When my friend gave me the tip for a house cleaning service, I had no clue that I would be the one d

When my friend gave me the tip for a house cleaning service, I had no clue that I would be the one doing the cleaning. When the “house cleaner” arrived, she was an outfit non-typical to someone you would expect to be cleaning a home, tall heels, a tight dress and her hair done. She was tall with dark brown hair, carrying a duffel bag. I thought that it was non-traditional, but if she could do the job, then I will leave her be… until she shut the door behind her. As the door slammed shut and she flicked the deadbolt, she immediately ordered me to my knees. “What?,” I exclaimed, “How will that help you clean my house?” “Do it,” she barked. Too timid to protest, I did as she ordered. The woman approached me, held my hair back and fastened a thin, pink collar around my neck. I stammered, trying to rationalize what was happening and tears started to well up in my eyes. The door bell rang. “Oh good, my helper is here,” the woman flicked the lock open and the person let herself in. “Oh fuck,” I yelped when I saw my friend, the one who had given me the tip, walk in.“Language!”, the tall woman exclaimed, shoving my face into the floor and giving my ass a swat. I couldn’t hold back the tears anymore, tears streamed down my face. My friend laughed, “You were always a little baby,” she said, as she pinched my cheek. “Let’s get her dressed, then we can get her to work,” the taller women instructed. My friend pushed me down onto my back and without a word began stripping me. I was paralyzed. My friend began with a thick white diaper, then covered the diaper with pink plastic pants and finishing with a frilly pink dress far too short for me. “Perfect for a little princess like you” she cooed, as she helped back up. “Now, let’s start with the kitchen,” the taller woman said“Why the kitchen, it isn-,” before I could blink, the woman had grabbed me by wrist and had me bent over the couch, plastic pants and diaper at my ankles, swatting my butt, “Never”, *swat*, “talk” *swat* “back” *swat* “to” *swat* “me” *swat* “again”. I was full on bawling by the time she finished, my ass bright red and throbbing from pain. The woman slid the diaper and plastic pants back up and forcefully turned me around to face her“Now, where is the kitchen,” she asked, in an eerily cheerful way.I tried to think clearly but the pain was overwhelming and without another thought, I walked to my kitchen. “Oh. my. god. This kitchen is disgusting,” the woman exclaimed as we entered, “Dishes first, little piggy”I obediently did the dishes, silently, too afraid to find out what would happen if I didn’t. The two woman degraded and abused me for a few hours while I cleaned my home. No bathroom breaks (”But you are wearing such a cute little diaper”, they would say), no breaks, except to drink what I was told. By the end of the night, my bladder was bursting and I couldn’t hold it any longer. The women noticed my potty dance and increased the torture until I collapsed and found my self in a puddle of my own piddle in my bathroom. “Looks like you are going to need another hour to clean up your little mess”, my friend said. “Does she know how much we charge per hour, she should’ve thought before she had an accident,” the taller woman responded. -- source link

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