Marty meets Mia and Charlie, Chapter 5, Part 8
It had been a relief to go down on Miss Kathryn (I had to stop thinking of her as Kate or else I might say it out loud, and I didn't know what punishment she might give for that) even if I got no direct relief myself. It was at least sexual and pleasurable and I had to be content with that.
And now I had free time, but OMG. The toolbox was damned heavy and damned awkward. I could sit on it carefully, with it across a chair, and that is how I sat on my desk chair at my computer. The seat of the chair was well padded, and that made the box unstable, but it was seemed to be the best I was going to get. Booting up and logging in took a couple of minutes, and after having burned five minutes to get fitted with the toolbox I really didn't have time to do much other than check my regular personal email accounts. There was banking to do and I didn't dare to use the excuse that it was personal time - Miss Kathryn seemed unlikely to take that story easily. I did take a minute to look in at my kinky email account, empty as usual, and then to check GetDare, but that was all. I had only a couple of minutes so I posted to a couple of threads on GetDare where I was sort of expected to respond, and added a note that I might be offline for a few days. About then Miss Kathryn came to put an end to my free time. As I heard her on the stairs I logged out. <SNAP>
"When you get up, put the toolbox away and come up to the kitchen." She just unlocked the cuff from the handle of the toolbox, and left. I waited a few minutes, wondering how long she was going to make me stay down. I know her far too well to think she forgot - she is testing me. Then I heard her on the stairs. "Good boy. Now get up," she said before turning to go back upstairs. I hoped she was going to get some food ready. I had not eaten much since yesterday and it was beginning to get to me.
A few minutes later I entered the kitchen. <SNAP> And so I got down and waited. Miss Kathryn waited a minute or two before speaking, "Get up. We are going to the bathroom so I can watch you. I will take off those handcuffs that are dangling between your legs, and you will have a dump. Or else. Mark my words," she said sternly, "you will get it out of you supposing I have to use ... extreme measures."
That didn't help me relax, not a bit. But when I went in the first floor bathroom, she directed me upstairs. "More room for me to watch," she said with a smirk. Now I was really tense. <SNAP> That was for her to unlock the cuffs. Then she tried to get my mind off my stressed intestinal system. "Up." <SNAP> "Up." <SNAP> "Up." <SNAP> "Up." <SNAP> "Up." <SNAP> "Up." <SNAP> "Up." <SNAP> "Up." <SNAP> "Nice workout, huh? Get down on your knees and elbows faster or we keep practising, this is your basic sign of instant obedience," she laughed. "Up." <SNAP> "Up." <SNAP> "Up." <SNAP> "Up." <SNAP> "Up." <SNAP> "Up." <SNAP> "That's better, now get up and get your butt on that throne."
I did, and she watched. Then she giggled as I flexed and worked my abs and my butt to try to get some relief. And then it came. She held her nose as she turned on the fan and kept on laughing. "Now show me how well you wipe. Finish the paperwork, and do it perfectly. If I find anything when I check you, you'll go back to the chair - and there's no food down there either." With the interrogation chair incentive I finished my load, and then wiped over and over, and really well. She just stood in the doorway laughing. I felt like I was ... what ... I couldn't even think of what but I suppose like an animal, a pet or something.
She didn't bother to check my butt. "Wash up really well, and come down to the kitchen and you can eat."
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