One Slave's Cure for Insomnia

Here at the UCTMW World HQ it was a particularly busy Monday. Mistress was out the door way too early for a bi-weekly meeting at a client's office. And Slave had some work to catch up with after a few days out of the office last week. By the time we got back to the HQ by around 6:30 we were both pretty bushed, and passed on the bike ride we had planned.

Of course, Slave did remember to offer to worship once Mistress stripped out of those work clothes and into a sexy olive green nighty. But once she had been sufficiently pleasured, there was no further hanky panky.

All of that might explain what happened at around 3 am in the executive suite this morning.  Slave had awoken, and I could sense that Mistress was awake too.

"I'm having trouble sleeping, Slave."

"What's wrong.... that's not like you."

(Typically, Mistress could sleep through an NFL football game.... while sitting in the stands. But then that's for our Pussycats")

"Oh... just some work stuff, I guess...."

I pondered what a good Slave should do under these circumstances, but quickly rejected the warm milk option. Just an old wives tale, and well.... it had been since Sunday morning for Slave.....

"Sex, Mistress?"

"Good idea, Slave....."

So Slave did his best to clear Mistress's mind of those festering work distractions with some attention from my lips and tongue to privide a little starter cum, followed by a good hard fucking that seemed to cure whatever had distracted her.

Now Mistress is sound asleep, and likely will be none too thrilled when I wake her at the appointed time this morning.

When Slave is Away, Mistress Will.....

Amazingly, Slave arrived home almost exactly when scheduled last night. Mistress tore herself away from a little neighborhood gathering, and I collected her at a little cul de sac up the hill from the UCTMW World HQ.

After a kiss across the console, I asked her how the party was.

"Lots of my high school classmates there....All the ladies wanted to know where Mick was, Slave....."

"I don't even know them, Mistress...."

"Yes, I know, but they seem to get all antsy when a woman shows up solo without her husband in tow....."

"Only if the woman looks like you Mistress...."

"Hmmmm.... that might be it....."

At home, Slave pored some wine, but it was not long before we adjourned to the executive suite to "catch up".

Mistress informed me earlier in the day that she had invited her former lover, Jay over for a salad of her making at lunch time, and naturally, I speculated what they had been up to since it seemed like I had not heard from her for a good block of time at mid-day.

"We chatted.... I made us a nice smoked salmon salad...."

"But did the clean shaven folds get attended to, Mistress....."

"No Slave.... but there was some making out on the couch after lunch.... very high school....."

"Sounds like he wants you. but he's confused....."

"Very confused, Slave...."

By now Slave had stripped away his travel clothes and was trying to make up for lost time, settling between Mistress's spread thighs and commencing the worship she surely deserved. The conversational thread was lost as I made sure she had a rousing cum before I asked for permission to break my long and torturous sexual fast.

When the dust settled in our bed, Mistress confirmed that she had not been fasting herself.

"In case they are curious, you can tell our readers that the Hitachi was put to good use in your absence,, Slave.... Mistress does not need to follow the 'no touch' rule...."

Certainly not.

We also laughed a bit about a message she had received from an AM suitor earlier in the day. I had noted it as her social secretary, and suggested she read it to.  It came from an "attached" male from an ex-urban town to our North, a place we sometimes refer to as Boehner-ville based on their Congressional representation and Tea Party mindset. This fellow had taken upon himself to send Mistress one of those tacky self portraits, using a bathroom mirror and clunky I-Pad in his hand to show her his "six pack", and had then sent an unsolicited soft core porn "story", as follows:

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I arrange a special room for something I have wanted to do with you for along time. You enter the room and we almost tear each others clothes off and soon we are standing together with just our skin seperating our two wanting wet and wanting bodies. Your sexy legs I have scene are a perfect complement to your sexy body. I take your hand and lead you into the bathroom with an oversized shower lined in marble. There are multilpe shower heads and as we step in it is like walking into a warm summer shower. I smile as I notice your beautiful body glisten in the water - you are so attractive! We lock in a long passionate kiss as the warm water coats our bodies. I feel your amazing curves against me and once again I am so turned on by you. I never want this to end. I spread soap over you shoulders and soon down to your breasts. I love them and my hands glide over and around them as I hear you begin to moan in approval. Your nipples are erect and I can tell you love it as I touch and pinch them. My hands drift to the rest of your body - spreading soap in my wandering hands on your glistening hot body. Your thighs are so smooth and as you move your legs apart my hands wander to explore the most sensitive parts of your body. We are both enjoying how I explore and touch your clit and suck on your nipples. Next, a surprise for you. I reach over and as we kiss I take a shower massage in my hand and hold it between your legs as the pulses of warm water stimulate you in pleasure as your clit approves as you moan. Our kissing is intense and the water continues to arouse you and excite you! As we kiss I tak my other hand and massage and pinch your nipples as the water contnues to excite the soft skin between your legs. The sensation after minutes and minutes of pulsing water, kissing, and caresssing lead you to the most amazing orgasm you have felt in years. The rush of feelings make you explode and we continue to kiss then embrace in a wonderful passionate moment.

Mistress was amused, but not too impressed.

"All those spelling errors Slave....."

"And a little confusion between "scene" and "seen".

We surmised that this fellow had this little tale in the can, and shared it with any woman who caught his eye. And although he did seem to have a grasp of basic punctuation, he clearly lacked the primal energy and twisted imagination of our Western Correspondent. 

"Should I bother to respond on your behalf to him, Mistress?"

"I don't think it's worth a response, Slave.... If I say something nice he'll just be encouraged to send more of that drivel. And it might be too mean to say what I really think.

Another bad sign for the AM crowd was an article we saw posted on Facebook last night, linked here. Top Ten restaurants for cheaters. 

