Miss and I often went to lunch together. It was our “us” time. Today we were walking down Main Street to a little café at the end of the block from where I parked. She walked to my right, closest to the buildings while I stayed on the side closest to the street. Miss was shorter than me by a few inches, petite with pale, freckled skin, lovely red hair that she kept in an old-style fashion, and the brightest green eyes I had ever seen. She was beautiful without doubt.

We were such a contrast in public. She was this open ray of sunshine, bubbly and always smiling as opposed to my closed off, perma-scowl. My hair was mousy brown and always in a disheveled ponytail, my eyes a dull gray, and my skin unevenly tanned.

Miss liked to hang on my arm and bounce along at my side wherever we went. I didn’t mind one bit. I liked it when she was close and touching me in any way. Miss was one of the few I let touch me. Contact between people was uncomfortable for me and I had to trust someone deeply before I let them lay hands on me even casually.

I stepped forward as we reached the café and opened the door for Miss to pass through. I led her to our usual table by the window where she could people watch while we ate and pulled out her chair, scooting it in again as she sat.

“Your usual?” I ask as I head to the counter to order.

“Yes, please,” she answers in her bright, sweet voice.

It makes me smile, taking care of Miss like this. It was small gestures, sure, but it was important to me. I liked showing her that I could take care of her.

I stood at the counter for a few minutes before it was my turn to order. Club sandwiches, one with no tomatoes, one with extra pickle, and two coffees. I paid, took my receipt and the order number, and returned to our table. I sat across from Miss and we picked up a casual conversation about events coming to town and what we might like to attend together. Miss loved big events with lots of people. The louder and more festive, the better in her opinion. I preferred smaller, more casual gatherings with art and music, and just enough people to make it comfortable without being crowded. So we compromised – I would attend the street fair with her this week, and she would come with me to the local artist show the following.

Our number was called, and I got up to collect our meal. When I came back there was a man standing over Miss, talking to her in what I thought was a far too friendly way. I hurried back to the table and slid our tray in front of the man, giving him my very best “get out of my way” glare.

He seemed unphased – actually, he appeared amused as he looked past me to Miss. “I’ll catch up with you later, yeah?”

“Sounds good. Have a nice day!”

“You too.” He moved around me to pat Miss’s shoulder before he left.

I sat in my seat, glaring at the man as he went to join some of his friends on the other side of the café. “Who was that?” I grumbled.

“Just a friend, kitten. Calm down.”

I grunted, then drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Sorry.” I handed Miss her sandwich and coffee, then took my own from the tray and tossed it to the table behind us.

Miss just smiled and ate as though nothing at all had happened. I began to relax and enjoy my meal, trying to push off the annoyance I felt for the man’s boldness and casual brush off. When Miss upended her coffee cup I stood, taking it as soon as she handed it to me and headed to get it refilled.

When I turned around that man was back, sitting in my seat across from Miss and leaning across the table, hands out reached to her. Miss was sitting far back in her chair looking like touching him was the last thing on her mind. I was livid! How dare he? Miss clearly didn’t want his attention and he was intruding on our lunch! I stormed over to the table.

“Excuse you, you’re in my seat,” I hissed at the man.

He smirked and continued to purposefully ignore me. “I’m just saying, it’s been months. Shouldn’t we get together? Have a little fun?”

Miss smiled but glanced at me and took the coffee I held for her. She didn’t look happy at all. “Maybe, but you know why it’s been so long. We have to talk about this before anything happens. I will not have a repeat of last time.”

“Come on,” he pressed in a smooth, flirty tone. “You know it was an accident. I’d never do anything like that intentionally.”

“Excuse me,” I said a little louder, not at all liking being ignored. “My seat.”

The man sat back and gave me a disapproving glare, then looked me over from head to toe and smirked. “What are you going to do about it?”

Miss’s warning to stop came too late as I snatched up what was left of my drink – about half a cup of still rather warm, black coffee – and tossed the contents at him. It hit his chest mostly and splashed up into his face before pooling in his lap. The man jumped from his seat with a started cry of “what the fuck?!” and tried to wipe himself clean.

Miss sighed heavily. “You should be careful who you down-talk to, Sam,” she told the man, shaking her head. “Call me later and we will talk.”

Sam looked over his soggy button-down and pants, then up at me. He was several inches taller than me and quite a bit broader, but that didn’t intimidate me one bit. I might have been considered less than average height but I more than made up for it in confidence and pure bad temper.

