HNT / Command Performance

Mistress asked “what are you doing, Slave”, as I took this picture of her perky nipple peeking out from beneath her lacy nighttime confection.

It was Sunday morning. She was staked out on our bed, spread eagle style, waiting for the feather.

“Just stocking up on some photos for your many fans, Mistress.”

I hope you readers in Abu Dabi, Germany, France, England, New Zealand like these little glimpses of My Mistress’s physical charms.


I knew I was due some form of punishment for several unfortunate and impertinent comments I made Monday evening. Mistress is really pretty easy on me, but what’s the point in having a Slave who gives you “back sass”, as my grandmother used to put it.

There have to be consequences.

I had a hint of what they might be by Tuesday evening.

“Slave… tomorrow wake me around 6:45…. You can lick me when I read the blog. But no sex for you. We’ll be going on a morning bike ride instead.

“Of course, Mistress.”

So Mistress was worshiped. Then we were off in the pre-dawn glow. It was great for my body and my head to get the heart pumping so early, and watch the sun come up and light those glorious fall leaves.

So the denial of my normal morning sexual release was hardly frustrating.

Yesterday, Mistress dressed the part for fall. Black mid-thigh dress, black tights, And these new over the knee black boots that was an addition to her fall/winter wardrobe.

Hot.

I must share some pictures of those soon.

I knew she would be getting some jaw dropping looks as she strode about downtown.

And, on the commute to work, as I let my fingers slide across the soft fabric containing her recently exercised thighs, I already was regretting not getting that morning release.

We attended a political event that evening after work, and we enjoyed each other's company as we chatted up the crowd. I appreciated the looks that Mistress and her shiny high boots were getting, There may have been a few potential applicants for Slave2 on hand.

By the time we got home, I was hoping that my sentence would be commuted. And it seemed that way as we spread ourselves across the bed and talked for a while with Aisha.

It’s always a surprise to hear the voice of someone you’ve come to know through the written word. Her voice is a bit deeper than you might think, with a knowing and open laugh. And she comes with a soft, regional twang that came, for no good reason, as a bit of a surprise. She could be cast in the kink remake of “Gone With the Wind”, topping Rhett from below. Tara will come with a dungeon this time.

We can’t wait to meet her and Sir D as they guide us through what is sure to me an “interesting” experience.

It’s nice to have even more fodder for our kinky fantasies, and inspiration for our own experiments.

As we talked, Mistress was pointed north on the bed, and me south, with our speaker phone in the middle. It gave me the chance to suck on her toes, her tights already peeled off, and, from time to time, slide my fingers up her legs to tease at those soft, damp folds.

Mistress’s sweet, musky aroma was part of the conversation, at least to me. And it was telling me “soon, Slave, soon.”

As a consequence, I probably terminated our chat a little prematurely.

“Well, Aisha, this was fun. But we have some things to take care of here…..Let’s talk again soon.”

I’m not sure she understood what I had in mind, but I do apologize if it seemed abrupt.

But as I tucked the phone a way. Mistress gave me the bad news.

“Slave, I think I’m a little tired tonight. You will have to wait until morning.”

Damn.

A stealth abstinence day.

“That’s only fair Mistress…. After how I handled things the other night.”

“Yes…. It is Slave.”

But there is a “happy ending”. Or was.

Around 3:35 am, I was woken by a little whisper from Mistress.

A woke to realize that my arm was draped between her legs. I could feel those subtle undulations already, her hips discretely moving against me.

“You are now allowed to fuck me slave….”

Well I was a little groggy, true. But I shook myself out of that middle of the night lethargy,

I was not going to make that mistake again.

“Thank you, Mistress….”