In the Employ of Mr. Cutler
Part Four
Life and Death
by Razor7826

The sharp buzz of an alarm clock filled Janice's tiny room.

Already? Please, Mistress, just a few more minutes. Her desire to rest would go unfulfilled; she was fully aware of the punishments for tardiness.

Janice rubbed her eyes, took a moment to collect her thoughts, and got out of bed. Like every other day in Mr. Cutler's mansion, she devoured the small meal on a tray near the doggy dear, took a maid uniform from her small dresser and put it on her body. It was identical to each of the other uniforms she had worn for the past month: all black except for a white frock, puffy shoulders, a small white headband, and knee-length skirt. She had no idea how many different uniforms she had worn; all she knew was that a new uniform would be waiting in her dresser when she returned from the day's housework, and her sullied uniform would be removed.

Janice looked at the clock and realized she only had one more minute before work began. Stood at the foot of her locked door and sighed as she felt the weight of the red ballgag in her hand.

We don't even lock these things. All they do is hurt my jaw.

Irregardless of her feelings, she placed strap around her head and snapped the gag into place. Moments later, the click of the deadbolt filled the small room, and Janice swung the door open into the narrow hallway. From doors on each side of the hallway spilled maid's, each dressed exactly as Janice. She had long since learned to look past the empty and sad expressions on her coworkers face- they only reminded her of the meaningless existence of life in Mr. Cutler's mansion.

For weeks Janice's life had been filled with the monotonous tasks of maintaining a hundred year old household. Each hour of each day was meticulously scheduled by the Mistress, giving Janice no rest as she was forced from room to room. Most of her jobs entailed simple cleanup duties, as the more specialized jobs like cooking were relegated to those with more experience. Janice could tell that many of her coworkers had been in the mansion for years, but probably none longer than the Mistress.

Her encounters with the Mistress during the past month had all been brief, and at no point did she receive the same brutal attention she was given in the basement. Janice still shuddered at the memories of her sexual torture; mindless house labor was a relief after all she had been put through. The Mistress was omnipresent in the mansion, but she had too much responsibility to abuse Janice like she used to. For that, Janice was thankful. Their brief interactions were limited to commands and callous judgments of Janice's work.

Janice noticed unusual traffic heading and out of the ballroom. She could tell something was being setup.

I don't care what goes on in there. Just let this day be over.

Janice froze. She had just broken her cardinal rule for surviving life in Mr. Cutler's mansion: never, ever, look forward to anything.

Which philosophy is it that says we can't be happy unless we appreciate the moment? Janice couldn't think of the word, but she knew it to be true. Her life was tolerable as long as she focused on her work; when she let her thoughts wander astray, everything would fall apart, the carefully constructed mental barriers crumbled, forcing Janice to stare at the emptiness of her new life.

She wanted to leap back into the frame of mind she held moments prior, but it was too late. She sobbed the rest of her shift.

When she returned to her room that evening, there was a note on the door.

"You are to report to the ball room at two o'clock P.M. tomorrow afternoon. You are relieved of your regular duties until then." Janice was thrilled that she could sleep in for once, and never questioned the unusual leniency of her masters.

She awoke without the urging of an alarm for the first time in over a month.

Hmmm... this feels great. Janice stretched in her bed and looked at the clock. Over another hour before work. Looks like I finally have some time to relax.

The time off was not nearly as great as Janice had hoped. With nothing to do, time dragged to a crawl. As Janice watched her clock tick through the minutes, she finally acknowledged her existence as prisoner.

I think I actually prefer the housework to this.

Janice began to cry. Her loud and uncontrolled sobs filled the room and spilled into the hall.

No! I can't let them hear me... The damned Mistress will beat me if I upset the quiet! She turned over in bed and muffed her cries with her pillow.

As Janice calmed down, she realized that she had to get out of Mr. Cutler's mansion. The only thing keeping her imprisoned were the electric shock collar. All of her attempts to remove it, no matter how quick or clever, resulted in excruciatingly painful shocks and not even a tear in it's outer shell.

However, Janice's vow to keep an eye open had gleaned much information over the past month. As Janice was assigned tasks throughout the mansion, she paid attention to the tendrils of wiring which comprised the electric The floor strips were an opaque metal, but the wiring along the walls was bare; Janice could see and trace the colored the wires as they branched throughout the house, each color clearly signifying a single 'zone' of permission. Near the kitchen and the maid rooms, the wires were sparse, with only small bundles running along the walls. Janice made little mental notes of how many wires were where, and on the twentieth day of work, she realized where the wires went. In the middle of the first floor, between the den and the kitchen, was what Janice had initially assumed to be a large closet; perhaps that's what it was at one point, but she was now certain it held the controls for the fence system as well as the electric generator which had kept the collars working, even through several power outages.

Janice's had never glimpsed inside the room, but she witnessed the Mistress enter several times, each time immediately following a power outage.

