Chapter 22

Liz recovers, my thirty days of waiting starts, and it’s my turn.

Our pizza came, and while I took my sweet time adding a tip and signing the credit card slip, the girl that delivered it was mesmerized by the entire scenario displayed on the table before her. When Liz came over to take the pizza box, she let go of her robe, and it opened, revealing a five-inch wide strip of skin from her neck to her landing strip. Watching the driver stumble down the sidewalk to where she parked her car, I closed the door and giggled hysterically.

As we ate, we talked about how we felt, and Liz repeated her statement that she would never do this again, this meaning to be submissive in a BDSM environment. Afterward, I packaged up all the implements of pain and pleasure in three boxes and carried them to the spare bedroom. Before I moved all the furniture back to where they were yesterday, I hauled the mattress to my backyard and made a mental note to order a new one. After I put the furniture back where Liz had rearranged everything when she moved in, my two new chairs fit nicely on either side of the loveseat. In the future, they will make great conversation pieces. Finally, I mopped and sprayed a can of air freshener in the living room and guest bathroom.

We were in bed by nine, and while we didn’t make love, we snuggled and touched and whispered, bringing us closer together than yesterday.

March passed by so quickly that it felt like I fell asleep on the first of the month and awoke on the thirty-first. I allowed myself a smidgen of hope that Liz would forgo her turn to be a dominatrix, but throughout the month, she spent a lot of time locked in the spare bedroom, and the strange looks she gave me made me very nervous. I did buy her a gift, several sets of furniture coasters so that she could rearrange the furniture by herself with minimal effort. Our sex life was awkward until the 28th when she cut me off by sleeping in the spare bedroom. I didn’t question her because I didn’t want to indicate my nervousness.

Dad called me on March 30th, “Hey, Marty, guess what?”

“Hi, Dad, what’s up in the great Metropolis of Greenville, South Carolina?”

“I lost the coin toss to your Uncle, so I am calling to inform you that we’ve traded you to Elon Musk at SpaceX for two Tesla Model Ss and two strippers who are secretaries during the day. So when you graduate, head west to Hawthorne for your new job as Elon’s chauffeur.”

“Damn, Dad, did you check into the hospital and find your funny bone? I already talked to Elon, and he told me he’s going to buy your company and make me your boss.”

“Just kidding, Marty, but I wanted to tell you that Mom’s new home is finished, paid for, and I’m going to surprise her Saturday afternoon by taking her to see it. Larry and his girlfriend are going to follow your mom as she walks through the house for the first time, filming her reaction and comments with digital cameras and then creating a documentary.”

“Dad, I can see the headlines now, ‘Fifteen-year-old hacker and daughter of a CIA ghost created movie that was judged Best Short Film at the Caan Film Festival. Starring a Greenville, South Carolina Grande Dame, who shall remain nameless, this film shows her touring her new mansion, built by a guilted husband and funded by;’ how much did the house cost, anyway. I’ve still got some papers to finish, and I need to study for the last exams I’ll ever take.”

We talked about a paper written and published in a science fiction magazine advocating building a new space shuttle. Dad and I both felt doing that would waste time and energy. We said goodbye, and I went to tell Liz that we officially had a place to move to while we made plans to build our dream house.

Liz didn’t speak to me on the evening of the thirty-first, and I was tempted to hide out in a church. But after dinner, I took a shower and was in bed by nine, reading a book. I finally relaxed enough to fall asleep and slept until five fifty-five, when I awoke on my side and took a peek around the bedroom. Usually, I do number one and number two when I wake up in the morning, But there wasn’t enough time to get up and go to the bathroom, and I felt rather than heard the bedroom door opening, so I froze. I thought I heard footsteps going around the bed and standing over me. Bless me, father, for I have sinned.

BWAAAAAM.

An air horn of some kind blew out my eardrum, and even though I was expecting something outrageous to happen, I jumped up into a sitting position.

“GET UP, YOU MISERABLE SLAVE! Get down on your knees in front of your Mistress. Bend over and place your forehead on your hands, palms flat on the floor, thumb to thumb and index finger to index finger.”

Liz sounded very intimidating as I quickly complied, dropping to my knees and placing my hands under my forehead. Before I went face down, I saw Liz dressed in black from neck to toes in vinyl or leather that was skintight on her body. Her curly hair was wrapped around her face, and the eye shadow and mascara were dark and made her look evil. While on my knees, I could see she was wearing black pumps with obscenely high heels.

“This is first position, you slimy worm. My name is Mistress, and your name is whatever I decide to call you. Just because you took it easy on your mistress when it was your turn, do not expect mercy from me. Now, you worthless slug, raise your torso upright, remaining on your knees, and place your palms face up on your thighs, bowing your head. This is the second position.”

Eye-firm-a-tive, my Captain. Liz was enjoying this way too much.

“Get on your hands and knees and hurry into the living room as fast as possible. I will be right behind you, whipping your ass.”

I took off quickly, surprising Liz, and I was through the doorway and heading down the hall before I felt the first sting on my butt. As I reached the living room, I could see the dining room table was almost in the same place where I had placed it. To my left was some kind of structure covered with black vinyl or leather, but I didn’t dare turn my head to look. I stopped crawling when I reached the center of the table and received two more hits on my ass cheeks with the whip.

“You think you’re a smart ass, don’t you? I shall enjoy every scream that comes out of your mouth. Stand up and put on that harness next to you on the table. And be quick about it, or I’ll take that paddle and lay a few hard ones on your ass.”

I was ready for this because I had visited Wicked Grounds last weekend and observed how a harness very similar to the one in my hand went on a manikin’s body. There were five straps, an inch and a half wide, connected to a 3-inch steel ring. Two straps went over my shoulders, two more went under both arms, and the fifth strap went down to my groin. All five connect to a 3-inch steel circle on my back. The strap to my groin connected to a ring around the base of my cock and balls. It continued to another steel ring centered over my asshole before being attached to the ring on my back. Still, I had it on in less than a minute, tightened up, and fitting nicely. I had a problem with the color of the harness; it was pink.

Liz smacked my butt and growled, “Second position slug.”

I dropped to my knees like she told me to do and waited. She held a pink dog collar with ‘Mary T’ stamped into the leather and put it around my neck. I took the spelling to be a dig at the spelling of my name. She attached a pink leash to the collar, placed the end between my teeth, and told me, “Bite down dipshit.” I stood still, staring straight ahead, trying to hear what she was doing.

I didn’t have long to wait before she stood before me, holding something silver and curved at the end. Holy crap, it’s a male chastity cage. She made me stand and slid it over my soft prick before hooking it over the ring around my cock and balls.

“You are a female doggie now, and I will treat you like a bitch.”

I hope she has a key.

Now she led me through a string of humiliating tasks beginning with eating dog kibbles from a doggy dish with no hands. The initial mouthful almost grossed me out until I started to chew and discovered it didn’t taste bad enough to make me sick. So I closed my eyes and ate all my breakfast.

She praised me like a dog and patted me on my head, “Good doggy, Mary T; the bitch ate all of its breakfast. Let’s get you something to drink.”