If You Want It Done Right ...

Last night was a busy workday for both Molly and Mick, followed by a political reception before we finally headed home, determined to take a bike ride before dark before more rain moved into town.

All along we had been simmering, denied our morning “exercise” by an early alarm. Bummer.

I did get to lunch with Mistress near her office, but, sadly, no time for worship. Over lunch, She did share some rather provocative text messages from our western correspondent, and discussed how she was anticipating a date this evening with Sir M. When Mistress is distracted by these other guys, that just makes her Slave want her all the more: something that Mistress no doubts enjoys. Hence the apparent taunting.

When we finally got home, and Mistress began to undress from her elegant black work dress, I was drawn to that spot of her back revealed when the zipper came down. My kisses seemed to make Mistress shiver a bit, and she pressed herself back against me. And my lips got just a taste of what I had been denied through the day. Yum.

But Mistress was not to be distracted from her ride before we lost the sun. She is properly focused on keeping us both in shape.

By the time we settled into bed later that evening, Mistress had decided what she wanted.

“I need the Hitachi, tonite, Slave”

Interesting. She had come magnificently as I applied it to her Sunday morning. Usually it takes a few days for her to want it again. But Mistress had been regaled by M with stories about how B likes to use that compelling tool on herself while forcing M to watch patiently. I wondered what was up.

I stripped for her, then retrieved the device from its hiding place before coming joining Mistress in bed. She had opened her laptop.

“I need to respond to M, then you can have your way with me, Slave.”

She typed away, updating me on her progress, which I could read over her shoulder. Here is a part of what she wrote:

“We finally did get to come home, ride our bikes, and now he is waiting for me to finish this with the Hitachi in hand.


Yes, I still owe you more of the story -- I can't decide what Mick will be permitted to do (have not figured out that part yet). I think that you left off with my being spanked and B playing with my nipples and it seemed that you were rubbing your cock against me. … we would guess what would happen next. Mick thinks (as if he has a say) that I should be required to suck your cock and lick her cunt...i did tell him that he would have to hold my hair out of the way (there is lots of it). Maybe, I would just grab B and take her to a local bar up the street, and we would do tequila shots with the locals -- and say screw you two with your hard cocks.”

As you can see, despite her best efforts, Mistress has a hard time with this whole submission thing. It will take a rather compelling and determined Master ever to make her a true subbie.

When Mistress was done she set aside the computer and gave me the go ahead. The mechanical humm of the Magic Wand filled the room, and Mistress hunkered down into the bed, spreading those delicious legs. I could detect the alluring scent of her arousal. Email as foreplay? In this case, apparently so.

I was planning the slow but steady climb to the mountain top for Mistress, sliding the soft white head of the tool against, Mistress’s inner thigh. But she was impatient, apparently wanting the quick and dirty assault to the peak.

“You know where to put it Slave, I want it now….”

Impatient. It had been a long day on simmer, apparently.

I slid the tool against Mistress’s naughtier parts, but apparently not firmly enough.

“Give it to me Slave….I will take over from here.”

And she did, grabbing the device with both hands, and pressing it against herself much more firmly than her lowly Slave had done. I guess I am too delicate with her.

“Make your cock hard Slave. I am going to want it once I have taken care of myself.”

“That’s not going to be a problem, Mistress.”

I had been hard since she started typing to M. I had been on simmer too for a while.

Her voice had a certain urgency now, breathing labored, her hips rising, wriggling against the churning head she pressed firmly against herself.

With one hand I stroked my cock, assuring it met Mistress’s standards. I placed the other over Mistress’s hands guiding the vibrator. I figured there was something to be learned here by some first hand monitoring of her urgent self-ministrations. I am a Slave who believes in the “continuous improvement” quality control mantra.

Within moments, Mistress had found her mountain top, with some dramatic thrusts of hips against machine, as she moaned and rolled side to side. While in this Slave’s humble opinion it did not rival the day before, when she was bound to the bed and frustrated to the point of begging, it was a sight to behold.

“Excellent work, Mistress.”

“Sometimes, if you want it done right, you have to do it yourself, Slave.”

“Apparently.”

“Why don’t you fuck me now, Slave”

And I was happy to accommodate that request.