Justice Done

You will happy to learn that Mistress has paid her debt to society, fully satisfying the terms of the sentence laid down by our “Judge”, the WC. I suspect she will think twice before removing clothespins without permission again, that is, unless she actually enjoyed a day of teasing attention, frustration, but ultimate satisfaction from her devoted Slave, who’s task it was to execute the “remedy” imposed be the WC’s belated decree.

It was a long day, with lots of juicy details. But I know you at least want to hear the highlights, and some of the whining and wheedling that accompanied it. Keep in mind that the “order” provided for at least 10 rounds of tease and denial, and that Mistress would not be permitted an orgasm until 4 pm. That said, let me count them down for you:

10. It was around 8 am. Slave brought up the papers, and we read a bit, touching in our conversation about her “sentence”, and what it might entail

“You aren’t really going to do this, are you, Slave?”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world….”

“Meanie.”

Then I presented Mistress with the laptop to read the blog, and nested between her squirmy thighs, lapping and sucking to my heart’s content.

“I’m trying not to pay attention, Slave….”

But when the squirms and her breathing seem to shift to that tell tale rhythm that tells a cum is close, Slave backed off.

“ohhhh….. damn.”

9. The laptop set aside, I pulled out those red leather cuffs, using little pad locks to secure them. Then Mistress was rolled over, onto her stomach and the cuffs were fastened together, right above that lovely smooth rump. That’s when I deployed the Hitachi for the first time of the day, sliding it between those thighs from behind. It was fun to watch her hump the bed in frustration, little beeds of sweat popping out on her lower back, the aroma of her arousal filling the room.

“Don’t you dare cum, Mistress…..”

But I did her a favor and switched the hitachi off just when I knew she was getting to that point of no return again.

“That’s two, Mistress.”

“How will I ever make it to ten…..”

8. Now she’s on her back, arms fixed spread eagled above her head, to corners of the bed. The tools are our crystal cock and my tongue. The Hitachi is really too easy at this point. Getting her close to the edge on only seconds it seemed. This way I build her slow and incendiary, with gentle flicks of my tongue, and the suctioning of her clit between my lips and teeth, as the ribbed glass cock slowly moves in, put and around probing for that little spot that could send her over the edge…..

“Ahhhh…. You better ….stop if you want …..me to last… Slave….”

I gave her a few last licks with the very tip fo my tongue as her hips arched out of the bed…. then let her rest a bit.

7-5. She’s still bound, arms extended. By now my needs were becoming more pronounced. The “order” had provided me the chance to take whatever whenever, so I figured this was as good a time as any, since mistress was so “available”.

As I slowly fucked her, Mistress and I discussed the rules…

“So what counts as one, Slave… “

“I think getting so very close, then an appropriate, ‘cool down’ period, before getting you close again….”

“well then this should count as 4 , 5 and 6, Slave.”

“That seems too easy, Mistress….”

But as I built her up so close with my thrusts and my fingers between her splayed thighs, 1, 2 then 3 times, before taking my own pleasure, I agreed she was right …. That long bout of fucking should count as three.

4. I let Mistress relax a bit, sipping my coffee as she writhed a bit longer in frustration. Then I went back to work between her thighs, just with my lips and tongue this time.

“My you are wet, Mistress….”

“Maybe that’s because you just came there, Slave….”

“Ahhh…. That’s right…. This is the type of treat that Tammy gets over at All Mine all the time, Mistress…. But it’s not his own cum.”

“That’s what you deserve, Slave….”

But soon she was just moaning, and squirming, and then indicating that I had better stop before it was too late….

“Of course, Mistress… thanks for the tip.”

3. With Slave’s base needs met, I figured it was time for a little rest for both of us. I unfastened Mistress, then got her some ice tea and me some OJ downstairs. We actually had some vanilla plans to take care of…. Mistress to do some grocery shopping and me to collect my cute grandson for some play and swimming time.

“So you’re really going to make me wait until this afternoon, Slave.”

“Of course, Mistress…. And remember no cheating, can I trust you, or are you going to go to the hitachi the moment I leave?”

She gave me her word, as she fondled her I-phone….

“I’m texting M, telling him that he’s scum.”

Not long after, the chime of her phone went off.

“He says ‘that’s a strong word, Molly….”

She was standing now, in a sun dress, I pulled her close to me my hand dipping under the hem, feeling for that soft smushy part between her thighs, and my finger went to work, sliding between those soft folds.

She began to stiffen, her head buried against my shoulder when I stopped.

“That was fast, Mistress….”

“I’m getting desperate, Slave…. what do you expect….”

