Mistress Gets a Spanking

Mistress stopped by for some worship after lunch on Thursday, allowing me to take this picture of her as she makes her luscious cunt available for suitable worship. Hot lace up boots, don’t you think?

But that’s not what this entry is about…..is it?

No. Our sordid little tale of the day begins on our drive home.

“I think the Western Correspondent is a little pissed at me, Slave.”

This peaked my curiosity. Much more interesting than the gossip we had been sharing about the local non-profit poo-bahs.

“Oh really, Mistress…. Why would that be?”

“I told him maybe I need a REAL boyfriend…. Not one I just talk to on the phone or trade text messages with….”

This part got the attention of other parts of me.  Actually a specific part.

Twitch. Damn. How predictable.

“Oh, really….. I bet that might get M a little annoyed, Mistress.”

I was going to ask for a little more detail, a rationale for her provocation, but then the chime on her text message went off.

I didn’t need to be told who it was asking for her attention.

“He says I need a spanking, Slave….”

“I am always happy to oblige, Mistress. Sunday is just a few days away.”

“I’m telling him ‘who put you in charge’”.

A few seconds later I heard the little chime again.  She giggled. And she squirmed  just a tad too. Mistress has her own tell-tale twitch.

“He says, ‘you did, Slave’….”

Ask him if I should advance that spanking to this evening, Mistress.

A few moments later we got M’s response.

“He says I should get ten hard ones tonight, with the shoe horn, Slave.”

Suddenly Mistress was in a compliant mood.

Inttiguing.

We arrived home, Mistress got some lasagna ready and popped it in the oven. Then it was upstairs to our Chambers.

I switched on the Evening News to dampen any unsavory  sounds for curious teens. Don’t want them to think Dad abuses  Mom.

Mistress stripped off that black form fitting dress you see above. She was down to her black bra and tights.  I pulled a chair into the center of the room. The shoe horn – wooden and 15 inches or so long –was looped over the chair already.

How convenient.

“Pull down the tights and get over here Mistress. “

She was very obedient, settling over my lap.

My fingers couldn’t help but test and tease her.

“Hmmm…. Already wet, Mistress. You are his little slut, aren’t you?”

“I suppose I am Slave.”

She took her medicine well. And when I got to ten, alternating cheeks, nice red stripes on her firm ass, she said, “that’s enough, Slave.”

“You were keeping count, Mistress?”

“I suppose I was….”

I gave her two more just for her own good. Then my fingers explored again. As I expected:

Soaking.

It’s so nice to have her squirming on my lap that way.

I got her close to her particular edge, but decided there was another, better way to skin this pussy.

“Come over to the bed, Mistress. Now it’s time for your reward.”

She lay there, on her back, her tights still drooped down to her thighs, pinning them together a bit. Not quite bondage, but a taste of it.

I reached for the Hitachi, on the floor under the bed, and thumbed it on.

Mistress seemed pleased, then increasingly excited as I pressed it home, exactly where she likes it.

But what was interesting was how she fought it,  dragged out her inevitible surrender to its cunning and ultimately irresistible pulsation.

“It’s Ok to imagine it was M spanking you Mistress, and now forcing you to come for him.”

“I know, Slave….”

But it seemed Mistress was trying to struggle against it, trying to deny the tool’s power, and M’s power over her too.

But, alas, poor Mistress, we know how that comes out in the end, don’t we?

When Mistress finally surrendered to the inevitable, it was with one of those moaning, sobbing orgasms that left her with tears streaking the mascara left over from her day at the office.

It’s the kind of display that makes a Slave proud.  Nothing like the satisfaction of a job well done.

And afterwards, once I helped her slide out of those tights, she took my cock in hand and made sure I surrendered to her too.

HNT / Deploying Our Crystal Cock

Yesterday morning’s blog made me realize that crystal cock at our bedside table must have been feeling underutilized.

So when I brought the laptop up to bed to my snoozing Mistress, and woke her from her sleep, I slid the pink, translucent ridged wonder out of it’s little cozy coffin shaped box.

Mistress took care of her business, and slid back into bed with me ready to read the blog. And as she scrolled through it, I slid under the sheets, to begin grazing on her sumptuous folds.

To fuel my fetish, Mistress had decided to sleep in those black tights with the strategic opening. My cock had pressed against it for much of the night. And, well, I was kind of horny for her, as you might expect.

But first things first….

Mistress squirmed and stretched a bit as I began to lavish her with attention from my tongue, poking, probing, sliding to and fro to open her up to me. Then, with my right hand, I began to probe with the business end of the crystal cock through the opening in her tights, as it wormed it’s way to it’s destination.

“Ohhh…. Cold Slave…”

Yeah, the thing is a little cold until body heat warms it. Not like a real 98.6 degree cock. But much harder.

