Friday was one of those atypical mornings here at the UCRMW World HQ where Mistress has to be out the door early..... an hour earlier than her slave. Bummer. It was announced the night before that slave would not be getting his usual dose of wake-up sex because of that earlier departure time.
"Sorry slave. You're just going to have to wait for this afternoon.....and then only if you're lucky!"
"Understood, Mistress."
So as Mistress was getting ready for her early work engagement, slave loitered in our bed, reading the Times and surfing other news sources before heading to the shower.
But there was a distraction.
Mistress was parading around in her black tights and boots, with a black bra to match.
Very distracting. I was almost tempted to take matters into my own hands. So to speak.
But that would be wrong. Wouldn't it?
I tried not to think about Mistress in those hot black tights for the rest of the day.
And, fortunately, when I arrived home from work a little early on Friday afternoon, Mistress was in a very indulgent mood.
Yes, tights season is back! Here in River City, we had the last gasp of summer over the weekend. Sunny skies. Temperatures in the 70's. But when we woke here Monday morning, temperatures were falling and skies were gray.
"I think tights season is here, slave....."
Of course, since slave has a long and viral tights kink, Mistress had a devilish grin on her face as she let me watch her shake out some black tights that had been languishing since April in her mysterious tights and undies drawer. I stood there slack jawed watching her bunch them up and slither those shapely mountain climber legs into them.
Yum.
The sad part is that it was one of those Monday mornings when Mistress had a way too early meeting, meaning that slave would have to defer his own sexual release until later in the afternoon. Compound my horny by the fact that Mistress had been away since Friday morning, visiting our daughter in GA. When she arrived back at the UCTMW World HQ late Sunday night, she was way too tired from a long flight back for any "catch up" sex. So slave had actually been on abstinence watch for more than THREE DAYS. Dang.
Slave's been back at a "2nd career" sort of job these last few weeks. But thoughts were lingering on Mistress in those black tights, and the prospect of breaking that long, sad abstinence streak when I got back to her.
Mistress threw some kindling on the smoldering fire with a test around 3:30.....
"Let's have sex this afternoon, slave....."
"Absolutely", I quickly responded, hoping those in the meeting would not be offended by my distraction.
"I'm in bed now....."
That gave me the extra motivation to steer my meeting to a prompt conclusion.
My bonus: Mistress was still in those black tights, with nothing more, when I slid into bed next to her an hour later.
CUCKOLD ALERT:
Tonight Mistress will be entertaining at home one of her OKCupid suitors. This is Ken, for those keeping score. Slave will be cooking.
"I won't necessarily be having sex with him tonight slave. Not sure we are ready for that."
Ken is the guy working on a Ph. d. (of sorts) in "sacred sexuality". But entertaining. And clearly drawn to Mistress. However, the jury is still out for Mistress on whether sparks will fly between the two of them.
With Jay freed up from his child care duties this week, Mistress was able to schedule a real "date night" with him for Thursday night. I made some alternative plans -- taking pizza over to my daughter's house to chill with my cute grandkids.
Coordinating our schedules was necessary.
"So when are you leaving slave?"
"About 5:30 Mistress."
"OK. So I'll have Jay come over around 6:00."
She shared that they planned to go out to a local restaurant - on of their and our favorites - before returning here. It was clear I would be sleeping in air daughter's room, so I moved a few essentials there -- my kindle, the Times, etc.
Unlike a typical evening when Jay comes over and we "entertain" him, it was clear Mistress would be hosting her lover all by herself. As I left, she was still in her undies, primping for her date. I didn't get to see the outfit she had selected. But it was clear that she was planning to wear the black tights she had worn to a business meeting that afternoon .... they always attract my eye. I wondered if Jay had the same response.
I kissed Mistress goodbye around 5:30, my hand roaming over her tights clad bottom, creating a surge of smothered lust. I was surrendering my hot wife to a night on the town with another guy. Crazy, huh?
