Yesterday was an …interesting ….(also a little scary, exciting, apprehensive) day for Mick and Molly.
If you have been following us for a while, you know that Mistress has been on a bit of a quest in a hit or miss sort of way: she has sought out someone to help her explore her sub side.
Of course, our contract gave her the right to seek out (or be sought by) other lovers. When the contract was signed, that was just a hypothetical possibility. But it only seemed right that when a Slave fully submits, he also surrenders any claim of exclusivity. I was happy to do that to show my devotion to my Mistress.
Once she acquired that right, it was only natural for Mistress’s eyes to open a bit. “Use it or lose it” may be a proper mantra.
So she has acquired more a bit of a roving eye over the last few months, and her Slave takes a perverted delight in hearing when someone catches that eye.
But of course, Mistress is particular. There was an initial cyber / phone flirtation with an old lover from College days, who lived a few hundred miles away. Mistress was willing. He got cold feet.
But their chats and e’s and texts opened Mistress to the concept of her own submission to what she referred to as a “Part Time Dom.” It was an itch that needed to be scratched, a concept to be explored.
We wrote up a “job description” and posted it here back in late November. (You can find it on MollyCollins at FetLife too). There were some contacts with a few folks, even an interview with someone who talked a bit bigger than he was prepared to act. Etc. Etc. Not much developed.
More recently, Mistress had engaged in a dialogue with someone who passed her initial screening test. They met last week for a drink and talk. Her comfort meter (and curiosity) gave her a green light.
Yesterday was the day that Mistress was persuaded by this prospective Dom to visit his home. They had met once She was apprehensive, but adventurous enough to take the bait.
His email suggesting how this first meeting might go was …provocative. Particularly the establishment of rules, the need for permission to come, and the “full body inspection” to make sure she met his standards.
Mistress balked a bit at that. But they agreed things would go slowly, at her comfort level. He was a Dom who knew that Mistress needed to jump, and could not be pushed.
All this had this Slave a bit on edge. The concept was exciting. Deep psychological stuff going on, but all this cuckold talk and my submission to Mistress has been incendiary for our sex life. Very very incendiary. But in practice….we both knew that could be tricky.
Mistress was very sensitive to this…. She did not want to proceed if it would create issues down the road. But our open discussions (hopefully) gave her reassurance. I was game for something that would give her pleasure, and would get my own psychic and physical “reward” afterwards, as she shared any sordid details she decided to share with me.
I was to be locked in my cage as the day unfolded. As Mistress engaged with her new Dom she could reflect on my cock locked away until she chose to release it. And no matter how frustrated I became at the thought of what Mistress was up to, I could not handle myself without her key.
When she stopped by my office yesterday around noontime, I devoured her as she sat in her throne. When she had her fill of my lips and tongue, Mistress has a very pleased look on her face. We clung to one another before I walked her to the elevator. She was off on her adventure….
Her new Sir had instructed her on a recommended outfit….short skirt, no panties or tights. Blouse without bra. But Mistress is pretty strong willed (this could be a problem down the road), and it being 40 degrees or so here yesterday, bare legs were out of the question as far as she was concerned.
When she called while on her way (she had shared the directions with me for security purposes), she described her outfit, which was one of my favorites: short dark brown cashmere dress, dark brown tights, brown suede boots. Very hot. She had primped and he would not be disappointed. Argh.
Mistress texted me when she arrived.
“Here. Yikes”.
My response: “Good luck. Desperate for U, Mistress.”
And I was.
I was nervous too. She seemed to be in good, if firm hands. We had done some vetting. But still….
As the afternoon turned to evening, I was increasingly anxious, and as aroused as the cage would allow. I fed the teens, trying to focus on their chat about their “boring” day at school. I assembled and broke down all those documents needed for our tax return (an anti-aphrodisiac if there ever was one). I watched some women’s bob sledding. Things designed to keep my imagination from wandering.
There must have been a break in the “action” at some point. Mistress texted.
“I am fine. See you around 9 Slave.”
I was dying of curiosity, responding impertinently:
“Wet?”
20 or so minutes passed. No word. I figured she was off in sub land again, maybe getting fucked silly. Then a response:
“My Wonderful Slave… u will get to hear the whole sordid story when I get home to u”
Somehow, that made it seem better. I knew Mistress was safe and enjoying herself, as she should. But that she would be with me again soon. Very comforting.
