I flicked back through the preceding pages in Anya's diary, looking over what she'd written about Teresa. "You are going to need to tell me more about Teresa, my dear."
"Yes, Sir."
"But... not right now. Right now, we need to decide on some humiliation for Anya. Something degrading, and electrifyingly exciting. Something unforgettable."
"Yes, Sir." She beamed at me as she spoke.
I paused. I knew what I had in mind. But I was going to make Anya wait. I wasn't going to tell her... not yet. Not until I needed to. I smiled back at her—a knowing smile. "Put on some clothes. A pair of jeans and a nice tight T-shirt. Oh—and those sandals that you were wearing yesterday."
"Yes, Sir."
"You won't need anything else."
I put my clothes on too, and we left her room—she handed me the key as we left. Though it was a Sunday morning, we were lucky enough to catch a bus into town without waiting too long. We went upstairs and sat at the front of the bus. The bus driver gave Anya a bit of a funny look—probably because of the collar, though perhaps also because of the way her nipples pushed against the fabric of her T-shirt. Anya sat next to the window, and I sat next to her. I immediately put my hand on her thigh and slowly stroked her leg through her jeans. She gave a little moan of contentment as she felt my hand. My hand slid further up her thigh and in between her legs—soon I was running her pussy and feeling its heat right through her jeans.
When we got to the park, we got off the bus and took a stroll. There are large rhododendron bushes in the park just a few feet from the paths. There are many secluded spots in the park as the paths wend their ways between the big rhododendrons. Perhaps because it was a Sunday morning, there weren't all that many people in the park; Anya and I spent most of our time without seeing anyone else. We found a bench next to the path and I sat down on it. "Kneel down next to me, my dear." I said. Anya knelt down without hesitation. If anyone walked past right now, Anya's pose would be unmistakably subservient. Anya looked up at me and smiled. "How do you feel?" I asked.
"Excited, Sir."
"I thought you might," I replied.
A middle-aged woman came into view, walking her dog (a dachshund); she frowned when she saw us, and went immediately to Anya.
"Are you all right, young lady?"
Anya looked to me and saw my almost imperceptible nod, before turning to the woman, "Yes, thank you—I am fine."
"Have you lost something?"
"No, not at all."
"Then why are you kneeling?
"Because I am doing as I was told."
At this, her eyes widened and she looked to me. I held her stare and smiled. "She is very good at doing as she is told."
Now the woman's eyebrows were raised to. "Is that so?" She said.
"Certainly."
"No matter what she is told to do?"
I smiled, "As long as it is me doing the telling. Isn't that right Anya?"
"Yes," She paused a moment, "Sir."
I smiled at Anya and then at the woman. She was, I suppose, flabbergasted by what she was witnessing.
"So, if you told her to kiss your feet, or... I don't know. Take off her clothes, she'd do it?"
"Yes, she would. And yes, she has."
"And what's in it for her?"
