...it was at that very moment when I knew and she knew...

In scene.
Thrusting into her.
Her legs wrapped around mine.
Chanting her mantra, over and over.
"Don't stop chanting," I huskily whispered into her ear.
She continued.
Finally, I had enough of her voice. I stuck my thumb onto her lips.
She knew what to do, and sucked it into her moist mouth greedily.
Still thrusting into her.
I pulled my thumb out.
"Take it, slave!" I growled.
Then it happened.
"Take it, (her name)!"
She whispered, "What?"
I said it louder, repeating her proper name.
She heard that.
Her eyes snapped open. There was a look on her face.
The look said, "Who the fuck is...ooohhh yeahhhhhh."
Scene broken.
I opened my mouth and called her the thing she least expected at that very moment. That moment when she was slave...
...it was at that very moment when I knew and she knew...
that the evening was over. The mood was shot. I apologized. Reminded that I was still a rookie at this. We had a good laugh afterwards, our hot bodies intertwined. I guess I learned that lesson!
End scene.

“I was bad Master,” she said.

“Oh?”

“I had an ice cream.” She confessed.

“Without asking for permission?” I growled.

“Yes, Master.”

“You know what this means…”

“What does it mean, Master?’ she asked.

“Punishment.”

Resigned to her fate, she nodded. “Yes, Master.”

When we got home, I slipped into my leather pants and shirt, ordered her into the living room, naked from undressing out of her work clothes. “Grab a pillow and place it on the floor in front of me.” I said.

She did.

“Kneel between my legs, slave.”

She did. Her nakedness a stark contrast to my cold leather clothes. Where ever the material touched her skin, goosebumps rose. I had her repeat what she had told me. How she was bad.

“Are you ready for your punishment?” I asked. She nodded.

“What was that?” I prompted.

“Yes Master.” She quickly replied.

I motioned for her to lay over my lap, her ass raised before me, awaiting my strokes.

“How many strokes do you deserve as punishment?” I asked her. If she chose the number, she would only have herself to blame.

She gave the number. It was low, but a good starting point.

Fidgeting over my lap, my dick already hard, she tried to anticipate my strokes. When they finally came crashing down on her ass, she yelped. It was a little harder than she was used to. That’s why it’s called a punishment, slave!

All was now forgiven. I ordered her into our bedroom and proceeded to take my pleasure from her. She wound up quite enjoying that part of the evening!

Knottygirl has a new blog. It’s just getting started, but a few of you have offered some advise to her from time to time, so if you check it out, it’s knotty-girl.blogspot.com