Date Night

Claire looks very surprised. She glares at me, an edgy look on her face, for a half of a second, then turns to Jerry. And glares at him. He tells her. "Uh... this must be Miss Rodgers... Mistress sent her because I've been such a bad boy... I have to mind her as if she were Mistress." His voice is slightly hushed and very tentative. His eyes are wide. But his face says he thinks he should be the one deciding my fate, not the other way around. Claire finally turns back to me.

I put my hand to Claire's chest, keeping it above the line of her breasts. I push gently until she takes a step back, giving me room to step in. "I know you don't belong to Mistress, bitch, but understand this, you will be obeying me while I'm here, as well. I won't speak for your Mistress, but if you are going to be here, you are going to mind. Is that clear, bitch?"

"I... Don't--" Claire begins.

I slap her face. It's a moderately hard slap, enough to leave a little handprint on her cheek that will spend the next few minutes stinging her cheek as it fades away. "I said, is that clear, bitch?"

Claire's eyes go wide in shock. And in horror. She stands stunned for a long second. Then, with a slight, but plain, tremble in her voice, she very quietly answers "Yes, Miss Rodgers."

"Good girl," I tell her. Sophie follows me in, closing the door behind us.

I turn my attention to Jerry. After all, he's the bad boy tonight. I'm sure both expect me to play with Jerry. I can see some relief on Claire's face as my attention shifts to Jerry. And off of her. I'll bet she's thinking I am going to be a total bitch. That Colette never makes her be humble and polite. Colette is only demanding with Jerry. Colette treats Claire like a person, not a toy. I'm sure she expects that I know how far Claire will go, what she'll do and won't do in their sessions with Colette, and assumes that I will mind those limits. But apparently, I am also going to make her show some proper humility, as she knows I will demand of Jerry.

"Give me your phone, fuck stick," I tell him firmly.

"Yes, Ma'am," Jerry says very quickly, his eyes still darting back and forth from me, and my smirking, smiling face, to the stunned look on Claire's face. He holds his phone out to me.

I flick my wrist, sending the tip of my crop sailing through the air, and snapping hard against the side of his knee. "You disrespectful little bitch!" I scold him in most disapproving, sternest, voice. "How dare you offer me anything so rudely! What do you think you are, a person or something?" Another flick of my wrist has the crop snapping just as harshly against his other knee. "On your knees, like a proper little bitch, fuck stick."

Jerry yelps with each swat of my crop. The knee is mostly bone, and thus not a fun place to be whipped. It hurts more than most places. But it is those knees he's not down on, as he should know that he should be. I know Colette's style. It's not much different than mine. We use the same commands for our toys, too. It makes it easier to share our toys. The toys already know what's expected of them, regardless of whom shows up to teach them their lesson.

Jerry very quickly drops to his knees. He sits back, letting his bottom hang between the tops of his heels. He keeps his back up straight. He holds his hands out six inches in front of his nipples, his palms upturned and made into a little serving tray. His phone now rests atop his hands. "I'm sorry, Ma'am," Jerry apologizes very sheepishly. "Here is my phone, Ma'am."

His eyes are now locked on me. I think those little swats taught him that I'm not some silly young girl here to play around. I'm going to be just as firm as his Mistress is. And thus, he'd better be on his best behavior. I can see that Claire's eyes are on me now, watching me, sizing me up, and ignoring Jerry. But I'm sure she's seen Jerry on his knees plenty of times. This isn't new for either one of them.

I take the phone. I took over in the middle of the call, with it still connected. The instant he told Claire what Mistress was doing to him. "Hey girl!" I greet Colette. I hear her giggling. "I'll just assume fuck stick got the message and is on his knees now since I don't hear him crying from any more whippings!"

I ignore the pair of them for a moment, chatting with Colette as if we are the closest of friends. I want them to hear it. I want them to hear how Colette and I see each other as equals. And how I see both of them as far less important than I see Colette. I don't want either of them confused about how far down the totem pole their place is. So far down that you'd have to dig around the totem pole to find their place on it.

