The airport parking garage was crowded. Finding a place to park Mistress' red
convertible proved a difficult venture. I began to wish I'd left earlier. Her
plane was due to arrive in five minutes. If the flight came in early then I
could be in a good deal of trouble.
I finally found a spot on the far end. I didn't like the idea of making Mistress
walk so much, but would have to do. Too many circles around the parking garage
in search of a prime parking spot had nearly made me late.
The ticket counters in the airport were full of people. Every single one seemed
annoyed. It wasn't a very nice place to be. I hated airports!
I knew that I couldn't meet her at the gate unless I bought a ticket for myself.
It was one of the things occupying my mind while I drove to the airport.
Mistress would have been quite surprised. I guessed that I could have merely
returned the ticket for a refund on our way back to the car from the arrival
gate.
Then I imagined that a lot of people had the same idea. Most of the airlines
probably stopped refunding tickets that were bought and returned within the span
of one hour because of it. So I abandoned that plan.
Instead, I went from the car to baggage claim. The huge turnstiles whirred as I
descended the escalator. I looked around quickly but didn't see Mistress. My
fingers were crossed in hopes that her flight hadn't arrived early.
After descending the escalators to the baggage claim portion of the airport I
noticed a large bank of television screens held to the wall. Her flight was due
five minutes ago but a blinking bit of red text alongside the flight's arrival
time announced that it wasn't on time. The flight was reported to be delayed by
half an hour.
I breathed a slight sigh of relief. Mistress wouldn't be in a good mood when she
showed up, but at least I wasn't late. I had a little time.
I looked around for a bathroom. There were two signs for restrooms, one at
either end of the baggage claim area. I walked to the nearest. The heels of my
shoes clicked on the tile floor.
I relieved myself quickly and stood in front of the mirror. Mistress wrote to me
earlier in the week with instructions as to what I was to wear when I picked her
up. She wanted me in something revealing but that wouldn't get me in too much
trouble... no sheer clothes. That meant that my cleaning uniform was out of the
question.
She also wanted me to wear practical shoes. Practical shoes to my Mistress meant
that my pumps had four inch broad heels instead of five inch spiked heels. It
wasn't much of a difference but it was enough to give me steadier footing for
carrying bags and what not. I was grateful.
I'd put on a long, tight, gray skirt that had a high slit up the back. Plenty of
my legs were shown when I walked. I hoped that it would be revealing enough for
her. I know that I certainly felt sexy in it.
The top I wore was red. It had been another of Mistress' instructions. I didn't
own a red top other than a t-shirt. Red wasn't really my color. I had to go out
and buy a red blouse at a department store. I almost never wore red but I had a
suspicion that she wanted to be able to pick me out of the crowd. So I wore a
tight, fitted, red blouse with two buttons unfastened at the top. A bit of my
cleavage was visible, but only a bit.
I hadn't been instructed to wear any other specific items of clothing but I did
my best to look pleasing for Mistress. My shoes were black leather pumps with
four inch wide heels. I wore sheer black stockings with cute lace garters. A
matching garter belt kept the stockings up. And that was the extent of my
undergarments. I didn't bother with a bra or panties. I hoped that Mistress
would be pleased.
The seats outside the bathrooms in the baggage claim waiting area were hard,
blue plastic. Uncomfortable was an understatement. I briefly thought of scanning
them for a company logo so I could send prank faxes or make obscene phone calls
but something else grabbed my attention.
The luggage conveyor belt directly in front of me began to move. I blinked and
looked up. The sign above it displayed the number of Mistress' return flight. I
knew that her luggage would begin rotating around shortly. I also hoped that she
would be there soon as well. Or perhaps she was already there.
I stood up and grew frustrated. There were too many people milling about and
even in four inch heels I was too short to see much of the crowd. The
uncomfortable seats might be of use after all. I held my skirt up and stepped
onto one of them.
A familiar voice scolded me. "Get down from there right now." I instinctively
flinched. Mistress was walking briskly toward me.