The article purports to reflect a survey of AM users on where they might  share a meal as part of their illicit courtship mating ritual.  The gist is that it's best to use chain restaurants, which are a little larger and more anonymous. Steak houses like Morton's or Ruth Criss  are also conveniently located near downtown hotels for a quicky after the cheesecake. Fair enough I suppose, if unimaginative.  And sex on a tummy crammed with beef can be less than optimal. But at least those places  have some nice wines on the list and suitable lighting.

 

But some of the other places highlighted on the list: Cheesecake Factory. Outback Steak House.  Lobster House!

"Nothing says romance like 'all you can eat popcorn shrimp night' at Lobster House, Mistress."

"Ick...."

"But that free bib might come in handy afterwards in the parking lot, if your "date" expects a blowjob in the front seat after he treated you to that "fine dining"."

"Any guy who wanted you to meet him at Red Lobster would probably expect me to split the tab, Slave."

Maybe we need to find a more discerning pool of candidates for Mistress to select her next cuckold coupling from.

Slave Hoping to End His Drought Tonight

Slave is heading home this afternoon, as long as the furlough taxed air traffic controllers have enough attention to spare to my humble mini-jet back to River City.

As you might imagine, I'm getting a little horny while following the "no touch" rule imposed by Mistress. (I can already hear the cynical snickering from certain quarters).

I do feel a little guilty that she's been going without any worship or other sexual attention back at home. It's like I let her down as a social secretary on AM. Of course, there are some guys who continue to keep knocking on her cyber "door".

"Shane (the Witchita Lineman) keeps tecting me Slave.... he;s kind of sweet, and wanted to take me to lunch yesterday."

"Maybe throw him a bone and text back."

Ultimately, she must have relented, and said she might consider lunch next week.

"At least he's trying hard to impress, Slave."

"He knows you're worth it."

Mistress also had what she described as a  chaste dinner with her former lover Jay on Wednesday night, along with his son.  But he's still in his "I don't want to get too attached to you" phase.  A little bizarre, but Mistress still enjoys his company, even if it does not involve those marathon fucking sessions.

Here on the East coast, I've treated our younger cute Co-Ed to a couple of dinners, and had a little time to walk around, running into one of the characters that still haunts our friends in Boston:

It's a young Babe Ruth, watching over the new / retro stadium in his hometown. He's the guy the Red Sox traded for chump change to the dreaded Yankees all those years ago. Some say that unfortunate  trade triggered the "curse of the Bambino" that long World Series draught that only ended a few years ago, and now may be getting a 2nd wind. (I'm wondering if the Patriots might suffer a similar fate after unceremoniously dumping their over-achieving smurf-like receiver, Wes Welker?)

Fortunately,  even though Slave has gone without these last few days, I am optimistic that  I can count on my "drought" ending tonight, well short of the record set by the Sox...

Slave of the Road

Your managing editor is off this morning for a two day trip to the East coast, just in time to enjoy the fruits of sequestration. I mean who needs air traffic control? It's a threat to our freedom to fly wherever we want whenever we want, right?

It's been pretty rare for me to travel for work these last few years. I'm not used to leaving the warmth of Mistress's bed here at the UCTMW World HQ.  And last night, after some robust love making after a long day at work, Mistress brought up the subject of my cage:

"It's a shame I can't lock you away before you leave tomorrow, Slave.... I guess I'll just have to trust you to behave."

The problem is the steel cage that we have for such purposes would make the TSA go bonkers. I guess we could get a "travel cage", the less sturdy plastic kind, like we used to use. They tend to break, and pinch a bit more than our current model, but can make it through a conventional metal detector.

But what about those full body scanners?  Has anyone figured out whether a plastic cage pops up and gets the screeners all slack jawed when you "assume the position" hands overhead, waiting for the "all clear"? (I'm sure we'll hear from Suzanne on this subject.)

I also feel badly that I'm leaving Mistress to her own devices for the next few days. Despite my best efforts as her corresponding secretary, the pickings on AM have been particularly slim this time around. Of course, it may be that Mistress has been getting better at screening out the pretenders, posers and dorks than last fall, when she had her "Cougar Week" adventures.

She's decided to simply blow off the guys who fail to "court" her sufficiently. If you don't have enough energy to show a lady why you are interested before you bed them, then we all can imagine how they might behave afterwards.

Guys who have cock shots in their "private showcase", or send said photos unsolicited also get tossed.

Guys who don't bother to send a real message,  but just a "wink" or photo request are ignored to.

"I think they're just looking for something to wank off to, Mistress."

"Sad, but probably true, Slave.... they should just read the blog."

Mistress did get a text from the erstwhile 35 year old Latin Lover, wondering "how she was doing ", and asking if she'd like to meet for a drink.

"I think he still can't get over that you blow him off after he sent you those cock shots, Mistress."

He's a mucho machismo sort of guy who probably hasn't heard "No" much from women in his young life. So I suppose he's hoping Mistress will ultimately succumb to his charms. At least once.

"I don't think I'm interested, Slave."

So Mistress may have to resort to the power tool while I am gone. Let's just hope we don't see too much of a spike in the electric bill.

A Quiet UCTMW Weekend

The time is ticking away on our empty nest here in the heartland. In just a few more weeks the cute Co-Eds will be back,  crowding out our privacy, messing up the kitchen, and demanding to know "what are we having for dinner".

So we've been hunkering down a little more than usual in anticipation of their return. Not much kinky going on here this weekend... but plenty of time in bed, reading, having sex, napping, a little more sex. You get the picture.

And no, we've not adopted a "go green" approach, WC. I rolled out the power tool yesterday morning to give Mistress an extra treat before she indulged her work-a-day cock.

