MIstress's Naked Sunday

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Mistress Works on Eliminating those Tan Lines

“Can you put some sun screen on my bottom, Slave.”

Of course, I could. The sun was bright and warm here at our mountain hideaway, and the low wall around our patio gives Mistress plenty of privacy for naked sunbathing.

The only hassle was finding an extension cord and outlet convenient enough to assure that he Hitachi was readily accessible where she had arranged her little sunbathing nest.

After I smeared some number 8 on her lovely bottom, I poked around as any good Slave would and noticed some hair sprouting up back there since her last waxing.

“Hmmm….you may want me to do some tidying up back here Mistress.”

“Do you mind shaving me back there later Slave…..it’s a little too hard for me to reach.”

Add another project to my weekend punch list.

After my inspection and sunscreen was liberally applied, I picked up the Hitachi.

“Just wanted to make sure that it’s ready for you, Mistress.”

I had plans to watch the big USA – Ghana Soccer game at the local Cantina. I figured Mistress might want to engage in a little self help in the absence of my cock.

But once the highly persuasive tool was churning in my hand, It seemed a waste not to put it to its proper use.

Mistress squirmed and squealed in surprise as the business end of the tool slid between her legs, finding that little vulnerable, but deliciously responsive spot.

But she did not protest. Instead her bottom rose up a bit to accept her therapy and make sure it was precisely on target.

Soon she was grinding against it, writhing a bit from side to side, before her body shuddered in release.

“It seems to be working fine out here, Mistress,” I said, using my best Mr. Wizard voice. Another experiment properly concluded.

“Ummmmm….Yes, Slave. Very well…..”

Mistress settled back in to her chair, picked up her book, seemingly content. And I was off to watch the game and it’s disappointing conclusion. But at least I am done with those annoying Vuvuzelas for the next four years.

At some point ,after Landon Donovan scored the sole goal of the day for our slow, lumbering crew, I got a text from Mistress. A storm had popped up over the ridge line, and sheets of rain were falling. Dramatic.

“Your naked and wet Mistress has gone inside, Slave. Come home soon.”

Soon I rode my bike home in the rain, stripped off the wet cloths, and joined Mistress in bed.

Sidling up against her, my hand wormed its way between her legs. As we kissed, and I used my fingers to tease and torment, I updated her on the motley crew with whom I had shared the afternoon.

“Any Master material, Slave?”

Mistress is always on the lookout for someone to take her firmly in hand. And out little town has its fair share of mountain men and ski bums who might fit her needs. But they weren’t wasting the day like me watching s sport where the score too often ends up 1-0.

“Not this afternoon, Mistress. It seemed that everybody but me was drinking Bud Light.”

Cheap, Yes. But hardly a sign of Alpha Maledom.

“Well, keep your eyes peeled, Slave.”

Oh, you can be sure of that.

Soon Mistress was moaning softly, as she came against my hand. Then rolled languorously over, onto her tummy, letting her tush squirm a bit against the bed with her little aftershocks.

I knew what this signaled. I got up and snapped the photo above. Then climbed back into bed, on top of that lovely bottom.

My cock was already rather hard, and I slid it between her firm and now tanned bottom cheeks.

“M is desperate to fuck you in the ass, isn’t he Mistress?”

Mistress remains a virgin there. She has said many times, she’s not allowing anyone to “go there”. But I can see an exception being made in this case.

“Yes….he talks about it a lot, Slave.”

“And I bet you’d give in to him….wouldn’t you?”

“Well it makes me a little nervous ….but I don’t really think I could say no to him if he insisted.”

“That would really make you his Slave, wouldn’t it….”

“I guess that would be the last straw, Slave…”

Yes, as one of our commenters noted a while back, the surrender of her final “virginity” to M’s desires would make her submission to him complete, wouldn’t it?

Mistress had lifted up her ass, just so, and my cock had wormed its way into her tight cunt, oh so wet and welcoming.

As we talked about how I would never think of denying M “first dibs” on her ever tighter as, I pumped away at her, increasing the tempo until my Mistress was moaning with a rather dramatic orgasm. And then another one.

