Many weeks later (fulltime slaves)

The early morning sun was streaming through the kitchen window as Tanya fussed over the preparation of breakfast. The tall red-head hurriedly checked the eggs that were frying, and then threw a quick glance to make sure the toast hadn't popped up yet. Rachel would be down any minute now, and Tanya knew it did not work out well if she was kept waiting for too long.

In the next room, she could hear the occasional bang of furniture being moved around, and a sporadic grunt of effort has her fiancé - Mitchell - tidied up the place and prepared the table for serving.

"Almost ready?" he called out, which prompted a terse reply of "Nearly" from the already-harassed cook.

They'd both been woken up from their slumber at 6:00am with an automated reminder that Rachel had prepared the night before. It was one of Rachel's little joys in life to give Tanya and Mitchell unexpected tasks to do at all hours of the day, typically with a twist or kick to the request that could turn what should have been the mundanely easy into the manically hard.

It had turned into a race for them to get from their own house over to Rachel's, find the hidden key that Rachel always ensured took some hunting around the front yard, and then dash inside to start their duties.

Mitchell poked his head around a corner and raised an eyebrow.

"I think I heard her walking around upstairs!"

Tanya gave him a stern look. "Well, with the amount of noise you were making, I'm not surprised! Hopefully she was already awake!"

Mitchell looked a little concerned for a moment, but then resolved instead just to make the place as presentable as possible and hope for the best. He disappeared again, and Tanya heard the sound of the hoover starting up.

Shaking her head at the commotion he was making, she hurriedly took the eggs off the element, and then scooted over to the toaster, where a butter knife and plate waited for what had to be perfectly toasted bread. On another plate near by, some hash browns sat slowly cooling down, having been removed from the oven only moments earlier.

The toaster popped, and Tanya breathed a sigh of relief as the toast appeared to be just brown enough for Rachel's liking, without having been too long and resulted in being burnt.

Burnt toast was not on the list of "acceptable" things in Rachel's book, and deviating from that book came with it's own perils...

Footsteps coming down the stairs alerted them both to Rachel's imminent arrival, and Tanya heard Mitchell quickly put the hoover away.

"Stall for a few moments!" she hissed as loudly as she dared, hoping Mitchell would hear.

As Rachel finally reached the dining room, Mitchell stood to attention and said in a loud and clear voice "Good Morning Mistress. Do you want to inspect the dining room to ensure it is up to standard?"

The clear, crisp and obedient voice that Mitchell spoke in wouldn't have been out of place if he'd been a corporal presenting himself for inspection to his platoon's sergeant. As it was though, one key difference that stood out between an army corporal and Mitchell was that, even in this day and age, not many army corporals went to Parade dressed in high heels, a frilly, lacy French Maid's outfit, a little black bonnet on their head, and cherry-red lipstick plastered over his lips.

Rachel's instructions to them this morning hadn't just specified what they were to do, but also what they were to wear while doing it. Their current clothes had been thoughtfully supplied to them in a little bundle outside Rachel's front door when they'd arrived.

For getting here in the first place, they'd only been permitted the usual attire that Rachel had supplied for them to keep at their place, and that was to be worn whenever they were travelling between their house and hers.

In Mitchell's case, that outfit had been a tight pink blouse, shiny satin panties, and his choice of whether to wear bright pink hot pants that inevitable mushed in his genitals. Today he'd chosen the hot pants on his way over, but there were other days where he saved himself the discomfort but instead had to expose his ass and crotch in the satin panties that utterly completed his emasculation.

In Tanya's case, her travel outfit consisted of an anime pony-girl outfit that admittedly didn't show her private parts, but nonetheless covered them in the most embarrassing fluffy pink material possible. A tail extended out from her ass, and she had to wear special gloves and shoes that looked like hooves. To complete the look with a few special touches, Rachel had also instructed her that if she was ever passed by someone, that Tanya had to whinny and trot on the spot. The first time Rachel had told her that, Tanya had assumed incorrectly that the woman had been kidding. Unfortunately, Rachel then proceeded to see Tanya disobey that instruction, and had taken great pleasure in harnessing Tanya and "riding" her around a park, using a soft whip on her unprotected backside to encourage Tanya to take her more seriously next time.

