Paying Our Obligation

We had another snowy, blustery day here at our local ski mountain. The fresh powder was fun, but the wind and cold had us beating a somewhat earlier retreat from the mountain down to our little cabin, where the sun was shining. The early departure gave us a chance to nap, do a little work, and for Slave to go into town and pick up some provisions.

On the way home, I even had the chance to check in with our Senior Correspondent via phone, and learn that it was Bill's ( our Director of Security) birthday.  Happy Birthday, Bill!

On the drive home, I even stopped to take some photos of our beautiful mountains, with new snow sparkling, and lit by the setting sun. It's those vistas that keep us coming back here.

When I returned home with our supplies I was in for a little treat: Mistress was all decked out in fetching and skimpy blue confection, with matching thong, I had presented to her a few Christmas's ago.

"I figured we had time for a little fun before dinner, Slave...."

In fact, I had the same thing in mind, though I had not expected Mistress to be all decked out for the occasion.

We put away the groceries, and adjourned to our cozy bedroom here, with a view of the mountain, the alpenglow that followed the setting sun just lighting the very top.

"Wouldn't this be a good time to pay your part of the obligation arising from Tim Tebow's fall from grace on Saturday night, Mistress?"

You may recall the bet with our friendly competitors at All Mine. The Pats margin of victory (was it 45-10) far exceeded the 13.5 point spread that Suzanne had suckered the WC into accepting. And we honor our debts here, even when on the Lam.

And there was Molly, all decked out on Patriots Blue!

I affixed the cuffs to her wrists and secured them to our bed.

"Do we really need these, Slave? "

"From personal experience, I know it's easier to take these while you can't squirm away, Mistress."

"How considerate of you...."

I found our resident riding crop and flexed it a bit in my hand.

"So the question is 'how many?' .... I'm thinking the Pats margin of victory, less the point spread...."

I did some mental calculations.....

"That leaves us with 22, Mistress."

"I don't recall anything in that bet that put a number on it Slave!"

Mistress was already squirming in anticipation though.... truth be told, I think she likes this sort of punishment much better than her Slave does.  I mentioned this....

"Maybe it's because I have more padding, Slave...."

Could be. Or maybe she's just a little pain slut, like a few of you out there in the blogworld that we regularly follow.

In any event, she took her medicine well, and I made sure to break up the dosage with occasional forays with probing fingers and hands along those reddening ass cheeks, and between those squirming thighs. 

I noticed during one of these little breaks that the musky perfume of her arousal was permeating the room.

"You reek of sex, Mistress.... I think you like this...."

"Maybe I do, Slave....."

When the appropriate number of strokes had been applied, I took a photo to provide evidence of part of our stakes paid, that I emailed off to Jay and Suzanne.

But now it was time to reward Mistress for her "good sportsmanship".  Fortunately, "Mr. H." (her Hitachi) was already plugged in at bed side.  I kept her tied to the bed, as I pressed the vibrating orb home between those crimson ass cheeks. 

It's always fin to watch Mistress flex and tense all those muscles in her ass and thighs as she works her way to one of those special cums that only Mr. H can deliver. And she took her time, building it to the point where there could be no return. She even asked for permission!  What a good switch-day Slave.

After she'd come down, she told me it was time to fuck her. And I was more than happy to release her wrists  and follow her directions for a long and leisurely time.