Cage Day

There was a comment from someone labeled "anonymous" yesterday that got Mistress's attention .... the spirit of it was that Slave got a thwacking because we ran into a woman from my past (what our mutual "past" was remains a matter of disagreement), wheras somehow Mistress avoided her contractual switch day obligations.

And while I appreciate a little moral support from our readers, in fairness to Mistress, I am sure she would have submitted to switch day on Sunday had I insisted..... it was just that our day was structured in a way that really did not give us the time for a proper switch.  So let's chock it up to clever scheduling on her part rather than an anticipatory breach of contract.  I suspect I will get my chance again soon to redden those lovely buns.... hopefully this Sunday.

But lets move onto yesterday's developments here at the UCTMW World HQ.  Mistress had to drive up to our oh so flat state capital. So certain rules applied.

"You need to wear the cage Monday, Slave....."

"Of course, Mistress...."

It was a little cold here Monday morning, before the sun gave us what seemed like an early springtime. Which meant I had to wiggle the hard steel ring up and around my balls and cock before things got too "tight" down there. That accomplished, I wrote the blog and then rejoined Mistress in her Executive Suite at the appointed time.

Mistress was still sound asleep, so I had to give her a little time to rejoin the living. But by the time she was reading the blog, and I was using my lips and tongues to  satisfy her early morning needs, Mistress had "come alive", but not in a Peter Frampton hair band sort of way.

Once she had her "starter cum", she turned her attention to my cock, already hardening up within that tight steel ring. Soon I was very close to the edge from the soft caresses of her fingers, begging for the privilege to fuck her.

And when she relented, allowing me to mount her, she seemed pleased with the combined results of "morning cock" meeting "steel ring".

"Ummmm..... nice Slave....."

And even after permission was granted, and Slave had his deferred satisfaction, Mistress seemed to have some latent desires that still needed to be quenched.

"Would you like a little Hitachi chaser, Mistress....."

She checked the clock, and mulled over my offer.

"Sure Slave, I think we can fit that in....."

Once Mistress had rock and rolled to the tune of her power tool, we were finally up and into the shower. And after I fit the cover over my cock, she made her self available to shut the lock and secure her cock for the day.

And through the day, I received the occasional texted taunt.

"How's my caged slave doing?"

They served as a little reminder that although she was 100 miles away, she remained in charge, giving me a little twitch inside that cage at the thought of it all.

Of course, at the end of the day, her cock was looking forward to its parole. She had arrived home a little earlier than me, and took a bike ride in our unusually warm, sunny late January weather.

"How about I worship, Mistress, and then you an unlock me."

She pealed off her black (naturally) exercise leggings, exposing those clean shaven folds.

"It depends on how good a job you do, Slave."

I made sure to do my very best work.

UnMarked

You will note that the cute tush to the left, unlike the one presented here yesterday is NOT marked by any stingy crop marks. It does not even have a little red hue from a good hand spanking.

Yes, yesterday was "Switch Day" here at the UCTMW World HQ, but for the 2nd week in a row, Mistress was able to talk and schedule her way out of that weekly comeuppance that is included in our contract.

Of course, last week it was the fact that we were packing up to head for River City from our "On the Lam" mountain hideaway. There was early AM sex, but not the time to tie Mistress to the bed and give her the full switch say treatment.

Yesterday the excuse was a 9 AM spinning class that Mistress wanted to attend, and of course Slave was very accommodating, joining her at the gym for some exercise of my own.

Now that 9 AM spinning schedule did allow for some hot early morning sex here at in our Executive Suite, just not the type that would have marred that firm and tender bottom.

There was worship as she reviewed the blog, her earnest efforts with those own tender lips to tease her Slave's cock, and some extended love making that seemed to deliver Mistress an additional orgasm or two before Slave was given permission to cum.

But even then, with a little more time before we dressed for the gym, my sense was that Mistress was not completely fulfilled.

"Would you like a little fun with your power tool, Mistress?"

"Hmmmm...." she glanced at the clock.....
That sounds like a good idea, Slave......"

So I reached under the bed and thumbed on Mistress's hitachi. She gave me a little help making sure the business end was positioned just so, then laid back and let herself build for a good time to a nice satisfying climax to her pre-spinning warm up.  I do enjoy see Mistress writhe and moan her way to one of these tool induced cums.  

Impressive, Mistress.

Although, it does make you wonder.... that sucker could ultimately make Slave redundant.

Though my remaining advantage is that I still function during a power outage.

Prescient

Every now and then my predictive skills are uncanny.... well not like Suzanne over at All Mine, but still pretty good.

And yesterday was a particularly good day.

First, there was the odd confluence of events. I mentioned running into a woman with the back story of having been involved with a former NFL QB. Low and behold, the local newspaper yesterday morning had a big feature story on this fellow, who had not played a snap since the early 1970's.

Then in our blog I predicted that the Jewish real estate developer who had sidled up to Mistress at the art opening would shortly pop up on her facebook friends list. 

That happened by around 2 pm, when Slave and Mistress settled into a little R & R in our executive suite.

"Funny Mistress... he didn't friend request me....."

"Does that surprise you, Slave...."

No, not particularly.

Finally, I predicted that our unexpected encounter with that local singer / songwriter would end up costing me a sore ass. This is the one who used to date my brother (I introduced them for God's sake), but who Mistress has insisted for the last 20 years that I secretly have the hots for.

Sure enough, once our cute Co-Ed daughter (who made a cameo appearance yesterday at around noon) headed off to a hair appointment, Mistress suggested it was time for me to pay the price for her paranoia.

"Get out my supplies, Slave.... including the riding crop."

Maybe I should have taken a little longer spreading pitch like goop on the flat part of our roof that had taken to leaking during a recent monsoon.  See.... I can be a "field slave" every now and then.



But I knew that further arguing would be fruitless.


"Yes, Mistress...."




