A Greedy Happy Girl/ HNT

Wednesday was NOT one of those sexual wash-out days in River City.

And because I woke a little later than normal (maybe because of being ridden so hard and well by My Mistress last night), I may only be able to touch on the highlights.

Morning….. Tight scheduling called for deployment of the highly efficient power tool. Mistress was on her tummy, the tool slid gently between her ass cheeks to find the right angle of attack. Soon Mistress was flexing those delicious thigh and ass muscles, and moaning into her pillow. Fortunately, there was just enough time for her to allow her devoted Slave permission to fuck her.

“Just be quick about it Slave….”

I was.

Afternoon…. Mistress had time to stop by my office for worship. And she seemed happy that her Master, M had been in touch. So her I-phone camera was out.

“Let’s send him some pictures, Slave….”

I snapped one from “Slave’s eye view”, me on my knees, she in her throne, legs spread and ready to be serviced by my mouth.

As I licked a bit, she inspected my work.

“Take another one Slave….”

I did and as I probed and sucked, she texted it off to him.

“That will drive him crazy, Mistress”

“Good….he did say he enjoyed the blog today, Slave”.

“I think he likes to think of me in that cage,….. with you needing HIM for your release, ….Mistresss….”

(It’s hard to speak too clearly when my mouth is engaged in pleasing Mistress, so imagine the breaks and mumbles).

“Mmmmm….maybe, Slave….”

While on the other side of her orgasm, Mistress snapped another picture, her legs hooked over my shoulders, extended over my back….I bet he liked that one too.

Evening…. When Mistress walked into my building’s lobby, where we meet before our commute home she was chatting on her phone.

“Ah….here’s the Slave….Mick, I’m on the phone with M. I’ve been so busy today we haven’t had time to talk….You don’t mind , do you?”

“Of course, not dearest”….I gave her a little kiss, and we headed down into my garage.

Mistress and M chatted most of the way home, and her flirty, fidgety demeanor was fun to watch….she laughed when I called them the “lovebirds” the other day in an email to both, but there is something very endearing about their banter.

And of course it had a certain cock twitching affect on me as I chauffeured Mistress home.

She had her legs extended onto the dash, her skirt hiked up so that her black panties were visible, allowing my fingers to graze her thigh and cunt as she spoke….

But when I teased her a bit with my fingers, she pushed them away.

“You wont believe what the Slave is doing now, M ….he’s driving with one hand and using his other hand to try and fondle my cunt.”

I could hear his voice and saw her own hand replace mine between her legs, bundled into a little fist, Not exactly playing with herself….but clearly enjoying the contact as she squirmed in her seat, listening to the words that capture her imagination so compellingly.

Though I am not sure how he does that while riding his bike home from work on some Western Highway.

Last night….Mistress and Slave took a bike ride, then went out for Sushi with our two daughters, who head this week for adventures in Europe. They were pleasant (for a change) and we will (sort of) miss them. Then again…. a few weeks in an empty nest has its appeal.

When dinner was done, Mistress had to wrap a present for a teen’s foreign “family”, but she noticed that M had left a text message indicating that he was out and about and would welcome another call from her. And who was I to object.

So there Mistress was, wrapping this gift, chatting with her remote Master about the little sexy email he had sent her, clearly inspired.

“Slave as offered to leave us alone, M, but I don’t think that’s right.”

I had. I Would have been perfectly content to go downstairs and let nature take its course. But Mistress would have none of it. So I sat about, trying to ignore their animated chatter and focus on other things.

But after about 15 minutes, my twitching cock had gotten me to a point where sitting idly by and reading the Times just was not working for me. It would either be “step out” or engage. I elected to engage.

Mistress was not getting too far with her wrapping project…. A little too antsy for fine motor skills? So I took over the project, finished the job, leaving us a cleared off bed.

“Why don’t you lay down, Mistress”, I whispered, indicating that she was going to be worshipped.

So that’s how I found myself on my knees, face buried between her legs, as Mistress lay back on the bed, continuing her conversation.

“You won’t believe this M….Slave is licking my cunt. I didn’t even have to ask him….”

The talked on, but I could tell things had turned from the mundane to the kinky.

“He says to suck my clit….very hard Slave.”

