Getting punched in the dick... in a glass elevator...

... and loving it obviously. 

Miss delivered on a suggested itinerary for the shopping trip, as we had some foot squishing at breakfast, some bottom groping on the way to the market and some pinching in amongst this which made me squeal and hop like the little bitch I am.

Oh yes and she loved the idea of being a Bitch and pointed out that i am also actually her little bitch, which is of course right and true and which i will expand on in due course.  

Meantime we walked to the market and clocked some useful alcoves, little out of the way nooks that would be useful for us to pull over and for some firmly applied spanks to my well presented package. 

Alcoves, you use this word? 

We had a little chuckle at this which is as important to me as lining up places for Miss to correct my privates for her amusement and education. It means we still have the friendship, the fun and while I also like having her step in and sort me out, she doesn't want a sputtering sycophant. She wants someone who can challenge her and give as good as she gives, even if ultimately only one of us is going to be having their bottom pinched and smacked, and if I get in some annoying tickles on hers, and i do, she will always be the winner in the end.    

Alcoves are important too as I abhor the idea that our fun and games might annoy or worse off put those just going about their business and who don't want to see some dom sub activity in the street. I try to encourage her not to fondle or pinch my bottom in the street when people are behind us as it might creep them out. It might also be someone I know, which would make she's just a friend explanations harder. How much more so if she just spanked me on my crotch or slapped my face? So alcoves are not just an amusing call back to In Bruges, but a lovely mini play option for correcting me and my sass mouth when required or when she feels like it. 

As it was Miss was very injudicious about fondling my bottom, even doing it when we were talking to a couple of market traders we like. Nawty Miss.

But nicest of all was when we got to our station for the train home. Here we were to part and I suggested we catch the glass elevator to our platform as if alone in it she could spank my privates. Which she did, hitting from above so mainly punching me in the dick in effect, a comment used back home to describe a highly unsatisfactory day (e.g. at a sporting event where your team loses) but for which here I was in subbie heaven, until she tried to grab my package and squeeze and i squealed like a girl. All too soon we arrived at our platform and sadly the train arrived early. Miss and I hugged and she let her hand grip me again by the crotch, rough and wonderful, before climbing onto her train. She sat down and made silly faces about an annoying looking woman a couple of rows up and i made ticking her off for being nawty gestures (smacking my hand to show her being bad etc). All of which was very silly in the last moments before the train pulled out and I walked off to wait for my train, a long time to sigh and ponder the romantic duffing up I'd had, and slowly detumify so I could get on the train without my silicon caged package poking at my trousers. 

In a glass elevator it  was so exposed, but on way up who looks up? I was exposed but who, lost in their own world would notice two people old enough to know better giving out and taking some  genital abuse?     

Thank you Miss. 

I'm still locked in the silicon chastity and the zip lock tie and it will be a full week tomorrow.

Sigh. more thoughts for next week when I will be back on Miss' home turf, and with an eye on our anniversary coming up week after that. 

Oh and presents should have arrived in time for that too. 

More details to follow.