Slave Blinks

It turns out Mistress is quite ticklish.

There she was bound spread eagled on our bed. Not quite stretched out enough though. Because when she began to squirm – as the tip of the feather ran across the sole of her foot, or along the inside of her strong arms – she was able to pull away just a it stretching the fabric of the long beach towel strips that bound her legs to the bed.

There was no manic laughing though. She was sensitive the the sullen wisdom toothless teen, stalking the hallways, a little buzzed on the percocet that the dentist had given her to help with the pain. No need to make her think her mother was in peril.

Just lots of squirming.

I fed her my cock, to give her a little break.

Fucked her a bit, reminding her that M’s recommendation for Sunday was that she be teased but not allowed to come until later in the day.

She made nice little moaning sounds as my Work-a-day cock slid effortlessly into her, her limbs stretched so wide.

Mistress does helpless well.

“I need to focus Slave, when I’m not allowed to come. It’s a whole different mindset.”

Yes, Mistress. Been there. And (not) Done that.

When it seemed I had taken that liberty as far as seemed fair and responsible to her, I slid out, and reached for the feather again.

It turns about that with a little extra sexual tension built up, Mistress is parituclarly sensitive when the tip of a feather is slowly dragged through that little crease in her folds.

Her hips jerked, she pulled at her leg bindings, making the bed literally graon along with her. Suddenly she was bucking for all she was worth.

“Did you just come, Mistress?”

It seemed like it to me….

“No, Slave…. That was just…. Well…. Frustrating.”

I was not so sure that she hadn’t snuck one in on me, But I took her at her word.

Then reached for the Hitachi.

“You’re not using that are you, Slave.”

The sweet indignation in her voice was amusing.

“Of course. That’s what M suggested. He wanted me to tease you with the feather that ‘Nilla suggested, then tease some more with the Hitachi. But not let you come…”

“He didn’t!”

“Oh yes…. Remember his text “I threw you under the bus today, Slave?” or something like that. You read it to me.”

Somehow Mistress had missed that part. For shame. The anticipation would have haunted her for a day or more.

The Hitachi was on low. Mistress’s inflamed little clit responded as you might expect.

It was the first time Mistress begged me to stop, trying her best to pull away and avoid it’s inevitable toll.

“You can’t do that anymore, Slave….. not if you expect me to not come.”

Was that a double or triple negative. I guess that’s what happens when the Hitachi combines with an orgasm quarantine.

She was so desperate and clever that she somehow got her legs to close, muscles straining better than any Nuatilus machine might require from her.

But I foxed her by sliding the Hitachi between her thighs from below, worming it back into place until it was pressed just so between those molten lips.

“Oh god, Slave…..can’t I please come .”

That’s when I broke. The thought of her waiting all day for it, while I was at the football game just seemed too much. I would have to hide the Hitachi. No doubt M would be in touch, importuning her to come for him.

Plus, at bottom (pun intended, ‘Nilla and Aisha) I am a softy. Mistress need was there to be filled, and it was harder (maybe) on me than on her not to fill it.

“OK, Mistress, I will consider your request …. But I want to hear begging….”

And, of course, she begged. There were “please, Slave, can I come’s” out the whazoo. Lots of whimpering. Much squirming as I let her sit on the brink for a minute or so.

I love that sound of desperation in Mistress’s voice.

Finally I relented.

“Yes, Mistress, you may come….”

With the caution flag down, Mistress wound herself up around the churning head of our power tool, her body taking the plunge as her hips rose off the bed.

I was glad I had the music on, to bury those choice and delicious sounds she made.

And I forced another, deeper one from her before mounting her again for my own reward – a process that I was in no mood to rush.

Afterwards, once Mistress was unbound, I wondered if our readers would be disappointed – particularly M.

AS it turns out, while Mistress made a brief trip to the grocery, he called to get an update.

“He wanted to know how Switch day went, Slave?”

“I’m sure he was curious about how his Slave handled all that “torture” Mistress. But was he disappointed that I let you come?”

“I don’t think he was surprised, Slave. I told him that he would probably have relented under the circumstances too.”

“And what did he say to that, Mistress?”

“He said, probably true if it was the first time we were together. Or had not seen each other in months. But not if he got to have sex with me every day!”

Sorry big guy. You had to be here!