It was a warm January afternoon in southern California: the third day of January, to be exact. The sky above was a brilliant blue and clear for miles around, and the sun shone brightly down upon two women unpacking luggage from the backseat of a parked car. The younger of these two women, not yet twenty, had long blonde hair that she had tied into a loose pony tail flowing down across one shoulder. She was dressed in a pleasantly cool day dress of a light and warm red colour. There was a backpack slung over her shoulders and she carried a leather bag in one hand. Today was moving day. And this was Celeste St. James’ new home. The woman who accompanied her, the one carrying all the heavy luggage, was the home’s owner. Celeste didn’t know long Karen and her wife Claire had lived here. There were a lot of things she didn’t know about the two women who would soon be her housemates . . . and much, much more. Her relationship with married couple had only just begun about three weeks earlier.<br/><br/>It all began with a letter from Celeste’s college dean informing her that she had been placed on academic probation and that she was losing her residence scholarship. Her grades had dipped well below acceptability. The letter itself wasn’t a surprise. Celeste had been expecting it. But the shock of seeing her doomed fate in writing still hit like a fist to the stomach. Among the happiest moments of her life had been to receive her acceptance letter to this college and approval for residence scholarships. Her life was finally getting better! She would leave her home behind and with it all the unpleasant memories of the last two years. College meant new beginnings. It meant her life was hers now, and she could set about making something of herself. But those happy moments were now bitter memories tinged with regret and sadness. She was left with questions that had no answers, at least none that she could provide. Why hadn’t she tried harder? Why hadn’t she gone to class more? Celeste was a bright girl capable of much when she applied her mind to the task at hand. The proof of that was in her high school transcripts. She’d been a straight A student before. Some might say that college is a whole different thing. And indeed, that’s probably true. But that wasn’t Celeste’s problem. Instead of rising to the challenge when things got tough, she withdrew in on herself. She allowed stress, depression, and anxiety to dictate her life. She had no one to encourage her, no one to push her, no one to hold her accountable when she didn’t live up to her potential. Most of all, she had no one who cared. Why then should Celeste care about herself when no one else did?<br/><br/>And so, the next few days passed in misery. She didn’t sleep, and she hardly ate. There were some days where she barely managed to drag herself out of bed at all. What was the point? Nothing mattered anymore. A little melodramatic, perhaps. Celeste did have options. The letter from the dean explained that she had two semesters left to improve her grades before being suspended. The letter also informed her that, though her scholarships were being taken away, she could apply for student funding that might allow her to remain in the college residence. She could get a part-time job; she could get a full-time job if she really wanted. There were plenty of waitressing positions available in the town, and Celeste had some experience with that. She was also quite pretty, and people tended to like pretty waitresses. They tipped them well, too. Yes, Celeste had options. But she didn’t care. She didn’t want to have options. She wanted something to go<em>right</em>. And then one day, out of the blue, something did.<br/><br/>A notification appeared on her phone. It was a response to an e-mail that she’d nearly forgotten sending. There were two women who’d posted a curious ad on a BDSM website for locals that Celeste joined a few months earlier on a whim. She was curious about the scene, though she didn’t really know in what capacity. She knew that she was submissive, and she knew also that she wasn’t into some of the truly extreme kinks that others seemed to enjoy. Masochism? No thanks. She had no desire to be hurt for the sake of pain and pain alone. But she longed for a dominant presence in her life. That much she knew. And when she read the ad these two women posted online, she knew also that it resonated with her in ways she could hardly comprehend. They were looking for a younger, gay woman to join their ‘family.’ She had to be submissive; she had to be open-minded. They weren’t looking for a slave or a pet. They were after something more intimate, more sweet. Celeste read the ad about 15 times before, on a particularly lonely night in early December, she worked up the courage to send them an e-mail and inquire. She didn’t really expect a response. But here it was, waiting in her inbox. When she opened it, she prepared herself for the disappointment of another rejection, but what she found instead was a thoughtful letter that would change her life forever.<br/><br/>Over the next weeks, Celeste met with Karen Fitzpatrick and her wife Claire several times: a few face-to-face meetings, but they mostly interacted through e-mails and video-chat. Eventually there was an “interview.” Celeste had been terribly nervous for that, and not because she was shy, quiet, and insecure. It was because she wanted this to work more than she had wanted anything in her life, more even than she wanted college acceptance. And that desire had very little to do with the fact that they were offering her a place to live free of charge. As far as Celeste could remember, they hadn’t even mentioned that part before the interview. But perhaps they had. That day felt like a long time ago now; so much had happened since. She wanted it because what they offered excited her both sexually and in much more meaningful ways. They offered care and affection, perhaps even love, though that wasn’t stated explicitly. Celeste craved all of that. They also offered dominance and control, discipline, too. Celeste needed someone she trusted to whom she could submit and relinquish control, someone who could take some of the burden of stress off her shoulders. She wanted—no, she needed someone who would hold her accountable. The interview went well for all three of them. Celeste’s nerves wore off early. There was something about Karen and Claire that soothed her; she felt attached to them almost from the very beginning. She didn’t really understand why, but there it was. And here she was: following Karen up the front pathway toward the house that she would soon call home. Claire was waiting for them inside.<br/><br/>The three of them had shared breakfast that morning, and then Karen along with Celeste went to the girl’s dorm room to gather all her belongings. Karen did most of the moving, since she was the bigger and stronger of the two (and not by a small margin). Celeste was mainly there to point out what was hers and what wasn’t, and to gather the small things she could carry easily. Claire came home early to prepare the house for their new arrival. Or so Celeste thought. Her mind was abuzz today, and she couldn’t be blamed for not remembering everything that everyone told her! One thing she remembered for sure was that today the three of them would be going over the house rules. They had discussed some earlier but nothing specific. Celeste knew that she was to call Karen ‘Daddy’ and Claire was ‘Mommy.’ The idea was strange to her, but not unwelcome. In fact, she quite liked it, even if it would take her some time to get used to using those titles. They’d also talked about some of the punishments Celeste would have to accept when she broke any rules. Spanking was chief among them. That both thrilled and terrified her, but in a good way. They had not discussed any specific rules or what did and did not constitute acceptable behaviour from their new live-in submissive. Celeste was looking forward to it. And she was terribly nervous about it.<br/><br/>“I like your house.” She said as the two of them approached the front door, Karen a step ahead of Celeste.<em>My home</em>, the girl thought, but wouldn’t dare say it allowed, not until Karen and Claire said so first. Truly, it was a beautiful home. They were on the front steps now. They would enter soon. And Celeste’s new life would begin.<br/>