Dinner with the grandkids was fun, ending with reading some books to my lovable 2 yr. old grand daughter, who finally has taken a shine to her old grandpa. When I got home, at around 8 pm, I could see the signs that Mistress and Jay had spent some time in our living room. There was an empty wine glass (Mistress's) and an empty beer mug (Jay) resting near the edge of our couch. Was there a little make-out session there earlier? Or just some innocent chit chat before they left for dinner? Or maybe they'd fully "indulged" to whet their appetites? I knew they were not upstairs in bed, because Mistress's car was missing. Jay's was in our driveway.
I adjourned to my "man cave", off our kitchen, to waste some time on the computer. But soon enough, maybe at around 9 pm, Mistress was coming down the stairs.
"Jay's on a work call, slave, so I thought I'd come down and say good night."
At least that's what I think she said. Quite frankly, I was a little too distracted my the outfit she had chosen. It was a black and VERY short dress, hanging over those sexy, black tighter legs, that barely graced her thighs.
'Wow, Mistress..... Is that really what you wore?"
I actually thought she was wearing a tunic, and maybe had already taken off some jeans or pants.....
By now my hand was drawn magnetically to her thighs, rising what seemed like only an inch or two above her hemline to the apex of her fit and seductive thighs.
Yikes.
Mistress shrugged off my question.
"Why slave.... do you think it's too short. I guess it might have shrunk in the wash", she giggled, seeming to be amused by my unexpected concern about her "modesty".
Slave is not typically jealous on these matters. I've grown accustomed to Mistress's occasional dalliances, confident that I will soon be back in her bed and that her tales of sex with other guys will fuel our own lust.
But I must confess that the thought of Mistress out in public flashing all that black sighted thigh while in the company of another man got me going. I would have readily traded places with Jay when it came time to take Mistress to bed and peel off that alluring costume. And I had no trouble imagining all the other heads Mistress had turned at that restaurant as she laughed and flirted with her lover over drinks and dinner.
We chatted a while, Mistress checking for emails, and slave ogling her long, shapely legs. Definitely distracting.... Then Jay was calling for Mistress. His call was done and he apparently was ready for "desert".
Mistress rose from her chair and gave me one final kiss.
"Sleep tight, slave....."
Then she was up the stairs, into the arms of her lover....
I'll fill you in tomorrow on Mistress's account of her night . . . and morning . . . with her lover.
Slave had an unscheduled abstinence day on Friday. And I suspect I should have seen it coming. All that loud and raucous sex I heard coming from the UCTMW executive suite had taken its toll.
"I'm pretty sore after all that hard fucking, slave."
So while slave was allowed to "clean up" after Jay headed home on Friday morning, there was no opportunity for slave to get "sloppy seconds" either Friday morning or at the end of the work day.
"You'll just have to wait until tomorrow morning, slave....."
Maybe I should add some details about our Friday morning after Mistress's sleepover with Jay. That can be a touchy thing as the three of us wake up and try to pretend that all of this is "normal". After two rounds of fucking, Mistress came down to greet me with a kiss, and had me brew a latte for her slave, who was still in bed. She dutifully carried my concoction up to her lover.
Slave stayed downstairs, watching the news, in no rush for my morning shower, thereby giving Jay a little extra space to be the temporary "man of the house". Another 45 minutes or so later, Slave was finishing his corn flakes as Jay and Mistress waltzed downstairs. Mistress was still in her revealing nightie, but Jay was dressed and ready to go. The two of us shared some small talk on the overnight political developments, and we viewed a short video on the hijinks at the Al Smith dinner in NYC. Just two guys shooting the political shit, as you might around the proverbial office water cooler. If Jay thinks it's odd that I step aside on such nights to allow him free range in the marital bed, he no longer lets on.
Of course, it was back to normal here by Saturday morning. Mistress was recovered enough to give slave the green light again. And the wait was certainly worth it.
