Mistress's Collection

Friday evening, Mistress was lying next to me in bed, laptop on her tummy, scrolling through her digital photo collection. She was pulling out some scenic photos of our Mountain Hideaway and environs to assemble a slideshow or her office computer. And I was watching…

But it was hard not to notice as she sorted through all those photos a certain body part.

Mistress giggled.

“He does send me a lot of cock pictures, Slave.”

Apparently he does.

Various angles.

Various states.

But mostly rigid, veined, angry, needy.

“I think you like it Mistress …. I think it speaks to you …. About what you do to him …. What you make him want to do.”

“I suppose it does, Slave.”

And of course, Mistress could delete them when they pop up on a text message at the most surprising times.

At the office.  At a lunch meeting. In a client presentation. Or the grocery store.

But she doesn’t slide them into the trash.  She collects them. They end up on her laptop, with photos of the more mundane and prosaic parts of our lives.

Horses. Fall foliage. Teens. Mountains. Cocks.

“When you glance at these photos, does it make you wet, Mistress? Does it fuel your fantasy about being on your knees, worshiping M’s special occasion cock?”

“Mmmmm….. I guess it does, Slave.”

The laptop was finding it’s way to the desk next to our bed. Mistress was sliding out of her gauzy, transparent panties.

Her hand found it’s way to my cock.

I don’t think she was surprised to find it hard and ready for her.

“I’m going to ride it, Slave….”

I knew what to do. Lay back. Let Mistress impale her sopping cunt on my workaday cock.

And if in her mind she was riding the angry one in those photos, if it was our Western Correspondent pinching her nipples, or pulling her ass down onto him with his strong hands, well, who was I to complain.

Mistress worked herself into a state, then came crashing down onto me, moaning, face flushed, her fingers reaching behind, stroking my balls.

Apparently that collection can inspire all sorts of things.

Mistress was in a feisty mode Saturday afternoon.

After a bike ride and some leaf raking, We settled into an afternoon of leisure.  Mistress took a nap, and I joined her after suffering through a dismal college football game.

When she woke it was time for her to remind me who is in charge.

“Get out the strap-on slave…. It’s time.”

She slid into her gear. Made sure I had the lube on hand, but first there was some business to take care of.

“I can’t recall now why you deserve a spanking, but we might as well take care of that too.”

I remembered. But chose not to remind her. It might only get worse.

My bottom was appropriately tenderized with her long wooden shoe horn. Stingy blows rained down on me, making me squirm and whine into the pillow.

But I think we both felt better when it was done. And I know the spanking made my bottom particularly receptive to her faux cock as she pumped into me.

Mistress comes in an altogether different way when she fucks me  from behind this way. Her body jerks hard against me as her clit frictions against my ass and the leather of her harness. It seems to take her by surprise as she gasps her pleasure then collapses onto me before pulling out.

She gives me a little pat on the butt. As if I had been a good boy for her. And I had. Then she slides out of her harness. She leaves it on the floor for me to clean and put away for it’s next deployment.

“Go insert your device now Slave…. Then get back here and fuck me.”

“Of course, Mistress.”

Last evening we went to some friends’ home for dinner. It was a nice evening, sitting out back on their deck, under a full moon and stars. Mistress was allowed to “indulge”, while I went easier as the designated driver.

AS always, Mistress looked delicious: those high boots, black tights, swishy dress.

On the drive home, I had the pleasure of sliding my hands up under the dress. Mistress was a tad tipsy, but seemed to enjoy the friction of my fingers sliding along those smooth tights to the apex of her thighs, her legs spread, undulating a bit in response.

“Remember, tomorrow is switch day, Mistress …. And we’re following the regime that M proposed for you last week: tickling, teasing, but no cumming.”

She looked at me, a bit surprised.

“Ohhh…. You wouldn’t would you, Slave?”

“After all those orgasms last Sunday, I think you could handle it.  But maybe we should ask M how long you should be expected to go without an O.”

“Good idea, Slave…. Let’s see what he has to say.”

So after we got home, and Mistress got a little pre-switch orgasm from my devoted tongue, I whipped off an email to our Western Correspondent, reading it to Mistress first:

M- I've told Mistress that she's going to endure what you suggested for last sunday....tickling , teasing but not cumming ,   But how long do you think I should make her wait? Sunday night?  Monday?  Tuesday?  

She thinks if I ask you now it might hasten the time she will have to suffer without  a cum.

(I did just lick her to a midnight O, so she shouldn't have too much to complain about....)

Mick

This morning, when I woke up and slid out of bed, I found M’s response:

--

Mick:

since she intends to keep you chaste for three days..

I would recommend Monday morning...

 but with plenty of teasing in between... 

i think an hourly teasing, 

as much as possible, 

would be in order... 

feather on the clit...  

each hour sounds good to me...

maybe a home made chastity device in between.... 

