HNT/ The Case of the Busy Body Flight Attendant.

Mick and Molly have survived the trip home, and a day back in the fetid air of this Midwestern River Valley. As I type this, Mistress is upstairs, enjoying a “date” with her Master. In anticipation, she required me to unpack the Hitachi and make sure it was plugged in next to the bed, ready in case she was required to put it to use.

And while I look forward to being called on to provide the hard cock she likes after her sessions of smutty talk and forced orgasms, I might as well fill you in on the events of our trip home to pass the time.

Not long after we left our mountain hideaway, Mistress asked if I would mind her calling M to get her morning fix of his compelling voice. There seems to be a mutual addiction between them.

Of course, she had no need to ask me. And I could only say “no problem, Mistress.”

As they talked, Mistress quickly shifting into that flirty, deferential voice that characterizes their chit-chat, I rested my right hand on her thigh. She was wearing one of those short tie-dye dresses she fancies. And my roving fingers discovered she was wearing the black lacy panties that I find particularly fetching.

“M, you should know he’s fondling my thigh….he can’t keep his hands off of me when we talk…..”

“ I recall doing this on that late night drive up here, Mistress….when you were NOT talking.”

(Yes, I probably should only speak when spoken too, but sometimes it’s hard to stifle my wise ass comments.)

“M says you are just asserting your possession of me, Slave.”

Could be.

In any event, after Mistress lost her call to M along a mountain road  particularly stingy with AT&T service, my hand became a bit more persistent. And soon Mistress was squeezing my hand between her thighs, bucking against my pushy little fingers, as I squeezed an orgasm from her needy, clean shaven cunt. No doubt her talk with M had helped to prime the pump.

As we got closer to the airport, and Mistress’s I-phone came back to life, and she giggled over a  a text message from M.

“He says that I have to refrain from any orgasms on this trip, Slave.  He wants to think of my cunt squirming on that airport seat in frustration.”

Well, that horse was already out of the barn.  But it still might be a long day for Mistress if she obeyed his requirements.

“How does that make you, feel, Mistress?”

“Well ….. I can see that it might be frustrating, Slave.   Knowing that I’m not allowed might want me want it even more.”

“I suspect that’s exactly what he’s thinking.”

But before we boarded the first of our connecting flights, M showed the arbitrariness of a skilled Master.

“Now he says he wants me to come in the plane, Slave.”

Why. Mistress?”

“He says I have been a good slave and should be rewarded.”

“And are you doing it in the restroom, or otherwise?”

“He wants you to help, Slave.”

“I will take that as an order, Mistress.”

And so I did., pleased to be his minion in getting my Mistress/ his Slave off.  It was on the last leg of our trip, on one of those tiny-toons planes that passes for an airliner these days. Tight seating, narrow aisles, but at least we had two seats together with no one too close at hand to work around.

The lights were down, and with our little tray-tables blocking the sightlines across the aisle, it was easy for me to worm my fingers back between  Mistress’s legs.

To add a little fuel to the fire, I asked Mistress to consider what it would be like to visit M’s mountain cabin for a few days, and how he might systematically train her to come at his command. Soon Mistress was humping my hand, stifling her moans into my shoulder.

I was happy to help her fulfill her Master’s requrements.

But then later, as we began our approach to River City, Slave and Mistress got a little too greedy. 

“Spread your legs again, Mistress,”, I said, leaning across her, acting as if I was looking out the little port hole window at the bright lights of our “Big” City.

She was accommodating, and my fingers pressed inside the lace of her panties, finding her oh so wet and squirmy.

But then I heard Mistress whispering to me.

“What’s she looking at?”

I turned a bit to peer over my right shoulder, and there was this grandmotherly flight attendant eyeballing us with a judgmental eye.

I  straightened up , chastened, pulling my hand away.  But I was determined to be undeterred. For the next 5 minutes or so, as the plane drew ever closer to the runway,we played a bit of cat and mouse with  this busybody  crone (really no older than me I suspect). She  kept tromping up and down the aisles, causing me to pull away from Mistress each time she passed by, eyeing us with a certain nosey curiosity. 

Finally, she spoke –

“do you have your seat belt on?”

Hmmmm……well, I guess that had slipped my mind.

So I buckled up. And she finally parked herself for landing. And Mistress got to come one more time just as we plopped down onto the runway.

Now she could report to M she had fulfilled his instructions.

Not long after I finished this, Mistress came down stairs,, that look of ditzy bliss on her face. Smiling. Asking me if I had been lonely.

“How many, Mistress?”

“Two, Slave…. But now I need my cock.”

She did not have to ask twice.

Ten Reasons Mick and Molly will miss their Undisclosed Location

Mistress and I are headed back to River City on one of those annoying small planes that the “big” airlines make suckers who live in backwater towns fly on these days. We left a town where the pristine air was 60 degrees during our morning bike ride, with only 20 percent humidity.

