Sprite's Interlude

1.

Things quieted down over the next few days. Mistress Emily had made it clear that she was going to stay.

"Why would I go anywhere?" She scoffed, "I get to live in a nice house with an obedient maid that I can tease and torture." She gave me a wink. "And I get paid!"

She picked up her phone and started scrolling. "Maybe it's time to get on the app and start dating again." She looked at me, "If I do get a boyfriend, he's off limits to you, sissy! I don't want to see you shaking your little ass, trying to get into his pants. I don't share."

"Yes, Mistress Emily." I curtsied. I doubted Mistress would allow that anyway. "Is everything OK between you and Mistress?" I asked. There seemed to be a tense but slowly relaxing energy with them.

"Oh, I know who is in charge." She said, her eyes got a far away look from the memory of their altercation. "She manhan- wait, Mistresshandled me like nobody's business. I had plenty of time to come to terms with that while tied to the bed. Trust me, I will not be crossing her again. Plus, she controls that check!"

Mistress Emily had taken to dressing a bit more smartly the last few days. Not as sexy as Mistress Anna, but it was nice to see her in a skirt once in a while. Today she was wearing a black shirt, tan skirt and black 3-inch pumps. Her athletic legs were bare.

She smirked at me playfully, "What are you, again?" She asked.

"I am your sissy bitch, Mistress Emily." I responded with a curtsy.

She uncrossed her legs and placed her feet together. Looking down and then back at me, she asked, "Is that the proper way to answer that question, Maid?"

I dropped to my knees and kissed both of the toes of her pumps. "I am your sissy bitch, Mistress Emily." I answered again, looking up at her.

"Are you planning to leave my toes dirty like that?" She asked with a raised eyebrow. I looked back down to see red smudges on each toe from my lipstick.

"Oh! I'm sorry Mistress! I tried to wipe them off with my fingers, but only succeeded in smearing them. "Oh no!" I jumped up and retrieved a wet paper towel. I dropped back down and properly wiped them clean.

Mistress Emily had been working her phone. She pointed the screen at my face. There was a picture of monogrammed lace handkerchiefs. "I think I'll order these for you. That way you are prepared." She looked down at her clean shoes. "Next time, you will lick them clean. Do you understand, Maid?"

I stood and curtsied in response. She was pressing all of my buttons and my chastity was letting me know it! "Yes Mistress, thank you Mistress!"

Her teasing had become more playful and had lost that biting edge that I had become used to. Well, mostly. Those feelings didn't just disappear, but she was getting better at dealing with them. I was actually starting to find our interactions more fun than scary.

When she called me "sissy", it didn't feel like an insult anymore.

Mistress sauntered into the den and plopped down, laying on the sofa. She was wearing pink leggings, sneakers, and a white "Rush" t-shirt. She looked totally relaxed and sent one of her dynamite smiles my way.

Mistress Anna followed behind her. Her hips had developed a pronounced sway in the last few days, it was very sexy. She entered and sat primly in the remaining wingback chair. She looked wonderful in a red blouse, short black pencil skirt with black tights, and black 5-inch stilettos.

They had all come back from lunch, having allowed me to finish my chores without interruption.

"Ugh! I am not used to wearing heels!" Mistress Emily exclaimed. "Maid, Brenda tells me you give great foot massages." She lifted both feet, holding them out in my direction. "How about showing off your skills?"

"I think that's a wonderful idea, Pet!" Mistress chimed in, "Go get us some wine and you can work on all of us!"

Well, I knew where I was going to be all afternoon. "Yes Mistress." I went to the kitchen and set up a tray with two bottles of wine, three wine glasses, and a cheese plate. Returning to my Mistresses, I poured the wine and served it to them.

I retrieved my massage oils and knelt in front of Mistress Emily. I removed her right pump and placed her foot in the lap of my black maid's uniform. After applying lotion to my hands, I started massaging her arch.

She let out a groan of pleasure at my ministrations, "Oh God, That is wonderful!" A feeling of pride rose up in me as I worked her foot.

"I told you!" Mistress said. "There are benefits to having an obedient, attentive, and happy sissy maid." I could see her smile from the corner of my eye.

Mistress Emily looked down at her foot. "Looks like I need to refresh my polish." I noted the pink chipped color of her toenails.

"Guess what? She does that too!" Mistress chimed in. "Pumpkin, go get your kit. I think we could all use some new polish." She said as she removed her sneakers and socks. "How about you, Anna?"

My little sister looked down at her heels and said, "I just did my polish the other day. But a massage sounds like heaven!"

Lightly placing Mistress Emily's foot on the floor, I rose and curtsied. Then I went to the maid's quarters to find my pedicure kit. It was a makeup box with several polish colors along with toe separators and other tools.

Mistress was hanging up her phone just as I returned. "I have invited a few more people over. Let's make this a party!"

I knelt back down in front of Mistress Emily and resumed my massage of her foot. She let it be known that she enjoyed my work. I spent about ten minutes on each foot before using acetone to clean the polish from her toenails.

She chose a fresh pink color. I used the foam separators between her toes and gave them all a nice polish. Leaving her with a fresh glass of wine, I moved over to Mistress. She was wiggling her toes in anticipation.

I started on Mistress's right foot, drawing a sigh of pleasure from her when the doorbell rang. She pulled her foot back, a playful smile on her lips. "I think you need to get that, Precious."

"Yes, Mistress," I said, rising gracefully to my heels. I curtsied and quickly smoothed my maid's uniform, ensuring I was presentable for the arriving guest. My pulse quickened as I hurried to the door, curious about whom Mistress had invited.

Opening the door, I was greeted by Ms. Lawrence's radiant smile. She exuded an effortless blend of professionalism, beauty, and charm in a maroon paisley-printed blouse paired with a red leather skirt that fell just to mid-thigh. Her black tights and 3-inch pumps added a polished touch, while a yellow scarf with black floral prints tied neatly around her neck completed the ensemble. Her blonde, wavy hair framed her face beautifully, cascading over her shoulders.

"Hi, Sprite!" she beamed, her voice warm and inviting. "I heard there's a foot massage and pedicure party happening here!"

I curtsied deeply, stepping aside to welcome her in. "Yes, Miss. Please come in. Everyone is in the den. I'll get you a glass of wine."

She followed me into the house, her heels clicking softly against the floor. As Mistress greeted her with cheerful introductions, I slipped away to the kitchen. Adding five more glasses and three bottles of wine to a tray, I prepared for what could only be a lively gathering. Mistress's invitation list was always unpredictable, but I intended to be ready for anything.

