Was it the full moon that brought out the wilder side of Mistress on Sunday?
We had some rather robust wake-up sex Sunday morning, featuring some rather rowdy riding of slave's rejuvenated cock.
"You seem back to normal now, slave....", she sighed finally coming to rest after a few well earned cums for her and one very satisfying one for her devoted slave. A month after my surgical repairs, slave does seem to have resumed my normal, if aging level of sexual proficiency.
After breakfast, we headed up the mountain to sunny ski slopes and another day in our local paradise, fighting the crowd of Texans who have arrived for spring break. After getting our quota of runs, it was back to our cozy hideaway, with lunch and a pre-dinner nap on the agenda.
But when we woke up Mistress was no longer in a somnolent mood.
"I think it's time I fucked you in the ass, slave....."
"Hmmmmm....."
I was told to gather her supplies, and, "resigned to my fate", set about gathering up her harness, it's phallic accessory, and our container of baby oil gel. Mistress mulled whether the deployment of her strap on should be preceded by a ritual cropping.
"I'm having trouble coming up with a good reason to punish you, slave...."
"Not even some trumped up charges, Mistress?
"No, you've been pretty well behaved lately...."
So Mistress spared the rod, and decided to cut to the chase. Like a good slave, I promptly assumed the desired position. That drew a chuckle from Mistress.....
"Why look at you....no foreplay? Just roll over and present your ass, slave?....."
"I'm just anticipating your desires, Mistress.... isn't that what I'm supposed to do?"
Apparently I had a point, because Mistress climbed onto the bed behind me, and was promptly on task, making sure that her "aim was true" then quickly picking up the pace as she plunged in and out of slave's welcoming orifice. She built herself into quite a frenzy before collapsing onto be, spent and satisfied with a rather dramatic late afternoon sexual release.
Of course, slave was not yet "fulfilled", though I was certainly worked up in response to her stimulation. I was told to insert my "device" (the aeros) and then as Mistress rolled onto her back, enjoyed the opportunity to plunge her work-a-day cock with reckless abandon into those succulent clean shaven folds.
It was a "two-a-day" worthy of the full moon in a big western sky.
Mistress was definitely in a feisty mood when Slave emerged from the early October gloom at the end of the work day.
I was allowed to shower off the detritus of my bike ride home through a mix of blustery wind and mist. But after that, the agenda was hers. And, very conveniently, our daughter had just left the house for the evening.
"It's been a very long time since I fucked you in the ass, slave....go fetch our supplies...."
It had been a while. So it took me some time to gather up her "tools" : the leather strap-on harness. It's plastic "business end". And of course the lubricant.
But, sadly, that was not all the equipment needed.
"And get the riding crop too, slave.... be quick about it."
Maybe it was Freudian, but I had absolutely no recall where the riding crop was. It's clearly been gathering dust somewhere. When I made that confession, she had a substitute in mind. And I quickly came to regret my lack of preparation.
She emerged from the closet with her strap-on in place and a wicked wooden "back scratcher" in hand. About 15 inches long, and very, very hard.
Slave obediently assumed the position, and proceeded to endure Mistress's wacking on my back side, with a good deal of squirming involved. I guess this is when some restraints would come in handy, because my inability to stay in one place had me enduring some extra wacks as Mistress ordered me to get back into position.
"So what is this punishment for?", I had the temerity to ask between whines of pain.
"You've not been paying enough attention to me, slave...."
Sadly, that's probably true. I have been a little distracted at work and with some civic activity these last few weeks. Mistress deserves more. And she taught me that lesson very, very effectively.
When the whacks stopped falling, slave was shuddering a bit, and very relieved. Mistress decided to take a photo to commemorate the occasion.
"This is for sharing with our readers, slave....."
Clearly, she's still appeasing the rabble. Although I have a feeling most of you will find my pale, blotchy ass less than appealing. Wouldn't you much rather see Mistress's bottom? With or without crop marks?
Rest assured that my butt is now back to normal, and that Mistress seemed to take much pleasure in deploying her strap-on. She always cums with mucho gusto when she gets to do all that thrusting.
And slave was allowed to take his own pleasure too after Mistress had done her "worst" on my aging ass.
After the dust settled, we settled down to watch a kinky Australian movie ("My Mistress"), culminating a night of excess that was too long in the cumming.
