"They feel fine, really," I said. "It looks a lot worse than it feels, that's for sure. Most of it is just where some of the blood scabbed under the skin, and that will take a few days to work its way out and fade. But I do have to remember to wear rubber gloves until they heal when I cook dinner. The lemon juice on my left hand wasn’t too fun.”
Sophie turned her head to the side and looked at me out of the corner of her one eye. "It was kind of funny to watch you hopping around and muttering curses as Tabby and I tried not to laugh."
"You still did anyway," I noted, working my thumbs in alternating circles down her spine. I was straddling Sophie's upper thighs, both of us wearing nothing as we rejoiced in each other's presence. My erection was already halfway up, nestled in between the soft swells of her butt. Still, I wasn't ready or needing sex just yet, I wanted to focus on Sophie first. She was, and is, the light of my life, and the reason I can do everything I do. "In fact, I think I saw a bit of milk dribble from the side of your mouth when I whacked my hand on the countertop as I was hopping around."
"It's just funny, that's all," Sophie said, before a sigh, groan and giggle all mixed together to interrupt her words. "I've seen you do what seems like superhuman things, fight multiple men like it's nothing, and you get reduced to cursing and even I think a tear or two from some lemon in a boo-boo."
"Careful there, my love. You keep making fun of me, and you'll find your backside still isn't too tender for a spanking."
Sophie wiggled her hips, which sent a course of electricity through my cock, causing it to harden some more. "I can tell. Then again, maybe your ass isn't too tender for a spanking either."
I leaned over and kissed her shoulder, nuzzling against her silky soft hair. "If you want, my love."
It was perhaps one of the best parts about being with Sophie. Being with her, we'd both blossomed in self confidence, which sounds weird considering that I had such a reputation as an Alpha Male type before meeting her. But being in her arms, knowing she both accepted me and depended on me, protected me as well as being protected by me, we could both let go of our inhibitions.
Sophie turned her head a little more and smiled. "Really?"
"Really. Just... one thing."
"What's that?"
"After last night, well, no more using Mistress, okay?"
* * *
Mark
The next morning, as I prepared breakfast for everyone, Tabby came in with a grin on her face. "Hey, guess what?"
"You won the lottery," Sophie quipped, wearing the yoga pants and t-shirt she preferred for indoor work. She didn't look like a normal housewife, that was for sure, but like some sort of fitness instructor who just happened to be doing laundry or dusting the furniture before her day began.
Tabby, who was wearing one of her business suits, shook her head. While I know Sophie didn't miss wearing the overly constricting and sexualized suits, I had to admit part of me missed seeing her dressed up as the naughtiest of secretaries. "Nah, Tabby decided she wants to run off to Tibet and become the Dalai Lama's interior decorator."
Tabby stuck her tongue out at both of us, a familiar reply when we joked with her, and one that said she was in a good mood. "No, but turn on the TV. Seems we're inspiring people in more ways than one."
I reached over and flicked on the small television on the counter, a leftover from Tabby's old apartment that we just didn't want to throw out. It was too new for one, and fit perfectly underneath the cabinet in the kitchen as well. Jabbing the button, I turned the channel to the local NBC affiliate, which was Tabby's favorite recently due to their favorable coverage of MJT.
"Wait for it, they said they'd repeat it at the top of the hour," she said. I glanced up at the clock and saw it was five minutes to seven, and finished up breakfast. Plating the eggs with grilled mushrooms and eggplant, along with a kale smoothie for Sophie's Vitamin K needs. "Oh, here it is."
"Our top news this morning, it seems our city has gained another new public figure," Don Thompson, one half of the lead anchors, said. He had been on the air with NBC for nearly a decade, and had been one of the first anchors to break the color barrier in the city. I had met him once when I was Marcus Smiley, and thought he was a pretty good journalist. His trademark was his smooth voice, a bit more academic than Billy Dee Williams, but still silky smooth. I momentarily compared him to Gerald Traylor's voice, and thought that while they had some similarities, Don Thompson sounded much more calm and educated.
The screen shot changed as Thompson's voice narrated. "The Filmore Heights neighborhood is no stranger to gang fights and violence, especially from the notorious group known as the Eighty Eights. Here at one of their favorite hangouts, a group of Eighty Eights encountered something new, as a masked vigilante dropped out of seemingly nowhere. Security camera footage...."