Before I get into our after action report from a very eventful switch day, I wanted to call attention to and respond to a long comment made by Suffolk.sinner yesterday afternoon.
He seems troubled by our cuckold dynamics here, and can’t understand why if its not ok for this “gander” to play the field, why Mistress should be entitled to her own “indiscretions”.
Suffice it to say that Slave got in trouble when he concealed his extra-marital activities several years back. The deceit opened up a deep wound in our marriage. And as we struggled to work our way back to a trusting relationship, we stumbled into the world of D/s.
I discovered that the idea of turning my sexual freedom to Mistress was not only a way to make her feel more secure, but also a BIG and surprising turn on for me.
The contract developed from there, as a fun way to formalize things between us. It’s a little over the top, but I don’t fear that Mistress will take advantage of her rights TOO often.
As for the cuckold thing? I addressed that in an earlier posting that may be worth reviewing if you are curious about our theories on that particular kink. Under Contract to My Wi#1854AD1.
On our bike ride yesterday, Mistress asked me whether I missed the “freedom” she had under our contract.
“Actually, I haven’t had any problems with it Mistress. No one’s come knocking on my door, making herself available. I don’t think I’m sending off those “available” signals any more…. But I’ll let you know….”
“Would you really, Slave?”
“Sure…. Who needs all that sneaking around stuff.”
Well, enough of all this philosophizing, let’s get back to the sexy stuff….
So here we are, kids flown the coop, and a full set of switch day options available.
It was almost too hard to choose.
After Mistress read the blog, as I worked her into a steamy arousal with my tongue, I made it clear that she would have to work for her orgasms.
“Stopping now, Slave?… you were just getting to the good part….”
I reached into our bedside table, retrieving her red cuffs, locking them on her then linking her hands behind her back. They match her red nail polish so nicely, don’t you think?
I also attached some black leather cuffs to her ankles.
“What’s nice about these cuffs is that you can wear them around the house through the day, Mistress.”
“Maybe even on our bike ride. I doubt anyone would notice.”
“Oh… Slave…you wouldn’t…. would you?”
I left the question unanswered, helped Mistress to her feet, and guided her down the hall to the now vacant room of a sullen teen.
You may be amused to learn that her room, and bed, are bigger than her parents. She has a queen. We have a double.
But the nicest part about this now unspoken for bed is that it is of the 4 poster type, with very convenient lashing points.
“This would drive her crazy, Slave.”
“True, she usually bars us from her ‘space’ …. But now she’s far away across the pond…. Tough nuggies.”
Soon Mistress found her self spread eagled, face down on the bed.
I let her languish a bit as I went back to our room for a few more tools. A riding crop. My camera, and the Hitachi too.
Mistress “enjoyed” quite a few strokes from the crop, interrupted by my stroking and probing fingers.
“Your ass is looking quite red, Mistress…. I hope Francois does not mind.”
“Hmmm…. He’s not had any objections to switch day, at least not yet.”
It was about then that I plugged in the Hitachi, sliding it ever so closely to the promised land between Mistress’s spread thighs.
“Ummmm…. Nice … Slave….. but could you move it a little…. Closer….under….”
She was wriggling as best she could, but I was not going to make it easier for her. Instead, I reached for the crop again, trying to match the blows with the rise and fall of her ass as she tried to match her “sweet spot” with the business end of her favorite power tool.
“This is so mean, Slave…. it’s driving be crazy….”
I tried to “help”, wedging it a little more closely to her clean shaven folds, then stepped back, taking a seat on a chair across the room to admire Mistress’s gyrations at my leisure.
She looked over at me, noticing the rigid cock in my hand, as her hips bounced up and down, trying to get the pulsations that eluded her.
“Slave…. what are you doing?”
“Ohh, just enjoying the show, Mistress…. You look so hot over there, all tied up and frustrated, that I could probably just come like this…..”
“You wouldn’t dare…. Would you?”
I don’t think she was sure. But it didn’t slow her frustrated gyrations, as her hips pounded up and down on the bed, her arms and legs straining against their bindings.
At moments like these, it would be nice if I knew how to operate the video function on that camera. But here is a still photo from my vantage point. (Sorry for the stuffed animal in the background).
“It would seem like a waste, come to think of it, Mistress.”
But Slave is merciful, of only because the tables can so easily be turned here at the UCTMW World HQ.
Soon I was back at her side, taking the Hitachi in hand, and guiding it manually where I knew it would have it’s highest and best use.
And soon thereafter Mistress was quaking and shaking through a primo cum.
When the aftershocks finally subsided, I flipped off the switch, but also noted the error of her ways.
‘You forgot to ask permission, Mistress…. There will be consequences.”
“Just fuck me, Slave….”
So I did, sliding in from behind, pumping into her slowly at first, then with more gusto, bringing her to another cum as she moaned her release into the pillows under her head.
But we were not done just yet.
I released her for a moment, only to flip her over, and re-restrain her, face up this time.
And then I reapplied the Hitachi treatment.
At least she remembered to ask permission the second time around.