She looked tired. I didn't want to think about how bad a mood she might be in. I
definitely didn't want to consider the punishments that might result from my
disobeying her at that point. I quickly descended to the floor.
"Hello Loren. I hope that your flight..." I began. She cut me off.
"I specifically told you to wear safe footwear for a reason." She said sternly,
"That reason was NOT so that you could climb all over rickety airport
furniture."
I lowered my gaze to the floor. "...was pleasant." I continued in a defeated
voice. I retrieved a plastic bottle of fruit juice and a bag of chips from my
purse and held them out to her. The juice was orange-mango. The chips were sour
cream and onion. They were her favorites.
During the drive to the airport I had cursed the summer's heat. On the drive
back I was glad of it. Mistress put the convertible's top down and decided that
she wished to drive herself... as usual. I had guessed that she would be tired
and want me to drive but I was happy that she took the keys when we were in the
parking garage. It meant I could hold back Mistress' hair.
I kept two hair ties in my purse at all times. It paid to be prepared,
especially since I had the exquisite responsibility of brushing Mistress' hair
out at the end of the day. If there were tangles it was difficult. Each time her
head was jerked back I received a swat from a terribly painful rubber strap.
But when Mistress drove with the top down she preferred a different hair tie. I
was allowed to put my hair up as I wished but I was to hold Mistress's hair in a
ponytail with my own hands. It earned odd stares on occasion but it was
something that I loved to do. It seemed wonderfully intimate.
When we pulled into the driveway of Mistress' home she said that she was ready
to flop down on the couch. She was clearly exhausted. But as I retrieved the
luggage from the car's trunk I secretly hoped that her plans would change once
she walked through the door.
Mistress often complained about the lack of places in her home where she could
tie me up so that I was stretched out. She loved the idea of a Saint Andrews'
Cross, but didn't want anything so incriminating just lying around. Lashing my
wrists to the headboard of the bed and my ankles to the bottom end of the bed
was effective, but only to a point. What if Mistress wanted to walk around me?
Mistress had looked into buying a vertical rack, but they weren't any easier to
hide or explain away than a large X-shaped cross. She told me once over
breakfast that, if she had a basement, she'd sink a hook into the ceiling and
use rope or chain to keep my hands above my head. She often enjoyed suspending
me vertically in such a fashion while at play parties where such hooks in
ceiling beams were available.
But Mistress didn't have a basement. And she didn't want to explain to her
vanilla friends and family why there were hooks on the ceiling of her bedroom.
So the idea had been shelved.
We walked into Mistress house. She went first and graciously held the door while
I struggled with the luggage. Then she flopped down on the couch. As soon as I
put her bags in the bedroom I fetched a cold glass of iced tea and sliced a
lime. Mistress took it with a nod, then sighed with contentment and exhaustion
as she took several sips.
"Would you like dinner now?" I asked, "Would you prefer to eat after a massage
and nap Mistress?"
She purred. "A massage sounds wonderful pet."
I nodded, pranced to a hallway closet, and retrieved what I would need. With my
hands full I started to arrange the couch so I could offer a massage to her. But
Mistress got up.
"No pet," She said sleepily, "I think I'd like it in the bedroom for a change."
I froze. I'd taken the liberty of calling in a contractor I'd seen at play
parties while Mistress was away. Three hooks had been installed in the ceiling a
foot away from the sliding glass door in Mistress' bedroom. I'd hung flower pots
from them as decoration. The hanging plants looked only slightly out of place,
swinging a little farther back from the sliding glass door than was usual, but I
was reasonably sure they wouldn't arouse anyone's suspicions.
Most importantly, the hooks weren't flimsy things. They could each support up to
two hundred pounds. I weighed just more than half of that amount. Yet the hooks
looked small and ornamental. They matched the rest of the bedroom perfectly.
They didn't look out of place at all.
