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Review This Story || Author: Azazel

The Tomgirl and the Butterfly

Chapter 21 Dreams and Accidents

Chapter 21 – Dreams and Accidents

Charlotte found removing the clamps and panties incredibly difficult. On entering her bedroom she had placed her fairy cup full of brandy in a corner out of sight of the security camera and hastily pulled the sadistic panties down. She uttered a sigh of relief as the bristles ceased their inhuman abuse of her inflamed and raw vagina.

After hours from suffering the spiky ministrations of the panties, her crotch felt as if it had been rubbed raw. She ignored an urge to look at her genitals in the mirror, imagining that her labia must appear inflamed, scraped and tortured.

The panties discarded into a corner of the room, she lay down on her bed and slowly removed the first clamp that entrapped her outer labia. She immediately regretted taking the slow approach as the blood flow returned to the tormented flesh and her agony blossomed ten fold. She bit back a squeal and quickly dealt with the remaining teethed clamps. Having removed the clamps she laid back on the bed, her skirts still gathered about her waist as she tried to will away the ever-present, but thankfully diminishing pain.

Slowly she reached down and gently felt about her crotch, dreading that she would find herself permanently damaged despite Mr Campbell's reassurances. Her gentle probing fingers relayed their findings: the constant strain of the springs on her nether lips had stretched them brutally, but already the pliant flesh was contracting back to its normal state. The sharp teeth of the clamps had left wicked indentations on her skin, but again the severe evidence of her punishment would likely fade with time.

Further probing revealed that she was terribly tender, but otherwise unhurt. Suddenly, with her hand brushing over her inner core she felt fluid – shocked and alarmed at the possibility that she was bleeding she immediately withdrew her hand to investigate the liquid. Her closer examination appalled her.

Not blood, but warm, clear fluid.

She wished it had been blood.

Thinking back through the evening she failed to remember being aroused, she remembered the pain of the panties, the humiliation of having to bend over in front of Mr Campbell to be inspected, the fear she had felt as she covertly smuggled brandy out of the decanter, her growing anxiety as the night had progressed along with Mr Campbell's drunkenness; at no stage could she consciously remember feeling the familiar flutter of butterflies.

She lay on her bed: ashamed, feeling dirty. 'How? Why?' She asked herself.

A feeling of spiralling despair wracked her mind as she considered just what sort of dirty, filthy girl would be inadvertently stimulated by the punishment that had been inflicted on her.

Visions of spanking and dreams of incarceration were one thing; but this episode spoke of a deeper malaise, a darker side to her emergent sexuality that confused and appalled her. Unsure of how to react to her discovery, Charlotte took stock of her circumstances.

Here she was lying on her quaint little bed, her blue Pooh Bear dress pulled up to her waist, her clean-shaven naked vagina clearly displayed, and her hand covered in the glistening proof of her body's treachery for all to see… including Mr Campbell's camera.

Panic struck.

Hurriedly she pulled her skirts down and rolled off her bed, racing to retrieve the punishment panties from the corner into which she had thrown them. How could she have been so stupid!

She withdrew to the bathroom to check the crotch of the panties; luckily she found no telltale marks on them. To make doubly sure however, she turned the tap on in the basin and carefully washed the bristles to remove any remaining residue. Her task complete she shoved the infernal blue and white knickers into the laundry chute. Next she stripped off her dress, socks and shoes and began running the shower. Hurriedly combing out her hair she stepped into the shower to wash away the far more incriminating evidence between her legs.

Thoughts charged through her mind as she rinsed away her sins, would Mr Campbell watch the tape? Did he review her every move – or did some of the footage that was captured escape his notice? In his near-comatose state it would be highly unlikely that he had been watching her on the bed just now.

Maybe he wouldn't ever see what had just happened. She desperately hoped so.

Now clean, Charlotte wrapped herself in a newly laundered fluffy towel and moved back into the bedroom. Quietly she retrieved the fairy cup and looked about the room. Studying the camera's orientation, she noted that there were no hiding places in the room that weren't in the camera's line of sight. She would have to hide it in plain sight or conceal it somehow. Her gaze ran over her desk and to her copy of "The Adventures of Isabelle". Keeping the cup out of the cameras sight she moved to the desk and pulled the book out of its niche. Taking particular care to make sure her body was blocking the camera's view she pushed the brandy filled receptacle into the book's niche before carefully returning the book to its place, effectively hiding the cup from sight.

Her clandestine tasks completed, Charlotte returned to her bed to get changed for bed. Her ballerina sleeper sat on the bedside table and she cringed as she unzipped the pink flannelette pyjamas and pushed her feet into the enclosed booties before zipping herself into the infantile clothing.

