oops! ...

this is the point where you realize that maybe, Her first suggestion of playing a friendly game of checkers might of been a better idea.



hmmmm ... i wonder what an arrow in the gut feels like?

the vinegar spill

"fishface, Get Me some vinegar for My salad."

i had just prepared a fresh salad of new Spring greens with egg slices for my Mistress.

"is apple vinegar ok?" i asked.

She threw back Her cascade of penetrating black hair and then without missing a beat continued to issue orders.

"Yes, and make sure it is in one of those little cups?" "Understood?"

"certainly, Mistress." i timidly spoke.

reaching into the cabinet i pulled out a small monkey cup and filled it sufficiently with apple cider vinegar.

"And water, now please." i moved quickly to keep up with Her pace.

i am not sure why, but i do crave and adore to be ordered about. Her voice seems to morph and changes. it becomes more abrupt, resolute, crisp, sharp and cutting. it is almost as if something else within Her bubbles up to the surface and proceeds to take complete charge over me.

i was starting to enjoy the rhythm and tempo of Her commands.

suddenly i heard Her speak matter of factly ... "Hmmmmm ... shit. i spilled some of the vinegar on the table and the chair."

"Clean it up, now." i stopped what i was doing and reached for a paper towel. sopping up the vinegar on the table - top, She continued to direct me.

"no, over there, silly.
and there," ... She pointed with Her long index finger to the arm of the chair.

and finally pointing, ... She paused ... "it ... also ran ... down ... my ... foot."

"her foot?!" ... i quivered and trembled for a moment.

it seemed to have been ages since i had been allowed to touch Her magnificent, beautiful, strong, high arched feet.
about a jillion thoughts ran willy, nilly through my head.

"now, how do i go about wiping the oil off Her feet?"
my mind began to race through scenarios.
"I could dob and pat them down?"

"nah ...
i could ....
i should just ..."
maybe, if i was quick and efficient ...
then, perhaps She wouldn't mind?

the pause passed as slowly as a hearse making a wide turn then suddenly lurching to a halt.
in my mind i blurted it out, over the nodes of common sense.

"just lick them off as fast as you can, so She doesn't notice!"
... ARE YOU FUCKING CRAZY ... ARE YOU A SIMPLE MINDED MORON?!?" i continued to have this tethered conversation inside myself.

"that would be HIGHLY disrespectful!
just wait and see what She says,"

i decided to wait just a smidge to see if She would suggest anything, but She was busy eating Her salad.

reluctantly, i realized that nothing was going to happen. i picked up the clean paper towel and proceeded to wipe the vinegar off Her amazing foot.

"Now, don't forget my ankle too. it spilled and dripped down there also." She spoke firmly.

i dabbed at Her ankle and wiped it down.

i'm not sure if She knew this was a huge dilemma for me.

all i know is that while performing this task, wave after wave of submissive karma splashed over me as i wiped down Her beautiful foot.

and that's, pretty, damn pathetic? ... huh?

whippppppppppped!

coming home from work, i had thought hard and long all day about what would be the best way to serve the needs of my Mistress. i very much desired to be of service to Her since She had revealed to me that things were a bit tight for Her financially this past month. proceeding upstairs i grabbed the envelope with my birthday money. "yes", i thought. "this is the right thing to do." my heart pounded as i plodded downstairs and, then quickly gave the 5 20s to Her.

"i have thought about this Mistress and i want to give something to You to help out with Your expenses this month." i looked down, clutching the envelope, unsure as to how She would receive my offer.

She plucked the money out from my hands and then looked coyly at me with unmatched satisfaction.

"This is your birthday money, isn't it?" i watched as She fondled the bills. it felt like an eternity as She burned holes through me with Her smoldering gaze.

i shyly said, ... "yes, it is Mistress."

there was a bit of a pause ...

then She laughed and said,

"Wow, you are sooooooooo whipped, aren't you?"

cowering in the shadows of the hallway, i looked sheepishly down.

i couldn't say anything, for i knew She was right.

"Fucking awesome." She teased.

then, without missing a beat, She then issued another order.

"Now, go find Me a pair of socks to wear."

