At The Bottom Of The Bag

Mary was not in the best of moods as she tidied round the bedroom. Tom had come in from a business trip late last night and had left again early this morning. She knew that he was up for promotion and it was a busy time for him but business always seemed to come first. They hardly seemed to have any time for each other nowadays and as for their sex life, it was practically non-existent. She sighed deeply as she found Tom’s overnight bag next to the bed. He’d just dropped it there when he came home the previous evening. Naturally he hadn’t put his dirty clothes in the basket, he seemed to think the washing fairy did that, he’d just grabbed his toilet bag out of it when he’d got ready for work this morning.

 

As she emptied the clothes out of the bag she noticed a file of papers at the bottom. I hope he didn’t need this today she thought to herself. She’d leave it on the kitchen table where he’d see it when he came home. But, just as she took the file out of the bag, her cat ran between her legs and she tripped, falling against the bed. The file flew open, scattering paperwork everywhere. She picked herself up and started to sort out the papers to put them back in the file and that’s when she found it, the magazine he’d hidden there.

 

Mary was shocked to the core. She was pretty certain that Tom wasn’t unfaithful but this was almost as bad. The magazine was called ‘Bondage Slaves’ and featured, on the front cover, a woman dressed in some sort of skin-tight leather costume with a man kneeling at her feet. It was well thumbed and the pages dog-eared; this was obviously more than an idle purchase. Horrified, but curious, she flicked through it. The front cover was mild compared to the contents; page after page of photographs and stories all on the same theme, women in various stages of undress abusing men grovelling before them. Surely this wasn’t what Tom was into? He’d never been the most dominant of lovers and he’d always liked it when she was on top, but hadn’t given her any clue about this sort of thing. Could this be the reason why their sex life had become so infrequent?

 

She took the magazine downstairs to throw it in the bin but, as she got to the kitchen the doorbell rang. She was so flustered she just threw the magazine on the table and went to the door. When she answered it Pauline, her next-door neighbour and long time friend, was there. The two of them had met when Pauline and Garry had moved in six years ago and struck up an instant friendship. Pauline always seemed so sure of herself, so in control, and Mary had often found her a true friend when problems arose.

 

“Hello, Mary, time for a quick cuppa?” Without waiting for an answer she breezed past and headed straight for the kitchen. Mary chased her down the hall trying to stop her but it was too late, Pauline had spotted the magazine and picked it up “Wow, I never knew you two were into this sort of stuff!”

 

“I’m not! It’s Tom’s. I found it in his bag. It’s disgusting. Throw it away.” Mary started to cry. “I never knew he was into things like this, it’s awful. What should I do?”

 

“Come on, it’s not that bad.” Pauline gave her a big hug. “Lots of men are like that. Why don’t you talk to him about it?”

 

“I can’t. It’s horrid.”

 

“Look, Mary, you love Tom, don’t you?”

 

“Not at the moment, I don’t.”

 

“Oh yes you do, you’re just a little shocked. Sit down and I’ll put the kettle on.”

 

“But what will I do?” Mary slumped down in a kitchen chair. “I feel like I don’t want him to ever touch me again.”

 

“I know, it’s all a bit much at the moment, isn’t it? But you’ve got to deal with it; if you don’t it will just fester between you. You two are far too much in love to let something like this break you up. Anyway, it’s not all bad news.”

 

“What do you mean?” Mary was dumbfounded by how calmly Pauline was taking all this. She didn’t seem to mind the magazine at all.

“Well Garry likes a bit of S&M from time to time, nothing as extreme as this, mind you, and I’ve got quite into it. It has its benefits; you get the housework done and all the oral sex you could want!”

 

“What! You and Garry?” Now Mary’s surprise was complete, it seemed like one revelation after another this morning.

 

“Oh, yes. I make him do the housework, he’s getting quite good at ironing, and afterwards I play with him for a bit. It always ends in the most fantastic sex.” Pauline gave Mary a long hard look. “When was the last time you had an orgasm?”

 

“I… I don’t know.” Mary’s head was spinning. How could Pauline be so composed about this. And Garry…Garry of all people! She just couldn’t picture it.

