Mistress Gets Her Squirm On.

As Switch Day dawned here at the Collins family compound, I really had no specific plan for Mistress, though my bottom still had the faint memory of the cropping I had received the afternoon before.

I suppose some Slaves with a switch option in their contract might jump on the opportunity to “return the favor” particular when sporting fresh, hard earned welts.

But oddly, when Mistress gets all dommy with me – wields the crop and deploys her strap on – it really makes me a bit more subby, and much less inclined to highlight her own, much more shapely bottom with some tender red stripes.

Oops. Maybe I should not have disclosed such a weak-kneed proclivity.

In any event, after Mistress paged me, I brought her up the Sunday papers. We perused them for a while, before I handed her the laptop for her morning blog read. As is typical, I feaster on her parts, got the juices flowing, while she read my morning homework and scanned a few other blogs.

But then it was time for her to face the music.

I reached into our little bed side table, pulling out the red leather wrist cuffs, and the companion locks.

This was the cue for Mistress to wrap herself tightly in the covers.

“But its cold, Slave.. “

She does like to whine and wheedle.

But ultimately she was a good sport. Though she expressed a little surprise when I locked her wrists behind her back.

“What are you up to Slave?”

Then she squirmed some more – more complaints about the “frigid” air, as I reached for her ankles, linking them together under the covers with some leather binders.

This is where my improvisation began.

I don’t recall ever having Mistress in the classic hogtie position.

But there is a first time for everything.

And since I had decided to give her a pass on any serious cropping or spanking, I didn’t have to worry about full access to her lush bottom, did I?

A length of rope stuffed into that bedside drawer would provide the proper link. SO the covers came off, her legs were pulled up towards her wrists, and the connection was made. Not too strenuous…. But enough to make those strong muscles in shoulders and legs strain just a bit… and how does she look dear readers, all vulnerable and bound?

I took a few photos then.

“Remember Slave…. I get approval rights before any of those get posted….”

“Does that really apply on Switch Day, Mistress…. I’m not sure you’ve read the contract carefully….”

“You know it does, Slave….or you will really be in trouble….”

Can anyone recommend a good ball gag vender. I do think that might be a good addition to our toy box.

After our little photo shoot, I slid down onto the bed next to Mistress, stroking her with my fingers, nibbling a bit at the lovely expanse of helpless flesh on display for me.

“You really are quite beautiful like this Mistress….”

She just cooed into the pillow a bit as I explored a bit. the squirming had begun.

But then I reached for the Hitachi, parked, as usual, just under our bed. I thumbed it on.

“Don’t put it on ‘Hi’ Slave….”

“Ohhh. Listen to you, still giving orders….”

But I had no reason to put it on “hi”…. Not hurray here.

The business end of the pwer tool slid nicely between her thighs from behind… probably not exactly where Mistress would place it if she was at the controls…. But then that was the fun part…. Seeing her wriggle, squirm and buck a bit to get just the right purchase….

Yum.

Her musky scent was beginning to fill the room. A slight sheen of perspiration was springing forth.

“Still cold, Mistress….”

“Uhhh… guess not, Slave….”

“remember, you must ask for permission….”

“Yes Slave….. “

She seemed to be in the spirit of things now…. Wriggling to and frow, straining to spread bound legs just enough to get her sodden parts just where that little churning machine could do its optimal work.

“May I come now, Slave… please…..”

Who could deny such a pitiful request. Well, sometimes I could… but not yesterday…

“Of course you may, Mistress…. Go for it…”

I could tell she had been holding back … just a bit…. maybe afraid that I would say “no”…

So it took her a good 30 seconds or so to get full cummy momentum and then plunge full speed over the edge…. Humping the mattress, and moaning into her pillow. After the aftershocks subsided, she suggested that had been enough.

“You can stop it now, Slave.”

But I didn’t. She didn’t seem so desperate for the end… not just yet. I “cruelly” forced one more out of her, her leg muscles straining, shoulder and arms stretching as she tried with a certain delicious determination to clutch at the tool as it took her back over the precipice one more time.

By now her body was nice and sticky with a combination of salty perspiration and her juices…

“Now Slave…. Please turn it off.”

“As you wish, Mistress….”

I let her rest a bit, cuddling next to her, as I untied the rope that connected wrists to feet. Then I took off the leather cuffs at her ankles, letting her stretch and rest a bit.

She wiggled her wrists.

“What about these, Slave?”

“Ohhh… not done yet, Mistress….”

My next little experiment was having her ride my cock with wrists bound….

It took a little more effort than you might imagine. Her body was a little tired and tight, but with some helpful pushing and prodding I had her up and over me, and her fingers were quite helpful in guiding my firm and friendly cock where it was destined to be.

Suffice it to say that Mistress, once on top, got into the sprit of things…

Her bound hands were at just the right position to toy with my balls, even as my fingers could tweek helpless nipples.

“I bet M would like this, Mistress making you ride his cock with your hands all helpless….”

“Mmmmm….”

Her eyes were shut tight… envisioning it no doubt.

“And I bet you’d enjoy that too, wouldn’t you….”

“I would, Slave…”

Make a note, M.

Soon she was coming again, with a loud moan of surrender to her desires, then collapsing onto me. As I hugged her close, my cock still sliding into her, but at a more relaxed pace, I realized that I had taken her about as far as seemed fair on our little Switch Day.

So I helped her roll over, unfastened her wrists, let her stretch out a bit, then took my own reward.

And it’s funny how, even on Switch Day, things always seem to end with me asking for her permission to come.

Mistress Gets Feisty

It was a busy Saturday here  at the UCTMW World HQ.

Carrying forth with yesterday’s Sit-Com analogy, this could be one of those back to back episode extravaganzas …. And yet, well, I have some Switch Day planning to do this morning.  Need to save some creative energy for that, don’t I?

So, roll the cutsey pooh credits, and let her rip……

Episode One:

Mistress was a horny little slut yesterday morning, if I may be so bold.

As she read the blog, and some of the comments that had already filtered in, I was buried between her muscular thighs under the sheet, lavishing her sodden folds with plenty of attention. And once the lap-top was set aside, she had a little amuse- bouche of an orgasm, complements of my tongue, sort of getting her appetite revved up for what would be served up next.

She pulled me up and next to her, grappling for my cock. It was already beginning to rise to the occasion, but with Mistress subtle (well, really not so subtle) grip, I was soon begging for permission to fuck her….and it took her a while to agree. She was amused by my pitiful pleas, it seemed.

But when she finally did agree to my entreaties, much to my desperate gratification, she threw a change up.

