Back to "Civilization"

 There were no middle of the night visits by Mistress to her slave's solo tent that Sunday night.  I was left to see their shadows in sexy motion inside the tent, until their electric lamp was extinguished.  Those shadows and the muffled sounds of passion that emerged from across our camp site led me to conclude that Scott effectively dealt with any pent up passions he might have  accrued as Mistress squirmed on his lap through her "punishment".  And knowing Mistress (and the sounds she makes in the throes) I was sure she enjoyed at least a few more cums as she relieved Scott of any pent up demand. 

The next morning, as I prepared our last coffees and breakfast on the trail, Mistress emerged sheepishly from her tent, undies restored and hands no longer bound. 

She gave me an affectionate kiss and gentle hug, but shared little more than "Hot night, Slave.....I'll share more details later...."

Scott was out of their tent shortly after, gratefully taking the coffee I handed him. "Your Mistress is a handful, Mick. You're a lucky man."

"Agreed". 

Soon we were all on task breaking camp -- rolling up sleeping bags and tents, and filling up our packs.  It was only 8:30 am or so, but the sun was already breaking over the rim. Mistress had gotten back into her hiking pants and boots. It was just about time to hit the trail. We were heading back up to the rim and our "real life". Scott was venturing solo further into the Canyon for a few more days. Time to say our farewells. 

Back packs on, Mistress and Scott exchanged a lingering hug and passionate kiss or two.  Tongue seemed to be engaged on both of their parts as their bodies melded together for a final time, his hands gripping her ass possessively. But if there was a morning "quickie" inside their tent before we broke camp, Slave may have slept through it. 

Obviously, I was anxious to hear Mistress's play-by-play once Scott took his own separate path down the trail. Before we parted, Scott gave me another of those firm handshakes, as his left hand gripped  my shoulder.

"Thanks for your hospitality, Mick", he said with another of those smirks.  I guessed he was still genuinely confused about how a husband could give free rein to his hot wife, and actually seem to enjoy it.  Understandable. 

"It was a fine time for all", is all I could muster.  

Then we parted, with Mistress and slave re-covering the 4.5 miles back up the Bright Angel Trail to the rim. Somehow we had worked our way back into shape over the last two days, so our uphill journey, despite the heavy packs, seemed less exhausting than our Saturday morning descent had been. 

During breaks for trail mix and water, and while walking side by side on the trail, we did a mutual debrief on our eventful weekend. 

"So what happened in that tent last night, Mistress?"

"Well you'll be happy to learn he kept my hands tied most of the night....I think he got off on being in charge.  He even figured away to stake me down to one of those tent poles for a while, 'torturing' me with his tongue and fingers. He was driving me crazy, making me beg to cum again."

"Awww, poor Mistress."

"Then there was some cock riding with me on top for a change. Got to say I'm a little tender down there."

"How long did this go on?"

"Hard to tell. We probably dozed off for a while after the first round.  And we talked some before another round."

"What did you talk about?"

"Hmmm.... he was interested in some things he read in the blog. Like your cock cage."

"Oh really? What about it?"

"He focused on references to 'the Boss', wanted to know who he was, and the bit about him taking the key to your cage the last time we saw him."

I remembered. Ouch. 

"What did you tell him?"

"That he's a guy we met via the blog years ago. That I used to have phone sex with him back in the day. and that we reconnected recently. I think Scott liked the concept of controlling your key and deciding when you and I can have sex."

"Yikes. He's into control?"

"Seems to get him going, Slave. In fact, he gave me a final order this morning, before we got up."

"Really....explain please."

"He says no regular sex until he gets out of the Canyon on Friday. Says it's only fair since he won't be having any.  He'll text me when he's out and 'free us' from his 'edict' if he deems it apropriate."

I was  stunned by this revelation. It had been almost three days now without any sexual relief.  Was Mistress serious?"

"Are we really going to follow this 'edict' Mistress? Got to admit all this has made me over the top horny for you.  I'm already thinking about where we'll stay tonight, and getting you into bed. I mean, are we ever going to see this dude again?"

"Awww . . . poor Slave. But you're the one who started us down this whole cuckold road.  Maybe it's time to take your medicine too, like I did last night.  And I DO think we'll see him again.  He was talking about visiting us in June. And maybe me coming to Austin over the summer."

Yikes.  I think Mistress was smitten. And with Scott relishing a role of domination and control this could have legs.

By the time we reached the rim, and off loaded out packs into the back of our Subaru, our feet and backs were feeling the effects of all those miles on the trail. We'd covered about 24 miles and a total of 9000 vertical feet.  Pretty good for oldsters. But at top of my mind was when I might be relieved of that building sexual tension. All that talk on the trail about cock cages, denial and Scott's budding relationship with Mistress had me semi-erect for what seemed like ages by now. 

By now it was past noon, we were headed east on the interstate towards to NM/AZ state line. I was making hotel reservations on my phone with Mistress behind the wheel. 

"So are we really abstaining tonite Mistress? I don't know if I can handle that."

"He just said no 'regular' sex, Slave.  I took that to mean no intercourse in the technical sense."

"So?"

"So I think we can solve your problem in other ways tonight."

Ahhh. Good to know I remained a pampered Slave after all.

Final Night In the Canyon

 Dinner completed, we were all  still a bit fatigued after our 14 mile trek down  and back from the depths of the Canyon. As I began stowing away our dinner gear  for the night, I speculated about Scott's plans for Mistress.  Would  he really explore Mistress's  bondage kink in their final night together? 

It didn't take long to find out.  As I washed our dinner plates and cups, Scott was digging into his back pack. He came back to the picnic table brandishing a length of belt like fabric webbing about 5 feet long.  Apparently he subscribed to that old Boy Scout motto: "Be Prepared". 

"This should do," he commented, looking at Mistress, who  remained seated at the table, still nursing her tea.  Her expression reflected equal parts uncertainty and curiosity with just a smidgeon of  anxiety.

"Hands," Scott directed.  

"Really? Here?" she asked looking around the camp site.  While the grounds were not as crowded as they had been Saturday night, there were still some other campers in the distance, maybe 50 yards or so away. 

