If You Want It Done Right ...

Last night was a busy workday for both Molly and Mick, followed by a political reception before we finally headed home, determined to take a bike ride before dark before more rain moved into town.

All along we had been simmering, denied our morning “exercise” by an early alarm. Bummer.

I did get to lunch with Mistress near her office, but, sadly, no time for worship. Over lunch, She did share some rather provocative text messages from our western correspondent, and discussed how she was anticipating a date this evening with Sir M. When Mistress is distracted by these other guys, that just makes her Slave want her all the more: something that Mistress no doubts enjoys. Hence the apparent taunting.

When we finally got home, and Mistress began to undress from her elegant black work dress, I was drawn to that spot of her back revealed when the zipper came down. My kisses seemed to make Mistress shiver a bit, and she pressed herself back against me. And my lips got just a taste of what I had been denied through the day. Yum.

But Mistress was not to be distracted from her ride before we lost the sun. She is properly focused on keeping us both in shape.

By the time we settled into bed later that evening, Mistress had decided what she wanted.

“I need the Hitachi, tonite, Slave”

Interesting. She had come magnificently as I applied it to her Sunday morning. Usually it takes a few days for her to want it again. But Mistress had been regaled by M with stories about how B likes to use that compelling tool on herself while forcing M to watch patiently. I wondered what was up.

I stripped for her, then retrieved the device from its hiding place before coming joining Mistress in bed. She had opened her laptop.

“I need to respond to M, then you can have your way with me, Slave.”

She typed away, updating me on her progress, which I could read over her shoulder. Here is a part of what she wrote:

“We finally did get to come home, ride our bikes, and now he is waiting for me to finish this with the Hitachi in hand.


Yes, I still owe you more of the story -- I can't decide what Mick will be permitted to do (have not figured out that part yet). I think that you left off with my being spanked and B playing with my nipples and it seemed that you were rubbing your cock against me. … we would guess what would happen next. Mick thinks (as if he has a say) that I should be required to suck your cock and lick her cunt...i did tell him that he would have to hold my hair out of the way (there is lots of it). Maybe, I would just grab B and take her to a local bar up the street, and we would do tequila shots with the locals -- and say screw you two with your hard cocks.”

As you can see, despite her best efforts, Mistress has a hard time with this whole submission thing. It will take a rather compelling and determined Master ever to make her a true subbie.

When Mistress was done she set aside the computer and gave me the go ahead. The mechanical humm of the Magic Wand filled the room, and Mistress hunkered down into the bed, spreading those delicious legs. I could detect the alluring scent of her arousal. Email as foreplay? In this case, apparently so.

I was planning the slow but steady climb to the mountain top for Mistress, sliding the soft white head of the tool against, Mistress’s inner thigh. But she was impatient, apparently wanting the quick and dirty assault to the peak.

“You know where to put it Slave, I want it now….”

Impatient. It had been a long day on simmer, apparently.

I slid the tool against Mistress’s naughtier parts, but apparently not firmly enough.

“Give it to me Slave….I will take over from here.”

And she did, grabbing the device with both hands, and pressing it against herself much more firmly than her lowly Slave had done. I guess I am too delicate with her.

“Make your cock hard Slave. I am going to want it once I have taken care of myself.”

“That’s not going to be a problem, Mistress.”

I had been hard since she started typing to M. I had been on simmer too for a while.

Her voice had a certain urgency now, breathing labored, her hips rising, wriggling against the churning head she pressed firmly against herself.

With one hand I stroked my cock, assuring it met Mistress’s standards. I placed the other over Mistress’s hands guiding the vibrator. I figured there was something to be learned here by some first hand monitoring of her urgent self-ministrations. I am a Slave who believes in the “continuous improvement” quality control mantra.

Within moments, Mistress had found her mountain top, with some dramatic thrusts of hips against machine, as she moaned and rolled side to side. While in this Slave’s humble opinion it did not rival the day before, when she was bound to the bed and frustrated to the point of begging, it was a sight to behold.

