Dispatch From our Senior Correspondent: La Domaine Part IV

I need to begin with a correction, if you don’t mind. I have learned since my most recent post that neither slave nor donna should be capitalized when used together. I will endeavor to remember that rule, but no promises. Now, back to La Domaine.

So there I was, bent over a sawhorse. In front of me was slave tom, wrapped in Shibari ropes with his beautiful penis slowly dripping onto my forehead, kind of like Chinese water torture only more viscous.

Directly behind me was Mistress Dame, encouraging me to “pump out more sex” as she very successfully stimulated my nether regions. And Mistress Collette was flogging me from the side and ordering me to really, really beg for permission to lick slave tom’s dick.

I begged, but my begging required correction. I begged again, but still there was some issue with the way I was asking for permission. Finally Mistress turned it over to slave tom who had been bouncing just the tiniest bit on his toes, with his very erect penis bobbing up and down in front of me, catching just the bottom edge of my lips and tip of my nose as I begged. I also thought I heard a little hum coming from slave tom, but had no time to consider that as Mistress clearly was NOT pleased with me. She instructed me to try harder and to REALLY, REALLY BEG slave tom for permission to lick that big, beautiful cock!

I looked up at slave tom and REALLY begged him to allow me to lick his penis and balls. It seemed to me that I used the same words and tone that I had with Mistress Collette, but for some reason they worked this time. Perhaps slave tom was in a more receptive mood than Mistress. In any case, he gave permission and I got right to it. I licked up and down and all around his long cock and turned my head to push forward a tad to do a good job of nuzzling and licking his balls, then back to the licking and kissing.

Tom seemed quite appreciative and I thought I was doing quite well, when Mistress Collette stopped me. As I stopped and pulled back to look up at her, I heard that strange little humming noise again, but in a more strangled tone now, and clearly coming from slave tom.

Mistress Collette informed me that it was now time to see whether I had learned anything and could beg well enough to convince slave tom to allow me to suck his cock. Well I guess I did a much better job of begging because slave tom seemed quite pleased, almost relieved, that I begged so nicely. I turned my head to be in a good position to do a good job, gave him an eyebrow waggle and began. I blew across the tip and then slowly sucked him into my mouth, holding my lips just around his head and working the slit a bit. His moaning gave me hope that I was doing a good job, but Mistress soon began to give me some pointers.

Now,  I really can’t do more than one thing at a time, so I pulled back and let the tip fall from my lips so I could turn my head to pay better attention to what Mistress was saying. Again with the humming, but louder and at a higher pitch, and when I looked up, I could swear slave tom was gritting his teeth. In any case, when Mistress stopped smiling she gave me some great suggestions and told me to get back to work, which I promptly did.  Her suggestions seemed to work quite well and I moved my tongue and lips, coordinating the sucking pressure into the rhythm and pattern she had mentioned, or perhaps ordered.

All of a sudden, something came to my mind and I just couldn't let it go. I stopped and pulled back. Mistress stopped flogging to ask whether I was okay. I motioned with my finger that I would like for her to come down to my level. I whispered to her that I was feeling funny about this, that I am at least 15-20 years older than slave tom and maybe he was only doing this because he was ordered to and maybe he doesn’t really want this from me. She looked at me, blinked a couple of times and asked whether I had noticed that his cock was hard. I said that I had, but thought maybe that was due to the rope. She gave me a stern look and said that if he’s hard, he’s okay with it…and added I should get back to it.

I quickly moved back into position and got back to work/pleasure right away. What a nice, smooth cock slave tom had and it was so long that even if I swallowed when it hit the back of my throat, I couldn't get it all in. I reach up with one hand to massage his balls and used the other to give a back and forth motion to the base of his cock that matched timing with my sucking. All was going so well. I could feel an orgasm building for me, and from the intensity of the humming, I assumed it was the same for slave tom.

Then, out of the blue, SHIT! SHIT! SHIT! I had a Charlie Horse in my thigh. I must say that slave tom has good reflexes. He jerked that penis from my mouth in record time! I suspect he may have been concerned I might bite down.

Now let me tell you, that Charlie Horse hurt like the dickens! I needed to sit up, and since I was face down over the sawhorse, getting up was a procedure requiring help from both Mistresses and slave tom. It would have been comical under other circumstances. They helped me get into a chair and in looking up to start to speak I saw that slave tom was still in the ready to launch position, if you know what I mean. I apologized to Mistress and to slave tom, but Mistress Collette said not to worry, that slave tom was very familiar with delayed gratification and that there wasn’t any problem at all.  She grabbed a little leather strip from the bench and slapped his cock with that a few times, then grabbed the red rubber ball on a stick for a bit of additional thwacking on his penis as she talked to me about my begging techniques and how I might continue to work on begging and oral skills at home.