“Do me from behind, Slave….”

Hmmm… something that had been left off the menu for a few weeks. I was wondering what made Mistress want to go in this direction – some smutty little fantasy about our Western Correspondent I suspected – but I was happy to play my supporting role in it.

With some help from Mistress’s fingers I found my way in from behind, and made sure I pumped her with the type of fervid rhythm that seems to press the buttons for her in this position. And since it’s not a position that Slave readily comes in, well, all the better for Mistress, right? She knew I would not be annoying her with a request to come any time soon.

It was hard to tell if Mistress came that way, as I pressed her body hard against the mattress, sliding in and out with a good pace from behind….but after a while, it was another change-up from her.

“I want to be on top now, Slave….”

“Of course, Mistress….”

Hmmm….. more high energy from Mistress. 

I slid off and over, rolling onto my back…. Mistress commented on my rather prominent cock, pointing up at her at a right angle from my tummy, like an old Atlas rocket about to chase down Sputnik and put it in its place (or was it Spud-Nut? … DM Sarah P., she would know….)

Quickly Mistress mounted me, and it was not long before she was squeezing those sultry green eyes shut, moaning and quaking with one of those seismic cums that seem to visit her in this position…. She was reaching back now, fondling my balls, and I was so close, but not …just …. there.  

Arghhhh.

And I could tell Mistress was getting tired riding my cock, so I suggested we roll over…

She seemed grateful, sliding off me, then onto her back….and I was on top of her lickity split. Not long thereafter, it was Slave begging for permission, and Mistress generously saying “Yes, my Slave…”

That was my cue to go for it. It seemed I came in a long series of spasms, before collapsing back onto her soft, warm body.

At this point Slave could have gone back to sleep, cuddled next to her…. Brain and body dead like a piece of fully depreciated livestock.

But Mistress was  not quite done.

“Hand me the Hitachi, Slave…..”

Wow. Some guys might feel that their services had come up short under such circumstances. But, call me cocky, I knew I had left it all on the field….

On this particular morning, Mistress’s needs were just a little more than something a mere cock could handle, and I had no shame in reaching under the bed and thumbing her power tool on for her.

I sidled next to her as the churning device slid under the sheets. I happily took on the role of supporting actor, gnawing on a nipple, then probing her mouth with my tongue, as she took matters into her own hands.

And soon she was bucking up against the machine’s soft churning bulb, her head thrown back, moaning with the final release of a well earned climax to our morning’s adventures.

At that point we both drifted off, spent….

Episode Two

So I was down in the bowels of the UCTMW World HQ, painting a door to our garage. (Yes, your humble Executive Editor / General Counsel / Risk Management Analyst also acts as weekend maintenance technician here in River City).

Mistress wandered downstairs, calling for me. I looked up. She had a phone pressed to her ear.

“I have the WC on the phone, Slave…. And he reminds me that you are due a punishment.”

Huh?

Apparently, our Western Correspondent was buttonholing our Boss, playing some office politics, whilst I am tending to mundane company business. He had been taking the CEO aside and throwing me under the bus. No doubt he’s angling for a fancier title and my corner office. 

But I stifled my complaints….biding my time.  There will be payback … maybe I will send the IRS a bogus 1099 from “UCTMW Enterprises” in M’s name. Let the WC explain that one to his accountant.

“No doubt he’s right, Mistress.”

 “Why don’t you finish up soon down here Slave, and meet me in our bedroom.”

She went back upstairs, still chatting with flirtatious animation to M….

I soon had one coat of dark green paint on the door, and put my supplies away. After washing up, I headed upstairs, where Mistress, done with her talk, soon joined me.

“Get out my supplies, Slave.”

I knew exactly what she meant. The strap-on and its faux cock. The lube.

“And make sure you get me the riding crop too….”

I laid her supplies on the bed. She snapped a photo of the crop, and texted it off to M, letting him in on what was to come.  No doubt he would be amused that the seed he had planted would soon be sprouting.

I did not have to ask whether to strip off my pants and underwear, as Mistress slid into her harness. Soon she was ready for action, riding crop in hand.

”On your stomach Slave…. And be still….”

Of course, I complied, but asked, “and why am I  being punished, Mistress….”

“You know why….”

The first blow landed with a stinging surprise.

Yow.

“I am not sure, Mistress….”

Dumb move.

Two more had me squirming, trying to suppress my verbal complaints by chomping on a pillow.

“You were a real ass-hole twice this week, Slave….”

Yes. True. Two drives to work where Mistress had to tell me to “stifle”.

Are we sounding like Archie and Edith here? But with the roles reversed? Could be.

After the fourth blow, I was more than ready to admit my sins. But the blows kept raining down, and they sure hurt. 

Damn they hurt.

Unrestrained, I could not avoid rolling over and away at one point, to avoid the crop that Mistress was wielding so effectively. But her stern look made me realize that would only extend the punishment. So I sucked it up and submitted….

It’s at moments like these that I wish I had more padding back there.

But, at last, Mistress relented.

Sitting next to me and running her warm, now merciful hands along my ass. The fire was already receding, but she oohed and ahhed a bit.

“Oh my…. What nice red welts you have, Slave….”

She reached for her I-phone, snapped a photo, fiddled with her keyboard. I’m not sure if one went to M, but one went to my email account. I was instructed to show it to you all today….

Then she handed me the lube after applying a generous amount to her “cock”. 

“Are you ready for the next part, Slave.”

I was. This would be a picnic, compared to that crop.

She found her little target with no difficulty, then began pumping home.

I have a feeling that her warm up act -the process of making me writhe in pain for her, all my exclamations of agony - actually may have enhanced her own … arousal.

Because it was really only a matter of about 90 seconds… at least so it seemed …. Before she was coming hard and long with against my ass with those tell-tale spasms of ecstasy.

“Wow, Mistress…. I think you liked that….”

“Yes…. I did Slave…. Very satisfying….”

She was sliding out of me now, dropping her harness onto the floor for me to clean up and pack away afterwards….

“Why don’t you go insert your little device, and get back here and fuck me….”

I did not have to think twice about toeing that particular line.

Is this Just Another Sit-Com?

Thursday night, as Mistress, her Slave and our WC toyed with one another between episodes of The Office and Parks and Recreation, I realized that the primitive appeal of the network Sit-Com has a lot in common with what makes those of us in this little community keep coming back to each others’ blogs, day after day.

Whether it was Taxi, Seinfeld, Mary Tyler Moore, or the current more exotic crop of shows like Californication, the appeal of those silly confections is the same: a familiar, endearing, yet quirky cast of characters, doing what they do, week after week, year after year, with only a subtle change up, or new character thrown into the mix to extend the shelf life just a little longer.

