I'll Take You to Miss Cole's

I’ll Take you to Miss Cole’s

Author’s Note:

I’ll Take you to Mrs. Cole on which this story is VERY loosely based is a children’s book. There are no children in my story. It was one of my picture books as a child. It’s the story of a boy whose mother gives him lots of chores and threatens to take him to Mrs. Cole’s every time he misbehaves. Mrs. Cole’s house is the rather scruffy one down the street, and he assumes that should he end up going there he will be put in a dungeon (yup... it is all starting to add up and make senseÉ) The twist is that Mrs. Cole’s house actually has a very liberal attitude towards children, and he has fun. By the end of the story his mother now uses it as a bribeÉ if you’re good I’ll take you to Mrs. Cole’s. Whether or not my protagonist has a similar reaction at Miss Cole’s remains to be seen.

Enjoy.

ÒPlease Master! I am so sorry I was bad! Please don’t get rid of me!Ó I was doing my best apologetic slut eyes I was begging from head to toe but staring back at me were mirthless eyes. He finally spoke in quiet dangerous tones. ÒYou sought to manipulate me, you worthless piece of shit. You spent the entire week doing things wrong on purpose in the hope that I would punish you. I control the punishments. I decide what you deserve. I decide whether I keep you or give you out to others to be used. You will obey my will.Ó

ÒMaster, I promise I won’t let you down again, please take me home.Ó My eyes shone with little tears of fear. ÒPlease.Ó

For some strange reason he seemed unwilling to do as I asked.

In one hand he held my hair low so that I was forced onto my knees, the other rang the doorbell of a well-kept suburban house. I kept my eyes down and swallowed. The door opened and Master and the silhouette in front of me began to have a quick chat. He asked about work, the voice replied that it was fine, that everything was fine. He was also fine, it seemed I was the only one who wasn’t fine.

ÒOh, where are my manners, in you go bitch.Ó He kicked me through the door. ÒForehead against the floor, hold your position, slut.Ó

ÒYes Master.Ó

I was on a cool hardwood floor, with my knees tucked under me, and my dress riding up.

ÒOh how sweet, he let you wear underwear. You must really love her.Ó Said the black sensible heels clipping under my nose.

ÒAt the moment, not particularly. But I’m sure you’ll sort her out.Ó I heard the door swing open again and felt acutely aware that my backside was facing the street. ÒBye bye slut, be a good girl, and maybe I’ll come back for you.Ó By the time the door crashed closed, there was a fully fledged lump in my throat and water blurring my vision.

ÒDon’t you dare start to cry, you little bitch. I don’t have time for that. Up on your feet. Present yourself.Ó Her orders were like little blows from a whip, sharp and concise, very different from my Master’s long winded guilt-trips. Though I had a feeling she might be pretty good at those too. As I stood, and pulled my shoulders back, I got my first proper look at her. She was a ballet dancer. The kind I had always imagined would take my place in my relationship with my master. She was 5’6Ó and impossibly slender. She was everything I am not, cool, detached, calm, covered with makeup. Each of her personality traits seemed like a kind of jab at me. her hair was long blond, and tied up neatly in an austere bun. Her whole body seemed to say, ÒThis, you pathetic fat short difficult whore, is what a woman should be.Ó Meanwhile she measured me up and I was most certainly found wanting.

ÒHow much do you weigh?Ó

Ò11 stoneÉ 164 poundsÓ I thought this was probably the time for honesty.

Ò And how tall are you?Ó

ÒFive foot three.Ó

ÒFrom now on all you will refer to me as Miss Cole, or mistress if you prefer. Understand?Ó

ÒYes Miss Cole.Ó

ÒYour BMI is 28, that’s overweight. Not good enough at all bitch. Strip.Ó

ÒYes Miss Cole.Ó

I quickly took off the dress, but found myself hesitating with my bra and panties.

ÒDon’t make me wait bitch,Ó She said with a gentle smile, aware that since I had already hesitated she would be able to punish me nonetheless. I grew hot and red before finally peeling off the bra and panties. Then she began her appraisal.

ÒYour belly is disgusting. Nice breasts though, I suppose fat is good for one thing. Hands above your head. At least that’s shaved, what about down here.Ó She pulled the hair that covered my mound.

