Last post I mentioned one of Mistress's first cuckolding bootie calls. The one where she was asked to do a little extra grooming. She got carried away, and has sported clean shaven folds ever since.
His other directive?
"He wants me to bring a pair of handcuffs, slave."
Hmmm. We had long dabbled in bondage. We had some equipment of our own. Still do. Cuffs, collars, crops. In our pre-cuckolding days, Mistress was usually the "victim" of such toys. And though we've shifted the axis of our relationship since then, the bdsm toys have remained in a duffel bag tucked into a corner of our closet. I suppose we should find an excuse to dust them off.
Going back to that "directive". . . we stopped by a local army / navy store and picked up a simple pair of handcuffs before Mistress went to her first meet up with this gentleman.
She had made clear to me, and to him, that during this first get together, at his home in the 'burbs, there would be no sex. This was a "get to know you" arrangement, she said, and clearly intended.
To set the right tone, Mistress did not overdue her outfit. Sure she had sexy, silky undies. But it was jeans and a less revealing top. Nothing too provocative, it seemed as she set out early on a Friday evening.
Mistress was off the radar for several hours. I stayed busy at home, caged of course, probably making dinner for at least one of our daughters, who were in high school at the time.
It was around 11:30, maybe midnight, when Mistress came home. A tad disheveled. Of course, I was curious. But resisted my lawerly urge to cross examine.
"Long evening, slave."
"And how did it go. Did you use those handcuffs?"
She was undressing, using our bathroom to go through her re-sleep routines.
"Definitely", she remarked, focused on her image in the bathroom mirror, then sliding into a slinky nightie.
As she settled into bed, I offered to provide some post-date worship.
"Are you sure? It's a little sticky down there, slave."
"Oh?"
"Yeah. We got a little carried away."
As she spread her legs in our bed, and I dipped ian eager tongue into what was clearly well used if cleanly groomed folds, she provided the following narrative:
After sharing a beverage on his patio, they adjourned to his bedroom. So much for a simple getting to know you first meeting.
"He told me to strip, slave."
"And you did?"
"I did. He just sat there on the bed, and watched me."
"Sounds hot."
"It was." She let out a slight moan, possibly from my gentle oral ministrations. But also, maybe, from the recall of being inspected for the first time by a new partner as she did her slow reveal.
"Then?"
He stood, walked to me, cuffs in his hands. He touched me. gently. Somehow I ended up with my hands cuffed, behind my back."
As I slowly brought Mistress to a gentle cum, I could taste the residue of what her new lover had left behind. The story got a little disjointed, and my memory has faded over the years about all the details. But she "submitted" to some robust sex in his bed that evening. And before she left, after she was dressed to leave, a chaser back out on his patio.
"I was on my knees, slave. He was ready to go again. He wanted my mouth."
Apparently he got it.
My work done, Mistress was soon sound asleep.
As for me, I recall that it wasn't until morning that Mistress found the key to my cage.
There's plenty of snow on the ground here, a big change since our last visit a few weeks back. And the ski slopes await us today. But yesterday we elected to do little of consequence and just enjoy some time here alone.
Of course, there was some cuddly wake-up sex. Then Mistress decided to join in a local Yoga session, just down the road at a former grade school now community center.
After I collected her (we wouldn't want her to catch a chill by walking), we picked out some new light fixtures from a local potter in the neighborhood, then called an electrician he recommended.
Amazingly, the electrician answered the phone and offered to come over and look at the project in an hour! This is a genuine rarity in a laid back community where "manana" is a watch cry, and the radio ad for one service provider ends with a bold promise: "We show up!"
Slave had just built a fire, and Mistress had switched to her nightie and was reading under a warm blanket on our couch. But with the electrician promising to come it presented a scheduling challenge:
"Sex now, Slave.... or do we wait until he's done?"
Of course, Mistress and Slave do not use "manana" as our watch cry, so we headed into the remote executive suite and engaged in some more raucous sex, which sent us both off to dreamland. Luckily I woke and struggled into my jeans just before the electrician arrived.