After a while, characters like Sam Malone, Mary Richards, George Castanza and the rest become part of your extended “family”, imaginary as they may be. You develop a bit of an addiction to see what might happen to them next.


So what are we all doing here? (Actually, the better question is what are YOU all doing here?)

Here at UCTMW we really don’t do much every day that is all that different. Sex in the morning. A little afternoon worship. Occasional phone sex with the WC before bed, or over the weekend.

I try to throw a change-up every now and then. And there are often some cheesecake photos of the lovely Mistress to distract and amuse…..

But we are not inclined to a whole lot of self-analysis or introspection. What do you expect from an aging Irish guy who picked an Irish street fighter as his blog-o-sphere namesake? Navel gazing? No way.

Yet we still are getting more than 1000 page views everyday. More than 600 “unique” visitors stop by most days. And about 150 of you are repeat voyeurs daily.

I suspect what draws you here is a certain familiarity and comfort with our “characters”, despite a very thin plot line.

Will the WC recover from frozen cock syndrome?

Will Molly ever jump on a plane for a surprise visit to our Western office to conduct an audit of his expense account and inspect that Special occasion equipment?

Will someone ever try to open Mick’s office door just as Mistress is coming?


It’s not unlike wondering whether Lou Grant will ever make a pass at Mary Richards?

Or whether Sam will finally end up in bed with Diane?


We may well be the Burns and Allen of sex bloggers. But we are having fun, and our aim is to spread the good humour and kinky vibes to a broader audience.

And why do we follow you?

We are amazed by Tammy’s seemingly unlimited willingness to submit so completely to the demands of Suzanne, Jay and all those friends and relatives?

And we need to know whether Suzanne will end up being the subject of our Western Correspondent’s ass-fucking tutorial after the Super Bowl?

Over at “Jumping on In”, we follow SFP’s revolving cast of characters, which are taking on the quirky depth and variety of Jerry Sienfeld’s stable of dates.

And we wonder if Aisha will negotiate her way into the clutches of the mystery Dom who lives so far away.

Of course, one difference is the opportunity to comment, email, text and phone one another, that allows us to barge onto the pages of another little blog world and kibitz a bit. Our chance to meet Aisha and D, and visit their down river dungeon, was almost like Lou and Mary showing up on the set of “All in the Family”. Improbable, but lots of fun.

But enough of this over analysis. True to the spirit of this entry, I need to catch you up, if briefly on events here on the Collins family set.

First, Molly blushed a bit to all those lovely comments you left yesterday about her Ass. Yes, I feel like the comedian who holds one hand up to stop the applause, while the other hand is inviting more.

And at some point yesterday morning, she texted me about a specific comment.

“Sin wants to see that picture of you in the cock-cage. …We’ll see.” It’s on her phone, so it’s up to her to pass it on, folks. So far I have been spared.

And M and Mistress were tossing other photos back and forth via text and email during the day. It seems that M and his wife B dined at a restaurant in their hometown at lunchtime. When M described it to Molly, she passed on a photo of she and her Slave dining at the very same place in the summer of 2008.

Odd Serendipity.

After a trip to the gym at the end of the work day, Mistress and Slave had a “picnic” to catch up on the latest episode of “Big Love” (dark, very dark this season), then retired to bed.

Actually, Mistress retired first, as I cleaned our dishes. What else would a Slave do?

As I entered our bedroom, Mistress was under a blanket, naked. And on the phone.

“It’s M, Slave…. He asked me to call.”

“Would you like me to go downstairs and give you two lovebirds some privacy, Mistress?”

“No Slave…. Just get ready for bed.”

They chatted as I stripped down, then settled into bed next to her. I picked up my laptop to review your comments and to check out Suzanne’s weekend plans. Like her at the end of the day, Mistress was still a bit sweaty from our trip to the gym, and I planned to make sure she was tongued clean before bedtime.

Mistress and M talked about the comment he had left on our blog, asking UCTMW to treat him to the attentions of a $500/hr. massage therapist to bring that sad, frozen cock back to full health. I couldn’t resist making a comment.

“That’s higher than your hourly rate, Mistress….”

“M… the Slave says that’s too much … why don’t I just come out there and give you all the therapy you need…. And I could audit your expense account records while I am at it?”

At about this point, after leaving a few pithy comments on some of your blogs, I had to intervene. Setting aside the laptop, I settled in between Mistress’s tangy, salty thighs.

“He’s at it again, M…. what is a Mistress to do?”

But she hardly pushed me aside, and I could tell M had gotten with the program. Soon Mistress was cooing back at him with all those “Yes, M….. I would M……” phrases, that tell me she is getting into the “zone” with his highly skilled verbal assistance.

And I don’t need to tell you what happened next…..the bucking, moaning, the scissored legs squeezing my balding head. Clearly, two guys can do Mistress much better than one.

And once Mistress and M signed off, I received the dividend.

Hopefully, M got his own reward before the night was out.

And since this blog was a bit of a retrospective, I’ve added a photo above from the UCTMW annals that is a bit of a flashback, particularly for our Western Correspondent.

It appeared very early on these pages, back in  2009.

M says that when he saw it, he knew that Mick and Molly were in territory not too far from his own. Apparently it piqued an interest that led, step by step, to his current and ever evolving relationship with Mistress and UCTMW Enterprises.

Considering how long it took Diane to finally nail Sam Malone (or was it the reverse?), there is plenty of time to draw this little comedic soap opera out.

Mistress "Works from Home"

As promised, Slave spent the work day in his cage yesterday., while Mistress spent a well deserved day “working from home”.

My first stop was at a lab near in River City’s big University / Hospital complex. My annual physical is coming up and the Doc always send me in for a blood test to check on my cholesterol, etc., etc. But when the perky nurse handed me the little cup for the requisite urine sample, well…. peeing into a cup through a cock cage can have its challenges….

Mistress was amused when I told her about that little adventure as I drove to my office, catching her on the way to the gym. And then later we talked when she called me from the nail salon. No doubt she was sending out important office emails with one hand, as the nail-lady worked on the other.

At one point, as I struggled through some rather tedious drafting of my own, Mistress texted: “Just used the Hitachi. Ha ha.” Of course, my “no touch” rule remains in effect – all hard cocks are at Mistress’s disposal here at UCTMW – but even if I had been of a mind to break it, well, the steel cage would have resolved that problem.