Our destination is under a “Heat Emergency” of undetermined duration .

“Are these people crazy?”, you might ask? Well I suppose so. But one surly teen is home alone, no doubt with her boyfriend. And work calls. So it’s time to face the inevitable.

Beyond the weather here are ten things we are sure to miss in the days and weeks to come:

10. In River City, I can’t walk out the door and piss in the yard, with the excuse that I am saving scarce resources. I would be arrested for indecent exposure.

9. In River City the newspapers bring bad news everyday. But in our undisclosed location, the only newspaper is a weekly.

8. The rough hewn wooden beams at our cabin make it easy to screw in a hook, or bind a helpless slave, but in River City our woodwork is a bit too fragile to install such lashing points.

7. Can’t shoot my BB gun at prairie dogs in River City. And the SPCa would get in my face if I aimed at the neighbor’s cat.

6. Near our undisclosed location they let you wade into a private natural hot spring tub, nude (see the picture above), but in River City Mick and Molly get reprimanded at their swim club for an inadvertent PDA.

5. When someone offers you a cookie in our undisclosed location, you don’t have to wonder about how many calories it has, but whether it is loaded with “bud butter”.

4. In our undisclosed location, you have to steer clear of Big Horn Sheep and Black Bears; in River City you need to avoid Panhandlers and Tea Partiers.

3. Mistress be back to her 9-5 days and in a different time zone than her Master, making their erotic “dates” harder to schedule.

2. It will be Hard to schedule another naked Sunday anytime soon.

1.Mistress’s tan lines will reassert themselves. She did look fetching all naked and sun screened on that chaise lounge!

Heading Back to River City. Damn.

We hit the long road back soon, after one more bike ride through our little piece of heaven. But we will miss the rare opportunity for a week away without surly teens, the pressure of work, or that damnable river valley humidity. “Heat emergency”, here we come.

Mistress has made her Slave grow his beard out these last few days. In my opinion, one reason is that Master M, has some fluffy facial hair, as demonstrated by the photo that pops up when he calls Mistress on her I-phone.

So, on the 4th, when two of our local female friends commented on my newly scruffy look, and asked what was up, I simply told the truth:

“Molly is having fantasies about having sex with a guy with a beard. I am just trying to accommodate her.”

Of course they just laughed at my “clever joke”. If only they knew the hi-jinks of their seemingly bland friends from the “conservative” heartland!

Yesterday we wallowed in the waters at a local Hot Springs Resort (no private pool this time), enjoyed an al fresco dinner on our patio, watched another amazing lipstick sunset from our front porch, then joined some friends for dancing and a few drinks under the stars on the lawn nearby Roadhouse.

It was the perfect way to end a perfect vacation.

When we got home, higher up the mountain, away from the ambient light of that busier part of “town”, the stars were out in their complete glory, the milky way a creamy blur arching above us.

Mistress and Slave were both naked by the time we stepped outside our bedroom to catch the show, clinging for warmth in the cool mountain air.

And then, as we retreated to our bedroom, I “thought out loud”.

“Gotta remember to pack my little white probe, Mistress.”

“Hmmmm….is that a request, Slave….”

“Well…..”

“Why don’t you put it in now, Slave….that might be the best reminder….”

“Of course, Mistress.”

And when I came to bed, probe duly inserted, my cock was already beginning to stir.

We clung, kissed, my fingers sliding between Mistress’s legs, as we talked about what a wonderful trip it had been. And soon Mistress was tipping over into orgasm land, coming with a little shudder and stifling a moan into my shoulder.

Her fingers had, by then, slid down to cozy my cock.

“”Oh my, already hard for me, Slave. Nice….very nice.”

She invited me to fuck her, and I did not take the time to RSVP.

And as I did my “duty”, varying the pace, I explained how well she had me trained.

“I really don’t think I could come without your permission any longer, Mistress….you have me programmed.”

“I like that Slave”, she said between those little moaning sounds she makes as I pump into her, “but I don’t think I really have tried to program you…it just turned out that way.”

“Really, not even a little, Mistress?”

“Well, maybe a little….”

“It’s nice to be programmed, Mistress….takes away difficult choices. I just need to wait for your invitation, and then I am ready.”

I had backed off a bit, and was using my finger to diddle Mistress’s clit, even as I continued to slide my hips this way and that against her.

“Mmmm….that’s good Slave.”

Exactly what was good – what I had said, or what I was doing - was unclear. But good is good.

By now my fingers were frantically rubbing her naughty parts, as my other hand pinned her arms above her head. All the while my cock was plunging into her. She was oh so close….

“How would that feel if M programmed you Mistress …. Made it so you could come only with his permission, the way I am programmed by you.”

“I don’t know Slave…..”, she seemed genuinely confused.

