Some Helpful Guidance from Our Western Correspondent

If there was day when Mistress deserves some orgasm denial  for her Switch Day, it is surely this one.

In the morning, Mistress was lavished with her usual therapy – her Slave’s tongue, and then, after she read my homework and ‘Nilla’s clever blog about that fetching “fictional” Domme, Slave’s firm “work-a-day”  cock.

At least a few orgasms were to be had there, before our morning bike ride

Then in the afternoon, after various mundane tasks were completed, Mistress ordered me upstairs.

“It’s that time Slave…. Get out my supplies.”

She meant her strap on and lubricant.

It had been a few weeks, and Slave was probably due.

But beforehand, Mistress said I probably also needed some cropping.

“But it’s hard for me to come up with a good excuse Slave….you’ve been pretty good lately.”

Of course I take pride in that, but….

Mistress had retrieved a very whippy crop from our closet. She was thwacking it a bit against her palm. Measuring it’s weight.

“Ok…. How about your rant this morning, when [Surly Teen #2] took your car and didn’t tell you….”

“But I needed those leaf bags in the trunk, Mistress.”

“I don’t like rants, Slave….

Thwack.  Ouch.  That stung.

“Will you do it again?”

“No… Mistress.”

Thwack.

“Liar….”

The blows rained down. And of course, Mistress was right. I probably would do it again.

By the time she was done, my bottom was very sore.  And she snapped a shot to transmit to M, and to sahre with all of you. You can see it on yesterday’s preview.

All of this got done with Mistress’s strap on cock bobbing in front of her.

She snapped a shot of that as well.

“The Domme’s eye view”.  (You can see that photo too in last night’s “preview” entry.)

When she texted that photo to M, she received   a prompt, “fucking HOT”, in return. 

Instant gratification.

And as Mistress positioned and then plunged into me, she came with a certain ferocious enthusiasm. Maybe twice. And there were more orgasms as I fucked her with the little probe stuffed inside me, assuring that my cock would remain nice and hard.

(Did I tell you I had the hard steel ring from my cock cage on…. That always assures a longer, harder fucking, as Mistress has come to know).

But she wasn’t done adding to her O count for the day.

When we woke from our post sex nap, Mistress checked her I-phone and there was a message from our Western Correspondent.

“M wants to know if I can talk with him at 6, Slave.”

“Of course, Mistress.”  I had plans to watch my alma mater on TV. Mistress was going to dinner later with the Surly Teen #2. This would work out fine.

About 90 minutes later, Mistress came downstairs, with that glazed, contented look on her face.

“How many, Mistress?”

“Not sure…. I lost count, Slave.”

I will have to look for a spike in our electric bill. Sounds like the Hitachi got a work out.

But now it’s Switch Day, and out Western Correspondent has some ideas on how to handle Mistress this morning. We got this dispatch from his yesterday and I plan to follow directions:

“Your lazy and underproductive WC has decided to do his job and provide some blog fodder.  For the entertainment of the sub sisters and a certain incorrigible  young lady, I provide the following tutorial on how to properly tan a young lady's bare bottom:

Have her strip bare naked.

Have her stand before you naked while you inspect her at your leisure.

Make sure she keep her hands at her sides and does not try and cover up

Embarrassment is good at this time.

Sit in a comfortable chair (you might be there for a while) with no arms to impede your swing.

Take her over your left knee.

Rap your right leg over both her legs.

Say hand please

She will then present her right hand to you.

Grab her right hand with your left hand

Now she is not going anywhere and you can give her a good talking to about the reason she finds her self in such a compromising position.

Then begin to spank her hard with your hand or implement of choice (a shoe horn would work well).

Stop often to lecture her about her bad and insolent behavior.

Don't pay any attention to her pleas for forgiveness. 

Or her howls, kicking and screaming.

Be strong, and do you duty.  

Remember she will say or do any thing to get out of her spanking at this time.

Pay no attention at all to her and spank her till you decide she has been properly punished.

Then have her go stand in the corner with her bright red bare bottom on display for you to admire as you have a nice soothing cocktail of your choice.

You deserve it after all that hard work.

I mention this only because I read your last blog entry with great interest, I actually said 10 extra not 10 total.   The 10 extra were for asking impertinent questions, as I know your are aware she is prone to do.   So use this information as you will on Sunday.

