The thought of ten more hours struck me harder than the icy water splashing across my face.
Somehow two torturous weeks were nothing compared to the final moments of my confinement, I thought, staring down at the freshly scrubbed kitchen sink. Morning chores were near impossible after the night I'd had with barely a moment free from thoughts of Amy's perfect body. My mind tattooed with the image of flawless, tanned skin swallowing up a gleaming golden G-string.
My withered face reflected in the microwave door as I squinted at it's unfazed clock blinking back at me. I had been counting down the minutes till my father was getting home. Surely I'd earned some relief outside my plastic cage before then.
She thought she was helping me. And maybe she was? Maybe I had been doing the wrong thing all this time... Peeking at my own stepmother getting changed, sneaking a private moment with her high heels or her panties... How many times had I been hard as a rock with her in the room... She must've known. She must've felt so grossed out. Maybe she wasn't wrong to take that away from me.
"Pauly..."
Amy's voice sent shivers down my spine. I'd made it another whole week tending to every speck of dirt, every inch of laundry, even massaging her pretty feet at the end of each day. Almost the end of another week, almost the hundred points on her brutal scoring system. I couldn't mess it up now.
Cautiously, I skulked upstairs, running each morning chore through my mind. Nothing was missed, I was sure of it. I both resented her for taking away my freedom and wanted nothing more than for her to be happy. Her sweet round face to shoot me a kind smile of approval.
"In here Pauly," Amy called, not from her bedroom but mine.
"I cleaned up in there Amy, I knew you'd check!" I argued, hopefully.
Amy's formidable presence filled my spotless bedroom. She stood over my bed, blanket and duvet tossed to the side. Still in the baggy grey pyjamas I'd laid out for her the night before, she glared sternly at the middle of my fitted sheet, arms folded.
"What do you call this?" she asked, gesturing at a small dark patch on my sheet.
"That? I... ah... oh... maybe got a bit hot under the covers last night..."
Amy lifted the linen half off the mattress, tossing it in my direction.
"I think someone got a bit excited and left a sticky mess for me to find."
Feeling blood rush to my face and embarrassment hit me in the stomach, I searched for an explanation. My sleepless nights were haunted endlessly by Amy, but I dare not blame her for my mess.
"I'm sorry Amy, I'll clean it up, I promise... Please don't take away any points."
I glanced at the silver light shimmering off the key that dangled from Amy's anklet above her cute little foot. I'd worked so hard and now I'd let her down. It was her fault that this was so difficult but somehow I still felt guilty.
"No bud I won't be deducting any points... Your father will be home this evening and we can't have him knowing about any of this... You've done really well all week for your treat, but I won't have you getting away with leaving little accidents behind."
Even in baggy clothes, I couldn't stop myself from admiring her shape. Her grey shorts barely clinging to her hips. She inched closer, laying hands on my arms and looked up at me soothingly.
"I'm sorry Paul but you've earned yourself another little kick."
Air left my body as her words sunk in. She looked almost giddy the last time she did that. Instinctively, I placed my hands over my groin, twisting at my encased manhood.
"It's for both of us," she said softly, parting my hands. She stood closer still and cupped her hand between my legs making me jump.
"I hate to see you in pain, but you'll learn faster this way and then we can be done with this messy stage..." I lost myself in her big brown eyes, beaming with kind gentleness.
"I don't want to be under the same roof as any of that ugly stroking that boys do and there's not much point keeping you proper if you're making a sticky mess each night."
"I... I'm sorry Amy... I'll go clean the sheets... I won't do it again," I stammered.
"I know," she reassured, resting her head on my chest. Instinctively, I wrapped my arms around her shoulders, encasing her in a hug.
"We'll get your kicks done this evening bud. I think five should do it this time... Have the teaching heels polished by the end of the day." Amy headed for the door, starting for her bedroom before turning back.
"And perhaps you should get the ice pack into the freezer. You'll be quite sore tonight and it might help you sleep."
*****
All I had ever wanted was to feel empowered. My whole life I'd yearned to see the respect I deserved shining up to me from a man's eyes. Paul had given me that. He'd given me that for a long time now but the last two weeks to ourselves were like it had been... distilled. Every other distraction boiled away leaving only his syrupy adoration behind.
He might not have been one to show disrespect, but he was no stranger to sloppiness and a lack of discipline. That was before. The change in his demeanor hadn't gone unnoticed, I thought proudly, setting my anklet in the bathroom draw and heading toward the light. It was as though he'd finally learnt not to take any freedom for granted.
I breathed in morning air from my open bedroom window and turned to the golden glimmer on my dresser. I needed to know that I could trust him. He had learnt so much, but I couldn't be expected to keep an eye on him forever.
Fumbling with my messy black bun in the mirror, I thought back to the effort I used to put in for Paul a few weeks back. Such excitement whenever we were alone. Some expertly applied lip liner, a few strategic buttons undone. It reminded me of the first few months of dating someone new.
I'd earned the right to be comfortable. It's not like he isn't still getting an eyeful, I assured myself, thumbing through my underwear draw. If only he knew the excitement I felt back in those early days.
After pulling on my red and white panties, I tied my delicate key to the bow at the front and lifted the thick waistband above my hips, now hidden under my short grey pyjama shirt.
"The carrot and the whip..." I whispered to myself, admiring my reflection and glancing at the heels placed neatly by the closet.
I snatched them up, bounced out of the room and downstairs to check on Pauly's progress. It made me sad to think he could still get his jollies even when he was under lock and key. I knew he wouldn't want me to feel that way.
A trail of clothes and linen sprawled their way from the laundry to the living area where Paul was kneeling, a bottle of stein remover in one hand, his soiled sheets in the other. The morning light illuminated his innocent silhouette as I strode in confidently.
Tired zombie eyes scanned my half nude shape as I placed my heels on the lounge chair next to him and draped myself over the couch, giving me a nice view of his workspace on the floor.
His scrubs slowed as he nervously eyed the black shoes looming over him.
"Just ignore them buddy, stay focused on your sheets," I said with a kind smile.
My little heels cast a big symbolic shadow, I thought giddily. I was like a prison guard tapping his baton. Paul's rustling hastened again, his eyes peeling away from my heels. Déjà vu, I thought, looking distantly through the glass patio doors behind him.
"When I was your age, we had a dog that was always acting up... Ollie, we called him. Barking at the neighbors and stuff. My mom figured a few splashes of water in the face with a spray bottle and Ollie would learn to behave," my voice trailing off as I reminisced.
I fidgeted with the seam along my underwear, revealing the golden key beneath. Admiring the length the waistband added to my figure, I slowly traced my fingernails down my hip, my fingertips tracing back up again.
"It's all about positive and negative reinforcement, she used to tell me... Before too long, she didn't even need to use the spray bottle. She could just place it on the floor and he'd remember his place."
I watched Paul's focus shifting back to the heels next to him.
"It was the better part of a year before Ollie learned to be afraid of the bottle... I'm sure it won't take nearly that long for you to appreciate my teaching heels..."