It turned our he couldn't do the work just then, but says he'll be back Monday. Hopefully we'll get fair warning!
One thing the local paper runs is a weekly summary of amusing "Police Blotter" reports - ranging from the comic to the bizzarre - with a year end summary. I saw the attached promo in this week's edition, which leads me to conclude that there are some latent kinksters out here in the high desert too:
The fine print reads:
October 20, 2012
4:30 pm. Miscellaneous, Civic Plaza Drive -- Caller reported that he was "playing around with his wife" and he couldn't get the handcuffs off. Caller requested to borrow the keys from the police.
An intriguing dynamic in the Collins household these days is Mistress’s fascination with and incendiary turn on by the idea of her own submission, even as she wants to maintain a tight grip on her husband as Slave. My past misdeeds do not qualify me for the role of Master. She believes I need to be kept on a short leash.
And although I do believe I can be trusted, I must admit I get that little cock twitch whenever she asserts her rights as Mistress. Examples: being told to insert my little white probe as she did before we had sex last night; or when she gently pumps my cock and makes me beg for the privilege of fucking her. She likes to tease, and she makes me her little groveling puppy whenever she does it.
But Mistress clearly gets off on the idea of obeying the sexual demands of a strong male asserting his rights to her sexy little body. And darned if that does not get me off too.
This morning our blog-stress colleague SFP talked about failing to follow Mr. C’s orders to go to the bedroom, strip and stretch out on the bed. Was she looking for a firmer hand? Or was it an inadvertent miscue?
In any event, that’s not an order Molly would have much trouble following. Last week during her visit to Sir M he told her to go upstairs and strip for him while he attended to some tasks down there. She was happy to talk to me about it, knowing it would only make me want her more:
“And did you follow that order, Mistress?”
“Of course, Slave …. “
I imagined her sliding out of her black dress, panties and bra, folding them neatly over a chair and then reclining in the bed. He probably had left the handcuffs and blindfold out for her to see and anticipate. I imagined her heart racing a bit, anticipating. And her cunt beginning to flood.
“What was it like waiting for him, Mistress? Were you turned on?
“Yes, Slave, of course….”
And I can imagine her there, on his bed, posed in just the right way to entice him, make his cock twitch, the moment he enters the room. It’s the type of tease designed to make him use his hands and cock to take charge and use that sexy body in the ways he sees fit.
I can tell Mistress also has also been teasing Western Correspondent. But it’s a different type of tease than I get.
It’s a tease that demands a firm hand to correct. She’s taunting him to take charge, to make her call him “Sir”, and make her submit to his directives. Over the phone for now. But with the promise of more when they get the chance to meet. And I suspect that M will know just how to handle her when and if he gets the chance.
When Mistress visited me at my office yesterday she had a surprise.
She had an early conference call that morning. So I knew that I was unlikely to get the privilege of fucking her. Instead, I slid under the sheets as she read yesterday morning’s entry, and proceeded to please her with my tongue.
I really can’t get enough of that particularly sweet taste now that her Dom requires her to go hairless. So this was as much for my benefit as hers. And when she put down the laptop, and focused on what I was up to, it did not take her long to go over the top and take her pleasure, bucking against my devouring mouth.
But then she was up and to the showers.
“Sorry, Slave….”
“No problem Mistress. I’m a big boy. I think I can wait until this evening.”
Later as I took my shower, my mind drifted back to our morning’s activity, some of the things she had mentioned about her evening earlier this week with her Dom, and my cock began to thicken….argh.
I touched it - one long stroke - and it was …. needy. But I knew better. It took some will power to remind myself that I no longer had permission for such things. I tried to mentally focus on more mundane matters – the meeting with a client I had scheduled. Soon things were back under control.
By the time we were driving to work, and Mistress’s crossed ankles and naked feet were stretched out onto the dash, with my hand resting high on her soft and freshly moisturized thigh, I was beginning to regret my impressive self-discipline. It would be a long day. I mentioned to Mistress that I was a more than a bit horny for her.