“Yeah,” he grunted, not taking his eyes off me as we stared each other down. “I’ll call you.”

He stood there for a few minutes longer until Miss cleared her throat. I looked away, going to get some napkins to clean up my seat. Sam mumbled something else before he left the café in a show if attitude, throwing the door open hard enough to make it creek in protest.

I came back to my seat and wiped up the pooled coffee. I didn’t look at Miss once as I cleaned up the mess I had made, and still when I sat, I kept my eyes downcast.

“Kitten,” she said in a soft but stern tone, “that is unacceptable behavior.

“He was bothering you,” I grumbled.

She sighed and I could hear the disappointment in the sound. “Kitten. We’ve talked about this.”

“I don’t like it when people talk down to you!” I snapped, lifting my head enough to see her hands on the table, but not looking her in the face. “Especially when they act like they’re better than you.”

“What did he say that gave you that impression?”

I tried to recall what word it was, what sentence he had said, but I couldn’t think of anything. “I don’t know. Just… just his entire presence felt wrong.”

“So, without any provocation, or without me asking you to, you stepped in.”

“I just wanted to protect you!”

Miss sighed again and the sound went right to my stomach. “I’ll see you later,” she said dismissively, grabbing her purse and standing from the table. I didn’t dare look at her as she left me alone in the café. I had made a scene and she disapproved. She had told me more than once my temper needed to be kept under better control – and usually I did okay, especially around her – but today had been an absolute failure.

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, then collected our trash and disposed of it properly. I tucked my purse under my shoulder and headed out of the café. I felt everyone watching me as I left, judging me and my outburst. Their criticism didn’t bother me at all, but Miss’s… they were judging her too because of my actions. I had embarrassed her in public in front of someone she said was a friend. Shame fell over me like a dark cloud as I headed home.

I walked around my house in my usual routine, but I felt so down – disappointed with myself – and hardly thought about anything I did. I pulled out my phone as I sat in the recliner in my living room and tapped out a quick message to Miss.

-I’m sorry, please forgive me?-

I stared at the message for several minutes, hoping Miss would message me back quickly, but no response came. I sat the phone on the table beside me and turned on the TV, trying to distract myself.

The rest of the day passed in a haze of depression and TV. I checked my phone often, but no response came from Miss. When I went to bed that night, I knew I had messed up, worse than I had ever done before.

Sleep was hard to find, and I woke in the morning feeling like I hadn’t slept at all.

I checked my phone again, still no message.

With a dejected sigh I began my morning routine. Bathroom, shower, brush teeth, hair, get dressed, have breakfast, head out for work. It was monotony and one of the reasons I had sought out Miss in the first place. I hated the routine of life, unexciting and bland.

I checked my phone again before heading into work. Still no message.

I spent my day in my cubical of the call center largely detached from everything. I answered my calls, got the job done, and spent the down time in between trying to think of ways I could apologize to Miss for my atrocious behavior.

I checked my phone on each break and lunch hopefully, only to be further disappointed that no message came.

On my way home that night I stopped at a florist’s shop and spent too much money on flowers and Miss’s favorite chocolates. I added a simple note that said; ‘Please forgive me’ and made sure that they would deliver it only to her hands and no one else. I continued home feeling a little better. Surely, she would know how sorry I was and I would be forgiven.

I waited for a message on my phone as the minutes to bedtime ticked by. Still nothing.

I found sleep easier that night, emotionally drained and still tired from lack of sleep the night before.

Morning came and still no message.

I continued with the daily routine, doing my best to ignore the sinking feeling in my stomach. Miss must be really angry.

I was short tempered at work all day, nobody was safe from my wrath and my co-workers avoided me like the plague. I got caught speeding on my way home and the officer threatened to take me to jail if I didn’t control my temper. By the time I got home I was seething.

I grabbed my phone and felt tears sting at my eyes when there was still no message from Miss.

-Please, I need you. I will do anything you want! Just say you forgive me!-

Still no message came before bedtime.

The next morning I didn’t bother to check my phone. I got up and went through my usual routine. It was Wednesday now and I would have to attend a staff meeting – where likely my attitude from the previous day would be addressed – and I wouldn’t get home until late.

I muddled through the day, issuing an apology for my outbursts the day before and graciously accepting the write-up I received for it. I decided to go to the gym after work. I needed to release some pent-up stress and with Miss ignoring me, there was no hope of her help.

