As it was nearing Christmas, Gemma decided to drop round and visit her mother, as she hadn’t seen her for a while.
She’d phoned first, to check if she was in; her mother had said she’d be delighted to see her.
To her surprise, when she got there, a young woman answered the door.
“Hi, you must be Gemma”, she said. “I’m Amy.”
Amy then went back into the flat. “Miss Jill!”, she called. “Your daughter is here.”
Jill came out and embraced Gemma.
“Hi, mum”, said Gemma. She was preoccupied, however, with Amy. “Who’s she?”
“Amy’s just staying with me while she finds a flat”, said Jill. “She’s got a job at my salon, but nowhere to live.”
“Oh”, said Gemma. “She’s cute.”
“Yep, I know”, Jill said, with a smile on her face.
“Mum! She looks half your age.”, Gemma said with a giggle.
Amy then poked her head round the door.
“Miss Jill! Would you and your daughter like tea?”
“Yes, thank you, Amy”, Jill said.
Amy spent a few minutes making the tea, then brought it in.
She made it for both of them, then turned to go, curtseying as she left.
As she turned, she brushed against the tray. The tea pot spat a tiny amount of hot water onto Gemma, who flinched.
“You clumsy bitch!”, Jill cried. “You’ve scalded my daughter!”,
“Please, Miss, it was an accident!”, Amy whined, immediately dropping to her knees.
Gemma protested that she was alright, but it made no difference.
Jill slapped Amy. Hard. The crack echoed round the living room.
Whimpering, Amy scampered back off to the kitchen.
“Mum! You can’t just go around hitting people!”, said Gemma, getting up and following her.
“I can if I own them…”, said Jill, quietly, to herself.
Gemma had chased after Amy and found her crying in the kitchen.
“Please, Miss, I’m sorry!”, Amy said, thinking Gemma was going to tell her off as well. “I didn’t mean to hurt you!”
“It’s all right, Amy, no harm done”, said Gemma, reaching out.
Amy actually flinched.
Gemma, shocked by Amy’s reaction, pulled back.
“I’m not going to hurt you! I just wanted to see if you were all right.”
“Fine, Miss”, replied Amy. “It’s you that was hurt.”
Gemma could see that wasn’t really true. Amy’s face was really red.
“But mum hit you!”, she cried. “There’s no excuse for that.”
“Please, Miss, forget it”, said Amy. “I don’t want to get into more trouble.”
Gemma was only trying to help, but Amy was as scared of her as she was of Jill. What the hell was wrong with her?
Gemma stomped back into the living room and glared at her mother.
“What the hell’s wrong with you! The poor kid’s terrified of you! She’s frightened of me, as well.”
“Good. She knows her place, then”, was all Jill said.
“Are you nuts, or something? You can’t treat people like that!”
“Shows how little you know”, said Jill. “I can.”
Gemma had never been hit so hard…
Gemma awoke on the sofa. She tried to scream…
She was chained up, with a metal collar tightly fitted round her neck. She was also firmly gagged, with an ornate metal muzzle that went over her head and locked round the back.
“Good”, Jill said, “You’re awake. Get into the kitchen and let Amy show you your duties. As a new slave, you’re even lower in the food chain than she is…”
Gemma struggled to get free, but it was no use. Tears streamed down her cheeks. It was as if she didn’t know her mother at all…
Amy, ordered by Jill, came in, clipped a leash onto Gemma’s collar and towed her out into the kitchen. She then pointed to a wicker basket by the back door.
“As you’re lower than me, that’s where you’ll sleep between midnight and 6am”, she said. “Otherwise, you will stand by it ready for any orders that you get given.”
“Speaking of that”, she continued, “the bins need emptying. All of them, including food and recycling. There’s a covered walkway outside to the bins, so you shouldn’t get too wet or cold.”
Gemma gestured at herself, and the fact that apart from the chains and the muzzle she was naked. Amy expected her to go outside like that!?
“When you’ve earned a uniform, you can have one”, Amy said. Jill then called from the lounge.
“Coming, Miss!”, called Amy, leaving Gemma to her task…