"Is there something you'd care to tell me?" Lita demanded irately.

Pamela flinched under the steely glare of her Mistress. She had come home from work to find Lita waiting in the bedroom, looking mean in tight black leather mini dress and knee high, spike heeled boots, right fist clenched around a riding whip. Her short bleached blonde hair was slicked back and a spike studded dog collar fastened around her throat. Even before she had spoken, her slave knew she was in trouble. What Pamela did not know was what she was supposed to have done.

"Well?" Lita barked, striking the whip against her right boot.

"Wh... what?" the older, smaller woman stammered.

"Don't play innocent with me, bitch!" the tall, slender dominatrix snarled, taking several menacing steps towards her. "I want to know what fucking game you think you're playing."

"I'm not playing any games," Pamela feebly protested, backing closer to the door. "Van ..., Mistress, what's the problem?"

"Your fucking ex-girlfriend is the problem," Lita spat. "Oh yes, you know what I'm talking about now. You probably just forgot to mention you were seeing her again. Is that it?"

"I'm not seeing her again," Pamela pleaded.

"Then I must be the one seeing things," her lover sneered. "Because I could have sworn I saw you with her this afternoon, when I just happened to be passing a certain restaurant. You two seemed to be getting on really well."

"Okay, I had lunch with Susan," the terrified, brown haired woman admitted, continuing her backward shuffle towards the bedroom door. "I was going to tell you. If you'll just give me a chance, I can explain."

"I'm listening," said Lita, cracking the riding whip against the side of her right boot.

"She asked me to meet her at the restaurant," said Pamela. "There were some papers to sign, regarding the sale of my share of the business. We had lunch, I signed the papers and said goodbye. That's all there was to it, I swear. Oh God, Lita, surely you don't think ...!"

"When did you and Susan arrange this lunch appointment?" the dominatrix interrupted.

"She called me at work, yesterday afternoon," Pamela answered.

"You never mentioned it."

"It slipped my mind. Darling, I know you're upset and I'm really sorry. But ..."

"Don't you dare fucking call me darling!" Lita yelled. "What else has conveniently slipped your mind lately, huh? Let's have a little confession time, shall we?"

"There's nothing to confess," Pamela wailed, brown eyes misting behind her large, gold rimmed spectacles. "All I did was forget to mention that Susan invited me to lunch. It was so late when you got home last night and ..."

"So it's my fault?" Lita shrieked.

"That's not what I meant," the other woman pleaded.

"I don't give a shit what you meant," Lita snapped. "In fact, I don't want to hear another word from your fucking mouth."