When I finally got home, there was some home made chili bubbling on the range, and Mistress seemed to be genuinely relaxed – a good thing after a stressful first half of her week. When I asked, she was more than happy to let me worship her. I knelt at the side of the bed. She tugged down her jeans, and I was able to dig in to her lovely damp folds. Once she had her fill she agreed to unlock me.

“But first, let’s take a shot of you in the cage to send to M….”

My trousers were already off, and I pulled up a T-shirt to give her the right angle. She then texted it off to M, presumably to bolster her Mistress cred.

At that point she used her little key to spring me free, and gave my liberated cock an affectionate pat.

“Sex after dinner Slave…. If you’re good.”

After feeding our surly teens – and congratulating the Senior who received an unsolicited scholarship offer from one of the Colleges on her short list (!!!!!!) – we adjourned to our bedroom. The plan was to catch up on your blogs, watch The Office, and then burrow into the sheets for some pre-snooze fucking.

But then there was a text from M.

“He wants me to call Slave…. Alright?”

“Of course, Mistress…. Let me know if you want me to leave the room.”

She just patted me.

“No you can stay here, Slave.”

I was still on my laptop as they chatted about their day. M was amused by the shot of me in my cock cage. And to be a trouble maker, I interjected a bit.

“Maybe you’d like to turn the tables and get M into your cage someday, Mistress….”

“Slave says you should think about being caged like that, M.”

“Although I assume we would need a super-sized version, don’t you think, Mistress.”

She laughed. Passed that uppity remark on….

“M says it would be way too frustrating for him…. He’s used to easy access…. At work, in the car….when B is out…..”

No I guess M doesn’t have the discipline to accept Mistress’s cage. But it’s an intriguing thought. I suspect we have more than a few lurkers out there who would jump at the chance.

“M thinks I should make you post the photo on the blog, Slave….to show everyone what a good obedient Slave you are….”

Blush….. that always is a little embarrassing. So I came up with a reason to avoid that posting.

“But Mistress, what if there are a lot of comments about my caged cock….. won’t that annoy you…. Since no one commented on your ass despite that lovely photo in today’s blog.”

She laughed……”Slave, wheedling, M….. I hope you don’t mention that in the blog, it will sound like I’m fishing for compliments.“

Oops.

Somehow the chat about the cage had gotten to me, reminding me of that long period of denial, and I put the laptop aside. And you can suspect where I headed.

“Ahhh…. M…. he’s at it again…. he just can’t control himself.”

But Mistress did not push me away as my lips and tongue found there way between her legs…. All naked and ready for me.

“My parts are a;; exposed here M…. as they usually are by this time of the night. And I guess he just can’t resist.”

Soon M was playing his part…. Whispering those incendiary words and phrases that – combined with my avid ministrations – soon had Mistress bucking against me, her legs squeezing my head as she moaned her ecstasy into the phone to him.

We do make a good tag team, M. If you’re not going to write, at least this is one way to earn your over-budget expense account.

Mistress said “enough”, so I just laid there on her lap for a while, a bit zoned out, horny as hell after my day in the cage, but knowing “my place”, and waiting patiently for their talk to end.

As they talked on, I concluded that Mistress had sufficient rest and might welcome a little more intimate attention. So I was back at it, consumed by her sultry taste and musky aroma.

“He’s at it again, M….. he just can’t seem to get enough.”

Uhhh…. No, I can’t.

And M seemed more than happy to indulge Mistress with another round of salacious talk. Until she came all over my face again. Yum.

But soom their talk ended, and the Collins’ watched the Office, as planned (thank god for that instant replay feature on our cable box). The 30 minute episode gave Mistress a little time to relax before she let her Slave have his way with her.

“Why don’t you insert your little device first, Slave.”

It seemed inevitable, what with all that Butt plug talk in yesterday’s blog.

“Of course, Mistress.”

Luckily, it was not mistakenly placed in the freezer.

And so Slave was – at last – given permission to fuck his beloved Mistress, making sure she had at least two more orgasms before asking for my own permission to come.

And when I suggested that we watch “Parks and Recreation” – our other Sit Com indulgence – Mistress just rolled over, apparently zonked.

“I’m going to sleep, Slave…. Too many orgasms today.”

Poor Dear.

HNT / A Tutorial on Butt Plugs from our Southern Correspondent

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First, here are some photos of Mistress from our Switch day, this past Sunday. 

Lovely, bottom, don’t you think? Plus, as an HNT bonus, here is  a view of Molly after she just begged to wear those pegs, for the privilege of having all those orgasms.  (Today ‘Nilla has her pegs on too!, making it “DPT”, or “double peg Thursday” in this little corner of blogland.).

And lest you be concerned, things were on a more even keel here at the UCTMW World HQ yesterday .

Despite some angst about our Surly Teen #2, we had some satisfying if efficient morning sex, a stop by worship in my office before lunch, and then, last night, with my little white device firmly in place, some very hot good night fucking.

So Mistress got her usual supply or orgasms, and her Slave “came” out well too. Mistress reminded me that Wednesday used to be my Abstinence Day. But we seem to have fallen off that wagon. One can hardly complain.

Today Mistress is working from home, on a project that requires concentration. Avoiding the distractions of her office should be positive, and I hope she and M get a chance for some therapy of their own during the course of the day. She will need the stress relief.

But I am devoting the heft of today’s blog to a very entertaining submission from Donna, our Southern Correspondent. She has been of great help to us here at the UCTMW media empire, picking up the fallen “sword” of our Western Correspondent, who is still rehabilitating that frozen cock. (I am tempted to refer to it as his “special occasion frock”, but that might get MissBehavior and some of our other followers with similar interests confused, so I won’t go there.) Taking time from knitting those protective “cock cozies” for our male staff, she’s shown what an excellent writer she is as well.

Our WC’s Tutorial on First Time Anal Sex, continues to generate clicks here at UCTMW, and this contribution from Donna makes an excellent reading companion. It could  be particularly helpful to Suzanne over at ALL Mine, should she lose her Super Bowl bet to Jay:

 
Considering your WC's lingering interest, experience and longing concerning anal sex, it doesn't take a visit to the local psychic to see long hours spent with butt plugs in your... future, probably for both of you. While Mick has written about your wonderful strap-on, hours spent in an up close and personal relationship with a butt plug can...alter the way one walks and talks if not done properly. The snip below is from an Australian blog I enjoy, “Down the Rabbit Hole”. I wish I had read a handy-dandy guide like this before doing my stubborn "I can take it" routine.

If this is repeat or old hat information for you, my apologies. However, better too much than not enough info when talking about delicate tissues.