3 pairs of bike shorts?  

with a sock tucked in between her legs...

 just to suck up the juice and keep her from stimulating herself ?"

  and strict observation... 

she can be a devious little slut, might slip away and cheat!

  AND I would pull down those shorts every hour or so and give her a good sound bare bottom spanking... 

will jiggle her clit,

  you will need to keep a very close watch on her at night...  

might try to go for the quick rub off in the bathroom... 

be very observant!!!

and/or bind her hands!!!

she is very smart will try to out fox U

good luck

the lazy ... but always entertained  WC 

M, thanks for your directive. I will do my best to fulfill the letter and spirit of your sentence for our beloved Mistress/Slave.

 I suspect this plan of action may drive Mistress to distraction today. MAbe she thought M would give her a reprieve. Not.

And I suspect contemplating this plan of action for Switch Day could distract a few of our readers too.

Mistress's Collection

Friday evening, Mistress was lying next to me in bed, laptop on her tummy, scrolling through her digital photo collection. She was pulling out some scenic photos of our Mountain Hideaway and environs to assemble a slideshow or her office computer. And I was watching…

But it was hard not to notice as she sorted through all those photos a certain body part.

Mistress giggled.

“He does send me a lot of cock pictures, Slave.”

Apparently he does.

Various angles.

Various states.

But mostly rigid, veined, angry, needy.

“I think you like it Mistress …. I think it speaks to you …. About what you do to him …. What you make him want to do.”

“I suppose it does, Slave.”

And of course, Mistress could delete them when they pop up on a text message at the most surprising times.

At the office.  At a lunch meeting. In a client presentation. Or the grocery store.

But she doesn’t slide them into the trash.  She collects them. They end up on her laptop, with photos of the more mundane and prosaic parts of our lives.

Horses. Fall foliage. Teens. Mountains. Cocks.

“When you glance at these photos, does it make you wet, Mistress? Does it fuel your fantasy about being on your knees, worshiping M’s special occasion cock?”

“Mmmmm….. I guess it does, Slave.”

The laptop was finding it’s way to the desk next to our bed. Mistress was sliding out of her gauzy, transparent panties.

Her hand found it’s way to my cock.

I don’t think she was surprised to find it hard and ready for her.

“I’m going to ride it, Slave….”

I knew what to do. Lay back. Let Mistress impale her sopping cunt on my workaday cock.

And if in her mind she was riding the angry one in those photos, if it was our Western Correspondent pinching her nipples, or pulling her ass down onto him with his strong hands, well, who was I to complain.

Mistress worked herself into a state, then came crashing down onto me, moaning, face flushed, her fingers reaching behind, stroking my balls.

Apparently that collection can inspire all sorts of things.

Mistress was in a feisty mode Saturday afternoon.

After a bike ride and some leaf raking, We settled into an afternoon of leisure.  Mistress took a nap, and I joined her after suffering through a dismal college football game.

When she woke it was time for her to remind me who is in charge.

“Get out the strap-on slave…. It’s time.”

She slid into her gear. Made sure I had the lube on hand, but first there was some business to take care of.

“I can’t recall now why you deserve a spanking, but we might as well take care of that too.”

I remembered. But chose not to remind her. It might only get worse.

My bottom was appropriately tenderized with her long wooden shoe horn. Stingy blows rained down on me, making me squirm and whine into the pillow.

But I think we both felt better when it was done. And I know the spanking made my bottom particularly receptive to her faux cock as she pumped into me.

Mistress comes in an altogether different way when she fucks me  from behind this way. Her body jerks hard against me as her clit frictions against my ass and the leather of her harness. It seems to take her by surprise as she gasps her pleasure then collapses onto me before pulling out.

She gives me a little pat on the butt. As if I had been a good boy for her. And I had. Then she slides out of her harness. She leaves it on the floor for me to clean and put away for it’s next deployment.

“Go insert your device now Slave…. Then get back here and fuck me.”

“Of course, Mistress.”

Last evening we went to some friends’ home for dinner. It was a nice evening, sitting out back on their deck, under a full moon and stars. Mistress was allowed to “indulge”, while I went easier as the designated driver.

AS always, Mistress looked delicious: those high boots, black tights, swishy dress.

On the drive home, I had the pleasure of sliding my hands up under the dress. Mistress was a tad tipsy, but seemed to enjoy the friction of my fingers sliding along those smooth tights to the apex of her thighs, her legs spread, undulating a bit in response.

“Remember, tomorrow is switch day, Mistress …. And we’re following the regime that M proposed for you last week: tickling, teasing, but no cumming.”

She looked at me, a bit surprised.

“Ohhh…. You wouldn’t would you, Slave?”

“After all those orgasms last Sunday, I think you could handle it.  But maybe we should ask M how long you should be expected to go without an O.”

“Good idea, Slave…. Let’s see what he has to say.”

