Chapter 10

Zoe

Once again sleep was elusive. But this time I didn't mind. This time I had so many nice images on my mind and for once no questions surfaced, or at least no questions that worried me or needed to be answered immediately. Time and again my fingers touched the chain, as if to make sure it still was where it belonged, time and again I clenched my pussy around Ann's fingers inside me, as if to make sure they still let me feel that I was hers.

I thought of how the petite girl had danced around me, her movements like water running over smooth rocks, graceful and fluid as she kissed me on the cheek, her remark somewhat cryptic, as was the note from Dee. It seemed as if everybody knew more than I did. For once that hadn't bothered me, though, for once I had managed to switch off the analytical part of my brain and just enjoyed the moment.

I hadn't even cared too much if I had done it right, like when I had waited before joining Ann on the sofa, or when I had knelt, had just done what I had thought would be appropriate to do. What would be appropriate behaviour for a submissive.

Submissive, submissive, submissive. The word turned around in my head...

Well, and if what I had done wasn't right, Ann would have told me. But it seemed as if it was ok, at least she never said otherwise. So that was all fine.

Other things were much, much, much more than just fine. The chain, for example. I had stood wide-eyed, felt my heart beating faster, my pussy getting wet, as Ann had locked it around me, had loved it immediately, even when a tiny voice had said that "Zoe - Mine forever - Mistress Ann" seemed a bit ... fast, too early. After all, forever is a long time. But then I pushed that thought aside and asked whether always was indeed always, feeling the chain dangle against my sex as I looked down, thinking that maybe I shouldn't buy nicer underwear after all but instead go without panties at all, wear more skirts instead of tight jeans, so I could feel it.

The look in Ann's eyes as I had asked her to leave the chain around my waist. That look had been way beyond 'just fine' too.

Or the pictures. They looked much better than I had imagined. Nothing pornographic about them. OK, I hadn't expected that they would. But still, I had been a bit worried I might not like them, might not like how I looked in them, or even worse, might not like what Ann saw. But they were really nice, although I still felt myself blushing and being more than only a bit embarrassed while looking at them. Or maybe I was embarrassed because I liked them.

But I think I got a glimpse of what Ann had seen. Or rather, what she saw when she looked at me. In some of those pics I looked how I had felt: At ease, content, relaxed. Happy.

I blushed some more and giggled when I found myself reaching for my butt when we came to those pictures she took after she had whipped me. That was when I had slid off the sofa and onto my knees and Ann had closed her fingers around my ponytail and gently tugged on it, once again letting me feel that I was hers. I looked up at her as she looked down at me and it was right, felt just right. For both of us, we both knew that without a word.

And so I lay in bed. At ease, content, relaxed. Happy. Even when there was turmoil in my head. I knew that slowly, step by step, Ann would guide me on that path we had started on and I would follow her. Slowly, step by step, I would learn what I needed to learn. And slowly, step by step, our trust would grow, as would our love.

One question came up the next morning, though. Not when I woke up, though, for once again I had woken up to the feeling of Ann's fingers inside me and this time I had started to move my hips while still half asleep, fucking myself for a minute or two, until she had pulled them out teasingly, brought them up to my mouth and watched me as I had licked my wetness from her fingers.

A long, passionate kiss followed, Ann gathering my hair in a firm grip, pulling on it while I still clung to her lips, the pulling on my hair increasing continuously until I reluctantly had let go of her lips but hadn't stopped kissing, kept kissing all the time as she had directed me down her body towards her pussy that had been already waiting, wet and hot, smelling and tasting of lust and passion.

No, no questions had come up then. Everything had been crystal clear: She was my Mistress, I was her girl.

The question only came up when we were both getting ready to leave for work. I packed a couple of apples into my bag and didn't see my notepad. It took me a while until I remembered that I had taken it out in the gallery, but I couldn't imagine that I hadn't put it back. I never forget about my notepad. In the end I shrugged, thinking that wherever it was, it would resurface sooner or later, and if it didn't someone would have a nice time trying to decipher my scribblings. And if they weren't a mathematician they wouldn't understand much anyway, even if they managed to read it. It would be a minor nuisance if it was lost, everything that was important for my work was saved on my hard disk and back-upped twice.