ÒIt’s itchy if I shave down there, Miss Cole.Ó

ÒIt’s the mark of a good little slut. It is meant to be a reminder of how you must be an object for the one you love.Ó

ÒPlease Miss Cole, I hate it, Please don’t make me shave it.Ó

ÒOk, Slut, just this once I will let you off, but in return you’ll get a second punishment.Ó

ÒSecond?Ó I asked angelically.

ÒThird actually, since you failed to remember to call me Miss Cole. Your first came when you failed to strip immediately, but you knew that already didn’t you.Ó I flushed, even simple protocol was proving difficult for me. ÒThree little punishments for the naughty slut.Ó She sang gently as she took my hair in her hands and pulled me upstairs. Once in her bedroom, a beautifully decorated boudoir of cream and gold a bag of tricks seemed to materialise, as well as an assortment of canes and whips. I immediately became wet.

ÒI like my girls to choose how they wish to be punished. You can choose any of the devices here, but I know how much your master likes your punishment to fit the crime, so bear that in mind when you make your choices, and don’t go easy on yourself, because I can always up the amounts. I looked at the paraphernalia laid out before me and made my decisions.

ÒMiss Cole, for the first infraction I think you should punish my tits since I was so hesitant to reveal them. For the second, please punish my naughty cunt, and for forgetting to call you by your name please punish my mouth.Ó

ÒI would suggest you beg a little harder than that girl.Ó

I got on my knees and stared up into cold brown eyes.

ÒPlease Mistress, please punish my naughty tits, cunt and mouth. Please, I am so very sorry for the infractions I commited and for inconveniencing you in having to punish me. Please help me to be a better slut.Ó

ÒWell if you insist.Ó

She tied my hands together swiftly and expertly then tied the rope off to a ring conveniently placed in the ceiling. My feet were tied off to two feet of the bed. so my legs were spread wide apart and I backed against the footboard.

ÒStick your tongue out.Ó I complied, and onto it she clipped a clothespin. ÒKeep that tongue out.Ó

ÒYeth Mith Cole..Ó

ÒWell that was just adorable but for now I will say you need not respond to my commands.Ó

ÒThank you Mith Cole.Ó

Onto my breasts were placed eight clothespins two on either side of each nipple. Onto the nipple itself was placed clover clamps. I gasped as she placed them on which only seemed to encourage her to pull on them gently. My aching cunt was filled with a large vibrator which she tied in place. She did not turn it on.

ÒWe’ll start with your naughty tits. I’m told you’ve never been caned.Ó

I shook my head in affirmative.

ÒThis will be good experience.Ó She began to very gently tap the topside of my breasts with wood. I gasped at the new sensation of heat which quickly turned to pain. Each stroke, no matter how gentle shook the clamps and pins, and I began to shake in my bonds. As time went on she steadily increased the pressure and speed of the strokes until I was being tormented at a regular steady pace. Sobs turned to screams, screams turned back into sobs, and pretty soon I was awash with tears and saliva from my clothespinned tongue. My cunt was dripping, my thighs moistened by each blow. She  stopped punishing my burning tits, and turned her attention to it.

ÒPainslutÓ she said under her breath, it was a sort of mental note.

The vibrator woke up and I was wiggling anew. She then took great pleasure in slowly but surely pulling the clothespins off. Each one drove a small scream from my lips. The she came to the excruciating clamps.

ÒSore?Ó

I nodded slowly with a mixture of fear and anger in my eyes.

ÒGood, they can stay on a little longer then.Ó

My expression reverted to good slut, but to no avail; the clamps went nowhere.

Then for the first time she made sexual contact with me, and began to lap at my painful breasts. Each lick was a mixture of agony from the welts and ecstasy from the tender sucking. I began to quiver for release, my eyes scrunched up, and I heard myself begin to beg.

ÒPleathe Mith Cole, Pleathe may I cum. Pleathe.Ó

She looked at me, perplexed. ÒOf course not you stupid cow, this is a punishment. Naughty unshaven cunts don’t cumÓ

I moaned gently, I knew I was undisciplined in this area and was cumming nonetheless. I gasped and moaned loudly,  and began to shake desperately as the sensations became overwhelming. The vibrator continued to buzz incessantly.

