Locked in the room, she had nothing to distract her. Miller had taken her clothes, makeup and jewelry. He’d left her with the sub’s picture, her shoes and that mirror. She had to wear the shoes in order to be fed or use the bathroom.
She’d tried to be an Uber-Domme, hence the shoes. She’d beaten a sub and ignored the safe word. When she tried to defend her actions, the subs welts and scabs along with Dirk’s and Tim’s testimony weighed against her. Rather than go to jail, she submitted to incarceration. There were days she wished she had gone to jail.
The facade of power was cracked and failing as she stood against the mirror. Over the speakers came a mix of D/s etiquette lectures and classical music. She found herself looking forward to the sound of Miller’s voice. She was not looking forward to the whip work promised by Belinda.eighty-five strokes. One lash for each the sub took. She stood against the mirror wondering how she would cope.
Miller watched from the spy camera. It was nearly time.
She’d fucked up. How? How had she screwed up so badly? Her body was great. Pert breasts, smooth skin, good bone structure and those heels. The heels set off her legs perfectly. She was everything a Dom could ask for.
She didn’t need a whole lot of money, or a big fine car. All she wanted was a Dom that would fill her heart with desire. Walking into the club, she’d known it would work. All she had to do was sing as she hung on the cross. Listen to the crack of the whip… Pour out her heart and make him want to wrap his arms around her.
Her voice cracked and failing in her attempt to win his heart, she was left with a bare room and a fun house mirror. She was some kind of wonderful.
Boris was such a bastard.
Welcome to the First Flash Fiction Friday of 2012. Thank you Panser for the picture and the prompt. If you’d like to play, visit Panser’s blog on Monday morning, collect the info and let the MUSE run wild. Oh, and don’t forget to post!
As for my selections this week… Blame it on life of late, or the fact that I’ve spent too much time writing Vanillaverse stories. Whatever. This picture just kept singing darkness to me. Funny too in that the second one had Grand Funk’s Some Kind Of Wonderful running though my head and straight into the story. Then again, Wolf and I had been talking about bad Doms and that probably started it. Add the week from hell and you get these two stories. I’m hoping for a ‘lighter’ week next week.