I spent nearly two hours pushing my limits so I would be tired enough to sleep when I got home. I didn’t want to spend the night anxiously staring at my phone. I wanted to drop into bed without thinking about Miss not messaging me.

I showered before I headed home, taking care to pay extra attention to my nethers – enjoying seeing the shadows of people moving past the privacy curtain as I serviced myself in the public shower. I bit my lip to keep quiet as I pushed myself to orgasm. If Miss was going to ignore me, I would take care of myself.

The drive home was much calmer than it had been the rest of the week, and I felt a lot better walking into my house. I ate a quick dinner and cleaned up afterwards, then headed straight to bed. I set my phone on the table beside the bed and pulled the covers up over my shoulder as I laid down on my right side. The screen on my phone was lit and I noticed a sign that said I had messages. It wasn’t Miss, I told myself and closed my eyes. Miss had ignored me for three days, there was no way it was Miss. Still my heart beat a little faster and my eyes wouldn’t stay closed, so I scooped up the phone and unlocked the screen.

There were two messages from co-workers to remind me of the potluck lunch the next day – fuck that, I’d forgotten. I would have to go by the store in the morning.

There was a message from my mother berating me for yet another traffic ticket and warning me for the hundredth time that I needed to be a better driver.

The last was from Miss. My hand shook as I opened it.

-See me Friday directly after work. Do not go anywhere but the dungeon for any reason at all. Do not get stopped by the police on your way. Plan to go to work Monday morning from here with no stops on the way. Plan to be late and act accordingly. You will wear a long dress, or long skirt on Monday. Preferably green.-

It wasn’t forgiveness, but it was a path to forgiveness, and I had already said I would do anything at all. I trusted Miss.

-I will be there.-

I just had to get though two more days and I would be with Miss again and I would earn my forgiveness. The excitement kept me up for several hours and I woke up late. I had to rush through my morning routine, cutting out breakfast so I could hit the store before I got to work. They would have to be happy with jam and rolls. It’s not like I cared anyway. My mind was solely on Miss and the long weekend I would be facing. I knew it wasn’t going to be pleasant, it would be punishment and work to earn Miss’s forgiveness, but I looked forward to it, nonetheless.

Thursday dragged on forever and I had to take something just to get to sleep that night. I woke up long before my alarm Friday morning and took the time to pack my bag for that evening. I was shaking the entire time as I checked to make sure all my things were accounted for and in perfect condition. I sifted through my clothing over and over again searching for a green dress or skirt that I thought Miss might like. I knew green was her favorite color and the request to dress in green was her way of saying she still cared about me. I would not disappoint her.

I settled on a forest green, capped sleeve dress that sported a deep V cut in the front and was low slung in the back. I paired it with a casual, brown shawl to make it “work appropriate”, and matched it with three inch, lace up, brown suede ankle boots. I grinned at the outfit with satisfaction. That would make Miss happy for sure.

I packed it carefully in a different bag and set it beside my black duffel before continuing my daily routine. I checked for messages before I left, but I wasn’t surprised at all to find none. Miss had given her directions and I had accepted. There wasn’t anything else to be said.

The workday was pure torture. I watched the clock like a hawk and that didn’t help one bit, but at least I was in a better mood than I had been the beginning of the week. I held friendly conversation with co-workers and passed the day with every distraction I could manage.

When it was time to clock out, I sprang from my chair and all but bolted for the door. Every second counted and I was forbidden from risking another ticket. I couldn’t get pulled over again, so I obeyed the traffic laws with almost painful restraint.

Pulling into the driveway I noticed that the garage door was open, and Miss’s car was pulled to the far side. She wanted me to pull inside.

I was careful to leave space between our cars so she had room to get into her car without having to worry about mine.

As I shut the door to my car, I noticed a note on the door of the garage. ‘Close the garage door and come downstairs.’

Hitting the button as I opened the door, I waited just long enough to make sure the garage door closed before I went inside. I hurried down the stairs, heart pounding with anxiety as I searched for Miss.

The padded table was in the middle of the floor waiting for me and I sighed with relief.

“Right on time,” Miss hummed with approval from the wall by the stairs. “That’s a good start.”

I admired her shiny green corset, thigh high, supple, green leather boots with hook and eye fasteners, and the green choker she was wearing. Her hair was pulled back at the sides and fastened with green gem barrettes, then tumbled in perfect curls from there. She had dressed to the nines for this.