And after a bit, when Mistress seemed sated, I rolled her over to finish the job, Grateful that Mistress was in a beneficent mood and allowed me to come too.

Now it’s the dawn of our switch day, what we have planned to be a “Naked Sunday.” Mistress will be naked, collared and restrained most of the day, with regular orgasms wrung from her, on the hour, every hour. There will be an exception made for our morning bike ride, and for dinner when two friends will join us. Though I am toying with the idea of making Mistress wear her collar or wrist cuffs for through the dinner hour.

Any thoughts on that, dear readers?

Be sure to tune on tomorrow to see how our adventure unfolds.

Mistress's Stereo Stimulation

With only about 4 hours of sleep, Molly and Mick woke to a spectacular morning out here in our undisclosed location. Still groggy, the sun and vistas drew us out to our patio, a bit overgrown with weeds fostered by the spring run-off.

I brewed us some coffee, and when I brought two cups outside, I found Mistress spread across a chaise, still quite naked, her I-phone in hand.

“I sent M some photos, Slave. To show him what he is missing.”

“And what did you show him, Mistress?”

“The Mountains, of course. And a shot of my cunt too.”

“Cruel …. You are such a tease Mistress. But I’m sure it looked good in the morning sunlight.”

Soon we were back in bed. It had been almost 36 hours for Slave. That’s a long time for me, and I was already pretty horny. And the thought of Mistress teasing her long distance Master so wantonly had a little more fuel to my fire.

In bed, I used my used lips and tongue to bring Mistress to her first orgasm of the morning. And, to tell the truth, I would have been happy to plunge into her then and there for a quick and dirty fuck to cut the edge on my desire.

But Mistress had other things in mind.

“I want to taste my cock, Slave.”

“Of course, Mistress.”

She has gotten very good over the last few months at driving me crazy with tongue and fingers . Maybe it was her experience with Sir M, her starter Dom, who liked her on her knees servicing him before he decided how to fuck her. Or it could be all the fantasy talk she’s had with Master M about how he would / will require her to please him. Whatever the inspiration, I am glad to be the beneficiary.

Within a few minutes she had me reduced to an all too pathetic whimpering and craven state, making me beg her repeatedly for the right to fuck her.

When she finally relented, she pushed me onto my back.

“I’m going to ride you for a while Slave. Remember, no coming until I give you permission.”

“Of course, Mistress.”

At this point I seem so well programmed that I don’t think I can come without her permission.

She began a slow and relentless process of grinding her way to the type of orgasm built only with care, patience and a single minded purpose.

And all I could do was provide the very hard cock. And a little chit chat along the way.

“M thinks that I let you come too often, Slave.”

Hmmm. This could be a little unnerving.

“Maybe I should make you wait 2 or 3 more days, Slave. What do you think?”

“He should talk. What with fucking B and jerking off with you, he seems to get off 3 or 4 times a day.”

“Well he is the Master…. But he says it’s very hot and powerful to make you wait between orgasms.”

“I can’t argue with that, Mistress.”

Well you can imagine what this talk was doing to me. And Mistress’s fingers caressing my balls as she rode me, setting her own tempo, was certainly pressing the edge of my will power.

Fortunately, after Mistress came with a nifty explosion of shudders and moans, she seemed to lose focus on her thoughts about orgasm denial, and she allowed me to mount her and, at long last, come with her consent.

The resulting shock and awe left me depleted. I drifted off for a while before the sun shining through our window rejuvenated us enough to begin our day anew.

There was some weedwacking to do, and a long, exhilarating bike ride past pastures and flowing irrigation ditches.

Later, around noon, I had to go down to negotiate the renewal of our little used post office box with the local Post Mistress. She is a short, stocky woman who’s authority in this little village is absolute and uncompromising.

She probably has a riding crop tucked away behind the counter.

She required me to return for more documentation to confirm that, yes, we really are citizens entitled to receive mail. But I elected to take a lunch break before re-engaging with the Post Mistress.

Muffin and beverage in hand, I found Mistress lounging on our patio, back on the chaise. Naked. Phone to her ear.


“Ahhh….here’s my Slave. I’m talking to M, Slave….he’s at work. But he’s giving us … instructions.”

