“I am upset that you yelled at me and that you cursed at me. I am also upset that Holly kicked you and accused you of those awful things. And I’m also upset with Bizzy and myself. Bizzy was my first mistress. I met her after my mother got cancer. She groomed me and she helped me through a really tough time. Once I got through that period in my life, she saw that I was not a submissive, so with kid gloves, she taught me everything she knew about being a Dominant. She is a good person and an excellent teacher. I don’t know what Holly’s problem is, but Bizzy matters to me. She is more than my friend. She is my mentor. I wanted her to see how lovely you are. I wanted her to be proud of me for picking such an amazing little girl.
“You should have come to me right away, as soon as Holly’s behavior was getting to be too much for you. You should have come to me, and Bizzy would have dealt with Holly. Instead, you cursed me out and accused me of things that you know aren’t true. In front of my mentor. Holly is a brat and I do not like her. And she has been with Bizzy for a week. Bizzy will train her or Bizzy will toss her, but either way, you should have come to me.”
I keep silent. I don’t know what to say. “If I am asking too much of you, you need to let me know. But I don’t think I am. Eat your dinner and then it’s the time for bed.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I say. My voice is rough.
“I didn’t make Holly that dress. I made it for my first girl, Crystal. Holly and Crystal are the same size so I gave Bizzy the dress.” She hands me my fork, then leaves the room.
I need to eat. My stomach is rumbling, so I eat, but it takes effort to swallow every bite. When I finish, I wash out my dish and put it away. When I go back to my room, Sir Bears-Alot is gone and my phone is back on my bed. I toss it on my bureau.
I start to cry. It’s not one thing. It’s everything. I hurt Pilar and I embarrassed her. She’s mad at me and I’m still a little upset with her. Still, deep down I know the issue is that I’m starting to love her. This situation between us isn’t cut-and-dried. I think about what I said and who I said it to, how pissy I was after my timeout. I was a brat. I was rude to Pilar. I think I love her, and I took out my sore shin and my sexually tortured bear on her. I think about loving her and I’m even more upset.
I can’t trust that love because it’s wrapped up in submission, and pretty rompers, and ducky underwear, and pink roses, and bubble baths. She’s giving me the fantasy right in the middle of my dull reality, and I don’t know what to do with it. I don’t know how to tell her that I don’t want to share her because I love her so much. I don’t know how to say that I’m this needy. Laurel was right. I’m needy and annoying, and when I don’t get my way, I become no better than Holly.
I’m needy, and if I don’t get it under control, Pilar will get rid of me, too.
When Pilar comes into my room, I’m sobbing uncontrollably. I think I’m on the verge of a panic attack. She picks me up and carries me to the couch. I had no idea she was so strong. She sits me down across her lap, careful not to put pressure on my ass, and I can’t stop crying.
She rocks me. She whispers sweet things.
“I’m sorry,” I manage to say. “Please don’t get rid of me. I’m sorry.”
“Shh, baby. I’m not going to get rid of you. Just calm down.”
“I didn’t mean to swear at you.”
“Oh yes, you did.” Pilar laughs a little. “But I’m not going to get rid of you. I’m stuck on you, my little Suzy. I’ll spank you again if I have to, but I won’t get rid of you.” She pulls me closer, and I wrap my arm around her waist and bury my face in her chest. Sooner rather than later, the tears start to slow. She rubs my back. I nuzzle closer.
“That wasn’t a spanking,” I mumble. “You tried to kill me.”
She laughs. “Quiet now, my Suzy girl.”
I don’t know when it happens, but I fall asleep. When she wakes me up, I’m still in her arms.
Chapter Six
Pilar wakes me up around ten. She slides me to the other side of the couch, then leaves the room. When she returns, she has lotion, a washcloth, some water, some ice cream, and Frank. She’s wearing her pajamas and directs me over her lap so she can put the lotion on my bottom. It’s a soothing lotion, and even though it doesn’t take the pain completely away, it helps a lot. Once I sit up, she wipes my face, and then she pops open the ice cream. We share a spoon.