"And be quick about it. W/we need to get going."

a glass of wine and a bit of smashing and thrashing ...

it had been a long day, but for the most part a fairly successful one. the project that i had been working on seemed to have been a triumph. what was even better, was the fact that my Mistress accepted the invitation to view the unveiling and seemed to enjoy meeting my friends and colleagues whom had worked with me on the project. as W/we drove home from a late dinner, She suggested that i stop off at a package store and pick-up some wine so W/we may toast my success officially. i agreed, even though B/both of U/us had already drank a sufficient quantity of alcohol at dinner. the wine seemed to be a good way to unwind, and i always enjoyed drinking and sharing with Her.

my Mistress says that alcohol drunk in excessive quantities seems to amplify the feelings and emotions of the person at the time. it almost has the effect of a truth serum when imbibed with abandon. W/we both were feeling pretty good. the wine was taking it's effect, and suddenly my Mistress started to feel jumpy and seemed a little punchy. i felt quite submissive to Her and took my place beneath Her sneakered feet. She grabbed a large handful of my hair and yanked it hard two or three times. had i not drank the entire bottle of wine, this would of been quite painful, but the wine had anesthetized the pain centers of my brain, and i felt little, if anything, except a numbing pleasure. She shook my head hard and slammed my forehead into the chair arm, then patted my cheek. i already felt a large swelling beginning to form around the point of impact, but this did not deter my Mistress. She continued to bludgeon my forehead with the chair's arm and moved Her sneakered foot on-top of my hand and began to bear down on my thumb and fingers and rubbed them raw with the treads of Her sneakers. Now, this did not hurt, but for some reason it frightened me intensely. as a performing artist, i use my hands daily. breaking the bones in them was not something that i was ready to submit willingly to my Mistress. after all, She had constantly been after my hands for quite sometime now. delighting in hitting them with Her power cords, or stepping on them intentionally. quite aware that with just the right amount of pressure and force, She could certainly crush the delicate bones and break them. this would be horrifying for me, and would seriously cripple and hinder my profession and career. yet, like a moth that is drawn to the flame i acquiesced to her cooing and prodding. She gazed at me intently and beckoned with Her eyes to place my hand under the sole of Her New Balance sneakers. i did so willingly, looked longingly into the static mirrors of Her eyes and then grimaced as She bore down with Her weighted legs upon my trapped hand. not satisfied with a mere contorted look of pain, She smiled with devilish intent and smashed the ball of Her sneakered foot into my sinewy and veiny skin, pushing and grinding the hard biting rubber and chewing through my pale, male, flaccid flesh. i felt Her foot then come down hard and locked tight over the joint of my index finger and thumb. as She applied more pressure, i watched as my hand took on a hideous distorted shape as if it was being chopped up and swallowed whole by the ever aggressive treads of Her sneaker. i felt helpless and trapped, unable to fidget or move. i heard Her sigh with characteristic, caustic, satisfaction. it was not a sigh of fulfillment, but rather of hunger; hunger for the sound of popping tendons and snapping bones. it was a sound which was deep guttural and primal. a sound which identified Her as predator and me as the prey. i struggled to move my hand, but it was locked fast and finally as She ground Her foot in deeper, i cried out, as the pain was becoming to intense to bear. my hand felt as if it was being ripped in two.

i writhed in agony and cried out, "alright, i submit my hands to You Mistress, my hands are Yours and they belong to You, exclusively!"

"I know that. She said almost matter of factly,... But, I do so want more from you tonight."

repositioning Herself in the kitchen chair i watched furtively as She snaked one of Her strong muscular legs out towards me. then with whip like precision She kicked hard and landed the sole of Her sneakered foot into the side of my cheek. moving Her foot back and forth She played with my head as if it were a soccer ball, balancing my chin with the tip of Her toe, then kicking up hard and smashing my face into the side of the refrigerator. Once my head returned, i felt Her jam and bear down with significant strength against the side of my neck with those biting treads. grinding and cutting with razor like finesse until the side of my neck had been rubbed red and raw with broken blood vessels peeking intermittently through my tattered thin skin. the wine had sufficiently deadened much of my pain centers, and my Mistress delighted in clobbering the side of my face with Her foot and bouncing my forehead off the metal casing of O/our refrigerator. yanking on my hair, i caught a brief glimpse of the pleasure which was glowing on Her face. at the start of each pummel and well placed kick She would appear to snarl and glower, but then after hearing my sounds of duress, Her face would morph into absolute pleasure and joy. i am not sure as to how much this went on, as W/we both were for the most part wasted, but after the 8th or 9th time, suddenly it stopped.

She released my hand, admired Her work and said, "good luck explaining that tomorrow." my hand, as well as my neck appeared as if someone had taken a cheese grater to my skin. a bruise was also forming nicely on my thumb and index finger from Her rough play. a slight bulge from Her bludgeoning was again forming on my forehead. luckily, nothing was broken, or sprained. whew!

pouting a little, She then smiled evilly and said,

"Mmmmmmmm ... maybe next time, pet." She teased me.
"Maybe next time."

"Now, pour Me a little more wine and you should get to bed."

i did as i was told, like the good obedient pet that i am.