Mistress "threatened" to give her slave some strap-on action Saturday morning when the dust settled from our more conventional wake-up sex.
"I think you need a good ass-fucking this afternoon, slave...." was the way I recall her expressing her intentions.
"At your wish, Mistress."
But first there was some time for me to spend with my cute grand-kids, and for both of us to soak up some rays at our local swim club.
By 4 pm we were home, and ready for a late afternoon siesta. But when we woke, Mistress was determined to "make good her threat" before we headed to a movie up the street.
"Get our my supplies, slave."
I knew what that meant, so slave went about the task of retrieving her harness, it's phallic accessory and the lube. I also pulled out the aneros, which she likes me to insert after she's "hard her way" with me.
Supplies assembled, I reported to her in the bedroom.
"But where's the riding crop, slave?"
Oops. I guess she wasn't going to do a "half-assed" job this afternoon.
"Did I do something wrong, Mistress?"
I thought I'd been a good slave this week.
"Just get it while I think up some trumped up charges....."
"Yes, Mistress."
Reporting back, crop in hand, and without being told, I assumed the position on our bed. Ass up, pillow under my hips.
"Slave, you've been good this week. But these are to remind you to behave while I'm away."
(Mistress is heading on a trip with the Dowager Domme and her sister on Thursday evening).
She lit into my bottom with about 8 solid but not punishing strokes. I've found that they are more tolerable if I vocally express the ouchy pain they induce. So our two cats got an earful as I moaned in response to each one.
"There now, slave. Hopefully you've learned your lesson in advance and will be on the straight and narrow while I'm gone!"
Pain was soon turned to pleasure for both of us as Mistress deployed her strap-on. Her aim was true and she was soon pumping into me until her powerful thrusts turned me to putty until she exhausted herself in what appeared to be her own impressive cum.
Once we both caught our breaths, slave was allowed to take my own pleasure a more conventional way, with the aneros providing a little extra incentive.
And not once did slave exclaim "but Mistress, I've been framed!"
After a couple of weeks of less than optimal service from her slave, it was just a matter of time before Mistress "cracked down".
Yesterday was the day when slave's time ran out.
Things started here as might a typical Saturday. Though Mistress had a breakfast meeting for a client, we were able to squeeze in some wake-up worship and what Mistress referred to as a "quickie". Rest assured, slave was pampered in ways that some of my comrades are not (thinking of you Terri, on that lonely, caged sabbatical).
But before we went our separate ways, Mistress had a warning / promise.
"Don't be gone too long, slave. I have plans for you this afternoon."
Hmmmm?
I was back from some time with my cute grandsons by around 2 pm. That left time for an afternoon map, and nothing more on our agenda until a 7:30 pm dinner with the Dowager Domme and Mistress's sister.
So when we woke from our nap, there was still plenty of time in our afternoon. Mistress took full advantage.
"Get out my supplies, slave...."
I knew what she meant....her harness and it's important accessory. Along with a container of lube.
But as I was assembling the desired equipment, she had a second requirement.
"And get the riding crop too, slave....."
Oops.
Once Mistress slid into her harness, she took full and decisive charge.
"On the bed, slave.... and in your position...."
I knew it was time to take my medicine, like a man , errrr, slave.....
Mistress explained why it was time for a much delayed punishment.
"You've been a little too fixated on politics and facebook when you get home from work slave....and not on serving ME....."
As the stinging blows rained down on my backside, I did a rather poor job of remaining still.
"Stop squirming slave.... it will just make things worse...."
And so it did.
But all well deserved punishments come to an end. and this one too. Mistress swiftly moved onto pegging mode, lubricating her artificial appendage and sliding down onto my prone form and stinging ass.
Her aim was true.
Mistress took her time having her way with her submissive receptacle, and worked her way up to an impressive cum at my expense, finally coming to rest on top of me, short of breath but seemingly well satisfied.
Fortunately, she was more than happy to return the favor, though it took a little energy on my part to get out of the sub-zone.
Rest assured my "punishment" had the desired affect of re-focusing my attention where it should be: pleasing Mistress!
Here at the UCTMW SW Annex we had another nearly perfect day: tender wake-up sex, sun drenched skiing above the cloud cover, and participating on some local holiday rituals.
In particular, we enjoyed joining the locals for a farolito lit stroll down an old historic street of adobes, galleries and museums. Then we joined folks for a Christmas tree lighting at an old bar restaurant where our friend, a local troubadour, was singing "Feliz Navidad" along with the whole collection of holiday standards. Mistress and Slave slipped out early for a romantic dinner at an Italian restaurant owned by the Italaian gentleman Mistress had met (and flirted a bit with I might add) on friday evening. It's fair to say he was happy to see her!
Of course, the shops in the little downtown were open, with lots of encouragement to "buy local". But I'm not sure whether the folks on my gifting list would fully understand the gifts on display:
And of course the town square was all lit up to attract the shoppers:
By now you might be saying. "Hey, Mick, this is supposed to be a Femdom sex blog, not some tedious promo for the local tourist bureau!" So I will roll the clock back a bit to Saturday afternoon.
We had spent a few hours on the slope and knew that a rest period was in order before setting out on our evening of holiday gawking. I was snuggled up against Mistress, just dozing off when she abruptly threw off the comforter.
"I've made an executive decision, Slave..... I'm getting the riding crop...."
Oops. What about that nap?
True to her word, Mistress retrieved her crop from the cowboy boot converted to scabbard, and pulled the sheet off my naked ass as I struggled back to consciousness.
I came fully awake as the first blow landed on my awaiting posterior. I was way too dumb, sleepy and/or complaint to put up any resistance as a total of 12 stinging blows rained down upon me. (Apparently I was alert enough to count).
Somewhere after #2 she reminded me of the reason for my punishment.
"This is because you were a dick yesterday, and snapped at me ...."
"I am truly sorry, Mistress....I was out of line....."
She heartily agreed, and properly vented her disapproval on my helpless bottom. I suspect it was red and striped by the time she was done. Fortunately, she did not insist on a photo op to show the rest of you.
When my full punishment was meted out she showed mercy, though.
"You may worship me now, Slave."
I happily complied, burying my face betwixt those powerful and toned thighs and applying my skills to assure a proper cum or too.
Then she graciously allowed me to take my own pleasure.
Not surprisingly, her cock was fully primed when the opportunity was presented.
"I think you actually liked that cropping slave....."
"Well I can't say I enjoyed it while it was happening, Mistress..... but it did have a certain effect...."
Mistress and Slave have been enjoying our few days away "con much gusto".
After our wake-up sex rituals here in our hideaway on Friday morning, we spent some time just vegging out, reading books, checking in with work issues. Then at around 10 am we headed up to the ski mountain, where the bright SW sun was shining on about 8 inches of fluffy new snow.
