Andrea's Downgrading & Degradation (DG)

[Violet-C]

A note from Violet:

My husband Alex and I recently moved into a wonderful Victorian home in the South London suburbs. You could possibly call it our dream home. It also had the benefit of being close enough to our two daughters’ private school in Dulwich. It had been completely renovated not long before by a property developer and his glamorous and imposing Russian wife who we met once when initially viewing the property. When we finally moved in, as expected the house had been emptied of all its wonderful contents other than a few boxes in the garden shed and garage where I uncovered this hand written note on a few sheets of A4 paper. I could so easily have simply thrown it away with the rest of the contents of the box, two horribly smelly stained woolen blankets, but thankfully I picked it up and started reading. I was so fascinated by the tale that I read it three times from beginning to end and then after discussing it with Alex had the idea to transcribe it here word for word for others to enjoy. It was untitled but I feel that “Andrea’s Downgrading and Degradation” seems appropriate. I will gradually publish the chapters as quickly as time allows.

Chapter 1

I do hope you don’t mind me introducing myself to you. My name is Andrea or I should say it was Andrea. I am now simply known as Slave.

I have managed to hide a few sheets of paper and a worn down pencil from my Master and Mistress and thought I should write down my story just in case somebody in the future might stumble across it and I do hope that in taking the time to read it, it wouldn’t inconvenience them too much. Obviously it may first be found by either my Master or Mistress, in which case they would probably destroy it anyway and you wouldn’t then need to waste your time on it. I would also be punished, but that would be no more than I would deserve for having wasted time writing this when I should have been supporting my busy and successful owners.

But first, for these scribbles to make any sense to you, the time pressed reader I will have to beg you to let me give you some context and background on the person I was and on how I was so lucky to achieve the enviable position of Slave that I now hold.

My name was Andrea McWilliams and I was born in the Scottish border town of Melrose to James, a Scotsman and Judith who was English. They met in University where my father studied law and he became a successful solicitor in the borders. Tragically when I was only ten my mother died in an accident whilst having a bath and when I reached my mid teens my father re-married a Thai bride. I couldn't believe it. I loved my father but I couldn’t get over the fact that she was obviously a Gold-digger and she knew I knew it, whereas he seemed completely blind to it. After my gorgeous mother’s death I was mostly brought up my maternal grandparents in the Home Counties. They were so loving and I saw increasingly less of my father, especially after his remarriage. My father and his second wife have now retired to Spain and I pretty much cut off all contact with them at that point in my life.

With regard to my appearance, most people would then have described me as petite and sexy. I’m a slim 5ft 3” with a small pert bosom 34B so I didn’t appeal to men who liked the Kim Kardashian type, but I’ thought of myself as being pretty attractive with bright blue eyes, shoulder length fair but not quite blond hair, high cheek bones and whitened teeth,

At this stage I should also mention that I believe I am about 27 or 28. My birthdays are no longer celebrated or remembered; I don’t often see a calendar. What I do know is that I was 24 when I first met Simon – my Master.

I graduated in French and had spent the three years since then working at a mid market estate agent in London. It gave me a real insight into property and when my grandmother died leaving me a reasonable legacy I knew enough about the London property market to know that with my inheritance, if I was prepared to buy a suitable wreck at auction I could stand to establish myself on the property ladder without a mortgage. It wouldn’t be exactly life changing but it would put me in a far better place than most of my peer group.

I’d attended a couple of auctions purely to get a feel for them and on my 3rd visit decided there were two flats with loads of potential that it looked as though I might be able to afford. I dressed in my usual professional estate agent wear: navy blue skirt suit with mid thigh skirt, white silk blouse, 10 denier tan tights and black stilettos and my shoulder length highlighted hair tied back in a professional pony-tail.

Soon after I sat down, Simon came and sat next to me. He was the epitome of the tall, dark and handsome man. He also wore a navy blue suit and white shirt with a pail blue silk tie. He had dazzling blue eyes that matched his tie, dark hair and a slight tan. I could almost see a young George Clooney in him and somehow we got chatting. I discovered he had just turned 30 and so was 6 years older than me and he was single, although he didn't seem to be hitting on me. He just seemed to be genuinely interested in me as a person and he was very impressed that I wanted to buy at auction.

He went on to explain that he thought of himself as a self-employed small-scale property developer regularly buying at auction. He’d trained at one of the major international property companies and about four years ago, initially with a couple of private investors went independent, but for the last year or so was financing and profiting from deals entirely on his own. I got the impression he was successful without earning an absolute fortune but he did seem very modest and may have been far more successful than he made out.

We both bid at different properties and to my utter delight I made my first purchase at a little below my maximum limit and he did likewise, although my purchase was £165,000 and his was £750,000. He said we must go out to dinner that evening to celebrate and I was young, free and single and instantly said yes.

He was absolutely charming and we very quickly became an item. I must admit I loved being with him and both of us showed little inclination to spend too much time with our old friends. It was as if I had found my soul mate. I also quickly discovered that he was into S&M in a relatively low key way and it wasn’t until he’d tied me up with silk scarves initially, then moving on to some leather cuffs and chains, that I discovered I was a natural sub. Somehow it was something I’d been relatively unaware of before. I’d always been attracted to physically powerful men but I’d never felt the need to submit to anyone the way I did with Simon.

