Girl Time

If Iris could have spanked me through her cell phone on Saturday, I think she would have. You see, she really does hold me accountable for M's inspired injunction against having an orgasm while he was away.

And I'm afraid that, while we were texting on the subject, I was not completely sympathetic to her agony. Although I did advise her that cleaning the bathrooms sometimes helps push away that frustrated needy angst, I will indeed admit that I was enjoying her effort to restrain herself rather more than I was offering girl-friendship-empathy.

And then at some point Chris took the phone away, read back through our text conversation, and when I got it back, he had advised her to spank me.

She had agreed.

Oh dear.

I was allowed to express my dismay but I soon lost the phone again to Chris. When I recovered it a second time, it was to find that not only was a scene being planned, but that the logistics of separating me from the princess had already been organized.

Oh dear, again. I was overcome by a small shiver of ... was that dread or anticipation?

You see, I've seen Iris play, and I know one important thing about me. Rile me and I can turn around and deliver as good as I get, at least for a limited time. You see, I have switched. And I know Iris well enough to know that if she had the desire and the motivation and the interest, she would be an excellent and very firm top.

Chris did not make it easier. At one point, he came up behind me and whispered in my ear - taunting me. "You know, Iris may have different rules than I do."

"What do you mean? Did you talk to her?" I asked quickly.

He just grinned. "And you have to obey them," he answered.

My gut twisted a little.

On Saturday night, I texted her again. Chris was determined to keep me off-balance - small comments that kept me spinning between impishness (Do Your Worst, Iris!) and subspace (Yes, ma'am.). My natural impulse is, I think, to talk back, at least from the safe distance of our cell phones, but I have spent so much dedicated time lately with my head focused on pleasing Chris, and he was encouraging it, that if Iris had told me I had to stand on my head and sing the alphabet song backward I probably would have tried.

But she wasn't any help. "Yay Chris," she texted back with a big smile. The knots in my stomach wound a little tighter. "Does he have any suggestions?"

Luckily I was in a situation where I couldn't ask him and couldn't pass him the phone without making a big deal about it. Because I'm sure he would have had.

Thankfully, by Sunday afternoon the edge of anxiety had worn off a little. Daddy and the princess took off from her apartment while Iris and I promised to catch up soon. "Any suggestions?" Iris asked as Daddy closed the front door.

"Have fun!" he replied.

She grinned at me and grabbed my wrist. "C'mon then," she ordered.

Oh dear.

Forty-five minutes later, we did finally catch up with Daddy and the princess. "So how did she behave?" he asked Iris. I felt like stalking off and hiding under a blanket, but I blushed instead.

Iris generously and vaguely said I was "very good for this time."

I helpfully bit my lip but added, "She said I needed another spanking."

"When I can be even more evil," Iris clarified.

Oh dear.