An Apology - Chapter I
I didn't have to follow someone into the apartment building as I planned.
Instead, someone unlocked the front door just as I rounded the corner. He must
have heard me behind him. At any rate, he turned, grinned, and held the door for
me. I thanked him and hurried into the well-lit vestibule. His eyes slid all
over my body as I walked. It both scared and excited me. It was a small price to
pay for the element of surprise.
After a short elevator ride I stood at her door. I sat the small bag I was
carrying to one side and knelt on her doormat. Clearing my hair from my face
with one hand, I lifted the long stemmed, red rose with the other. I'd been sure
to choose one with the thorns intact. My lips found a smooth portion of the stem
and my teeth soon clamped down just hard enough to hold it firmly in my mouth.
The blossom's pungent perfume wafted to my nostrils as I knocked on the door.
A click-click-clicking sound approached from the other side of the door.
Mistress was wearing shoes, high heels even. Did she just get in from work? Had
she seen me come up the street from her window? Was she planning a night out?
Did she have a visitor? It flashed through my mind that perhaps surprising her
was not such a good idea.
I heard a latch slide and nearly gasped. My hands instinctively found one
another behind my back. I barely had time to cross my right ankle over my left
beneath me before the door swung open. I was careful to keep my chin level to
the floor and my gaze focused downward. Doing so left only Mistress' boots in
plain view but through peripheral vision I had a sense of her above me. I think
she either crossed her arms or placed her hands on her hips. I'm unsure which.
"You didn't ring up." Mistress stated flatly, "You should have done so. I do not
appreciate you just showing up on my doorstep unannounced." I blinked,
swallowed hard, and nodded. There was no emotion readily apparent in her words
or speech pattern. "I'm still upset, you know." She continued as she leaned
forward and took the rose from between my teeth.
"Yes Mistress." I replied, licking my lips. I was glad she had taken the rose
quickly and not had me hold it all night.. I leaned forward to greet her as she
had taught me. My hands kept their place behind my back while I kissed each of
her boots lightly so as not to leave any lipstick. "I apologize Mistress. It was
not my intention to displease you in the slightest." I kissed her boots several
more times until she eventually stepped back out of my reach.
"That's enough." She said, "Now get inside before my neighbors catch sight of
you. Stay on your knees though. You are not to walk or stand while in my
presence until I tell you otherwise."
"As you wish Mistress." I replied quickly, careful to keep the disappointment
from my voice. I wanted to cry. I wanted to pout. I wanted to look up into her
beautiful eyes and beg. I wanted to throw a temper tantrum right there in her
doorway. I was no fledgling submissive. I hadn't been confined to crawling since
the very early days of my training. But I didn't dare protest. Instead, I placed
my hands on the ground in front of my knees, snatched the bag from beside the
doorframe with my teeth, and crawled onto the smooth linoleum floor just inside
her apartment.
I left the bag there. Mistress had me kneel in her living room. She scolded me
in a harsh voice for what seemed like an eternity. I was reminded of my poorly
chosen, disrespectful words earlier in the week. I was also told that I was
never, under any circumstances, to show up unannounced at her door. She
complimented me with one sentence, telling me I was a smart girl and could
easily figure things out for myself. Then she degraded me with the next, telling
me what a stupid little slut I was.
It was too much to bear after being remanded to crawl. I cried. I tried to hold
back the tears but couldn't I was overwhelmed with shame that I had upset
Mistress so badly. I sniffled and sobbed until she slapped me with an open hand.
I regained my composure as best I could as the lecture continued. Her long,
blonde hair swayed with emotion as she paced back and forth, chastising me. I
held back more tears and answered curtly when appropriate. My eyes were glued to
the floor.
By the time she stopped I had to use the bathroom. I didn't see Mistress' evil
smile when I meekly asked to be excused. I didn't have to. I felt the menace it
contained from across the room. It took me a moment to understand why.
