Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Title: Living The Dicestyle
Author: anonymouse
Part: 1
Summary: A young woman who struggles to pay her rent plays a dice game
of chance with her landlord neighbor.  His domination and control of her
begins slowly as he lures her ever more deeply into his trap.
Keywords: MF, slow



   LIVING THE DICESTYLE - Chapter One

   My apartment on the top floor of the old W.  Burrows & Sons building
was, like the rest of the building, in need of major renovations.  However;
it was clean, comfortable and most of all, rent was cheap.  It also had a
kind of nostalgic charm for me in that it reminded me of lodgings I had
twenty years earlier when I was a college student.  Those were fun,
carefree days and, after recently finalizing a bitter and acrimonious
divorce, I felt I needed some fun in my life again.

   The landlord, Mr.  Ademetos, lived alone below me on the first floor. 
He was very charming and I liked him the moment we met.  He had that kind
of gentlemanly, self-confident air about him that I found very attractive
in men.  There was also a lively glint in his eye whenever we spoke that
betrayed his age and gave me the impression he could easily be fifteen
years younger than his middle-fifties age.  More than this he revealed a
playful side that I thought was very endearing for all sorts of reasons.

   It first came to light several months ago when I went downstairs to pay
him the weekly rent.  Even though it wasn't a large amount I'd had a
particularly unfortunate week with other bills that required immediate cash
payments.  I had just enough cash left in my savings to pay Mr.  Ademetos
his rent but, as I explained to him, that would leave me completely broke
until my next pay day, which wasn't until the end of the month.

   He was sympathetic to my predicament and offered me a uniquely generous
solution.  It was simple and even fun.  He reached deep into his pockets
and pulled out a dice.

   "I'll tell you what, Ingrid," he said.  "You can roll this dice.  If the
result is a one or a two, I'll take your rent today.  If it's a three or a
four, I'll wait until the end of the month for your rent."

   "And if it's a five or a six?" I asked, intrigued by the game he
suggested.

   "If it's a five or a six," he said and paused to think for a minute. 
"If it's a five or a six, I'll waive your rent entirely for the rest of the
month but..."

   My heart skipped a beat and I smiled excitedly.  "But?"

   "But you'll have to work it off for me," he added.  "As you can see my
current maid isn't doing a very good job."

   I glanced past him over his shoulder into his apartment.  It didn't
appear to be any more untidy than my own; which is to say, it was
relatively neat and it was merely the run down condition of the building
that made it seem otherwise.

   "What do you say, Ingrid?  Are you game to take a chance?"

   I looked into his eyes; his teeth gleamed in a broad, friendly grin. 
"OK," I replied.  I then smiled broadly myself.  "OK, I'm game!  I mean;
what have I got to lose?"

   "That's the spirit!" he laughed and handed me the dice.

   It felt light in my hand when I rattled it around in readiness to cast
it on the floor between us.  I then blew a quick superstitious breath into
my hand holding the dice and dropped it to the floor.  It bounced several
times on the threadbare carpet before it revealed its result.

   "Five!" I squealed instant delight at my win.

   "Yes, five it is," Mr.  Ademetos echoed.  He reached down and collected
the dice from the floor.  "It must be your lucky day!"

   "Yes, Mr.  Ademetos!" I replied happily.

   "Well," I said.  I didn't know what to say next.

   "Well, indeed.  It appears as if I have you as my maid for the rest of
the month.  Are you looking forward to that?"

   I actually hadn't had time to consider what that entailed but I nodded
agreeably nonetheless.  "When do I start?"

   "Tell you what; go back upstairs and make a list of your work schedule
for me.  I'll use it to create your roster of duties.  Bring it back down
as soon as you're done and you'll start tomorrow.  Do you have to work
tomorrow?"

   "No, it's Saturday," I replied.

   "Good," Mr.  Ademetos said.  "You'll begin at eight in the morning. 
That's not too early for you, is it?"

   "Oh, no!  I'm an early riser," I said enthusiastically.

   "Good.  Make it seven then," he said.  "Now, don't forget to make that
list of times for me.  I have to go out in a minute so just slide it under
my door if I'm not here."

   I nodded agreement and then skipped happily up the stairs to my
apartment.

   -=0=

   Friday night was a strangely restless time for me.  I delivered the list
of my work schedule to Mr.  Ademetos just as he'd wanted and then returned
upstairs to watch television.  There was something about the way Mr. 
Ademetos firstly had joked about his need for a maid and secondly; the way
he referred to me as his new maid.  The former is a common enough joke that
I've even used myself.  But there was something more serious about the
latter; that I was actually going to be a <i>real</i> maid for him.

   It wasn't an unappealing thought; just that it made me feel strange in a
way I'd never felt before.  It conjured thoughts of a Victorian age when
wealthy households employed maids and other servants.  As the television
programs blurred from one into the next I let my thoughts drift to savor
the feeling I had about becoming a real maid.  Questions about what I might
be expected to do reeled in my mind.  Would I have to cook for Mr. 
Adementos; serve him drinks; light his cigars?  I imagined him as one of
those English <i>Lords of the Manor</i>; dressed in a smoking jacket and
sipping brandy while I performed my duties for him.  It was an image I felt
suited his salt-and-pepper grey hair; his dignified, stately demeanor.