“I said I would do anything,” I pointed out as I placed my black duffel on the table, then laid my bag with the dress in it beside it.

Miss smiled, taking the dress bag and checking the contents. She nodded with approval. “We’re going to test that this weekend, kitten. We will see how far you’re willing to go to prove you’re my soft kitten and not the feral bitch I saw in the café on Sunday.”

“I promise, anything at all. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

“We’ll see,” she hummed with a note of challenge to her voice. I couldn’t imagine what she thought I wouldn’t do for her. “Hurry up. We don’t have a lot of time to get ready.”

“Get ready?” I started pulling off my clothes, showing off the black lingerie with tiny pink bows that I had bought with her in mind. It was more supportive for my D cup breasts and laced tight around my waist. It had guarder straps that clipped to the thigh highs I was wearing. I had skipped the underwear today; going commando always made me extra wet and Miss liked knowing I had been bare all day for her.

Miss frowned at me as I folded my shirt and slacks, setting them neatly on the table as I discarded my kitten heals underneath. “No, that won’t do.”

“You don’t like it?” I looked over the lacy black teddy with disappointment.

She shook her head and ran a finger over the cinched section of my stomach. “Oh, I love it, kitten. But it won’t work for this weekend. All off. Completely bare for me.”

I nodded and hurried to undo the laces and strip of the thin fabrics. I was disappointed that Miss didn’t want me to wear it, but I was proving to her that I was worth forgiving, so whatever she wanted I would do.

Miss was clearly in a hurry as she grabbed the black flex tape and started wrapping my legs while I worked. No sooner did I have the teddy off was she working on my hands, wrapping my fingers to my palms and spiraling up to my elbows.

“How is that?” She asked as she tested the snugness of the tape.

“It’s fine,” I promised.

Miss nodded and took the headband with my kitten ears and slid it into my hair. It was still pulled up into a bun from my workday, but it seemed that didn’t matter to her at the moment. “On the table,” she ordered sharply.

“Yes, Miss.” I hurried to climb onto the table, reminding myself that I wasn’t a kitten yet and had to be aware of my responses.

She walked around me, looking me over and checking that the tape was properly fastened in place. It was odd that she was being so critical, and I wondered what she had planned for this weekend.

Miss walked out of my visual range; I kept my head forward, not daring to move unless she said.

I heard the distinct sounds of metal jingling as Miss collected whatever it was she wanted to use for tonight. She walked up behind me and touched the back of my left calf, then slid her hand down to my ankle and lifted it enough to slide something underneath. I felt the cuff tighten around my ankle as she snugged it down to just shy of too tight and buckle it. I heard a soft click of the tiny lock she used to make sure it stayed where she wanted it. She repeated the process on my right ankle, then strapped another band around my upper right thigh, then left thigh. All were locked in place with the little locks only she had a key to.

When she walked around to face me, she had a stern expression on her face; this wasn’t for her pleasure, this was business and it worried me. I opened my mouth to ask what was happening, but Miss shook her head.

“Hush,” she warned and continued fastening cuffs around my wrists, then upper arms.

The last thing she put into place was my collar. The fact she was putting that on me without any prompt or service from me was a relief but was also a concern. I heard a little jingle from it as she locked it into place and knew there had been an addition made to it. I had to assume it was a tag by the sound and where it hung when she finished situating the collar.

“You will need to be completely cleaned out for tonight, so we’re going to jump straight to the enemas. If you behave until your tail is in place, I promise you a reward. If you don’t then you will get nothing.”

“Yes, Miss.” I didn’t mind enemas. I actually enjoyed them most of the time, but Miss’s clipped tone and warning told me that these weren’t going to be the pleasant, gentle ones she liked to use to help me relax and get me worked up.

“Get in position.”

I bent my arms and rested my head and chest on the table, leaving my ass high in the air. I turned my head to the side Miss was working and watched as she grabbed a red enema bag and took it to the shallow tub in the corner of the basement. I saw a curl of steam rise before she adjusted the temperature and I knew this was going to be a hot rinse. Then came the soap and I knew she was absolutely serious about behaving. I didn’t hate soap suds enemas. They were fun in the right setting, but this wasn’t it. Miss was being too business-like, too down to the basics and getting the job done for me to be anywhere near the right mood for this.

When she was finished with that one, she hung it on a rolling rack, then grabbed a second bag and started filling it too. I groaned with the implications of two bulging enema bags. Miss glanced at me and she had a hard look on her face. She wasn’t going to take any kind of protest today.