I returned to the den and set the tray on the table, quickly pouring Ms. Lawrence a glass of wine. She had followed Mistress Anna's lead, removing her shoes and tights, settling comfortably into the relaxed vibe of the gathering.

"So you girls are Sprite's sisters," Ms. Lawrence said warmly, her eyes sparkling as she looked between them. "I never got to meet you when Bill and I were dating. You're both so pretty! It's easy to see the resemblance."

I handed her the wine with a curtsy as Mistress Anna scoffed lightly, a teasing grin on her lips. "Thanks, I guess. I just wonder how Bill was able to land the supermodels."

Both Mistress and Ms. Lawrence blushed at the playful remark, exchanging amused smiles.

After ensuring everyone had what they needed, I returned to Mistress's feet, kneeling gracefully to resume the massage. The room fell into a comfortable rhythm, with the others watching as I worked. My hands kneaded her soles and toes, drawing soft sounds of delight from her lips. Their encouraging comments about my technique filled the air, with Mistress Emily chiming in to vouch for my talent.

When it came time for the polish, Mistress selected a bold, bright red. I carefully applied it, ensuring her beautiful feet were perfectly complemented by the glossy, striking color.

The doorbell rang again, and I rose swiftly to answer it. Opening the door, I was surprised to see Dr. Isla Morgan, my plastic surgeon, standing there. She looked a bit tired, her willowy frame wrapped in blue scrubs and sneakers. Despite her casual appearance, her loose bun and natural beauty made her the perfect advertisement for her practice.

"Sprite!" she exclaimed with a warm smile. "I've always wanted to see you in your element. Let me look at you."

I stepped aside to let her in. She approached me with a professional curiosity, inspecting the work she had done. Her fingers brushed over my lips, and she tested my breasts with a practiced, clinical touch, nodding in approval. I stuck my chest out with pride at her lifting and massaging of my breasts, my chastity responding appropriately, of course.

I curtsied gratefully and responded, "Welcome, Doctor. Mistress and I are very happy with the results of your surgeries. If you will follow me, I will bring you to the others."

I led her to the den and ensured she had a full glass of wine as she joined Mistress and Ms. Lawrence on the couch. Their laughter filled the room, blending seamlessly with the soft murmur of conversation and the delicate clinking of glasses.

I noticed the three remaining glasses on the tray and wondered if they'd be enough. Surely Mistress had more guests in mind. My musings were cut short by the fresh ring of the doorbell.

Mrs. Margaret Jones, the owner of the salon Mistress and I frequented, stood at the threshold. She wore a sleek t-shirt bearing her salon's logo, paired with soft black pants and comfortable black flats. Her dark curls framed a face glowing with warmth. In her hand, she held the handle of a large, wheeled luggage case that trailed behind her.

"Sprite, you look just darling in your little maid's dress!" she exclaimed, her smile comforting and familiar.

I curtsied deeply as Mrs. Jones breezed past me, heading straight for the den. "Babeline calling!" she declared, using her makeup brand's slogan, her voice ringing out over the chatter.

The room erupted into happy cheers as I moved to close the door--only to be tackled by a tiny blur of dark hair and energy.

"Holy shit! Those are some fucking soft pillows, you bitch!"

The small, fiery waxing specialist from Mrs. Jones's salon, wrapped her arms tightly around me, unabashedly nuzzling her head into my cleavage.

I smiled despite myself, returning the embrace. "Hello, Ms. Tan!"

Her infectious laughter filled the entryway as the petite Asian woman stepped back, brushing a lock of sleek black hair from her face. She wore ripped black skinny jeans and a cropped leather jacket over a graphic tee that read, "Wax On, Fuck Off " in glittery print.

"Damn, Sprite, you look so fucking hot!" she exclaimed, giving my maid's uniform an approving once-over. "I was told you're THE BITCH when it comes to foot massage! Shit! Let's go find out!"

I barely had a chance to close the door before she grabbed my leash and dragged me toward the den.

"Son of a bitch! It's a hottie convention!" Ms. Tan shouted upon entering, drawing roars of laughter from the room.

She held firmly onto my leash while I poured and served Mrs. Jones her wine. Mrs. Jones was already unpacking her makeup wares from the wheeled case, her movements quick and efficient.

"I'll take a beer," Ms. Tan declared, still gripping my leash with an impish grin.

"I'll need to go to the kitchen to fetch one for you, Miss," I explained, my hands folded in front of me.

Her smirk widened. "Point me in the right direction, slut. We'll go together." Without waiting for a reply, she tugged my leash, pulling me along behind her like a determined puppy.

As we reached the kitchen, she leaned against the counter, watching intently as I retrieved a frosted glass and poured the beer.

"Why do you have this awesome fucking dog leash, you slut?" she asked, her curiosity barely masking her amusement. She twirled the handle in her fingers as she spoke. "I love it!"

"It is a symbol of my service, Miss," I explained with a soft blush, carefully presenting her the glass. "I have to follow wherever it leads in the house," I added, finishing with a curtsy.

She glanced at the proffered glass, her eyes sparkling with mischievous delight. "That's hot as fuck, you kinky little bitch!" she grinned. "But you're not seriously going to make me carry that, are you?"

Caught off guard, I quickly pulled the glass back to myself and held it carefully. "Of course not, Miss," I replied, flustered but obedient.

"Good girl," she teased, giving the leash a playful tug. With a smirk, she led me back toward the den, the sound of her boots tapping confidently against the floor.

As I followed dutifully behind her, I couldn't help but marvel at how effortlessly she assumed the dominant role. This tiny, fiery woman wielded authority with a natural talent. I wouldn't be surprised if she had several men wrapped tightly around her finger.

She released my leash as we reached the den, allowing me to fetch a chair from the dining room. When I returned, she promptly settled into it with the regal poise of a pint-sized queen, exuding confidence.

There were introductions all around, with laughter and friendly chatter filling the room.

Ms. Tan told the ladies to call her "Jenny".

"So, you're the genius who gave her those funbags?" Ms. Tan exclaimed, gesturing toward me after being introduced to Dr. Morgan. Her enthusiasm was infectious.

"That's fucking awesome!" she continued, her tone a mix of admiration and blunt honesty. She leaned forward, appraising the doctor with an exaggerated, approving look. "And damn, you are so hot! I bet they're beating down your door for your services!"

The room erupted into laughter, and even Dr. Morgan, who was typically composed, blushed and chuckled. "I do stay busy," she replied with a wry smile, clearly entertained by Ms. Tan's energy.

Mistress took the opportunity to interject, her voice calm but firm. "Sweet Pea, I think the ladies are here for a reason. Don't you agree it's time to focus on your duties?" Her pointed look left no doubt about her expectations.