   -=0=-

   I woke early Saturday morning and began preparations for my first day as
Mr.  Ademetos's maid.  I emptied my closet of almost all my clothes as I
searched for something suitable to wear.  Ultimately I settled on an
antique plain white cotton blouse and caramel colored billowing full skirt.
I considered wearing pantyhose but ultimately decided on lacy white
stockings with a garter belt; it fitted the fantasy I felt develop from the
previous night.  The choice of shoes proved to be the most difficult to
make.  I looked at a pair of heels I owned; black, with small gold metal
bows on the heels, but they didn't go with my skirt.  In lieu of having
anything else, I chose a pair of low-heeled brown court shoes.

   After I showered I applied fawn colored nail polish to my fingers and
toes and a matching lip gloss.  It began to feel like the preparations for
a date; a strange feeling given it had been so many years since I'd felt
that way I'd almost forgotten what it was like.  The final touch was the
choice of perfume.  <i>Gardenia</i> was my regular choice but I decided on
<i>White Linen</i> for its classic, age-old scent.

   -=0=

   "Good morning Mr.  Ademetos," I said on arrival to his apartment.

   "Good morning, Ingrid," he replied.  "All ready to begin?"

   I felt a sudden rush of nervousness.  "Yes!"

   "Good; come in."

   I followed him into his apartment; my fingers clasped together behind my
back.

   "You look..." He stopped in the middle of the lounge room and turned to
face me.

   I looked myself up and down and felt suddenly afraid I'd over done my
maid costume.  "Is something wrong?"

   "No, you look...perfect," he smiled.  "Delightful, in fact."

   I consciously tried to conceal my relief and smiled warmly back.

   "Turn around; let me see you properly," he said.

   I happily turned on the spot and made my skirt swirl in a theatrical
flourish before I faced him again and gave him a coquettish smile.

   "Very nice," Mr.  Ademetos said by way of approval.  "Except..."

   "Except?"

   "Well, your costume; serving wenches are usually barefoot, aren't they?"
he smiled.

   "I never really thought about it," I replied after a moment of
contemplation.  His description of me as a <i>serving wench</i> also stuck
in my thoughts and caused a brief tingle to run up my spine.  "I suppose
they are," I finally said.

   "You can go into the bathroom to remove your stockings," he said.  He
waved his hand in the direction of a hallway.  "It's the last door on the
left."

   I felt a rush of numbness race from my fingertips and up my arms and
stared blankly for an awkward second at Mr.  Adementos.  In my mind a voice
began loudly telling me, <i>he's telling you to go and remove your
stockings and shoes!</i>

   "You don't have to if you don't want to," Mr.  Ademetos said.  "It's
only a little detail; would you like the dice to decide?"

   His suggestion cut immediately into my hesitation and seemed to sever
any responsibility I had to make a decision.  "Yes, OK," I replied; my
heart lightened at the proposition.  Mr.  Adementos was visibly pleased by
my reply.

   "Alright then; let's see what the dice say," he smiled.  "If you roll
one or two, you can keep your shoes and stockings on."

   I nodded agreeably.

   "If it's a three or a four, you remove them," he said in a slower, more
deliberate tone of voice.

   "And if it's a five or six?" I asked tentatively.

   Mr.  Ademetos folded his arms across his chest and stroked his chin
between his thumb and forefinger.  "If it's a five, you remove your skirt
and top as well.  You are wearing underwear, aren't you?"

   I nodded but wasn't thinking about that.  It felt like all the blood
rushed from my face to puddle in the pit of my stomach.  I swallowed a
solid knot of nerves that threatened to choke me.  "And if it's a six?"

   "If it's a six," Mr.  Ademetos replied with deliberate slowness.  He
left the statement to hang in the air briefly while he retrieved a white
satin apron from the sideboard.  "If it's a six, you can wear this; but
nothing else."

   I gulped.  "You mean..."

   "It's a simple enough challenge, Ingrid.  After all, the odds are very
much in your favor.  What do you say?"

   I stood mutely and considered the possibilities.

   "Of course, if you don't want to play this game, we can end it if you
just pay the rent you owe me," he said solemnly.  "I wouldn't want to do
that to you but; it's up to you."

   He seemed genuinely in favor of his option rather than to put me in dire
financial straits.  It was against every instinct I had but I agreed. 
"Yes," I mumbled.

   "Yes?  Yes, you want to play the game or; yes, you want to pay your
rent?"

   "Yes, I'll play," I whispered the words and sealed my own fate.

   "Here you are then," he said as he handed me a dice.  I reluctantly
accepted it and shivered when he clasped his hands around mine for a brief
moment after I took hold of it.  "Are you ready?"

   I wasn't and I rattled to dice for a long while in my hand to delay the
possible inevitability that I might cast a six.  After a seemingly endless
moment I closed my eyes, held my breath, and dropped the dice to the floor.

   -=0=

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