It was a busy Saturday here at the UCTMW World HQ.
Carrying forth with yesterday’s Sit-Com analogy, this could be one of those back to back episode extravaganzas …. And yet, well, I have some Switch Day planning to do this morning. Need to save some creative energy for that, don’t I?
So, roll the cutsey pooh credits, and let her rip……
Mistress was a horny little slut yesterday morning, if I may be so bold.
As she read the blog, and some of the comments that had already filtered in, I was buried between her muscular thighs under the sheet, lavishing her sodden folds with plenty of attention. And once the lap-top was set aside, she had a little amuse- bouche of an orgasm, complements of my tongue, sort of getting her appetite revved up for what would be served up next.
She pulled me up and next to her, grappling for my cock. It was already beginning to rise to the occasion, but with Mistress subtle (well, really not so subtle) grip, I was soon begging for permission to fuck her….and it took her a while to agree. She was amused by my pitiful pleas, it seemed.
But when she finally did agree to my entreaties, much to my desperate gratification, she threw a change up.
“Do me from behind, Slave….”
Hmmm… something that had been left off the menu for a few weeks. I was wondering what made Mistress want to go in this direction – some smutty little fantasy about our Western Correspondent I suspected – but I was happy to play my supporting role in it.
With some help from Mistress’s fingers I found my way in from behind, and made sure I pumped her with the type of fervid rhythm that seems to press the buttons for her in this position. And since it’s not a position that Slave readily comes in, well, all the better for Mistress, right? She knew I would not be annoying her with a request to come any time soon.
It was hard to tell if Mistress came that way, as I pressed her body hard against the mattress, sliding in and out with a good pace from behind….but after a while, it was another change-up from her.
“I want to be on top now, Slave….”
“Of course, Mistress….”
Hmmm….. more high energy from Mistress.
I slid off and over, rolling onto my back…. Mistress commented on my rather prominent cock, pointing up at her at a right angle from my tummy, like an old Atlas rocket about to chase down Sputnik and put it in its place (or was it Spud-Nut? … DM Sarah P., she would know….)
Quickly Mistress mounted me, and it was not long before she was squeezing those sultry green eyes shut, moaning and quaking with one of those seismic cums that seem to visit her in this position…. She was reaching back now, fondling my balls, and I was so close, but not …just …. there.
And I could tell Mistress was getting tired riding my cock, so I suggested we roll over…
She seemed grateful, sliding off me, then onto her back….and I was on top of her lickity split. Not long thereafter, it was Slave begging for permission, and Mistress generously saying “Yes, my Slave…”
That was my cue to go for it. It seemed I came in a long series of spasms, before collapsing back onto her soft, warm body.
At this point Slave could have gone back to sleep, cuddled next to her…. Brain and body dead like a piece of fully depreciated livestock.
But Mistress was not quite done.
“Hand me the Hitachi, Slave…..”
Wow. Some guys might feel that their services had come up short under such circumstances. But, call me cocky, I knew I had left it all on the field….
On this particular morning, Mistress’s needs were just a little more than something a mere cock could handle, and I had no shame in reaching under the bed and thumbing her power tool on for her.
I sidled next to her as the churning device slid under the sheets. I happily took on the role of supporting actor, gnawing on a nipple, then probing her mouth with my tongue, as she took matters into her own hands.
And soon she was bucking up against the machine’s soft churning bulb, her head thrown back, moaning with the final release of a well earned climax to our morning’s adventures.
At that point we both drifted off, spent….
So I was down in the bowels of the UCTMW World HQ, painting a door to our garage. (Yes, your humble Executive Editor / General Counsel / Risk Management Analyst also acts as weekend maintenance technician here in River City).
Mistress wandered downstairs, calling for me. I looked up. She had a phone pressed to her ear.
“I have the WC on the phone, Slave…. And he reminds me that you are due a punishment.”
Apparently, our Western Correspondent was buttonholing our Boss, playing some office politics, whilst I am tending to mundane company business. He had been taking the CEO aside and throwing me under the bus. No doubt he’s angling for a fancier title and my corner office.
But I stifled my complaints….biding my time. There will be payback … maybe I will send the IRS a bogus 1099 from “UCTMW Enterprises” in M’s name. Let the WC explain that one to his accountant.
“No doubt he’s right, Mistress.”
“Why don’t you finish up soon down here Slave, and meet me in our bedroom.”
She went back upstairs, still chatting with flirtatious animation to M….
I soon had one coat of dark green paint on the door, and put my supplies away. After washing up, I headed upstairs, where Mistress, done with her talk, soon joined me.
“Get out my supplies, Slave.”
I knew exactly what she meant. The strap-on and its faux cock. The lube.
“And make sure you get me the riding crop too….”
I laid her supplies on the bed. She snapped a photo of the crop, and texted it off to M, letting him in on what was to come. No doubt he would be amused that the seed he had planted would soon be sprouting.
I did not have to ask whether to strip off my pants and underwear, as Mistress slid into her harness. Soon she was ready for action, riding crop in hand.
”On your stomach Slave…. And be still….”
Of course, I complied, but asked, “and why am I being punished, Mistress….”
“You know why….”
The first blow landed with a stinging surprise.
“I am not sure, Mistress….”
Two more had me squirming, trying to suppress my verbal complaints by chomping on a pillow.
“You were a real ass-hole twice this week, Slave….”
Yes. True. Two drives to work where Mistress had to tell me to “stifle”.
Are we sounding like Archie and Edith here? But with the roles reversed? Could be.
After the fourth blow, I was more than ready to admit my sins. But the blows kept raining down, and they sure hurt.
Damn they hurt.
Unrestrained, I could not avoid rolling over and away at one point, to avoid the crop that Mistress was wielding so effectively. But her stern look made me realize that would only extend the punishment. So I sucked it up and submitted….
It’s at moments like these that I wish I had more padding back there.
But, at last, Mistress relented.
Sitting next to me and running her warm, now merciful hands along my ass. The fire was already receding, but she oohed and ahhed a bit.
“Oh my…. What nice red welts you have, Slave….”
She reached for her I-phone, snapped a photo, fiddled with her keyboard. I’m not sure if one went to M, but one went to my email account. I was instructed to show it to you all today….
Then she handed me the lube after applying a generous amount to her “cock”.
“Are you ready for the next part, Slave.”
I was. This would be a picnic, compared to that crop.
She found her little target with no difficulty, then began pumping home.
I have a feeling that her warm up act -the process of making me writhe in pain for her, all my exclamations of agony - actually may have enhanced her own … arousal.
Because it was really only a matter of about 90 seconds… at least so it seemed …. Before she was coming hard and long with against my ass with those tell-tale spasms of ecstasy.
“Wow, Mistress…. I think you liked that….”
“Yes…. I did Slave…. Very satisfying….”
She was sliding out of me now, dropping her harness onto the floor for me to clean up and pack away afterwards….
“Why don’t you go insert your little device, and get back here and fuck me….”
I did not have to think twice about toeing that particular line.