Picnic

Part 3

The drive home was mostly uneventful. Mistress slid her hand along the length of
my thigh a few times, but didn't play with me near so much as she had during the
drive to the park. And though my eyes and hands carefully navigated the streets,
my mind was focused on her.

Was she purposefully neglecting me? Did she want to work my passions up while
waiting to arrive home? That seemed like something she would do.

Was she punishing me for falling asleep during the picnic and not seeing to her
each and every need? That, however, didn't sound like Mistress at all. She was a
very strong willed and independent woman. Yes, she liked to be pampered, but she
could easily do for herself as well.

Perhaps she was holding back for her own sake. I knew I was to be punished when
we arrived home. Perhaps she needed to make sure she didn't see me in a light
that made that punishment difficult. Perhaps she didn't want to have to stuff
her own desires away, deep inside her to punish me, then bring those desires
back out when we were finished.

I eventually settled on the assumption that restricting her touch was part of
the punishment. That made perfect sense. She often allowed my hands to roam just
a bit when dressing her. The only time that was forbidden was when I was in
trouble. Perhaps the drive with only her fingertips upon me a few times was
another version.

Of course, I had to wait until we arrived home to find out. It seemed like
Mistress had me stop at every other gas station for some reason or another. I
heard, "The temperature gage seems a bit high pet. Pull over and be sure the car
has enough oil." and "Do we have matches to light candles? We should stop to get
some." and "Chiot's panting in the back seat. I'd like you to offer him a bit of
water. Pull over here and get his dish from the trunk." and several others. I
was sure she was up to something.

Mistress took Chiot by his leash. He bounded from the back seat of the car
quickly enough. I think he was eager to get into the back yard. I imagine he had
to use the bathroom rather badly after several stops during the ride home to
drink water.

"Clean things up here," Mistress ordered in a soft voice. Most of her attention
was focused on Chiot and keeping him from leaping up and placing his paws all
over her clothes. "I'll see that our puppy is let into the back yard."

I voiced compliance. Then I emptied the trunk of the picnic items. The basket
was mostly empty. All that remained were a few dishes. They were set into the
dish washing machine. I used a towel to wipe out the basket itself. I returned
the newspaper and Mistress' book to her study. Then I returned to the garage.

I was vacuuming the back seat of Mistress' car when Mistress returned. I didn't
hear her approach. Her touch startled me and I think my yelp startled her in
turn. She seemed pleased though. At least her smile was quite bright.

"Why do you make it so difficult to punish you, pet?" She asked, "I'll admit
that I'm a bit quick to anger, but rightly so when my submissive disregards my
preferences or is as forgetful as you can be at times."

I swallowed and stared at the concrete floor. The summer heat created stifling
air and even my slight exertions vacuuming had brought me to a bit of a sweat.
No matter, I was asked a question. And so I answered.

"Please forgive me." I responded, "I don't have an answer Mistress. But may I
please speak otherwise?"

Mistress shot me a knowing glance. "No." She said flatly, "I've a good idea what
you'd say. You'd tell me that you don't intentionally make it difficult for me
to punish you. Isn't that right pet?" I nodded keeping my gaze on the concrete
floor. "Except for certain times."

I looked up at that. "What..." I began, then thought better of it. "May I please
know of what you meant by that last bit Mistress?"

Ms L smirked. "I think that YOU need to tell ME what I meant by that last
remark."

I blinked. I opened my mouth to reply. Then I quickly shut it. I knew that I'd
best think before I replied to something like that.

Except for certain times? What did she mean, that I somehow purposefully made
punishing me unpleasant? How on Earth would I do that even if I wished it?

I couldn't think of a single instance when that was the case. On the contrary, I
did my best to make it interesting for Mistress... not that I had to try hard. I
tried to present a nice target when I was spanked. I arched my back and thrust
my bum in the air. I even tried to keep myself from wailing or crying, though my
control over those things rarely lasted long.