“Excellent work, Mistress.”

“Sometimes, if you want it done right, you have to do it yourself, Slave.”

“Apparently.”

“Why don’t you fuck me now, Slave”

And I was happy to accommodate that request.

Making a Mother Beg on Mother's Day

Here in River City we respect all Mothers. So our focus was on paying respect where respect is due. Dinner with three mothers in attendance was in store, and I had orders to prepare a smoked salmon and apple crisp, arrange for the planting of spring flowers, and allow Mistress to rest in the sun.

By the time the plates were cleared away, our relatively small gathering consumed two large slabs of Salmon that had lingered in the smoker most of the afternoon. Fortunately, a good chunk of the apple crisp is left over for Mistress to savor for her breakfast this morning.

But our readers do not come here for gastronomic adventures. So let me turn the clock back to the early morning hours of our Mother’s Day.

Mistress called me upstairs surprisingly early on Sunday. I had taken her to dinner, and then to a cozy, 60’s style bar for some drinks and dancing Saturday night. I had risen early and was working on my daily homework assignment when I heard the call.

“Slave, I’m awake.”

I gathered the morning papers and obediently trundled up the stairs with my computer, then finished my posting as Mistress paged through the local news. She approved the rather explicit photo of her shapely ass posted yesterday, no doubt thinking of the impact it might have on our Western correspondent, M, or her more local Sir M, once they examined it. She can be a tease.

Then we turned to our email in box and found an overnight message from M, who had enjoyed our homage to him in yesterday’s blog. He continued the fantasy of our hoped for “blog-up”, and had some instructions:

I think we/you are on to something here.  … I don't know any other long standing married couples who have sex as much as us/you.

But to get hot....Molly you are in serious need of a good sound bare bottom spanking.  Your dom M is not getting the job done.  I would send you and Mick to meet us in a hotel somewhere where B and I could properly discipline you while Mick watched (of course in his cock cage.)  B has always wanted to take a woman’s big nipples in her fingers, squeeze them tight, and twist then   She really is very dominant.  You would definitely be stripped naked for a very through inspection.  Very likely B would inspect your private parts too!

 In fact I'm ordering you (Molly) to continue this story tomorrow morning, after you two work it out in bed in the morning.  You two are two hours ahead of us.  Young lady ..I expect a full report in the morning!!!  Or you will receive a very sound bare bottom strapping!!!

As it happened it was our switch day, and I had some plans of my own that would dovetail very nicely with M’s instructions to Molly.

Once Mistress read through my blog entry with approval, I retrieved our red cuffs and locked them tight on her wrists, then rolled her over onto her tummy. I knew from last week’s episode to avoid an “inquisition”, but that would not prevent a bit of re-enactment along the lines that M proposed.

As I stroked Mistress’s lovely ass, she squirmed a bit, knowing what was to come.

“You’d like them both to spank you, wouldn’t you Mistress?”

“That would be …. interesting, Slave.”

I applied three sharp smacks to her bottom. The squirming intensified.

“It would be more than interesting, wouldn’t it. It would make you very wet, I’d bet.”

After several more swats, I reached between Mistress’s legs. Very wet indeed. I did my best evil laugh.

“Just thinking of it makes you all drippy, doesn’t it, Mistress?”

“Of course, Slave.”

I then proceeded to give Mistress the spanking that M contemplated. Firm. Hard. Relentless. Her bottom was glowing red by the time I stopped. And Mistress was moaning into her pillow. Hopefully, the background music I had turned on was enough to keep the sounds of those smacks and moans from disturbing the sleeping surly teen down the hall.

“That hurt, Slave.”

“I know, Mistress, but hopefully it will give you some inspiration to respond later to M.”

Now it was time for her reward. I reached for the Magic Wand, still nestled next to the bed, under the accumulated newspapers that sometimes annoy Mistress. (Am I looking for opportunities to be disciplined, or what?).

I switched it on. Mistress could hear the low, industrial strength hum.

“Oh goodie….”

But this was not going to be a quickie.