"We need to do this more often, slave", she murmurred, snuggling against me as I massaged her feet.
Friday evening, Mistress was lying next to me in bed, laptop on her tummy, scrolling through her digital photo collection. She was pulling out some scenic photos of our Mountain Hideaway and environs to assemble a slideshow or her office computer. And I was watching…
But it was hard not to notice as she sorted through all those photos a certain body part.
Mistress giggled.
“He does send me a lot of cock pictures, Slave.”
Apparently he does.
Various angles.
Various states.
But mostly rigid, veined, angry, needy.
“I think you like it Mistress …. I think it speaks to you …. About what you do to him …. What you make him want to do.”
“I suppose it does, Slave.”
And of course, Mistress could delete them when they pop up on a text message at the most surprising times.
At the office. At a lunch meeting. In a client presentation. Or the grocery store.
But she doesn’t slide them into the trash. She collects them. They end up on her laptop, with photos of the more mundane and prosaic parts of our lives.
Horses. Fall foliage. Teens. Mountains. Cocks.
“When you glance at these photos, does it make you wet, Mistress? Does it fuel your fantasy about being on your knees, worshiping M’s special occasion cock?”
“Mmmmm….. I guess it does, Slave.”
The laptop was finding it’s way to the desk next to our bed. Mistress was sliding out of her gauzy, transparent panties.
Her hand found it’s way to my cock.
I don’t think she was surprised to find it hard and ready for her.
“I’m going to ride it, Slave….”
I knew what to do. Lay back. Let Mistress impale her sopping cunt on my workaday cock.
And if in her mind she was riding the angry one in those photos, if it was our Western Correspondent pinching her nipples, or pulling her ass down onto him with his strong hands, well, who was I to complain.
Mistress worked herself into a state, then came crashing down onto me, moaning, face flushed, her fingers reaching behind, stroking my balls.
Apparently that collection can inspire all sorts of things.
Mistress was in a feisty mode Saturday afternoon.
After a bike ride and some leaf raking, We settled into an afternoon of leisure. Mistress took a nap, and I joined her after suffering through a dismal college football game.
When she woke it was time for her to remind me who is in charge.
“Get out the strap-on slave…. It’s time.”
She slid into her gear. Made sure I had the lube on hand, but first there was some business to take care of.
“I can’t recall now why you deserve a spanking, but we might as well take care of that too.”
I remembered. But chose not to remind her. It might only get worse.
My bottom was appropriately tenderized with her long wooden shoe horn. Stingy blows rained down on me, making me squirm and whine into the pillow.
But I think we both felt better when it was done. And I know the spanking made my bottom particularly receptive to her faux cock as she pumped into me.
Mistress comes in an altogether different way when she fucks me from behind this way. Her body jerks hard against me as her clit frictions against my ass and the leather of her harness. It seems to take her by surprise as she gasps her pleasure then collapses onto me before pulling out.
She gives me a little pat on the butt. As if I had been a good boy for her. And I had. Then she slides out of her harness. She leaves it on the floor for me to clean and put away for it’s next deployment.
“Go insert your device now Slave…. Then get back here and fuck me.”
“Of course, Mistress.”
Last evening we went to some friends’ home for dinner. It was a nice evening, sitting out back on their deck, under a full moon and stars. Mistress was allowed to “indulge”, while I went easier as the designated driver.
AS always, Mistress looked delicious: those high boots, black tights, swishy dress.
On the drive home, I had the pleasure of sliding my hands up under the dress. Mistress was a tad tipsy, but seemed to enjoy the friction of my fingers sliding along those smooth tights to the apex of her thighs, her legs spread, undulating a bit in response.
“Remember, tomorrow is switch day, Mistress …. And we’re following the regime that M proposed for you last week: tickling, teasing, but no cumming.”
She looked at me, a bit surprised.
“Ohhh…. You wouldn’t would you, Slave?”
“After all those orgasms last Sunday, I think you could handle it. But maybe we should ask M how long you should be expected to go without an O.”
“Good idea, Slave…. Let’s see what he has to say.”
So after we got home, and Mistress got a little pre-switch orgasm from my devoted tongue, I whipped off an email to our Western Correspondent, reading it to Mistress first:
M- I've told Mistress that she's going to endure what you suggested for last sunday....tickling , teasing but not cumming , But how long do you think I should make her wait? Sunday night? Monday? Tuesday?