Now, Tanya knew to throw herself into the role without hesitation or consideration for her own dignity.

Mercifully it had been relatively dark and quiet as they had exited their car out on the street where they ritually had to park when visiting their Mistress. It had allowed them the relative luxury of dashing onto Rachel's property unnoticed, and it had only taken a couple of minutes of foraging to find the key hidden in plant box. The entire time, Mitchell had been hyper-conscious of the hot pants and their uncomfortable compression of his manhood, and when he'd occasionally looked across at Tanya he'd also noticed she was a deeper red than the typical pony was able to achieve.

Now, Mitchell was dressed in a French Maid's outfit for cleaning Rachel's house and it was a toss up as to which outfit was worse.

Rachel stopped and didn't say anything. Instead she chose to simply look at Mitchell up and down, a sardonic smile gracing her face. Her gaze lingered on his crotch, and then his chest, and then his face, barely making eye contact but ensuring that he felt thoroughly objectified and ridiculed.

After a few drawn out pauses, and once she saw the slow flush in Mitchell's cheeks that signaled his true embarrassment, Rachel nodded slowly in satisfaction. "Well, I certainly know you were cleaning down here. Or at least, it was either you or a herd of wild buffalo!"

Mitchell gulped at that, wondering if Mistress Rachel had been woken up too early and might be in the mood for some early morning retribution.

Rachel idly glanced around the room and grunted in a way that Mitchell desperately hoped signaled approval.

Rachel stared at him, as he slowly sweated on the spot, standing to attention in his extraordinarily feminine French maid's attire and increasingly feeling the humiliation of the situation.

"Well, it's clean enough I suppose..." she started, and then raised an eyebrow as Mitchell let out an explosive sigh of relief. She stared at him and he fell silent again. "As I was saying," she continued, with emphasis, "it's clean enough I suppose, so we won't need a severe penalty today."

Mitchell looked at Rachel and then cast his eyes to the ground. What did she mean by that? Was there no need for any kind of penalty at all?

Rachel let him stew on that for a few seconds longer, before turning to the kitchen and announcing in a calculated, bored voice, "Bitch Slut. Bitch Slut! Come here now!"

Mitchell looked up at the kitchen as Tanya hovered into view, having been summoned by the name that Rachel now commonly referred to her as.

Mitchell cast his eyes down again.

Just as Mitchell had been made to change when he'd walked in the door, so had Tanya been told in their instructions to strip out of her travelling clothes and instead don a new outfit. Tanya was now dressed only in a chef's apron with "I'm a Silly Bitch Slut!" emblazoned across it, over the top of a padded training bra for a twelve year-old that severely squeezed even her relatively small breasts, and a matching pair of similarly sized panties that were busily riding their way deeper and deeper into her crotch and ass with every step she took.

"Yes Mistress?" she asked, trying to get the right tone of submissiveness into her voice.

"Bitch Slut. Your fiancé here need a light punishment for waking me up, just to remind him that even if he does a good job of cleaning up, that he must also take care with how he goes about doing it!"

Rachel took a couple of steps closer to Tanya, and stared at the red-headed submissive while Tanya studied the details of the floor.

"Do you agree Bitch Slut?" Rachel asked, rhetorically.

"Of course." Tanya said quietly, knowing that there was only one possible answer to that question.

"So," Rachel continued, barely waiting for Tanya's automatic reply, "please sit down on that chair, take your fiancé over your knee, lift up his skirt, and smack him on the bottom four times."

Mitchell's eyes widened slightly at the punishment. Even if it wasn't as severe as some of the other one's Rachel could dream up, having his future wife involved in the punishment always embarrassed him further.

