Cage Week

I woke up this morning to see WC’s comment left rather late our time, not so late in his time zone, commenting on the picture yesterday of Mistress’s lovely bottom.  A “New favorite pic” for the WC.

And we are certainly glad to please him and Mistress’s other fans out there. I suspect Mistress will be flattered when she sees that comment, and likely go back and look at the picture again, to get a better appreciation of what her “personal trainer” finds so alluring.

Mistress does enjoy knowing that her body can still turn heads and draw eyes of appreciation and lust.

In our vanilla life, Mistress posts lots of less explicit family pictures on facebook, and we do have a few select friends from the blog world who have linked up with us in facebook land. Over the weekend, the WC finally embarked into that corner of our lives, and opened up a rather Spartan facebook page so he could “friend” Mistress. Slave too.

“Wonder why M finally decided to find us on Facebook, Slave?”

“Hmmm…. Maybe so he could check out E …. The guy who still wants to put you over his knee, Mistress?”

Sure enough. That was one of the first of Mistress’s friends that M scoped out.

Gotta’ know the ‘competition’. And Mistress was also scoping out M’s only other friend at the time, a woman that she has discussed with M – a long lost fuck and ski buddy who no doubt would like to get a reunion with the special occasion cock.

Sounds as if these comparisons made for some amusing discussions between M and Mistress over the weekend. 

Competition, or the perception of it, is good, isn’t it?  Keeps the juices flowing.

Here in River City, we had one of those rare three  day weekends, when the agenda was rather empty. No effort to fit in some trip to another town, or too many family gatherings. Yesterday was the bonus day, with lots of time in bed, and some minimal yard work for me to do.

We both slept in a little later than normal. I woke to write the blog, then came upstairs at around 8:30 to present it to Mistress.  She took her time reading as I grazed below. It was a long entry, and then she cruised through some of your other blogs. She made sure that I made up for all that tease and denial before she allowed me to take my own pleasure, with permission of course.

Then it was a long, double cycle bike ride that worked up a sweat in the early summer humidity.

We have a graduation party coming up here in about 2 weeks, and Mistress had some directions for me.

“Slave could you trim the bushes in the front of the house…. They’re looking a little wild, and we do have company coming….”

“absolutely, Mistress….”

“I mean if I have to keep my cunt clean shaven, you can at least keep the landscaping under control….”

“I see your point, Mistress….”

After my yard work, we went to our local pool for a while, but the screaming kids and frumpy house fraus ultimately overpowered us, and we headed home early.

Mistress got a little bonus O in the shower, to make up for the one I had denied her yesterday. And then there was some reading and a nap before feeding the kids.

Very laid back day.

We took a walk after dinner, and reluctantly discussed our schedules for the coming week. To my chagrin, I discovered that it will be one of those weeks when we need to drive separately every day.

“So I guess that means I need to wear the cage every day, Mistress?”

“Sounds like it Slave…. sorry…. But it really is for the best.”

Argh.

I already have that hard steel ring on. And in a few minutes I will go wake Mistress….

At least she gets the benefit of that extra hard cock today, and for the rest of the week too.

Justice Done

You will happy to learn that Mistress has paid her debt to society, fully satisfying the terms of the sentence laid down by our “Judge”, the WC. I suspect she will think twice before removing clothespins without permission again, that is, unless she actually enjoyed a day of teasing attention, frustration, but ultimate satisfaction from her devoted Slave, who’s task it was to execute the “remedy” imposed be the WC’s belated decree.

It was a long day, with lots of juicy details. But I know you at least want to hear the highlights, and some of the whining and wheedling that accompanied it. Keep in mind that the “order” provided for at least 10 rounds of tease and denial, and that Mistress would not be permitted an orgasm until 4 pm. That said, let me count them down for you:

10. It was around 8 am. Slave brought up the papers, and we read a bit, touching in our conversation about her “sentence”, and what it might entail

“You aren’t really going to do this, are you, Slave?”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world….”

“Meanie.”

Then I presented Mistress with the laptop to read the blog, and nested between her squirmy thighs, lapping and sucking to my heart’s content.

“I’m trying not to pay attention, Slave….”

But when the squirms and her breathing seem to shift to that tell tale rhythm that tells a cum is close, Slave backed off.

“ohhhh….. damn.”

9. The laptop set aside, I pulled out those red leather cuffs, using little pad locks to secure them. Then Mistress was rolled over, onto her stomach and the cuffs were fastened together, right above that lovely smooth rump. That’s when I deployed the Hitachi for the first time of the day, sliding it between those thighs from behind. It was fun to watch her hump the bed in frustration, little beeds of sweat popping out on her lower back, the aroma of her arousal filling the room.

“Don’t you dare cum, Mistress…..”

But I did her a favor and switched the hitachi off just when I knew she was getting to that point of no return again.

“That’s two, Mistress.”

“How will I ever make it to ten…..”

8. Now she’s on her back, arms fixed spread eagled above her head, to corners of the bed. The tools are our crystal cock and my tongue. The Hitachi is really too easy at this point. Getting her close to the edge on only seconds it seemed. This way I build her slow and incendiary, with gentle flicks of my tongue, and the suctioning of her clit between my lips and teeth, as the ribbed glass cock slowly moves in, put and around probing for that little spot that could send her over the edge…..

“Ahhhh…. You better ….stop if you want …..me to last… Slave….”

I gave her a few last licks with the very tip fo my tongue as her hips arched out of the bed…. then let her rest a bit.

7-5. She’s still bound, arms extended. By now my needs were becoming more pronounced. The “order” had provided me the chance to take whatever whenever, so I figured this was as good a time as any, since mistress was so “available”.

As I slowly fucked her, Mistress and I discussed the rules…

“So what counts as one, Slave… “

“I think getting so very close, then an appropriate, ‘cool down’ period, before getting you close again….”

“well then this should count as 4 , 5 and 6, Slave.”

“That seems too easy, Mistress….”

But as I built her up so close with my thrusts and my fingers between her splayed thighs, 1, 2 then 3 times, before taking my own pleasure, I agreed she was right …. That long bout of fucking should count as three.

