched her work, moving furniture to clean and she is quite strong for her size.  

I admire her for that.

Nevertheless this maneuver illustrated the fact without hurting her.

"When you are technically working, I have decided that you will put your hair up in a nice bun or chignon. "

Now that you are dressed properly, a long braid however beautiful is not in keeping with your new prim and proper image. "

"Do you really think my hair is beautiful, Adam?" 

Blanche asked hopefully as I stroked her waves with my right hand.

"Your hair is not only beautiful, I find the color to be very exotic.  

The color of a sweet white rose.

As is the meaning and origin of your name, Blanche: French for "white".

I let go of her hands and Blanche turned to face me.

Her long hair naturally falling in a center part, now that it is was loose and unbound.

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"Are you asking me out on a date, Adam?

"That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.

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I said bowing with a flourish, then offering her my arm.

"I accept!"

Blanche smiled and took my arm.

During lunch, I told her about her eye appointment with Dr. Sam.

"You really could use some new glasses, Blanche.

I will purchase three pairs for you.

One of the 3 pairs will be a polarized sunglass, and the other two will have changeable lenses.

I was thinking something in a metal frames.

Consider it part of your paid eye plan.

I have made all the arrangements for you.

Dr. Sam is the expert and will fit you perfectly and stylishly, trust me. "

Samantha, Dr. Sam was a board certified optometrist.

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Sam is a large woman, plus sized with a round voluptuous figure.

Sam is an inch taller than I and we probably weigh close the same.

She is a true alpha female.

Sam is a strong willed dominant woman with her submissive lover, but feminine and sexy as hell.

I met her on a trout stream of all places.  

Sam is the only one of two people to receive one of my custom bamboo rods as a gift.

The other person receiving a rod was David.

I have also made Sam split bamboo switches with mahogany reel seats and cork handles.

She will apply to her submissive lover's buttocks, never in anger only to discipline.

I also know that Sam loves Grace and theirs is a consensual relationship.

Both of us are the dominants, as Grace and Blanche are submissive.  

We have much to talk about during our Tuesday luncheon dates, besides fishing and fly tying.

There was a special event that brought us closer together intellectually and emotionally; an unspoken oath sealed with blood.

It happened almost a year before I met my sweet Rose.

One Sunday, Samantha telephoned me.

"Adam, I have a proposition for you, what do you say to a Ménage a trois, you, Grace and I? 

Tonight's the night.  

I want to share it with you, for agreeing to help me make her jealous.

Grace is ready to submit to me totally.

She is such a luscious little morsel, and now will be molded to my will. "

"Does Grace know I am coming?" 

"No she does not. It will be a surprise.

"Grace will show you the proper respect, or else! " 

Then Samantha explained the script to me over the telephone.

When I arrived, Samantha was wearing a black silk kimono, with lacey black panties and matching bra underneath.

Sam's long silky raven black hair is the same color as mine.

Normally it is unbound when we have sex, falling just below her shoulder blades.

This evening, it was now in a high ponytail.

Her makeup, quite sultry: purple eye shadow with silver sparkles, silver eyeliner, and purple lipstick.

"Here is your kimono Adam. "

Sam handed me one exactly like hers, along with a black silk men's brief.  

"Would you like a switch, Adam?"

 "No thank you, I prefer my good right hand.

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I answered honestly.

After I dressed, I sat down while she fixed my hair.

Nothing outrageous; as a prelude to sex, she always enjoyed greasing my hair and combing it straight back.

This was a small concession on my part.

Our love making always started with oral sex.

The hair grease was what she used to grease her fingers to lubricate her anus, and my penis.  

I performed anal sex while she played with herself.

Oral and anal were all I was allowed to give her.

Samantha would never allow me vaginal intercourse.

However, I got marvelous blowjobs.

Samantha would put her hair up in a bun for me to take down.

I would remove the hairpins to play with her long silky ponytail.

Then, finally out of the ponytail loose and unbound.

I loved playing with her long hair, Sam's concession to me.

Samantha is very vain about her hair.

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"Now for your makeup. "

Sam announced, holding up a tube of pink lipstick.

"When pigs have wings," I said laughing.

Samantha just gave me such an odd look.

We went to Sam's bedroom, the thick carpeting muffling our footsteps.

I observed that Grace was sitting on a backless barstool with her hands secured behind her back with pink rope.

Pink rope secured Grace's legs to the stool.

Grace had on a pink silk scarf for her blindfold.

Grace is about the same height as Rose, and in her mid-twenties.

She has a very slim boyish figure with breasts the size of small apples and hardly any ass.

Grace is rather plain, although with makeup and the right clothing nice to look at.  

Her two best features are her golden blond hair and blue eyes; eyes the color of blue turquoise.  

Samantha confided to me that Grace is very vain about her hair, constantly fussing with it.  

