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Femdom Fitness by Tanya Sissipus Part 1 I had just tossed my headset down and was starting to pack things up when Dave came up behind me. "Hey, Brian -- when are you finished?" Since I already knew what was coming next, I deliberately continued shutting down my programs, killing them one by one with a simple click of the mouse. "About five minutes ago," I told him. He shuffled his feet and stared down at me with that nervous, doomed look he did so well. In the six months I'd been with the company, I don't think I'd ever seen him relaxed. "Would you mind staying a couple of hours?" He actually cringed as he said it, which suggested he was learning. "Even an hour would be great." "Nope. Sorry, but I've gotta go." With all the important programs closed, I did a control-alt-delete and logged off the office network. "Normally I'd love the overtime," I lied, "but I've got plans for tonight." One thing I had to say for Dave -- he was persistent. "Not even an hour?" "Can't do it, Dave." I rolled my chair away from the desk, forcing him to side-step out of the way. "I've got too many things to get done tonight." "Come on, just an hour." He watched as I zipped up my black bomber jacket and grabbed my knapsack, but still refused to give up. "It'd be a huge help." The first few times he'd badgered me like this, I'd actually felt guilty and had given in. The next few times I'd told him the truth -- that I simply didn't want to stay -- and he had continued begging all the way the elevators. Now, after enduring the same routine a hundred times, I'd learned that a quick and simple lie was the only way out. "Sorry, but I've got plans." Not giving him a chance to ask again, I began weaving my way through the office and slipped out through the nearest doorway. ----- Ten minutes later I was stepping out of the change-room at the gym, having exchanged my business attire for the comfort of a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. Located less than a block away from the office, the gym was the perfect place to stop after sitting behind a desk all day. Not only did it give me a chance to work out my frustrations, but it was also helping me to develop the kind of body I felt I should have been born with. A closet transsexual for most of my life, I'd only recently started getting serious about making the changes I needed to be happy. Of course, I knew it was going to take years of hormones and a lot of surgery to make that happen, but working out certainly helped. While it might not give me the breasts and vagina that my soul demanded, it WAS helping to trim my waist and thighs into a more feminine shape. And, if nothing else, it made me feel a little better about myself. To my surprise, the gym was pretty busy for a Wednesday night. Fortunately, there were still two Lifecycles available, so I hurried over to grab one before somebody else beat me to it. As I climbed onto the seat I made my usual selection -- a thirty-minute random hill profile -- but upped the difficulty level from 8 to 9. It looked like I might have some trouble finding another free machine later, so I figured I might as well burn a few extra calories now. Still, as I settled into the rhythm of the bike, I realized there were some advantages to working out in a busy gym -- and three of them were right before me. On the cross-trainer to my left was a beautiful brunette that I'd seen a few times before. Tall and slim, with the body of a pin-up model, she was the kind of girl who was strictly there to show off. Dressed rather provocatively in a pair of tight white shorts and a black cut-off shirt, she was always careful not to exercise too strenuously -- otherwise her little shirt might slide up and reveal those delicious little B-cup breasts. Also, whereas most girls tied their hair back to keep it from getting damp and matted, she wore hers long and loose, making her chestnut tresses fan out behind her as if she were on a photo-shoot. I was sure she'd look absolutely stunning with a little makeup, but that was pretty much where my interest stopped. My one attempt at casual conversation had been met with a sneer, and the last time I'd seen her she had stormed out in a huff after finding all the cross-trainers taken. Not exactly Miss Personality. By comparison, the woman on the stair-master next to her was an absolute angel. A petite, athletic beauty with nice little breasts and a tight ass, she was there every Monday and Wednesday night. Tonight she was wearing a black sports bra, matching spandex shorts, and a black leather baseball cap with her single braid of black hair dangling out the back. She had one of the tightest, toned, tanned bodies I had ever seen, and she certainly worked for it. Honestly, it was sometimes tiring just watching her, but she was never too busy or breathless to spare a friendly hello. We'd actually chatted a few times, but she was clearly out of my league. Of course, the fact that her boyfriend could probably bench-press me with one arm certainly didn't help! Still, she was somebody I could look up, and she was definitely an inspiration. Finally, jogging on the treadmill directly ahead of me was a woman I'd never seen before, but sincerely hoped would become a regular. She was a six-foot tall Amazon, dressed in a grey sports bra and matching sweat pants. A short coppery perm covered the top of her head, but it gave way to a curly ponytail that stretched all the way down to her incredible ass. At first, all I'd been able to see were her incredibly well-muscled arms and legs, which had me expecting some over-developed bodybuilder. When she turned to adjust the volume on her CD-player, though, I completely forgot myself and gasped in surprise. My gawd -- she was an Amazonian goddess with a classic hourglass figure! Not only could this woman crush me without a thought, but her magnificent 40DD breasts could just as thoughtlessly smother me. Her stomach was definitely of the washboard variety -- as I'd expected -- but her waist was almost waspish for her size. I was literally in awe, and the quick wink of her emerald green eyes told me she had noticed. I don't know what it was about her, but I found myself powerless to look away. It was as if that single backwards glance had cast some sort of spell over me. Physically, she was well out of my league, and she looked to be at least ten years older as well. While I might stare and admire a woman like that from time to time, I was never silly enough to think something might happen between us. So why was she so different? Certain I'd been mistaken about the way she'd winked at me -- I told myself it had probably just been sweat dripping into her eyes -- I shook it off and tried to concentrate on my book. Unfortunately, while I was used to stealing quick, admiring glances between chapters, even the magic of Clive Barker couldn't hold my attention tonight. Instead, my mind kept wandering towards the Amazonian goddess before me, with my eyes inevitably following. I admit, part of my attraction was based on pure fantasy. One look at this incredible woman and I couldn't help but wonder what kind of things she'd make me do. Physically, I knew I'd be powerless to resist her whims, and that was an incredibly arousing thought. A much larger part of my attraction, though, was based on a deep respect for what she represented -- beauty ... strength ... power ... presence. Much like the Amazon warriors of legend, she struck me as the kind of woman who could demand anything, but who would prefer to earn it. When my machine started beeping to signal the end of my routine, I was sure I had done something wrong. There was no way thirty minutes could have elapsed already, but that's precisely what had happened. Instead of gritting my teeth through the last ten minutes, as I usually did, I'd breezed right through without