“Since it’s switch day, tell the Slave about our discussion of magenta”.
I showed it to Mistress.
“Wht’s he talking about, Mistress?”
At first, she seemed confused. Then She showed me a photo M had sent via text yesterday. A golf ball with a bright pink circle drawn around the label, presumably to avoid ball confusion on the fairway.
They do stuff like this. Cute, aren’t they?
“We had a discussion about what color the marking was. I said it was pink. He said it was purple. We settled on magenta.”
“So what are you supposed to share about that, Mistress?”
It was already switch day, so I was feeling a little bossy.
”I can’t remember, Slave.”
But then it hit me.
I bet that’s the color he said he would make your bottom when he spanked you, wasn’t it Mistress?
“Come to think of it….I suppose that was it, Slave. In the fantasy, as we were getting each other off, he was spanking me.”
Well that was a proper inspiration.
Soon Mistress found herself well trussed to the bed. Her wrists cuffed and hooked to the bed head in our dainty apartment. Some rope I had tucked o our bag bound her ankles, spread nicely, to the bottom metal frame of the bed.
And since I had forgotten to pack a crop….well my wide leather belt would have to do.
But first a little warm up. She had left the Hitachi plugged in next to the bed.
Convenient.
It slid between her thighs, under her upraised ass so nicely. Thumbed on it triggered a little squeal of alarm from her.
“What are you doing Slave….it’s on hi!”
“Isn’t that the way you like it Mistress?”
“No….I use low. ,,,, it’s too much….”
“Awww….”
I worked her with it a bit, making her squirm, and struggle. I was going for sensory overload.
But then, just as suddenly, I turned it off, I was working on magenta, wasn’t I?
The belt made nice little slapping sounds against her bottom. She wiggled. Whined. Made little “Oooh” sounds with each blow. I even landed a few between her well spread legs.
“Some women on the blogs say they can actually come this way, Mistress….just by slaps against their swollen clits….”
“They’re crazy, Slave….”
But she was writhing for me nicely. And he bottom had taken on a nice rosy glow.
In the right light, it could pass for magenta.
It was time to move onto her next course.
I reached again for the handy dandy Hitachi. I slid it back between those rosy cheeks, underneath her, so that she had nice, full purchase against those full, damp and throbbing lips .
When she came, and it did not take long, her body rose up and wound herself tightly around the power tool, as she yanked against the bonds that secured her wrists and ankles.
“Oh, God, Slave…..amazing…..”
But I had no intent of stopping based on her expression of temporary satisfaction. Instead, I cranked it up, switching back to ‘Hi’, and she bucked and pulled away…..
Shit.
She pulled so hard she yanked the hitachi’s cord right out of the socket.
“What the….why’d you turn it off, Slave. “
“Don’t look at me, you were going so crazy you pulled the sucker out of the wall, Mistress…. Let’s hope the plug is still attached.”
Mistress panicked a bit. She could not forfeit her tool while on the road. The Horror!
“Is it OK, Slave?”
I plugged it back in.
“Yes, Mistress. Just try to contain yourself.”
That sudden power loss cooled things off for a moment….but just a moment.
I used her interruption to flip her over, untying then re-securing her ankles.
Then I picked up the Hitachi again, sliding into bed next to her. I lay siege to her mouth with my own, while finding her still deperate clit with the Hitachi.
Mistress wiggled, moaned, her hips pressing up and around, looking for just the right contact.
But I was spinning a bit with it too. And Mistress was growing frustrated.
“Up a little…..yes, now closer to you, ok….. a little closer….. move it up a little more…..”
Slave does not follow these types of directions well, in part because my cock was full and needy by now too. And in part because it’s fun to see Mistress get frustrated.
But suddenly, I must have found my mark, Mistress arched her back, squeezed those well exercised tightly against the churning business end of the Hitachi, twisted her hips …. And yanked the plug out of the wall one more time.
“Oh, shit….damn it.”
The sudden power loss seemed to bother Mistress more than the blows that re-created the color scheme on M’s golf ball.
But have no fear, Mistress finally got that Hitachi-induced orgasm. And a few more to spare as I fucked her afterwards as she remained tied to the bed for another hour or so.
And when she told M about her problems with the plug, he responded that “you’re just Hitachi amateurs. You should always be prepared with an extension cord.”
Then we were off on a long bike ride, to a little village about 10 miles away, where we enjoyed a hearty breakfast, worthy of all that exercise.
While we waited for our eggs and bacon, I texted M a smiling photo of his cute Slave, now all smiles. “She’s been well spanked”, I added.
“Good”, was his reply.
After our ride, we walked down to the Lake Michigan beach, already filling up with an amusing collection of touristas and second homers, mostly from Chicago-land. Where else can you find old women with huge thighs mumbling in Polish into their cell phones as they take in the late summer sun?
We had good books, some snacks and plenty of water to last the afternoon.
Mistress’s cell phone was back at the house, saving it’s charge.
But I had mine. I even snapped some photos of Mistress to share with M, much to her annoyance. “Cleavage Cam” and “butt cam” were the labels I used. And M, who was on the golf course by now, in another rematch with his “Icelandic Nemesis”, sent appreciative replies.
But at around 2 pm, Mistress asked me to send him a message.
“Tell him I left my phone behind, but that I will be back and available at 5 his time if he wants to have another date, Slave.”
I dutifully sent her message, adding “It’s amusing that Mistress is already worried about how she’s getting her next orgasm.”
Mistress laughed when I read her my message. And at M’s succinct reply:
“Greedy”.
“Remember when we used to go to Europe in the summers. And you’d make fun because I would plan our days around where we could find great lunches or dinners?”
“Yes, Slave….”
“You’d say I would be finishing one meal and already planning the next?”
She was getting my point, giggling, swatting me with her hand.
“Now you’re the same with orgasms, Mistress….you really do need the two of us to keep you satisfied.”
“I guess that’s true, Slave.”
M’s right. Mistress is a greedy girl.