ÒNo wonder your master decided to hand you over to me. You are a mess.Ó She shut off the vibrator and untied me. The rope quickly became a collar and leash, and using it she too me into another room. This was clearly her spare room, it was pilled high with the clutter that the rest of the house was free from. Yet conspicuously  one corner was devoid of mess and had another little ring imbedded into the skirting board. It was here she led me, and tied my hands behind my back, before tying off the rope to the ring. Without another word she left the room and locked the door behind her. I sat in the room for what must have been a few hours. As the light began to change colour I felt all the rigours of boredom, fear, loneliness, and shame. More than anything I wondered how I could have allowed myself to be in this positionÉ how I could have been so naughty? By the time Miss Cole returned I was curled up on my side, my hands numb behind me and just drifting off to sleep. She was dressed in a stunning cocktail dress and wearing delicate black heels. With one hand she held a bowl, with the other she pulled me to my knees. ÒHungry?Ó I kept my gaze on the floor, aware that any mistakes at this point might mean another hour or two alone with the boredom ÒYes Miss Cole.Ó She presented me with a bowl of brown mushed up cereal, and placed it on the floor.

With the hand still holding my hair she lowered me so that I was bent over the bowl without the use of my hands, and held me in the uncomfortable position. My nose dipped into the cold mush. ÒEatÓ

I began to lap gently at the mixture which tasted just as it looked, brown and textureless. ÒAre you enjoying it?Ó She said warmly, ÒYes, miss cole,Ó I slurped up a little more, Òthank you for making it for me.Ó My face was covered by it, as she began to take delight in dipping me into the mixture. When I finished I licked the bowl clean and said ÒI’m very sorry you had to be troubled by making it for me, next time please allow me to make dinner for you.Ó She laughed as she pulled me up and laughed even more when she saw the mess covering my face and hair. ÒWe’ve got a visitor. You may shower and make yourself presentable. You can start by getting rid of this disgusting hair.Ó I stared at the floor, and tears filled my eyes. I just can’t do it. ÒPlease Miss Cole, you said I you wouldn’t ask me toÉÓ

Òhmm, that’s true. Well I’ll leave it up to you, but our visitor will be displeased. I will have to punish you if you choose not to.Ó

ÒPlease don’t leave me in here again, Miss Cole.Ó

She laughed, and began to untie my hands. ÒYou silly bitch as if there aren’t so many better ways of punishing you for disobeying a direct order.Ó

My mind reeled at the possibilities as I sat in silence being untied. Before I had time to fantasise any further she led me to the bathroom. ÒYou have 30 minutes, get clean make yourself look nice, if that’s possible for someone as fat as you. The come downstairs and stand in the middle of the living room.Ó

ÒYes ma’amÓ

She swung around, and grabbed my chin, ÒIt’s yes mistress.Ó

ÒYes Miss Cole?Ó I tried hopefully. She pulled me to my knees again. ÒOpen your mouthÓ

I complied. She spat in it, taking delight in my horror. ÒI told you to say Òyes Mistress,Ó is that really so hard? So say it.Ó

ÒYes Mistress, I’m sorry Mistress.Ó

ÒYou will be,Ó she replied as she clipped out the door.

I climbed in the shower and washed and dried my hair. When I finished I noticed that there were two smallish gift boxes in the room. I checked the tags and realised they were for me. ÒFor my little slut girlÓ Two gifts from Master. I opened the first and found a pair of court shoes with a hobbling (for me anyway) 5 inch heel. The second box contained seemed stockings and a black and red garter belt. I quickly dressed in the lingerie, and then I noticed a little note.

       Dear Slut,

                       I hope you are learning to be a good little girl on your trip, but

               now I have a little challenge for you. I want you to misbehave your stockings off.

               I want Miss Cole to relay stories that you are an incorrigible little bitch. I want

               you to experience the worst that she can offer. Be a good girl for me.

                                               

                                                                                       Master.

I read the letter twice. What a bastard. Now I was stuck in between two evils, but my theory was that since I hoped to spend forever with Master and to never see the sadistic Miss Cole ever again. I would do as he said and hope he didn’t leave me here forever. I was already off to a great start; I had missed her time limit. I climbed downstairs carefully in the heels and trotted into the middle of the living room floor. Just as I reached her quiet angry gaze there was a knock at the door. ÒGet that for me slutÓ Without responding I clipped away from her, I was not going to submit, I was going to go home disemboweled or in pieces, but I was going to be incorrigible. If she did kill me, then that would show Master that I followed his command even to the last.