Then I end the call and hand Jerry's phone to Sophie. I look Jerry in the eyes and ask him the name of their babysitter. He tells me that her name is Kathy. I ask if Kathy is in his contacts. He says yes. I tell Sophie that she's to answer Jerry's phone if Kathy calls, but everyone else goes to voicemail. I'm pretty sure that if there's an emergency, Kathy will try both of their phones until someone answers. I know I would. And so would any of the babysitters I use. Although, if my sitters knew that I was playing with the couple while they were sitting, they'd start by calling me. It would be much faster. But Kathy is their sitter, not mine, and I'm fairly certain she doesn't know Colette or I exist. I didn't recognize her as anyone I know.

I stand over Jerry. It seems as if he and Claire have dressed up for their night out. I wonder where they were going. There really aren't that many restaurants that even have dine-in anymore. The finer ones do, though. They've taken about half of their tables out, too. Welcome to the post-COVID world, now featuring masked waiters. And here I prefer naked waiters!

Jerry is wearing a nice suit. Something probably nicer than he'd wear to court. He has on dark gray slacks with a very light baby blue shirt and a blue tie. They must have been planning to leave as soon as the kids were gone. He has his coat on. A pair of nicely polished black loafers, too, which are probably going to need their toes polished now.

Jerry looked to be about 6'1", maybe 6'2" on his feet. And I'd guess that he's close to 200 pounds. He has fairly broad shoulders, and a decent, definitely lean, build. At least as far as I can tell with his clothes on. Nice suits aren't exactly the snuggest of attire.

Jerry has an interesting, and rather handsome, face. It's only slightly oval. It has some fairly strong lines to it. But it also has just the hint of fullness to it, softening up his features a little. He has short, dark brown, wavy hair. It's fairly bushy and full. He has green eyes. He has a slightly wide and short nose. He has fine, light pink lips framing a wide mouth and a bright smile. All of that above a slightly sharp, and strong-looking, jawline.

Too bad that's all of him I can see. For now. "On your feet, naughty little boy!" I snap suddenly, and sternly, without raising my voice.

Jerry almost jumps to his feet. I'm sure he's very eager to show me what a good boy he is. He has to know he's already in trouble. Colette has been telling him that for two days now. Obviously, he knows that a punishment is coming. Colette isn't any more likely to let a toy get away with misbehavior than I am. He must think that if he behaves now it will lessen his punishment. I know that wouldn't work with Colette. It's not going to work with me, either. He'll learn. In just a few minutes!

I reach out, rather quickly, my hand almost darting to the crotch of his pants. I grab hold with a firm grip. I squeeze just lightly, feeling his stiff, rock-hard shaft and rubbery-hard balls in my hand. Business suits, and their slacks, aren't so thick. They cushion my feel, but not too much. I'm sure he feels my grip, too. I want him to.

"Oh, you filthy pervert!" I scold him harshly, my voice as disgusted as it is disapproving. "You're in trouble for being such a horny little toad, and here you are greeting me with a stiff penis? You're in trouble! Have you no shame? You're being punished! Punishment shouldn't be arousing you! That is, like so creepy-weird!"

I pull hard. I don't warn Jerry. I just pull. He quickly stumbles a step forward. I keep pulling, leading him over to the front door. "Get your disgusting little bottom in the corner until you're ready to behave like a pig instead of a pervert!" I release his cock, shoving him toward the corner where the front door's hinges are. It's a corner with nothing in it. The closest one I can see from here. I give him a little swat on his bottom to encourage him to get in the corner.

Jerry very quickly gets in the proper posture. I know Colette has made him stand in the corner before. It's a degrading punishment. It's rather infantile for a grown man, or woman, to be sent to a corner like a toddler. Naturally, I like sending them!

He stands with his toes touching the baseboards and no more of his body. He puts his hands behind the small of his back and keeps them there. He stares into the empty corner. He knows Colette's rules, and I hope he assumes mine are the same. He did pass the bar exam, so I assume he's smart enough to guess that Colette wouldn't have sent someone who didn't know what Jerry knew. So Jerry should know that he's not allowed to move. Not even to scratch an itch. Nor is he allowed to close his eyes. And he is definitely not allowed to make a sound. He's not allowed to do anything but to stand there. And wait. Until I tell him that he's allowed out of the corner.

I don't know what Colette's done while he was in the corner before. I'm known to sit back and sip coffee. I'm sure Colette passes her time in some similar way.