“He’s doing it….yes.”

I sure would have enjoyed hearing what the other side of this conversation. But instead it went something like:

“Yes. …M ….. I would like that.”

“Yes….M….of course, I would.”


And then Mistress was churning and exploding against my mouth.

“He’s good at this M I know it’s not your thing….but Slave is addicted. To my juices, aren’t you Slave?”

And she reported back some of the things he had to say, as they discussed whether women taste different down there (we both agreed they certainly do).

“He tells me he’s tasted some that did not make you want to go back for more, Slave.”

Amen, brother. Been there. Tasted that.

And all the while, I kept licking. And Mistress kept squirming.

At some point, maybe 10 minutes after the first orgasm, Mistress reported the ongoing action.

“In case you are interested, He’s still licking me M.”

And her foot stretched down to fondle my cock through my jeans with her wiggling toes.

“Ummm….and his cock’s hard too….he must be a little frustrated ….”

Well, I suppose I was. But at least I was a part of the action.

By now M had been to a liquor store, stopped at a bar for two shots of Tequilla and was back on his bike headed home.

“I figure you will tell me when to stop, Mistress,” I said, between strokes with my tongue.

“Why would I do that Slave….this is fun. I have you between my legs, and him in my ear.”

And then it started again. His words quieted to a low murmur. Her voice turning all mushy, distant, and oh so submissive. And then her explosion against my mouth, her thighs gripping my head for dear life as she moaned into the phone. Then laughed with him after it was over.

“He says I’m a happy, greedy girl, Slave.”

“That you are, Mistress.”

The conversation continued. He shared his recipe for chili rellenos, a favorite of ours, and told he where to get the best tamales on the Rockies.

I kept licking. By now it was a challenge. I would keep it up until she directed otherwise. Though my neck was getting a little tight….All in a Slave’s work, I told myself.

And before M’s bike ride ended there was one more sexy, quiet and compelling interlude that had Mistress coming again against my mouth.

“Enough Slave”.

She sat up. Put a hand on my neck and began to kneed it. Nice.

“I’m rubbing his neck, M. He’s been a good Slave tonight.”

“He says I should make you insert that little white probe Slave and let you fi=uck me hard tonight as a reward.”

“Of course, Mistress.”

“And he says he likes to tell us both what to do….”

“No doubt.”

And later that evening, after the phone call ended, Mistress did ride me hard, pumping against me, her parts well used and a little tender, but still greedy and apparently very happy.

But I had a few more questions as she fucked me…

“So what was he telling you that made you come so hard, Mistress….?”

This asked as she was grinding herself hard against me, riding my cock like she was in the final stretch at Churchill Downs.

“He had me on a leash, Slave….at some resort in Jamaica. I was naked. Everyone was. I was his Slave. Everyone knew it. And he was making me suck his cock, then fucking me in public. “

And as she repeated the story, asking if I would like to witness this debauchery first hand, she came in that groaning , sobbing way that takes both of our breaths away.

Exhausted, she rolled over to let me finish the job. And I was happy to oblige.

I just hope M’s evening ending just as satisfactorily.

Long Day in Mistress's Cage.

Around 10 pm last night, Mistress “remembered” that my cage was still locked on tight.

Whether it’s the coaching she is receiving, or her own sense of mischief, she seems to be finding good excuses to keep me locked away longer than normal these days.

Mistress wanted some early exercise yesterday morning. So we passed on our usual morning sex, and she was out the door with her cute little helmet and tight black riding shorts by 6:30 or so.

I am not an early morning exercise guy. So I exercised my fingers on yesterday’s blog instead.

When she returned she had that sweaty sheen that comes when you combine a couple of rigorous hill climbs with our humid, semi-skunky, Midwestern river valley summer air.

“Can I read your blog, Slave?”, she asked, as she peeled out of the clingy and soaked black sports bra.

“Of course, Mistress.”

As she took up the laptop, laying across the bed, I helped her peel away those equally damp riding shorts, and went about my duty.

“Sorry if I’m a little grimy and sweaty down there, Slave.”

“No problem, Mistress. “

And while her cunt was certainly “ripe”, I was happy to enjoy all those salty and sweet flavors mingled together.

