Dark Eyes part 1
Pat Annon © 2020
Dark inescapable eyes, I fought the need to look away. I failed. I could not endure her eyes close upon me. I knelt and found the cold comfort of the floor. Head down, her presence enveloped me.
"Why are you here in my way?"
"To serve you, Mistress, in any way that pleases you." I kept my head to the floor. I daren't look up.
"This is tiresome. I am no interested in micromanaging your life. Go sit in the closet until you know what to do. That's it, be off with you now."
I didn't know at all what to do, what she wanted, what I am somehow supposed to intuit, "Yes, Ma'am." I kept my head low and crawled off toward the hall closet.
"No! Not that one! The broom closet, under the stair. I don't want to see or hear from you until you know what to do."
I looked up. Her long finger pointed at a small door under the stair. She has just returned from her morning run. Her sissy maid let me in. I waited for her in the hall as he instructed. I did everything as instructed. I arrived on time. I waited in the hall. I got on my knees when she entered. Now I am crawling to the closet.
The broom closet was just that, a small space with barely enough space for the upright vacuum. Only 4 feet high, I couldn't stand and there was not enough space to sit. I picked up the vacuum and held it on my knees as I folded myself into the space. With effort I wedged my fingers under the door for leverage; I finally succeeded in getting the door closed. I heard it latch before I realized the was no opener from the inside.
Dark and trapped, unsure what to do, all I wanted was to experience wearing her collar, to be punished at her hand. I had these fantasies. Seeing her I thought all my fantasies might come true. I wanted to have her do all those twisted things I've read about and seen in porn: women who are dominant, who make men suffer at their hands. I wanted her to do those things to me.
But now I am in this closet. I have no idea what she wants, and she won't tell me. I leaned against the back wall; the vacuum heavy on my knees. This is not what I want. I want her to do what I want.
God, it must have been an hour. I can't stretch, or even move very much. My butt hurts. I can lift myself off my tail for a while, but my thighs begin to burn with the stress. And now I really need to pee. She said she didn't want to hear me. I don't know what to do.
Another hour and I won't survive. She is going to let me die in here. I have to urinate. I can't make a mess in her house. What am I going to do? My neck is killing me.
I met her at the farmer's market last week. She had a young man in tow. I mean, she had a young man on a leash clipped to a leather collar on his neck in tow. She was amazing, regal, imperious, yet so friendly. She spoke to me.
I remember her words exactly, "Ah, I see you like what you see." She held the leash out as if I might take it. I could not take my eyes off it. I imagined the collar on my own neck. I imagined following her; watching her hips as she walked. I swallowed.
