Washing the floor ...

Wren

Flaccid Member
Oct 16, 2006
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Walking home from class is a lot easier when I know she's waiting for me there. It's a pretty good distance from Social Sciences to Campus Village, almost a full mile, but something just puts a spring in my step. That something is probably the leather collar I have locked around her neck, the black lacey boyshorts panties I make her wear under the short backless maidskirt, the black sheer bra, and the starched white shirtcuffs. She calls it the maidslut uniform, and she loves it.

When I came in she stood up and came over to me, put her arms around me and kissed me. I decided quickly not to let her settle in, and put a finger on her lips before she could say hi. She smiled in understanding at the order and giggled when I picked her up under the hips and carried her over my shoulder into the kitchen, then spun around and set her down on her feet, tickling her.

I leaned back against the counter and looked at her, biting my lip and crossing my arms. She preened her hair and leaned forward a little. "Make me a screwdriver, bitch" I commanded in a soft, affectionate tone. "Yes Master." As I watched her work I knew already the patience to not just throw her on the table and rail her was going to be hard to muster.

When she handed me the drink I kissed her again, she pressed against me and tried to get another kiss. I allowed her this but tickled her to get her away a little, then opened the drawer of toys we kept in that room. I took out a pair of handcuffs, a blindfold and a paddle and set them on the counter. I saw her eyes widen in excitement, mixed with just a little bit of fear. I drained the screwdriver diliberately and slowly -- patience was a virtue I was trying to instill in her too -- and picked up the paddle, leaned against the counter right by the sink and handed her the glass. "Wash this out, maidslut."

She froze for a second while she processed the setup, then quickly looked at me and the glass and the sink and the paddle, putting pieces together in understanding. (She can be a little slow.) Enthusiastically she took the glass and started washing it, standing on her toes and leaning over the sink as much as she could ...

not copy pasta, fyi
 
shirt cuffs*

deliberately*

"When I came in, she stood up and came over to me, put her arms around me and kissed me." [List of actions ed.]

"["M]ake me a screwdriver, bitch," I commanded..."

"As I watched her work;I knew already the patience to not just throw her on the table and rail her was going to be hard to muster." [rewrite struck text, split infinitive ed.]

"She froze for a second while she processed the setup,; then quickly looked at me, and the glass, and the sink, and the paddle..."

Cause I seriously dont know how else to respond. :p
 
Inappropriate use of semicolon in the "She froze" sentence, too. (Or "then", depending on how you look at it)
 
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Inappropriate use of semicolon in the "She froze" sentence, too.

Good point. It should be a colon to introduce a list. The problem is that colons make people pause too long and placing a comma makes it too complicated. The whole sentence should be rewritten.

Edit: "She froze for a second; processing the setup. Then quickly looked at me, the glass, the sink, and the paddle..."

Two independent clauses. Yeah baby. Though "process" is such a drab word.
 
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Walking home from class is a lot easier when I know she's waiting for me there. It's a pretty good distance from Social Sciences to Campus Village, almost a full mile, but something just puts a spring in my step. That something is probably the leather collar I have locked around her neck, the black lacey boyshorts panties I make her wear under the short backless maidskirt, the black sheer bra, and the starched white shirtcuffs. She calls it the maidslut uniform, and she loves it.

When I came in she stood up and came over to me, put her arms around me and kissed me. I decided quickly not to let her settle in, and put a finger on her lips before she could say hi. She smiled in understanding at the order and giggled when I picked her up under the hips and carried her over my shoulder into the kitchen, then spun around and set her down on her feet, tickling her.

I leaned back against the counter and looked at her, biting my lip and crossing my arms. She preened her hair and leaned forward a little. "Make me a screwdriver, bitch" I commanded in a soft, affectionate tone. "Yes Master." As I watched her work I knew already the patience to not just throw her on the table and rail her was going to be hard to muster.

When she handed me the drink I kissed her again, she pressed against me and tried to get another kiss. I allowed her this but tickled her to get her away a little, then opened the drawer of toys we kept in that room. I took out a pair of handcuffs, a blindfold and a paddle and set them on the counter. I saw her eyes widen in excitement, mixed with just a little bit of fear. I drained the screwdriver diliberately and slowly -- patience was a virtue I was trying to instill in her too -- and picked up the paddle, leaned against the counter right by the sink and handed her the glass. "Wash this out, maidslut."

She froze for a second while she processed the setup, then quickly looked at me and the glass and the sink and the paddle, putting pieces together in understanding. (She can be a little slow.) Enthusiastically she took the glass and started washing it, standing on her toes and leaning over the sink as much as she could ...

not copy pasta, fyi

wtf. did this happen to you?