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More Stories
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I climb out of the cab carefully because my skirt is short
and I don’t want to confuse the driver. |
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‘Three days in Berlin.’ The Man lays his hand flat on my
cunt. ‘Three days
on your own.’ |
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It’s a comfortable cage. It really is. Big enough to stand up and walk around in. If I stretch my neck I can see a tree through the window. When I sit down I see nothing but the sky. Sometimes I hear children laughing and water splashing as they dive into a pond. Sometimes there is the swishing, popping sound of a tennis game being played in the sun. |
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Her corset is black velvet. Mine is purple silk. Both reach just below our breasts, supporting them to make them look full and welcoming. The corsets are the only garments he has allowed us to wear, except for the matching high-heeled boots. |
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The Man calls Sunday night. ‘I’ll see you on Wednesday. Until then, you be good.’ ‘I’ll try.’ ‘You better do more than try.’ ‘I will. Trust me, I will,’ I say – and after a pause I remind him: ‘The one time I didn’t, you used ginger until my cunt was the colour of red pepper.’ ‘Then it should be pepper next time,’ he laughs. |