"Oh, don't worry.  It's gotten dark and I won't be parading you around for all to see. We can certainly keep things private. At least for tonite."

A promise of a reunion?

Mistress glanced at me, still uncertain.  After all she could simply say "No".  Would she?

"Are we really doing this in front of the Slave?"

"Seems it's nothing he hasn't seen before, Mistress," that added with a slight touch of snark. "The only thing different from your 'switch days' is that I'll be the one in charge tonight. I'm sure Mick doesn't mind. Do you Mick?"

At this point, my own  level of arousal was on the rise at the thought of witnessing Scott take charge of my Mistress. 

"No. . . Sir. Who am I to object?"

"Exactly," he responded with a bit of a smirk.  Mistress shot a dirty look at me, as if she expected me to be the Night in Shining Armor, coming to her defense.  But I knew her well enough to judge her an enthusiastic participant in whatever mischief was to come.  She was already squirming with anticipation as she made a show of finishing her tea.

"Hands," Scott repeated again a bit more forcefully, holding up the belt.

Mistress slowly stood in front of him, finally extending her wrists in front of her. Apparently her answer would not be "No."

Scott just shook his head, signaling with a twrling finger that Mistress should turn her back to him.  He wasn't fooling around.

She hesitated, then complied. Slowly spinning around, glancing at me. By now it was almost dark, so it was hard to see her blush of arousal. But I could almost hear her racing heart beat. 

Scott gathered her hands behind her, crossed her wrists, then wound the fabric strap round them, first vertically, then horizontally, tying it off with a knot that tightened all of the strands in a way that produced a slight gasp and shudder from Mistress.  

"Too tight?"

Mistress just shook her head, indicating a "no."

She was twisting her wrists, testing her bonds. They held tight.

"Haven't done this in a while", Scott remarked to me.  "What do you think, Mick, does it look like that will hold?"

"Seems a good job," was all I could muster, still in a bit of erotic shock seeing my wife so efficiently brought under such swift control by another man.

"Now it's your turn to help, slave. I'd like you to get down there, take off her hiking boots, and pull down her jeans.  Around the ankles will do for now."

Mistress just looked at both of us with that "really?" look again. But her unsuccessful struggles with her bindings left her knowing her opportunity to resist had passed.

I knelt at her feet, a familiar place for me, and began unlacing her boots.  She co-operated to the extent of sitting back down in the picnic table bench, lifting each foot as I worked off those boots.  Her thick hiking sox remained to keep her toes toasty as the temperature dropped.

"I can't believe you're doing this to me, Slave?"

"Just following orders, Mistress", giving us both a quiet laugh.

Next I unbuttoned her jeans, and she lifted her butt slightly, aiding my effort to pull them down over her firm thighs and long legs to her ankles. Apparently she had decided either that "resistance was futile" or she really did not want to resist.  I was guessing the latter. 

So there she was, hands bound behind her, jeans at her ankles further restricting her movement, her lacy forest green panties for all to see.  A fleece jacket and T shirt covered her breasts and tummy. 

"Is she turned on, Mick?"

To verify, I leaned in, nuzzling into the soft fabric of those green panties. It was hard not to miss the intoxicating aroma of Mistress in full bloom, or to feel the damp fabric with the tip of my tongue.

"Verified, Sir."

Mistress just squirmed on that bench, moaning softly from my tongue's gentle ministrations, confirming my diagnosis.

Scott leaned over, helped Mistress to her jeans hobbled feet, then sat in her place.  

"Over my lap, Mistress."

Mistress just shook her head, sensing where this was going. But Scott's strong arms soon had her by the arm, gently but firmly pulling her down with her firm bottom settled over his lap, her head dangling down, face obscured by her long dark hair. He fondled that bottom gently.

"Like the undies. Soft and sexy.  But for what I have in mind, they're in the way. Mick, how about pulling them down to her knees?"

I looked at Mistress, who shook her head, giving me that dagger tossing glare.  But she failed to order me to disregard Scott's command.  Despite her sudden vulnerability, Mistress was going with the flow, seemingly prepared to "face the music". 

I squatted down, gently took those green panties in two hands and slipped them down over her hips and  around her knees. 

"Thanks Mick. Why don't you stand over by there, indicating the end of the picnic table, where I might block the view of any of our fellow campers who might  wander by or campsite.

As Scott resumed his gentle rubbing of Mistress's exposed ass, Scott continued. "Now Molly, keep in mind  that there are other campers not far off.  Let's not make them think anything improper is going on over here. Can you keep your voice low through this ordeal, or is a gag in order."

Mistress responded in a surprisingly submissive voice. 

"I'll do my best, Sir."

"OK, let me know if you change your mind."

With that Scott used his left hand to hold Mistress's bound wrists, securing her to his lap, while his right palm began to rain a a slow but steady assault on Mistress's squirming bottom.    Started with seemingly gentle slaps, that produced squirms and giggles from his 'Victim", he slowly built up  to a firmer rhythm that had Mistress jerking, then moaning in response. Mistress was doing her best to "take her medicine", but I could tell her bottom was getting red and the pain was becoming real.  Scott must have sensed it too, because his pace slowed, then stopped. 

"I like the way you squirm," Scott told her.  I was guessing Mistress was taking some satisfaction in sensing a  hardening cock under her pelvis.

Now Scott's hand was between her thighs, sliding to her sex, fingers probing. This seemed to get Mistress's hips gyrating even more, rising up to meet her hand.  Her faux struggles to  resist Scott's gentle caress were, of course, fruitless, as he held her firmly in place on her lap.

By now it was dark, so I couldn't see what surely were glistening  juices on Scott's fingers as he held them up for me to see. 

"I think you're right Mick.  This bondage and corporal punishment thing seems to light your Mistress's fire."

Back on task, Scott spent some time with a sweet and sour approach to Mistress. Firm spanks followed by gentle but insistent fondling of those damp, clean shaven folds.  

Of course, the outcome was inevitable: Mistress ultimately exploded into a throbbing, gyrating cum that left her breathless. Hopefully our neighboring campers were not listening too closely, or were otherwise inspired by her wanton performance.