noticing it. Not only that, but I'd burned an extra eighty calories too! My legs were a little unsteady as I climbed off the bike, but I wasn't sure if it exhaustion or nerves. I had to walk right up beside my coppery-haired goddess to grab a rag for wiping down my machine, and I was sure she'd say something about my staring. Of course, part of me was hoping she'd say something, but that just made things more confusing. "Hello." As I turned to return her greeting, I thanked my lucky stars for the fact that I was sweating. Otherwise, she would surely have noticed the instant blush that washed over my face. "Hi." "So," she asked, "do you usually go so long on the bike?" "Um, yeah." I could literally feel the heat in my cheeks now, and it had nothing to do with physical exhaustion. "I do a lot of riding in the summer, so I like to keep in practice." "I figured as much -- you've got great legs." She jabbed at the stop button on the treadmill and coasted to an easy halt. "Mind handing me a towel?" "No problem." Regretting the fact that I'd never been very good at small-talk, I asked her, "Do you usually work out here? I don't think I've ever seen you in here before." She shrugged, giving me a close-up glance at just how firm her breasts were. "I used to work out across town, but I got sick of all the college guys hitting on me. " "Oh." Gawd, I wanted to kick myself! I'd let my fantasies delude me into thinking there was more to her 'hello' than just a friendly greeting, and now she was giving me the polite brush-off I deserved. "Well, hopefully you' ll find things here a little more to your liking." With that, I bit my tongue and headed back to the bike. I was too embarrassed to risk meeting her eyes again, so I took my time wiping it down and hoped she'd finish first. "You know, you really should think about working on your upper body more." Suddenly she was leaning against the bike next to mine. "You've got such great legs, it seems a shame to stop there." Grinning like an absolute idiot, I shrugged. "I'm not really interesting in looking like some huge, muscle-bound freak." Realizing too late what I'd just said, I cringed. "Not that there's anything wrong with that," I stammered, "but some people carry it off better than others. I mean, on you it looks absolutely gorgeous, but I think I'm more suited to thin and athletic." I shook my head and laughed. "Please, feel free to hit me at any time." "Maybe later." To my relief, she chuckled softly. "In the meantime, let me show you one thing. I promise, it'll just take a minute, and if you aren't interested I won't bother you about it again." She grabbed my book and stepped away from the bike with one fluid, graceful motion. "Come on, it'll be good for you." Unable to believe my luck, I tossed the towel back into the bin and followed her into the weight room. I'd ventured in there a few times before, but I had no idea what most of the machines were for, much less how to use them. So, even if she was just offering some friendly advice, it certainly couldn't hurt to listen. Having led me into the farthest corner of the room, she pointed to a padded black bench. "Lie down here," she said, "with your knees beneath the weights and your head nearest the wall." Following her directions, I squirmed into position until my legs were dangling over the bottom edge. "Like this?" Suddenly, before I knew what was happening, she swung one leg over the bench and straddled my chest. For a moment, I was afraid she was going to hit me after all, but the smirk on her face suggested differently. "I know what you want." Before I could so much as open my mouth to ask what she meant, my Amazonian captor lifted her legs and planted one foot on either side of my head. Directing my gaze with a few subtle nudges of her off-white sneakers, she cupped her DD breasts and grinned. "Oh yes, I know exactly what you want. You ... want ... these." "What?" I strained to shake my head, but couldn't even manage to overpower her tiny feet. "Look, I'm sorry for staring at you earlier. I know it was rude, and there's no excuse for what I did, but I meant no offence. It's just you're so beautiful that ... well, I honestly couldn't help myself." I cringed as her feet squeezed a little tighter. "Okay! I'm sorry. Next time I promise to show a little more restraint." "Don't play innocent with me," she chastised. "It's refreshing to hear a boy who understands the value of respect, but you know that's not what I meant." Shifting backwards a couple of inches, she reached down and pinched my nipples until I yelped in pain. "You wished these looked like mine, don't you?" "I ... I don't know what you're --" "Do NOT lie to me." A scowl on her face, she lifted her feet and spun around until I was staring at her back. "Now, I'm already sure that you're wearing panties, I'm just curious as to what colour." A second later I heard her unzipping my shorts, followed by the sound of her delighted laughter. "Vivid purple satin, French cut, with lace waist band -- very nice." Without zipping me back up, she spun the rest of the way around and stared me in the eye. "Now, do I have to take off your dirty little shoes, or are you going to tell me what colour nailpolish you're wearing?" "Blue." I blurted it out without thinking. "Blue?" She glanced back over her shoulder, then captured my gaze again. "Just blue?" "Um ..." I swallowed loudly as I wracked my brains for the proper name. "Cosmic Blue." Not sure how much she wanted to know, I added, "From ... ah, Cover Girl. "Good." She seemed to think about it for a minute, then added, "Yes, that will do just fine." Just like that she climbed back off of me, zipped up my shorts, and tossed my book down on my chest. "Starting tomorrow we are going to begin shaping you into the sissy girl we both know you need to be. I will meet you here at 5:30. Is that understood?" Too amazed to speak, I nodded instead. "Good. DON'T be late." With that, she turned and walked away, leaving me in a state of total shock. In the space of five minutes she'd revealed my most personal secrets, decided for herself what should be done about them, and effortlessly compelled me to agree. Completely stunned by the bizarre turn of events, I watched until she disappeared around the corner, then collapsed back onto the bench and just shook my head. Part 2 "Hey, Brian ... that call go okay?" "Uh, yeah." Distracted by the clock on my PC -- which seemed to be taunting me with its 5:32 PM display -- I scrambled to zip up my gym-bag with one hand while signing my time sheet with the other. "Whatever you're going to ask," I told him, "forget it." "Come on, man." He sounded desperate, but I was too preoccupied to care. "We've got like 40 calls in the queue, and word just came down that-" "Look, I'm late as it is. Not tonight." Content to leave it at that, I jumped out of my chair, nearly knocking him into the wall with my gym-bag. Too frantic to even apologise, I yanked my coat out of the closet as I passed, then raced for the stairs. Sure, it was six flights down, but catching the elevator could be a bitch when quitting time came around. ----- By the time I flew into the gym it was nearly twenty-to-six, but there was nothing I could do. While my last call had finished up well before 5:30, it had been one of those annoying issues that required a lot of paperwork after the fact. I'd raced through it as quickly as I dared, but bureaucracy was something that not even my Amazonian Mistress could defeat. She was nowhere in sight when I got there, but that didn't exactly fill me with confidence. I mean, what if she'd already come and gone, having given up on me? What if I'd missed my one and only chance to fulfil both my dreams of femininity and submission? Or, worse yet, what if she was waiting inside, already pumped and sweaty and ready to punish me? Too nervous to do anything myself until I knew