Feeling the implied reprimand, I mentally kicked myself for lollygagging and potentially making Mistress look bad in front of her guests. I immediately curtsied, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "Yes, Mistress! I am so sorry, Mistress!"

Without further hesitation, I quickly knelt in front of Ms. Lawrence. After applying the massage oil, I began working on the arch and sole of her right foot, focusing intently to demonstrate my devotion. Her foot, much like Mistress's, was beautiful and perfectly suited to her amazing legs. My chastity pulsed with approval, clearly enjoying my position.

Of course, being on my knees, serving all these incredible women, was pushing all the right buttons. I couldn't help the smile that crept across my face as I worked on her foot, basking in the moment.

Ms. Lawrence sighed contentedly, sinking deeper into relaxation. "Wow," she said with a playful glint in her eyes, "I wish I'd had this kind of service when we were dating. We might have never broken up." Her gaze fell on me, and I felt a flicker of warmth at her teasing tone.

"You used to date Sprite?" Dr. Morgan asked, curiosity evident in her tone as she tilted her head toward Ms. Lawrence.

"Oh no, not Sprite!" Ms. Lawrence answered with a small laugh. "Sprite used to be Bill. And before Bill married Brenda, we dated." She shifted slightly, allowing me to switch to her other foot. I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks, and I kept my head down, focusing on my task as the blush spread.

"You know," Ms. Lawrence continued, "I had a lot of trouble accepting Bill as Sprite when I first found out about this whole situation." She glanced down at me with a fond smile. "But after you gave her those new lips and tits, I can't see her as anyone but Sprite now." She reached out and grabbed Dr. Morgan's arm, giving it a playful shake. "Good job, Doctor!"

Dr. Morgan chuckled softly, her demeanor tinged with warmth. "Call me Isla, please," she replied with a small smile.

The ladies chatted and laughed amongst themselves as I worked, their voices blending harmoniously with the occasional clink of glasses. Ms. Lawrence selected a rich maroon polish that perfectly matched her elegant blouse, and I happily applied it with careful precision.

Meanwhile, Mrs. Jones began showcasing her makeup products, skillfully giving each woman a mini makeover. Her expertise drew compliments and giggles as they admired one another's transformed looks.

I alternated between massaging and polishing, the rhythm allowing me to rest my hands in between tasks. It kept my movements fluid and precise, ensuring that each woman received my full attention. The blend of vibrant conversation, laughter, and the luxurious tasks at hand created an atmosphere of pure indulgence. This had definitely become a makeup and pedicure party thoroughly enjoyed by all of the ladies. I was having so much fun making them happy.

Dr. Morgan selected a pink-tinted clear polish with a French tip. It was a bit more intricate and required extra care to complete. I was so absorbed in my work that Mistress had to call my name twice before I realized she was speaking to me.

"Pizza will be here in a couple of minutes, Princess," Mistress said with a smile. "Why don't you go wait for it by the door?"

I dutifully stood by the door, ensuring my maid's uniform was in perfect order, and waited for the bell to ring.

Hearing movement on the other side of the door, I opened it before the driver could even press the bell. Standing there was a young, pretty blonde girl holding an insulated pizza bag. Her mouth dropped open as she took in the sight of me: my short, sexy French maid's dress, high heels, long legs, and prominent cleavage.

Smiling, I struck a subtle pose and curtsied. "Hello, Miss. Is that pizza for us?"

She quickly collected herself and glanced at the ticket. "Uh, Miller residence?" she asked, the surprise still evident in her voice.

I curtsied again, lowering my lashes. "Yes, Miss, that's us." I held out my hands as she fumbled to extract two pizzas from the bag.

"Hey, let's see who's delivering the pizza!" Mistress Emily called out from the den, her voice tinged with the playful looseness of wine.

"Please, come in, Miss," I said, stepping aside for her to enter. The delivery girl hesitated for a moment before stepping inside, the pizzas still in her hands.

"Damn! She's cute!" Mistress Emily exclaimed as she looked over the newcomer. "Hey girl, want a foot massage? We've got a sissy maid who does amazing work!" She lifted one foot, the separators still between her toes for emphasis.

The delivery girl turned back to look at me in surprise, her eyes scanning as if trying to piece together the "sissy" in the maid before her.

Her attention was quickly captured by Mistress, who stood and approached, radiating beauty and power. The delivery girl's gaze locked on Mistress as she took the pizzas from her and passed them to me, her movements decisive yet elegant.

"There's no need to take up all of her time, Emily," Mistress said with a warm, knowing smile. Sliding a few bills into the girl's hand, she glanced at her name tag and added, "Thank you so much, Carey."

Mistress Emily kicked her still-separated toes playfully in the air. "Come on, Carey! A foot massage, pizza, and all this? Who wouldn't want to join?"

Mistress shot her a knowing look, arching an elegant brow. "Emily, behave. We don't want to scare off every delivery girl in the neighborhood."

Carey closed her mouth and swallowed hard. Mumbling a barely audible "Thank you," she glanced down at the bills in her hand. For a moment, it looked like she might curtsy herself before quickly turning to step out the door.

She lingered on the stoop, her head swiveling back for one last look, the shock still plastered across her face. I gently closed the door, smiling politely at her bewildered expression.

The den erupted into laughter the moment the door clicked shut. The ladies' amusement filled the house, their delight echoing as I headed toward the kitchen after setting the pizzas on the coffee table. Without missing a beat, I set about finding paper plates for service, my cheeks still pink from the encounter.

Mistress Anna's pink polish was still fresh and shiny, having only been applied a day or two earlier. I focused entirely on her massage, ensuring each stroke and knead was perfect. She participated in the lively conversation but kept a careful eye on me the entire time. Whether she was silently judging my technique or studying to learn from it, I couldn't tell. I could only hope I met her expectations on both counts.

Ms. Tan selected a bold blue polish, a striking choice to match her fiery personality. Her dainty feet were so delicate and cute that I worried about being too rough. Her "Really get in there, you bitch slut!" snapped me out of my hesitation, spurring me into action. I redoubled my efforts, determined to meet her satisfaction. Her groans of joy awarded my dedication.

Mrs. Jones wouldn't let me massage her feet until she gave me a makeover. "Darling, your makeup is fine," she said, examining my face critically, "but we can do better. Sit down and let me work my magic." She showcased her contouring skills on me, expertly shaping my cheeks and nose while adding a sexy cat eye that made my reflection in her mirror almost unrecognizable. "There," she said, stepping back with a satisfied smile. "Now you look ready to conquer the world--or at least this room."