“Tell me what’s really bothering you,” she says.
I think about what I should have said at breakfast, when she asked me what I had on my mind the first time. I think about what I said instead of the whole truth, and I think about Laurel. I can change certain things, but I can’t change who I am.
“I’m too needy.”
“That’s what your old mistress called you. Is that what you think now?”
“Yes.” Pilar wipes my face again as a few leftover tears escape.
“Why do you think you’re needy in relationship to me?”
“This morning when you told me Bizzy and Holly were coming over, I was angry. I wanted to spend the day alone with you. You gave me a great week. The flowers, and the midweek overnight, and the phone calls. You let me play my game last night, and then after…I want to spend as much time alone with you as possible. I still want more.”
“You understand I have to keep you wanting, don’t you? That’s part of this. If you don’t want anything from me anymore, then we’re done. That’s when you don’t need me anymore.”
“I didn’t think of it that way.”
“That’s how I think of it all the time. When you don’t want to see me alone, I’m in trouble. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“What else is on your mind?”
“I didn’t like being blindsided by their visit. I know you make the plans and the rules, but that caught me off guard in a bad way. I know you told me to manage my expectations, but I didn’t think you’d have guests.”
“Hmm.” Pilar thinks for a moment. “That’s fair. Is there anything else?”
“I do want to meet other little girls. I liked the idea of getting to know Holly before I actually met her, but—”
“She’s horrible. I would never make her a dress, baby. I’d stab her with the scissors before I even finished measuring her.”
I snort and swallow a bit of ice cream too fast.
“I’ll make some calls and see what I can do. This isn’t a game to me, and I don’t want you to think I don’t care about your feelings and your well-being. I want you to be happy with me, and I want you to be happy and feel safe with anyone I introduce you to. How’s your leg?”
“It’s fine.” I look down and the bruise isn’t pretty, but at this point it hurts less than my ass, which is still tender. “No worse than walking into a table corner. I just can’t believe she kicked me.”
“Me either. Well.” Pilar lets out a heavy breath. “If I have major plans that involve people outside of this relationship, I’ll tell you beforehand. And I am hearing what you’re telling me. You want more.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have to apologize for that.”
“I don’t want you to think I’m ungrateful. Today was bad, I know. I just love being with you.”
“I know, baby.” Pilar takes another spoonful of ice cream before she says, “You can stay up another hour and then it’s time for bed. Tomorrow we start fresh.”
I almost tell her that I think I may be in love with her, but instead I say okay. I want to, but I don’t argue when she puts me in my own bed. I’m starting to understand about the wanting.
*
The next day, Pilar wakes me up for a late breakfast, but before we leave my room she has something to tell me.
“I thought over what you said yesterday, and while we have our nights where we play games and our nights where you relax, we need to add a component. We’ll try it today, and then tonight you tell me how it makes you feel.”
“Okay.”
“Go get wa
shed up and come right back here.”
I do as she asks, and when I return, she’s still waiting for me with a fresh pair of flora panties with a really cute lace trim. I stand in front of her and she slips them on me. After, she has me sit on the floor so she can braid my hair. At that moment I focus on the fact that Pilar has never shied away from my hair. It’s really long and thick. I’ve had hairdressers groan when I sit down in their chair, but Pilar’s never said a word. Instead, she hums. She doesn’t braid it too tight or too loose, which I really like, and when she’s done, she ties my pigtails off and adds ribbons. I like this look and I like that she likes it on me. She tells me to stand up, and when I do and turn around, she hands me Frank and says, “Let’s go have breakfast.”
We walk into the kitchen and something tells me to stand until she instructs me to do otherwise. She’s oddly quiet and a little formal. She’s looking for a certain kind of submission and I want to give it to her.