 

“Well I do. You were telling me the other day it’s been ages. It’s about time you were looked after properly and if Tom’s been a naughty boy,” Pauline nodded at the magazine, “I think it’s about time he paid for it.”

 

Mary was confused, her emotions in turmoil. She’d been expecting her friend to be as shocked as she was but now she was encouraging her to join in! She thought about how dull her sex life with Tom had become, how unsatisfied it left her, and if Tom really was into all this then perhaps she ought to put her distaste to one side and give it a try, to save their marriage if nothing else. But how? It all looked so complicated, she wouldn’t know where to begin.

 

“But what do I do? I don’t know anything about this.”

 

“Read the magazine, that will give you plenty of ideas, and when he comes home tonight you tell him what’s what.”

 

“I couldn’t read that thing!” Mary was distraught; she really didn’t know what to do. Pauline was right though, she couldn’t just let it drop. She thought about confronting Tom, how awkward it would be. If only she had Pauline’s poise, Pauline’s confidence… Maybe… No, it was a daft idea, but Pauline seemed to know all about it. Maybe if Pauline showed her the ropes, just to get her started. Pauline was always so sure of herself and Mary knew that if she tried on her own she’d make a muck of it, make things worse.

 

“Pauline…” she began. “Pauline. Would you help?”

 

“How do you mean?”

 

“I don’t think I can cope on my own. Would you be there, show me how to get started?”

 

“Are you sure?” Pauline was all concern. “I mean this should be about you and Tom.”

 

“Yes, yes I am. Just for the beginning bit, you know the housework and so on. I wouldn’t know how to ask him to do it.” Now that she had spoken Mary wanted, no needed, Pauline’s help.

 

“Well, if you’re really sure, I mean really, really sure, I’ll help. Oh, and you don’t ask him to do the housework, you order him to do it.”

 

“Thank you.” Pauline could hear the relief in Mary’s voice.

 

“No problem, what time does Tom get in?”

 

“He should be back about seven thirty tonight. He’s got a meeting in town.”

 

“That suits me. Garry’s got a darts match so he’ll be out early. I’ll come round at six and we’ll get ready. Now, you’re really sure about this?”

 

“Yes.” Mary’s disgust was turning to anger. If Tom liked being punished he’d see what an angry wife could do! “Yes, I’m completely sure.”

 

------------------------------------

 

By six o-clock Mary’s nerves were in tatters. What had she let herself in for? Pauline had seemed so relaxed about it all but, now it was almost upon her, Mary was not sure she could go through with it. She was just about to phone Pauline and call the whole thing off when the doorbell rang. When she went to the front door to answer it Pauline stood there dressed to kill. She wore a short skirt, a skimpy top which showed most of her cleavage, high heels and stockings. She was carrying two bottles of chilled white wine and a holdall.

 

“You look fantastic!” Mary gasped.

 

“Thank you. We need to get you dressed up as well, we can’t have you looking all frumpy, but first of all how about a little Dutch courage.” She went through to the kitchen, opened the bottle and filled two glasses. “Here’s to getting on top!”

 

As ever, Mary was swept along by her friend. She accepted a glass of wine and took a sip. The wine was cool and refreshing and before she knew it she found she’d drained her glass. Pauline topped it up.

 

“Come along, let’s see what’s in your wardrobe. What about that little black number you wore at Christmas?” They went upstairs to the bedroom, taking with them their glasses and the open bottle of wine. Pauline went straight to the wardrobe and, finding the dress, took it out and laid it on the bed. “Now, what about underwear. Show me what you’ve got.”

 

Mary opened her undies draw and started to rummage through. It seemed like everything she had was Marks and Sparks plain white cotton, functional but hardly sexy, but, there at the back, were a black lacy bra and panties set that Tom had bought her years ago. She’d never seemed to find the right time to wear them and when she’d tried them on she’d felt a bit tarty, but when Pauline saw the set she grabbed it from her.

 

“Perfect! I knew you’d have something! Come on, let’s get you dressed, out of those clothes. Have you got any decent shoes?” While Pauline searched the wardrobe Mary got undressed.

