HNT / Command Performance

Mistress asked “what are you doing, Slave”, as I took this picture of her perky nipple peeking out from beneath her lacy nighttime confection.

It was Sunday morning. She was staked out on our bed, spread eagle style, waiting for the feather.

“Just stocking up on some photos for your many fans, Mistress.”

I hope you readers in Abu Dabi, Germany, France, England, New Zealand like these little glimpses of My Mistress’s physical charms.


I knew I was due some form of punishment for several unfortunate and impertinent comments I made Monday evening. Mistress is really pretty easy on me, but what’s the point in having a Slave who gives you “back sass”, as my grandmother used to put it.

There have to be consequences.

I had a hint of what they might be by Tuesday evening.

“Slave… tomorrow wake me around 6:45…. You can lick me when I read the blog. But no sex for you. We’ll be going on a morning bike ride instead.

“Of course, Mistress.”

So Mistress was worshiped. Then we were off in the pre-dawn glow. It was great for my body and my head to get the heart pumping so early, and watch the sun come up and light those glorious fall leaves.

So the denial of my normal morning sexual release was hardly frustrating.

Yesterday, Mistress dressed the part for fall. Black mid-thigh dress, black tights, And these new over the knee black boots that was an addition to her fall/winter wardrobe.

Hot.

I must share some pictures of those soon.

I knew she would be getting some jaw dropping looks as she strode about downtown.

And, on the commute to work, as I let my fingers slide across the soft fabric containing her recently exercised thighs, I already was regretting not getting that morning release.

We attended a political event that evening after work, and we enjoyed each other's company as we chatted up the crowd. I appreciated the looks that Mistress and her shiny high boots were getting, There may have been a few potential applicants for Slave2 on hand.

By the time we got home, I was hoping that my sentence would be commuted. And it seemed that way as we spread ourselves across the bed and talked for a while with Aisha.

It’s always a surprise to hear the voice of someone you’ve come to know through the written word. Her voice is a bit deeper than you might think, with a knowing and open laugh. And she comes with a soft, regional twang that came, for no good reason, as a bit of a surprise. She could be cast in the kink remake of “Gone With the Wind”, topping Rhett from below. Tara will come with a dungeon this time.

We can’t wait to meet her and Sir D as they guide us through what is sure to me an “interesting” experience.

It’s nice to have even more fodder for our kinky fantasies, and inspiration for our own experiments.

As we talked, Mistress was pointed north on the bed, and me south, with our speaker phone in the middle. It gave me the chance to suck on her toes, her tights already peeled off, and, from time to time, slide my fingers up her legs to tease at those soft, damp folds.

Mistress’s sweet, musky aroma was part of the conversation, at least to me. And it was telling me “soon, Slave, soon.”

As a consequence, I probably terminated our chat a little prematurely.

“Well, Aisha, this was fun. But we have some things to take care of here…..Let’s talk again soon.”

I’m not sure she understood what I had in mind, but I do apologize if it seemed abrupt.

But as I tucked the phone a way. Mistress gave me the bad news.

“Slave, I think I’m a little tired tonight. You will have to wait until morning.”

Damn.

A stealth abstinence day.

“That’s only fair Mistress…. After how I handled things the other night.”

“Yes…. It is Slave.”

But there is a “happy ending”. Or was.

Around 3:35 am, I was woken by a little whisper from Mistress.

A woke to realize that my arm was draped between her legs. I could feel those subtle undulations already, her hips discretely moving against me.

“You are now allowed to fuck me slave….”

Well I was a little groggy, true. But I shook myself out of that middle of the night lethargy,

I was not going to make that mistake again.

“Thank you, Mistress….”

Out of the Tunnel

I didn’t mention it yesterday – probably because I was not sure exactly how it would turn out.  But Tuesday night Mistress and Slave hit one of those little emotional bumps in the road. Unsurprisingly, it revolved around that other person Mick mistakenly got involved with some time ago (check out our first blog “Election night”, last 11/14 for more details).

It’s a painful  subject that sometimes rears it’s ugly head. Thankfully, not too frequently in recent months. No need to go into the details here. But it continues to be a challenge for Mistress.

 Understandable.

In any event, there were tears, harsh words, and in the end, as we cuddled in bed, Slave was very wrung out. It was one of those nights (rare) when there was no sex in the Collins bed.

And that was an issue too.  Mistress would have preferred some tender, passionate make-up sex to put us back on track. Slave was emotionally exhausted. I really don’t think I could have made it happen, even if I had tried, which could have made Mistress feel even worse.

So we tossed and turned a bit. Mistress took her laptop outside for a while. Hopefully she  vented a bit to our Western Correspondent via email.  He is a good and supportive resource for her at moments like this.

Mistress did rally a bit before we drifted off.

“Tomorrow you’re wearing the cage, Slave.”

“Of course, Mistress.”

It was a sign of light at the end of our dark evening in the tunnel.

By morning, the angst had passed for me. I was up, as you loyal readers know, typing away.  And when I went upstairs to present Mistress with my morning assignment, she seemed pleased to see me too.

