Mistress Gets A Taste of the Crop

The attached photo best sets the stage for what happened Sunday morning when Slave got to exercise his weekly switch privileges.

Mistress has gotten a bit more assertive this week – Slave has been teased, tortured with denial, and thwacked a few times, before a nice ass fucking on Saturday. So it seemed only fair that when the tables were turned on Sunday morning, that Mistress should get a taste of her own medicine.

Her hands were cuffed and attached together, in front. I used leather cuffs to connect her ankles. Laying across our bed, Mistress was going no where.

I then retrieved our crop and used it to give her lovely bottom a nice red glow.

I must say that Mistress takes her medicine much more sanguinely than I do. I squirm and whine. She seems to get into a meditative state of mind, as she absorbs the blows. Am I just too light handed? Or is she just a better slave?

It’s hard to resist Mistress’s bottom, so I intermittently used my hands to rub and fondle her, dipping a finger in to confirm that she was very wet. Mistress likes exploring the sub zone.

As I resumed using the crop on her, I asked her if she thought her new Dom would spank her as her training resumes.

“Yes, Slave, I think he will.”

“Do you like the crop or a hand spanking better, Mistress?”

“I …don’t know, Slave….” She squirmed and moaned a bit as I slapped her reddened bottom a few more times.

At that point I felt I had pressed my advantage as far as was safe. I knew Mistress might remember if I abused my privileges the next time she had me at her mercy.

So I set the crop aside, and slid down on the bed next to Mistress. Then I reached for our Magic Wand (aka WMO).

“What are you doing now too me Slave?”

“What do you think?”

“Ohhh….the power tool.”

Mistress likes this part.

Still bound. At my mercy. Knowing that she can only lay back and “suffer” at the pace I set.

I slid the switch to “low”, and began wedging the humming tool between her legs from behind.

Mistress’s ankles were still tightly bound. Limiting her ability to part her legs. So it took a bit of wrangling to bring the churning white head of the device into contact with the parts that counted.

Mistress’s body began to rock up and down, the muscles of her bottom getting very rigid. All that spinning and biking pay off. She was straining to find the right angle that would end her torment.

And of course I was in no hurray at all to help her find it.

Mistress grew increasingly frustrated, as her rocking intensified. She was humping the bed, trying to spread her legs as best she could with her ankles connected, hoping to capture between her thighs the white bulb at the end of device to use it for her own erotic purpose.

All the while I was cooing into her ears, asking her to speculate about how her new Dom would handle her frustration in this setting. Much more cruelly? Time will tell.

Finally, Mistress found the angle and pressure that got her over the edge. She moaned into her pillow, her body vibrating as earnestly as the little device that got her there. As  I slid the machine free and switched it off, Mistress collapsed against the bed, seemingly exhausted.

I let her rest a bit, my hand stroking that sadly red bottom, listening to Mistress’s breathing get back to normal.

Then I freed her ankles, helping her slide her legs apart.

Of course, I was more than ready for her, and slid on top, taking her from behind.

I asked Mistress to consider whether her new Dom planned to access her this way, as I slid into her, inch by inch. Her bottom rewarded me with those little squirms. Her breathing quickened again.

“I …. don’t know, Slave.”

“Well he’d be missing something, Mistress.”

She came again for me then.

Excellent way to start a Sunday.

Need your guidance: To cage or not to cage?

Mistress is going to the Big Apple Tuesday morning. She will be going to a Board meeting, mixing with some potentates from the media and education world. No doubt there will be powerful and charming men for her to flirt with. She will be back Wednesday night.

Meanwhile Slave has his own duties: working and riding herd over the surly teens.

But here is the question for you lurkers and commenters out there: should Mistress lock her Slave's cage and keep the key with her?

Or should she trust her Slave with an unharnessed cock?

Of course, Mistress reserves the right to make this call, but she would like some advice ... let us know.

Thwacked

Interesting and positive development: Mistress is getting more pro-active in expressing her disappointment in her Slave, and taking appropriate disciplinary measures.