I assembled her "supplies" -- strap-on harness, it's "accessory", lubricant, and of course her riding crop.



And I "took my position", after disrobing at her direction.

She commenced to thwack at me, while lecturing me on how obvious it was that somehow I had this long suppressed flame burning for  this particular object of her disdain.

And I must say it hurt like hell. My ass was bouncing off the bed, and I did not do a particularly good job of maintaining my position.

But at least Mistress was able to relieve herself of her concern. Let's hope its a long time before we run into this woman again.

When she was done, she took a photo of my well cropped buns. 

"I'm sending one copy to you for the blog, Slave.... and one to the WC, who advised me to give you a good cropping today...."

Gee, thanks, Miguel.  And I've been so lenient when reviewing your AmEx card expenses of late. I guess I need to use a sharper pencil the next time you submit a $350 bar tab for entertaining a "source".

Afterwords, Mistress was in a more compassionate mood though. She already had that harness on, and caressed the marks on my ass, before guiding her little projectile into my back door.

And once she taken an orgasm or two that way, she told me to insert my aneros, and come back to bed and fuck her. Which I did to my hearts content.

And while my ass stung like hell for those moments of torment, all that pain quickly turned into a little warming glow as I plunged into those clean shaven folds.

But I think I'll steer clear of the predictions department today.... you'll have to consult Suzanne if you want some reliable dope on next Sunday's Super Bowl.

Small Town

Last night Mistress and Slave went to an art opening in an older, semi-revitalized part of town. It was an urbanista thing. Lots of folks dressed in various shades of black,  spanning the age range. The artist was someone we barely know - but have known a while, former husband of someone I worked with years ago, but who let Mistress know about his show through facebook.

(I think he was flirting a bit with Mistress via facebook messages, but I suppose it could have just been "good marketing", huh?)

Mistress, of course, was looking quite fetching: black boots, tights and dress (yes, fans, those peek-a-boo tights), some tasteful but eye catching SW jewelry, and a turquoise scarf to add a little color. I always feel like the luckiest guy in the room to have her on my arm.


One of the odd aspects about living in a town like River City is all of the connections that randomly pop up at an event like this. The social molecules are just too tightly compacted, so that we're all just bouncing off one another.

So as we entered the door we were confronted by a woman who I have known for years -- she actually used to date my since departed brother during the Reagan regime -- and who Mistress is CONVINCED (despite no supportive evidence I might add) I somehow have the hots for.

As she chatted us up in her rat-a-tat style, I probably made the mistake of expressing knowledge of her recent performance (she is an amateur singer songwriter) at a club in NYC. Somehow, my addled brain even recalled the name of the club. Of course, this was knowledge I had gleened simply from her facebook postings about said gig, not because I had either spoken to her, or somehow snuck out to attend this gig while Mistress was sleeping one night.

In any event, I could tell Mistress was a little discomfited by this expression of what she later described as "intimacy" with this woman (who I had not spoken to, let alone seen in at least a couple of years).... ah, well..... I expect I've already earned a few strokes from Mistress's crop this afternoon.  Better for her to let it out than let it fester is my motto.

Of course, we were not done with all these strange encounters. It turned out that the artist who seemed to be flirting with Mistress had somehow become engaged in recent weeks to a woman we had just met only recently. Her bizarre connection to us was as the ex-wife of a guy who had lived with and almost married my ex-wife in the 1990's. (Of course, before that she was married to a former NFL QB, but I won't go down that road.... I know you all hate it when I get into sports and politics).

"Hmmmm..... how did that happen so fast Mistress.... and here he was flirting with you and courting someone else.... shocking......"

"Shut up.... Slave...."

See, she was still pissed about the singer song-writer.

Then the ex-wife of the artist shows up with their mutual daughter. "Just showing support for his work", s she put it.

This is the woman I worked with in the 1980's and 1990's. In their conversation, Mistress reminded me that somehow this woman dated or was otherwise involved with a guy who Mistress worked with at the time (he now shows up on MSNBC a good bit). This woman, nice, but always a bit of a flake, described meeting Mistress circa 1988, in her mid-20's -all excited about her trip to the Democratic National Convention that summer. And it seems she did take note that Slave, her more senior colleague, was on that trip too. Apparently someone was connecting our dots for us.

But as she noted, "the statute of limitations has expired on that one...."

Now, who am I missing....

There was the Jewish real estate investor who sidled up the Mistress at some point while I was fetching her another little plastic cup of wine. He seemed to be taken by her, and a little disappointed when I showed up. They quickly ran through all of their tribal connections: mothers were pals, that guy he went to high school that we all know, yadda, yadda.

Somehow I suspect Mistress will be hearing from him on facebook.

Riding and Slapping

Schedules have been overturned here at the UCTMW World HQ this week. And the last 24 hours have been particularly weird. We were up and out at 7 am yesterday, and did not return until after 8 pm, having been waylaid by a reception for a DC poobah into town for a lecture at a local Museum.

By the time we fought our way home through a hard cold rain, the GOP debate was on. Slave didn't want to miss that.... and by the time it was over, Mistress was fast asleep in the bed next to me.

Ouch.

That means there was no sex at all here yesterday..... a highly unusual development.

Things changed this morning though. Slave had come downstairs at around 5:45 am, to write the blog and catch up on the debate fallout. But I realized in about 15 mintues that my computer needed its charger cord. So I stealthily crept back into the executive suite to grab the cord, hoping not to disturb Mistress's beauty sleep.....

Oops.  Apparently Mistress was awake too, with the cord from Mr. H (her Hitachi) already snaking it's way under the covers.

"You were gone, Slave.... and I was horny. What else is a Mistress to do....."

Well I felt pretty guilty. I had clearly dropped the ball, being too focused on whether Newt would be in the smiting or rope-a-dope mode last night.

"Would you like me to leave you to your own devices here Mistress, or provide some assistance...."