After we’d been dating for 6 months or so he suggested I move in with him. He had a three bedroom flat overlooking the river and I immediately said yes and rented out the small North London flat that I’d bought at the auction, which with Simon’s guidance was now fully refurbished.

Soon after I moved in he suggested that I give up my job as I could work with him. He complimented me on my taste in property and thought that with his buying skills and project management skills and my eye for detail and design we’d make an excellent team. It sounded great and although he now effectively employed me, it didn’t seem to affect our relationship and when out visiting properties he very much treated me as his equal.

Sex was better than ever and he learned more about my desire to be his sub and also noticed that I loved the humiliation of being called his slut and whore. We spoke openly about our desires and what turned us on as we had total trust in one another and I knew I’d truly found my soul-mate when he said he’d love to have control over someone, but only with their consent and I said that I couldn’t explain why but I loved the feeling of humiliation and worthlessness and also be tied up and left to my own fears and dreams, not knowing if or when I’d be freed. He asked me if I wanted to experiment with those fantasies and I said that nothing would satisfy me more.

We’d invested in a few more heavy duty S&M bits and pieces such as heavier duty hand-cuffs and leg-irons and we got to the stage where he would leave me tied up for hours at a time. Sometime Simon would even go out to a meeting leaving me naked, tied to the bed blindfolded not knowing when he’d return and on one occasion he left me in that position with head-phones on playing trance music in a loop so I had no idea how long I’d been there and without my knowing he returned and until he got down on the bed and started playing with me I wasn’t even sure it was him. The fear and excitement was completely overpowering.

[jsmt]

Nice start. Hope you continued it soon.

[toxicmask]

Interesting beginning, I like the fact that it is set in modern times pretending to re-enacment ancient times!

[Violet-C]

Chapter Two

As with all fetishes, whilst Simon seemed able to completely switch off and return to his vanilla life the moment we left the bedroom it became an increasing fixation for me. Due to the open nature of our relationship I had no worries about explaining this to him and of course he understood entirely.

A few days later he suggested that we could visit a dungeon together and this would help takes things to another level and after visiting a few we finally met Mistress Xena, obviously not her real-name, a striking East European with the most amazing body I’d ever seen. She was quite intimidating and far taller and more powerful than me and between her and Simon I was totally under their control for the time we were with her. There were even occasions where they’d lock me naked in a cage for hours at a time and on more than one occasion Simon would leave me with her locked in the cage naked whilst she serviced other punters in front of me.

With her encouragement over a period of time I had both my nipples pierced with small barbells that didn’t really show through a bra, as well as my navel and clitoris. Prior to that I’d only had two boring piercings in each earlobe. On the outside I was still the relatively conservative Andrea, but underneath was a very different person.

I simply loved being a prisoner in the cage whilst life went on in front of me and I had no control over when I was let out and the humiliation of having to drink water from a bowl like a dog made me wet just thinking about it.

My life seemed perfect, we were successful in work and my sex life, not that we ever seemed to actually have penetrative sex very often now seemed perfect. I was satisfied by the humiliation and degradation of what either Simon or Mistress Xena demanded we do and I was regularly asked to masturbate with a dildo or vibrator in front of them. Nothing seemed too humiliating, but deep down I always knew I was in control and could simply stop or walk away at anytime. Although I realized that would probably mean losing Simon I still felt I needed a further loss of that power that Subs always really have.

Then one day after we'd been living together for about six months Simon told me about a detached and very run-down Victorian villa he’d discovered in the outer South London suburbs that he felt could probably be divided into three luxury flats. We went to see it together before agreeing to put in an offer. At some time it must have been the most wonderful family home it was set back off the road in its own now very overgrown grounds, It was set over two main floors with a small two room basement and additional loft/attic space that comprised of three rooms and there was a Victorian conservatory attached to the back of the house with at least half the glass broken. There was also a large two car garage and substantial brick built garden shed.

The place would take a lot of work and cost a lot to do up but I instantly agreed with Simon that we should buy it. As we drove away after telling the agent we’d think about it, Simon dropped the most amazing bombshell.

“We could actually use some of it as a dungeon and playroom until we do it up, it would be a pure escapist fantasy”. I almost wet myself in excitement

“Yes” I practically screamed, “You could just lock me up and forget about me. It would be amazing,” I said, half joking.

“Wow, would you really like to take it that far?” he inquired

“Well, that just sort of came out without me really thinking. I obviously wouldn’t want to be forgotten about and left there, I mean I could actually die. But possibly being locked up and left there over night would be amazing. In fact yes, as scary as it would be. I’d really love to try that. I could be a real prisoner. Let’s see if we can get it?”

“Well okay then, let’s agree a price and see if we can make your dreams come true, What shall it be darling, a castle fit for a princess or a dungeon unfit for a slave?”

