To say that my Mistress was angry would be quite an understatement.
At the end of the school day I returned to our home. Mistress Polly greeted me with a question, "How did your evening with Amanda go, my pet?" (see "Class Time - Ch. 02").
As I was trying to decide how to answer, I walked close to her and knelt down so that I could kiss her foot as I usually do in greeting her. This simple act of worship always thrills me, giving me a chance to express my gratitude and love for her. But her trained eye noticed the awkwardness of my movements, so different from my characteristic grace.
She allowed me to kiss her foot, but then said quietly, "Stand up, pet, and remove your clothing. Let me see you."
I did as I was told, but could not prevent myself from wincing as I eased myself out of my garments. For some unfathomable reason, I could not look her in the eyes as I revealed my body. Therefore, I did not see her expression but I did hear a sharp intake of breath from her as my battered, bruised flesh came into view.
"This is how Amanda returns the gift that I gave her? I specifically instructed that you should be returned undamaged!"
Knowing that was not a question that she actually wished me to answer, I stood silently as she walked around me, touching me gently and inspecting the extent of the damage. Finally, she asked, "What exactly did Amanda do to you to cause this?"
"Most of what you see is probably due to the harsh flogging that she gave me, Mistress. She seemed to go into a sort of frenzy, striking very viciously."
I still could not meet her eyes, but I felt my body trembling with emotion as I recalled those moments.
"So when Amanda went out of control, why did you not use your safeword?" Mistress asked, quite reasonably.
"I was gagged and suspended, Mistress. She and I had not agreed upon either a safeword or a signal for any emergencies," I replied, hearing my voice starting to break.
Inexplicably, I began thinking that perhaps what had occurred was in some way my fault. Perhaps because I am a teacher, and that was a 'training' session for Miss Amanda. Maybe I should have immediately started discussing safewords when were in the car driving to Miss Amanda's house. But she was in control of me; was it my place to correct her, or in any way tell her what to do? And yet she is young and inexperienced, and I have more knowledge than she; maybe it was indeed up to me. My mind was whirling with confusion.
My Mistress may have sensed my thoughts, because with an apologetic tone of voice she said, "Oh my dear pet. I feel that I have failed you. I completely misjudged Amanda's readiness, and put you in a dangerous situation. I should have been there, observing and directing. I will try to make it up to you. Come with me."
With that, she led me to the bathroom. She removed her own clothing, rather than commanding that I do it. My heart accelerated, as it always does when my Mistress becomes nude in my presence.
She is several inches taller than me, and my aches, pains and stiffness did not detract one bit from my appreciation of her body as she revealed it. My eyes drank in the sight of her cascade of honey-brown hair, her sensuous mouth, and her eyes that are such a beautiful blue when she is pleased, and that mysteriously transform to a piercing green when she is angry. And her neck -- the safest place in the world for me, when she allows me to nestle there.
As she shrugged off her upper clothing, my mouth watered as her generous breasts came into view. I longed to run my fingertips from their pale bases up to their dark rose colored peaks. Her belly is another place I love to worship, pressing my lips against her flesh there, tasting her, inhaling her scent, rubbing my cheeks against her warm softness.
As her remaining clothing pooled at her feet, my eyes were drawn to her neatly trimmed bush of honey gold pubic hair, so curly and downy and soft to the touch, as well I know. Next they traveled the wondrous journey down her shapely thighs and legs, all the way to her dainty toes. I am sure this display was part of my therapy.
Turning to the shower, she treated my to a lovely view of her buttocks as she adjusted the water temperature. Either she was being extra careful to get it exactly right, or she was giving me extra time to admire those pert cheeks that I love so much to service in any manner she requires.
Carefully, she helped me to get under the spray. Joined me. Took the soap and lathered me. Shampooed my hair.
Under her gentle ministrations, the protective knots and spasms that had formed in my muscles began to melt. When she could, she held me against her, cradling and cuddling me under the soothing spray. This display of her love and caring touched me so deeply that I began quietly crying. Crying with happiness. My tears were washed away by the flow of the water, but I was certain my Mistress was aware of my emotions.
"Are you feeling better now, my dear pet?" she whispered into my ear. Her intimate tone invited me to snuggle closer, my head cradled against her neck, her bush gently brushing my buttocks with each of her breaths.
"Yes, Mistress. Your cherished cunt girl feels infinitely better now", I answered, turning my head and gazing once again into her lovely eyes, which were now a glittering blue.
"Good. I am very pleased to hear that." A smile broke out on her lips. "Now for the ultimate test. Does my cunt girl feel good enough to cum?"
I felt my heart skip a beat. Both of us pressed together naked; of course I felt good enough. "Yes, Mistress", I replied, reinforcing my answer with vigorous nodding.
"Why did I know that would be your response?" she said with a laugh. "Very well. I give you permission to cum; you do not have to beg this time."
My back was pressed against her front, with my head cradled between her neck and her left shoulder. Both of her arms embraced me. Her left arm encircled my torso at the level of my breasts, her left hand caressing them into ecstasy. Her right arm came around my right flank, and her right hand slipped through the folds of my labia, her fingers stroking my vaginal tunnel, while her thumb toyed expertly with my very sensitive clit.
Having such tenderness rained upon me by this woman that I love and serve quickly brought me to my orgasmic peak. I tried to hold back. I wanted this moment -- this pleasure -- to last as long as possible. My excitement climbed higher and higher, until I stood at a dizzying height of arousal. My energy could no longer be contained in the restrictive confines of my body. It blasted loose, channeling itself outward between my quivering thighs, carrying with it a copious amount of my nectar, propelled by my rippling vaginal muscles.
