Wednesday, 5 March 2008

Waiting, part 2

Dear Reader, I do apologise for keeping you waiting. But at last, here is the second part of the story Waiting, a story I didn't know had a continuation. I think, perhaps, that this one may require a third part, more than the first part required a second.

The car engine was purring as we road down the road. I looked out on a landscape of rolling hills, green and lush and immensely beautiful. I could have let my mind drown in the magnificent view, let my eyes linger on the greatness of what was there outside the car window. I couldn't, my mind was in turmoil.

The car was enormous, elegant, overwhelming in its powerful stylishness. The woman in the black dress was the queen of this domain. She was at ease, here. She looked out the window, her mind far away. I didn't think she enjoyed the view. No, she was planning something, thinking of something.

I was there and I could do nothing else but sit there. I felt the seat against my body, the body that was exposed to this strange and overwhelming environment. I felt naked. I was naked, almost naked, barely covered in a pathetic red bikini.

I felt silly, wrong, in the wrong place. The elegant woman must laugh at the bad taste of the silly girl sitting next to her, in her silly little red bikini. I blushed.

And I was scared. I knew I was being taken to a punishment and I still didn't know where, why and what.

We drove through a set of imposing gates and up to a very imposing manor house, a palace. I sat in awe staring at the magnificent building in front of me. It was a Pemberley to my imagination but I was no Lizzie. I was just a silly girl in a silly red bikini and who was come her to be punished.

The woman finally turned to me and told me that I was to be taken to a room and there I should take a bath and prepare for the dinner. I was to wear what would be placed on the bed for the dinner.

The woman left the car and went into the head entrance while I was gently escorted to a door at the left side of the house.

I was taken through the kitchen and up the servants stairs but then into the palace proper. I was shown into a large bedroom and to a grand and imposing bathroom were a bath was prepared for me. The servant girl who had escorted me left me. I was alone again.

I took off my tiny garments and slipped into the bathtub. It was heavenly. For a brief moment I could relax. I could forget for a moment where I was and why I was here. I truly enjoyed my bath.

I stepped out of the bath, dried myself and dared look at myself in the mirror. I saw the tiny woman that was me staring back. I felt brought back to reality. I set to work on my appearance. I brushed my hair, arranged it in a nice but plain pony tail. I looked at my face and decided it would be ridiculous if I pretended to be able to make it look beautiful. I applied some mascara and a brief touch of colour to my cheeks. No lipstick, no eye-liner, no nothing.

Then I saw a pair of earrings lying on a small table beside the mirror. It made me realise how tense I was, that I hadn't noticed before. They were a pair of elegantly worked silver drops. I felt almost a princess wearing them.

I turned around and looked at myself. I was clean, as clean as I could be but my bottom was still red. I saw the criss-cross of nasty red marks from the whip on my buttocks. It was still hurting. I wondered if my punishment would mean that they would get more company.

I went into the bedroom to don what was given me. I stared in disbelief at what I saw lying on the bed. I looked around but found nothing. I even looked in the drawers and cupboards but they were empty. I went back into the bathroom and found that even my skimpy bikini had been removed.

I sat on the bed and put on the black stockings. They were stay-ups not requiring any garters or anything. I put on the shoes. They were black ballerinas, made of the softest leather almost like slippers. I took up the black and long gloves and put them on.

That was it. That was what was on the bed. No dress, no skirt, no shirt or blouse. Not even knickers. I was clad in shoes, stocking and gloves as I sat with pounding heart awaiting the call for the dinner.


Paul said...

Janice, so, the plot thickens, a puzzle followed by an enigma.
So we leave the girl, dressed in long gloves, stay up stocking and ballerina shoes.
She is dressed as a possible centre piece, perhaps a dish for food to to be placed on, or possibly as the main dish.
Who knows, it all depends on your strange imagination!!!
Enjoying this, a third part???
Warm hugs,

Anonymous said...

Lovely... The contrast of the bikini and the elegant dress is intriguing.

But, ahh... how I love it when worlds collide!

You, dear Janice, surely do not know of Leroy Neimann's famous Femlin, on the joke page in Playboy Magazine. She is a cute, provocatively posed cartoon character -- dressed exactly like the narrator of the story (sans whip marks). I always imagined the naughty Femlin tied for a good hiding...
Warm Regards,
Wystan Ephraim

Mina said...

Dear Janice, what a lovely read. The contrasts are very well done. She would have felt delicious fresh from her bath, all scrubbed and pink then to put on the stockings and gloves would be very sensual I think. Even the soft leather on her feet. Makes me tingly just reading it.


Anonymous said...

I’m sure I’m one of many of your readers who’s delighted that you’ve carried on with this story. Thank you. She is a great heroine: obedient but hardly abject; sensual but not wanton. Perfect! And the black stay-ups are a wonderful addition to her rather sparse wardrobe – I’ve always had a thing about these, rather than the full panoply of erotic lingerie so beloved by many other writers and illustrators. Enough to set off the nakedness rather than to distract from it. You’re so good at the all-important details. I’m also intrigued by the role of the woman in the black dress. Yes, you’re quite right: “this one may require a third part, more than the first part required a second.”

Janice said...

Dear Paul, I won't tell you, not until I put the third part on my blog...giggles.

Dear Wystan, thanks for mentioning Femlin, hadn't heard of her. There is one other difference, Femlin has high heels.

Dear Mina, mmmm...that is something of the sort I had in mind...that kind of sensation, sensual and shocked, and perhaps a little excited.

Dear Michael, thank you for your kind words. I am not too keen on the corsets, heels and lacy lingerie of many images and stories. Clothes are important, no doubt about that, but I do prefer ordinary clothes.