Mistress made it clear that she expected me to "wade in", and I did, letting Mistress lay back as I deployed her favorite power tool for a couple of worthy cums. She then gave me permission to deploy my own hardened tool, which I did with gusto.

And while all those developments may have delayed this morning 's posting a bit, believe me, it was worth it.

Now what about today's title, you ask.  roll the clock back a bit to last night, as Mistress reviewed her facebook page....


"Oh My Slave", she exclaimed, also with much gusto, "I got a message from Dave ------".

(Remember him, the hunky ski patrol dude who has the record for Everest Summits that Mistress fawned over last week.... while we were "On the Lam".)

Mistress had strategically waited until our return to reach out, send Dave a mention, and mention her encounter with him.  His response was particularly warm, and he mentioned that she should have "slapped him upside the head" to remind him that she was also one of his "facebook friends".

'More slapping, Mistress?"

The reference brought to mind a conversation Mistress had a few weeks back with a guy who seemed interested in being Dommed.

"He said he was into the idea of me riding his cock, and slapping him across the face.... presumably at the same time, Slave...."

Hmmm..... of course I like the cock riding idea, but the slapping?  Not necessarily on the same page with that myself.

But it did remind me of that Californication episode and the book on the series it spawned .... "Fucking and Punching".  The too young girl riding Duchovney's cock, and punching him hard in the face as she came.  Kind of hot for Cable.

Is this some new trend?

"Mistress.... do you think Dave is sending a signal there.... that he wants someone to slap him around during sex?"

"We may be getting a little ahead of ourselves, Slave....."

Could be.  But it is intriguing.

Mid Morning Graze

This morning, Mistress has one of those 7:30 am "power breakfasts" at the local club where River city poo-bahs meet in a hushed and genteel setting before heading out to do their jobs of accumulating wealth for their families and stockholders.

Of course that means that old Mick will be performing livery service this am, and that there was no AM sex on the menu here at UCTMW World HQ. Not even time for me to do this blog and present it to Mistress during our ritual morning worship session. Soon we'll be heading out into a cold rain.

Yuck.

But while waiting for her to complete her primping, I have a brief moment to send off today's dispatch.

Fortunately, it was not that way here yesterday AM. Slave was given amply opportunity to have his way with Mistress after she was suitably pleasured, while the cat again sat on my back, presumably making notes on my technique.

And yesterday, at around 11 am there was a little bonus opportunity.

Mistress had a client meeting in my building, so surprised me with a little drop by.  She scolded me a bit on the disheveled nature of my business. But it did not take me long to clear one chair, slide it against the door, and drape a nicely absorbent blanket over the seat, And because Mistress had on those ubiquitous peek-a-boo tights, to match her black boots and black cashmere dress, no dis assembly was required. Mistress simply hiked up that dress and spread her lush and shapely thighs, and Slave  fell to my knees and used my eager tongue and lips to stoke Mistress's  fires.  Sooner than I would have liked my work was done, Mistress was suitably pleased, and off to her next engagement.

Giving new meaning to the term "Lickitisplit".

Re-Callibrating in River City

Yes, it's only a two hour time shift from the Mountain Hideaway back to the gloom of the heartland. But it seems like Mistress and her loyal Slave have had a little harder time than normal getting back in the saddle here in River City.

We even had an unscheduled abstinence day yesterday, at least for Slave.. By the time I had driven back and forth to our flat as a pancake state capital for a meeting, and reunited with Mistress here at around 7 pm for dinner, my body was way past the point of yearning for sexual satisfaction.

But of course that did not mean that Mistress was neglected. Yesterday morning, after I lumbered up the stairs in a groggy state, I persuaded her to let me worship those clean shaven folds as she read Donna's post.

But the odd thing is that our 2 cats - who apparently missed Mistress in her absence - were undeterred by this morning intimacy. One of them (who knows which one, they both look alike to me), decided to park on my back and shoulders as I buried my head between her thighs, doing what a good slave does.


It seemed odd to have this large breathing mass perched on me as my lips and tongues worked at their task.

Afterwords I had a suggestion.

"I think the cat was jealous Mistress.... she wanted in on the action...."

"Yuck".

"Seriously, maybe we can train her to fill in when I'm not available.... a little tuna fish smeared down there could help with the training....."

"That's disgusting Slave....."

Maybe so. Sounds like I don't have to worry about being made redundant.

And last night, as Mistress and Slave were getting ready to watch the State of the Union address, I had another opportunity to show my devotion.

"What's say we turn down the talking heads a little and I give you a little pre-SOTU worship, Mistress."

"That sounds much better than more of Rachel and Rev. Al, Slave...."

Maybe we could all benefit from that sort of break from instant analysis.


(My apologies to Donna for expropriating the "cute cat pictures" for this rather lame blog).