This is where Slave got in trouble. I forgot to remind Mistress to grab her helmet and gloves from the back seat, requiring a trip back to our car in the parking lot, and delaying our first run. Slave got a little pissy when this faux pas was discovered, and Mistress ended up slogging her way back to the car herself to retrieve the missing items.
She was not happy.
Have you ever tried slogging through parking lots in ski boots?
In retrospect, that is what slaves are for. I should have insisted on doing this task myself.
And you can imagine that Mistress was none too happy with me after that slog when we finally were able to hit the slopes.
Fortunately, chatting with some friends we encountered, and the soothing sunshine after what seemed like months of River City gloom, soon lifted the mood and we had a wonderful ski day.
Nonetheless, when we got home I knew there would be a price to pay for my pissy-ness.
That's where the crop was dodged.
As we settled into bed for a nap, Mistress confessed:
"You deserve to be punished, Slave.. but I'm too tired right now...."
After our nap, Mistress did allow me to worship. But I was denied the chance to take my own pleasure, as I should have been considering my impertinence, don't you think?
Then it was time for Mistress to primp for a local charity event, with cute pre-decorated Christmas trees on sale to benefit local non-profits. Mistress slithered into a new pair of her "peek-a-boo" tights. Coupled with some black cowboy boots and a short skirt, Mistress turned her self into a guy magnet, and certainly yanked all of her Slave's strings.
At the event, Mistress enjoyed some attention from a well known local artist, as well as an Italian restauranteur.
"The first thing he asked me was 'are you married?' Slave...."
"Did you tell him, yes, but I have permission, Mistress?"
She just gave me that 'raised eyebrow' look. We may hit his restaurant tonight, if only for the gluten free pizza he was touting to Mistress.
By the time we got home we were a little too tired for any hanky panky. But Mistress did sleep in those sexy tights, just to tease her slave.
I'm hoping that my orgasm embargo has been lifted by this morning.
Mistress and Slave made it to our little SW hideaway late yesterday afternoon. It's a long travel day, caught up in the ugly world of 21st Century air travel, but once we arrived at our destination the sun was out the temperature was moderate and we quickly shed some of the angst that builds up in the gloom and year end machinations of River City life.
Our little adobe house was in good shape, though one could tell that Mistress's sister had moved a few things around during a recent visit with her husband.
One thing that caught my eye was how orderly our closet was - had the lady who keeps an eye on it while we were gone done some reorganizing? When I saw my cowboy boots lined up so nicely I did a double take at the accessory sticking out of one.
You may recall that over the summer, slave got into some hot water when I was asked to retrieve our riding crop at a moment when Mistress wanted to put it to its proper use.
And no, we weren't going riding.
Well, now we knew exactly where it was.
"Mistress, do you think Julie (our caretaker) put that riding crop there?"
"No, Slave. I did that the last time we were here. That way it won't get 'lost' again...."
"Do you think your sister saw it.... I wonder what she thought?"
"Oh.... If she noticed it, I doubt she'd think much of it.... she's not wired that way...."
Well I'm not so sure. And maybe she'd think that it was something that her brother-in-law uses on her sister.
Little does she know who wields the crop in this family! (Other than on switch days).
It was a very busy day here for a Saturday at the UCTMW SW Hideaway.
Of course, there was Slave's morning worship, followed by Mistress indulgently allowing me to fuck her.
Then a particularly bracing bike ride - covering lots of up hill and maybe 12 miles through our dramatic countryside. Taking the hill on our 2nd day was a bit of a stretch, but then that which does not kill you makes you stronger, right. I took a photo of Mistress in her New Mexico biking jersey after the long climb - her body glowing as the sun reflected off the damp sheen then enveloped her ---- a photo that we will get to later.
Then there was a trip to our quaint farmer's market at the town square. It's harvest time here in the Rio Grande valley, and there were amazing tomatoes, chilis and other veggies to be had. Plus Mistress found some gluten free scones and bread.
It was as I walked back to my car that I spotted this bull whip, adorning a skull on the wall of a leather goods shop. It made me grateful that Mistress hasn't developed a fancy for whips, and had left my own hide unblemished in recent months.
But I spoke too soon.
We spent the rest of the afternoon back at our hideaway, Mistress sunning herself, Slave doing some work I had put off a bit too long, and then I broke to watch my alma mater start it's season on our tiny TV.
We had plans for the evening that started rather early. Those plans would likely cramp our typical late afternoon trysting, so Mistress made clear that she was expecting some attention from her Slave when halftime came around. Of course, with my team comfortably ahead at the half, Slave was happy to provide my personal services. I kicked off the 2nd half of our double header with my head buried between Mistress's powerful thighs, and tasting all those mingled flavors of the day's exertions, her musky arousal, and just a hint of the Coppertone I had been commanded to apply earlier in the day.
But when my "job" was done, after Mistress came a time or two in response to my ministrations, I was surprised by her next direction.
"You were a little surly earlier about our evening plans Slave....go get the riding crop."
Well, I promise I tried, rooting through our closet, my cock at semi-attention, apparently thinking I was going to get a quick chance to fuck before the 2nd half kick-off. Sadly, our closet was a bit of a mess, and my initial search was for naught. Mistress was certainly disappointed, but nevertheless allowed me to climb on board and finish off the 2nd half of our doubleheader, with a warning that there would be a raincheck on the thrashing I so richly deserved.
(The good / bad news is that I was able to find the crop, after further searching later in the afternoon - just in time for switch day?)
Our 2nd double header involved music venues.
We joined some friends (the ones I was grousing about) for a house concert by one of those Texas singer songwriters. (Susan Gibson ). It was a rather staid event, on a local's patio, listening to un-amplified crooning as the sun set over the big mountain.
Then we were onto a more raucous venue where a local lady with a funky haircut - the same lady who is the postal clerk at our tiny rural post office - did her best to embody the 2nd coming of Aretha Franklin. Here's a link (Mina Tank) if you're interested.
Throughout both of these events, Mistress was not too surreptitiously using her I-phone to send text messages, and I had a feeling I knew her discrete correspondent for the evening.
Sure enough, when we finally had a private moment, Mistress confirmed that she was texting with her suitor D.
"He was sexting me all night, Slave..... describing things he'd like to do to me...."
"Like what, Mistress?"
"He must have seen that photo of me you posted earlier on facebook.... he said he wanted to drag down my biking shorts and bury his head there, just like Mick does....."
"Of course he does, Mistress....."
"He also says he likes a little fur down there.... I told him I like the clean shaven look."
Well that could be an interesting conversation as it evolves...
I'd go on, but Mistress just paged her Slave.... I suppose we are going to have to discuss who will be the croper and who will be the cropee today.
With our cute Co-Eds away over the weekend, there were no excuses when it came to re-inaugurating switch day traditions here at our new/old digs. And since the house has an equestrian theme, well why not break out the riding crop?
After some morning paper and blog reading, Mistress reluctantly allowed her slave (Dom for the day) to lock the red cuffs on her dainty wrists. I always like the way they match her elegant nail polish.
