A Reader's Kinky Request

Like many of our fellow bloggers, we sometimes get personal sidebar correspondence from our "many" fans....

Well, this week Mistress mentioned one she got from a gentleman we will not identify here. She didn't show me the actual message, but summed it up as follows on our commute home the other day ....

"He says he's been reading the blog and is intrigued about what goes on in your office, Slave...."

"Really.... what's so intriguing? You visit. I push the chair up against the door. You wriggle out of your sexy undies, and, I fall to my knees for some mid day worship...."

'Well he wants to know if we've ever had a third person involved...."

"As in?"

"You in the cage, while that third person fucks me. You're watching, of course."

"Well I could politely step out to give you some privacy. Sort of guard the door?"

'Wouldn't that look a little odd.... you standing outside your closed door?"

"I suppose you're right....."

"Plus I think this particular person would find it more of a turn on if m caged Slave had to watch him fuck your wife...."

" I can see the appeal of that....."

Mistress had a little devious grin on her face. Obviously intrigued. Maybe a little turned on at the thought if it playing out in the confines of Slave's office.

"What sort of Slave would say 'no' to that sort of proposition, Mistress?'

"Not a very good one.... and I know you like to be a good Slave."

Slave's Advice to Poltical Wannabes

Yesterday, Suzanne over at All Mine had some advice for political wives on how to contain the primal urges of their husbands so as not to (further) humiliate them. Not surprisingly, her advice involved a cock cage for the Anthony Wieners of the world.

It so happens that Ol' Mick has been involved in a few political campaigns in his life, and with some gray hair accumulated, where there still is hair, its not unusual for an aspiring political candidate to ask me for some advice.... but none of them ever seem to ask about the one subject that seems to get so many of them into trouble.... managing a messy sex life. So, in case any of them are reading here, I've compiled 

MICK'S TOP TEN SUGGESTIONS FOR POLITICIANS ON HOW TO MANAGE THEIR SEXUAL URGES:

10. If you feel compelled to patronize a prostitute, consider not using a check or credit card, as Jerry Springer did back in his Cincinnati City Council days. The documentation makes a great "get out of jail free" card when the pro gets picked up for soliciting.

9. Hounded by stories of womanizing? Don't take your squeeze out for a weekend cruise on a boat called "Monkey Business", and then pose for pictures with her on your lap.

8. Looking for a pizza pick-me-up during the latest government shut down?  Ask the White House kitchen for carry out, not the cute intern who likes to flash her thong at you.

7. Looking for an alibi to cover your trip to South America to visit your honey? Consider "trade mission" rather than solo hiking on the Appalachian Trail.

6. Caught by a camera wielding constituent in Argentina rather than on the Appalachian Trail? Don't conduct a live on CNN news conference where you profess your undying love for your latest honey, while the good wife stews back in the governor's mansion.

5. Enjoying a messy blow-job in the oval office? Consider having that cute thong flashing intern wear a bib. Or, if not, insist on paying her dry cleaning bill.

4. Sending photos of your dong to your fawning  internet fans? At least use Snapchat, where the photos self delete after the first viewing.

3. Governor of New York? Don't assume that prostitutes at the Mayflower Hotel in D.C. won't recognize you.

2.  Don't expect that the public will buy "I did not have sex with that woman" because your dick only went into her mouth, and only your cigar slipped into her silken folds.

1. Picking a naughty sexting pseudonym? Avoid names like "Carlos Danger" when running for office in a constituency with more than a 5% Hispanic population. Try something less ethnic, like "Iron (Congress)Man". Or maybe "LongDongTony"

Mistress and Slave Throw a Party

Last night the UCTMW World HQ was crammed with family and friends as we threw a party to commemorate our 20th Wedding Anniversary, Mistress's "BIG" Birthday, and our younger C0-Ed's birthday as well. There were just a handful of folks on hand who actually made it to that long ago "surprise" wedding, which had been disguised as a birthday party. Sadly, some key attendees at that event are no longer with us, though they were here last night in spirit.

Mistress was looking lovely as always, with even a cute lesbian couple fawning over her (this always fuels one of Slave's favorite fantasies).

Also in attendance was Francois (you may remember him, he's got a little listing on our cast of characters), with his female co-habitant. He helped us select the wine for the evening and brought a jar of spicy pickles as a gift, which I suspect had some double meaning Slave is still trying to sort out.