We're Baaaack.... and so is Our Senior Correspondent

Mistress and Slave are back in River City, and the lights are back on here at UCTMW.  Suffice it to say that it's been hard to adjust to the gloom and dreary routine after 10 days of skiing and relaxing out in our high desert hideaway.  .... Let alone the time shift. Thankfully, Donna stepped up to the plate and came up with this contribution to get us rolling again.And it's particularly timely in light of the Junior Senator from Kentucky's hissy fit yesterday because he had to submit to the same TSA "indignity" as lowly everyday travelers such as ourselves. My sweet Bill likes to keep me up to date with technological advances, especially those having to do with security. I received an email from him recently that I found somewhat disturbing. Here it is: Anti-Theft ID Breakthrough: For people who become stressed when asked to prove their identities by biometric scans of fingerprints, hand prints or eyeballs, Japan's Advanced Institute of Industrial Technology has developed a chair frame that authenticates merely by sitting down: a butt-scanner. Professor Koshimizu's device produces a map of the user's unique derriere shape, featuring 256 degrees of pressure at 360 different points and could be used not only to protect vehicles from theft but also, when connected to a computer, to prevent log-ons by those with unauthorized posteriors. Great. You know the government will take the cheapest route possible on this and we're going to end up having some TSA person use an ink roller on our butts and have to make butt prints to get through airport security. Will those with bigger butts have yet another fee added for the price of additional ink needed to cover the larger territory? Or, you never know, TSA might make us sit on printers for a butt photo. I've actually made a few of those. But Bill assures me it will all be done with scanners and electronics.  I wonder, though, if a butt taser situation might develop with some snarly TSA person pushing a button that zaps the crap out of any butt in the scanning chair that doesn't match on the first try.  And then, the next concern that crossed my mind had to do with those of us who have some spanking action as a regular part of our lives. Would my butt scan be different pre and post spanking?  Bill says he thinks it might, depending on the heat generated and the impact marks.  Now I had an A-#1 spanking on Saturday morning. It was what Bill refers to as a multipurpose spanking. The bare handed portion of the program was to bring up the caboose of the UCTMW train on the Patriots/Broncos bet from the weekend before. The flogging part was to settle up with a whole list of words I wasn't suppose to say, like...well, I'm not even going to write them and risk that wrath again, let me tell you...and the third section, the cropping segment of the event, was supposedly for "good measure", whatever the crap that means. But you know, it just didn't seem prudent to ask Bill for clarification mid-swing. Now, if I had been in a situation of going directly from the spanking to a butt-scanner chair, my butt would have been striped and much, much warmer than it usually is. In an office or airport situation, that could result in alarms going off and teams of hot men running to me, insisting I drop my panties so they could get an up-close look, and maybe even photographic evidence. Okay, leaving the fantasy of the hot guys behind, now I have concerns for those people who sit on the commode reading a book for ages and end up with a red ring on their rumps. Bad enough they risk hemorrhoids, but wouldn't that red ring interfere with an accurate butt scan, too? Maybe this whole butt scanning situation requires a bit more research before being put into practical use. Wouldn't you agree? Donna

Going Dark for a While

Mistress and Slave are heading West for about 10 days tomorrow. We are thinking that it will be an hiatus without the blog for a change. So we've turned out the lights here at UCTMW.

Those of you who have pre-clearance can access things. For those that don't ... well, they'll will know how the followers of Riff Dog feel, who takes those long breaks between posts.

So, until weturn things back on..... enjoy!

Peek-a-Boo Tights Meet Leather Seats

Mistress had several places to be yesterday morning, so we drove to work separately. At around 9 am she called me, after leaving the dentist, and on the way to a breakfast meeting.

"Slave.... I'm wearing this skirt today with the big slits...." (It's black, of course, and has several long flaps that look quite modest as she walks around but can separate when she sits).

"Yes,,,, you look nice in it, Mistress."

"Well when I sit on these leather seats, those pleats part, and my "parts" rub up against the leather seat with these peek-a-boo tights on..."

"How's that feel, Mistress?"

"It's a little.....ummmm.... sexy, Slave....."

"Makes you horny?"

"Makes me think about sex, Slave...."

"Oh, poor you...."

After work we met up at a local captain of industry's home, for a reception for a state wide official that Mistress met several years ago. She's a charming woman, and she and Mistress shared a private lunch together back in 2010 before she was quite well known.

Of course, sometimes political poo-bahs easily forget the folks they met along the way. But this woman immediately recognized Mistress, giving her an affectionate hug.

The lady looked at me and shared words of wisdom.

"Mick.... you must have a wild and crazy life with this beautiful lady....."

We shared a knowing look.

"I couldn't agree with you more", I said.

"If  you only knew....", Mistress added.

Afterwords we got home,   I made sure that the first order of business was to relieve Mistress of all that undischarged sexual tension that built up from her clean shaven folds sliding to and fro across those soft leather seats.

"You must have suffered terribly today, Mistress...."

Malled

Poor Mistress.

Due to some problems with her relatively new laptop, she had to spend way too many hours at the local mall over the weekend at the Apple Store. Our whole family has been hooked on Apple for many years. I can't even count how many table and lap-top computers we've bought over the years. Then there are the I-pods, and I-phones. Our kids seem to go through those all too quickly, so Mistress has gotten used to working the system at the Apple Store to fix and (often) replace products on the fritz.

Somehow she talked the folks at the Apple Store over the weekend to replace her 3 month old laptop with a new one because the spacer key was not working. Of course, that also required moving all her "stuff" from her "old" computer to the brand new one.

And that doesn't happen instantaneously.... so last evening Mistress and Slave had to go back to the Apple Store one more time to pick up that new computer with all of the important stuff (you know, pictures of the WC's special occasion cock) moved onto it. 

Now Slave does not do well in Malls.  They may be the one place that clearly raises my blood pressure. And this Mall is a real monster. There were the people lined up to force feed at the Cheese Cake Factory (is there any less appealing name for a restaurant?) the packed parking lot (why are folks packing a mall two weeks after Christmas?) and all the usual suspect merchandisers (do people still buy stuff at Eddie Bauer).

And the Apple Store was absolute chaos. Didn't those places used to have a soothing Jobsian feel to them. Cool people looking at cool stuff with cool helpful (if geeky) staff to help you?

Now the place is filled to the rafters with cranky consumers, arrogant staffers specializing in putting you off, all attached to an I-pad to explain you are too early or too late for your appointment.

It was driving me crazy. So I adjourned to the "Mall-way" with my Times and let Mistress struggle with the Apple-acracy.

Mistress was not pleased, either about my disappearing act or my sarcasm.

"I'm a little tired of your grousing, Slave."

Nonetheless, Mistress was pretty indulgent when we got home. We deferred dinner to allow for some worship, and then some robust end of the day sex in the Executive Suite. Of course, Mistress kept those special peek-a-boo tights on, which presses some buttons for me.

But it became clear that a punishment is coming.