Since I was confined to the floor, on my hands and knees, I couldn't use the
toilet. I had to use her cat's litter box. It was so very humiliating. She
watched every second as I hiked up my skirt, slid my panties off, and squatted
over the litter tray in her bathroom. Tears ran down my face when she told me to
look at her while I relieved myself. I did it though, staring into her icy eyes
and crying as I listened to my own urine flow.
When I finished and begged for toilet paper, Mistress grabbed a fistful of my
hair and held my nose a mere centimeter above the wet spot where I had pissed.
She scolded me anew for disrespected her earlier in the week. She told me what a
bad little girl I was. Then I was given a single square of toilet paper.
She made sure I wiped front and back thoroughly then held out her hand. I
blinked up at her for an instant before placing the tissue stained with my urine
and smelling of my asshole into her palm. Mistress merely rolled her eyes before
balling the toilet paper into a wad. She then promptly stuffed it in my mouth
and held my nose until I swallowed it.
Thankfully, Mistress didn't keep me on the floor all night. After having me lick
her hand clean of my messy toilet paper, she bade me stand and attend to her
personally. I leapt at the opportunity.
I forgot everything while brushing her hair. I forgot the e-mail I sent earlier
that week which had upset her so badly. I forgot the scolding in the living
room. I forgot that I was confined to crawling about the floor. I even forgot
that the taste in my mouth was my own.
It was impossible to remember those things while the silken, spun gold strands
of her hair slipped through my fingertips like velvety water. It was heaven to
run the brush through her mane over and over again. I didn't have to imagine how
good it must feel to her. Her sighs gradually decreased in fervor from
frustrated and angry to contentment and pleasure.
Eventually, Mistress ordered me to stop. She placed the brush on her desk and
turned to face me. I assumed the default position that she taught me so long
ago. I spread my feet approximately two feet and crossed my wrists behind my
back. As was her preference, my wrists were laid right over left.
She turned back to her desk. I occasionally heard the scratching of a pen or the
tapping of computer keys. Regardless, I kept my eyes on the floor in front of
me. Though I occasionally glanced up enough to see the clock on the far wall.
Fifteen minutes passed while I stood idle and the brush sat on her desktop. I
daresay it ached to be used every bit as much as I did.
During that time I remembered exactly why I had come to see Mistress that night
and what I had said earlier. It was something I couldn't even mention to her.
She had forbidden it, knowing that I would want to beg and plead for her
forgiveness. She knew I would want immediate punishment.
That led me to think of many different types of punishment and how each affected
me. My own hypercritical nature toward failure was the worst punishment any
Dominant could hope for. Beyond that, light physical pain was one part
humiliation and one part pleasure. It was more for play than punishment.
Humiliation drew a similar response from me.
Intense pain, on the other hand, was something I did not take well. I was
particularly frightened by the use of a cane. I felt the hairs at the back of my
neck rise as I thought about the long, slender reeds. Only the lightest of
touches allowed a cane to be anything but severely painful.
Yes, I thought to myself, I wanted punishment, but not simply for punishment's
sake. I wanted the absolution it provided both the administrator and recipient.
I wished Mistress to bind me, beat me, leave me bruised or even bleeding. I
didn't care how much pain I had to suffer. I only wished that Mistress were no
longer hurt by my careless words. It was bad enough when I made a mistake during
my training but to have actually hurt Mistress' feeling with my words was
unthinkable. Yet, I had done just that earlier in the week. How could I?
Suddenly, Mistress' voice stabbed through the still room. "tara, look at me!" I
lifted my gaze to meet a cold, penetrating stare and shivered. She gestured
toward the apartment's foyer and asked, "What's in the bag?"
I blinked once or twice and stammered. "I... Mistress... there are..."
"Out with it slut!" She all but screamed in frustration. I cringed and shivered
yet again.
"Yes Mistress." Came my automatic reply, though my voice shook with desperation,
"But... if it would please you Mistress, may I request to show you? Please?"