4. I let Mistress relax a bit, sipping my coffee as she writhed a bit longer in frustration. Then I went back to work between her thighs, just with my lips and tongue this time.

“My you are wet, Mistress….”

“Maybe that’s because you just came there, Slave….”

“Ahhh…. That’s right…. This is the type of treat that Tammy gets over at All Mine all the time, Mistress…. But it’s not his own cum.”

“That’s what you deserve, Slave….”

But soon she was just moaning, and squirming, and then indicating that I had better stop before it was too late….

“Of course, Mistress… thanks for the tip.”

3. With Slave’s base needs met, I figured it was time for a little rest for both of us. I unfastened Mistress, then got her some ice tea and me some OJ downstairs. We actually had some vanilla plans to take care of…. Mistress to do some grocery shopping and me to collect my cute grandson for some play and swimming time.

“So you’re really going to make me wait until this afternoon, Slave.”

“Of course, Mistress…. And remember no cheating, can I trust you, or are you going to go to the hitachi the moment I leave?”

She gave me her word, as she fondled her I-phone….

“I’m texting M, telling him that he’s scum.”

Not long after, the chime of her phone went off.

“He says ‘that’s a strong word, Molly….”

She was standing now, in a sun dress, I pulled her close to me my hand dipping under the hem, feeling for that soft smushy part between her thighs, and my finger went to work, sliding between those soft folds.

She began to stiffen, her head buried against my shoulder when I stopped.

“That was fast, Mistress….”

“I’m getting desperate, Slave…. what do you expect….”

2. I was off to collect my grandson, and she and the sullen teen #2 were off to the grocery. We met up again back at the house, to change into our swim costumes for a few hours at our local pool. As I played in the water with the cute one, Mistress was lounging in the sun, reading the Times, and deploying her I-phone.

“M wanted an update…. Then he said he was going to go take care of himself and think of me all frustrated here….”

“Those are good thoughts, Mistress….”

It wasn’t until around 3:50 pm that we got home. And Mistress even agreed to defer our bike ride, to solve her growing “problem”. Now that says something about how horny she must have been. When I came up to our room, Mistress was in the shower, and I quickly shed my suit and t-shirt to join her. She was all wet and soapy when I pulled her back to me, using one hand to fondle her lush breasts while the other groped between her thighs, sliding to and fro until her body stiffened….

“Close, Slave….very close…”

1.When we emerged from the shower, it was a little after 4…. And Mistress had a text from M waiting for her.

“He says it’s after 4…. Where are we?”

Now here’s a judge who monitors outcomes very closely.

“Tell him were going into extra innings, Mistress.”

I had thought of using the Hitachi one more time on her, but figured that would be a little too quick and dangerous. So I pulled out the crystal cock and began rubbing its length and ridges between her thighs, slowly, making her squirm as I kissed and cuddled against her. Mistress was squirming as I then lowered my head to those molten lips and began to gently suction her between my lips…. That’s when her hips jerked with sudden vigor…..

I stopped….

“What was that?”

It sure seemed like the first little wave of an orgasm to me….

“I was close but…..”

“We need to figure out what to do next Mistress…. We may have to start all over again….”

“No… we can’t….”

Mistress’s frustration was palpable.

“Let’s get M on the phone for a little sidebar conference on how to resolve this problem…”

I dialed him up, finding our “Judge” in Costco. No doubt he was looking for one of those 50 gallon drums of lubricant he relies on to get him through a few weeks of special occasion cock maintenance.

I calmly explained what I had witnessed, and Mistress was also handed the phone, to share her remorseful defense. To me it sounded a bit like “the dog ate my homework”, but I suspect M felt that she had already “suffered” enough. So rather than starting from ‘one’, his Solomon-esque remedy, delivered from the vegetable aisle at Costco, was one additional round of tease and denial.

Fair enough.

In fact, as Mistress finished up the call, I had already begun lapping and sucking on her, without any additional tools.

Suffice it to say that by the time she hung up with M, she was well on her way to completing that final “bonus” round.

I then explained to Mistress that her remedy had been fully administered, and asked whether she wanted to experience the fruits of her sacrifice then and there or wait until after dinner.

“I’m sure the ordeal has taken it’s toll, Mistress.”

Are you surprised that she wanted to proceed immediately?

I figured she was due the full treatment by now, so as she spread her legs for me, the Hitachi was deployed, and the frustrated Molly took full advantage of it. Liberated from the ban on cumming, she laid back and allowed me to build her up to a full fandango of gyrating, moaning and throwing herself off the cliff, until she begged me to turn it off.

By now, Slave was more than ready to show her a good time with my work-a-day cock, and it seemed that Mistress had at least two more orgasms as we went at one another with unrestrained gusto.

So, WC, thanks for your impartial and reasoned deliberations, and your fair and balanced order. You may have a future as one of those TV Judges, let’s call it “Kinky Kourt”.

Mistress gets a few in under the wire.

Slave is going to skip over Saturday morning sex…. I don’t want to bore you with too many details today, particularly since Mistress needs to be woken a little earlier than normal to give us proper time to impose the WC’s sentence – 10 rounds of teasing without orgasm -before our vanilla daily schedule kicks in.

So lets pick things up at around 5 pm – after a day of yard work, sunning with the Times (yes, the sun finally came out in River City), and a brisk double loop bike ride in the early summer heat.

Slave was stepping out of the shower…..

“Time to get my equipment out Slave…. you are long overdue for an ass fucking….”

True, it had been awhile. Not since Mistress’s trip to Eastern Europe. That might account for Slave’s occasional lapses into Mr. bossy pants the last few weeks.

“Will do…..”

I gathered up the components of her kit: leather harness; dildo; lube. Then I settled into bed as she took care of a few items.

She’d been texting with the WC… no doubt whining a bit about the “harsh” sentence he had imposed. Mistress does not like teasing and denial, though, you have to admit, darling, its far better than those clothespins… right?

The WC was firm but compassionate.  And no doubt his “sword” of justice will get put to use in his home venue this weekend.

She typed a few more characters, then put down her I-phone.

“I just told M that it’s time to fuck my slave in the ass….”

“I’ll bet he wishes he was on the receiving end, Mistress….”

