Monday, September 1, 2014

Cage Free?

You can imagine why Slave might have been subliminally drawn to this carton of eggs the other day at our local organic grocery store. Mistress has been pretty lenient on her Slave's cage time of late, and we didn't even pack one for our trip out west.
As a general rule the cage seems to be limited to those days when Mistress has a "date" with a lover (or prospect) and the extra control gives her  a bit of a thrill.

But yesterday, as we took the hike down into the Rio Grande canyon  for some "beach time", Mistress disclosed that D, who has become a student of the blog, has raised the prospect of more cage time for Slave.

'I think he likes the idea of you in the cage, Slave....that maybe he wants to be in charge of that...."

"Hmmmm..... that's an interesting development, Mistress....."

"Not only that, but he was even talking about a chastity device for me too....."

Yikes.

"And how did you react to that, Mistress?"

"It's kind of hot, Slave.....don't you think?"

Who would I be to disagree when Mistress thinks something is hot?

Down on the river bank, where we found a couple of older gents lounging in the pools of warm spring water in the buff, we found a little patch of beach to spread out our towels. Mistress opted for some top less sunbathing, but kept her bottoms on, which seemed appropriate later when some families arrived, kids in tow.  It was a holiday weekend, and not surprising that the springs were a popular destination for the tourists in the area.

As we soaked in the sun and read from our kindles it was hard for Slave not to go back to the subject of Mistress in chastity, with D in charge of the key.

"So what did you tell when he brought up the concept of a chastity device for you, Mistress?

"Hmmmm.... I said it would have to be something you couldn't see through form fitting clothes."

Always, practical, isn't she?

"And I wondered how Id shower in it, Slave, or shave the folds....."

"I guess that would be one way for him to get that fur grown back, wouldn't it, Mistress?"

Mistress just giggled. She's grown fond of the clean shaven look, and, of course, so have I. No hairs getting caught in my teeth is a definite perk for a guy who spends some much time in worship mode.

But as I glanced down at Mistress's delectable tush,  in her tie-dye two piece suit bottoms, I couldn't help but imagine what it would be like if Mistress was wearing some sort of chastity gear underneath, at D's direction.

That's when I rolled over onto my stomach. No need to put a show on for the kids.







Sunday, August 31, 2014

Double Header

It was a very busy day here for a Saturday at the UCTMW SW Hideaway.

Of course, there was Slave's morning worship, followed by Mistress indulgently allowing me to fuck her.

Then a particularly bracing bike ride - covering lots of up hill and maybe 12 miles through our dramatic countryside. Taking the hill on our 2nd day was a bit of a stretch, but then that which does not kill you makes you stronger, right.  I took a photo of Mistress in her New Mexico biking jersey after the long climb - her body glowing as the sun reflected off the damp sheen then enveloped her ---- a photo that we will get to later.

Then there was a trip to our quaint farmer's market at the town square. It's harvest time here in the Rio Grande valley, and there were amazing tomatoes, chilis and other veggies to be had. Plus Mistress found some gluten free scones and bread.

It was as I walked back to my car that I spotted this bull whip, adorning a skull on the wall of a leather goods shop. It made me grateful that Mistress hasn't developed a fancy for whips, and had left my own hide unblemished in recent months.

But I spoke too soon.

We spent the rest of the afternoon back at our hideaway, Mistress sunning herself, Slave doing some work I had put off a bit too long, and then I broke to watch my alma mater start it's season on our tiny TV.

We had plans for the evening that started rather early. Those plans would likely cramp our typical late afternoon trysting, so Mistress made clear that she was expecting some attention from her Slave when halftime came around. Of course, with my team comfortably ahead at the half, Slave was  happy to provide my personal services. I kicked  off the 2nd half of our double header with my head buried between Mistress's powerful thighs, and tasting all those mingled flavors of the day's exertions, her musky arousal, and just a hint of the Coppertone I had been commanded to apply earlier in the day.

But when my "job" was done, after Mistress came a time or two in response to my ministrations, I was surprised by her next direction.

"You were a little surly earlier about our evening plans Slave....go get the riding crop."

Well, I promise I tried, rooting through our closet, my cock at semi-attention, apparently thinking I was going to get a quick chance to fuck before the 2nd half kick-off. Sadly, our closet was a bit of a mess, and my initial search was for naught.  Mistress was certainly disappointed, but nevertheless allowed me to climb on board and finish off the 2nd half of our doubleheader, with a warning that there would be a raincheck on the thrashing I so richly deserved.

(The good / bad news is that I was able to find the crop, after further searching later in the afternoon - just in time for switch day?)

Our 2nd double header involved music venues.

We joined some friends (the ones I was grousing about) for a house concert by one of those Texas singer songwriters. (Susan Gibson ). It was a rather staid event, on a local's patio, listening to un-amplified crooning as the sun set over the big mountain.

Then we were onto a more raucous venue where a local lady with a funky haircut - the same lady who is the postal clerk at our tiny rural post office - did her best to embody the 2nd coming of Aretha Franklin. Here's a link (Mina Tank) if you're interested.

