Quick Washes

Tiptoe

by xangoh

Tags: #brainwashing #D/s #Master/slave_language #microfiction

“Tiptoes.”

It was all He said to her. She had been squatting naked on the floor in the unheated room, in the coldest corner of the room, alone, for what felt like forever. Her arms were wrapped around her knees—not for any warmth it could give her, but to keep her hands out of play—and the pain now of pressing her whole weight up on the balls of her feet was that much worse for the sense she was just a hair away from losing her balance and pitching over.

Her calves ached terribly. By the time she got more or less stable her whole body was trembling, and she was near tears. She was desperate to think her obedience might fail. She found a spot on the far wall to focus on and tried to use it to steady her breathing, the way He’d taught her to.

He walked over: slow steps, deliberate, like every step was a thought. Like every step was a thought He was taking away from her. She had so many fewer of them now. He stood looming over her. She didn’t dare to try looking up. “Hard work,” He said dispassionately.

“Yes Daddy,” she squeaked. She could barely get the words out for the effort to stay upright.

She was feeling very sorry for herself now, the way she always did when she was hitting her limit, and the tears were coming. She couldn’t keep herself from sniffling. He took a knee. Sometimes He punished her for crying, but now He just sort of clucked His tongue and wiped one of the tears off her cheek. His touch only set her trembling harder.

It was too much. It felt like her thighs were going to spasm. “Please Daddy,” she whispered.

“Please what?”

She whimpered. “Please Daddy make it easier,” she said, her voice failing, and she choked off a sob at the end.

He sighed heavily, and shifted to rest on His other knee.

She wasn’t asking right. She could tell He was disappointed in her. What was wrong with her that she couldn’t just say what she needed? When He’d already given her the words! She wished He’d hit her or something, so she wouldn’t have to feel so bad. Push her over and let her crack her stupid skull. She swallowed hard and stared at the wall and tried to ignore that His eyes were boring into her from the side. “Please Daddy,” and she lost her breath from shaking and had to start again, “Please Daddy Your weak slut begs You for trance.” The sob broke through this time, and she thought the force of it would topple her, but He caught her shoulder in His hand and steadied her till it passed.

“Always some nugget of pride we have to dig out.” He sounded almost resigned. She hated herself for giving Him so much trouble. He stood up.

And when He did she was in trance. Just like that. Or maybe she’d been in trance. She had no idea how He worked it. All she could tell was, she wasn’t holding on anymore. She was free from it, whatever it was. Nothing to do or to think in the whole world but obey. Trance was a gift, and somehow it always surprised her how much she loved being given it.

“Focus on your toes,” she heard Him say. His voice seemed to come from some high place a long way away, but she heard it with complete clarity. “Feel the strength flowing into them. Let your toes think ‘higher’ and let your heels think ‘lower.’ No effort at all. Feel yourself lifted. Your heels come slowly to the floor and as they do your toes are raising you, high, as high up as you can go."

It made perfect sense. Everything in trance made sense. She couldn’t think what she’d been upset about before. She felt the lift come from her toes, easy and powerful, her heels balancing and supporting till they were fully on the floor and she was all but floating in mid-air. She felt as it she were being dangled from the ceiling by a rope, only the very tips of her toes maintaining her in contact with the earth.

She swayed there, arms around her knees, a mindless dangly bauble, blissfully obedient. He reached a hand down and stroked her hair. In the instant before the sound of His snap blanked her she felt her heart surge, and she thanked Him from the bottom of it, for His patience, His belief in her, His unyielding will to break her into the slave whore she had always been meant to be.

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