The List 5: Ankles are for Being Hobbled

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From Part 4

“Ugggggggggggggg.” An animal sound came from somewhere deep inside her, and slowly, reluctantly, opened her legs and slid away from his tongue, suddenly sensitive but wanting to hold into the sensation as long as possible. “Come here.” She motioned him up onto the bed, and he slid onto it until he was lying beside her. She pulled him hard against her and kissed him. “Good boy.” She stroked his hair, and finally opened her eyes. “Good boy. I can’t wait to hobble you.”

She pushed herself off the bed, and mussed his hair with her hand. “In fact…” She hauled a couple of short lengths of rope out of the dresser drawer, and walked back over to him. “Up on the bed.” He sat on the bed facing her, and she placed the palm of her hand flat against his chest and shoved. He fell back on the bed, and she picked one leg up, and began wrapping rope around his ankle.

She grabbed his other leg, and wrapped the rope around the other ankle. She left him with about four inches of slack, and dropped his legs. “I need a snack, you get to vacuum the living room.”

He looked at her, and rubbed his jawline. “Vacuuming? That is so hawt.” He hit the a and w hard, leering at her.

She chuckled and rolled her eyes. “Don’t worry, I’ll find a way to make it fun. For me at least. In the mean time, you need to show me those ankles are for being hobbled, and the carpet needs to be cleaner.”

He stood up and started to lean in for a hug, then stumbled and sat back down. She laughed and nodded. “And you thought vacuuming wouldn’t be hawt? I’m going to enjoy watching you, I think it will have that kind of baby horse taking its first steps sort of cuteness.”

She leaned over and kissed his forehead, then went to the kitchen. He stood up again, and minced across the bedroom to the closet. Short, inefficient steps, the ropes jerking his legs to a stop far sooner than he would have liked. His feet ached from the caning, a dull burning every time he took a step. He sighed, pulled the vacuum cleaner out, and shuffled it towards the living room.

She wolf whistled as he bent over to plug in the vacuum, and grinned around her peanut butter and jelly sandwich as he shimmied his ass in mock seduction. The vacuum roared to life, and he started moving across the room, etching parallel lines in the carpet, back and forth.

She sighed and took a sip of water, watching his awkward gate as he moved across the room. Controlling him, taking away his strength and speed, leaving him vulnerable, where she could…

He yelped and stumbled as she kicked him in the ass. He forced himself upright using the vacuum as a kind of cane, and turned it off. The dull roar died and he turned his head to frown back at her. “Was that necessary?”

She raised an eyebrow and he hobbled a few steps further from her, rubbing his ass. She giggled and shook her head. “No, but it was entertaining. Expect more as you clean in front of the couch, for I have decided I like to pounce.”

He rolled his eyes but turned back on the vacuum and slowly worked it across the carpet, enjoying the activity in spite of himself. It wasn’t a big challenge, but it was something physical to overcome, a feeling of mastering his body and pushing it in new directions for her, accomplishing something tangible and useful. Pushing through the pain of the soles of his feet from the caning, and forcing his body to continue when it wanted to stop. He turned around and crossed the room again, letting the vacuum cleaner thump against the couch, and sighing as he turned around. He considered waiting for it but knew that wasn’t the game, and started shuffling forward again.

The heel of her foot caught him in the fleshy part of his ass again, and he dropped his knees to lower his center of gravity, then stood back up, recovering his balance. Working his way across the carpet and back again, each time her foot thudding into him, watching the floor get cleaner and feeling his body get more confident in the short, restricted steps.

Finally, he worked the cleaner around the perimeter of the room and shut if off near the couch. He hopped over and she curled her legs up under her as he flopped down on the cushion, sighing as his aching feet signaled their relief. He raised his legs and dropped them over the end of the couch, letting them hang, and putting his head in her lap, looking up at her. “All done ma’am.”

She set aside her water and used her hands to smoosh his face into different shapes, squeezing his cheeks and pulling on the skin. “Not a bad job, even. Too bad you’d make such a hideous woman, or I might turn you into a maid.”

He laughed, and arched his neck to look up at her. “You’ve seen the pictures from when I had long hair and put in pigtails. It was not pretty.”

She winced, and nodded back. “Yeah, no cross-dressing for you. I think you personally destroyed the Catholic Schoolgirl Fetish for every single person at that party. Even for the women who were actual Catholic Schoolgirls.”

“I’m still kind of proud of that actually.”

She sighed. “Of course you are, because what’s a day without destroying some part of a person’s life that gives them pleasure, you malevolent jerk-face.”

She smashed his lips together with one hand before he could answer, and finished her glass of water with the other. “If you need to use the bathroom, I suggest you do it now. Meet me in the bedroom for, remind me, what’s next on the list?”

He winced, remembering how writing the words had seemed like a good idea at the time. “Its legs are for being beaten, ma’am.”

She smiled, and looked at the ceiling. “You’re right, I’d forgotten that one. I was going to go straight to shoving things in your ass. But that sounds like a lot more fun when you can’t get away, when your legs are so sore you can’t even stand let alone walk.”

She slid out from under him, and walked towards the bedroom. “Put the vacuum away, take care of any of your disgusting biological needs, and meet me in the bedroom. Enjoy walking, because it might be the last time you do it without pain for awhile.”

Preview: Legs are for being beaten! 🙂

Copyright Jerry Jones. Unauthorized use is prohibited.