The tool slid between her thighs. Mistress lifted her ass to accommodate it. I was not to be so  accommodating. Her cunt just got a few gentle touches.

“More, Slave.”

“Patience, Mistress. Tell me what happens next with M and B. After the spanking?”

“Well ….”

A slight encouraging touch with the wand.

“Oh,,,yes…right there, Slave….

But I pulled back.

“Go on.”

“You are cruel …..I guess they would make me go down on both of them….”

“You mean sucking his cock, Mistress?”

The wand slid further between her legs. Her muscles tensed.

“Yes….Oh that’s good.”

“And licking B’s cunt, Mistress?”

“That too, Slave.”

She ground herself against the soft white head of the tool. But I pulled back a bit.

“What would I do, Mistress.”

“Why you would hold my hair out of the way.”

The image of all that: Mistress on her knees, maybe her hands tied behind her, and me accommodating her degradation, while locked in my cage, made my cock twitch. But I was not so easily tempted to cut to the chase.

I abruptly stood up, switched the wand off.

“Where are you going!”

I liked that frustrated tone in her voice.

“Getting the camera, Mistress.”

I snapped some photos as Mistress squirmed in frustration. Then used some leather cuffs to attach her ankles together, before snapping a few more shots.

“That’s going to make it harder to get to me, Slave.”

“No…it will just make it a bit harder for you to come, Mistress.”

But I knew that she could angle herself to accommodate the wand with a little of the straining that made those thigh and butt muscles clench so appealingly.

“Now where were we?”

After a few more minutes of torment, we finally got to the good part.

“You’re not coming until you really beg, Mistress.”

Her moan spoke to her frustration.

“I am begging, Slave.”

“How would it sound if you were begging M and B, or Sir M, and then just kept saying ‘No’”

“Don’t do this to me….Please, please let me come….”

The wand was under her now, her cunt pressing down hard on it, her whole body straining and vibrating in harmony with it. But she was holding herself back…in a place where she felt a need to obey….to wait until I gave her clearance. And I could tell her frustration was mounting.  Oh this was fun!

But ultimately, I was a dutiful and loving Slave. And it ws Mother’s Day, after all.

“Alright, Mistress. M and B give you permission to come. “

“Oh God….thank you Slave.”

But that was just the beginning of a process. It took Mistress about 60 seconds to turn off the “do not come” signals she had so frustratingly given her body, and switch to “full steam ahead” mode. And that process was a wonder to behold.

The moans, the clenched and tightened muscles, the to and fro, and the up and the down. Then the roar of desire and satisfaction she tried to bury in the pillow under her head. And finally, the sobs and the tears running down her cheek, reddening her eyes. And then the  relaxation of all those previously tensed muscles into a satisfied (but shapely) heap.

“Happy Mother’s Day, Mistress.

Some Blogs Write Themselves (or Collaborators Write Them for You)

Molly and Mick had a busy Saturday morning. After our morning engagement between the sheets, Molly was off to various beauty treatments (even a sex goddess needs occasional maintenance), and I had some home repair and gardening to tend to at home.

Mistress did call as I was painting a closet to tell us our western correspondent, M, had sent her a photo via text message (no, nothing prurient, a shot from a golf course with mountains in the background).

“I think he’s flirting with me, Slave.”

“Of course he is, Mistress. And you love it.”

When we reunited, Mistress took her nap privileges (sex goddesses need their beauty rest too), and I joined her in bed with the Times.

But when naptime was over it was time for Mistress to slide into her harness. She had promised a nice ass fucking and was prepared to deliver. It had been a few Saturdays since we had indulged in that particular ritual. And the absence had taken its toll: Slave had probably been a little too uppity in the last week or so, and needed to be reminded who was in charge.

With Mistress in her strap on, the hard plastic cock protruding between her legs, she reached for her laptop to check our account.

“I wonder if M has read this morning’s blog, Slave. It might drive him a little crazy”.

Sure enough, there was an email from M, which Mistress read to me, her laptop resting against the plastic cock resting between her legs.