From a purely psychological standpoint, it might be interesting to know about the potty training procedures of WC's mother. I would be among the first to raise my hand and say that anal sex is a wonderful thing. However, the enthusiasm of WC and the thumbs up approach of his brother lead me to wonder whether their mother had one of those expensive musical potty chairs or offered candy or cash for #2 accomplishments beginning a positive association with the human butt that has lasted through the years. Just wondering.

I know, I know, some friends send Hallmark greeting cards to show they care. I, on the other hand, have always leaned toward the more practical. I started to write a greeting card style poem to go with this info, but (husband) Bill said he thought perhaps you have suffered enough with the email alone. Sometimes he is more humorous than others.

Hugs,
Donna


http://deviantrabbit.blogspot.com/2011/01/long-term-butt-plug-wearing.html

Long term butt plug wearing

This is being posted because it is one of those things that people ask about frequently and this is an easier way of doing it... for one small slave at any rate. Some of this stuff is common knowledge and some of it is from trial and error so may not be universal. It is also worth mentioning that some of it is less than glamorous so you have been warned. Err... that means stop reading now if you are squeamish...

Selection:

·         Stainless steel is best for long term wear and there are plenty to choose from.

·         Be aware that as your body gets used to them you may need to select a larger size, particularly if you are doing this to make anal sex easier. As they are expensive you might want to give this some consideration before ordering that cute little one.

·         If you are wearing them 24/7 give some thought to the shape of your arse and the handle. The gems are pretty, but are wider than the Njoy.

Lube:

·         Don’t be shy; use it, particularly in the beginning

·         Get a good silicone based one rather than water. It lasts longer and doesn’t wash off so easily. “Back Door” by Pjur is the best one has found to date.

Time:

·         Be sensible... work up to it. Don’t just ram the thing in and hope for the best. Wear it for a short time and increase it.

·         If it hurts take it out and try again later

Gas:

·         Your body produces a lot of it and you don’t realise how much until it can’t get out easily.

·         If it builds up you will get cramps. Take it out for a while or wiggle it so the gas can escape.

·         As the body gets used to the plug it will learn how to work around it. As the swelling goes down it will get easier.

Enemas:

·         Are fun things to do but you don’t have to do a full one every time. It is much kinder to the body in the long run as continual enemas can strip out the natural lining of the bowel and you can get a lazy bowel... it stops contracting to expel.

·         Use a bulb type enema (rectal syringe) standing up to give a quick flush where you need it and cause less problems

Diet and exercise:

You thought you were safe didn’t you J

·         It is in your best interest to keep a good diet and exercise program with plenty of water. You want nice firm stools that come out cleanly rather than leaving a mess you have to clean up every time.

·         The best way to do this is make sure you eat plenty of fibre and drink plenty of water. Stay away from foods that upset your stomach... it is a kindness

Miscellaneous:

·         Do take the damn things out somewhere safe. If you drop one of them down a toilet they will crack the bowl.

·         They are heavy and slippery when removed and come out faster than you think...

·         Stainless steel can be washed easily and they can be sterilized... do it on a regular basis

·         They cannot fall in or out if they have a good base

·         If it is cold, warm it first under some hot water... it cuts down on cramping

·         The 2.0 is not for the faint-hearted or the novice... there are some issues with both the length of the handle which renders it hard to sit on, and that even with the fluting on the side venting gas is difficult.

Thanks for these good words of advice, Donna. And I know all our readers look forward to our WC’s response about his potty training days.

Now I better go up stairs and put on the ring for my cock cage. Since we will not be driving to work together today, it's in the cage for this Slave.

Three Strikes

I suspect this blog creates the impression that Molly and Mick are always chipper and upbeat. That we are relentlessly courteous to one another. That we live in a drama free zone where, like a kinky version of that mythical Minnesota Town, the cunts are always dripping, the dicks are never flacid, and the cock cages never get tarnished.

Hate to break the news, but even we can have a bad day here at UCTMW, one that requires a little energy and humility to overcome.

Our day started a bit too early yesterday morning. Both of us had early downtown meetings. And Mistress had been up the night before working on a project. So there was no sex to begin the day.

Strike one.

Then, in the car, as we game planned the rest of our too busy week, trying to figure out how to get Surly teen #1’s care serviced, get to the gym, make sure that a car was available for Surly teen #2’s dentist appointment, blah, blah, blah, Mistress got a little snappish:

“Don’t lecture me…..”

Strike two.

That quieted things down for the rest of the ride to work, as you might imagine.

I dropped Mistress at her meeting, then went to mine.

We did exchange mushy text messages from our meetings. Little peace feelers. And when Mistress called me on her walk back to her office, we seemed to be in a better space.

We also talked as she walked to and from a lunch engagement, at a posh downtown Club where all of the corporate lions of River City gather at noon time, to tut tut about our nation’s slow descent into socialism, as they export jobs and their bank accounts to warmer and more congenial climes.

No doubt he would be much admired in her black dress, with those lovely slits showing off those strong shapely legs in black tights and her over the knee boots. Very Tina Turner.

But it was around 3 pm that I got a rather snippy text from her:

“You never invited me over for worship today when I was walking around, Slave.”

Ooops. Strike 3.

“You seemed so busy, Mistress.”

“No excuse.”

At this point my initial instinct was to get defensive …. But I quickly realized that would put us back on a downward slope. Instead, I groveled.

“I deserve punishment, Mistress.”

“Yes, you do…. What if I come over now.”

“Excellent.”

Within about 5 minutes, she strode into my office. Looking hot. (I forgot to ask whether any of those corporate lions flirted with her…. Another demerit.)

“I can’t believe I had to ask for worship, Slave….. and here I am in my special tights.”

That was a surprise…. Usually I get advance notice, to remind me how to plan my day.

“Hmmmm…. Did you wear those for someone other than me, Mistress.”

“No…. but I probably should have.”

No further discussion was required. I pressed her “throne” up against the door, spread out the maroon blanket, and fell to my knees. With those peek-a-boo tights, Mistress was ready for action. No need to remove her boots.

“Take your time, Slave…. I’m taking a photo that I want to see posted on the blog.”

“Of course, Mistress.”

Suffice it to say that I did take my time, with Mistress’s legs over my shoulders, holding me firmly in place, as I proceeded to bring her to two robust little cums to break the chill.

Hopefully I had redeemed myself, but I suspected there might be further consequences for my poor attitude and negligent behavior. If any of you out there have any suggestions, I am sure Mistress would welcome them.

Later, at home, things were back to “normal”, which suggested that groveling was definitely my best path to redemption.

Mistress and I were sitting in bed, resting up a bit, checking your blogs on our laptops, before it was time to prepare dinner.