I didn't want Mistress to see the hooks yet. I had a special dinner waiting on
plates in the refrigerator. I cooked it before I left to pick Mistress up from
the airport and stashed it under aluminum foil. I'd hoped that she would allow
me to massage her on the couch, feed her, and then I planned to excuse myself
while I tied myself up on one of the hooks for dessert. I even had a bit of
whipped cream and a halved strawberry ready for each of my breasts. If she saw
the plants hanging then it could spoil my planned surprise.
I tried to think quickly. "Um..." I said, unsure of myself, "Please allow me to
get a beach towel from your bedroom Mistress. It will protect the couch. In the
meantime, perhaps you'd like to use the bathroom before I begin?"
She took the bait, nodding. "Yes," She said, "That's probably a good idea. I
think I'd like the massage to last for a while and would hate to interrupt it."
She kissed my forehead as she headed toward the bathroom. "Good thinking pet."
I smiled. "Thank you Mistress." But my smile vanished when the bathroom door
closed. I slipped off my high-heels and quickly padded to the freezer. The cool
whip was on the second shelf. I grabbed it and knew that I wouldn't have time
for the strawberries. Then I headed for the bedroom.
My clothes came off as quickly as I could manage. I folded them on the bed and
reached into a shoe-box of implements I'd set aside earlier in the week. Two
pieces of rope came out of the shoe-box first. Then I sat a birthday card on the
bed. A blindfold and gag were all that was left in the shoe-box.
I didn't have time to blindfold myself or use a gag. That much was clear when I
heard the toilet flush. I cursed under my breath. Why couldn't she have wanted a
massage on the couch as usual?
I tied the two short pieces of rope into figure eight loops with slipknots on
the bottom half. They easily hung from the hooks in the ceiling and I quickly
reached up to try and measure by sight weather my wrists would fit in the rope
without too much slack. They seemed to be the right length.
The bathroom door opened. I heard Mistress' voice from the hallway. "Pet?" She
had already finished in the bathroom. I knew was running out of time.
The ball gag and blindfold would definitely have to wait. I hoped that Mistress
would enjoy strapping them into place. I grinned at that thought as I sat it on
the bed. She probably would enjoy that a good deal.
"Sara?" Her voice was a bit more urgent this time but sounded farther away.
Perhaps she was searching the kitchen.
I knew that I had to use the cream and strawberries and do so quickly. They were
on the top of my breasts in a flash. It wasn't as pretty as I'd hoped, but it
would work. The frozen cool-whip chilled me quite a bit but it stayed in place.
It also kept the half strawberry perched atop each of my breast nicely.
My hands slipped into the rope just in time. I was standing on my tiptoes to
reach the loops when Mistress walked in. I let myself fall to my heels and the
slipknot did it's work. The rope tightened securely around my wrists. Very
securely. In my haste to be sure there wasn't too much slack I hadn't left
enough slack. I was suspended with my heels just off the bedroom carpet.
Mistress grinned like a shark who had just eaten the Cheshire Cat. She laughed
and her gaze became more and more intense as she crossed the floor. Her head
tilted back to look up at the hooks in the ceiling. "Are they secure?" She
asked.
"The hooks are sunk deep into a beam in the ceiling," I replied, "They only
allow for half an inch's clearance between the lip of their jaw and the ceiling
so accidental release is doubtful. If I'm suspended as I am now, then there's
likely no way that I can reach up and dislodge the ropes without considerable
effort and luck. I'd have to jostle them out the lip of the hooks Mistress. And
there's no way that I can reach the hooks themselves without a chair." I nodded
to the chair I'd been standing on to arrange the ropes.
She nodded. Then she ran one fingertip through the cool-ship on my left breast.
It was starting to melt. She licked the cool-whip off her finger. Then plucked
both the strawberries. She ate one and fed the other to me. I purred.
"Did you put them in?" She asked.
"No Mistress." I shook my head. "I had Sam, Ms Steel's butch pet, do it."