"I'm glad we have that riding crop in our  Mountain Hideaway, Slave....  because it's going to be put to good use...."

Oops.

Wager Redoux?

Mistress and Slave were sitting around the house last evening at around 8 pm. She'd been working way too hard all day, on an emergency project for work. Slave had done some work too, painting our basement to cover up some ugly wall colors from the prior regime.

Mistress was bone tired, but I asked her indulgence to watch the end of the Steelers vs. Broncos game, which had suddenly become much closer. Around these parts, the dreaded "Stillers" have well earned, if begrudging respect.   So the fact that they were finally taking the bloom off the Broncos early lead was no big surprise in my living room. And as the game headed into overtime, with momentum belonging to the lads from Pittsburgh, it seemed inevitable that the ending would be "same old, same old", with the Steelers smugly advancing.

To induce Mistress to stick around until the bitter end, I even fell to my knees during a commercial break to lavish Mistress's clean shaven folds with the attention they surely deserved after so many hours in front of a computer monitor.

But as what could have been a lengthy and tedious overtime began, Mistress announced she was heading up to the Executive Suite, and expected me to join her promptly.

What happened next?   On the very first play of OT, the Steel Curtain defense suddenly parted, not unlike that biblical sea as Tim "The 2nd Coming" Tebow stepped back to pass. And the receiver he found wide open down field sprinted into the end zone, to end the game and set up a date in New England with the All Mine home team.

Of course, I knew our Western Correspondent would be following the game - either in person, or in the lavish media room he had built with his company AmEX card at the plush UCTMW Mountain Zone HQ.

And suddenly I realized that the wager we had left in the dust the day before, was resurrected, but with a different team carrying the UCTMW banner.  With the WC's involvement, couldn't the UCTMW staff bet the farm -- or at least something amusing - on the outcome of Saturday night's game with our counterparts at All Mine?

In a series of text messages, the WC encouraged us to go for it. "I think Molly wants to lose that bet anyway.... and I know you'd love to take orders from Suzanne for a weekend."

Is that the sort of trash talk you want to share when setting up a Mega-Wager?  Where's your testosterone, WC?  Don't you think Jesus will come through again for your beloved Donkeys? And aren't you willing to put a little personal skin in the game? At least an orifice?

So are the folks at All Mine  willing to consider a wager that involves not a game between the bad luck Bengals, who were sure to lose against the mighty Patriots, but a game against the Tebows, who seem to have the Lord's terrible swift sword in their offensive arsenal when things get tight?

Game on, Suzanne?  Or do you need to pray on it?

Bungled

Well, friends, those of you who were following the NFL play-off games yesterday now know why Slave was looking ahead. I wanted to blog about the possible stakes if our local pussycats made it to the 2nd round against All Mine's team before my chance dissipated.  As a long suffering student of local football lore, I had a feeling that yesterday morning would be my last chance to  toss out the prospects of our provocative bet, and get everyone's anticipatory juices flowing.  And sure enough, all is now moot: our team played a feisty game through 28 minutes of the first half, but then gave up a costly interception for a TD, that turned out to be the winning points of the game.

So the folks at ALL Mine don't have to worry about the delicate task of deciding which of our offers to accept, or come up with terms even more salacious as an alternative.

Mistress does not follow football with much interest. But as we sat with some friends watching the 2nd half yesterday, she seemed unusually curious about the outcome. Whatever smutty fantasies she was having about a possible close encounter with Jay's TC were receding before her, sort of like the American Dream at the end of the "Great Gatsby".  Ah, well, Mistress..... there's always next year.

And the bad news for Suzanne, Jay and Tammy is that the Patriots may now have a far more formidable opponent to face next Saturday night.... Though I suppose there is a slight possibility that our Western Correspondent's favorite team, (AKA Jesus's Team) may face the lads from New England at some point in these playoffs. Maybe we can somehow involve him in a wager with Suzanne?  If so I suggest that Big Blackie play a prominent role.

In focusing on yesterday's potential Wager, I skipped over a rather bizarre incident here on Friday morning.  Mistress had an early morning, 7:30 am  breakfast meeting at a little restaurant just a few blocks away in our antiseptic little community.  She was typically costumed for work - black dress, those special black  tights, and black boots too. I  kissed her goodbye, with plans to pick her up in an hour for our commute to work.

But barely 5 minutes later, as I was frying some eggs for a little breakfast of my own, the phone rang:

"Slave.... you need to come down here now.... I've been detained by the Police..... for jaywalking...."

Arggh.    I knew I shouldn't have given Mistress that sudaphed to help cure some sniffles.It ahd clearly given her a little extra "edge".

Turning off the stove, I grabbed a jacket, and jumped in the car for the short drive to the "crime scene".  Sadly, when I arrived there was no yellow tape, but there were two police cars with blue lights flashing, slowing traffic as drivers rubbernecked to see what was up so early in our normally tranquil little town.

Mistress was in a rather heated discussion with a Sergeant who had been called to provide "back-up", apparently because Mistress had become a little pissy when she was told she had to  stand on the sidewalk, or she would be taken into custody, rather than step inside the adjoining restaurant for her breakfast meeting.

I think what annoyed Mistress the most was  that the rather large and bullyish officer who had stopped her had demanded to know "what her business was" in the neighborhood, when in fact she had grown up here. I mean, should you have to explain why you are stepping into a restaurant at breakfast time?

In any event, I urged Mistress to exercise her right to remain silent, and tried to engage the Sergeant in a little snappy patter, as the apprehending officer took about 15 minutes to confirm that Mistress was not a fugitive from justice or an illegal immigrant, before issuing her the jaywalking citation.  And after she was released, the crowd inside the restaurant gave her a round of applause for surviving this display of overwhelming force by our local Keystone Kops.

All of this was a little disturbing at the time. Plus my eggs were getting cold.

But afterwards we did have a bit of a chuckle. 

