And Slave's Sentence Is...

Mistress received some interesting input on the question of “to cage” or “not to cage” from some of our devoted readers. You can see three comments below Sunday’s entry. And we got some emails to our BigLove1963@gmail address as well.

There was a general consensus that Slave deserves to be locked up for the 48 hours or so that Mistress will be off in the Big Apple. But there was at least one contrarian view, from the female half (the domme) of our friends from the West. Her husband/sub reports:

“I was surprised she votes for no cage. She says it will be harder to keep your hands off yourself when free. She says its a good chance to impress Molly, if you can keep your hands out of you pants. ....but also a good chance to screw up and earn yourself a very sound punishment. B says either way Jennifer will be happy and have fun at your expense. B says as long as Mick is strictly prohibited from talking to, seeing, texting , etc. the evil one. If that can't be done with 100% certainty, Then B says lock him up tight and keep the key!”

An interesting perspective. But Mistress chooses not to take that risk with her cock.

Some of you thought that it might be a tad too risky for Molly to jet off with the key. True. I could get called to a meeting where a metal detector must be circumnavigated. And there is always the “medical emergency” scenario. And I suppose its possible Mistress might want to see me toy with myself via video chat. (That’s happened before). So she will hide the key somewhere that she can direct me to in the event of an “emergency”.

Yesterday was a bit of a dry run. Mistress had a conference to attend in our state capitol for “International Women’s Day”. Various seminars with a lot of women she referred to as “Ellen Jamesion’s” (you literary types will get the reference, but the general thrust is “pissy feminists”). Next year, Mistress might want to give a seminar on taking charge of the men in your life at this conference. Eyes would open.

In any event, she had to hit the road early and we did not have time for our morning rituals. She made sure to lock my cage though. During the day we texted and emailed back and forth. I sent her my morning entry via email, which she commented on (“Hot. Hot. Hot., Slave”). She also copied me on a smutty email to her New Dom confirming their next appointment, just to taunt me a bit.

“You will grovel for me tonite, Slave.”

Of course, Mistress”.

I was a bit frustrated at that thought, and my cock perked up, poking against its metal confines.

It was after 8:30 pm by the time we both found ourselves home together. A long day without release for us. Mistress packed for her trip. I read the paper and checked up on our twitter and facebook friends.

Finally Mistress settled into bed. Ready for worship.

“Would you like to unlock the cage, Mistress?”

“Hmmm. I suppose we could just leave it on ….give you a head start on this week’s abstinence program.”

My jaw dropped. I was not quite ready for that news.

She giggled.

“No. I want the cock tonite, Slave.”

She unlocked me.

A reprieve.

Until this morning, that is.



We were both up early. Mistress made sure I woke her in time to service her before she headed for the airport. And I was allowed to take her as well, though my hard steel ring was already on.

After my cage was locked, Mistress took the picture linked to this entry.

“Those who voted for the cage should be able to see the decision I made, Slave.”

I guess I am lucky I was not required to drop my undies for this photo.

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.