Pet and Mistress Relaxing Sunday

"OK, then forget the bra but we can work something out," she says. Since she's local and not far away at all we work out that we can meet in the parking lot of a Walmart close to me.

I get my PVC raincoat and big floppy hat again. Checking that I have over $200 cash in my purse, I saunter into my slave's room to make sure she's OK.

My slave immediately bows low to the floor as I enter the room. I suppose she has been watching the HD lesbian bondage videos that I left streaming on the flat screen. It's Sunday. Even my slave is allowed free time. She crawls to me, dragging her ankle chain behind her, licks and kisses my shoes and begs "How may slave serve You my Mistress?"

I make a point of callously kicking her away with the toe of my oxfords.

"Relax slave," I state plainly, "Sundays we rest. Study the streaming videos, Drink and eat if you wish. I'll be back in an hour or two." She kneels back on her heels and watches the video. Her wrists locked near her collars make her look like a begging dog which I think is cute.

"I'll have to put a bucket or kitty litter pan or something in this room," I think. "I did not give her enough chain to reach the bathroom."

Hopping into my car, I mentally review that at the local Walmart I should look for a white Honda Civic. There might be dozens of those at any Walmart parking lot but she has a bright yellow plastic sunflower on her antenna. She's 67 years old with short gray hair. I hope there aren't too many women fitting that description but at least I know that her name is Marcie and her car will be in the back of the lot away from the store entrance. I hope all of this narrows down my search.

It's easy. As soon as I turn into the parking lot I see a white Honda with a bright sunflower on its antenna far away from all the other cars. I park next to it.

"Marcie? Hi, I'm Valerie," I say getting out of my car. Her window is half open. She hears me easily, smiles and nods.

The elderly lady steps out of her car. She's remarkably pretty for someone almost three times my age. Her hair is a cute bob that curls inward at the nape of her neck. Despite being gray, it looks quite chic. She's wearing a bit too much makeup for a Sunday at Walmart but I reflect that might be a characteristic common to subbies. I'm also amused that she's wearing a hot pink PVC raincoat that looks exactly like the one Sally has.

Marcie opens the rear door of her car and lifts a blanket. There's a pile of shiny steel neatly laid out as a display.

It's complete and perfect just as she said . Even the rubber lining of the parts look new. I pick up the bra and rub my thumb over the rubber lining. It feels slippery and see it has been shined recently with latex polish. The bra would fit me but I would never wear this thing and it would not even be close for my slave. I pick up the belt and try the key in the lock. It works smoothly.

"I can't use the bra but maybe I can sell it," I say. "How about $40?"

She looks disappointed. "I was hoping for more like $200. I live on a small fixed income," she admits sheepishly. "New ones like this are over $400 for just the belt and thigh bands."

Studying her face, I sense she really needs the money even though she does not want to part with this. I make more than the average household in the USA and I'm single. All sorts of thoughts run through my mind as I try to keep a poker face. A wave of sympathy overwhelms me. After all, I love subbies.

"OK, $200 it is," I concede as I pull four $50 bills from my purse.

She looks relieved and sad at the same time. A single tear rolls down her cheek as she wraps everything in the blanket to give to me.

I pull two $20s from my purse and hand them to her as she hands the package to me. "That's for polishing it so nicely," I murmur softly. "Damn!" I think, "So much for being the cold hard dominant!"

Marcie steps close and hugs me, not easy with my arms full.

"Thank you so much!" she sobs. "I hope that your slave appreciates your control over her. It's a beautiful experience."

After placing the package in the passenger seat of my car, I turn and smile, scribble my phone number on a scrap of paper and hand it to her.

"Call me. You should meet my slave," I offer. "You have too much spirit to be alone. Have you ever had a devoted 24/7 slave girl strive to give you pleasure? You simply must experience it."

Her mouth opens and closes wordlessly a couple times. I can sense the wheels turning in her head.

"I just might Valerie," she whispers, "or should I call you Mistress?"

"That remains to be seen Marcie," I answer with a grin. "but my slave would address you a Mistress in any event."

We both get in our cars to leave. Then I remember I need a kitty litter pan and drive to a spot closer to the store.

While buying the largest litter pan they offer and some Purina Tidy Cats litter plus two more pet food bowls with my credit card since I only have $3 cash left, I plan that a chastity belt and bra will be the perfect outfit for my slave if I ever take her out to a club. I go to lesbian clubs about every month. I certainly could not take a naked slave and would not disappoint her by giving her clothes. I'm hoping that steel locked on her would be acceptable as modest "clothing." There are several lesbian clubs near me in Washington DC and one is having a Halloween costume dance party named "Freak Out." I grin.

"I'll have to think about this more," I decide as I drive home. "Perhaps a corset dress might work. Maybe a one piece bustier. But mainly I want a small snack before dinner and will have to restrain my slave nicely so she can make something for me."

.... to be continued....