Surprisingly

My brain refused to understand what me eyes could see. Summer bent crisply at the waist and placed both hands on the low table between Stacey and I. Summer took two steps to spread her legs, for stability rather than submission.

She really had not seen me at all. She was the naughty girl. My curiosity overwhelmed my training as my eyes turned to watch my Mistress' reaction.

Had she expected this?

Had she orchestrated this?

Had I already lost my wife, behind some invisible event horizon caused by the gravity of our Mistress?

How the heck did Miss Summer expect to be flogged through, (I noticed her clothes for the first time today) a pair of caramel pantyhose and a tight miniskirt?

I realised that I had been eyeballing Mistress and snapped back to Inspection, with my eyes firmly fixed on Stacey's fringe. My arms were still vibrating, (from the strain of the Stress Position), and a small cramp had started to threaten just under my right hip.

The last thing that I'd seen on Mistress F's face was amused pleasure. I heard her take an impotent swing and the flogger laughed through the air for her, as an extension of her body. She knew her toys and tools so intimately that they were just an extension of herself, from the moment that she picked them up.

Mistress took up her position behind Summer and paused to centre herself emotionally. Out of the corner of my eye I could see her shift her pelvis as she sent her arm back, up and down.

whoosh.

The flogger just grazed the side for Summer's skirt.

whoosh.

The flogger continued its arc past the other side of Mistress, up and performed exactly the same graze of Summer's skirt, but on the other side.

Mistress caught the thongs of the flogger and evaluated something inscrutable. She walked forward and sat on the table between Summer's hands and Stacey's left leg.

"How long have you been fantasising about this Summer?"

"Oh years! Back when I was married I used to regularly masturbate, imagining being dominated. It was always beautiful tall lawyer types, in dark blue suits. You're my first doctor."

"And why should I flog you?"

"Because I need it. I want to feel what it is really like."

Mistress took a moment to evaluate, before she stood. "Okay Summer. Stand and remove your skirt and blouse."

Summer made a peeping noise of excitement. I guess some part of her was still nervous that she would be rejected. In her intoxicated eagerness she yanked and pulled her clothes off; the blouse ended up partly on the table, partly on the floor. The skirt was unzipped and after wiggling it down, it was unceremoniously, (and I think unintentionally) kicked under the table.

Mistress made her tutting noise and I swear that Stacey and I, in unison, both shook even more than we already were. "That won't do. Pick up your skirt, fold it and place it squarely on the table.

Summer gave Mistress a look that was somewhere between, "You've got to be kidding me?" and "I don't have time for your bullshit."

I'm sure that I could hear Mistress swallowing her anger, just before she lifted her chin and leant her head to the side, silently saying, "I'm not kidding and you will make time or it will not end well for you."

Summer seemed to deflate and with an almost dangerously bratty flavour to her movements, did as she was told. Once the skirt was folded, "now fold the shirt. You've had two examples of decorum - how hard is it to just copy your classmates homework?"

Agonisingly slowly Summer turned the sleeves of her blouse the right way out and folded it. My arms were reaching their limit and I think that Stacey was close to collapse.

"My two slaves, nadu." oh the sweet blessed relief. Stacey and I dropped to our knees each of us yelped from the pain of holding that position for so long. I think that it was Stacey's arms that caused her to whimper. For me it was the cramp in the side of the thigh that knotted for a moment and felt like it took a chunk out of my leg. I quickly massaged it as I spread my knees as far apart as they would go. My big toes flicked back and fourth over each other, like a wagging tail, and as I placed the backs of my hands on the inside of my knees, my right forearm brushed over my thigh and discovered an amount of gooey wetness that surprised even me. (Mistress was right, I really am a slug.)

"Summer remove your shoes and place them together, upright next to the pile of clothes that you just stacked." With a left, right sway of her hips, Summer stepped out and down from her shoes. She bent to pick them up and placed them on the table. They were similar to the ones that Mistress F was wearing. (How had I not noticed that until now? Had there been some sort of invisibility cloak over Miss Summer?)

"Summer you may return to your previous position, when you are ready to be flogged."

Such control. Such experience. I would have had Summer move to stand on the side of the table with the three chairs, and clear them to have more room. With her experience and control and accuracy, it was no challenge for Mistress to strike Summer while leaving Stacey untouched.