Some of you were snickering when I reported on last Sunday’s “Switch” activities, when I decided to overload Mistress with a cornucopia of orgasms.
I could hear you. “Wow, that sure was tough on her, Mick.”
So this week, with prompting from our Western Correspondent – who finally earned his lofty monthly retainer and expense check – we tried a completely different approach.
When I came upstairs to let Mistress read the blog, and learn about her sentence, she was one step ahead of me.
“I saw that email from M, Slave…. You aren’t really going to do those things are you?”
She was already resorting to manipulation. Wheedling to get her way. It wouldn’t surprise me if she had already snuck one in under the wire, once she learned of her “sentence”
“And why not, Mistress. Doesn’t it turn you on to have M calling the shots, denying you through his minion here in River City?”
“Well….”
My finger was slowly circling her moist clit, where my tongue had explored while she read the blog. Her hips were already squirmy.
“I suppose it does Slave…”
I went to work at that point.
Her hands were bound in those little red cuffs, then tied off, together at the top of the bed.
Her ankles were tied off to the corners with some long soft strips torn from a beach towel, spreading her legs wide.
You can see her in the photo, the feather ‘Nilla recommended ready for action.
She looked delicious. And the aroma of molten cunt was already filling our room.
As M suggested, she got a good spanking first. Her bottom glowed red. She whined a bit, but took her medicine well.
I suppose she knew it was far better than what was to come.
Then She was tickled.
The feather has a nice squirmy effect on her, particularly when the tip pokes and probes between her juicy folds. Her hips strained against her bindings, in a futile attempt to evade.
“Why don’t you just let me come, Slave….. we don’t have to tell M….”
Oh, the Slave conspiracy theme. I was not falling for it.
“But that would be wrong, Mistress….”
I fed her my cock, kneeling on the bed to allow her access. She did an excellent job of bringing it to full dimensions.
Then I slid onto her back. She was so wet and eager that I found my mark immediately, sliding deep inside. But taking it slow and easy to keep Mistress on the edge.
I’ll give her credit. I know she was struggling to resist coming as I fucked her from behind. Usually the friction of her clit against the bed, and the pumping from my hard cock makes it easy for her to tip over the edge. Her labored breathing told me how hard she was working at staying under control.
“Good girl, Mistress.”
I was getting a little close to the edge myself, so slid out and picked up Mistress’s trusty Hitachi, lying next to the bed.
She saw what I was doing.
“That is completely unfair, Slave…..”
I laughed at her trepidation.
“Oh Mistress….. suck it up…..”
I learned that the Hitachi is not just a one trick pony. It also makes a lovely tickling implement, if slid along the soles of a restrained slut’s feet, or under her arms. Lots of struggling and squirming ensued, making our old wooden bed groan.
But when I slid it under those squirming hips, letting it come into contact with her sopping folds it was a different song that Mistress sang.
Her hips were doing their best to pull away, but there was very little range of motion for her.
“You’ve really got to let me come, Slave…. Or take that thing away. I really can’t take it anymore without coming.”
I decided to show her mercy. The Hitachi was parked. Her legs were untied. I rolled her over.
Then I fucked her.
I was not on denial, after all. I made sure I took it slow and easy until I was ready to come. And I did ask for permission. It’s hard to break that habit.
I almost felt guilty taking my own pleasure while Mistress was denied hers’.
Almost.
“You really are doing this, Slave?”
I think she thought M and I were just pulling her leg. That I would drag things out but ultimately relent.
“Let’s go for a bike ride, Mistress, that will distract you from your plight”
We went biking. When we got home I was off to do some maintenance at a rental property we own closer to downtown. But first I had some orders to fulfill.
“Come here Mistress….”
I was sitting on the bed.
“And pull those riding shorts down to your knees.”
She gave me the “you’ve got to be kidding me look”.
But she was a good little slut, and complied. Maybe she thought I would relent.
Instead, I pulled her over my lap for that nice bare bottom spanking M had prescribed for her. She does squirm nicely.
And when I asked her to spread those delicious thighs a bit, to allow more access, she greedily complied.
But when my fingers began to do what they have been trained to do, she began to object.
“You’re driving me crazy, Slave….. why don’t you just let me come.”
“But it’s not even noon, Mistress….. just think of our friends who have had to endure so much more denial that a mere few hours…..”
“But they don’t have someone teasing and fucking them when they are on denial, do they?”
She had a point. So I stopped my fingering of her aromatic folds, and let her off the hook.
Later in the day, she lay next to me on the couch as I read the Times and watched our miserable NFL team.
She had not gone the multiple layers of riding shorts root. Instead she elected the naked cunt under black cotton dress route. That gave me easy access to finger and taunt her every ten minutes or so.
“You know you’re driving me crazy, don’t you Slave….”
“But you taste so good, Mistress,” I said, as I licked her juices from my fingers.
And she does have a lovely pout.
Unfortunately, dear readers, my deadline has approached. Time for me to go upstairs and wake Mistress…..So I will leave you waiting for the conclusion of this little tale of frustration.
Until tomorrow, Mick
