"Mouse, come here and bring your laptop," Master called from his study.
There was a marked hesitation from mouse, who was at that moment sending a text message to Lucy, "Oh dear" mouse wrote to her friend, "He wants to see the laptop...Gulp." Master is quite meticulous about his things, as mouse is well aware of. Last year, he gave mouse his older laptop that he used for work, after upgrading to newer one. He cleaned and gave it to mouse with it looking like brand new, with the expectation that it would stay that way.
Naturally when the screen becomes dirty mouse will clean it and has a couple times since he's given it to her. It's just not something that she does very often, so this surprise inspection had mouse quaking. The screen was a mess. He opened it up, looked at the screen, shut it down. He got a soft towel and small dish of water, and instructed mouse again on how to properly clean it. He remarked several times that it's not a touch screen, why would there be fingerprints?
To that mouse had no answer. It wasn't so filthy that it took forever to clean, but still it was embarrassing that she was careless with something Master had entrusted to her care. At the heart that is what he did.
"Strip, position number one"
With her head lowered, mouse undressed slowly, stepping out of her skirt, unbuttoning her blouse, until all she was left was the corset, which he unfastened and removed. Raising her arms and clasped behind her neck, she adjusted her stance the way Master expects. Legs apart, somewhat even with the shoulders. It's a vulnerable position to be in, without anything to hide yourself.
His fingers grabbed the nipple rings and guided her to the computer and asked if this is how she cares for gifts?
He again closed the laptop. He added weight to the nipple rings, then had mouse bend forward, the weights jostled and tugged in that rip the flesh feeling mouse hates, he then pushed her feet further apart. Soon she felt the riding crop against her backside, and then against the area between her legs, which really caught her attention. Tears fell, her nose ran, and it was all she could to do not to scream.
Then he stopped, handed her a handkerchief, and used the remaining water in the dish, to wash her face.
"Now slave, bring me your purse."
"You might as well just beat mouse now and get it over with -- it'll save us some steps."
He smirked, and gave mouse 10 minutes to tidy it up, which turned out to be just enough time.