I wanted her to teach me how to do what she did. Her talent was mesmerizing, and I couldn't help but feel proud of how I looked.

When it was finally time for her massage, I realized how much effort it would take. Mrs. Jones had wide, sturdy feet, and I used every ounce of my strength to give her the massage she deserved. Her exclamations of joy spurred me on, her delighted laughter filling the room. By the time I finished, I was sweating, but the look of pure satisfaction on her face made it worth every ounce of effort.

Mistress beamed at Mrs. Jones' compliments to me. "You've trained her well," Mrs. Jones said with a wink, sipping her wine. The pride in Mistress's smile sent a warmth through me that erased any fatigue I felt.

She chose a glittery purple polish that sparkled like gemstones and perfectly complemented her vibrant personality. "Add a clear coat to make it pop, Sweetheart" she instructed, handing me the bottle. I happily obliged, carefully sealing her stunning choice with a glossy finish.

Once I had completed my foot massage and nail polish duties, I knelt quietly at their feet, taking a moment to absorb the atmosphere. The room was alive with laughter, warm conversation, and the satisfied smiles of the women I had served. My heart swelled with pride as I looked around at the happy, relaxed faces.

When my gaze met Mistress's, she gave me a subtle wink, her lips curving into a soft, knowing smile. That single gesture was everything. It spoke volumes of her pride in me, her approval, and her love.

Her smile filled my heart to the brim. I loved her so much, and in that moment, I felt the purest joy--a joy that came from knowing I had done well and made her happy.

The night settled into a calmer rhythm for me. My duties were light: refilling drinks, tidying the table, and clearing away the pizza boxes. Mistress, ever generous, even allowed me to have the last slice as I disposed of the trash and paper plates.

The ladies' conversation grew even livelier as the evening wore on. I stood quietly by the wall, ready to serve at a moment's notice, basking in the joy of their laughter and camaraderie. Dr. Morgan, however, seemed increasingly curious about me. Her glances became more frequent until she finally decided to voice her thoughts.

"What are those bracelets she's wearing?" she asked, her gaze flicking to my wrists. "And is that... a leash connected to her collar?"

"I got her those!" Mistress Emily chimed in enthusiastically, or more accurately, slurred. Her cheeks were rosy from the wine, and her tone was playful. She waved her hand dramatically, as if presenting an exhibit. "She can't even take them off!"

She giggled, her words spilling out in a sing-song lilt, "And she looooves them!" It was clear Mistress Emily was a happy drunk, and her energy brought another round of amused laughter from the group.

"Emily calls them Eternity Cuffs and an Eternity Collar," Mistress interjected smoothly. "They have rings on them that allow Sprite's hands to be cuffed together at any time." Her smile deepened as her gaze shifted to me, her crystal blue eyes sparkling, reflecting the lamp lights. "Tell them the rules, Munchkin."

"Yes, Mistress," I replied with a quick curtsy, stepping slightly forward to address the group.

My chastity hummed as I began. "I am not allowed to resist if anyone in our group wishes to cuff my wrists in whatever way they like." I paused, gathering my composure as all eyes fixed on me. "And I must follow wherever the leash leads me. Even if someone hangs the handle on a doorknob, I have to stay there until someone removes it."

There was a moment of quiet intrigue before Mistress Emily broke it with a sly grin, raising her glass. "And the best part? She actually loves it."

Ms. Lawrence stood with a graceful fluidity and beckoned me over with a curled finger, her smile both mischievous and commanding. Obediently, I stepped forward, offering no resistance as her fingers deftly found the carabiners hanging from my apron strings. With an ease that spoke of familiarity, she clipped my hands together in front of me.

Her fingers trailed to the ring on my collar, a soft, deliberate motion that sent a shiver down my spine. She slid the leash to the back of my neck and, as she had done before at her house, lifted my arms high above my head. In one smooth motion, she secured my wrists to the ring of my collar.

My hands were now trapped behind my head, leaving my elbows flapping ineffectually at shoulder height. The position left me feeling exposed, my posture both restrained and elegant in a way that only heightened my awareness of every gaze in the room.

"Ooh! Ooh! Ooh! I love that!" Mistress Emily bounced excitedly in her seat, her wine glass sloshing slightly as she clapped her hands together. "Yay, Sprite! A new position for you!" Her enthusiasm was infectious, even as it added to my blush.

My "naughty little fella," as Mistress liked to call it, squirmed relentlessly in its prison. The mix of helplessness and attention pushed all the right buttons, leaving me both embarrassed and undeniably aroused.

Ms. Lawrence returned to her seat on the couch, her grip firm as she guided me with ease. I followed her lead, pliantly allowing her to pull me down until I was draped across her lap. My head came to rest atop Mistress's soft, welcoming thighs, her scent filling my senses and grounding me in my place.

Mistress stroked my platinum curls as Ms. Lawrence lifted my skirt and pulled my panties down. "Now, isn't this the cutest, most spankable bottom you have ever seen? Ms. Lawrence asked the room as she stroked my exposed butt cheek.

The toes of my heels barely touched the floor, leaving me vulnerable and off-balance. I attempted to shift my hips for leverage, only to be met with a quick, stinging swat on my right cheek.

"Now, now!" Ms. Lawrence admonished with a teasing smile. "You're not going anywhere, Darling."

I could only manage a meek, "Sorry, Miss," as I kicked my heels slightly in response, my movements futile but instinctive.

She proceeded to give me short, light swats on each cheek while massaging me in between. I could feel my arousal increasing as she worked. I let out an involuntary moan and bucked. my hips a bit.

"Holy shit! Is she enjoying that?" Ms. Tan asked excitedly.

"That's new." I heard Mistress whisper to Ms. Lawrence. "What are you doing?"

"It's called sensual spanking." My tormenter whispered in response. "She almost came when she was at my house the last time." She gave me another swat, causing me to buck again. My chastity was really coming to life.

"A new game!" Mistress said as she ran her finger through my curls, "You'll have to tell me about it later."

"That is so fucking hot!" Ms. Tan chirped. "I want to do it!" Her enthusiasm faltered briefly as she glanced toward Mistress. "I mean... is it okay?"

Mistress continued her calm, deliberate stroking of my hair, her voice cool and composed. "It's been a while since she's had a proper spanking," she said to the room, her words carrying a mix of indulgence and authority. "I think anyone who wants to can participate. Right, Pumpkin?"

My cheeks--both sets--burned from a combination of embarrassment and arousal. My chastity felt like it was aflame, every nerve heightened. "Yes, Mistress," I murmured into her lap, my voice muffled but obedient.