She was rolled onto her tummy, and her wrists were spread and secured in place. When I saw how seductive she looked with legs eschew, I decided to ditch the spread eagle effect, and let her squirm away as I applied the crop to that creamy skin at her bottom.
Of course, there is always a mix of pleasure with the pain on switch day. So - eventually - Mistress was rewarded with her favorite power tool, wedged between her thighs. She squirmed against it as I layered on some more slaps with the crop and swats with my palm as she worked herself into a frenzy.
Was it cruel of me to threaten to turn off the Hitachi just as she was getting close to a cum?
"Why would you do that Slave?"
The desperation in her voice was so compelling I decided not to throw that particular switch.
Soon she was begging for permission to come. And who would I be to deny her?
Her ass was so compelling that I elected to take her from behind, thrusting with gusto and enjoying those moans of delight from Mistress. We may have frightened the cats.
Mistress and Slave made it safely to our SW hideaway just before sunset on Saturday evening. And with a houseful of daughters and a son in law jetting this way, we've had to take our sexual opportunities while we have them.
We had some hot and juicy sex in a Holiday Inn in Abilene KS Friday night, foregoing a dinner of fried chicken and blueberry pie at the family style restaurant next door, for a dip in the hot tub and some cock riding by mistress in our King Size bed. Somehow having torrid zex in Kansas seems all the hotter. I think Ike and Mamie would have blushed.
Then, on Saturday evening, we unpacked our provisions and headed to bed before heading out for dinner. But Mistress had a surprise:
"Go get the riding crop, Slave...."
I wasn't sure what had provoked Mistress's "wrath", but I knew not to ask that question.
Sure enough, Slave was on the receiving end of about ten sharp slashes with the leather crop tucked away in the closet for such occasions.
Afterwards, Mistress directed me to insert my "device" (the aneros), presumably because she was concerned that that long drive might make her work-a-day cock a little lacidasical. It turned out not to be something for her to be too concerned about.
This morning, before we headed up the ski mountain to take some turns on the bright sun, I "tortured" Mistress a bit with her favorite power tool.
Then, this afternoon, after enjoying some cold sunshine on the slopes, we did it all over again after a short nap at sunset.
But our privacy comes to an abrupt end late tonight when family invades the empty nest.
While there should be some opportunities for private time, my guess is Mistress will have to keep that crop parked for the next week or so..
Those of you with tender sensibilities need a "spoiler alert" about today's entry here at UCTMW. As in, I don't want to spoil your breakfast. (Or dinner for those of you in more exotic time zones). There- you are dutifully warned.
On our walk back from Thanksgiving dinner Thursday night - yes, we live in one of those idyllic American communities that most thought ended in the 1940's where "grandmother's house" is a 15 minute walk up a hill - Mistress gave fair warning that my days of pampering might be coming to an end:
"Slave, I think we've been a little too vanilla lately.... we may need to get a little more knky this weekend...."
"What standing do I have to object, Mistress...."
"Exactly...."
Yesterday morning, Mistress got a little more explicit. We had skipped wake-up sex so Mistress could make it to an early AM spin class at our Gym. On the drive over, she let me know what I had in store:
"It's been a while since I fucked you in the ass Slave..... "
"True, Mistress....."
So when the cute Co-Eds went off at around 11:30 for some of that much hated Black Friday shopping and lunch with their Aunt and Grandmother, it was clear that my ass was on the line.
"Why don't you get out our supplies, Slave...."
I dutifully retrieved her strap-on equipment, and our lube.....but when I came back to our bed, I noticed that something else had been added to the mix.
Her riding crop was laid out on the bed.
As she slid into her harness, she made sure I was in proper position -- on my tummy, ass available to her. And as she struck me a good dozen times, directing me to stop my squirming to avoid even more, she reminded me of my need to provide even more devotion and respect in the weeks to come.
"Yes, Mistress", was about all Slave could muster, as my bony aging ass stung, fading after a minute or so into a warm glow. She took time to snap a photo and email it to me, with directions to post it here:
Mistress, of course, was not done just yet. She coached me into the proper position to accept the ass fucking she had promised, and seemed to have a nice powerful cum before she was done pumping into me. Then Slave was instructed to insert my aneros before she rode her work-a-day cock to another moaning cum. By then Mistress had her fill, and allowed me to fuck her until I begged for, and finally won permission to cum.
When the dust settled, we cuddled together in bed, enjoying the privacy of our temporarily empty noon-time nest. Slave's attitude was well adjusted.
I wonder if this is what the Pilgrims had in mind when they created the Thanksgiving Day holiday?
Slave had a sore ass last evening after Mistress administered a mid-afterenoon cropping as a way for her to express her well justified displeasure about some unfortunate developments here in River City late last week.
Slave was asked to speak to a large crowd about a civic issue on Thursday evening. It was a bit of an ego stroke for this aging crank, and I probably enjoyed my brief moment in the spotlight a little too much.
But that's not what got Mistress annoyed.
No... it was the rather overbearing presence of a woman we usually try to avoid around town. The one that Slave briefly got into some hot water with about 5 years ago, when Mistress and Slave were commuting from afar. That brief dalliance led, in a way, to our contract and this blog. Those of you who've stopped in here from time to time probably recall the sad the story. If not, check out the "back story" on the right.
Anyway....there she was, at the door when we arrived. And later she even showed up in the background of some random photos posted on facebook of Mistress chatting up some folks at the event. Mistress didn't actually blame her presence on me --- I didn't know in advance -- but she was not pleased.
"This is why I make sure to come to these sorts of events with you, Slave....."
And I thought it was a birthday treat.
Then, on Friday night we had plans to go to an event at a local, historic hall under restoration. It was one of those deals with a reception first, some drinks and bites, followed by some rather tedious "fine" arts performances, which turned out to be rather lame.
But once again, there was that particular woman, lurking about.
"She's a menace, Slave...."
We successfully dodged her through both events, but it's never good to remind Mistress of her Slave's past transgression.
So yesterday afternoon -- following a nice nap-- and after I gave Mistress's clean shaven folds the full attention they so clearly deserved, Mistress was inspired to grab the crop tucked away in our bedroom closet.
"Roll over Slave....."
"Oops...."
"What did I do wrong, Mistress?"
I know, it's never a good idea to question Mistress's exercise of her contractual rights, but I suppose I was curious.
"You know exactly why you deserve this...."
Ouch. The first few blows landed on my ass. I couldn't help but squirm away....
"I couldn't help she was there, Mistress...."
Double ouch.
"Don't roll away..... I'm almost done....."
I did my best to take my medicine, leaving my ass at her mercy. In all, I suppose it was only 10 smacks on my twitching ass. Nothing a good Slave shouldn't be able to handle.
"This is just a little reminder about the behavior I expect from my Slave."
Soon my medicine was fully administered, with my ass glowing. And I was duly reminded to redouble my devotion to a Mistress who is firm, but fair.