"Oh, God" was about all she could muster. She was both shaken and stirred by Scott's "punishment," her hair a disheveled mess, breath still a bit ragged from her "ordeal."

Scott helped her off the lap, and asked me to relieve Mistress of her jeans and panties. I was happy to comply, and then helped her stand, with her resting her shoulder against my shoulder for support.  Weak knee-ed  was a good description of her state. 

"Hands?" she whispered, clearly hoping for release. I looked to Scott for direction. 

"OK, but redo them in front.  We have more business to take care of in that tent."

I followed orders again, loosening Mistress from her bonds.  She rubbed her wrists briefly, but submissively co-operated as I retied her wrists, palm to palm in front. 

"Thanks, Mick.  I think I can take her from here. "

Scott took Mistress under a strong arm,  gently helping her into her tent, no doubt ready to take his "Switch Day" prize.

Mistress's good night to me included "Remember, Slave....no touching." The tone of her voice suggested that there might be a price for me to pay for my "complicity" in the night's activities.  

To Be Continued....

Down to the River

 Slave slept fitfully the rest of Saturday night / Sunday morning, haunted and horny in equal parts contemplating the proceedings in an adjoining tent.  That plus Scott's foam sleeping pad wasn't nearly as comfy as the inflated number that he and Mistress were sharing. 

As dawn broke over Havasupai Gardens, I was up snd getting our breakfast provisions together. Mistress emerged briefly, on her way to the surprisingly clean facilities at the camp ground. On her way back she gave me a brief big and kiss.  

"He's got some 'morning wood' for me to take care of Slave... this could take a little while....."

The morning coffee service was delayed as I waited patiently for the commotion in their tent to die down. It was hard to ignore the rustling and Mistress's barely stifled moans and labored breathing as she clearly enjoyed that "wood".  Finally, when things settled down again, I mustered the courage to interfere.

"Are you too ready for coffee?"

"Go for it, slave."  

That was Scott, earning a "Yes, Sir....."

Water boiled, I mixed their brews (Mistress gets decaf) and handed them through the flap of their tent. What I was able to see were two barely covered bodies, reclining in post coital bliss. It seemed Scott's meaty paw was still lingering amidst Mistress's damp, clean shaven folds. 

I was also pleased to see that our new inflatable sleeping pad survived the onslaught. 

"Thanks, Slave....", Mistress and Scott responded in near unison. 

 I suspect the two new lovers were tempted to linger longer, maybe for a round 3, in their toasty tent, but the trail called. Soon they emerged, Mistress in shorts for the trail, but with a warm jacket to handle the morning chill.  I boiled more water for additional coffee and then some oatmeal. When Scott headed off to the facilities, Mistress shared a little more about her night....and morning.

"I'm going to be a little tender down there today, Slave.....Scott was pretty ravenous last night. And again this morning....."

" Awww.....Poor Mistress...."

"I guess there is a price to pay for my 'free pass after all'".

"More cock riding?"

"That....and him from behind for a while this morning....."

By then Scott was back. We stowed the food again, and loaded light packs with some water and snacks for the trail. 

Scott led the way down the trail. Within an hour as we walked deeper into the Canyon and the sun rose over the rim, temperatures rose and we shed layers. Mistress was fetching in her shorts and clingy top, drawing admiring gazes from both Scott and her slave.  All that sex seemed to add a little more sway to her stride.  

Dramatic vistas unveiled before us.  Within about 2.5 hours we finally found ourselves on the banks of the Colorado River.  Instead of the winter like conditions on the rim, it was Spring down here.

It took us another two hours to walk east along the River to Phantom Ranch, a rustic collection of cabins and lodges where hikers who win the lottery can actually spend the night sans tent. We stopped at their canteen for some lemonade and snacks before turning around and heading back up the trail. In contrast to the snow and ice encrusted rim, the Canyon's base was all cactus and blooming cottonwoods. 

Through the day, the trail had been busy. Some younger, fitter hikers were determined to make the rim to river and back again marathon all in one day.  Others had spent the night at Phantom Ranch and were on their  return trek. Some were cruising, others struggling. We could take a more leisurely pace over our 14 mile round trip, finally returning to camp around 5 pm.  And while there were a few scattered PDAs between Scott and Mistress along the trail, all of us were primarily focused on the journey. It wasn't until we settled down at the picnic table at our campgrounds that  conversation refocused on kink.

Slave had whipped up some more freeze dried meals - some sort of chicken stew concoction - not so bad. We all sipped some tea, resting our fatigued legs.  Then Scott launched into a new topic.

"So in scanning your blog on Friday night, I noticed something about 'switch day'?

"Yeah.  We put that in the contract to create a little 'balance of power'," I responded, wearing my lawyerly hat. 

"And there were some photos of Molly bound, and with a riding crop?"

"Mick liked to post photos like that.... they always seemed to get a rise out of our readers...", Mistress added. 

"And how did you respond to that, mistress? Getting bound and cropped isn't very Mistressy."

"Hmmm..... it was hot. Before this whole Mistress and slave thing, Mick was more into that sort of thing, and I must say it was a turn on for me."

"She once told me there was a college boyfriend who liked to tie her up and fuck her."

"Slave.....!" 

Apparently I was sharing a little too much.

"Is that true?"

"Yes....it was my first intro to that sort of thing.  And it was pretty exotic for college sex."

"Interesting.....maybe we explore a little of that tonight before we head in different directions tomorrow morning "

To be continued..... 

Mistress Shares A Tent With Her Lover

 It was only about 8 pm, but the sun was down, temperatures were dropping fast, and we had a long day on the trail ahead of us. Did that explain why Mistress and Scott retired to their shared tent so early? Or were they both all too anxious to consummate their budding connection?

I was guessing the latter as I finished "the dishes", stowed away our food stuffs in a varmint proof container provided by the Park Service, hit the facilities and then slid into my lonely one-person tent.  

Their shared tent was about 20 yards away. At first it was internally illuminated by an electric lamp.  I could see forms moving about inside, including bodies smushing together and layers being removed. But soon the light was out, their tent bathed only in moonlight. 

