Acceptable

You slide open the left side closet door to find the gear Fiona had mentioned. There were whips and floggers hanging from the rod. There were canes, poles, and such leaned in the corner. And right in front of you was series of shelves with binds, cuffs, blindfolds, ropes, clamps, vibrators, and all variety of sex toys and gear. It is a kinky treasure trove!

You take your time and really look things over. You're gaze pauses on each shelf and each item and you let your imagination tell what might be possible with each and what you might enjoy. This being your first time you knew you weren't going to get too complicated or crazy. Ropes were out as you didn't have the knowledge yet to use them so instead you grab a set of leather padded handcuffs and the matching ankle cuffs and go and set them bed.

Fiona reenters the room with a tall glass of water carried in her right hand. She glances nervously toward the bed but keeps her cool and approaches you.

"Your water Sir."

You look at it in her hand, your eyes narrow. Taking it from her you feel the cool, but not cold, glass against your skin. You bring it to your nose and sniff it but you are careful not to actually touch it. Fiona was watching you intently, but it comes as a complete surprise to her when you raise it up over her head and pour the liquid over her head. It runs down through her simple but well quaffed hair then over her face then down over her bare chest and back and finally soaking into the dress still held around her waist.

She shakes her head and wipes her eyes, smearing the pretty makeup job Elsie had done on her in the process.

"What the fuck!?" She sputters in surprise before catching herself. "Sorry...Sir. What have I done?"

"I ask for refreshment and you bring me piss warm tap water?" You say in a cold tone.

"I..."

"Did you even check for ice? Did you look to see if Chloe had bottle water? Did you even run the fucking tap and let it get fully cold?"

She stands there dripping and stunned. "Uh...I...Uhm... No Sir. I'm sorry Sir."

You place the empty glass back in her hand. "When I ask you to do something I expect it done to the best of your ability. Understood?"

Fiona eyes widen, things were getting real now. "Y-Yes Sir."

"Don't stammer."

She nods. "Yes Sir. May I get you another glass of water Master?"

You turn from her and say without looking back. "Yes."

You hear her leave as you get back to what you were doing.

You look over the selection of canes. There are six of them, everything from a slender switch to a stout rod of various materials. You choose a rattan one with a nice leather handle on it of middling thickness. You test out the feel of it in your hand and swoosh it through the air a few times and nod approvingly. Light and easy to wield but sure to sting like a mother fucker on the receiving end. This too you take to the bed and lay it down on the soft pastel bedspread like a surgeon placing their scalpel among their other surgery implements.

You could hear out in the kitchen the tap running and you smile.

Your next toy chose itself. Hanging with a place of prominence was a beautiful black and red leather flogger a bit short than the length of your arm. The handle was of stiff woven cow leather, but the mass of strands hanging down from it was a far more supple leather. It was a thing of beauty! Stepping back you spin it and twirl it a few times, even doing rapid figure 8's through the air. This you would need some advice on, thankfully you had an expert here with you.

Speaking of this expert she was just entering the room as you straighten out the flogger in its spot on the white sheets of the bed. Fiona comes to your side but does not interrupt you as you admired the item. You could sense the nervousness emanating off of her as she watched you ogle the implement of ****.

"It's beautiful, don't you think?"

"Yes Sir. It was handmade by a craftsman. It was expensive."

You nod. "Good. You have good taste."

"Thank you Sir." As you turn toward her she offers you the glass. "Your water. There was no bottled water, I am sorry."

"Don't apologize for things you cannot control, it makes your words meaningless."

"Yes Master."

This time the tall glass had two rectangular ice cubes floating in it and the sides had just a hint of condensation that showed the contents were indeed cold. She waits patiently but you do not take it from her.

"Is that a fresh glass?"

In an instant you know the answer. Her eyes dart down to the glass as if it had somehow betrayed her. "Um, no Sir. But it only held the previous water..."

"Did I ask for an explanation?"

"No Sir." She clamps her lips shut.

"Do you think presenting me with a reused glass is really doing your best?"

"No Sir. I am sorry Sir."

You then take the glass from her you see her preparing for another shower. Instead you say in a calm collected voice. "Take the ice cubes. Hold them in your hands." You hold the glass out for her.

She hesitates just a moment before reaching in with the fingers of one hand to fish out a cube, and then the other. She holds one each in the palm of each hand.

