As I walk to her office, I can feel the butterflies in my stomach. She's never mixed business with pleasure before.
I knock gentle and hear her soft voice from inside, "Enter."
"Good day Miss. How are you?" I greet her with a kiss on the cheek.
"I'm good my lovely, how are you?" She smiles softly looking up at me from her desk. I have never been in here before. It's a smart, tidy office. Pops of colour. It represents her perfectly.
"I'm better now, Miss." I reply, returning her smile. I can see her blush a little.
"Did you do as I asked little one?" Her smile quickly transformed into a smirk and I nod quickly before looking at the ground hiding my own rosy cheeks.
"Such a good boy for me, hey? Would you like to know why you are here?" Her voice has changed. She sends shivers through my body. I can feel my heart racing.
"Yes please Miss, very much so."
"I have a task for you," she stands at her desk and begins to walk around it, speaking slowly, softly, making sure I concentrate on every word, "You're going to write me a little essay. A beautiful piece about how you show your submission to me in your everyday life. There is a one thousand word minimum. I will be checking it for mistakes, both spelling and grammar. I expect your very best handwriting too. Do I make myself clear?"
She stops at the front of her desk, leaning against it. She looks immaculate. Her hair is pinned in a tight bun high on her head, soft makeup, ruby red lipstick. Her pencil skirt hugging those hips and a crisp white shirt finishing the look. She knows what she's doing that's for certain.
"Yes Miss, crystal."
"Good boy. I'd like you to take a seat please." She gestures towards a small desk in front of her own and pulls out a chair for me. I sit facing away from her desk and shuffle forward. She lays an A4 pad of lined paper and a pretty pen on the desk before setting down a small timer. Ninety minutes preset on it.
"Are you ready little one?" She places a hand on my back rubbing in small circles and I feel myself relax.
"Yes, thank you Miss. I'm ready to complete this task for you."
"Very well, let's begin." She starts the timer and disappears behind me. I hear her take a seat at her desk.
Ok, so...how do I show my submission to Miss in my everyday life? That's a good question. Where do I start?
As I sit staring at the paper and start to wonder what she's doing behind me. I can't look, it's too obvious. Is she still working? Is she watching me? I've got butterflies.
Before I realise, ten minutes have passed and I haven't written a single word. I panic and pick up the pen. Time to make notes. I cook, I clean. There must be more...
I can hear her rustling papers behind me...come on focus!
Ok so I tidy, I call her Miss whenever I can...
I could have sworn that sounded like a zip...
Right, so I do the food shopping, I don't use certain words...
I hear her chair scrape against the floor and lift my head. I hear her heels on the floor as she gets closer. She stops right behind me.
"Doesn't look like that word count is going to well there sweetheart, are you distracted?" She says in a sugary sweet voice right next to my ear.
"I-I'm sorry Miss, I am working on it." I rush, flustered, twenty minutes already gone.
She kisses my neck tenderly and I feel my breathing quicken. Her fingertips touch the back of my neck and she soon changes to her nails, trailing them down my spine. I let out a little gasp. Fingertips on the back of my neck again, now nails through my hair and I can't help but lean into them.
"Come on now, focus for me sugar." She walks away and I can feel myself throbbing for her. I need to concentrate. OK, so I show my submission by...
I begin to structure my essay. Introduction, two sections complete and then I hear her chair again... forty minutes have passed by now.
She whispers into my ear, "Well done baby, look at you go." I blush and try to continue writing but as I do, I feel something tickle the back of my arm and jerk it out the way.
"Concentrate cutie, time's a'ticking!" She giggles waving a feather tickler at me.
I turn back to my writing and try to get back into my flow but before I can, I feel the feathers tickling my neck. I bite my tongue determined not to react. I tell myself to keep writing. Just keep writing.
She moves the feathers to the back of my ear and involuntarily I shake to stop the tickle. It's too much to take. She giggles again, I can't help but smile when I hear it.
I hear her footsteps as she walks around the table in front of me trailing the tickler down my forearm and over my papers. She bends over my desk and puts the handle of the tickler under my chin forcing me to look at her.
"Let me look at my good boy, such a handsome boy. I'm such a lucky girl. Aren't I?"