My eyes had long since returned to their focal point on the floor but I could
tell by the shift in my peripheral vision that Mistress sat back in her chair. I
think she crossed her arms. There was a brief silence. Mistress sighed, then
spoke again. Her words sounded crisp and carefully chosen. "Yes pet, I think you
should show the contents of the bag to me. You will do so in the nude. Strip.
Now. Fold your clothes and place them behind you in the corner."
I voiced my compliance and turned to face the corner, stepping gracefully from
my high-heeled pumps. Each of my garments slid from my body with little effort.
They were folded and neatly stacked by fingers that barely seemed mine at all. I
was wearing only a black leather collar when I faced Mistress once again and
returned my hands to their position behind my back.
"Good," Mistress declared calmly, "Now present the items in the bag to me in
proper fashion."
"Yes Mistress." I responded and dropped to my hands and knees. I wasn't sure if
I was still restricted to crawling, but I wasn't going to take a chance by
assuming that I was not. I moved from the living room to the foyer, being very
careful not to wag my ass. Mistress liked to see my hips sway but not as I was
crawling away from her. I did, however, sway my hips as seductively as I could
manage while crawling back into the room.
I didn't dare take my gaze from the floor and was unsure if Mistress had seen me
or even knew I was in the room until I was nearly at her feet. It was then that
I heard her whistle between her teeth. It was then that I knew she had seen the
gag that I had placed in the small of my back to carry across the room. It was
then that I knew she noticed the cane between my teeth and the hopeful look in
my eyes.
She brushed my cheek and the skin at the small of my back as she took the cane
and gag into her own hands. The gag's buckles jingled. I opened my jaw to
release the cane when I knew her fingers had hold of it. Then I saw it rise up
out of my field of vision.
I stayed there, on my hands and knees before her. All I could see was the bottom
of the chair, her boots, and the smooth, tanned skin of her upper calves. I
risked movement to kiss the boot nearest me. It was something that Mistress
usually allowed. I had no idea if she would be wroth with me for it.
My lips touched the smooth leather and I closed my eyes. It felt cool. My lips
lingered for a long time until I heard Mistress draw a breath as if to speak.
Then I heard her chuckle when I immediately lay a flurry of soft kisses all over
the leather surface. After a moment she said, simply, "Enough." The one word
wafted from her lips toward my ears near the floor.
I sat back, careful not to let my hands to leave the floor. Mistress had ordered
me on my hands and knees. I wouldn't dare leave that position until she told me
it was allowed. So I sat on my haunches. My right ankle was crossed over my left
beneath me. Not knowing what else to do, I stared at her boots and waited her
command.
I was greeted instead with a soft whooshing sound. Mistress was sending the cane
through the air with a flick of her wrist. I heard it again, and again. She
knew I feared canes. She played with me, no doubt watching and enjoying herself
as I cringed. "This isn't a bad piece of equipment pet." She stated flatly.
"As you say, Mistress." I responded.
"I think it could mean a great deal of pain for you."
"Yes Mistress."
"Shall we find out?"
"If it pleases you Mistress, then yes, I beg that we do."
All the while I heard the whoosh, whoosh of the cane as she flicked it back and
forth effortlessly. Fear rose in my mind like a languid dragon, born for the
sky. It felt cool and unrelenting as it spread through my limbs.
But I would not run or plead for release. I was the one who brought the cane. I
knew what it meant. I also knew that Mistress was well aware, and hoped she
would regard my offer with sincerity. I all but prayed it would wash away both
my guilt and her anger.
Mistress moved her chair a bit and pointed to the space beneath the desk. I
nodded and crawled under the large, antique mahogany structure. I turned to face
Mistress just as she moved her chair forward to almost the exact same place it
had been. Then she extended one leg in my direction. I kissed the tip of her
boot as I heard her voice, "Take these off pet. I want a foot massage while I
think things over."
"Gladly Mistress." I replied, not sure she would hear me. I ran the zipper the
length of her calf and pushed my fingers gently between the leather and
Mistress' skin. The boot slid off easily. I sat it beside me and slowly passed
my fingers along the bottom of her foot from heel to toes. Then I reached for
her other.