for sure, I tossed my jacket and gym-bag in my locker, then set out in search of her. I started with a quick peek into the women's aerobics room -- a peek I was too anxious to properly enjoy -- followed by a tour of the weight-room. After more than a few strange looks from the bodybuilders there, I finished up in the cardio-room where we'd first met. Unfortunately, things looked pretty quiet tonight, which meant there was no chance I'd simply overlooked her in the crowd. She simply wasn't there. By now it was almost 6:00 and I was frantic with worry. Could she have been toying with me all along? Had my own craving for femininity made me so vulnerable that I was unable to recognise her game? My gawd, what if this had all been a set-up, a cruel joke to teach me a lesson for staring at her? She had seemed okay with it last night, but ... "So, have you been waiting long?" Startled, I spun around to see my coppery-haired goddess standing before me. She was wearing a tight faux-fur coat that beautifully accentuated her curves, along with high-heeled black leather boots that were still dripping with snow. Even in her basic winter garb, she was a marvellous vision to behold. "N-N-No," I stammered. "I mean, a little while, but I don't mind." She grinned, as if I'd just said something so obvious that it wasn't worth commenting upon. Slowly, sensually, she removed her black leather gloves one finger at a time. "Tell me -- were you on time?" Strangely, it never occurred to me to lie. It had only been a matter of minutes, but it was the principle of the thing. I didn't even know her name, yet I'd made a commitment to this woman -- emotionally and spiritually -- and it had already taken hold of me. "I ... I was about ten minutes late," I admitted. "Please forgive me, but I was unable to get out of work any earlier." She just nodded, as if she'd know all along -- and, for all I knew, she probably did. As I watched, curious and nervous and excited all at once, she knelt down to unzip her own gym-bag. From it she pulled a pink shopping bag, emblazoned with the name of a local woman's fashion boutique, and tossed it to me. "Get dressed, then start yourself on the bike. I'll meet you whenever I feel like it. Understood?" I nodded. Before I could take more than a few nervous steps, she asked, "By the way, what colour T-shirt did you bring today?" Distracted by thoughts of what might be in the pink shopping bag, I actually had to think about what I'd packed that morning. Finally, I answered, "Grey. Light grey, I think." "Hmm ... yes, that will do nicely." With that, she waved me onwards, then turned for the women's change room. I watched her for a long moment, admiring the graceful beauty of her Amazonian physique as she sauntered down the hall. Her body seemed to dance beneath her coat, swaying slightly with each powerful, sexy step. She hadn't yet tied her hair back in the familiar ponytail, so I was lucky enough to admire the soft bounce of her coppery locks. Gawd, she was even more stunning than I remembered, and I had the sense that she hadn't yet showed me her best. I dared not stare for long, though. Instead, I quietly slipped into the men' s change room and sat myself down in the corner, away from prying eyes. Shielding my mysterious gift with my body, I peeked inside to find a pair of black spandex shorts, a hot pink sports-bra with black trim, and a matching pink and black hair-band. My first thought was one of gratitude and excitement, but I had only a brief moment to enjoy it before fear set in. Long hair, painted toenails, a well-shaved body, and cute little A-cup breasts made changing and showering amidst strange men difficult enough. I constantly had to watch where I stepped, how I moved, and what direction I faced to protect my secret. None of the guys had made a fuss so far, but that didn't mean my peculiarities had gone unnoticed. All of that would surely change, though, if I were caught slipping into the treasures before me. Nevertheless, it was clearly what my beautiful trainer desired, so I took a deep breath and slowly began untying my shoes ... ----- "Three more ... two more ... one more ... yes." Although I could barely see through my sweat-streaked glasses, I could hear the satisfaction in her voice. We'd been working out together for almost two hours -- twice as long as I was used to -- and I felt like I was going to die. My legs were throbbing, my arms were on fire, and it felt like somebody had punched me in the gut. All I wanted to do at that moment was crawl into and corner and sleep for a week. After, of course, thanking my Amazonian Mistress for pushing me harder than I could ever have managed alone. "Here." Kneeling down on the plain, concrete floor beside the rowing machine, she brought a water bottle to my lips and encouraged me to, "Drink up, but slowly. Little sips." After I'd swallowed enough to take the edge off of my exhaustion, she handed me the bottle and smiled. "Keep this up and you'll have the body you desire in no time." Still tasting the strange, almost medicinal sports-drink, I nodded. "Thank ... thank you. That was probably the most intense experience of my life, but I'm glad you pushed me through it." I started to get up, but thought better of it when my legs began to wobble. Sitting back down, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirrored wall, shocked by how pale I looked. "How," I began, pausing for another much-needed drink, "am I to thank you for all this?" "Oh, you'll have plenty of opportunities to show your gratitude -- don't you worry about that." Sweating fairly heavily herself, she wiped herself down with my towel, then tossed it playfully in my face. "Assuming, that is, you last the week." Having caught the towel with my free hand, I held it to my face for an extra couple of seconds as I inhaled her intoxicating musk. Part of me felt guilty for taking such bizarre pleasure, but I couldn't help myself. "I may have to crawl out of here by Friday," I grinned, "but I will not fail you." My mouth wanted to keep going, but I had no idea what to say. I mean, it felt so awkward not knowing how to address her. I wanted to add 'Mistress' or 'Goddess' at the end of every sentence to show my respect. Things right now sounded too casual, and ... well, I felt she deserved more from me. Unfortunately, I couldn't summon the courage to ask her name, and I didn't want to risk embarrassing her with such verbal submission. "Well, I think that's enough for today." She allowed me one last swallow, then retrieved the water bottle. "Make sure you get lots of rest tonight, because you'll find tomorrow even harder to get through." Nodding, I eased myself off of the rowing machine and nearly staggered across the room, my eyes glued to her perfect, spandex covered ass. I knew I was staring again, but at this point I honestly couldn't help it. Suddenly, she stopped, and it was all I could do to keep from walking right into her. "It just occurred to me that I don't know your name." She stared down at my sweat-drenched body for a few seconds, then smiled. I knew she was smiling at my bra, which had seemed fairly inconspicuous until I'd begun to sweat, but it wasn't the mocking smile I had expected. "You'll be tanya from now on. That's tanya, with a lowercase 't.' Understand?" Unsure of what to say, I nodded. "Good. And as long as we're in public, you may call me Diana." She smiled again at the glimmer of hope in my eyes. "If you last the week ... well, let's just see if you can last the week." "Thank you, Diana." As I said it, a great weight seemed to lift from my weary shoulders. All my worries, fears, and uncertainties about her were gone. Somehow, the exchange of names seemed to consummate our relationship, proving it wasn't just a bizarre game. "I won't let you down. I promise." ----- To my surprise, our Friday session went much easier than I'd