I looked up at Mistress' collar bones questioningly. I saw her bat her eyelashes
and then I understood. I blushed... hot and scarlet. "Yes Mistress," I said, "I
often try to look as cute as I may or play to your sense of humor."

She nodded and took a few steps out of the garage. "Have you finished in here
yet?"

"No Mistress," I replied, "I've not yet finished." She nodded, then left the
garage. I breathed a deep sigh.

Tidying the rest of the car and garage wasn't difficult. A quick oil check, a
little protective spray on the dash, wiping off the floor mats, and securing the
convertible top in its place over the car in the event it rained in the near
future didn't take much time at all. I was back in the house with Chiot waiting
at his food dish in what seemed like only ten minutes.

I checked the clock. My tasks had actually taken twelve minutes. I shrugged. It
was almost time to feed Chiot, but not quite. I walked off through the house, my
heels clicking on the hardwood floor as I went.

I found Mistress in her study once more. Her pencil was flying furiously with a
look of concentration upon her face. I knelt just inside the door and waited to
be recognized. Chiot followed me in and tried to lick my face. I shuddered and
must have said something along the line of, "Eeeewww!" because Mistress glanced
up quickly. Her face was a scowl.

"Aren't you in enough trouble?" She asked, then waved off my attempt to answer.
"What is it pet, and be quick about it?"

"Yes Mistress." I answered. I petted the panting dog and tried to reassure him
that it wasn't anything personal... I'm not fond of dog slobber... at all. "May
I please feed Chiot a little early tonight and then begin dinner for the two of
us?"

Mistress cocked her head to one side for a moment. She looked at Chiot and then
at me. "No," She answered, "I'm not hungry at the moment. You packed a large
lunch pet. And I'd rather Chiot kept to his schedule." Mistress smirked. "You
spoil him enough already."

I nodded and petted Chiot once more. "Yes Mistress." I replied. Then I turned
and left the study. Chiot followed at my heels.

"Pet?" Mistress called after me.

I poked my head back into the room. She beckoned me with one finger. So I
pranced into the center of the room and stood with my feet together and my hands
behind my back, with my wrists crossed right over left.

"Yes Mistress?" Her pencil was poised again but it seemed she was reading
something. She replied without looking up from the text.

"I'm in the middle of something pet." Mistress instructed, "I don't want to be
bothered with trivial matters. Make decisions as best you can. Do you
understand?"

"Yes Mistress, quite well."

"Good. Now, I must finish what I'm doing. I'm sure you've chores to do. Not to
mention that I imagine Chiot has to use the bathroom again. Let him out into the
back yard if you think he wants to go out."

I curtsied to excuse myself. Mistress nodded and shifted in her chair. She
smiled a bit at me.

The attention worried me. I was in trouble. I knew that much. Yet Mistress was
smiling at me. It seemed disturbing. I could only imagine that she was thinking
of ways to make me pay for my earlier mistakes.

I felt Mistress' eyes bore into my back as I scampered away. I wondered what she
was planning as I walked to the back door.

Chiot followed and began wagging his tail frantically when I put my hand on the
sliding glass door's handle. I took that to mean that he was anxious to be let
back outside. The high fence around the yard assured that he didn't run off into
traffic. It also served to keep curious eyes from viewing what went on in
Mistress' yard.

I shivered as I remembered the last time she punished me outside. The stakes I'd
been lashed to were still in the ground. I was spread with my arms and legs in
an "X" pattern, gagged, and secured. I was nude. The sun was brutal that day.
Mistress' attentions with a flogger later that night hurt twenty times worse.

When I unlocked the sliding glass door and opened it, Chiot bounded out to his
favorite tree. I wasn't surprised that he had to relieve himself after the many
times Mistress had me stop the car on the way home to give him a bowl of water.
I was still unsure why she did that.

I shut the door and locked it. My rear was probably already going to be quite
sore by the end of the day. There was no sense in angering Mistress by wasting
the air conditioning with an door wide open.