"I know I am somewhat fussy myself with my hair, Adam.

But Grace takes it to the extreme.

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I have spent a fortune on Grace for hair care products.

Some she has used only once and then throws away. "

"I have to bribe my stylist to cut Grace's hair, and that is just for a trim the ends.

My stylist Mandy is the best that there is.  

Grace always finds fault with Mandy's best efforts.

The water is to hot or to cold.

Not enough shampoo, to much shampoo. . . . you get the picture I am sure. "

Grace was wearing a frilly pink teddy and matching pink panties.

Shocking pink lipstick, makeup lightly applied.

Grace's long fingernails were colored the same shocking pink as her lips.

Sam spoiled Grace almost to the extreme.

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Samantha just about gave in to Grace's every whim, and that was about to change.

I could feel myself getting hard, looking forward to the part I was too play.

I was to remain silent for the moment, letting Grace think that she and Sam were alone.

Samantha walked and stroked Grace's long golden blond hair, wrapping her finger around one of the long ringlet curls.

Normally, Grace's hair is straight and smooth almost reaching her slim waist.

Tonight, her hair styled in luscious ringlet curls caressing her back.

"What is your purpose in life, Grace?

"To love and serve you Mistress. "

"What else?"

Sam lifted Grace's chin with her switch

"To obey you in all things and to serve and obey all dominants. " 

"Do you swear to obey me in all things as is witnessed by your Master?"

Sam asked.

Grace paused, not answering right away.

I am sure that Grace thought Sam misspoke and meant to say Mistress.  

This was quite clever on Sam's part.

"I so swear Mistress. "

"What are you my dear?"

Samantha asked.

"I am a cunt.

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I am your little cunt Mistress and I must learn to be a good girl. "

Samantha leaned in and kissed her mouth long and deep.

"You have been behaving like a spoiled brat, but that will change little cunt.

You will no longer be rude to Adam or refer to him as the Bogeyman.

I do not share your prejudice towards men.  

You have much to unlearn from college. "

Sam said sternly and grabbing Grace's curls and tugging for emphasis.

"I will no longer tolerate your jealous behavior towards him, Grace. "

Adam is very special to me. "

Sam said, touching my cheek with her hand.

That was not in the scrip.

I took Sam's hand and squeezed.

"You must learn to accept him and take what he has to offer. "

Sam told her, and looking at me knowingly.

"You will apologize to him and address him as he tells you.

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I am sure that he will forgive you. . . . if you please him.

Then I will determine your punishment and he will carry it out. "

"Now, again in regard to men, and particularly in regard to Adam.

From this moment forward your will no longer use your saucy mouth and sharp tongue to criticize Adam

You will use them to compliment and celebrate his manhood as do I. "

"Do you understanding what I am telling you Grace?" 

"Yes Mistress. " "Grace answered impatiently.

Are you going to make love to me now?

I am so horny, please untie me now Mistress. "

Grace said, starting to tug at her bonds.

"Do you love me Grace?" 

"Yes, Sam. . .

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"Hush dear one. I love you as well. "

I was touched; it was obvious to me that they did love on another.

I was so used to thinking inside the box.

There are many ways to show love and affection.

Grace's total surrender for one: We all have our prejudices.

"And we will certainly make love this evening. .

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Sam said, letting go of her golden curls, and kissing her mouth.

"I don't understand. . . . " Grace started to say.

I interrupted by pulling her head back by her hair and kissing her mouth saying.

"The Bogeyman is here you spoiled little brat; beware the jabberwocky!"

Again, I was now quoting Lewis Carroll and Samantha gave me such a look?

"You may call me Master Bogeyman. "

"As I said earlier, my dear little cunt, you have much to unlearn from college. "

Sam explained, removing the pink silk scarf from Grace's eyes.

"Humility for one, Grace. "

"A slave has no need for clothing.

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" Adam, if you please. "

Grace said, turning the stage over to me.

I stepped in front of Grace and grabbed her lacey pink teddy, ripping it easily at the seams, stripping her naked to the waist.  

"Samantha please, not him not now, I. . . "

Her pleas stopped in mid sentence.  

Sam's switch came down sharply on Grace's naked back, causing her to scream out in surprise and pain.

"You do not have permission to speak.

And you will not speak for any reason without permission from Adam. "

"He is my witness your vows. " 

"Do you understand now?"

Grace nodded her head up and down for yes.  

Grace was pleading with Sam through her eyes and tears, afraid to look at me.

"My slave has no need for long painted fingernails. "

Sam said, handed me nail clippers.

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I cut Grace's nails nice and short.   

Sam removed the makeup and lipstick from Grace's face with a washcloth.

Grace's hands were still bound behind her back.

"As of Monday morning you will be starting your new job as a receptionist.

My receptionist so I can keep and eye on you. "

Sam announced, while stroking Grace's small breasts.  

I watched Grace.