"Alright, just to be clear," Mistress said, addressing the room. "Sprite has a safety word: 'Matilda.' If she says that word, everything stops immediately. No questions, no hesitation."

The ladies all nodded their agreement, their faces lit with curiosity and excitement.

"Good," Mistress continued, her tone firm yet playful. "Then no more than four swats per person. Let's keep it fun."

I was fairly certain Mistress Anna would choose to abstain. She hadn't enjoyed participating the last time Mistress had demonstrated proper paddling techniques to them. I remembered the sharp slap she gave her sister when Mistress Emily showed way too much delight in punishing me.

Mistress Emily, however, began to rise from her chair, her enthusiasm almost tangible. Halfway up, she froze, her gaze flickering to Mistress as if recalling the unspoken rule. She was still barred from such actions, nowhere near earning the trust required to wield that kind of authority over me. After a moment of hesitation, she sank back into her seat, her expression carefully unreadable.

Mistress's hand, which had been soothingly stroking my hair, paused briefly. I felt a slight tug, her fingers tightening just enough to suggest her alertness. But as Mistress Emily settled back into place, Mistress relaxed, resuming her gentle strokes as if nothing had happened.

Ms. Tan stepped up eagerly, a mischievous grin lighting up her face. "You have a really sweet ass, Sprite! I want to watch it jiggle," she declared, her tone playful but determined.

She positioned herself with exaggerated readiness, winding her arm back. There was a brief moment of hesitation, almost as if she was gauging the power she wanted to unleash. Then, with a sharp movement, her hand connected with my right cheek in a resounding slap.

"Oh!" I gasped, startled by the unexpected sting. For someone so petite, she packed an impressive wallop. The sharpness of the strike lingered, sending a warm tingle radiating across my skin. The force caused me to kick one of my high-heeled feet involuntarily, the motion drawing a delighted giggle from Ms. Tan as she readied herself for another blow.

Ms. Tan sent a corresponding sting to my left buttock, the sharp impact making my "weeny teeny," as Mistress liked to call it, scream for release. Heat blossomed across my cheeks, a flush creeping up my face as the sharp fire from her strikes melted into a warm, even glow.

She readied herself once more, her movements deliberate and confident. This time, she swung her hand in a sweeping arc, landing a firm slap on my right cheek at the bottom of the motion. Without missing a beat, her hand continued its travel upward, crossing over to her opposite shoulder. From there, she brought it back down in a mirrored arc, the backhand swing connecting squarely with my left cheek.

The precision of her strikes and the steady rhythm sent waves of sensation rippling through me. Ms. Tan placed her hand on my bottom, exploring it with her palm. "Damn Bitch, your ass is on fire!" she exclaimed, her tone a mix of amusement and pride.

Like she needed to tell me!

Mrs. Jones rose and came over to me. She inspected my pink bottom with her hand. She peered at me with her kind eyes. "I think just one on each cheek will do. Is that ok, Sprite?" I was so happy that she asked me. I smiled up at her. "Yes Miss. That is ok."

She nodded and positioned herself, lifting her hand with an experienced air. When it came down solidly on my right cheek, the impact was sharp and authoritative. "Whoa!" I gasped, kicking both feet reflexively. This woman clearly had children--and plenty of practice!

I steeled myself for the next blow. It came down hard, sending shockwaves up my spine. I was so relieved that she chose to only give me two swats! She knew what she was doing. She smiled triumphantly down at me and returned to her seat. She took a sip of her wine with a satisfied grin.

"Okay, Isla, your turn! Slap up on that thing!" Ms. Tan encouraged Dr. Morgan, her enthusiasm as fiery as ever.

Dr. Morgan hesitated, shifting in her seat before standing slowly. "I don't know," she said, her tone uncertain as she approached to inspect me. I felt her long, elegant fingers trace lightly over my heated skin, her touch clinical but lingering just a moment longer than necessary.

The silence in the room grew palpable as she finally stepped back. "I think I'll pass," she said matter-of-factly, returning to her seat with an air of finality.

Ms. Tan cocked her head, her curiosity piqued. "What's the matter? Afraid you won't like it?" she teased, her tone half-challenging, half-playful.

Dr. Morgan turned, giving her a pointed look that held both weight and mystery. Mrs. Jones's makeover had done wonders in accentuating her striking features, her wide eyes and full lips particularly captivating in the moment. "No, Jenny," she replied smoothly, her voice carrying just a hint of edge. "I'm afraid I might like it too much."

The room erupted into a mix of knowing chuckles and amused gasps, the charged atmosphere thick with playful tension.

Ms. Lawrence went to pull my panties up, but Mistress stopped her. She motioned for Mistress Emily to her. Quietly she directed my sister to find a bottle of aloe cream from the vanity in her bedroom. We waited as she stumbled out of the den and returned a minute later, holding out the bottle to Mistress.

Mistress made no motions of taking the cream. Getting the hint, my sister squeezed a generous portion into her hand and moved behind me. The cool touch of the aloe on my burning skin made me shiver slightly, the soothing sensation providing some relief. The feeling of my sister's surprisingly soft hesitant touch gave an emotional soothing to go with the cream. I half expected her to be more forceful in her application of the cream.

As Mistress Emily spread the cream over the inflamed areas, Mistress placed a firm but gentle hand on her arm. "Always give care after the hurt," she instructed softly but with authority. "Do you understand?"

Mistress Emily nodded solemnly, her eyes flicking between Mistress and my now-calming bottom. Without another word, she returned to her chair, holding the bottle close to her stomach.

I felt her hand return to my head, stroking my curls in that comforting way that made my heart swell. It was a moment of quiet understanding--between Mistress, my sister, and me.

Ms. Lawrence then pulled my panties back in place and smoothed down my skirt. She unhooked the carabiners, freeing my hands. Both she and Mistress helped me return my heels to a solid surface.

"What do you say, Sweet Pea?" Mistress prompted, her tone warm but expectant.

Knowing my place, I dipped into a deep curtsy before Ms. Lawrence. "Thank you, Miss."

I turned to each woman in the room, addressing them in turn with the same respect and gratitude.

"Thank you, Mistress Anna."

"Thank you, Doctor Morgan."

"Thank you, Ms. Tan."

"Thank you, Mrs. Jones."

"Thank you, Mistress Emily."

Finally, I faced Mistress, my heart full of devotion. "Thank you, Mistress."

"Damn! The slut gets her ass whipped, and she fucking thanks us for it!" Ms. Tan exclaimed, marveling at the scene. Her laughter echoed through the room, contagious and filled with delight.