I don't think I'll ever forget the sparkling in her eyes as I called Ann Mistress for the first time ever. And somehow it was just as well that I didn't say it in an intimate moment but on the sidewalk as we kissed good-bye for the day. It kinda felt as if it was more serious like this, as if it counted for more when I said it in my everyday clothes standing on the tarmac, instead of saying it while kneeling naked at her feet. Don't know, really, but that's how it felt.

And so we parted for the day, I took the image of her blazing eyes with me, felt the chain beneath the skirt touching me, thought how it would feel while on the bike, except that I could forget about using it for yet another four weeks and then I thought that sooner or later I probably should discuss logistics and lodgings with Ann. It didn't make much sense to pay a sleazy landowner way too much for a lousy tiny flat I never visited except to pick up fresh underwear. I'd rather pay Ann that money. But maybe that was too soon. Still, it was something that had to be addressed sooner or later.

"If it makes you happy, it can't be that bad," I heard Sheryl Crowe sing out of a car as I walked past. A young woman drummed the beat on the steering wheel and returned my smile.

"She's wrong," I thought, walking on, "good old Sheryl's wrong. If it makes me that happy, it can't be just not that bad. If it makes me that happy, it's got to be good. Perfect, even."

Ann

"Mistress"

Just the look in her eyes at that moment would have been enough to ignite my heart. One simple word, spoken willingly, unprompted, aloud in the street, that word spoken honestly, it's meaning clearly understood, that made so many things worthwhile, things that happened before my auburn haired beauty walked into my dreams, into my life. Emerald eyes looking at me, seeing the sparkle in my own eyes. For a moment nothing mattered, past, present or future, for a moment there was nothing but the word, spoken on willing lips, my girl, my love, my life.

We kissed our good-bye. Zoe standing close, pressing herself against me, tilting her head back, long hair hanging free, begging to be held, gripped tight, pulled. "Enjoy your day sweetheart."

"You too ... Mistress." That word again, this time spoken with a hint of devilment, anticipating the effect, her smile edging towards a secret grin.

"Come to the studio afterwards, there are some things we need to do..." I winked, "slave." The word spoken softly, half muffled as our lips met for one last burning kiss, enough to last us both throughout the day. As Zoe turned away my eyes were drawn to her ass, such a perfect ass, my hand was drawn there too, just a light spank, no more than a playful tap, exactly where the crop had landed.

Walking to the studio gave me time to adjust, thoughts of emerald eyes warming my heart as my mind switched to the day ahead. Just as the martial arts are as much a philosophy as a form of unarmed combat, so to is the D/s lifestyle. Learning to dominate, to become a Mistress taught me as much about myself and how to live my life as it did about the art of control, the balance of pleasure and pain, the symbiotic relationship of Mistress and slave. One of the lessons that I applied to my work as well as to life was never to go anywhere my mind had not already been. "Think first, act second."

Entering the gallery I was greeted by the smell of fresh brewed coffee and the sight of a slightly dishevelled Dee. Whilst her style of dress is occasionally a little questionable, Dee always looks fresh and bright, no matter the hour or the circumstances and she hates the coffee machine. Moving closer I could see the counter was in utter disarray, the computer flanked not by her own laptop, but by two, along with papers notes and the usual detritus created by intense creativity.

The sound of the door chime had very obviously caught Dee by surprise, a gasp and a stifled "Oh sh..." as she scrambled to tidy the chaos whilst moving to both greet me and place herself between me and her mess. "Good morning." Her cheery tone betrayed by tiredness. "O evil one ... I'm ... it ... she ... oh hell, I'm guilty, do your worst, but please, before that, let the printer finish..." Her voice trailed off, her manner showing a side of her rarely seen. That was more of a concern than a little mess easily cleared before opening time.

Whatever it was that had Dee so absorbed it seemed the printer would explain. Walking down the corridor on the way to the office the smell of fresh coffee grew more intense. Normally I prefer EG but since Zoe had entered my life her preference for coffee had made the smell a daily feature. I smiled at the thought of my auburn haired beauty as I detoured into the kitchen area and helped myself to a mug, sipping it as I continued on to the office, putting aside Dee's antics as I concentrated on dealing with the mundane minutiae of my work.

