Call Me Mistress Do Little

I delight in wreaking havoc. I always have. This new career gave me the perfect opportunity for this natural bent of mine. This business suits me-where else can you force "The Man" who is paying you, to his knees? Of course I've had bosses where, metaphorically speaking, I lead around on a leash ( I count a earnest bull dyke among them)but not literally as I was doing now.

I noticed that the cats by silent agreement had made a mass exodus from the room, so I half led, half tugged Little Mary along toward the doorway where they had gone. He mulishly pulled at his leash, but I was steadfast in my resolve to both annoy him and to explore this mausoleum as well as his masochism. I cuffed his hands behind him and created an impromptu slip knot to a ball gag that I had inserted in his mouth, making a sort of pulley. He could not move his arms without further embedding the rubber ball into his mouth. I never liked a whiner. Sink or swim. In my family we spoke of Darwinism as though it were a religion. Except I came from a family of atheist. The only way to rebel was to say you believed in God. Abandon hope all ye who enter here.

I entered a large and brightly lit kitchen. It was immaculate, yet dingy. Seldom used, organized and absolutely frigid. It made me long for The Big Room which seemed like an Indian sweat lodge by comparison. The forty or so Russian Blues were crouched over a customized cat trough and daintily and furiously eating their stinking heaps of animal product. I crinkled my nose at the smell and then had a brilliant idea.

"Come along! I bet you must be hungry. I know these rich bastards are notoriously tight fisted with the help." I looked back at him sympathetically as I dragged him to his knees and then removed the ball gag. He looked at me in disbelief. "Are you balking'? I demanded. "You told me you would do anything for me! This is NOTHING"! I shrieked the last word as I pushed his face into the plate. The cats momentarily scattered, but quickly regained their aplomb and returned to the feast. I straddled his back and I urged him to eat faster as I laughed aloud. I then led him to another trough filled with clear, fresh water and had him drink. He did so gratefully, in great gulps and kept his eyes to himself like I had instructed. I had chosen to ignore his reproachful looks. I thought I saw tears in his eyes. Little Mary wanted extreme verbal and psychological humiliation, was paying me well to do this and by God I would do it! I wasn't sure if I should feel a level of professional pride or profound guilt.

After taking a meandering stroll through mostly empty and uninspiring rooms (except for the architecture-another aristocrat down on their luck?)we ended back at the fire place with the oppressive portrait of Mama De Winter and the cast off, nearly doomed kitten in the box.

"Bring me my cigarettes and a light." He left the room at a trot and returned with the items. I took it from him and placed a ciggy to my lips and leaned slightly forward. He lit the end deferentially, eyes still on the flag stone floor. "You forgot the ashtray. So incompetent. I don't know why this family keeps you on. Mrs De Winter must be a saint". I told him to get on his hands and knees and to open his mouth and extend his tongue. I then flicked the excess ashes onto it and he blissfully consumed them. I repeated this action many times until I had smoked about a half pack and I was light headed and nauseous. I checked the time on my cell phone and glanced at my open purse, where my envelope was half sticking out. My work was done here. I told Little Mary to stay as he was until I was gone. By prearrangement a car was outside waiting for me, black and discreet. I collected my new pet and left without a word.

I had the driver drop me at a different apartment building and waved him off until he drove away. Once I was assured that he was gone, I doubled back and walked home, cooing at the kitten. I was unable to determine it's sex ( much like it's previous owner)so I decided to call it Monti because it sounded androgynous and hip. And also after my favorite card game, three card monte. Some call the game Follow The Lady or Find the Lady.

It just seemed like kismet.