HNT / Stripes

After Mistress had her birthday spanks her bottom had a lovely, rosy glow. And the sun filtered through the blinds added a few stripes, enhancing the look .

She lay their quietly, hips slowly writhing against the carpet, her warm skin still tingling from the tracks my palm had left behind.

But soon, after I had revved up our power tool, she was consumed with a different sort of stimulus.


On the drive home, her devoted Slave could tell Mistress was in a bit of a funk.

The claws had been out at her female dominated work place.

No, not FemDom. Just a concentration of female “peers” who find themselves in management roles, and who seem compelled to point fingers at one another when the going gets tough.

Call me sexist, but my observation is that women “colleagues” can be particularly cruel and catty to one another.

And Mistress, with all of her many qualities, has trouble letting that sort of cattiness roll off her well toned shoulders.

The other babes at work had clearly gotten her testy. Annoyed. Out of sorts.

I knew it was Slave’s duty to help salve Mistress’s wounds.

Worship helped.

Mistress stretched across our bed, naked, arms above her head, fingers intertwined. Legs spread. My tongue and lips spreading moist lips, teasing out her little bud, then, when she was getting close, a finger probing and poking for the right little button to push to get her over the top.

I could feel a bit of the tension starting to fade….but we still had work to do.

Then ….

A Bike ride in our hot, humid, pungent River valley air.

40 minutes of lap swimming for her in our community pool.

Dinner of grilled chicken, reheated mushroom risotto. Stir fryed green beans coated with some garlic and fresh lemon juice.

A glass or two of some oaky California Chardonnay.

A hot shower to wash away the salty residue of perspiration and chlorine.

The latest episode of Hung, watched as I laved her tasty (and now clean) toes with my tongue, and massaged her feet with my right hand, while my left hand teased at her twin tight orifices.

(Complicated to imagine: Her head is at the foot of the bed; mine is at the head, where I have a lovely view of her firm and ripe bottom.)

By the time the episode was over, Mistress was purring like the kitten she can be, the thoughts of the sharp elbowed bitches at work finally in the proper perspective.

“Why don’t you go put in your device Slave. I want that cock very hard.”

“Of course, Mistress.”