In retrospect, it's good for Mistress to vent that way, rather than brood about this annoyance. My ass can take it.
And in her post punishment mercy, she allowed me to fully deploy the work-a-day cock that remained firm as well throughout these disciplinary proceedings.
Last night the UCTMW World HQ was crammed with family and friends as we threw a party to commemorate our 20th Wedding Anniversary, Mistress's "BIG" Birthday, and our younger C0-Ed's birthday as well. There were just a handful of folks on hand who actually made it to that long ago "surprise" wedding, which had been disguised as a birthday party. Sadly, some key attendees at that event are no longer with us, though they were here last night in spirit.
Mistress was looking lovely as always, with even a cute lesbian couple fawning over her (this always fuels one of Slave's favorite fantasies).
Also in attendance was Francois (you may remember him, he's got a little listing on our cast of characters), with his female co-habitant. He helped us select the wine for the evening and brought a jar of spicy pickles as a gift, which I suspect had some double meaning Slave is still trying to sort out.
Jay was also in attendance. We have not seen him much of late, primarily because he's been dealing with a son now living with him. But he seemed to fit in with the crowd. Fortunately, we did not have to field questions along the line of "how do you know those guys?"
But with two of her former lovers here, those fawning lesbians, and a broad assortment of friends and family, hopefully Mistress felt that the evening was a success.
Slave probably is due for a punishment though.... at some point, before the party began, the warm sun still up, I had the temerity to ponder why Mistress was lighting candles.... I mean, it's summer time right? It was pretty toasty, it would get even warmer as the crowd arrived, and candles generate heat. "not practical".
Mistress was not amused.... "After 20 years haven't you figured out that I like lit candles, Slave."
Well, maybe I've tried to tune it out.
I did my best to back out of this "dispute" when Mistress got into a bit of a huff and started blowing out all the candles she had lit at some effort.
One of the first guests to arrive was Mistress's former assistant, (we'll call her Kate) also a woman who bats from the other side of the plate. When Mistress explained out little disagreement about candles, this friend nodded knowingly.
"It's the same way with Sally (her companion).... I'm always lighting candles and she's always moaning about it.... I just tell her 'deal with it'."
Not surprisingly, one would surmise that Sally is the more "macho" of the two ladies in that relationship.
So what is it with babes and candles?
Now Slave is up early, cleaning up the mess, while looking forward to a day off without much on the agenda other than attending to Mistress's wanton, post party desires, and hoping that my candle grousing did not earn me some swats with her riding crop.
I thought I had been a good Slave this week. Of course, there was probably a little grousing about the intrusions upon our previously empty nest, and the incontinent cat that recently has substituted a favorite couch for her littler box. But last night I apparently crossed the Mistress's theoretical line when I said something snarky after she put two of our bicycles on the disabled list over a rather short time span last evening.
(One had a flat tire; the other a slipped chain.... what are the odds of that?)
So I suppose I said something inappropriately sarcastic, like "two in one night, Mistress.... now that's a record.....", probably motivated by the fact that it would be Slave's duty to don my "bike mechanic" persona and fix both of them before a big ride we contemplate over the weekend.
Yes, I suppose it was that imprudent comment which tipped my secret accumulation of demerits for the week that Mistress had been adding up into the red penalty zone. (It made me wonder what's been going on over in Suzanne's domain this week, and whether Tammy has done anything of equal impertinence to justify a month in that infernal chastity device.... but I digress.)
In any event the consequences were swift.
"I've had enough of the surliness, Slave.... you deserve a punishment."
Mistress, still in her wet biking attire (did I mention she was riding in the rain.... or rather walking after the chain came off), closed the door to the Executive Suite, and told me to roll over and pull down my shorts. She groused a bit more as she searched for the riding crop in our closet that had accumulated a bit of dust over the last few weeks of my "good behavior".
"I hope the girls don't hear this Slave."
I suppose it was possible, since they wer just down the hall, watching some reality show on their computers, but I tried my best to stifle my own pathetic cries of distress as she gave me about ten hard whacks with her crop, as my ass bounced off the bed with each blow.
Ouch.
Then she snapped this photo with her I-phone and emailed it to my account.
"I want to see this posted in the morning, Slave."
"Yes, Mistress....."
Afterwords, I redeemed myself with some worship to Mistress's damp and well exercised clean shaven folds.
At least then I did not have to worry about "holding my tongue" for that task.
Sunday started out pretty normally here at the UCTMW World HQ.
Because of an early spinning class, Mistress deferred out traditional "wake-up sex" until after she was nice and sweaty from an hour on the faux bike, surrounded by a variety of socially competitive work out buffs.
"Some people actually have spinning 'outfits' and come all made up at 9 on a Sunday morning, Slave..."
"You look better than them au natural, Mistress."
I eased up on my Switch Day rights, simply treating Mistress to some time with the her favorite power tool wedged between her thighs. Then, once she asked permission to cum, and I gave it, Mistress allowed me to fuck her properly, much to our mutual enjoyment.
After that, there was another round of catch up with Downton Abbey via the PBS website, and a trip by Slave for provisions at the local grocery store. (Slave used a lapse in the upper crust twit Downton "action" to pleasure Mistress with my devoted lips and tongue. She seems to enjoy laying next to me, on full display. And its hard to resist the temptation).
We even fit in a brief nap, before heading up to our cute Co-Ed's campus to share dinner with her, bring up a Valentine's Day gift, and find out how her semester is going.
It's a short trip, so we were back around 7:30 pm. We watched a little more TV and paged through the Times when Mistress had a surprise announcement.
"Slave.... I've been way too lax on you these last few weeks, and it's not been good. You've become too surly...."
Moi, an uppity, Slave?
"What ever could you mean, Mistress?"
I tried to look shocked, but she's probably right. I have taken my "pampered house slave" status a little for granted.
"I think you know exactly what I mean....it's been weeks since I fucked you in the ass...then you raised your voice the other night, and you know what I think about that.... and there's been a little too much sarcasm of late.... tonight you're getting a spanking before bed time."
While it wasn't exactly clear what had led to this revelation, I was certainly not going to defy Mistress. After all, our life together is as good as one man could ever expect. And I am pampered...spoiled even.... I'm the guy who gets to go home with (and fuck) the hottest babe I know. It's been that way for more than 20 years. Pinch me!
We watched a little more TV. But when we elected to head to bed, Mistress gave me unambiguous instructions.
"Get out the crop, and get into position, Slave. I'll take care of you after I get ready for bed.
Slave did exactly that, laying the crop at the foot of our bed.
And when she was ready, directing me onto my belly, she wasted no time laying about 10 hard wacks on my ass that made me squirm and yelp.
I'll confess I don't take these "like a man".
"No more surly, Slave..... have I made myself clear....."
"Yes, Mistress....."