Mistress scrolled through the blog. I lapped and sucked away until she was “done” in both respects.

She patted my head, and said.

“Sorry we won’t have time to fuck this morning Slave.”

“No problem, Mistress.”

We showered together, and Mistress teased me a bit with her lovely, dripping body. Then as we dried, Mistress reminded me it would be a “cage” day. We were driving separately and well ….that’s the rule.

The work day passed uneventfully. Mistress was busy with a variety of meetings and so was I. And when we got home it would be a quick prep for dinner for 10, a little family gathering before our surly teens head off to summer adventures.

I shucked corn and marinated salmon, then came upstairs to see Mistress as she changed from work to her casual cloths for dinner. Our guest would arrive in about 20 minutes.

“Would you like me to worship, Mistress?”

“That would be nice, Slave….”

So she cleared some space on the bed and lay down, legs spread and drooping over the side, making room for my attention.

I enjoyed the time of my devotions to her and she seemed to enjoy the orgasm it produced.

“Well I could take off your cage now Slave……but maybe I will just leave it on until after dinner….”

“It’s up to you, Mistress….”

“Of course it is, Slave.”

Dinner was nice. No family quarrels or slights, which is always an accomplishment.

And it was about 10 pm by the time the company left and we had cleaned up the mess they left behind.

Mistress was lounging in bed, checking emails and facebook commentary. I stripped for bed too. And it’s then she remembered the cage.

“Oh dear, Slave….you’ve been in there all day, haven’t you?”

She reached for the key, and gently helped me shed my stainless steel contraption.

“Do you like having it on me all day like that, Mistress?”

Yes…I do. It makes me feel powerful.”

“And you are, Mistress.”

“Why don’t you go insert your device….(the little white probe that gets lubed up and inserted in my ass) …. I want a particularly hard cock tonight.”

And of course, I obeyed.

Caged on a Sultry Sunday Afernoon

These days my cock cage usually is required only when Mistress and I are not driving to work together. It must give Mistress an extra sense of security that I won’t be getting into “trouble”. 

And it allows her the always fun text message  sometime during the day, “how is the cage, Slave?” , and it’s de rigeur response, “Tight, Mistress.”

Sunday was an exception to the rule.

We have a rental property in River City’s University quarter. I  lived there for several years during our loathsome “commuter life”. The old house is  charming but not nearly capacious enough for all four of us, particularly considering the storage needs of  our two divas in training.

One particular sore point for Mistress is that  woman, with whom I had inappropriate dealings during that commute, lives a few blocks away.  So it’s a neighborhood Mistress would prefer that her Slave steer clear of, unless absolutely necessary.

On this Sunday the necessity was some much needed yard maintenance. Mistress knew in her mind that Slave would not stray (I hope she knows that by now). And of course she is always welcome to come join in the fun ( or lounge about while Slave deploys the weed eater).  But she had another security precaution in mind.

“I think you should wear your cage today,  Slave.”

“Of course, Mistress.”

So before loading up the equipment, I equipped myself with the steel cage, allowing Mistress to shut the little padlock.

“Good slave. Go do your work and hurry home.”

About two hours later I made it back, a sweaty, grimy mess.

Mistress was in her bikini, reading a book, lounging on our deck splayed across a chaise.

She acknowledged my return with a kiss, and suggested I get out of those sweaty cloths and join her. But there was no suggestion that I retrieve the key to my cage.

So I changed into some shorts, and returned to the deck, NY Times and a cold beer in hand.

We chatted a  bit about the news of the day, and our plans for the week.

She had her I-phone in hand, and took a call from our Western Correspondent. They were planning their phone “date” for later that afternoon.

“Yes….Slave’s right here …. M says hello, Slave.”

“Say Hi for me, Mistress.”

She did and added, “By the way, Slave’s still in his cage….when do you think I should take it off?”

Hmmm.  A Dom/Domme consult. Twitch. Up to that point the cage was a bit of background discomfort. Suddenly it had come to the fore.

“You know, I think you’re right….it stays on until after our date this afternoon.”

Mistress rang off, stood and came over to me, a hand gently resting on my crotch, confirming that the steel cage was still in place. Like it was going anywhere without her little key?