The WC had been texting Mistress, and I suggested that she ask him if he was going to respond to Suzanne’s comment, requesting that he describe his first use of the “diaper position.”

The WC, who apparently does not want to get all that lube residue on his computer keyboard, quickly responded.

“He says he is going to dictate the story to his Slave Molly, while she wears that buttefly vibrator, Slave…. What do you think of that….”

“I think you would probably like that, Mistress….”

“Yes, Slave…. I probably would.”

By the time the teens were fed, and we were done watching #POTUS do his #SOTU (too much tweeting last night!), there was still time for some hanky panky. And I was fortunate that Mistress was in a forgiving mood.

“Are you finally ready to fuck me now, Slave…”

“I am fortunate that you are allowing it after my misbehavior today, Mistress….”

“Yes, you are a very lucky, Slave.”

Amen.

Mistress's Switch Day Bonus

Molly and Mick had a busy day here in River City, and Molly is working even as I type this on Monday evening, editing a proposal that was rather poorly drafted by some of her less than conscientious colleagues.

Poor Mistress. She has every right to be a little cranky. Toleration of fools is not a strong point for her.

Then it’s an early rise for us for some command performances at 8 am. That explains why you will be able to read tomorrow’s blog tonight.

We left off this morning with Mistress’s difficult choice: braving the cruel clothes pins in order to enjoy a soothing orgasm after all that Switch Day teasing.

But she might have made a different choice if she knew what was in store for her later that afternoon.

She had taken Surly teen #2 to the movies, while I visited my cantankerous Mother. We both found ourselves back at home again around 4:30 pm. When Mistress walked in, I was in guy heaven: watching the NFL playoff game and reading the Times. Mistress joined me on the couch in my “man cave”, but within a few minutes, her text message chime went off.

“It’s M, Slave. He wants to know if I am available to talk.”

“Of course you are, Mistress. I don’t think either the Bears or the Packers will notice that you have lost interest.”



Mistress was clearly excited to get the call from our Western Correspondent, and quickly adjourned to our bedroom. And as I became engrossed in the Bears comeback attempt, ultimately frustrated by a very large dude’s unlikely interception for a TD, I probably lost track of time, and her.

But about 40 minutes later, there she was, a bit flushed, a wicked smile on her face, sliding down next to me as the game neared it’s end.

“Did you miss me, Slave….”

“Of course, Mistress …. but it looks like you had some fun….”

“I did Slave….”

“How many, Mistress?”

“Two, Slave…. Just two.”

“And the WC, Mistress…. Did he get off too?”

“No…. he said he took care of himself earlier, because he wasn’t sure I would get back to him in time….”

“Sounds like that special occasion cock is on the mend….”

“So it seems, Slave….”

Good to know. I guess I can call off that private eye who was commissioned to photograph him in compromising positions to rebut that bogus workers' comp claim.

In fact, Our readers should know that the Western Correspondent was happy to see that old story from his private email last winter reconstituted in our Sunday morning blog. I suppose it takes a bit of pressure off his productivity expectations during that lengthy rehabilitation. So here is another story from his old emails to us, describing his further adventures in his ski instructor days:


"I had one experience with cuckolding from the male dom side that I thought you guys might enjoy. I had a doctor named Mike from LA in one of my ski classes. I was having dinner with him and his wife L one night, and she was really flirting with me. After dinner he excused himself and went to bed. L and I ended up in the disco pretty drunk and making out in the corner. We ended up in my room fucking for hours. She was a very lusty lady and very good looking. She was also submissive. I asked her what her husband was going to think of her coming back to there room at 4 in the morning. She said "oh. my husband knows me".

Anyway this started a thing between us that lasted about 3 years. She would spend 4 or 5 weeks a year at club med, usually without her husband. I would sometimes meet her at a resort in the summer and spend the week with her.

I remember one time in particular that I thought you guys might find fodder for a fantasy. I was dancing with L in the disco and I was grabbing the back of her hair and making her look right in my eyes while I looked intently at her and told her about the things I was going to do to her. With my other hand I was grabbing her breast and pinching her nipple hard. I could tell she was very excited and kept asking her how wet she was. She kept telling me she was soaking wet.

The disco was in the basement, as was the make up/dressing room for the nightly shows. This room had no lock and there was a very real possibility that someone might come in even late at night. Several people actually worked in that room, the professional actors and dancers and the make up and costume people. I took her in there and pulled her blouse and bra up over her tits. I started pinching both her nipples hard while kissing her. I remember my cock was rock hard and standing straight up, the way a 26 year old cock can do.

I pulled her pants all the way down to her ankles and pushed two then three fingers up her soaking vagina. I then rubbed her clit and she came very hard. The I pushed her down to her knees and shoved my cock in her mouth. As she was sucking my cock I told her that I was going to whip her ass with my belt. I had her turn around and lean over a dressing table and grab the other side. I took off my belt and doubled it up and really laid into her ass. She had bright red stripes across her ass, doing that made my dick even harder. I then pulled her ass apart so I could look at her asshole and pussy. I remember telling her that she was lucky I didn't have any lube or I would fuck her in the ass. Anyway I started fucking her and she came and came, as did I. We then pulled up our pants and went right back in the disco. I remember her telling me that she was sitting in a puddle as we had another drink. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the story as much as we have enjoyed your stories, and I hope that it did provide some fodder for your fantasies.

Yours truly,

M

Mistress' Dilemma

Sometimes Switch Day will start in one direction, and take an unanticipated turn  on our Sundays here at the Collins’ household.

For example … yesterday surly teen #2 was lurking about, stomping around the upstairs hallway, making her presence heard. That tends to put a damper on things that go on beyond our closed doors. So I had aborted any plans for a good stern cropping, the kind that would make little cracking on the ass sounds, or generate uncontainable whines or moans from Mistress.

Plan B was a bit more conventional. Tie Mistress to the bed, hands overhead, a bit of low key spanking, deployment of the Hitachi, etc., etc. A good time would be had by all.

We got that far: Mistress on her stomach, hands bound over head, ass a little pink, and me with the Hitachi in hand, slid between her legs from behind. Just like that, Mistress was already asking for permission to come. (Of course, permission is always required.)

That’s when I changed directions.

“No…. not yet.”

“But Slave….”

Her piteous moan was soooo sad.

I pulled the Hitachi back running it along her inner thighs, making her squirm, but turning down the level of need at her little “on/off” button.

She ratcheted down a bit, from DevCon 5 to 3 or so. The Hitachi went back where she liked it for a while. But when she asked permission again, I was still saying “No.”