Mistress grinned again. She remembered the bolts in the ceiling in Ms Steel's
basement. I knew that she would. She'd admired and asked about them two or three
times, enough that Ms Steel had put on a demonstration just for us. It had been
a night to remember.
Mistress looked down at the floor. "The plants are a nice touch. Do you think
they will get enough sunlight hanging back here?"
A drop of melted cool-whip was sliding down my right breast. "I'm not sure
Mistress, but Sam asked the same question. She suggested using either ferns or
fake plants as camouflage when you have visitors. Ferns would likely not need as
much light and... well.. fake plants wouldn't need any."
Mistress nodded again. She stepped closer and lapped at the running drop of
cool-whip while I shivered. Her tongue felt warm, especially after the cold of
the frozen cool whip. The sight of her smile made my sex ache. It was a wicked
smile. It was a longing smile. I knew what she wanted when I saw that smile...
anytime I saw that smile.
I knew that Mistress had fun on her trip but I also knew that she missed me. She
called earlier in the week to tell me several things that warmed my heart, as
well as a few other bits of my anatomy. She missed me. She missed my cooking.
She missed holding me when I'd been a good girl and earned the right to sleep
next to her for a night.
She said that she had enjoyed cleaning up after herself. That made sense,
considering I did most of the household chores in her home and she rarely had
the chance. I also imagine that it felt like the right thing for her to do while
in her family's home for a vacation. So she didn't say that she missed my
cleaning.
She did, however, say that she missed watching me clean. Mistress seemed to love
seeing me prance around in my cleaning uniform... a short black skirt, a sheer
white top, black heels and hosiery. During the weekends when we were both at her
home I often felt her eyes on me as I washed the dishes, dusted, or ran the
vacuum while she read or caught up on paperwork from her office.
And she said that she missed my tongue. She missed sex with me. She missed lying
on her back, binding my wrists to her thighs, and having my mouth at her sex
until she screamed. She missed tying me to her bed and lowering herself on me.
She missed tasting me after she teased me relentlessly for an hour or three. So
I wasn't surprised to look down, watch Mistress' tongue dance over my breasts to
catch the slowly melting coo whip, and see that her eyes were hungry.
"Happy birthday Mistress." I breathed softly. I was glad that I hadn't had time
to strap the gag into my mouth. Yes, I left a birthday card on the bed, but it
was nice to say it. It was nice to make it obvious.
Mistress smiled and moved her mouth from my breasts. She stood up. Her hand
pulled my chin up so that I looked into her beautiful honey-brown eyes.
Even with me stretched on my toes she was still just a little taller than I was.
I had to look up to meet her eyes and that excited me. It almost always excited
me. Having a lover who is taller than me isn't rare. I was only five feet two
inches tall. But to look up into a lover's eyes the moment before it all begins
is something that leaves me near breathless.
Then she kissed me. She leaned into me and I closed my eyes. I opened my mouth
slightly and invited her.
Mistress' lips brushed mine softly. Then again. And again. She pressed her lips
to mine and our mouths locked for many moments. Her hands found my hair. Her
fists balled in my tresses. She pulled just a little. It left me whimpering, all
but begging for her touch when she broke the kiss and stepped back.
Her eyes grew a little wider and she quickly darted forward to lick my breasts.
I can't say I was surprised that the cool whip had melted faster than either of
us had anticipated after such a kiss. It made me giggle.
I stopped giggling as I felt her tongue slide over my nipples. My giggles turned
into soft moans. My eyes closed to help me savor the sensation as the flesh of
her tongue across my sensitive nipples. She left me tingling. I felt
light-headed.
Something surged through me like electricity. My muscles tensed. My eyes flew
open. I cried out. I shuddered. It was almost as though wind were blowing
directly through me in that moment. It took me a minute to realize what
happened.
Mistress had placed a hand between my thighs. She cupped my sex, with one finger
sliding between the folds of my labia. That one finger stroked my inner labia,
my opening, and my clit. Each touch was like another electric shock, but more
gentle than the initial jolt. I heard my voice, breathy in my ears, as I spoke
again. "Happy birthday Mistress."
