Microfantasy Monday, week 55 : Symbols

When idea for this week’s  microfantasy came to me, I thought it was a short story, easily fitting into the Microfantasy Monday parameters.  I was mistaken, it’s much longer than this, so I’ve given you the beginning to ponder until I can finish the whole.

Thanks as always to Ang, the Sweltering Celt, bringer of weekly Microfantasy Monday goodness.  The theme this week is Symbols.

I flew into the small regional airport with a bag over my shoulder, a piece of paper clutched in my hand and a smile on my face.   The piece of paper contained instructions.  They were very simple, to the point and entirely wordless.

I stepped out of the plane and looked at the paper, not that I didn’t have it memorized already.   The picture of a car, then a plus sign followed by a dollar sign indicated I was to take a taxi to my destination.   At the bottom of the sheet, another row of pictures and symbols showed a door with a bush next to it, an arrow pointing to a clothed stick figure, followed by a minus sign and a drawing showing articles of clothing.  I was to strip down outside before entering the cottage.  Another arrow pointed to a stack of items to one side of the door.  I was to take the time to fold my clothing before going inside.

I got into the taxi and gave the address to the driver.   I thought about the next instruction and felt the heat rising in my face.  She wasn’t allowing me a gradual descent into obedience, she was going to test me from the start.  I paid the taxi driver and walked toward the door slowly, hoping he’d drive away quickly.   Putting my bag down, I took a deep breath and a quick glance around.  View of the front door was only partially obscured by bushes.   I realized with a start that I had better get on with it, she was sure to have heard the taxi come and go and was probably growing more impatient with each second.   Blushing furiously, I pulled my clothing off quickly, folded it carefully and piled it on my bag.  Then I tried the door.  For a second, the stiffness of the doorknob made my heart stop, but then it turned and I slipped inside quickly.

On the floor, just inside the door, was another piece of paper.   On it, a drawing of a table with a circle and a line with a small loop at the end followed by a plus sign and the circle-arrow symbol of masculinity.   I walked to the small table not far from the front door and picked up the collar.  My collar.  This collar made me Her boy, and it wasn’t merely a symbol of Her ownership of me, putting it on would transform me.   I sighed with contentment as I fastened it around my neck.  I then picked up the leash and clipped it onto the collar.  The next set of instructions was there on the table.  It showed a stick figure on hands and knees with a collar, leash in mouth.   The arrow following it pointed to another door, upon which she’d drawn a crown.

I got down on the floor and crawled down the hallway, in the direction I presumed would lead to the master bedroom and Her.

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