Mistress Hoped Slave Forgot our "Switch" Day

 Sunday morning was an early rise for this Slave. I wanted to finish an entry started the day before (my uncompleted homework assignment), and bring our readers up to date with Saturday’s activities. It was a no-ski day because of a road trip required to pick up surly teen number 1’s boyfriend at the  airport….about 3 hours away.

When my work was done and Mistress called for me from our bedroom, I dutifully responded, and she opened up her laptop to enjoy my work, while I positioned myself between her legs. 

Mistress got some new lingerie from her Slave for Christmas, and she was wearing some new lacy black panties that matched her top (see the photo). It was one of those mornings when I was in no hurray to remove her panties. I just pressed my mouth and tongue against her there, using the slightest motion to agitate her as she read my account, that featured the stimulus we derived from new  found friends in blog-land.

When Mistress put down her computer, she seemed surprised when I did not “finish my job”, but instead retreated to a bathroom cabinet, where our little portable Bondage kit was stored. It was our “switch” day. “Oh…I was hoping you had forgotten”, she said, but her smile suggested otherwise.

AS she languished in bed, I fastened red leather cuffs to her wrists, securing  them with tiny locks. I then clipped her wrists together overhead, and used a handy rope to secure them to an eyebolt screwed to the wooden head of our bed. (I sometimes wonder what folks who borrow our little mountain cabin think of these little accessories, including the eyebolt screwed to a ceiling beam, or the riding crop hardly hidden in the closet).

Mistress was now on her stomach, her bottom available to me, still in those lacy black panties. With teens in our small house, I knew I had to keep the volume to a minimum, so I gently rubbed her ass until she was squirming nicely in anticipation of what was to come. It’s fun to keep Mistress guessing when I get the chance.

Then I began to spank her. Not particularly hard. It’s really not in me to inflict any real punishment on Mistress. That task will be left to the Master who steps  forward and tries to make Mistress submit to her.

But the spanking I did administer – interrupted with occasional forays with probing fingers between her legs – soon had Mistress squirming even more, and moaning into the pillow under her head.

I retrieved a small v-shaped silicone vibrator from our bag of tricks, and turned it on. Lifting back the panel of her black panties, I slid one end of the V  into her sopping cunt,  while the other end pressed between her outer lips. As her hips squirmed against the bed  with increasing agitation, Mistress was in position to make herself  come.

As she ground against the bed, hands still tied over head, I lay next to her, one hand still massaging her pert bottom, and asked her to consider what it would be like to be spanked hard and with purpose by someone who actually would make her beg for permission to come. That thought seemed to make Mistress even more agitated, and soon her grinding against the bed led to a moaning, thrashing orgasm which left her limp in her bonds, yet now begging, “Fuck me, Slave”.

My cock had been pressed against her hip as Mistress brought herself to orgasm, and I was more than ready to help Mistress roll over and accommodate her needs. Though I am her Slave, there is something compelling about having a woman of such beauty helpless before me, wet, writhing and begging for a good fucking. I took my time to position her, finally sliding off those black panties and then filling her in a way that seemed to please her.

At this point I was in no hurry, so took my time to force another orgasm from Mistress before asking “Mistress, may I come”. (I just can’t shed my Slave persona, even on our switch days…guess I really am a Sub Hubby at heart).

After recovering from our mutual stupor, I released Mistress from her bonds, and she resumed command.

Later that morning, we headed to the airport, teens in tow. Mistress fiddled with her I-Phone when reception was available, and commented (in M/ s code) that she had received charming photos from our new found friend to the North, M, who is also a Slave to his Wife’s desires.  She seemed interested.

Later, as I sat in the cell lot, and Mistress was in the airport retrieving boyfriend and his bags, she texted “M  has sent us a new story. Hot.” She was right, and I suspect what got Mistress particularly hot was M’s story about his earlier DOM-er days. Lots of spanking and strong handed sex. Something Mistress has a hankering to experience.

By the time we got back to our Cabin, sun was down and the moon lit up the snow fields. We helped boyfriend settle in, unpacked provisions for the next few days, poured glasses of wine, and retreated to the bedroom, leaving the rest of the place a Parent free zone.

After face-booking and reading the Sunday Times a bit, our talk turned to Mistress’s e-mailed invitation to our new friends to visit us some day at our undisclosed location (well, we have told them where we are, and it’s not so far away). Mistress speculated on how that sort of visit would evolve, and her thoughts even made this slave blush.

Of course, this speculation amounted to mental foreplay, as we closed our day with another session between our sheets, starting with Mistress brushing up on her oral skills, followed by more Slave begging for permission to slide inside. Mistress often threatens to make me come in her mouth, but then reconsiders. “Why waste a good, hard cock”, seems to be her philosophy. And who can blame her.