HNT / Focus

Mistress has an early curtain call this morning, dear readers … so just time for a (blog) quickie.

So after stoking Mistress’s flame a bit yesterday with lips and tongue as she read the blog… but denying her an orgasm per our Western Correspondent’s direction, I got her bad news after I climbed from the shower.

“Bad news Slave.  M has to cancel on me this morning. Something about a glitch in his kids’ school schedule”.

By now I was on a work deadline of my own, with no time to come to her wanton rescue.

Poor Mistress.

We would both be heading to work, in separate cars, in a state of anticipation.

(That is if Mistress did not take advantage of her free time for some self-help with her Hitachi. One can only speculate.)

Plus, because of a lunch engagement where a security check would be in place, I could not be asked to wear my steel cage.

We did meet at the lunch. Mistress was one of the organizers. The guest of honor was a rather recognizable world religious and political figure. In the spirit of this blog’s tradition of preserving the anonymity of our characters, let’s just call him “Quatorce”.

AS a Buddhist, he’s clearly big on meditation, and talked about the importance of “focus”: picking one thing to meditate on each morning to clear and focus the brain.

Impressive dude. Plus he had a color coordinated visor to go with those saffron robes.

When we finally converged again at home, Mistress seemed to appreciate the worship she was offered before our bike ride. And we adjourned to our chambers for good once the teens were fed.

I was instructed to insert my little white probe.

“I need a very hard one tonight, Slave.”

“Of course, Mistress.”

It does do wonders. Not that I needed much help. It had been almost 24 hours.

And as we settled in for a long siege, Mistress mentioned something M had shared earlier in the day, when they talked on her drive home.

“M mentioned that you are a real specialist when it comes to oral sex, Slave… he thinks it’s amazing how much time you spend down there….”

“Well, like Quatorce said today, Mistress …. It’s all about focus. I could do it for hours, couldn’t I….”

“Ummmm…. Yes, Slave.”

I was helping her slide out of those transparent panties on display above, ready to dive in.

“Doesn’t M like to do that?”

“Well I get the impression he does it some, but it’s not his specialty … like it is yours, Slave.”

“What is his specialty …. Driving the special occasion cock into whatever orifice might be available at the moment, with great force?”

“Yeah …. I suppose that’s it, Slave.”

Mistress Preps for her Date with our Western Correspondent

One thing I forgot to mention in our blog earlier this week – about our switch day and Mistress’s multiplicity of orgasms – was the feedback she got from M, our Western Correspondent.

“He says it really turned him on, Slave…. The thought if me being ‘forced’ to have all those orgasms…. You using the Hitachi on me….That’s one reason why he was masturbating yesterday … despite all that epic sex he had with B.”

Of course, that puts a smile on Slave’s face. I do write the blog primarily to amuse Mistress. To show my love for her. But there is a charge that comes from knowing that some of you readers get a little sexual jolt of your own when you pop open UCTMW out there.

I imagine that there are guys like M who can’t help touching themselves as they ponder our adventures, or gaze at Mistress’s lovely body chunks arranged for your amusement.

(Mistress also told me an interesting tid-bit about what made M get in touch via comments and then emails back in December of 2009, almost a year ago.

“He said it was that photo of me bent over the picnic table, Slave …. He knew we were probably somewhere in his neck of the woods…. It got him curious….”

Here is the link, and the photo. That was an interesting day in the annals of Molly and Mick.

http://undercontracttomywife.blogspot.com/2009/12/mistress-gets-spanking.html
I’ll bet it got M more than curious.)

And I like to imagine some of our female readers squirming a bit over their coffees in the morning, or maybe tucked into bed at night, sliding a finger or two (or maybe an Hitachi?), under the sheets as they put themselves in Mistress’s boots as she toys with her Slave or suffers through the torment of yet another switch day.

And then there maybe some couples – not unlike us – who read about our activities and use them as inspiration for a little fun of their own.

We’ve been there and done that.

Example: Last evening, before our bedtime activities, I suggested that Mistress read Aisha’s little fantasy from her morning post, which seemed to prime the pump nicely.

So it’s nice to think we are passing the smutty favor forward to the rest of you.

Mistress was a little down yesterday morning though. After our morning activities, she scrolled through her calendar, and noticed an entry.

“Damn…. I forgot about that meeting Thursday morning. There goes my date with M….”

“That sucks, Mistress…. Maybe he can reschedule…. You know I don’t mind if you take an hour some evening….”

“That’s usually bad for him, Slave….”