Yesterday morning I did not have my writing Muse. Our recently turned 18 surly teen decided she had the right to spend the night at her boyfriend’s off campus apartment. Without permission. Actually, contrary to direction. It was a test, I suppose.

So when I woke up at 6 am or so and discovered that she was not in her bed and the car she was using was not in the driveway ….well, you parents out there can imagine what my reaction was. And my mood was not conducive to breezy, insouciant erotica of the type that she and our cadre of readers have come to expect.

Of course, that did not prevent us from enjoying ourselves between the sheets later in the morning, once we discovered that our daughter was safe (it took calling the boyfriend’s number … at least he was smart enough to know that she needed to check in or face the consequences).

But as I was dressing for a bike ride, Mistress told me that I was going to be punished.

“Why Mistress?”

“You’ll hear all about it …. Now come here”.

My pants were already off. She grabbed a fabric belt, told me to put my hands behind my back, and wrapped them together, tying a knot that would hold long enough for her purposes (not hat I would try to escape).

She picked up her long wooden shoe horn, thwacking me a dozen times. Ouch.

In the process she explained why I was being punished …. Some snarky comments, that morning, and, of course, my “incomplete” homework assignment.

My bottom stung. But I had learned my lesson. And I think it’s helpful to Mistress to externalize rather than brood about any slights of the type that had clearly irritated her ….By leaving my bottom red she had been able to get a few things off her chest. That allowed us to move on with a “clean slate”. And we did.

But before we were done, she picked up her I-phone and snapped the picture above.

“Post that tomorrow, Slave.”

“Ick. Embarrarassing, Mistress. Who wants to see some old guy’s red butt.”

“Your humiliation to our on line friends is part of the punishment, Slave.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

So there you have it. My lumpy, reddened butt. No sarcastic comments, please.

*******************************************

Later that afternoon, after bikes were ridden, errands were done and a bit of a nap, Mistress told me to fetch her strap-on.

“It’s been too long, Slave”

And maybe she was right. This is an exercise that tends to put me in my place. Maybe my snarkiness this week had to do with a Slave that had not been reminded his place more directly by his Mistress.

Taking me from behind also reminds Mistress that she has full control over me when she chooses to exercise it.

I dutifully retrieved Mistress’s harness and dido. After she was kitted up, she slid into bed next to me. I was already naked, and I helped her out of a tight black T-shirt and sports bra, giving me free access to those lovely breasts and sensitive nipples.

We fondled, sucked and slithered against one another for a while, building our arousal. Mistress grip on my cock assured her that I was more than ready. And my fingers told me just how wet and aroused Mistress had become.

“We can just fuck if you want Mistress.”

While I was not reluctant to be fucked in the ass ….I actually had been missing it … When the time comes there is always a bit of dread. It’s still hard for Mr. Type A to suck it up, roll over, spread my legs and submit to Mistress’s assault.

“Oh no, Slave. While I do want that cock …. And will have it after I am done …You really do want me to fuck you this way, admit it….”

“Ah ….yes … I suppose I do , Mistress.”

Mistress was lubing her little tool, and shared some of the baby oil gell with me. I did my own lubing with a finger, making myself ready for her.

“Of course you do, Slave. Now get into position.”

I rolled over, slid a pillow under my hips, giving Mistress the angle of attack that pleases her.

Mistress is getting good at this. She easily found her target, and drove into me.

This time I was the one doing the groaning, and once she established her rhythm, my ass was rising to meet her. I had become her cozy receptacle.


After a few minutes, Mistress thrusts become more erratic, and manic, and then she let out one of those groans from deep in her chest that told me she had come from her exertions. She gave me a few more tantalizing thrusts, then pulled away, sliding off her belt, and settling down next to me on the bed.

“Enough, Slave?”

“Yes, Mistress. More than enough.”

I was instructed to insert my white probe, and return to her. It reminds me of where she had been, and adds to the rigidity of an already quite hard cock.

Mistress likes a good fucking after taking me that way. And I was quite desperate to accommodate her.

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.