by Sasha Bond
She lingered longer than necessary over my breasts, and when she rubbed my pussy even longer, instead of it getting dry, the opposite was happening. She even had me lift my feet and toweled between my toes, which tickled like hell, but I bit my lip and managed not to pull away.
She proclaimed her work finished, and I dropped back on my knees. Without a word, she turned and walked back to the table. I hastened to keep up with her on all fours. She snatched the writing pad and went over to the couch, flopping down in the middle, and like an obedient puppy, I knelt next to her.
She patted her lap. "Jump up and lay here, with your back across my thighs."
I did that, and it wasn't really comfortable, with just my back resting on her thighs and my bum and my head in the air. It got even more uncomfortable when she ordered me to spread my legs as far as the couch allowed and to stretch my arms over my head.
"Are you comfortable, little one?"
That endearment was new, and for a moment I felt compelled to lie to her. But I answered truthfully, "No, Mistress Summers."
"Good." She paused, perhaps to let it sink in. Somehow, she had become an enigma to me. While I had known her as a reliable, funny person under all her flightiness, she was now a mixture of loving tenderness and cruelty. But my thoughts didn't have long to stray.
"It's not meant to be comfortable. I want you accessible, in case I want to play with your tits or your pussy. And it's meant to make you more sensitive." A fingernail trailed over my stomach, slightly scratching my taut skin, which made my muscles twitch uncontrollably. My breath quickened and I had to fight the urge to squirm.
"See what I mean?"
"Yes, I do, Mistress Summers."
"Good. Then let's start going over your new house rules."
And go over the rules she did. It was a whole page, in her neat, small script. As she had hinted, she did play with my body while she read the rules, stroking me, pinching me, even sticking a finger up my pussy and having me suck it clean again. She pulled on my pubic hair until I squirmed, only to softly caress my nipples a minute later. Pleasure and pain, both in equal measures, until I was nothing more than a boneless heap of arousal once she was finished reading the rules. Of which I could only remember the first. 'I will always follow all of my Mistress' rules and orders, instantly and without hesitation.'
Of course she quizzed me about it, and I failed spectacularly.
For a moment, I feared that she'd be angry, but the knowing look in her eyes told me that I had performed as expected.
"I want you to memorize them before this evening," she told me, "and I'll quiz you again to make sure you have. Make sure to also memorize their number, I'll ask them out of order."
I gulped. The list was quite long. But on the other hand, I've had to memorize before for my courses and always scored well. So I said with some confidence "I will, Mistress Summers."
"Oh, I'm sure you will. I'll give you some incentive that will make sure of it. Get up on the floor and kneel on the other side of the table."
My back protested, as did my arms and legs, so I crawled rather slowly after I had managed to make it to the floor. But I managed, and I assumed what I had now privately dubbed 'the position'. Meanwhile, Rachel had put the rule list in front of me and was now rummaging in her school bag. With a "gotcha!" she came back, her fist closed around whatever she had been looking for, and looked at me expectantly.
"You've got a choice. Do you want the incentive for your nipples or your pussy?" I must have looked a bit lost. I didn't have the slightest clue what the incentive was, so how should I decide on one or the other? But Rachel got impatient. "Hurry up, we haven't got all day!"
"My pussy," I blubbered, hastily, before she could get really annoyed. "I choose my pussy Mistress Summers." That earned me a wide smile, and I was glad that I had pleased her. But not for long.
She ordered me to turn towards her, and when I did so, she opened her fist and showed me the two big, black binder clips she had hidden. They were at least three inches wide, those clips made from folded metal strips that closed on their own and could hold a hundred pages safely together, with two handles to squeeze them open. "Please, no!" I gasped, the color draining from my face, my hands instinctively covering my sex.
Rachel clucked reproachfully. "Are you refusing an order?"
Her eyes seemed to burn holes through my head, and I could only keep up with her stare for a few seconds. Then I hung my head, put my hands back behind me and whispered, "No, Mistress Summers."
"I'll let it go this time. But this is the last time; in the future, refusal means punishment. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Mistress Summers." I seemed to say that phrase quite often, I noticed, while I watched Rachel crouch down on one knee in front of me.
"Whatever happens, keep looking me in the eyes. And keep your wrists behind your back."
I nodded while I kept my eyes on hers, the trepidation about what she was going to do constricting my chest for a moment, and it seemed enough.
Her fingers nestled with my left pussy lip, stretching it out, running up and down its length. It felt good, and she took her time finding the right spot. She managed to make me almost forget about the clip, but just as I started to hump against my finger, cold metal wrapped around my lip and closed down on it with a snap.
It hurt, so much that it made my eyes mist up. But Rachel, clearly enjoying the picture of my teary eyes and trembling lips, stroked my cheek and promised me that the worst of the pain would soon fade. She was right, too. After a minute, the sharp pain had turned into a dull throb, and the prospect of wearing them for a period of time did seem a bit more realistic.