So after we got home, and Mistress got a little pre-switch orgasm from my devoted tongue, I whipped off an email to our Western Correspondent, reading it to Mistress first:

M- I've told Mistress that she's going to endure what you suggested for last sunday....tickling , teasing but not cumming ,   But how long do you think I should make her wait? Sunday night?  Monday?  Tuesday?  

She thinks if I ask you now it might hasten the time she will have to suffer without  a cum.

(I did just lick her to a midnight O, so she shouldn't have too much to complain about....)

Mick

This morning, when I woke up and slid out of bed, I found M’s response:

--

Mick:

since she intends to keep you chaste for three days..

I would recommend Monday morning...

 but with plenty of teasing in between... 

i think an hourly teasing, 

as much as possible, 

would be in order... 

feather on the clit...  

each hour sounds good to me...

maybe a home made chastity device in between.... 

3 pairs of bike shorts?  

with a sock tucked in between her legs...

 just to suck up the juice and keep her from stimulating herself ?"

  and strict observation... 

she can be a devious little slut, might slip away and cheat!

  AND I would pull down those shorts every hour or so and give her a good sound bare bottom spanking... 

will jiggle her clit,

  you will need to keep a very close watch on her at night...  

might try to go for the quick rub off in the bathroom... 

be very observant!!!

and/or bind her hands!!!

she is very smart will try to out fox U

good luck

the lazy ... but always entertained  WC 

M, thanks for your directive. I will do my best to fulfill the letter and spirit of your sentence for our beloved Mistress/Slave.

 I suspect this plan of action may drive Mistress to distraction today. MAbe she thought M would give her a reprieve. Not.

And I suspect contemplating this plan of action for Switch Day could distract a few of our readers too.

Mistress's Collection

Friday evening, Mistress was lying next to me in bed, laptop on her tummy, scrolling through her digital photo collection. She was pulling out some scenic photos of our Mountain Hideaway and environs to assemble a slideshow or her office computer. And I was watching…

But it was hard not to notice as she sorted through all those photos a certain body part.

Mistress giggled.

“He does send me a lot of cock pictures, Slave.”

Apparently he does.

Various angles.

Various states.

But mostly rigid, veined, angry, needy.

“I think you like it Mistress …. I think it speaks to you …. About what you do to him …. What you make him want to do.”

“I suppose it does, Slave.”

And of course, Mistress could delete them when they pop up on a text message at the most surprising times.

At the office.  At a lunch meeting. In a client presentation. Or the grocery store.

But she doesn’t slide them into the trash.  She collects them. They end up on her laptop, with photos of the more mundane and prosaic parts of our lives.

Horses. Fall foliage. Teens. Mountains. Cocks.

“When you glance at these photos, does it make you wet, Mistress? Does it fuel your fantasy about being on your knees, worshiping M’s special occasion cock?”

“Mmmmm….. I guess it does, Slave.”

The laptop was finding it’s way to the desk next to our bed. Mistress was sliding out of her gauzy, transparent panties.

Her hand found it’s way to my cock.

I don’t think she was surprised to find it hard and ready for her.

“I’m going to ride it, Slave….”

I knew what to do. Lay back. Let Mistress impale her sopping cunt on my workaday cock.

And if in her mind she was riding the angry one in those photos, if it was our Western Correspondent pinching her nipples, or pulling her ass down onto him with his strong hands, well, who was I to complain.

Mistress worked herself into a state, then came crashing down onto me, moaning, face flushed, her fingers reaching behind, stroking my balls.

Apparently that collection can inspire all sorts of things.

Mistress was in a feisty mode Saturday afternoon.

After a bike ride and some leaf raking, We settled into an afternoon of leisure.  Mistress took a nap, and I joined her after suffering through a dismal college football game.

When she woke it was time for her to remind me who is in charge.

“Get out the strap-on slave…. It’s time.”

She slid into her gear. Made sure I had the lube on hand, but first there was some business to take care of.

“I can’t recall now why you deserve a spanking, but we might as well take care of that too.”

I remembered. But chose not to remind her. It might only get worse.

My bottom was appropriately tenderized with her long wooden shoe horn. Stingy blows rained down on me, making me squirm and whine into the pillow.

But I think we both felt better when it was done. And I know the spanking made my bottom particularly receptive to her faux cock as she pumped into me.

Mistress comes in an altogether different way when she fucks me  from behind this way. Her body jerks hard against me as her clit frictions against my ass and the leather of her harness. It seems to take her by surprise as she gasps her pleasure then collapses onto me before pulling out.

She gives me a little pat on the butt. As if I had been a good boy for her. And I had. Then she slides out of her harness. She leaves it on the floor for me to clean and put away for it’s next deployment.

“Go insert your device now Slave…. Then get back here and fuck me.”

“Of course, Mistress.”

Last evening we went to some friends’ home for dinner. It was a nice evening, sitting out back on their deck, under a full moon and stars. Mistress was allowed to “indulge”, while I went easier as the designated driver.

AS always, Mistress looked delicious: those high boots, black tights, swishy dress.