I promised I would do anything, I reminded myself as I closed my eyes and waited patiently for the treatment.

I flinched when I heard the bucket hit the floor behind me and had no warning before I felt cold lube poured onto my ass. Miss rubbed it between my cheeks and prodded my anus briefly, then the tip of the enema tube was at my entrance and being shoved inside. It wasn’t painful but it wasn’t kind either. She gave me no warning at all before the hot, soapy water started to flood my body. I swallowed my protest and did my best to just stay still, but the cramps started almost right away. I breathed through it and I felt Miss’s hand on my stomach rub gentle circles until I relaxed again. She didn’t stop the flow, or slow it down, but rubbed my belly every time I grunted with a cramp.

When the bag was empty, she pulled the tube out without warning and I had to clench not to lose the water pressing to be released.

“Hold it,” she demanded and stood to the side, watching the clock on the stairs wall – far too high for me to see from anywhere in the basement I usually spent any time.

I squirmed as I fought to hold the enema in. Sometimes this part was just as fun for me as any other part of our play, but today it felt like a challenge – a punishment – and it was far from pleasurable. Not that my wet cunt knew any different.

Miss came back and put her hand on my back, pushing me to sit with my ass hanging off the table between my legs. “Let it out.”

I felt the bucket pressed close to my back end as the water rushed out. Miss rubbed my back gently while I expelled the warm, soapy fluid. She waited until she was sure I was done before pushing me back into position.

“Round two,” she informed me as the second tube pushed into my asshole. This one went deeper, making it a little easier to endure as the water rushed in. This one went far faster, and I felt the pressure more intensely, but there was less cramping. Miss had me hold this one also, but she rubbed my back and ass while we waited this time. Was she starting to forgive me? Had I accepted her punishment and now things would be okay?

Again she pushed me into position to expel the water, waiting until she was sure I was done with it. She left me sitting while she emptied the bucket and cleaned up. The bags and tubes were cleaned and hung to dry and the bucket put upside down in the tub.

I felt a little drained sitting there waiting for her. She had a whole weekend planned and I couldn’t begin to fathom what it was she intended to do to me. All the cuffs told me there would be plenty of restraining, but she put my collar on so it wasn’t going to be any rough retraining… I hoped.

When Miss came back, she pushed my butt back up so I was on hands and knees again. “You did good, kitten, so you get a treat in your cage.”

I felt the familiar touch of my tail plug, the fur brushing against my leg as she ran the head of the plug between my cheeks. I pressed back a little, hoping to encourage her to slide it home.

“You’re going to be good for me tonight, aren’t you kitten?”

“Yes, Miss,” I whined.

“And you’re going to accept everything I have planned for you, because you want me to forgive you, aren’t you kitten?”

“Yes, Miss!” I pressed back a little more.

“And when my guests arrive, you’re going to behave yourself, aren’t you kitten?”

“Guests?” Now I was less interested in the plug and more interested in her plans.

Miss chuckled and pushed the plug into my ass. “Kittens don’t speak, do they?”

I moaned, wiggling until the plug settled comfortably in my asshole.

“Good. We’re having a pet show tonight, kitten, and I expect you to show off for me. Show everyone what a good pet you are and how well I’ve tamed you. From feral bitch to my sweet, soft kitten.”

Pet show? I swallowed hard as anxiety rose up quickly.

“You’re not going to like it, pet. Not one bit. But you’re going to behave yourself and control that temper of yours. If you want me to forgive you for embarrassing me in the café, and keep you as my pet, then you will endure, and you will compose yourself as the perfect pet.” Her tone was harsh and demanding. She ran her hand up my spine and grabbed a fist full of hair, pulling my head back so I met her eyes. “Understood?”

I gave a soft mew – all I could do to show I understood.

“Good.” She released her grip and stepped away from me. “There will be several pets and their masters at the show tonight. You will all be judged and ranked in order of obedience, posture, temperament, and desirability. If you do not place well, you will regret it.”

I whined as the anxiety drove higher. I could hear her messing around with the collapsible crate that was my cage.

“I have to go upstairs to greet the guests and get the other pets settled before we start. You will wait patiently for me here and enjoy your treat. It’s the last treat you will get all weekend, so enjoy it.”

Miss came back into my view, a leash in hand. She clipped it to my collar, making the little tag jingle as she did. “Down.”

