No conventional posting today. Too busy this last night and this morning assisting a surly teen get ready for an American History Exam. Fun to refresh myself on the likes of Martin Van Buren and the Battle of Saratoga. So just a quicky posting for our reader(s)...
Last night I came to bed late (see excuse above), crawled into bed, snuggled up to Mistress and zoned out. (Don't worry we did get in a bike ride and some healthy worship time earlier in the evening.)
At some point during the night I woke up and looked at Mistress. She was laying on her back , hands over her head, wrists crossed (no there were no little red cuffs, this photo was taken a few Sundays back when I got my "switch" time with her). Her legs were spread too, knees out, almost as if her ankles had been crossed and tied. Yum.
Truth be told, I was a bit horny, and was tempted to put one hand over her wrists to hold her in place, using the other hand to prime her with some well placed strokes of my fingers until she began to squirm, before taking her as she awoke from the deep sleep.
But seeing how deeply she was snoozing, and considering my roll as her Slave, I passed on the opportunity. Mistress does deserve her beauty rest, and I knew that my privileges would be restored in the morning. Patience, Mick.
But I did wonder what Mistress was dreaming about, or what she was mentally dwelling on as she voluntarily assumed that rather submissive position. Was she contemplating being tied and taken at the hands of some imaginary, mysterious Dom?
When I asked her that question this morning, she gave me one of those "know your place, Slave" looks, and declined to answer. Interesting....
Both of us seemed to be paying the price on Sunday for a little too much holiday spirits on Saturday evening.
Of course, my biggest problem was not enough sleep. As recounted in yesterday’s correspondence, I was left semi-hard and longing all night, still in that damned cock ring, after you elected to crash at the end of an evening when my fires had been stoked so intensively. Of course, that was a Mistress’s prerogative.
So I did not wait long to come upstairs on Sunday morning, after I heard you up and about. It was my switch day, and I was anxious to take my prize. I knew that you were too groggy for any play that might be especially elaborate. And, quite frankly, I was too much in need of release to take the time for the type of long, toying conquest that I like to devise when it’s my weekly turn. So I elected to take you quickly, in a more conventional way.
As has become our routine, you read over my posting - the one on our blog with the photos - as I used my lips and tongue on your ripe cunt, buried under the covers.
I could hear you laugh at my words of desperation as I enjoyed the taste of the juices that I had been longing for all that sleepless night. And once you put the computer down it was not long before you came.
Next was my turn, and I slid into you with a sigh of satisfaction. Then took my time to savor what I had missed the night before, holding your arms above your head until we both came one more time.
It was still early and we faded into a bit of sleep, trying to shed the lethargy brought on by our late night.
We had originally discussed delaying our “switch” scene until the afternoon, but it became apparent that my cock had only been partly satisfied, as it had grown somewhat rigid simply pressed against your bottom as we tried to go back to sleep.
After some consultation, we decided to go for it. Maybe you were hoping that a few more orgasms would clear your head. But Mistress does not easily surrender command (at least not to this Slave), so the limit you placed was “just don’t make me get out of bed”.
I can work with that, and knew that your limits were set at a lower bar that morning.
I locked on the red cuffs, and affixed them together, in front, and then to the little eye screw I had placed at the top of the bed. I secured your ankles close together with those black leather restraints, then made you roll over onto your stomach. I began with a slow massage of your back and neck, before proceeding to your bottom, which wiggled to my touch.
As I helped you relax and give up control, I talked a bit about the emails you had received Saturday night from the would-be Dom. He suggested that you quickly get through the Q/A phase so that your training could begin. I wondered what sort of training he had in mind, speculating that it might be psychological conditioning, planting little triggers about how you should address him, the way he would condition you to respond to his voice commands, etc. This all seemed to arouse, you, Mistress.
Then I proceeded to a slow but extended spanking. Nothing too cruel. Not like last Sunday when I tested your bottom’s limits. Just enough to let you contemplate submission, if not to me, than to that hypothetical needle in the haystack who could find and press all your dark, needy sub side buttons. And of course, the spanks were interrupted from time to time to allow my hand to explore your soaking cunt. You do like these little sessions, don’t you, Mistress?
When I felt you were in the right frame of mind, and got out our new “power tool”, the magic wand. It is a bit loud and over the top, but it seems to get you where you like to be.
I particularly enjoy teasing you with it. So after applying it to neck, lower back, and bottom, to help relieve the tensions built by your spanking, I slid it between your cheeks and enjoyed the way the indirect vibrations applied to your most sensitive parts made your hips pump slowly, then harder and harder into the bed.
