Mistress woke Sunday morning after a long night’s sleep and called for her Slave. I was down stairs on my 2nd cup of coffee. Having completed my homework, I was working my way through the New York Times and the smutty blogs of our friends out there. But I always jump when called to duty, or face the consequences.
We read the papers in bed a bit, looking forward to a long bike ride with the temperature breaking into the 40’s.
But when it seemed Mistress was “in the mood” (as displayed by her reaching for my cock to confirm that I was unclothed and available to her), I rose and collected out little bag of restraint devices. It was our “Switch” day, and I was not going to pass up my chance to turn the tables on my Mistress, if only for an hour or so.
I pulled out some leather cuffs and buckled them onto her wrists, holding them together in front. While locks can be arranged, I know that Mistress will not try to make her escape without my permission. Then I affixed her wrists over her head with a leather strap tied to an eyebolt installed for this purpose.
Mistress relaxed into her bondage, and we kissed as I fondled her a bit, my thigh resting lazily over her hips. Soon I could sense her hips moving in their little dance of arousal.
But Mistress was not getting off so easily. I rolled her over onto her stomach, and used my hands to stroke her firm bottom. This attention only made her squirm more, and when I slipped my hands between her legs I discovered just how wet and aroused she was.
That’s when I began to spank her, slowly at first, then with increasing intensity. AS I did, I asked her to consider whether the new prospective Dom in her life would take the liberty of spanking her, as part of her training. She agreed that seems likely, and I could sense her imagination getting the better of her.
Mistress still refers to me as her Slave in these switch session. And that is probably for the best. She and I both need to know that she has the ultimate authority, including the right to pull the plug should I ever get out of hand, even when she is bound and at my mercy on a Sunday morning. But the thought of her losing that control to someone who does not recognize her authority, who, instead, demands her submission, seems to have a powerful effect on Mistress.
As I continued to spank her, I reached for out WMO (weapon of massive orgasm, the Hitachi Magic Wand). With one hand I slid it from behind, between her legs. With the other I continued the intermittent spanking. I was testing how Mistress would respond to the simultaneous application of pleasure and pain.
It was an inspiring experiment. The natural thing to do to cope with a spanking may be to try to relax those butt muscles as much as possible. But the pressure of the churning vibrator on Mistress’s cunt seemed to make her tense those muscles. Her thighs gripped it with a pressure designed to hold it firmly against her dampa and demanding parts. As I spanked her, she churned against the bed, determined to force the device to deliver her from both her frustration and the ongoing spanking. (This made me wonder how things would go with her ankles tied to corners of the bed, something to think of next Sunday?)
I knew she was getting close, so asked Mistress to consider whether her prospective Dom would allow her to come without permission.
“Probably not, Slave”, she admitted, rather distracted as she continued her frantic gyrations.
“Well why don’t we practice that, Mistress. I want you to ask me permission before you come”.
.It did not take Mistress much longer to drive herself to that point where she sought my permission.
“May I come , Slave.”
(A silly question, really . Though I had to imagine what would happen if someone said “not yet” to her.)
“Of course, Mistress.”
With the “all clear”, Mistress came with a sudden and explosive force, humping against the vibrator and the bed, crying out into her pillow. And with that I was merciful, and stopped the spanking, letting her relax.
Mistress was not freed until I had my own very satisfying way with her. But even in switch mode, I can’t help asking for my own permission to come, without any prompting.
I guess that’s why I am the Slave.
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