To Train A Wild Rose

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Chapter 24 - Rebuild

But, in the morning, I was… like… totally amazed and… basically… overjoyed to discover that he’d popped Mr Orange into bed with me whilst I’d been sleeping.

And, as I sort of desperately cuddled my orangutan baby, I managed to work out that… just maybe… he did still care about me… a tiny little bit… after all.

And then the lights flashed and I hurriedly hopped out of bed and dropped into my lowest, humblest kow-tow thing. It was time to start showing my master how truly sorry I really was… trying to regain his trust… trying to like prove to him… and to prove to myself, I guess… that I was basically worthy of his trust.

I was back in my bathroom, of course, naked and with a shackle round one of my ankles. I wasn’t allowed any of the books, which I’d come to love, and I had to wear the blindfold whenever my master was about. But I guess that was probably for the best… I mean… at least like that, I didn’t get to see how much I’d hurt him.

He made me learn the rules backwards - word for word - which was… like… way harder than just learning them forwards… at least forwards they made some sort of sense. Of course I did it without question and, within a couple of hours, I could do it perfectly.

Then I had to repeat every single one of the maths sheets that I had already done. By now, the baby sums from the first couple were much, much too easy for me, of course, but I forced myself to keep this total concentration thing going on and I managed to finish every one of them without a single stupid mistake.

And, even though I couldn’t see him, I could tell that he was… like… pretty impressed by that.

And then he got me to write this really long essay on how I thought the whole thing had made him feel. I took my time with that and sort of totally put my soul into it. And, by the time I was done, I found that I hadn’t just written about his feelings but my own too.

And it was as I was trying to write that second bit that I managed to sort of work out just how much I had really hurt myself by my whole stupid running away thing… not just by making him do all the horrible punishment stuff to me but, more importantly, in the way I had kind of lost respect for myself. I really knew that my master only set the rules for me for my own good but, pretty much the first chance I got, I just had to go and… like… deliberately break them… break my word to him… betray his trust.

At last I was pretty much happy with the stuff I’d written and, when my master appeared, he sat down and started to read it. I had this funny sort of a feeling in my tummy as I knelt on my mat and waited for him to finish. I guess I knew it was pretty good and I sort of really, really needed him to be pleased with it.

At last I could tell he was done and I must have been really nervous because, without even thinking about it, I sort of dropped into my kow-tow thing.

“Kneel up,” he told me. I mean… I could still hear the whole hurt thing in his voice but he was as… like… gentle as any time since that whole stupid day.

I did as I was told but there was still the total butterfly thing going off in my tummy.

“You already know that this is an excellent piece of work,” he said.

In spite of how serious the whole thing was, I couldn’t help a little bit of a smile at that.

“You have earned the restoration of one privilege,” he told me. “Would you like the removal of your blindfold…. or maybe clothes… or the return of your books?”

“This girl only wants one privilege, Master,” I took a deep breath. I hardly dared to say it out loud. “She wants her master to go back to calling her ‘Babygirl’.”

At that, he left one of his silences and, to me, it was… like… the longest one ever. “Then ‘Babygirl’ it is,” he said and, at last, I could hear the smile in his voice again. “Come here, Babygirl.”

I climbed to my feet… sort of hesitantly… and walked over to him. I wasn’t frightened. I mean… I knew he was going to be nice to me. I guess I just didn’t think I really… like… deserved nice. He guided me onto his lap and wrapped me up in his arms. And, as I did my melting into him thing, I completely dissolved into tears. “I’m sorry,” I murmured through my sobs. “I’m really, really sorry, Master.”

“Hush now, Babygirl,” he told me as he squidged me extra tight. “You did it and you’ve been forgiven. You’re still being punished, of course, but when that’s finished, it’ll all be over.”

“But I don’t think I deserve to be forgiven…” I sort of heard myself murmuring back.

“That’s for me to decide,” he explained kind of quietly and patiently. “You should know by now that you don’t get any say in that sort of thing. We’ll talk no more about it”

And, as I… like… totally relaxed into him, I could sort of see that it was true, really. I didn’t have to think about the important stuff like that and, I guess, deep down inside, I was kind of happy that I didn’t have to make that sort of tricky decision. I guess that’s what being a babygirl is all about.

And, from then on, we sort of started to rebuild our life together.

I still wasn’t allowed any of my fun books, of course, but, the next day, when my master appeared, he told me that he had a couple of school type books for me. “We might as well do something useful with your punishment time,” he told me. “I’ve noticed some fairly major holes in your general knowledge. We might as well work on that.”

“What subjects?” I asked

“History and geography.”

Of course I didn’t say anything but he must have seen my heart doing this kind of sinking thing because he told me to tell him what I was thinking.

“Isn’t that sort of stuff all kind of useless?” I asked.

I must have been a bit nervous because he had to pluck my fingers out of my mouth. He popped my naughty hand back down on my lap with his two finger reminder slap type thing.

“I strongly believe that there is no such thing as useless knowledge,” he told me firmly, “but you may learn the first few thousand digits of pi instead, if you prefer.”

I went quiet for a bit then he said, “That’s your confused puppy look, isn’t it?”

I giggled and said, “Yes, Master!”

So he started explaining that pi was the ratio of the diameter of a circle to its circumference.

