Chapter 7: Slipping up

As soon as I got up, I sent a quick note to the stranger asking him permission to masturbate on Wednesday. I had had real difficulties falling asleep the night before, and I didn't intend to forget once again. I thought the stranger was likely to allow it this time, since I had washed his socks punctually and I had sent him that embarrassing description of it all, so I expected he would reply saying yes, or simply not reply at all.

I went through the day half awake. I had slept too little, even if I had at last managed to get some uninterrupted downtime, and it showed. I wasn't able to keep my focus during lectures, and I found myself daydreaming and simply out of it. Given how worked up I had got on the previous night, it was inevitable that my daydreams all too often related to my fantasies, and to that hoped for time when I'd at last be allowed to do what I was so used to doing every night, without asking anyone nor even thinking about it much. A few of my acquaintances started realising and joked about it with me, thinking I had gone out the night before. If only! Not that I was going to explain to them what exactly had ketp me awake.

At lunch time, I took a good amount of tea, hoping to wake up a bit and get something out of the afternoon, but it didn't work as well as I expected. I went back to my lectures, felt the minutes pass painfully slowly, and at last finished the day. I went home, and wondered what to have for dinner. Right as I was going to cook some instant noodles, lacking energy for more elaborate stuff, Ron came into the common room. He looked a lot more rested than I did, and he felt like cooking, so I let him and thought that, at last, something was going well. While he cooked, I tried to keep him some company and we had a little conversation, although I was aware I wasn't exactly at my best. He had been looking into joining some sport club, and had in the end made his mind to play football with a team he had heard of. They'd be playing at least once a week, and maybe more if they found the time. Probably all Wednesdays. I kept making polite noises, until Ron realised I wasn't exactly engaged.

"You seem tired today", he said. "How are things going? Any news on the Clara front?"

"I slept like shit last night. I'm sure lectures today were a total waste for me, I was hardly able to keep awake." I tried to keep the disappointment out of my voice. "Nothing from Clara yet, hopefully she will call me soon. Though I guess today wouldn't be such a good day for it either, given how useless I'm feeling."

"Heh, you really should have got her number yourself. That way you wouldn't be waiting like this."

"Well, that would have been a good idea, yes." I was feeling rather disheartened about this, I was tired, and my friend was there, so I decided to confide in him a bit more than I had. "Actually, she didn't want to give me her number, I did try to get it. She said that she didn't feel comfortable with that yet."

"What? Are you sure she's not just playing you around?" He sounded genuinely puzzled. "You didn't get into a lot of detail, but I understand you, well ... scored."

"You could put it that way", I chuckled. "That's what freaked her out a bit, I think, how fast it all went. Sounds to me like she's not quite used to meeting a random guy and sleeping with him the first night. Hell, not like I'm any more used to that than she is, if I'm honest about it."

"Well, cheer up! My girlfriend may get to be your matchmaker yet!" His smile did cheer me up, even if the prospect didn't much appeal to me.

"How are things with Lisa then? Anything interesting to report?"

"Not much news. She wants to go out tomorrow, but I'm supposed to play football. Maybe we'll go out to that pub nearby, after dinner. I guess I'll be too tired to go out dancing."

"Well, I'm thinking of going to bed already." I looked at my wotch, and saw it was only 07:30. "Although if I sleep now, who knows when I'll wake up. Probably in the middle of the night." A yawn escaped my lips. "It's a good thing..." I caught myself in time before i said I had no urgent things to do.

"Yes?"

"It's a good thing that Clara's not coming tonight", I improvised. "I wouldn't be that much fun like this."

"Well, I suppose it depends on how she likes having her fun. I can think of a number of things she could do."

"So can I, but I'd rather not", I snorted. "Anyway, I guess I'll be going then."

"Do the wash first, I cooked today."

I looked at the dishes, tried to convey my tiredness to Ron, which either didn't notice or didn't care, and made my way towards the sink.

I got to my room, got ready for bed, an decided to check my mail and find out if I had been sent anything by the stranger. Somehow, at that time, I had the impression that there would be no problem at all: that this application to masturbate stuff was just a little humilliating ritual he was making me go through, to rub his power in, but that it would not affect my life all that much. That's why I was so surprised when I got his mail.