“A dungeon for me every time” I joked kissing him and feeling his erect crotch practically making him swerve off the road.

We went home and agreed an offer and had the most incredible penetrative vanilla sex we’d had in ages.
“I told him how much I loved him and how much I needed to be humiliated by him for whatever crazy reason”

“”He agreed he’d make my dream come true somehow”

Incredibly beyond my wildest dreams, the estate agent called back a couple of days later to say our offer had been accepted. I almost screamed with excitement and probably bored Simon witless nagging him as to how long it would take to complete the purchase and gain access. I certainly left no doubt in his mind that I wanted to experiment there with the prisoner scenario.

Things dragged on as purchasing a property in the UK always seems to, but finally after two full months we completed the purchase and took possession. Simon wouldn’t let me go there at first as he wanted to check how safe it was and we soon discovered that the gas had been turned off but it still had running water although you wouldn’t actually want to use the outdated kitchen or either of the horribly filthy bathrooms, but it was at least safe to enter. He was also reassured by the electrician that we usually used that whilst the electrics need to be replaced they were safe to use for lights and basic power.

Then one day the following week after we got up I could tell he was acting a little strangely and when I tried to ask what the matter was, he said it was nothing and wanted to take me out to lunch. He encouraged me to wear a really nice summer dress as it' was such a lovely day. It was late July at the time.

I wore a pink chiffon dress that was sleeveless and went to just below my knees with the strappy gold Gina stilettos that Simon had bought me a few months previously. I let my hair down and with the recent addition of some blonder highlights felt I looked pretty good. We went to a fabulous restaurant where Simon only had one glass of wine as he’d decided to drive. I finished the rest of the bottle and was more than a little tipsy when we left.

As I tottered back to the car, nursing my painful toes, thinking “why did I say I wanted these damned shoes, they looked great. But you would think that for almost £400 they could have added a little more padding to the soles!”

As we got to the car he announced, “ I know let’s go to see the house”

“Simon I’m hardly dressed for it. Can’t we at least go home so I can put some jeans on first?”

“Don't be silly. You look gorgeous” he replied “and anyway I had most of the real mess removed over the last few days. I wanted to surprise you with how much better it looks”

“Really”” I replied, “You’ve done that already. I quite wanted to go through some of the old stuff, you never know what you might uncover in a apace like that”

“It’ll all be fine, you’ll love it even more now”

Shortly afterwards I found myself being driven down the short overgrown drive where nothing seemed to have changed. Then Simon got out and opened the car door for me, turning on all his Clooneyesque charm and opened the front door and lofted me over.

“But we’re not even married” I joked

“No, but as good as” he replied

“So is that a proposal?” I begged

“Soon” he answered, dashing my hopes.

I put that behind me and followed him into the interior that was just as squalid as I remembered. You could tell it would be magnificent but at present it was dirty and unloved and most of the windows were boarded up letting in thin shafts of light on the bright summer’s day.

We walked through all the rooms on the ground and first floor and the he led me up to the smaller attic room where I hadn’t been before. They were at least brighter as the windows were not boarded up although much of the glass was broken. He then took me to the third top floor room which was the smallest. It was lit by a small window in the roof and it was empty other than an old mattress in one corner, a bucket and a bottle of water. Just as I turned around I discovered that he’d stepped out and was bolting the door closed behind me.

“Very funny, Simon. Let me out”

“I thought you wanted to play the prisoner,” he said from behind the door.

“Well yes” I hesitatingly replied, but not dressed like this in one of my best dresses and heels.

“Look if you really want to do this, now is your chance” he retorted in a tone that made me feel instantly submissive and turned on, but suddenly terribly vulnerable.

I found myself saying “Yes, but for how long. An hour maybe whilst you walk around the rest of the house and measure up”

“No way Andrea, this is your chance to try this or give it up”

“I don’t want to give it up you know that Simon”

“I thought so. I’ll see you in the morning, you have water you’ll survive”

“Simon, Simon” I called as I heard him walking down the stairs followed by the distant sound of him locking the front door and then driving off.

“The bastard, surely he’ll be back soon” I tried to convince myself. It then dawned on me that I’d left my handbag in the car. I had absolutely nothing other than what I was wearing.

I looked at my watch and it was 4.30pm I wasn’t going to panic and opened the bottle of water. It was warm and had obviously been there sometime, but I needed a drink. My feet were aching and looking down at the floor I didn’t really want to take my shoes off, it was bare wooden boards covered in dust and I thought I was likely to get splinters in my feet if I removed them. But my feet were killing me. I determined to withstand the pain a little longer. Convincing myself that Simon would return soon.

The next time I looked at my watch it was 5pm, I’d paced around the room numerous times and there was no seat. I surveyed the mattress; I don’t know where Simon had found it. It was stained, dusty and smelt as if it had been stored somewhere damp in the past. I really didn't want to touch it. I also wasn’t going to sit down on it in my pale pink dress, as it would be ruined.

