Mistress gets some coaching.

When Slave came upstairs on Tuesday morning, after finishing my daily “homework assignment”, Mistress was clearly in the mood for action. She read my blog entry with some amusement, as I nuzzled her already quite liquid cunt.

“Did you start without me this morning, Mistress? You’re already very wet.”

“No Slave….but I may require the Hitachi this morning. I think I am getting addicted.”

No surprise. Between it’s merciless efficiency and the words whispered into her ear by her Master as he instructs her how and where to apply it, addiction seems like a very likely outcome. Poor dear.

I pulled the device from under the bed and switched it on.

“Show me where he tells you to apply it Mistress….”

She did just that, using her hand to position it just so. I took over from there.

“And what does he say when you have it in the proper position, Mistress?”

“He says, ‘Slave’, …. he calls me his Slave, ‘Slave, remember to ask for permission before you come.’”

“How does that feel, Mistress?”

“Humiliating, Slave.”

And how do you ask for permission?”

“I say, may I come now, M?”

I hope he makes her say “please”.

And at about that time Mistress came with full force, moaning with that sexy, throaty voice of hers, and writhing against the little churning bulb at the end of her favorite toy.

Later that day, on the ride home, Mistress and I spoke about my trip out of town the next morning, to our nation’s capitol. (I am on the plane even now, as I type this.)

Fortunately, she’s joining me there Thursday evening for a little two day get-away. But we will be apart for 36 hours or so. Not used to that these days. It will be lonely in my bed tonight.

We talked about what toys to bring. And one thing she vetoed was bringing the Hitachi for play when she arrived. She was unnerved at the thought of the NTSA guy pulling it from her bag and asking pointed questions.

I offered to bring it with me, but that was vetoed. I guess she had other plans for it while I was gone. Which got my mind going in an naughty direction.

“Maybe I should hide the Hitachi before I leave town, Mistress.”

I was being provocative.

“That would be very bad, Slave. Maybe I should call M now and report this bad behavior.”

And she did, dialing the phone and finding our Western Correspondent readily available.

“You won’t believe this, M. Mick is leaving town in the morning and is threatening to hide the Hitachi before he leaves.”

I could hear his laugh crackling over the line. And he was talking to her too.

“He says he’s going to train me to be a better Mistress. That I need to be much more obedient and deferential to me.”

“He’s probably right Mistress. That was clearly inappropriate.”

“He suggests I have you wear the steel cage when you leave in the morning. I’ll bet you would enjoy explaining that to some curious female NTSA guard when the metal detector goes off.

I imagined myself, being pulled aside, and wanded. And the loud noise that wand would make as it crossed below my belt buckle. Yikes. She wouldn’t would she?

“He also suggests I give you a good spanking when we get home.”



Oops. Bad development. Then I heard her say to him:

“I have this long shoe horn we got from a hotel in Chicago. I think we’ve posted a picture of it …. Yes, that’s the one. I’ll use it on him when we get home. Good advice. Talk to you later…..”

Mistress rang off.

My hand was on her thigh, sliding up under her hiked up skirt. I do like the way Mistress squirms ever so deliciously when she talks to our Western Correspondent.

“I’m going to take his advice you know….and before our bike ride. It want your bottom nice and sore when you sit on that bike.”

Why was all this threatening talk making my cock thicken?

One sick Irishman here.

At home Mistress stripped away her work costume of black dress and undies, and lay across the bed. She was ready for worship. And I was happy to kneel. I thought I did a particularly earnest job of massaging her naked lips and clit with my tongue. She seemed pleased once she was satisfied. But I had not earned a reprieve.

“OK, why don’t you pull down those shorts and lay across the bed, Slave.”

And I did. She wasted no time applying the wooden shoe horn to me with some relish.

“This is for threatening to hide our toy, Slave. How and when I use it is at my discretion, not yours.”

“Yes, my bad, Mistress”, I said obsequiously, while knowing that someone else might have something to say about when she did or did not use it.

“Yes, it was. Very very bad”

With the tenth or so stroke, I was being unusually vocal in my response, and my bottom was squirming on the bed. It’s actually harder to take this sort of punishment when not restrained. But I was obedient and took my medicine.

“Here are three more, just to make sure you don’t get in trouble while in DC.”

“You don’t have to worry about that, Mistress.”

And of course, she doesn’t.

When she was done, Mistress snapped the photo above, her tool draped across my reddened bottom. She instructed me to post it with today’s blog, and she texted the photo off to M to show that she had followed his suggestion with obvious effect.

“Now let’s go for that bike ride , Slave.”

Chastened, I slid my bike shorts up over my tender ass.

This would be interesting.