From: Your Lord and Master
To: little worthless footboy
Subject: I don't think so.

It's good you're learning your place, but you're clearly a slow student. Notice I blame it on your stupidity, and not on any rebellious notion, because we both know what a doormat you are: there's nothing you want more than serving me and pleasing me, and avoiding my ways to express my displeasure. Moreover, a rebellion would have some sort of purpose, whereas what you've done gains you nothing and in fact only makes it obvious that I need to make it clear for you the consequences of disobedience will be progressively more unpleasant, and hopefully that will make of you a more applied learner.

Do you remember that first e-mail I sent you? Do you remember what had just happened the night before you got it? Do you remember this line?

"In addition, you'll check your e-mail every day. You'll send me an e-mail every day, telling me how much you've thought about my feet."

How thoughtless of you! I can't believe you haven't thought of my feet trampling your snout today. I suspect you simply forgot to let me know about it, and that was very, very naughty. Just as naughty as if you indeed didn't think of my feet, pig. Do you think you deserve a reward for this? Do you think I would be a good master letting you behave in such a dumb and irrational way?

If you're as dumb as you've been behaving, perhaps you don't yet know this night is going to be another wonderful memory. You'll remember those punishments with fondness after you're properly tamed, I assure you. You'll probably beg me to punish you for nostalgia's sake, even after you're made into a good toe sucker. Unfortunately tonight is not going to be fun at all, no matter how it will appear to your future self.

Simple instructions, which even a lapdog like you can grasp: you'll wear your blindfold which I so kindly left with you. You will kneel against the wall, and place a chair behind you, its back against yours. You will leave the door unlocked: if someone decides to check on you, well, that will be a learning experience, won't it? You will wait like that until I decide it's time for me to take a more personal interest in your teaching: maybe I'll arrive around 1, maybe around 6. Ah, and of course, you will be naked, and you will gag yourself with your own socks this time.

If you disappoint me again I will conclude you're too stupid to profitably enslave and I'll just spread about what a dumb foot licking pig you are. I didn't think you'd be so silly I'd have to be making threats at this stage, but your previous idiocy has disappointed me indeed. Get to it, boy.

I was completely shocked by the e-mail. I was also scared, regretful about having forgotten my obligations, and getting more and more excited. I was certain I would not enjoy my punishment, and yet there was something which felt right about surrendering to master, and making amends for my silliness. He was completely right: I had meant nothing by not sending him the daily prayer, it was simply that it wasn't yet a habit and lack of sleep had made me distracted. I would unfortunately pay for it that night.

Without any further delay, not wanting to incur any more punishment than I already had, and suspecting I was being observed, I took off my night clothes, which I had already put on, looked for my dirty socks, and after a while I managed to make a decent gag with them. I don't know why I tried to make sure that the gag was effective. If anything, I should have done the opposite, but something inside me wanted to follow those instructions scrupulously. I rationalised that I was just making sure that I complied properly to avoid any further pain. Then I knelt by the wall, naked and gagged, and managed to drag my chair behind me. That had been a kindness of a sort: the chair helped me keep the position as I waited for master to come.

Simply waiting there, kneeling on the floor, blindfolded and gagged, tasting my own feet and feeling the rough carpet as the seconds passed slowly, not knowing how much long I'd have to keep in that uncomfortable position, was unnerving and unpleasant. Every little sound in the flat startled me, and I half hoped, half dreaded, the stranger would at last make his entrance. That, on top of the irrational fear of being caught like this by another flatmate, unlikely as it was that anyone would decide to get into my room at night. My mind started considering the most unlikely circumstances, and what could happen if they occurred: what if there was a fire alarm, or a thief got into the flat, or ... anything.

In the midst of being scared and ashamed and impatient and half a dozen more emotions than I could comfortably ffeel, I kept getting more and more excited. There was nothing at all I could do about it either: trying to think about what the stranger had done to me before, trying to get angry at him and his arbitrary rules didn't help. I was kneeling and sucking on my dirty socks because someone said so, because someone told me to send him daily e-mails with thoughts about his feet, and I had failed to obey. Because I was becoming someone's toy. That line of thinking was only making things worse.