expected. Of course, I still felt like I was going to die, but I felt like I had enough strength left to perish at home, rather than in the nearest corner. Not only that, but I could already feel my body changing, adapting to my Amazonian training regime. My breathing wasn't quite as laboured, my legs felt a little lighter, and -- maybe it was my imagination -- but my bra did feel a little tighter. Unfortunately, Diana didn't seem to be fairing quite so well. It seemed as if she'd been taking it easy for most of the night, and that wasn't like her. One of the many things that I admired about her was they way she always trained right alongside me, often pushing herself harder than I could ever dream. Tonight, though, it was as if she'd hit a wall after about thirty-five, forty minutes. What really had me concerned, though, was the way she seemed to be favouring her left leg. I hadn't wanted to mention it earlier -- I hadn't even been sure -- but I'd been watching her pretty carefully for the past hour. She was definitely resting all of her weight on her right side, and whenever she started to sweat she made a habit of rubbing her hands down her left leg. Maybe it was just a coincidence, but there was also a tightness around her eyes that made me think it was something more. Swallowing loudly, I looked over and asked, "Diana?" She smiled, as if nothing was wrong. "Let me guess -- you want to go again, right?" I chuckled softly, flattered that she found me worthy of some casual, joking banter. "Actually, I was worried about you. Please forgive me if I'm out of line, but I noticed you seem to be favouring your left leg." I didn't know if she allow me to touch her -- it was an honour I didn't feel I'd yet earned -- but I couldn't stand seeing her in pain. "Is ... is there anything I can do?" For a moment, she just sat there and stared. Had I done something wrong? Was I not supposed to mention her weakness? My gawd, I had just wanted to help, and here I'd gone and offended her. This was all so new to me, and I didn't feel like I was doing a very good job of proving myself worthy. However, before I could apologise, she saved me the trouble. "You noticed that?" She brushed a stray, coppery tangle of hair from her eyes and smiled. "Just as I am beginning to think you might be worth my time after all, I find that I may have actually underestimated you." Suddenly, she swung around and laid her leg across my own. Demonstrating with her long, slender fingers, she told me to, "Rub the back of the calf, lightly, and in a circular motion." Delighted to obey, I replaced her purple-painted nails with my own frosty-pink and began. Once again, my Amazonian Mistress had some surprises to offer. While I could feel the raw power of her muscles beneath my touch, her skin was softer and smoother than I'd ever felt in my life. For some reason, I hadn't expected to find the two extremes together -- although, in hindsight, I don't know how I could have expected any less. Unable to resist, I hunched over a bit to take a closer look. Not only were her legs completely hairless, but there wasn't even the faintest sign of stubble. While it was possible she had just shaved before hitting the gym, I felt it was too out of character for her. She came to the gym to work out, not to show off -- although she had enough natural beauty to do both! I didn't know whether it was waxing, sugaring, or electrolysis, but the effect was magnificent. I only hoped she might someday share her secret with me. "My ... my ... my." While I continued to rub, Diana reached out and plucked the sweat-streaked glasses from my face. "Why didn't you tell me you had such lovely green eyes? Shame on you for hiding them behind a pair of glasses." She leaned back against the cool, brick wall and nodded softly. "Yes ... I think we're going to have to fit you with some contacts. Assuming, that is, you still wish to continue with our arrangement?" "Yes! Of course!" My first instinct was to drop to my knees and beg her approval, but I still had a job to do. Having discovered the tightness behind her calf, I was methodically rubbing and squeezing it away as I talked. "I am yours," I promised, "for as long as you find me worthy of your attentions." She laughed, but it was a pleasant laugh -- not mocking or cruel at all. "But, my dear tanya -- you hardly know me." "Yes, but you seem to know me better than I know myself." Shrugging softly, I looked into her emerald eyes and confessed, "I can't explain it, but I've admired you since I first laid eyes on you. And, in the past week, I've come to trust and respect you as well. It may not makes sense, but ... well, I don't need anything more than that." Once again, she just smiled as if I'd stated something so obvious that no response was required. "Well, I think it's about time for us to hit the showers." Carefully sliding her leg out of my grasp, Diana slowly put all her weight on it and smiled. "Hmmm ... it'll be interesting to see what you can do with some proper instruction and practice." If somebody had come by at that moment and told me I'd won the lottery, I couldn't have been happier. Absently rubbing her leg, my Amazonian Mistress said, "I think I'll take my time in the shower and let the hot water finish what you started. Of course, you won't mind waiting, will you?" "W-w-waiting?" She nodded. "Yes. So you can drive me home." Surprised as I was, all I could manage to do was croak, "Home?" "Well, how else are you going to find out where I live?" There was a mischievous smile on her full, red lips. "Where ... where you live?" Brushing a crimson curl from her eye, she winked my way. "That's assuming, of course, you still wish to show your appreciation for all that I've done." Apparently, the look of utter astonishment on my face was enough, for she simply chuckled softly and sauntered off towards the showers. Taking a moment to pinch myself -- this was real, all right -- I hurried off to do the same. Part 3 "-- have the kick-ass title track from AC/DC's latest, along with a little classic Metallica ... from the 'S&M' album. Oh, baby! Get ready to scream along and wake up the neighbours, 'cause this is --" On any other morning I would have taken a groggy slap at the alarm clock and buried my head back under the pillow. Eventually, I would have cracked my eyes open and groaned about how early it was, then cursed whatever it was that made waking up necessary. I had never been a morning person, and getting up at 5am on a weekend wasn't exactly my idea of a great way to start the day. However, the irony of waking up to a little 'S&M' cut through the fog of sleep and put a lazy smile on my face. Besides, this morning I had every reason to WANT to get up and out of the house ... and her name was Diana. I rolled out of bed with a satisfied yawn and shuffled over to the closet to grab my things. Snapping a fresh blade into my razor, I grabbed my can of shaving gel, snatched up my hairbrush, tossed a clean T-shirt over my shoulder, and hurried off to the shower. Part of me wanted to take my time and enjoy it -- as much as I hated shaving my face every morning, I embraced the weekly ritual of shaving my legs as something to be savoured. The rest of me, though, was eager to get out of the house and on my way to show Diana just how grateful I was for everything she'd done. It was, of course, my devotion to my Amazonian Goddess that won out. ----- Less than an hour later I parked my little white Pontiac in front of Diana's house and hurried around to the back door. When I reached the corner of the house, though, I stumbled to an awkward stop and just stared at the scene before me. I don't know what I had been expecting -- her house looked like any other small, suburban home from the front -- but it certainly wasn't this. The entire backyard was contained in an immense greenhouse, the glass walls of which reached