Within a few minutes, Mistress Dame placed a glass of water in my hands and told me to drink it slowly and just rest. She also said she was so excited to learn that I was going to be the model for a Shibari instruction class after lunch. Okay, I’m always game.

Oh, and in case you are interested to the follow up of my oral training, Bill reports that I learned my lessons well. He is most appreciative for the instruction offered by Mistress Collette and said he was grateful that slave tom was the subject I practiced on rather than him. I wonder what he meant by that?

Hugs,

Donna

Switch on the Road

Slave recovered from his failure to follow the Boy Scout pledge (“Be Prepared”) on Saturday afternoon, by stopping  at a local Ace Hardware Store to acquire about 25 feet of rope.

(Mistress was waiting patiently outside with our bicycles, as I lingered in the rope/chain department. What is it about that section of the store that always makes for such hard shopping decisions).

That meant that by Sunday morning I was ready to fully exercise my switch privileges.  Fortunately, the goat milking hostess had left a small scissors in the room (which seemed to double as a study when the occasional boarders were not booked), so it was easy for me to cut my newly acquired hank into about 5 equal pieces 5 feet or so in length.

After some coffee drinking and web perusing, Mistress found herself on her tummy, spread eagled, and ready to be used and abused.  I turned up the classical music station on the radio, to help cover up any errant crys of anguish or pleasure that might emit from Mistress’s soft and tender lips (though maybe I should have considered a gag?)

AS anticipated, Mistress looked quite lovely affixed to this antique, country style bed.

And when I applied my belt and palm to her bottom, producing a nice rosy glow, she squirmed delightfully against the bed, pulling at her restraints, moaning into the flannel sheets, the aroma of her arousal filling our little farmhouse room.

Yum.

“You sure are squirming, Mistress…..I think this spanking actually turns you on…..”

“What do you think, Slave?”

Of course, I wasn’t completely prepared. I had forgotten Mistress’s power tool, which has become a critical part of our switch day rituals.  But necessity is the mother of invention, and I knew that Mistress was due a nice cum after all that spanking and strapping.

I slid one hand under her hips, my fingers probing between her clean shaven folds to find the little place that makes her crazy.  And my other hand lingered over her ass, a finger sliding ever so slyly into her tight  little hole little.  This dual assault quickly had an impact on her, and her hips were bobbing up and down, forcing my finger even deeper into her as my other hand worked her from below. 

Poor Mistress worked herself into a nice little frenzy, coming once, then again no much later until she collapsed against the bed, all tuckered out.

I took this little calm in her storm as an opportunity to untie her ankles, and flip her over, re-fixing her wrists to the top of the bed at the center, to one of those convenient little center posts. (We really do need a bed like this).

And, after she caught her breath, I was straddling her, allowing her to enjoy the flavor and texture of her cock, until it was more than ready for the next stage of our little session.

Hopefully our hostess was out on the porch on the other side of this old country home, whipping up a batch of goat cheese, and not listening against the door to hear what her guests were up to.

And no, Sin, we did not leave the rope behind, although if I ever ran a quaint little B & B, it would certainly be an accessory I would make available, along with the exotic tea bags and classic book collection.

Molly and Mick On Campus

Our day went pretty much as planned here at All-American U. After some leisurely wake-up sex, and a chance to peruse some of the blogs we had fallen behind on in our soft, ancient bed, we climbed aboard our bikes and headed off in a  cool mist for our “game day” activities with sullen teen #1.

The Campus and it’s little town are a throw back to an Archie and Veronica world, where, on Parents’ weekend, you see cute little preppy co-eds walking down the town’s main street in the same preppy cloths as their moms, but without the plastic surgery.

Molly and Mick are a little too non-conformist to exactly fit into this scene, and our daughter thought it was a little strange that we elected to stay at this farm house and ride our bikes to campus for the season’s opening football game, rather than park with all the other tail-gaters on some big damn field.

After the five mile ride into town, past damp pastures and plump cows,  we grazed for our breakfast at a local farmers’ market “up-town”. Molly discovered  some gluten-free cookies, and Mick scarfed down a slice of home made apple strudel and a caramel apple (getting my daily dose of fruit in!).

Then Mistress ran into one of those preppy moms we know from River City who seemed scandalized that Molly would be sporting a bike helmet in public.

The horror.

(Though I might add this woman pales in comparison to my lovely Mistress, with or without helmet.)