I climbed off the table and dropped to the floor, waiting for her to give me a cue before I moved to my cage. I climbed inside and made myself comfortable. Miss left the leash on and closed the door, then threw a dark cover over top. I heard her walking way and going up the stairs. I was alone now to deal with rising anxiety over what was to come.

Remembering Miss promised a treat I fumbled around in the dark until my hand touched a cold metal. I used both hands to examine it and realized it was my food bowl and inside were several round, hard object. I dipped my head and sniffed it. Chocolates! I lapped a piece into my mouth and enjoyed the flavor as it melted against my tongue. I hadn’t had dinner and I had been far too excited to eat a proper lunch, so now I found myself quite hungry. I ate every last chocolate ball she had left me, making a note to thank her properly for them later.

I curled up and relaxed while I waited. It was getting easier. I felt the anxiety dim and fade away until it was unnoticeable. Then I felt a tingling heat between my legs and felt my wet pussy begin to drip. I squirmed, wondering if I could get away with a quick self-servicing before the night began.

Heavy footsteps on the floor above me told me that things were getting started. It was best not to risk it – Miss would be livid if she caught me masturbating without permission. I groaned and settled for moving until my plug pressed pleasantly against my insides and rocking on it for stimulation. There would be no relief from this, but at least it felt good.

I could hear voices and more footsteps, then some music started playing with a deep, thrumming base beat. I groaned as I felt it more than heard it, each pulse shooting straight to my tingling cunt I didn’t know Miss had come back downstairs until the dark cover was pulled from my cage and Miss looked in on me.

She looked at the empty bowl and my needy pose and smiled. “I see. Enjoyed your treat?”

I gave her a very happy purr as answer, still rocking against my plug, knees spread wide and back bowing to give my hips more motion.

Miss laughed and opened the cage. She grabbed the leash and gave it a sharp tug to get me moving. “Let’s get you looking your best, kitten. The show’s about to start.”

I hummed and crawled from the cage, following her tugging lead back to the table. She patted the padded surface and I climbed up, dragging my front over the surface as I did. It felt so good that I took my time, rubbing against it a little longer than I should have.

Miss smacked my ass to get me moving again and I scrambled up onto the table.

“Lay down. I’m going to fix your hair.”

I sank with my knees bent up to my sides and my butt between my feet, then brought my elbows down to prop my upper body, chest pushed forward so my boobs were pressed against the table but little else, and kept my head held up high.

Miss made quick work of pulling out the bun and brushing my hair, removing the ear band until she was ready for it. She split my hair so that a large portion hung in my face, then replaced the band and used the front hair to hold it in place and hide the metal. After that I wasn’t sure what she did, only that she pulled and pushed, and I heard the hiss of a curler now and again. I felt blissful with her hands in my hair, but I was still burning for contact. I wanted something in my pussy, and I wanted it now. I squirmed a little, trying to push my sopping wet cunt against the table, or my heel, or anything at all. Miss slapped my ass anytime I moved too much, and I was left with a red, sore rear.

When she was satisfied with my hair, she stood in front of me and held my chin. It strained my neck to look up at her like this, but she didn’t seem to care; and honestly? Neither did I. I was too focused on the need between my legs to worry about a little discomfort in my neck. She turned away for a moment then came back with a black pencil looking thing – eye liner, I realized – and set to work outlining my eyes just the way she wanted.

None of this had ever been a part of our play – I wasn’t much into hair and makeup, but Miss was. This was for her, just like everything this weekend was, and I would deal with it as long as it made her happy.

Miss looked at me critically, but she didn’t seem to be seeing me. She was looking at a thing, an object, not her pet. Not me. It felt oddly disconcerting and terrible, but it also felt a little bit exciting. My pussy dripped with desire as she stared at me and I whimpered with want, but she ignored it.

Next thing I knew she released my chin and grabbed my leash. “Come,” she ordered and tugged on the leather strap.

I climbed off the table and followed Miss to the stairs, crawling up behind her as quickly as I was able. The main room was still empty, though I could hear people talking just beyond the door in what was considered the dinning room of the house. I saw several covered objects and wondered what could be hiding underneath, but I didn’t have much time to think. Miss led me to a strange contraption, it looked like a bunch of polls welded to a metal platform.

“Climb up,” Miss ordered, but I wasn’t sure how.

I moved closer trying to figure out how to get around the polls and noticed clips set into the platform. The whole thing was confusing.