 

“Ah, these will do. There’s something about heels that just turns them on.” Pauline stood up holding a pair of shoes. Mary, by now completely naked, jumped back and covered herself with her hands. “Oh, don’t be shy. We’re both girls together and you’ve got a great body, you ought to show it off more.”

 

Mary glanced in the mirror. She wasn’t sure she had a ‘great body’ at all. She’d kept herself trim but… Pauline came up behind her.

 

“You look fantastic, really, you do. Just say to yourself ‘I am a powerful confident woman, I’m in charge’. Come on, say it.”

 

“I am a powerful confident woman, I’m in charge.” Mary repeated nervously. Pauline took her arms and gently guided them down to her sides.

 

“Hmm, you’re a little bushy down there, we’ll have to give you a trim. There’s not enough time for a shave, and anyway, it’s far too itchy. Where’re your scissors?” Mary had never considered trimming her pubic hair before but Pauline, in this mood, was unstoppable and, anyway, the wine was beginning to get to her. Pauline laid her back on the bed and set to work, it only took a few minutes and as she lay there Mary once again wondered about what she was letting herself in for. Here she was, stark naked on the bed while Pauline clipped away at her most intimate parts but Pauline was being so matter of fact that it almost seemed natural.

 

“There, that’s better.” Pauline brushed away the last of the loose hairs. “Now, stand up and take a look.”

 

Mary stood once again in front of the mirror. She had to admit that it did look better; her sex was exposed, open, and somehow very erotic. She wondered why she’d never thought to do it for herself and determined to keep it that way.

 

Pauline helped her on with a garter belt, stockings, the black lacy panties and the matching bra. As Mary turned for the dress Pauline stopped her.

 

“Not yet. First I want you to put on the shoes and look at yourself in the mirror.” Mary did as she was told. “Isn’t that more like it?. What do you say now?”

 

“I am a powerful confident woman, I’m in charge.” Mary remembered the words Pauline had given her and here, in front of the mirror she saw the sexy woman she’d once been. She stood a little straighter, held herself a little tighter, not bad, not bad for thirty two she grudgingly admitted to herself.

 

Still Pauline wouldn’t let her put on the dress but insisted that she do her make-up first. As Pauline helped Mary felt that she was being pampered, groomed. She found that putting on the make up was like putting on a mask. I am a powerful confident woman, I’m in charge she repeated to herself and, looking in the dressing table mirror, she could almost believe it.

 

Finally made up, she squeezed into the dress. It was shorter, and tighter, than she remembered; it barely covered her stocking tops and the cleavage… Once again she turned to the mirror, this time a woman she hadn’t seen in a long, long while looked back. It had been ages since she’d dressed like this or felt like this.

 

“I am a powerful confident woman, I’m in charge.” This time she said it out loud.

 

“Good for you. Now come on, it’s almost seven thirty and Tom will be here in a minute.” They went downstairs, fetched the second bottle of wine from the kitchen, and went into the lounge. Pauline also brought the magazine and laid it on the coffee table. “When he arrives let me do the talking, just to get started, Ok?”

 

“Ok.” Mary took another sip of wine. I am a powerful confident woman, I’m in charge she repeated like a mantra. The sound of Tom’s key in the lock made her heart lurch. Here we go!

 

“Hi, Mary, it’s me.” He called from the hallway.

 

“Quick, stand up!” Pauline hissed.

 

Tom came into the lounge and his jaw dropped. His wife and the next-door neighbour stood there looking as sexy as possible. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Mary looking that good.

 

“What’s going on? Are you two having a party or something?”

 

“Never mind that, what’s this?” Pauline pointed at the magazine.

 

Oh no! Tom saw what Pauline was pointing at. How did she find that!

 

“I’m sorry love, it’s not what it looks like.” He said to Mary who just stood there with a determined look on her face.

“It’s exactly what it looks like.” Pauline snapped. “Now we know what you do on those business trips of yours. Having little wanks over dirty magazines. I think you should say sorry properly, on your knees.”

 

For a moment or two Tom just stood there, looking from Mary to Pauline, from Pauline to Mary. The silence stretched out, his mind raced, he didn’t know how to respond. Mary, always meek and mild, had never done anything like this before but she had a look on her face like thunder. He really was in trouble. If he made a scene… well, he really was in the wrong, and wasn't this just what he'd always dreamed of? He sank to his knees before his wife.