No, I am not thinking “A Christmas Carol”. Though we heard more than a few last night. I was thinking “Tale of Two Cities”, as in “The best of times and the worst of times.” But really more “satisfying times and frustrating times.”
Saturday started more than satisfying. I woke to do my homework, then came up to bed, after letting you sleep in a bit. By then I was so horny after writing about my punishment that we skipped the reading part (and that embarrassing picture of my striped bottom you required me to post), and moved directly to the satisfying Mistress (and me) part. Which was very, very nice…only after that did you check out our posting and that picture.
We had a bracing bike ride on the hills of our little town in the cold December air. Then I was off to do my penance with some family business.
When I got home, you directed me upstairs, and told me to undress. I could see you in the bathroom, fumbling with your strap-on, which got me abuzz instantly. We lay on the bed together, kissing, fondling and talking smut, until I was quite hard and you were primed as well. You applied the proper quantity of lubricant (see the photo, no promotional consideration provided by J & J).
You told me to position myself, and I did, laying there with a pillow propping my ass up just a bit. Ready for you.
You have gotten increasingly skilled at turning me into a quivering hunk of Slave this way, Mistress. You needed no help in finding your mark, and slid into me gently at first, filling me in a way that made my cock even harder as it pressed against the bed beneath me.
But soon your thrusts were increasing in tempo and I could hear your own breathing matching my level of excitement. I felt and heard you come against me once, then twice, and then you rested against me, before extracting your dildo from my well taken ass. When you stood to take off your harness, you told me to insert my little white probe and return to fuck you properly. And of course I did, only taking my satisfaction after making sure you came again, this time with me inside you.
By the time we were done, we were both exhausted and napped a while before leaving our bed to light the candles and get ready for our evening out.
I had been told to wear my cock ring, something you know frustrates me on our nights out. Its always a bit of a pain to squeeze my balls through, one at a time, then smush my cock in to join them. When properly applied, the ring gathers my cock and balls in a little package, which you seem to admire, and like to tease.
I enjoyed watching you dress in your delicious black dress, layered over with a silk covering in red and black. Underneath was that skimpy green thong, and then the black tights and boots that I am hooked on. More Goddess than Domme tonight, but sure to catch the eyes of the gentlemen we would encounter. See some pictures of Mistress getting ready and on the town in this posting.
First there was an annual holiday party at our friends’ home, one we had not been to in several years because of our travels. It was good to see all these folks, and nice to miss one person we both wanted to avoid. But we had other plans. By 9 we were heading to that romantic bar we love, overlooking our River town, for some dancing.
On our drive you seemed focused on your magic phone, scrolling through an email from some mysterious person. The smile on your face and your furious finger tipped typing of a response made me curious. I asked whether this was a would be Dom, and you just gave me the coy “mind your own business, Slave”, look.
But then you read a bit to me, repeating some words that I had written myself, about the type of man who would require you to address him as “Sir” or “Master”, to whom you might surrender that tight control of yours.
Whoever this correspondent was, he had seemed to crack the code, and I could see you squirm a bit. This made me all the more anxious to slide my hand between your thighs as we completed our drive, and in return, you brushed your hand gently over my ringed cock.
The trouble (or delight) of that tight cock ring is that once the blood pumps through to the “package”, it does not easily escape. So from that point until now, my cock has been semi-hard and tingling.
I left you at the door and parked the car. You texted me before I arrived that I had better hurray in, since several men had asked for the seat you had saved for me. No doubt. You were the loveliest woman in the room, and seemed to be spewing pheromones at an increasing rate after perusing your emails.
We sat together at the Bar, enjoying the dramatic views and the people watching. As the little combo and vocalist worked through their book of standards and jazzy versions of Christmas tunes, we rose for an occasional dance. To that old Nat King Cole Christmas chestnut we swayed and clung to one another, my hand stroking your luscious bottom through that silken dress, and you kissing me with abandon, oblivious to the glances of the blue haired ladies at tables clustering the dance floor.
When we sat between dances, you enjoyed teasing me with a few quick reviews of newly arrived emails. “Should I send him a picture?” you asked. Of course this got me squirming even more. I wonder if the folks at the bar noticed my hand caressing your thighs through the fabric of your tights as you typed your response.
It was time to go. I needed you. And it was then you admitted that you had a drink more than your normal limit. We walked to the car, and I suggested you lay back, and imagine that this hypothetical Master was driving you home, not your Slave. I commanded you to spread your legs, and as my hand touched you there, I discovered you were sopping wet. Soaked clear through your undies and tights. The incendiary emails had found their target. Soon the car was filled with the scent of your arousal as my hand gently stroked you, and you sighed and squirmed against my hand.
