Kick chase

“Toys aren’t supposed to act as if they have wills of their own.” For once she seemed genuinely annoyed. The shoes crushing my fingers against the floor were almost as harsh as her voice.

“You promised that when I wished you would submit yourself to me completely, no reservations, no second thoughts didn’t you?”

Gagged all I could do was nod.

“But you demand, demand, little man, that I bind you tightly before I use you as you offered yourself for use. Is that submitting?”

Best I could I tried to look like a baffled innocent. She would have none of that.

“Don’t try your ‘I’m sorry’ look. Not that you aren’t sorry. A sorry slave. A bad slave.”

Even though I knew it wouldn’t do any good I bent my head to the floor, hoping to look penitent. You get scared enough and you’ll always try the futile.

“You told me this pair of stilettos are the shoes you fear most. Before I’m done you’ll learn to fear not just them but me. And maybe focus your mind more clearly on pleasing me.”

“I’m going to kick you. You will scurry away. I will follow and kick you again and keep kicking you. But if you fail to move quickly enough my shoes will hit you harder.”

“The faster you run - if you are lucky - the less you’ll be hurt. Well, maybe. Be slow and you’ll wish you were faster.”

“Got the rules? Once you are black and blue and if you beg prettily enough I’ll stop. I don’t care. I’m not the one that’ll be in a hurry.”

I sat there frozen. Then a sharp point hit me in the rear. I ran but another followed.

I didn’t mean to say “Please I’ll be good, I’ll do whatever you want.” I just heard the words come out of my mouth.

And I heard the reply, “I’m sure you will. But we’re just warming up.” Her voice harshened, “By the time I’m done with you my worthless little bit of slave trash you’ll be ready to jump over the house if I order you to.”

A shoe pierced me sharply in the side of a thigh. As I tried to scurry out of target range another slammed into my side. I collapsed and rolled over. Looking up I saw the heartless smile of the woman I loved, her every feeling now concentrated on her toes.

When the next blow hit my stomach I’d already lost the ability to distinguish sharp front from sharp heel. I only wanted to flee but I knew that there was nowhere I could go where another wouldn’t follow.

I tried to drag myself away anyway.