After a leisurely Saturday morning in bed, our day picked up as slave entertained his cute grandsons for a few hours and Mistress caught up on some work. Then we dressed for a fancy dinner at a downtown restaurant to celebrate the birthday of Mistress's younger sister. The Dowager Domme was there in all her black finery. But the big fashion statement of the night was the arrival of tights season here in River City. It was very summer like earlier in the week, but a chill settled in yesterday, forcing Mistress to go to that drawer where she keeps her hose locked away during the warmer months. As you can see, she had some ankle boots on to go with her black tights. The fashion statement certainly got slave's motor running, and turned a few male heads when we finished our dinner and ditched the family crowd to stop by a local jazz club to end our evening. And although we were both tired and a little full after dinner to enjoy some late night nookie, I am most certain that things will be looking up this morning when Mistress wakes from her slumber.
Mistress and slave got rolling a little later yesterday due to some work obligations. But we definitely made up for some lost time: who needs to stick to a schedule if that gets in the way of your morning wake-up sex.
It actually occurred a couple of hours after waking up here, and dealing with annoying clients vis conference call. But when things got going, Mistress was in a feisty mood, enjoying some bonus cums when she rode her slave's work-a-day cock.
We finally made it up the mountain by 10 am, but that still gave us time for plenty of skiing, a nap at home and then some later afternoon "two-a-day" action back in our bed.
Out only scheduled evening event was a deferred Valentine's Day dinner at a muy romantico restaurant down the road a bit, set in a tiny road side chapel built in the late 19th Century. Mistress decided to get all "gussied up" for our night out, so broke out some sexy black tights and a mid-thigh black dress to go with it, that caught more than Slave's eye at dinner. (Although I probably should offer to polish Mistress's boots!)
Our fellow blogger Terri, over at "A Married Sissy" would have enjoyed one development at dinner. The female servers all wore over their otherwise black garb very colorful aprons with a variety of vivid designs. The table next to us consisted of a youngish man in his 30's or so, a woman about the same age and an older man (maybe a father). The younger man must have taken an interest in the colorful aprons and discovered they were for sale. One of the waitresses brought over a plastic tub with 10 or so to choose from, and the guy proceeded to unfurl each of them, finally settling on two aprons to purchase. One depicted a canary in a hanging cage across the front.
This little display had both Mistress and slave giggling a bit, imagining this guy back at home, fully domesticated, in his apron and little else.
Not that there's anything wrong with that, right Terri?
Mistress and slave are hunkered down at DFW right now, grinding out some work, and waiting for our connecting flight to our SW hideaway.
As you can see, Mistress decided to grant a boon to her slave: wearing tights and a skirt to tease out tights season just a few more days, rather than sliding into some jeans for our journey.
I really am pampered, aren't I?
I realize we've been a little too busy and I forgot to post an "after action" report on Mistress's Wednesday afternoon rendezvous with her lover Jay.
He's been busy too, with some family and child care challenges, and work of his own. But it sounds they had a very "productive" use of their 90 minutes together.
"It was a lot of action packed into a small period of time Slave... He even fucked me up against the wall...."
Now that required some follow up question.
"How did that work, Mistress...."
"He had me stand on this little stool at first.... and then it just flowed from there..."
Needless to say, Mistress was pretty worn out at the end of the day, but she still agreed to go on a bike ride with me. Now that's a Mistress devoted to her Slave's well being.
Sadly, our early departure this morning precluded any wake-up nooky. So my chance to slide my hand along Mistress's strong and shapely tights' clad thighs is all the action I've had since Thursday morning.
With our daughter joining us on this trip, it may not be until after dark tonight that I finally get a chance to engage in anything more than longing looks and innocent fondles.
Mistress and Slave have desperately sought to get our noses back to the grind stone here this week with a positive attitude. But it's not been so easy. There was a nasty cold wave to deal with, and petulant, needy clients who apparently were wondering if we ever were coming back.