“I think he might have something else in mind, Slave….”

By now, Mistress had her harness on, the mid-sized dildo in place. She looked very “commanding”, her lovely breasts hanging loose. She coated her tool with some lube and settled into bed next to me….she likes to fondle and kiss a while, making sure my work-a-day cock is already randy even before she begins her assault.

When she was satisfied, and a little randy herself, she rose up.

“Get in position, Slave….”

I did, fitting a pillow under my hips, raising my ass just a bit….then Mistress took over.

Though a few weeks had passed, Mistress’s aim was on the mark. She filled me with her first smooth thrust of her hips. The penetration had Slave quickly into his own little sub-space.

And despite the long bike ride, Mistress seemed particularly energized yesterday afternoon. Her thrusts were firm, swift, and rather effective….It wasn’t long before she was spasming against me, with a rather dramatic, moaning  climax from her exertions.

By now my ass was getting a little tender, and I let it be known that she should feel free to stop at her convenience. (I have a feeling I may hear about that later). She seemed spent herself, so told me to go insert my device and then return to the bed to fuck her properly.

“Of course, Mistress….”

Slave’s attitude properly adjusted, I found my aneros, and used it to replace Mistress’s own “cock”, before returning to the bed to take my own pleasure.

The ultimate result, I must say was impressive….one of those cums that came in a series of waves that seemed to last forever….

It appears that Mistress and Slave do have their rhythm back.

We rested a bit, then ended up watching a movie here… the Pianist, the Polanski film set in Warsaw during WW II. Mistress pointed out sights she had visited only weeks ago.

When we retired to our chambers, I expected we’d be reading a bit before shut-eye. And that’s how things started. But after about 20 minutes or so, Slave had one unexpected request.

“Slave…. I think I may need my Hitachi tonight…”

“Worried that it might be awhile before your next cum, Mistress?”

I was teasing of course. Earlier I had suggested we might want to get a head start on tease and denial, but she was having none of it.

“It’s not Sunday yet, Slave.”

And I knew it would be so very wrong to argue with Mistress.

So I reached under the bed for her trusty Hitachi. Soon she was laying back, that tie-dye nightie pooled at her belly button, as I guided the churning white bulb between those firm thighs.

That sucker does have a rather profound effect, reducing Mistress to a panting, moaning, vibrating little slut in no time.

Of course, she had a rather profound orgasm, in just a few minutes time. And she offered to return the favor.

I demurred. I figured it best to save my energy and juices for this morning’s execution of the WC’s sentence.

The WC Enters Judgment in the Case of Mick vs. Molly

Aisha, you will be happy to know that Molly and Mick restored the natural order of things yesterday: it was back to our usual two-a-day rhythm. I know you were concerned that maybe we have lost a step. Hopefully with a three day weekend ahead of us, Slave can work his back into shape. With the NFL season in apparent jeopardy, this may be all the entertainment we get this summer and fall.

Morning sex was a little brisk, if only because Slave had been in abstinence mode for all of 24 hours. After the blogging was done – with a big assist from our Science Correspondent – I made sure there was plenty of time to worship and then take my own pleasure from my beloved Mistress, who was still snoozing when I climbed the stairs.

She decided to stay home a little later than me – not for a date with the WC, but to get those lovely nails attended to before the holiday weekend – so she reminded me of my duty.

“I think it’s a cage day for you, Slave….”

I guess I was hoping to slip that through, but dutifully got out my apparatus, did the schmushing of balls and cock through the tight ring, and presented the open lock to Mistress to shut me down for the day.

“Good, Slave….now I know you won’t be getting into any trouble.”

No doubt.

Both of us had busy days, so there was no stop-by for worship. But when I got home, that was a different story.

The Sullen teens were there at the garage door, waiting for me. Not to greet their beloved father, but to demand the car keys, with that “what tok you so long” look on their faces.

“We’re going to the mall….”

And I must say I was not too disappointed to learn they would be gone for a while. I waited for Mistress in her “Executive Suite”, and soon she was home too. We aborted plans for a bike ride. Why miss this empty nest window of opportunity?

Mistress made sure she was suitably worshipped before she reached for the key to unlock my cage. I mean, what better way to assure a job well done. She had even been kind enough to toss a pillow on the floor to accommodate my ancient knees.

But then she had some other plans for me.

“Just stand there Slave, while I play with my cock”.

So there I was standing by the side of the bed, as she leaned in, her warm lips and tongue stroking and sucking at my only recently liberated equipment, until I was fidgeting a bit, begging for the chance to fuck her.

“So impatient Slave…. don’t you like this….”

“Ohhh…. I like it Mistress…..very much”

My cock was full, dripping no doubt. But she was in no hurry. She seemed to savor the taste.

Those recently manicured nails were dragging soft tracks along my balls, as my cock filled her mouth.

Argh.

“I like it when I make you squirm, Slave.”

“ So glad it pleases you Mistress.”

But soon – thankfully - she relented, allowing me to join her in bed.

By now I was a little disoriented. I think I’d forgotten that she had already been pleasured with my tongue and lips, so I settled between her legs for worship, part deaux. She didn’t bother to stop her devoted Slave.

But after she’d come again, she did give me permission to fuck her, and I made sure I used the opportunity to full measure.

It wasn’t until after we had rested a bit that I brought up the topic of today’s headline. The “remedy” that His Honor, the WC had imposed after two weeks of deliberations.

It has been a while since Mistress breached her contractual Switch Day obligations, by removing those nasty clothespins without permission. We were getting close to that “justice delayed is justice denied” tipping point. Part of the delay was my fault, since I was gone last Sunday morning. But I think the WC was enjoying his role as the impartial “decider” in this case that he took his own damn time to draft a decision. Plus he needed to get the official tattoo.

So here it is, hot off the presses back in his high mountain court house, where the black robes are worn “commando”, and need to be dry cleaned frequently to remove those unsightly semen stains:

ORDER RE:

REMEDY FOR BREACH OF CONTRACT

THE COURT, being fully advised, and after carefully weighing all the evidence, case law and statutes cited by the parties:

Hereby rules as follows:

The Court has previously held that the Defendant Molly Collins was in flagrant violation of the contract she freely entered into with the Plaintiff Mick Collins. The court also ruled that she was guilty of gloating about the fact that she put one over on the Plaintiff.