Here is the frustrating part. By the time we got home it was clear that my slightly tipsy Mistress was in need of sleep, not my cock. Soon you were naked and out like a light next to me. Though you did have the presence of mind to instruct me to keep my cock ring on until morning.
Ouch. I would suggest that my male reader try sleeping next to a sexy Mistress such as mine, cock and balls confined that way, after an evening of such exquisite anticipation.
Mistress, I am glad you are sleeping well upstairs as I type away down here, dark and rainy outside . But every time I rolled over into you last night, and smelled or brushed against your skin; and every time you rolled over into me, your thighs pressing against my bottom, your breasts against my back, my cock tingled and thickened just a little more.
Several times last night, I considered ignoring your command and taking off this damn ring, but did not want to be a disobedient Slave. So I am just a tired and frustrated day. Glad today is not a "schhol day". Plan on napping with you later. After resolving some unfinished business.
Maybe this was your plan all along for our Saturday night?, Rather than indulge me the way you usually do, you connived to deny and frustrate me? If so, it worked.
Now I am just waiting, impatiently, until sunrise, when our Sunday switch begins. Pent up demand could make me particularly demanding this morning, Mistress.
Yesterday afternoon, I got what I deserved. The photographic evidence is down below in this entry. Be warned. Proceed no further if you don’t want to see the reddened bottom of a guy in his late 50’s.
It had been a while since Mistress had exercised her contractual right to punish me. And there were some grounds for punishment that had accrued over the last few weeks.
I had been locked away in my cage through the day. The evening before, Mistress made it clear that she would use the riding crop on me at the end of the work day, and encouraged me to get home early.
Through the day I had the scent of my Mistress on my hands, from the moments before I left for work, when Mistress had allowed me to slide my hands through her cunt and bring her to orgasm as she sat at our kitchen’s breakfast bar. That scent, and the tight hug of her cage kept me on edge through the day as I anticipated what she had in store.
When I got home, Mistress was in our bedroom, finishing up some work on her computer. She told me to strip.
Mistress was wearing black panties and matching bra, and allowed me to hug her from behind and kiss her neck as she stood in our room, in front of a mirror hanging over the table where she sits to arrange her hair or makeup. As I pressed against her from behind, my cock stirred in its cage.
Breaking our hug, she instructed me to lay on the bed, face down. “I don’t want to bother tying you up now. You are just going to have to hold still for me.” I lay there for a few minutes, waiting for her next move. She took her time, finishing some work, building my anticipation, before she approached me, riding crop in hand.
“There are a few things you are being punished for”, Mistress said as she applied three quick, hard blows to my ass.
Ouch. Did I really think this was a good idea only a few minutes ago? Mistress recited a list of familiar grievances: my whining about my evening commute to our lovely but distant neighborhood; bringing up the name of a former cyber lover who is dead to her now; making her beg to come the night before as I played with our new toy, the magic wand, etc. As each grievance was described, three or four more blows landed, each one seemingly more painful than the last.
I muffled my desire to verbally express my discomfort by biting hard into the pillow under my head. My ass and legs jumped as the blows landed, and each one seemed to add to the sting of the last. It hurt. And I was ashamed that it was so hard for me to stay still on the bed. Certainly being tied down would have been easier for me, but I suppose Mistress did not want to make it easy for me.
All the while I became conscious that my cock was still locked in its cage. Why was it straining against the hard plastic at the same time my ass was on fire?
You were warned. Here is that photo (the humiliation of posting it seems worse punishment than the cropping I took, BTW):
At some point I lost track of the blows that landed. Maybe only 20 in all by the time Mistress was done with me. I was determined not to ask her to stop, or beg for mercy. I knew I deserved whatever Mistress had decided to dish out.
When she was done, Mistress took her photo, then lay down next to me, gently rubbing my bottom. While it was still tingling, the pain quickly subsided and I enjoyed her gentle touch.
I was still caged, and knew that I would need to worship her and bring her release before I was released. So I knelt on the floor next to her bed and she spread her legs for me.
After my punishment, I felt especially slave like, so kneeling and tasting her was particularly rewarding. I took my time at it, as she reclined back on the bed, enjoying my attention.
After she had her fill of my tongue, she unlocked my cage, and my cock sprung from its restraint, ready for her. And soon she allowed me to enjoy the reward it was seeking.
Later we dressed, and joined some friends for dinner in our old, City neighborhood. I could not help notice the special attention the male half of the couple seemed to be paying to my lovely Mistress. And through dinner, my ass was still tingling a bit, a constant reminder of Mistress’s authority. When our friend mentioned to hassle of the heavy traffic commuting to our new neighborhood, I simply said “No comment. I get punished if I complain”. Mistress smiled.
