Stacy takes my hand and says, "Yes Ben, What do I do first?"
I enfold her into my arms and give her the warmest, most loving hug I've ever given anyone. "Thank you Stacy – Your trust is not misplaced and you will soon see the world as a lovely place to be. You first must call your employer and tell him whatever lie you wish to get the next 7 days off."
She is startled, "Ben, do you know how impossible that is?"
I stop her immediately. "Strict obedience, or there will be a punishment. Do you understand?"
She says with a smile on her face, "You wouldn't punish me! What'cha gonna do?"
I smile and say to her, "I thought we might start off this way." I give her another hug and whisper in her ear, "Stacy, for the next 7 days I will punish you and you will not enjoy it, I promise. You need to learn about control." And As I said this, I gently pull her arms together behind her and quickly bind her wrist with a plastic restraint the police use instead of handcuffs. I ask her, "This is your last chance, are you OK with this and are you going to obey me?"
She gives me an unsure "Yes."
I ask, "Do I need to gag you, or will you scream?"
Stacy says, "I promise not to scream. OK, just don't hurt me."
I laugh, "Stacy, there may be some pain involved in the next 7 days, but it will be a sweet sort of pain and I will never hurt you out of malice. I promise. Now to our punishment."
"Forgive me" I say as I gently begin to unbutton to top portion of her dress. The dress will, of course, not come off with her hands bound behind her, so I carefully grab my pocket knife and slit her dress up the arms on both sides to the neck so it drops in a heap at the floor. Next I do the same with the bra. I notice her blush and whimper as I begin. "What's wrong? Surely you've expose your wonderful breasts to more than one man in your life?"
"It's not that" she pleads. "It is..." As the bra drops, I see a prosthetic in the right cup. "...hideous" she finishes as I gaze upon her full perky left breast and then a shriveled and scared irregularly shaped breast with a normal perky nipple along the edge of a scar.
I see her start to sniffle at her shame. I hold her head up and look deep into her eyes. "Stacy, there is no need for this. You survived! And you are beautiful! Unique one might say!" I bend down to cup it and kiss the nipple. It stiffens in response. I ask, "How much feeling do you still have?"
She says, "Not much. The nipple can feel things but it's not the same. How can you even touch it? I hate it!"