Jay was also in attendance. We have not seen him much of late, primarily because he's been dealing with a son now living with him. But he seemed to fit in with the crowd. Fortunately, we did not have to field questions along the line of "how do you know those guys?"

But with two of her former lovers here,  those fawning lesbians,  and a broad assortment of friends and family, hopefully Mistress felt that the evening was a success.

Slave probably is due for a punishment though.... at some point, before the party began, the warm sun still up, I had the temerity to ponder why Mistress was lighting candles.... I mean, it's summer time right? It was pretty toasty, it would get even warmer as the crowd arrived, and candles generate heat. "not practical".

Mistress was not amused.... "After 20 years haven't you figured out that I like lit candles, Slave."

Well, maybe I've tried to tune it out.

I did my best to back out of this "dispute" when Mistress got into a bit of a huff and started blowing out all the candles she had lit at some effort.

One of the first guests to arrive was Mistress's former assistant, (we'll call her Kate) also a woman who bats from the other side of the plate. When Mistress explained out little disagreement about candles, this friend nodded knowingly.

"It's the same way with Sally (her companion).... I'm always lighting candles and she's always moaning about it.... I just tell her 'deal with it'."

Not surprisingly, one would surmise that Sally is the more "macho" of the two ladies in that relationship.

So what is it with babes and candles?

Now Slave is up early, cleaning up the mess, while looking forward to a day off without much on the agenda other than attending to Mistress's wanton, post party desires, and hoping that my candle grousing did not earn me some swats with her riding crop.

HNT/ Office Worship Interruptus

It was bound to happen some day. And maybe it was only fitting after our multiple interruptions on Switch Day.

I had dropped Mistress off just a block from my office for one of those River City macho early breakfast meeting. After charming all the tedious business execs,  she came up to my office to get the car keys and head over to her own office across town. But first....

"I think I have some time for a little worship, Slave...."

"Always happy to accommodate, Mistress."

She eased off her undies, as I slid her "throne" against the door.  The one without a lock.

Soon Slave was on his knees, doing what I do best,,,, letting my lips and tongue forage through those clean shaven folds as Mistress's head lolled back against the door, lost in her own pleasure.

But just as things were reaching the appropriate crescendo of delight....there was a soft but distinctive knock on the door....."

Mistress was startled, but Slave kept at it knowing that she was just there, on the edge.... and sure enough, her hips were soon bucking against my face as she tipped over, a muffled moan seeping from her lips.

"Was that a knock, she whispered?"

I nodded, then switching to my work place officious tone....

"Just a minute...."

I indicated that Mistress may want to reassemble her outfit, and as she slid back into her panties and rearranged her lovely dress into a format no quite as revealing, I slid the chair back into place and did my best to wipe any accumulated juices from my mouth.

Within seconds though I had the door opened, trying my best to make it seem that we had just been "conferring" in case it was a curious partner, or eager associate with an update to deliver.

Fortunately, it was just the mail guy, who was busy delivering my neighbor's mail as he waited for my door to pop open.

I let him hand it to me, so he didn't have to enter the office. Hopefully his senses were not so fine tuned to pick up the musky scents that no doubt were still wafting about following Mistress's stifled cum.

"That was a close one, Slave....."

"I just hope I made it worth your while, Mistress...."

She didn't seem to have any complaints on that score.

Switch Day Interruptus

Mistress and Slave were engaged in full switch day rituals here in our empty (if only for the weekend) nest. Her wrists were bound to the corners of the bed with those red leather cuffs. Her ankles were spread as well, using soft beach towel strips.

There was kanoodling, stroking, and even a little spanking as I "coerced" from her the naughty details of her Friday night sex marathon with a lover who shall not be named.

"Haven't we been through all this before, Slave?"

"What sort of interrogator settles for the first version of some sordid story, Mistress?"

Ultimately I deployed her favorite power tool - which apparently had been utilized in the wee hours here Saturday morning - to tease, frustrate, and ultimately provide he with the cum she seemed so desperate for that I had her begging.

Now it was time for Slave to "cash in", and I was working on a from the rear entry when her I-phone rang.

Damn.

Normally this rude interruption would be ignored, but with two daughters on the road - one at some crazy music festival, fatherly duty prevailed to make sure all were safe.