2. I was off to collect my grandson, and she and the sullen teen #2 were off to the grocery. We met up again back at the house, to change into our swim costumes for a few hours at our local pool. As I played in the water with the cute one, Mistress was lounging in the sun, reading the Times, and deploying her I-phone.

“M wanted an update…. Then he said he was going to go take care of himself and think of me all frustrated here….”

“Those are good thoughts, Mistress….”

It wasn’t until around 3:50 pm that we got home. And Mistress even agreed to defer our bike ride, to solve her growing “problem”. Now that says something about how horny she must have been. When I came up to our room, Mistress was in the shower, and I quickly shed my suit and t-shirt to join her. She was all wet and soapy when I pulled her back to me, using one hand to fondle her lush breasts while the other groped between her thighs, sliding to and fro until her body stiffened….

“Close, Slave….very close…”

1.When we emerged from the shower, it was a little after 4…. And Mistress had a text from M waiting for her.

“He says it’s after 4…. Where are we?”

Now here’s a judge who monitors outcomes very closely.

“Tell him were going into extra innings, Mistress.”

I had thought of using the Hitachi one more time on her, but figured that would be a little too quick and dangerous. So I pulled out the crystal cock and began rubbing its length and ridges between her thighs, slowly, making her squirm as I kissed and cuddled against her. Mistress was squirming as I then lowered my head to those molten lips and began to gently suction her between my lips…. That’s when her hips jerked with sudden vigor…..

I stopped….

“What was that?”

It sure seemed like the first little wave of an orgasm to me….

“I was close but…..”

“We need to figure out what to do next Mistress…. We may have to start all over again….”

“No… we can’t….”

Mistress’s frustration was palpable.

“Let’s get M on the phone for a little sidebar conference on how to resolve this problem…”

I dialed him up, finding our “Judge” in Costco. No doubt he was looking for one of those 50 gallon drums of lubricant he relies on to get him through a few weeks of special occasion cock maintenance.

I calmly explained what I had witnessed, and Mistress was also handed the phone, to share her remorseful defense. To me it sounded a bit like “the dog ate my homework”, but I suspect M felt that she had already “suffered” enough. So rather than starting from ‘one’, his Solomon-esque remedy, delivered from the vegetable aisle at Costco, was one additional round of tease and denial.

Fair enough.

In fact, as Mistress finished up the call, I had already begun lapping and sucking on her, without any additional tools.

Suffice it to say that by the time she hung up with M, she was well on her way to completing that final “bonus” round.

I then explained to Mistress that her remedy had been fully administered, and asked whether she wanted to experience the fruits of her sacrifice then and there or wait until after dinner.

“I’m sure the ordeal has taken it’s toll, Mistress.”

Are you surprised that she wanted to proceed immediately?

I figured she was due the full treatment by now, so as she spread her legs for me, the Hitachi was deployed, and the frustrated Molly took full advantage of it. Liberated from the ban on cumming, she laid back and allowed me to build her up to a full fandango of gyrating, moaning and throwing herself off the cliff, until she begged me to turn it off.

By now, Slave was more than ready to show her a good time with my work-a-day cock, and it seemed that Mistress had at least two more orgasms as we went at one another with unrestrained gusto.

So, WC, thanks for your impartial and reasoned deliberations, and your fair and balanced order. You may have a future as one of those TV Judges, let’s call it “Kinky Kourt”.

HNT / Deploying Our Crystal Cock

Yesterday morning’s blog made me realize that crystal cock at our bedside table must have been feeling underutilized.

So when I brought the laptop up to bed to my snoozing Mistress, and woke her from her sleep, I slid the pink, translucent ridged wonder out of it’s little cozy coffin shaped box.

Mistress took care of her business, and slid back into bed with me ready to read the blog. And as she scrolled through it, I slid under the sheets, to begin grazing on her sumptuous folds.

To fuel my fetish, Mistress had decided to sleep in those black tights with the strategic opening. My cock had pressed against it for much of the night. And, well, I was kind of horny for her, as you might expect.

But first things first….

Mistress squirmed and stretched a bit as I began to lavish her with attention from my tongue, poking, probing, sliding to and fro to open her up to me. Then, with my right hand, I began to probe with the business end of the crystal cock through the opening in her tights, as it wormed it’s way to it’s destination.

“Ohhh…. Cold Slave…”

Yeah, the thing is a little cold until body heat warms it. Not like a real 98.6 degree cock. But much harder.

There is a trade-off I suppose.

“It will warm up Mistress.”

I gave her clit a firm suck, tugging it between my lips, then slid the crystal cock in a bit deeper still. That seemed to distract Mistress from the temperature differential.