When she was done, I feasted on those clean shaven folds, making sure she had one more cum before bedtime. I'd be waiting until this morning for my own reward.
"Nice, Slave....", she said as she laid back on her pillow, seemingly purged of her annoyance at me.
'Can I expect a better attitude this week, Slave....."
I appreciated all your comments yesterday, dear readers. We seem to be in agreement that Slaves come in all sorts of packages. I would agree with Donna that this one was not "hard wired" as a sub by some strange genetic or psychological programming. It really wasn't until later in life that the mysterious sexual karma of submitting to the needs and control of my beloved Mistress made itself known.
I guess it was just a ticking time bomb waiting to go off?
In any event, for those of you who think I get off light around here -- the pampered house slave of legend - yesterday may get you thinking otherwise.
Of course there was our early morning wake up sex in the executive suite. Mistress got her starter cum as I grazed and she read the blog.
"My, this is a long one, Slave....."
"The better to worship you to, Mistress...."
Then Slave got his reward, allowed to fuck Mistress to his / her heart's content.
But then things took a different turn.
First off, I was doing some sweaty "field slave" duties for a good chunk of the morning and afternoon while Mistress and her diva in training were sunning themselves on our deck.
There was some roof repair, slathering pitch like goo on a hot flat roof surface to cope with a slow leak. There was grass mowing, weeding and planting in some beds around our yard, and mulching too.
All that got me pretty dirty and sweaty, and I did get in a little reading and relaxing when Mistress and the cute Co-Ed went off to get their nails serviced late in the afternoon.
But Mistress had a little warning for me before she left.
"When I get home you're getting a cropping Slave....."
I raised an eyebrow in surprise....as of to say "Moi?"
"You know why, Slave....."
Actually, I suppose I did. On our bike ride earlier in the day, we had some "cross" words. The subject is really irrelevant - all work related - but I clearly had not shown the type of support and sympathy Mistress had a right to expect. She was unhappy, and I was one reason for it. I probably knew then there would be consequence.
Sure enough, around 6 pm, Mistress returned home. She explained to our daughter that we would have a "rest period" before dinner.
I was given clear directions.
"Take off your cloths slave and get into position."
Of course, she got no argument from me. I was horny by then, and figured I could "endure" to the good part.
AS it turns out, Mistress wielded the crop with an unusual ferocity. She had me squirming and bouncing off the bed. At one point I actually had to turn my reddening ass away from her .... bad slave.... I know. It only earned me a few more whacks of the crop.
So, for those of you who think Slave is a little too pampered and "uppity", think again, my friends.
When she was done, Mistress directed me to "insert your device, Slave...."
The aneros stored away in our cupboard. I lubed it up and slid it home.
All was forgiven now, though Mistress had a little chuckle when I came back into the room.
"Oh my, Slave .... you've got some impressive stripes on your poor little bottom."
No doubt.
But the reward afterword was worth the momentary suffering. And Slave was appropriately reminded of his "place" here at the UCTMW World HQ.
This morning will be a little different for a Sunday.
No Switch Day, at least not until this afternoon.
Mistress has a little early morning "Booty Call" over at her lover J's love shack.
With the cute Co-Ed home, it's a little "awkward" (as she would say) to schedule the type of weekend sleepover both of them would prefer. So Mistress and he have a special "breakfast meeting" planned at around 8:30 this morning.
Which raises a question of protocol: Is it proper for Mistress and Slave to have wake-up sex before she heads over for his special brand of attention?
Or would that take the sexual edge off the whole Sunday AM "cuckold" thing for Mistress and Slave?
And what about J? Would it be fair to serve him "sloppy seconds" so to speak. Somehow I dont' think that has the same appeal for him as it does for Mr. "Not Sub Enough".
We seem to have decided on the "no sex for Slave" this am approach today.
I think I can wait until the well satisfied Mistress comes home around noon time, don't you?
Mistress and Slave made it back to River City after a long travel day and a bit of a delay at DFW. Our first stop once home was to pick up Mistress's car at J's house, where it was cruelly reminding him of her all week in the drive of his "love shack". I must say it is a cute place, but I did not get the tour. I dutifully headed home to give the two of them a little "private time" before Mistress came back to join me at the UCTMW World HQ. They have a more extended rendezvous planned for tomorrow evening, before Mistress hits the road for two nights away later this week on business.....
Vacations are lovely, but there is always hell to pay at work for the time off. And, in this case, there is also an an FWB to tend to, who no doubt has been missing Mistress during our travels, just as I know Mistress has been missing the way he deploys his particular skills on her pliant body.
It's late here, and I also have an early wake-up call tomorrow morning. So maybe a brief summary of how Slave exercised his Switch privileges Sunday afternoon, as I wait Mistress's return from J's arms?
As you saw from the teaser photo, I did not want to deprive Mistress of her sun time Sunday afternoon when we came down from the Ski Mountain.... so why not mix in a little of the great outdoors with a bit of bondage and discipline.
Mistress's only complaint as I bound her hand and foot to the chaise she had been parked on for an hour or so was that I not lose her book mark on her kindle. That taken care of, she did her part as the languishing damsel, barely complaining as I deployed the riding crop she had taken to me that morning to give her ass an even redder glow than the high desert sun had produced. Those pink marks are fetching, aren't they?
Once she squirmed and twitched a bit, it was time to mix some pleasure in with the pain. And as you can see, her power tool was all revved up and ready to go. I slid it under her thighs, the ropes binding her ankles restricting her ability to get full purchase on the churning bulb, making her dependent in her "Master" for the moment to slide the compelling device to and fro where she likes it.
It was impressive to feel that rosy ass as she writhed against the Hitachi, her muscles so tight as her arousal amped up to overload. Within three minutes, she was begging me for permission to come, without me having to remind her of the rules in advance! What a well trained Mistress!
After she moaned and gyrated to a primo cum, flexing her legs against her bonds, I decided to let her languish a bit.
"Rest up a while before your next 'treatment' Mistress..... I know you could use a nap."
She didn't argue with me as I applied a nice coat of number 8 to her legs, back and ass, making sure my fingers found each and every seductive cravass. I didn't want her to return to J all sunburned, did I?
After that, I sat in a nearby chair, reading a book. At first I don't think she believed I was imposing a compulsory R & R time as part of her Switch Day, but soon she got with the program. I could tell from her breathing that she dozed off.
It wasn't until about 30 minutes later that a high cloud covered the sun for a few moments, chilling the air, and waking her with a soft moan.
"I actually went to sleep, Slave....."
"So you did..... "
"Don't you want to take me inside and fuck me now..... the sun's gone....."
You can tell her priorities can't you? ..... even fucking takes second bill to some early spring tanning time.
"Not until that second "treatment" Mistress....."
I picked up the Hitachi, thumbed it on, and settling down next to her on the chaise, slid it home one more time.
This time, withing no more than 40 seconds, she was climaxing fore me again.
"Wow, Mistress, what was that?"