An element of panic was setting in and I tried opening the door but it was solid and firmly bolted from the outside. I was getting hot and sweaty and increasingly thirsty. I drank some more. Clearly there was no escape and I was entirely at Simon’s mercy. I didn't have my mobile to call for help as it was in my bag.. I just had to wait. 6pm came and I simply had to sit down. In noticed and old nail sticking out from one of the ceiling beams that I could just reach and I took my dress off and hung it on that. I removed my shoes and eased myself on to the filthy mattress wearing only my cream silk bra, high leg briefs and 10 denier pale tan tights. I hoped that by sitting upright against the wall my tights would prevent my body actually touching the mattress.

I pulled my knees up to my chin and dropped my head feeling as if I could almost cry but also feeling wet with fear and excitement due to the vulnerability that I’d exposed myself to. My mind raced with such crazy ideas as what would happen if someone broke in or if the house caught fire.

I looked at my watch again it was 6.45pm I’d been locked in for over two hours and there was no escaping the fact that I needed to pee. Of course Simon had though of everything. Possibly the ultimate humiliation I would have to squat over the plastic bucket and piss into it. I was determined to hold on longer, thinking surely he’d be back before long.

By 8pm I was bursting to go to the toilet and even though I hoped he’d return before the impending nightfall realized I had to use the bucket. I placed it about 18” from the wall and pulled my tights and nickers down and squatted leaning against the cobweb covered wall behind me and breathed a sigh of relief as my golden shower shot into the plastic bucket below me. I felt disgusted at myself and so turned on. I even looked around the room for something to masturbate with, cursing Simon for not leaving me with a vibrator. I felt so hot I threw caution to the wind and lay on my back on the filthy mattress fingering my clit wildly until I cam to an incredible orgasm adding to the stains on the filthy mattress.

I felt high as a kite laying back in the stains of various past users of the mattress’ bodily fluids. It was dusk outside now and I began to give up hope of Simon returning until the morning and fear returned with me beginning to imagine that he’d left me here forever and I’d starve to death or rip my fingers to pieces trying to tear through the roof and having to scream for help.

The very panic and humiliation of it turned me on and I was forced to return to furious masturbation.

By 9.30 it was almost dark outside and soon I wouldn’t be able to read the time on my watch. I began to feel I had no choice other than to try and get some sleep.
I didn’t particularly fancy rolling around on the disgusting smelly mattress in just my underwear but knew that my dress would be ruined if I slept in that so I just lay there for what could have been hours in almost total darkness feeling absolutely disoriented.

I also knew that I again need the toilet and it was now too dark to see the bucket. I gingerly made my way across the room like a blind person until I felt it with my toe. Thankfully I didn’t kick it over. However my joy was short lived as I managed to piss all over the handle, which I had to carefully touch to move it back to the corner. I then made my way back to my bed and slept fitfully. I awoke as it was getting light and could then see it was 5.35am. I’d been here over 12 hours and was starving. I could also tell my hair must look like a bird’s nest. I’d put a lot of hairspray in before we went out the day before and hadn’t been able to comb it since. I’d also worn a lot of make-up and false eyelashes. God knows what I now looked like. I stretched out feeling rather sore and very unclean. I revisited my toilet hooping that Simon would arrive before I had to shit as that would be the ultimate humiliation. Only somehow once I’d thought of that I couldn’t remove the image from my mind. Squatting and leaving an enormous disgusting turd in the bucket stinking the room out until he returned. What had come over me I’d never felt like this before? I masturbated feverishly, the third time in 12 hours only this time my fantasy was one of filth squalor and abject degradation. I amazed myself by how much this disgusting environment was turning me on.

I simply had to defecate in that bucket and I did. I squatted there over the bucket and dropped the most disgusting smelly thing into causing an enormous splash of urine to rise up drenching my tights below my knees. I took them off and used them as a pathetic attempt to wipe myself clean. There was no doubt I now smelt of sweat, urine and feces. What would Simon think when/if he arrived?

I soon realized that as much as I was turned on by the disgusting scene that surrounded me, so were the flies and there must have been at least a dozen flying around attracted to the bucket. What had I become?

Then incredibly just before 9 I heard a car pull up. My heart raced was it Simon or could it be someone else?

Thankfully a few minutes later Simon opened the door as I stood against the back wall in shame.

“Oh god, you look awful, and the smell. It hadn’t crossed my mind that you might need to go, I really an sorry I went too far”

I t felt as though I was having an out of body experience as I head myself replying

“No Simon, I’m sorry I’ve made such a mess, I hated you for the first hour or so but its inexplicable but I’ve felt so randy. The filth and the degradation has been amazing We’ve had various S&M role-plays before but this was simply on another level. If you’re willing I just need to do this again”

“Well, anything’s possible if this is going to become part of our relationship, I can live with that, but I do think we need to get you cleaned up first. I’m afraid there’s no mirror here and only cold water but at least that will help. I’ve also brought some clean underwear and a tracksuit for you to wear back”

“Thanks, that’s very sweet of you” I replied walking toward the 1st floor bathroom.