 

“I’m sorry, Mary, I’m truly sorry.” He muttered.

 

“It’s Mistress Mary from now on, understood?” Pauline commanded.

 

“Yes, yes Mistress Pauline.”

 

“Now kiss her feet.” Tom bent forward to obey.

 

“You’ve been a naughty little boy and naughty little boys get their bottoms smacked.” Pauline continued.  “Do you deserve to have your bottom smacked?”

 

“Yes, Mistress Pauline.” Mary’s silence was getting to Tom. She just stood there. He’d like the chance to find out exactly how she felt about all this, exactly where it was heading, but he knew that all he could do now was play along. Besides, this was wildly exciting, his fantasies come true. He’d always fancied Pauline, not that he’d ever do anything about it, and here she was, acting the dominatrix as he knelt before his wife. His penis was fast becoming erect, entangled in his underpants.

 

“That’s enough.” Pauline reached for Tom’s shoulder and pulled him upright. Then she came round and stood beside Mary. She pointed with her foot at the bulge in Tom’s trousers. “Oh look, he’s getting all excited. Shall we see just how excited he is? Take down you trousers, worm.”

 

“But… But…” Tom protested feebly. Stripping off in front of Pauline was going a bit far.

 

“Do as she says.” For the first time Mary spoke, her voice stern and controlled. Somehow those four quiet words held more power, more authority than any of Pauline’s orders. Tom realised there would be no help from that quarter and undid his trousers, pushing them to his knees.

 

“And your underpants. Come on, don’t keep me waiting!”

 

“Yes, Mistress Pauline.” Tom pushed down his underpants and his penis, unencumbered at last, jutted out firmly before him. Tom bowed his head, not sure if he was more embarrassed or turned on. There was no way he could look either woman in the eye.

 

“Oooh, quite a little stiffy. Look how excited he’s got.” Pauline mocked. “There’s a holdall in the kitchen. Go and fetch it.”

 

As Tom stood up he started to pull his underpants and trousers back up.

 

“What do you think you’re doing?” Pauline asked. “Did I say you could pull your trousers up?”

 

“No, Mistress Pauline, I’m sorry, Mistress Pauline.”

 

“You will be sorry. Now go and get that bag.” Tom shuffled off, hampered by the trousers around his knees, fetched the bag and, bringing it back to the lounge, placed it in front of Pauline. “While we decide exactly how we’re going to punish you you’re going to wait on us, hand and foot, but first of all we need to get you properly dressed. Strip!”

 

Tom obeyed, placing his clothes on a chair. Head bowed he stood before the two women, stark naked, his erect penis sticking out before him. Pauline reached down and, wrapping her fingers round it, firmly tugged it back and forth.

 

“Look at him, poor little thing! Men are ruled by their pricks, control that and you control everything.” She reached further down and, cupping his balls in her hand, gave a quick squeeze. Tom couldn’t suppress a little yelp. She let go and, as she stood back, she slapped the top of his penis with the tips of her fingers.

 

“First we had better get this under control.” She reached into the bag and retrieved a black leather jock strap. “Legs apart.” She ordered. Tom did as he was told and Pauline fitted the jock strap on him, fastening it with a padlock at the back. The jock strap was very tight against him, so tight that his penis and testicles were crushed, but if anything this increased the strength of his erection, He longed to touch himself but already he knew that to do so would only cause more trouble.

 

“That’s better, nicely tied up. Now, Mary, have you got an apron, something nice and girly?”

 

“I think so. I’ll go and look.” As Mary went into the kitchen she wondered about how she was feeling. Having Tom at her feet had been, well, good. Maybe it was the wine, maybe it was the clothes, maybe it was the remnants of her anger, but she was feeling stronger. Where she had once been horrified she was now intrigued. She’d still let Pauline take the lead, she wasn’t that confident yet, but more and more she wanted to see where this was heading. Hung up on a hook in the broom cupboard was an apron her mother-in-law had given her. She hated it, it was all frilly, far too much the fifties housewife for her taste. It would be just so ironic to make Tom wear it. He could be the little housewife for once. She was sick and tired of traipsing round tending to his every need, now the shoe was on the other foot. She returned to the lounge and handed it to Tom who put it on.