On the drive home, I had the pleasure of sliding my hands up under the dress. Mistress was a tad tipsy, but seemed to enjoy the friction of my fingers sliding along those smooth tights to the apex of her thighs, her legs spread, undulating a bit in response.

“Remember, tomorrow is switch day, Mistress …. And we’re following the regime that M proposed for you last week: tickling, teasing, but no cumming.”

She looked at me, a bit surprised.

“Ohhh…. You wouldn’t would you, Slave?”

“After all those orgasms last Sunday, I think you could handle it.  But maybe we should ask M how long you should be expected to go without an O.”

“Good idea, Slave…. Let’s see what he has to say.”

So after we got home, and Mistress got a little pre-switch orgasm from my devoted tongue, I whipped off an email to our Western Correspondent, reading it to Mistress first:

M- I've told Mistress that she's going to endure what you suggested for last sunday....tickling , teasing but not cumming ,   But how long do you think I should make her wait? Sunday night?  Monday?  Tuesday?  

She thinks if I ask you now it might hasten the time she will have to suffer without  a cum.

(I did just lick her to a midnight O, so she shouldn't have too much to complain about....)

Mick

This morning, when I woke up and slid out of bed, I found M’s response:

--

Mick:

since she intends to keep you chaste for three days..

I would recommend Monday morning...

 but with plenty of teasing in between... 

i think an hourly teasing, 

as much as possible, 

would be in order... 

feather on the clit...  

each hour sounds good to me...

maybe a home made chastity device in between.... 

3 pairs of bike shorts?  

with a sock tucked in between her legs...

 just to suck up the juice and keep her from stimulating herself ?"

  and strict observation... 

she can be a devious little slut, might slip away and cheat!

  AND I would pull down those shorts every hour or so and give her a good sound bare bottom spanking... 

will jiggle her clit,

  you will need to keep a very close watch on her at night...  

might try to go for the quick rub off in the bathroom... 

be very observant!!!

and/or bind her hands!!!

she is very smart will try to out fox U

good luck

the lazy ... but always entertained  WC 

M, thanks for your directive. I will do my best to fulfill the letter and spirit of your sentence for our beloved Mistress/Slave.

 I suspect this plan of action may drive Mistress to distraction today. MAbe she thought M would give her a reprieve. Not.

And I suspect contemplating this plan of action for Switch Day could distract a few of our readers too.

Mistress's Collection

Friday evening, Mistress was lying next to me in bed, laptop on her tummy, scrolling through her digital photo collection. She was pulling out some scenic photos of our Mountain Hideaway and environs to assemble a slideshow or her office computer. And I was watching…

But it was hard not to notice as she sorted through all those photos a certain body part.

Mistress giggled.

“He does send me a lot of cock pictures, Slave.”

Apparently he does.

Various angles.

Various states.

But mostly rigid, veined, angry, needy.

“I think you like it Mistress …. I think it speaks to you …. About what you do to him …. What you make him want to do.”

“I suppose it does, Slave.”

And of course, Mistress could delete them when they pop up on a text message at the most surprising times.

At the office.  At a lunch meeting. In a client presentation. Or the grocery store.

But she doesn’t slide them into the trash.  She collects them. They end up on her laptop, with photos of the more mundane and prosaic parts of our lives.

Horses. Fall foliage. Teens. Mountains. Cocks.

“When you glance at these photos, does it make you wet, Mistress? Does it fuel your fantasy about being on your knees, worshiping M’s special occasion cock?”

“Mmmmm….. I guess it does, Slave.”

The laptop was finding it’s way to the desk next to our bed. Mistress was sliding out of her gauzy, transparent panties.

Her hand found it’s way to my cock.

I don’t think she was surprised to find it hard and ready for her.

“I’m going to ride it, Slave….”

I knew what to do. Lay back. Let Mistress impale her sopping cunt on my workaday cock.

And if in her mind she was riding the angry one in those photos, if it was our Western Correspondent pinching her nipples, or pulling her ass down onto him with his strong hands, well, who was I to complain.

Mistress worked herself into a state, then came crashing down onto me, moaning, face flushed, her fingers reaching behind, stroking my balls.

Apparently that collection can inspire all sorts of things.

Mistress was in a feisty mode Saturday afternoon.

After a bike ride and some leaf raking, We settled into an afternoon of leisure.  Mistress took a nap, and I joined her after suffering through a dismal college football game.

When she woke it was time for her to remind me who is in charge.

“Get out the strap-on slave…. It’s time.”

She slid into her gear. Made sure I had the lube on hand, but first there was some business to take care of.

“I can’t recall now why you deserve a spanking, but we might as well take care of that too.”

I remembered. But chose not to remind her. It might only get worse.

My bottom was appropriately tenderized with her long wooden shoe horn. Stingy blows rained down on me, making me squirm and whine into the pillow.

But I think we both felt better when it was done. And I know the spanking made my bottom particularly receptive to her faux cock as she pumped into me.

