The Fabled Morning Sex

My slave is often times hard to arouse in the morning. She and I both are not what you would consider morning people in general however for her it is quite noticeable.

Thoughts of arousal are often dimmed by desire for food or to get about starting her day. A totally understandable belief however waking up with a raging erection essentially every day does not make me inclined to not try for some 'fun' between the sheets when I first rise.

That being said from time to time she will wake with desire in the morning. I would say half of those times after some mild petting it is usually agreed to eat breakfast before continuing.

The day after the Magic Wand arrived was a different experience entirely. We laid in bed talking. I ran my fingernails along her arm. Back and forth, gently.

Back and forth up and down her arm. We talked small talk. How each other slept, what our plans for the day were. Things of that nature. All the while my nails running back and forth across her skin just along her left arm. I went all around her arm, raking my nails gently but just firm enough so she could feel me on every inch of her skin.

Our conversation wound down and I found myself getting ready to stand up. My slave did not move though.Well, let me rephrase. She clutched at me and gently began to writhe against my leg.

My slave was primed.

She wanted an orgasm.

She needed an orgasm.

Now, my wife hasn't always been found of bondage. Don't get me wrong she likes a blindfold and tease with her hands tied in such a way as she can scratch an itch or move a bit if she wanted to. But the idea of her hands spread apart unable to move? Usually too much for her and would just kill any scene.

I asked her if she wanted to cum.

Her response was to look down from my eyes and nod her head softly.

I smiled softly and spoke gently"The only way I will allow you to cum is if you are tied up and blindfolded."

She pouted and thought for a moment. Of course by this time I had teased her just a bit more and I knew she wanted this orgasm badly.

She nodded her head softly as she looked at me. I smirked a bit and shook mine. "Ask me."

She looked down, part nerves part her mind wrapping her head around the fact that she wanted to submit I assume.

"Will Sir please tie and blindfold me so that I may orgasm?"

"Yes slave. I will."

Now I had not intended to fuck her right then and there. I figured I could get her off a few times and then we could go about our day with her fucking to be saved for that night.

As she laid there, arms spread wide and tied to the headboard. Her eyes blindfolded. Her nude form writhing against her bondage as I pressed that Magic Wand against her clit until she came I knew I had to take her.

I will let your imagination fill in the blanks here ;-)

Until next time.

And Begging for Caging

My slave always comes up with the most devious ideas for me. I barely need to think of ways to torment him; arouse him just a bit, and he’ll end up telling me exactly what he fears and hopes I’m about to do.

That was the case yesterday as we prepared to finally order our Queen’s Keep.

Slave (who works nights and sleeps days) had left me a not-so-humble message requesting that I awaken him that afternoon by “jumping his bones.” I wasn’t particularly in the mood for that, for a variety of reasons, so I decided that I would give him everything he wanted except the orgasm. It seemed a fitting way to start the day we planned to buy our first metal cage.

As I slid naked between the silky sheets and wrapped my hand around his cock, slave immediately woke up as if he’d been eagerly anticipating the bone-jumping in his sleep. He didn’t know yet what was in store. 

“Good morning, love,” I whispered in the playfully dominant tone that he would have recognized as dangerous if he’d been fully awake. The curtains were still drawn and the room dark. His eyes were sleepy and half-aware as I pressed small kisses against his face and ear, my hand quickly teasing his penis upright. “So you want me to jump your bones this morning, hmm?” 

“Mmm, yes.” He reached for my nipples, and I let him touch briefly before deciding that wasn’t what I wanted. Instead of indulging his touch, I pulled my hand away from his cock and pressed my face against his chest, biting his nipple and kissing downward just a few inches. He gasped sharply in expectation, recognizing my usual signal that I am going to continue down his body and suck him. 

As his body tightened in readiness for my mouth, I abruptly moved back up to look him in the eyes.

“Oh, did you think I was going to suck you?” My hand brushed just the edge of the base of his erection. “Did you think I was about to move down here?”

“Yes,” he whimpered with the dawning realization that I was not in a generous mood. Suddenly, he gave me the perfect focus for the afternoon: “You’re going to make me beg to buy the cage, aren’t you?” 

I love it when slave’s innermost desires make themselves known like that. He claims he doesn’t do it on purpose, but it happens so often.