Too easy.

I switched it off, putting it aside.

“Roll over, Mistress….”

She looked up, oozing petulance.

What are you doing, Slave….”

“I thought I might fuck you for a while, as I consider when and whether to let you come…..”

She rolled. I mounted. She wiggled a little, amused by my struggle to find the entry point without her help. But, surprise, surprise, it did not take long…..soon I was slowly sliding in and out of her, while gently gnawing on a nipple.

“But this is against our code, Slave.  I always get to come before you fuck me. …Always.”

“That’s what Switch Days are for, Mistress…. To do things out of order, against code….”

Of course, I was in no urgent need to come, just toying with her…. And after a bit more fucking I slid out, and this is where the improvisation began.

“How badly do you want to come this morning, Mistress…. I mean we could just wait until later. I could get off, and maybe later things could go your way….”

“Uhhh…. Badly Slave….”

“Then how about this…. You can come if you ask me to  put the clothespins on your breasts…. But if they are something too painful to think about, then I can just tease you a bit more before we go to the gym…. Your choice.”

She tried to bargain.

“But they hurt slave… they really hurt…. And I know you like to see me come, don’t you?”

“Of course I do. I live to make you come. But, all things considered, I can wait until later for that wonderful experience if you want…. It’s your call….”

I was running my fingers teasingly through her cleanly shaven folds, marveling at how wet she was, enjoying the thrust of her hips as she rose to meet my hand.

“This is mean, Slave…”

“But I’m just giving you a choice, Mistress.  Choices are good, aren’t they. “School Choice.” “The right to choose.” That’s all good, isn’t it?”

My lips had found her left nipple, teasing it to life.

“I mean, how much can those little clothes pins really hurt…. And I know it won’t take you that long to come once they are on and I deploy the power tool.”

She seemed more than a little frustrated now, her hips lifting against my roving fingers.

“Put them on Slave….”

“Say please…. “

“Please, Slave…..”

“Why do you want them on, Mistress. They are going to hurt….”

“Because I want to come, Slave…. I really want to come…. “

“Impressive, Mistress…. You really are asking me to put this pins on your breasts?

I was brandishing one, opening it up for her…..

“Just get it over with, Slave…..”

“Of course, Mistress, if that’s what you really want.”

I used some lip suction to make sure her rosey little nipples were nice and firm before squeezing the clips, and letting their greedy little pincers  capture first her left nipple then her right. Mistress winced, her eyes snapped tight as each nipple was contained.

Impressive discipline. No whining. She must have been horny or something.

And true to my word, I did get on with it. Switching on the power tool, and pressing it home, just where Mistress likes it. And would you be surprised if I told you that she soon was bucking up against it, her breath  ragged.

“Can I come now, Slave…..” she moaned through clenched teeth.

“Of course, Mistress.”

She rode that churning tool through one orgasm, came down, and rode it back up through another, as her hips came up off the bed, back arching for purchase against that little bulb.  As she hit that second climax, I took off one and then the other clothes pin, making her moan again as the blood flowed back into those tender tlittle orbs.

“Enough Slave… please turn it off.”

“Of course, Mistress. “

And then it was my turn to slide in and enjoy the ride…..

Caught Sticky Fingered

Yesterday was not unlike a typical winter Saturday here at the UCTMW World HQ in River City. Slave was up early, preparing our daily edition, then, when paged by our Publisher, I shared it with her. She languished in bed, legs spread, as I lavished her with worship, then allowed me to fuck her as recognition for a job suitably done.

Then we were off our separate ways. Mistress took sullen teen number 2 on a series of errands, including some nail maintenance and a trip to the grocery. I picked up my ever so cute grandson for a trip to our local farmers market, then back to our house for some book reading and play.

Mistress returned home with groceries not long before I was off to return the grandson home for his nap time, and as I was leaving she was preparing her self a lunch with some egg salad purchased at our local Bagel Emporium.

But when I returned to the house about 45 minutes later things were unusually …. Quiet. The kitchen was deserted, and Mistress’s egg salad luncheon was sitting at her place on our kitchen counter, half eaten.

Hmmmm …. A case of Alien abduction?

Possible, but unlikely…..

I crept upstairs, noting at the landing that our bedroom door was closed.


Hmmmmm ….. I could be discrete, and text Mistress to see if it was OK to disturb her. But sometimes this Slave cannot suppress his playful miscreant side. (Well, actually more often than not I have that sort of suppression problem.) I was willing to risk a good cropping to discover what I expected to find on the other side of the door.

So I popped the door open.

Sure enough, there was Mistress, splayed across the bed, her jeans open, zipper down, exposing that sweet lacy violet thong.

And Mistress had the phone pressed against her ear, a cat who ate the canary smirk across her face.

“M, guess who just arrived….. Yes, it’s the Slave….. M says ‘hi’ Slave…..”

I raised an eyebrow, looking down on my Mistress, who was clearly having a little post-phone-orgasm chit chat with our Western Correspondent.

“But where’s the Hitachi, Mistress?”

“Back under the bed, Slave….”

Soon Mistress was signing off. And we were heading off to our gym for an afternoon workout. On the way, Mistress explained her afternoon diversion….

“Hope you didn’t mind discovering me that way Slave…. But M texted while I was eating lunch, and …. Well, one thing just led to another….”

“Of course I didn’t mind…. After all, you were just exploiting your contractual rights… use them or lose them, as they say….”

“Yes, I was….”

“And did M get off too?”

“Yes, he was home alone for a while, lying on his bed….”

I know Mistress particularly enjoys those moments of mutual fulfillment.

“Good to hear that his equipment is beginning to function up to standards after that shocking injury this week, Mistress.”

“Yes, he does seem to be coming along….”

Later, back from the gym, it was our nap time, then more sex for us both. We “picnicked” at home, then went to a local bar for a few drinks and some music. And somehow the subject turned back to how M first introduced himself to the Collins’ clan.

“It was December 25, more than a year ago Slave…..”

“Remember all the kinky stories he would send us….”

“Yes, we were talking about that…. Stories about his days as a ski instructor, and his girlfriend L, she was married, about 10 years older than him….”

Well since our Western Correspondent has been even less productive than normal due to his cock rehabilitation leave, this morning I trolled through our old emails to find this gem, sent months before Mistress and M developed their special relationship. Enjoy.

In the meantime, Slave needs to focus on our Switch Day Plans.

On busy weeks like Christmas or Spring Break we would have to move in with another ski instructor so they could sell our rooms. L and her husband were there at Christmas and Eric (another instructor) had moved into my room.