Tanya looked up at Rachel wordlessly as the instructions soaked in, and for a few seconds she hesitated. Rachel didn't have to say anything though, and just stared hard at Tanya until the apron-clad woman started to move towards a chair by the table. Pulling the chair back a little, Tanya sat down and then winced slightly as the act of sitting down caused her tiny panties to wedge up even more. Trying not to show the discomfort, she instead patted her knees and indicated to Mitchell that he was to come over.

Unable to hide his ****, Mitchell shuffled over and stood in front of his fiancé, feminized and frilly in his black and white lace. He looked at Rachel once, hoping for a reprieve, but it soon became evident that none would be forthcoming.

With a wince of his own, he moved closer to Tanya and then bent over her knee. He blushed slightly as he felt her lift up his skirt and expose the French knickers he wore underneath.

Rachel interrupted before Tanya could lift up her hand, and addressed Mitchell.

"Now, just before you receive each smack, you are to say 'I'm a naughty naughty sissy, and my soft girly bottom needs a good firm smack!'"

Mitchell closed his eyes, but then nodded in acknowledgement.

"And then..." Rachel continued, just as Mitchell was about to open his mouth, "once all four smacks are done, you are to beg me to allow you to kiss my ass..."

Mitchell clenched his jaw, but nodded once again. Satisfied, Rachel signaled Tanya, and the red-head slowly raised her hand in preparation.

Rachel tapped her foot expectantly, and Mitchell didn't dare too long for fear of the punishment being stepped up a couple of notches.

"I'm a naughty naughty sissy, and my soft girly bottom needs a good firm smack!" he said, although his voice lacked conviction.

Tanya brought her hand down on the soft satin of Mitchell's panties, and her fiancé yelped at the blow. Tanya knew better than to go softly with the smacking. Even if they tried to fake it, Rachel would always find a way of detecting it, and then it would be worse for both of them.

Tanya raised her hand again, and felt Mitchell tense his body. His hairy legs looked ridiculous in the French Maid outfit, and that was without even considering the feminine cut of his panties and the way they awkwardly framed his bottom.

Through clenched teeth, Mitchell repeated "I'm a naughty naughty sissy..."

"Louder!" Rachel interrupted.

"I'm a naught naughty sissy!" Mitchell shouted, "and my soft girly bottom needs a good firm smack!"

Tanya swiftly spanked him again, and a wave of sympathy swept over her as she felt Mitchell's body slide forward from the **** of the blow. He grunted again, and she knew that he'd be struggling not only with the stinging blows, but also the knowledge that his fiancé had such an up close view of his derriere, clad only in panties that even Tanya would have once thought were too girly for herself.

It was strange, Tanya mused, as she raised her hand again and waited for the signal to strike a third time, but even after all the embarrassing scenarios they'd been through at their Mistresses' hands, there was still the capacity to be even further humiliated when they were made to inflict the embarrassment on each other. There still flickered a flame of stubborn resistance in each of them, even if outwardly they had come to accept their new roles as submissive servants of Mistress Rachel.

Mitchell paused, and Tanya looked at him with mild concern. Pausing for too long risked Mistress Rachel's wrath, as she took their obedience as an absolute given. Any deviation from that needed correcting, and she'd proven to have had quite the imagination when it came to correcting deviations.

Spanking Mitchell had at least distracted her from her own discomfort and embarrassment, but as Mitchell paused and prepared for the final two whacks, she began to feel the uncomfortable pull and pressure of the padded girl's training bra and matching colorful panties. They squeezed and compressed in the most irritating ways possible, and that was even without the garish yellow and red color scheme that was splashed across them. Her relatively small breasts threatened to spill out of them, and the panties seemed entirely unable to meet even the simple requirements of covering the hair of her pussy.

