Mistress's Trifecta

Yesterday, “UnderContract’s” Western Kinky Affairs Correspondent, M, reported to us on a special event where Masters and Mistresses were recently found hiding in plain sight. We thought we would share some of M’s incisive reportage:

“The rodeo was a blast today. What a kinkster’s delight. There are about 7 different arenas. Huge area. Show horses, jumping, equestrian, western, auctions, everything.

They let the public walk about everywhere in the paddocks, among the livestock, horses running around everywhere. There are beautiful women riding horses everywhere in jodhpurs, black boots, spurs, helmets, riding crops, urging their mounts around, and the horses are incredibly beautiful too.!

Men too Molly, dressed the same, with tight stretch pants, showing their cocks out lined, black boots, spurs and riding crops, riding their mounts with grace and charm, but strictly controlling them. A lot of the riders were British, French or German. Obviously wealthy (to fly their horses from Europe). Lots of D/s dynamics. Both the men and the women had minions tending to their horses. There were horse showers all around and the helpers where washing the horses while the riders lounged on folding chairs with their feet up. One British guy was talking on his cell phone while a very attractive lady shined his boots as he tapped his thigh with a riding crop! Cocky, arrogant, men and women. But HOT.

I watched one lady ride in a practice arena for about 10 minutes. She was stunning, riding a huge stallion with a big swinging cock. She was a haughty, arrogant woman, and controlled that horse completely. Very cool, very hot. I got several looks from B for ogling the sexy asses of some of the female riders. However, B liked it too, very much. She liked the cowboys with their tight jeans and chaps. They had big bulges by their crotches where the chaps pushed them out! Very kinky. B and I like the Renaissance Fair (kinky people there too) but this was much better. If you guys ever get the chance to go to a top flight equestrian show you should do it. Molly you could definitely find your type of Dom there. Very classy, dominant men there.”

(Mick and Molly welcome other guest reporters lurking out there. Share your experiences. We do not pay Newspaper Guild wages though.)

While M was enjoying the kinky world of equestrian Doms and Dommes, and fantasizing about what might be done with all those riding crops, back in the Midwest, Molly did not have a large mammal between her legs, unless you count me.

Molly was showered with a trifecta of attention from her Slave yesterday…..

At mid-afternoon she strolled into my office for some worship. As she say in her “throne” she recounted the business meeting she attended while I knelt before her, head buried between her legs, enjoying the taste of the juices that flowed through those black tights. Once I pulled them down to her boot tops, there was just enough room for my mouth between spread thighs. When she came with a stifled moan, her head clunked back against the door, making me wonder what my neighboring colleagues thought Mick and Molly were doing. Because I had on my steel cage, I could only contemplate what it would be like for Molly to return the favor.

I got home after work to find Molly dutifully preparing dinner. Once the chili was simmering in the pot, we adjourned to our bedroom. Mistress let me help her out of her dress, and I was soon on my knees again, making sure that Mistress was pleased enough with my attention to earn release from my cage. But Mistress had some emails to answer. Though my cock was now free, I was told that my pleasure would have to wait until after dinner.

Once the teens were fed, Slave was relegated to assisting the senior surly with a take home American History exam. I had to reacquaint myself with the reconstruction era, and the grounds for Andrew Johnson’s impeachment (firing War Secretary Stanton), before finally being able to join Mistress in bed.

Since she had already had the benefit of my tongue twice today, she deserved something more to make me worthy of my own release. I asked for permission to insert my little white probe, that assures a particularly hard cock. Then I pulled out our “Magic Wand”, which seemed to make Mistress’s eyes light up. We cuddled and kissed for a while until both of us were more than in the mood. Then the Wand was switched to the low position. Mistress commented on how loud that sucker is, but I noted that the sound is deadened a bit when it is squeezed between two anxious thighs.

I held Mistress close to me, kissing her, as my hand snaked behind her, sliding the wand between her cheeks so that it rested somewhere between her two little orifices. Its deep vibrations were more than enough to make my owner squirm and twist against me, and her frustration began to build as it became clear that I was in no hurray. When her fingers tried to find my hardened cock I was able to evade them. I wanted to see how desperate I could make her, not the reverse.

“Are you deliberately trying to frustrate me, Slave?”, she asked, mounting impatience in her voice.

“Of course”, I responded. One has to be honest with his Mistress.

As her hips began to squirm even more to find better contact with the tool resting between her thighs, I decided to be merciful and turned her over, face up on the bed, giving me better access to her hard nipples. They tasted so good between my lips and teeth.

