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I know the sounds of my street and I’m awake before you on Saturday morning. You’ve explained very clearly that you like some ‘you’ time first thing in the morning. So I oblige by fondling and kissing you awake. Your eyes open suddenly and when you realise where you are, who I am (humph!) and what I’m doing, you relax and enjoy the process. I’m usually not allowed to suck on nipples, but you don’t seem averse; and well you know what an accommodating girl I can be when I’ve a very sore bottom and it is still sore from the night before. Coffee and a bacon sandwich in bed quickly follow and then we face the prospect of a whole day together. True to form I come over all shy and when you catch me ducking my head I hear you sigh, half in exasperation, half in affection.
You pull me very close and whisper, “Enough nonsense, cherie, you’ve just brought me off, I think the time for reticence is long gone, don’t you?” Very reluctantly, I nod my agreement.
“Up you get, bend over and show me your marks from yesterday.” This simple command has me wet in an instant. I tumble out of bed and stand at your side, bending over, I place my hands on my knees. Your face is very near my backside and I feel you reach out and run your palm over my arse. I am very tender from the slipper and the colour must still be florid.
“Hmm….I think I’m losing my touch, pop back in beside me, cherie.” I do as you ask and that more or less takes care of the morning. I am as indulgent of you as it is possible to be and I think you enjoyed yourself as much as I did. I’m not usually allowed to lie in bed and this is a rare treat for me. I don’t like to intrude on your personal circumstances but I get the impression it is much the same for you.
I’m reluctant to leave the house in the afternoon, but it is a glorious day and you instruct that the fresh air will do us good. You also decide that you’re going to plug me before we depart for our walk. This time my body doesn’t fight you, after all you’ve introduced the plug into our remote discipline and I’m quite used to it by now. But having you insert it is something special and I stick my arse out for you and groan loudly as it inveigles its way inside me.
“Good girl.” You say, giving me a brisk pat on the bottom as you pull my knickers up. I’ve never worn it outside and the sensation is………….interesting.
You’re aware of my discomfort and it amuses you. You adopt a very proprietorial domly attitude, clamping me to your side. Of course I soon realise this is to allow you to sweep your hand over my bottom and press down as and when you want.
We travel into the heart of Glasgow, I’m unlikely to run into anyone I know in the Saturday afternoon throng. You seem to know where you’re going which surprises me as I know you’ve never been here before. But of course I forget your expertise on Google earth. We soon arrive at a shop I didn’t even know existed, indeed, I’ve never been in a sex shop before. You give a cursory glance around and head straight for the plug section.
“I think it’s time you graduated to a grown up version, don’t you?” You ask, picking a much larger one than I’m currently wearing, off the shelf. I whiten, it is at least twice as big and as I begin to contemplate the effect it will have, I bite my lip. But you’re already heading towards the implements.
“When in Scotland,” you say, picking up a hefty two tailed tawse. “Turn round cherie.”
I can’t believe I comply, but so attuned to your voice am I, that disobedience doesn’t even occur to me. You lay the tawse against my backside and I hear your sigh of approval.
I am scarlet with embarrassment as we approach the check out. I’ve no idea if anyone saw you trying the tawse against me and I don’t dare look at the guy behind the register.
Once outside, you laugh openly at me. “Honestly, cherie, how is a girl so naive and so experienced at the same time?” I give a timorous shrug of the shoulders. I don’t know.
“I think we need to get you home and try both of our new friends, don’t you?” I give my head the slightest nod possible, I want this but I know you’re going to be strict with me and I’m afraid – in a good way!
You look at me appraisingly, as if you know exactly what I’m thinking. I quail a wee bit before your experienced stare.
“Yes, young lady, home and straight away.”
When we arrive back at the house, me panting slightly in trepidation, you push me down over the arm of the sofa. Pushing up my coat and skirt and yanking down my knickers, you unceremoniously remove the ‘junior’ plug and I gasp as it slips from my body, stretching me.