Throughout both of these events, Mistress was not too surreptitiously using her I-phone to send text messages, and I had a feeling I knew her discrete correspondent for the evening.

Sure enough,  when we finally had a private moment, Mistress  confirmed that she was texting with  her suitor D.

"He was sexting me all night, Slave..... describing things he'd like to do to me...."

"Like what, Mistress?"

"He must have seen that photo of me you posted earlier on facebook.... he said he wanted to drag down my biking shorts and bury his head there, just like Mick does....."

"Of course he does, Mistress....."

"He also says he likes a little fur down there.... I told him I like the clean shaven look."

Well that could be an interesting conversation as it evolves...

I'd go on, but Mistress just paged her Slave.... I suppose we are going to have to discuss who will be the croper and who will be the cropee today.



Saturday, August 30, 2014

Settling In

It doesn't take Mistress and her devoted slave much time to settle into the rhythmn of life out here in the high desert. Sure we wake a little earlier than normal - it's still dark out here now with the milky way on full display - but the early rise makes plenty of time for wake up sex, a long bike ride through beautiful vistas and then breakfast.

Slave found Mistress some gluten free muffins yesterday morning at the local cafe, which put me in her good graces for most of the day. And I was rewarded with the opportunity to smear sunscreen on those delectable curves as she law in the sun on our patio, reading her kindle.

Of course the early wake up and all this fresh air makes an afternoon nap de rigeur. And what's the point of being in bed late in the afternoon, the mountains on full display through our bedroom window, without some sexual indulgence after some shut eye. I guess you could call it two rounds of wake-up sex.

Mistress's work-a-day cock was more than ready to find its path through the clean shaven folds I had prepared with the dedicated ministrations of my tongue and lips, and Mistress was particularly generous in allowing me the privilege twice in one day.

It almost made me feel sorry for the cuckold over at the The cuckolder, who has been confined to his cock cage for several days now, with Marc apparently in charge of setting the terms of his parole.  But then I suppose there are certain benefits in deferred gratification. However, if this goes on past Labor Day we may want to consider putting in a call to Amnesty International. At some point does cock confinement constitute a human rights abuse?  I wish we had Suzanne around to weight in on this.

Speaking of cucking, as we enjoyed a pre-dinner sunset out on our front portal, Mistress was texting with D about the dynamics of a prospective relationship. D seems to be both intrigued and confused about how all this works. Maybe we can get Marc to put on a seminar. Sort of a kinky version of all those motivational seminars that tour the heartland. Mistress and slave would be happy to play their parts. It has to be more fun than billing by the hour!

Friday, August 29, 2014

Answering a Few Questions

We arrived late but happy to our SW hideaway, stopping along the way for some al fresco dining on the patio of a favorite northern New Mexican restaurant about halfway from the airport. The air was fresh, cool  and free of the soupy humidity of late summer in River City, with just a hint of fresh sage from the dry scrub of the region.

As we enjoyed our late supper and the tableside made guacamole that Mistress was longing for she engaged in some light hearted texting with D, who has been reading the blog and had more than a few questions about the seemingly exotic lifestyle of Molly and mick.

She shared a few of his questions, and I know she answered but maybe I should too, if only for blogfodder, and before Mistress wakes for her morning worship.

"He wants to know if I really call you Slave all the time....."

Well, not when the kids or other vanilla folks are around, but yes, Mistress does regularly refer to me in an endearing way as her Slave. Our long lost blogger pal Suzanne would often say I am a pretty pampered house Slave, but my duties extend to yard work too!

I get a sense that Mistress likes to call me Slave and does so whenever she can. It's been nice when on those rare occasions we can spend time with those who know about our secret identities and she can be free with my "title" in a more public setting.

"He wants to know how anyone can go from Dom to cuckold. I told him we sort of did that...."

Well on that account, I probably have a different perspective.  In the earlier days of our relationship, rolling back the clock to the late 1980's and the 1990's, we would play occasional bondage and spanking games, where Slave always would be the top....  We still do the occasional switch days (check out the contract) where Mistress finds herself in some restrained positions, or with a red bottom.

See these examples (I know everyone likes pictures!)

And there was this opportunity for a cold weather cropping a few years back that caught the WC's eye, leading him to conclude that we were  in his neck of the woods:

It's clear that Mistress enjoys these opportunities to be on the bad side of the crop or the palm of my hand. But these forays into BDSM sex play did not mean ol' Mick was a Dom. Otherwise we had a very "democratic" relationship, though I suspect my age advantage had me taking the lead on some matters in our lives.

It wasn't until around 2008 that it became obvious that it was time for Mistress to take the reigns in matters sexual in our relationship. We negotiated and signed the contract. Mistress had the power to lock my cock away at her discretion. And we discovered that the dynamics of her having the freedom to take other lovers was a turn on for both of us. Who knew?

But of course, she still has the subliminal urge from time to time for a "take charge" guy in the bedroom, as our posting a while back about her "Want Ad for a Part Time Dom", describes.  But it's not been too easy to find that guy. Mistress can be a little intimidating, but she does have that submissive side available for one who can exploit and cultivate it.

And what's wrong with a little variety?