"I think you just had me so tuned up Slave.... I just couldn't help myself."
An old wily baseball manager knows how to organize a "double switch" in the late innings to put some punch in the line up or shore up his defense. Well here on the last day of our southwestern holiday, Mistress and slave had their own Easter Sunday "double switch". Maybe it was because we knew that our time for such endeavors was in the late innings, in a way, with a very busy week ahead back at our respective offices.
Mistress threw a change-up at me this morning. After she read the blog as I worshiped her clean shaven folds with suitable diligence, she had an order that took me by surprise.
"Go get me the riding crop Slave..... it's past time you got your due."
"But it's Switch Day, Mistress!"
"You can do your switch after we go skiing..... "
I did not feel that it was appropriate to debate the point. You know, pull out the contract and find the paragraph that was applicable. Don't think that would have gone over well. So I was an obedient Slave, fetched the crop and, at her direction, assumed my position on our bed. Ass up.
She gave me a good lashing, reminding me of my impertinence the other evening when I suggested she immediately went off to masturbate after receiving that facebook message from the local God of mountain climbing. But I have a feeling my sudden Easter morning punishment was more about my failure to deliver a suitable basket for her, stocked with Peeps and Reese's peanut butter cups. I guess I was just too lazy to make the 10 mile trek into town to collect suitable tribute.
My bad.
Fortunately, she was light with the crop - maybe only ten or twelve stinging lashes that had me crying out for mercy. Quite frankly this slave is not quite as enthusiastic about pain as some of you out there, or this Penitente dude associated with our "neighbors" at the Morada down the nearby lane.
Now that guy can get some air!
After she had meted out her punishment, Mistress instructed me to "insert your device, Slave".... the aneros I had made sure to pack. And then she proceeded to tease and taunt her cock with her fingers and lips until her Slave was begging for the privilege to fuck her.
Of course, Mistress had her own plans.
"I think it's time for me to ride my cock for a while Slave...."
And so she did, to a few of her own rather impressive cums, before she deigned it was time to roll over and let her Slave have his own pleasure. Fortunately, when I begged for permission, she was generous.
We had gotten up early here, and so there was time to loll around a bit out on our patio, read and eat a leisurely breakfast, before heading up the mountain for the final runs of the season.
It was a glorious day on the slopes, and the last day always brings out the crazies here - skiers in capes, tu-tus, or Darth Vader masks. But we were just happy to enjoy the sun and the softening snow. We took a coffee break after about 6 runs, sitting on a sunny deck. Mistress spent some of the time talking to J, who was in a long car ride Sunday. They were making plans to get together when we get back..... In fact. we'll be picking up Mistress's car at J's house tomorrow night on our way home from the airport. I wonder if I'll get a tour of his "love shack"?
By around 2 pm the snow was getting all the slushier, so we decided to call it a season. Mistress was anxious to enjoy a final afternoon of sun on our patio, and who was I to debate the point?
After we stowed away the ski gear for another year, I drove down to the local organic ice cream shop to make amends for the missing Easter basket, returning with a cup filled with two scoops for Mistress: Holsteen Sunset and Cherry Ristra. When I got back, she was chatting with J on the phone, and Slave was happy to hear her praise my attentive delivery of her belated Easter confection.
Now I know I mentioned a double switch earlier in the blog. But it's getting a little late here, and we need to get up early for our trek to ABQ. I will finish the tale tomorrow, probably from the airport. But here is a little tease for you:
Mistress and Slave had a very busy St. Patrick's Day.
Of course, there was the luxuriant wake up sex, a little earlier than normal for a Saturday morning, because Mistress had arranged to go on a little shopping trip with J to a place that makes her Slave's skin crawl: COSTCO. It seems they both like stocking up there, a little fringe benefit in bringing J into Mistress's life that she hadn't thought to put in her AM profile.
(For some reason they don't have a box to check after "handcuff play" or "spanking" for "Saturday morning trips to COSTCO" in the "kinks I enjoy" list).
So while Slave hunkered down to assemble all of our tax information, and then visited my grouchy Mother, Mistress and J were pushing their carts through COSTCO, and then sharing a late breakfast at a local cafe.
I headed home at around 1 pm, and figured I might have to give Mistress a heads up. No point embarrassing J when the doting hubby comes home, in the event their shopping trip deteriorated to a little hanky panky after unloading a years supply of laundry detergent or moisturizer.
But my warning text message and phone call went unanswered.
Hmmm.
I pulled into the drive, noting that their cars were both here. I figured I better make some noise, promulgating a hearty "Hello Boys and Girls" as I walked up the stairs from the basement to our ground floor.
Fortunately, Mistress acknowledged me, and as I turned into our family room I saw her there, not so discretly refastening her lacy black bra.
"We were just fooling around a little until you got home, Slave...."
Poor J, he seemed a little sheepish as he was reassembling his own Saturday shopping trip attire. I suddenly had a sense of how my Dad must have felt when he unexpectedly barged into a hot make-out session involving me and a high school girl friend. But I expect J will ultimately get a better sense of comfort with this admittedly unusual relationship.
He was headed home, and Mistress and Slave headed out for a bike ride in the 70-ish sunshine. When we got back to the executive suite, the plan was for some late afternoon sex. But Mistress had some bells and whistles in mind.
She had me strip, assemble her "supplies" (her harness and strap-on) and "assume your position" on our bed, my bony, 60 yr. old ass on full display.
As I looked around, I noted with some trepidation that she had her riding crop in hand.
"This is a little pre-emptive punishment, Slave.... I want to make sure you understand that you will be well behaved tonight...."
I sure respect those of you out there, Aisha and Donna come to mind, who seem to relish, even long for, a firm paddling or spanking. I for one think it hurts like hell, and its unlikely I will ever get used to the harsh sting of Mistress's crop on my bottom.... though I suppose it does have a certain compelling effect on my psyche once that initial sting fades.
So I squirmed and whined and begged for mercy as Mistress made sure I got the full treatment with her crop. It certainly focused my mind on being a "good Slave" for the rest of the evening.
And, in contrast, the nice ass fucking that followed, until Mistress came with a compelling moan and shudder, was a 'walk in the park". Luckily, Slave was rewarded with the opportunity to take my pleasure from Mistress afterwords, and then we snuggled into a nice late afternoon nap.
But soon it was time to get ready for our evening's activities.
I suppose I have Suzanne over at All Mine to thank for her emailed reminder to Mistress that her Slave should be in his cock cage for his night out on the town with the a bunch of tuxedoed Irishmen...... Gee, thanks there Suzanne!
Mistress thought I was cute in my cage and Tux shirt as we both dressed for our nights out, and took the photo above to share with our devoted readers.
As I popped in my studs, and fastened my bow tie, Mistress was primping for her date night with J. She had made clear that their plans did not include much more than some marathon love making, with a little cheese and wine to keep them going. So it made sense that her ensemble was a frilly, matching set of undies and semi-transparent top, covered by some jeans and a loose wrap sweater. I got a picture of that too.