"That's what a submissive sissy maid does." Mistress's eyes full of humor, "Isn't that right, Darlin?"

I curtsied again, "Yes Mistress, that is what a submissive sissy does."

Ms. Tan grabbed hold of my leash. "Isla, I really like those lips you gave her." She turned to Mistress, "How is she at kissing?"

Mistress's eyes sparkled in amusement. "Find out for yourself." She smiled in response.

Ms. Tan pulled on my leash, bringing me down to her mouth. Her lips were soft but demanding. I tasted beer and pizza as she slid her tongue into my mouth. My chastity perked up at her action, causing me to willingly respond.

After a few moments of exploring my mouth with her tongue, she broke the kiss.

Stepping back, she mused, her eyes flickering with thought. "That was okay. I liked it," she said, her tone almost clinical. Turning to Mistress, she added, "She's not bad. It was a very easy kiss. But it felt like she was just... receiving. Her participation was fine, but there was no real back and forth."

"That's because she's a pure submissive," Mistress explained, her voice warm with amusement. "As Sprite, she's not allowed to initiate touching or affection without permission. She's usually entirely on the receiving end." She paused, her expression softening as a faraway look filled her eyes. "Before she was Sprite, things were much different. Bill knew exactly what he was doing."

"Really?" Ms. Tan tilted her head, her curiosity piqued. "What were his kisses like back then?"

Mistress's lips curved into a nostalgic smile as she exchanged a glance with Ms. Lawrence. "Bill's kisses were..."

"Amazing! Spectacular! Mind-blowing!" Ms. Lawrence chimed in enthusiastically.

Mistress nodded in agreement, her cheeks flushing faintly. "Yes, all of that."

Ms. Tan turned her curious gaze back to me, her expression incredulous. "I want a mind-blowing kiss!" she demanded, her tone petulant and playful, lips forming a dramatic pout.

Both Mistress and Ms. Lawrence broke into laughter, the sound filling the room. Mistress calmed herself, her crystal blue eyes twinkling with mischief. "I think we can make that happen, Jenny," she said smoothly, turning her gaze to me.

Her smile was knowing, her tone firm. "Sprite, I want you to give her a real kiss--like Bill used to. Don't hold back."

I felt Bill stir within me, a part of myself long sequestered but never forgotten. A chill raced up my spine as the mental shift took hold. I felt my posture change, my balance realigning from my hips to my chest and shoulders. I looked down at Jen- Ms. Tan, her petite, feminine form suddenly filling my vision. She saw my change and now her questioning eyes met mine, uncertain yet intrigued.

I hesitated, glancing at Mistress for reassurance. Her approving nod and encouraging smile spurred me forward.

Straightening my posture, I squared up to Ms. Tan, gently pulling the leash handle from her grasp and letting it hang between my breasts. Placing my hands on her shoulders, I leaned in close, my eyes locking with hers. Slowly, I traced one hand behind her neck, my fingers tangling in her sleek black hair.

Bending down, I pressed my lips to hers.

Her lips were soft, yielding beneath mine as she tried to dominate the kiss, her earlier confidence resurfacing. But this time, I took control. This time, I was kissing her. My kiss was firm, assured, and unrelenting. Slowly, she began to understand and relax, her body melting into mine as her resistance faded. A quiet sigh escaped her, her arms wrapping around my waist and her body giving a slight shiver as she surrendered completely.

Time seemed to blur, each moment drawn out as she let me have my way with her. When I finally pulled back, gently breaking the kiss, my heart was pounding in my chest, my chastity straining with exhilaration.

Ms. Tan stepped back, her fingers brushing her lips as if to preserve the sensation. The room fell silent, every eye trained on her. She glanced around, her expression dazed and awestruck.

Finally, she broke the silence, her voice loud and breathless. "Oh my God! I am so fucking horny right now!"

I felt a satisfied Bill recede as the room burst into laughter and lively cheers and conversation. I stepped back with a curtsy, holding my hands in front of me and bowing my head like the sissy maid that I was.

All of the ladies were smiling and giggling and laughing, enjoying the moment.

Except for Mistress.

She held her smile for the others, but I could see the mirth had drained from her eyes, replaced by something else.

She would smile and stay included in the conversation, but sometimes, when she looked at me, her smile faltered.

A chill of trepidation coiled up my spine. Had I upset her, or done something wrong? My heart ached with the uncertainty. Then she would look at me with that familiar, breathtaking love that always filled me with warmth--only for it to be replaced moments later by something else, something I couldn't name but that weighed heavily on my chest.

I doubted anyone else noticed the shift in her demeanor or caught the subtle changes in her tone and expression. She was always the Mistress, her composure flawless as ever. But no one knew my Goddess the way I did.

I kept my head down and continued to serve for the next hour until things began to wind down and Mistress's guests prepared to leave.

Mrs. Jones took orders from them for her makeup products. Mistress, ever the generous hostess, insisted on paying for all of the orders.

I helped Mrs Jones pack her makeup case and stood ready by the door while the ladies said their goodbyes to Mistress. They each gave her a hug, thanking her, and headed my way.

Ms Lawrence came and stopped in front of me. "I'll see you in a few days at my house. Maybe you can serve a get-together like this there sometime." I curtsied and responded "I am at your service, Miss." she stroked my chin as she stepped out.

Dr. Morgan set her hand on my shoulder, "This was lovely, Sprite, and just the break I needed. Maybe I will ask your Mistress to send you to my place. My schedule doesn't give me a whole lot of time for cleaning."

"I would be happy to serve you, Doctor." I responded. She smiled and stepped out.

Ms Tan punched me lightly on the arm. "I will see you on my waxing table, bitch! Don't wait too long." With that, she practically skipped out of the door, pulling out her phone as she went to her car. Clearly and without any regard as to who may be listening, she spoke into the phone, "Are you home? Good, you need to have that dick out and ready for me, I am going to tear that literal fucker up!" she smiled and gave me a thumbs up as she entered the driver's side. I waved in return.

Mrs. Jones looked after her with a happy smile. "She always brings life to the salon." she turned to me. "You know, Sprite, you really give excellent foot rubs. I have half a mind to employ you." She winked as she stepped out, pulling her makeup case behind her.

I closed the door behind them and returned to the den. Mistress Anna was helping Mistress Emily out of her seat and supporting her towards the bedrooms.

Mistress Emily stopped in front of me, her arm held across her sister's shoulders. She pointed a finger at my breast and, in a loose slurry tone, "You are my sissy bitch.... SPRITE!... but you are .... ok! And you can... rub my feet... anytime! Heheheh!"