Of course, Slave's mind was roaming directly into the gutter by now. Speculating about how quickly Scott was rounding the bases and heading for home with my sweet and sexy Mistress. 

And yet... despite the temptation, I heeded Mistress's invocation to forego any "self-abuse".  I knew Mistress enough to realize there would ultimately be a generous reward for my deferred satisfaction. I tried to distract myself by reading a novel on my Kindle. At some point I must have drifted off, only to be awoken by a whisper outside my tent.

"Slave....are you awake in there?"

"I am now, Mistress...what's up?"

"Well....it's about 11, we're going to sleep now, but Scott said I could 'tuck you in' on my way to the facilities."

"It's nice he gave you permission, Mistress," said with just a little snark. 

"He is getting a bit more .....assertive."

"And you like that, don't you?"

By now I had slid from my toasty sleeping bag and zipped open the tent flap.  Mistress was standing outside the tent, wearing a fleece jacket, thick hiking socks and....apparently nothing else. 

"It's kind of hot, slave....He's definitely enjoying taking increasing charge on this little adventure."

"And did that happen inside the tent."

"Ohhh Definitely. And Scott says ' why not give the slave a taste' if he wants."

Of course I wanted.....

Out on the firm ground now, on my knees before Mistress, it was hard not to catch a whiff of her arousal, mixed with the scent of her new lover. Hot.....

"So he fucked you Mistress?"

"More than once, Slave....."

"How'd that new sleeping mat work?"

"Not bad slave....we gave it a work-out for sure. It's cozy in there, and got pretty warm once things got going...."

"Details?"

"Not time for all that now, slave....it's getting late and he's expecting me back soon. Let's just say I rode his cock to more than a  few cums.  He's got quite a bit of stamina and, well, I'm pretty tender from that big cock ."

She spread her legs.  "So, do you want a taste, or not?"

"Of course, Mistress."

Slave shook off the slumbers and went to work, probing gently at first with my tongue.  The mix of salty residues from Mistress's clean shaven folds - a spicy combo of her own juices and Scott's remnants - got my own juices flowing.  But as I picked up the pace, pushing Mistress toward another cum, she backed off a bit.  

"Enough slave....you got your taste...but Scott says all my orgasms belong to him for the next 48 hours. And that you're cut off until we get back to civilization on Monday."

"Oh.... he really is is taking charge isn't he, Mistress."

"Ummm....yes. And I think you and I both like that, don't we?"

She had my number. And he seemed to have hers.

"Time to go back to sleep, Slave.....Big day tomorrow.  By the way, Scott says to tell you he likes his morning coffee black...."

This flashed me back to our days back in River City, when Mistress had occasional sleep overs with her lovers, and I served them coffee in bed in the morning.

"I'll be on top of it Mistress...."

"And I'll be on top of him....", she responded, dreamily.

She was already contemplating wake-up sex before, or after my coffee service?

She gave me a tender kiss good night, and headed off in the direction of the campground restrooms. I slid back into my tent and sleeping bag, still semi-aroused from my chance to graze betwixt Mistress's legs. And yet I made sure to keep hands off, as Mistress had enjoined. It was still late Saturday night, and I  considered how far the two new lovers had come since we met Scott  on Friday afternoon. I had to wonder what came next.

To Be Continued...

Cuckolded at the Campground

 After our frank conversation with Scott (who says he now prefers me to address him as "Sir"), Mistress excused herself to their tent to "change into something more comfortable". In her absence, Scott got even more frank with me.....

"So Mick, or 'Slave', as your wife  calls you.... you really are OK with me having my way with her?"

"Believe it or not, yes."

"You're not going to go all postal on me if we make love in that tent over there....or if she gives me the blow job she promises is in my future?"

So that's what they've been whispering about?

"She has her freedom on that front....just be gentle...unless she indicates she's looking for something more, say, forceful"

"Don't worry Slave.....I think we have an understanding about what's in or out of her limits, and while I might push them a tad, she's really the one in charge...."

"Good to know....Sir....."

Just about then Mistress emerged from their tent, hiking pants gone, wearing one of those simple Eddie Bauer travel dresses she prefers for our road trips , in a deep green, a dress that stopped at mid thigh.  Simple, but displaying those strong shapely legs to their advantage.  Of course, she still had on those sturdy hiking boots.  

"Guess I should have packed some camp shoes?", She asked us.

"Oh those will do .... ", Scott said, eyeing her admiringly. "Maybe you and I should go for a little walk while 'slave' here is getting our dinners together."

He led Mistress off in the direction of a vista point north of our campsite, arm possessively around her waist, murmuring something into her ear that produced a nervous laugh, and an exaggerated sway of her hips.

Hmmm......was there a trail quickie in their near future?

While they strolled off, I busied myself getting our little camp stove set up, and assembled the variety of freeze dried meals we had packed for our trip.  About 40 minutes later Mistress and Scott were back, guilty grins on their faces.  Mistress's hair seemed considerably more disheveled than when they had departed. 

She excused herself to the nearby campground "facilities" to "feshen up". 

Scott say down at our picnic table as I fiddled with dinner prep. 

"Does she always walk off with other men without undies, Slave?" 

"It's been known to happen...uhhh....Sir."

"I do appreciate a woman who's clean shaven.  Always tastes so much better that way....and I must say your wife is very tasty.....could get addictive."

Why was this simple conversation making my cock surge?  The pathetic plight of a cuckold I suppose.

"Chalk me up as an addict . . . Sir."

"Understood. And she has such lovely soft lips  too.....can't say I've had such a satisfying blow job in a very long time...."

Yikes.  I  hoped Mistress would share all the naughty details when (or if) we got some private time.

Mistress ambled back to the camp site, still glowing from what I surmised was an al fresco cum, or two. 

As the sun was beginning to sink over the Canyon's rim, the wind was picking up. Slave got the water boiling, pouring it into the foil packets that would reconstitute into our dinner meals.  There was more water boiled for instant coffee and tea to wash dinner down.  All of us added an extra layer to beat back the chill. 

We chatted over our meal about plans for the morning - a hike down to the bottom of the Canyon - hopefully all the way to Phantom Ranch.  It was an ambitious agenda - maybe 14 mile down and back to our camp site.  But Mistress and slave were determined to make it down to the River on this trip, and Scott, who had done it before, was game to lead the way. 

