When a Treat Comes Before a Trick.

Before I tell the tale of our switch day adventures here at our undisclosed location, I want to point you to two particularly amusing blogs that popped up this morning.

First,  Mystress has gotten into the spirit of boot week, with some lovely selections that will surely make our Senior Correspondent Donna very happy to see.

And 'Nilla well, she was a very bad girl again today. She has a story entitled “Mistress” that seems inspired by Mick’s steel cock cage and Molly’s peek-a-boo tights. If only my office door locked the way the one in her story does…. And they must also have much better sound proofing in that office tower than in mine!

Now, where were we….

Mistress was a bit on edge about what our Switch Day might entail. After all, with no kids around, and a whole little hideaway to exploit, the sky (or at least the vigas) was / were the limits.

And the night before, as she and the WC had a rambling nighty night conversation, the subject of Mistress’s tender nipples, came up.

“We do have some clothes pins here M, but I’m never going to tell him where they are!”

I slid out of bed, opened a desk drawer and pulled out some fierce nipple clamps acquired several months back (I think SFP suggested them) and did some “brandishing”, which seemed to send shivers through my brave little Molly.

So, flash forward now to Sunday morning.

We had read the blogs. We had agreed not to rush up the mountain at our normal time, giving us plenty of time for our switch-uals.

Mistress was at her wheedling best though. She began kissing and fondling. And, well, Slave is weak…. I guess that’s why I am the slave.

“Suck it Mistress.”

“My, aren’t you getting all bossy.”

“It is switch day, Mistress…. Would you prefer the ropes and nipple clamps?”

Not surprisingly, she was soon doing some mighty fine sucking. And ball cupping, and stroking with those lovely fingers until my cock was a very demanding rod that now had its own agenda for the morning.

I pulled her up, positioned her over me.

She was more than amply ready to slide down onto me, and moaned with a certain satisfaction as I filled her.

Mistress knows how to ride cock.

And I enjoy the opportunity to observe her face, eyes scrunched tight as she focuses on her own pleasure… seemingly far away.

She came once, then again, and I think a third time as she rode me, her fingers reaching back to fondle my balls, getting me oh so close.

But I knew that her body had reached a limit when she collapsed onto me, exhausted from all that riding. I rolled her over and took her then, knowing that I might shortchange our readers expecting something more extravagant from our Switch Day.

But sometimes a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do.

When we were both sated, there was still time for some R & R before our ski day began. We lay in bed for a while reading. I even stepped outside in my long navy robe to see what pre-spring attention our little garden might need.

And when I realized that the sun was full out, making the 40 degree temperature quite tolerable, well….the little light bulb went off in Slave’s dim brain.

Who said Switch Day was over just because Slave and Mistress had some AM cums under their belt?

But I will concede I was a little devious as the story line unfolded.

I stuck my head back into our bedroom (there is a door that opens onto our patio from the bedroom), where Mistress was lolling in bed, thinking smugly that she had dodged a bullet, and gotten 3 or 4 orgasms in the bargain.

“Hey…. Why don’t you put on a pair of boots and come out here. It’s nice and I’m sure our readers will expect some hot photo in the am.”

She gave me that funny, quizical look, but elected to indulge me.

“What should I wear, Slave?”

“Just the boots, Mistress….”

“Ohh?”

But she did not question my request, and soon was stepping out into the sun, all pink and nakers but for the black boots she selected.

That’s when I showed her the white rope I had pulled out.

“They’ll be expecting something kinky, Mistress.”

She did not resist as I pulled her hands in front of her, bound her wrists, leaving a lengthy “tail” to lead her by over to our picnic table.

“What are you doing, Slave….”

“Just a nice pose, Mistress….”

She ended up pulled over the table, pressed against a blue bath towel ( didn’t want those nipples to acquire a splinter from our rustic table…. That would have been a punishable offense). I tied the rope off so she was going nowhere.

And then Mistress began to squirm and bitch a bit.

“But Slave…. What if someone sees me?”

You see our little adobe house is set back from a road…. Maybe about 30 yards or so. And there is a low adobe wall that contains our patio, blocking most of the view. But at this time of day, the road is fairly busy as skiers head up the mountain.

“Oh, why would anyone look this way, Mistress…. And the cars aren’t really high enough for a passenger to get an eyeful”.

We were both looking toward the road. And just at that very moment, the bus that hauls skiers from town to the mountain passed by. A bus with windows elevated much higher than a car’s passenger compartment.

Oops.

“Let’s hope they were checking our the mountains, Mistress, and not us.”

I could imagine the potential entry in our little weekly paper’s semi-comic “police blotter”: “report by bus passenger of naked woman tied to picnic table along Ski Valley Rd. Uncertain of address.”

This sighting made Mistress squirm a bit, testing her bonds, so to speak. But she was still going nowhere.

“Can we get on with this Slave….”

I retrieved my camera from inside, letting her languish a bit.

“It’s getting cold out here Slave….”, is how I was greeted. That’s when I realized that this could be a whole lot more fun than a photo op.

I snapped my shots, and of course, Mistress had the right of approval. This one passed her discerning muster.


But then I excused myself again.

“Where are you going….. just untie me, please.”

Huffy. Very huffy.

“In a moment, Mistress.”

I crept back inside the house, and retrieved the power tool, where it still was lying next to the bed, following her date with the WC on Saturday afternoon.

Luckily the extension cord was ample once it was plugged into an outdoor outlet. And Mistress could not turn around well enough to see her surprise.

I pressed it against her lovely fragrant parts.

“What is that Slave?”

She was clearly confused. But I answered her question when I thumbed the switch on.

“Ohhhh….. my……”

I was standing behind her, and she clearly was enjoying the powerful vibrations, spreading her legs as best she could to give it more space to press home. And her ass had a wanton squirm that was priceless.

But it would be wrong to spoil her, wouldn’t it?

So, as my left hand pressed the Hitachi home, my right hand began a nice firm spanking of her so helplessly exposed ass. It took on a nice rosy glow almost immediately.

“That hurts slave…. The cold…. Makes it really sting.”

But that did not distract her from having one nice moaning climax as she writhed against the picnic table, and another one quickly after that, despite my continued spanking.

That surely is an efficient tool.

By now it seemed I had wrung Mistress dry of her naughty attitude, her haughty smugness having been reduced to whimpering little slut, who was getting cold.

So I released her. She stood quickly, glancing at the cars passing on the highway and hustling back into the house.

Later, we clicked into our skis up on the mountain, and Mistress was looking particularly fetching in her tight black pants and Turquoise helmet and jacket.

‘Do you think some little girl will say, ‘mommy is that the lady we saw naked and tied up on the ride up the mountain.”

She seemed to blush just a tad.

“I don’t think they’d recognize me in this get-up, Slave.”

No, probably not.