Internal Crystal Combustion

The monsoons stopped, finally. So Mistress and Slave were not going to languish too long in bed n Sunday morning, even though it was switch day.

But there was an assignment for M to complete.

“That description sounds a little impossible, Mistress….” (see yesterday’s blog).

Mistress bent her long, tanned and muscular legs this way and that, tryin to replicate the pose he required. I had warmed her up a bit with my tongue through those gauzy panties, so her moist tunnel gladly accepted the crystal cock we had acquired two years earlier at a very pricey Soho sex boutique.

“How’s that Mistress.”

“Mmmm….nice Slave.”

Her cunt clung to it very efficientl , allowing me to rise and retrieve my camera.

I snapped shots from a number of angles for him. Mistress does like to accommodate her remote Master. No doubt hoping the cumulative enticements and submissions will someday earn her a personal audience. And I like to be her nice little compliant slave in helping her with that goal.

Isn’t it nice when we all know our roles and play them well. Sort of like Ron Artest coming off the Lakers’ bench? OK, enough with the obscure sports metaphors.

Photos taken, I had another experiment to conduct, but figured Mistress would be better bound to the bed for this one. Some long strips torn from a weathered beach towel were good for tying her wrists together, and a leather cord attached them solidly to the top of our bed. She was going nowhere.

I played the crystal phallus in and out a bit, poking for her most responsive spots, while lapping her clit gently with the very tip of my tongue. Soon she was squirming nicely.

“Didn’t he suggest a combination of the crystal cock and the Hitachi, Mistress?”

“Ahhh….yes, I think so, Slave.”

I reached for it where it was parked for easy access under the bed, then switched on the little relentless tool he has been using to train her to be so dripingly responsive to his commands.

“We wouldn’t want to let both of you down.”

What followed was a slowly paced, accessorized assault on Mistress’s needy parts: as I pressed the tool against her with varying degrees of pressure while using another hand to tease and torment her channel with the phallus.

At some point I pulled it out all together and pressed it to Mistress’s lips, even as she squirmed against the Hitachi.

“taste it Mistress….you are delicious.”

She was. I had already sampled her.

“Mmmm…..God, it’s hot slave, feel it.”

Sure enough, the end of the little device was steaming hot.

Somehow Mistress was generating a whole lot of heat inside her desperate little cunt.

“Please don’t melt it, Mistress. That damn thing was expensive.”

It went back inside. It was sucked back inside, truth be told.

Slave was kind enough then to put Mistress out of her squirming misery, as she came in a fit of moans, lurching against her bonds, Confused about whether she should be begging me for permission to come, or demanding the right as my Mistress.

Ah the sublime confusion of a switch day well executed.

And before we abandoned the bed for a long bike ride, I was instructed to send those photos off to her Master.

He seemed pleased with her, but, as feared, she did not get the pose right.

Hopefully he will send an illustration next time.