As dusk settled onto our campgrounds, Scott slid off to the facilities and Mistress and Slave had a little heart-to-heart.  

"So things got hot on your little walk, Mistress?"

"What do you think, Slave?"

"Well based on what Scott mentioned, seems he enjoyed your clean shaven folds and the attention of your lovely lips."

"Oh he spilled the beans, huh?"

"I think it was taunting."

"Only because it turns you on."

Sad, but true.

We could see Scott  headed back our way. Our private time was running out.

"So you got to handle his cock, Mistress?", I whispered.

"I did, Slave."

"And?"

"Impressive. Not quite as big as that guy from the Forest Service.  But....impressive."

"I have a feeling you may become more familiar with it tonight?"

"Seems inevitable. But remember.....no touching no matter how inspired you are by these developments. Without the cage, I guess you're on the honor system.  Can you do that?"

"Yes, Mistress."

She gave me a little kiss. 

Scott was back now, sidling up to Mistress on the picnic table bench. Arm around her again. He helped himself to a kiss of his own, but this one ended up with tongue and wandering hands, laying it on a little thick for my benefit, no doubt. PDA's are just part of the cuckolder playbook I suppose.

Ultimately, they came up for air. "It's getting cold now that the sun's down. And we have a long day on the trail tomorrow.  Maybe it's time to snuggle into our sleeping bags?"

It wasn't so much as a question from Scott as a directive.....

"We don't have a handy 'do not disturb' sign for our tent, Slave", Scott smiled my way.  "But I think that's the ground rule for tonight.  Am I right, Mistress?"

"I think Mick understands that he's to behave himself in his tent tonight", raising an eyebrows in my direction. We both knew what that meant. 

"What a shame you forgot that cage.  I'd love to get a peak."

Then they said their good nights. 

I finished stowing away our food and eating supplies as Mistress and her new lover  zipped their tent flap closed.

It could be a lonely night. At least I had a warm down sleeping back to beat back the chill. 

To Be Continued.

Down in the Canyon

 Through the last 1.5 miles down to Havasupai Gardens, Slave led the way down the trail.  Scott and Mistress lingered back a bit,  talking to themselves, no doubt exploring what Scott had said about two "interesting nights" ahead of us. It was a tad intimidating that Scott already had a peak "behind the curtain" of our particular kinks. Example: Most of Mistress's past lovers had never actually read our blog, didn't know about things like the cage, our contract, or the occasional pegging that happens in our marital bed.

Finally there, nursing sore feet and shoulders, we selected two adjoining campsites in a quiet corner, set against a hillside at the boundary of the campgrounds.  Scott was already in "take charge" mode.

We were seated around a wooden picnic table at our site, back packs off and sitting nearby, sitting water and snacking on more trail mix.

"Before we set things up here, let's make sure we understand ourselves, OK?"

This seems directed at me.  My sense was Mistress knew where this was headed.

"Molly.... I take it you enjoyed our 'activities' last night. Are you willing to explore further?"

She didn't hesitate.

"Absolutely....."

"Mick, as I understand your 'contract' with Molly, you have no objection to whatever she and I might get up to over the next two nights?"

"As long as she is comfortable with it, then sure.  It's her call."

"In fact, all this is actually a turn on for you?"

"True...."

"OK then.... here's how this is going to work.  Molly and I will take this campground here", pointing to the most private location near a looming cottonwood tree. "We'll take your two person tent....you can have that site over there and my one person tent. Sounds good?"

Gulp.  This was actually happening.

Mistress simply nodded with what seemed to me to be a slight blush, no doubt contemplating her upcoming time with Scott in that tent.

"Fine by me", I said, with a surge of arousal at the thought of this take charge guy taking charge of our sleeping arrangements on the trail.

At that we set to work setting up camp.  Mistress has far more backpacking experience than me.... one of her many competencies beyond looking hot that we probably don't focus on enough in this blog. She confidently constructed our long dormant tent once I detached it from my pack.  Scott focused on setting up his own tent - the one I would occupy - under a shelter about 15 yards away.  

Tents constructed, packs were unloaded. It was hard not to take note of Mistress and Scott unfurling their sleeping bags and unpacking some of their clothes inside their temporary habitat. For a while they both were inside the tent as Slave set up in his more modest accommodation. It was hard not to take note of some giggling and murmuring emerging from their tent, or wonder whether the intimacies betwixt them had already started.

As set-up was nearly complete, Mistress had a logical request. 

"Slave, you know that two person sleeping mat you bought.....it seems best if we use that in our tent, don't you think.....you can use Scott's single mat."

"Of course, Mistress...."

 Scott was hovering nearby. It was hard not to notice his slight smirk as he heard our "Slave / Mistress" terminology live for the first time.  Seemed our roles were getting fixed for the night.

"So he's the 'slave' and you're the 'Mistress', what's that make me?"

"What do you want to be?", Molly responded, a glint of mischief in her eye. He slid next to her, a possessive arm around her waist.  They were standing, looming over me as I knelt next to my pack, pulling out our (now their) two person inflatable sleeping pad. 

"Master seems a little heavy handed.  Plain old Scott, maybe a little too informal under these circumstances. I guess "Sir" will do, don't you think.....?"

"That sounds reasonable, don't you think Slave?"

Another gulp. 

Yes, Sir."

Yes, this was going to be an interesting two nights.

To Be continued......

On the Trail With Molly, Mick and Scott

Despite Mistress's late night, we were up early the next morning in our Cabin, a little anxious about hitting the trail. It was still misting on the rim, with a thick shroud of clouds overhanging the Canyon and obstructing the iconic view.

But first things first.  

Wake Up Sex! 

A UCTMW ritual for time immemorial (or at least since about 1991). Our morning session was fueled by a running dialog that allowed Slave to "interrogate" Mistress about her smolderingly hot encounter with Scott  in his El Tovar Hotel suite. Al the while I used my tongue, hands and ultimately my "work-a-day" cock to bring Mistress to a couple of top-of-the-morning cums. Examples:

"Did he lick you Mistress?"