She thinks if I ask you now it might hasten the time she will have to suffer without a cum.
(I did just lick her to a midnight O, so she shouldn't have too much to complain about....)
Mick
This morning, when I woke up and slid out of bed, I found M’s response:
--
Mick:
since she intends to keep you chaste for three days..
I would recommend Monday morning...
but with plenty of teasing in between...
i think an hourly teasing,
as much as possible,
would be in order...
feather on the clit...
each hour sounds good to me...
maybe a home made chastity device in between....
3 pairs of bike shorts?
with a sock tucked in between her legs...
just to suck up the juice and keep her from stimulating herself ?"
and strict observation...
she can be a devious little slut, might slip away and cheat!
AND I would pull down those shorts every hour or so and give her a good sound bare bottom spanking...
will jiggle her clit,
you will need to keep a very close watch on her at night...
might try to go for the quick rub off in the bathroom...
be very observant!!!
and/or bind her hands!!!
she is very smart will try to out fox U
good luck
the lazy ... but always entertained WC
M, thanks for your directive. I will do my best to fulfill the letter and spirit of your sentence for our beloved Mistress/Slave.
I suspect this plan of action may drive Mistress to distraction today. MAbe she thought M would give her a reprieve. Not.
And I suspect contemplating this plan of action for Switch Day could distract a few of our readers too.
Interesting and positive development: Mistress is getting more pro-active in expressing her disappointment in her Slave, and taking appropriate disciplinary measures.
Yesterday morning I did not have my writing Muse. Our recently turned 18 surly teen decided she had the right to spend the night at her boyfriend’s off campus apartment. Without permission. Actually, contrary to direction. It was a test, I suppose.
So when I woke up at 6 am or so and discovered that she was not in her bed and the car she was using was not in the driveway ….well, you parents out there can imagine what my reaction was. And my mood was not conducive to breezy, insouciant erotica of the type that she and our cadre of readers have come to expect.
Of course, that did not prevent us from enjoying ourselves between the sheets later in the morning, once we discovered that our daughter was safe (it took calling the boyfriend’s number … at least he was smart enough to know that she needed to check in or face the consequences).
But as I was dressing for a bike ride, Mistress told me that I was going to be punished.
“Why Mistress?”
“You’ll hear all about it …. Now come here”.
My pants were already off. She grabbed a fabric belt, told me to put my hands behind my back, and wrapped them together, tying a knot that would hold long enough for her purposes (not hat I would try to escape).
She picked up her long wooden shoe horn, thwacking me a dozen times. Ouch.
In the process she explained why I was being punished …. Some snarky comments, that morning, and, of course, my “incomplete” homework assignment.
My bottom stung. But I had learned my lesson. And I think it’s helpful to Mistress to externalize rather than brood about any slights of the type that had clearly irritated her ….By leaving my bottom red she had been able to get a few things off her chest. That allowed us to move on with a “clean slate”. And we did.
But before we were done, she picked up her I-phone and snapped the picture above.
“Post that tomorrow, Slave.”
“Ick. Embarrarassing, Mistress. Who wants to see some old guy’s red butt.”
“Your humiliation to our on line friends is part of the punishment, Slave.”
“Yes, Mistress.”
So there you have it. My lumpy, reddened butt. No sarcastic comments, please.
*******************************************
Later that afternoon, after bikes were ridden, errands were done and a bit of a nap, Mistress told me to fetch her strap-on.
“It’s been too long, Slave”
And maybe she was right. This is an exercise that tends to put me in my place. Maybe my snarkiness this week had to do with a Slave that had not been reminded his place more directly by his Mistress.
Taking me from behind also reminds Mistress that she has full control over me when she chooses to exercise it.
I dutifully retrieved Mistress’s harness and dido. After she was kitted up, she slid into bed next to me. I was already naked, and I helped her out of a tight black T-shirt and sports bra, giving me free access to those lovely breasts and sensitive nipples.
We fondled, sucked and slithered against one another for a while, building our arousal. Mistress grip on my cock assured her that I was more than ready. And my fingers told me just how wet and aroused Mistress had become.
“We can just fuck if you want Mistress.”