The sun finally came out, and we enjoyed out time with our daughter, though I suspect she might have had more fun chilling with her friends, either in the student section or in some campus hang-out.

On the way back to the farm after a long and kind of dull game, I asked Mistress if we could pull our bikes into the local hardware store. Slave had packed poorly for our trip, and our bed presents so many opportunities I needed to pick up a hank of rope for Switch Day. Are you surprised that Mistress had no objections?

(Sin had commented on the bed yesterday, so I thought I would take a photo with my computer cam. The old farmhouse bed came with a nice accessory this weekend:)

Both of us were a little tired by the time we made it back to the farm, so we elected a pre-dinner nap. But since daughter had “plans” for the evening, the dinner we had with her at a packed Thai restaurant was relatively fast. And, fortunately for Mistress, the place even served Sake in these strange little bottles. 

She took a photo and emailed it to me.

“I guess asses could be tomorrow’s theme, Slave”

Once home, it was not long before we were naked and in bed, With slave on all fours, dipping his head to serve Mistress who was on her back, legs conveniently spread. For whatever reason, Mistress was in a particularly horny disposition last night. I could be my more aggressive teasing and taunting of her clean shaven folds with my lips and tongue added fuel to the fire. But once she had cum from my oral attention, and used her own mouth to get her slave squirming and begging, she insisted on riding her cock for a while.

And ride she did, whipping herself into a frenzy that built from one  dramatic cum to another until she collapsed on me, sobbing. Her tears running down both of our faces.

I rolled her over, gently, sliding inside from above to finish the evening’s proceedings.

“I’m sorry I got so emotional, Slave….”, she said, her face still damp.

“Sorry?  I love that…. It means Slave must be doing something right.”

At that point, Slave was a little exhausted himself, but there was still whoopee to make, so it seemed we continued to fuck for quite some time, speeding it up, slowing it down, until somehow, someway, Slave was begging for permission to come too.

“Of course, you can Slave…..”

Afterwards, we were both completely spent, folding into one another’s arms, letting the goats bleet us to sleep.

Now I can hear our Inn keeper up on the other side of the wall. She says she milks her goats at 6:30 am. Mistress is planning to take some of her goat cheese home. If Francois plays his cards right, he might even get some too.

Out Here in the Fields

Molly and Mick are staying in this old, Civil War era farm house, finally found after getting a little lost down long country roads. In our room there is a photo of the farm, taken from the air maybe 60 years ago (based on the car in the driveway), and minus all of the overgrowth that obscured the driveway as we pulled in last evening.

It reminds me of a similar photo of my grandfather's farm in upstate NY, that still hands somewhere on one of our many walls. And this old farm house has the same sqeaky ceilings and "out in the country" middle of the night sounds that I remember from that old farm from my earliest days.

The bed is the type that seems higher than the norms these days, and very soft. Mistress and I got the best night's sleep we've had since our return from that very long and relaxing vacation. And we've got a limited schedule today.... biking into town to meet our daughter, attend her college football game, then dinner later after a chance to clean up back here at the farm.

In case you were curious, Mistress was well sated last night. It's not as if we had been abstinent the last few days (true, Slave had been shut out on Thursday due to our schedule and my state of exhaustion once the dinner guests were shown the door on Thursday night). But I made sure Mistress had her usual dollops of worship. And there was some typically satisfying wake-up sex Friday morning before Slave was off to teach a seminar.

But last night..... well maybe it was the country air, or Mistress flashing back to her wild days on this campus back in the Reagan era, but.... wow.... she was a hot little fire cracker here on the goat farm.

First, she instructed me to "got insert your device Slave."  Fortunately I had packed that and our little tube of lubricant. That always assures Mistress the cock suited to her needs.

After following her orders, I devoted my tongue and lips to their highest and best use, and squeezed from Mistress a nice multi-waved cum that had her bucking and moaning on this soft high, country bed.

Once suitably worshiped, Mistress turned her attention to my already rigid cock. She seems to be a little more focused on this form of "torture" of late -- maybe getting in practice for Francois's "uncut" model?  In any event she soon had me doing the squirm and beg thing until she finally relented, me on the edge, at last allowed to fuck her.

And of course, once granted permission, I was in no hurray to bring the evening's prime entertainment to an end. It's not like there was a TV here to distract us. So I made sure Mistress got the fucking she certainly deserved, using all of the tricks in my ancient book to assure her a few more delightful cums before I provided my explosive happy ending.

Ahhhh..... that was definitely what the doctor ordered after a long week back at work here in the heartland.