put all this away and do the dishes? Too long – oh, one look at the sink full of this morning’s dishes and she’d know something was suspicious. It was the one thing she’d asked me to do before she left.
Asked?
In her own way she asked: ‘Make sure the dishes get done before I get home tonight. Do you understand?’
‘Yes,’ had been my simple reply.
Oh, yes, I understood perfectly well. I knew that if they weren’t done I would pay for that transgression. I didn’t know how the consequences would occur but I had no doubts that they would, indeed, occur. Of that I had no doubt. And now it was too late to question the intelligence of the decision I had made not to do them. They still sat stacked in the same neat piles they had been in this morning. I could almost swear they were taunting me now. Now, when even they must know it was too late to change my mind.
The sound of a key unlocking the door invaded the thunderous silence of my own thought. Holding my breath, I watched as the figure of my lover filled the doorway. She had a way of making me forget even to breathe and my heart fluttered like a princess catching sight of the royal queen in the nude.
Seeing me standing in the entrance with signs of obvious apprehension made her raise an eyebrow inquisitively. A gleam of curiosity flickered in the depths of her hazel eyes before being shadowed by a mask of indifference.
‘Well, well, what has made you so eager to greet me and yet so hesitant to speak, little one?’ she asked softly.
It was a softness of voice that could be misleading. Now more than ever I wanted desperately to have just a few more minutes to do the damn dishes and how I anticipated pleasing her as well. Words were stuck in my throat. I felt my mouth open and close again but no sound came out.
She knew more by my silence than by my words that I had not done as she had asked. She was not going to let me off easily. She was not going to fill in the blanks for me; she was going to demand that I admit to my sin. And she was going to draw out the anticipation as long as she could. It was a gift she had – to say and do nothing and let me torture myself in the process.
Slowly, she took off her coat, hung it in the hall closet and said, ‘So, how was your day?’
My day? How was my day? How could she ask me that? What does she mean, how was my day? Images of how I spent the seemingly endless hours of my day flashed through my mind like a trailer for a new TV show.
This was going to be worse than I had imagined.
My day was spent preparing myself for what I knew was going to be a very satisfying night with you. My day was spent cleaning, dusting, vacuuming, scrubbing, showering and shaving to make everything perfect for you. The way you like it. My day was spent trying desperately to avoid the kitchen sink so as not to be tempted to do the one chore you asked of me. My day was spent wondering how you would react when you saw the dishes still piled up in the sink from this morning. My day was spent carefully planning and calculating this exact moment. But never once in the course of my day did I actually expect that I would have to tell you that I didn’t do the one task you had required of me. Never once during the entire day. How do I tell you all that?
Not knowing how to do so I said simply: ‘Fine.’
‘Fine? Tell me more. Tell me what you did today. Tell me everything,’ she demanded. Nervously, I began rattling off all the chores I had done during the day. While reciting the events of the day I began to walk with her to the bedroom where I untied her boots, removed them and set them neatly by the door. I almost added this to my list of events for the day but thought better of it and refrained.
‘Is that all?’ she said.
This was the moment I had been waiting for all day. I wanted the chance to tell her what I had really been doing all day.
‘No,’ I said.
I didn’t have the courage to look at her when I finished the rest of the sentence, so I stated the remainder of my memorised speech to her sock-clad feet.
‘I also prepared myself to show you how much I adore you. If you will only allow me to show you this, Mistress, it will hopefully be worthwhile for you. Please.’ I finished in a rush.
Surprised at this unusual change of topic she assessed me for a moment, then slowly inclined her head once to grant me permission to continue.
Thrilled at this opportunity to please her, I began to unbutton her shirt slowly, babbling about how much I had looked forward to her coming home and how eager I was to make her happy.
Her shirt was completely removed and I placed my hands on the buttons of her jeans.
Before I could continue she put her hands forcefully on top of mine to stop me. She said, ‘You will please me only when you are naked before me and not before.’
I stood before her and began to unbutton my shirt and let it slip gently over my shoulders and slide down my back to the floor. Shivering from the sensations of the starched cotton gliding over my soft skin, I unbuttoned my jeans and turned so that when I slid them down I would be bent over with my panty-clad ass in the air toward her.
A soft hiss of breath told me that she appreciated the view.
I stepped carefully out of each leg of my jeans before slowly turning back toward her.
Looking deep into her eyes, I unhooked my bra and crossed my arms over my chest to pull the arm straps down. She could tell me to strip but I could decide how slowly I wanted to reveal myself to her.
Dropping my bra on the pile of clothes already on the floor, I thrust my chest proudly forward toward her. I knew she liked my breasts. She would often come up to squeeze them or to pinch the nipples just to watch them pucker and strain into her palm.
My growing excitement and the coolness of the air now caused them to become tiny hard beads. I wondered if she had noticed yet, so I cupped one breast in each hand and pinched the tiny nipples so that they jutted out toward her more.
She noticed.
I heard her deep, low growl and knew I was pushing the limits of how far she would let me play this taunting game with her. I quickly moved my fingers down to the waistband of my lavender panties, edged them under the tight elastic and began slowly pushing them down the length of my thighs. This time I bent forward to cover as much of my body as possible, hoping to draw this delicious moment out for one more heartbeat.
I knew her gaze would be fixed on my now free-swinging pendulous breasts as they drew toward the floor. I finally stood up, stepped out of my panties, left them where they fell and allowed her to gaze on my now fully naked body.
I began walking toward her; her eyes were still on my rock-hard nipples. When I reached the bed I again placed my hand on the buttons of her jeans and began to pull them slowly open. She stood up so that I could drag them down to the floor without delay. Kneeling at her feet, I pulled her jeans completely off and before I had the chance to stand again she grabbed me by the back of my hair and tugged on it, hard enough to make my eyes water.
She growled, ‘You are mine, little one.’
As if I needed to be reminded.
As