I turned to the picnic basket that I unloaded from the car and began putting
things away. I washed the few dirty dishes by hand. The rest was aluminum foil
or plastic wrap. The aluminum foil disappeared into the recycle bin and the
plastic was thrown away. I then wiped the basket itself out and placed it in the
cupboard above the refrigerator.

I went about various other chores as well. All the while I wondered about what
to make for dinner. I thought to try and soften Mistress' mood with food that
she would particularly enjoy.

One of my friends had a black bean burrito recipe that was to die for. I also
had several cookbooks filled with good ideas. Mistress' palate was fairly
particular though.

I still didn't know all of what she liked or didn't. She wouldn't tell me.

Instead, she had me prepare dishes and would either pick them apart, pulling out
the olives or asparagus or she would eat them and comment afterward that it
wasn't to her liking. The latter usually made me rather sad, knowing that I fed
her something she didn't enjoy and that she ate it anyway.

When a few chores were finished, I had made up my mind. I decided I would make
black bean burritos. But first, I knew I had to feed Chiot.

I took off my high-heels and stepped outside. The grass was cool as my feet
swish, swish swished over it on the way to the small tool shed. Chiot perked up
and watched as I crossed the yard, then he bounded after me once I was within a
meter or three of the shed. He knew very well that's where his food was kept. I
had a difficult time keeping him from jumping up on me, but managed with much
maneuvering, a scolding word or six, and finally closing the shed's door behind
me.

I was all but pounced when I exited the shed. I narrowly avoided being knocked
to the ground by leading Chiot away with his full food dish extended as far as
my arms would allow. I thought he would dive into the dish once I was able to
set it on the ground.

His water dish was still in the house. I sat it beside the car while cleaning
up. So I decided to go back, get it, fill it, and leave it next to Chiot's soon
to be emptied food dish. I considered petting Chiot, who usually growls when
Mistress pets him while he eats, but decided against it.

Instead, I turned around to face the house. Chiot's water dish wasn't getting
any closer to him. The sooner I brought it out, the sooner I could prepare
dinner for Mistress. And the sooner Mistress ate, the sooner she would get my
punishment over with... I hoped.

Mistress was standing at the sliding glass door when I looked up. She nodded and
then turned and vanished. It set me aback. What was that about? Was she curious
as to why I'd left the house?

I left the heat of the summer evening behind and reentered the house, I looked
down the hall. The light in Mistress' study was still on. No other lights were.
Had she gone back to her work? I did not dare check. I remembered her
instructions and knew I was not to disturb her.

So I grabbed Chiot's water dish from the garage. I filled it outside by the
water hose and set it next to an empty food dish and a full, and very sleepy
puppy. I was sure he would need the water before long. It seemed rather hot
outside. I made a note to check on him before I went to bed if Mistress allowed
it. I thought that perhaps I could bring him a treat as well.

Going back toward the house, I stopped after a few paces. A flash of inspiration
hit. I guessed that Mistress would want dinner in her study and decided that I
would have to do something to make her meal a little more enjoyable than usual.
After all, it was the weekend.

Mistress' pruning shears were in the tool shed, right where she usually left
them. A quick trip to the flower garden revealed a several roses in full bloom.
Two were to a point that the blossoms would soon fall apart. I knew from a
previous punishment that I was only to pick flowers that were near
disintegration, so the one falling apart that was nearest me became my target. A
quick snip and another trip to the tool shed, and I was on my way back into the
house.

I pulled my friend's recipe for black bean burritos from a box. Mistress liked
me to keep my recipes that weren't bundled within books on note cards and filed
in alphabetical order. She like to leaf through them occasionally, pull one out,
and say, "Here pet. I think I'd like this tonight."

It wasn't a difficult dish. Even the creamed corn on the side and churros for
dessert were relatively easy. But it was a tasty recipe. And Mistress loved it.
That was the important part.

When the last was done, I arranged everything on the large silver tray from
which Mistress liked to eat if she took dinner in her study. I was sure to
include two different beverages. She liked lemonade and ginger ale with the
burritos... and I was rarely sure which she liked more. The rose was laid
alongside the silverware. I pulled off one rose petal and placed it in the
waistband of my panties, hoping it would provide a pleasant surprise later.

