Go home

You head home, more than ready to add a few rules to make your life easier instead of making it harder. Shriveled up like they are, your udders look like old lady tits and you hate how ugly they are, but it does make driving much easier.

You pull into your apartment’s parking garage and make your way upstairs. John, your neighbor, is leaving just as you pass his apartment and he wolf-whistles at you.

“I heard you were a stupid cow.”

You blush bright red, “Thank you, Master John.”

Once you're back in your apartment, you gratefully shuck off your uncomfortable shoes and head to the kitchen where the rulebook is still waiting for you on the counter.

You start with a few to make your life easier.

Old rule: When held in prolonged bondage, submissives still suffer from muscle cramping and atrophy but do not suffer from blood clots or other major problems. This means that submissives can be bound for years at a time without issue.

Old rule: Thanks to medical advances, piercings, tattoos, and other body modification heals in hours or days instead of weeks or months. Body modifications that were previously impossible are now possible. Submissives do not get infections or unintended medical complications from body modifications.

Old rule: When a submissive gets pregnant and they or their dominant do not wish to keep the child, there are excellent adoption services and plenty of good homes for the kids.

Then deciding you need a failsafe, just in case something goes really wrong, you add:

Old rule: If Jane Doe says “The fun is over” three times in a row then the world will revert to the way it was before she made any changes, except Jane will remember everything but be permanently aroused and permanently unable to orgasm.

And then some rules to make it more fun.

Old rule: Any rule that has been in place for longer than 48 hours cannot be removed by Jane Doe.

Old rule: Submissives must earn luxuries from dominants. If they have not earned the right otherwise, submissives live in single room apartments on the basement level. Windows are small and barred. Beds and furniture are considered luxury items.

The world shifts and changes. You’re sitting on the floor in a small room with the rulebook thankfully still in front of you. A look around and you see a shower in one corner next to the toilet and sink. A pile of heeled shoes sits near the only door. A pile of thin blankets appears to be your new bed. The only source of light is the small, barred window. You shiver in the cold air. The rulebook considers heating to be a luxury apparently.

You are sitting there, taking in your new but somehow also old apartment when your stomach gurgles at you. You haven’t eaten much today. The contents of your new apartment is sparse and there doesn’t seem to be much to eat.

You could go out to eat or…you look at the rulebook speculatively.