This week Mick and Molly met for drinks with a charming couple we “friended“ on fet life. They live across the river that our River City smacks up against, not too far away.
D and N moved here not long ago from out West, much to our consternation. Nothing like trading in 300 days a year of sunshine for the gloom of the heartland. But family called.
D, the male part of the couple, is the strong but seemingly laid back Dom. N is his cute and very feisty Slave. He’s a bit younger than Mick. She’s a bit younger than Molly.
Their FetLife page intrigued us. They are very much into the “Lifestyle”, wheras Mick and Molly keep all this stuff very private (unless you happen to read this crazy blog). They have posed for and posted lots of provocative photos: N's naked bottom glowing red; kinky costumes; various restraining devices; and plenty of implements of “punishment”. Interesting stuff.
Then there was D’s message to Molly, sent after he perused her posting and a bit of our blog:
“I am intrigued by the cuckold lifestyle. It wouldn’t work for me since sexually I am clearly Dominant. But the idea of tormenting some poor husband while his wife is made to serve is interesting.”
Mistress got back in touch, and we agreed to meet.
When we finally sat down with D and N in a local bistro, the real buzz was in actually talking about what we do and how we do it, face to face with real folks.
Mistress was a natural in taking charge, leading the conversation and “grilling” our new friends about their lives in the BDSM world. They seemed happy to share with us naive newbies.
Hearing Mistress call me her Slave outside the privacy of the bedroom, was … arousing. Calling her “Mistress” in public was a thrill.
They talked about how they met, some of the rules she must follow, and how they work their 24/7 relationship into their family and work life.
They told us about the public and private play parties that we have only speculated about. Interesting, though we are a bit hesitant to “go public” in what is a small town.
And they described the “secret” dungeon hidden behind some cabinets in their basement.
Mistress had me locked away in my cage, and when she talked about how we found it on line, and got the measurements right, my cock was twitching against the cold steel.
When we parted we agreed to meet again soon, and show them some of the attractions on our side of the River.
I think Molly was intrigued, and tempted, when D talked about his training in the arts of bondage and “impact play”, and the psychology of training and commanding a female slave.
Who knows … maybe someday D and N will give us a tour of their dungeon.
Friday, February 26, 2010
Thursday, February 25, 2010
The Day After
I woke up this morning, pressed against Mistress’s delightful bottom, my cock throbbing for her. Mistress was twitching about herself in her sleep, and the motion of her firm cheeks against me were getting me harder. Hmmm.
The fact that it was my deferred Abstinence Day was already troubling. Rather than press the point or wiggle away, I climbed out of bed, grabbed my laptop, and the steel ring of my cage and came downstairs to do my “homework”.
Before Mistress went off on her adventure with her new Dom on Tuesday, she spoke “Wife to Husband” to me for a few moments.
“You know I don’t have to do this. I don’t want you to wake up tomorrow morning angry at me.”
I gave her my assurances. Told her that I did not think that would be a problem. I wanted to honor my contract, and suspected that if anything, her adventure would bring us closer together and make me want her all the more.
But, truth be told, neither of us knew how we would feel once Mistress gave herself, no matter how briefly, to another.
Well, on the morning after, I let my cock do the thinking. And it was very much purpose driven. It was on a reclamation project. And fortunately, Mistress had given me a one day reprieve from my Abstinence Day obligations.
Mistress had shared some details: how after some talk and a description of his rules, she had been led to his bedroom and told “it was time” to submit to inspection.
She thought she would say “no” on this first private encounter, as he said was her right. But when the time came, he must have been persuasive. She described how she had slowly stripped for him, under his appraising eye, as he sat watching her. And how he required her to kneel to allow him to touch and stimulate her tits and nipples.
“Did that make you, wet, Mistress.”
“Yes. He commented on that.”
“How, Mistress?”
“He touched me there. Told me how wet I was.”
As I sat down here with my coffee yesterday morning, the hard steel ring collecting my cock and balls, those thoughts inspired my prose and had me up the stairs early. Mistress seemed impressed with when she reached for my cock and discovered how hard and determined it was to take her cunt back, at least for the time being.
It slid where his fingers and cock had been the night before. And by the time we were done, I believed my reclamation project had gotten off to a nice start.
When I got out of the shower, I presented myself to Mistress for her to secure the lock on my cage. She clicked the lock shut, then mentioned that she had received an email from her Sir.
“Did he seem happy with you, Mistress.”
“Yeah. Seems so. I forwarded it to you. Tell me what you think.”
As I ate my breakfast, I thumbed through my emails on my blackberry and found Sir’s message. He described how, like me, he woke in the morning with a cock that was full, with thoughts of his fingering and fucking my Mistress’s tight cunt. He asked whether she enjoyed tasting and touching his cock and balls. And whether she wanted him to take her again.
My own cock strained against its steel restraints. It might be a long day.
As I kissed Mistress goodbye, I asked whether she enjoyed knowing that two men had hard cocks for her this morning.
“It’s a nice thing, Slave.”
Mistress stopped by my office before lunch, before heading home after an early meeting. I was ready to devour her, and quickly pushed the chair against my door, laying the fleece blanket down to absorb our juices and kneeling. She must have been anxious too, because she had already pulled down her dark brown tights to give me access.
As my mouth worked away at her, I muttered a question that had been eating at me all morning.