We’ve learned – from experience -  that in times of darkness, the only course is to move forward. Together.

“I have the ring on already, Mistress.”

She reached down, fondled my cock and balls, felt for the hard steel ring that captured my balls and cock as a foundation for my cage.

Twitch.

“Ummm…. Good Slave.  Although I’m not sure I’m going to let you come this morning after you turned me down last night.”

And of course, that just made me harder.

As she read, I used my lips and tongue to please her.

Then, laptop pushed aside, she deployed her well manicured finger tips to drive me crazy.

“Are you sure you wouldn’t like me to fuck you, Mistress?”

“I just might, Slave…. But I’ll decide whether you get to come… don’t get ahead of yourself.”

She slid on top of me.

“I do like what that ring does to your cock Slave …. So hard.”

No fooling. The harder I get, the tighter it squeezes, capturing all that blood in the “work-a-day” cock  she was riding so enthusiastically  for her own pleasure.

And her fingernails, reaching back, taunting my balls….it all conjures up a cunning mixture of intense pleasure spiced with  a certain degree of pain as the ring’s grip inexorably tightens.

I’m squeezing her nipples.  She’s riding me more furiously.

Somehow, during all this the subject of that upcoming play party with Aisha and Sir D comes up.

“I should make you wear the cage, Slave…. But what else?”

“Up to you, Mistress.”

“A leash?”

“Maybe, or some handcuffs…. We need to talk to Aisha about the protocols….”

“I suppose….”

“But what if you catch the eye of some enticing Dom, Mistress … you might end up on the end of his leash….”

That interesting juxtaposition seemed to appeal to Mistress. She came with a shudder and moan that shook the bed, collapsing onto me.

I was concerned that this might be the abrupt ending for our morning’s encounter.

But Mistress was merciful.

“That was nice Slave”, she murmured into my ear, chest still heaving as she caught her breath. 

“I’m going to roll over now, and let you fuck me. Just remember to ask permission before you come”

Ahhhh.

For those of you keeping track of such things, she snapped the lock on my cage before I headed to work.  Mistress was headed to our flat state capitol with one of her minions. So we were out of touch most of the day.

I was allowed to worship her when we both found our ways back home at around 6 pm.

“I suppose I could unlock the cage now, Slave …. But since you are going to that meeting, maybe I will just leave you safe and secure until you get home.”

I went to the meeting, safe and secure for her.

The cage didn’t come off until about 9 pm last night.

Another “Ahhh”  moment.

And yes, moving forward, the darkness of the tunnel in the rear view mirror for now, there was sex in the Collins bed last night.

Making Plans

First off – today’s illustration. I was on deadline yesterday morning, and did not have the time to download a photo of Mistress with her new friend: the black turkey feather. Thanks to ‘Nilla and our Western Correspondent for their inspiration.

I plan to make sure that high priced (29 cent) feather gets put to good use.

One thing I haven’t mentioned, so far, are some plans that Molly and Mick are making: a few weekends hence we will be traveling down river to meet up with Aisha and her Sir D for one of those munch / play party extravaganza’s she has been writing about to great erotic effect these last few weeks.

Of course, the thought of blog world colliding with reality brings a certain sense of excitement, mingled with danger. But, all in all, Aisha and her friends don’t seem too dangerous.

Molly and Mick are semi-notorious in our Vanilla identities here in River City, so we have steered clear of any “community” activities hereabouts, though there seem to be plenty. We have jobs, kids, families, reputations to guard.

But the thought of quietly slinking into another community, where we can be good old Mick and Molly, has mucho allure.

When Aisha gave us the upcoming date over the weekend, Mistress was quick to remind me of a wedding (the third) for a female friend on our social calendar that same eveing. But then she quickly blew it off:

“We can always go to the next one, Slave…. Meeting Aisha and her friends sounds like so much more fun.”

So we were quickly on the computer, looking for chambers in one of the charming B & B’s down Aisha’s way. Alas. There is some big event there that weekend. So we made a reservation at a more generic spot, not far from the evening’s venues.

Yesterday, after some end of the day worship, we went on a sunset bike ride. The leaves here in River City are in their full vivid fall colors now, and the low sun lit them up with a brilliant flare. Beautiful.

As we coasted down the backside of the long hill we had climbed, Mistress mentioned that she had talked earlier in the day with M about our upcoming plans. Sounds like he was a little envious.

“ I told him we couldn’t find a romantic B & B Slave…. We had to settle for the vanilla variety. But he said that’s probably a good thing …. “

“Why’s that Mistress?”

“ He said it’s hard to have raucous sex in a romantic B & B…. once he and B had some scene going at some rustic Inn in Nova Scotia … he spanked her and apparently made lots of noise doing it…. The next day the folks at breakfast gave him some pretty nasty looks….”

“Hmmmm …. Hadn’t thought if that…. But then I bet you and I are a bit quieter than the Western Correspondent might be.”

They also talked about how a couple presents themselves at one of these kinky soirées.

“M wondered whether we’d go as Mistress and Slave?”

“What are you thinking, Mistress?”

“I don’t know … maybe we just go as “normal””.

