So I'm dressed in black shiny nylon overalls. They fit where they touch and that's not too many places. They're at least two sizes too big, so I've rolled them up at the wrists and ankles. But if they're to become regular wear I'll need to make some alterations.

I'm also wearing a pair of black steel toe cap work boots. These at least fit. Unfortunately, I'm also still wearing my chastity belt and my slave collar. It's been twelve weeks now. Twelve weeks of abstinence. I'm willing to bet my hymen has grown back.

So I've forsaken my office job and now work for my owner. The woman who stole my keys. I was summoned to a park after she phoned me. It was made clear that I had to do as I was told or the keys would be destroyed.

She made me quit my job. Cut my hair the way she wanted. Dress the way she liked. Then I had to put my home up for sale. I moved in with her. My tongue has become her favourite sex toy.

I thought, with each milestone, I would be released from the belt. But the goalposts kept moving.

She could see I was getting desperate. I was thinking of going to the law. What did I have to lose? If she was never giving me the keys.

So now I drive the van to the address she has given me. She sits next to me, her hand possessively rests on my thigh. The overalls are open at the neck. My collar on plain view. I'm no longer allowed to hide it. Sometimes she attaches a leash. Even out in public.

We park up and get out of the van. Mistress has on a baseball cap. The peak pulled down low over her face. She's also wearing a red wig to hide her raven locks. My dyke-ish crew cut and face are in plain view for all to see.

She is quickly past the front door. I follow her in. She surveys the house as I kneel on the floor in the front room. A gloved hand pats my head as she returns. I have no gloves.

"Take the TV and the other electronics out to the van, slave."

Did I mention she always calls me slave? Never once has she used my name. I often wonder if she knows what it is.

I unhook the TV and carry it out to the van. I return and gather up the consoles. Mistress has loaded a PC and a jewellery box. In the kitchen, I help her carry out a top of the line Sage barista coffee machine. How does she find them? Who tells her which houses to hit?

Mistress heads back to the passenger seat of the van. I close the back and secure the tail lift. Mistress has promised me that she'll not torch the homes now. I feel I'm making a small difference there at least.

I walk past the side of the van as I head for the cab.  As I climb into the cab Mistress is beaming.

"Good girl, slave. Now head for home."

"Yes, Mistress."

"When we get back I want you in latex stockings, gloves and my fave strap on in your mouth. Are we clear?"

"Yes, Mistress." I had to ask, "Mistress, will you be taking my belt off tonight like you said? I've helped you with the job, you said you would."

"Hmm, it depends if you are good, slave. By the way girl, you didn't wear any gloves today and I see you forgot your hat.

"You didn't give me any, Mistress."

"Well, your fingerprints are going to be all over that house now, slave. Also if there were any witnesses it's you they'll be able to describe."

"What should I do, Mistress?"

"Well, I'd not go talking to the police if I were in your shoes, girl. Plus if anybody were to try and cause me trouble I may be forced to mention you were my accomplice. So if you hear of anyone thinking of causing me problems you let me know, slave."

"Yes, Mistress," I sighed.

"Tell you what, you can wear your ballet boots tonight too. Plus if you can get me off more than five times with your tongue I'll let you out of your belt for the evening. But only if you're good, slave."

"Thank you, Mistress Fagin," I responded. The best I'd managed to date was three climaxes. I was going to be chaste for a while longer it seemed.