 

“How sweet! Now who’s a good little maid? Mary, how about a light supper?” Mary nodded. “Slave, supper for two, now!”

 

Tom went off to the kitchen. He wasn’t a cook, beans on toast was about as far as he went, but he found some cold cuts and salad in the fridge and managed to put something together. Pauline and Mary sat and chatted in the lounge. Their talk was a little forced and Mary was quite relieved when Tom told them that supper was served.

 

As the two women ate Tom stood by, waiting patiently. He was quite hungry himself, but he knew that it was down to Pauline, or maybe Mary, whether he would eat tonight. When they had finished Pauline got up from the table.

 

“You have ten minutes to get this kitchen spotless, then report to us in the lounge. Understood?”

 

“Yes, Mistress Pauline.”

 

“Good, come along, Mary.” Leaving Tom to clear up they headed for the lounge. Tom wasn’t much better at housework than he was at cooking and, as the ten minutes ticked away, he knew he wasn’t doing as well as he should. A dilemma was fast approaching, finish the job or be on time? He glanced at the clock, time was up, he’d have to leave the rest! He hurried through to the lounge.

 

When he arrived Pauline and Mary didn’t seem to notice, they were too involved with each other. Pauline had persuaded Mary that it would be a good way to tease Tom if he were to find them kissing.

 

“There’s something about a lesbian kiss that really turns a man on and with Tom’s weenie all tied up it will drive him crazy.” She’d explained. “Stupid really, it’s the one sexual activity they can’t get involved with.” Mary was a little nervous, she’d never kissed a woman before, well, not properly, but she was fast shedding inhibitions and willing to follow Pauline’s lead. Anyway, it was just acting.

 

For several minutes Pauline and Mary continued to smooch on the sofa. Tom just stood and stared, totally amazed. This was Mary, meek, unassuming Mary, and here she was in the sexiest outfit she’d ever worn locked in a passionate embrace with their sexy neighbour. He’d never seen anything so erotic. He felt as if his penis would explode, crushed beneath the tight jock strap. He had to touch it, maybe if he rubbed it through the leather. Surreptitiously he slipped his hand beneath the apron. Yes, rubbing himself this way was far from perfect but better than nothing.

 

Pauline broke from the kiss and looked up at Tom. Too late he whipped his hand out from under the apron.

 

“What are you staring at? And what were you doing beneath your apron?”

 

“I’m sorry, Mistress Pauline.”

 

“Oh, you will be, you will be so sorry. Now bring the holdall over to me.” Tom did as he was told and put on the sofa next to Pauline. “Now then, it’s time to have your bottie smacked. Don’t you agree?”

 

“Yes, Mistress Pauline.”

 

“Turn around, hands behind your back.” Tom turned and found his wrists being cuffed together behind him. “Now let’s go and check on how you left the kitchen.” Pauline took a paddle out of the bag and stood up. Smacking him on the buttocks she herded Tom into the kitchen. Mary got to her feet and followed a trifle unsteadily, the wine, and, she had to admit, the kiss with Pauline, had really got to her.

 

“What’s all this?” Pauline pointed to some pots left on the draining board. “I thought I told you to leave the place spotless. Do you call this spotless?”

 

“No, Mistress Pauline.”

 

“And this, and this, and this.” Pauline pointed here and there, a spill not mopped up, a tea towel left out, a cup not put away, a smear on the glass tabletop. “This isn’t any good at all.”

 

“No, Mistress Pauline.”

 

“No, Mistress Pauline. No, Mistress Pauline.” Pauline mocked. “You’re pathetic. You can’t get a simple job right. I don’t know why we bother with you. You’re not even worth punishing.”

 

“I’m sorry, Mistress Pauline. Tom hung his head.

 

“You’re a miserable specimen, you’re ordered to do a simple task and you fail. Come on Mary, leave him, he’s not worth the trouble.” Pauline turned towards the door.

 

“Please, Mistress Pauline…”

 

“Please what?” Pauline turned back.