Mistress Anna gave me a wry grin. "C'mon, Emily, let's get you to bed." Then she helped her sister down the hall. I could hear her mutter "That's my sissy bitch, right there!" as she was nudged into her room.

The echoes of feminine laughter and clinking wine glasses and lively conversation had died away, leaving a calm but tense silence behind them. The room that had been full of people had emptied out, leaving only two.

Mistress stood in the middle of the room, studying me with an unreadable expression. I felt the nervous energy cycle up and down my spine.

Unsure of what else to do, I curtsied and asked "Should I start cleaning, Mistress?"

She looked around. I had done a good job of cleaning as the night passed. There were only the used glasses and a couple empty wine bottles left for me to gather up.

She stepped up to me silently, searching into my eyes for something. She grabbed my leash and wrapped it around her hand tightly pulling the slack out of it, giving my collar a slight tug. The feeling of her absolute ownership of me sent shivers through my chastity. Then she loosened her grip and quietly let the leash hang between my breasts. Instead, she gently took my hand and led me to her bedroom.

She pulled me to the side of her bed and released my hand. Turning back to me, she unclipped the chain leash from my collar. After gathering it up in her hand, she placed it on her vanity table.

She stood there, looking at me and seeming to search for something within herself. Finally, she locked eyes with me. "Sprite, I want your safe word."

Fear enveloped me. Had I done something wrong? Is she mad at me? "I'm sorry Mistress, I tried to do everything right. Did I do something wrong, Mistress? I-"

"Safe word, Sprite." she said quietly.

"But I did whatever was asked of m-"

"Dammit, Sprite, let me talk to my husband!" It was more a plea than a command, but there was no mistaking the authority in her voice.

She straightened up and stood tall, filling up the room. Summoning up the Mistress within her, she trained her diamond crystal gaze at me, piercing into my soul.

"Now Sprite." there would be no more argument.

I felt like a rabbit under the gaze of a tiger. I was nearly frozen in fear. Any resistance would incur her wrath and she would get what she wanted anyway.

Um, maybe it would be a good idea to take a break for a bit. To step back and let Bill take control for a while. That is what Mistress, my Goddess wants.

I gazed back at this embodiment of feminine power and beauty standing in front of me, and obeyed.

Closing my eyes, I spoke the word, "Matilda"

2.

Taking a deep breath, I opened my eyes to find Brenda staring at me, her gaze piercing, as though she was searching for some hidden sign of recognition. Her shoulders remained taut, her expression clouded with uncertainty and apprehension.

"Bill?" she asked, her voice soft but trembling.

When I nodded and answered, "Hey, Babe," the tension drained from her frame like a dam giving way. I almost fired off one of my usual quips, but the sight of a single tear sliding down her cheek stopped me cold.

"Oh, hey! Honey!" I rushed to her and pulled her into my arms. She wrapped herself around me, clutching me tightly, her face buried in my neck. The strength of her embrace caught me off guard--so fierce, so desperate, like she hadn't seen me in years. I held her just as firmly, the world narrowing to the space we occupied together.

We stood there, locked in each other's arms, the silence stretching as I stroked her back, content to hold her forever if that's what she needed. Finally, her grip loosened, and she pulled back just enough to lift her head and meet my gaze.

"Are you okay?" I asked softly, studying her face. She looked tired yet happy, though something lingered beneath the surface--something lost, unsure. A faint flush colored her cheeks, and her crystal-blue eyes shone with unspoken emotions that cut straight to my heart.

"Will you kiss me?" she asked, her voice trembling, plaintive. She hesitated for a heartbeat before continuing, her words barely above a whisper. "Kiss me like you used to... like you kissed Jenny Tan?"

What response could I give but to bring my lips to hers?

Her lips were soft, yielding under mine, their warmth igniting something deep and familiar within me. Our lipsticks slid against each other, leaving faint traces of color as she surrendered to my passion--and then, like a flame catching, she met it with her own.

She melted into me, her arms wrapping around my back with a desperate, almost aching need, as if she were trying to pull me inside her, to fuse us into one being, one soul. A soft, shuddering sigh escaped her, a sound that resonated through both of us as she gave herself over completely, body and heart, to the moment.

She broke the kiss, stepping back as her fingers brushed over her lips, her expression contemplative. For a fleeting moment, she seemed lost in thought--but then her eyes sharpened, turning predatory.

Before I could react, she closed the distance again, her hands cradling my face with a fierce tenderness. Her lips claimed mine with an urgency that set my pulse racing. This time, she wasn't hesitant; she was all fire and hunger.

She thrust her tongue into my mouth, her movements bold and unapologetic, only to ease back a heartbeat later, inviting me to respond. And I did.

There was no domination in this kiss, no struggle for control--only raw, unspoken want and need. Our lips and tongues moved in harmony, a perfect rhythm that felt less like a battle and more like a dance. A dance of equals. A dance of lovers rediscovering each other.

Our passion ignited fully, our breathing heavy and ragged, we moved with unspoken agreement to undress each other. She unzipped my dress, letting it cascade to the floor, and I pulled her shirt over her head, tossing it aside. Our bras followed, falling to the floor like forgotten barriers. We pressed against each other, our bare breasts meeting as our lips found each other again, kisses growing deeper and more insistent.

My caged penis throbbed, straining desperately against its confinement. As if reading my mind, she broke the kiss and reached into the drawer of her nightstand, her movements quick and deliberate. She retrieved the key, her fingers trembling with anticipation.

Dropping to her knees, she slid my panties down my legs, exposing my chastity cage. Her hands shook as she inserted the key into the lock, her urgency matching my own. The soft click of the release was like music to my ears.

Freedom! In an instant, I was fully erect, pulsing with need, aching for her touch.

She remained on her knees, her face mere inches from my cock, which bobbed eagerly before her. With a wicked smile, she tilted her head to look up at me. Holding my gaze, she leaned forward and enveloped me with her mouth, her lips warm and soft, her movements both bold and deliberate.

Oh my God! That felt so--Oh! Oh! Oh!

I couldn't hold back. Maybe ten seconds passed before I spilled myself into her eager, welcoming throat.

She released me gently, her lips curling into a satisfied, loving smile. Rising back to her feet, she kissed me deeply, her passion reigniting as if the moment had only stoked her hunger. She guided my hands to her breasts, and I obliged eagerly, squeezing their soft, full curves and teasing her nipples with my thumbs. Her soft sighs encouraged me, each sound a melody of pleasure.

Then she leaned down, her warm lips finding my nipple. The sensation was electric, a jolt of pleasure that sent shivers through me. "Oh!" I gasped, losing myself in the warmth of her mouth and the flick of her tongue. Time blurred into a haze of sensation until she pulled away, leaving my skin tingling and wanting.