The Plaintiff, has asked this Court to fashion a remedy in Equity, for the breach of contract. Both parties agree the contract did not contain a remedy for such a flagrant breach. This Court, as a Court of both Law and Equity, having proper authority, hereby makes the following findings of fact.

1) The Defendant, Molly Collins did without permission remove the clothes pins from her nipples on switch day.

2) The Defendant did gloat about the fact that she removed the pins to the Western Correspondent.

3) The Court finds that the Defendant is as CRAFTY AS THEY COME and is prone to WHINING and WHEEDLING.

The Court in HIS infinite wisdom crafts the following remedy:

This Sunday the 29th day of May in the year 2011,

The Plaintiff, Mick Collins, shall place the Defendant, Molly Collins,

In suitable bondage to accomplish the following punishment:

Plaintiff shall bring the Defendant, to the verge of orgasm as many times as he likes (but no fewer that 10 times.)

The Plaintiff may use any method he likes including, but not limited to, vibrators, fingers, mouth, penis, dildos or butt plugs.

The Plaintiff may have as many orgasms as he likes, but after the Defendant, has been brought to the edge the requisite amount of times,

She will not be permitted to have an orgasm, but rather will have to wait till at least 4.00 PM Eastern standard time on Sunday the 29th day of May, 2001 to gain "relief."

During the switch day tease and denial the Plaintiff may also freely spank, crop, paddle, cane, strap, the Defendant to his heart’s content.

The Court also rules that when switch day is over, Defendant may exact ANY revenge she chooses.

It is Hereby ordered:

HIS HONOR

THE WC


Thank you, your honor.

At last, Justice will be done.

And, if I might add, with all due respect, while you may have quite a "special occasion" sword, it is not particularly swift.

A Comment from Ireland and a Dispatch from our Science Correspondent from the Road

Mistress and Slave did not have nearly enough “intimate” time together yesterday in River City. I had to be up and out the door by 6 am for an all day engagement in our state’s flat as a pancake capitol. So I had to leave Mistress behind, snoozing in bed, as I crept out toe door, sans our normal “wake-up” sex.

I know that will have many of you groaning in commiseration.

By the time I got home at 7 pm, the sullen teens were demanding to be taken out to dinner. And by the time that was over, well, Slave was bone tired. I did make sure to fulfill my obligations to Mistress by giving her a long slow worship as she lounged in bed, that new nightie hiked up to her waist as my tongue and lips bobbed and weaved through her clean shaven folds.

Her nectar is rather addictive, so I needed a fix, even if my work-a-day cock was a little too fried for proper service. (Actually it was my brain that was fried, the two need to work together, at least at this stage of an aging pampered Slave’s life). And Mistress seemed to enjoy the fruits of my labor.

We both seemed to sleep very well after that little activity was concluded with Mistress moaning her satisfaction, hips rising to meet my mouth in her final throes of ecstasy.

One thing that thrilled me yesterday as I sat in my long meeting, in  a lull in the action, was seeing an anonymous comment that seemed to come from the Emerald Isle, in response to my posting about our President tipping a pint with some long lost relatives there earlier in the week. If you haven’t seen the video, check it out here: Barack and his Guiness.

This gentleman (I’m assuming that, I guess), noted that his grandfather had fought along side my adopted namesake, Michael Collins, during the 1917 era uprising against British colonial rule, then had been at cross purposes with him during the sad Civil War that followed between the purer “Republicans” and those who were willing to settle for political independence for the southern counties. I felt that a little bit of history was connecting us through this crazy blog. Thanks for the comment, sir! Let’s both lift a pint in memory of your grandfather and his heroism this weekend, which celebrates Memorial Day here in the states.

Now before I am off to break my sad 24 hour abstinence with my lovely, Mistress, I’m happy to share this dispatch from our Senior (and more recently Science) Correspondent Donna, wrapping up some persona leave in her home state of Florida. We’ve missed her, and yes, with this dispatch in the bank, you can consider your leave ended on Thursday, Donna. I will make sure our payroll department is clued in!

As my time in Florida grows to a close, I am so damn anxious to get home to my Dom, my home, and my mountains. While the medical care has been unbelievably positive and amazing, I am in need, real need, of my Bill. I am not vanilla, I am not happy in the vanilla world, and I am only complete, whole and balanced when living my BDSM lifestyle. I find that everything for me is interpreted through that lens.

As I waited in line for my herbal brew this morning, I noticed a newspaper opened to a page with an illustration of muscles. Odd. I looked closer, and right off the bat, in bold capital letters in the first paragraph, I saw the word DOMS! Yes, my heart did a dance of joy. If I can’t be with my Dom right now, at least I can live vicariously through someone else. 

Being so very impressed that this particular newspaper would be open-minded enough to include an article on Doms, I snatched that section of the newspaper and started to read, Sadly, I was wrong. It turns out this article is about DOMS as related to sports medicine, an acronym for Delayed Onset Muscle Soreness.

As I sipped the truly difficult to swallow brew of tree bark, herbs and who knows what else that is called tea here, I tried hard to hold onto my positive thoughts and reconsidered what I had just read. I thought about the fact that all subs have been in situations where they were so into what was happening to their pussy, boobs, cock or balls that they didn’t pay attention to how far they were being pulled, filled or stretched or how hard they were being pinched, tugged or bitten and they experienced muscle soreness the following day. There just might be information that would be useful in this article, and it just might be that the person who came up with the acronym DOMS is into the lifestyle and thought this was funny; I know that would be something my Dom would do.

As I continued to read, certain phrases stood up…I mean out. As I scanned the article I saw the phrase “post-workout euphoria can leave you feeling pumped to conquer the world.” Oh, I certainly agree with that, and when my Dom is pumped, or I am pumping him, euphoria is sure to follow.

Then I read “eccentric muscle contraction when the muscle lengthens as it contracts.” And clearly, at that point I could see that this article was for our world. As I play with Bill using some rubbing, a little nibbling and bit of sucking, (he likes a whole lot of sucking) he lengthens and after a while contractions and shudders start. It’s all there!