so high they seemed to be an extension of the house itself. Pressing my face to the glass, I could see a full-sized in-ground pool, complete with a low diving board at one end. There was even an inflatable couch floating in the centre and a beach ball stuck in the far corner. Around the pool itself was a narrow stone path -- barely wide enough for one person -- with an endless flower garden eating up the rest of the space. It was beautiful, idyllic, and possessed a serene kind of otherworldly innocence that I hadn't expected ... but which immediately seemed appropriate. After all, my Amazonian Goddess was a woman of magnificent complexity, so it should have come as no surprise that her home reflected that diversity as well. "Something tells me I had better start honing my gardening skills," I mused silently. Smiling at the thought, I slipped inside the greenhouse and tiptoed my way around the nearest edge of the pool. As I reach down to open the backdoor I found a note waiting for me: "tanya, I have left my spare key at the bottom of the pool for safekeeping. Once you have retrieved it, you may let yourself in and use the towel behind the door to dry yourself off. You may then toss it down the laundry chute with your wet clothes and quietly make your way to the kitchen. I will leave further instructions there. Your Goddess" As I read that last line, I desperately tried to remember if I had ever used those words with her. Silently, I had always thought of Diana as my Amazonian Goddess, but had I actually said as much to her? I didn't think so -- in which case, it suggested that our meeting was more than just a coincidence. I'd never been one to believe in fate, but where she was involved I could believe just about anything. Suddenly, it was as if the unseasonable warmth of her greenhouse were pressing down upon me, slowly suffocating me into obeying her instructions. A puddle of melted snow was quickly gathering around my feet, and my fingers were still stiff from the cold, but inside my jacket I was drenched with sweat. Before I could shrug out of my jacket, though, I took a second look at her note: " ... toss it down the laundry chute with your wet clothes ..." I wasn't sure if she meant to include my jacket and boots in that statement, but I didn't yet feel comfortable enough to interpret her wishes. Of course, I could always ask, but that would mean waking her prematurely -- something I couldn't do. In the end, I decided it would be better to look silly than to risk offending her. So, taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes and dove into the pool. ----- "Damn. I have no idea whether she prefers her toast plain, or with something on top. Maybe I should put a little jam or something on the side of the plate, just to be safe." Unsure as to Diana's tastes, I shrugged my shoulders and grabbed the jar of strawberry jam from her fridge. Leaving it next to the toaster, I turned back to the kitchen table and sat down to read through her instructions again: "tanya, While you may dispense with the swim in the future, I expect you to remember the details of this morning's ritual. At no time shall you enter my home wearing anything more than the collar you should be wearing now." Self-consciously fingering the one-inch strip of pale blue velvet around my throat, I continued reading: "Your first stop inside my home shall always be the kitchen, where you will find your outfit for the day. I expect you to pay special attention to what is laid out for you, as it shall indicate both my mood and my intentions for your visit. While I may mix and match your outfits from time to time, you can always count on the following basics. Firstly, lace and satin lingerie -- such as you had better be wearing now -- means I wish to be pampered. Such a day shall always begin with breakfast in bed, so I suggest you learn my tastes quickly. As for the rest of the day, think soft ... tender ... sensual ... and you will know what I expect. Second, casual wear -- which you shall work particularly hard to earn -- means I expect to share the day with a girlfriend. Be prepared for anything from a little girl-talk, to an afternoon of shopping, to an evening of club hopping. I'm sure some of these ideas strike terror into your heart now, but you will come to crave such adventures. Finally, fetish wear -- leather, latex, PVC, nurse's & maid's uniforms, etc. -- means I expect to be pleasured, and pleasured well. Be your most docile, submissive, obedient, feminine self and expect absolutely anything." Just then, the toast popped, denying me the opportunity to really think about what I'd gotten myself into. Not that it would have made a difference -- I meant it when I said I would do anything to show my gratitude -- but I was feeling somewhat overwhelmed. It was a lot to absorb in one morning, and I was terrified of slipping up or making a mistake that might cost me my Amazonian Goddess' trust. Quickly, I buttered her toast, pooled a little jam on the side of the plate, and poured her a fresh cup of coffee. I knew I was rushing things a bit -- for instance, I would have preferred to neatly arrange the orange slices around her toast -- but I wanted to get everything to her while it was still warm. So, allowing myself a moment to nervously adjust my baby blue peignoir, I stepped into my matching heels and prepared to serve Diana her breakfast in bed. ----- "Good morning, D-" catching myself a fraction of a second too late, I hastily amended, "Goddess." My hands were trembling as I approached the bed, but I managed to lay the tray down over her legs without spilling anything. Taking a careful step back I curtsied politely. "I ... I hope everything is to your liking." An enigmatic smile on her face, she propped a pillow behind her back and scooted back into a sitting position. Pulling the navy blue comforter down until it just barely covered her nipples -- a momentary glimpse of large, dark aureole was all I was allowed -- she took a sip of her coffee and said, "So far, so good." With that, she picked up one of the orange slices and slid it slowly, almost seductively, into her mouth, then licked her fingers clean. "Mmmmmmm." I knew she was toying with me, putting on a show to see how I'd react, but I was too nervous to really appreciate it. Was I supposed to arrange the pillow for her? What if she preferred margarine to butter on her toast? Did she really like her coffee black, or was she ignoring the cream and sugar I' d brought up with me because it was my job to prepare her coffee properly? I had so many questions, so many doubts, but I didn't know how to ask. As she slipped another orange slice between her lips, she shook her head softly. "tanya, that deer-in-the-headlights look you have going on is cute, but you'll have to get over it." Chuckling softly, she told me, "Respect ... obedience ... submission ... perhaps a little nervous awe is okay, expected even. However, you're not going to be much use to me if you're constantly in fear of your life." I lowered my head in shame and knelt next to the bed. "I am sorry, Goddess." Suddenly overwhelmed by the scent of her perfume, I sighed in contentment. "It's just that this is all so new to me, and I want everything to be perfect." "Nothing is perfect, tanya." "I know, but perfect is what you deserve." Anxiously rubbing the back of my hand, I told her, "You've done more for me than I have any right to desire, and you've never asked for anything in return. I mean, you graciously allowed me to come and show my gratitude today, but it wasn't something you demanded of me." Just then I paused, a curious revelation dawning upon me. It took a moment to understanding for sink in, but then I looked up at her and smiled shyly. "That's the whole point, isn't it, Goddess? It's just like you said in your letter -- sometimes you want a kinky fetish slave, but other