“Hey aren’t you forgetting something? “ he said pointing at the bucket

“That’s your mess, you clear it up’

I waved the flies away and picked up the filthy stinking bucket and carried it to the awful bathroom emptying the contents into the brown stained toilet flushing it for probably the first time in years.

I then washed myself in cold water at the sink before getting changed. Thankfully I was able to comb my hair remove the remains of my makeup using some of the contents in my handbag, but cleaning my teeth would have to wait until I got home.

We drove back in almost total silence with my mind racing as to where we could take this new scenario that we’d just played out. In the last 15 hours I’d learned a number of things about myself. I was most definitely a sub, I need humiliation and I was turned on by absolute filthy degradation, also that as a sub I was still in charge of our relationship because I could insist that Simon pout me through this and hopefully so much more.

[summertime]

Very nice Violet, it's already ticking boxes for me

[jsmt]

Great Story, I like the plot and the pace, especially the time you take to narrate Andrea's feelings about each step in her path of self-destruction. Don't let us hanging for too long, please.

[fallenprincess]

Fantastic, I can’t wait to see where Andrea’s fetishes take her next! X

[Devomax2005]

Deleted

[garfieldcat]

This is fantastic! Thank you for sharing it with us!
Can't wait to read the new chapters.

[Violet-C]

Chapter Three

The next couple of weeks went by and we had good but not amazing sex and played various S&M fantasies including visiting Mistress Xena’s chambers once. But I knew I needed more of the complete humiliation of imprisonment that I’d experienced on that one amazing evening.

I couldn’t concentrate on my work, which was largely around working on various ways the house we’d bought could be divided, but every time I looked at the drawings of it I thought of it as my dungeon.

I finally told Simon that I couldn’t ignore the Genie in the room any longer and that I’d been playing out various scenarios in my head but I wanted to spend a week as a prisoner to see how the utter degradation of that felt.

Simon had always obviously been very open minded but he did remind me that what I was considering was a huge step and was I really sure. I knew that I’d never been surer of anything. I said I would only need food for a week and water and he would have to check on me each day.

After not that much persuading he agreed. He thought he would need a few days to make a few minor changes and it was agreed that I shouldn’t see what he’d done until I submitted to my incarceration. When he said yes I was so excited I practically raped him over the kitchen table. I was buzzing.

He told me to make sure my diary was clear for the following week and we could go ahead.

It was agreed that he would take me there on the following Sunday evening and collect me at the same time a week later. I was not to wear my watch. He would decide what I ate, although there would be adequate provisions. Also I would surrender my i-phone but he would give me a Pay-As-You Go phone just for emergencies with the home and his mobile number programmed in. I agreed that made sense just in case.

He also stipulated I could wear whatever clothes I liked but I would be wearing them for a week. I agreed to not take a comb or any cosmetics so was advised to not wear any make-up when we left on the Sunday. He agreed to one other request which was I took a box of tampons in case my period started.

On the Sunday lunchtime I showered and didn’t put on any make-up I as going to tie my hair up but Simon insisted I wear it down so it would get greasy and tangled. The thought of all the knots I would have to break through a week later was rather worrying but the thought of the filth and grime was al phenomenal disgusting turn-on.

I decided to wear a sports bra, my oldest pair of knickers and then a sweatshirt and jogging bottoms with sports socks and trainers.

Simon said I was to be blind-folded as I entered the room and could only remove it after he had left and bolted the door. I reluctantly agreed not knowing quite what to expect.

We entered the room with him supporting me and he carefully pushed my down on to what I could tell was the same filthy mattress. He then removed my trainers but told me I was not to object. Then within a few seconds I heard the door closing and the clang of the rusty bolt sliding across. He shouted through
“Prisoner One – remove your blindfold”

He hadn’t used my name. A charge ran through me just with that simple humiliation.

I looked around there were a few minor modifications to the room. The mattress was still there and there was also now one blanket with what looked like oil stains on it, at least I hoped they were oil stains and it was rough and worn. The bucket remained. But no toilet paper, I had naturally assumed he would leave some and simply hadn’t mentioned it. There was no water bottle, simply a steel dog’s bowl on the floor filled with water and another bowl beside that. On the floor also were three cans, one of tomato soup, one of meat balls and one of mixed fruit plus a can opener but no utensils to eat them with. I was told this food was to last 24 hours and tomorrow afternoon it would be replaced. I would eat what I was given and if the food one day wasn’t eaten then it would not be replaced the next. Looking around, thankfully I noticed the vibrator that I’d asked for however it was not mine and seemed to have been smeared in some dirt from the garden, at least it would offer me some kind of escape! With that he asked one more time if I wanted to stay to which I replied I did and shortly after I heard him drive away,

I waited until it had started to go dark having drank some water on my hands and knees from the bowl. And used the toilet bucket once. I didn’t eat anything and then it started to go dark and I lay on the soiled mattress as the darkness fell. I then started to feel hungry and it dawned on me that with no light in the room I'd actually left it too late too eat as I couldn't use the tin opener in the dark. I managed to fumble around and found the dirty vibrator. I hadn’t had a chance to clean it in my water bowl but nevertheless masturbated myself to sleep relishing the new level of depravity that I’d willingly driven myself to.

