Her Whip Hand Ch. 05

After the whipping, I was left hanging by my wrists against the wall. Had Lesley left just momentarily? It was my hope that she had stepped out briefly, and that she would return, so that I could thank her for correcting me. As much as the lashing had left me in considerable pain, I felt proud for having stood up to it well.

As it turns out, I remained there in the dead silence of that basement room with nothing but the dim light from a lamp across the room to keep me company. As the hours passed, my shoulders began to ache and my legs were fatigued from supporting my weight. If I relaxed my legs to rest them, the leather thongs bit into my wrists. The time crept by slowly, and I could only sleep for a few minutes at a time, leaning against the wall, before I lost my balance and was jerked awake. I took some solace in knowing that now I had a Woman owner, and that I was in her home! This boosted my spirits to no small degree.

Eventually, I heard footsteps outside the door, and heard the lock turn. A moment later, Lesley was at my side. She released me from the metal ring I'd been tied to, though my hands were still bound.

"Come." she said, and I turned to followed her. I stumbled at first, since my legs were stiff from the long hours standing. I followed her up the stairs, happy to be away from my place of confinement, and to be once more in her company. She preceded me up the stairs. She wore white denim slacks and a mocha-colored, sleeveless top. Her blonde pony tail swayed against the nape of her neck as she walked. In spite of pain from the whipping, the aching of my muscles, and the lack of sleep, I thanked God that I was following meekly behind this beautiful woman.

I followed her down a hallway and we soon entered the kitchen. It was a spacious, well-appointed room with a tall ceiling and skylights. There was a stove such as you might see in a restaurant and a large, stainless steel refrigerator. Toward one end of the room was a table with chairs, and, across from the stove, a long counter with stools pulled up to it. She turned to me and untied my hands.

"There are dishes to be attended to. Take care of them, clean the countertops, the stove, sweep. After that, you can eat."

I felt a bit embarrassed standing there naked but for my kneepads. I must have looked a sight - unshaven, whip marks up and down the back of my body. But I also felt strangely at ease with it. Surely, I thought, this condition I was in was emblematic of my place in the scheme of things. As I busied myself with the tasks given me, I began to relish my position as the whipped dog, attending to the needs of my cool, aloof, exquisite lady-master.

Lesley took a seat at the counter. There was a laptop there, and she was soon absorbed in something online. At one point, she picked up her phone and made a call.

"Hey, Deb. How you doing?" she said, crossing her legs and swiveling back and forth on the stool, her coffee cup in her other hand.

I couldn't help but hear her side of the conversation, but I tried to look even busier than I was so as not to appear to be listening."Oh, did she, now? Ha! She's a wily one." Lesley said into the phone.

There was a long pause.

"You want details, do you?" Lesley said, laughing. "I think I've told you too much already. Don't go blabbing to her. We're still in the early stages." she said.

"But, so far so good, I'd say. He took it well, all in all."

Another pause ensued.

"Oh, really? You'd like an update? We'll see. Maybe in a day or two. Alright. See ya."

I had by then finished my chores, and knelt discreetly beside the stove. I watched as Lesley sipped coffee, looking at the laptop screen. I noticed with some alarm that I was becoming aroused as I knelt there. But what could I do? I held my hands in front of me, but this made matters worse. Soon, I had a full erection. Lesley folded down the screen and addressed me.

"You'll find a bowl of food in the refrigerator. Take it out."

I went about doing this. It made me nervous to not be hiding my genitals, but I had no choice. I found the bowl. It was a red, plastic dog dish and had something in it that looked like lasagna. I took it out, closed the door, and waited.

"The microwave is over there." Lesley said, indicating a countertop. "You can heat it up."

"Thank you, Ma'am." I said, happy to be able to turn my back towards her and hide my penis.

"Bring it over here." Lesley ordered when I'd finished, and I came to her side.

"On the floor." she said.

I placed the bowl on the floor and waited.

"Eat." she said, and I immediately lowered myself to all fours and began to quietly nibble at the food. I didn't want to incur Lesley's anger by making any unseemly noises .

When I was bringing the food back, I noticed that Lesley had placed a camera fitted to a small tripod on the countertop by her. A light was blinking on the front of it. When I commenced my meal, she picked up the camera and trained it towards me. I felt a certain alarm that a record was being made of my debased situation, but, at the same time, it thrilled me. I wondered if the video would be for her enjoyment only, or if I would be made to watch it as well. The prospect of seeing my whipped body crawling about Miss Lesley's kitchen appealed to me! And, I wondered, what if she were to share the footage with friends? Again, in contemplating this, I felt vulnerable. People I didn't even know might be watching me in my depraved state for their entertainment; for their amusement. In spite of this feeling of dread, I also felt arousal. Part of me, in fact, wanted Lesley's young female friends to be amused at my expense.

I finished my meal, licking the bowl clean. From the corner of my eye, I ventured a glance at Miss Lesley's feet as they rested on the rung of the stool, clad in tan low-top sneakers. How I wished to deliver soft kisses to them!