times you just want some companionship. By giving me some freedom to please you, you've learned more about me in just a few days than years of barking orders and watching me obey could ever provide." My Goddess enjoyed a long sip of coffee, then graced me with another warm smile. "Very good, tanya. Keep this up and I just may decide to keep you around." A pink blush spread across my cheeks as I looked down at the carpet again, but she just laughed. "Now, why don't you take care of my toes while I finish my breakfast? You'll find the nail-file and polish on top of my dresser. Pick something bright, but soft, and take your time. I like my nails to look their best." Relieved, I curtsied again before turning to obey. ----- "tanya?" Having just lit the final candle, I jumped to my feet and scurried to the bathroom door. As I turned out the lights, I assured her, "All is ready for you, Goddess." "Very good." Filled with a nervous excitement the likes of which I had never experienced before, I opened the door and waited for my Amazonian Goddess to join me. Once I'd painted both her toes and fingers she had sent me back downstairs to clean up the kitchen while she waited for her nails to dry. Upon my return she'd then had me put one of her aerobics tapes in the VCR and dismissed me to prepare her bath. The tub itself was big enough to fit two people comfortably, so it had taken quite a while to fill -- especially since I had to pause near the end and wait for the hot water to build up again. I'd had to add three times the amount of bubble bath I normally used at home, and even then you could barely detect the lavender scent. It turned out that wasn't as big a concern as I'd feared, though, for the two dozen candles situated around the tub were scented themselves. Once they were lit, the combined effect was both calming and arousing, although I'm sure the arousal was more of my own doing than anything else. Now, nearly fifteen minutes later, she was ready for her bath and -- fortunately -- it was ready for her. Dressed only in a black dressing gown, my Goddess stepped into the bathroom and closed the door behind her. Pausing before me, she said, "You may let my hair down first, tanya." "Yes, Goddess." As I stepped forward, the sweet, pungent scent of her musk washed over me. Feeling guilty -- but unable to stop myself -- I took a deep breath and savoured her scent before starting on her hair. One by one I removed the clips from her hair, freeing those damp, silky tresses from their elegant prison. Feeling all that luxurious hair wash over my hands aroused me even more, but I forced myself to concentrate on the task at hand. When I finished, she stretched out her arms and waited for me to remove her gown. At first, I paused -- I didn't feel worthy of gazing upon her naked form -- but I just reminded myself that it was what she wanted. Physically trembling, I took the soft terrycloth material between my fingers and slowly peeled it away, stepping back as I did so to make it easier on my Goddess. The instant her naked beauty was revealed, I forced myself to turn away and hang her robe over the back of the door. "tanya?" "Yes, Goddess?" I swear I could hear her smiling. "Turn around, tanya." Nodding once, I took a deep breath and did as she commanded. "Wow." Eyes wide, mouth gaping, and palms sweaty, I gasped in wonder. While I knew I hadn't yet seen her at her best, not even my own fantasies were adequate preparation for the vision before me. She was so intensely beautiful, had such a wondrous glow to her, that I was almost willing to believe she WAS a Goddess. Her six-foot Amazonian frame was even more well developed than her gym clothes had hinted at, with nary a stretch mark, freckle, or visible vein to mar her perfect flesh. I had expected some physical sign of transformation, some evidence of her gruelling workout regime, but it was as if she'd been born into her beauty. Even her 40DD breasts looked perky and fresh, appearing to float upon her torso rather than droop and sway. On any other woman I'd have said that was a sign of implants, but I instinctively knew my Goddess needed no such medical enhancement. "So," she said, snapping me out of my trance, "I take it you approve?" I immediately dropped to my knees and bowed my head. "Please forgive me, Goddess. I know you gave me permission to look, but that's no excuse for the way I acted. It's just-" "Hush." She reached down, took a handful of my thick, dark hair, and yanked my head back. "I want you to look ... to admire ... to worship my body with your eyes." An amused smile on her face, she promised, "The glaze in your eyes provides a more honest reflection than a mere mirror could ever offer. Do NOT deny me that." Now that I understood my role a little better I was able to return her smile. "You may count on me for that, Goddess." "Very good." Chuckling softly, she released me and made her way over to the tub. "Now, get undressed and join me in the tub. You may wash me as I relax." "Yes, Goddess!" For the next half-hour I soaked next to my Goddess, washing and caressing her magnificent body with an almost religious passion. I started with her perfect, dainty feet, massaging the lightly wrinkled soles while I paid special attention to the red, tender patch of skin beneath her left ankle. Next I made my way up her legs, luxuriating in the feel of her smooth, hairless, unblemished flesh. There was a nervous, awkward moment when I approached the top of her thighs, but she diverted my attention with one brief, powerful squeeze. She barely even flexed her muscles, but that scissors-action was enough to make me flinch in discomfort. After that I took my time washing her stomach, reached around to do her back, let my hands climb up to her neck, and then ran them back down both her arms. While just being near her had me riding a constant wave of physical and emotional arousal, I was very careful to avoid anything that might be considered intimate. Until, that is, she directed my attention to her wondrous breasts. "Be very careful with my bouncing babies, tanya," she warned. I was sitting with her legs still scissored around my waist, so I was able to look her in the eyes as I accepted her commands. "I am trusting that you are capable of caring for them properly, so do not disappoint me." Coming from any other woman, a comment like that probably would have elicited a laugh on my part, but I sensed she was quite serious. I mean, there had to be a secret behind breasts that incredible, so I would do my duty to my Goddess and -- perhaps -- learn something to help myself as well. Following her directions to the letter, I began by placing my soapy palms flat against her stomach, slowly sliding them up under her breasts. Turning only my wrists, I gently caressed my way up from the underside of her firm, beautiful mounds, gently massaging them with my fingers. Then, pausing just short of her huge, rosy aureole, I slid my hands up and over the top of her breasts and began the process all over again. "Do you like them, tanya?" I looked up into her bright green eyes and smiled. "Yes. Very much, Goddess." Quietly, almost too softly for me to hear, she asked, "I bet you'd like a pair of your very own, wouldn't you?" I felt a shudder of nervous delight shoot through my body at her words. She knew exactly what I wanted, and I was beginning to believe she really might be able to make me over in her image. Of course, I could never possess breasts like hers, but anything would be an improvement over what nature had mistakenly given me. Slowly working my thumbs around her rock-hard nipples, I smiled in delight to hear her gentle moan. "I would give anything to attain even a fraction of your feminine beauty, Goddess. You have been my guide, my teacher, my role model, my-" "Kiss them, tanya." Suddenly, she grabbed the back of my head and pulled it to her breast. I