“Here,” Miss guided me to lift my front over one of the polls that had a padded cross bar.

I had to set my knees on the platform and press my hips against the crossbar before Miss let me go. She moved my legs, guiding each into a brace that sat just under the crossbar, holding my thighs wide apart and then she clipped a chain to each thigh cuff that pulled them together so I couldn’t move out of the braces. Then she knelt and clipped my ankle cuffs to the clips set into the platform.

“Bend,” Miss directed as she pushed on my shoulders. I leaned forward until my chin rested on another padded crossbar. She took a chain attached to it and clipped it to my collar, then fastened the wrist cuffs at the base of that same poll. I felt rather helpless and immobile at this point, but Miss wasn’t done.

“Open,” she demanded, tapping my mouth.

I pushed my jaw against the crossbar and opened my mouth. She pressed a rubber bar gag into my mouth and tugged it tight around my head, careful not to mess my hair she had just perfected. She moved to my side and I heard more chains and a leather belt slid around my waist, tightened like a cinch until it was almost painful. I wondered what it was for until I felt her pulling my midsection down, chain rattling as the belt made me bow my back. I heard a click and the pulling stopped but it held me in place. Now I was posed on my hands and knees with my ass turned as far up as it could go. It was uncomfortable but not intolerable.

Miss walked around me, looking critically at every position of my body, every curve, and every strap holding me in place. “Perfect,” she declared and grabbed a silky blanket from the other side of the contraption I was locked into and pulled it over me. I was completely covered and could barely see light peeking through the tightly woven threads of the fabric.

Several minutes passed in this obscurity as I waited to find out what came next. I heard a door open and close and then the music dimmed. The door opened again, and I could hear people talking and laughing as they filed into the room.

“Alright, ladies, gentlemen, and others!” A man commanded over the din of the room. “We begin the show with the blind draw. You’ve all brought your pets for everyone to see, and for the judges to evaluate. We have ten pets, ten masters, and five judges – plus me, your director through the evening’s affairs. This means that everyone will take turns with handling and watching.

“The blind draw works like this! You pick a station and get what you get. You cannot choose your own pet. You know where your pet is, so no tricky business.”

Peels of laughter erupted for his joke.

“Alright. Each pet has been numbered from one to ten. That number stays with them throughout the night and when everything is tallied, it will be the number your pet will be ranked with. Prizes will be awarded for ranks one, two, and three. The pet to place last will become the centerpiece of next week’s dinner party. Understood?”

A round of “Yeah!”, “Got it!”, and “Let’s get started!”, went up from the others in the room.

Suddenly that tenuous peace I had found was gone. What did “handling” mean? What would being the “centerpiece” of a dinner party entail? I didn’t want to know; I was sure of it.

“Everyone, pick a station!” The man announced jovially.

I could hear people shuffling about, laughter and playful arguing among them as the people chose their stations. When the sound of movement settled the director spoke again.

“Now, remember – masters start the game, but everyone has to take a turn out so that judges and myself – because like hell I’m getting left out,” he laughed, “get a turn. You have thirty minutes with your current pet, then the next fifteen minutes judges will switch out with you at each station and you will move to the waiting circle. When a judge leaves, you can take a new pet, but you cannot go to one you were just with, or your own. Got it? Good! Get those covers off!”

The sound of wooshing fabric filled the room and I felt the silk ripped off of me. For a moment I didn’t even know where to look, my head pointed at a wall. I could turn just enough to see there was another girl - dirty-blond with brown bunny ears, a hot pink ball gag, and a white fluffy tail to my right, and a man with a full dog mask and a whippy puppy tail to my left. They were both on similar contraptions as my own and posed in the same way.

My heart pounded and I could feel it in my ears as hands grabbed my ass and squeezed hard. I yelped and tried to pull away but couldn’t move at all. The hands moved up my back as the person moved around me. I strained trying to see who it was. I caught enough of a glimpse to know it was a man touching me, and that he was wearing crotchless pants. He was already getting hard and I whimpered thinking what he might do with me like this.

“Well, well,” he chuckled, and the voice made the hairs on my neck stand stiff. “Looks like I get to teach you how not to treat people.”

I twisted enough to look into the face of the obnoxious man from the café, Sam, and I swallowed hard. Anger and fear both warred in my belly. In this position there was nothing at all I could do, and he could do whatever he wanted.

Miss had warned me I wasn’t going to like this, I just hadn’t realized how much.