She reachedout her hand and held him by the chin. "Have you?" she asked."Yes Mistress." You mean you have not touched yourself without my permission?"...No Mistress."Upon seeing Mannix's eyes dilate and how he tried to look away from herwhen he answered, she knew with all her Wiccan powers he was lying."Remain kneeling," she said.Mistress Charlotte then stood up, went across the room and into hercloset. She pulled out her leather, boned whip and glided back acrossthe floor to her chair. She sat. She fidgets nervously, excitement giving way to anxiousness as he continues to ignore her. Finally, after what seems like long minutes—though couldn't possibly be longer than one—Mr. Smith sets down his pen, closes his book, and looks up at her. The sensation she gets when their gazes lock feels a lot like vertigo, she reckons, as she tries to calm her breathing. Mr. Smith isn't wearing his glasses, and she feels like she's being pinned to a table as his pale eyes bore through her. "Miss. More

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