It was clear she was excited about a chance for her first "sleepover" with J, though I do think she felt a little guilty about leaving her Slave all alone for the night.
"It will be fine Mistress. I'll be getting home at around midnight, and will be ready to crash by then."
As the evening progressed, we did trade a few texts, touching base. I sent her a photo of the Irish flag suspended from the grand hall where our banquet unfolded with all its bluster and pretension, the Guiness and Bushmill's flowing, and the glee club leading the crowd in the 'Soldier's Song."
But as promised, I was pulling into our drive at around 11:30 pm. AS I was lossenig my tie, my phone rang. It was Mistress.
"Hi Slave.... believe it or not, I'm in the parking lot at Kroger.... I came with J .... he needed to make a condom run....."
Oops. I guess J was never a boy scout. He was clearly unprepared for Mistress's appetite for his cock.
"Don't they sell those by the gross at COSTCO, Mistress?"
But, despite the poor planning it sounds like Mistress's date night went about as planned. Mistress says she will be home by around 10:30 am this morning, and since I'm still in this infernal steel cage, it will not be a moment too soon.
Sleeping in the cage apparently is one rather uncomfortable way to become aware of my natural nocturnal rhythms: starting at around 3:20 am, and at about twenty minutes after the hour thereafter, I was awakened by the sharp pain of my cock and balls unconsciously swelling against that cruel barrier.
Ouch.
When I did a little whining via text a little while ago, maybe with the hope that she would mercifully disclose the location of the key, this is the response I got:
"Good morning Slave.
Your Mistress will be home in a few hours.
Stay Caged!
I love you.
Your Mistress."
Every now and then my predictive skills are uncanny.... well not like Suzanne over at All Mine, but still pretty good.
And yesterday was a particularly good day.
First, there was the odd confluence of events. I mentioned running into a woman with the back story of having been involved with a former NFL QB. Low and behold, the local newspaper yesterday morning had a big feature story on this fellow, who had not played a snap since the early 1970's.
Then in our blog I predicted that the Jewish real estate developer who had sidled up to Mistress at the art opening would shortly pop up on her facebook friends list.
That happened by around 2 pm, when Slave and Mistress settled into a little R & R in our executive suite.
"Funny Mistress... he didn't friend request me....."
"Does that surprise you, Slave...."
No, not particularly.
Finally, I predicted that our unexpected encounter with that local singer / songwriter would end up costing me a sore ass. This is the one who used to date my brother (I introduced them for God's sake), but who Mistress has insisted for the last 20 years that I secretly have the hots for.
Sure enough, once our cute Co-Ed daughter (who made a cameo appearance yesterday at around noon) headed off to a hair appointment, Mistress suggested it was time for me to pay the price for her paranoia.
"Get out my supplies, Slave.... including the riding crop."
Maybe I should have taken a little longer spreading pitch like goop on the flat part of our roof that had taken to leaking during a recent monsoon. See.... I can be a "field slave" every now and then.
But I knew that further arguing would be fruitless.
"Yes, Mistress...."
I assembled her "supplies" -- strap-on harness, it's "accessory", lubricant, and of course her riding crop.
And I "took my position", after disrobing at her direction.
She commenced to thwack at me, while lecturing me on how obvious it was that somehow I had this long suppressed flame burning for this particular object of her disdain.
And I must say it hurt like hell. My ass was bouncing off the bed, and I did not do a particularly good job of maintaining my position.
But at least Mistress was able to relieve herself of her concern. Let's hope its a long time before we run into this woman again.
When she was done, she took a photo of my well cropped buns.
"I'm sending one copy to you for the blog, Slave.... and one to the WC, who advised me to give you a good cropping today...."
Gee, thanks, Miguel. And I've been so lenient when reviewing your AmEx card expenses of late. I guess I need to use a sharper pencil the next time you submit a $350 bar tab for entertaining a "source".
Afterwords, Mistress was in a more compassionate mood though. She already had that harness on, and caressed the marks on my ass, before guiding her little projectile into my back door.
And once she taken an orgasm or two that way, she told me to insert my aneros, and come back to bed and fuck her. Which I did to my hearts content.
And while my ass stung like hell for those moments of torment, all that pain quickly turned into a little warming glow as I plunged into those clean shaven folds.
But I think I'll steer clear of the predictions department today.... you'll have to consult Suzanne if you want some reliable dope on next Sunday's Super Bowl.
It's been a long time since Mistress required her Slave to post a photo of his reddened ass on these pages.... so you know I got into some trouble here at the UCTMW World HQ.
But before we get to that (that tease sounds a bit like your local news break where the blonde with big boobs says "poison gas cloud headed our way?,,,, more details at 11")... let me fill you in on our day here in River City.
It really has been many years since we spent the full blown holiday weekend here at home ... usually we are off to our Mountain hideaway this time of year. Mistress reminded me that we left the morning after TG last year. That's why a Friday with no real schedule seemed so refreshing. There was time for Mistress to sleep in.... to be followed by some slow and sensous wake up sex after she guffawed at my blog tribute to the vagaries of our Feast.
I was a little concerned that Mistress might be offended that I seemed to pick on her family -- suffice it to say that on Holidays past my family has done more of its own good vibe killing work. I can recall our first TG together, 20 years ago. Mistress was pregnant, we had just fled our respective spouses and were setting up our "love nest", and yet most of my family was supportive and already in love with the new addition to the family..... But for one sister.
She used some dead air over the holiday table at my (no longer with us) younger brother's house to pronounce "what's with my brothers -- dumping wives and finding new flashier models whenever it suits them!"
Mistress was classy enough not to bolt from the room, or toss a bowl of gravy over my sister's head.
Fortunately, we all survived and lived to feud another day.... and even that sister has mellowed with the years.
But Mistress took my post in the spirit intended and even added some incidents I missed the night before: like the fact that our guests had already begun chowing down by the time she and I sat down forgoing what I thought was the traditional TG toast to the assembled family members and those missing or departed.
Or the fact that her sister asked the open question at some point "does anyone want to know what I want for Christmas?" If I'd heard that I might have volunteered a few suggestions: like membership in a pre-paid legal services program; or the phone number of the guy who smoked and deep fried our turkeys, so she would not try to plunder the precious leftovers, as she had done the year before.
After Mistress and I decided we could no longer linger in bed, we took a hearty bike ride on an unseasonably lovely day. Then she was off for a lunch meeting with her boss, and the sullen teen and I went to pick up our Christmas tree - the first one we've had here in about 12 years.
When we got home Mistress was returning, and the teen was conscripted to go on a shopping expedition with her grandma and aunt. Mistress politely declined this opportunity to darken the door of retailers on Black Friday.
Suddenly we were alone.... and Mistress had plans for her Slave.
"Good.... now we have time to give you the ass fucking I've been promising you, Slave."
