Saturday Night

Miss B had already made herself at home when Panties returned in the evening. Panties had called her from the restaurant where she purchased pasta cooked to order in garlic and olive oil. Panties made Miss B a salad and served her dinner with a glass of water and apple tea. Miss B watched television while Panties showered and changed into a training outfit consisting of Barbie panties and top, pantihose, and a red training nightie. Miss B was amused by the Barbie wear. She called for a belt and ordered Panties into her “favorite position.” Panties asked Miss B for a date, answering each plea with hard strokes of the belt. Soon Panties was reluctant to ask for anything. Panties requested permission to look into Miss B’s face and was allowed to kneel facing her. Panties whined about her punishment schedule lasting through March. Miss B was unwilling to allow any early squirts before April, but she told Panties that she could have instead, a nice diaper squirt on Sunday. Miss B lightly brushed off Panties’ defiant assertion of her desire to kiss a girl or have sexual intercourse. Frustrated, Panties spoke of wanting to one day touch Miss B as would a m*n. Miss B’s face darkened and she said if that happened, she would disappear and Panties would be left alone. Panties argued that she might do so to escape the lifetime Miss B planned for her. Miss B said Panties would not escape. That she would find someone cruel to take over. “You would never see me again, but you’d still be trained. There would be a knock on the door...”

And then she struck Panties in the face. Hard. Her eyes flashed with menace. “You won’t ever touch me. Or any girl. “ Her face twisted in disgust. “You are a repulsive transvestite! I want you to know how disgusting you are.” Then she hit Panties again in the face. It was almost a punch. “But you would never touch me,” she said, brightening suddenly. “You wouldn’t want to. You are not capable of behaving like that.” Panties knew this was true, that Panties’ threat, really, just daring to verbalize what would be seen as simple boorish behavior for a real m*n, was the pathetic far limits of her defiance. When Panties dared meet Miss B’s eyes, she was again the fair-haired girl-next-door. It was close to 9. Miss B hurried out to rent several DVDs leaving Panties feeling small, sissy, inferior, obedient, awed by this pretty, mercurial, girl.