Eleanor walked out of the tube station, and made her way to her master’s place again, as she did every week. She was looking forward to spending time with him. Just him, and her. She was a little bothered that she hadn’t spoken to Chrissie since last week: she wasn’t returning her calls. She hoped her experience with her master hadn’t upset her so much that she didn’t want anything to do with her again.
After Chrissie had left, she had had one of the best times with him she had ever had. He’d been in an exceptionally good mood, and had tried out a new toy on her, to her great enjoyment. She wondered what he had in store for her today.
She climbed the stairs to his apartment, her anticipation building with each step. She timed her pace so she would outside the door at the exact minute of their appointed time. As she went to knock on the door, she struggled to contain her excitement.
There was nothing. He didn’t call through as usual.
She was about to knock again, when the door opened.
She looked in surprise.
He had answered the door, himself. He never answered the door.
“Good evening, Miss Eleanor. On time, I see. Could you make your way to the training room?”
“Good evening, sir. Of course, sir.”
The training room? What had she done to deserve that? That room was reserved for more severe ‘corrective action’, for more serious breaches. With some trepidation, she made her way there. She pushed open the heavy wooden door, and stood in the doorway, in shock.
In the stocks, completely naked, was Chrissie. Chrissie couldn’t see Eleanor from where she was, but Eleanor recognised the tattoo on her buttocks.
“Miss Christine arrived early, despite strict instruction to be punctual,” he said, stood behind Eleanor.
Eleanor almost jumped at his voice. He gently guided her into the room.
“She also came showing an inappropriate amount of flesh, and her face again painted, though not as much as last week.”
Eleanor knew Chrissie’s wardrobe mainly consisted of clothing to display her legs, cleavage or both.
“As for this,” he continued, tapping the tattoo with a pace stick. “A clear sign of loose morals.”
Eleanor thought she sensed some exhilaration in his attitude. She resisted the urge to check out his crotch, in case he caught her looking; that would be most inappropriate behaviour for a lady.
She also wondered about Chrissie. She hadn’t spoken to her since last week, yet here she was, now. When had he told her to be punctual? Questions raced through Eleanor’s head.
His voice startled her again.
“You have been under my instruction for some time, now.”
“So, you being familiar with my methods, I will allow you to administer her punishment.”
A stunned Eleanor stared at her master.
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