It had been a while, and since I am a bit of a slut about such things, I happily followed her command to get that ass up stairs and strip. She directed me to get her "supplies", the harness, lube and dildo. But when I completed those tasks, and was down to my undies, I noticed she had found one additional accessory --- her riding crop.
"Down on the bed Slave, on your stomach.... and shed the underwear too."
Gulp.
"To what do I owe this privilege Mistress?"
"You'll find out soon enough, Slave.... just get down there and show me that ass...."
I did, and she immediately began a nice firm and very painful thrashing....I was bouncing off the bed, whining, trying my best to "take it like a man", but was clearly having problems with that... it hurt like hell.
In a brief break, she reminded me of my "fuck-up".
"You know the reason, Slave..... that very unpleasant mistake you made about someone's name the other night, after K's party...."
Ah yes. We were driving home after a party at her boss's house. Old Mick sometimes struggles with names, and as I was reaching for one name, another one inadvertently popped out of my wine addled lips.... the name of that person who I fucked up with 4 years ago. Events I have mentioned here, that caused Mistress a great deal of heartache, but also led to our Contract.
"Well.... I think what happened is that you had brought her name up earlier, and somehow it floated out of my aging brain Mistress..."
We had talked about it earlier... she cross examining me about whether I had been withholding any contacts with this person.... I reassuring Mistress that it was all ugly ancient history. And yet, rightfully so, it had rattled her. She was right to let those feelings lead to some catharsis rather than fester, even at the expense of my now throbbing ass.
After that brief discussion, she added a few more firm strokes for good measure.... and I took my medicine. But it sure did hurt.
"I think I've raised some welts, Slave,,,,".
Her fingers lingered on my ass running along the red ridges she had created. Then she picked up her I-phone and snapped a photo.
"I want to see this on the blog in the morning, Slave.... to show our friends what happens when you misbehave."
"Yes, Mistress."
She was already in her harness, so the next step was obvious..... Making sure ample lube was applied, she had me on my stomach again, legs slightly spread. She found her target on the first try and was soon thrusting her way into me.
The surprise was how quickly and dramatically Mistress came, with a bone quacking shudder and deep moan of lust.... I surmised that the act of punishing her Slave was quite a turn-on for her, otherwise why did that explosion come so suddenly and with such passion? If that's so, maybe I will be seeing more frequent punishments in the future?
We shall see.
In any event, once she had her fill of my ass, she stood, tossed her harness aside, and instructed me to insert my "device" (the aneros), and fuck her properly.
It had been a stressful week for Molly and Mick. So with the kids gone for two days, we had made sure to have a very unscheduled Saturday.
Of course, there was time for some morning sex, then Mistress had an appointment for hair maintenance, while I did some yard work. By 11::30 or so, we were back at home together, getting on our bikes and doing a good hill climb before some time at our local swim club.
Mistress swam about 40 laps, as her dutiful Slave read the Times. Then we hopped back on our bikes for the ride home.
That left a good bit of the afternoon for us to loll in bed, before heading to an evening party at some friends’ home.
“I do like the kids being away, Slave…. it almost makes me feel like we are newly weds.”
I agreed, and look forward to their more permanent departures in just two weeks.
I stopped in the kitchen to prepare a snack, and when I got upstairs, Mistress was already in bed, in the buff, chatting with the WC.
He was curious about whether it was one of those Saturday’s when Slave gets a good ass fucking.
“We’re both pretty tired right now, M. But there’s plenty of time.”
She gave me a look as I was stripping off my bathing suit and t-shirt … one of those knowing smiles, laughing with M about my likely “plight”.
Once she signed off, we settled into some books, but were soon snoozing. About an hour or so later we were woken by some text messages from Molly’s sister, and a phone call from our second sullen teen.
The “drama” was about the teen’s apparent unhappiness that her slightly older sister was going on a college wardrobe shopping spree on Michigan Ave., while the younger one was shut out because she had already spent too much on “stuff” during her recent NYC trip.
This provoked the Slave into a bit of a huffy rant about spoiled kids not appreciating what they’ve got…. Yadda … yadda….
Apparently Mistress filed this away for later.
When it came time for is to shift our attention to more carnal pursuits, Mistress asked me to get her “equipment”, her harness, her faux cock, and the container of lube.
Once I obtained what she was looking for, and placed it on the little table at her side of the bed, I noticed something I’d not gotten out, laying on the sheet next to me.
Her riding crop.
“Uhhhh…. What’s this doing out, Mistress?”
Actually, I thought I’d been a pretty worthy slave this week, not that any particular excuses are required if Mistress chooses to discipline her Slave.
Se told me to get on my stomach on the bed, she picked up her crop, and I could feel it slowly tracing little patterns on my ass.
“save, you were very helpful and supportive this week …. But that rant this afternoon …. You know I don’t like all that complaining and whining, it suggests maybe I’ve been a bad role model for our girls….”
I considered trying to explain that they are virtual adults, and that when I complain about their behavior it is not intended to criticize their hard working Mom…. But that train had already left the station.
So I simply took my medicine.
Mistress lit into me with a flurry of slaps from that nasty crop. Hard ones, in quick succession. She had me squirming on the bed, my mouth biting into a pillow to squelch my “yeowwls” of discomfort.
She clearly was determined to instruct me on the error of my ways.
And she definitely succeeded.
After a brief pause she said, “Hmmm…. I think those really hurt, don’t they slave….”
“Uhhh….. yeah…. They really do…..”
“Well then just one or two more then.”
They were two particularly hard ones. Mistress is wielding a mean crop these days.
When she finally put down her weapon, I moaned in relief. Her hands rubbed the little stripes she had left behind.
That felt nice.
“Ohhh, my…. Your ass really is pretty red, Slave. I think I’ll take a picture and send it to M, since he was so curious about what we might be up to today.”
She took up her I-phone and texted it off to M. And she sent it via email to me.
“Make sure you post this tomorrow, Slave….”
"Of, course, Mistress."
I’m sure M enjoyed seeing the sometimes arrogant Executive Editor get his comeuppance.
By then she was cinching up her harness, applying some lube and telling me to assume my position.
My ass now just had a warm glow to it, which seemed to warm up the work-a-day cock too. The combination of a firm cropping followed by Mistress’s deployment of her strap-on certainly pushes my buttons, it seems.
And Mistress certainly seemed to relish the moment as well. She seemed to come more than once in little jerks and enthused moans as she pumped into her Slave from behind.
When she had her fill of me, tossing her harness aside for me to clean and tuck away later, she took another look at my ass.
“You know, I think it’s even redder now, Slave.”
She picked up our camera and took another shot --- so you now have another shot, for comparison’s sake.
And even this morning, I can still feel that glow. An extra motivation, no doubt, for Switch Day…. Kids away edition.
Mistress "threatened" to give her slave some strap-on action Saturday morning when the dust settled from our more conventional wake-up sex.