Soon she had put the laptop aside, and was focused on the combined assault of my mouth augmented by those little ribs inside her bumping along her inner contours.

The orgasm that resulted seemed to clear the cobwebs from her brain. It took a good bit of digital dexterity to cling to that crystal cock as she bounced against my mouth.

I consider that a sign of a job well done.

And she must have felt the same, because my dedication and skill were richly rewarded.

“Give me my cock, Slave.”

“Of course, Mistress.”

Molly and Mick's Toy Store Stories

SFP, I promise: I will dump out the toy box (or in our case, boxes, bags and drawer) soon for their photo op. Mick and Molly have a lot of them, hidden here and there. It will make an interesting tableau.

This shot is one from the annals: taken a few months ago when our Western Correspondent wanted to know which toy to have Molly insert in her virginal little bottom to provide a little preview of what it will be like when he elects to take her that way.

Mistress is quite anxious for the opportunity. The very thought of it gets her all juicy and wanton, doesn’t it, dearest?

 These days most of our shopping is done on line. The Stockroom had a great selection and nice, prompt service. Plus you avoid all those moments of potential embarrassment as you pick out your supplies. Though I suppose there might have been a cock twitching moment of humiliation if Mistress had told me to drop by the local “Hustler” store in downtown River City, and pick up that harness and dildo she uses  when she elects to fuck me in the ass.

As I recall, it was the Mistress perusing the Stockroom catalog about two years ago that had her selecting our little white probe, seen in the photo, called the Aneros, to break me into the delights of penetration.

“It might be good for you. Remind you who is in charge, and what you are: my Slave.”

This was about a year before the contract, when Mistress was just beginning to flex her Domme muscles.

And when I first lubed it up and slid it in, it was during a video chat session, with me in River City and Mistress down in Florida during the last few months of our commuter days.

Mistress was very impressed at how obedient I was, and how frustratingly large my cock became once I was fully penetrated.

Yow.

Good idea, Mistress. I was resistant at first. But Mistress does know best.

Our first visit to a Toy Store was before we discovered that Mistress should be in charge. It was probably back in the late 1980’s, when Molly and I were still “undercover”. (i.e., married but not to each other).

Somehow we arranged to be in San Francisco together. How we got away with that stuff remains a mystery to me. But there we were, alone together in one of the greatest cities on the planet, with little to do but eat well and fuck.

Mistress and I played our occasional tie up games in those days, and when we saw a funky little smut shop in that Italian Neighborhood in the north end of the City, we stopped by, and acquired some leather “handcuffs” that can buckle and lock. I recall using them in our hotel that night, Molly’s wrists bound over her head, as I took my time to extract a few orgasms from her.

We still have them: comfortable, secure, useful on either wrists or ankles. They sometimes get deployed on switch day to bind Mistress’s ankles together as I squeeze the Hitachi between clenched thighs.  Very effective. I’m surprised she’s not tried to use them on me. (hint, hint).

Of course, not all toy stores are the type of squalid, sleazy operations that seem to be the focus of Aisha and SFP’s experiences.

Two falls ago we were together in NYC. Mistress brought me along for a business meeting and we had a day for exploring Soho. We did some on-line research to find the best sex shoppes in the City that Never Sleeps.

Our first stop was at Kiki de Montpernasse. Kiki de Montparnasse

Very high end.

Muy Expensivo.

Big beautiful display windows, elegant lingerie, and all sorts of fancy “toys”. Click through some of the pages on their web site and you will see what I mean. Love the categories: “Dilletos”, “Butt-ins”. Cute.

Their retailing concept is that sex toys are now mainstream. Beautiful items to desire and deploy for discerning couples.

Or singles.

The staff are well dressed, younger women, not large guys with dirty shirts looking like they need a cigar in their mouths.

Why settle for a plastic or steel cock ring or butt plug when sterling silver is available?

We settled on our Crystal Cock, also seen in the photo.

It is Beautiful to look at and lovely to hold.

Fills Mistress quite nicely. Ad the ridges seem to have a cunning effect. It comes in a cute little coffin shaped box that slides open. It sits right on the table next to our bed for easy access. Fortunately, my cue grandson hasn’t tried to pop it open and play.

Yet. 

I can imagine the questions that might generate.

I’m thinking that Crystal cock is coming out of it’s box in about 20 minutes.

Mistress Begs, But Does Not Surrender.

Mistress was in a fix: bound, spread eagled, on her back on our bed yesterday morning.

You can see her in the photo.

Leather cuffs bound her wrists.