---

She stood naked in a huge shifting room; everything appeared to be twice the size that it should have been. She was late – she knew that, but for what she couldn't remember. She was supposed to get dressed first – but where were her clothes? He would be angry if she didn't hurry up.

Where were they? Panic welled up inside her; she looked all around the constantly morphing and shadowy room looking for something, anything to put on to cover her naked body.

He was waiting for her…

He would be mad…

Increasingly frantic she searched every corner of the big room – there had to be something to wear, where had she put her clothes? What would He do to her if she were late? Would she have to go to Him un-clothed?

Just as her fear reached a crescendo she noticed that they had been here all the time – right in front of her. There it was, her favourite party dress – He liked that one. Suddenly she was wearing it and He was there. Tall, handsome, strong, she felt Him in the room.

Now she was walking through a long hallway hand-in-hand with Him, they were going somewhere, He had told her it was a special place that she would like a lot. She skipped along happy in the knowledge that He was here with her.

Up the stairs they climbed, they seemed to go on forever, around and around and around in a spiral they climbed. It got darker, she felt scared but He held her hand to reassure her.

There was a door – a big wooden door that loomed far above her, she couldn't reach the doorknob – but He could. He opened the door and she looked in. Suddenly she was pushed into the cold stone room and she stumbled to her knees.

He stood above her, slamming the door behind her. "You shall never escape – never!" Now He was terrible and dark, shadows loomed behind him, threatening and ominous.

She was chained, dangling from the ceiling in the cold stone tower. He stood in front of her as she begged for Him to let her go.

"No – I will have you, I will always have you. You are mine forever..." She closed her eyes as she felt Him lift her skirts, his hard-harsh hand on her inner thigh. She knew that the whip would soon embrace her body. It's cruel tongue wrapping around her imprisoned straining body…

---

"Charlotte… Charlotte, Miss Charlotte, wake up please." Bosker, the butler was gently shaking the sleeping girl as she lay hugging one of her pillows. The sun had risen and was shining brightly through the window above her bed. She stirred slowly as she was an unusually heavy sleeper: "What… what, I'm asleep, go away: sleeping."

"Miss Charlotte, you have to wake up, the Master would like to see you in the dining room immediately." Bosker gently continued to try and rouse her from her deep slumber.

" - sleeping, I'll get up soon, just five more minutes." She rolled onto her other side, dragging her pillow with her, one pink sleeper clad leg wrapped around the frilled pillow.

"No I'm sorry Miss Charlotte, right now; Master Campbell must leave for work and requires your presence immediately."

"Oh! I just want to sleep – can't you leave me alone…" Had her father been there he would have attested to the fact that Charlie was one of the crankiest, grumpiest morning people in existence. He regularly had to wake her up four or five times before she eventually dragged herself out of bed, particularly if she had been up late watching sport. Not helping this particular morning was the fact that she hadn't gotten to bed until just after midnight last night. She was accustomed to at least eight hours sleep, and had barely managed five.

"Now Charlotte, I'm sorry you have to get up now, but I really don't want to have to give you a black spot…"

"Alright, alright, alright, I'm getting up… in a minute."

"No. Now."

"OK!" She swung her legs over the side of the bed and sat up. Evil hair fairies had assaulted her during the night and part of her long shock of dark brown hair was stuck to the side of her face. She sat on the edge of her bed rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. Slowly she took in her surroundings, slowly emerging from her deep sleep.

She stood groggily and started toward the shower. Her inner thighs felt… sticky.

"There's no time for that now Miss Charlotte. You can shower after you see Master Campbell – he needs to leave very soon."

"Why now? Can't it wait till tonight?" She asked carefully, even in her sleepy fog-like state she realised that she had to wash herself down below before being presented to Mr Campbell.

"Apparently not, he was quite insistent, come along."

As the Butler turned his back to lead her from the room Charlotte looked down to see whether her body's betrayal was visible… to her infinite horror, it was.

She tried to will her sleep clogged brain into motion, a ruse was in order, just enough to give her time to clean herself up.

"At least let me go to the potty please Bosker, I'm busting…" She crossed her legs and thrust her hand in between her thighs, indicating that she very much needed to go to the toilet, right now.

"Alright, but hurry up, I'll be waiting in the hallway."