 

“Please, Mistress Pauline, I’ll try harder, I’ll be good, really, I will, please punish me. Please, please?”

 

“I’m not the one you should be asking.” Pauline’s voice was suddenly vicious. “Mistress Mary, your wife, the one you’ve been neglecting for so long, that’s who you should be asking!”

 

Tom’s heart sank as he realised the truth in what Pauline had said. Suddenly this wasn’t a game any more. He really had been neglecting Mary, what with work and everything, so busy every day, there never seemed to be time, time for her. Clumsily he fell on his knees before her and bowed his head.

 

“My dearest darling, Mistress Mary. I’m so sorry and I would be honoured if you would punish me.” Mary glanced across at Pauline and their eyes met. Both had heard the genuine contrition in Tom’s voice. Pauline handed Mary the paddle and whispered ‘Across your knee, like a child.’

 

Mary grabbed Tom by the ear and dragged him back to the lounge. She sat down in the centre of the sofa and ordered him to lie across her lap. Hampered by having his wrists cuffed behind his back it took some time but he eventually wriggled in to position.

 

“Tom, do you know what a safe word is?” Pauline interposed before Mary could start.

 

“Yes, Mistress Pauline.”

 

“Yours is ‘cabbage’. Mary, unless he says ‘cabbage’ please feel free to totally ignore this pathetic little worm’s pleadings. Smack him ‘til he’s really sorry, and then some more for luck.”

 

At first Mary was very tentative. After all, she did love Tom and didn’t want to really hurt him. However, within a few strokes a fire woke inside her, and once it started, nothing was going to stop it. A thousand hurts and put downs poured out. Thwack! Take that for the year you forgot my birthday, did you really think that garage flowers were going to do the trick? Thwack! Take that for your bloody mother and her endless wittering about grandchildren, what does she think I am, a breeding machine? Thwack! Take that for the way you spent that party flirting with Rosemary leaving me to talk to boring Sam all night, Thwack! take that for all the times you never noticed my new hair do, am I that invisible to you? Thwack! Take that for those endless lonely evenings when you were away on business and now I find you were wanking yourself silly to that stupid, Thwack! stupid, Thwack! stupid Thwack! magazine, Thwack! Take that for all the nights I’ve lain beside you listening to you snoring while I’m left high and dry because if you’ve come then that’s all right then Thwack! And more than anything take that Thwack! for making me love you Thwack! And that, Thwack! and that, Thwack! and that, Thwack! and that, Thwack! and that.

 

“Mary! Mary! Enough! I think he’s had all he can take.” Pauline’s hand on her shoulder pulled Mary back down to earth. The red mists cleared from her eyes and she realised that Tom was sobbing quite hard and kicking his legs. His bottom and upper thighs were covered in bright red wheals, testament to the fury unleashed within Mary. Sheepishly she looked at Pauline.

 

“Did he say… Did he say ‘cabbage’?” Mary was panting gently from the exertion.

 

“No, you’re all right, he never said the stop word. Mind you. that’s quite a leathering you gave him.”

 

“What happens now?”

 

“Now he says thank you. We’ll need to give him a few minutes to recover. Push him off. Then we’ll get that dress off you.” Mary gave Tom a push and he slumped to the floor. There were a couple of squeaks as his buttocks landed. Then, helped by Pauline, she stood up and squirmed out of her dress. As she shuffled around her foot landed next to Tom’s head. He craned his neck and started to kiss the toes of her shoes feverishly.

 

“Looks like he’s had long enough to recover. Worm! Back on your knees.” Shakily Tom got back up.

 

“Thank you, Mistress, thank you.”

 

“And how do you say ‘thank you’ properly?” Pauline enquired. Tom leant forward and kissed Mary’s panties, just at the top of her labia. “That’s right. There’s a good boy. Mary, you might find this easier sitting down.”

 

Mary sat back down again and Tom squirmed between her legs. He’d read enough magazines to know what he was supposed to do but his vanilla sex life with Mary had missed this part. Mary, however, knew what she needed; she yanked the gusset of her panties to one side and spread her labia. A few curt words guided him to her clitoris, told him to flick with the end of his tongue rather than suck, and even with all their fumbling inexperience Mary had never felt anything so good, better than her fingers, better even than the washing machine on spin cycle!