Both boots were soon sitting beside me in the space beneath Mistress' desk as I
gently pressed and rubbed her feet. I occasionally kissed her ankles, the arch
of her foot, or her toes. Both feet were massaged several times. It seemed I was
there for an hour at least. Though I won't lie, I loved every moment of the
tender contact.
I had just realized just how wet I was when I was genuinely surprised by
Mistress's voice. "Enough." She said once more. I carefully guided her foot to
the ground and released it. Even though Mistress couldn't see, my hands both
returned to their place behind my back. "That was very nice," She said, "But now
I want a different kind of foot massage." I puzzled at her words for a moment
before she told me to turn around, spread my legs, and lower myself onto the top
of her bare foot. I swallowed hard and felt my sex ache.
I obediently pivoted one hundred eighty degrees and spread myself over her left
foot. I lowered myself until her skin touched mine. Then I stopped. There was no
doubt in my mind that she could feel exactly how excited I was. I was sopping
wet, to be sure.
"Well?" Came Mistress' voice, "What are you waiting for slut?"
"Yes Mistress," I responded, grinding myself down and then forward and back, "At
once Mistress." My voice twisted the air escaping my lungs into a long, guttural
moan.
Her foot was slick with my lubrication immediately. My slow, steady, grinding
rhythm coupled with the knowledge that it was Mistress' small, sexy foot that
was between my thighs only increased my desire. There would be a lot to clean up
afterwards and I had a sneaking suspicion that it would all be done with my
tongue.
The thought of licking my own wetness from Mistress' foot and ground down
harder, invoking another long moan. I almost exploded when the toes of her other
foot began probing my tight rear entrance. She pressed at the tender hole and
spread fire through my mind as she pushed one toe partially inside. She pushed
her toe farther and farther in me with each grinding thrust of my hips.
When I finally couldn't take it anymore, when I was at the very brink of bliss,
I begged to be allowed release. I pleaded with all my heart while it took every
ounce of my strength and will to hold my orgasm at bay. I was denied.
"Stop." Mistress commanded. I did, shaking like a leaf in a hurricane. "Lift."
She said. I did that as well, raising my bum in the air a bit. I had to bite my
lower lip to keep from whining and mewling like a cat in heat. "Turn." I
carefully spun so I was facing Mistress. She lifted her right foot, the one that
had probed my rear. "Lick only the big toe. It was the only part of that foot
that touched you."
Obediently I licked her toe softly. After a few long and lingering caresses with
my tongue I took her toe into my mouth. I slid my lips the length of it several
times before stopping to simply suck on it. Mistress' gasp let me know she
enjoyed the sensation.
Her left foot, wet with my lubrication, was slid on the floor and thrust in
front of me. Mistress' voice came again, "Now lick this foot clean, and don't
you dare forget that I have a cane in my hand." I heard the whoosh and cringed.
Then I lowered my mouth to the top of her foot.
I licked with lengthy strokes, savoring the salty sweetness of myself. I could
hardly believe she actually had me do it. Mistress had teased me with the idea
of making me lick my own juices from her feet before, but I thought it was just
that... teasing. Actually doing it was all at once humiliating and incredibly
erotic. I tasted very good and the fact that Mistress' beautiful feet held my
scent was so very arousing!
I licked my wetness from the top of her foot. Then I sucked and kissed each of
her toes. I lowered my head to lick the sole of her foot, assuring there was
none of my scent still there. I wanted it to last forever but Mistress' voice
eventually came at me again. "Stop."
I pouted silently until I heard the rustling of Mistress' skirt as she shifted a
bit. I noticed that her legs were parted and wanted so badly to look up between
her thighs. I kept my eyes on her sexy feet and the floor instead. I
concentrated on her ruby painted toenails. Then her feet came together and I saw
Mistress' hands sliding down her calves. They dragged her black silk panties
with them.
To be continued...
License and Credits:
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