With her head thrown back, and her sounds turning all the more animalistic and demanding, I asked her to imagine what it would be like tied to a suitable Dom’s bed, with him teasing/torturing her like this, but withholding permission to come. Making her beg for it. This only seemed to drive Mistress to further distraction.

Varying the pressure of the Wand on the junction between her thighs, I brought Mistress to the verge and back several times. By now her hands had found my cock and her gentle squeezes and caresses began to take their toll. So I expedited the process by applying the churning tool more firmly against her, to Mistress’s gratification. I pressed her against the bed with the weight of my body as she came with sobs and tears, then begged me to fuck her.

By now I was more than desperate myself, and she seemed pleased with how hard my cock was as I held it deep inside her, letting our hips do the work that led Mistress over the top one more time. When I finally was given permission to come it was with an with the special intensity that comes only after a full day of denial and devotion.

Today is Slave’s Abstinence Day. So I will keep last night’s explosion in mind as I “offer it up” for the next 24 hours.

Pleasure Precedes Evening Out

Mistress swept into my office yesterday afternoon around 4:30. It was a day off for our staff, but Slave had work to do.  So Mistress’s arrival was a welcome break from a quiet if busy day.

We had arranged to meet at my office before two evening engagements: a political event with our Governor, and then a museum opening with one of Mistress’s clients.

Molly was elegantly attired in the flowing dress shown in the photo, finished with her winter time uniform of black tights and boots.

Muy Mistressy!

Fortunately, her busy schedule allowed just enough time for worship. I was not allowed to kiss her lips because she had perfectly applied her lipstick for our evening’s activities. But I was allowed to bury my face between her thighs.

I pressed the chair against the door, dropped a downy blanket onto the seat (I have noticed a growing stain on the upholstery in recent weeks), and fell to my knees. My cock hardened as I took my time rubbing my face and mouth along the inside of her thighs until I could taste her juices begin to flow through the panel at the apex of her thighs.  Then I asked permission to pull her tights down. No undies obstructed me, as my mouth moved in to taste and tease her. But soon she was jerking her hips against me, stifling a moan as she came.  As I looked up I saw the delightfully contented face of a well pleasured Mistress smiling smugly down at her Slave.

There was no time for Slave’s pleasure until we arrived home late last night. But at the political event at a stately home overlooking the River,  I could still taste Mistress on my mouth and lips as we chatted with the Gov about his upcoming election campaign.  And of course I enjoyed the envious glances of the political class who still can’t believe that old Mick still has such a lovely Molly on his arm after all these years.

Back in River City

Mick and Molly are back in River City after their quick but busy wedding weekend in the Windy City. I am back to my work day routine, up early, the steel ring already surrounding my cock and balls, doing my homework, and looking forward to some time between the sheets with my Mistress before heading off to work.

Yesterday involved a brunch with the wedding party and that long slow drive across the heartland that always seems longer on the return. With the teens on board it was hard to get too salacious, even though their ears were tuned to their i-pods.

On our drive, Mistress did trade some emails with one of our followers, M, who has been encouraging her to take a firmer hand with her Slave. That is prrobably good advice. It’s nice to compare notes with some fellow travelers. If any of you are lurking out there who want to share or comment, we love that and welcome you to the table.

When we arrived home and unpacked, Mistress showed me the long shoehorn she lad liberated from our Hotel suite (the entry on Saturday shows it laying across my bottom). She draped it over the chair right next to the bed so it is handy for any punishment emergency. It is much more unobtrusive than the riding crop discretely tucked away in our closet. Or the Hitachi Magic Wand still plugged in at bedside when we arrived home. Wonder what the cleaning lady thought of that?

Seeing the shoehorn reminded me that I had failed to mention to our reader(s) the punishment I received Saturday afternoon, when Mistress had a brief break from all of her Maid of Honor duties. Slave had some time to himself, and spent it on a walk along the crowded Avenue of Shopaholics, before returning to read the new book “Game Change” (In his spare time, Slave is a political junkie.) Expecting Mistress’s return, I did my reading naked so she would have full access to me. This always pleases her.

Mistress came back to the room for a rest and saw the shoehorn, still laying next to the bed. She could not resist demanding that her Naked Slave roll over and present his ass for punishment. As she thwacked me firmly, she pointed out that I had not been attentive enough to her at the Rehearsal dinner the night before. She did not like it that a few times she looked up during a conversation I was not standing next to her, being attentive, deferential and adoring. And there was one time when a cousin asked her if she needed her drink freshened before I did.