Then it was the turn for the right pussy lip. She once more, and despite me expecting it, tricked me into forgetting about the clip by arousing me. It hurt just as much, perhaps more, because I now knew how long it took until the pain lessened.
"They will stay on until you have memorized the rules, each and every one of them." I had expected that, but one can always hope. "I'll go out for two hours, so that's the earliest you can get rid of the clips. And don't think I'll not know if you take them off in between. Once I'm back, you can ask me to quiz you, but only if you're sure you know the rules inside and out. Otherwise we'll have to add more incentives." She winked, and I gulped. "Questions?"
"No, Mistress Summers."
"Good, then start memorizing and don't mind me until I'm back."
So I turned towards the table and tried to suck the wording of the rules into my head, while Rachel was bustling around behind me and got ready to go out. After some time the door opened and closed, and everything went quiet.
* * * *
Memorizing the rules was hard. I read them and re-read them, again and again. After maybe half an hour, I couldn't tell the time because the clock was directly behind me, the ache in my pussy lips got stronger, and I felt my concentration straying. I started to read the rules aloud, to keep my focus on the words, but I caught myself reading mechanically, without realizing exactly what I was reading, more and more often.
The rules themselves added their own part to my distraction. They were quite devilish.
I was to stay naked all the time inside our flat, unless we had visitors. I wasn't allowed to close the bathroom door. I wasn't even allowed to go to the loo without Rachel's permission. I had to address her as Mistress Summers or Ma'am at all times, unless in the company of strangers. I was not allowed to be outside the flat without her permission.
I was not allowed my own money, only what she handed out to me, and to that extent she even required me to hand over my bank cards and pin numbers, together with the pin to my cell phone. This one made me doubt the whole thing, but then I read the small note she had scribbled next to it about a safe-word and listing the pin to her small safe, realizing this was more about trust than anything, and it went both ways.
Any clothes I wore were to be selected by her. She was allowed to do with my body whatever she wished. A
nd still things got more intense.
I wasn't allowed to masturbate without her permission, and even touching my pussy or tits other than for washing them was forbidden. Of course, cleaning the flat, doing the dishes and all those chores I had already been doing were also on my list, but now with the promise of punishment if I let anything slide.
All infractions of the rules had to be recorded by me in a special punishment book, which Rachel would consult each evening to decide the nature and severity of my punishment. A schedule that she was free to change to her liking, of course.
I was not allowed to lie - which wouldn't be much of a problem for me - but I also wasn't allowed to omit or circumvent the truth. And finally, the most devious of rules: every time I heard the word 'bunny-ears' or when two fingers - the rules especially said 'anybody's two fingers', which made my skin tingle - drew a hash sign anywhere on my body, I had to answer the last question in the affirmative, anytime, anywhere, no matter who was there.
Those rules meant she owned me, almost without limits. And now that I had stopped struggling against those strange feelings inside me, reading one of them sent a dull, painful yearning through my pussy that had nothing to do with the binder clips. I was wet, incredibly so.
When Rachel came back, the pain in my pussy lips was becoming hard to bear. Small tremors shook my lower body every few seconds, and when she opened the door, my bum must have been quite the sight, shaking like Jell-O. Still, I was concentrating like I had never before, and by this time I had not just the words memorized, but could see the whole rule sheet before my inner eyes, word for word, letter for letter.
I heard the rustling of paper bags behind me, then the clicking of her sandals approaching me. Her hands came to rest on my shoulders, and she bent over me. I recognized the dress she was wearing, white, with a wide collar and some blue patches; like a mix between a tennis dress and a sailor suit, it was quite stylish.
"Have you made progress, Beth?"
And with a huge smile, I answered "Yes, Ma'am, everything, word for word. Please quiz me."
Her eyes widened, and then narrowed. "Are you sure, absolutely sure? It's your last chance to change your mind. If you fail to answer a single question, you'll be back to memorizing, and the last two hours will seem like a walk in the park."
But I was confident, more confident than I had ever been in a quiz for school. And I let her know.
Soon, she was propped on the sofa, her naked feet resting on the table in front of me, and quizzing me on rules and numbers. And I answered every single one with a shaking voice and brightly flushed cheeks. It was exhausting, but over time, a proud giddiness gripped me.
Then Rachel clapped, and I thought my cheeks would rupture, so wide was my grin.
"Well done, little one," she congratulated me, "I know that you're a quick learner, but I wouldn't have thought it possible that you could memorize them that fast."
"Thank you, Mistress Summers," I answered, even a little cheekily. "It's just a question of the right incentive."
That made her laugh. "Oh my, you're brilliant. But I'll remember that comment, and pray that it won't come back and bite you in your lovely bum. But you know what?" She studied me with a smile. "Because you were such a good girl with the memorizing, we're going out tonight."
"I'd like that, Ma'am."
"Oh, I know you will." That was a bit ominous, but I didn't want to get a headache about things that were hours in the future. "Drink some water, then join me on the bed."