Mistress comes in an altogether different way when she fucks me  from behind this way. Her body jerks hard against me as her clit frictions against my ass and the leather of her harness. It seems to take her by surprise as she gasps her pleasure then collapses onto me before pulling out.

She gives me a little pat on the butt. As if I had been a good boy for her. And I had. Then she slides out of her harness. She leaves it on the floor for me to clean and put away for it’s next deployment.

“Go insert your device now Slave…. Then get back here and fuck me.”

“Of course, Mistress.”

Last evening we went to some friends’ home for dinner. It was a nice evening, sitting out back on their deck, under a full moon and stars. Mistress was allowed to “indulge”, while I went easier as the designated driver.

AS always, Mistress looked delicious: those high boots, black tights, swishy dress.

On the drive home, I had the pleasure of sliding my hands up under the dress. Mistress was a tad tipsy, but seemed to enjoy the friction of my fingers sliding along those smooth tights to the apex of her thighs, her legs spread, undulating a bit in response.

“Remember, tomorrow is switch day, Mistress …. And we’re following the regime that M proposed for you last week: tickling, teasing, but no cumming.”

She looked at me, a bit surprised.

“Ohhh…. You wouldn’t would you, Slave?”

“After all those orgasms last Sunday, I think you could handle it.  But maybe we should ask M how long you should be expected to go without an O.”

“Good idea, Slave…. Let’s see what he has to say.”

So after we got home, and Mistress got a little pre-switch orgasm from my devoted tongue, I whipped off an email to our Western Correspondent, reading it to Mistress first:

M- I've told Mistress that she's going to endure what you suggested for last sunday....tickling , teasing but not cumming ,   But how long do you think I should make her wait? Sunday night?  Monday?  Tuesday?  

She thinks if I ask you now it might hasten the time she will have to suffer without  a cum.

(I did just lick her to a midnight O, so she shouldn't have too much to complain about....)

Mick

This morning, when I woke up and slid out of bed, I found M’s response:

--

Mick:

since she intends to keep you chaste for three days..

I would recommend Monday morning...

 but with plenty of teasing in between... 

i think an hourly teasing, 

as much as possible, 

would be in order... 

feather on the clit...  

each hour sounds good to me...

maybe a home made chastity device in between.... 

3 pairs of bike shorts?  

with a sock tucked in between her legs...

 just to suck up the juice and keep her from stimulating herself ?"

  and strict observation... 

she can be a devious little slut, might slip away and cheat!

  AND I would pull down those shorts every hour or so and give her a good sound bare bottom spanking... 

will jiggle her clit,

  you will need to keep a very close watch on her at night...  

might try to go for the quick rub off in the bathroom... 

be very observant!!!

and/or bind her hands!!!

she is very smart will try to out fox U

good luck

the lazy ... but always entertained  WC 

M, thanks for your directive. I will do my best to fulfill the letter and spirit of your sentence for our beloved Mistress/Slave.

 I suspect this plan of action may drive Mistress to distraction today. MAbe she thought M would give her a reprieve. Not.

And I suspect contemplating this plan of action for Switch Day could distract a few of our readers too.

Thwacked

Interesting and positive development: Mistress is getting more pro-active in expressing her disappointment in her Slave, and taking appropriate disciplinary measures.

Yesterday morning I did not have my writing Muse. Our recently turned 18 surly teen decided she had the right to spend the night at her boyfriend’s off campus apartment. Without permission. Actually, contrary to direction. It was a test, I suppose.

So when I woke up at 6 am or so and discovered that she was not in her bed and the car she was using was not in the driveway ….well, you parents out there can imagine what my reaction was. And my mood was not conducive to breezy, insouciant erotica of the type that she and our cadre of readers have come to expect.

Of course, that did not prevent us from enjoying ourselves between the sheets later in the morning, once we discovered that our daughter was safe (it took calling the boyfriend’s number … at least he was smart enough to know that she needed to check in or face the consequences).

But as I was dressing for a bike ride, Mistress told me that I was going to be punished.

“Why Mistress?”

“You’ll hear all about it …. Now come here”.

My pants were already off. She grabbed a fabric belt, told me to put my hands behind my back, and wrapped them together, tying a knot that would hold long enough for her purposes (not hat I would try to escape).

She picked up her long wooden shoe horn, thwacking me a dozen times. Ouch.

In the process she explained why I was being punished …. Some snarky comments, that morning, and, of course, my “incomplete” homework assignment.

My bottom stung. But I had learned my lesson. And I think it’s helpful to Mistress to externalize rather than brood about any slights of the type that had clearly irritated her ….By leaving my bottom red she had been able to get a few things off her chest. That allowed us to move on with a “clean slate”. And we did.

But before we were done, she picked up her I-phone and snapped the picture above.

“Post that tomorrow, Slave.”

“Ick. Embarrarassing, Mistress. Who wants to see some old guy’s red butt.”