Makes us wish we had stayed in our SW hideaway, where the sun has been out ever since we left.
Not only did our sexcapades take a hit from re-adjusting to work and the time change, but our lovely cute Co-Ed has been around most of the week, on her endless winter break.
But things took a turn for the better yesterday. She decided to head back to her campus for the weekend (there must be some frat boy distracting her up there), and we finally seem to have caught up on sleep.
Not only did we have some bracing wake-up sex here on Friday morning, but Mistress also stopped by my office later in the afternoon for a little closed door "tide her over" treatment. Since it's tights season, I got to watch her slide off one of those sexy black boots and wriggle out of one leg, before she could expose the clean shaven folds that make her Slave get so anxious to serve.
It's always a refreshing break from office drudgery to fall to my knees and use my lips and tongue to please her.
Yum.
And now we have a weekend that should give us a little more time than we've had this week to loll about and indulge.
The days slid away from us here at UCTMW this week. Lots of running around for Mistress. Lots of performance art for her devoted Slave. In the middle of it we did take a little detour through our ever so flat state capitol. Slave had a presentation to make. And with our nest emptied there was no reason why Mistress could not join me for a brief respite in a Marriott bed and a romantic dinner to celebrate Slave's latest inglorious birthday.
That left time for some sex on the double wide bed before dinner, and some hot wake up sex the next morning before Slave was off to do his thing.
Yesterday I had another bit of bloviating to do at a big civic meeting in the evening. Mistress could have just gone to the gym or visited her friend Jay, but I was grateful that she loyally stuck by my side.
Of course, there was the incentive of a little pre-meeting worship in my office. She even wore her black tights and boots, which were a bit of a distraction to me later as I rambled on, and apparently to the long haired fellow sitting next to her in the third row , who seemed to be chatting her up during my warm up act.
After the dust settled and the rabble I had roused were heading back to their trouble making lives, we ran into said long haired dude down in the lobby of the building. He made sure to say good by to Mistress.
"It was nice talking with you...."
"Who's that Mistress?", I muttered to her in a little aside.
"Oh... he's T*****'s grad assistant."
"He seems to have taken a shine to you, Mistress...."
"I suppose he was flirting a bit...."
At least Mistress didn't get too bored at last night's meeting.
Now I better get back up to bed and show my gratitude.
Mistress and Slave spent another evening in the midst of the political classes at our local board of elections, monitoring the vote count for some friends with hats in the ring. That always reminds me that our first blog entry here...now four years ago, documented another local Election Day. Reading that entry makes me realize how the "voice" here has evolved, and the pleasant waters that have gone over the damn since wading into the blog-o-verse, and getting to know some of the characters that have haunted this page: The WC, Donna and Bill, and of course our friendly competitors over at All Mine. You too Sin.... though I am still waiting for illustrations!
And of course back in 2009, Mistress had yet to wade into the world of cuckoldry. While things on that front have been a little slow .... she's been a little preoccupied with her re-launch of her own practice.... she does have a "date" this weekend. It seems that her former fuck-buddy Jay, who has transitioned into a "biking pal", has invited to spend Sunday night at his place to celebrate his birthday.
"Not sure where this is headed, Slave...."
Has Jay's acquired aversion to involvement with someone who "belongs" to another given way to baser instincts?
We shall see.
The Election Night proceedings here were not as fraught with drama as they were back in 2009. There was no one about for Mistress to get paranoid about. Instead, the usual suspects were there, sharing stories about the good old days, and mourning a grizzled local political operative - someone I'd known since the days of George McGovern - who, naturally, picked an election day to check out on us.
Impeccable timing, Mike.
Mistress was as lovely as always, flirting with the reporters and local elected officials, while Slave chased the latest returns, called a despondent campaign manager who's candidate was out of the running with the first absentee reports. She had on a black dress and boots, black tights and leather jacket... very Dommish, come to think of it. But most of the guys there were too focused on themselves to pick up the signals, I suspect.