She brings some cereal and milk to the table, and the fruit we didn’t finish during our lunch with Bizzy and her little maniac. She pulls out the chair perpendicular to the table and takes a seat. She looks up at me. Another chance for me to take. I sit on her lap. Apparently that was the right thing to do. She runs her finger over my shoulder and drags it down to my nipple. I shiver a little and hold Frank tighter.
“Why did you pick this little guy? You have so many toys in there.”
I shrug her and give her an honest answer. “He’s floppy and soft. I like floppy and soft.”
“I like your reasoning.” She smiles as she reaches for the spoon. “Open up.” And she brings some cereal to my mouth. I let her feed me. This goes on for a little while in silence, but she watches me carefully the whole time. She takes a few bites for herself, then feeds me some more. We enjoy our whole breakfast this way, and I mean enjoy. We’ve fucked a number of times, but this is the most intimate thing we’ve done. Her bending me over the bed and banging me silly is hot, and perfect, and amazing, but Pilar’s fingers wiping stray milk off my lip? That’s closeness. It’s what I want. I want to eat fruit or our cereal out of her hand. I want to be in her lap as often as possible. The way she drags her finger down my belly is a sign of true affection. It makes me feel special, not needy or annoying.
“We’re staying in today,” she says.
“Okay.”
“I have some knitting to do. Do you want to keep me company while I knit?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, my Suzy. Go into my sewing room and get my orange bag. I’ll meet you the living room.”
“Okay.”
She winks at me as I stand. “Frank will keep you company.”
I go to her sewing room and grab her orange bag. When I come into the living room, she’s sitting in her big chair with a large pillow between her legs. “You’ll sit on the floor from time to time, but I don’t want to irritate your bruise or your bottom. Come sit down.” I do as she asks and look up at her. She rubs my cheek before she picks up her needles.
The hours we spend before lunch are this strange sort of perfect. We watch The Food Network, and every time I say something looks delicious, she makes a small noise of approval. When I see things I think I could make, she teases that I should poison the people in my office with my experimental recipes before I try to make them for her. I like when she teases me like that because she always touches me afterward. She’s knitting like crazy, but she still touches me.
I move around like a restless child. I spend some time with my head on her knee and some time lying across the floor and the pillow. Either way I’m always touching some part of her body. I like feeling her skirt against my bare skin. I like the accidental brushes of my nipples against her legs.
At a certain point I realize I have a soft square of her work hanging over my shoulder. The yarn she’s using is a bright purple that fades to pink and back again.
“What are you making?” I ask.
“Blankets for little kiddies.” I look up at her, a little confused. “The women’s shelter downtown takes donations. They have kids in this shelter, and sometimes a blanket or a Frank is comforting when you’re staying in a new, scary place. So I make these blankets for them. I try to make each one as unique as possible, so each kid gets their own special blanket.”
I pick up the ball of yarn she’s working from. I’m good with budgets and execution. I’m good with organization, but other than some recent sidewalk drawings, I’ve let a lot of my creativity go. Pilar oozes creativity. Everything about her is style or design, and then she gives that talent away in her free time to kids who are going through a rough time.
And to me.
“I’m taking a break,” she suddenly announces. “Come up here.” As soon as her needles are out of the way, I climb into her lap and rest my head on her shoulder. Her one hand gathers me closer, wrapping around my side and holding me to her. With her other hand, she strokes my hip. She draws her fingers down my leg. She leans down and kisses me. This is a different kind of kiss. It’s probing and possessive, demanding. She takes my tongue as she squeezes my ass lightly. There’s a little pain, but I like it. We kiss for a long time. I squirm in her lap, my thighs clenching together, little desperate noises seeping from between our lips. When Pilar pulls away, she’s panting and her face is flushed. I can feel the heat rising under my own skin.
“Pull up my shirt,” she says. Her face is composed, but her voice is raw. Her fingers drift between my legs. “I want you to suck me while I touch you.”