“Next day soreness is a good thing, forcing the muscles to adapt so next time there is less damage, less soreness and less recovery time – basically you are stronger.” Now that’s what I’m talking about! Our Doms and this lifestyle make us stronger, healthier, able to leap tall buildings…well that may be a bit over the top. Haha, leap buildings-over the top. Yep, it’s a for sure thing that I need more caffeine.

So what is the upshot (I love that word) of the article? It tells the reader to work up and cool down (we call that foreplay and after care in our world), to incorporate massage and a warm bath into the routine (oh, yeah), to vary the pace, fast and slow, hard and easy (oh my, yes!) and participate in activities frequently and regularly to avoid muscle stiffness (preaching to the choir, man).

What an enlightening and timely article considering that I will be back home in the arms of my very own Dom on Saturday. I will be sure to put all this information to good use, and maybe I’ll even write a little note to the author and let him know how his article applies so well to the BDSM world. Won’t he be surprised, or maybe not?

Hugs to all,
Donna

P.S. - I will fly home on Saturday. I have just one more medical appointment tomorrow afternoon and then head for the airport early Saturday morning. Should you hear that for some odd reason planes are not flying out of Orlando on Saturday, you can bet the farm that I'll be hitchhiking. One way or another, I'm getting out of Florida and heading home.

While it is working better this evening, I have only been able to access the internet for a few minutes now and then since I arrived. I am looking forward to catching up on this week's UCTMW blogs when I get home. But first, I have some significant

sexual catching up to do with Bill, and I am anxiously looking forward to that!

Great to hear from you Donna. I am sure Bill will like to see this new found knowledge put to use. Safe travels!

HNT / Mistress's New Nightie

Walking through Capitol Hill's  Eastern Market on Sunday with sullen teen #2,  we found dozens of local artisans and craftsfolk selling their wares. There was furniture. prints, jewelry paintings, and lots of hand made clothing items.

What caught my eye was an older lady who had tie-dyed a variety of vintage slips, tops and bottoms. Now you may have noticed from some of our occasional photos that Mistress is a big tie-dye fan. She has a variety of colorful dresses and tops. But a tie-dye slips, now that was something new.... I couldn't resist, though the sullen ten just rolled her eyes in disgust as I ran throught eh colorful options.

I think Mistress was happy with her little gift when we got home Sunday evening.... and she's worn it every night since.  the texture is smooth and sexy, and makes her all the more cuddly in bed.

Now I wish I had bought several!  What do you think?

A Voice from the Past

Mistress had her quota of orgasms yesterday morning in our bed, after reading our blog. But there she was perched on a chair in my office at around 10:10 am yesterday.

She had an early meeting nearby, and, well, “there’s no point in missing the opportunity, Slave….”

Slave was more than happy to accommodate, shifting the chair against the wall, letting her sit on that absorbent maroon blanket, and getting to work. I made sure to take a photo, in case you wanted to catch up on Mistress’s shoe selection, or the latest nail polish color. And the side benefit through the day was the faint aroma of her juices that coated my cheeks and lips.

Soon Mistress was strolling back to her office, and I was buried in preparation for a long meeting later this week when my cell phone rang.

“Slave…. on the way back I got a call from E… “

Strange. A voice from the past.

E was Mistress’s former college lover.

Well maybe “lover” is too grand a word for it: their sexual organs found one another in the same location two or three times after some late night partying, according to foggy legend. But what is important here is that the surprising mutual hotness of the whole “cuckold” thing between Mistress and Slave was discovered when Molly and E had a little cyber and phone flirtation back in the fall of 2009.

And all that led to the creation of this blog.

So E has taken on a key supporting character in the “Secret Origins” of UCTMW, though more as villain than hero. Here is an entry from our early days, referring to E.

However, he also was quickly land justifiably labeled a “cad” here when he unceremoniously and without explanation backed off, after amply priming Mistress’s pump.

Since then Mistress has moved on…. So this call was….

“strange, Slave… he said he wanted to explain himself… and what had happened.”

“And did you let him, Mistress….”

“I said I thought he had some explaining to do…. That after all that hype I felt rather used….”

“And for good reason, Mistress….”

We talked about it in more detail on our drive home.

“He had a story about how things with him and his wife were not where he thought they were then, so when he shared what was going on, she freaked out…”

(In fact, Mistress actually talked to the wife, at E’s encouragement…. “she was cool with it,” he said then. But…. Not so much.)

“I told him that I felt used, that he was using me to get back at his wife for her own little ‘adventures’….”

“And how did he respond?”

“He said that he could see that…. But now things are different….”

“Of course they are, Mistress….”

“Right…. Now they are “swingers”…. Supposedly they had sex with some other couple in Vegas recently….”

“Were you supposed to be impressed?”

“I told him that’s not what we do…. That my husband is not allowed to do that sort of thing…. While I have permission to do what I want, when I want….”

“That’s true, Mistress….”

“He did have a funny thing to say about you, Slave…”

“And what was that….”

“He says you were the visionary … that you had it all figured out before the rest of us….”

I laughed.

“I agreed… I said my husband is a visionary in many things….”

“I just like to make you happy, Mistress….”

By now we were almost home. Mistress had her legs up on the dash, and my free hand was roaming her supple thighs. I was planning some worship before our bike ride once we got home.

“Well…. it seemed clear that he was trying to figure a way to get things started again, Slave… and I made clear that I had moved on… that I had my hands full these days….”

“Good for you, Mistress…. but of course that is up to you.”

“That it is, Slave… but not much later he sent me a text. Something about still wanting to have my bottom over his knee and give me a good spanking….”

“In his dreams, Mistress….”

“Exactly, Slave.”

A Toast to the Emerald Isle and a Missing Apostrophe

As you might imagine, it’s no accident that the protagonists of this meandering adventure story have taken on the name of a famous Irish clan, and particularly one Mick Collins, courageous Irish freedom fighter of the 1917 uprising and thereafter. (Though the royalists no doubt thought of him as a terrorist back in his day).