It’s very flattering and very hot to be the subject of your play time. Very curious I had much the same fantasy about our visit. I have not yet talked to B about any sex play, but I will share my fantasy.

It also involved Molly being forced to strip naked for inspection. I am sure B would be curious too as she is a curious girl just like Molly. Then definitely being put over my knee for a good sound bare bottom spanking. Perhaps then over B's knee, although for Molly’s sake I hope not, as B is very strict and spanks very soundly. (actually i'd love to see that). Then I imagined Molly being bound over some piece of furniture with her bare bottom high in the air, her legs spread and her breasts available for some torment.

I know B has always had a fantasy of putting nipple clamps on another girl’s nipples. She likes the idea of big fat nipples being clamped and controlled by her.

While B was doing that I could be spreading Molly wide open, sliding my fingers inside, seeing just how wet she was. I would then pull out my big cock and rub it up and down Molly’s slit. B would say “go ahead and grab her hips and fuck her hard.” B could then grab Molly’s hair and force her to look her right in the eye and beg her to let her cum. B would say ram your cock in her hard and make her cum. I would do just that grabbing Molly’s hips and fucking her deep and hard with my big fat cock, splitting her wide open and making her cum hard.

Wow. B is at a soccer game and my cock is rock hard just writing that. I think I'll have to go take care of that right now. Hope you guy get as hot reading this story as I had telling it.

Mistress was more than amused by this incendiary email. Clearly, M’s thought patterns were going in the same deviant direction as her own. I was simply lying next to her, and as she read to me, my cock was beginning to thicken.

“I want you to make your cock hard for me Slave, while I respond to M.”

I did as directed, using my hand to stroke my cock. It’s something I do not have the privilege to do without Mistress’s permission.

“I guess B does not impose the ‘no masturbation rule without permission’ rule on M.”

“I guess not Slave, it’s one area where I seem to be a bit stricter.”

As I followed Mistress’s directions, she was typing her response to M:



Mick and I just read your emails. We just woke up from a nap and are getting ready for Mick’s afternoon of domination (then he is taking me out to dinner for Mother’s day – just us, no kids – great mom, right?) Mick is fine with you wanting to fuck me –

The problem with me is that I have trouble keeping life on the fantasy-only level. Things you do not know, I am also a mini- (I mean mini not full-fledged) geologist like your sister and very much an outdoors person -- (I am making Mick get his cock hard now while I write)...I have climbed some big ones (Rainier and the Grand Teton, etc)...so I am an “if it is there, climb it girl”.

That gets to you and B and the fantasy -- let's make it happen. Then I would not have to come home and report to Mick about my encounter -- he would be there, etc.

glad that your liked his blog-- yes your writing got us hot -- now off to it…Molly”



Molly read her response to me as I continued to stroke my cock. She hit ‘send’, then put the laptop away.

“Get in position, Slave.”

I obediently rolled over with a pillow under my hips, as Mistress lubed up her tool. It had been a while and my ass was a bit tighter than normal, but she readily found her mark, and she began to pump into me, no doubt fueled by the banter with our friend out west.

It’s an experience that puts this Slave into a certain zone. ‘Intense’ is one word to use. And it seemed that Mistress got there too, shuddering with an orgasm behind me a after a few minutes of driving her ‘cock’ deep and hard into me.

When she was satisfied, and also assured that I had been put in my proper place, she slid out and off.

“Insert your device, Slave, I want a very hard cock ….but first, get the Magic Wand.”

Hmmm. Molly was a particularly needy Mistress this afternoon. All that talk with M had gotten her in the mood for some serious sexual energy discharge.

So I used the wand to make sure she was pleased, building her to an enthusiastic release, then asked for her permission to fuck her. Fortunately, she was in a generous mood.

After we came back to earth and caught our breaths, I checked our email account one more time. M had an update:

“Wow. After taking care of business and a hot shower …I feel much relieved.