Strips of an old beach towel bound ankles to the corners of our bed.

I made her rise to accommodate a fluffy, full pillow under her hips, presenting the apex of her widely spread thighs for my “experiments”.

It was Switch Day.

There would be no stinging, flat handed spanks to her firm bottom today. No crisp red stripes from the riding crop.

Instead I was determined to test her will in another way.

My tongue and lips tormented her.

I fed her my cock, until it was throbbing, lubricated by her tongue, so it was literally sucked into her sopping, greedy tunnel. Then she received a slow, languorous fucking.

“No coming Mistress. You’re going to have to beg for it this morning.”

I pumped at her for 10 minutes or so, slowly sliding to and fro against her squirming pelvis. Her breathing was reduced to shallow sighs of quiet desperation, but she wasn’t begging. Not yet. Both of us were pacing ourselves.

Ultimately I slid from her, afraid that I might lose my own control. I wasn’t going to be the one to ask permission first.

“Where are you going, Slave.”

“I think you know what’s next, Mistress.”

I reached for the Hitachi, always at the ready under our bed.

I used it to create some false expectations of an easy return on her investment of surrendered authority on switch day. She was near the edge. But no begging.

I turned it off.

“Hey….. I was getting close, Slave….”

That was just a prequel, Mistress. I need another toy for the main act.

I reached to the table next to the bed, and slid the crystal cock from it’s elegant little box. She watched my moves with interest, while pulling at her wrists, testing her bonds.

“Oh… we haven’t used that in a while, Slave.”

Within seconds, Her cunt greedily devoured the hard, glass cock with it’s swirling ridges.

My face hovered over her there, focusing all my attention on the folds and valleys that presented themselves. A little rosy and wet playground.

Then I switched the Hitachi to low, applying it exactly where Mistress likes it. It sent a quiver through her. I heard that moan of delight. It was what she had been waiting for.

It didn’t take her more than 30 seconds….the horny, little slut.

“So can I come now, Slave?”

I laughed.

“That doesn’t sound like begging, does it?”

She fidgeted. Gave off a little frustrated mewl of anguish.

I pressed the Hitachi more firmly against her. I could almost feel her try to withdraw a bit… not sure where this was headed. But of course, she had nowhere to go, stretched so “cruelly” tight by her bonds.

“OK… Please, may I come, Slave.”

“Am I really the Slave under these circumstances, or something else?”

She was grinding herself side to side against the churning white bulb of the power tool. My other hand pressed the crystal cock even deeper into her. I had a wonderful view, my face hovering inches above ground zero of her frustrated desire.

“Oh God…. I really need to come….. what do you want me to call you.”

“What titles best fit these circumstances, slut?”

“Sir… Master…. Whatever…. Just, please, please let me come.”

“Either one will do, but I need to hear those words presented properly and with sincerety….”

She was moaning. Her hips were struggling for control. Muscles in her legs flexing against the cotton cloth that bound them. Did I actually hear her grit her teeth?

“Please, Sit, May I come?”

“How badly do you want to come, little slut?”

“Very badly, Sir. Please may I ….. now.”

I suppose I could have eased off on the Hitachi. But then she would complain that I was teasing her. I could have slid back the crystal cock some. But I liked the way it impaled her. Made her even less capable of evading the power tool. She was pinned and growing increasingly desperate.

But she hadn’t surrendered. Not yet. Not completely.

“Are you so desperate to come that you’d make me your Master indefinitely…become the Slave of the household.”

“No, Slave… not that…. how about for just today?”

Interesting. She was negotiating. She was clearly very desperate to come. I could tell that. But she would not really give up the reins of power. She had drawn the line. And she was not going to surrender her authority.

What to do? Shut down the Hitachi. Let her languish for a while. See if that might change her tune. Then start all over again in an hour or so?

But, as I continued to press the Hitachi and the crystal cock against her mulling my next step, I realized was glad to hear her resistance to my ultimatum. I was glad she was loyal to her role as my Mistress, no matter how much I tortured her with frustration and desire.


She was sticking to name, rank and serial number.

And, as you surely knew I would, I was the one who surrendered.

“Yes, Mistress, now you may come.”

I pressed unrelentingly on with my devices of torture.

It took her a minute or so, once the caution flag was lifted, to mentally cash in her chips…..but when she did.

Yow.

The moaning, the stretching of muscles, the sobs, as she took her self over the cliff, once, then twice, until she was begging me to switch it off….

“Oh, God,,,, I’m too sensitive now Slave. Please turn it off.”

And I did. Obedient as ever.

(I listened to you on that one, Sin.)