“Oh…poor Slave. (can you hear the playful sarcasm).You will just have to wait.”
A well manicured finger slid oh so lightly across my pants, just below the belt line. And like some foolish rodent out of a Pavlovian experiment, I was jerking to attention.
But that was all from Mistress fingers. She wisely let me focus on my driving duties.
Mistress made it a little harder for me just before lunch time.
She stopped by for some worship between meetings, and the ritual changed a bit. I placed her throne against the door (there is no lock), but before she slid her black panties down, she reached for my belt.
“Huh?”
“You said you were horny, Slave…remember.”
Soon my pants and underwear were around my ankles, and Mistress was leaning over, her mouth open and taking in my cock.
“Is this how he makes you perform, Mistress?”
Mistress’s lips parted long enough to mumbling an assent.
I was imagining her naked, seated on his bed, and him presenting a cock for her ministrations. And of course by now, mine was hard and longing.
But it’s hard for me to focus on such things in my office. I was all dressed up in my blue suit, dress shirt and tie, to attend a civic leader’s funeral that afternoon.
So when Mistress suggested we clear my desk and that I take her there and then, I reluctantly demurred.
Was it the commotion in the hallway or the unlocked door? Or was I just too fussy about messing up my funeral costume with all that sweat and goop sure to be generated? It had me a little too angsty to perform for her.
Mistress laughed at my reluctance.
“Don’t say I didn’t offer, Slave.”
She gave me a rain check.
Hopefully her feelings were not hurt. Instead She spread her legs, slid down her panties and I knelt there for her, my pants still at my ankles. My cock still firm, but knowing I would have to wait until later.
After lunch, and before I headed to the funeral, I got an email from out western correspondent, M. Mistress had clearly texted him about my foolish decision. (She does like to tease M, as much as he enjoys teasing her.)
“Mick, I’m shocked ….propriety at last. Molly said she asked you to fuck her but you didn’t want to get messy. I’m Shocked. Very funny.”
Now I had let down both Mistress and our most devoted fan. Though I must say it gave me a buzz to think of Mistress sharing my refusal to perform with her partner in flirtation.
But there is a happy ending. We came home to an empty house, and after a nice sweaty bike ride, had some nice sweaty time in bed before dinner.
And later, after dinner and an episode of the Pacific, I could not help but ask for permission to taste Mistress one more time. And my tasting led to a firm cock, which she pumped with her hand until my pitiful whimpering and begging made her sympathetic to my pleas to fuck her one more time.
And as we fucked, I took the opportunity for a little more Q and A from her Tuesday evening with Sir M:
“I forgot to mention in the blog the other day that once he had you handcuffed and blindfolded , lying there on his bed, he fed you his cock…”
“Yes, I noticed that Slave….why didn’t you mention that?”
“I think I got lost in the narrative…. But was that a surprise when he did that?”
”Yes….with the blindfold, it was hard to tell what would happen next.”
“was he holding your arms down, over your head.”
“Ummmm ….yes Slave.”
How did that make you feel, Mistress.”
“Controlled ….very submissive.”
“And did it turn you on….to have that cock filling your mouth?”
“Yes Slave…it did.”
“And were his fingers buried in your cunt as you sucked his cock, Mistress?”
My thrusts were quickening now, and Mistress was getting close to another climax.
“Yes, Slave…he was playing with me … with his fingers …. as I sucked him.”
“And did he make you come that way, as you pleasured him with your mouth, Mistress.”
“Yes ….I did …Slave ….he made me come that way.”
I surmised that there was no begging involved, her mouth full and all, and soon my pumping had her over the top, and then me begging for my own permission.
Mistress is better at dates than I am. She’s a Democrat but has a memory like an Elephant/Republican.
Yesterday she reminded me it was the 22nd anniversary of our first sexual encounter (well she put it less delicately). Now that is an interesting story, worth sharing with all of our readers sometime. And what is the most stunning fact is that we are still at it, hotter and with more frequency than ever.
And no, despite Mistress’s sleek and youthful appearance, as documented by the attached photo taken during our Sunday session, I was not violating any laws about sex with minors that evening 22 years ago….
