Mariam’s Day Off
For the first time in recent memory, Sunday morning saw Mariam Kamal not behind the counter or in the kitchen of Kamal’s Baked Goods, but rather lounging about at home, an unusual if welcome break from her strenuous routine. Week after week for over three years, she’d poured her blood, sweat, tears and toil into making her bakery a success, forsaking weekends and holidays to get her business off the ground. It had been a challenge, but one she did not regret taking up, and three years on, she was finally reaping the rewards of all her hard work. Kamal’s Baked Goods was known and respected across the city, she was making a good living, and the business had grown to support over a dozen full-time staff, including a new assistant manager she’d brought in to help her run things over the weekend. It was a break well-earned, and with a sigh, the Persian beauty flopped down on her living room couch, the tension easing away. Patrick had things well in hand, all the orders for the next week had already been taken care of, and she was merely a phone call away in the event of an emergency.
Besides, she’d been neglecting her favourite slave as of late, and needed to make it up to her… “Don’t forgot to give the dining room table a good wipe.”
A muffled grunt answered the demand, and brown eyes stared lustfully at the latex-clad redhead as she carried out her chores. By day, Andrea Maurer worked for Foreign Affairs Canada, working behind the scenes to set up trade agreements and rubbing shoulders with foreign dignitaries and business leaders at a variety of galas and special events. By night, or whenever their mutual passions took hold, she became Mariam’s willing, submissive pleasure slave, her pale, perfect body given over to whatever kinky scenario they both wished to explore. She was certainly dressed the part today. Gloves of form-fitting black latex sheathed her arms all the way up to her biceps, while matching latex stockings clung to her long legs to mid-thigh. Overtop, leather cuffs had been fastened tightly about her wrists and ankles, the short lengths of chain hanging from each able to be easily connected on a whim to leave her bound, while a leather collar and ball gag completed the ensemble. Beyond that, she was naked, glossy latex giving way to pale, smooth skin, her every intimate region utterly exposed, and Mariam suppressed a moan as her lover bent over the dining room table, letting the dusky beauty drink in the sight of her pert bottom. Smirking, Mariam rose from the couch, beautiful in her mid-length black silk nightgown, and slipped in behind her submissive lover, running a hand through deep scarlet locks. “Oh, you’re rather eager, aren’t you, tempting your Mistress like that?” A hand reached down, caressing Andrea’s flank, and Mariam felt the redhead shudder with want, breath hitching behind the gag. “I think you need to be punished again.”
“Mmmppppggh!” came the muffled cry of protest, deep blue eyes glancing back at Mariam with pretend shock. It was a wonderful bit of play-acting, Andrea throwing herself into the role of helpless, struggling slave-girl with aplomb, and not for the first time, Mariam marvelled at how lucky she was to have such a marvellous woman in her life and heart. If there was a kinky fantasy Andrea was uncomfortable with, they’d yet to discover it in the three months since they first made love, and both inside and outside the bedroom, the redhead had proven the supportive partner she’d needed after Monique’s cruelty. That more than anything was the reason she’d hired Patrick to help manage the bakery, so she would finally be able to give Andrea the time and attention and love she deserved, and Mariam leant in close, breathing deep of the strawberry scent of her hair, her own generous breasts pressing against Andrea’s back. “Mmmmpggghhh…” the redhead groaned, dusky fingers teasing her slick folds. “Mmmmpgggghhh!”
“Oh, but you do want it,” Mariam teased. Another twist of her fingers, and Andrea’s body went rigid, breath quickening with delight. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t have made the mistakes you did.” The loud smack echoed throughout the apartment as Mariam’s palm came down on the redhead’s buttocks, a yelp of surprise escaping the gag. “Like using an extra gram of salt in the curry you made for supper.” A second smack, and Andrea’s hands clenched the table’s edge in a white-knuckle grip, the first red imprint of Mariam’s hand emerging on her pale flesh. “Or forgetting to put your boots away when you got in last night.” Again her hand crashed down. “Or not picking up your clothes off the bedroom floor after I had my way with you…”
“Mmmmppgggghhh!” There was no disguising the redhead’s pleasure, and Mariam continued spanking her for a minute longer before pulling her close, left hand fondling her breasts, breath hot upon her neck. “Mmmpppgghhh…”
“You all right there, babe?” Mariam broke character with a whisper, receiving a firm nod in reply. “Want me to keep going?”
A second nod. Grinning, Mariam unbuckled Andrea’s gag and set it on the table, letting her lover breathe free for a moment before her right hand came up and seized the redhead’s jaw. “Then tell me exactly who you belong to.”
“I belong to you,” Andrea whimpered, groaning as Mariam’s left hand resumed teasing the entrance of her womanhood. “I’m—oh, God, Mariam, please…”
Mariam’s fingers went still, and a keening groan seeped past the redhead’s clenched teeth. “I didn’t hear you.”
“I belong to you, Mistress!” Andrea cried out, all dignity forgotten, her hips bucking up and down against Mariam’s fingers in a desperate attempt to reach her peak. “Please, I… I… mmppgghh!”
Full lips passionately crashed together, transmuting Andrea’s pleas to mewls of eager pleasure. “Oh, there’s no use begging, my sweet,” Mariam said innocently, finally breaking the kiss. “After all, it’s not even lunchtime yet, and I took the entire day off to play with you.”
“I’m barely going to be able to walk tomorrow, am I?” admitted the redhead, trembling.
“That’s assuming I even let you go. After all, you’re probably in need of a day off yourself…”
Any possible protest from Andrea died unspoken as the ball gag returned to its rightful place in her mouth, and with a smile, Mariam gently laid the redhead down onto the kitchen floor, hands and lips worshipping every curve. Yes, the bakery would survive without her for one day. For now, Andrea was her sole priority, and she intended to make every moment one to remember…