During the month of May, before the sisal rope, before Master got us back on track, i was, as i mentioned previously, feeling feisty. So much so, i picked on Master far more than i usually do.
After one lazy afternoon fuck... Wait, there is no such thing as a lazy fuck in this house. In fact, i don't think Master and i have had lazy, luxurious love-making vanilla sex since before we married... But that's all beside the point. Okay, really, after one serious pounding-sheet-clenching-mind-boggling fuck one afternoon, both of us were in need of a quick rinse off, so Master took His socks off, while He lay there basking in "post orgasmic bliss" (something we call "pob") and tossed them at (me) the foot of the bed.
Master wearing socks is in and of itself kind of quirky. For someone who likes to go barefoot in the grass, He almost never goes without socks, even if He isn't planning on going anywhere. Personally, i kind of like being barefoot these days, as often as possible...
But back to the point.
Master essentially handed me a weapon to unleash my feistyness that afternoon... His socks. A good mens' athletic sock with a knot in one end or the other becomes quite the weapon. Before Master knew what hit Him, i was whacking Him with His own socks. i'm sure that He felt rather indignant about being beaten with His own socks, but once i made a crack about knotted socks being akin to a bag of Valencia oranges, He couldn't help but laugh along with me as i was beating Him with His own socks. Until i figured out how to aim with the knotted sock.
At which point, He wrestled away one of His socks and we had a full fledged sock war. Lemme tell you, i was surprised at the difference in sound as the knotted sock made contact with my soft girlie-flesh. And it stung. And it was kind of a thuddy impact, like a heavy flogger.
But i couldn't let Him win! Oh, no, i couldn't. i was feeling feisty.
Everything eventually comes to a close, an end of the chapter, cessation of an event... And so the sock wars did end...
Once we were laughing too hard to really continue, and after i'd received a whack or two to the eye, and we popped our knuckles together a few times, and realized that real life beckoned outside the bedroom door, the socks were unknotted and we went about the day...
Vengeance, however, continues. And the start of that was the sisal rope. The story of the best flogging i've had in ages will be next on the list.