“Your humiliation to our on line friends is part of the punishment, Slave.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

So there you have it. My lumpy, reddened butt. No sarcastic comments, please.

*******************************************

Later that afternoon, after bikes were ridden, errands were done and a bit of a nap, Mistress told me to fetch her strap-on.

“It’s been too long, Slave”

And maybe she was right. This is an exercise that tends to put me in my place. Maybe my snarkiness this week had to do with a Slave that had not been reminded his place more directly by his Mistress.

Taking me from behind also reminds Mistress that she has full control over me when she chooses to exercise it.

I dutifully retrieved Mistress’s harness and dido. After she was kitted up, she slid into bed next to me. I was already naked, and I helped her out of a tight black T-shirt and sports bra, giving me free access to those lovely breasts and sensitive nipples.

We fondled, sucked and slithered against one another for a while, building our arousal. Mistress grip on my cock assured her that I was more than ready. And my fingers told me just how wet and aroused Mistress had become.

“We can just fuck if you want Mistress.”

While I was not reluctant to be fucked in the ass ….I actually had been missing it … When the time comes there is always a bit of dread. It’s still hard for Mr. Type A to suck it up, roll over, spread my legs and submit to Mistress’s assault.

“Oh no, Slave. While I do want that cock …. And will have it after I am done …You really do want me to fuck you this way, admit it….”

“Ah ….yes … I suppose I do , Mistress.”

Mistress was lubing her little tool, and shared some of the baby oil gell with me. I did my own lubing with a finger, making myself ready for her.

“Of course you do, Slave. Now get into position.”

I rolled over, slid a pillow under my hips, giving Mistress the angle of attack that pleases her.

Mistress is getting good at this. She easily found her target, and drove into me.

This time I was the one doing the groaning, and once she established her rhythm, my ass was rising to meet her. I had become her cozy receptacle.


After a few minutes, Mistress thrusts become more erratic, and manic, and then she let out one of those groans from deep in her chest that told me she had come from her exertions. She gave me a few more tantalizing thrusts, then pulled away, sliding off her belt, and settling down next to me on the bed.

“Enough, Slave?”

“Yes, Mistress. More than enough.”

I was instructed to insert my white probe, and return to her. It reminds me of where she had been, and adds to the rigidity of an already quite hard cock.

Mistress likes a good fucking after taking me that way. And I was quite desperate to accommodate her.

Thwacked

Interesting and positive development: Mistress is getting more pro-active in expressing her disappointment in her Slave, and taking appropriate disciplinary measures.

Yesterday morning I did not have my writing Muse. Our recently turned 18 surly teen decided she had the right to spend the night at her boyfriend’s off campus apartment. Without permission. Actually, contrary to direction. It was a test, I suppose.

So when I woke up at 6 am or so and discovered that she was not in her bed and the car she was using was not in the driveway ….well, you parents out there can imagine what my reaction was. And my mood was not conducive to breezy, insouciant erotica of the type that she and our cadre of readers have come to expect.

Of course, that did not prevent us from enjoying ourselves between the sheets later in the morning, once we discovered that our daughter was safe (it took calling the boyfriend’s number … at least he was smart enough to know that she needed to check in or face the consequences).

But as I was dressing for a bike ride, Mistress told me that I was going to be punished.

“Why Mistress?”

“You’ll hear all about it …. Now come here”.

My pants were already off. She grabbed a fabric belt, told me to put my hands behind my back, and wrapped them together, tying a knot that would hold long enough for her purposes (not hat I would try to escape).

She picked up her long wooden shoe horn, thwacking me a dozen times. Ouch.

In the process she explained why I was being punished …. Some snarky comments, that morning, and, of course, my “incomplete” homework assignment.

My bottom stung. But I had learned my lesson. And I think it’s helpful to Mistress to externalize rather than brood about any slights of the type that had clearly irritated her ….By leaving my bottom red she had been able to get a few things off her chest. That allowed us to move on with a “clean slate”. And we did.

But before we were done, she picked up her I-phone and snapped the picture above.

“Post that tomorrow, Slave.”

“Ick. Embarrarassing, Mistress. Who wants to see some old guy’s red butt.”

“Your humiliation to our on line friends is part of the punishment, Slave.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

So there you have it. My lumpy, reddened butt. No sarcastic comments, please.

*******************************************

Later that afternoon, after bikes were ridden, errands were done and a bit of a nap, Mistress told me to fetch her strap-on.

“It’s been too long, Slave”

And maybe she was right. This is an exercise that tends to put me in my place. Maybe my snarkiness this week had to do with a Slave that had not been reminded his place more directly by his Mistress.

Taking me from behind also reminds Mistress that she has full control over me when she chooses to exercise it.

I dutifully retrieved Mistress’s harness and dido. After she was kitted up, she slid into bed next to me. I was already naked, and I helped her out of a tight black T-shirt and sports bra, giving me free access to those lovely breasts and sensitive nipples.