“What a good idea…” I said thoughtfully. “Yes, now that you mention it, I think I will!”

I spent half an hour extending my slow progression of licking and kisses and sucking down his chest, over his stomach, and finally to his pelvis, only to pass it by and suck hard on his inner thigh. Each time I paused to kiss him deeply on the lips before slowly starting my journey again at his nipples, my right hand always trailing down to almost touch his hardness as I kissed. If his hand ever moved toward his cock, I halted, removing it but not bothering to restrain him, starting over again from the top.

When he was breathing hard and gasping at my smallest touch, I finally, unceremoniously took him into my mouth, tightening my lips like the entrance to my pussy, sliding down in one smooth movement to take him fully inside. His balls instantly tightened in my hand, but I sucked hard for a few more seconds before drawing back to work the head with my tongue. He started begging—but not the right way.

“Oh pleeeease, let me cum, please Mistress….”

I sat up and raised an eyebrow. “Cum? Isn’t there something else you’d like to beg for instead?”

As usual, his silence did not last much longer after I applied myself to his rock-hard cock again. 

“Please…Mistress…slave wants to buy the cage…slave wants to be locked up all the time.”

I paused again—not the reaction he’d been hoping for. I released the cock and straddled him, pressing my chest to his and enjoying the intimate contact as I smiled into his eyes. “So you want to be locked up, do you, slave? That’s going to be fun.” 

“Please….” His hips were rotating against me. I was a little wet after all this teasing, and I decided to test the waters, though I doubted I’d let him cum inside me. I sat up and eased him into me slowly, drawing pained gasps from him as I withdrew over and over until he was comfortably inside. “Please…it would be fitting for me to cum inside you on this day that I begged to be caged…” he begged.

“Would it?” I asked skeptically. “I think it would be more fitting if I didn’t let you cum on this day. Don’t you agree?”

His eyes widened as he moaned a bit and shook his head. He touched me and tried to spark my full arousal, but I simply wasn’t in the right mood to follow that path. I teased him a bit more with my wetness, rotating on top of him, clenching around him. And then, with no warning, I withdrew. “Not today, slave.”

His desperate whining and thrusting into the air convinced me to finish him off quickly with a subpar orgasm that would allow him to focus on the other household affairs I wanted to discuss before he left for work. I gave him a quick and fairly unsatisfying hand job to take the edge off his horniness, and we soon proceeded to the Mature Metal website. I was gripping his still-hard cock as I clicked the mouse to finally confirm our purchase of a Queen's Keep.

A note on the purchase, for the curious: Our decision was between the Jail Bird and the Queen’s Keep. He’d favored the Queen’s Keep originally, but we considered the JB because so many people cited it as the most popular. Ultimately, we went with the QK for these reasons: my slave found it aesthetically more pleasing, and we were able to order a security screw. This would allow him to be less self-conscious about a padlock clinking inside his pants, and it would provide insurance that he couldn’t make a copy of the key. (I don’t particularly think he ever would, since this is not truly forced chastity, but it still seems to arouse him to know that he can’t.)

Besides, I must say I like the name of the Queen’s Keep better. It keeps the focus where it belongs: on me, the holder of the key.

Mistress K

Begging for Plugging

My slave is lying next to me spread-eagled, blindfolded, collared, gagged, and plugged. This is fast becoming one of my favorite ways to write a blog post.

I woke up this morning knowing it was a day for teasing. With our conflicting work schedules, we rarely have a lazy day to spend on drawn-out sex play. I was not about to be rushed into a morning quickie with the whole 4^th of July day ahead of us. 

Feeling his erection poking into my back, I turned around and cuddled against him, running my hand down his body and whispering my plans to him as he woke up fully. 

“It’s been a while since you’ve been tied and gagged,” I said. “I want you collared and preparing my computer while I eat breakfast. Then I’m going to cuff you, gag you, blindfold you, tease you with my mouth, and leave you lying there while I write my next blog post. After that, I’ll ride you. And you’ll probably cum.” 

Needless to say, he woke up quickly at that.

After a leisurely breakfast with my collared slave gently massaging my shoulders and my nipples, I ordered him to the bedroom to get everything ready. As I thought about the toys, I mused, “Maybe this time I’ll slip the vibrator in your ass before I leave you there…but then I won’t have it to use for myself!”