While I was not reluctant to be fucked in the ass ….I actually had been missing it … When the time comes there is always a bit of dread. It’s still hard for Mr. Type A to suck it up, roll over, spread my legs and submit to Mistress’s assault.
“Oh no, Slave. While I do want that cock …. And will have it after I am done …You really do want me to fuck you this way, admit it….”
“Ah ….yes … I suppose I do , Mistress.”
Mistress was lubing her little tool, and shared some of the baby oil gell with me. I did my own lubing with a finger, making myself ready for her.
“Of course you do, Slave. Now get into position.”
I rolled over, slid a pillow under my hips, giving Mistress the angle of attack that pleases her.
Mistress is getting good at this. She easily found her target, and drove into me.
This time I was the one doing the groaning, and once she established her rhythm, my ass was rising to meet her. I had become her cozy receptacle.
After a few minutes, Mistress thrusts become more erratic, and manic, and then she let out one of those groans from deep in her chest that told me she had come from her exertions. She gave me a few more tantalizing thrusts, then pulled away, sliding off her belt, and settling down next to me on the bed.
“Enough, Slave?”
“Yes, Mistress. More than enough.”
I was instructed to insert my white probe, and return to her. It reminds me of where she had been, and adds to the rigidity of an already quite hard cock.
Mistress likes a good fucking after taking me that way. And I was quite desperate to accommodate her.
Mistress put me on notice early on Saturday morning:
“Are you ready for my strap on this afternoon, Slave?”
Gulp. Yes. I was ready. But somehow the advance notice always sends a shiver down my spine that settles at the base of my balls.
After a trip to the gym, some auto maintenance and other light Saturday duties, Mistress suggested we adjourn to the bedroom, announcing to the surly teens that their parents would be taking a “nap”.
Mistress must have decided to press several of her Slave’s buttons. First she slid into those silky nude toned pantyhose with the special access passage carved into the crotch. She knows their texture can drive this Slave to distraction.
Next she donned her strap-on (the photo is from a few weeks back, but you get the picture). Menacing with promise.
She likes her Slave naked, and I obliged. Soon we were both under the sheets, me sidling against her sensuously sheathed legs, she grasping my cock with obvious purpose. Within a few minutes I was begging to fuck her ….but, of course, she laughed me off.
“Slave, you know who will be doing the fucking ….”
I was fully prepared to submit.
But just as were preparing for the main event, the text on Mistress’s cell chimed. Mine too. It was surly teen number 2, demanding an immediate ride to a friend’s house. Argh. (Why does a teen text her parents from down the hall, rather than walk a few short steps and knock on the door? Maybe under those circumstances one can’t complain.)
Being a pushover, I obliged. Though it was literally painful to pry Mistress’s warm fingers from my swollen appendage. I slid into a pair of jeans, and was soon off into the cold Midwestern air for driving duty.
15 minutes later I returned. Fortunately, Mistress had not found an alternative “victim”, and was still there, under the warm covers, tending to internet duties on her laptop. I was glad not to have been replaced.
It did not take long for Mistress’s skilled attentions, and my own roving mouth and fingers, to put us back in the same crazed state we had created for one another before that damn text chime.
Mistress directed me to assume the proper position.
With my Ass plumped up for her, she found her target and plunged in, filling me with her hard plastic tool. My firm, desperate cock throbbed against the pillow beneath me as Mistress exercised her powers, reducing her Slave to a panting, whimpering receptacle.
Maybe I was distracted in my own little sub space, but it seemed that Mistress’s quivering explosion crept up on her quickly, as she suddenly bucked against me, losing the rhythm of her penetrating strokes, her nails digging into my shoulders as she moaned in her pleasure.
“That’s enough for now Slave.”
She rose, leaving her apparatus on the bathroom floor for Slave to attend to later. I remained spread out on the bed, breathing hard, in the strange state of semi-shock I find after these sessions.
She commanded me to insert my little probe, so I struggled up from the sheets sticking to my body, and complied. My ass was open and ready.
Returning to the bed, my cock full and ready for her, Mistress lay back, and helped me find the little opening in her panty hose so that I could fuck her properly.
She was still in need, but now it was my time to do the work. And I was happy to clock in. In these tough economic times, it’s crazy to pass up a little overtime on a Saturday afternoon.
“ Tomorrow afternoon I’m going to fuck you in the Ass, Slave.”
