[ Drawing herself up into a comfortable stretch, Nami moves away from Mitsuru after dusting one last kiss to her lips, turning around to follow through with her friend's request. ]

I don't think I have to call you that if I'm a queen too.

[ Turning her head to smirk at Mitsuru over her shoulder, she reaches back and unfastens her bra, letting it slide down her arms and to the floor before she bends forward and rests her hands on the edge of the vanity, still looking behind her at her friend as she arches her ass, wiggling it slightly, half teasing half tempting Mitsuru (and her crop) closer. ]

Like this, Mistress?

[ The color on her cheeks isn't likely to be going anywhere soon, not when playing at this with someone she knows like Mitsuru makes it easy to trust, and lean into the desire already working through her, slickness already clinging to her folds in anticipation. ]

Oh?

[ She turns to look ahead only to be caught by Mitsuru's reflection in the vanity's mirror instead, another pang of want shooting through her at the thought of being marked up while the younger woman watches every expression on her face as she's spanked with the crop. Nami's thighs press together as she shifts, the movement almost unconscious as she fends off the shiver that threatens to climb up her spine. ]

I kind of like this possessive side of you, Mitsuru.

[ Based on the lower pitch to her voice when Nami speaks again, she likes it a lot. ]