Dawn broke, I’m not sure at what time and after using my toilet bucket I opened the tin of soup, I thought I'd be sensible and could actually use the tin as a cup but soon discovered that the tin opener had left it with such a jagged sharp edge I had no option but to pour it into the bowl or risk cutting my lips quite badly. I wasn’t going to eat this on my hands and knees like a dog but soon realized that drinking soup from a wide brimmed bowl was not easy and I spilt some down my chin and on to my sweatshirt, I had to wipe may face clean with my sleeve and realized that I now had food stains in two places on my only top. I had made a complete mess of myself within a few short hours.

Shortly afterwards I decanted the tinned fruit into my bowl and picked out individual pieces and drank the remaining juice mixed with the dregs of my soup. I then finally managed to wash this strange concoction down with some of my water. Most of the water had now been finished and I was unsure when it would be replaced so I had no option but to drink less until someone came. It then dawned on me that I'd inexplicably forgotten to ask for a toothbrush. Keeping my teeth spotless was something I did religiously three times each day as well as flossing and every three of four months I had them professionally whitened and I was proud of my perfect Hollywood smile, I cleaned my teeth so automatically that in my excitement I'd completely forgotten to mention it. I was suddenly overcome with fear that my beautiful white teeth would decay due to some stupid fetish of mine. I managed to put those crazed thoughts out of my head but did realise that I would undoubtedly have a very bad case of halitosis by the end of the week. I made a mental note to myself to ask for some kind of toothbrush when my food was replenished. However, this new disgusting thought of having bad breath, something that would have terrified me in the past somehow turned me on immensely and I returned to the comfort of my vibrator coated with a mix of dirt and dried in vaginal discharge. My depraved lust was becoming insatiable.

I alternated between staring up at the sky through the tiny skylight, pacing the room in my socks and sitting on my filthy mattress. I was now also getting extremely hungry. The only remaining food was the tin of meatballs. This was not something I would ever eat but the thought of eating them cold was revolting but I realised I had little choice.

I plunged the tin opener into the side of the can and levered it around leaving a similar jagged edge to before. I poured out the meatballs and the glutinous cold gravy that they came in into the bowl. I picked it up and smelt it and it was about as unappealing a smell as I could possibly imagine food having.

I put the bowl down not being able to face it. Time passed and my hunger increased I knew that I couldn’t put this off any longer. I sat on the floor with the bowl between my legs and lifted out the first meatball as it partly disintegrated falling on to my right leg and then on to the floor. I now had an awful wet gravy stain on my track suit bottoms that I stupidly tried to rub our with my sleeve. I must already look a total mess. I lifted another meatball, more carefully this time and forced it into my mouth and slowly swallowed. It was revolting, I knew I had to finish the bowl and finally did so with numerous stains on my clothing and down my chin., I wiped what I could off but knew some was left on my face. I could also tell there were bits of food between my teeth that I simply couldn’t remove as much as I probed with my tongue. Finally I lifted the water bowl and drank the remainder, feeling sure that Simon would arrive shortly.

Just as I had started to become desperate that I’d been deserted due to my own stupidity I heard a car pull up outside the house. Shortly afterwards, he opened the door and from the look on his face I could tell he was amazed at the state I was in already.

He said “Prisoner One stand at the back of your cell whilst I inspect it.” He then took a bottle of water out of his backpack and filled my bowl and then put three new tins of food on the floor.

He asked me if I wanted to continue to which I said yes and he was pleased that I wasn’t giving up too easily.

I then asked if I could empty my toilet bucket. He walked over took a look and told me that I couldn’t as it was nowhere near full and he would decide when it needed emptying.

I pleaded with him and was rebuked with “Prisoners have no rights to make requests, your cell will be inspected at the same time tomorrow, good bye”

He turned, walked away and bolted the door. I couldn't believe I was left with the half full bucket, thinking at least it only had urine it, but I knew that wouldn’t be the case for much longer.

I picked up the food and this time it was a tin of tomatoes, a tin of creamy mushroom soup and another tin of fruit. I knew that these were likely to be even messier than yesterday’s rations!

By the end of that day all I had left for the next morning was some water and my tin of tomatoes. I was now a complete mess and could tell that I had serious body odour and my clothes were covered in a mix of food satins, dirt from the room, sweat stains and urine splashes. I had also managed to dip the end of some of my hair into one of the food bowls and this was now stuck in a dry knotted lump. I also guessed from the awful taste in my mouth that my breath probably stank. I had now made full use of the toilet facilities and somehow the number of flies attracted to that had increased from somewhere. Other than that I had daydreamed and masturbated the day away. My pussy was sore from the furious activity with my constantly sticky vibrator, but I was determined to carry on. I licked my fingers as best I could but couldn’t get rid of the grime and smell of mushroom soup from them and when I ran my fingers through my hair could feel how filthy it must be.