But that's not what I have in mind now. Claire is here. And Claire needs to be clear on what I expect of her, too. I just hate misunderstandings! And at this moment, Claire is just glaring at me. I'm sure she's wondering what I'm going to be like. If I'm going to be as strict as Colette, or not. Or maybe if I'm going to worse than Colette. I know that Colette is the only Domme Claire's ever met. She can't know if we're all the same or have different styles. I'm sure Jerry has told her that styles vary, but we're all strict. It wouldn't be very domineering if we were softies, would it?

Claire, too, has a slightly oval face. Only there isn't a sharp or strong line to her face, giving her a rather feminine look. She has long, straight brown hair that hangs down just enough to cover her shoulders. It looks to be rather fine and soft. She has brown eyes. But she has a small, narrow nose. She does have a wide mouth, framed with medium pink lips that are neither fine nor plump, but somewhere in between. It's also a rather straight mouth, even when she smiles. She has a soft, well-rounded jawline that's full. And she has a few wrinkle lines at the corners of her eyes, and along that line beside her mouth, running up towards her nose. Those make her look her age, or maybe even a year or three older. But still, I wouldn't think she was 40 yet. Age guessing can be such an inexact science. Still, I'd put her in the late half of her 30s.

For her date tonight, Claire is wearing a slightly snug-fitting black dress. On top, it covers her almost all the way up to her neck, with only a shallow neckline. But there's a decent V of lace there, turning the dress from modest to sexy. And lace doesn't hide the skin under it very well, so it could have a deeper neckline. It covers her almost perfectly down to her knees. From there, I can see a pair of black stockings. And a pair of black leather shoes, open-toed, with spiky heels. She also has a red, and decently snug-fitting, red blazer on with it. It's a small blazer, one that's a pure accessory, not functional. It has sleeves that come just past her elbows. Below that, her arms are bare, letting me know that the dress's sleeves are no longer than her elbows. If it even has sleeves. Most sexy dresses don't. The blazer does cover her back fully, so I can't tell if the dress is sexy and backless or not. I'd guess it's one of the cuter dresses she owns. It is date night. And nothing says sexy like black stockings. She clearly has some ideas of what they would do after supper to pass the rest of their date night. Well, what was going to be their date night? I hope they don't have reservations or anything! They so won't be making them.

I treat Claire the same way that I just treated Jerry. I reach out to her suddenly, grabbing hold of her longish hair and getting a tight grip on it. I yank, but lightly, just enough to snap her hair taut and really get her attention.

"Don't think you're blameless, bitch," I begin telling Claire in a rather stern, slightly mocking, and very taunting voice. A voice that just dares her to contradict me. "I don't know what's wrong with you, if that pussy between those legs of yours is just too skanky to properly satisfy this little boy's penis, or if you just haven't a clue what to do with your pussy. But I am definitely going to find out. Now."

As I'm mocking her, Claire doesn't say anything. But I see her eyes going wide. And I see a nervous look blooming on her face. Right up until I say now. Then that nervous look erupts.

I don't give her a chance to do or say anything. There's a little table with some odds and ends on it beside her. It's not something I'd expect to see in a kid-friendly house. It's tall and fairly small. I doubt its square top even measures 18" across. Thus, easily knocked over. And thus, not for a kid-filled house. But it is rather elegant and decorative. I assume that they had it before they had kids, and it's somehow survived this long.

I snap Claire's hair again, bringing my hand up to her shoulder as I do. I use that hand to push Claire forward a little. I use her hair to hold her in place as she starts leaning over. I take my other hand from her shoulder and grab one of her wrists. I bring her hand up, bending her elbow and putting her elbow on the table, her forearm resting flat on it. I quickly do the same with her other hand. Then a little tug of her hair gets her to lean the rest of the way over until her arms are supporting a bit of her weight. A slightly firmer pull on her hair keeps her there.

Already her hips are squirming and wiggling. And her feet are fidgeting. I can't see her face anymore, but she looked rather nervous, almost afraid, as I bent her over. I can see the quivering starting and it's her entire body that's quivering. This is going to be such fun!

"Stay!" I firmly command Claire. I'm sure she's seen Jerry given that command enough to have a pretty good idea of what it means. To stay put. I keep the tension on her hair just to remind her.

