Upstairs in Hailee's private bathroom within the grand bedroom, Catherine followed silently behind, head bowed in deference to the young woman who held her captive.

The bathroom was pristine, marble gleaming under the soft ambient light. Hailee leaned casually against the doorframe, a casual smirk playing on her lips.

"You see, slut," her tone was nonchalant, almost conversational, "this is where you'll start. Thought I'd give you a proper introduction to our household routine."

Catherine felt the sting of Hailee's casual mockery but held her tongue, knowing any response would only provoke further disdain.

"You know, cleaning toilets isn't exactly glamorous," Hailee continued, her voice laced with amusement. "But it suits you, doesn't it? I mean, what else would you be doing with your time?"

After pointing out the differenc cleaning utenzild, Hailee turned and sauntered out of the room, leaving Catherine seething with suppressed anger. "Chop chop, Buttslut," she called back casually, her words a reminder of her slave’s subservient role.

Alone in the opulent bathroom, Catherine's hands trembled as she picked up the toilet brush. The task was familiar, yet under these humiliating circumstances, it felt like a profound indignity. In her own home, cleaning was a simple act of maintaining a loving environment for her family. Here, it underscored her captivity, a stark symbol of her loss of autonomy and dignity.

A while later, the 41-year-old woman finished her work and returned to her kneeling position, the scent of disinfectant mingling with the faint, lingering traces of Hailee’s expensive perfumes.

She debated calling out to her young captor but decided against it. The rules were clear—speak only when spoken to.

Minutes dragged into an eternity before she heard the door creak open. Hailee strolled in, her casual confidence a stark contrast to Catherine’s tense posture. The teenager’s eyes scanned the room, taking in the sparkling tiles, the gleaming fixtures, and the spotless mirrors.

“Well, Buttslut,” Hailee drawled, her tone dripping with condescension, “I suppose this is decent enough for a middle-aged woman. Though, I did expect more effort from someone with so much experience cleaning up messes. Maybe next time, you’ll aim for something approaching my standards.” She smirked, relishing the power she wielded.

Catherine swallowed hard, her face flushed with a mix of humiliation and anger. But she nodded, her voice a mere whisper, “Yes, Miss Hailee.”

The morning stretched on, an unrelenting cycle of tasks and inspections. Catherine scrubbed the grand staircase, its ornate banister gleaming under her relentless efforts. She dusted the numerous chandeliers, each crystal meticulously wiped clean. Hailee trailed behind, her critical eye missing nothing.

“Do it again, girl. I can still see a smudge on that window,” Hailee commanded at one point, her voice sharp. Catherine’s shoulders sagged, but she complied, knowing defiance would bring harsher repercussions.

The laundry room was next, a seemingly endless pile of designer clothes that required delicate handling. The young tyrant watched as her human property carefully separated the garments by fabric and color. When a single item was mistakenly placed in the wrong pile, Hailee's rebuke was swift.

“Are you really that careless? Do it properly,” she snapped.

The kitchen was a battlefield of pots, pans, and dishes. “Buttslut” scrubbed until her fingers were raw, her muscles aching. Each time she thought she had completed a task to an acceptable standard, Hailee found a reason to criticize. The floors were mopped twice, the counters wiped three times, and still, Hailee’s exacting standards were not met.

At lunch, Catherine's limbs trembled as she staggered towards the kitchen, her body screaming for rest. The morning had been a relentless blur of scrubbing, polishing, and obediently fetching whatever this young bitch demanded. Her head throbbed with exhaustion, and her vision blurred as she blinked back tears of frustration.

Her mind drifted to her old life, to her daughters, to the peace that now felt like a distant memory. She barely registered Hailee’s approach until a shadow fell over her.

"Buttslut! Time to go outside," Hailee sang, her voice a sharp contrast to Catherine’s dismal state.

The servant followed her mistress out of the house, her bare feet stumbling on the gravel path. The afternoon sun blazed down, and the slight breeze against her unclothed body felt alien, emphasizing her exposed vulnerability.

They reached a secluded corner of the vast estate, where a massive pile of rocks lay haphazardly. Each rock was the size of a large watermelon, their rough surfaces glinting in the harsh light.

Hailee turned to her with a casual smile, her tone light and carefree. "So, Buttslut, I have some errands to run this afternoon. Won't have time to keep an eye on you," she said, waving a hand dismissively. "But, I need you to move all these rocks—" she pointed to the pile, then to a spot about a hundred feet away, "—over there. Should keep you busy."

Catherine’s eyes widened, her throat tightening with despair. The task was impossible, especially in her weakened state.