Charlotte worked quickly; she pulled her sleeper down around her thighs and sat on the toilet. Taking handfuls of toilet paper she hurriedly cleaned away her nightly emissions. She met difficulties however in removing the small wet patch on her pyjama's crotch. Remembering that Mr Campbell had promised her a full day in the punishment panties if she soiled herself again, she tried desperately to think of a way to camouflage herself.

She didn't have time to change; Bosker was already knocking politely on the door asking her to hurry up. Suddenly a haze-induced thought occurred to her. She couldn't remove the stain, so she'd cover it up. She flushed the toilet and began running the tap, she scooped handfuls of water onto the crotch of her sleeper, successfully ridding the pyjamas of the small stain but soaking the entire crotch area. In her sleep-deprived state she figured that it was better to pretend to have suffered an "accident" than to have soiled her panties during the night and face the entire day being assaulted by the punishment bra and panties.

Her pitiable cover-up completed she pulled the sleeper back on and opened the door shyly to the aging Butler. Bosker immediately looked down at the bashful Charlotte: "What happened here?" He asked.

"I had an accident, I couldn't get my jim-jams off quick enough. Can I please change?"

"No time for that Miss Charlotte, Mr Campbell will have to deal with this."

With that Bosker led Charlotte, still dressed in her cute little pink ballerina sleeper, now complete with soaked crotch, toward the dining room. She was in the middle of a long powerful yawn when she entered to find Mr Campbell standing at one of the windows, gazing out over the bustling early morning city. He had apparently just finished breakfast, with his steaming coffee cup half-full and the remains of some bacon and eggs evident on a plate at the glass-topped table. The maid waited on him near the door to the kitchen area and she failed to hide a smirk as Charlotte, her hair askew and her mouth wide open in the midst of a gigantic yawn, entered the room.

"Good Morning Charl- What have you done to yourself?" He asked incredulously pointing toward the vast wet crotch on her pink sleeper.

"I couldn't get my Jammies off quickly enough when I went to the potty this morning…" She stared down at her feet, avoiding Mr Campbell's piercing gaze.

"Well – this is entirely unexpected. Have you had this problem before Charlotte?"

"No sir, not since I was little." She kept on looking at her pink flannelette clad feet, her plan seemed to be working - he'd taken her ruse in hook, line and sinker.

"Well, this is indeed unfortunate. Are you feeling alright Charlotte, you're not sick or anything are you?" His voice was delicate, calming; yet she still kept up her pretence of being incredibly embarrassed.

"No sir, I feel ok. I'm just embarrassed."

"Hmmm... Well I won't keep you long. I wanted to talk to you about your accumulated gold stars. You have a number of stars that have not yet been redeemed; I was wondering whether you had any requests, would you like an outing, some more jewellery, what would you like?"

"Actually Mr Campbell I really need a pen, paper and wastebasket in my room to do homework for Mistress Heinz." She didn't of course, but Charlotte had just worked out how to get another of the ingredients she needed for her escape.

"Of course, but I would have supplied those anyway if you had asked. Is there anything else? A new teddy bear? A pretty party dress?" His eyes lit up with the last suggestion, providing Charlotte with a reminder that he had an agenda of his own here, for all his talk of her being his responsibility, of looking after her, he still wanted to get his own perverse kicks out of her while she lived this nightmare.

"A party dress sounds very nice Mr Campbell," she put on her best grin, "- but, it gets very boring in my room by myself – I thought maybe you could get me a cable television?"

"Sorry Charlotte, no cable. But how about I arrange a DVD player with a TV? You will be allowed to select a movie each night to play if you like."

"Oh - thankyou Mr Campbell."

"Okay, well that's dealt with. Now I'm a bit concerned over this mornings 'accident' Charlotte. I'm afraid that I will be cancelling your lessons and you will spend the day in the nursery."

"The nursery Mr Campbell?" She hadn't heard of the nursery before now, what the hell was going on here?

"Yes, perhaps you need some 're-training' in the 'accident' department… yes, I think that is entirely appropriate. Bosker and Madeline: can you arrange it please? Let Mistress Heinz know that her services will not be required today. Wish her a good weekend and ask for her to return on Monday morning. Hopefully by then we will have this small setback ironed out; isn't that right Charlotte?"

"Sir?" Charlotte looked up at him incredulously. This nursery thing didn't sound good. Had she made a miscalculation? She had thought herself so smart in avoiding the punishment bra and panties by pretending to have wet herself – was she going to regret her deception?

Mr Campbell dismissed her and Bosker led her back to her room, only after leaving the dining room did she remember that she had forgot to ask Mr Campbell whether he'd reviewed the playroom's tape from yesterday.


Review This Story || Author: Azazel
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