All points well taken. Hopefully I did better that night at the wedding reception. At least if I did not, I have not yet heard about it. But with the shoehorn so close at hand, it may just be a matter of time.

A reddened butt does have a tendency to focus a Slave’s attention. And when Mistress was finished, she used the shoehorn to prod me over onto my back, and then poke at my already hardening cock until its dimensions pleased her.

By then she had stripped away her jeans and allowed me to worship at the delicious and flowing juncture of her thighs. The little whimpers I was able to induce with my tongue and lips made me feel that I had redeemed myself. But as I licked I heard her rustle and then she said. “Let’s get a picture of this”. Her I-phone made that little faux click and she snapped away. Hopefully she will approve of the cropped version that shows a bit of her luxuriant fur.

Mistress Gives Marital Advice

Mick and Molly wandered back from the wedding of the decade around midnight. It seemed like one of those nights where the tired adventurers would take a pass: a long day of photos, polite chatter, open bars and food, food, food. 

The surly teens were already tucked away on their half of the hotel suite.  Mistress removed her well fitted maid of honor dress, likely never to see the light of day again.

Slave stripped away the Tux, bow tie, dress shirt, studs and links. All that was left was the tight hard plastic cock ring Mistress had instructed him to put on much, much earlier in the day.

The cock ring had not been particularly bothersome through the day’s events.  A crowd that featured lots of women of undetermined age with colored hair who tithe to their plastic surgeons had not been a source of stimulation. And Mistress was required to be charming to all those long lost and now aging cousins and high school friends who showed for the big event.  She had no time to taunt or tease her Slave.

The only veiled reference to our peculiar relationship was one that Mistress made to a male cousin, about her age, concerning marriage: “After all these years, we have learned that marriage only works when one partner takes charge. Don’t you agree Mick?”, she asked. “Of course”, I replied. The cousin seemed to think that Mistress meant her older, grayer husband was the Boss. But I set him straight by commenting, without a drip of sarcasm, “I live to serve her.” He seemed confused.

By now, Mistress was down to the nude panty hose she had worn under her wedding costume. I am one who enjoys the feel and texture of the silky nylon encasing a woman’s legs.  But then Mistress pointed to a unique feature. “I discovered this earlier tonite, Slave. There is an opening where your cock goes….” Obviously, I was intrigued. She offered to sleep in them for our morning time play. Who was I to object?

The lights out, we rolled toward each other in bed. Mistress acknowledged she was tired and a bit tipsy. And I had no plans for anything other than the sleep of the dead. But Mistress’s tricked out pantyhose and my now tightening cock ring conspired against our initial intentions.

It started with my semi-innocent desire to feel the opening she had pointed out. As my fingers found, then lingered within her soft folds, it was obvious that Mistress was responsive, her hips making those involuntary squirms and shuffles that found a rhythm with the fingers sliding against her.

At first I pulled away, my curiosity satisfied. Mistress seemed cool with that, and sleep was tempting. There would always be morning, only a few hours away.

But that’s where the ring came in. My cock had hardened some as I explored Mistress’s cunning opening. Once hard, the ring conspired to keep it that way, the blood trapped by the ring that seemed to get tighter by the minute. There was only on way to resolve that problem.

Mistress was on her tummy now, restless but seemingly committed to sleep. I slid on top of her, and she was amused by the hard cock pressed against the crack of her well contained ass. My fingers squirmed beneath her and she responded nicely, soon rolling over and giving me permission to enter. ‘But you will have to do the work tonite, Slave.” Soon she expressed her pleasure with how hard my cock had become with no effort of her own.

It was a snap to find the opening in her hose and slide inside. As we fucked away I tried to raise her temperature a bit by talking about her quest for a part time Dom. She conceded in her passion that her body responds to the idea of being taken by another with a firm hand, someone who will firmly train her to please him, and treat her like the little slut she sometimes longs to be. These concessions were made in a voice laden with so much heat that I was grateful our suite was protected by a sprinkler system.

At some point she demanded that I roll over. The woman who had seemed so ready for sleep minutes earlier was a tigress now, taking her pleasure from me as she pounded her cunt onto my throbbing, ringed cock and balls. It hurt a bit, but Mistress’s pleasure was the priority now. She came hard, gasping, sobbing, the tears flowing until she was exhausted and gave up, rolling over for me to use her as I saw fit.

Fatigue and the by now almost painfully tight ring demanded that I take a long slow road to my own release. When it came (with permission granted) it was in a series of spurts that had me groaning with  relief, and Mistress with gratitude that she could finally get some sleep.