"Now, don’t go thinking about slacking off or trying anything funny," Hailee warned, her tone still annoyingly casual. "There are cameras everywhere." She pointed to the corners of the yard, where tiny, almost invisible cameras were mounted. "And don’t forget about your little friend around your neck. Try to run, and it’s zappy zappy goodnight time for you!" She mimicked the shock collar’s effect with a mocking grin.

The snobby teen leaned in closer, her eyes gleaming with a cruel amusement. "Better get going, Buttslut. You wouldn’t want to disappoint me, would you?" She giggled, the sound grating on Catherine’s ears. "Have fun!" With that, she turned and sauntered away, leaving the middle aged woman alone with the monumental task.

Catherine stood there, staring at the pile of rocks, feeling a mix of anger, despair, and utter exhaustion. Her legs wobbled as she took a deep breath, her hands raw from the morning’s labor. The thought of moving even one of those rocks seemed insurmountable, yet she knew she had no choice…

Catherine's muscles burned with each agonizing step under the scorching sun, her hands raw and trembling from hours of lifting and carrying the heavy rocks. Sweat mingled with dirt streaks on her face, the sun mercilessly beating down on her exposed skin. At times, her back threatened to give out, but sheer willpower pushed her forward. She couldn't afford to collapse—not now.

As she paused to catch her breath, she glanced around, hoping against hope to discern any clue that might reveal her location. Her eyes scanned the vast expanse of green fields stretching endlessly to the horizon, devoid of landmarks or signs of civilization.

The emptiness of the landscape mirrored the emptiness in her heart—a yearning for freedom so close yet agonizingly out of reach. She clenched her fists, fighting back tears of frustration and despair. Every rock she moved felt like a step further into the abyss of her servitude, each drop of sweat a testament to her endurance.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of toil, Catherine placed the last rock in its designated spot. Exhausted beyond measure, she sank to her knees, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. Her whole body throbbed with pain, every muscle protesting the brutal ordeal she had endured alone.

Just as she began to gather her strength, Hailee sauntered through the garden door, a glistening smoothie in hand. With a casual slurp, she eyed Catherine's disheveled state and couldn't resist a cruel quip. "My, Buttslut, you look positively radiant. I think the dirt suits you," Hailee remarked, a mocking smirk playing on her lips.

Catherine's heart sank at the realization that her tormentor had returned. The young brat inspected the arrangement of the rocks, grudgingly nodding in approval. "Alright. Put them back for next time," Hailee commanded casually, as if ordering a simple chore. The words shattered Catherine's spirit completely, as she slowly moved to the pile of rocks, picking up the first one, as she began to erase what she’d accomplished with her sweat and tears.

As the pair returned to the house with the sun sinking low on the horizon, the young woman’s disdain was palpable. The spoiled teenager wrinkled her nose in disgust at the sight and smell of Catherine, fully covered in sweat and dirt from the ordeal with the rocks. With a scoff, Hailee ordered her servant to stand silently in a corner of the yard, her posture submissive under the weight of her owner’s commands.

Hailee disappeared briefly, returning with a garden hose in hand. Without a word, she turned on the water full blast, sending a shock of cold water cascading over Catherine's tired form. The dirt slowly washed away, revealing Catherine's exhausted face beneath.

In an unusual act of consideration, Hailee permitted Catherine to use a small, cheap hairdryer to hasten the drying of her hair, before they made their way back inside.

Catherine knelt beside the dog bowl, her mouth hesitating over the bland mixture within. She braced herself for another taste of humiliation, eating like an animal while Hailee and Madeline enjoyed their dinner at the table.

"...and then we'll hit the roller coasters first thing in the morning," Hailee's voice floated across the room, filled with excitement. "I can't wait to see Sarah's face when she tries the big one!"

Her mother’s laughter followed, warm and motherly. "Just remember, darling, to stay safe and enjoy yourself."

The slave’s ears strained to catch every word, her heart sinking with each syllable. Here was Hailee, making plans for carefree outings with friends, while Catherine ate like a beast from a bowl on the floor.

The 41 year old’s eyes flicked towards the cruel pair at the table. Anger simmered beneath her resignation. How could they revel in such luxury while inflicting such humiliation? A flicker of disbelief ignited within her—surprised by the normalcy of Hailee's life outside these walls, contrasting sharply with the cruelty she inflicted within.

Meanwhile, Hailee observed her slave from the corner of her eye. A smirk tugged at the corners of her lips as she noticed Catherine's awkward posture—almost comically sticking up her butt as she leaned over the bowl. The resemblance to a duck dipping its head in water amused Hailee, and for a moment, she found it quite endearing.

She had all the time in the world though.

to be continued.