She straightened with an air of deliberate playfulness, her eyes locked on mine, gleaming with mischief. Slowly, she turned, giving me a full view of her incredible form.

Teasingly, she bent forward, her back arching to showcase her flawless curves, her amazing ass taking center stage. My breath caught as she began sliding her leggings down her legs, inch by agonizing inch. Her panties followed, revealing more of her tantalizing skin, the motion deliberate and unhurried.

All the while, she glanced back at me over her shoulder, her predatory smile holding me captive. It was a look that promised more pleasure.

Unable to resist her allure, I stepped closer, my hands drawn to her like magnets. I caressed her round, perfect cheeks, marveling at the softness of her skin beneath my palms. She sighed, leaning back against me, her body fitting perfectly to mine like a key in a lock.

The floral scent of roses and lilacs enveloped me as she step-walked gracefully out of her leggings, sliding her feet free,

I followed her lead, kicking off my heels, the discarded shoes barely making a sound as they hit the floor. My stockings and garter belt weren't going anywhere. I had wrapped my arm around her front, feeling her taut stomach, the muscles beneath her skin dancing under my caress.

She turned to face me, her lips curling into a knowing smile before leaning in, capturing my mouth with hers. Her kisses were consuming, her desire unrelenting, and I surrendered completely to her passion.

There was no stopping her--no stopping us. I felt the fire between us burning hotter and brighter. Her touch was everywhere, setting my senses alight. As her body pressed into mine, I felt life returning to my groin, her every movement stoking the embers into a blaze.

Taking my hand, she gently tugged me toward the bed. With a graceful motion, she pulled back the covers and slid beneath them, her gaze and hand never leaving mine. She pulled on my hand, and I joined her, our bodies fitting seamlessly together as we lay side by side.

Our kisses deepened, soft caresses growing bolder as our hands explored familiar yet electrifying territory. Her skin was warm and inviting, her every sigh fueling my desire.

I trailed my lips to her neck, her soft, salty skin filling my senses. She tilted her head for me as her fingers tangled in my hair. Slowly, reverently, I worked my way down her body, savoring every inch.

When I reached her breasts, I paused, giving each the attention they deserved. I sucked gently, my lips teasing her nipples while my tongue circled and flicked. She moaned softly, her body arching into mine, her pleasure a melody that urged me on.

Continuing my descent, I kissed and worshiped her body, cherishing every sigh and quiver beneath my touch. Finally, I arrived at her most sacred place, my lips brushing her with a reverence that made her gasp.

I gave her a long, languid lick, tasting her readiness and hearing her sharp intake of breath. Her fingers clenched in the sheets, her body trembling beneath my ministrations. She was wet, eager, ready. I was ready too.

I moved back up her body, our eyes locking in a silent conversation. No words were needed; the love, trust, and desire between us spoke volumes.

Her hand slid between us, finding my hardness. With practiced, guiding movements, she positioned me. Slowly, intimately, I entered her, a sensation so exquisite it felt like coming home.

She gasped as I entered her, her body arching to meet mine. I moved inside her, slow at first, watching the look of pure ecstasy spread across her face--the look I loved more than anything.

Her legs wrapped around me, pulling me deeper, and I found a rhythm that evoked a symphony of moans and gasps from her lips. The crescendo built until she let out that breathless squeak, her telltale sign of release.

I paused, letting her catch her breath as her legs relaxed their hold on me. Her eyes met mine, filled with love and satisfaction, but then widened in surprise as I began moving again.

A sly grin tugged at her lips. "You're not done, are you?"

"Not even close," I murmured, my voice low and teasing.

I thrust into her, each movement bringing her closer to another climax. Her moans grew louder, her hands roaming my back before sliding down to grasp my buttocks. The pressure of her grip sent a thrill through me, but then I felt something shift inside me.

The realization hit me: I still had the butt plug in.

Her fingers began moving it, synchronizing with my rhythm, each motion stroking my prostate with maddening precision. My eyes locked on hers, and the mischief dancing in her crystal-blue gaze sent a shiver through me.

"Oh, you wicked--" I tried to speak, but the words dissolved into a moan as the dual sensations overwhelmed me.

Moments later, I felt myself unravel. The pleasure surged through me like a tidal wave, leaving me breathless, weightless, as if my very spirit had left my body.

She cradled my head in her bosom, stroking my platinum curls as I tried to catch my breath. I brought my head level with hers and I basked in the love she was sending me.

"I missed you." She said as she stroked my cheek. "I love Sprite, but sometimes I really miss you."

I swallowed hard at her words, feeling a mix of pride and guilt. I wanted to say the perfect thing, but all I could do was kiss her softly, "I'm right here, my love, always."

We spent the next minutes softly kissing and caressing. Her hand traveled down my hip and over my butt cheek, reminding me of the spanking from earlier. "Ooh! I still feel that!" I said, she chuckled in response.

"Her fingers paused on my hip, gripping just slightly as she searched my eyes. 'How are you? How is Sprite?' Her voice was soft, but her eyes betrayed a quiet worry."

" I am very good." I waved my hand, showcasing our current positions, "even more so, now!" she smiled at my little joke. "Sprite is happy, she's ecstatic! She loves you so much. You are everything she needs you to be." I locked eyes with her. "She worships you."

She smiled and then gave me a conspiratorial look. "Don't tell her I said this. But Sprite is pretty wonderful herself." We both chuckled.

She spent some time in thought, caressing my side and hip. "I know we will probably never see the old Bill again. You have changed so much." She looked up into my eyes, "But you could always be Sprite, the partner, instead of Sprite, the slave."

I thought about her words. I could feel Sprite inside me, giving her opinion.

"Maybe someday. But I don't think Sprite can handle being anywhere but at your feet, that is enough for her right now."

She gave me a resigned sigh and a smile. She went in for one more kiss and rolled over, making herself the little spoon and cradling herself in my arms. "She may be a partner soon, anyway"

"What does that mean?" my curiosity was piqued at her cryptic words. Her silence stretched out, letting me know an answer wasn't coming.

Taking my hand in hers, she held it to her heart. "I love you, you sissy bitch."

"Hey!" I pulled my hand away and lightly tapped her but cheek. She giggled and pulled my hand back to her heart. "I just love you, ok?" she said.

I felt her warm, naked body against mine and kissed the nape of her neck. "I just love you, too."

She kissed my hand and held it to her. I watched her as her breathing evened and her hand relaxed.

I snuggled in and held The Most Wonderful Woman in the World as close to me as I could and slowly drifted off to sleep.