Like you said Molly, we don't have any other friends we share things like this with, so hope I was not out of bounds. Mick, I always feel a little uncomfortable talking about fucking Molly, about crossing any boundaries.. and I don't know how comfortable Molly was with B being involved, but I figured what the fuck. Anyway I hope it makes you guys hot ..that was the idea. And compared with the things your friend Nila writes ..I figure it was pretty tame. LOL.

While relieving myself I thought of an even kinkier ending to the scene if you'd like to hear.

Loved sending Molly the picture this morning. Sorry I couldn't text more …

Anyway you guy keep having fun, your my heroes. Your friend, M”

We enjoyed hearing that M had remotely joined in our fun. And, from my Slavish perspective, who am I to object if Mistress wants to partake in M’s offers of a sound spanking or good fucking. She is in charge and all I can do is sit back and enjoy her accounts and provide any logistical support she may need.

As I did later that afternoon, helping Mistress apply the cream required to keep her “naughty parts” all clean and tidy as Sir M requires. She has a date set for Tuesday night and needs to be ready for her inspection. The photo shows what he will enjoy when he makes that inspection.

Speculation

Earlier this week our fellow blogster (or is she a blog-stress?) at “Peacefully Submissive” posted a lovely contemplation on how words muttered in the throws of passion can stoke those fires so compellingly. Her Mr. C tends to take the lead in setting an erotic, fantastic stage to provide a subtext for their proceedings. In our household, I have traditionally provided the narrative.

In days past, Mistress would sometimes ask me to “tell her a story” as I toyed with her cunt, and I would weave a fiction for her, often involving her debauchery at the hands of a dominant female or (more recently) male. And lately our conversations have focused more on my Q’s and her A’s about her own adventures with her Sir M.

But variety is the spice of life, and this week we went off in another direction.

Thursday evening, Mick and Molly were in bed. I had pleasured Mistress with my tongue, devouring her smooth and clean shaven parts until she came with those little bucks against my mouth, and a gentle but enthusiastic moan.

After seeking her permission, I slid on top and into her, inhaling the luscious scent available at her neck and her full breasts. Yum.

We had talked earlier in the week to our Western Correspondent M, and Molly had traded a few provocative emails with him, focusing on why he (or other Dom males) seem so focused on taking a woman in their alternative orifice.

.Part of the conversation had been about whether we could arrange a meet up with him and wife B at our little southwestern hideaway. So as I thrust my hard cock into Mistress, pinning her arms over her head, I speculated:

“So how would that work, Mistress … if M and B came to visit, and he directed you to strip for him, in front of us all…what would you do?”

“Well, I don’t know Slave….I suppose I would have to, wouldn’t I?”

“Why, Mistress?”

“Well, they would be our guests. It would only be common courtesy.”

“Hmmm….How do you think B would respond to that?”

“well, I am assuming that, since she is the boss in their household, he wouldn’t ask me to strip unless she approved.”

That made sense. Their visit could simply be some folks with some common interests, and professions getting together for a weekend of vanilla fun. No doubt M would not demand anything from Molly without B’s approval.

Our conversation continued as my thrusts became a slow grind against Mistress, spreading her legs even wider as my fingers toyed with her left nipple.

“And once you had so courteously stripped for him, Mistress, what if her demanded that you bend over his lap so he could spank you?”

“I suppose I would have to obey, Slave. Once he had me naked, I would probably feel pretty submissive, humiliated. And in that state of mind, my inclination would be to obey, wouldn’t it?”

“And I bet you would be pretty wet by then too, wouldn’t you, Mistress?”

“Yes, Slave, I would.”

And in real life Mistress seemed to be getting close to a very nice little explosion of her own, her breath shortened, gasping as I pulled away a bit and used my fingers to fondle her swollen clit.

“And, if between those spanks, he slid his hands between your legs, what would he find?

“Oh, I’d be very wet, Slave.”

“Would you beg him to come, Mistress?”

“Of course Slave. It would be rude to come in that position without his permission, wouldn’t it?”

It’s so nice to have a courteous Mistress.