But by our drive home, Mistress was feeling better.

“I’m staying home in the morning Slave…. I’ve rescheduled with M….and he has some rules ….”

“Yes, Mistress….”

“We can fuck tonight, but no orgasms for me in the morning….”

“No problem Mistress…. Are you sure it’s OK for tonight…. We wouldn’t want to have you anything but very desperate for him…. Why don’t you ask?”

“Let’s not tempt him, Slave…”

So Mistress did allow me to worship her when I got home. AS I knelt before those widely spread thighs she shared a bit of M’s day with me.

“It sounds like he and B had epic sex again this morning Slave…. She got all dommy with him… lots of spanking….”

“Wow. That’s not happened in a while…. I wonder if his ass is still sore….”

And later, after Mistress came, hips jerking against my face… she tapped away on her I-phone to ask our question.

It didn’t take long for her to get a response.

“He says it went away. He’s got a pretty tough ass…. But now that he’s on his bike…it’s a little tender.”

Later last night, as we got one more orgasm for her under the wire before her embargo kicked in, I asked Mistress what she thought about her Master getting spanked by his wife.

“I don’t know Slave…. It must really be a turn on for him. And her.”

“Maybe they can both spank you some day, Mistress. Would you like that?”

Mistress seemed confused, befuddled, excited by the thought. Her response was garbled as she came for me, moaning as I pumped into her, a finger stroking her clit to amplify the effect.

So many options.

Such a variety of stimuli.

What’s a Mistress to do?

But now I have a problem. I’ve gotten up. Stoked your imaginations. Read some of your smutty entries of the day: ‘Nilla. Aisha. Yikes.

“No touching, Mick.”

And Mistress is off limits.

It could be a long day.

Appetites

Some of the comments we got after Slave’s attempt at “orgasm overload” on our switch day Sunday got us talking here in the Collins’ household about sexual appetites.

Mistress was pretty tender after all the “abuse” she absorbed on Sunday from her favorite power tool. So we passed on early morning sex, and Mistress settled for one of those finger induced comes as she clung to me in our shower.

Then, on our drive home, Mistress shared a bit of her day’s text message trail with our Western Correspondent.

“He says he’s feeling deprived, Slave….”

“Huh?  I thought you said that he and B had ‘epic’ sex over the weekend….. “

“But that was yesterday, this is today.”

Mistress giggles. She says she feels like his confessor sometimes, getting the full orgasm count. Though I expect he demands the same from her.

“And  he didn’t  masturbate today?  That’s not like him.”

“Oh he did…. Twice he says.”

“Man…. He should be happy …. I’m not even allowed to touch.”

“Yeah…. That’s what I said ….’stop the whining…  but he just threatened to impose an orgasm embargo if I didn’t watch out….”

“Oh dear…. Wouldn’t that be a horror for you, Mistress.”

I think she caught my sarcasm, as my finger roamed up the inside of her thigh, along the smooth black fabric of her tights.

Obviously, this Slave is quite content with allowing Mistress to be the “decider” when it comes to my coming. Usually it’s twice a day, with an occasional abstinence day thrown in. She seems to know when I need it, and when a little denial might make me all the more desperate for her. And she does enjoy a desperate Slave.

“How old is M …. 51 maybe…. I don’t think I was quite that desperate to come all the time 8 years ago, Mistress.”

“You, Slave…. If anything we probably did it less back then….but now I have you  well trained to please me.”

“Glad you think so Mistress….”

“It is funny how much M needs to come Slave….I know  you would like to test whether you are woman enough to quench his appetites, Mistress….”

She got that dreamy, far way look in her eye.

“I suppose so, Slave….”

I like those little involuntary squirms Mistress displays when the subject of his special occasion cock comes to mind.

“Do you think M is a little out there though, or am I the one who is ‘under-sexed’, satisfied with once or twice a day?”

She laughed.

“Well, we did find him through a sex blog, Slave…. Maybe that should tell us something.”

Yes. I guess that is a sort of self-selecting pool.

Flooding the Zone

It’s a football term: when an offensive team overloads one side of the field with a slew of receivers, making it too hard for the defensive team to cover all of them at once.

That was the strategy I had selected for switch day this week. After reading about two many of you out there on extended orgasm denial at the arbitrary command of your BBD’s I figured I would be amusing to see what happens when Mistress is required to absorb too many orgasms.

Actually, I was curious to see if that was possible: if she would ever really cry “No mas”, and throw in the towel. Or would she simply lay back, relax and enjoy.