Eric was of Viking decent and a very good looking blonde guy. He was a bigger dog than me, a real ladies’ man. He was into kinky shit too. His dad was a doctor and Eric had a real steel speculum he used to use on the ladies. He lent it to me sometimes but that’s another story!

Anyway, L 's husband was there so we couldn't use her room, and she asked what we were going to do. I said Eric would get out when I asked him to, or maybe I would let him watch us fuck. I could tell that turned her on but she said we couldn't do that. I made no comment.

So I told Eric to leave us alone and we went up to the room, got naked and started fucking. One of the fantasies I used to tell her to make her cum was that I would make her get naked on the bed on her knees and elbows with her legs spread wide open. I would tell her that way anyone who came in the room could see her asshole and pussy and that both holes would be right there ready for them to use. Then I told her I would let the French ski instructors come in and fuck her for $20.00, $40.00 if they wanted to fuck her in the ass. I would tell her this fantasy as I fucked her and she would always cum hard.

On this day, I changed the fantasy and told her I would let Eric come in and fuck her for $20.00. If possible, she came and came and came even harder.

Afterword we were talking and I said “let’s do it, I will sell your ass to Eric just like our fantasy”. I started rubbing her clit and trying to talk her into it. She started cumming and cumming as we talked about the fantasy. We came to an agreement that she would do it, but he had to wear a condom and would fuck her pussy, not her ass. I agreed, but added that I would whip her ass hard with the belt before he fucked her, and after I would fuck her ass. I just told her that and she came again. She was very nervous about the whole thing, but ready to go. She thought Eric was good looking but thought he was arrogant. Actually that was true, but he was a nice guy.

We set it up for a couple days later. Eric agreed not to come to the room after skiing until 5 PM. I told L to come to the room right after skiing. When she got there she was still in her ski clothes and I told her to strip naked. She did and lay down next to me. I started rubbing her clit and telling her what was going to happen. She was so turned on she was shaking. I just kept edging her. Her pussy was soaked and my fingers slipped in effortlessly. I had her get up on all fours. I took the belt and doubled it over and started to whip her ass really hard. When she was turned on she could take a real hard strapping and it turned her on like nothing else. When I was done I told her to spread he knees wide open and put her elbows on the bed and arch her back.

She was waiting there naked in the most lewd position. It looked hot. I continued to rub her pussy and she was still shaking. When the door opened she actually jumped. I told her to close her eyes and keep them closed. Eric walked in and said "oh it looks like you have been a naughty girl." Then he shoved 3 fingers in her and said " I can't believe how wet she is".

Eric started rubbing her clit, and she came HARD right away. He was still dressed in his ski uniform and he just pulled down his pants and I handed him a condom which he put on. Then he got behind her and just jammed his cock in her in one thrust. She let out a howl and started cumming again and again. He came pretty fast too, and then I nodded to him to leave. He left and she started saying over and over again "I can't believe we just fucking did that" and "that was so fucking hot".

Then I took of my clothes and got behind her with some lube. I lubed up her asshole and my cock and gently pushed it in. Once she got used to it I fucked her hard right up her bottom. She kept coming and so did I. The whole thing was crazy hot, but she was a little embarrassed when she saw Eric later at dinner. Hope you enjoy the story."

I note that our email response to this story said, in part, "Molly thought this story was pretty hot". Obviously, M planted the seeds for what has become an intriguing relationship by sharing these moments from his past in those early emails. In a way, he was already auditioning for what was to become role here at UCTMW.

He is a crafty, if malingering Correspondent, isn't he?

Mistress Flies Solo

First, thanks to UCTMW’s  southern photo-correspondent and seamstress, Donna, for this contribution. Her generous offer to prepare a cock cozy to aid the rehabilitation of our Western Correspondent following his bout of cock-bite has been greatly appreciated.  Now she’s found the perfect accessory for Mistress to try out on the WC’s special occasion cock,  once rehabilitation is completed.

After we got our 6 inches of snow Thursday, the thermometer plummeted, so Molly and Mick has a very cold Friday here in River City, with temperatures in the single digits last night.  And unlike some people, we did not use it as an excuse for a late night bike ride.

We did try to generate some heat in our own way though. There was some vigorous morning sex, after Mistress chortled through my morning’s effort.

“I’ve already told him that I am happy to come inspect and help him nurse that frozen cock to life, Slave… what more can we do?”

Then Mistress stopped by my office for some post-lunch worship.  

Yum.

WE met some friends for dinner after work, slogging through one of our more charming urban neighborhoods, through hard packed snow and a little slush.  By the time we were back in the car and headed home, it was fairly late, we were very cold, and I was feeling the relaxing buzz of a Jamieson, neat.

“Will you be in the mood to fuck me tonight, Slave….”

Hmmmm. I was making no commitments. Just looking forward to sliding into a warm bed and cozying up to Mistress.

Then her text message chimed. It was our WC. 

“He’s still talking about his need for rehabilitation, Slave….”

“Doesn’t he know a good ambulance chaser….”

“and how mean a General Counsel you are….”

Awww. Poor M.

“I’m reminding him of my offer to come inspect…. Nurse him back to health.”

“Nothing like a hands on CEO, Mistress….”

“And I’m also telling him that Slave isn’t sure he wants to fuck me tonight.”

Ahhh. The gauntlet is thrown down. What is a slave to do?

At home we prepare for bed, after fending off complaints from a surly teen about our nerve in entering her room to bid her goodnight.

Mistress is naked, soft and warm. And she is sharing a few more messages with M before signing off for the night.

As I get cozier with her, my thoughts turn to more carnal subjects, and I am about to reach for one of Mistress’s more responsive zones when she throws the curve ball.

“Hand me the Hitachi, Slave….”

Ohhh?

“I’m happy to handle those duties myself, Mistress….”

“No…. I’m in charge here, and I will be happy to handle it all by myself.”

Oh my…. I wonder if I am about to become redundant.

But I dutifully turn over the power tool, switching it on for her.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to do the honors, Mistress?”

“No Slave….. I’m going to do it the way B (M’s wife) does…. Feel free to watch, and learn…..”

So I cuddle in tight, kissing her deeply as her hand works away under the covers, the buzz of the machine dampened a bit by the warm comforter that shrouds us.

At some point she reaches for my cock, which is already filling out. Apparently it had not gotten the message  that it was not needed, at least not yet.

With remarkable efficiency, Mistress soon brought herself up and over the edge, quaking and sobbing in a remarkably robust climax.

And by now her Slave was definitely in the mood to participate.

“You can put this away now Slave….. and then you can fuck me….”

“Happily, Mistress.”