"Mistress, you came close to getting taken into custody.... and before they slipped you into the holding cell, they probably would have gotten a matron to do a full body cavity search....."

"You don't think they would have done that, do you, Slave?"

"Absolutely..... but at least it would have been convenient to do the search.... after all, you had your peek-a-boo tights on."

I think from now on Mistress will think about what she's wearing before she walks against a  "Don't Walk" signal.

The Wager

As those who follow our blog and All Mine know, a potential confrontation is brewing in the NFL Playoffs: our local pussycats will play the All Mine crew's favorite team, the New England Patsies, if (and it's a big if) our team can beat the Houston Texans this afternoon.

Of course, any NFL player has been brainwashed to say you must take "one game at a time". It's absolute heresy to be publicly acknowledging that there may be another  game on the horizon that could be a whole lot more interesting. But then again, this Irishman would never have cut it as an NFL player anyway..... and if we don't write this  blog today, well...... it could be years before we can discuss some comparable wager with our friendly competitors in sex blogland.

Last night, after Mistress rode my cock to several rather dramatic cums, we walked down to our local watering hole. On the way, I brought up the topic of the wager.

"We could go vanilla, Mistress.... wager them a week at our Mountain hideaway against a week at Suzanne's New England lake house."

"That would be nice, Slave.... but a little out of character, don't you think?"

"I suppose so....way too bland for a sex blog.... How about this....if our pussycats win, you get to ride the trophy cock?"

Mistress always seems to derive her best cums in the female superior position.... doing it with Jay's legendary Trophy cock would certainly make her toes curl.

"Ahhhh..... now you're talking, Slave.... but only if Suzanne is cool with it."

"Of course, it;s up to her to agree to the terms..... but what if the pussycats lose.... what would they get?"

We tossed this one around a bit. A bet that Jay would get to take Mistress in any way he saw fit would be a little too "tails Mistress win, heads she wins too", wouldn't it?  Plus what would Suzanne or Tammy get out of such a wager?

"How about this Mistress.... we go visit them and act as their Subs for the weekend.... Suzanne keeps alluding to her hankering  for a female sub.... and maybe Tammy could use a couple of days relief from the household chores...."

"Ahhh..... that sounds reasonable Slave.... as  long as you don't have to wear any diapers.... I'm really not into that....."

So there you go.... that's our proposal Suzanne, Jay and Tammy.... let's see who wins this afternoon's game, and then let us know what terms you would prefer.. I'm not too worried about spending a weekend washing Suzanne and Tammy's lingerie while Mistress takes on more intimate duties.... at least not yet.

Preview of Cumming Attractions

It's been too long since Mistress and Slave have spent time at their Mountain Hideaway. Work  and the Co-Ed's college schedule has kept us tethered to the UCTMW World HQ through the holidays. But next Thursday, barring some unforeseen disaster, we will be heading West for about 10 days for some skiing and R&R.

Who knows, we may even have company. The WC and his wife B have an open invitation to come down and visit. We promise to show them a "good time".

Last night, as we were having a long, slow and luscious session in the Executive Suite, Mistress asked what is a typical question here from the Publisher, "So what are you going to write about tomorrow, Slave?"

Typically, if I already have some ideas on the next day's edition, I am a little coy. But last night I asked her for some advice.

"Not sure, Mistrsess. Any ideas?"

"How about some pictures from our Mountain West HQ, to show folks what we might be up to?"

Slave never disregards Molly's advice on editorial policy. So here are a few shots of our Mountain activities from the UCTMW archives.

 No doubt there will be snow at this time of year where this photo was taken, but it gives you and idea about the lovely vistas we will be seeing as we ski our local mountain.

While it's bound to be a little colder at 6500 feet this time of year than it was when this photo was taken, my guess is that Mistress will find a warm afternoon on our patio to catch some sun.

But let's not fool ourselves, there will be some snow too!

The Therapist

Very early yesterday morning, when Mistress and Slave were engaged in a pre-dawn sexual marathon, we got talking....

For us, a little verbal speculation and story telling adds fuel to our considerable fires... and no one has ever been indicted for being a sexual arsonist, right?

Somehow, the evening before, we had discussed a therapist I had visited with in our pre-contract days, when we were trying to patch things together after Slave's "indiscretion". She was a wise, grandmotherly type, who did a good job of cutting through my BS in a non-judgmental way, holding up a mirror so I could see with clarity why I had "stepped in it", at the peril of my own well being and my most important relationships.

But when this conversation was revisited the next morning, as I grazed on Mistress's clean shaven folds, and she gripped my engorging cock, it was  re-imagined with Mistress in the role of a different sort of therapist.

(Have we mentioned here that Mistress has an MA in Psychology?  She's never used it as a therapist or counselor, but maybe some day....)

"I could see you playing that role, Mistress.... but with a twist..."

"How so, Slave....."

"Well.... maybe as a "last chance" option for wives  to bring their wandering husbands...."

By now I'm teasing a nipple, and Mistress's grip on my balls and cock is tightening.

"And how would that work?"

"Naturally, there would be waivers signed... to cover any potential claims arising from your unconventional, experimental approach...., both by the husband and the wife."

"Of course, Slave.... but go on."

It was around this time that Mistress instructed me to retrieve her Hitachi.

"Your approach would be a complete mental re-conditioning, Mistress....some hands-on retraining that would turn the miscreant husband  into someone who longs only to worship his mate, the way I worship you....."

At this point Mistress had become a little distracted by the powerful tool engaged at the juncture of those well conditioned thighs. But she was still trying to focus on the story.

"And how would I do that Slave?'

'Well it would have to be very interactice..... That first session would end with him between these thighs, discovering the convenience of your peek-a-boo tights."

"And after that?"

"A cock cage of course.... with two keys.... one for you, and one for the wife...., a very disciplined approach to when, where, how and with whom your patient could cum."

"What if the wife was not into this sort of thing....."