We were glad to hear that things have calmed down in Boston for our friendly competitors over at All Mine. Let's hope that the team of state, local and federal law enforcers who did such a commendable job identifying and then taking out of circulation the bombers get some well deserved rest. Oddly, the "disaster" down in West, Texas, with a bigger body count, but not the drama of a manhunt has gotten much less attention.  A huge explosion of known bomb making material with no clear explanation? Too many dead first responders? Can't  you call that terrorism too? But the folks from CNN and the rest of the networks definitely had that story on the back burner. Is it because there are better restaurants in Boston?


Since we are a little short of explicit sexual content today,  make sure you read Sin's weekend entry at Finding My Submission. It's a "frank and comprehensive" catalog of things that turn her on. It left me wondering if this was a homework assignment from Big Bad, or just spontaneous human combustion.

Finally, getting back to Boston, here is an article from the Esquire ("lust during wartime") web site that was posted over the weekend (I found it on Facebook) describing the sexual implications of the big Boston lock-down on Friday.  It got me wondering if the town will see a big uptick in pregnancies nine months hence, like after the New York blackout a few decades ago.

Or were folks too busy watching TV to get it on?

Shelter from the Storm

Here in River City, a long way from the surreal, violent and unnerving developments in greater Boston, a lot of folks were riveted to their radios and TVs yesterday, rooting for the men and women trying to apprehend a young man who's profile seemed increasingly confusing as the day went on. Thankfully, their mission was ultimately accomplished with no more loss of life. It was a rare triumph for hard work and cool heads.  But back to River City....

After some bracing wake-up sex in the UCTMW executive suite, Slave went to work in his cage, after Mistress took the cues that some of our followers have been leaving for us in the form of "more cage time" comments these last few days.  I'm thinking maybe it's time I created a pay barrier for out comments section! At least then I might profit from the extra discipline you guys have been pining for!

But Mistress decided to "shelter in place" in solidarity with our friends in Boston. And it seems she was busy, despite the WC's entreaties that she spend some time getting reacquainted with her favorite power tool.

I got home at around 5:30, though I'll confess I was distracted through the day not so much by the hard steel containing Mistress's work-a-day cock, but by the drama unfolding on NPR and my computer screen. It was hard to imagine a great American city on lock-down through the day, as the Police, FBI and other responders tightened the noose.  The interviews with the suspects friends and family made the story all the more compelling, and confusing.

And of course, the media coverage was bordering on maniacal, depending on the source. As NBC disclosed that the two suspects had roots in Chechnya, CNN seemed to stick to their story that they were really time travelers from the year 2320. Either that, or that they had actually been arrested two days earlier. No doubt the frenzied coverage was cranking up the panic in lots of homes in the Boston area. We were thinking of our friends at All Mine, and hoping they were safely locked their home and taking full advantage of the day off.

But before Mistress and Slave returned their attention to the news, there was some business to be taken care of....

"How about some worship, Mistress?"

"Sounds like a good idea, Slave.... and if you do a good job, I might even take the cage off...."

You can bet I applied myself in earnest to the task at hand.

Gee, Thanks, Suzanne.

Mistress and Slave had one of those priceless empty nest evenings last night. We both snuck  out of work a little earlier, found our ways home and then took a nice bike ride on our hills and valleys before thunderstorms moved into the neighborhood.

Mistress had to leave the house early this AM, so there was a little pent-up sexual demand here in the executive suite to discharge before we settled into a little pre-dinner nap.

But when we woke, and before Slave grilled some chicken for dinner, Slave brought up the subject of the morning's blog and Suzanne's comment, bringing up her frequent theme in recent weeks.

"She's right, Slave.... maybe you do need more cage time. And since I'm staying home tomorrow, it seems like a good time to start."

So Slave's up this AM, with that tight metal ring already seated at the base of my cock and balls. At least there will be time for some wake-up six here before Slave goes into "lock-down" for the day.

Who says we don't pay attention to reader feedback?

Speaking of "lockdown", it's a little scary watching the news coverage from Boston this AM. We wish all of you well there, and hope you can hunker down and wait until the bad guys are off the streets. 

The word is "shelter in place". So Stay home. Sleep in. Have sex. Peruse the sex blogs. Let the professionals do their jobs.

Cuckolding meets Marketing

While Slave was slaving away over a legal brief back in my office, Mistress was across the street at an elegant downtown hotel, meeting an AM prospect over drinks early yesterday evening. He's someone who purports to come to town regularly on business, and something about his profile caught Mistress's eye.

"I'll see if there's a spark Slave. Then come over for some worship."

Now that's a plan.

When she did show up, I was buttoning down my brief (so to speak), and she had some interesting news.

"He works for that company involved in that controversial ******* deal. Slave! We spent a lot of time talking about that and the local politicians and judges involved in it."

As it turns out the brief was was slaving away on was directly on point - something I was working on for a local political committee with a point of view on the subject. And their POV was aligned with Mistress's "date's" employer.

I quickly had Mistress settled into her "throne", and she wriggled out of her black undies. Tights season is long over here in the heartland.  Soon she was focused on the tongue plying her clean shaven folds, and it seemed she enjoyed my devotions.

Once my work down there was done, I asked for her verdict on the guy we will call "Mr. Naptown".

"Not so sure Slave. He's a little boring. I told him that I would charge a lot of people for all the information I was sharing."

"Actually, it sounds like this guys company could use what you normally sell, Mistress."

"Don't think I wasn't thinking exactly that, Slave."

So while drinks with Mr. Naptown may not have turned into anything hot in the "between the sheets" category, it may be his employer could be a hot prospect for Mistress.

Who needs Linked-In when you have Ashley Madison?

