Slave Takes Charge For a While

With a wedding and travel, Mistress and Slave have gotten a little off schedule with our Sunday switch  – the day when the Slave gets to lord it over his loving Mistress for a change.

Quite frankly, the more I have adapted to my role as Slave, the less compelling I have been in my roll as the occasional Master. I can’t help but show my deference, and Mistress can’t help but call me Slave, even when she is tied to the bed and at my mercy.

On Saturday night, Mistress and I had been out late with friends. On the way home we had to stop at one of those sad suburban multiplexes parked in a sea of slow food franchise restaurants, where Surly teen two had gone to seem that bloated sequel to Titanic with a friend. Naturally, the movie was still lumbering on when we arrived, so Mick and Molly parked next to some SUV’s to await the teen’s text announcing her availability to be taxied home. We used the time to review and answer some emails (some from our adventurous friend M) but Mistress’s low cut top was a bit too tempting to her Slave. And since Sunday had already arrived, I took the liberty to help myself to Mistress’s lovely and generous breasts.

Those breasts seem more responsive than ever these days, and as I prodded and squeezed Mistress’s nipples became firm and hard and she turned to kiss me with a passion that seemed to have already spread to her squirming hips. While my mouth turned to work her nipples, my fingers found my way betweens the legs of her soft velvet pants. An I think I had Mistress close to the edge just as some high beams shined through our windshield, killing the mood.

“Guess the movie’s out”, I muttered, and Mistress moaned a bit in frustration, her thighs squeezing the hand that lingered between her legs, before letting go to let me turn the ignition key.

Soon the teen’s text was chiming and we were called to duty. We made our pick-up and arrived home long after midnight, normally past this seemingly boring couple’s bedtime. But the sparks kindled in the parking lot were not quite damped. 

Mistress’s lower back had been tender, due to all that spinning and biking. So I volunteered to apply the magic wand, for medicinal purposes only, of course.

I soothed her back at low speed, and Mistress seemed content. And we had agreed in advance that we would hold further “activity” until morning. So the “power tool” was shut down, the lights out, and Mistress and Slave settled into bed. But Slave was still a bit on edge. And it was Sunday…

Pressed against Mistress’s bottom, my cock would just not settle down. Lord knows I sort’a tried to get sleepy. But my fingers could not help but find their way between Mistress’s thighs. And she was still wet there. I plucked and prodded a bit, and Mistress’s lovely bottom was soon pressing more aggressively back against my by now very hard cock. 

I guess Mistress had stored up the memory of her near orgasm in the parking lot, so it seemed like only moments before she was bucking against my hand and gasping into her pillow.  And she was generous enough to let me take her then, before we finally fell asleep.

Sunday morning came, and I was up early, working on my homework, and enjoying the last episode of the comic now in exile via Hulu. I let Mistress sleep in (that was my prerogative on switch day). And when I finally heard her stirring, I brought up the papers, made us some coffee.

When Mistress finally indicated that she was ready to take her Sunday morning medicine, I know I would be a pushover Temp Master. I found out bag of goodies and locked the red wrist cuffs on her, using some rope to tie them, joined together to the little eyebolt screwed into our bed head.  Other leather cuffs joined her ankles together.

I rolled my little “Slave” for the morning, and proceeded to massage her firm and fleshy bottom until she was beginning to squirm just a bit. Then I proceeded with a relatively mild hand spanking, hardly enough to bring tears. Just enough to get the blood flowing to Mistress’s bottom.

As I administered the spanking, we talked about her on again, off again quest for a part-time Dom who could train and discipline her the right way, for real, not the pretend ministrations of her full time Slave. This always seems to get Mistress flowing all the quicker.

I interrupted the spanking from time to time with some gentler touches, and then cranked up the Magic Wand, still handy at bedside for further back therapy, before finally allowing Mistress to roll over onto her back.

To get better access to her, I un-cuffed her ankles, and then used my fingers  and lips to further arouse her, until my squirming little Slave was on the verge.  As I pulled away, she whined her frustration. But I had more in store.

I attached the large blue phallic attachment to the wand and pressed its head to Mistress’s rather juicy opening. It’s a big, full phallus and I took the time necessary to work it’s vibrating head into her inch by inch.

I enjoyed watching Mistress’s well exercised leg and stomach muscles strain and churn as she tried to get a better angle on the device that was driving her crazy. By now the large blue head had slid almost all the way inside  her,  but her clit was just barely missing out on the fun.

Mistress was pulling against her restraints over head, and straining with all her might to make the contact that she needed. And her Slave was toying with her. Delightful fun.

As I finally allowed her the contact that her body was desperate for, Mistress’s head was thrown back, her body churning, a deep and breathless moan sounding from deep in her chest. Oh, I got her good.

As she lay there panting in the afterglow, I turned off my tool and took my prize. Though she was still restrained, it seemed that the power dynamics had already shifted back where they belonged. And I was careful to ask her permission before I came with a roar of my own.

At her request I released Mistress. But through the day my mind kept coming back to the image of that desperate Slave straining for release. Some lucky Dom may have his hands full someday.