Then she heard the words again, and automatically her hand arced downwards and true, landing flush on Mitchell's satin-clad backside and causing another "oomph". Mitchell's backside was now turning red under the treatment that Tanya was dishing out, and she herself blushed slightly at being the cause of her own fiancé's discomfort.

Mitchell winced again as he began to feel his ass throb, and he involuntarily looked sideways at Rachel, who seemed to be both amused and satisfied with the ordeal that she was witnessing.

As Mitchell and Rachel made eye contact, the dominant woman slowly raised an eyebrow, simultaneously conveying the absolute expectation that he would say the phrase again, and daring him to defy her and see exactly what would come of such unwise stubbornness.

Mitchell closed his eyes, but steadied himself once last time.

"I'M A NAUGHTY, NAUGHTY SISSY, AND MY SOFT GIRLY BOTTOM NEEDS A GOOD SMACK!" he shouted, before tensing for half a second and then feeling Tanya firmly apply the necessary treatment to his already sore bottom. He had vowed not to cry out, a rebellious part of him still trying to defy his Mistress, but the sound escaped his lips anyway. Rachel nodded in approval.

"Well done Tanya!" she said, walking over and leaning in close to inspect her handiwork. Now, with both women staring and fixated on his satin-panties, Mitchell's face flushed the same red as his bottom.

Even as the pain of the blows began to slowly subside though, Mitchell was struggling not only with the twin emotions of embarrassment and humiliation, but with an entirely inappropriate but equally unavoidable sensation of arousal.

He'd been down this path before. The intense experience of Rachel's punishments and training rituals were - of course - terrible. They were designed to rob him of his masculinity and his identity, and only a weird freak could possibly enjoy them. Which only made the self-realization that hewas - on some level - beginning to enjoy the experiences all that more embarrassing.

Of course, this latest little episode wasn't over yet either. As he slowly pulled himself off Tanya's lap, he turned to face Rachel and began the task of begging her to let him kiss her ass. At the same time, he hoped like hell that she didn't see the bulge growing in his knickers, and that pushed against the fabric of an undergarment not designed for his particular kind of equipment.

"Well?" Rachel said, waiting.

Mitchell dropped his head slightly, in a classic submissive pose, and crossed his hands in front of his crotch. Partly to show the right level of meekness, and partly to also hide his erection. If Rachel saw his erection, then there were all kinds of "fun" that Rachel would be prone to want to engage in. A traitorous part of Mitchell niggled away in the back of his mind, teasing him that he should move his hands away so that Rachel could "discover" his state... leave himself at her mercy... let her imagination run wild over his helpless flesh... Mitchell shook his head to try and clear away the fantasies that were playing out in the theater of his mind.

"Mistress, please let me kiss your ass." He said, politely and respectfully.

Rachel simply laughed, and looked at Tanya. "Can you believe this? Your fiancé is such a polite and respectful soul... but that was the most limp-wristed request I ever heard!"

Mitchell's cheeks went red at being addressed this way, but he didn't move a muscle.

"So," Rachel continued, "until you offer something worth my time, I have absolutely no intention with granting you the pleasure of kissing my ass!"

Mitchell looked confused for a moment, but then the reality of what she was suggesting settled in. This was a strategy Rachel had employed before. One of them was tasked with pleasing Rachel, and the only way to do it was to embarrass the other.

It was Rachel's way of showing dominance in Tanya and Mitchell's relationship. Sure, they might be engaged and Rachel may have blessed - or at least permitted - their future marriage. But by getting them to humiliate each other, Rachel was saying "Tanya may be your future wife, but I own her and I own you. You may be loyal to her, but your loyalty to me is higher than even that, so if I want you to betray her and embarrass her just for my entertainment, you'll do it without hesitation."

Mitchell knew that if he was to satisfy Rachel, then he'd need to embarrass Tanya in some way, to prove that Rachel was indeed the most dominant person in his life.

Mitchell looked down again and his mind raced. It was a delicate line to walk: doing enough to satisfy Rachel, while doing the least to humiliate his fiancé.