Saturday
A sun lit room greets me as my eyes open reluctantly. I feel your warmth against me. I'm on my side facing you; you're on your tummy covered in your long, dark tresses. I hear your soft, rhythmic breathing as you sleep. Remembering the fabulous lovemaking that was the (I blush as I type) the cherry on a most delicious Friday I smile. I am filled to bursting with lust, wanting to love you again. But I resist and "settle" for taking in the delicious scent that is the remnant of last evening. As I reach out to run my fingers through wandering tendrils of your hair, I got a start as you said, "If you lay a hand on me pet I will assess two misdemeanours. You've already accumulated eight. These would bring you to chastisement."
I can't help myself; I laugh so hard I nearly pee.
"What?"
I peel the covers off you, you screech, I rise, lean over and kiss your back, then, still laughing, flee to the safety of the bathroom, locking the door.
I give my bladder relief; finished, I flush. Moving to the sink, I rinse my mouth with water, use the wash cloth on my face to freshen up a bit, and wipe the remnants of last night from between my legs. I spy toothpaste, spread some on my finger, and give it the old what for across my teeth. As I rise to see my reflection in the mirror, I think of a night some time ago when you said to me that I would forever, when looking in the mirror, see myself and flush. I do – again. But there is also an unmistakable glint in my eye and a look that says, "She is well and truly fucked." Oh my YES!
I unlock and open the door, peeking out.
"Morgan, hurry on over here, my turn for the ladies."
I saunter to the bed as you rise and pad softly to the bathroom, taking my place. I hear the toilet flush, water run, and a soft hum and murmur. Is she singing to herself? Hmm. Well, it was our first night together. This is our first morning, so everything will be new.
I go to the coffee maker, load it, turn it on, and head back to bed.
You open the door and walk back to the bed. I drink you in with my eyes. "My god Ally!"
"What, Morgan?"
"Just my god, you're so slender, so absolutely lovely. Please, just for me, stand there a moment while I devour you with my eyes."
"Oh posh, certainly you had your fill of me last night," as you stride toward the bed. You stop and look over your shoulder. Turning back, you ask, "You've started coffee?"
"Mmm hmm."
You shuffle over to it, take the carafe, and pour two cups. "How do you take yours?"
"Black please."
You add sugar and cream and walk back to my side of the bed, (oh my god, you are so sexy) hand me my cup, lean in for a kiss, leaving me smiling, and go round to your side, set your cup down, and climb in beside me, reaching for your cup.
"Morgan, we do need to discuss your chastisement."
I nearly spit out my coffee as I choke back a laugh. Christ in a bottle. We'd spoken of this in email and chat. I'd always dismissed it as part of our delicious, intricate "role-play." Hells bells I can't even remember the alleged "misdemeanours." Now it becomes clear that it's more than that to you. I turn and look at you. Your countenance gives no hint of humor.
"Can we puhleez finish our coffee first?"
"Your recalcitrance isn't earning you any points, pet."
Maximus eyerollious. I studiously, deliberately ignore you, sipping on my coffee.
"Do you wish to have a say in your chastisement or shall I simply make the choice on my own?"
"Are we having breakfast; room service? Or are we going out? I'm famished."
"I haven't decided yet Morgan – either on breakfast or your chastisement. Besides, if we go out I need to take a shower."
"True that. I think that's settled then. Where's the room service menu hidden?" I put the coffee on the night stand, get up and wander to the sitting table. Fumbling through drawers I find it and walk back to the bed.
"Morgan?" I look up to see raw desire fill your eyes. I stop very suddenly in my tracks.
"Yes?" softly.
"How did I get so bloody lucky to find such a glorious specimen of womanhood as you? God save me, I'm completely over the moon about you and your beauty." You beam a smile that could melt glaciers. I feel myself flush, deeply and completely. My urge is to bring the menu up to cover myself in my completely awkward self-awareness but I resist.
"I have no words, Alison. Thank you."
You crook a finger. I come to your side of the bed. You point. I sit, flushed, aware of my nudity and your lustful gaze.
"I've decided on the form of your chastisement, pet. Please come round to your side of the bed and move to the middle. I'll be right back."
I walk to my side, taking another sip, two, of my coffee. I take a glimpse of you moving to the closet. You open it, reach in, grab something, close the door, and return to the bed. I detect the slightest of smirks as I slide to the middle of the bed on my back.
"My pet, do I have your trust?" said in a soft, yet stern tone.
"Ally, I honestly don't understand the question. Yes! Of course you do."
You nod assent. There is a small black bag. You reach into it and produce silk scarves. Reaching for my wrist, you tie a knot and then loop the other side to the bed post. You climb astride me and repeat the procedure on my other wrist. A penetrating look into my eyes with those blue pools, you kiss my nose, then, "Safe word?"
"Ally! Not necessary!" with feeling.
The pools soften; you lean in and kiss me warmly, your tongue darting. "Thank you Morgan." You reach into the bag. I see the blindfold. My eyes widen; my heart pounds wildly. I feel the wetness pool in my center. You have reached deep into my fantasy of submission. My breathing shortens. You smile as you pull the blindfold over the back of my head. Darkness descends.
There is a markedly different tone to your voice as you speak. "Pet, I have decided that your chastisement will be a test of your willingness to submit. Allowing me to bind your wrists is a wonderful first step. To deprive you of sight will, I trust, provide you with an abundance of wonder and pleasure. I shall see to it." With that, you press your lips to mine, there being no doubt in this kiss that it is you who is in charge. I moan into your kiss, mouth open, accepting your tongue, letting you take command. I feel your hands on my cheeks as the kiss (impossibly) deepens. Your body covers mine. The little "chit of a girl" lies upon me, commandeering my mouth. Quick as a whisper you are gone.