I reach for the bottom hem of Claire's dress. I pull it up, quickly and slightly roughly. I'm sure she feels as if I'm yanking it up hard. Immediately I can see that Claire has gone for a strong, and sexy, look. Her stockings come up only to her mid-thighs. And she's wearing them without a garter belt. She's also wearing a pair of skimpy, and sexy, panties. Those are low cut on her hips. And they're mostly see-through. There's only a sharp V of black silk in the back to cover her crack. The rest, all the way around her hips, is just see-through mesh. And even that's narrow.

With Claire leaning over, In can see that the swath of black silk runs down, between her legs, and rises up the front, presumably to cover her pubes. It lets me see the mound of her pussy, puffing down enough that it's stretching the sheer fabric of the panties out just a bit.

I snap my fingers and wave for Sophie to go around to Claire's front. It's where I want Sophie now. Sophie does as she knows I want her to do. She puts her hands to Claire's head. She grips it tightly as I let Claire go. Sophie turns Claire's head, making Claire look right into Sophie's eyes. And Sophie puts her elbows atop Claire's wrists, somewhat pinning Claire's wrists down.

Now I have both hands. I quickly use them to pull Claire's panties down.

"NO!" Claire squeals. It's a squeal of pure nervousness. And it's full of embarrassment. Her bottom wiggles hard, trying to stop me from baring it. It does her little good. In about two seconds Claire's bare bottom is staring me in the face. As is the mound of Claire's pussy. "I don't play!" Claire blurts out, her voice almost panicked. "I don't want to do this! STOP!"

I just ignore Claire. Despite Sophie's grip on her, Claire could get up. It would take her a little strength, but Sophie has instructions not to make it that hard for Claire. Just hard enough that Claire will have to really work to get up.

"Shut up, bitch, I didn't say you could speak. I said I was going to thoroughly check your pussy, inside and out, to see if it's too skanky to satisfy a penis. You are going to stand there while I do. Is that clear, bitch?"

"NO! I don't belong to Mistress! I don't want to play! I don't want you seeing my privates! STOP!" Claire's voice is pure panic and laced with a very urgent, and humiliated plea. Claire tries closing her legs, squeezing her thighs together to stop me from getting to her pussy. And to hide it from my eyes.

But that still leaves me a nice view of Claire's bottom. It lets me see that her cheeks aren't hard. They're slightly, very slightly, loose. They're still nicely rounded, with a little curve at their bottom edges. But just loose enough to have a slight flatness to the front of them. And to have that soft look to them, instead of looking like hard globes. Hers look more like doughy globes. It also lets me see a fully closed crack, the inside edges of her cheeks flush against each other, but that's all. Not squished against each other, just enough to close her crack off and block my sight.

Isn't that so naughty? It doesn't take me but an instant to slip on a pair of latex gloves and squeeze a little drop of lubricating gel atop my first finger. I don't bother spreading Claire's cheeks. I opt for speed. I just aim and casually push my finger into her crack. My finger pushes her soft globes apart, letting me feel that there are decent muscles just under the soft flesh.

In less than a second, I can feel the tightly clenched ring of her asshole under my finger. And it's already clenching tighter! I can feel the trembling quiver flowing through her body, too. Her globes quivering against my finger. I can feel that her ring is tight and small. I can feel that her muscle is firm and strong. I can feel the very slight funneling guiding my finger to the center of her ring, too.

I don't ease up. I just push, casually, as if I'm sticking my finger into a hole in the wall of something. As if it's not a very private part of another person's body. Just some inanimate object I'm penetrating, neither caring for its comfort nor trying to be rough with it. I keep the pressure gentle, but steady. It's my professional, detached, nurse's touch. The one I save for annoying patients, not those I like, and thus try to be very gentle with.

It doesn't take any time for me to feel her ring give. It was always going to. The funneling surrounds the very tip of my finger. Then I feel the rubberiness of her muscle squeezing snugly around the side of my finger, my finger slipping further through the stiff muscle.

"OW!" Claire screeches. She shudders hard, too. She tries pulling her hips forward as if trying to move her bottom away from me. There's really nowhere for her to go. Especially not with Sophie holding her head. "OUT! GET IT OUT! NOW!" Claire shrieks out, her voice panicked, nervous, and squeaky.

I ignore Claire. She might as well learn now that I don't care what she says. Or what she claims to want. Colette wouldn't, either. I just keep pushing, letting my finger steadily slip deeper into Claire's bottom, her firm, rubbery muscle squeezing around the side of my finger.