She called on her way. But all I got was small talk.
“We’ll discuss when I get home, Slave.”
I could hear the tease in her voice. There was a story to share.
I put away my jumble of papers. Cleaned up the kitchen a bit. Those last 30 minutes seemed to take forever as I waited for her return.
When I saw her walking up the stairs, I took in my delicious Mistress – attired in the elegant and alluring outfit I described earlier. I pulled her to me. Her face seemed to delight in my devotion to her. Her smile betraying the secrets she would share.
Once we bid the teens good night, Mistress had me strip. I offered to kneel and worship, but she demurred, and we laid together on the bed. She unreeled the story slowly, frustratingly, toying with a very hard cock all the while.
And it was sordid.
Mistress had “succumbed”.
She had passed his inspection. And so much more.
And it seemed to please her very much.
And when the story was told, I undressed her, tasting what was left, then sliding into my incredibly tempting Mistress. As we made love I debriefed her further…deploying my cross examination techniques for some of the juicier details she had left out in her first narrative.
Oh my.
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Mistress gets a Taste of Her Own Medicine
Mistress woke Sunday morning after a long night’s sleep and called for her Slave. I was down stairs on my 2nd cup of coffee. Having completed my homework, I was working my way through the New York Times and the smutty blogs of our friends out there. But I always jump when called to duty, or face the consequences.
We read the papers in bed a bit, looking forward to a long bike ride with the temperature breaking into the 40’s.
But when it seemed Mistress was “in the mood” (as displayed by her reaching for my cock to confirm that I was unclothed and available to her), I rose and collected out little bag of restraint devices. It was our “Switch” day, and I was not going to pass up my chance to turn the tables on my Mistress, if only for an hour or so.
I pulled out some leather cuffs and buckled them onto her wrists, holding them together in front. While locks can be arranged, I know that Mistress will not try to make her escape without my permission. Then I affixed her wrists over her head with a leather strap tied to an eyebolt installed for this purpose.
Mistress relaxed into her bondage, and we kissed as I fondled her a bit, my thigh resting lazily over her hips. Soon I could sense her hips moving in their little dance of arousal.
But Mistress was not getting off so easily. I rolled her over onto her stomach, and used my hands to stroke her firm bottom. This attention only made her squirm more, and when I slipped my hands between her legs I discovered just how wet and aroused she was.
That’s when I began to spank her, slowly at first, then with increasing intensity. AS I did, I asked her to consider whether the new prospective Dom in her life would take the liberty of spanking her, as part of her training. She agreed that seems likely, and I could sense her imagination getting the better of her.
Mistress still refers to me as her Slave in these switch session. And that is probably for the best. She and I both need to know that she has the ultimate authority, including the right to pull the plug should I ever get out of hand, even when she is bound and at my mercy on a Sunday morning. But the thought of her losing that control to someone who does not recognize her authority, who, instead, demands her submission, seems to have a powerful effect on Mistress.
As I continued to spank her, I reached for out WMO (weapon of massive orgasm, the Hitachi Magic Wand). With one hand I slid it from behind, between her legs. With the other I continued the intermittent spanking. I was testing how Mistress would respond to the simultaneous application of pleasure and pain.
It was an inspiring experiment. The natural thing to do to cope with a spanking may be to try to relax those butt muscles as much as possible. But the pressure of the churning vibrator on Mistress’s cunt seemed to make her tense those muscles. Her thighs gripped it with a pressure designed to hold it firmly against her dampa and demanding parts. As I spanked her, she churned against the bed, determined to force the device to deliver her from both her frustration and the ongoing spanking. (This made me wonder how things would go with her ankles tied to corners of the bed, something to think of next Sunday?)
I knew she was getting close, so asked Mistress to consider whether her prospective Dom would allow her to come without permission.
“Probably not, Slave”, she admitted, rather distracted as she continued her frantic gyrations.
“Well why don’t we practice that, Mistress. I want you to ask me permission before you come”.
.It did not take Mistress much longer to drive herself to that point where she sought my permission.
“May I come , Slave.”
(A silly question, really . Though I had to imagine what would happen if someone said “not yet” to her.)
“Of course, Mistress.”
With the “all clear”, Mistress came with a sudden and explosive force, humping against the vibrator and the bed, crying out into her pillow. And with that I was merciful, and stopped the spanking, letting her relax.