Soon after dawn broke I finally ate the tin of tomatoes and eating them without any cutlery was beyond messy. Each one was too big to go in my mouth whole and the first I bit into exploded between my teeth sending tomatoes pulp and juice all over me. After that I tore them apart with my hands in the bowl doing my best to waft away the circling flies. In less than 48 hors it seemed as though I had been reduced to complete squalor. Could things get any worse I asked myself.

With my water now all gone I was desperate and tempted to use the emergency phone when Simon thankfully arrived. He opened the door and conducted an inspection of my cell. I asked in the most respectful way possible if I could empty my bucket or have anything to clean myself and both requests were denied. I was told I could empty the bucket the next day or I could do so now but then if I did so., my internment would end, it was entirely my decision. I had no desire for that and begged to be able to continue the humiliation. I went to touch him and he shied away. I must look and smell awful. I asked him if this was the case and he said yes but that was to be expected of a filthy degenerate like myself. The insults got me so excited I actually wanted to masturbate in front of him. Managing to suppress those thoughts, finally I asked for more water and he agreed to my request. This time he filed my bowl to the very brim and left a tin of chunky meat soup, a tin of kidney beans in chilli sauce and a tin of ready-made custard. What an appalling looking feast I thought. This time though I had determined to wait until the evening and then to simply gorge on them all one after the other reveling in the disgusting mess I would undoubtedly make.

I again had a fitful night’s sleep after forcing the disgusting rations down and as I’d imagined it was impossible to eat them all without making a mess. I could feel how sticky my face and fingers were but didn’t want to waste any of my water cleaning myself in case I became dehydrated the next day.

The next day I heard a car pull up outside, but it didn’t sound like Simon’s it sounded heavier and as if it had a diesel engine. My heart was pumping crazily as I heard a key being turned in the front door. For the next few minutes I heard nothing and then the sound of a woman’s high heels walking up the wooden stairs to my attic room.

I stood back as far as possible from the door not knowing what to expect. The rusty bolt slid open and there stood Mistress Xena. I’d never seen her dressed this way. Here long blond locks were flowing down over her shoulders and she had a jet black business suit on and red silk blouse with knee high black patent leather boots with chunky high heels.

She saw me and burst out laughing so loudly I thought she might faint. When she’d finally regained her composure she said

“Simon told me that you were an absolute mess but darling I never thought this was possible. You look like you’re in an asylum and this room stinks. Is that your toilet?” she inquired pointing at the bucket.

“Well there’s an old bathroom next door, quickly empty it in there and come back in here”

As I passed her she held her nose. I’m not sure if that was because of me, or the bucket.

When I returned she had put some more tins of food on the floor and refilled my water bowl.

“Have you been using that filthy thing” she asked in her slight Russian accent looking at my sex aid.

“Yes Mistress I’m afraid I have”

“You really are a filthy animal, all you can think of is food and sex, you are nothing but a degenerate slave do you agree?”

“Yes Mistress you’re right I am nothing. I’m a degenerate slave”

“You realise that in Nazi Germany, people like you were sent to concentration camps or to the Gulag in my former country”

“Yes I guess so”

“Yes you guess so!” she screeched, “Show me some respect slave”

“I’m sorry, Mistress you’re right” I stammered “I belong in a gulag Mistress”

“Well perhaps that should be arranged” she threatened menacingly and turned towards the door pausing briefly to call me a disgusting filthy animal and that someone would be back tomorrow although if it was up to her I’d be left there to starve to death in my own self fulfilling dream of squalor.

She slammed the door and bolted it heels clomping down the stairs. I could hear her talking on her mobile before leaving from outside, possibly to Simon and then I heard her drive off.

I was both petrified and turned on by what she had said and although she knew all about my fantasies I didn't realize that Simon had told her we were actually going ahead with such things away from her chambers.

My mind raced with images of people in gulags in filthy dormatories with rotten teeth being almost skeletally thin. There was something insane about me, she was right and with this image in my mind I thrust the sticky vibrator into my dripping wet pussy.

After coming more than once I sat against the wall on my mattress and decided that I would wolf down as much of my food as possible straight away, as if I was some kind of wild beast that ate until they could eat no more not knowing when their next meal might come and also it would make the remainder of the day seem even longer with nothing at all to look forward to until nightfall.

I looked down at my feet and pulled a sock off. It had started as white and clean three days ago and now was dirty brown almost all over. I pulled it up to my nose and bathed in the disgusting odour and the stretched the hard crispy thing back on to my smelly foot. I then smelt under my arms and there was no mistaking why Xena had held her nose. I stank and I absolutely reveled in this wonderful odour of dirty stale sweat. I was half way through my week, how wonderfully gruesome would I seem after a few more days.