Another Boom

The odd coincidence was that Slave was emailing with our competition over at All Mine when news broke about the Marathon bombing in Suzanne's neck of the woods.

One minute we were comparing theories on the potential compatibility of Shane, "The Witchita Lineman", and Mistress.

The next minute she was assuring me that both Tammy and Jay were well and accounted for. Thankfully.

But that wasn't true for her historic City and the victims of yet another senseless act of violence.

Of course, if you've been around as long as me, you know where things are headed when news like this breaks. The media rounds up the usual "experts" to toss out their speculations about what happened and why, the networks' glamor boys and girls hop on the private jets and line the sidewalks at the scene of the tragedy for their stand-up shots, preening in their "crime scene casual" wear, angling for ratings advantage. The pundits begin an endless round of speculation about who's to blame and the political calculus. Meanwhile the doctors and cops quietly  try to do their jobs under the harsh, prying media microscope.

We've seen it so many times.

The Laguardia bombing in the 1970's, The Atlanta Olympic Bombing, Oklahoma City, the mass shootings at Virginia Tech, Columbine, Connecticut, and of course the mother of all horrors, 9/11/2001.

Our reaction to that unimaginable act of terror led us blundering into Iraq and Afghanistan, and left a death toll that far exceeded the original tragedy. It also left us shoeless at the airport,  droning our adversaries and the innocents around them, and wondering whether the emails we send and phone calls we make are being dumped in some gigantic government data base.

The frenzy, fueled by social media and all those TV news outlets, make us believe we live in a dangerous time and place. They crank up fear, and foster crazy, whether the urge for some act of "eye for an eye" vengeance, or to turn the screws of "security" down another notch, further jeopardizing the freedoms we value.

But when you think about it, we live in relatively safe and stable times, at least those of us who live here in the USA, or in the "developed" world. We don't need to worry about the threats our ancestors faced in a world without today's medical science and technology: deadly influenza epidemics, "consumption", the wars of the 19th and 20th centuries that left millions dead. Even the aircraft crashes that left hundreds dead that were far more typical in the 1970's and 1980's. Mistress and Slave were both at a Who concert years ago where the death toll from a stampede for seats far exceeded yesterday's tragedy.

But these random, unexpected acts of violence like yesterday in Boston, particularly when amplified by the media frenzy, unnerve us all. They make us think twice about whether we can safely walk our streets, or attend the types of events - like the Marathon - that make our communities come together.

Let's hope that the survivors and their families are given the space and care required to recover as best they can.

Let's hope that they quickly find the perpetrators and make sure they can't do this again.

But let's also hope that our collective reaction to this horror does not once again disproportionately ratchet up the fear, the death and the "security" measures that diminish us.

Mistress and Slave Meet the Swingers

With her afternoon delight with Mr. Leprecock behind her on friday, you couldn't blame Mistress if she called it a night, and retreated with her pampered house Slave to the UCTMW World HQ for a little R & R. 

But as it turns out, she had arranged to meet a "gentleman" and his wife at a local downtown bar with her Slave in tow.

This was another guy who contacted her via AM. He noticed the part in Mistress's profile that says her husband is clued in on her extracurricular activities, and told her that he and his wife have a similar arrangement: but (unlike Slave) they both "play the field".  They talked on the phone the other night, and Mistress was intrigued enough by some of his stories that it seemed like a four way meet up might be entertaining.

Now this guy really isn't Mistress's "type". He is more working class hero than over educated "professional". He works for the local public utility, and we have started calling him the "Witchita Lineman" after that old Glen Campbell song.  We met him and his wife at a local sports bar he suggested, one of those places with wall to wall big screen TVs with Masters' highlights and the local baseball team clogging the plasma. 

(Of course, Mistress had a crash course on Masters highlights earlier in the afternoon, so she now was well aware of what a "leader board" was.  She knew that numbers like 5+ did not reference cock size).

Shane and Bridget are both in their early 40's, and we got to know them over some unhealthy food,  Guinness for me and a Chardonnay for Mistress.

We all shared some funny stories about our sexual adventures over the last few years. They've worked the local "swinger" scene, and we told them about our trip to the downriver dungeon with Aisha.  Mistress even shared the fact that her boredom at work that Friday had led her on a frolic and detour to the home of Mr. Leprecock only a few hours earlier.

Bridgett was tall and fairly attractive, but with a laugh that was a little scary, and made Slave want to suppress his trademark humor about half-way through our conversation. But when they told a story about she and a female friend getting it on with a strap-on at one of their "parties", I must say the thought of her buried between Mistress's legs piqued my prurient interest.

What became clear was that while both of them are free to indulge, Bridgett's been getting a lot more action than Shane, and Shane is not the type, like some of us out there, who necessarily gets off on the whole cuckold thing.

Shane was clearly interested in the lovely Molly, and moving this little party somewhere more private where he might be able to slide her out of her panties.

"If we didn't have a kid and babysitter over at our house, I'd invite you home with us right now."

Of course we had an empty nest, but I didn't notice Mistress suggesting that we adjourn there.

On the way home, Mistress acknowledged what was pretty obvious from the start. Shane was not the type of guy she would want to bed. A little too short. A little too goofy. Rough edges in the wrong places. But how to tell that to a perfectly nice guy we had a pleasant and entertaining evening with?

"If I did it it would be a sympathy fuck, Slave... I kind of feel bad that she's getting so much more action than he is...."

"I think you're beyond sympathy fucks, Mistress....."

On the other hand, we had fun with them as 2 couples sharing funny stories about our in-common kinks in a way we can never do with the boring folks we normally socialize with. That's good isn't it?