I do as she asks and slide her T-shirt up to her chin. I pull one breast out of its satin cup and then the other. She’s touching the trim on my panties where the crotch meets my thigh. I’ve been a little wet since breakfast, but now I feel that unmistakable slickness between my legs. She rubs me over my underwear. For a moment I think I might like her fingers on me this way more than skin to skin. Something about the firmness of her hand or the way I can feel my wetness seeping through the fabric turns me on. I look up at her face before my eyes roll back in my head. She’s concentrating on my body.
I squirm some more before I lick her breast. I lick her again before I take her nipple into my mouth. She adjusts me effortlessly, and then she pulls my underwear aside.
The skin on skin is better.
Her breathing becomes heavier the more I lick and suck. I know her nipples are sensitive, but it’s not going to be enough for her. She knows that, too.
Pilar tips my chin up and we kiss again. She slips her fingers inside me. She’s determined to make me come, not that she’s ever taken a lazy approach, but I can feel that she won’t stop kissing me until I finish on her hand. I grip my arm around her neck and kiss her deeper.
I come with Pilar’s tongue in my mouth. I try not to, but the aftershocks force me to pull away. I need to breathe. She strokes another orgasm out of me, but the two climaxes nearly blend together.
I finally come down and Pilar kisses me again.
“Can I eat you out?” I ask when she pulls away.
She strokes my cheek. “Yes, baby. You may.”
I shuffle to the floor and in a heartbeat, my head is under her skirt. She’s already wet. I waste no time licking her slick thighs. She settles back into her chair and spreads her legs wider, giving me better access to her pussy.
I use my mouth on her for as long as she’ll let me. But soon she hoists me back up and captures my mouth with her lips. She seems to savor her own flavor as I rub her clit. She moans into my mouth, so I rub her harder. She scoots to the edge of the chair, so I don’t stop. She’s gripping my face in her hands, kissing me and kissing me as I do what she likes with my hand. She comes with what I’m starting to recognize as her groan of real satisfaction. I kiss her face and her chest. Her heart is pounding.
Pilar straightens her clothes after a moment, and then she stands me up and guides me over to the couch.
“It’s time for a little nap.” She hands me Frank and settles the blanket over me. “I’m
going to start lunch.” I have no idea how she’s so calm.
But before Pilar leaves the room I say her name. This time it’s “Mami” because that’s what feels right.
“Yes, baby.”
I weigh the options in my head. I’m deep under, my mind is floating. I don’t know if Pilar will find me in a more sublime state. I might regret it. Actually, I’m positive that I’m risking a lot by saying what’s really been on my mind, risking way more than I know I should, but I feel like I need to be honest.
“I love you.” I thank all that is God because my tone is light and not desperate and weepy. It’s anything but a light feeling for me, but I’m not sure I want her to know that. I’m fighting a smile when she comes back over to the couch. If those three words had sent her sprinting into the kitchen, I would have died right there on the spot. She squats down beside me and strokes my cheek. I can still smell our sex on her hand. It makes me squirm again.
“I love you, too, Suzy girl.” She smiles when she says it. It’s a genuine smile like the one she gave me the first time we met. I let myself smile back.
“You’re not going to go to sleep, are you?” she asks.
I hadn’t considered it, but I’m not exactly tired. I tell her the truth.
“You want to come keep me company in the kitchen?”
“Can I bring Frank?”
“You know Frank is always welcome.”
I grab my stuffed puppy and follow Pilar into the kitchen.
*
I feel a little strange. I’m eating lunch with Liam on the bench overlooking the garden, but I don’t have much of an appetite. Still, I tell him about my weekend with Pilar. I have to let him know the uniform was a success. At least I try to tell him, but I’m stuck. I’m still in my space, that’s the problem. I spent the rest of Sunday afternoon and Sunday night nearly naked at Pilar’s knees. We barely spoke, but I couldn’t get enough of her touching me, even if it was just simple caresses. She made me sleep in my own bed, which I accepted, but in the morning my head was anything but clear. I need a cleansing of sorts. After everything that happened with Bizzy and she who shall not be named, even after my punishment and our talk and the sex, I still have emotions pent up inside me.
At Her Feet Page 9