When I put town my instruments, and turned to face Mistress, her face was red, blotchy from those sobs. Tears caressed her cheeks.

And she hardly protested when I slid back into her, still spreadeagled, to take my prize.

Yes, I was still her Slave. She made that very clear. But, at least for the moment, she was still at my mercy.

Internal Crystal Combustion

The monsoons stopped, finally. So Mistress and Slave were not going to languish too long in bed n Sunday morning, even though it was switch day.

But there was an assignment for M to complete.

“That description sounds a little impossible, Mistress….” (see yesterday’s blog).

Mistress bent her long, tanned and muscular legs this way and that, tryin to replicate the pose he required. I had warmed her up a bit with my tongue through those gauzy panties, so her moist tunnel gladly accepted the crystal cock we had acquired two years earlier at a very pricey Soho sex boutique.

“How’s that Mistress.”

“Mmmm….nice Slave.”

Her cunt clung to it very efficientl , allowing me to rise and retrieve my camera.

I snapped shots from a number of angles for him. Mistress does like to accommodate her remote Master. No doubt hoping the cumulative enticements and submissions will someday earn her a personal audience. And I like to be her nice little compliant slave in helping her with that goal.

Isn’t it nice when we all know our roles and play them well. Sort of like Ron Artest coming off the Lakers’ bench? OK, enough with the obscure sports metaphors.

Photos taken, I had another experiment to conduct, but figured Mistress would be better bound to the bed for this one. Some long strips torn from a weathered beach towel were good for tying her wrists together, and a leather cord attached them solidly to the top of our bed. She was going nowhere.

I played the crystal phallus in and out a bit, poking for her most responsive spots, while lapping her clit gently with the very tip of my tongue. Soon she was squirming nicely.

“Didn’t he suggest a combination of the crystal cock and the Hitachi, Mistress?”

“Ahhh….yes, I think so, Slave.”

I reached for it where it was parked for easy access under the bed, then switched on the little relentless tool he has been using to train her to be so dripingly responsive to his commands.

“We wouldn’t want to let both of you down.”

What followed was a slowly paced, accessorized assault on Mistress’s needy parts: as I pressed the tool against her with varying degrees of pressure while using another hand to tease and torment her channel with the phallus.

At some point I pulled it out all together and pressed it to Mistress’s lips, even as she squirmed against the Hitachi.

“taste it Mistress….you are delicious.”

She was. I had already sampled her.

“Mmmm…..God, it’s hot slave, feel it.”

Sure enough, the end of the little device was steaming hot.

Somehow Mistress was generating a whole lot of heat inside her desperate little cunt.

“Please don’t melt it, Mistress. That damn thing was expensive.”

It went back inside. It was sucked back inside, truth be told.

Slave was kind enough then to put Mistress out of her squirming misery, as she came in a fit of moans, lurching against her bonds, Confused about whether she should be begging me for permission to come, or demanding the right as my Mistress.

Ah the sublime confusion of a switch day well executed.

And before we abandoned the bed for a long bike ride, I was instructed to send those photos off to her Master.

He seemed pleased with her, but, as feared, she did not get the pose right.

Hopefully he will send an illustration next time.

Adjusting to that New Work Schedule

When your surly teens both have driver’s licenses, two cars are available, and it’s a Friday night, can’t parents at least expect that the house will be abandoned allowing more devious adult activities at the end of the work day?

Unfortunately, that was not the case at our house last night. Instead we seemed to have “helicopter” children last night, hovering around us, and making us use more discretion that would otherwise have been required.

Well of course we made due.

Driving home, I had the pleasure of parking my hand between Mistress’s legs, sliding a finger ever so gently along her slick black “work” panties.

At some point the discussion turned to her “friend”, who, somewhat untypically, had called her that afternoon, to comment on a slutty photo she had sent him via email. (Mistress asked me to help her select the photo the evening before – we settled on one that showed her ample and firm tits).

“What did he have to say, Mistress?”

“Oh….he told me he liked the photo, Slave.”

“No doubt”.

“He said maybe he should take some too….Not sure how I feel about that.”

“Well, I’m not sure you have much to say about it, Mistress.”

Mistress’s hand wandered to my crotch, as I kept my eyes on the slow moving rush hour traffic.

‘Does this talk make you horny, Slave?”

“I guess it does, Mistress”.

She could confirm that with her own fingers, which momentarily gripped my hardening cock. Argh.



Once home, we took a nice Bike ride in the sun shine, though cooler temperatures have prevailed here in River City these last few days.

