March/April 2001
The Not Perfect Yellow Rose
by Colleen

On every visit my Mistress always requires me to bring her one Perfect Yellow Rose. Whilst I have no problem at all in wanting to carry out my Mistresses request, the logistics of producing one can be very difficult indeed. It turns out that for some reason Yellow Roses are the least lasting of Roses and therefore flower shops are reluctant to keep supplies unless there is a real demand. I have had to scour Phoenix from end to end to find even one shop that had a rose. Then there are the logistics of keeping the rose perfect from purchase to arrival. As you may guess in mid summer in Phoenix you cannot leave it in your car for several hours after purchase. I had been successful every time to date in delivering a suitable rose to my Mistress and on this particular day I had again managed to find a shop on my way to her house which said they had yellow roses. So I stopped by and requested a Perfect Yellow Rose. A suitably beautiful one was duly wrapped and I departed. It was however a very hot day and even with the air conditioning full on it was hot in my car. However I drove straight to Mistresses house where I arrived the necessary 10 minutes early. I then circled her neighborhood so that I could arrive at her door at exactly the time stated. My heart as ever was pounding, my head intoxicated with the thought that in moments I would be in the presence of my dear Mistress. I gathered my requested items and the Yellow Rose and entered her front door at exactly the time required. My instructions were to enter, place my items and the rose ready for Mistress, undress, put on a blindfold and take up the required position ready for Mistress's entrance. By now I was in the nearest state to nirvana I know, and happy that I had carried out everything requested of me.

The exact details of the next few moments are lost in what followed, but I am sure that Mistress probably warmed her hand up on my bottom before examining what I had brought. Suddenly Mistress exclaimed and told me to look at her. She was standing holding my Yellow Rose, which she had started unwrapping. To my horror the outer petals of the rose had turned brown in just the short time since I left the shop. At once I knew I was in trouble. I am never one to do something wrong in order to get punished and I knew that this would indeed create a severe punishment. Mistress did nothing right away except throw the rose down in anger. I have to admit I love my Mistress so much when she is angry with me because nothing makes me happier than totally admitting that I am at fault for her and receiving her anger. Even when it was not me that caused her anger, I want to be there so that she can work her anger out on me. When she is angry she looks even more beautiful than ever and it is always easy to accept right away that I am wrong. In this case I did of course apologize, but continued to wait to hear my fate. All I hoped for was that it would not be dismissal, that is the worst possible punishment and anything else beside that is willingly received.

Later I was still kneeling on the floor, naked and blindfolded, when suddenly I felt the most sharp stinging sensation between my cheeks. Mistress was beating me on the bottom with the not Perfect Yellow Rose. She continued to beat my bottom, aiming especially between the two cheeks until the rose was no more. The pain of the thorns tearing into my backside was excruciating and yet I was in heaven. Never was a punishment so enjoyed, I had unwittingly failed my Mistress, she had punished me appropriately. I was in heaven. I then had to pick up every tiny scrap of the rose, and never again have I failed to produce for my Mistress a Perfect Yellow Rose. As I left that day I was abjectly sorry, extremely sore and in the most heavenly mental state I have ever reached with my Mistress to date.