Punished

Tuesday night this Slave went to a basketball game with some of my guy friends. It was a later night than normal, and a break from the “norm”. Mistress and Slave rarely spend a night away from one another these days. I am really not the “guys night out” sort of guy. No bowling shoes in my closet.

When I got home, things did not go well. Not worth going into the details but there was a miscommunication to blame. Maybe I was just around too much testosterone. But I did not show enough respect and affection for Mistress who had the right to expect me to say I missed her during a long day apart.

So instead of the session of worship and gratification I anticipated on the drive home, we ended up spooning and going off to sleep, a bit sulky.

Things were better in the morning though, and I was allowed to slide under the covers to satisfy Mistress. And she generously allowed me to fuck her, deferring our weekly Abstinence Day until today. She even visited me in the office that afternoon for some mid-day cunt lapping, as I reported in yesterday’s entry.

I got home yesterday evening around 6:30 pm, but for only a brief stop before we were out for a family birthday celebration, When I wandered into our bedroom, Mistress was lounging on the bed, laptop open.

And suddenly Mistress was a bit sterner. She clearly needed my attention. After I had pulled her tight black pants down, and worshipped her cunt for a while, Mistress unlocked my cage. But she was not done with me just yet.

“You were not very nice, last night, Slave”.

I acknowledged my fault, and expressed gratitude that she had let me off the hook so easily.

“Well, that was probably a mistake.”

“True, Mistress. You probably should taken charge when I got home from the game ….ordered me to worship you right then and there. That would have snapped me out of my bad attitude.”

“Maybe so … but sometimes Mistress is tired too. I shouldn’t have to go out of my way to make you be nice to me. You are going to get a spanking to help you remember how to behave the next time.”

My pants were still undone from the removal of my cage. I was ordered to pull them down, along with my underwear. Standing there, hands resting on her desk, I absorbed a series of blows from her favorite tool, that long shoehorn liberated from the 4 Seasons Hotel in the Windy City. And I made some noise. Ouch.

“Too loud, Slave. The girls …remember….”.

Our teens were down the hall, gussying up for the night’s party.

Mistress reached to her bedside table, then jammed something soft in my mouth, to help me “stifle”.. Then she was using her I-phone to snap this picture.

“Post that tomorrow, Slave. Those readers should be able to see how you get treated when you are bad.”. Humiliating.

Then she picked her weapon up again ….

“mmmmph.”

After she was done, I filed this experience away to guide me in the future.

HNT ( a little early): The Vue

This Slave woke up a little groggy this am, for no particular reason. So my writing muse did not come to my assistance. Instead, after slipping on the hard steel ring for my cage I climbed upstairs a little early, and into bed with my awakening Mistress.

She had given me a one day reprieve for abstinence day. I rewarded her mercy by dipping my head under the covers, and servicing her with tongue and lips until she grasped me by my thinning head pf hair and pulled me away. She seemed satisfied.

By then my cock was thick and hard, and my balls were swelling against the tight ring. Ouch. But a not unpleasant ouch. Mistress seemed to enjoy the impact that ring had on my cock, as first she handled it, then allowed it access to her well lubricated cunt.

Once she was satisfied again, and I won my own release for a job well done, the cage was locked onto the ring and it was off to work.

Luckily, Mistress had to be in River City's downtown today, and stopped by on her way to lunch. We only had time for some quick and dirty worship. Mistress slid her tights down to her boot tops, hiked up her skirt, sat in her throne and put her Slave to work. Of course, I was on my knees.

Mistress seemed pleased by the time I was done, and the upholstery was wet from her juices and my somewhat sloppy assault. I took this photo with my trusty blackberry of the view from my knees after worship was completed.

Enjoy!

The Power of Humiliation

Last night, when Mistress and her Slave were having their way with one another, the subject of humiliation came up. It was after I had used my lips and tongue to bring Mistress to a series of little orgasms, and had mounted her (with permission, of course) for the main event.

Being taken down a notch or two is a powerful part of this whole D/s thing for us. Both of us are classic Type A types in many ways. Though I have mellowed over the years, its natural for me to “take charge” at a meeting of colleagues, or in my political and civic endeavors. It takes an effort for me to slide into a “back bench” role, as much as I admit it’s time.

Likewise, Mistress is a powerful presence in her work life and community endeavors, not just in the bedroom. Folks defer to her judgment, and not just because she is a stunner. She can intimidate with her thoughts and words as much as with her lovely bod and fashionable look.

The hidden (and somewhat surprising) thrill when I elected to submit to Mistress was the idea of surrendering my Type A personality and following her lead. It started with my obligation to ask for her permission to fuck her, and then to come when we have sex. She is no longer someone I can just “take”.

The expressed titles of “Mistress” and “Slave” help get us there, as well. And although those are private names, sometimes they inadvertently slip out in a public context, causing a blush and a rush.

The occasional spankings and croppings administered by Mistress, which make me squirm and whine a bit, certainly make the point.

And of course, when Mistress decides its time to use her strap-on …. Well that certainly turns Mick into a groveling fool.

This blog has enhanced my sense of humiliation too. There are a 100 or so hits most days, folks who now know us by our Mick and Molly names, and about my 2nd class status. We have even emailed with some of you.