I knelt inside the doorway with the tray between both hands and my arms
outstretched. It was difficult to do without making much noise. Mistress hated
noise in her study. Once settled, I glued my gaze to the floor in front of
Mistress' desk and waited.

And waited...

And waited...

Had she seen me? Did she know I was waiting for her? Did she realize that her
food was getting cold? Worse yet, would she punish me because her food was cold?

Should I risk making a small sound? I knew that I could have slid a piece of
silverware upon the tray, cleared my throat, sniffed, or the like. But Mistress
might be angry with me. She already seemed furious.

She had good cause. I had forgotten that my collar was on and nearly left the
house with it around my neck. Most who knew us realized that a power dynamic
existed. But they had no idea that it was far more than who wore the strap-on.
At least I did not think that anyone realized it. I wondered just how many
guessed.

My arms began to droop. I was not strong enough to hold the tray for much
longer. I decided to risk upsetting Mistress, thinking that she would be more
upset by a large stain on her floor than by an interruption. "Mistress?" I all
but whispered.

"Yes pet." She stated. It was not a question. She had only acknowledged me. No
instructions followed. And the tray felt as though it grew heavier by the
second.

Once acknowledged, I felt as though I could speak without drawing much of her
anger. "Mistress, with respect," I asked sheepishly, "May I please serve your
dinner before the food grows cold?"

She gave no answer. Surely dinner was not a trivial matter. She had punished me
several times in the past for dinner related offenses. A few times I had even
become so involved with chores or other things that dinner was late.

Mistress did not like dinner being late. She scolded me rather well each time
that happened. But worse, she refused to eat a late meal. She went hungry that
night and sometimes all of the next day as well to teach me a lesson.

It worked. I was very careful to have dinners prepared in what she considered a
timely fashion. Which is why I was so shocked that she just had me kneel in the
study with her food. Was she only trying to make me nervous or was she really so
engrossed in what she was doing? I guessed that it was a little of both.

The tray continued to seem heavier and heavier. Mistress insisted that I hold
things for her in a specific manner... with my arms outstretched. Perhaps it was
so that at moments such as that one she could have me hold still and worry about
spilling food everywhere.

She sighed and simply I could not resist. I looked up for a moment. to find that
she removed her slim framed eyeglasses, and was massaging the bridge of her
nose. The bright red of her fingernails was a striking contrast to her tanned
skin and blond hair. I forced myself to look away and put my gaze upon the floor
again.

Did she have a headache? "Would you like..." I whispered, intend on offering a
neck massage. But she cut me off.

"Be. Quiet." Her words cut the air with an edge that frightened me.

What had happened? Yes, I was a bad girl earlier in the day. I nearly made a
rather grave mistake. But I'd been good since. Had I not?

I swallowed and held as still as possible. My arms could well fall off before I
dropped the tray... which, it seemed, just might have been Mistress' plan.

Though I had a general sense of things by way of peripheral vision, I did not
dare look up at Mistress again. I only knew that she did not move from the desk.
I think she sat still for a while. I do not know for how long, but it seemed
several minutes.

Finally, when my arms began to fail and I feared that dinner would surely spill
onto the floor, Mistress got up. She took the tray without a word and
disappeared out the door. I heard her heels clicking down the hallway.

That registered in my mind with a searing thought. She had not taken off her
boots. She wore her boots inside usually only when she had a scene planned. I
knew I was to be punished, but... if her boots were still on then it would an
intricate thing. Was that what she was working on while I did chores and cooked?

I also panicked quietly. Mistress had taken the tray upon which I had arranged
her dinner. I expected her to take it in the study, as she usually did during
the week when she had paperwork to finish. But she had taken it. Should I stay
where I was? I was not ordered to move. Or should I follow her to set the table.

Or was she going to the dining room at all? Perhaps she was angry with what I
had prepared. Maybe she sensed that I was trying to soften her a bit with
Mexican cuisine and was upset by the idea. She could have been in the kitchen at
that very moment discarding dinner to then have me start over.

