Thursday, 8 January 2009

Waiting, part 3

You didn't think this would ever happen, did you? The third part of the Waiting story. Now it is here. Anyway, this doesn't mean the Surrender story is put on halt, no, I will continue posting it. There is more to come.

If you wonder where the second part is, I can tell you it is here.

Dinner was called and I knew there was no turning back. I rose on trembling legs and opened the door to the corridor outside my room. I looked around to see that no one was looking and sneaked out. I knew this was silly, I knew there would be dinner guests and the stern woman who had brought me here. I knew I had to meet people, had to have them look at me.

I was naked. I wore shoes, stocking and gloves but they didn't make me feel clothed. Instead they seemed to emphasise my nudity, the fact that my body was uncovered, bare.

I wondered if this was part of my punishment. In some strange way this gave me some comfort. Maybe the shame I felt, the embarrassment was intended and a part of my being punished. It made sense, there was a reason for it.

I looked around and stood in awe, staring at the imposing building that surrounded me. I gasped at the size and the beauty of the stair. The steps were made of marble and the railings of some shining stone. It was a stately home, a palace, worthy of a prince or a king.

Below the stairs I saw two servants standing by a great double door. I assumed it was the dinner hall. I took a deep breath and approached them.

They nodded at me and opened the door. There was nothing in their manners that suggested that there should be anything unusual with a girl dressed in nothing but stockings and gloves.

The hall was swarming with people and I stood inside the door, gasping for air. The crowd of people were dressed to kill, black tie and cocktail dresses, satin and pearls and breathtaking elegance. This was a proper dinner. And there was me.

The men and women mingled with cocktails in their hands and occasionally someone passed me, smiled at me and walked on. They looked at me but said nothing, showed nothing. It was as if I was just another guest.

'There you are, Little One.'

It was the voice of the woman, the woman in black who had had me whipped and who had taken me here in her car. She was no longer in black but in a ankle long red satin dress. She had a pearl necklace and pearl drops and looked stunning.


I felt stupid but it seemed right to show her respect.

'Come and meet the guests!'

She made a gesture with her hand and I had to come with her.

I was presented to all kinds of people as 'Little One' while they were Duchess of This and Earl That. I tried my best not to think about my dress, or lack of dress. It was impossible. I was naked and they knew I was naked and nothing could make me forget that.

Something odd happened when I was taken round and introduced to the guests. Instead of treating me as one of the guests they felt free to stare at me. Maybe they knew who I was, that I was brought her for a punishment, that I deserved no respect.

The men looked me over, from head to toe, down and up and down again, slowly, scrutinising me. They smiled. Maybe they liked what they saw, maybe they found me pathetic, comical. I couldn't tell. I felt my cheeks flash and my body tremble. I felt goosebumps on my skin and I knew they could see that too. I looked down and saw my beaded nipples and knew they had noticed that too.

The women smiled at me too but often with a glint of satisfaction in their eyes, one or two even sneered. They looked at me as if to make sure I was really naked and then they smiled.

Then we sat down to dinner. I was placed at the table as any other guest and my neighbours conversed with me as if I was one of them. For a brief moment I could almost forget I was naked, I felt safe behind the table although my bosom was still on full display for anyone to see.

I can't say I was able to enjoy the different courses that were served. I just wanted it all to end as quickly as possible.

At last the dinner was over and we left the table. Again I knew they could look at me and I wanted to hide, to go away somewhere and not stay.

The woman in red dress saw that I tried to sneak away to a secluded corner and called me to her. She directed me to a room where the men sat down after dinner to smoke and have a glass of something. I was directed to a chair and placed on it. I was told I didn't have to talk unless spoken to but I was not to cross my legs.

I was relieved that the men didn't talk to me but they smiled at me and looked at me and sometimes I got the impression that they talked about me. I sat nervously at the edge of the chair desperately trying to remember I couldn't cross my legs, fearing I would leave a stain on the chair.

Then there was the dance. The big room had been cleared and there was a small group of musicians playing. I had to dance, there was no escape.

It was a strange sensation feeling the clad arm against my naked back and how sometimes my body was pressed close to the chest of my partner. I was naked against their jackets and it made me feel even more exposed.

At last the dinner party drew to a close. The guests began to leave. The woman in red stayed and said goodbye to them all and I had to stand by her side, curtsy and smile at them.

When the room was almost empty I turned to her, daring to talk to her.



'Is this my punishment?'

She smiled at me.

'No, Little One, this was for pleasure. Tomorrow we will have you punished. I am sure they will enjoy it.'

'Will the guests come back?'

'Yes, Little One, they will, they won't miss it for anything.'


Meta said...

I found your blog after you'd posted parts 1 & 2, so I went back and read those. I'm intrigued by who the author of the original note (from part 1) is. If this girl is willing to go along with all of this without question, there she must have a lot of trust in him/her/them.

I also love the way Little One is (isn't) dressed (and the picture to go with it!), and how she feels more naked with some clothes on that don't cover private parts than she would with no clothes.

Anonymous said...

Two days short of a year ago, I tentatively entered the world of online interaction by posting a comment on Part One of Waiting, which was the first piece by you, Janice, that I had read. It grabbed my attention as few other works of erotic fiction have ever done, so it’s hardly surprising that Waiting has a special place in my affections and I’m delighted that you have taken up Little One’s story again.
I love this latest episode. I don’t know why, but the presence of a naked girl in a room full of smartly-dressed people, both men and women, features frequently in my own fantasy world. And the acceptance by all present that it is somehow a perfectly normal occurrence (“It was is if I was just another guest.”) adds hugely to the potency of the scene.
I look forward to Part Four and hope the wait won’t be too long. I won’t miss it for anything.
Thank you.
Hugs, Michael

Paul said...

Janice, I just knew that patience would pay off in the end.
A beautiful test of a well trained submissive.
I find it hard to imagine being naked under those circumstances.
If that wasn't her punishment, I wonder what is, I await the fruit of your 'strange' imagination with patience, hopefully I won't need as much as last time.
Love and warm hugs,

Mina said...

Janice, I don't know if you know the British TV series Upstairs, Downstairs but for some reason the lady in red reminds me of Lady Marjorie from that series. Or perhaps it is just that way she has of commanding everything around her.

Anyway, a nice appetiser for the punishment.


Janice said...

Dear Meta, to be perfectly honest, this story began with a slightly surreal scene, a kind of fantasy thing when you do things, like in a dream, someone tells you what to do and you do it, without asking questions. It grew from there. And I think you would feel more naked if you were allowed clothes like that, that didn't cover you.

Dear Michael, your encouragement means a lot to me. I am glad I struck a chord. Contrasts are important for me, dressed/unclad, high/low, mistress/slave, that sort of thing.

Dear Paul, thank you for this comment. 'I find it hard to imagine being naked under those circumstances.' This is really what I wanted. It is hard, it is supposed to be hard and still, it is so intriguing.

Dear Mina, I know the series. I didn't think of it when I wrote it but I can see what you mean now, when you have mentioned it.



Ollie said...

My Dear Janice, so you continued with Waiting? I found the initial story delightful as you know, and you have taken the story in a somewhat different direction than I did. I particularly like the way Little One is nearly naked, the gloves and stockings serving only to emphasise her nakedness whilst the guests are clothed.

A fine continuation. Thanks, I await her punishment with enthusiasm.