"No Slave, we were taking it slow".

"Did you slide out of those lacy black undies?"

"No Slave....it was more an intense make out session...but I do think his fingers worked their way underneath...."

"Is that how he made you come, Mistress?"

"Yes....and also me rubbing against his leg.... it all got pretty steamy.  Does that turn you on, Slave?"

"What do you think, Mistress?'

By this time, Mistress and slave were in their own sexual frenzy, and soon slave was asking for and granted permission to cum. Little did I know that this would be the last such opportunity until we emerged from the Canyon.  But let's not get ahead of ourselves!

After the sexual dust settled, we packed our suitcases, made some final checks of our packs, and grabbed an early breakfast at the Lodge dining room.  It wasn't long until 10 am, and our meet up with Scott at the nearby trailhead. 

There he was - full back pack on a bench behind him.  He had the look of a guy who had done this often, one of those 2 day beards on his well tanned face. (Who's that tanned in the early March?) Hiking pants, fleece, an open rain jacket to shed the drizzle that seemed finally to be dissipating . He gave me a friendly pat on the back, and Mistress one of those lingering hugs.  Soon we were working those shiny cleats onto our hiking boots, lofting our packs and hitting the trail.  Mistress seemed to enjoy Scott's attention as he applied his superior backcountry expertise to adjusting the straps on her heavy pack to level her load.

The first mile and a half of the trail was snow and ice clogged, making for slow and slippery going, even with the spikes helping our footing.  But as we descended into the Canyon toward our objective - the Havasupai Campground - temperatures rose, the rain abated and the trail turned to mud and clay.  We stopped for a rest at the "3 Mile House", a rustic stone building with dramatic views of the Canyon. 

Though the trail was busy, we found ourselves sitting alone in the shelter, sharing some trail mix and guzzling water to hydrate for the remaining 1.5 miles down to our destination.  It was our first opportunity for the "conversation".

"So Mick....." Scott leveled a gaze at me.  "Molly told me about your blog....and I spent some time with it late last night and over breakfast this AM. . . . did all that stuff really happen?"

Gulp.  I looked at Mistress. "Pretty much.  Some embellishment from time to time I suppose.  But its pretty truthy...it's been kind of fun and we've encountered some interesting folks because of the blog over the years."

"And the 'Contract'..... that's real?"

"Yep. the contract actually came before the blog."

He turned to Mistress.

"The cage.  You actually make him wear one?"

"I do....but not so much lately.  I guess I'm not much of a 'Mistress' these days."

"So no cage with you on this trip?"

"Nope", I responded. Why was this conversation making my cock surge in my hiking pants?

Back to Molly.  "I saw something in there about how you've been shopping for a more dominant lover? Ever find one who filled the bill?"

"Every now and then there's been a prospect, but it usually fizzles out for one reason or another.  A unicorn I suppose. And now, in our small New Mexico town....well pickings are thin, and everyone knows everyone.  Could be embarrassing."

Back to me.

"And it actually turns you on when your wife messes around ... fucks....another guy?"

"I suppose it sounds strange, but it's true.  She has a "hall pass" and it builds the sexual energy between us just to contemplate her using it....."

"Lucky girl...." 

Back to Molly.

"Did you tell him about what we did last night in my suite?"

"I did."

"Mmmmm..... and you had sex with him this morning while thinking and talking  about me?"

"We sure did......"

"I spent a little more time this morning checking out some of the links on your blog. and other sources. Sounds like I'm cast in the "Bull" role here?"

I nodded. I think by now both Mistress and I were squirming a bit.  Turned on simply by where this conversation was headed.

"Well then these next two nights on the trail could be pretty interesting, don't you think?"

TO BE CONTINUED.....

Molly's Late Night at the El Tovar

 

As Mistress and Scott walked up those stairs at the El Tovar,  Slave wandered back into the cold, damp night, following the icy side walk along the Canyon's rim. Back in our Cabin at the Bright Angel Lodge, the  room was cluttered with back packs, luggage, and outerwear, a  staging area for our trek the next morning  into the 4500 foot deep Canyon. 

Of course, my mind was buzzing about what Mistress might be up to back at the El Tovar, enjoying her "nightcap" as she checked out her new friend Scott's room. It didn't help when I got a text,  no doubt sent surreptitiously - maybe as she 'freshened up" in Scott's bathroom.

"No touching, slave!"

Now typically, she would not have to remind me.  When she went on prior "dates" Slave was caged and she kept (or hid) the key.  But this time the cage was back home.  (Much to the "Boss's disappointment). She clearly had not planned ahead for any cuckolding opportunities during this road trip.

"Yes Mistress".

After fiddling with my pack a little (needed to make sure the 'traction devices' were close at hand), I figured I might as well get some sleep while Mistress had her private  time with the hunky, younger Scott. But it wasn't easy to clear my mind of pervy speculation about what she might be up to, or to follow that "no touch" directive...but I must have drifted off, woken only by the sound of low volume conversation outside the cabin door. Mistress's voice. Sounding a bit flirtatious.  Scott, deep voiced and serious. Then some silence ... (were they kissing?),  before some apparent "good nights....see you tomorrows".  Then the electronic lock clicked, the door swung open and Mistress slid into the room, pressing the door closed behind her. 

Wide awake now, I sat up....

"So?"

"I bet you're dying of curiosity, Slave."

It's hard to be subtle at moments like these.  

"So what happened Mistress....was there any hanky panky? Did you let him fuck you?"

"Yes. And No. Let me get ready for bed and I'll share some details with my curious cuckold."

Mistress's night time rituals can drag on, but by now it was about midnight, and Mistress knew she needed some sleep. Finally, she slid into bed  next to me, decked out in a silky black nighty. 

"I'm sleepy, slave...."

"But...."

"OK...." She was teasing big time now."I'll share some highlights.... First, very nice Suite, with an amazing view-- if it wasn't dark and cloudy that is.  Big four poster bed....nice little love seat for enjoying a night cap. Lighting was low. All potentially very romantic."

"So did you make your move, Mistress? Or did he?"

"Let's just say we relaxed on that loveseat. I had a Sambucca. He had a single malt - neat of course."