It had been a couple of weeks since Mistress had deployed her starp-on. I was punished last weekend in the windy city for forgetting to pack it for our wedding trip. That shoe-horn hurt.
Her advance notice always sends a ripple of humiliation induced arousal down my back, that settles into my balls, tightening them in anticipation. Mistress is learning how to press her Slave’s buttons with a cruel efficiency.
On Saturday morning, after I did my homework, I returned to bed when summoned. As Mistress read my entry I deployed our “crystal cock” (CC), a lovely, long, ribbed masterpiece, about 8 inches long, that we bought at a high end sex shop in Gotham about a year or so ago. Sliding under the covers, I licked her teasingly until her juices were flowing, then slowly slid the CC into her, moving it back and forth a bit in response to the undulations of her hips. The CC and my tongue soon brought Mistress to a lovely series of shuddering, moaning quakes that seemed to please her. And then Mistress gave me permission to take my reward.
Afterwards, we enjoyed a long bike ride in surprisingly moderate temperatures for Mid-January. Lunch was a surprise Birthday party for old friends, but on the way Mistress reminded me what I was in store for later that afternoon. “Are you ready, Slave?”
Back home, after negotiating our drive schedule for the evening with one of the surly teens through a series of text messages (She was downstairs we were upstairs, far too big a distance to talk in person), Mistress slid into some alluring lingerie and then her strap-on. The sight of her strong, luscious body ready to take me that way always gets me going. But I was to be denied a bit longer.
“First a Nap. Then your ass is mine, Slave”. She told me the time when I was allowed to wake her.
As she rolled over under the covers, she required me to press my naked, and by now thickening, cock against her soft bottom. I think she enjoyed the tease. She knew by now I was more than anxious for her assault to commence.
I passed the time digging into the new political sensation, “Game Change”, wondering who was the bigger liar, John Edwards or Bill Clinton. Unclear. But of the two, there is no doubt about who the BETTER Liar is.
At the appointed time I let my still full cock prod against Mistress a bit more insistently. She slowly woke, asking me to confirm the time.
As she rolled over toward me, I could feel the hard plastic of her strap-on poke against my belly. Her fingers slid down to insistently prod my cock into full attention. Mistress likes it nice and hard before she turns her attention to my ass.
“Get in position, My Slave.”
I did, pressing a pillow under my hips, to give her a better angle of attack. She made sure the tip of her phallus was positioned properly and slowly sank into me.
“How’s that Slave”.
My moan as she filled me gave her the answer. And the moans turned into the little whimpers that she likes as she increased the tempo of her thrusts into me.
As she fucked me, slowly at first, and then with less discipline as her own arousal became apparent, she cross examined me on why this turned me on so much, insisting that I answer her. My less than cogent responses had something to do the unsubtle reminder that she is in charge, that I am her Slave, and that she can do anything and everything she wants to my body for her own pleasure.
At about this time in our dialog Mistress lost all control, pounding herself against my bottom and crying out as she buried her face into my shoulder. But she got a second win and continued to fuck me, now more slowly and deliberately until confirming that her Slave “had enough”.
Climbing from the bed, Mistress shed her strap on and told me to insert my little white probe as a surrogate for “her” cock. I did that, standing next to the bed, facing my reclining Mistress as she watched my cock twitch at eye level before her.
The probe is a bit longer and fuller than Mistress’s strap-on, and seems to make my flesh and blood cock all the harder and more desperate. Reaching out, Mistress pulled my cock to her for closer inspection, and used her fingers and mouth on her standing Slave until she had me begging to fuck her for fear that my seed would be wasted on the bed linens.
Finally and with an amused tone Mistress allowed me to mount her. She laid back, no doubt tired from her exertions, allowing me to press her hands over her head, and feed on her firm nipple as I took my turn at filling her as completely as she had filled me moments earlier. By the time I was given permission to come, it was with a shuddering force that took both of us by surprise.
“Good Slave”, Mistress said as I rested, spent, on top of her. It’s always nice to get positive feedback.
Apparently I had a point, because Mistress climbed onto the bed behind me, and was promptly on task, making sure that her "aim was true" then quickly picking up the pace as she plunged in and out of slave's welcoming orifice. She built herself into quite a frenzy before collapsing onto be, spent and satisfied with a rather dramatic late afternoon sexual release.