As always I remain, your lazy and underproductive,

Western Correspondent.”

Thank you, M…. I will see if I can live up to these high standards.

Preview

These pictures sort of write their own story, don't they?

Details in the morning.

Makes me feel like one of those dorky local news stations.... as in:
  
"Reports of plague outbreak?   details at 11."

Just Another Friday

Our readers will be happy to know that Mistress seems to be her feisty self again after that scary headache sequence a week ago….she’s hungry for my tongue and cock, and what Slave would not relish rising to meet her hunger.

Yesterday started very early for us. Surly Teen # 1 was going on her Senior class trip to DC. I was assigned the task of getting her up and out by 4:30 am to catch the bus with her classmates.

Mission accomplished, I was fully awake, so coffee was brewed and I got the blog done and posted for her and all of you loyal followers. I noticed that Aisha was up early too!

Of course, all that smutty writing and reading got me a bit …. Agitated. So I climbed the stairs around 6 am, and Mistress seemed happy to see me. She read the blog, I showered her slippery folds with attention from lips and tongue…. I suspect you know where that led us. And afterwards, there was still time for us to fall asleep, clinging tight and close, before we finally climbed out of bed and took a pre-work bike ride around 7 am or so.

Mistress was back for more after lunch though…. Stopping by my office for some mid-day attention.

As she sat in her “throne” and wriggled out of those black tights…. Yes, ‘Nilla they do drive me crazy…. A theme she picks up in her story this morning 'Nilla: Domme Wife….she mentioned talking to our Western Correspondent earlier in the day.

“Was he glad I applied his sentence for you last night, Mistress?”

“Yes Slave…. He likes it when he can trigger some ‘epic’ sex for us…. But he says he would have given me a much crueler spanking….”

“No doubt, Mistress….”

By now I was on my knees, sliding my tongue through Mistress’s ripe and juicy parts. AS she came, Mistress wrapped her left leg around my neck, pulling he all the closer.

It’s nice to feel wanted.

On the drive home, we listened to a radio story about the “outrage” of the latest TSA airport screening procedure. Wasn’t it just a year ago that folks were whining about the security breech involving the “underwear bomber”? Now the outrage is that the security dudes might be looking at nakey scans of us, or groping our underwear?

Memories are short.

But it gave us something to talk about.

“I wonder if M’s special occasion cock would be the sort of ‘anomaly’ that triggers a hand frisk of his ‘junk’ Mistress?”

She just raised an eyebrow.

“Bad, Slave.”

“How do you think they would react if they saw my steel cage under there, Mistress?”

She laughed.

“They’d go crazy, Slave.”

I’m waiting for the Tea Party types to propose a “free market” solution to this whole intrusive TSA search thing. Let the Airlines decide whether they want to have security or not. Just let their passengers know so they can decide whether to assume that messy risk.

So airlines could decide to sell tickets for flights with or without security searches, sort of like their “refundable” vs. “non-refundable” options. My guess is that some of us would assume the risk and buy the cheaper tickets. I’ll bet there would be some empty center seats on those flights! And ample room for your AK-47 in the overhead compartment.

But I digress with my rant….

By now it was Friday night. One teen was off on her excursion. The other was heading to a friend’s house. Mistress and Slave had nothing on the schedule.

You can imagine what that meant.

The luxury of pre-dinner sex and then a nap…. After all, we had gotten up early!

Soon we were naked. Sliding against one another, me spooning against Mistress warm, firm bottom, a hand wiggling it’s way between her legs, finding her already wet and ready for me.

You know where this went, don’t you?

Later we had a picnic in front of out TV, and I got to introduce Mistress to an old, favorite movie, Nashville. Lot’s of great music and funny 70’s double-knit leisure suits.

She lay there next to me on the couch. No undies. Legs spread casually. The musky fragrance of her recently fucked cunt was a low level distraction for me. And it wasn’t long before my fingers couldn’t resist the temptation to probe and fondle.

So Mistress got her last orgasm of the evening that way, while listening to Henry Gibson and Ronee Blakely croon a country chestnut.

I’m not sure she liked the movie. But she did seem to like what my digital attention.

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.