This short story is an entry in the 2001 Soc.Sexuality.Spanking Summer Short Story Contest and is copyright by the author and commercial use is prohibited without permission. Personal/private copies are permitted only if complete including the copyright notice. The author would appreciate your comments
Category: Adult
Brought to Heel
By
Rose Blush <cat2yourmouse@MailAndNews.com>
One...Two...
My footsteps echoed in the stairwell. I took each step slowly and deliberately, enjoying the ominous sound my high heels made against the hardwood. It was always the same: twelve steps up, then eight more down the hall, twenty in all.
Three...Four...
I smiled a secret smile, imagining what those footsteps must sound like to him. Remembering how, as a child, I used to hate that sound.
Five...Six...
He was waiting for me in his bedroom. No doubt he was counting my steps, dreading my arrival.
Seven...Eight...
Each step an individual warning. Each resounding clap of shoe against wood a subtle hint of what was to come.
Nine...Ten...
My straight skirt tugged against my thighs. I imagined his thrill of fear as my footsteps drew nearer. My own heart beat faster in response; a cloud of apprehension descended. A vicarious attack of nerves made my hands tremble.
Eleven...Twelve...
It was always like this, just before. Always a certain jitteriness tempered my firm resolve. He could never fear me the way I feared myself.
Thirteen...Fourteen...
Not until afterwards would my predatory nature be allowed to take over completely. Only when the deed was done and the last cry wrung from him would I feel safe surrendering to that side of myself. When his tears had been dried, his burning skin soothed, his lips kissed, then he would sniffle and smile his own secret smile. Then the fear and guilt would dissipate, and I could let myself go.
Fifteen...Sixteen...
Then with a click I would cautiously unlock the tiger's cage. Lead her by her diamond-studded collar out into the fields to romp. Scratch behind her massive ears. Watch her stretch and roll and flex her six-inch claws. And finally, unleash her and watch her run. A catch in my throat, I would marvel at her terrifying strength as she sailed through the air, legs pumping furiously. An orange streak shooting thirty miles an hour through the tall yellow grass. Magnificent animal! Surely she was a creature of God, evidence of His infinite might and grace, doing what she was born to do. An innocent killer.
Seventeen...Eighteen...
Eventually she would return home, sated. I would pat her heaving sides and feel the powerful vibration as she purred. Good girl, good girl.
Nineteen...Twenty...
Then I would feel pure pleasure, unalloyed and undisguised.
The End
© Copyright Summer, 2001
Reviews
Wailer <wailer(at)newsguy(dot)com>
This one built slowly but strongly. A kitty that you play with at your own risk! Of course, the click of heels on wooden floors has always been one of my hot buttons, so it had an extra appeal <shiver>.
Frank <sswitcher(at)yahoo(dot)com>
I was fascinated by the changing mental pictures that arise as one proceeds into this story. At first, we are not sure what we have on our hands. A sub or a domme? Then the image that emerges is one of this rather austere top or domme with a tight skirt and noisy shoes. Finally we find that beneath that controlled and somewhat frosty exterior lies a very different animal, full of powerful passion and sensuality. How cruel, that this wonderful beast must remain caged most of the time!
Kent Stoneking <kentls001(at)worldnet(dot)att(dot)net>
I have to admit, when I first opened this story and saw it was F/M, I cringed ... /M isn't my kink. But the portion dealing with the spankee's apprehension as the spanking neared (and what the spanker did to enhance that apprehension) is universal, something we can all appreciate.
I'm presuming the description of the tiger is an allegory for the spanker's spirit after the spanking has finished, and her activities ... if it's a real tiger, then I fear for the spankee!
All in all, a well-written, highly evocative story.