When we got home, there was the predictable text from Shane,  raving about how sexy he thought Mistress was, and wondering when they might get together again.... "how about tomorrow night.... LOL."

(Did I ever mention that Mistress wonders about guys who use LOL in the communications?)

So do we invite them over for a fun dinner at our house some night, while making it clear that this is not a door opener for Shane to get it on with Mistress?  Or do we simply cut things off all together?

Any thoughts, dear readers?

Leprecock

The hardest part of writing today's entry was picking a suitable headline to describe Mistress's odd discovery yesterday afternoon.

She had been out late for a client dinner Thursday evening, so our day started a little later than normal Friday morning, with Slave endeavoring to provide her some wake-up pleasure before we both headed off to work. She seemed to have a busy work day planned - more clients at lunch time, back to the office, then we would both "hook-up" at a local watering hole with a couple Mistress had discovered through her AM "shopping" in the last week.

So Slave was a little surprised to get a call around 2:30 pm at my office from Mistress.

"Slave.... you'll probably think I'm crazy but I'm going over to your fellow alum's house.... he's been badgering me to come by the last few days, and well.... I'm tired of working...."

"I guess that's better than 'shopping therapy', Mistress."

This was the guy she'd met for drinks Tuesday evening - The golfer who'd been on scholarship 20 years after I graduated. Mistress had shared a few of his cute, urgent and flirtatious sexts with me. He clearly wasn't inclined to wait until Tuesday night if he could persuade Mistress to drop by any sooner. But he had shown a respectful reserve - no cock shots taken via the bathroom mirror from this guy.

And apparently he was an effective salesman, unlike the erstwhile Latin Lover who she had kicked to the curb.

I made sure Mistress took at least a few safety precautions, including giving me his name and address. But it's hard not to trust a fellow alum, right?  ( At least he didn't go to USC.... or Boston College for that matter).

I suppose it was fortunate that Mistress had made these plans "on the fly", since otherwise, Slave would have been caged and a little more on edge than normal as I awaited her update.

And sure enough, she came back on the radar screen at around 4:45 pm, calling me as she drove away from her little suburban rendezvous.

"You won't believe this Slave.... his cock looks just like yours!"

"Hmmm.... so he's got the standard issue Fighting Irish equipment?"

"Exactly.... it was hard not to laugh...."

Well not that her work-a-day cock is laughable.... at least I hope. And it sure looks good when tricked out with one of those gold helmets!

"Ladies and Gentlemen.... the cock of the Fighting Irish."

I couldn't help but start humming the fight song.

After some office worship/clean-up duty behind my closed office door, I debriefed her further over a cocktail at a crowded downtown bar as we waiting for our meet and greet with Shane and Bridget (was this Irish Week for Mistress?).

"It was fun, Slave.... he's a nice, funny guy.... and we watched the Masters a bit. He's played that course and knew a lot of the players from his competitive days. Interesting stories."

"But what about the sex, Mistress....did he satisfy your needs on a Friday afternoon?"

"He did Slave.... I did some cock riding... and he had me suck his cock. Could you taste the cum on my lips?"

"Uhhhh.... no..... I guess I missed that....."

"And how does he rank so far among your lovers?"

"I guess he falls into the "OK... but not great" category, at least so far...."

"Could this be another one-and-done, Mistress.... that is so ND, at least in the NCAA Men's bracket".

I'm not sure Mistress got the allusion. She's not much of a basketball fan.

"We'll see Slave...."

'Then again, if the point of all this is to provide a little variety for Mistress, what's the point of doing it with a cock that's just like mine...."

"You have a point, Slave."

We'll save the evenings further developments with Shane and Bridget for tomorrow morning's post.

Iron Domme

Earlier this week as the news broke about the death of the former Prime Minister, Slave could not help recalling a song written by Elvis Costello back during her reign called "Tramp the Earth Down". It was a political protest song classic, written by Elvis Costello, with some stirring similes and metaphors. I mean how can you resist, "When England was the whore of the world, Margaret was her Madam".  The thrust was that the singer was only hoping to still be around on the day Margaret died so he could "tramp the earth down". ( In fairness to him, he did say he hoped she lived long....)

And the song was a particular favorite of my brother, a devotee of labor and Irish nationalism, who, sadly, did not live to see that particular day himself.

So it was natural that I thought of that old song, and posted it here (and on my facebook page too, btw) on Monday.

I did get a little pushback though, particularly from a commenter who labeled herself "Feminist", who suggested that the song and my posting of it  was just another example of  guys picking on a strong woman. Well, I didn't think of it that way: I sure admire other "strong women", including Mistress. And in the political realm, there's Golda Meir or Hillary to think of, who's grown on me over the last few years.

And I never thought of Maggie as a feminist. There is that quote in which she says "feminism is poison" that comes to mind. It seemed that she saw "equality" as the enemy of "freedom", and was famous for a cabinet where she was the only woman at the table.

Indeed, if there ever was a political "Domme" it would seem to be England's first female prime minister, who seemed to have a sadistic edge,  taking particular relish in belittling and humiliating her male opponents and colleagues. When she warned George H. W. Bush that he shouldn't go all "wobbly" on Saddam, wasn't that a a bit of public humiliation, questioning his manhood in an effort to get him to invade Iraq?

But in any event, I stumbled on a video yesterday showing that its not just the guys who have been throwing a little extra dirt on Maggie's grave these last few days.  Here is Glenda Jackson, MP's stirring Parliamentary Tribute to the Iron Domme from the debate over a proclamation in her honor. If you can, stick around for the pronouncement from the Speaker that she was not "out of order"

(Here is a link to the video: Glenda Jackson on Margaret Thatcher. )

So now that we've put her to rest, so to speak, let's move onto what is up with Mistress's current quest for a little outside entertainment.

