Sheriff’s in town

I had previously anticipated this Wednesday evening – a special session, one she had primed me for with the fear of punishment having ordered me to write down all my misdemeanours from the Sunday till that Wednesday night. I did so, although I failed to email her that list by midday Wednesday as she had also ordered. I paid for that forgetfulness later – although as it so happens I was at the post office picking up our new paddle when she texted me to let me know I had forgotten to send her the list. Ironic.

So I knew she’d bought something that she was planning to use that evening – something that “took a long time to set up”. I had no idea. I thought butt plug, strap-on … but I knew I was wrong, I knew I wouldn’t be able to guess.

I get home Wednesday around 6pm. A text message as I pull up ordering me to check the letter box. I do so, expecting to find the collar with a note that would require me to humilate myself even more than last time (did I mention a neighbour actually saw me putting the collar on for that other session). Not the case. Instead just a printed note (which you can see a bit of at the top of this blog post) … a Summons from the “court” ordering me to present myself for punishment for the crimes of speeding – a crime I had indeed confessed to in my manifest of misdemenours (which although I missed the deadline for I still ended up delivering).

I sidle on up to the door and knock nervously – and start giggling. She’s on the other side of the door, and also starts giggling. Doesn’t do much for setting the mood or me getting into my subbie role. Eventually we calm down and she lets me into the house. I walk into the room, she’s behind the door and closes it after me – and I turn around to see her dressed in a forest green police sherrif’s uniform – well, a variation of; a sexy single piece tight top and short skirt, complete with the sunglasses and fishnet stockings. Yum.

Up against the door I go and I’m ordered to strip off. Completely. Luckily she’s merciful enough to not launch straight into anything as I’d texted ahead to let her know I’d had a crap day at work and would appreciate some consideration. So she sends me off the shower – and I shower, while she stands in the bathroom and watches me. I feel a little self-concious.

Out of the shower, dry off. Into the lounge, naked. Forced to my knees. Hands cuffed behind my back.

“How many are you getting”

“19″

She alludes to the possibility that the “court” may be subject to … persuasion.

“What are you willing to do to get some taken off your tally?”

What does she mean? What can I do?

I kiss her feet.

“That’s one off. Anything else?”

Not that I can think of. So over the arm of the lounge I go, my legs spread, face down in the cushions.

She works me over with the floggers, riding crop (which she got me up to a nine with several times) and the new paddle. For the purposes of my punishment her hand and the new paddle contributed to the tally, so interspersed with other implements she slowly worked down through the 19. Off to the bedroom for the last few.

Afterwards, the cuffs came off and we cuddled :)