didn't even see her move -- one second I was gazing into her eyes, and the next I had a face-full of warm, soapy cleavage. "Kiss them ... lick them ... suck them clean, tanya. Even the gentlest soap can dry your skin, and I don't trust a simple washcloth to get me clean." I could feel her soapy flesh sliding around beneath my face as she spoke, but I was still too stunned to react. "Wash me with your mouth, clean me with your tongue, and perhaps I'll let you show me just how grateful you are." Fortunately, I didn't need to think to obey. While I was still marvelling at my luck, instinct took over and nudged me into action. Timidly at first, I stuck out my tongue to taste the soap on her breasts and was immediately relieved by the fact that she trusted only natural, herbal sources. While the taste was unmistakable soapy, there was none of the harsh, chemical taste I remembered from my childhood. Before long I was licking and kissing and sucking her soapy flesh as if it were coated with the sweetest icing. With my Goddess' warmth surrounding me, the sound of her heartbeat before me, and her soft moans of pleasure above, I was in a state of hypnotic bliss. She continued to hold me close long after she was clean, and I continued to perform my oral ministrations long after she released me. Actually, if it hadn't been for the fact that our water was starting to chill, we probably would have remained like that all day. "tanya." My Goddess pinched my chin between two fingers and gently forced me to look up into her eyes. "You have performed well, but you're not done yet. There is still something you haven't taken care of." While she continued to hold me with her eyes, she slipped her feet up onto my chest and pushed me away. For my part, all I could do was slide backwards in the tub until I felt the cold, hard faucet pressing against my spine. Even then, I couldn't look away from her eyes. "Since we're almost done, and the water is getting cold, I've saved you the trouble of soaping up my pussy. While you performed your oral duties above, I took the liberty of soaping myself down below." Suddenly, she yanked my head down until I was staring at the white, foamy patch between her legs. "Now, a woman's labia aren't quite as sensitive as her breasts, but I do so hate the feel of a soapy pussy." My breath coming hard and heavy, I twisted my legs beneath me until I was kneeling between her calves. "If you find me worthy, Goddess, I would be honoured to complete your bath. Please, just say the word and I shall- " "Yes, you shall." With one fluid movement she pinched my nose shut, plunged my head underwater, pressed my face to her pussy ... and simply held me there until she was clean. ----- "tanya?" Still in the process of extinguishing the candles around the tub, I turned and smiled. "Yes, Goddess?" "When you are done in here, please slip into your robe and join me out by the pool. My hair needs to be braided properly, and I think you might appreciate the extra light to work with." She leaned down and bestowed a quick kiss upon my lips. "Don't keep me waiting." Hoping the blush on my cheeks wasn't nearly as obvious as it felt, I just nodded. Part 4 "Good morning, Brian." "Yeah?" I forced a hanger inside my coat and slammed it into the closet. "What's so fucking good about it?" I snarled. The receptionist visibly flinched as I turned to face her. "Gee ... rough start to the day, or what?" Later, I knew I'd feel bad for having taken my frustrations out on her, but the words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. "I woke up too late to take a shower, spent twenty minutes trying to chisel the ice off my car, got stuck behind some asshole doing about 30km on the highway, then got a fucking ticket when I pulled onto the shoulder to pass him." Already walking away, I snapped, "You'd think people in this city had never seen winter before!" "Well ... I hope it gets better." Even without turning, I knew she was watching me with a shy, sheepish grin. Her grey eyes would be wide with concern, and she'd probably be twirling a strand of dirty blonde hair around her finger. Nice as she was, Laura wasn't built for confrontation -- which was why she hadn't lasted long on the phones. "Not bloody likely." ----- "Thank you for calling help desk. Andrew here." I shook my head in disgust. Of all the people to take this call off my hands, Andrew was the last person I wanted. Not only was he abrupt with other reps, but he was often short with customers too. How he'd lasted so long on help-desk I had no idea, but I wasn't in the mood to hang up and try for somebody else. "Yeah," I sighed, "I've got a customer who wants to speak to a supervisor." Not even giving him a chance to ask for the details, I offered, "Name is Richards, first name Farrah, and the address is 1209 McKorel Court." Tossing my glasses down on the desk, I roughly massaged the bridge of my nose as I said, "She wants a month's credit that she doesn't deserve and is demanding we provide written notice stating that we will not charge her VISA again without permission." Andrew muttered something under his breath. "Why does she want a credit?" Having already gone through this several times with the customer, I rattled off the details from memory. "She's not happy with the service, says it's not what she expected, and she shouldn't have to pay. There's no record of her having called before now, and there's no indication of problems in her area or with her service. I offered a week's credit to make her happy, but that wasn't good enough." "Well, if there's no history of problems there's nothing I can do." "Yes. I know that." I could feel my headache getting worse, but I knew he wasn't going to take responsibility for the call without a fight. "I've been telling her that for the last half hour, but she won't accept it. She wants somebody above me who-" "Did she ask for a supervisor?" Son of a bitch. I knew this was coming. "Not by name, no, but-" Even though we were on different sides of the office, I could hear the way he was shrugging off the call. "Then there's nothing I can do." "Look, don't give me that shit, okay? I've been sitting here listening to this woman bitch at me for half an hour. I've been as pleasant and polite as anyone could possibly expect, explained the issue six different ways, and did my best to make her happy. She's obviously not willing to listen to me, and wants somebody with -- and I quote -- some goddamned authority." The condescending bastard had the nerve to apologise for being such an asshole. "Sorry, bud, but if she didn't ask for a supervisor then you're on your own." I wanted to reach through the phone and strangle him, but forced myself to remain calm. "This is the fifth irate customer I've dealt with this afternoon, and the only one I've had to escalate. So, let me tell you what's gonna happen here. Number one, you can do your goddamned job and take the call. Number two, I can call help-desk back and cold transfer the bitch without any warning. Number three, I can 'accidentally' disconnect her and let the next unfortunate rep deal with her." Finishing off my entry in the customer's database file as I spoke, I told Andrew, "I was supposed to be out of here twenty minutes ago and I ain't dealing with her again." I saved the entry and began logging off the system. "So ... bud -- what's it gonna be?" ----- Cold, wet, and in a foul mood, I trudged across the slushy street and jerked open the door to the gym. Usually, I looked forward to my workout as a chance to forget my troubles, work out a few frustrations, and -- best of all -- bond with my Goddess. This was just one of those days, though, that wasn't going to be so easily dismissed from my mind. Apparently, I must have looked as pissed as I felt, because the normally outgoing receptionist didn't even try to strike up a conversation. My knuckles white