“Wouldn’t that be a little rude? They might think we were just gawkers… rather than part of their crowd. It would sort of be like us showing up as Mistress and Slave at that wedding when everyone else came as straight … except for the bridesmaids in drag, of course….”

Yeah. It was going to be that type of wedding.

It was clear Mistress was now running through her wardrobe options. There is no advice column on what to wear to your first “Play Party” is there?

“I don’t think I’m going to wear one of those rope dresses, Slave”

“You don’t wear that Mistress …. You take your cloths off and someone ties it on you….”

She obviously had not been reading Aisha’s blog with sufficient attention to the prurient detail.

This could all get very complicated.



“So how do you think we go should, Slave?”

“Let’s check with Aisha …. But I am assuming I go as your Slave…. Unless you want it to be Switch Day 12 hours earlier than normal?”

Yes. That could be fun.

Mistress said she needed to think about that.

Slave Blinks

It turns out Mistress is quite ticklish.

There she was bound spread eagled on our bed. Not quite stretched out enough though. Because when she began to squirm – as the tip of the feather ran across the sole of her foot, or along the inside of her strong arms – she was able to pull away just a it stretching the fabric of the long beach towel strips that bound her legs to the bed.

There was no manic laughing though. She was sensitive the the sullen wisdom toothless teen, stalking the hallways, a little buzzed on the percocet that the dentist had given her to help with the pain. No need to make her think her mother was in peril.

Just lots of squirming.

I fed her my cock, to give her a little break.

Fucked her a bit, reminding her that M’s recommendation for Sunday was that she be teased but not allowed to come until later in the day.

She made nice little moaning sounds as my Work-a-day cock slid effortlessly into her, her limbs stretched so wide.

Mistress does helpless well.

“I need to focus Slave, when I’m not allowed to come. It’s a whole different mindset.”

Yes, Mistress. Been there. And (not) Done that.

When it seemed I had taken that liberty as far as seemed fair and responsible to her, I slid out, and reached for the feather again.

It turns about that with a little extra sexual tension built up, Mistress is parituclarly sensitive when the tip of a feather is slowly dragged through that little crease in her folds.

Her hips jerked, she pulled at her leg bindings, making the bed literally graon along with her. Suddenly she was bucking for all she was worth.

“Did you just come, Mistress?”

It seemed like it to me….

“No, Slave…. That was just…. Well…. Frustrating.”

I was not so sure that she hadn’t snuck one in on me, But I took her at her word.

Then reached for the Hitachi.

“You’re not using that are you, Slave.”

The sweet indignation in her voice was amusing.

“Of course. That’s what M suggested. He wanted me to tease you with the feather that ‘Nilla suggested, then tease some more with the Hitachi. But not let you come…”

“He didn’t!”

“Oh yes…. Remember his text “I threw you under the bus today, Slave?” or something like that. You read it to me.”

Somehow Mistress had missed that part. For shame. The anticipation would have haunted her for a day or more.

The Hitachi was on low. Mistress’s inflamed little clit responded as you might expect.

It was the first time Mistress begged me to stop, trying her best to pull away and avoid it’s inevitable toll.

“You can’t do that anymore, Slave….. not if you expect me to not come.”

Was that a double or triple negative. I guess that’s what happens when the Hitachi combines with an orgasm quarantine.

She was so desperate and clever that she somehow got her legs to close, muscles straining better than any Nuatilus machine might require from her.

But I foxed her by sliding the Hitachi between her thighs from below, worming it back into place until it was pressed just so between those molten lips.

“Oh god, Slave…..can’t I please come .”

That’s when I broke. The thought of her waiting all day for it, while I was at the football game just seemed too much. I would have to hide the Hitachi. No doubt M would be in touch, importuning her to come for him.

Plus, at bottom (pun intended, ‘Nilla and Aisha) I am a softy. Mistress need was there to be filled, and it was harder (maybe) on me than on her not to fill it.

“OK, Mistress, I will consider your request …. But I want to hear begging….”

And, of course, she begged. There were “please, Slave, can I come’s” out the whazoo. Lots of whimpering. Much squirming as I let her sit on the brink for a minute or so.

I love that sound of desperation in Mistress’s voice.

Finally I relented.

“Yes, Mistress, you may come….”

With the caution flag down, Mistress wound herself up around the churning head of our power tool, her body taking the plunge as her hips rose off the bed.

I was glad I had the music on, to bury those choice and delicious sounds she made.

And I forced another, deeper one from her before mounting her again for my own reward – a process that I was in no mood to rush.

Afterwards, once Mistress was unbound, I wondered if our readers would be disappointed – particularly M.

AS it turns out, while Mistress made a brief trip to the grocery, he called to get an update.

“He wanted to know how Switch day went, Slave?”

“I’m sure he was curious about how his Slave handled all that “torture” Mistress. But was he disappointed that I let you come?”

“I don’t think he was surprised, Slave. I told him that he would probably have relented under the circumstances too.”

“And what did he say to that, Mistress?”

“He said, probably true if it was the first time we were together. Or had not seen each other in months. But not if he got to have sex with me every day!”

Sorry big guy. You had to be here!