These last few weeks, Molly and Mick have done something never experienced over 20 years together: ride to and from work together. In the past we commuted in different directions. And for several years the commute built up a whole lot of frequent flyer miles.
But now we work just a few blocks from one another in River City’s “seen better days” downtown.
As you would expect, Slave drives. Mistress lounges feet up on the dash, checking emails and twitter. Updating her calendar. And more recently, texting our Western correspondent, and her new “Master”, M.
Yesterday, on the way home, Mistress brought me up to date on their latest mutual fantasy. And I guess I share a bit of the blame for planting the seed of this one.
The sequence as this developed went something like this:
Earlier this week, in an effort to entice M and B to meet us over July 4th on our undisclosed Mountain location, Mistress suggested some hiking would be on the agenda.
By email to both of them, I tossed on the following image:
Molly nude, hands tied behind her, leather collar, leash, tevas. M holding the leash.
M worked this into a more fully developed fantasy – which I assume had played a role in some of their phone sex, and Mistress’s outrageously horny demeanor these last few days.
On the drive home last night, Mistress scrolled through her emails and summarized some bits of it.
“He would take us to a trail head with no cars. Then, in the parking lot, he would have me strip, Slave.”
“Yes, that’s how I suggested things would start, Mistress….guess I am a little crazy.”
“No, Slave. Glad you have such a twisted imagination.”
“And then?”
“I told him that it would be fine with me naked. I don’t burn easily.”
It’s true, Mistress has a very dark complexion. She and Barack could be siblings.
“But he would be careful about that. He said he would slather me with sunscreen before we hit the trail.”
I imagined Mistress bent over the hood of the car, M’s fingers smearing a nice coating of Number 15 in places not likely to get too much ultra violet rays. Unless she was staked out in a grassy meadow somewhere.
“And then, Mistress?”
“He’d stash my cloths in a backpack, other than my shoes. I could wear those.”
“Did he mention a leash.”
“No, Slave. But the thought of that …. Ummmm.”
“What else, Mistress?”
“He said that as we hiked he would use me whenever he wanted. However he wanted. Wherever he wanted.”
“Did that make you horny, Mistress?”
“What do you think, Slave?”
With that she reached across the console, her hand landing between my legs. She liked what she found.
‘Seems like the story has a similar effect on you, Slave.”
The evidence spoke for itself.
She picked up her I-phone and snapped the photo above. Then she texted it off to M.
As previously noted, Mistress is a tease.