And now that she said it, I realized that my mouth was quite dry, and I gladly crawled over to the kitchenette and poured myself a big glass of water which I gulped down without a break. Someone, somewhere, had commented that I was never to go near the Great Lakes, because I'd dry out Lake Michigan in a fortnight after seeing my drinking habits. My water drinking habits, that is, I've never been a big fan of alcohol, it made me dizzy and stupid. I grew up on a farm, that's where I had learned to drink much and quickly, just a question of necessity after a half day of climbing ladders, jumping into the hay and playing catch across the stubble fields.
With my thirst sated, I put the glass into the sink and crawled to Rachel's bed. She had meanwhile changed into one of her large t-shirts, a white one that read 'slut tamer'. I had seen it before and found it a funny gag. Now, I looked at it with different eyes.
Rachel grinned, aware of the thoughts running through my head. "C'mon," she ordered, "hop onto the bed. I've been running around all morning and my feet hurt. I need a foot massage."
So I climbed onto the bed at her feet and was just settling down and extending a hand towards her right foot, when she stopped me.
"I've changed my mind. What I need is a tongue bath."
I looked down at her feet that had been inside her sandals for hours and collected sweat and dust. It was gross.
But then I remembered rule number one - to follow every order, instantly and immediately. Heat rushed up my body and into my face. I dropped to my side and lifted her foot a bit. There was something incredibly dirty about the idea alone, and I stared at it for long moments, struggling with myself. And the longer I looked at her pretty feet, the faster my breaths became.
I licked the sole from heel to toes, hesitantly, afraid that this single act of submission might be too much for me. It tasted sweet and salty, and a bit stale, but after a second lick, I decided that I've had worse in fast food restaurants. A quick glance at Rachel's face showed her head tilted back, her eyes closed and a smile on her lips. That was all the encouragement I needed, and I continued licking her soles with gusto.
Once I had finished with both, she told me to straddle her so I'd be better able to reach the upper side of her feet. This also had the advantage that she was able to play with my pussy, and play she did!
While I licked her feet, sucked on her toes and let my tongue roam between them, her fingers were busy rubbing my throbbing clit. She brought me to the brink of orgasm and held me there for minutes, only to back off and let me cool down before she started over. I was almost going crazy, but I focused on my task and worshipped her feet, like a good submissive should - even if my gasps, moans, and jerks made it hard to keep my tongue on its course.
Finally, after what seemed like hours, I was allowed to stop. My tongue felt dry and swollen, and my pussy and nipples ached with need, so intense that I didn't even realize that I was still wearing the clamps.
I lay down as ordered, and with Rachel spooning me once more, I fell into an exhausted sleep.
***
I awoke with a groan and the dizzy feeling a daytime nap always brought with it. A sharp pain shot through my left nipple, but it thankfully vanished just as fast as it had come. Rubbing my eyes, I found myself lying on Rachel's bed on my back, with her kneeling next to me, one hand on my left breast and a big smile on her face.
"Welcome back in the land of the living," she teased, and pinched my nipple again!
That made me gasp, but I guessed that I should answer her; so, still a bit groggy, I stammered, "Thank you, Mistress."
Then I tried to shift my legs a bit, which turned out as a really, really bad idea. The clamps on my pussy lips moved, and my sex became a well of hot agony. I shrieked, and instinctively moved my hands to cup it. Which was just as bad, if not worse, because I pressed on the clamps' small handles and re-ignited the pool of molten fire. And because I remembered rule thirteen. No touching my pussy. I pulled my hands away and put them to my sides. I was too late, the clucking of Rachel's tongue against her gums told me she hadn't missed it either.
"Oh, Beth," she sighed and softly stroked my breast, "What shall I do with you? Things were going so well, and now it took you only a few seconds after waking up to earn your first punishment."
Her hand kept stroking my breast, running all over it, rubbing my nipple, while she knelt there with a pensive expression. It felt wonderful and even managed to distract me a bit from the ache between my legs. Then her other hand did the same with my rig
ht breast, and my breath quickened and my back arched to meet her soft hands. Small moans betrayed how pleasurable it felt to me, and I could feel my nipples try to tighten into needle tips. Again, just with simple touch, Rachel managed to evoke feelings in me that I had never experienced before.
And again, she stopped, leaving me breathless and aroused.
"Please, An... Ma'am." I begged, and winced before I had finished the short sentence.
"That's number two. I'll have to get creative if you keep this up."
I closed my eyes, feeling some strange mixture of misery and excitement. "I'm sorry, Ma'am."
Maybe apologizing would make the punishment easier, but she instantly dissuaded me from that notion. She leaned forward until her face was just inches from mine, her long blonde hair tickling my cheek, and smiled innocently while telling me, "You will be, Beth, you most certainly will." And then she kissed me, a lover's kiss, and I parted my lips to allow her tongue to roam around my mouth, to rub against my own, soft and tasty. One hand came back to caress my breast, and I moaned into her mouth, sucked on her tongue and basked in the feeling of belonging that wrapped around me like a warm blanket.