where they gripped the pen, I scrawled my name and membership number in the book, nearly tearing through the page. Then, all but slamming the pen down, I grabbed my gym-bag and turned for the change room. "tanya." If only I'd taken a moment to think. If I'd even paused long enough to take a single breath, I surely would have recognised the musical call of my Goddess. Instead, I whirled around and snapped, "What?" She didn't say a word. She didn't blink. She didn't frown. She didn't scowl. She just turned away, as if I didn't exist, and casually strolled into the women's change room. That would prove to be the last I'd see -- or hear -- of her for nearly a week. ----- It was with a heavy heart and sweaty palms that I parked before my Goddess' house Sunday morning. After having been shunned -- and rightfully so -- for the past week, I had no idea whether I'd be welcome or not. Even now, it seemed inconceivable that I could have acted so harshly towards her, and I knew there was absolutely no excuse for my behaviour. The memory of our last brief, disastrous encounter had left a foul taste in my mouth, so much so that I wanted to be sick. Unfortunately, I didn't have the luxury of feeling sorry for myself. I had dishonoured my Goddess, and I was going to have to work very hard to make it up to her. As I climbed out of the car and over the snowbank left by the passing plows, I wondered if I should have left my clothes in the car. I quickly dismissed the thought. Although such a symbolic sacrifice might have aided my cause, the sight of a naked man skulking outside her home would only bring further grief to my Goddess. Carefully, quietly, I entered the greenhouse in back and choked back a strangled sob of regret. We'd spent the entire afternoon out here last Sunday, and it had brought us closer than I had ever dreamed possible. It had been like we were best friends -- sisters even -- enjoying a bit of fun by the pool. I hadn't felt so close to another person in a very long time, and I loved her for granting me that gift. Loved her so much that I had snapped in anger and ruined everything we'd built! I was disappointed -- if not completely surprised -- to find she'd changed the locks on her door. Hoping desperately for some sign that I might be able to win back her trust, I circled the pool a dozen times, but there was no key hidden in its clear, chlorine depths. "You stupid, idiotic, moronic, shortsighted, selfish bastard," I chastised myself. Caught between the urge to drown myself in the pool, and the urge to throw myself at her door wailing for forgiveness, I sighed. "What the hell are you going to do now, huh?" ----- A few minutes short of three hours later, I collapsed to my knees before her door and hung my head in shame. Desperate for some way to show my remorse, I 'd shovelled my Goddess' driveway, cleaned off her front porch, weeded her garden, swept the walk around her pool, and even wiped down her patio furniture with my good shirt. I knew they were all small, meaningless gestures, but I had to start somewhere. "What?" I hadn't even heard the door open. Startled, my head snapped up to meet her accusing gaze. Deep in my heart I had feared I might never see my Goddess again, but here she was, literally towering over me, her Amazonian frame filling the doorway. Clad head to toe in a skin-tight, black PVC catsuit, her stiletto heels added several inches to her already imposing height. Combined with the scowl of disgust on her face, it was like looking up into the face of doom. I forced myself to swallow my fear as I lowered my eyes to stare at her feet. "Please ... please forgive me, Goddess. There is no excuse for how I acted the other night, and I am sorry. I'd been through a really bad day and I took it out on you. It was inexcusable." The reflection staring back at me from her boots clearly showed the tears running down my cheeks, but I forced myself to continue. "I was thoughtless, Goddess. I was thoughtless, careless, and rude. I ... I know I don't deserve it, but I am begging for a chance to make it up to you ... to prove myself worthy of your attentions all over again." Moving faster than I'd ever seen before, she lashed out, grabbed a fistful of my hair, and jerked me inside the door. Before I could even catch my breath, she'd wrapped a black leather collar around my neck, buckled it as tight as it would possibly go, then kicked me towards the stairs. "Basement," she scowled. "Now." Unsure of what to expect, but knowing I deserved whatever awaited me in the darkness below, I hastily crawled my way down the stairs. Under other circumstances, I'm sure my journey into the darker side of my Goddess' realm would have been exciting and arousing. However, this was definitely a worst-case scenario, which meant I had to fight to keep my mind from straying beyond the cold, uncarpeted stairs. "Turn left," she snapped, "and kneel in the centre of the room." She waited until I had obeyed before following me into the darkness. With my head down, all I could do was listen to the sharp sound of her stiletto heels as she passed ... the angry sound of her breathing as she came to stand behind me ... and the terrifying whistle of her riding crop as it came down upon my back. Doing my best to remain motionless, I clenched my teeth in pain and awaited the next fiery sensation. It never came. "No. That will teach you nothing." She dropped the riding crop to the floor, then came around to stand before me. "If I am going to punish you for your behaviour, then it will have to be something significant to you in order to have any meaning." My Goddess grabbed my hair again and jerked my head up until I could just barely make out the shine of her eyes in the darkness. "Do you wish to be punished, tanya?" "Yes, Goddess! I have wronged you, and I desperately want to make amends. Whatever you decide is justified, Goddess, I shall accept and be grateful for it. Please, just--" Suddenly, she silenced my pleas with a cold, clammy, rubber ball-gag. Of course, I couldn't see what it was she'd forced into my mouth, but the taste and feel of rubber was unmistakable. While I marvelled at the speed with which she moved -- her Amazonian size was very deceptive -- she pinched my jaw and yanked it down so as to force more of the gag inside my mouth. By the time she was finished, my lips felt like they were going to split at the seams, but I knew I had deserved every uncomfortable moment. "This," she told me, "is to prevent any repeats of the other night. Perhaps later I will let you apologise, but you haven't yet earned that right. Understand?" I nodded. "Good." With that, she walked away, leaving me to kneel silently in the darkness for what seemed like an eternity. During that time my imagination provided its own sinister punishment, making me wonder what her darkened dungeon really contained. Truthfully, I might have been kneeling in nothing more than a domestic laundry room, but I sincerely doubted that. It just wasn't my Goddess' style. The sound of her heels upon the stairs was the first sign of her return, but gave me no chance to prepare for what came next. Before I heard her reach the bottom, my eyes were assaulted with the sudden glow of red, fluorescent lights. It was like the room around me had burst into flame, which I knew was preposterous, yet still remained an effective means of keeping me off my guard. "Lay down, on your back, and spread yourself wide." The instant I complied, she sat herself down between my thighs and placed a bucket of hot wax almost right against my crotch. "To start with," she explained, "I am going to take something you enjoy, an act that you treasure as a part of your femininity, and use it against you." She began pulling a ladle from the wax, then paused. "You will, of course, remain completely still and accept your punishment." The heat radiating off the bucket was e