"I suspect you would have to train her some to, though some women would probably be more than happy to delegate the 'dirty work' to you....."

"You mean the ass fucking, Slave...."

"Exactly...."

Somewhere, at around this point in the story, there was an intermission, and Mistress thrashed and moaned her way through a rather intense cum, and demanded that I  fuck her.

And the story was set aside, as I eagerly followed her explicit instruction.  But I'm thinking we may need to resume this story line in a few moments, after I shut down the laptop.

But, 'Nilla, feel free to flesh this one out. (I guess there could be a gender reversal too.)

Re-Emptying the Nest

Busy day here in River City.... Mistress and Slave headed back to a new year of work. And Slave had the duty of returning the cute Co-Ed to her campus digs later in the afternoon.

Fortunately, I was fortified with an early afternoon drop by in my office. Mistress had been to a business lunch at that stuffy bastion of the local business poo-bahs, so was dressed rather conservatively, long hair up, black suit, the standard black tights and boots. 

But as she settled into her throne it became obvious that she was still in those peek-a-boo tights, giving her Slave easy access to those clean shaven folds.

After she was appropriately satisfied, her Slave was off to pick up the Co-Ed, driving her and a friend to their campus, about an hour away.

Both of us were home at about 6:30 pm, "missing" our lovely daughter, but also relaxed and ready for some private time. I made sure to start things out with some more bedside worship, after Mistress stripped off that business dress and settled back on the bed.

The rest of our evening was indulgent - at least for me: reading the paper, watching the coverage of that zany Iowa caucus, salivating over the bloodletting to come as the Tea Partiers eat their young.  Mistress was busy on a work project, but the ambiance was casual. I heated up some Chili Mistress had made Sunday for our post football game dinner.

We also did a little internet shopping, following up on some tips our readers had left the other day when I made it known that we needed some replacement accessories for Mistress's strap on.  I screened the recommendations, then Mistress had some input.

We've focused on these two models:

This is the "SLIM JIM", as they say at EdenFantasies:

"If slim and slender is what you're after then try out this fantastic, realistically shaped dildo and its harness compatible base. Made of high quality silicone, this wonderful piece is completely hypoallergenic and latex free, providing safe and healthy play in and on the body. The soft and smooth silicone makes for comfortable insertion and penetration while the flexible but solid body creates lifelike sensations for incredible stimulation..."

I kind of like the "Slim" part of the description.

The other one is a little higher end and tricked out in a way that Mistress finds intriguing:

This is the feeldoe slim (you hear a theme here.... I don't think I want the feeldoe "hefty" or "more" just yet. 

Here's the marketing pitch on this little puppy:

"Made for a woman by a woman, the Feeldoe® is the world's only strapless strap-on and multi-use toy for adults, but that's just one of the many ways to use this unbelievably versatile dildo/strap-on.
Unlike other double dildos, the Feeldoe® is contoured to fit the body.
The bulb end is held inside the vagina by contracting the vaginal muscles, and the ridged portion creates friction during sex to arouse the clitoris..."

Mistress thinks we should get two. You never know whether another candidate for her strap on might show up at the door.

So.... after doing our shopping, and falling to sleep with the not so dulcet tones of Rachel Maddow and Chris Matthews in our ears, it should come as no big surprise that Mistress woke up a little earlier than normal. And when that happens there are certain needs that must be met.

Suffice it to say there was oral worship, some fucking through the aperture of those black tights, a then a lengthy resort to the Hitachi Magic Wand.

"I think I am becoming an addict to this Slave...."

"Not a problem.... it takes a little stress off of my tongue and jaws.... that's why we were given the mental chops to make tools, Mistress. It distinguishes us from lower forms of life...."

Kink Nest?

Yesterday's little bonus holiday was a good excuse for Mistress and Slave to loll about the house, after our wake-up sex and a trip to the gym. The cute Co-Ed was still here - she heads back to College this afternoon - so we still had to keep our "activities" behind closed doors in the Executive suite.

And there was some "down" time spent there yesterday afternoon, before dinner at the Mother Domme's house. A little nap turned into a hot session that started with Slave worshiping those clean shaven folds, moved to Slave deploying the Hitachi for a long drawn out mega-cum for Mistress, and concluded with Slave begging for permission. Fortunately, Mistress was in a benifecent mood.

Somewhere along the way, we got talking about a older home in the University section of River City that we own. It was where Slave hunkered down during our commuter days, and we've been renting it for the last few years. Late last week the tenants called to say they were re-locating, so Slave has been doing his best to look for a new tenant ASAP.

But that got us thinking.... maybe a better use would be as a kinky little love nest, available for Mistress for the occasional steamy liaison, and also rented out for short term engagements for discrete and discerning clients. It's an old Coach house, with lots of exposed beams, high ceilings, etc. So it does not take much imagination to contemplate it as a romantic getaway for select individuals looking for a fully equipped dungeon.  Maybe Donna can help us consider how such a facility might be furnished based on her experience at La Domain a few months back.

And who knows, maybe through Craig's List we could find a supplier of a slightly used Stocks,  whipping post, or other suitable equipment to trick the place out for kinksters in need of a temporary club house.

So readers, do you think there would be a market for such a "facility" here in River City, or should I just look for some vanilla tenants?

Mick Needs Some Shopping Tips.

Mistress was unusually insatiable yesterday.... the marathon session to ring in the new year had fried this aging Slave, but my cock was called into service one more time early yesterday morning, when Mistress woke and paged me to join her in the executive suite. Fortunately, my Pavlovian response to Mistress's lush body. heavenly skin  and heady aroma kicked in once I slid into bed next to her, overcoming my bleary eyes and befogged New Year's morning head.