"I'm really not that focused on your beverage selection Mistress....but on that hanky panky...."

By now I was nestled up against Mistress, who had shed her undies, her bottom pressed up against her increasingly agitated "work-a-day" cock.

"I can tell what your nasty little mind is focused on.  But you should know that Scott is a gentleman. One of the first things he said, after our drinks arrived, was about you."

"What?"

"He wondered why any husband would allow his very attractive wife to go unescorted to another man's hotel room...."

Of course, a good question.

"So what did you tell him...."

"I asked him if he ever heard that some husbands were turned on at the thought of their wife  getting involved with other men.... that you were one of those guys, and that as a result I had a "free pass" if I came across someone I found attractive."

"And he said...."

"Wow."

"That was it?"

"Well the conversation then turned to whether I considered him to be one of those guys I found attractive....I responded that he certainly had potential, but the jury was still out."

"So you gave him a sort of green light".

"I suppose I did.  But I think  we were sending mutual vibes all through dinner. Didn't you?"

"Hard not to notice, Mistress."

So then he asked  about our experiences doing this sort of thing. I gave him a few details, and even told him about the Blog.  He took note of the title, so maybe he'll do more research before we meet up in the morning."

"Yikes. a lot of content there, Mistress, about both of us....But cut to the chase....what happened?

"Well after we talked through all that, he seemed to get the concept. 'So your husband gets turned on when you get frisky with another guy and tell him about it afterwards? And he's not going to be pissed off or get crazy if we...you know...."

"No, in fact it'll drive him crazy with lust for me. For a wife with a husband like that it can be a 'Win/Win'. I get to flirt .... or maybe more... with an attractive guy and he showers me with sexual attention when I share the smutty details."

"So if we don't do something here, right now, we'll really be letting him down?"

"Absolutely. He'd be soooo disapointed."

"By now my hand was lingering on one of his muscular thighs, Slave...and well, It was about then that the kissing began ....I really can't remember who leaned in first. And then we both got a little handsy...he's a good kisser....and knows what to do with his hands. Ultimately we ended up stretched out on  that big four poster bed....a long sexy make out session.  And though I was tempted, and he clearly would have....we left it at that for the night. No fucking.  I must have made it clear that was not a 'first date' thing for me. And he was a gentleman about it, walking me home when I mentioned it was getting late and I needed my sleep."

"Did he make you cum, Mistress...."

"Yes, Slave.... with his fingers...."

"And did you.....?"

"No Slave.....but I think I left him wanting more.... there will be two nights with the three of us down at Havasupai Gardens. Could get spicey, huh?"

By now Slave was pretty darned horny himself. But Mistress left me wanting more that night, too. 

"Slave, it's late now, she said, giving her cock a little affectionate pat, but nothing more. "We need some sleep.  That's  just going to have to wait until morning.  Scott and I agreed we'd all meet at 10 am at the trail head.  The rain is supposed to stop by then."

And that's where we'll stop for today's installment.  More to come.

Dinner on the Rim

 Now where were we......

Backcountry camping permits in hand, Mistress, her Slave/Cuckold and Scott, her new "friend", headed back into the rain to our respective cars. Mistress noted we were staying the night at a cabin on the rim, part of the Bright Angel Lodge complex.

"I'm over at the El Tovar", Scott noted as he clicked the remote lock on a hunter green Range Rover with Texas plates, parked near our Subaru.  Mistress jumped on that. 

"Wow.  Beautiful place. Don't we have dinner reservations there tonight, Mick?"

I sensed where this was going.

"That's right.  7:45."

"I was planning dinner there too", Scott responded. 

Of course he was. 

"Why don't you join us.  I'm sure Mick can add one more to our reservation....."

I glanced at Mistress, noting the twinkle back in her eye. So much for our 'romantic' dinner for two before hitting the trail.  But clearly Mistress had something  more  in mind. Something that might simply titillate, or lead to something more.

"I'll take care of it....."

Dinner plans confirmed, we checked into our cabin, which was soon cluttered with all the detriitus of a multi-night camping trip: tent, sleeping bags and pad, food, snacks, water bottles, stove, outerwear, etc. As we got organized and loaded up our now heavy packs, the conversation drifted to dinner.

"So this Scott guy....he seems to have caught your eye Mistress. And if I wasn't mistaken he was eyeing you too."

"Oh Slave....you're getting ahead of ourselves again.  He seems like a nice guy, and his 'expertise' in the Canyon is bound to help, right?"

"I'm guessing that's not the only expertise you're wondering about Mistress."

She just gave me a look that combined both reproach and a hint of her open mind  about where things might lead with Scott.

 Mistress was primping for dinner. By now the sun was down, but the skies were still spitting a cold drizzle. Yet despite the cold and damp, she was  doing her best to make an impression.  Full make up. Blow drying her hair after a warm shower. And wearing a black dress she had brought for my conference. Coupled with some colorful Cowboy Boots, her outfit highlighted her fit and shapely legs.

I raised an eyebrow.

"A little overdressed for a walk in the cold and dark, Mistress?"

"It's a nice restaurant Slave.  I just want to look good for you....."

"I'm thinking it might not just be for me."

She just gave me that teasing look again. 

The El Tovar is a rambling, turn of the Century architectural masterpiece overlooking the vast Canyon. We found Scott waiting for us in the Lobby, dressed pretty much as before. Jeans, hiking boots, a blue denim shirt and leather jacket.  If he had shaved his half day beard, I sure couldn't tell.  I got the firm hand shake. Mistress went in for an enthusiastic hug, which, I suspected, lingered just a little longer than might be expected for a guy she'd met just that afternoon.

Over adult beverages and then an indulgent pre-hike dinner, we shared family and professional details. Scott was divorced, with two kids in College. He was a founder of one of those Austin, TX tech start-ups, with some funny stories about Matthew McConaughey in a drunken rage at some music bar during SXSW. At some point Slave began feeling like a third wheel, as Mistress and Scott went on about life and (remarkably) some shared acquaintances from her corporate career days.  Was there growing sexual tension in the air?  Hard to tell. But the Cuckold in me was saying "one can only hope".

