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14.
It was Monday and I thought I might hear from her after classes. The longer I had considered the matter, the more certain I became that she would call.
Little Miss Goody Two Shoes would be battling it out with the inner slut. In order for either of side of her nature to win, she would have to have a dialogue with me.
She knew I was in the book but I hadn't given her my cell number. I didn't trust her to leave a message on the machine, so here I sat. In effect, I had temporarily turned the tables on myself. Waiting for a call had made me her prisoner and it was irritating me. Any form of waiting has always seemed like a stint in purgatory.
While I might have to wait, I need not be bored to death doing so. I punched one of the speed-dial keys on my phone.
"Tanna? It's Alan…. Are you free this evening? … Yes, as a sub. ...Good. I think it might amuse me if you were wearing something very chic and expensive.. I'll be waiting, ciao."
Tanna was a professional switch and catered to both dominant and submissive clients. She was expensive but talented. Being slavishly waited on might help to relieve the tedium. Thinking of Miara, I loaded the CD player with Edith Piaf and poured my self a tall glass of Famous Grouse.
"Non! Rien de rien.
Non! Je ne regrette rien…
C'est payé, balayé, oublie.
Je me fous du passé."
The throaty voice caressing the soft lyrics had me feeling pretty laid back by the time the door chimes sounded. A glance at the Videoguard showed me that it was Tanna and buzzed her through the lobby.
She walked in wearing a gunmetal gray evening suit with silver accessories, looking as though she might have just come from a studio at Vogue. Tanna was a tall, slender woman and every centimeter of her was elegant. She handed me a sterling evening clutch. After depositing a generous check inside, I hung it with her jacket in the closet.
"You look very tense, Master. What can your pet do to relax you?" she purred.
"A fresh drink would go well for a start." I said.
She made her way over to the bar while I walked out on the terrace. I set down the cordless phone I had been dragging around with me and stretched out on one of the lounges.
Tanna handed me a generous crystal glass of scotch. She folded herself gracefully onto the tiles at the foot of the lounge. With my eyes closed, I felt her unlace my shoes and slip them off. I heard her whisper in a little girl's voice,
"Eeny, meeny, miney, moe."
She chose the left foot and I felt her mouth close over its toes. I cracked an eye and saw that she was using her teeth to slowly tug off my sock. Leaving the sock between her teeth, her hands captured my foot. Using the balls of her thumbs, she began pressing the tension from the center of the arch to the outside edge of the sole. Her strong thumbs worked from the base of the heel up to the pads behind the toes. Again and again, she sought out the tiny tension devils and drove them relentlessly toward the toes. Then using both hands, she was squeezing and pulling the length of my foot with a milking technique. My eyes closed again and I let my entire body sink into a mist of enveloping tranquility.
Over an hour had evaporated when she finally released my other foot. Tanna had once sworn to me that being spanked on her bare bottom was her biggest turn on. Of course such an avowal was to be expected given her avocation. Still, when I had last obliged her, she had apparently had a scream of a cream. She had even gently refused the little extra something that I often pressed on her. I'd had every intention of warming her up for a little sex to pass the time but her ministrations and the scotch had left me soporific.
"Slave Tanna thinks her master should have a tongue bath to stimulate him. I can clean all the hard to reach places. I'd love to lick between your toes and fingers and in and around your ears. I would suck the sweat from your armpits. I would even scour the crack of your ass with my tongue. By the time I'm gently rolling your balls around inside my wet mouth, I think Master will have recovered all of his power.
A man would have to be a cretin not to be tempted by such a lascivious depiction of delights. No wonder they say cleanliness is next to godliness. Such a treatment could make a mere man feel like a god.
"May this slave crawl to your bed and wait for you, Master?"
I managed to keep a straight face and I told her to drag her ass to my bed on her belly and kneel there with her worthless tongue hanging out until I saw fit to avail myself of it.
If she was expensive, she also played a fun game. It was one woman in a million that could look stylish dragging her belly across a carpet. I glanced at my watch. It was pushing ten. Pretty late for a school marm, I thought. If she were going to call it would be soon. Edith, the timeless bitch goddess of love and despair and all things French, was now growling her way through 'emporte-moi'.
"Take me down," I translated, "Carry me to your country. Tear me from the world where I live. Carry me far, far from here."
I was on my way to the bedroom when the lobby rang. I knew instantly that instead of calling she'd come in person. This was better than I could have hoped for. What a stroke of chance having the talented Tanna here. I could use her as a further challenge to Miara's conception of herself.
Yes, there she was on the lobby monitor, biting her lip. I buzzed her in and went to the bedroom. I stuck my head in the door and instructed Tanna to remain there quietly unless she was called. On my way to the front door, I stopped and took two wooden clothes hangers from the hall closet.