Later, having completed the boring but necessary I stretched, looked at the clock, late morning, time to see just what had Dee acting so out of character.

I found Dee in the kitchen area, the coffee on and ready. "Thank you Dee, I'd love a coffee." Ok, so maybe I should have warned her first, or maybe just thrown a bucket of ice-water at her, the effect would have been less dramatic. The mug hit the floor and the contents did a fair impression of "Old Faithful", erupting gyser-like to cascade coffee everywhere.

She stood frozen for a second, then thawed, dripping coffee, "so it's true love." When she turned away she seemed to deflate, tired, stressed, coffee splattered. It was time she went home. Her back to me she busied herself pouring two more mugs before turning to face me again, holding out one of the mugs, her left hand holding her right wrist, her head up but eyes downcast. "I ... I'm sorry, I'll clean it up, I..."

"Dee, just go home, you obviously need sleep, just drop everything and go." Dee smiled at my choice of words, then her body tensed.

"Please, let me stay, I nee ... want to, please?" Again Dee was acting out of character. "I have, I've done ... For Zoe, for you..." Her words disjointed, the dark rings under her eyes suddenly more pronounced.

"Very well, go chose something to wear from the make-up room, then get yourself a shower and sleep, you can use the bed in the dungeon." I smiled, "I'll wake you later, when Zoe arrives. Go now, or go home." Dee nodded her head, then walked from the room, leaving me with a fresh disaster area and fresh coffee. I opted to clean first, whilst the mug cooled a little, deep in thought.

I could of course have simply checked the print room. That however would feel like cheating, devaluing Dee's efforts, so instead I carried my coffee through to the studio and spent the afternoon there, a change of pace, not a busy afternoon, but enough. Including a courier who arrived for an urgent collection, nothing I was aware of until I checked the storeroom where we keep the packing materials and wrap pictures for shipping, there sat an impressive pile of boxes, the forms complete, Dee had been a busy girl.

Zoe arrived just as I was dealing with the last customer of the day. I returned her cheery greeting, her eyes showing surprise that I was doing Dee's job. "She's asleep in the studio," I spoke quietly, watching the customer wavering between two prints seemingly unable to decide. "I promised to wake her when you arrived." Just then the customer reached a decision and Zoe stepped away.

The customer had another change of mind and it took a while before I solved the problem by selling him both pictures. Zoe had disappeared, presumably in the direction of coffee. Having locked up I headed for the kitchen, only as I walked down the corridor, Zoe burst out of the print room, smiling, tears in her eyes, calling my name, actually screaming my name.

Catching my girl in my arms I held her, kissed her to end the scream and lost myself in her feel, her scent, the kiss deepening as she melted in my embrace. It took a while, but reluctantly I began to break the kiss, reaching up with one hand, grasping her hair tightly, pulling her lips from mine. "What exactly is going on young lady?"

Zoe

"She has whipped me!" I glanced around me to make sure nobody was listening in.

"Really? Wow! You go girl! How was it?" Karin didn't need to ask whether I had liked it or not, that much she could easily deduct from the tone of my voice.

"Silly question. It hurt, of course. What did you think?"

"Yeah, right, smartass! I can guarantee you that it will hurt much more if you don't immediately tell! Me! Everything!"

"Hehe, empty threats. I'll like it and just ask for more." But I was comfortable with telling her and so I told her everything that had happened since we'd last been on the phone. Really everything. Not only because I knew she wanted to know and was genuinely interested, but because during our conversation I felt how talking about the last couple of days helped me to understand what was happening to me. Not in some therapeutic kind of way, though, it wasn't that anything was wrong, after all. But everything had happened so fast that I needed to replay it once again and putting it into words and saying them out loud was different to reflecting on it in bed. Especially since Ann's fingers inside me felt too good to keep my mind focused.

I caught myself touching my lower belly to feel the chain beneath the skirt when I told Karin about it.

"A chain? With the end of it brushing against your vulva? I hope you're up and walking around now, hihihi."

"Yes, actually I am on my way to her." Maybe I should also get a couple of woolen stockings instead of the pantyhose to wear beneath the skirt, I thought. Shouldn't waste the opportunity to feel the chain on my bare skin as much as possible.