HNT / Missing My Mistress

The Slave is in our nation's capitol still. Mistress is back in River City. We did talk last night after my dinner, and her engagement with Sir M.

Both of us were a little tired, so we did not ahve the energy for a "video chat" over our trusty Apple computers, the type involving the wanton display of body parts and voyeuristic abuse of body parts.

Plus it sounds as if Mistress's parts had sufficient wear and tear last night.

"How did your evening go, Mistress."

"Very nicely, Slave....I was a little late getting there, so we did not have as much time to play as we would ahve liked."

"Were you punished?"

"No .... he just kind of ....grabbed me when I arrived. Kissed me. Fed me a bit of a snack....then took me to his bedroom.... we mostly hung out there."

"Did you use those toys, Mistress?"

"No .... time was short.... I think he just wanted to get to the sex part."

"And how did that go, Mistress?"

"Well he told me to take my cloths off..."

"And did you?"

"Of course, Slave. He gives orders. I follow them."

"And then?"

"He told me to kneel and suck his cock..."

"How was that, Mistress?"

"Very nice, Slave.  I miss your cock tonight. But it was nice to have his in my mouth."

So I am imagining my Mistress. Naked. Kneeling. Her Dom feeding her his hardening cock. I have noticed the Mistress's skills in this area have ...developed ... over the last few months. I suppose practice and variety can enhance ones skills.

"Did you come for him Mistress?"

"Yes, Slave.   Of course."

By now my "tired" cock was twitching. But I did not want to press Mistress for permission. But I know that by this evening, when my dinner with relatives is done, I will be looking forward to that video chat.

DC Flashback

Slave is off to our nation’s capitol, sitting in a dreary seminar. The sun is out and tulips are brightening the White House lawn. SO far I have NOT sited Mrs. Sarkozy who was in town with her husband for a loose nukes hunt (or something like that).

For trivia buffs, name the former Clinton advisor who got caught up in a scandal involving sucking on his call girl’s toes? I think I am staying in the hotel that was the scene of that petty “crime”.

Meanwhile, Mistress is back in our home state’s capitol, casting her spell on the media over a complicated legislative issue. I pity those fools.

Mistress had to remember to leave in her car the handcuffs I had given her for tonite’s date with her Dom, one of the toys he directed her to bring. It might be a little embarrassing to get stopped at the metal detector in our state capitol and asked why you might have a pair of black handcuffs tucked away in your black Fendi bag. Are they simply fashion accessories? Or do they represent an attempt to kidnap the Speaker of the House?

I guess this is a sort of “do it yourself” submission, when the Dom tells you to bring handcuffs and a blindfold to facilitate your training and more complete submission to him. In any event, I will be thinking about what she is up to as I have a much less entertaining evening here in our nation’s capitol.

But the handcuffs flashed me back to an evening about 18 years ago, when Molly and Mick were married to other folks, but falling head over heels for one another. I had a business trip here. Molly came along (surreptitiously) for the ride.

In those days, when the toys came out, Mick was more inclined to take the D side of our D/s games. And I had tucked a pair of handcuffs in my bag for our trip.

We were staying on the Foggy Bottom neighborhood, and planned dinner at a favorite restaurant several blocks away. It was a lovely evening, though a little chilly. Coat weather. Ah ha!

Molly had dressed in a short, very attractive dress for our evening out. But before she shrugged on her black Burberry trench coat I retrieved my handcuffs.

“What are you doing?”

“Oh.... want to see how these cuffs look on you with that sexy dress, sweetie.”

Before she had a chance to consider her options, and I clicked one cuff closed around her outstretched wrist, pulled that arm behind her back, and took her other wrist prisoner. Her wrists were now tightly cuffed behind her back.

I took some liberties then. Hands squeezing her firm full breasts from behind, another hand climbing a thigh, fondling her through some skimpy undies.

Mistress sighed, and ground herself against my hand, her head resting back against me, mouth looking to be kissed.

“Mick ….Are you sure you want dinner?”

“Of course. I’m famished,” then broke the clinch, much to her consternation.

When she wriggled her wrists at me, indicating it was time to unlock her, I just laughed.

“Here, let me help with your coat.”

“Nooo….”

“Oh, yes….”

She sulked a bit as I slid her coat over her shoulders, then buttoned her up, to keep the coat from sliding off. But you could tell Molly was as much into this little adventure as I was.

I took an arm, with her resisting, and we left our room.

Mistress blushed a bit as the elevator got crowded. No doubt she was wondering if they were noticing the sexy young woman with her arms out of sight.

She seemed more relaxed as we walked down the sidewalk, me clutching her arm. She made a lovely prisoner.

I released her for our dinner, discretely unlocking her in the shadows outside the restaurant’s doors.

But the cuffs went back on for our walk home.

While I can’t remember exactly what happened by the time we made it back to that hotel room, I can assure you that Mick and Molly were both on fire, and that the cuffs did not come off before Mistress’s first of several orgasms.

And now, this evening, I will have to consider what Sir M will have Mistress doing once he snaps those black cuffs on her.

Personal Shopper

One of a Slave’s roles should be to make his Mistress’s life a little easier. A Slave should try to take off her plate some of life’s petty inconveniences. And now that Molly is back to a full time office job, the spare time she used to have has been slashed.