But I know from the howls of outrage we heard from at least one reader yesterday, you want to know what happened the other evening with Mistress and her Dom. Indeed, yesterday morning, as I used my mouth to pleasure Molly, and she read the blog, she laughed a bit at the abrupt ending …
“Ah, a cliffhanger.”
And when our western correspondent, M, called her on her dreary ride to the state capitol (yet again) yesterday morning, he pumped her for details. She simply put it off to me. Apparently she did not want to scoop this morning’s entry.
So let me pick up where I left off….
Mistress had a long day. The drive to and from our flat state capitol, then her delayed engagement with her Dom. But when she finally got home, around 10 pm or so, she seemed, well, refreshed. And very sexy in a black business dress, naked but nicely tanned legs, with stylish black pumps.
And she had that well fucked smile on her as she allowed me to greet her with a hig and a kiss.
Upstairs in our room, she was kind enough to offer to unlock my cage before doing all those preparations a glamorous sex goddess must do before hitting the pillow.
And that was a relief, in and of itself. Once freed of the ring and the metal enclosure, my cock began some stretching exercises of it’ own with little more than the stimulation that came from the night’s imaginations and the image of Mistress shedding that black dress.
In fact, she asked me to help her unzip, and I was happy to, letting my lips caress her back as I slowly ran the zipper down.
“Did he help you with this earlier, Mistress?”
“No Slave, I had to do it myself when he asked me to strip for him.”
But Mistress had warned me that morning…
“I think by the time I get home I am going to be too tired for sex, Slave. So be patient and be prepared to wait until morning.”
I figured I could handle that, but by now I was not so sure.
After what seemed like an hour, but was only a matter of minutes, Mistress settled into bed. I folded up against her, trying to avoid the potential frustration of pressing my hardening cock against her flanks. A finger settled on the clean shaven, and still a bit moist parts between her legs. Ah, she was back to me.
And she knew what I wanted to hear, the sordid details of her evening out.
She had that coy smile again.
“Well he used the handcuffs, Slave. And the blindfold.”
Argh.
I try to be cool on these occassions, and not immediately unleash a barrage of questions. Quite frankly, I don’t want to appear desperate for the details, or make Mistress feel that she can’t cling to the inherent mystery that naturally enshrouds any intimate relationship between two people.
But I do like the details (apparently some of our readers do as well). So I go about it slowly, like some horny Columbo, without the trench coat.
“I know you are tired, Mistress. But can I simply taste your cunt. I like to see if it tastes …different.”
Of course, what I meant is ‘can I taste the remnants of your Dom’s fingers and cock on you.’
“You may, Slave.”
I settled in between her legs, tongue gently probing, sliding across her delicate parts.
“Do I taste different, Slave?”
“Some…”
“How, Slave.”
“Oh, a little ..used…a bit gamier…like you have had some sex, then got dressed and came home to me, Mistress.”
Of course, there was no reason for her to wash away the evidence, was there.
Mistress reached down to feel my hard cock. And of course it was frustratingly hard. I simply squirmed and let out a pathetic moan as her fingers slowly trailed along the length of it.
“Oh, poor Slave. I will let you fuck me, but I may not be too energetic.”
My pathos had worked. And of course by now I would have been happy to fuck her if she was passed out.
Luckily she was still awake, and could answer a few more questions as I mounted her and took my time to fuck her properly.
“Did he kiss you when you arrived, Mistress?”
“Yes, Slave. He always does.”
“And how does he handle you with that kiss?”
“Well his hands roam Slave. To my breasts. My cunt. He really likes my breasts.”
“And does that turn you on Mistress? Does it make you wet?”
She giggles a bit, as I slide against her.
“What do you think, Slave?”
As I continued to slowly take my pleasure from Mistress, she filled in more details in response to my questions…he fixed her a drink, and let her come down from her long day with some small talk and a tour of his yard project….but then it was down to business.
“And then, Mistress?”
He told me to go upstairs and strip for him, Slave. That he would join me in a few moments and expected me to be prepared for him.”
