The Tutor, Part 65 (End of Arc One)

“Wait-” The quiet protest slipped out half a second after the bedroom door clicked into place. I doubted that Annabelle heard it or, if she did, she wasn’t coming back in to entertain my request or chastise me for speaking out of turn.

When I got into the cage, I hadn’t expected her to just leave. Then again, I hadn’t really known what to expect. This was all so new to me, and Annabelle was so unpredictable. She could have sat down at her desk and done whatever on her laptop while I was locked up behind her. She could have fucked herself on the bed while I was an extreme definition of a captive audience. Anything but leaving me in both the literal and figurative dark.

Well, she had told me to spend the time thinking. That was something. And this was really the first moment I had been given to breathe since arriving; even the solo chores weren’t particularly cathartic, considering the maid outfit and the fact that most of the Alodia house was still so unfamiliar to me.

Glossing right over everything I had done at Trixie’s command, as well as the scantily clad servitude throughout Annabelle’s dinner, I mostly focused on what had happened since she and I stepped into her suite. There was really no denying the fact that I was into girls at this point. Despite my hesitation, everything Annabelle and I had done together had been fucking amazing. It was the rest of it that made me hesitate. 

Couldn’t Annabelle and I just, you know . . . hook up? 

The more we did together, the less I cared about the fact that she was only eighteen. She had been teasing a few minutes ago about having class, but she wasn’t wrong. The way she carried herself really did offset her age. It was all the dominant stuff that I didn’t know how I felt about. Her pet? We had barely talked about it, yet here I was. Collared, caged, and quietly contemplating my relationship with her instead of screaming about my conditions and how this was no way to treat the girl who was supposed to be her tutor.

Did I like it? I had no idea. Our sapphic experience on the sofa? Absolutely. The rest was so blurry, as my obedience had a confusing amount of overlap with our sexual experiences and what I did for her as a maid and tutor. How much of this was her being a spoiled princess and viewing me as another Trixie, vs. wanting the dynamic between us to be something that had nonstop sexual tension when there would always be the promise of things getting physical after X amount of servitude?

By the time Annabelle returned, I really hadn’t landed on anything concrete. I liked fooling around with her, and wouldn’t be opposed to doing it again. Or, bigger picture, there wasn’t a single male ex of mine who did it better than her. The pet thing was still a huge question mark. My studious self needed more experience to make an informed decision, though I wasn’t sure I wanted to have more collared time just to know for sure. Especially if it conflicted with my academic endeavors.

“Did you miss me, Mere?” she asked. Rather than flicking the switch from before, Annabelle padded through the dark room until she reached the lamp in the corner. I couldn’t blame her; overhead lighting wasn’t my favorite thing, especially later in the evening.

I had no idea how long she had been gone. Thirty minutes? Two hours? There wasn’t a clock in her room for me to reference along the way. Or maybe there was, and it was just out of sight and/or not visible in the dark. Sitting hunched over in the cage had gotten uncomfortable after a little while, and I had resigned myself to curling up and lying down on the bed for most of Annabelle’s absence. Not really trying to sleep, yet tossing and turning nonetheless on the dog bed. 

Shifting and carefully sitting up when she returned, I responded mostly out of instinct, “Yes, Ms. Annabelle.”

She was wearing the same little black dress from earlier, making me feel all kinds of self conscious as I sat there in the cage in nothing but my thong. I didn’t exactly count the collar as ‘clothes.’ With a single hand on her usual hip, Annabelle got right to it. “Well? Do you want me to fuck you again?”

My jaw dropped in surprise, and I could feel the heat rushing to my face. I absolutely wouldn’t put it like that, even if I would welcome another round of her fingers working me better than I knew how to pleasure myself. “I- umm, I think-” 

“Yes, or no? It’s not that difficult, pet.”

‘Can we talk about the tutor/maid/pet combo first?’ All that time in the cage, and I still had no clue how to approach the subject. And what she was asking was not nearly as black and white as she was presenting it. But I had been so well trained over the course of the afternoon and evening, and was nervous about getting on the redhead’s bad side when I was still in such a vulnerable state. “Y-yes, Ms. Annabelle.”

“Good girl,” Annabelle smirked. I used to think the arrogant expression was immature; now it was kind of hot. “And what are you, Mere?”

This was it. The moment of truth. She had locked me up and left me there like I was a puppy who couldn’t be trusted without direct supervision. A cage I had willingly crawled into. If I didn’t try to backpedal now, I would only end up deeper in a dynamic that I had so many mixed feelings about. Rather than protesting or trying to initiate a discussion, however, I somehow found myself mumbling, “I’m your obedient pet, Ms. Annabelle.” Because at some level, though I hadn’t fully accepted it or come close to admitting it to myself, it was what I wanted.

“That’s what I thought.” Glancing away from me and back towards the door, she said, “Come on in, babe.”

Wait, what? Someone else was here?! It definitely wouldn’t be Trixie, as Annabelle would never address her like that. 

Before I could recover from my surprise enough to find my voice, another girl was strutting in. The last girl I would ever want to see me like this.

“Hey, Mere. Cute collar,” Bridget said.