And when the tea leaves became clear, we headed home to our empty nest.... a little too tuckered to do much other than nod off.
'You don't mind if I sleep in the tights, do you Slave...."
"Ummmm..... of course not Mistress....you know how I love to snuggle up to your ass when you have them on...."
And I'm particularly interested in peeling them off this morning.....
Mistress and Slave had some pent up demands that needed to be satisfied by the time she landed back in River City on Friday evening.
I had spent my evening sharing a pizza with my cranky Mother, about a 15 minute drive from the airport. Which made it easy for me to get to the airport early, paging through my Times, still locked away in my cage, anxious when it was announced that her plane would be about 15 minutes late. OT in the cage was no fun!
But soon she was striding through security, a smile on her face, looking as lovely as ever. She had not adopted the Portland grunge look, though the dark leather jacket she wore, and flowing scarf, gave her a bit of a counterculture flair.
Naturally, I was very glad to see her, but the cage prevented me from showing her just how glad. No, 'Nilla. There was no extra key on hand. I had to wait for her bag to show on the carousel, and complete the 20 minute drive home before I earned my release.
Of course, Mistress seemed to enjoy my oral attentions, which led to her permission to indulge myself amidst those clean shaven folds. And over the ensuing 20 hours or so we "did it" two more times.
The bonus was spending several hours in bed on Saturday afternoon, napping and fucking and redeeming some of the time we had lost during her trip to the Northwest.
Last night we had a social engagement: a dinner party and concert at a local home for a charity that Mistress's mother is associated with. Mistress was her mother's "date" for the dinner part. I got to stay home a little longer and watch my alma mater school the poor cadets from the Air Force Academy in the thinner air of the mountain west. Sorry, WC. But at least we show our patriotism by giving the academies a nice pay-day and network exposure.
By the time I arrived at the party, Mistress was finishing dinner. She had dressed up for the occasion, and with the weather turning considerably colder, I was treated to the first day of "tights season". With the tights and high black boots she was wearing, I was glad Mistress did not make me get back in that infernal cage. Slave is a sucker for Mistress in those black tights, and as we sat together for the concert part, Slave was treated with the opportunity to fondle that tight covered thigh protruding from a dress with a convenient slit up the side.
Yum.
The music was sexy / ethereal too. An acoustic set from a local duo with a national reputation. Here's a video of them which you may like, of a song called "Sacred Ground", with a line about someone leaving little bite marks on the female singer's neck. It made Slave want to head back to the "sacred ground" of the executive suite at the UCTMW World HQ and help Mistress out of those tights.
Last evening at home after a long work day, Mistress and Slave were huddled under our blanket in bed, catching up on emails, and contemplating when and whether to go downstairs to whip up a light dinner.
Remember me saying that it was warm here in River City on Tuesday?
Well the climate changed again, the hot flashes ended, and we are back in the deep freeze here again.
It was nice under those covers. Mistress was still in those black tights she wears to work, but had slipped a short midnight blue velvety nightie on to complement them.
Realizing that I had not performed my worshipful duty yet, I tried to make amends.
"Would you like me to worship, Mistress."
Rather than reprimand me for being a little slow on the trigger, she expressed reservations.
"That would be nice, but then I'd have to take off my tights, Slave.... and it's so cold!"
I pondered a second. It would be a little hard to get her off via tongue and lips through those tights.
But then I became a resourceful pampered house Slave.
"How 'bout I use the Hitachi, Mistress. That would work through those tights."
It did not take her long to come around to my way of thinking. I just reached for the power tool parked under my side of the bed, thumbed it on low speed, and put it to work.
"ummmmm..... that's nice, Slave....."
Soon she was thrusting up against the chruning bulb parked between those tighted thighs, and Slave was enjoying all those little moaning sounds she produces.