Last week, when we met two of our new friends in the non-cyber world it was a humiliating little kick to share D/s war stories, including how we picked out my cage. Hearing Mistress call me her Slave, and being able to call Molly by her proper title in public had my cock straining against those stainless steel bars.

Now that Molly is trying out her own Part time Dom, I think she gets the humiliation buzz too.

Last night as I pumped a very hard cock into her, I asked Mistress if her new Dom got her to beg for a fucking:

“Yes, Slave….he did.”

“How did that feel, Mistress?”

“It was very …humiliating.”

By now both of us were getting close, and my thrusts had turned into a hard grind against the apex of Mistress’s thighs.

“And when you were ready, did you have to beg to come, Mistress?”

Yes….he made me beg.”

“Did you have to beg, like you make me beg, Mistress?”

“Yes, Slave.”

“It is humiliating, isn’t it?”

“Yes….”

“That’s what makes it so hot though….”

“Yes, Slave….”

Mistress’s sudden moan and thrust as she came against me seemed to spring from her own recollection of that humiliating drill.

And when it was my turn, I did it with some bells and whistles.

“May I please come now, Mistress.”

AS we caught our breath in a sweaty heap, me still on top and inside of her, Mistress complimented:

“That was very good Slave ….. you said please and thank you.”

Mistress experiences the "cruise missile"

On Sunday mornings, Mistress likes to sleep in. And what type of Slave would interfere with that sort of simple pleasure.

When Mistress finally called down stairs for me, she was groggily waking from her slumber. We spent some time in bed reading our local paper, disappointed that the Times delivery man had failed us yet again.

Then it was time for me to exploit my Sunday “switch” privileges.

Now that Mistress has taken the first steps to submit to her new Dom, Slave is a little sheepish about the full bore “tie her up and spank her” Switch. Shouldn’t that be his privilege? If I get too assertive, even on Sunday mornings, will that confuse Mistress (and Slave) about our roles?

It may take a little while to work that out, but in the meantime, at least I can write a less domineering script for our Sundays. After we took the 10 minutes or so required to scan our local rag for what passes for “news” hereabouts, I tucked the paper away and announced that Mistress was going to experience our power tool this morning: the Hitachi Magic Wand, aka, WMO (weapon of mass orgasm).

Mistress had no objection, apparently relieved that she would not be spanked. She was still a little sleepy, after all.

Instead she lay back, and allowed me to shower her with kisses, as my hand used the WMO to massage her inner thighs. As I teased and pulled on her ripe nipples with my lips and teeth, the little white bulb on the machine slid more firmly against the parts that mattered. Mistress began to squirm and moan. She was getting close, but a little too quickly for my taste …. What was the rush?

I turned the machine off. She whined a bit. We continued to fondle though, my thigh sliding over hers, allowing her to pump her sopping cunt against me a bit. Enough to keep her hot, but hardly what she needed to get her self off.

I rolled away then.

“Where are you going, Slave?”, a bit of pout in her low, sexy voice.

“Time to accessorize.”

The WMO comes with a little attachment: A blue, phallic device with a bit of a curve at the end. Sort of a cruise missile variation, aimed at a woman’s g-spot if properly targeted.

I slid it in place, and re-started my engine. Vroom.

Mistress was very very wet, by now, so it was easy to slide the churning blue invader inside her.

“How’s that feel, Mistress.”

“Ohhhhh ….good, Slave.”

The blue tip pressed inside her, as I angled the device so that the base was vibrating close to but not exactly on her clit….she was getting a little crazy now.

“Did you like it when he made you beg, Mistress?”

“Yes Slave.” She mutters through her labored breathing. “Is that OK?”

“Of course, Mistress.”

Apparently I was not providing the pressure against her clit that Mistress now demanded. Her hand shot down to the WMO gripping it over my hand, pressing it harder against herself.

“Oh no, not yet, Mistress. Aren’t I doing a good enough job?”

I pulled back on the device, denying her the pressure she sought. Mistress moaned in frustration, her hips bucking up to meet the WMO.

“You’re driving me crazy, Slave”, she whined. “Why can’t I use my hand to help down there.”

“Why don’t you squeeze your nipples, Mistress.”


She obeyed, moving her hand away from the device, sliding her well polished fingernails to her breasts, toying with them delightfully, all the while her hips churning. I accommodated her needs by pressing the buzzing tool back into her, giving her a little more of what she needed.


After she had squeezed her engorged nipple a bit more, I relented. She seemed so very desperate.

Her hand shot back down, clinging to the Magic Wand, pressing it much harder than seemed comfortable to me against herself, cunt thrusting hard against it. She had turned into a very needy little slut for me. Nice.

“Can I come now, Slave.”

“Is that what you really want, Mistress?”

“Oh ….yes.”

“Well then don’t let me stand in your way, Mistress.”

She must have been holding back a bit, as if she really felt she needed my permission. How considerate of her. Because once she got my “green flag”, she took her gyrations to yet another level. Both of our hands clung to the device, but hers took the lead. She came in an explosion that began with her head bent back, her hips thrust off the bed, and ended in a series of after shocks that left her on her back, red in the face, demanding that I fuck her.

And I was more than ready.