Then strangely my mind wandered back to one day on the tube going to work in London a couple of years ago and I suddenly realized what might have triggered my crazed fantasy,

As usual the Northern line carriage was completely full other than the middle section that was completely empty. I thought to myself I’m not going to stand in this crowd when there are so many empty seats. Then I realsied why, lying stretched across three of four seats was a bag lady. She was so filthy I could not be sure of she was actually black or white and the smell was unbelievable and for some reason instead of backing away as everyone else did. I found myself sitting down opposite her looking at her breathing in the intoxicating smell, wondering how long was it since she had last washed and when did any of her clothes last get changed I had obviously forgotten that until now. What had compelled me to sit down rather than shy away. The stark contract between my hair, immaculate make-up, business suit and heels with her matted filthy hair, disgusting clothes, trainers and mismatched socks was incredible. Did I want to experience this from that moment on without realizing it? I imagined how wonderful it would be to step on to a tube carriage like that and to see everyone back away. Maybe, just maybe I could actually take this that far I wondered. I sat there thinking that I must actually be cracking up due to my self imposed solitary confinement. Being a prisoner through choice was one thing but wishing to become some kind of Bag Lady – surely not!

Anyway I got through to what I believed was Sunday as I had no actual way of confirming the number of days I’d spent in confinement and thankfully my guess was correct. Simon arrived to collect me. He walked in carrying my Louis Vuitton holdall and a black bin liner. Mercifully he also had my electric toothbrush.

He told me how amazed and impressed he was that I’d held out so long and that he’d personally given me 48 hours at most. He also told me how far removed the person in front of him was from the usually perfectly turned out Andrea. He also said “I hope you won’t think I’m being rude, but frankly you stink!”

I told him that was possibly the highest compliment he’d ever paid me and that I still felt high on endorphins from this crazy scenario we’d played out.

He took a mirror out of my bag and handed it to me so I could look at myself. Obviously I knew my clothes were a state but when I looked at my face and hair I couldn’t quite believe the amount of dried food stains around my lips and chin and my hair was an almost indescribable twisted car crash of a mess. I also could see there was food between my teeth still.

I was instructed to empty the stinking bucket and he apologised for the fact that there was only cold water but at least I could sponge myself off before we got home. I did this cringing at the stubble under my arms and between my legs. I also made a terrible attempt at combing through my matted locks, doing more damage than good as huge chunks of hair got ripped out from the knots down. I also had an enormous spot on my chin. It must have been almost 10 years since I last had a spot. I was a complete mess.

Simon gave me a clean bra and knickers and then handed me some jeans and a lose fitting top and after cleaning my teeth and spraying myself with some perfume I felt half way to being human again and we headed home.

I spent most of the afternoon lying in a scented bath and trying to salvage my hair. I shaved my legs but strangely couldn't quite bring myself to shave under my armpits. It would mean not wearing the strappy tops that I often did but for the moment at least I wanted a reminder of that shame I’d experienced. I needed to carry that reminder of the past week with me for as long as possible and I wanted to see how long it would take Simon to notice.

He suggested we go out for dinner and I put on a designer black dress and heels and wore far more makeup than I normally did and I knew I looked pretty hot.

We chatted over dinner and he told me of his plans for the house and that whilst I’d been away he felt that with my agreement we could keep it as a family home rather than make it three flats. He felt that with an increasing shortage of family homes in London we may not get the necessary planning consents to convert it into flats and if finished to a high standard would be cheaper to do the work without converting it and ultimately be worth a little more.

“And I could have my cell” I interrupted him excitedly getting some strange looks from the table next to us.

“You are incorrigible” he replied,

“But yes that could easily work” he replied more quietly.

With that I told him about the bag lady on the tube and how I thought that as well as clearly being a sub, seeing her might have triggered this fetish without my having realized it.

“You don’t actually want to be a bag lady do you?” he whispered.

“No” I said, “but it might be fun to try out in public whilst living as a prisoner”

“Well that’s pretty off the wall and you'd have to make yourself look quite different, what would happen if you bumped into a friend covered in grime with wine stains all down your clothes. Are you sure you don’t have some kind of bi-polar disorder, perhaps you should see someone” he said looking very serious for a moment”

“No Simon how dare you think I’m mad” I joked, although the thought had obviously crossed my mind.

But I did spend a lot of the time when I was away thinking about this and changing my look.” I told him hesitatingly.

“I want to try this again and for longer, but the hair thing was a real issue. I think it has to go”

“Well actually I quite like girls with short hair, as I’ve often hinted to you, but you’ve never taken the hint”

“No but I’ve been very aware of it, but when I worked as an estate agent it seemed better long, they like a fairly conservative look. Now that’s no longer the case and were effectively both self employed we can do whatever we like, I’ll cut my hair in a style that you want if you’ll let me play prisoner when I want to”

“I think you can call that a deal” he replied grinning.

“By the way, how much does Xena know about all this and what made you tell her?”

“Well we’ve spent enough money hiring her chambers over the last 12 months and she knows a lot about these type of scenarios, as she has some pretty weird clients, so its seemed insane not to ask her advice and she was really keen to get involved. I only had to pay for her actual time coming to feed you” Again funny looks from the next table who were by now having difficulty in concentrating on their food.

“Well you know what, I’m not over this. I really need a bigger fix”

“If that’s what you really want then why not, let’s discuss it over the next few days. You may not feel the same once you’ve settled back in at home,, but we can certainly see when we can set things up again”

“Not too long I hope, I realize I honestly will find it hard to wait long” getting wet with excitement.