We had contemplated going to a local wine bar for a “tasting” afterwards, but the tease I had “suffered” on the ride home had made me a bit more interested in tasting Mistress’s juices than some cheeky Oregon Pinots.

So we found ourselves in bed, my face buried between Mistress’s legs, my fingers using the Crystal cock to cause one of those sudden and convulsive orgasms that Mistress sometimes exhibits. And I was rewarded with an opportunity to slide the hard cock that had been pining for her into that needy little cunt. Ahhh.

After recuperating in bed for a while, we made a picnic dinner, and settled into watch “The Blind Side” on PPV. It was painful to watch the opening scene, when the Giants break Joe Thiesman’s leg one more time (I am old enough to have watched him play in college), amusing to see the suburban southern belle cloths they crammed Sandra Bullock’s bottom into, and distressing to see what passes for an Oscar winning performance these days. But at least we had not paid for tickets at the theatre.

Since my interest in the movie was somewhat less than compelling, I would have gladly sat as Mistress’s feet, and suckled her toes and then her cunt while she watched. Butthe teens kept wandering in and out, demanding car keys, or rattling off their needs for Saturday, so we kept it righteous and reserved until the movie’s inspirational ending.

By now it was getting late, and at this time on a Friday night, after “doing it” once already, we might normally settle into bed with a good book and defer our next “activity” until morning….but ….Mistress was feeling frisky, and so was her Slave.


Maybe it was our ongoing dialog about her interest in Sir M’s cock, and her slutty behavior in his presence, but it did not take long for Mistress’s supple fingers to produce one more raging hard on, and for her juices to freely flow. And we were at it again….

I guess we have figured a way to adapt to Mistress’s new work schedule after all.

The Head Waters of My Addiction

Mick and Molly’s spring break with the surly teens is coming to its end. One more day of skiing and then we head back to River City on Sunday. We have spent a good bit of our time with our kids, skiing, and sampling the music at some local honkytonks. But those long afternoon après ski siestas have also given us plenty of time for our favorite form of recreation.

 

As a daughter said last night:

“How can you spend so much time ‘napping’?”

“Well, dear….”  (How to explain?)

The photo above shows how Mistress gets herself all gussied up for a night on the town here, once that long siesta is over. Like the cowboy boots?

This week, which began with a theme of devotions to my favorite Mistress parts. So before week’s end, I would be remiss not to mention those delicious morsels at the apex of Mistress’s firm thighs.

Their taste and scent have long been a primary source of my addiction to her. I suspect I have spent at least a hundred hours over the 20 some years of my relationship with my face planted between those legs exploring, lapping, munching, sucking, probing with tongue and fingers. I see myself as some ancient Conquistador looking for the headwaters of the Rio Grande, our local tributary out here. It will take a while, but sooner or later I may solve the mystery. Or die trying.

Sometimes I have gotten an assist from our collection of toys, in particular that subtly colored crystal cock we acquired in Soho about 2 years ago. Using it to probe as my tongue works Mistress’s clit always produces an interesting and delightful response.

Of course, my cock has a particular affection for these parts. Nothing feels better than her tight grip on it when I get the chance to take her the traditional way.

Since Mistress and I signed our contract, my relationship with her cunt has become more formalized and hierarchical. It has become “worship” and often occurs with me on my knees, her thighs pressed against my head, holding me close, or maybe draped over my shoulders clinging tight to the head that is stimulating her. When my hands are tied behind my back for this exercise, it’s all the more fun.

And of course, now I need an express invitation to fuck here, which often does not come until Mistress has toyed with my cock enough to assure that it is very hard to meet her exacting standards, and I am very, very desperate.

And before I am allowed to come inside those precious parts, I must ask permission. I need to be careful not to get too close before I make that request. That’s not as easy as it sounds.

Now that Mistress’s Dom, the enigmatic Sir M, has required her to keep her parts all clean shaven and tidy, my addiction seems to be even more intense.

It’s just a whole lot more fun to taste and toy with her in this hairless mode. My view is unimpeded, and what a view it is. Pink, fleshy bud protruding between somewhat darker fleshy lips.

The feel of it is now slick and soft, particularly when those juicies begin to leak. It’s hard for me to keep my hands off.

And the taste is all the sweeter without the fur to impair its flow to my taste buds.

Last night, after some time at a local bar, we sidled into bed against one another, with no plans for sexual engagement until morning. We had been pretty busy during that earlier siesta, after all.

But my hand had trouble staying to itself. It slid under her gauzy, pale green panties to remind myself of the treat that awaiting this morning.

“What are you up to, Slave?”

“Oh…nothing Mistress …. Just touching your smoothness.  Do you want me to moisturize?”

