A few seconds later, I heard Anna running up the stairs. “Chuck? Are you here?” Standing, paralyzed in my room with the dish rag still in my hand,...I answered with a shaky voice, “Yea Mom. I’m in my room.” Her footsteps approached my door. “Can you come out here? I want to talk to you.” I stuffed the dish rag under my pillow and nervously opened my door. “Yea Mom?” Her blank, uncomfortable stare forced a look of guilt onto my face. “Were you just in the kitchen?” My jaw dropped. “Uh..N..No, I. He had been calling her that — not by her name — since the night of his dream, and she didn’t like it one bit. He frowned, but continued. ‘Tomorrow, I will be leaving, on business, for a couple days. While I am gone, the same rules still apply. No visitors. You will stay in the house — Abner has been instructed that your afternoon walks will be postponed until I return, and he knows better than to go against me. Above all, stay out of my rooms.’ She flushed guiltily. A few days ago, she had. Reality was, I HATED it, and the reasons were other than people who looked at that muscled rugby player would think.I was a punk, and believe me, that's nearly unheard of in this unnamed South American country with very old standards. People would have been even more amazed to learn the truth because I was what they called a "ladies guy" that is, I was constantly dating girls, constantly kissing them. I was very fond of girls, too much I realize now. I was obsessed with them, with boobs, with. And what were Master's rules anyway? What would be a 'win', what would be 'better'? I might just stuff it up anywayMy thoughts were interrupted however. Our dom brought over a small plate, and an extension electrical cord. He went to you first, and lifted up your cage, with its tiny trapped clitty, and placed the plate underneath it. He then plugged an Hitachi vibrator into the extension cord, and handed it to you. I think we were both surprised."Bitches, you really are stupid. I'm starting.
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