Molly and Mick have been to that fair isle on several occasions, by ourselves and with girls in tow. It’s a lovely place to visit and reconnect to a shared past, though the weather can leave you a little sodden.

So yesterday, after we enjoyed our lusty morning “connection” here at the World Headquarters, we turned on the TV to the sight of our beloved (at least in this household) President, making his own homecoming, to that Island, connecting to the more remote but still meaningful roots connected to his Mother’s side of the family.

Of course, the glory of it all was that the Irish people, particularly in the small town that spruced itself up for his visit, were more than happy to overlook the complexion of our President’s skin, and accept the word of the genealogists who had uncovered the connection to a great grand grandfather. There was even a song about it, that came out during the 2008 campaign. Here's the  link to "There's No One as Irish as Barack O'Bama."

Apparently there has been no equivalent of the Donald, demanding to see the documentary proof, and wondering if it had been photo-shopped.

When Mistress and I returned home from work, we planned a bike ride, but first, of course, there was some worship. Actually the second of the day, since Mistress had joined me for lunch, and her clean shaven folds had been a lovely appetizer for me.

Mistress laid back on the bed, munching a juicy plum, while I did my own munching, taking her over the top once, then, after a little rest and conversation, me resting my head against those lovely thighs, I enjoyed a second helping. Her bucking hips and muffled sighs suggested she enjoyed my hearty appetite as well.

After the juices settled, we both reached into our respective dressers to dig out T-shirts for our ride. As it turned out, we had both focused on the theme of the day. Our grumbling Sullen teen #1 was drafted to take this photo to share with you:

I just wish I had been there in that tiny town, to tip a pint with our latest Irish-American President.

82 hours, 36 minutes.....

Yes, I know, I am a pampered house Slave.... but for me that may have been the longest wait from one cum to the next since the days back in the Dubya era when Slave was commuting back and forth from River City to Orlando.

 ( I am sure Tammy at All Mine and Sissy at Ms. Marie routinely have their needs deferred much longer than 82 hours and 36 minutes..., so my whining is probably a little pathetic. )

So by the time I got home with the sullen teen last night from our trip to DC .... around 8:30 pm post rapture eastern daylight savings time, Slave was more than a little anxious to bid teens good night and drop to my knees for some worship.

It was lovely to savor the taste and texture I had missed for so many days.

"Can you tell I went for a brisk walk, and baked in the sun a today, Slave?"

I think all that escaped my lips, so busy were they, was something like

"Ummmyummmmm."

Plans to do a little evening Switch Time were quickly shelved for some more conventional love making once my worship was completed.

And Mistress added to Slave's desperation when she instructed me to insert my "device", the little white aneros.

"I know you've been traveling Slave, so let's make sure my cock is extra hard for me."

"I don't think that will be a problem, Mistress."

And of course it wasn't. 

But Slave slept late this morning, so I am going to leave the rest to your imagination, in order to  make sure I get a second helping before it's off to work this Monday morning.

Mistress Plays By Her Own Rules

As I was getting dressed this morning for a day on the town here in DC with my sullen teen and her older sister, I checked in with Mistress.

She said she planned a bike ride, then some sunning with our other teen. But first she was going to treat herself to an orgasm. (Come to think of it, she didn't give me a quantity).

"Are you going to use the hitachi, Mistress?"

"Of course, Slave...."

Soone she was texting me taunting photos of the hitachi, as well as her "clean shaven folds".

But she made it clear that this indulgence was for her alone.

"You can wait until you get back tonight, Slave.... just a few more hours."

So I refrained, continuing to follow my "no touching" protocol. Though I did see this photo that reminded me what Mistress was up to back in the comfort of our bed.

AS you can imagine, the sullen teen thought ti was really embarassaing that I stopped to take this picture

Missing Mistress

Slave is still here in DC today. So the news on the sex at UCTMW is pretty bleak. No touching has been the rules, though Mistress was kind enough to spare me the cage.

Ans last night, when it became clear that neither one of us had been "called" to some other loftier state, Mistress texted a warning / promise:

"You are past due for that ass fucking Slave...."


I couldn't agree more. and our readers are due some choice tid-bits as well.

Mistress did get a bit of a reprieve though. A three am "booty call" from the WC, apparently made from his basement very early Saturday morning.

There are few things that would make Mistress happy about a call in the middle of the night. But I suspect hearing M telling her to deploy her power tool and make it dance on her cunt at his command was one of them.

Yesterday, when we had a chance for some brief private conversation, I got a few questions in:

"So did M get off too, Mistress?"

"He seemed to Slave.... he said he was calling from the basement so as not to disturb his family."

Apparently M's infamous brother, the one with the ass seeking fingers is in town visiting, leaving M pretty busy with golf this weekend. I do worry about those cocktail waitresses at the 19th hole. They may have a surprise in store.

Fortunately, Slave's brief adventure in chastity will end this evening. I'm looking forward to an early bedtime with Mistress. I miss her soft skin, delicious taste and fragrant folds.

And I'm wondering if she remembers it will still be  switch day when I get home?

Another Lamestream Sex Blog

Slave and Mistress remain sadly separated for yet another day. So there is little o report that our readers might find entertaining. Here in our nation’s capitol I slogged around town all day in the humidity, showing sullen teen #2 the sights, and taking a tour of a college campus that might be of interest to her. Last evening we even took in a play at the Kennedy Center.

The teen has this annoying habit of nagging the shit out of both her Mother and Father when we tedious “lovebirds” want to talk on the phone, thereby distracting us from the attention we might otherwise be lavishing on her. (My guess is she just doesn’t “get” that we actually enjoy one another’s company). So Mistress and her Slave were not in much touch yesterday.

But rest assured, Mistress, I have rigorously followed the “no touch” rule. And I am missing you here in this lonely bed this morning. Can’t wait to get home and be with you tomorrow evening.

If you are not raptured away by then, of course.

I did download a few photos to share with our readers, including the one above of the executive mansion, all abuzz with a visit from the Israeli Prime Minister, who seems the type who needs even more attention than Sullen Teen #2.

And there’s this local culinary outpost, near where we are staying, one of the few local landmarks on U St. that survived the riots of 1968.

But the only non-lame illustration today comes by way of Donna, our Senior Correspondent.