As mentioned here yesterday, she had arranged an after work "date" with a somewhat younger fellow who disclosed in their correspondence that he had attended my alma mater., though 20 years after me. Small world!

I anxiously awaited news from my office on how her date was going, at a bar just down the street.  She ultimately texted around 6:30 pm that she was 'on her way". So what was the verdict?

"He was interesting, Slave... must have gone there on a golf scholarship. Had funny stories about golfing with Lou Holtz when he was being recruited." Of course, when I was there Ara Parseghian was the football coach and the game of golf had not yet been invented.

Enough of an impression was left that Mistress has arranged to see this young gentleman next Tuesday evening. And he was texting semi-salacious messages to her last night. So we will see how that develops.

"He's says he's not big on compliments, and is not all that open emotionally, Slave...."

"Yeah, sounds like your typical ND grad....but at least he recognizes his shortcomings."

"I told him no worries.....I am used to the whole Irish Catholic thing...."

In the meantime, there are two other potential suitors in the Q, awaiting that first "meet and greet". Once again this is getting a little crazy.

Stay tuned....

How Not to Use Your Work Email Account

A few things popped up yesterday worth sharing on any sex blog worth it's salt. Like this piece in the Washingtonian, about a sex scandal at the high priced Sidwell Friends' School in DC, where the kids of the rich famous and presidential have attended for decades, including the current first kids.

It's a tale of cuckoldry reminding us once again that if you are a school psychologist, it's not a smart idea to  use your  work email account to send salacious emails to the mother of one of the kids you are "counseling". Here's a choice passage to mull over:
 

During the course of the affair, Huntington [the school psychologist] sent a number of sexually explicit e-mails to Mehrbach [the mom] from his Sidwell account—sometimes in the middle of the workday. His e-mails, according to Newmyer’s complaint, graphically recounted their encounters, including oral and anal sex, role-playing, and “manic rubbing and touching when [Huntington is] under the influence.”

In a March 4, 2010, exchange excerpted in Newmyer’s complaint, Huntington e-mailed Mehrbach expressing his desire “to be busy with [her] body,” and when she called to discuss it but didn’t reach him, his follow-up e-mail explained why: “Your call enabled me to kick out some 8th grade girls from my room. They were winners from Twin Day, so they were eating their prizes in here and talking about male P.E. teachers that try to hit on them.”

At the time of that e-mail—and for much of the duration of the affair during the 2009-2010 school year—Huntington taught sex education to Sidwell sixth graders, during which time First Daughter Malia Obama was in the sixth grade. Typically, the class is mandatory for all sixth graders, according to former students.

In one of the e-mails included in the complaint, Huntington wonders whether he should discuss the affair with Newmyer’s daughter. “Do I talk about masturbating on your face or your marital situation with Terry . . . ? Decisions, decisions, decisions.”

It’s even better that somehow Bob Woodward and his wife are embroiled in this, trying to keep some of their own emails with the school off the public record. Is there a Deep Throat involved in this tawdry affair? And why couldn’t the Plaintiff have embraced his role as cuckold and let the good times role?

Then there was this other piece highlighting the return of Mad Men, a favorite here at the UCTMW World HQ: Mad Men Creator Sheds Light on Don Draper's SM Sex Drive. 

In the article the show's producer / writer ponders whether male slut Draper, a favorite of Mistress as the ultimate sexy bad boy, really craves a Domme who could rein him in and truly fulfill his need to be  under a strong woman's thumb. Maybe next season?

Finally, on a personal note, I better get upstairs for some wake-up sex with Mistress and determine whether or not this is a cage day. That was the original plan before Mistress cancelled her assignation with a certain LL, since kicked to the curb for the sin of hubris.

But it turns out Mistress has already refilled the day's dance card, arranging for an after work getting to know you drink with another potential suitor. What's odd about this one is that he actually attended Slave's alma mater, which came up when he shared a photo of himself in one of this ubiquitous ND shirts.  

Of course, it's unlikely we know one another since he graduated about 20 years after this aging alum.

What I did not confirm was whether Mistress wants her Slave caged for the day while awaiting reports on how things go with them. (And I know what some of you out there are already thinking.)

Catch and Release

Here in River City we've been reading with some amusement the comments and commentary from Suzanne and the WC that Slave should be relegated to more cage time and fewer cums. You can catch the drift here.

Of course, every Domme has her own management style. I suppose I am quite fortunate that Mistress has not adopted the "spare the cage spoil the sub" approach that some adopt. Usually, my "cage time" is saved for those days when we drive to work separately, or when Mistress has other particularlized security concerns. Or wants to make a point. As an example, the other night, when she had an early Saturday evening engagement with a potential suitor, she had me "cage up" as a bit of a tease, releasing me later in the evening. But she has never required Slave to sleep in the cage, which from my perspective can be danged uncomfortable.

(In a few months, Mistress is going on an exotic trip with her mother and our daughters to the Far East for 13 days. She has yet to determine what security measures will be in place then.....maybe we need to find a proper 'key holder'?)

As for caged worship.... you will be happy to know that on my "cage days" the routine is that I worship her prior to any release. In other words, whether I am released is typically contingent on whether I please her properly. That seems more than fair, doesn't it?

And we certainly try to maintain a imbalanced cum ratio here as well, whether Slave is in or out of his cage.  My guess is that it is an average of 3-1 in favor of Mistress, not counting when she is involved with another lover, and she has a larger edge.

Of course, some of you poor Slaves out there may be going days (or weeks) at a time without a little release.

Bummer.

Yes, I know I am overly pampered in comparison. But Mistress seems to adopt the approach that says keeping her Slave frequently "milked" of those excess bodily fluids keeps me a more docile and co-operative Slave. Yes, it is a little different, but vive le difference!