The resulting cum seemed a nice appetizer for the dinner we had planned.
Yesterday, on the drive home from work, Mistress was flashing some black tights and boots, distracting her loyal chaufeur a bit as I dodged and weaved through rush hour traffic. It was so unfair.... I wanted to focus on sliding my hands up those firm and well exercised thighs, but the traffic required more attention than usual.
Mistress noticed where my eyes kept darting.
"You know Slave.... it's almost spring. Soon the tights will get packed away until fall. "
"No problem, Mistress.... those legs look mighty fine naked."
Mistress is not much for pantyhose of the conventional kind. Either it's black tights or naked legs for her.
"But I'm awfully pale.... need to get a bit more tan for naked leg season, Slave."
It seems early for that, but the sun will come. And at some point, the traffic ground to a short halt, allowing me to pull out my I-phone and snap a shot of those lovely legs to share (maybe I should rotate hot shots on her AM page to keep the drooling masses amused?) In any event, you can see how a slave can get distracted.
At home we went for a twilight bike ride - the sun had been out all day and temperatures were in the 50's. Afterwords I made sure Mistress was suitably worshipped.
"Am I a little gamey down there, Slave?"
"Just the way I like it."
After dinner, we spent a little time sorting through Mistress's AM applicants -- the culling was a little cruel, but you have to do what you have to do.
"Am I being too superficial, Slave", she asked as a brief perusal of one applicant's "private showcase" left him in the dustbin of history.
"Well it's sort of like the admissions process at some Ivy League school, Mistress... a lot of potentially great candidates get left behind."
Of course, some were easier to cull than others. As an example, if your "handle" was derived from a brand of farm equipment, or you liked to use the word "ur", that might be a quick way to end up on the cutting room floor. Under age 37 also seemed to be a hard line. And for the most part, 120 miles distance seemed a disqualifier -- though there was one guy from Canada who's photo seemed to leave Mistress agog. He remained on the list.
Slave was just taking orders in my role as recording secretary.
We even prepared a little spread sheet with the names, locales and key characteristics of the prospects that Mistress found tempting. By the end of the evening she had responded via email to a select few, asking for a little more information.
We will keep you updated -- sort of.
Amidst all this we did get a call from one of our far flung staff members, asking for a refresher course on our employment policies.
To be clear, unlike many employers, we have a more "permissive" attitude when it comes to relationships between employees and officers here. With so few employees, we fall below the threshold where those pesky federal laws prohibiting sex discrimination and harassment come into play. And since most of our employees are out of state, it seems unclear whether even our home state's laws apply. So our policy on sexual harassment is a little "sketchy".
As a general rule, we do not have any hard lines when it comes to creating a "hostile working environment". We figure this is a god damned sex blog! If you aren't comfortable talking about sex, being subject to sexual taunting, propositioned, or seeing hot photos of the Publisher laying around, or posted by the coffee pot, then maybe you should look for a job at Reader's digest.
AS for Quid Pro Quo harassment -- the type where getting ahead at work is conditioned on responding favorably for requests for sexual favors - we figure who would turn down a come on from our Publisher, anyway? Plus, she's pretty darn selective.
And of course, since the Executive Editor is strictly accountable to the Publisher, and has to wear a cock cage at all staff meetings or "retreats". So he poses little threat of demanding a blow job in return for a raise, doesn't he?
Nor do we have a policy prohibiting "Fraternization". That's the kind that says employees may not have "personal" relationships with one another, usually designed to avoid a sexual harassment claim down the road, when one party or another decides it's time to move on to the next hot secretary or purchasing manager. In fact, considering our ongoing need for "blog-fodder", a little sexual hi-jinks behind the file cabinet could well be an inspiration.
Of course, we would prefer employees to do that sort of thing without
charging their sex toys and lubricants to the company credit card
without pre-approval.
