Tortured

Last night Mistress and Slave had a busy evening. A political event. Dinner at a local trendy spot. Then an obscure musical theatre piece at a small community theatre in our downtown.

Things went well until we happened to observe a woman with her father that we like to avoid. The woman who Mick mistakenly got involved with a few years back while we were doing our commuter marriage thing. It’s a chapter in my life I deeply regret, and that caused a good deal of pain for Molly and jeopardized our marriage.

Fortunately, we have been able to turn that page. And the irony is that it also triggered this whole D/s thing that has ignited our sex life in a way that always makes me feel unworthy.

Nonetheless, it was a bit jarring for both of us to sit through the theatre with this woman lurking there, just a few aisles away. I know it made Mistress uncomfortable. And that made me uncomfortable. And, as it turned out, the play kind of sucked too. The fact that it was a one-act play eliminated our chance to bolt at the interval. All in all, we should have gone home early and hit the sack.

Did I mention it was my Abstinence Day?

It had been deferred a day. Earlier that night it occurred to me that Mistress might give me a pass if I played my cards right. But once this discomforting part of our history reared her head I knew that I could give up that aspiration.

I also knew that I owed Mistress some special attention.

During a break in the inaction I whispered in her ear “I look forward to worshipping you tonite, Mistress.

“Good, Slave. But don’t thing I am letting you off the hook early.”

When we arrived home, I suggested that Mistress keep her tights on, and allow me to do the ultimate unpeeling. She was happy to take that suggestion.

AS we crawled into bed, we clung and kissed and knoodled a bit. Mistress was squirmy with desire. I was very hard already. Something about knowing that gratification will be deferred makes it harder to rein that impulse, and sliding against the fabric of her tights …. Well. Argh.

Then I decided on a change of plans, and reached down for the trust Hitachi Magic Wand (aka WMO).

“I thought I was going to be licked, Slave.”

“Your call, Mistress. But this seemed like a better option”

“Feel free, Slave.” 

Mistress does like her WMO.

I decided to take it slow and easy, and dragged out the process for Mistress.

We talked a bit about her Dom, how their next engagement has been delaed a bit. I think that frustrates Mistress, who is interested in what the next step of her “training” may hold for her.

I got her to confess that she enjoyed it when he made her ask permission to come, just as she requires me.

All the while I was pressing the head of the wand against her, gently, then harder, making her squirm for the gratification she craved.

When I had her repeat the  words  he requires her to use, “May I come, please”, Mistress dropped over the edge, stifling a moan, gasping in release. It was a good one.

At this point I was particularly hard, but know that I would have to wait until morning. And I was hoping that Mistress would drift off to sleep once she was satisfied.

But she had other things in mind.

She reached for my cock, gently holding it in her hands.

“Oh, you are so hard Slave. Don’t you wish you could fuck me now.”

“Yes, Mistress. Very much so. Would you like me to take off your tights and do just that?”

She did her cruel laugh for me.

“No Slave. It’s Abstinence Day. Remember?”

Ah…of course, Mistress.”

“Remember, Slave,  Abstinence Day was your idea.”

Actually it was. Crazy.

“Well it does make me more your Slave.”

All the while, Mistress’s body was undulating against me, her tighted thigh sliding between my legs, her fingers tormenting my cock and balls. Though I didn’t admit it to her. I was so very close.  But, of course, I had my duty to contain myself.

“And, you like being my Slave, don’t you?”

“Of course, Mistress. “

“Well I think I will read a bit now. Slave,  keep your cock pressed up against me until we go to sleep.”

She rolled over a bit, picked up her magazine. I was tired, but still very hard. And I slid up against her, my cock pressed between the cheeks of her firm bottom. She kept up her gentle little squirms against me as she read. No doubt she knew exactly how crazy she was driving me.

Double Argh.

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.”