Mistress was not freed until I had my own very satisfying way with her. But even in switch mode, I can’t help asking for my own permission to come, without any prompting.
I guess that’s why I am the Slave.
We read the papers in bed a bit, looking forward to a long bike ride with the temperature breaking into the 40’s.
But when it seemed Mistress was “in the mood” (as displayed by her reaching for my cock to confirm that I was unclothed and available to her), I rose and collected out little bag of restraint devices. It was our “Switch” day, and I was not going to pass up my chance to turn the tables on my Mistress, if only for an hour or so.
I pulled out some leather cuffs and buckled them onto her wrists, holding them together in front. While locks can be arranged, I know that Mistress will not try to make her escape without my permission. Then I affixed her wrists over her head with a leather strap tied to an eyebolt installed for this purpose.
Mistress relaxed into her bondage, and we kissed as I fondled her a bit, my thigh resting lazily over her hips. Soon I could sense her hips moving in their little dance of arousal.
But Mistress was not getting off so easily. I rolled her over onto her stomach, and used my hands to stroke her firm bottom. This attention only made her squirm more, and when I slipped my hands between her legs I discovered just how wet and aroused she was.
That’s when I began to spank her, slowly at first, then with increasing intensity. AS I did, I asked her to consider whether the new prospective Dom in her life would take the liberty of spanking her, as part of her training. She agreed that seems likely, and I could sense her imagination getting the better of her.
Mistress still refers to me as her Slave in these switch session. And that is probably for the best. She and I both need to know that she has the ultimate authority, including the right to pull the plug should I ever get out of hand, even when she is bound and at my mercy on a Sunday morning. But the thought of her losing that control to someone who does not recognize her authority, who, instead, demands her submission, seems to have a powerful effect on Mistress.
As I continued to spank her, I reached for out WMO (weapon of massive orgasm, the Hitachi Magic Wand). With one hand I slid it from behind, between her legs. With the other I continued the intermittent spanking. I was testing how Mistress would respond to the simultaneous application of pleasure and pain.
It was an inspiring experiment. The natural thing to do to cope with a spanking may be to try to relax those butt muscles as much as possible. But the pressure of the churning vibrator on Mistress’s cunt seemed to make her tense those muscles. Her thighs gripped it with a pressure designed to hold it firmly against her dampa and demanding parts. As I spanked her, she churned against the bed, determined to force the device to deliver her from both her frustration and the ongoing spanking. (This made me wonder how things would go with her ankles tied to corners of the bed, something to think of next Sunday?)
I knew she was getting close, so asked Mistress to consider whether her prospective Dom would allow her to come without permission.
“Probably not, Slave”, she admitted, rather distracted as she continued her frantic gyrations.
“Well why don’t we practice that, Mistress. I want you to ask me permission before you come”.
.It did not take Mistress much longer to drive herself to that point where she sought my permission.
“May I come , Slave.”
(A silly question, really . Though I had to imagine what would happen if someone said “not yet” to her.)
“Of course, Mistress.”
With the “all clear”, Mistress came with a sudden and explosive force, humping against the vibrator and the bed, crying out into her pillow. And with that I was merciful, and stopped the spanking, letting her relax.
Mistress was not freed until I had my own very satisfying way with her. But even in switch mode, I can’t help asking for my own permission to come, without any prompting.
I guess that’s why I am the Slave.
Monday, February 22, 2010
Our WMO
While we were away for our mini - Ski vacation we left a good number of our toys behind. So when we got back to River City, Slave was looking forward to deploying my favorite WMO (weapon of massive orgasm), the Hitachi Magic Wand to please Mistress.
Thursday evening, after the teens were fed and we settled into bed, Mistress decided it was time to release me from my stainless steel cage. We cuddled in bed. She kept on her black tights (whether because it was a chilly night, or because she knows rubbing against them drives me to distraction was unclear.) As directed, I was naked. Mistress likes my cock and balls available to her without encumbrance.
We cuddled, kissed, stroked and fondled a bit. I was already hard, the fabric of Mistress’s tights doing what she expected as my cock rubbed against her strong thighs. Mistress was getting a bit squirmy too, as she humped against the forearm that I had slid between her legs.
“Would you like me to get out the power tool Mistress?”, I asked, hopefully. I do like what it does to her.
“ No Slave. Your fingers are just fine.”