And this is one employer that will not have a religious or conscientious objection to including birth control on our generous (if high co-pay) health insurance plan. There's nothing more annoying than having to pay a temp during someone's long pregnancy leave!
After three days in the cage, and a good healthy ass attack on me Saturday, my inner sub was in full bloom by Sunday morning. I considered abandoning my switch privileges. It’s not easy to go from devoted Slave to semi-sadistic master, even for an hour or so under such conditions.
But then I realized that Mistress might feel let down. Abandoned. And with the WC apparently out of commission, I figured it was time to suck and up and step to the plate ….
In any event, Mistress had slept in her black tights…. The one’s she had worn on our Saturday night V-Day celebration. I surely liked my naked body rubbing up against them during the night. And I thought they’d look lovely in some photos to share with you.
After a bit if the typical grousing …. “but Slave… it’s so cold…..”… Mistress found herself in a rather tight spread eagle. It was amusing to watch her try to scratch her nose.
After snapping a few photos of her sad plight, I experimented with the feather kept in my bedside drawer for such occasions. AS you might expect, the tip of the feather was not quite as effective through the fabric of her tights…. But it certainly ahd her squirming when applied along the soft skin of her arms and the tips of those delicious nipples.
I lay down next to her for a while…. Kissing…. Sucking on those lovely nipples … Pressing my aroused cock against the junction of her thighs, until she was squirming delightfully.
“Have you unpacked the power tool, Mistress?”
“Yes, Slave…. It’s back under the bed.”
Glad to know she had not forgotten in back in her hotel in the Big Apple. What a distraction that would have been for the cleaning staff.
I reached for it, made sure it was at the ready, and I could tell Mistress was more than eager for its speedy application. But I had to break the bad news that came with the good.
“You didn’t think you were going to get off this easy, did you Mistress…. I mean after leaving my poor cock in that cage while you were out of town?”
This is my weekly opportunity to “balance the scales” , and they were way out of whack, don’t you think?
I showed her the two cloths pins that I had placed on the table, just out of sight.
“Oh, no …. I don’t think I can handle that today, Slave….”
“Oh, really …. Why’s that Mistress.”
By now I was sucking on her little rosy buds …. They were popped out and ready to be “pegged”.
“You only have to bear this agony untilt aht first cum, Mistress…. “
I popped one on….
“Ohh God…. That hurts….”
Then the other….
“I don’t know why, but they hurt much worse today Slave…. I’m not sure I can bear it….”
“I have great confidence in you, Mistress….”
The power tool was on now, and as I pressed it home, Mistress seemed to overcome that initial trepidation.
Her eyes were tightly shut, as she focused on the pleasure to distract herself from the “horror” of the two pins.
Her hips were rising off the bed, legs straining at the fabric I had used to lash her legs to the bed.
Wouldn’t it be nice to have a video of this?
Soon she had driven herself to the ultimate distraction.
“May I come now Slave….”
“Of course you may, Mistress…”
And as she abandoned all constraint, grabbing her first cum of the day, I popped off the two pegs in quick succession.
“Owww…. Ohhhhh…. God that hurts….”
That complicated mix of satisfaction and agony is always a wonder to behold, muddling Mistress’s mind no doubt….it would be interesting to see how she might be trained to enjoy them both in the hands of someone not constrained to an hour or two a week. A little full emersion might do her good.
What do you think, WC?
It was interesting to see how Mistress responded to the power tool while still in those tights…. It took her a little more to reach the next two orgasms, which came unadulterated with the conflicting agony of the pins’ sudden removal.
And when she seemed to have enough, I untied her legs, peeled off the now sticky tights, and took my own pleasure.
Though I straddled her at first, feeding her my cock to make sure it was fully primed for a good fucking.
She was a tasty morsel for me, her arms still spread and bound as I plunged in and took my pleasure from her.
Once satisfied I did feel a little remorse, though. In my single-minded focus had I ignored Mistress’s own satisfaction as I fucked her. I wasn’t sure at this point.