As our dinner plates were cleared and desert orders taken, I excused myself for a trip to the Men's. I took the chance of texting Mistress for some clarity....."Where is this headed, Mistress?"

On my way back through the Hotel Lobby, I heard a ping from my I-phone. Mistress must have discretely read my text, no doubt explaining to Scott it came from a friend or family. 

"You're looking sleepy, Slave. Long day tomorrow.  Maybe you should head back to our cabin early?"

Oh...Kay.....

Over a scrumptious and filling dessert.....apple crisp with ice cream for me and Scott....flourless chocolate cake for Mistress, she made her "stick your neck out" move.....

"This is such a beautiful hotel".

(It is. Dark wood, blazing fireplaces, stuffed moose and elk heads, broad picture windows overlooking the now darkened canyon.)

"I've always wondered what the rooms are like...."

"Happy to show you mine", Scott said. (Really? Let's not be too subtle, Scott!) 

"Maybe we can get room service to bring up some night-caps?"

This apparently was my cue.

"I'm feeling a little tired myself.  But you two should go ahead.   I'm just worried about you walking back in the ice and snow in those boots....those sidewalks are pretty dark. and slippery"

"No worries, Mick.  I'd be happy to make sure she's back safe and sound....", Scott reassured, acting the noble gent. 

By now it seemed pretty obvious that I was the annoying third wheel who should make himself scarce, ASAP.

I asked for the check, but Scott was one step ahead of me.

"All  taken care of Mick."

Apparently Scott had covered the tab for all of us while I was out of the room. All I had left to do was act grateful, and make my exit, but only after a quick kiss for Mistress.  

"Be careful, sweets", I murmured into her ear.

"Don't worry .....get some rest for our big adventure tomorrow."

We parted in the lobby.  As Scott led Mistress up the broad staircase to the 2nd floor, I had to wonder whether Mistress's "adventure" was already starting.

To Be continiued....

Back Home With a Story to Tell

 Mistress and Slave are back home after about 10 days on the road. She seemed to have a relaxing time in the sun during the first phase of our journey.  On breaks from dreary meetings at a conference I could usually find her at pool side with the other wives, and a few husbands who were along for the ride.  Mistress was even seen one morning participating in "aqua aerobics" with the senior set.  I suspect she became fodder for some late night fantasies for some of the old duffers who pulled up on their golf carts for the proceedings.

After  3  days of  me shoveling down buffet meals, (The best thing about COVID was the temporary ban on buffets!), Mistress and slave headed north to the Grand Canyon for what we hoped would be a night camping in the back country. But that was complicated.  There are only so many permits available for  camping down below the rim. And when we sent in our plea for a spot....well we were losers in the so called "lottery".  Our last hope was that a cancellation might pave the way for a scarce spot down at what used to be called the Indian Garden campground.  Otherwise it was a nite at the Bright Canyon Lodge and another in our tent at the crowded above the rim campground.

When we arrived at the Back Country office on Friday afternoon  it was in a cold rain. Deep snow was piled about along the side of the roads and sidewalks. Not exactly good omens for our planned weekend expedition. But as it turns out, the crappy weather must have deterred some who had planned to hit the trail in the morning.  There was a vacancy!  The friendly ranger behind the counter asked for a form I left in the car, and for our license plate number (Presumably so if we turned up dead on the trail, they could auction off our Subaru to pay for the cost of hauling our half eaten corpses out of there?)

When I came back from the parking lot, there were further....developments?

Mistress was standing at the counter with a tall, rugged looking dude who had appeared in my absence.  Maybe late 40's, early 50's.  About 6'2". Dressed sort of outdoorsy casual in hiking trousers and a Patagonia shell  still wet from the ongoing rain. 

"Change of plans, Slave....the Ranger and Scott here have persuaded me that two nights at Indian Garden is much better than one."

"Huh....but what about getting back for the cat....."  

Slave is always conscious of our schedule. 

"Not to worry, Shannon (our cat sitter) will be happy to handle that for one more day. With two nights we will have more time to explore down below....."

Since Mistress is, well, always persuasive, I quickly caved to the change of plans. 

But it gets better....it turned our Scott had a similar but more ambitious itinerary.

"He's going down there too tomorrow....so he can give us some tips on campsites and day hikes." Scott chimed in....

"I was planning a couple of days at Indian Garden....then on along the Tonto trail for the rest of the week....." Turns out  Scott is a far more experienced back packer, who makes annual forays into the Canyon.

Well then.  

The sparkle in Mistress's eye suggested that she had more than a passing interest in the "tips" that her new, hunky  friend might provide.

And that's the story that I will be sharing here in the days to come.  Stay tuned.

On the Road

 Mistress and her Cuckold / Slave are on the road this week, spending some time in AZ for work and (of course) pleasure. A little more snow and a little less sun in these parts than one might expect.  But at least Mistress had some time for a little Salon style pampering!  Don't let it be said that Slave doesn't spoil her. 

Now we are staying at a somewhat more luxurious resort with palm trees and swimming pools.  Sort of a Beverly Hillbillies dream come true .  Mistress is lounging by the pool while her Slave attends tedious meetings. She clearly makes entertaining eye candy for the country club gentlemen of a certain age passing through.  Fortunately, she saved her sexual energies for me.  There was some pre-dinner cock riding in our room before dinner last night.  Yum!

We did finally hear from the New Boss here at UCTMW Enterprises, LLC.  He had  gone MIA for about 10 days  and we were wondering if something had happened. Options we had considered were:

1. Drowned in a Vat of the high priced lubricant he favors?

2. His long suffering wife B had finally snapped, and disposed of him in a remote CO landfill?

3. Had fallen into the hands of Strict Julie, who had him tied to a rack for hourly lashings?

4. Found a more pliant couple to bully and dominate?

While it remains unclear what led to his temporary absence, the Boss reappeared Monday night  in our comments section with more cruel and arbitrary directives.  In particular, he demanded 5 consecutive cage days for this hard working cuckold!!

Sadly (for the Boss) I must reveal that the cage got left at home.  In this case, "Justice" delayed means that there will be not denial for me, at least for the next week!