Chapter Eighteen
222 Words
Chapter Eighteen
Willie
With Miss Judy’s incessant tapping, I force myself to perform. I close my eyes and press, my abdominal muscles contracting to begin the commanded flow. So humiliating, yet I obey. Is it my bonds? My nakedness? Her stern hand holding up my collar? The mental trauma of having spent the afternoon crawling about to amuse a gaggle of odd women? What brings such obeisance?
And yet I feel a glow in responding to her, meeting her challenge, performing like a trained animal. What is this sensation?
The walking stick presses against my erection, adjusting the direction of my excretion. With eyes closed I did not realize the flow was streaming down the concrete wall of the garage. In feeling the effect of her hand, however indirectly, I open to gaze into the twinkling eyes of this curious woman. She is strong, exacting, and yet kind.
“Keep pressing until it’s empty, Willie. Yes, that’s a good boy.”
She speaks as if addressing a toddler during potty training. Authoritative, controlling yet motherly.
I am glad it is only she. Though noticeably intrigued, Miss Judy is not laughing evilly as with the others. As opposed to the abject degradation enjoyed by the likes of Miss Beverly, Miss Judy is tender and caring, applying the walking stick as an inducement for behavior, which is beneficial to my being.
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