Well here is where the Slave misbehaved. Got what Mistress would call ‘passive aggressive’. While I continued to stoke Mistress’s fire, I must have been pulling my punches. She was aroused, getting more aroused, thrusting her hips all the harder against my hand….but not getting there. Poor Mistress.
“Hmmm….maybe I do want you to use the power tool on me Slave….”
Well certainly. It happened to be plugged in and ready next to the bed. I reached for it, turned it on. It’s earnest “hummm” evoked memories of the industrial age.
Mistress moaned a bit as I pressed it against her inner thigh. Her body arched to make better contact where it needed to be in her very distracted mind.
Feeling a little manipulative, I did not want to be cruel. I slowly and deliberately slid the churning white ball to the apex of Mistress’s black tighted thighs. She moaned even louder in gratification. But I was using a light hand. She needed more pressure. And to get it she squirmed and thrust, a faint sheen of sweat appearing in the delicious area between shoulder blade and nipple.
I teased a nipple with my lips and teeth. Mistress grunted, her hips gyrating in heightened desperation.
“Slide my tights down Slave,” she whispered through her heavy breathing, hips still writhing to press harder against the throbbing bulb. “I want to feel it on my skin.”
I liked the desperation in her command.
And I was happy to comply. By now I was getting a bit desperate too.
Once the tights were down and off decided to show mercy. I pressed the Wand hard against Mistress exactly where she wanted it to be. Her greedy thighs grabbed onto it hard, as if she was afraid I might have second thoughts.
At this point, Mistress seems possessed. Her hands come down to re-enforce my grip, making sure I do not ease off. She presses with all her remaining energy against it, her knees rising from the bed, as if she is trying to wrap her body around the device that is taking her to some other dimension.
Mistress’s whole body convulses as she falls over the edge, with a series of moans of impressive intensity. Then she collapses back, her body finally relaxing, but taking a while for her breathing to return to a normal rhythm.
I settle back with her, turning off my WMO, satisfied with a job well done. But very hard for her too.
Fortunately, Mistress always rewards a job well done. Well, almost alway
Thursday evening, after the teens were fed and we settled into bed, Mistress decided it was time to release me from my stainless steel cage. We cuddled in bed. She kept on her black tights (whether because it was a chilly night, or because she knows rubbing against them drives me to distraction was unclear.) As directed, I was naked. Mistress likes my cock and balls available to her without encumbrance.
We cuddled, kissed, stroked and fondled a bit. I was already hard, the fabric of Mistress’s tights doing what she expected as my cock rubbed against her strong thighs. Mistress was getting a bit squirmy too, as she humped against the forearm that I had slid between her legs.
“Would you like me to get out the power tool Mistress?”, I asked, hopefully. I do like what it does to her.
“ No Slave. Your fingers are just fine.”
Well here is where the Slave misbehaved. Got what Mistress would call ‘passive aggressive’. While I continued to stoke Mistress’s fire, I must have been pulling my punches. She was aroused, getting more aroused, thrusting her hips all the harder against my hand….but not getting there. Poor Mistress.
“Hmmm….maybe I do want you to use the power tool on me Slave….”
Well certainly. It happened to be plugged in and ready next to the bed. I reached for it, turned it on. It’s earnest “hummm” evoked memories of the industrial age.
Mistress moaned a bit as I pressed it against her inner thigh. Her body arched to make better contact where it needed to be in her very distracted mind.
Feeling a little manipulative, I did not want to be cruel. I slowly and deliberately slid the churning white ball to the apex of Mistress’s black tighted thighs. She moaned even louder in gratification. But I was using a light hand. She needed more pressure. And to get it she squirmed and thrust, a faint sheen of sweat appearing in the delicious area between shoulder blade and nipple.
I teased a nipple with my lips and teeth. Mistress grunted, her hips gyrating in heightened desperation.
“Slide my tights down Slave,” she whispered through her heavy breathing, hips still writhing to press harder against the throbbing bulb. “I want to feel it on my skin.”
I liked the desperation in her command.
And I was happy to comply. By now I was getting a bit desperate too.
Once the tights were down and off decided to show mercy. I pressed the Wand hard against Mistress exactly where she wanted it to be. Her greedy thighs grabbed onto it hard, as if she was afraid I might have second thoughts.
At this point, Mistress seems possessed. Her hands come down to re-enforce my grip, making sure I do not ease off. She presses with all her remaining energy against it, her knees rising from the bed, as if she is trying to wrap her body around the device that is taking her to some other dimension.