And somehow, she wan able to intrance me sufficiently to  forget that it was our Switch Day.....how did that happen?  I think it was a little bait and switch on her part. At first we had to move quickly for our wake-up sex, because of plans to go to the gym for an early am spinning class.... But once I had delivered a few orgasms, one with the Hitachi still sitting beside the bed from the night before.... our plans had changed, and we decided to go for a bike ride in the unusually spring like weather here in River City.

Clever, Mistress, very clever.

After our bike  ride, we hunkered down into some household tasks. I dismembered our Christmas tree, while Mistress worked at her computer to handle some work overhang. Then I visited my cranky mother. We regrouped in the Executive Suite for a little power nap, before I headed with our daughter downtown to watch our Pussycats back themselves into the Play-offs, through an assortment of fortuitous events that suggested Jesus had missed the exit to Denver. 

This strange set of developments could set up the mother of all cross blog wagers if the UCTMW home team ends up playing the All Mine home team in round two.  I'm all ready considering the stakes.

Because the game had been shifted to late afternoon, the cute Co-Ed and I did not make it home until around 8 pm. Mistress had a glass of wine in hand, and had made her signature chili to warm us.

But she did have a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

"Did I miss something, Mistress?"

As my questioning proceeded, I discovered that Mistress had put her trusty Hitachi to use one more time.

"There it was, plugged in next to the bed, Slave.... it was hard not to put it to proper use."

One thing we did discuss yesterday was the need to acquire a new "accessory" for Mistress's strap-on. Actually, maybe two. You never know when an additional Slave might come along, and I guess it would be a little tacky to share.

As you can see from the attached illustration, our's is a little shopworn. And there's another problem.

"I think you're ready for something a little more substantial, Slave.... you've skated along with the trainer size long enough".

We had gotten a big pink one as a promotional consideration from Eden Fantasies a few months back, and while it worked well when Mistress deployed it on DiDi during that wild and crazy "Home Cumming Weekend", its a bit too soft and flexy for my tighter little aperture.

So here is the question..... are there any suggestions from our readers on where to look and what to look for when I follow Mistress's directions to find something more worthy of her strap-on?

Please let us know.... 

New Year's Greetings From Our CEO

The Ol' Slave is  a little bleary eyed here at the UCTMW World HQ this New Year's Day morning. 

Our New Year's Eve consisted of a tranquil dinner with some friends, and a resolution to be in bed well before the big bright ball dropped. Consistent with those plans,  we had taken good care of our New Year's Eve sex by some gratifying  action  before leaving home at around 8 pm....

But....things got a little out of control as we settled into sleep, Mistress was still wearing those tricked out black tights of hers, and my dumb assed cock, sliding against her shapely ass, suddenly developed a mind of it's own.

"Press it into me, Slave", suddenly turned into "what is that back there, Slave.... are you getting hard for me."

I tried to play dumb, my brain telling me I was a little too tired and tipsy to do what my cock apparently considered to be on the agenda.  And it was certainly within Mistress's prerogative to pat it on it's little head, tell it to get some rest, and come back in the morning.  But, for reasons she will have to explain, Mistress was in the mood to take advantage of my weak and excitable flesh.

So what was going to be a good night's sleep turned into a marathon of  indulgence here in the Executive Suite, the details of which are as bleary as my morning head. 

I can recall Mistress using her molten lips to make sure I was suitable rigid for her, then riding my cock to several bed quaking cums. 

Then I was on top of her, getting oh so close when she stopped me at the edge....

"Get my hitachi, Slave.....I think I want that now...."

Arggh.

I fished it from its hiding place, and deployed it until Mistress was shuddering and sobbing with another mega-cum. But that only seemed to make her want her cock even more, and it seemed we fucked long into the night, with Slave in that "wanna cum, wanna stop, can't stop, can't cum" state of suspended sexual agony for what seemed like forever....

All of this crazy was fed by some strange fantasy we were both riffing on about a local restaurateur that has been flirting with Mistress lately. I won't go into the details, but it had to do with Mistress training him to be a suitable Slave.

Rest assured, at some point the agony / ecstasy cocktail finally spilled loose, with Slave begging for release, and Mistress giving her generous consent.

"Good way to start the New Year, Slave...."

I agreed of course. But the old line "that which does not kill you will make you stronger" also came to mind.

Now, here is the New Year's greeting Mistress wrote to share with all of you yesterday afternoon, before all this crazy started:

 

Happy New Year, Kinkster Family

As we cross into 2012, we celebrate our third New Year with UCTMW. (And bear with me, as this is a kind of a sappy and serious entry.) First, thanks to each of you for reading. Mick started this blog as a tribute to me and it has become part of this community in which we all exist. He rarely misses a day and I look forward to my morning read.

As you are each aware, I rarely write for UCTMW. I spend a large % of my workday writing and communicating. During my down time (except to Mick, kids and some special friends,) I tend to “shut down” the communications channels. Those of you who talk to Mick lots (Donna), know that I rarely make that phone appearance. I do adore you…just maxed at times.

We continue to enjoy the fun, play, banter and charge that is a result of this universe. On a real-life note, while Mick and I have been madly in love from May 1988 (and we did connect quickly – but I am that kind of action-oriented cuss—as some of you also know) and have had a highly healthy marriage (on all levels) – we did enter some challenged territory. Some in which he says we were never close to the edge – but I felt pretty off-balance.

We made some rash and necessary changes. I often have joked that we should really write a book about “how to save a marriage and why sex matters” and take it on tour. This would require our coming clean in public (and embarrassing our kids and parents) but frankly there is nothing that sounds more interesting to me.

It is true that Mick does not see others. If he has an itch – he is to ask my permission and then we will decide. I am ok with it as long as we are honest with one another. And it is true that I get to do whatever I want. Know though that (while I have exercised my rights) – I am careful and picky.

You have each – in your own sexy and smart ways – improved the quality of our lives. I am proud to be 48 and still at it  -- with little chance of stopping any time soon.

Remember that life is short and nothing is for sure. Enjoy and Happy New Year.

Love,

Molly