Or she could be waiting with the tray in her hands, expecting me to lay out
table settings. We usually ate together during the weekends. Friday nights were
a given. We always planned to eat together then. The rest of the weekend had
sort of fallen into place behind Friday.

Was Mistress upset that I had brought dinner to her on a tray to be eaten in her
study? Was she so upset to have snapped at me so bitterly? What was I to do?

I had all but decided to follow her when I heard my name called. More grateful
than I had been almost all day to hear her speak, I rose from the floor. My
knees hurt from kneeling so long. It was difficult to walk, but I managed. I
hoped Mistress would excuse my gracelessness until my legs decided to regain
proper function.

I paused at the study's doorway. "Mistress?" I called out. I hoped her voice
would come from the left. The dining room was to the left. That would most
likely mean that she wanted dinner in the dining room.

The kitchen was down the hall to the right. If she spoke to me from the kitchen
then I was likely in BIG trouble. She'd probably been upset by the fact that I
tried to soften her mood with a meal that I knew she would enjoy. If that were
the case, then I'd be lucky if she let me make another meal for her. Most likely
she wouldn't eat at all and I'd have to know that she went hungry for the entire
night. And I hated that.

A few seconds passed and I didn't hear her voice. I hadn't imagined that she
called my name, had I? Then I heard noises from the dining room. Chiot wasn't in
the house so that meant it was probably Mistress, and it sounded as though she
were moving something.

"Mistress?" I called out as I turned left and nearly stumbled down the hall. My
knees still ached. It would be a few more minutes before I could walk normally
again.

"In here pet." Mistress said, just as I entered the dining room. She was moving
chairs away from the table, which puzzled me. "Ah, there you are. I want you to
take off all your clothes while I finish."

I said that I would, and began disrobing immediately. Piece by piece my cleaning
uniform was neatly stacked on one of the chairs that now lined the walls of the
dining room. I was careful to catch the rose petal and fold it away inside my
panties. Perhaps I could still surprise Mistress with it. I watched Mistress
clear the table of the table cloth and candle holders as I did.

Mistress disappeared down the hallway toward the study just as I was slipping
out of my thigh-high stockings. I was fully nude a moment later. When I heard no
sound to indicate that she was rapidly returning, I stood on my tip-toes with my
hands behind my back. My wrists were crossed over each other... right over left.
My gaze was glued to the floor.

I didn't have long to wait. I soon heard a jingling sound drawing near and saw
Mistress enter the room in my peripheral vision. She carried a small box. It was
left on the table.

I whimpered when Mistress stepped in front of me. She her lips held a smirk. Her
hands held her favorite ball gag.

"Hold still." She ordered. I did while she expertly wrapped the strap of leather
holding the rubber ball around my head. The strap was threaded under my hair and
I shivered when I felt my hair fall back onto my shoulders after being released
from her hands. It felt electrically charged somehow.

The rubber ball filled the front of my mouth. It pried my jaws wide and left no
room for me even to breathe. Mistress cinched the strap down behind my neck.
Then I heard a click. She even locked it! I whimpered involuntarily.

"On the table." Mistress then ordered. I nodded to state my compliance, then
turned my back to the sturdy, wooden piece of furniture. My hands each found the
edge of the table beside me. I half hopped, half pulled myself up onto the flat
surface and sat my rear end on the edge.

Mistress pointed to the center of the table. Again I nodded. If she wanted me in
the middle of the table, she would have me in the middle of the table.

The dining room tabletop was cool to the touch. I began to shiver just a bit as
I rolled and crawled to the center of it. I remembered wishing to ask Mistress
if I could turn the air conditioning off or down a little. Now I didn't have a
chance. The gag was strapped around my head too tightly.

When I reached the center of the table I stopped. "On your back." Mistress
directed. I whimpered but complied.

The table seemed even colder once so much of my bare skin touched it. My teeth
would have chattered if they weren't separated by a fist-sized, purple rubber
ball on a leather strap. I rubbed my arms in an attempt to warm them a bit.