“You don’t mind if I leave it on until later, do you Slave?”

As if my opinion counted.

“Of course not, Mistress. It’s probably good for me.”

“Yes, Slave. You do need to be reminded of your place from time to time.”

The afternoon was a pleasant one. Hot and Humid. We made a nice lunch with some smoked salmon and fresh baked bread. Very Irish.

Around 4 pm it was time for Mistress’s date.

“Could be an hour or so, Slave. I will give a call when you can come up.”

I got a little antsy then. Did some pruning in the yard to distract myself from the twitch of my cock inside the cage as I imagined Mistress with Hitachi in hand being further programmed in the ways of submitting to M’s suggestive voice.

But the hour passed, and I got my call.

“Please come upstairs now, Slave.”

When I arrived, Mistress was lounging on the bed, her bikini bottom off, the top still on.  She had that well fucked smile on her face. And the room was redolent of her arousal. No doubt he had made her come two, three times over that hour.

“Why don’t you strip for me and fetch the key, Slave.”

I was happy to comply, and when she unlocked the cage and helped me work the covering off my cock, she took it in her hands and massaged it gently with her nicely painted nails.  It responded the way you might imagine.

“Oh my….I think it missed me.”

It did.

Thankfully, Mistress seems to enjoy a hard and demanding cock after one of those phone indoctrinations with her Master.

Internal Crystal Combustion

The monsoons stopped, finally. So Mistress and Slave were not going to languish too long in bed n Sunday morning, even though it was switch day.

But there was an assignment for M to complete.

“That description sounds a little impossible, Mistress….” (see yesterday’s blog).

Mistress bent her long, tanned and muscular legs this way and that, tryin to replicate the pose he required. I had warmed her up a bit with my tongue through those gauzy panties, so her moist tunnel gladly accepted the crystal cock we had acquired two years earlier at a very pricey Soho sex boutique.

“How’s that Mistress.”

“Mmmm….nice Slave.”

Her cunt clung to it very efficientl , allowing me to rise and retrieve my camera.

I snapped shots from a number of angles for him. Mistress does like to accommodate her remote Master. No doubt hoping the cumulative enticements and submissions will someday earn her a personal audience. And I like to be her nice little compliant slave in helping her with that goal.

Isn’t it nice when we all know our roles and play them well. Sort of like Ron Artest coming off the Lakers’ bench? OK, enough with the obscure sports metaphors.

Photos taken, I had another experiment to conduct, but figured Mistress would be better bound to the bed for this one. Some long strips torn from a weathered beach towel were good for tying her wrists together, and a leather cord attached them solidly to the top of our bed. She was going nowhere.

I played the crystal phallus in and out a bit, poking for her most responsive spots, while lapping her clit gently with the very tip of my tongue. Soon she was squirming nicely.

“Didn’t he suggest a combination of the crystal cock and the Hitachi, Mistress?”

“Ahhh….yes, I think so, Slave.”

I reached for it where it was parked for easy access under the bed, then switched on the little relentless tool he has been using to train her to be so dripingly responsive to his commands.

“We wouldn’t want to let both of you down.”

What followed was a slowly paced, accessorized assault on Mistress’s needy parts: as I pressed the tool against her with varying degrees of pressure while using another hand to tease and torment her channel with the phallus.

At some point I pulled it out all together and pressed it to Mistress’s lips, even as she squirmed against the Hitachi.

“taste it Mistress….you are delicious.”

She was. I had already sampled her.

“Mmmm…..God, it’s hot slave, feel it.”

Sure enough, the end of the little device was steaming hot.

Somehow Mistress was generating a whole lot of heat inside her desperate little cunt.

“Please don’t melt it, Mistress. That damn thing was expensive.”

It went back inside. It was sucked back inside, truth be told.

Slave was kind enough then to put Mistress out of her squirming misery, as she came in a fit of moans, lurching against her bonds, Confused about whether she should be begging me for permission to come, or demanding the right as my Mistress.

Ah the sublime confusion of a switch day well executed.

And before we abandoned the bed for a long bike ride, I was instructed to send those photos off to her Master.

He seemed pleased with her, but, as feared, she did not get the pose right.

Hopefully he will send an illustration next time.