And I sort of had to admit that I really ought to have known that and that I had been thinking about the wrong sort of pie.

He laughed and then explained that it was a decimal number that sort of went on and on forever, ‘without ever settling into a permanently repeating pattern’.

And when I sort of understood what he was going on about, I managed to stop myself from saying, “It can’t,” because I knew he’d just get stroppy about that…

So I said, “I find that idea kind of a bit tricky to get my head around,” instead and I could hear him sort of rewarding me with his biggest smile since my whole stupid running away thing…

And I pretty much wanted to start crying with happiness… except that he’d started going on about real and rational number type stuff and it was all… like… way too interesting.

And I sort of sank into the first maths lesson that he’d given me since my stupid betrayal thing.

And then he started going on about infinity… and it took me quite a while to… like… totally get my head round that one… but once I did… like… get it, I sort of knew that I would never think about the world in quite the same way again.

Like ever!

“So, you have a choice,” he told me when he was done. “Either you learn these useless history and geography facts I’m going to set for you or…” and he left one of his totally over the top dramatic pauses, “you can learn the first five thousand digits of pi!”

“I’m not all that keen on pie!” I answered hurriedly, kind of forgetting that I was still… like… totally in trouble.

And I guess Mr M must have forgotten too because he leaned in and gave me this lovely little kiss on the cheek.

And from then on, things started to get a bit better between the two of us. He had me learning lists of kings and queens and glacial features and important battles and counties of Great Britain and that sort of stuff.

But I’d have done… like… heaps more than that to let him know how grateful I was to him for the whole sort of forgiving me bit.

Then, after another couple of days, he turned up with another one of those delightful gingham dresses - blue this time. I mean… I wasn’t complaining. It was much better than running around starkers and, anyway, I still had a shackle on one ankle so I couldn’t really have gone back to my proper clothes, even if he’d let me! At least this new one was big enough for me!

And, after another couple of weeks, things were pretty much back to normal between us as, one by one, most of my other privileges were… like… restored. I still wasn’t totally convinced that I deserved them but they were restored anyway. He’d let me take off the blindfold and my rug had come back at some stage too so I was quite comfy and relaxed as I knelt in front of him… relaxed enough to mention that I’d noticed that the history and geography textbooks that he’d got me working from were pretty old fashioned.

He gave a little laugh when he heard that. “The authors of the more… modern textbooks that I had the misfortune to consider appeared to share a particular… political and moral outlook,” he said with this totally snarky tone… I mean… probably more snarky than I’d ever heard from him before. “And their books seemed to be dedicated to the task of imposing those views on their impressionable young readers. I prefer to ensure that you simply learn the facts…”

He paused for a bit and he must have noticed that I was giving him a funny sort of a look. And he gave me a bit of a grin that kind of told me that he knew that he was having a bit of a moment. “Excuse the diatribe,” he said, “I feel quite strongly about this,”

He must have noticed my confused puppy look because he gave a little laugh and said, “Diatribe: impassioned verbal attack on something or someone.”

“Oh! You mean like where you go off on one, as usual!” Ro said before I could stop her.

He sort of paused for a moment… and I thought that maybe I had got away with it… and, I suppose, in a way, I had because he was still smiling as he hoiked me up off the floor, span me round in mid air and laid me, face down, over his lap.

Everything down below sort of tensed up as he folded the back of my dress up, exposing my bare bottom - of course, with the whole ankle shackle thing going on, I couldn’t sensibly wear knickers - and I lay there, waiting for the first slap to land. But, instead of that, he confused me by handing me a pad of yellow sticky notes and a pen. “Diatribe,” he said and I realised that he expected me to write the stupid word down for him… with my bare bottom…. like… all exposed for his spanking pleasure.

I knew I really ought to be… like… totally narked with him for doing this teasy-type torturing thing to me except that, for some reason that I couldn’t even nearly understand, something down there almost seemed to be kind of looking forward to that slap… I mean… things were even getting… like… sort of… a little bit squidgy down there.

Yuk!

“D…” he said and I did my best to write it down for him… “I…” but it was basically really hard to concentrate… “A…” when I knew his hand was poised… “T…” just inches from my bottom… “R…” that was kind of looking forward to that slap… “I…”

What the actual…

I was… like… so totally shocked by the thought that I was actually looking forward to that slap that I totally lost my place. “Master!” I protested. “This just isn’t fair!”

“That’s true, I suppose,” he said and I could have sworn he sounded a bit… like… regretful about it.

So of course I relaxed…

So of course he chose that moment to give my bottom a sharp, stingy, little slap… and it sent all sorts of totally wild and wacky surges through my lady bits!

But I didn’t get a chance to grumble because, by the time I had recovered enough to think, he’d sort of hoiked me up again and spun me around before plonking me down on the bed. “Ankle!” he said.

Because of the whole bottom whacking thing, I was… like… way too distracted to think about what that actually meant until he had already unlocked that final shackle. I was also too distracted to think about the fact that I was putting all my squidginess on display for his viewing pleasure… and probably for his smelling pleasure, too.

Yuk!

‘But then again, who knows…’ I sort of found myself thinking… ‘he probably likes it or something!’

That’s the kind of man he is!

He helped me to stand up and then, still sort of holding tightly onto his hand, I let him lead me out of that bathroom.

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