Charlotte didn't answer, she just lay there snoozing.
*
Part II -- Major Lift
Poor Mistress was in bad shape. I think this little Jeremy incident may have shaken her up more than it did me. She thought I hadn't heard what she said, that I was sound asleep, but I had listened to every word -- and it scared me. Mistress had been my anchor for the past five years of my life. Because of her, I was able to finish up my undergraduate program and go on to pursue an advanced degree while exploring my passion for music.
And there were other passions we explored together as well. Oh god, yes! Mistress had awakened my sexuality in a way I had never suspected was possible. The things she could do to me with just a word, or a touch. If someone had told me during my senior year of high school that I would be voted most likely to end up as a kinky lesbian submissive, I would have said you've definitely got the wrong girl. But now I was being trained to be the queen of kink, by my very own Mistress. And I loved it!
Except Mistress had called it off this morning -- well, put it on hold. I was disappointed to be sure, but what worried me more was how Mistress had changed. In the span of only a few hours, the strong, confident, take charge woman I had grown to know and love had shriveled and withdrawn. She no longer had the strength to be my anchor, she had been cast adrift on a sea of shame and self-doubt.
I hated seeing her like this. I needed my mistress back, so I started outlining a plan for a rescue.
I went upstairs to draw a nice hot bath and led Mistress up the stairs when it was ready. I wondered if she was checking out my ass like she usually did on the stairs. Somehow I doubted it. I helped her get undressed and into the tub while I gently set to work with the washcloth. I was really hoping the bath would relax her, loosen her up a little. I even massaged her shoulders. When we were done, all I got was a rather unenthusiastic thank-you as I wrapped her up in her robe. Not even a kiss, or a fondle, just a simple thank-you.
That night I made Mistress one of my signature salads for dinner, the one with the seared tuna, pickled ginger, and sesame dressing that she's always raving about. She barely touched it before pushing it aside and shuffling her way over to the couch to sit in front of the TV. I don't think she even knew what program she was watching. It's like she was on auto-pilot.
After cleaning up dinner, I went to our room and shimmied out of my clothes before digging around in the closet for one of my play collars. I found the one I was looking for, the black leather one with the sturdy stainless steel ring, along with the matching wrist and ankle cuffs. I looked like I had just stepped out of a Billy Idol video as I passed by the mirror -- well, a naked Billy Idol video anyway. This was definitely not subtle, but then I needed something a little bold right now. I had a plan.
As I made my way into the living room, I could see that Mistress had not moved. I said nothing, just walked over and knelt by her side. She glanced in my direction, but barely acknowledged my presence. Jeez, this was going to be harder than I thought. I figured my attire made a pretty strong statement of, "I'm yours, take me now," but I was getting no reaction. I prepared myself for a long night as I knelt at her feet, knees shoulder width apart, palms resting on my thighs, sticking my ass and chest out, just like she taught me. I was determined to get her to notice. I needed my mistress back, damn it!
This little ritual went on for the next several days. When I wasn't caring for my mistress's basic needs, I was kneeling by her side with my eyes downcast, waiting for her to acknowledge me. But she just spent her days steeped in a deep funk of what I could only imagine was some intense self-loathing. Time ticked by very slowly for me, and my knees were sore from the constant kneeling, but I was not about to give up. Well my mind wasn't giving up, anyway. Eventually, I think it was Thursday afternoon, my body decided it had been through enough and I fell forward, head on the couch, sound asleep.
I awoke to the feeling of Mistress's fingers gently stroking my hair and the sound of her voice. She was singing. It was a down-tempo rendition of the chorus to Rockabye. Not the children's lullaby, but the Clean Bandit song with Sean Paul and Anne-Marie. Mistress didn't quite have the vocal delivery of Anne-Marie, but I didn't care. She was singing to me. And even though the words from her lips told me not to cry, I couldn't help myself. Tears of joy were streaking my cheeks. My mistress was back!
I watched her get up off the couch and hold her hand out to me. My knees were complaining loudly, but her steady arm was helping to take my weight as I stood. "Oh, Charlotte," she confessed, holding me to her chest, "I've been so stupid." That was all she said, but at least she was communicating again. I just laid my head on her shoulder, happy that she appeared to have finally served out her sentence of self-imposed isolation.