Good Golly Miss Molly!


You know, I don't think I could even write a joking column about this one. Ouch!


The business end looks somewhat like a hand grenade and it's "petals" look like they could pinch the shit out of...well, I suppose that phrase might be really accurate for The Asslock!


I am hoping the second key is for the wearer to hold onto in case that "truly unique feeling of fullness" becomes the real thing. I don't think of that part of my anatomy as a door that should be locked shut.


Donna

Here is the link: http://kinkydelight.com/2011/the-anal-pear/



They’re kidding, right? If not. then I hope Tammy over at All Mine remembers to use the spell check in all future entries when he sits in at the blog for Suzanne.

From Your On the Road Correspondents

Well, we’re at it again …. Separated for a few days, just as we were getting back into our normal groove in River City. Slave is in DC with sullen teen #2, making a college visit and spending time with other family members. Meanwhile, Mistress is at home with Sullen Teen #1. We will both get some solo bonding time with the girls who will soon be emptying our nest, but will be missing one another too.

This morning, I had an early meeting in a town to the north, but at least we got in some robust wake up sex which will have to tide me over until Sunday night.

But then Mistress already has a leg up on me on the O count. After the two she had this morning, complements of her Slave, she had a date with her “personal trainer” our WC, who no doubt had her deploying the Hitachi to tone certain hard to reach muscles.

When I was done with my meeting, I checked in with her.

“How was M, Mistress?”

“He was fine, Slave….”

She gives me that coy, sultry voice to rub it in a little deeper.

“And how many were you allowed this morning?”

“Just four, Slave….”

Oh, poor dear.

No doubt M had at least one of his own to go with her four. Let's hope he did not let that medicinal sperm go to waste.  Donna, has there been any research on how best to preserve it without losing its anti-depressant kick?

And I suspect Mistress too advantage of her private time with M to do a little ex parte communicating with “His Honor”, in hopes of mitigating the sentence he is do to impose for her misbehavior last Sunday.

I am a little concerned that the WC could end up succumbing to her importuning if he lets these deliberations run on too long.

It turns out that Donna, our Senior and Science Correspondent is also going away this weekend, but not to her heavenly reward, sans clothing. She’s headed to Florida for a few days, and has sent this dispatch on how Bill, our Director of Security International is considering how to handle her remotely in her absence.

                                                       Assistance Requested.

The other day Mick and I were talking on the phone about some blog things and then, what with Molly’s recent return from her trip abroad and the coin toss/clothespin/orgasm situation fresh in his mind, Mick asked about activities and requirements Bill is planning for my week away. I chuckled and said I hadn’t heard of any requirements. From behind me there came a deep male laugh followed by the word, “Yet!”

Oops.

With that, Bill opened a spiral notebook, flipped through the pages for a moment and then held up a page that had DONNA written in big letters across the top. It seems that Bill had indeed been making plans. Yesterday, after housing arrangements firmed up, we sat down together to go over Bill’s requirements and immediately began to run into some roadblocks. 

Let me explain, please.

See the picture of my chastity belt here? 

The problem is the chains. First, I checked the TSA website and it would seem that the chains mean that this isn’t an approved garment for wearing on airplanes. It has something to do with the metal and the need to take it off during security screenings and since Bill isn’t going and he would have the key...well,  I can accept that this would be inconvenient for the security people, and goodness knows I don’t want to be responsible for slowing down their already slow lines, so that was the first glitch.

 We talked about waiting until I arrived at my destination, putting on the chastity belt and mailing the key home to Bill, but an additional difficulty with the chastity belt is that I will be splitting my time between a medical facility, not likely to be wild about my belt, and the home of relatives. These relatives rescue dogs, many dogs. 

The dogs and puppies have free range of the  house and the sound of chain rattling means they are about to be leashed to go outside to go potty. Some of the little terrier dogs get so excited when they hear that sound that they let their bladders get ahead of the situation, if you know what I mean.  I wouldn’t want that to happen every time I move. Really. I wouldn’t.

Bill was thinking about sending the Hitachi since my suitcase will have to travel in the hold anyway, but as he thought more about the situation and considered the noise it makes, as well as the noise I make as I use the Hitachi, he decided this could be a problem in a home with such thin walls, especially considering the birds. 

This might be the time to share that these big hearted relatives also rescue birds, cockatiels, sun conures and parrots. They are gorgeous birds and there are cages all throughout the house. Yes, you sharp cookies, you guessed it, I’m going to be rooming with the parrots. I have visions of sitting at breakfast and listening to the parrots mimicking the sound of the motor of the Hitachi interspersed with cries of Oh, Ah, and Um followed by a hearty, Oh, shit!  

Ever creative, Bill’s next thought was to send a gag and my industrial strength pocket rocket, which the birds might sleep through, but on second consideration, probably not the dogs. Although, if I could arrange to howl at exactly the same moment as the dogs, I thought that might have a chance of working. But the walls really are thin and while I am certain our relatives understand that I have a sexual nature, I don’t really think they want to be aware, on any level,  that I am taking care of my needs in the room next door, even if it is Masturbation Month.

Of course, the perfect answer might be a very quiet remote controlled egg with Bill in charge of the remote, but the chances of that working over hundreds of miles is really remote.

Hahaha. Get it? Remote?

Okay, I need more coffee! In any case, Bill asked that I appeal to you for suggestions that take into account the dogs, birds, shared bathroom and paper thin walls. How about it guys? And, please, be gentle with me.  Hahaha, or not!

Your soon to be on the road correspondent,

Donna

HNT / Text Message from Mistress

It was around 8:55 am yesterday. I was already deep into one of those tedious too-early in the morning breakfasts for a local charity. The “spread” consisted of cold bagels, lukewarm coffee, and a few flaccid pieces of fruit. The speakers had droned on for nearly 50 minutes, eliminating the only real enjoyment in these things… chatting with folks you had not seen in a while.

Would we have been there if we didn’t already know it was a good cause? Apparently, the droning speakers thought we needed to be persuaded. Either that or they just enjoyed hearing themselves blabber on. About 80% of the guests in the room seemed to be scanning their blackberries or I-phones for emails or twitter updates.