I was being impertinent, I know. But sometimes it’s just hard to resist.

“I’m sleepy, Slave. You can touch, but no stimulation.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

After a few soft and non-stimulating strokes, I withdrew my hand, in “good Slave” mode.

But now the moon is setting here, and the sun is beginning to light the eastern horizon, still hiding behind the sacred mountain.

Soon it will be time for my morning devotions.

"Mr. Wizard" Strikes Out.

Today is my Abstinence Day, which is fitting. Mistress has two acts of Slave misfeasance to consider, based on yesterday’s activities, and every reason to withhold privileges, at least until tomorrow.

Things started nicely. After I diligently slid my steel ring on yesterday morning, I was rewarded with the opportunity to pleasure Mistress’s naked cunt with my tongue and lips, and then make love to her.

She had been under the weather Monday evening (and was still a little sickly), but generously let me have my way with her. Slave gets so much sex that going almost 24 hours without an orgasm seems like a draught. So when I did reach my point of explosion, gripped tightly at the base of my balls by the steel ring….well…zounds.

“Thank, you, Mistress.”

“You’re welcome Slave. That seemed like a big one.”

“Oh yeah….”

Soon I was off to work, cage locked on tight. It was a beautiful day here, so I came home a bit early to fit in a bike ride before family (including grandkids) arrived for dinner.

Once home, Mistress unlocked my cage. (riding a bike with that lump of steel clinging to my crotch is …challenging, to say the least.). We changed onto our biking cloths and off we went.

After our 30 minute ride, I dived into dinner prep. Vegetarian red sauce for the pasta I had planned. Lots of chopping and sautéing. Then, just before our guests were to arrive, I went up to our room to change into something less sweaty.

Well readers, what was missing here?

When I got upstairs, Mistress was dressing too, in black panties and bra. It was 6:25. Guests arriving at 6:30.

I slid out of my biking shorts, reached for my jeans.

“Did you forget something, Slave?”

Oops.

“Weren’t you going to worship this afternoon?”

“Sorry, Mistress.”

I helped her slide down those silky black panties as she sat on our bed. I slid a pillow under my aging knees, and went to work.

“I probably deserve a punishment, don’t I Mistress?”

“I believe you do.”

I still haven’t taken for granted Mistress’s smooth new look. It seems to make her juices even sweeter. And as I enjoyed her flavors, she soon was bucking against my mouth, satisfied, at least for now.

Later that evening, after the guests were gone and we were in bed, watching the latest episode of “Damages”, I mentioned to Mistress the blog I had read earlier that day from our friend “strivingforpeace” at “Peacefully Submissive.” Here it is, in case you missed it. Peacefully Submissive- M#AF88F8

Her Master, the inventive, if elusive, Mr. C, had used both a crystal cock and a Magic Wand to induce a rather dramatic effect on his devoted (and cleverly eloquent) Sub. And since we had both of those tools of delight and torment (depending on one’s approach) readily available at bed side, it seemed only right to see if we could duplicate their experiment and get the same results.

After the episode was over, I switched off the TV, and turned to Mistress. We engaged in some vanilla-ish foreplay involving some kissing, nipple sucking and fingers exploring between Mistress’s firm, smooth thighs. The pump was primed.

I rolled over, made sure the Magic Wand (aka, power tool, or WMO) was plugged in and ready. Then I pulled the crystal cock out of its elegant box.

“What are you doing, Slave.”

“Remember, the “Wand meets Wand” experiment.”

She groaned.

“You’re crazy.”

“Just trying to find new ways to drive YOU crazy, Mistress.”

She settled back, legs spread (hardly a new pose for Mistress).

I slid down between those legs, using my tongue to very gently tease her clit, while probing with the hard crystal cock to find the proper angle of attack.

“I feel something cold down there, Slave.”

“Oh, it will warm up nicely.”

And it did. Soon the firm glass phallus with its little pink ribs was sliding very smoothly in and out of her damp opening, and her hips were rising to meet the tongue that was still focused on the lightest touch against her tender little nub of flesh.

She was getting close. It was now “Wand meets Wand” time.

I disengaged my tongue, rose a bit and reached to the floor for the motorized wand.

“Uhhhh, unfair. Now what, Slave?”

Mistress was not happy with the temporary hold I had placed on her pleasure.

But I quickly found the next instrument of torment, and switched it on.

Holding the crystal cock in place, buried deep inside. I pressed the churning white ball at the end of the Power Tool against the glass bulb protruding from Mistress’s succulent “tunnel of love”.