Her tongue continued until there was no more cool whip. Every trace of it
vanished from my breasts. Even the few rivulets that managed to make their way
to my belly were gone. Yet, I seemed to remember feeling a few drops fall. Had
she caught those too? I wondered briefly if I'd gotten some on Mistress' blue
jeans. I hoped not.
Then I didn't care. Mistress stood again and smiled. She looked into my eyes and
I felt warmth beneath my skin. I wasn't accustomed to looking Mistress in her
eyes. I blushed at the allowed privilege.
"Such a wonderful gift." She said and stepped closer. She pressed her body to
mine. She kissed me again and my head swam. I wasn't merely light-headed
anymore. I was dizzy outright.
Mistress knew it. She was familiar with me and how I occasionally became
disoriented when I was very, very excited. She knew what to look for. She knew
the signs. She also knew that she could take advantage of it.
"This is all a wonderful gift pet." She said. One hand stroked my hair. "But you
forgot something."
I blinked. "Yes Mistress?" I made it a question because I didn't know what else
to say. I tried to clear my head to think. What had I forgotten? A card was on
the bed. The three hooks were perfectly and expertly installed. We had a cover
plan if anyone suspected the hooks. There were potted plants to hang from them.
What else could I forget?
Her grin grew. She pointed down, toward my feet. "A towel."
I looked down at the floor and noticed damp spots where several drops of melted
cool whip had hit the carpet. I winced. They might well leave a stain.
I cursed myself in my head. How could I have been so careless? I could probably
clean it later, but I shouldn't have had to do so. I should have thought ahead
and set down a towel. I'd even used a towel as my covers story to enter the
bedroom in the first place. How could I not think of something that seemed
perfect common sense?
I must have shown signs of my inner conflict. Mistress nodded. "You'll clean it
up later." She said flatly as she turned away from me, "And you'd best hope that
it doesn't stain." I whimpered as she crossed the room. Restrained as I was,
across the room might as well have been across the world. I couldn't reach her.
But I wanted to reach her. I wanted to scramble after her begging for
forgiveness. I wanted her touch. I wanted to touch her. I'd missed her too.
She stopped at a chest at the foot of the bed. With the click of a combination
lock it was open. I closed my eyes. I didn't want to see what she selected. I
didn't want to know what she chose to punish me with. I just didn't want to
know.
I heard Mistress rummage about in the trunk. Something slid. A box lid? The
handle of a flogger across the bottom of the trunk? A few things jingled. Nipple
clamps? Handcuffs? Hemostats?
Something whistled through the air. I cringed. I begged in my mind that Mistress
wouldn't choose a cane to punish me for such a small infraction. It was only a
few drops of cool whip. I seriously doubted it would stain. Even if it did stain
the carpet, I could dye the carpet so no one would ever notice.
Something else whistled through the air. I thought I recognized it as Mistress'
favorite riding crop. I wasn't sure though. The first whistle could have been
the crop and the second could have been a cane. I whimpered again. Then I opened
my eyes.
Mistress was padding across the carpet. She held a wicked piece of equipment in
her hand. I recognized it immediately. Then I shut my eyes tight again.
It was a cross between a paddle and a strap. There was a handle made of a dark
wood, perhaps mahogany or cherry. A single piece of stiff rubber approximately
three inches across and a quarter inch wide sprang from that handle. The rubber
was the length of Mistress' arm. It split into two pointed portions halfway to
its end so that it had the appearance of a snake's tongue.
That's how Mistress named it. She called it her forked tongue little devil. And
it most assuredly was a devil.
Why did I have to look? Why did I have to know? It's always worse when I know.
Why did I open my eyes?
I heard a smack from Mistress' direction. My guess was that she struck the
tongue against her palm, her thigh, or perhaps against the bed. I jumped all the
same.
