"Again!" Lisianski screamed in my brain.
"I love for my Mistress to lock me in..."
Suddenly, I heard a knock on the bathroom stall. "subGrrl? Is that you in there? Are you ok?"
Story 1: Submissive
Chapter 11:
Oh, my god! It was NemesisGirl. And I could only imagine that she had heard every word that I had said. "Open the door, subGrrl!"
I flushed the toilet as though I had actually used it and slowly opened the door to the stall. NemesisGirl was leaning against the sink with a smug smile on her face and a smart phone in her hand. She tapped on the screen. I heard my voice on the phone's speaker say, "I love for my Mistress to lock me in my cage and whip me!"
I quailed.
"That's quite a soundbite, isn't it?" NemesisGirl asked. "You probably wouldn't want that getting around."
"No, please, I was..." I was trying to make up some plausible excuse, but nothing seemed to materialize. "I was singing a song. A rap song. Spoken word. By a small local band. You wouldn't have heard of them."
"Oh, yeah?" NemesisGirl nodded her head. Then she started shaking it back and forth. "Uh, no. I think that those are your words. I think that you actually DO like to be locked in a cage and whipped, don't you?"
"Don't be ridiculous!" I scoffed.
Lisianski growled in my head. "subGrrl, tell her the truth."
"Uh... I mean... yes..." I looked at the floor - counting how many steps it would require for me to run far, far away.
"Well," NemesisGirl said smiling far too broadly. "This certainly explains a lot."
"It does?" I asked.
"Of course! You are just a little pet, aren't you? Do you have an owner, little pet?"
"Um..."
"Tell her 'No'," Lisianski instructed.
"No..."
"Well, you do now, pet," NemesisGirl said with barely contained glee. "You are such a strange little girl, pet. Frankly, there are lots of people here who are a little afraid of you. They seem to think that you are a little, um, unhinged, perhaps."
I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. I have no idea why anyone would think such ill things about me. I was speechless.
"Luckily for you, though, BossWoman likes the job that you do. And actually, to tell the truth, I kind of like you too. Don't get me wrong! You piss me off!" NemesisGirl's face suddenly became more pinched. "You obviously have talent writing, telling stories, coming up with ideas, but you have zero ability to execute. You are a complete fucking waste of talent. I couldn't stand to sit and watch you do nothing day in, day out, year after year. That's why I started stealing your ideas. Now I understand why you can't execute, though. Don't you?"
I shook my head, no.
"Because you are just a pet. You need someone to pull you around on a leash. From now on, I will be holding that leash. Got it?" NemesisGirl's tone was slightly threatening. I was afraid to react in any way. What if she is some crazy sadistic bitch? What was she going to make me do?
"It's very simple. I want you to give me three good ideas for articles every morning," NemesisGirl said.
"Ok," I whispered.
"They had better be good, too. Otherwise, I'm sure Ms. Morality over in human resources would find your little cage fantasy to be adequate evidence of your instability. I'm sure she would love sever your relationship with the newspaper. It sure would be tough to find a new job in this economy, wouldn't it?"
"Ok," I whispered again, still studying the tiles on the floor.
NemesisGirl's voice softened in tone. "I think that we should formalize our relationship somehow, don't you pet?"
This was beginning to feel painfully familiar.
"I think that you should refer to me as 'Mistress' from now on," NemesisGirl suggested with a smile returning to her face.
"Yes, Mistress," I whispered.
"Very good," Lisianski said inside my brain.
"Yes, Mistress," I whispered again.
"You only need to answer once, pet," NemesisGirl corrected.
---
And that is how I fell under the supervision of two mistresses. My life was controlled all day by NemesisGirl and at night and on weekends I had to lock myself into my small cage, get my back end flayed, and look for special mysterious codes in BDSM sex stories for Lisianski.
---
Some magical nights, while I was asleep dreaming, she would come to me - the short, naked woman with long brunette hair.
With her steel collar and chains, I would have thought that she would be a slave or something, but there was something more free about her than anyone that I have ever known in the real world. Sometimes she would take my hand and we would fly high into the sky over the countryside, mountains, rivers, and oceans. We would fly out until the stars wrapped themselves around us in a beautiful dance of joy and happiness.
She never said a word no matter how many questions that I asked. Maybe she could not speak? Certainly, she understood the things that I said.
I started calling her Laysan. I named her after a Pacific atoll. An atoll is an island that is formed by an ancient volcano. Typically, atolls look like narrow rings of sandy beach surrounding a shallow lagoon. I figured that Laysan must be a little like me after all, isolated, with a hole in the middle. But, just maybe, she is more hopeful than I, perhaps more certain that happiness will smile upon her. I certainly hope that she is.