We fondled, sucked and slithered against one another for a while, building our arousal. Mistress grip on my cock assured her that I was more than ready. And my fingers told me just how wet and aroused Mistress had become.

“We can just fuck if you want Mistress.”

While I was not reluctant to be fucked in the ass ….I actually had been missing it … When the time comes there is always a bit of dread. It’s still hard for Mr. Type A to suck it up, roll over, spread my legs and submit to Mistress’s assault.

“Oh no, Slave. While I do want that cock …. And will have it after I am done …You really do want me to fuck you this way, admit it….”

“Ah ….yes … I suppose I do , Mistress.”

Mistress was lubing her little tool, and shared some of the baby oil gell with me. I did my own lubing with a finger, making myself ready for her.

“Of course you do, Slave. Now get into position.”

I rolled over, slid a pillow under my hips, giving Mistress the angle of attack that pleases her.

Mistress is getting good at this. She easily found her target, and drove into me.

This time I was the one doing the groaning, and once she established her rhythm, my ass was rising to meet her. I had become her cozy receptacle.


After a few minutes, Mistress thrusts become more erratic, and manic, and then she let out one of those groans from deep in her chest that told me she had come from her exertions. She gave me a few more tantalizing thrusts, then pulled away, sliding off her belt, and settling down next to me on the bed.

“Enough, Slave?”

“Yes, Mistress. More than enough.”

I was instructed to insert my white probe, and return to her. It reminds me of where she had been, and adds to the rigidity of an already quite hard cock.

Mistress likes a good fucking after taking me that way. And I was quite desperate to accommodate her.

Thwacked

Interesting and positive development: Mistress is getting more pro-active in expressing her disappointment in her Slave, and taking appropriate disciplinary measures.

Yesterday morning I did not have my writing Muse. Our recently turned 18 surly teen decided she had the right to spend the night at her boyfriend’s off campus apartment. Without permission. Actually, contrary to direction. It was a test, I suppose.

So when I woke up at 6 am or so and discovered that she was not in her bed and the car she was using was not in the driveway ….well, you parents out there can imagine what my reaction was. And my mood was not conducive to breezy, insouciant erotica of the type that she and our cadre of readers have come to expect.

Of course, that did not prevent us from enjoying ourselves between the sheets later in the morning, once we discovered that our daughter was safe (it took calling the boyfriend’s number … at least he was smart enough to know that she needed to check in or face the consequences).

But as I was dressing for a bike ride, Mistress told me that I was going to be punished.

“Why Mistress?”

“You’ll hear all about it …. Now come here”.

My pants were already off. She grabbed a fabric belt, told me to put my hands behind my back, and wrapped them together, tying a knot that would hold long enough for her purposes (not hat I would try to escape).

She picked up her long wooden shoe horn, thwacking me a dozen times. Ouch.

In the process she explained why I was being punished …. Some snarky comments, that morning, and, of course, my “incomplete” homework assignment.

My bottom stung. But I had learned my lesson. And I think it’s helpful to Mistress to externalize rather than brood about any slights of the type that had clearly irritated her ….By leaving my bottom red she had been able to get a few things off her chest. That allowed us to move on with a “clean slate”. And we did.

But before we were done, she picked up her I-phone and snapped the picture above.

“Post that tomorrow, Slave.”

“Ick. Embarrarassing, Mistress. Who wants to see some old guy’s red butt.”

“Your humiliation to our on line friends is part of the punishment, Slave.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

So there you have it. My lumpy, reddened butt. No sarcastic comments, please.

*******************************************

Later that afternoon, after bikes were ridden, errands were done and a bit of a nap, Mistress told me to fetch her strap-on.

“It’s been too long, Slave”

And maybe she was right. This is an exercise that tends to put me in my place. Maybe my snarkiness this week had to do with a Slave that had not been reminded his place more directly by his Mistress.

Taking me from behind also reminds Mistress that she has full control over me when she chooses to exercise it.

I dutifully retrieved Mistress’s harness and dido. After she was kitted up, she slid into bed next to me. I was already naked, and I helped her out of a tight black T-shirt and sports bra, giving me free access to those lovely breasts and sensitive nipples.

We fondled, sucked and slithered against one another for a while, building our arousal. Mistress grip on my cock assured her that I was more than ready. And my fingers told me just how wet and aroused Mistress had become.

“We can just fuck if you want Mistress.”

While I was not reluctant to be fucked in the ass ….I actually had been missing it … When the time comes there is always a bit of dread. It’s still hard for Mr. Type A to suck it up, roll over, spread my legs and submit to Mistress’s assault.

“Oh no, Slave. While I do want that cock …. And will have it after I am done …You really do want me to fuck you this way, admit it….”

“Ah ….yes … I suppose I do , Mistress.”

Mistress was lubing her little tool, and shared some of the baby oil gell with me. I did my own lubing with a finger, making myself ready for her.

“Of course you do, Slave. Now get into position.”