“There’s always the butt plugs, Mistress,” he reminded me meekly. I’d forgotten those! We’d bought them about a month ago, just before the events that paused our play for a while. 

My slave is so obedient and giving, always making sure I have all the right tools at hand, even when he knows it might not bode well for him. 

Soon he was in place and I was cropping his thighs—lightly, since he’d been quite good this morning—and rubbing my pussy against his skin—along his thigh, along his stomach, anywhere but the cock that wanted it most. He wasn’t gagged just yet, and I took advantage, positioning my nipple in front of his mouth. “You may worship,” I breathed against his ear, pulling his earlobe between my teeth and grinding my moistening sex against him as he licked and lightly sucked my breast. I didn’t want to cum yet myself, and when I’d had enough of that, I moved back down and set to work bringing him to the brink with my mouth. Soon he was moaning and thrusting his hips (as much as he could, with his ankles tied to the legs of the bed—so not much). I knew these were the noises of a slave afraid he would cum without permission soon. Now was the time.

“Do you want to cum today?” I asked as I slid my body up his, punctuating the question with a sharp bite to his nipple. 

“Yes!” he gasped. 

“Then you’re going to beg for me to put the plug in your ass.”

That shut him up. He whimpered a few times, not in the tone of a man who thinks he might not cum, but in the tone of a man who knows he is about to be voluntarily emasculated just a little bit more.

I knew it wouldn’t be long, but I had no intention of drawing it out. We both knew he’d be begging soon. I closed my mouth back over his cock, pressed my fingers against the base, and started sucking hard, rubbing my tongue against his glans. Within seconds, I heard, “Please.” 

I paused to tweak his nipples hard. “Please what?” I sucked again, but it wasn’t necessary. He was already whimpering, “Please use the plug!” 

I gave him a few more seconds of stimulation as reward. “Well, since you asked….”

I had become much more comfortable with his ass since we first started anal play, and it was quite satisfying to slide the plug—the medium sized plug from the “beginner” set, which hadn’t been used yet—watching his ass resist slightly and then lovingly grip it inside. 

I gagged him, covered his ears with headphones blasting our usual bondage soundtrack, and settled in to write.

It’s quite inspiring to sit here with the vibrator between my legs listening to him groan, watching him squirm as much as he can against his ties. We had to remove the plug about halfway through once it got uncomfortable, but it was quite thrilling to pause my typing to suck him into my mouth and know that with every small thrust of his hips he was stimulated unbearably at both ends. I’ve brought him to the edge about five times now.

Time to wrap up. I want to cum. 

Happy Independence Day. Especially for those of you who’ve given up a few particular freedoms to a deserving goddess ;)

Until next time,

Mistress K

Topping from the Bottom

Being a dominatrix does not mean I should miss out on the pleasures of handcuffs and blindfolds.

Although I’m growing into my role as Mistress, I have no objections to ceding control once in a while…to an extent. I find that sensory deprivation heightens my arousal just as much as it does my slave’s. With my eyes covered it is even easier to focus on the sensations in my body and casually neglect the living toy between my legs. There is no obligation to touch him or acknowledge him—I couldn’t even if I wanted to.

Part of the motivation for orgasm control is the intensification of the long-awaited orgasm (among many other more complex motivations, I know). Why should only my slave experience that intensity? I want to be teased, licked and toyed with for hours, brought to the edge over and over until I’m panting and trembling and my muscles ache with the tension. I deserve to be denied until I cannot stand anymore and I’m begging for the perfect, blinding release.

I find there is an interesting mixture of powerlessness and command when the Mistress allows herself to be tied up. Though it may seem she is at the mercy of her slave, the opposite is true. When I order my slave to tease and deny me and not to enter me until I am begging for it—or better yet, when I lock his cock in a cage and hide the key until I can’t restrain myself from telling him where to find it—I am manipulating my own climax. I am ensuring my own pleasure. Slave might be torturously aroused after days of denial and an hour spent between his Mistress’s thighs, but he does not choose the moment. With my resolution not to plead until the need forces the words from my throat with my whimpers, I choose the moment.

It’s simply who we are. I might be tied down on my back, but we all know who comes—and cums—first.

Mistress K