Slave gets a Good Hard Cropping

My bottom still tingles from Mistress’s hard and well deserved cropping yesterday evening. What put me in Mistress’s bad graces?

The day started on a good note for this Slave. I rose early, worked on my morning homework, then awaited Mistress’s call back to bed. As I climbed into bed, the room was still dark, awaiting the sunrise over the mountains behind our little retreat. We pressed close, and found that our quickening mutual desires would break our morning routine – rather than Mistress reading my work product while I suckled between her legs, she simply went for my quickly hardening cock. After we were done, she graded my work, and approved the alluring photo that was later posted. I hope our reader(s) enjoyed the sight of her lovely ass, encased in lacy black panties Slave got Mistress for Christmas.

After a day of skiing with too many Texans on crowded slopes, we collected the teens and the boyfriend and headed back to our humble shelter, where the “grown-ups” retreated to their bedroom for our late afternoon “rest” period.

First, we reviewing and responding to some lively emails from some of our newly found friends. Our Male Slave friend from the North had asked for details about what Mistress had speculated about the night before on the subject of he and his Mistress joining us here in the future, sans teens. Our response: “That’s subject to the Mistress/slave privilege. But use your imagination.”

His imagination (and our imaginations about him and his Mistress) quickly led to some robust activity between Mistress and Slave. Mistress directed me to insert that little white probe into my ass, no doubt because she likes what it does to my cock and to her Slave’s state of mind. After practicing the use of her mouth to reduce slave to a begging fool, she allowed me to fuck her. So I did ,while extending the tale of our friends’ fantasy visit in ways that seemed to make her very, very orgasmic. So, an assist goes to M and B.

When we finished, I fell into a deep sleep, and at some point Mistress wandered off to the shower. I woke after the sun had set. We still had some time before our dinner engagement, so Mistress read and answered emails for a bit, as Slave rested beside her. She called my attention to a photo on her laptop screen sent by a friend, that included Mistress posing with a married lesbian couple – colleagues from back in River City.

Here’s where Slave got into trouble. I noted how strikingly beautiful the woman in the photo next to Mistress was. And she is. But my mistake was not to also mention how beautiful and attractive Mistress was in that same photo. And she definitely was. (wish we could show you the photo, but national security concerns prevent it).

Naturally, this angered Mistress. She understands that all men are stupid, and that a wandering eye is different than a wandering cock. But she has every right to expect her Slave to worship her exclusively in every way, whether her body or her image. To the extent I had suggested that she was somehow less beautiful than the woman posing next to her, I had failed in my duties to her. My attempts at digging out of the hole I had dug for myself were futile.

I went to the shower then, as Mistress stewed. When I dried off, she considered my punishment: should she require me to wear that anal probe out to dinner? I suggested that could get a little yucky. She considered the possibilities and agreed. Then she told me to fetch the riding crop. I handed it to her with some anticipation / trepidation. I know that a good cropping has a wonderful impact on my attitude when it’s over. But it hurts like hell when in progress.

She ordered me to lay face down on the bed, hands over my head. The radio was turned on and up, to muffle any sounds that might confuse the teens in the other room. Then she removed her underwear, pressed them to my face and told me to open wide. Stuffing her lacy, mauve undies into my open mouth, she explained that she did not want me to disturb the children with my whines of complaint.

As she began to thwack my ass with the crop she cross-examined me:

“Slave, do you find other women attractive?”. When I answered with a muffled no, shaking my head for emphasis, She called me a liar, and gave me a few more thwacks in earnest. I relented, and attempted to express, through the panties in my mouth, that, yes, sometimes other women do catch my eye.

“Slave, do you want to fuck any other women”. I answered “No”, and again she called me a liar, thwacking away, demanding that I tell the truth. But I did not change my story on that one, insisting that I do not want to fuck other women. And it’s true. That seems to be out of Slave’s system. I am quite content as a one Mistress man. (Though Mistress does have a lend/lease right in our contract. ) After a few more blows with the black leather crop, Mistress seemed to accept this explanation.

When her questioning was done, Mistress added a few more strokes for good measure, then put down the crop. My punishment seemed to make her feel better. She lay down beside me, gently rubbing my stinging bottom, assuring me of her love. And as my pulse began to slow, my cock began to respond in the way it often does after Mistress’s punishments. I guess I am just another one of Pavlov’s dogs. Mistress remarked about its thickening, and handled it a bit, but she was satisfied from our earlier efforts and felt no need to indulge me further. Though I was a bit frustrated, I was more than happy to be back in Mistress’s good graces.

She did photograph my bottom, and directed me to post it with today’s entry. “A little humiliation is good for you, Slave.” So there you have it, after a bit of additional cropping. My right cheek. A bit red and puffy. Believe me, you don’t want to see the whole thing, crack and all.

Soon we were dressed and out the door with the teens, for a festive evening of friends, drinks and dancing. But throughout, the tingling of my bottom reminded me that I needed to be a good Slave, or face the consequences.