The result was supposed to be nirvana-esque, as the vibrations were channeled along and against the glass intruder parked deep inside her.

But, no big surprise here, the subject of my experiment is wired a little differently than our friend “strivingforpeace”.

Mistress was squirming all right, but not exactly writhing with pleasure.

“Not working for me, Slave. It feels like I am stuffed with too many things.”

I took the cue, slid the crystal cock out of her, and went to work with the power tool on her neatly shaved cock.

“Ummmmm. Much better Slave.”

Soon Mistress was coming with a moan of delight, and then reaching for my fleshy and firm human cock.

“Why don’t you fuck me now Slave”, Mistress whispered, her voice clouded with post-orgasmic content.

“Patience, Mistress.”

I have learned that the best orgasms are the ones pried from Mistress when she thinks she is done.

With a little more pressure of the power tool against her squirming hips, Mistress’s grip on me loosened, and soon her head was back against the pillow, and her thighs were squeezing the device for all it was worth.

One more orgasm.

“enough….”

I pretended I did not hear her.

But after the third one, I showed some “mercy”, and took up her invitation.

But now I think you understand why Mistress means business on this Abstinence Day.

(As for the experiment, my guess is that we missed a vital part: “strivingforpeace” was tightly bound spread eagle style to the bed in her “Wand meets Wand” scenario. I may have to try this again on our Swtich Day).

Deploying the Crystal.

Mistress’s photo of that upscale sex shop in Soho inspired me to reach for one of our favorite toys yesterday evening.

We had planned a bike ride, but it was raining out, so some indoors recreation made sense before feeding the surly teens.

Both of us relaxed on our bed, after a busy work day. I helped Mistress out of her black pants, then her silky black undies.

She already seemed aroused by the time my head slid between her legs, and my tongue darted out to get its first taste, since that morning’s “wake up” sex.

I made sure Mistress was squirming and juicy before sitting up and reaching for the elegant box that sits on the little table next to Slave’s side of the bed.

“What are you doing now, Slave?”, she asked a bit petulant about her interrupted service.

“Getting out the crystal cock”, Mistress.

“Ummm.  Haven’t used that I a while, Slave.”

No, we had not.

Since acquiring the Hitachi Magic Wand, we had been a little too reliant on its diabolical efficiency. In comparison,  the crystal cock is sort of like one of those old style hand cranked egg beaters lined up against a Waring Blender.

Pulling the drawer of the little box, where the crystal cock sits nestled in its little groove, I thought back to when we had acquired it. We were in the Big Apple in the Fall of 2008. Not long after our trip to Denver for the Democratic Convention. Mistress had a business trip, and I met her there. It was one of those beautiful early fall weeks when the heat had subsided, the sun was shining, and folks were still going to work at AIG and Lehman Bros.

We were still living a crazy commuter marriage and trying to re-group after my infidelity fuck-up. Our experiments in a Mistress/Slave relationship were just beginning. But the sex was very hot and we were on the market for accessories to make it even hotter.

We did a google search for sex shops and located Kiki de Montparnasse, a place that had been written up in the NYTimes a few months before. It’s always nice to have a “mission” on a trip to Soho. http://www.kikidm.com/shop/home.php

We have been in several shops over the years specializing in sex goodies and bondage equipment, But Kiki  stands out  for its high lux setting and displays,  and, of course, the high prices to go with it.  Yesterday’s blog shows its swanky window display. Inside is every bit as elegeant, with staff  decked out as if they were at Bonwit Teller. The tasteful lingerie was tempting to Mistress. And the accessories were even more amusing. Sterling Silver cock ring anyone?  Fine leather restraints? You can find all the goodies on the website.

We soon focused on the crystal phalluses. Some curved. Some straight. All with nuanced colorings and useful ribs. We adjourned later that evening to our Hotel room to try out our acquisition. I recall that Mistress was tied to the bed for the occasion. That was before she put me in my place.

But I digress.

Back in our bedroom, I slid back next to Mistress, crouching over her. And as my tongue teased her clit, I gently and slowly slid the crystal cock inside her. He hips seemed to rise to meet it as I began a gentle in and out, still licking, then sucking at the moist parts between her spread lips. A little additional upward pressure….Mistress was breathing harder now.

As compared to the power tool, the crystal cock takes a little more finesse, a little more time. It’s the difference between painting a portrait  and spray painting a wall. But things turn out the same in the end don’t they? Mistress ultimately succumbed to my manipulations, in a series of little explosions, her hips thrusting against the head parked between her legs.

“Good, Slave.”

“My pleasure, Mistress.”

I lay the crystal cock against her thigh, and took the picture above to share with you.