"Open your eyes." Mistress commanded in a soft voice that was full of malice. It
amazed me how she could switch back and forth between a countenance that sent
chills through me to a look of calm, grace, and comfort. She had control of
herself in ways I would likely never understand.
I opened my eyes. Mistress stood closer to me than I guessed. She was directly
in front of me, only a few paces away. I swallowed hard.
"Good." Mistress said. She walked around me slowly, padding across the carpet.
She stopped when she was behind me, between me and the sliding glass door. "I
don't have enough room to swing something from back here, pet. That makes things
inconvenient."
I stretched myself a bit. "Yes Mistress," I replied, "But Sam left a few
suggestions with me. If you'll please allow me to explain I think you'll see
that there is a rather simple solution."
"Go on."
"Thank you Mistress." I looked up at the hook and the rope holding me to it.
"The hooks are made so there is barely enough room to fit the rope through the
opening. Once in, it's unlikely that anyone suspended will get them out." I
paused.
"Yes, I noticed that. You also mentioned it earlier. Now get to the point pet."
Mistress' voice was icy.
I swallowed and continued. "Well... I can't remove myself from the hooks but if
you were to do it you could simply turn me around and then reattach the ropes.
That would let you stand on the bedroom side of me instead of the door side and
have plenty of room." I paused again.
She didn't say anything so I continued. "Or, of course, you could simply spin me
as you wish. The rope or chains might become twisted but that wouldn't be much
of a problem unless I was suspended on my toes as I am now."
There was a silence that seemed to last several minutes. I began to worry. Had I
been respectful enough in the words I chose?
Eventually Mistress said, "Indeed, pet. I think that will do. If you face the
door then I will have room to swing. I can still walk in front of you to get
your attention if I wish." Mistress came into my view. "That should do nicely."
I breathed a sigh of relief. Mistress smiled and sat the rubber tongue on the
bed. Then she noticed the gag and card. She read the card and turned back to me,
smiling, for a moment.
She dragged a chair next to me and stood on it. The ropes were released and I
was made to turn around and face the sliding glass door. The blinds were shut,
so I couldn't see a thing but white, vertical slats of plastic. When the chair
disappeared I knew that Mistress had finished.
I let myself sag a bit. The ropes tightened around my wrist almost painfully,
but it felt good to let my weight off my toes. The ropes and the hook held. They
were easily strong enough to keep me suspended. But then, I knew that was the
whole point. It was nice to know that I could and probably would sag enough to
be held upright. No doubt Mistress would find this arrangement quite handy.
Oh... what had I done?
I didn't have long to lament my choice of birthday gifts. Mistress' voice soon
rang through the bedroom. Her tone was of authority.
"You stood on a chair at the airport in four inch heels, pet." I felt her nails
gently trace shapes in the flesh of my lower back. The hairs on my forearms
raised. "That wasn't very safe, was it?"
"No Mistress." I answered, repressing a shudder.
"Mmm hmm, and what else did you do today or any day I was gone which was also
unsafe?"
I thought for a moment. "I fell off the stepladder while getting spices from the
cabinet above the refrigerator." I said it with a bit of a laugh. "It hurt
little more than my pride. I was climbing down from the third rung and my foot
merely missed. I landed square on my rear end Mistress."
She laughed a little. "You weren't hurt?"
"No Mistress."
"Were you wearing high heels at the time?"
I swallowed. Would she punish me for that? "Yes Mistress." I answered honestly,
"I was wearing my cleaning uniform."
Mistress' nails stopped tracing my skin. A loud slap flashed through the room
and I felt a sting on my right thigh. I stiffened. It didn't hurt badly but it
stung. I guessed that she used her hand instead of the rubber tongue.
"I realize that I have given you instructions to wear heels with your cleaning
uniform when cleaning, cooking, or performing other chores around the house."
She paused and stepped into my view in front of the sliding glass door. "But you
also have instructions to be careful!"
The last was said with an icy inflection. Her eyes were fierce. I looked down
instinctively.
