Two moments of whimsy

She could not sit still. She could not settle. She wanted to hear his voice and when he called, she hoped with fervour that he would tell her what to do.

Of course, she could do those things to herself. She was more than capable of following the steps by now but she needed it to be at his instruction. She experienced the need like a hunger in her stomach; like a scratch she needed to itch; like a nervous twitch that needed to be calmed.

The phone rang. She heard his voice and was instantly reassured; ready to listen; wanting to please.

"Get the plug"

"Squeeze on it"

"Time for bed"

"Off to sleep"

She snuggled in; into the bed and into the comfort of his control.

"Ni ni, sweetheart"

"Ni ni."

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"Crawl to me," he said in a soft, low voice; so soft and with a smile that the words could be misconstrued as a tease; a suggestion.

Unsure, but unwilling to take the chance of being wrong, she got down on her hands and knees and slowly began to crawl. In her black stockings and black high heeled shoes she looked like a sleek, black cat except for the fact that her long curly blond hair fell around her down turned face.

"Lick my boots."

The instruction incensed her.

"I don't want  to lick your boots."

She looked up at him with rebellious, glowing eyes.

"Do it, he said, so softly she could barely hear him.

"No," she said, with a conviction that most men would have accepted as final.

With his right hand he pushed her head down until her forehead sat on the tip of his boots.

"Do as you are told", he ordered,  this time in a low, 'not to be disobeyed' voice.

Slowly, she brought out her tongue and began to lick the leather, one part of her brain incensed at this strident and stern sense of control and the other appreciative of her lack of choice in the matter.

She wondered why a smart girl like her would be taken in by his soft voice; his easy manner, time and time again. In the end, he always prevailed.