"Are you shivering from cold or nervousness?" Mistress asked. I blinked and
briefly wished she had asked a yes or no question. Why did she love to torment
me like that when I was gagged? After a moment of thought, I held up two
fingers.

Mistress smiled. She understood immediately that my answer was that I shivered
from a little fear and due to the fact that I was cold. She quickly stifled the
smile though. Then she nodded. She disappeared for a moment. I hoped that she
would turn the thermostat up and that I wouldn't be further punished because I'd
made her smile... making it "hard to punish me" as she'd said earlier that day.

I heard the slight whoosh of the air conditioning vents cease just before
Mistress returned. She carried a blanket. "I don't want you shivering." She
stated. Then she looked directly into my eyes. "Yet."

Mistress draped the blanket over me. I closed my eyes and bowed my head as best
I could in thanks. If she noticed, she didn't let on. She seemed too busy moving
across the room.

She came back with several lengths of rope. Without a word she took my right
hand and coiled soft nylon around my wrist. Then she positioned my hand so it
was at one corner of the table. Twenty minutes, and several knots later, I was
bound spread eagle on Mistress' dining room table.

Mistress stood over me, looking down and smiled for a brief moment. "I'm going
to enjoy this pet." She stated. Then my world went black. She tied a soft
blindfold into place. Though the gag obscured my mouth, I managed a smile... or
at least something that resembled a smile. The blindfold was the same one we'd
picked up at the corner drugstore a few weeks prior.

And then... nothing. I couldn't hear a thing. I didn't even hear Mistress move
or breathe. It was as though she'd stepped into a mirror, disappeared, and left
me alone.

I waited. What else could I do, bound to a table... gagged and blindfolded
besides? I waited and my anticipation grew.

What would she do to me? I was in a very vulnerable position. Would she hurt me?
Would she tease me relentlessly until my sex not just ached but hurt? Would she
torture my poor little nipples as usual?

A sweet scent filled my nostrils. A desire to struggle against the soft ropes
that held me to her bed grew within me. My eyes blinked involuntarily beneath
the blindfold. They watered despite the darkness. What emitted such a perfume?

I suspected Mistress held the rose blossom I had brought in front of my face.
What else could it be? I knew her perfume. Sweet Mother Earth, if I knew
anything at all it was the smell of her clothes... her skin... her hair... her
sex. The scent was more floral than anything I knew her to wear. Surely it was
the thorned rose. Yet, it was so very overpowering. I could not be certain.

I wanted to know what that scent was, but I quelled the desire to test my bonds.
I knew she would rather I was pliant. I also was well aware that struggling
against her expert knots would be unwise. More than once she fashioned bonds
that tightened when I pushed or pulled. I could quickly find myself without
circulation to my hands or thighs if I wasn't careful. Of course Mistress would
be there to loosen the bonds, especially if I used a safeword, but there would
be a price to pay for struggling and I was in enough trouble.

"I imagine you've guessed what this is pet." Mistress said softly. Her lips
seemed only a few centimeters from my ear. I couldn't feel her breath when she
spoke though. Then I felt something chilly and soft gently touch my left nipple.
I drew in a long breath.

Ice was one of Mistress' favorite torture devices. She knew I worshiped the
season of winter as my chosen goddess but that I also feared the cold. My frame
was small. I weighed very little. I knew that subzero temperatures could kill me
ever so easily. It was oddly comforting and seemed appropriate of a deified time
frame with a set pattern of wondrous weather manifestations.

But what traced one of my breasts and then the other wasn't wet. At least it
didn't leave a trail of cold when she traced first the aureole, then in circles
until the curve of my breast met ribs and sternum. Such a trail of cold would
indicate melting water. Perhaps it was the rose after all.

Or perhaps she only wished me to think it was the rose. Mistress may well have
held the rose to my face then decided to guide a strong blade over my skin. I
shivered at the thought and bit into the ball gag to stifle fear and more than
just a little excitement. It was meant as punishment, after all.