Two Hot Girls on a Hot Summer Night

I met up with my good friend D. for some wine and food at a happy hour. Just a casual seaside bar, nothing special. We were being our jolly cackling selves, oblivious to anything other than each other's fine lady company. A man comes up to us and says, "I just had to come up and say hello to you ladies. You're drinking wine in a bar in the middle of the afternoon. You really know what you want." It's true, we do, we do know what you want.

D. claims to be "vanilla" but I wonder because she quite adeptly verbally humiliates men. She was having a ball twisting his words and telling him how "it really works."

So then, he challenges me to slap him. Never ever challenge a Mistress! Because besides slapping him, I performed some blatant nipple torture and some slightly more discreet CBT under the bar. He barely flinched. This marks a good man in my book, so I shooed him out the door to discuss things with my lady friend to see if she wanted to take this guy home and give us all a good story to tell. D. being the deviant she is, gladly agreed--she is much amused by my antics and had always wanted to watch me work.

So we make him pay our tab of course and we start heading to our apartment.

When you pick up a Lady at a bar and she invites you over to her place, but first must stop at her car to get her suitcase--you should know you are in trouble. He carried my gear bag a few blocks and up a few flights of stairs--did he have any idea what lay in store for him?

Trouble ensues and I bust out the cuffs, nipple clamps and pinwheel. Nothing better than torturing a man in the company of a fine Lady.

I don't kiss and tell, but I will say this, I left my heels on, because, I am a Lady.

I escorted this gentleman to the door and he said, "I sure hope I run into you Ladies again!"

Indeed. Usually those wild stories you hear in the letters published by Penthouse and the like are made-up, but then again, sometimes they are true, well if they are coming from The Real Thing.