That’s when my own phone vibrated.

Ahhh, a text from Mistress, who was likely getting ready to enter her first meeting of the day – a pitch for a hot new prospective client.

“That was a very hard cock today, Slave….”

Jolt.

Since my cage was firmly in place, her message gave me a little twitch, that seemed to make things all the tighter in there. Nothing like having to sit through a boring hour long breakfast with colleagues, trying to minimize the squirming in your chair because of the tight steel cage your Mistress locked on before you headed out the door.

Standing up, stretching, walking around makes the cage quite bearable. But extended sitting …. It just gets tight and irritating.

And one reason why my cock was so hard for her earlier was that I had already fitted the tight steel ring around my balls, then crammed my cock through the remaining “space”. Not a very comfortable enterprise at all. But once the ring is in place, and the taste and scent of Mistress’s pleasing parts get to me with a little wake up worship…. Well that cock becomes “very hard”, as Mistress had just reminded me. It always seems to lead to compliments.

It would be a long day in that cage.

Fortunately, Mistress had the key in hand before dinner time, and was generous enough to unlock me, once I had worshipped her in the fashion to which she had become accustomed.

(Hope you enjoy these little photos of Mistress, taken during that bath I wrote about yesterday.)

Science Wednesday

We’ve had a very strange weather pattern here in River City these last few days. The best I can describe it as is Irish Weather. Gloomy. Rainy. Colder than normal for these parts. Last week we were in the 80’s here. This week, the temperature range has been from 45 to about 55.  Just plain yuck.

Mistress had planned for us to go on a bike ride after work yesterday afternoon, but the damp, cold and gloom had gotten to her. So when she strode into my building lobby, ready to head home at around 5:30 or so last evening, she had other plans.

“Slave, I told M that I am going to take a hot bath when we get home. You will serve me a glass of Tequilla in the tub. And we will take a picture to send him.”

“Sounds like a plan, Mistress.”

I wasn’t too thrilled about a damp, bone chilling bike ride myself.

So there we were, back at home. Mistress was quick to shed her short black dress (no tights or pants again today, she’s trying to pretend it’s actually summer despite the weather), and begin running her bath.

I had my orders: I poured her a tequila on ice. For me, some Jamieson neat to cut the chill.

The sullen teens were barely noticing this change of plans. Though one of them commented on the beverages in her wise ass way.

“Isn’t it a little early for that?”

She gave me a look like I was Don Draper, pouring my 5^th martini of the day, just after lunch time.

“Your Mother had a busy day, and now needs to chill…..”

Nothing like judgmental teens.

By now Mistress was settled into her tub, bubbles oozing around her.

“Get my camera, Slave….I promised M a picture.”

I dutifully retrieved her I-phone, and gave her some staging directions as she wriggled into the warm frothy tub. I snapped some for M, and then a few on my own camera for her inspection later, and maybe to share with you should they meet her very high standards.

After that, she climbed from her tub, wrapped herself in a towel and we retreated to our bed, for a little pre-diner R & R.

“Let me know when you are ready for worship, Mistress….”

“In a few, Slave….”

She studied a few of the shots I had taken, then texted one photo off to M, who responded in a few moments.

“’ Sexy Lady’, he says, Slave.”

“He’s right about that, Mistress.”

She reviewed all of your comments, made one of her own, then indicated the time had come to be pleasured.

I leaned over her, my mouth dipping into her warm and freshly scrubbed folds, but she had something else in mind.

“You get a much better angle on your knees, Slave.”

Of course, Mistress is always right.

One thing about our Senior Correspondent Donna, (unlike some of our other correspondents, I might add) is that she takes the initiative to find interesting stories to share with our curious readers. Take for example, this bit of science on the value of a substance that some of us may take for granted, which follows some of her observations about why Mistress’s lovely nipples were so challenged by the clothespins in that “on all fours” position on Sunday.

I tried to word my comments about our CEO and the clothespins carefully, hoping to avoid offending any of our small breasted readers, but really, you can tell from the lovely photo that there is significant pressure being exerted by Molly's breast tissue. If it doesn't hurt more when in that position rather than others, then either there isn't much breast tissue to add pressure or there is a surplus of silicone blocking nerve endings. Being a non-siliconed D cup, I can vouch for that!

The study I have added below is actually from 2002, but didn't get much press at the time. My guess is that it would have cut down on sales of both Prozac and condoms. I am quite disappointed that oral consumption of semen and anal sex were not included as part of this study. Talk about incomplete. Maybe we can round out the study within our little group. I think we could get volunteers, don't you? Except for the control group...none of our friends would want to be in the no sex group! Oh well, another good idea down the drain
(following is a quote from the story with a link below)

Semen is a great antidepressant
 

Semen carries with it more than just sperm; it’s a whole cocktail of substances, out of which some have the potential to alleviate depression in women – estrogen, prostaglandins and oxytocin. The first two were already known to somewhat lower depression, but oxytocin is way more powerful; it shows up at birth or during breastfeeding, making women more happy, less in pain, and way more likely to bond with others.

The study confirmed that the semen is genetically built to work in man’s favour – thanks to those hormones, the female has a stronger bond with him, feels more satisfied, and is way less depressed; thus, the male has already increased the chances of another “bonding”, thus also increasing the chances to reproduce, which is what your body wants, basically.

Interestingly enough, the research also concluded that in terms of depression, there is pretty much no difference between condom users and abstrainers, so the act of sex itself does no good against depression. Even though, of course, safe sex is always recommended, from this point of view, it is recommended to have sex without a condom. Go figure…

http://www.zmescience.com/research/studies/semen-antidepressant-16052-11/?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=feed&utm_campaign=Feed:zmescienceZMEScience&utm_content=GoogleReader

Does Semen Have Antidepressant Properties?

Gordon G. Jr. Gallup, Rebecca L. Burch and Steven M. Platek

http://www.springerlink.com/content/wrkl9lc5ueu43rh8

Of course, this got us thinking about Tammy, over at ALL Mine. Suzanne’s “wife” has been getting some extra semen dosages from clean up and other duties of late. Suzanne, can you tell if it is having apositive mood enhancement effect?