You move to the side and rest the glass of water on a nearby dresser. You then return to your sister and face her head on. As she looked at you plainly intimidated by your new persona you think back to all the times it was you staring back at her scared and unsure of what was going to happen next. This reversal was unexpected and delicious. You take the backs of her hands in your then slap them up so that ice was pressed into Fiona's exposed nipples. She gasps at the sensation. You hold her hands there for a few seconds then let them go. She obediently keeps her hands right where they were. Small trickles of water begin to trickle down her forearms as the ice melted between her palms and her nipples.

You give her a nod then without a word spin away from her.

You again return to the closet and peruse your options. Next you choose a stitched black leather paddle. It was not quite two feet long and the business end was roughly two inches across. You feel its weight, it had a metal or wooden core that ran through the handle and part way up the blade which let it keep its shape. You smack it into your palm a few times and it makes the most delightful spanking sound. This was no cheap novelty toy, this was a well crafted tool. Not surprising given it was Fiona's. You are about to turn back to the bed when you pause. On a whim you also grab shiny heavy stainless steel butt plug as well. These two items you take to the bed and lay them out with others.

Beside you Fiona was letting out nasally breaths of discomfort and you could just catch out of the corner of your eye her weight shifting between her legs as she squirmed from the icy ****.

"You may lower your hands." You say without looking her way.

She lets out a gasp as she does so. "Thank you Master. I'm sorry Master."

"This will be the last time I ask. Bring me a glass of water ****."

"Yes Sir!" Fiona hurries to the dresser, deposits the ice back in the glass, takes it, and moves quickly out the door to follow your order.

Next you choose a blindfold then a set of nipple clamps connected by short chain. Again, these you bring to the bed and place with care. You look over your line of tools fairly satisfied with what you had. You take one last trip to the closet and look things over. The last items you choose are a red marker along with a simple stiff leather dog collar with a leash. It wouldn't be THE collar, but it was something to play with. You are tempted by the gags...but deep down you wanted to hear Fiona's cries. You slide the closet door shut.

You place the final objects on the bed and look over the line of **** devices. Until this moment you weren't sure if you could truly go through with this. Now there was no doubt in your mind. The toys excited your imagination and stimulated that part of yourself that was so enjoying giving your sister orders. Nothing but the safeword would stop you now.

As she returns to the room you say. "Tell me your safeword Fiona."

She comes to a stop beside you and swallows hard. "Wiggles."

"Good girl." Turning away from her you check yourself out in the mirror and straighten your nice new clothes to perfection. New hair cut, new clothes, and a new panache. You had never looked better.

You turn toward her. Her hair and dress was still damp and heavy, the top of her dress still hanging down from her waist, her nipples erect from the cold ice, and her make up already ruined. Combine this with the wounds from the night before and she was a mess. Yet she was still just as gorgeous to you as that wonderful moment when she walked into the living room. She held the water in front of her with impeccable grace, one flat hand supporting it from below as the other held onto it lightly. You inspect the water glass but don't touch it. Again frosty with two ice cubes, this time in a fresh glass.

"Acceptable." You say flatly.

It was faint praise, but Fiona gratefully accepts it. "Thank you Sir! Thank you!"

She actually looked...proud. Proud to have brought you an "acceptable" glass of water. It was a simple thing yet it felt profound. In her pride you also see happiness flit across her face. To take joy in such a small act of service must be a new type feeling for your closed off sister, you were glad you were responsible for it. It made you happy to see her happy.

"Put it on the dresser." You say.

"Yes Sir." She follows her order.

"Return to me. Get on your knees."

She returns and lowers to stand on her knees.

"Sit down. Hands in front of you. Eyes on my feet."

Again she does so without question. She lowers her gaze to focus at your feet. She places her hands over her knees and sits her weight back to rest her butt on her heels in a perfect posture of submission. Seeing her like this made you want to collar her here and now, but if she didn't truly earn it the collar wouldn't mean a thing. You loom over her for a moment before turning and stepping away to look over the bed frame and the gear to plan your next move.

Almost as an afterthought you say. "You swore. When I poured the water on you. You said fuck."

"Yes Sir. It was poor manners. I am sorry Sir."

"I do not care for it. Don't swear in my presence."

"Yes Sir."

Pulling the sleeves of your sweater up to expose your forearms your tone gets less coldly distant and more the pitch of a firm yet passionate Master as you say. "Say that you will obey me fifty times, then crawl to my feet."

From the corner of your eye you see her bow her head. "Yes Sir." Another deep breath later she begins her mantra. "I will obey my Master. I will obey my Master. I will obey my Master." With each repetition there was more and more confidence in the words being spoken. "I will obey my Master. I will obey my Master."

You wait patiently for your sister-**** and ready yourself for the task ahead.