There is a trade-off I suppose.

“It will warm up Mistress.”

I gave her clit a firm suck, tugging it between my lips, then slid the crystal cock in a bit deeper still. That seemed to distract Mistress from the temperature differential.

Soon she had put the laptop aside, and was focused on the combined assault of my mouth augmented by those little ribs inside her bumping along her inner contours.

The orgasm that resulted seemed to clear the cobwebs from her brain. It took a good bit of digital dexterity to cling to that crystal cock as she bounced against my mouth.

I consider that a sign of a job well done.

And she must have felt the same, because my dedication and skill were richly rewarded.

“Give me my cock, Slave.”

“Of course, Mistress.”

Molly and Mick's Toy Store Stories

SFP, I promise: I will dump out the toy box (or in our case, boxes, bags and drawer) soon for their photo op. Mick and Molly have a lot of them, hidden here and there. It will make an interesting tableau.

This shot is one from the annals: taken a few months ago when our Western Correspondent wanted to know which toy to have Molly insert in her virginal little bottom to provide a little preview of what it will be like when he elects to take her that way.

Mistress is quite anxious for the opportunity. The very thought of it gets her all juicy and wanton, doesn’t it, dearest?

 These days most of our shopping is done on line. The Stockroom had a great selection and nice, prompt service. Plus you avoid all those moments of potential embarrassment as you pick out your supplies. Though I suppose there might have been a cock twitching moment of humiliation if Mistress had told me to drop by the local “Hustler” store in downtown River City, and pick up that harness and dildo she uses  when she elects to fuck me in the ass.

As I recall, it was the Mistress perusing the Stockroom catalog about two years ago that had her selecting our little white probe, seen in the photo, called the Aneros, to break me into the delights of penetration.

“It might be good for you. Remind you who is in charge, and what you are: my Slave.”

This was about a year before the contract, when Mistress was just beginning to flex her Domme muscles.

And when I first lubed it up and slid it in, it was during a video chat session, with me in River City and Mistress down in Florida during the last few months of our commuter days.

Mistress was very impressed at how obedient I was, and how frustratingly large my cock became once I was fully penetrated.

Yow.

Good idea, Mistress. I was resistant at first. But Mistress does know best.

Our first visit to a Toy Store was before we discovered that Mistress should be in charge. It was probably back in the late 1980’s, when Molly and I were still “undercover”. (i.e., married but not to each other).

Somehow we arranged to be in San Francisco together. How we got away with that stuff remains a mystery to me. But there we were, alone together in one of the greatest cities on the planet, with little to do but eat well and fuck.

Mistress and I played our occasional tie up games in those days, and when we saw a funky little smut shop in that Italian Neighborhood in the north end of the City, we stopped by, and acquired some leather “handcuffs” that can buckle and lock. I recall using them in our hotel that night, Molly’s wrists bound over her head, as I took my time to extract a few orgasms from her.

We still have them: comfortable, secure, useful on either wrists or ankles. They sometimes get deployed on switch day to bind Mistress’s ankles together as I squeeze the Hitachi between clenched thighs.  Very effective. I’m surprised she’s not tried to use them on me. (hint, hint).

Of course, not all toy stores are the type of squalid, sleazy operations that seem to be the focus of Aisha and SFP’s experiences.

Two falls ago we were together in NYC. Mistress brought me along for a business meeting and we had a day for exploring Soho. We did some on-line research to find the best sex shoppes in the City that Never Sleeps.

Our first stop was at Kiki de Montpernasse. Kiki de Montparnasse

Very high end.

Muy Expensivo.

Big beautiful display windows, elegant lingerie, and all sorts of fancy “toys”. Click through some of the pages on their web site and you will see what I mean. Love the categories: “Dilletos”, “Butt-ins”. Cute.

Their retailing concept is that sex toys are now mainstream. Beautiful items to desire and deploy for discerning couples.

Or singles.

The staff are well dressed, younger women, not large guys with dirty shirts looking like they need a cigar in their mouths.

Why settle for a plastic or steel cock ring or butt plug when sterling silver is available?

We settled on our Crystal Cock, also seen in the photo.

It is Beautiful to look at and lovely to hold.

Fills Mistress quite nicely. Ad the ridges seem to have a cunning effect. It comes in a cute little coffin shaped box that slides open. It sits right on the table next to our bed for easy access. Fortunately, my cue grandson hasn’t tried to pop it open and play.

Yet. 

I can imagine the questions that might generate.

I’m thinking that Crystal cock is coming out of it’s box in about 20 minutes.

Some Reading for the Sub-Sisters....

 Thought some of my readers might enjoy this link.....

A Short History of Corsetry