It’s typical that I assist with the cooking and make sure I am the one to clean the kitchen when we are done with dinner. Unloading the dishwasher along with the more manly tasks of grass mowing and other yard work is also on my plate.

But lately I have been asked to take on some more personal tasks. So Sunday night, as we watched the return of the Tudors (will that guy ever run out of wives?), Mistress spread her thighs and I applied the cream designed to remove any accumulating stubble, front, and then back. I let the cream sit for 10 minutes or so, cleaned it off with a warm cloth, then applied a nice coating of cocoanut cream to moisten and soften things up for her. The result was rather smooth and delightful. She had to chastise me a bit when those moisturizing fingers seemed intent on getting a response.

“I think my cunt has had enough stimulation today, Slave.”

Well of course….but it’s hard to resist Mistress.”

The fact that this “naked cunt” development came to us as a requirement of Sir M makes the whole task all the more Slavish and compelling, don’t you think?

Then yesterday, I was asked to take on a new role for Mistress: personal shopper.

When Mistress met me at the end of the work day for our ride home, She told me about a call she received.

“The Dom called Slave. He confirmed we are on for Wednesday night.”

“Good. Now you will have something to do while I am out of town, Mistress.”

“But he asked me to do something you might be amused by, Slave.”

My ears perked up.

“He told me to go to that adult store downtown, and get some handcuffs and a blind fold.”

So I surmised his training of my Mistress is cranking it up a notch. Gulp.

“And what did you say, Mistress?”

“That I was busy at work, but….”

“That maybe you could get your Slave to handle this task?”

She smiled.

“What a wonderful idea, Slave. You are very helpful.”

Last night I found a pair of handcuffs we had used in a prior life (pre-contract certainly). They are functioning well (though I am concerned about the potential for bruising Mistress’s lovely wrists). Mistress now has them stowed in her purse for her next meeting with Sir M.

Before lunch today, I wandered over to River City’s downtown “adult” boutique and found a faux leather blindfold, for Mistress to take along too.

I will give it to Mistress when she stops over for some worship this afternoon. Her new job has been a little stressful – lots of balls in the air – so I am sure she can use a little stress relief therapy.

Dinner Party?

Mistress’s Domme-ish behavior on Saturday afternoon, when she utilized her strap-on to good and potent effect, must have messed with my mind a bit.

I completely forgot to exercise my switch privileges yesterday, despite several choice opportunities. I suppose I was entranced in Sub-space longer than normal.

So when I finished my morning homework, I came upstairs and fell into bed with her, a tad horny from the fresh recollection of our activities the day before. Her warm body and the tight grip of her fingers on my cock erased any thoughts of tying her to the bed, or spanking her until her bottom glowed, that might otherwise have popped up. She even demurred on the “Power Tool” which I offered to deploy. So soon I was simply showing my devotion with head buried between her legs.

Afterwards, we took a long bike ride in the sunshine, the air still cool here in the morning. And then I was off to do some family visitations.

When I returned in early afternoon, Mistress was on our deck, working on her tan and reading the Times. But soon she was suggesting that we go upstairs for some indoor recreation.

As we undressed, Mistress said she was still working on scheduling her next meeting with Sir M. She was hoping to arrange a meet one evening this week when I am off on some work related travel. Something that would likely drive me to distraction while away from River City.

“You know, he asked whether he could visit me at my house sometime.”

Hmmm.

“Well, I guess it would have to be sometime when the girls are gone, or out of town.”

(Yes, that does happen sometime.)

“Of course, I told him that.”

But it also had me wondering where Slave fits in. Do I go bowling? To the movies?

“But where would I go, Mistress?”

“Wouldn’t it be interesting to have him over for dinner sometime?”

She clearly had contemplating my being close at hand. I was imagining myself cooking risotto, while Sir M chatted us up, a hand on Mistress’s ass. Exercising his rights to her. Argh.

This talk was having the exact effect Mistress no doubt desired. My cock was beginning to twitch. Verbal foreplay.

We climbed into bed, clutching one another, my fingers between her legs, fondling those smooth, squishy, cleanly shaven parts he liked her to display for him. My cock hardening against her silky thigh, so recently warming in the spring sunshine.

“So how would that work, Mistress?”

“Not sure, Slave….How do you think you would react?”

Good question.

How would Mistress want her Slave to react? All manly bristling. Defending her honor? Or passively and slavishly allowing events to unfold as her Dom and she desired. Is there some protocol or Miss Manners’ canned response for this type of delicate social situation?

“Well …. Mistress. You would have to give me pretty clear directions on how to behave. It would be an interesting dynamic …. he’s your Dom. He would expect you to follow his directions. Submit to his desires. And I would be your Slave, doing what you told me to do….I think.”

“Of course you would….you would do exactly what I said.”

“Yes, Mistress. Would I wear my cage?”

“Hmmmm …. We would have to think about that.”

“I think you want me to see him fuck you, Mistress.

“Yes, Slave. Wouldn’t that be interesting?

“But Why?”

“It would be so humiliating, wouldn’t it, Slave.”

“Oh, yes.”

It was around about this time that Mistress succumbed to my pumping fingers, gasping in a nicely explosive orgasm. Then she directed me to fuck her. That was an order I had no problem following.