“So did you respond to your friend’s email Mistress?”
“Yes”.
“And”.
“I told him I would like to see him again.”
Soon Mistress was coming bucking against my mouth. And when I looked up she had a very devilish look on her face, as if to say “aren’t you a desperate little Slave.”. Mistress has both the right and a canny ability to press her Slave’s buttons.
When I got home, the teens were off to visit their trainer, and Mistress was napping. She was tired. I lay down next to her and we rested together. Mistress commented that all those orgasms must haven taken their toll. I tried to sympathize.
She kept my cage on for our engagement later that evening: a first meeting with a charming and intriguing couple found through the crazy world of FetLIfe. (Will talk about that later this week).
We got home near 11, and on many such late “work night” evenings it might be natural for us to defer any sexual activity until the morning. But Mistress and I were both a little randy. All the talk we had shared with this couple about the “lifestyle”, and Mistress’s frank description of some of the otherwise hidden details of our life had put both of us in a serious state of arousal. And of course my imagination was still working overtime as a result of Mistress’s adventure.
Mistress instructed me to insert my probe, making me all the harder for her. The power tool was deployed, driving Mistress to full throttle. By the time we were done … well, I felt that my reclamation project was in full swing.
The fact that it was my deferred Abstinence Day was already troubling. Rather than press the point or wiggle away, I climbed out of bed, grabbed my laptop, and the steel ring of my cage and came downstairs to do my “homework”.
Before Mistress went off on her adventure with her new Dom on Tuesday, she spoke “Wife to Husband” to me for a few moments.
“You know I don’t have to do this. I don’t want you to wake up tomorrow morning angry at me.”
I gave her my assurances. Told her that I did not think that would be a problem. I wanted to honor my contract, and suspected that if anything, her adventure would bring us closer together and make me want her all the more.
But, truth be told, neither of us knew how we would feel once Mistress gave herself, no matter how briefly, to another.
Well, on the morning after, I let my cock do the thinking. And it was very much purpose driven. It was on a reclamation project. And fortunately, Mistress had given me a one day reprieve from my Abstinence Day obligations.
Mistress had shared some details: how after some talk and a description of his rules, she had been led to his bedroom and told “it was time” to submit to inspection.
She thought she would say “no” on this first private encounter, as he said was her right. But when the time came, he must have been persuasive. She described how she had slowly stripped for him, under his appraising eye, as he sat watching her. And how he required her to kneel to allow him to touch and stimulate her tits and nipples.
“Did that make you, wet, Mistress.”
“Yes. He commented on that.”
“How, Mistress?”
“He touched me there. Told me how wet I was.”
As I sat down here with my coffee yesterday morning, the hard steel ring collecting my cock and balls, those thoughts inspired my prose and had me up the stairs early. Mistress seemed impressed with when she reached for my cock and discovered how hard and determined it was to take her cunt back, at least for the time being.
It slid where his fingers and cock had been the night before. And by the time we were done, I believed my reclamation project had gotten off to a nice start.
When I got out of the shower, I presented myself to Mistress for her to secure the lock on my cage. She clicked the lock shut, then mentioned that she had received an email from her Sir.
“Did he seem happy with you, Mistress.”
“Yeah. Seems so. I forwarded it to you. Tell me what you think.”
As I ate my breakfast, I thumbed through my emails on my blackberry and found Sir’s message. He described how, like me, he woke in the morning with a cock that was full, with thoughts of his fingering and fucking my Mistress’s tight cunt. He asked whether she enjoyed tasting and touching his cock and balls. And whether she wanted him to take her again.
My own cock strained against its steel restraints. It might be a long day.
As I kissed Mistress goodbye, I asked whether she enjoyed knowing that two men had hard cocks for her this morning.
“It’s a nice thing, Slave.”
Mistress stopped by my office before lunch, before heading home after an early meeting. I was ready to devour her, and quickly pushed the chair against my door, laying the fleece blanket down to absorb our juices and kneeling. She must have been anxious too, because she had already pulled down her dark brown tights to give me access.
As my mouth worked away at her, I muttered a question that had been eating at me all morning.
“So did you respond to your friend’s email Mistress?”
“Yes”.
“And”.
“I told him I would like to see him again.”
Soon Mistress was coming bucking against my mouth. And when I looked up she had a very devilish look on her face, as if to say “aren’t you a desperate little Slave.”. Mistress has both the right and a canny ability to press her Slave’s buttons.
When I got home, the teens were off to visit their trainer, and Mistress was napping. She was tired. I lay down next to her and we rested together. Mistress commented that all those orgasms must haven taken their toll. I tried to sympathize.
She kept my cage on for our engagement later that evening: a first meeting with a charming and intriguing couple found through the crazy world of FetLIfe. (Will talk about that later this week).
We got home near 11, and on many such late “work night” evenings it might be natural for us to defer any sexual activity until the morning. But Mistress and I were both a little randy. All the talk we had shared with this couple about the “lifestyle”, and Mistress’s frank description of some of the otherwise hidden details of our life had put both of us in a serious state of arousal. And of course my imagination was still working overtime as a result of Mistress’s adventure.
Mistress instructed me to insert my probe, making me all the harder for her. The power tool was deployed, driving Mistress to full throttle. By the time we were done … well, I felt that my reclamation project was in full swing.
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Mistress Submits
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.
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.
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.
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