A Song of Fire and Slippers

There could have been ice, but that was only on Saturday.  

(Master said I left a LOT of the things we did out of my blog, and it's true. It is so hard to get everything in there).

I'm still reeling in shock from a certain person's death on Game of Thrones, while Master tells me he's as dead as Cat Stark, whatever that means...

Last night we were binging on the new season of Orange Is the New Black, which I also love.  If you watch it you might remember this one-  the episode where Doggett and the new guard are frolicking in the park and suddenly it takes a VERY kinky turn.  Very. 

 My Master got some ideas from it.  So, later on he kicked his slipper across the room and told me

 "Fetch." 

I was already on my knees. I crawled over there, but used my hands to pick it up.  He kicked the second one off:

  "Fetch!"

 I went to pick it up and he ordered, "In your mouth".   I took it gingerly by one corner in my mouth, a sheepskin leather slipper, and brought it back to him.  I set it in the spot where slippers go. Humiliating. Hot. 


I was sitting on the floor waiting for my "good girl" afterward, but instead he picked up the lighter and told me to lie down and spread.  He wanted to see if there were any cunt hairs I missed while shaving.   I felt the heat on my thighs and trembled, all the while repeating silently,  "Stay still, he's not really going to burn you, stay still! Just a little longer."   

As much as I was telling myself that, other parts of me were chanting "Flee! Fire! Flee!" But I stayed still.   He touched the hot metal to my thighs and cunt, but it wasn't lit anymore, and wasn't burning hot.  Just hot enough.  I was hot enough too, by this time.  

He told me to come.  I did.

"Get in bed, you slut".

He picked up the wooden spoon and I rolled over for him.