“And you followed his orders?”
“Of course, Slave.”
“And did you call him ‘Sir’?”.
“Yes Slave. What else would I call him?”
By now I was getting impatient, in several ways. I wanted to hear the story. I also wanted to come…but I needed to put the breaks on the latter until the story was done.
“And so he joined you in the bedroom?
“Yes, I was ready for him. Naked.”
“Did he appreciate that naked cunt he requires?”
“Well he really didn’t mention it. I think he’s used to it.”
And what happened next, Mistress?”
“The handcuffs, Slave. And the Blindfold.”
“How did he put on the cuffs, Mistress? In front? In back?”
In front. He had me lay on the bed then, my hands over my head.”
She described how he used his fingers to explore her body, as one hand held her hands over her head.
“He squeezed and sucked my nipples, Slave. He loves my breasts. He made me come with his hand ….”
And as she squirmed under me, and as I pumped into her, I imagined my Mistress, controlled, writhing, and submitting to this other man’s desires.
It was about then that I asked Mistress for permission to come. I really could not hold off any longer. And she generously consented. No doubt she was a bit tired of being fucked, so my explosive release probably came as a relief to her too.
And as we came down, Mistress in my arms, she finished the story for me. She described how he fucked her after a good bit of teasing and frustration, her legs over his shoulders.
“Did he keep the cuffs on you, Mistress?”
“Yes, Slave. He did for a while.”
“How did that feel Mistress?”
“Good Slave. Like I was his prisoner. “
“I am surprised he didn’t decide to keep you.”
She just shivered. Cuddling closer to me. I was glad she had her adventure, and even even more delighted that she had come home to me.
One of a Slave’s roles should be to make his Mistress’s life a little easier. A Slave should try to take off her plate some of life’s petty inconveniences. And now that Molly is back to a full time office job, the spare time she used to have has been slashed.
It’s typical that I assist with the cooking and make sure I am the one to clean the kitchen when we are done with dinner. Unloading the dishwasher along with the more manly tasks of grass mowing and other yard work is also on my plate.
But lately I have been asked to take on some more personal tasks. So Sunday night, as we watched the return of the Tudors (will that guy ever run out of wives?), Mistress spread her thighs and I applied the cream designed to remove any accumulating stubble, front, and then back. I let the cream sit for 10 minutes or so, cleaned it off with a warm cloth, then applied a nice coating of cocoanut cream to moisten and soften things up for her. The result was rather smooth and delightful. She had to chastise me a bit when those moisturizing fingers seemed intent on getting a response.
“I think my cunt has had enough stimulation today, Slave.”
Well of course….but it’s hard to resist Mistress.”
The fact that this “naked cunt” development came to us as a requirement of Sir M makes the whole task all the more Slavish and compelling, don’t you think?
Then yesterday, I was asked to take on a new role for Mistress: personal shopper.
When Mistress met me at the end of the work day for our ride home, She told me about a call she received.
“The Dom called Slave. He confirmed we are on for Wednesday night.”
“Good. Now you will have something to do while I am out of town, Mistress.”
“But he asked me to do something you might be amused by, Slave.”
My ears perked up.
“He told me to go to that adult store downtown, and get some handcuffs and a blind fold.”
So I surmised his training of my Mistress is cranking it up a notch. Gulp.
“And what did you say, Mistress?”
“That I was busy at work, but….”
“That maybe you could get your Slave to handle this task?”
She smiled.
“What a wonderful idea, Slave. You are very helpful.”
Last night I found a pair of handcuffs we had used in a prior life (pre-contract certainly). They are functioning well (though I am concerned about the potential for bruising Mistress’s lovely wrists). Mistress now has them stowed in her purse for her next meeting with Sir M.
Before lunch today, I wandered over to River City’s downtown “adult” boutique and found a faux leather blindfold, for Mistress to take along too.
I will give it to Mistress when she stops over for some worship this afternoon. Her new job has been a little stressful – lots of balls in the air – so I am sure she can use a little stress relief therapy.