"Yes Mistress." I replied.
"From now on, if you aren't on a dry, level floor in the house then you're to
take the high heels off."
"Yes Mistress."
"And..." She paused and flicked her wrist twice, tapping each of my breasts with
the tip of the rubber tongue. Tiny slapping sounds and a light sting were the
result. I shivered. "If the task requires other footwear then you're to use it.
If you need to do something in the back yard after a rainstorm then you're to
wear rubber boots because the ground will be slippery. If you are taking a trip
to the attic to fetch something then you'll change into sneakers for the climb
so you don't slip your heels on the rungs of the ladder or ruin your bare
stockings on the rough floor of the attic. Is that clear?"
She tapped my nipples again with flicks of her wrist, but harder. It stung quite
a bit. My nipples felt like they swelled with the pain. I closed my eyes,
squirmed, and managed to answer through clenched teeth, "Yes Mistress."
"Good." I heard Mistress pad off behind me. I opened my eyes and could see
nothing but the vertical blinds of the sliding glass door again. I turned my
head to see Mistress behind me. She held the rubber tongue back, away from her
body. She was ready to strike. I hung my head and closed my eyes. I knew it
would hurt.
"I want you to count." Mistress said, "Tell me the number of each stroke like a
good girl. Understand?"
I nodded. Then the first blow came. It felt like strips of my skin had been
ripped from my body. I screamed. I writhed. If not for the ropes holding me on
my toes I probably would have fallen through the sliding glass door. But I was
held fast. I didn't move more than half an inch forward but I swayed. I nearly
forgot to count.
"One Mistress." I whimpered.
"You are NOT to endanger yourself in order to adhere to my preferences. Do you
understand pet?"
"Yes Mistress, I..." I started, but the second blow landed then. A stripe of
fire dug itself into my read end. I screamed again. Tears welled in my eyes. I
sniffled. "Two Mistress."
"That means you are not to perform tasks that are dangerous while wearing high
heels. Do you understand pet?"
"Yes Mistress." I shut my eyes tight and clenched my teeth for the blow that I
suspected was coming. Mistress didn't disappoint me. It landed across my left
shoulder and felt as though my arm had been torn off. I yelped and writhed
again. I hung by my wrists for a moment until I pulled myself up onto my feet
again and stuttered, "Th... three Mistress."
"And you are not to drip cool whip on my carpet. Do you understand?"
"Yes Mistress." And again she lashed me with the rubber tongue, this time across
the right shoulder. Tears ran down my cheeks. I hurt. The rubber tongue was
nearly as bad as a cane. It was vicious. My flesh felt like it was on fire
everywhere the devil had touched me. "Four Mistress."
"Good."
Then there were five stripes on my body from the rubber tongue. Then six. Then
more. Each was punctuated by a question from Ms Loren. Each was answered. I
somehow managed not to loose count. Fifteen strikes came and went before
Mistress was satisfied.
Then Mistress glided into my field of vision. "I'm going to get you down from
there." She said. Her soft fingers wiped tears from my cheeks. She stood on her
tiptoes and kissed my forehead. My wrists hurt and it took me a moment to
realize that I was dangling from them completely. I extended my feet and stood
on my toes again. My calves protested with soreness but it was nothing compared
to the pain caused by the rubber tongue.
Then I was on the bed. I didn't remember how I got there. I just was on the bed.
Mistress was holding me, petting my hair. "Good girl." She repeated, over and
over. "Good girl."
"Do you like your birthday present Mistress?" I finally managed to ask. My voice
sounded weak to my own ears.
"Yes pet." She replied. Her grin permeated her voice. "I like it a great deal.
Though I'm betting that you regret having the hooks installed at least a little
bit right now." I blushed. I didn't have to answer. Mistress laughed. "I thought
so." She said.
Then she took my hair in her hands. She gently guided my body down, my face
between her legs. "Now pet," She said, nearly purring, "As I said on the
phone... I've missed you."