I had a feeling that the muffin I had just bitten into would have to wait.

“He says you are to get on your knees and worship.”

“Of course, Mistress.”

I retrieved a pillow, to save my knees from the hard bricks and red ants, and assumed my assigned position in this little tableau.

“He’s down there, M. Ummmm…. Nice.”

It was nice for me too. Mistress’s lovely parts were already quite damp from sunscreen and her natural juices. A lovely taste and aromatic treat for me, bringing back memories of teenaged lust on New Jersey beaches during the reign of LBJ.

As I looked up, tongue still at work as her hips squirmed to the beat of my ministrations, I saw Mistress’s eyes screwed shut, focused on whatever it was M was murmuring into her ear.

And there was the sound of her voice, thick with arousal, responding to him. Egging him on.

“Yes, M. I want you to do that to me….”

“Oh….yes. that would be amazing.”

“Does this turn you on, M?

“Yes….I’ve been imagining that…..”

Soon Mistress was pumping in desperation against my mouth, her free hand reaching down to press my face harder against her….as she was moaning her pleasure into the phone. With a sudden convulsion, she came once, so very deliciously in response to his command.

But I had not yet been relieved of my duties, so I continued on, with my own relentless devotions.

I could tell he was still spinning some type of dark and delicious fantasy for her, but her responses were incoherent now, as she built herself to yet another, even more enthusiastic climax.

“Oh God, M. I just came again….enough Slave.”

Her hand weakly pressed against my forehead, urging me to back off.

“Is that OK with him, Mistress.”

I did not want to be party to insubordination. Not that this little drama would get any Rolling Stone coverage. That’s become more of a family magazine with the passing of Dr. Thompson.

“He wants to know if he can stop, M.”

“Yes…Slave. He says I’ve had enough….and he has to get back to work.”

Relieved of my command, I slid back, and brushed some errant muffin crumbs off Mistress’s sodden and swollen parts.

Later, when it was time for me to collect my reward, I asked Mistress if she enjoyed her stereo sexual stimulation – with me at her clit and M at her ear.

She just smiled.

“What’s not to like, Slave. ….And, by the way, could you go get the Hitachi. I don’t think I’ve had that since Tuesday night.”

“Of course, Mistress.”

Road Trip

We finally arrived at an airport in the great SW, about a three hour trip from our undisclosed location.

It was past midnight. A three hour drive to our mountain hideaway was in store.

That was Mountain time.

So, as a practical matter, Molly and Mick were pulling an all-nighter.  Our ETA would be about 5 am back in River City.

So how to keep this lively enough to avoid nodding off in some mountain pass?

“Mistress, I think you should take off your pants.”

“Hmmm…that sounds like a good idea Slave.”

She slid them off, parking them somewhere at her feet in out rented Nissan.

The moon was almost full, lighting the high dessert, moonlight dancing off the sage brush and chamisa.

And as I drove, my fingers were roving Mistress’s clean shaven cunt. Keeping her on the edge.

But she was really too sleepy to cross over that edge.

Yet, toying with Mistress, keeping her squirming, inhaling her aroma and occasional licking her juices from my fingers,   helped me stay awake along those moonlit mountain roads, as we wound our way to our destination.

“Wish there was a car adapter for the Hitachi, Mistress.”

“Ummm….”, she groggily responded, “that would be nice, Slave.”

“We could call it a Car-tachi.”

Mistress thought that was clever. She emailed M our idea.

And we talked about our strange, three way relationship to pass the time.

“So why do you think this is OK, Slave. I certainly wouldn’t stand for it.”

“You mean you wouldn’t like me fondling myself to orgasm while talking with some person I met over the internet? While he was riding his bike?

“When you put it that way, It does sound strange, Slave.”

“Mistress, I am cool with it, because it makes you happy and hot….who can argue with that.”

In case you are wondering, we made it to our little hideaway.  We finally crashed around 3:30 am Mountain time. And we were too spent for sex.

The horror.

But we made up for it Friday, as you shall learn with tomorrow’s update.

Now it’s off to a bizarre lounge lizard performance in an ancient Cantina.