Question time

She lay back on the couch. Legs stretched out with each calf resting on each of it’s bare shoulders, before crossing behind it’s head. It was on it’s knees below Her, wearing only a blindfold and collar. The centre of it’s sexuality locked in chastity. Key hidden only She knew where.

Vivaldi played. It darted it’s tongue in time with the flirting violins. She put down Her book, reached over and turned down the stereo. It knew to stop serving, looking around in the darkness, sometimes almost looking Her way.

“Question time, pet.”


“You’ve been my property for almost a year…”

She uncrossed Her legs, sliding one back towards Herself. It gulped.

“Never seeing me… You must be curious about what I look like?”

“Of course, Mistress.”

She pet it’s hair with Her foot. Rubbing Her toes soothingly above it’s ear.

“I’ve thought of a question about my physical appearance. If you ask it… I’ll give you the correct answer.”

It waited, occasionally brushing it’s lips against the skin of Her lower leg. After some thought:

“May I ask… What colour are your eyes, Mistress?”

She mulled this over for a moment. It kissed the side of Her knee twice.

“Wrong question, boi.”

It’s shoulders dropped. She crossed Her legs behind it’s head again. The further she crossed Her legs, the closer it was guided home.

“The correct question was… ‘How tall are you, Mistress?'”

It attentively served. She picked up Her book.

“Good boi… Keep it up… You might get another guess tomorrow…”

She turned the stereo back up.

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