 

Pauline slid onto the sofa and cuddled up to her friend. “Mary, I’m off, the next bit’s up to you. I’ll leave the key to the padlock on the mantelpiece.”

 

“Ooooh. Don’t go. I want to say ‘thank you’”.

 

“I’ve got to, any more and I’m cheating on Garry. Who knows, maybe we’ll play foursomes some time. I’ll call you tomorrow and find out how you got on.”

 

“Tomorrow. Aaahh! We’ll talk tomorrow. Goodnight, Pauline, thank you.” Pauline slipped out of the room and left.

 

Tom may have been a fumbling amateur but he was learning fast. His tongue was flicking from side to side against the tip of Mary's clitoris. Mary reached down and grasped the sides of his head, pulling him into her. 

 

“Oh, Tom, Oh, Tom, Oh that’s sooo good.” Tom responded flicking harder as she  pulled harder, easing back as she eased back. Mary’ fingers dug into the side of Tom’s head as a wave broke within her, washing to and fro but Tom kept his steady rhythm and the wave did not subside, but grew, higher, higher. Again it washed through her and still Tom didn’t stop, still the steady rhythm drove through her until she felt she could take no more and with the sparkle of a thousand fireworks tingling through every part of her body she climaxed again and again and again.

 

For a few long, long minutes they were silent except for their exhausted panting. Mary looked down at Tom and Tom looked back and in that moment they knew it would be all right. The shared passion, the strength of their emotion had brought them together to a place they had never been before and it had made them stronger.

 

“Well, that’s me sorted. I suppose we ought to do something about you.” In the warmth of her post-orgasm glow Mary found it hard to be cruel.

 

“Yes, please, Mistress.” Mary got up and fetched the padlock key from the mantelpiece. She came round behind Tom and unfastened the wrist cuffs and the jock strap, and tossed them back in the holdall. The apron was thrown on a chair, they'd tidy up in the morning. She came back to Tom, his penis, freed from the jock strap, rose proud and stiff before him. Mary reached down and grasped it.

 

“I want you spread-eagled on the bed right now!” Tom rushed off with Mary chasing, her shoes, panties and bra being discarded along the way. By the time she got to the bedroom Tom was waiting for her. She leapt onto the bed and knelt over Tom.  She was still lubricated enough and Tom was stiff enough so she reached down, spread her labia and slid him inside, all the way inside. She lent forward, resting her hands on Tom’s shoulders, pinning him down, and started to sway her hips back and forth in a slow, steady rocking motion.

 

Each backward push forced Tom down onto the bed and, soft as it was, it still made the fresh bruises on his buttocks smart. Despite this, because of this, Tom was quickly reaching his climax. He started to respond, push back, but Mary told him sharply to lie still.

 

“I don't think I can last much longer, I can't, I can't... Oh, Mary, my angel, my love, Ohhhhh.” Deep inside her Mary felt Tom explode, shooting his load again and again until he was completely drained, completely satisfied. Tom flopped, as drained of energy as he was of spunk.

 

After a while Mary could feel the stiffness collapsing inside her. She lent forward and lay on top of him as his penis, now completely flaccid, slid gently out of her. For a minute or two they just lay there, husband and wife, not slave and mistress. Tom gently kissed Mary.

 

“Hun?”

 

“Yes, Tom?”

 

“Thanks, I mean really, thank you. That was fantastic.”

 

“Well, you weren't so bad yourself. Would you like to play again soon?”

 

“Ooh, yes please!”

 

“I'll have to think up lots of little jobs for you. Ways in which you can be my slave.” Mary could hardly believe what she was saying. Only this morning she had been horrified by the very thought and here she was, planning for more. But Pauline had been right, She'd get him to do the housework and the sex was unbelievable. She thought about what Pauline had said about foursomes with her and Garry. Maybe that was a little too much, or maybe...

 

“Hun.” Tom broke into her reverie. “Next time... Not quite so hard when you spank me, please.”

 

“Oh I think that's up to me. Don't you?”          

 

To be continued