Speaking of other lovers, Mistress has decided to throw her potential "frighteningly hot" Latin Lover back in the AM pond. Over the weekend she did a little more due diligence and deliberation, and concluded that this one, though tempting, was not worth her valuable time and energy.

And while it is her call, certainly, I must say that as her counselor on such matters, I fully concur.

LL works for a large and well known locally headquartered consumer goods company. The same one where "Mr. Perfect Cock" and Nick, another dude you may recall from last fall works. Not like they know one another. It's a huge company. But they all seem to come from the same mold. After they make "the sale', they seem to lose focus and move onto the next prospective customer. Not much of a bedside manner, so to speak.

Mistress's sense of LL was that once she had agreed to meet him at our house for an intimate little get together tomorrow, he marked her as "sold" in his ledger and lost the energy that had made her even consider someone so young and otherwise not her "type",  Further, her investigation of him via linked in and facebook made her realize that he did not have much to share with her other than a 35 year old cock. (Not that there's anything wrong with that!)

The trouble with Facebook is that it can sometimes reveal a little too much.

Sure, some folks like guys with a "man cave" in their faux tudor ex-urban McMansion with three big screen plasma TVs on one wall. But Mistress's own bias is someone who curls up with a book now and again.

"There would be nothing to talk about after he fucks me, Slave", was the tone of her verdict on LL.

Not surprisingly, LL was a little disconcerted when he discovered he had lost the sale he already had booked. Let's hope he didn't post it for shareholders in the quarterly report.

"He'll get over it Mistress.... but you'll always be the hot cougar who got away for him.... a little humility could be good for the guy."

Mistress already has a couple of new prospects she was e mailing with last night to fill her dance card.

And the good news for Slave: I guess Wednesday won't be a cage day after all!

In Memoriam II

RIP: Pre teen crush fodder for those of us who came of age in the 50's.

Video Highlights from Annette's career

In Memoriam

Thatcher: Tramp that Dirt Down

Click on the link above for the song and slide show!

Date Night

Saturday is a traditional date night for Mistress and Slave. But last night....

At least not for Slave.

Instead, Mistress had arranged an early evening date with one of her prospects from AM. We'll call him the Chef, because he had that job a while back. (Ironically, his real name is Jay too.... how many Jays are there out there?) There seemed some potential for connection based on his profile, and Mistress decided to cut to the chase and meet him at a local bar / restaurant not far from our house, rather than engage in a long and tedious cyber flirtation.

 Suzanne will be happy to know that Mistress made clear what my status would be for the evening before she began primping for her  little date.

"I want you in your cage, Slave...."

"No problem, Mistress."

We were both a little grimy after a day outside... there had been morning sex, of course. And a bike ride. Slave did some of his "field slave" activities - mowing the newly burgeoning lawn. And Mistress had spent some time out on our deck, collecting some early spring rays.

So Mistress was showering before her date, and I joined her, taking along that nasty little steel ringthat forms the base of my cage. It is a little easier to smush my cock and balls through it under the arm water of our shower than otherwise.  Mistress watched the process with a little amusement.

"What an obedient Slave.... I'm glad I didn't have to remind you...."

Unfortunately, here was a little confusion about pre-date protocol, and Mistress called me on it as she applied her make-up.

"You didn't offer to worship, Slave...."

Oops.

"Well... I wasn't sure if it's good idea to take off your sexual edge before a date, Mistress...."

"Hmmmm.... " she gave a little snicker...."clever excuse Slave...."

Naturally, I offered to make amends for my oversight, but Mistress demurred....but she did make sure I was safely locked away and that I had turned over the key to the cage for her to conceal somewhere out of sight.

Of course, Mistress looked quite fetching as she left.... a summery black dress showing a tad of thigh, naked legs and sexy but not overly slutty shoes. And a turquoise scarf and some of her SW jewelry to add a little flash. I was sure the Chef would be impressed.

While Mistress was off on her date, I did our weekly grocery shopping, then sat down tow atch the Louisville / Shockers game... which sadly had an un-shocking ending. (At least we've avoided the All Big East Refugees Championship game.)  I did get a text from Mistress letting me know all was well, and then, towards the end of the game, notice that she would be home soon for dinner.

When she arrived home I poured her a glass of wine, and began our dinner, some gnocchi with a sauce of my own creation.

"He was nice Slave.... tall....we had a lot to talk about.... he seemed very interested....but I am not sure I am attracted to him. "

There's no accounting for chemistry, is there?

"He wants to take me to dinner this week..... we'll see."

So I would say the jury is out on the Chef.  Like my alma mater's boys team, he could be "one and done."

We settled into a couch with our gnocchi, then watched an episode of a show we'd been following. By then Mistress had stripped to a nighty. After we finished eating, her clean shaven folds became a bit of a distraction there on the couch next to me.... particularly since Mistress had not seen seen clear to unlock her cock just yet.

"I'm looking forward to that opportunity for worship, Mistress....."

"I'll bet you are, Slave....."

"Frighteningly Hot"

That was how Mistress described her prospective LL when she arrived at my office a little after 1:30 pm yesterday. Naturally, I had been curious about how things were proceeding, as I sat at my desk, locked away in my cage. She did give me a brief text message a few minutes before hand saying she was "on the way" after their 90 minutes over fish tacos.

I de-briefed her as I shut the door, slid the apolstered chair against it, and laid the maroon blanket across it's surface. Mistress had dressed quite nicely for her "date", a black dress showing knee and a tad of thigh, bare legs, and black heels.

Hot.

And as she wriggled out of her black undies and spread her legs, our conversation continued as I fell to my knees, though my lips and tongue were otherwise engaged.

