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Far Quiet
"Are you
*sure* you understand, baby?"
He was about to say,
"Mmgffh," but he thought better of it and merely nodded his head
once more.
"That's a good baby,"
she said as she gave him a kiss on the cheek.
-=o=-
It had started the way
it so often did. With a fantasy his Mistress had devised and just
sprang on him out of the blue. He did not know that she had purchased
a new toy and wanted to try it out.
She had told him that
until she decided otherwise, they would play that he would never,
ever again ask her for sex. He would never give the slightest hint,
the least whimper. If he did, punishment would be swift and severe.
They were standing facing
one another in the room, he looking down slightly at his Mistress.
If physical considerations meant anything, he could have overpowered
her in a nanosecond. But brute force had no meaning or applicability
whatever; such was totally ineffective before her mental power.
Mistress controlled everything.
The other thing she
had told him was that she was fed up with his continued babbling:
terms of endearment without permission during his loving service
to her and, it seemed, his general level of chit-chat most all the
time. She did not want to hear any more about it, any of it, not
one single word, she wanted quiet and did he understand that?
"Yes, Ma'am," he had
said. And, at the time, he had no idea what saying those two words
to his Mistress would cost him.
She told him to go flop
on the couch and read his book, and he turned and did that. He opened
the book to some page at random and pretended to read, but he could
not keep his mind on what he was supposed to be doing. He kept stealing
little glances at her hoping she would not notice. And the little
glances that he stole turned shortly into one long stare of amazement
as she sat down in their comfortable armchair and began to toy with
her ample breasts.
He had no idea whether
the book in his hand was the latest Tom Clancy thriller or The Medicine
Show from Consumer Reports.
She was licking her
lips seductively and slowly unbuttoning her blouse and, he thought,
she must have been teasing him, doing it for him. He never knew
for sure, of course, he could never tell what was going on in his
Mistress' mind. It was just the way she had decided it would be
between them, right from the start of their relationship.
But, regardless of what
she intended and irrespective of what he thought, his cock had its
own ideas. And it began to grow. He moved his hand to his crotch
to rearrange things to a more comfortable position but his eyes
were riveted on her. His Mistress. The most beautiful woman in the
world and goddess of his life.
She saw he was not paying
any attention whatever to his book and told him to go to their bedroom
and put on some pretty things to wear. He scrambled off the couch
and disappeared. A short time later he was back wearing his favorite
baby doll nightie.
The thing about baby
dolls is that they are designed, of course, for a woman and typically
they come down to just below her crotch to offer, almost-but-not-quite,
an erotic view of her pussy. And it takes such very little movement
to expose that heavenly part of her body, but normally it is just
barely out of sight, almost available to any horny sub who might
be blessed with being in the same room as her. Almost available,
but not quite. Just a little out of sight but with the tantalizing
possibility of coming into view at any moment.
The trunk of a man's
body is longer, and on him a baby doll might look silly. Especially
if the hem came down to just below the waistband of his silky nylon
briefs, with his garter belt and nylons completing the picture and,
taken all together, framing his straining erection, that tent in
his panties trying to burst free.
It might look silly
or it might look terribly erotic, depending on how a mistress might
choose to view it. So often these things are a matter of personal
taste. Of course, any mistress smart enough to look past the particular
props and focus instead on the effect on her sub, and how she might
take advantage of that to guide the interaction between them, would
most likely be the perfect mistress.
In this particular instance,
Mistress' taste was that he be wearing his high-heeled sandals as
well, so she could see that his soft pink nail polish had been properly
applied to his toenails. There were few things that annoyed her
more than a sloppy sub.
As she would expect,
he stood before her and executed a perfect curtsy. She smiled approvingly
and gazed at his body for a moment. He was looking at her also.
While he was gone she had removed her blouse, skirt, slip, pantyhose
and heels and she was curled up comfortably in the armchair clad
only in her delightfully full bra and her sexy panties.
His cock twitched uncontrollably
in its silken prison but he knew he dare not do anything about that
under penalty of severe punishment.
"Baby, get Mistress
your wrist cuffs from the toy box," she said. And he was about to
say "Yes, Ma'am," but he stopped himself in time. He did not realize
that he had already committed his infraction and that when Mistress
said she wanted total quiet what this meant was that Mistress wanted
total quiet.
He returned with the
wrist cuffs and she promptly secured his wrists behind him. Little
her. Feminine her. He towered over her because he was in heels and
she in her bare feet. But his physical power meant nothing.
To demonstrate that
she told him to kneel. She was a gentle Mistress so she helped him
down and thoughtfully put a cushion beneath his knees. Or, perhaps
she was just being practical about it and intended that he should
be there for a long, long time.
Then she opened a brown
paper bag and took out her new toy. It was one of those leather
gags with the bright red ball, and she secured it in the way it
was intended about her blabbermouth sub.
She was kneeling next
to him, stroking his hard-on through his silky panties and she said,
"Dear, I told you I did not want to hear anything more from you.
I thought I made it quite clear. When Mistress has decided that
Mistress will have quiet, she will have it. And then you go and
spoil everything by saying 'Yes, Ma'am.' Do you understand why you
are going to be punished, sweetness?"
Fright gripped him momentarily
and, even if he had not been gagged he was at a loss for words.
He nodded his head.
"Are you *sure* you
understand, baby?"
He was about to say,
"Mmgffh," but he thought better of it and merely nodded his head
once more.
"That's a good baby,"
she said as she gave him a kiss on the cheek, stopped playing with
his cock through the silky panties he was wearing and turned her
attention to removing his gag. "Because it is the first time I have
told you about absolute quiet, I will not punish you severely this
time and also that is why I am removing your new gag. Knowing you,
we will have plenty of use for it later. This time Mistress will
let your uncontrollable urges determine your punishment. You will
simply not be allowed to come, that's all. Do you understand, darling?"
He nodded his head again.
She stood before him,
waiting.
He knew his duty. He
strained forward to take her panties gently in his teeth and began
to work them slowly, agonizingly slowly, over her full hips and
down her beautiful body. It was so difficult to move on his knees
with his wrists secured behind him, and it took him three trips
around her body before the silky fabric lay at her feet. But each
time he came around to her front, close to her pussy, she comforted
him by cuddling his face gently against her wetness and she stroked
his hair for a minute. And then he would continue with another circuit.
She was so good to him.
Then she rearranged
the cushion for his knees and she sat down. He moved slowly. As
fast as he could but slowly. Over to her inviting, spread legs.
Onto the cushion for his knees.
He brought his face
to that wonderful aroma, to the scent that was her. And he kissed
her.
And as he began to serve
her she said, "That's a good baby," and she began to stroke his
hair.
And from that point
on the CIA could have had bugs planted all over that room but would
not have been able to hear a single word. Because none was spoken.
Total quiet. The way
Mistress had intended.
Well, not exactly total
quiet. There was a little moan now and then and, if one turned the
electronic eavesdropping volume controls up all the way, one might
have heard heavy breathing.
-=o=-
He is thinking that
he must go to the library and read up on mental telepathy so he
can figure out how to let his mistress know that he would like her
permission to post to their favorite newsgroup, a.s.fd.
Snowflake Anchorage,
Alaska May 10, 1995
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