Stress Relief....

When our logistics coordinator D learned that Didi had generously offered to drop by the Yurt on Saturday evening to give us another opportunity to enjoy her massage skills, she did a little research for us, apparently in hopes of exceeding "customer" expectations  for participants in the SBPP.  She clearly is into the whole notion of continuous improvement, and adding value to those of us under her protective wing.

So she considered turning back the clock and assembling an entire staff to work out the kinks for us and other similarly situated pervs on the lam. 

But when she ran the idea by us, we were a little underwhelmed.

"They seem a little clinical, don't they Slave?"

"Yes, Mistress, and way overdressed....I think  Didi will do just fine... plus we have some catching up to do."

D got the message and made arrangements for Didi to (literally) drop in for the evening.

The text from D gave us an ETA, and we were standing out front of the Yurt just as sun began to set. Fortunately, I had time after mucking the Yak hut to clean up and get dinner going.

"Look, Slave.... there she is."

She pointed to the billowing parachute, high above us, and we watched as Didi made a graceful landing, only a few steps from our tent flap.

Very impressive, don't you think? Although, I have to imagine that it was a little cold up there when she popped out of the plane.

We welcomed her into our new home, and She and Mistress settled down for a chat while Slave watched his team fall into way too deep a hole in the 1st Quarter against their arch-rival from the Coast. I could tell it was going to be a long night, and was grateful that there would be other diversions to take my mind off that damn Trojan fight song that's haunted me over the years.

At half time, Slave served dinner - a roasted chicken, with some local root vegetables, accompanied by some of that excellent wine that Francois had codged for us at the black market. (It was a shame he could not join us - he may have been out hunting some game for dinners later this week?)

Over dessert -- an assortment of Yak milk ice cream that we had bartered for from a neighbor - Slave watched his team commit two turnovers in quick succession that snuffed out all hope, while Mistress and Didi showed each other samples of cock photos sent to them by their "fans", Mistress using her laptop, and Didi her cell phone.

I was a little concerned that Slave's "work-a-day" cock might pale in comparison, but at least it was "reporting for duty", unlike some others I need not mention.

All this chatter, and the inevitability of my team's inglorious demise made me turn off the TV. There would be no return to glory this season.

"I think it's time for those massages, Mistress...."

They both seemed pleased to have my full attention now.

Didi unpacked the scented oils she had brought, and we proceeded to our large bed. 

"Simone.... it's time for you to get naked."

(Did I mention that Didi is a rather take charge woman ... I won't get into the details of the rules she was laying out via text message to a potential suitor back home.)

Mistress was more than happy to obey, shedding her jeans and cowboy boots and stretching out on the bed... I simply followed orders..."get us music.. light those candles, Slave...."

I do know my place. By the time I settled into a comfy seat at the side of the bed, wine glass in my hand, Simone already beginning to moan softly to Didi's strong and skilled fingers. At some point I suggested that Didi, might want to consider shedding some of her outer garments, if only to get more comfortable as she worked her magic on Mistress. She seemed happy to take up my offer, and was soon down to her own black undies and bra.

But there was a hitch. After completing work on Mistress back, and having her flip over,  Didi pulled Mistress's arm into the air, then released it. But it remained outstretched, pointing to the yurt ceiling.

Didi was not pleased.

"Look at this Slave... she really does have trouble relaxing.  Can't you help me out?"

Well it was almost Switch Day by now, and I had an idea.  I retrieved our red cuffs, locked them on Mistress's wrists, and secured them to the top of the bed.

"This is so unfair...."

"Clearly you need to give up control in order to enjoy this,  Mistress...."

Of course, with Mistress bound, it only made sense for me to spread her legs and worship a bit. And as I nibbled ("You look like a little kitty cat down there, Slave", Didi observed), our guest was toying with Mistress's lovely nipples, commenting on their charm and sensitivity.

Ass you can imagine, soon Mistress was "giving it up", though she was a little quiet about it, probably somewhat embarrassed to have an audience.

After Mistress had more than her fair share of attention, She laid back (still bound I might add). and Slave was told to get naked too and lay next to her.

Who was I to question Didi's authority in such matters?  Soon I was enjoying a deep and very thorough massage as Didi used those body builder's arms to squeeze all the accumulated stress from our exile,  the work week and the demise of my team out of me.

By the end of the evening, the three  of us were stretched out on the bed, Slave in the middle, arms around these two compelling, take charge women.

"You look happy, Slave...."

"Who wouldn't be, Mistress."

Around 1:30 am we could hear the drone of the Helicopter that D had arranged to spirit D back to  River City. Let's hope she made it back safely, and will return again soon.