"Yes, Slave.... he's pretty hot... and really doesn't seem to young for me."

"What's next, Mistress?"

"He wanted to get together with me tomorrow [Friday] but my schedule is just jammed.... so we decided he'd come by the house next Wednesday morning."

"Sounds like a good way to spend 'hump day' Mistress....."

"Mmmmm...... "

I wasn't sure if that sound was generated by the culmination of my oral attentions, or Mistress already considering her plans for Wednesday morning.

"Did he try to kiss you, Mistress...."

"No, but he did give me a hug goodbye out on the sidewalk. I guess I acted a little strange, but he said 'what's the big deal.... I'm going to be fucking you by Wedneday...."

"I suppose he had a point, Mistress....."

"Plus what's strange about giving a business acquaintaince a little hug...."

But last night, after some worship, a bike ride and post- bike ride sex I did notice Mistress sorting through the photos on her eye phone.

"Hmmm.... I just can't seem to find that cock shot he sent, Slave....."

Hope she found it. It would be rude to act as if they'd never been introduced cum Wednesday.

Slave Back in the Cage

I suppose if it's worth a headline, there are some of our readers likely to conclude that Slave doesn't get enough quality "cage time". But we have been traveling a lot, haven't we? ANd you wouldn't expect me to wear a cock cage whilst skiing would you?

In any event, Mistress has a lunch time "date" with her prospective latin lover, and made her plans for me clear.

"I think you should be in your cage tomorrow, Slave."

"Of course, Mistress."

She's lunching with LL just down the block from my office, and says she will stop by afterwards for some worship and to give me an update. LL knows that Mistress's "hubby" is in on their cyber flirtation so fat.

"He says he hopes I'll have some good stories to share with you, Slave....."

But Mistress remains a little skeptical.  After all, we've been to this rodeo before, and most of the guys turn out to be less than self-advertised.

Maybe these "first dates", are a little too much like opening day in River City. Lots of hype, hope springing eternal. But when they actually start playing the games.... well, it turns out that new lead off hitter, or the upgraded starting rotation are not all they are cracked up to be, right?

Fortunately, Slave and Mistress have each other to fall back upon. The whole cuckold fantasy is a hot one for both of us..... And the concept  seems to have caught on in the wider world hasn't it.  Check out this rather amusing video, one of a series, I stumbled on at YouTube. cuckold talk. But Mistress and Slave  aren't exactly having a sexual dry-spell without it are we?

Indeed, last night, there was some rather hot sex in our empty nest after our bike ride. And this morning, as a little warm up for her date, Mistress will have the benefit of Slave's work-a-day cock a little extra firm as a result of that hard steel ring that forms the base of my cage.

No, whatever happens with LL, I plan to make sure Mistress has a solid quota of cums today. But can you blame a woman for considering the merits of a somewhat larger cock mounted on some 35 year old stud?

I can't.

Cock Shot Proliferation

Mistress and Slave are back in River City. Nothing like some gray sky and snow flurries on opening baseball season day to remind you that you are no longer in the land of Enchantment. In fact, maybe "disenchantment" best summarizes our state of mind after a day back behind our desks.

Nevertheless, we move on, and at least Mistress has some "shopping" to look forward to this week as she evaluates two potential suitors.

By Sunday, she had taken over Slave's correspondence duties with a certain Latin Lover, and by the time we were riding home from the River City aerodrome that evening, he had escalated (or should I say de-escalated) the level of discourse to subjects including favorite positions, threesomes, bondage,oral sex, etc. 

"I'm not sure what we'll have left to talk about at lunch on Thursday,  Slave."

Not surprisingly, he's a hot blooded fellow at 35, who has already pointed out that he would just love it if Mistress could find another woman for a three way.

"He's already got another babe involved and he hasn't even fucked you yet, Mistress?"

When he said he'd happily return the favor and share her with another guy, Mistress had a tart response.

"Don't worry, I know exactly where I can find the other guy."

Glad to know she was thinking of me.

Yesterday, he was already sending Mistress the infamous cock shot, which she told me about via text.

"What is it with guys and self-portraits of their cocks, Mistress?"

You see, Mistress has been undertaking a seemingly endless effort to root out past cock shots from her I-photo collection. The evils of "photo stream" have created a problem some of you may appreciate. Photos seem to migrate endlessly across boundaries between I-phone, laptop and whatever other Apple devices you have. Mistress found that suddenly she had 11, 000 photos on her thin little "Air" lap top, gobbling up available memory. And salted among them were not only the cute nakers photos of her that Slave sometimes takes, but also a collection of angry male appendages that kept cropping up again and again, no matter how many times she deleted them. The thought of one of our sullen co-eds "accidentally" discovering some of these photos on a family computer while downloading bootleg audio files is a source of heart burn for us.

Of course, a few of those cock shots were mine, all caged up, to show I was following the proper protocol when she was out of town,

But the ones that were thick , proud and ready for action belonged to some folks I will not name here to avoid potential embarrassment.

"Just when I though I had gotten rid of those, now.... more cock shots, Slave... Argggh."


She showed me one sample, and I suppose it was impressive, though it was hard to compare to a certtain "special occasion cock". 


"You really need to line them up against a coffee mug, pickle,  or magic marker to get the right perspective, Mistress."


We discussed the strange need of some men to get their goods so conspicuously out on the table, even before the first public meeting.




"I guess some folks take more pride in their peters, than I do, Mistress... to me it's just an accessory, but not the center of my self-worth."

"Who knows, Slave.... maybe he was afraid I would think there wasn't one there unless he showed it to me?"

"One suggestion though Mistress.... until this need of his passes, turn off the fucking photo stream."