After washing my bowl and storing it under the sink, as instructed, Miss Lesley attached the leash to my collar and led me away toward the rear of the house. We entered her bedroom. Sunlight played upon the wood floors and on the bed. From the window I could see a nicely kept grassy area that led back to a woods. There was a lovely maple and some fruit trees. Miss Lesley removed the leash.

"Stay here." she instructed, then left. She returned with the camera which she placed on top of a chest of drawers. She pressed something on the front of it, and the light again blinked. I knelt at the foot of the bed, once again attempting to disguise my state of arousal.

"Move your hands, Pookie." she said, and I did so.

"Good boy. Now, face the camera."

I turned and looked into the lens.

"I'm going to interview you, Pookie." she said as she brought a chair from the corner of the room and placed it next to me.

"Before we get to that, though, let me show you something."

She got up from the chair and returned with the camera. She made some adjustment, then showed me the screen at the back of it. There I was, walking to the microwave with my dog dish of food. The sight of my back and buttocks took my breath away. There were red stripe going in every direction, some looking darker and more severe than others. On my buttocks there were two substantial welts - dark purple and slightly raised.

"Thought you'd like to see what we accomplished last night." Miss Lesley said nonchalantly.

I looked up into her eyes.

"Thank you for letting me be your dog, Miss Lesley." I said with emotion. Seeing the images moved me considerably. I would replay them in my mind many times over.

"So, what do you think?" she said, placing the camera back on the chest of drawers. I could see that the light was blinking. Miss Lesley crossed her legs at the knee, and her foot was inches from my face.

"i... well, Miss Lesley, it's hard to...

"Are you nervous because of the camera, little dog?"

"A bit." I confessed. Miss Lesley looked in the direction of the camera.

"This is my new dog, Pookie. Say hello, Pookie."

"Hello." I said, feeling myself blush.

"Is that how a dog says 'hello'?" she prompted.

"Arf!" I said. "Arf! Arf!"

"Good boy. Just relax. You'll be fine. Now, tell me a little about yourself, Pookie." Miss Lesley said, then leaned back in her chair.

I looked into the camera lens.

"I am a thirty eight year old man. I live alone." I began, feeling very self-conscious. "I'm the assistant manager of a grocery store." I said, hesitating.

"Go on." Miss Lesley said. "That was good. Are you less nervous now?"

"Yes, thank you, Ma'am." I said.

"Good boy." she said, then held her hand out towards me.

"You may kiss my hand." she said.

An exquisite feeling ran through my body as my lips came to rest on her warm skin.

"You can give it a few more." she said, and I savored the opportunity to be in further contact with her delicate hand. It was the same hand, I noticed, that had administered my whipping the night before.

"Now, little dog boy, tell me, what are all those marks on your body?"

"They are from the whipping you gave me last night, miss Lesley." I said.

Oh, yes. That's right. And how do you like the way you look today? Quite the change, isn't it?" she said, smiling.

"Miss Lesley, when you showed them to me on the camera, I felt proud. I felt as though a beautiful woman had shown me my place."

"Do you consider yourself to be a loser, Pookie?" she said offhandedly.

"Yes, I am a loser, Miss Lesley. I have no friends, and I have no one who loves me."

"Hmmmmm. Yes, it looks like you are definitely a loser. Why, you even see getting whipped by me as an improvement over that, I suppose."

"I do, Miss Lesley. It's the only way a woman like yourself would ever have anything to do with me. I'm pretty sure about that." I said, hanging my head, ashamed.

"That's true. For me, anyway. I wouldn't want to be seen with you in public, nor would I want my coworkers orr my friends to meet you. You'd be an embarrassment. But, fortunately for the both of us, I really, really like having a dogboy at home here. Looks like you got lucky!"

All this time, I had no pretense of hiding my erection. Miss Lesley glanced at it a few times while we talked, and this made it that much stiffer.

"Not everyone who is whipped and who is made to eat from a dog dish is happy about it. Don't you agree, Pookie?" Miss Lesley said, raising an eyebrow.

"No, Ma'am." I said.

"But you seem... well,... ahem... happy about it." she said, looking directly at my bobbing penis. I couldn't control it. It was dancing about excitedly. I hung my head.

"I guess that's what it's like to be a loser, though." she said, and I silently agreed with her.

"Now, little Pookie. For taking a good beating from me last night, and, by the way, I thoroughly enjoyed myself, I will give you a doggie treat! Are you excited?"

With this, miss Lesley stood, kicked off her shoes, and removed her pants. I nearly swooned at the sight of her beautiful, smooth legs. She came to me and draped one leg over my shoulder. Her pussy, clothed in blue cotton panties, was an inch or two from my face. I could smell it. I began to breathe heavily and irregularly. The warm, female odor from between her legs made me feel high.

"Do you like my cunt smell, little doggie?" she teased, rubbing her warm leg against my face.

Miss Lesley laughed and petted my head.

"You can kiss it. Through the panties, though. Go on. Don't be shy."

My face brushed against the soft skin of her thigh as I reverently bent to the blissful task of kissing the soft, redolent labia through the cotton fabric.