HOW IT WILL BEGIN

She couldn't help fidgeting; her leg bounced and her ankle wagged nervously as her eyes fixated on the phone.  A quick darting glance at the wall showed less than a minute was left.  Her leg twitched even quicker as she turned her gaze back to the phone.

Tick.  Tick.  The clock was digital, but the sound still resonated in her head.  Twenty.  Nineteen.  The phone would ring, precise, exact - just like him.

When the beeping sound pierced the air she nearly fell forward, arm lashing out to grab the phone and bring it to her ear.  Her eyes bulged as she opened her mouth to speak; her lips snapped shut before she did.  Then her full attention was caught as he spoke.

"You will wear a simple white blouse with a navy blue skirt, knee length, smooth and without a crease.  Beneath will be a black lace bra and matching black lace panties.  Arrive on time or you will be penalized, and from you have reported this week, we will be quite busy as it is.

"Do not disappoint me."

There was no disconnection sound.  He was gone, and he meant business.  She put the phone down carefully and went to the bedroom to rummage through the closet.  Five minutes of careful searching degenerated into ten minutes of panic as she realized one of her two pairs of navy blue skirts was missing; the other was poking out of the hamper in the far corner.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck..."  The words slipped out as her hands pawed through the back of her closet and the top shelf; banged the drawers of her dresser as she pulled them open.  She tried to think of everything she'd reported, every rule she'd broken.  She'd scrawled each confession neatly by hand and placed them in the manila envelopes he gave her, slid them through the slot of his locker in the postal office.  It had been a chaotic week, so many things had gone wrong, she should have known he would expect this, why couldn't she just find the goddamn...!

There!  It was poking out from under the bed.  It must have fallen off when she was folding the clean laundry.  She unfolded it to make sure it held no creases, brushed it carefully with her hand, smoothing it.  Kicking her clothes off to adorn her new ensemble, she paused by the mirror, looked at the clock, and cursed again.  Sixteen minutes.  She could be there in twelve, traffic willing, but that could be cutting it close...and tonight, she didn't want to take any chances.

The side streets took a few extra minutes, but they allowed her to avoid all traffic lights.  She parked the car and made it to the secured door of his home, with a little over a minute to spare.  Her heart was hammering and she tried to catch her breath as she pressed the buzzer that would let her in.

Nothing happened.  The front door was still locked, no buzz rang out.  Her heart became a furious drum and she began to look about with wild, panicked eyes as his hand caught her wrist.

"I thought it best to meet you out here, and escort you down," he told her, a faint smile etched into his face.  This was not a warm smile, nor a smirk.  It was devoid of all feeling.  He was very good at revealing only what he wanted others to see, when he chose, and experience had taught her to accept it.  Defying him was unwise.

He kept hold of her wrist as he unlocked the secured door, guiding her inside and down the stairs and before the door of his home.

She took a deep breath and smiled for him.  "May I enter, please?"

"You may."  No emotion at all.  Her hands trembled as he opened the door.  She entered first and as he entered after her, she closed the door and knelt down.  He offered one foot to her, then the other.  She dutifully removed his shoes and placed them neatly with the others.  She then removed her own shoes, careful to keep her eyes down, and resumed kneeling, waiting for him to speak.

"Follow, on all fours," he intoned, turned away from her, and she crawled after him.  He led her to the room where she knew they would discuss her reports.

Where she would confess everything to him and accept his judgment.

Where he would punish her so that she could be perfect for him, again.

She stopped at the door's edge, waiting as she felt him lift her hair, place the collar on her neck, heard the leash snap into place.  He tugged her across the room and she whimpered, as much from fear as anticipation.  She needed to be perfect for him, it would hurt - and it made her skin flush with heat knowing that from beginning to end of what was to come, she would be at his mercy.

She half hoped he would have none.  He rarely did.