Mistress’s whole body convulses as she falls over the edge, with a series of moans of impressive intensity. Then she collapses back, her body finally relaxing, but taking a while for her breathing to return to a normal rhythm.
I settle back with her, turning off my WMO, satisfied with a job well done. But very hard for her too.
Fortunately, Mistress always rewards a job well done. Well, almost alway
Sunday, February 21, 2010
Lighter Fluid
Because we have been sharing some fiction these last few days, readers may think that Mick and Molly have been slackers in the sex department. But as it turns out, we have been as crazy and compulsive as ever in our inability to suppress our sexual appetites.
We returned from our little mini-break late Tuesday night, tired from the Delta shuffle, and confronted by too much graying snow on the ground, and a house laid waste by surly teens in our absence. I lost track counting the empty pizza boxes.
That did dampen the fire a bit, and when I woke up Wednesday morning, realizing it was Abstinence Day, I knew I would have to keep my mind on other things to make it through the day.
But Mistress did not feel a need to co-operate. I donned my cage that morning, as she requires. The cold metal ring squeezing at the base of my balls was something I had not missed over our long weekend. But it is a nice reminder of my status. And it’s good to know Mistress cares enough to police me this way.
She was back at work too, and after a meeting downtown, she stopped by for some worship. After all, it had been, by then, a bit more than 24 hours for her as well.
And I was happy to please her. She took her place in her “throne”, an upholstered chair pressed against the closed door. And I took my place on my knees, sliding those alluring black tights down to her boot tops, making just enough room for my head to slide between her strong thighs.
By the time she had her fill of my lips and tongue, she seemed refreshed. But all I had to show for it was a very wet face and a cock straining against stainless steel, reminding me that I still had another 18 hours to go.
Mistress was worshiped again that evening. And while she released me from my cage, I was required to wait for more complete release until morning.
When I finally had a chance to take her on Thursday morning, about 48 hours had passed since my last opportunity to come. (I know, for some of you out there, that hardly seems like a sacrifice, but Mistress has me hooked and after only 24 hours ugly withdrawal symptoms rear their head, like Vladimir Putin winging it over Wasilla, Alaska).
The steel ring gripped my swollen balls and cock as Mistress consented to my request to fuck her, making my ultimate explosion … profound.
“Oh my, Slave. That was … impressive.”
Indeed.
After that Thursday morning parole, Mistress locked me away again, and it was off to work.
But what had me on edge through Thursday was knowing that Mistress had a first engagement that afternoon with someone … another man. In this case, she was meeting for a drink a prospective Dom who had contacted Molly after reading our postings.
Our “Contract” (reprinted in the early days of this blog), provides that Mistress has certain privileges that her Slave does not. They include the right to take other lovers, including other slaves. And her rights include her ability to submit to a Dom or Domme, as she chooses.
Now however this develops, what happens between Mistress and others is their business, and not for me to share (unless instructed to do so, of course).
But it’s hard not to comment on how these types of developments impact her Slave in this little world of ours. And, truth be told, Mistress’s outside “interests” do tend to raise the temperature a bit in our bed.
Why that is may be complicated, and way above my psychoanalytical pay grade. But I can only say that when Mistress’s fires are being stoked by the talents of someone in addition to just little old me, she becomes even hotter than her usual, extraordinary hotness. And that makes me even hotter for her. It’s like spraying a bit more lighter fluid on some already glowing coals. Wooosh!
Maybe someday we will get over this condition, but what’s the rush.
So by Thursday evening, when Mistress returned home from her introductory “date”, me still locked away in my cage, I was pretty desperate for my opportunity to worship her.
She arrived home around 7 pm in a black wrap dress, cut in a way to show lots of those enticing legs in their black tights and boots.
Mistress settled onto the bed, with that “cat that ate the canary” look. Things must have gone well, I surmised.
I knelt, and helped Mistress remove her boots, taking her fragrant toes into my mouth, massaging them with my fingers, then working my way up her thighs.
When I pulled her tights down, just low enough to slide my head between her thighs, I could tell Mistress was already quite aroused. I had to wonder how long that had been going on. Hmmm.
Mistress squirmed hard against my mouth, and soon came with a series of moans, and bucks against my probing tongue. It seemed like a series of satisfying quakes before she gently pushed my head away.
