But clothes pegs on the nipples? Electric shocks? Polyamorousness (if that’s a word)? Some of this stuff jets way out of my comfort zone. In his email he said: “Take what you find interesting or appealing and we will discuss it. If, conversely, there is anything you find unacceptable, we will also discuss it.” I’m not sure what he means by that. Sinclair’s version of discussion would not make it into the dictionary, I think; it tends to consist of, “I want to do it, so we’ll do it”. I’m absolutely not going there with knives or breath play though, so he can discuss off.
Eleven o’clock comes.
“You didn’t wear knickers today, did you, Beth?”
“No, sir.”
“You wouldn’t lie to me, would you?”
“Of course not, sir!”
“Have you disobeyed me at all since Saturday?”
Silence.
“Well?” His tone now is sharp, a touch of wrath creeping in. “Have you?”
I know I can’t see his piercing stare, but I can imagine it, so I avoid looking at the screen when I reply. “Well…I did change my skirt…on the train. I couldn’t get off wearing school uniform!”
“I see,” he says icily. “Direct defiance of an order, Beth. That will have to be addressed. I think I’ll have to keep a list for my return.”
I bite my lip. “I’m sorry,” I offer.
“Have you kept all the other rules?”
“Oh, yes, sir,” I say eagerly. “I told you I played tennis with Caitlin earlier, didn’t I? I’m doing all that.”
“Hm. Do you know what I’d do if I had you here now?”
“No, sir.” I’d quite like to, though.
“I’d make you stand in front of me and strip, then I’d have you over my knee and spank you until you begged for mercy, and then I’d spank you twice as hard for twice as long. And you needn’t think I’d go easy on your cane marks either. How are they, by the way?”
“Oh, they’re fine,” I blurt, somewhat turned on and also amused by the way he asks after them as if they are a family member. “That is, still pretty uncomfortable.”
“Good. Show me.”
I lift my nightdress for the ritual bum inspection, hunkering down so my stripes are optimally presented.
“Shame they fade so soon,” he comments. “I’d make the most of that peachy skin, Beth, because believe me, the next time we meet it will be a uniform shade of deep red. What do you think of that?”
“Uh…I think…you should do whatever you think is appropriate, sir.”
“I like your thinking, Beth. Now turn to face me, kneeling with your knees as far apart as you can get them. No, keep the nightdress up. In fact, take it off. It will only get in the way.”
I wrestle the thing over my head and kneel expectantly before the screen, my face flushed and heart bumping with love and excitement. I love technology.
“I’d bet good money that you are wet between the legs. Touch yourself and show me your finger.”
I do so, though I doubt the webcam is able to pick up the telltale glisten on its tip.
“Thought so.” He’s guessing. But he guesses well. “You liked what I said about our next meeting, didn’t you?”
My love-flush turns into embarrassed heat. “Perhaps,” I say coyly.
“I beg your pardon?”
“Sorry, sir. I mean, yes, sir.”