But Somehow those thoughts of such complete submission to her long distance Master were just a little too much for her, and her hips launched into some powerful convulsions against my own. Her head was thrown back, eyes screwed shut. It was a poteny one, if I do say so myself.

And it was about then that I proved my point.

“Mistress, may I come….”

“Yes, Slave, you may.”

Mistress Meets Some New Toys.

Molly and Mick were out rather late Saturday night, listening to a local band with some friends at a funky old road house. There was dancing and drinking and great people watching.

So when we woke a bit groggily Sunday morning, with big plans for the 4^th, Mistress seemed to think that my switch privileges would slip my mind. 

Think again, Mistress.

After I made us  lattes and let her read yesterday’s entry, I told her to gird herself for an hour or so as my little subbie. She whined a bit, but was a good sport as I locked the red cuffs on her, then tied her hands to opposite corners of the bed, face up. Some leather cuffs joined her ankles closely together.

I kissed her a bit, fondling her lovely breasts, making her all nice and squrimy. Then excused myself from the room to retrieve some items recently ordered from Amazon, with guidance from SFP, our blogger colleague from Peacefully Submissive.

“Where are you going, Slave?”

“Back in a moment, Mistress.”

Mistress became both animated and vocal when I returned a moment later to show her our new toys: two nipple clamps that operate like little vices, as they screw down onto their targets.

“Oh, no you, don’t Slave…..”

“Oh, yes, Mistress….remember our rules. Sunday you are mine…..”

Our previous experiment with clamps a few months back had not gone well. The devices we tried were either too loose, and would fall off, or too tight, and would be simply too painful for my beloved Mistress. I was hoping these new little pinchers would solve the problem.

It took a cube of ice to help make Mistress’s nipples sufficiently firm and perky. Thankfully I had tied her down well, because she made every effort to avoid the inevitable, squirming away, accusing me of the most vile betrayal. (I suppose a gag would have helped. Maybe next time.)

But with my leg pressing against her hips to help keep her still, I was able to screw one clamp then the other on effectively. And they stayed on without producing tears or too much pain.

When I was done, I used the melting cube of ice to tease Mistress’s cunt a bit. She squirmed and yelped a bit more as the cold surface met her toasty clit.

But when I raised the swiftly melting cube to my lips, I was delighted by the musky taste of her arousal.

“Wow, very nice, Mistress. Tastes great. You must be pretty turned on. We could market this as a cunt-cicle.”

Mistress seemed to miss the humour.

“How are the clips, Mistress?”, I asked, hoping they were not too intolerable.

“ummmm…interesting, Slave.”

I took that as a sign that the experiment had been successful so far. Then pushed onto the next stage of our morning’s activities.

“Let’s see if they stay on as we get a bit more... physical, Mistress.”

She just gave me a withering look.

“Mistress, I want you to imagine that M decided to abandon his resolve for a day and pop down for a visit. I’ve prepared you for him, and just now he’s pulling into the driveway and is about to meet you in the flesh  for the first time.”

“mmmmm ….. OK, Slave.”

My fingers were sliding through her naked lips, making her cunt rise to meet them. A tongue just touched the tip of her left nipple where it poked through the little plastic vice. She screwed shut her eyes, making interesting sounds. Was it pain, or pleasure? Either way, I liked the result.

“How would it feel to meet him for the first time like this, all naked and restrained  and so very vulnerable?”

“It would be embarrassing….humiliating, Slave.”

“Exactly.”

The Hitachi was on hand and I flipped it on.

“And what if he ordered you to order me to lock on my cage then, so his would be the only cock available to you for the duration….would you follow his order, Mistress?”

She moaned a bit as I pressed the little churning bulb between her bound legs.

“I suppose I would have to, Slave.”

We went on with the fantasy as I used the device on her to build her just to the brink of an explosive orgasm, with me teasing her out, moving the machine on and off the parts that would take her over the edge. It makes her so wonderfully desperate.

But then I remembered something, and switched the power tool off.

“Hey….what are you doing, Slave?”

She was more than a little miffed.

“Getting the camera, Mistress. I suspect M and the rest of our readers will want to see what these new clips look like.”

A groan of frustration was heard as I stepped out of the room. But soon I was back, and snapped the photo above.

These clips are keepers. (Just hope Mistress does not try to experiment with these on me.)

“Now, where were we, Mistress?”

I started from scratch. Our guests would not be arriving for 3 hours or so.

So there was more kissing, stroking, and then more Hitachi. This time I was not cruel, but enjoyed making Mistress go over the top with lots of moaning and gyrating enthusiasm.

And then she got my desperately hard cock, still bound by her arms to the bed. All in all she seemed to relish a Switch morning that she had probably hoped to avoid.

And when I released the clips, her nipples were still intact.

“So how were they Mistress?”

“Not terrible, Slave….,” she admitted grudgingly.

Actually, I think they will grow on her. I am already thinking of new ways to use them. It’s a shame we have to wait until Sunday.