“Enough Slave”, she said with a loving smile, rubbing her fingers through my hair. A contented Mistress is my prime directive.
“Looks like you will have to wait until after dinner though…”
Her fingers reached down to settle on the hard contours of my steel cage.
“Let’s just leave this on for a while, until I am ready for you.”
Argh.
“That’s your call, Mistress.”
“Of course it is.”
We returned from our little mini-break late Tuesday night, tired from the Delta shuffle, and confronted by too much graying snow on the ground, and a house laid waste by surly teens in our absence. I lost track counting the empty pizza boxes.
That did dampen the fire a bit, and when I woke up Wednesday morning, realizing it was Abstinence Day, I knew I would have to keep my mind on other things to make it through the day.
But Mistress did not feel a need to co-operate. I donned my cage that morning, as she requires. The cold metal ring squeezing at the base of my balls was something I had not missed over our long weekend. But it is a nice reminder of my status. And it’s good to know Mistress cares enough to police me this way.
She was back at work too, and after a meeting downtown, she stopped by for some worship. After all, it had been, by then, a bit more than 24 hours for her as well.
And I was happy to please her. She took her place in her “throne”, an upholstered chair pressed against the closed door. And I took my place on my knees, sliding those alluring black tights down to her boot tops, making just enough room for my head to slide between her strong thighs.
By the time she had her fill of my lips and tongue, she seemed refreshed. But all I had to show for it was a very wet face and a cock straining against stainless steel, reminding me that I still had another 18 hours to go.
Mistress was worshiped again that evening. And while she released me from my cage, I was required to wait for more complete release until morning.
When I finally had a chance to take her on Thursday morning, about 48 hours had passed since my last opportunity to come. (I know, for some of you out there, that hardly seems like a sacrifice, but Mistress has me hooked and after only 24 hours ugly withdrawal symptoms rear their head, like Vladimir Putin winging it over Wasilla, Alaska).
The steel ring gripped my swollen balls and cock as Mistress consented to my request to fuck her, making my ultimate explosion … profound.
“Oh my, Slave. That was … impressive.”
Indeed.
After that Thursday morning parole, Mistress locked me away again, and it was off to work.
But what had me on edge through Thursday was knowing that Mistress had a first engagement that afternoon with someone … another man. In this case, she was meeting for a drink a prospective Dom who had contacted Molly after reading our postings.
Our “Contract” (reprinted in the early days of this blog), provides that Mistress has certain privileges that her Slave does not. They include the right to take other lovers, including other slaves. And her rights include her ability to submit to a Dom or Domme, as she chooses.
Now however this develops, what happens between Mistress and others is their business, and not for me to share (unless instructed to do so, of course).
But it’s hard not to comment on how these types of developments impact her Slave in this little world of ours. And, truth be told, Mistress’s outside “interests” do tend to raise the temperature a bit in our bed.
Why that is may be complicated, and way above my psychoanalytical pay grade. But I can only say that when Mistress’s fires are being stoked by the talents of someone in addition to just little old me, she becomes even hotter than her usual, extraordinary hotness. And that makes me even hotter for her. It’s like spraying a bit more lighter fluid on some already glowing coals. Wooosh!
Maybe someday we will get over this condition, but what’s the rush.
So by Thursday evening, when Mistress returned home from her introductory “date”, me still locked away in my cage, I was pretty desperate for my opportunity to worship her.
She arrived home around 7 pm in a black wrap dress, cut in a way to show lots of those enticing legs in their black tights and boots.
Mistress settled onto the bed, with that “cat that ate the canary” look. Things must have gone well, I surmised.
I knelt, and helped Mistress remove her boots, taking her fragrant toes into my mouth, massaging them with my fingers, then working my way up her thighs.
When I pulled her tights down, just low enough to slide my head between her thighs, I could tell Mistress was already quite aroused. I had to wonder how long that had been going on. Hmmm.
Mistress squirmed hard against my mouth, and soon came with a series of moans, and bucks against my probing tongue. It seemed like a series of satisfying quakes before she gently pushed my head away.
“Enough Slave”, she said with a loving smile, rubbing her fingers through my hair. A contented Mistress is my prime directive.
“Looks like you will have to wait until after dinner though…”
Her fingers reached down to settle on the hard contours of my steel cage.
“Let’s just leave this on for a while, until I am ready for you.”
Argh.
“That’s your call, Mistress.”
“Of course it is.”
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