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Monday, November 14, 2005

I continue to clean your lap, focusing on the larger pieces of crust, then attempting to get the filling off your pants with my tongue. By this time I am almost certain we are alone with the waitress. I hear her shoes (soft soles) approaching us, and then her footsteps are joined by those of a woman in high heels.

"Janice," calls a man from the other side of the diner, "What are you doing?" "Hush Arthur, I'm finding out what all the commotion was about."

Janice approached our booth, stopping a few inches from my feet. "You, under the table, what ARE you doing?" she demanded.

"My slut is fulfilling the requirements of her punishment," you calmly respond. "She understands that she will be punished when another woman makes mistakes."

"So what exactly is your relationship with this woman?" Janice asks. "I am her Master, and she is my slave, Slut. We are both happy with this relationship, in case that is your next question."

"And she is being punished because someone else messed up?" "Yes. I have no control over the waitress, so my slut is performing the punishment she would otherwise have received."

"Wow," Janice says softly, "I wish I had a Master like you."

I, under the table and almost finished with my punishment growl softly (but not softly enough) "My Master." You grasp my hair just a little tighter and raise my face until I meet your eyes. I can see the disappointment there, as well as a little excitement - you want me to accept this, but you are also pleased that I care enough to feel threatened. I lower my eyes, and you go back to stroking my hair as you respond to Janice, "Prove to me that you are worth my attention. Convince this waitress to take her own punishment and release my slut from completing it for her."

I redouble my efforts to clean your lap, as I am afraid she might just succeed, and I don't want to give up my punishment or my access to your lap to anyone.

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