So I reached for the Hitachi once more.
“What are you doing, Slave….”
“Since it’s Valentine’s Day tomorrow, I thought I’d give you one more to grow on Mistress.”
But she didn’t argue with me. In fact, as I applied the churning bulb to a now naked and well fucked cunt she responded rather sluttily…. Coming in what seemed like a matter of seconds.
And my recently liberated cock felt that justice had been done.
Mistress has been mercilessly exploiting my craven reaction to those black tights with the strategic opening since she acquired them for her get up for our Much and Dungeon trip last weekend.
When she sees a little opening (no pun intended) that will further enthrall her Slave she goes for it, sort of like a WWF wrestler “heel” exploiting the bad knee of his opponent in the ring . And I am so easily drawn in, even though I know exactly what she is up to. What else to expect from the stupid, if greedy, Slave that I have become to her.
So yesterday, before our planned lunch together, Mistress popped into my office. Looking ravishing in her black boots, black dress, and black tights. Nothing unusual there. But I was soon to discover exactly which tights she was wearing.
I pulled her favorite chair up against the door, draped it with the maroon blanket well marinated with her fragrant juices, and she sat, pulling up her skirt.
“I guess we can do this with my boots on today, Slave.”
Sure enough her pink, full lips, already glistening, were there on full lascivious display, peeking through that clever opening, all ready for my worship.
Before I fell to my knees, I knew we had a moment to share with our Western Correspondent. He’s usually in need of inspiration. I positioned Mistress, legs spread, skirt hiked up, her naughty parts peeking out between those well tighted legs.
Snap.
Then I texted it to M.
“Mistress in her tricked out tights.”
That’s when I got to work.
“Yum, Mistress.”
“Glad you appreciate it, Slave.”
Oh, believe me, I do.
And when we were done, and Mistress was off to her office, and then to a dinner meeting afterwards, I was left to contemplate her waltzing about downtown, or dining with some male colleagues and clients, with her parts all shiny and damp, peeking out at the apex of those athletic thighs.
Gulp.
I took one of the teens to the movies after dinner, as Mistress did her dinner meeting. We both arrived home around the same time, at about 9:30. I was more than ready to redeem my credit for our earlier worship in bed with her.
As we shed our cloths, Mistress had a generous offer:
“Would you like me to sleep in the tights, Slave?”
“Sure…. If it’s not too uncomfortable, Mistress.”
“They’re very comfortable, Slave…. And I know what they do to you.”
“True, Mistress….”
We lay in bed a bit, catching up on emails. Mistress read Aisha’s entry about our evening at the Dungeon. We reminisced a bit about the remarkable things we had seen and heard.
That seemed to get us both in that mood, and I found myself grazing under the sheets, between Mistress’s thighs, my senses drowning in the taste of her arousal.
Unlike my daytime, work-a-day worship, we had no deadlines or fears of interruption, so I took my time working her over with lips and tongue: probing, poking, suctioning her tender clit between my lips, let her build to a shivering quaking series of climaxes as a finger sought out her tender little spots inside.
I get in my own little Sub zone in these moments, not unlike what Aisha describes as she let D and his young acolyte wind her into a cocoon of soft ropes on Saturday evening.
When she was satisfied, Mistress pulled me up to her, feeling her way down to my cock, gripping it firmly in those tender fingers
“Ohhh…. You’re so hard, Slave….. would you like to fuck me now?”
“Of course, Mistress….”
I slid onto her, thrilled by the friction of that opaque black fabric against my thighs, belly, and balls. She used her fingers to help me get past the opening and sink deeply into her. Then, buried inside, I did what a good slave is supposed to do at these moments: fuck her silly.
Fortunately, after a good bit of mutual silliness, Mistress gave me permission to come the very first time I asked.
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.
"Sorry slave. You're just going to have to wait for this afternoon.....and then only if you're lucky!"