That is how I can get in... Just sneak in after her, and disconnect the fencing. Janice froze and remembered how easily the Mistress overpowered her in the past. I'll kill her if I have to. She deserves it for all the horrors she's committed.

The hard part would be spurring a power outage. If Janice were to wait for one to naturally occur, it was unlikely she would be able to follow the Mistress into the control room. Janice had ruled out a few of the more obvious- and risky- methods. The thought of slashing electrical wires with a knife sent shivers down Janice's spine- lethal shocks were not the bringer of escape that she desired. Worse still would be flooding the bathroom above the control room- Janice had no idea if the water would even seep into the control room, let alone damage any of the systems. Worse still was the punishment for a failed attempt- the tracking beacon in her collar ensured she would be caught and returned to a life of sexual torture.

As Janice went through the scenarios, she realized that subtlety was not an option; she had to knock out the power, break the backup generator, and get the hell out of the mansion. Damaging the house wires was her best bet- safety was not the concern that she thought it would be. She would rather die than suffer the retribution for her failure. She would take knife with a plastic handle from the kitchen and attempt to cut through the live wiring in the house. She assumed that shorting the wires together would cause a power outage, if not more damage. The high risk was little of her concern, for death would be an acceptable consolation prize.

With her plan in mind, Janice went to work scouting the peculiars. Getting a small knife involved no more than pilfering one from the kitchen drying rack. The wires were not difficult, either; she would use the knife to unscrew the light switch across the hall from the control room and short the two connecting wires. As long as she made sure to only hold the plastic casing of the knife, switch, and wires, she would be safe. All that was left was to wait until she was assigned to clean the bathroom.

The opportunity came six days later. Janice entered the small bathroom with her cleaning supplies in tow, and the knife tucked into the pouch of her frock. She turned the faucet on lightly and then went to work on the light switch. The screws came out easily. Janice pulled on the switch casing and it slid from the wall. Several wires followed the casing. Janice raised the knife to continue her mission, then paused.

So this is it; I'll either escape, or die trying. This is what I vowed to do, right?

Janice began to question her willingness to throw away her life. There was a good chance she would die today, and in that moment of realization, she realized that just being alive was not enough, that a life of unfulfilled desires was worse than none at all. She would be free from Mr. Cutler's grasp, no matter the cost.

Janice carefully unscrewed the red wire from the switch, killing the bathroom lights, then cut the black wire leaving 4 ends of exposed copper wiring. Without hesitation, Janice connected red directly to black, and within seconds her plan was set into the motion.

A loud pop echoed across the mansion. The whir of the air-conditioner faded. The beam of light underneath the door receded. Screams filled the hallways, and an unfamiliar voice yelled "Fire!". Janice knew that it was a slave girl which had removed her ballgag.

She'll be punished for that. Janice stopped herself. The rules of the Cutler mansion no longer concerned her.

Janice opened the door at the perfect moment. The Mistress was nervously fumbling with the lock to the control room. As she entered and tried to close the door behind her, Janice stepped in and slammed the door

"Miss Gardner, what on Earth do you think you are..." The Mistress' inquisition was halted by a knife to her side. She stumbled backwards in shock. "How could you... we... we spared you from the basement, and now this? I... I... it took me years to escape Mr. Cutler's torment, to join his as his torturer... but... you ungrateful little cunt..." The mistress began mumbling, and Janice ignored her.

In front of Janice sat an old computer which displayed information for each of the slaves and security zones. Beneath all them was another indicator which read:

COLLAR REMOVAL PREVENTION: ONLINE

Janice moved the mouse to the bottom zone and clicked. The shocks which prevented collar removal were now offline, and Janice would have no need to do destroy the small backup generator that chugged along beside her.

Well, that was easy. Now, let's see if it actually did anything. Janice reached down and pulled the knife from the bleeding woman's side, and tried to cut away the locked collar from her own neck. The usual shocks that resulted from fiddling with the collar were gone. Within a minute, the collar was hacked apart and on the floor. Janice was a free woman.

None of the panicked maids realized Janice was collarless as she slipped by them. Janice pitied her fellow captives, but pushed on with her goal. As she neared the rear of the mansion, she could see the flickering dance of shadows cast by a fire; Janice was certain the overloaded wiring had caused something to blow out, resulting in the fire that was now spewing smoke throughout the mansion.

Fuck, can't go that way. Janice turned around and made her way to the front door. Mr. Cutler walked past her with a worried look on his face, but did not realize that Janice had removed her collar.

He probably hasn't found his mistress yet. I better hurry up.

Janice was twenty feet out the front door when a horrendous male scream echoed throughout the estate. The scream carried with it the fear of losing love, and Janice gained a cold glimpse into the relationship between a cruel master and a special slave. She also knew that, along with The Mistress' dying body, was a collar, the tattered remains of which littered the floor.

I guess it is now or never.

The chase was on, and Janice was ready.