But when I woke with this plan confirmed on my scheming little brain, I found this little note from our Western Correspondent jammed under our electronic transom:




“I vote for more tickling and teasing .. for a LONG time!

tied spread eagled

but no cumming!

would do her good to wait!

If [our two NFL teams] win then she can cum! lol

We will turn her into a football fan yet

lol... make it happen on orders from the WC

as always your humble WC.”



Well it was tempting to simply follow orders, and drive Mistress crazy with denial. But I figured my plan was a good one, and this strategem could wait for the next episode of “Switch Day”. Sorry Big Fella’. Orders acknowledged, but deferred just a bit. Now Mistress knows what she has to look forward to next weekend already.

When Mistress let me know she was awake yesterday morning, I brought up the papers, reached for the Hitachi and explained to Mistress her sad fate for the day.

“You mean we aren’t going to read the paper first, Slave….”

“Sorry, Mistress don’t want to fall behind schedule. I am shooting for at least one orgasm an hour today…. And I have those errands to run at 11, so there will have to be some hours with a few more.

Mistress rolled over in a bit of a pout. But it was simple to slide the Hitachi between her firm, muscular butt cheeks and make contact where I knew it would just be a matter of time before…..

“Oh… and you need to beg to come each time, Mistress….”

That sounds easier said than done.

That first time she begged nicely….


“Please may I come, Slave….”

“You may, Mistress.”

But as I fucked her afterwards, she suddenly was coming again….without permission.

“Did you forget something, Mistress?”

“Oops…. It’s hard to be programmed so quickly, Slave.”

But the next time, as I pumped into her while using my finger to strum her needy little clit, she remembered her place.

“May I come again, Slave….”

“Of course you may…. You good little slut.”

So it began. 3 or 4 that first session.

Read the papers for a while.

Orgasm.

More reading.

Orgasm.

Get dressed for bike ride. But before we “saddle Up”, Mistress was bent over the bed and the Hitachi was applied to her.

“Nice begging, Mistress.”

And of course, each time the musky scent of Mistress’s sopping folds filled the room.

After the bike ride I had to quickly shower before heading off to an appointment downtown and to visit my cranky Mother.

And being a Slave at heart, I was persuaded to put on my cock cage. On switch day even.

But before I left, there was another quick but potent orgasm for Mistress, with her riding shorts hiked down just far enough to accommodate her favorite power tool.

When I came home at around 2 pm, Mistress was working with Surly teen No. 1 on college applications. I did not want to interrupt, but then I had fallen behind schedule.

“Could you come upstairs briefly, dear….”

Mistress had on a short black cotton dress. I suggested it might be easier for the both of us if she simply loose her panties for the rest of the day. She agreed, and after they were shed, Mistress was bent over the bed again for another one.

By now she was coming in less than a minute with the use of that efficient tool.

AS she finished up with our petulant daughter, who of course knows much more about getting into college than her two parents who actually have gone to college, Slave raked some leaves. Then I joined Mistress on our deck to peruse the Times.

But before Mistress was allowed to nap, there was a brief march up to our room for another session with the Hitachi. By now the little white ball oozed her scent before it was even switched on.

After we both napped in the sun, we decided to adjourn to our bedroom. And once Mistress had another Hitachi induced come, I elected to fuck her again.

Despite her training, she forgot to beg yet again. A spanking was promised, and delivered.

By now, my count was at around 15.

Mistress made her award winning chili for dinner. She suggested a little post-sinner stroll. So we headed off into a beautiful fall evening, sun just setting, swirling colorful leaves underfoot.

I suppose Mistress had paid her dues through the day, but I had yet to hear “No Mas.” So Slave was looking for a setting that could put a punctuation point on our day.

Unfortunately, it seemed there was still a bit too much light to press her up against a neighbor’s tree and force my fingers up between her squirmy thighs.

But then….

In our little business district there is a community arts center, and outside there was a vividly painted piano, with it’s own bench.

Part of a inter-active music display all around town.

Ah-hah.

“Let’s sit on the bench and tickle the ivories, Mistress.”

Since Mistress knows I am no pianist, I think the light bulb went off quickly.

“You, wouldn’t….”

So as the neighbors strolled by across the street, and the police squad car drifted past, Slave and Mistress sat side by side on the bench. My right hand tapped the keys as my left strummed between Mistress’s tender but damp folds.

Soon she was shuddering and quaking for me, stifling that little moan of release.

“Enough, Slave…..”

My work here was done. At least until next Sunday.