I rolled over, slid a pillow under my hips, giving Mistress the angle of attack that pleases her.

Mistress is getting good at this. She easily found her target, and drove into me.

This time I was the one doing the groaning, and once she established her rhythm, my ass was rising to meet her. I had become her cozy receptacle.


After a few minutes, Mistress thrusts become more erratic, and manic, and then she let out one of those groans from deep in her chest that told me she had come from her exertions. She gave me a few more tantalizing thrusts, then pulled away, sliding off her belt, and settling down next to me on the bed.

“Enough, Slave?”

“Yes, Mistress. More than enough.”

I was instructed to insert my white probe, and return to her. It reminds me of where she had been, and adds to the rigidity of an already quite hard cock.

Mistress likes a good fucking after taking me that way. And I was quite desperate to accommodate her.

Thwacked

Interesting and positive development: Mistress is getting more pro-active in expressing her disappointment in her Slave, and taking appropriate disciplinary measures.

Yesterday morning I did not have my writing Muse. Our recently turned 18 surly teen decided she had the right to spend the night at her boyfriend’s off campus apartment. Without permission. Actually, contrary to direction. It was a test, I suppose.

So when I woke up at 6 am or so and discovered that she was not in her bed and the car she was using was not in the driveway ….well, you parents out there can imagine what my reaction was. And my mood was not conducive to breezy, insouciant erotica of the type that she and our cadre of readers have come to expect.

Of course, that did not prevent us from enjoying ourselves between the sheets later in the morning, once we discovered that our daughter was safe (it took calling the boyfriend’s number … at least he was smart enough to know that she needed to check in or face the consequences).

But as I was dressing for a bike ride, Mistress told me that I was going to be punished.

“Why Mistress?”

“You’ll hear all about it …. Now come here”.

My pants were already off. She grabbed a fabric belt, told me to put my hands behind my back, and wrapped them together, tying a knot that would hold long enough for her purposes (not hat I would try to escape).

She picked up her long wooden shoe horn, thwacking me a dozen times. Ouch.

In the process she explained why I was being punished …. Some snarky comments, that morning, and, of course, my “incomplete” homework assignment.

My bottom stung. But I had learned my lesson. And I think it’s helpful to Mistress to externalize rather than brood about any slights of the type that had clearly irritated her ….By leaving my bottom red she had been able to get a few things off her chest. That allowed us to move on with a “clean slate”. And we did.

But before we were done, she picked up her I-phone and snapped the picture above.

“Post that tomorrow, Slave.”

“Ick. Embarrarassing, Mistress. Who wants to see some old guy’s red butt.”

“Your humiliation to our on line friends is part of the punishment, Slave.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

So there you have it. My lumpy, reddened butt. No sarcastic comments, please.

*******************************************

Later that afternoon, after bikes were ridden, errands were done and a bit of a nap, Mistress told me to fetch her strap-on.

“It’s been too long, Slave”

And maybe she was right. This is an exercise that tends to put me in my place. Maybe my snarkiness this week had to do with a Slave that had not been reminded his place more directly by his Mistress.

Taking me from behind also reminds Mistress that she has full control over me when she chooses to exercise it.

I dutifully retrieved Mistress’s harness and dido. After she was kitted up, she slid into bed next to me. I was already naked, and I helped her out of a tight black T-shirt and sports bra, giving me free access to those lovely breasts and sensitive nipples.

We fondled, sucked and slithered against one another for a while, building our arousal. Mistress grip on my cock assured her that I was more than ready. And my fingers told me just how wet and aroused Mistress had become.

“We can just fuck if you want Mistress.”

While I was not reluctant to be fucked in the ass ….I actually had been missing it … When the time comes there is always a bit of dread. It’s still hard for Mr. Type A to suck it up, roll over, spread my legs and submit to Mistress’s assault.

“Oh no, Slave. While I do want that cock …. And will have it after I am done …You really do want me to fuck you this way, admit it….”

“Ah ….yes … I suppose I do , Mistress.”

Mistress was lubing her little tool, and shared some of the baby oil gell with me. I did my own lubing with a finger, making myself ready for her.

“Of course you do, Slave. Now get into position.”

I rolled over, slid a pillow under my hips, giving Mistress the angle of attack that pleases her.

Mistress is getting good at this. She easily found her target, and drove into me.

This time I was the one doing the groaning, and once she established her rhythm, my ass was rising to meet her. I had become her cozy receptacle.


After a few minutes, Mistress thrusts become more erratic, and manic, and then she let out one of those groans from deep in her chest that told me she had come from her exertions. She gave me a few more tantalizing thrusts, then pulled away, sliding off her belt, and settling down next to me on the bed.

“Enough, Slave?”

“Yes, Mistress. More than enough.”

I was instructed to insert my white probe, and return to her. It reminds me of where she had been, and adds to the rigidity of an already quite hard cock.

Mistress likes a good fucking after taking me that way. And I was quite desperate to accommodate her.