Watcher
The Guv'nor
I am aware that the technical details may not be entirely
accurate, but if it bothers anyone, just move the action forward a few
years.
Rats. 9:05 p.m. Why did Blue Hawaii run overtime. It was supposed to finish
at 8:55 p.m. A brand new millennium, hi-tech state of the art technology,
and the ruddy TV channels can't even get their timing right. It's ok for
them to think "Oh just a few minutes won't matter". Well it does. At least
to me it does. It matters a lot.
I switch off the television and the lights, then hurry to my bedroom.
Quickly I undo my striped tie, slip the navy blue tunic over my head, remove
my white shirt and un-fasten my bra. Just as I am about to remove my navy
blue knickers I hear his voice. Assertive, booming and disembodied.
"You are late June. Why is that?"
I turn my eyes towards the PC.
"Look at me when I am talking to you" he commands. I turn my eyes to the
web-cam fixed in the corner of my bedroom.
"I am sorry Sir, I was watching tele......." Bad mistake. As part of my
grounding I am not allowed to watch television. He is quick to remind me of
this vital point.
"And just why were you watching television may I ask. Do not bother to
answer, because I shall tell you. It is because you are a spoiled little
brat without the self discipline to do as you are told. Is that not so?"
I swallowed hard. I felt my palms sweating, my heart beat a little faster.
"Yes Sir it is" Ridiculous to feel this way. Not only am I 35 years old, but
there is no one in the room.
And yet there is. In many ways his presence in my room is stronger than
flesh and blood. I feel him, sense him, fear and respect him. I have handed
over my life to him. I have given him control of my every moment and
movement. Web-cams watch me everywhere I go in my apartment. In the
bathroom I can feel him watching, though he never speaks. In the kitchen his
voice will say "Is that what you call breakfast? Make a proper one my girl".
In my bedroom he watches me dress. I am allowed business clothes during the
day, and though I work from home under his watchful eye, they must be modest
and sensible. My knickers are to be white or pastel colours. When I finish
work and during weekends when I am grounded, I have to change into the
school uniform. There is no compromise. His word is law. I would want it no
other way.
"Please get into your nightdress quickly" he orders. In my haste to obey I
start to fumble.
"Put your clothes away neatly, you are in enough trouble Missy".
His rebuke is like a fingernail scraped on a blackboard. I have pushed the
limits too far this time. I stand before him in my white nightdress and
await the words I know will surely come.
'I am surprised at you young lady. You were given strict instructions that
you chose to ignore. Well, you leave me with no choice. Fetch the ruler
please." My mouth opens, but my brain springs into action and changes the
"But.." to "Yes Sir, I'm sorry"
I open the drawer in which I keep the ruler. Its very old, wooden and about
eighteen inches long. It does not hurt that much when wielded by myself, but
it does sting. But pain is not the main point of the exercise, every aspect
is just part of a holistic approach to my "re-education".
I am told, "Place the chair in position please" and I obey. I do not switch
off my computer when instructed to "Lift up your nightdress and bend over -
NOW". I obey as though I were in a world and era I had never known, but
where I always felt I belonged.
"12 smacks. Start please" I reach behind and deliver the first spank. I
alternate left, right, left, right. He urges me to spank harder and I
comply. I forget the web-cam and focus on performing the task to his
satisfaction. Left, right, left, right. Finally I finish. I do not stand but
remain in position until told to move.
"Now put the ruler away and get straight to bed. Come along, get a move on..
And no lights young lady apart from a night light."
I do as I am told, I have no option. My friends will be out or watching
televison. Me? I am in bed, and he is watching me. There is just enough
light for the web-cam to be effective. As I move around in bed, I know he is
watching. Silently. Sipping a Remy Martin with his feet on a chair. He is
tall, elegant. He is whatever I want him to be.
In my mind I see him here in this room. He has carried me here - over his
shoulder like a sack of potatoes. It was he who pulled back my nightdress,
the hem gripped tightly in his hand. It was his hand that held the ruler.
The hand that stroked my hair as he kissed me gently on the forehead and
said "I had to do that for your own good", was his.
It was my hand that strayed under the bed-clothes and between my legs.. He
is watching, I know he is.
"Now, now, June, none of that." My hand stops, but my imagination continues
until sleep takes me away to a world far away.
*****
"Good morning. Rise and shine" I open my eyes and stretch. "
Good morning Sir, how are you today?" I ask.
"I am well thank you,, now come along get a move on." I get out of bed and
open my underwear drawer. My hand lingers a fraction too long on a pair of
black lacey knickers.
"Don't even think of it, if you know what's good for you" I pick the pink
ones with blue flowers instead. My whole day will be monitored and
controlled.
Some may think I am crazy, he is just a voice. I too sometimes think that,
but then I think of Mary and Judy and many others. They have "live" men in
the lives, but in reality they too are nothing more than just voices. My
man does not lack soul or feeling. His presence may not be physical, but he
provides me with the warmth and guidance I need. Yes, I know he may one day
find another and that is a chance I must take, the same as I would in real
life.
No doubt one day my feelings will change, but for now I say, "Do I really
have to eat breakfast Sir"
Mike
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Great spirits have always encountered violent opposition
from mediocre minds."
-Albert Einstein