"I'm going out for a quick run to get my head straight," she whispered. And then, pulling my hair back sharply to expose my neck, she continued, "When I get back, I expect you to be upstairs by the bed, blindfolded, and ready for me." She punctuated her command with a long, slow lick from my collar to my ear before nipping my earlobe and turning to go. Oh yes, Mistress was definitely back!
"Yes, Mistress." I smiled.
"Oh, and Charlotte, I do hope you're prepared for what I have in mind for you," she added, as she made a circle out of her finger and thumb and then pushed her other hand through the circle to give me a little wave. I nearly passed out.
"It's been a while since we've done that!" I thought with some trepidation, "I hope I can give her what she wants." No doubt I would. The first time, and every time since, she was always exceedingly gentle and patient with me. Mistress might talk tough, but she would never intentionally give me more than I could handle.
I quickly made my way upstairs. I didn't need to get undressed, but I wanted to give myself a quick sponge bath first, just in case Mistress wanted to lick me -- well -- down there. I wanted to be as appetizing as I could for her.
I finished up and made my way to the foot of the bed. I was just about to kneel when I remembered the blindfold. Crap! I trotted over to Mistress's office to look for it. Luckily, I found it in her desk drawer, the same one that held the ruler. That was something I hadn't encountered in a long time and I began to wonder if I might get a taste of it on my skin now that training was back in session. I put the thought out of my mind and concentrated on the task at hand.
Back in the bedroom, I took the kneeling position near the foot of the bed and tied the blindfold over my eyes. I felt butterflies turning little circles in my belly as I waited for Mistress to return. I didn't have to wait long. When I heard the door open downstairs, I knew she was home. I quickly modified my posture, increasing the distance that my thighs were spread, and placing my hands behind my neck so that I was completely exposed, just like she had taught me.
"Oh Charlotte," I heard Mistress say, "you look absolutely delicious. I certainly hope you don't mind me a little sweaty, because I don't think I want to waste time with a shower before I have you. What do you think about that?"
"Oh yes, Mistress, you should definitely take me now. I'm ready for you."
"Oh, I'd say you've been ready for a few days. You think I didn't notice you strutting around in your collar and cuffs? Just because I was too preoccupied to take advantage of your temptation doesn't mean I didn't appreciate it."
I smiled, taking pleasure in her complement.
Judging by the ever-changing location of her voice, I guessed that she was making a slow circle around me, inspecting me. The thought of her eyeing my body like a prize to be taken was already making me moist. As Mistress's fingernail grazed my cheek, I felt an involuntary shudder course through my body.
"Cold, Charlotte?"
"Needy, Mistress."
"Well, at least you're honest. As long as we're being honest with each other, you should know that I plan on ravaging your body into the middle of next week."
"Ohh," I swooned. And with that, Mistress scooped me up off the floor and held me to her chest while I wrapped my legs around her waist. I forget sometimes just how strong she is. I felt my moisture increasing in appreciation of the way she lifted me up so effortlessly. "Oh, Mistress."
I buried my head in her shoulder and began exploring her with my tongue while she cupped my ass in her hands. The sheen of sweat on her skin was tangy and salty. It tasted like Mistress, and I couldn't get enough of it. I lapped greedily at the length of her neck as she adjusted the position of her hand to rub a finger against my opening.
"Charlotte, you're dripping," she said with amazement.
"Oh yes, Mistress, you have that effect on me."
"Then this next part should be easy for you," Mistress said as she threw me onto the bed and quickly plunged two fingers inside me.
"Mmph!" I let escape, more out of surprise than discomfort. Normally she starts with one and works her way up, but apparently she was needy too.
"Thank you for putting up with my shit, Charlotte," she whispered, as I felt her tongue gliding over my throat, "I love you, and I'm sorry for what I put you through."
"Oh, Mistress," I cooed. I could feel that her self-assurance had returned in the way she kissed me. She kissed me with confidence and feeling. I felt the fire re-igniting in my belly as she pressed a third finger inside me. "Ohhh," I moaned.
"Too much?"
"No, just let me get used to it," I said as I squeezed on her fingers.
"More please," I heaved. Mistress obliged me with a forth finger and had her thumb tucked in and ready to go. I was absolutely dripping. I hadn't been touched in days and I needed it bad. "Fill me up, Mistress," I begged. "Please."
"Are you sure, baby?"
"Yes, Mistress. Fuck me now!"
"Such language Charlotte. You must really be desperate."