But....it was our Western Correspondent.... the WC.... who we'd not heard from in weeks due to some health problems. I wasn't inclined to blow him off, so I picked up, and even untied Mistress so she could talk to him.

"Slave's got me all tied up for switch day, Mike."

It seems he is home, not completely well, but hopefully on the mend. We hope he'll be back to full strength soon. The lubricant industry is counting on him to hit their ambitious annual sales targets for the year!

By now, my work-a-day cock was hardly of much use, so I rebound Mistress's wrists - this time in front - and compelled her to use her considerable oral skills to restore to its former glory. Soon I was back in action, this time plowing forward from above when.... you guessed it.... the phone rang again.

This time it was music fest girl.... was there some emergency that had her up before noon? We had to check.

"Can you buy me an I-phone charger today.... mine broke...."



Uhhh..... no.  No shopping expeditions planned for electronica this Sunday.



"Just stop at  a truck stop in the drive home.... they are fully stocked."




With this "emergency" handled, Slave as once again less than fully armed to resume the task at hand.




Luckily, Mistress was in no position to deny me the stimulative attention of her lush mouth one more time. And there were no more interruptions before I was .... finally..... granted permission to bring this oft interrupted mission to its fitting end.

At least I got the merit badge for persistence!

MIstress Crash

For Mistress it had been a tough week.... fly back from half way round the planet (well at least it was in Business class), try to re-orient to a 12 hr. time shift, hit the ground running after a week away. Then... her birthday and our anniversary, her Slave heading off for a three night business trip, and a late night into early morning sex marathon Friday night.

When she picked me up at the airport early Saturday afternoon, she had on one of those shape hugging tie-dye dresses with no bra underneath.

"I took a double loop bike ride this morning Slave.... then crashed out on the deck for a while.... sorry, but no shower yet.... is that gross?"

"Just the opposite, Mistress",  I said, embracing her at curbside, "I'm looking forward to all those accumulated flavors."

We had plans to celebrate our Anniversary and her dinner that evening, but there were a few free hours open in our empty (for the weekend) nest.  We rested a bit, then Mistress allowed her three days chaste Slave to savor those clean shaven folds.....

"Am I too gamey, Slave...."

"Ummmmmm....."

I came up briefly for air.

"No, Mistress, just right gamey...." 

I've never been into all those pretentious adjectives the wine "experts" use to describe the flavors of some overpriced Pinot Noir.  "A hint of raspberry.... the subtle aroma of burning peat.... "you know the drill.

So I won't try to overdo..... let's just say there was the salty, musky flavors that had accumulated from a night of cuckold delight, followed by some vigorous exercise in our hot River City humidity.

Lovely, as far as I was concerned.

After Mistress succumbed to my attentions, and then indulged her Slave, she only had a few more words....

"Wake me at 6:45 Slave.... I'm exhausted....."

 Could you blame her? She was so out of it that she never heard me snapping pictures of her....

Details Embargoed

As Slave was finishing up his business here in the Land of Enchantment, and headed for a night at a dreary airport motel for my early flight this morning, Mistress was exercising her contractual rights.

But for reasons that are a little embarrassing, there was a surprise in store for her. Let's just say I didn't here from her until around 2 am her time, when she and a person not to be identified called it a night.

"That was quite a night Slave... I feel like I just rode a camel."

And Mistress, after her trip to the mysterious east, knows of camels. Well not "knows" in that sense, but you get my drift.

This morning as I updated her on my flight, she sent this photo of the detritus left behind after her very busy evening. Tequila for two. Plus some powered assistance.

Seems like Mistress found other ways to amuse herself with Slave off on this too long and poorly timed business trip.

But, at least until the embargo is lifted, what happened in the UCTMW Executive Suite, stays in the UCTMW Executive Suite.

Let's just say I'm very much looking forward to my time to share the same bed this afternoon.

Wherefore art though, Suzanne?

We've been wondering where our friendly  competitors over at All Mine have been lately. Their posts have dwindled to a slow trickle. We miss them. 

Then last night as Slave was walking back to my lonely room here in the Land of Enchantment  I stumbled on this image. Could the mysterious Suzanne have given up her promising academic and blogging career simply to become a model?

Slave's Feeling Guilty; Mistress Home Alone... Isn't there an App for that?

Normally Slave would have been happy for a relatively low key business trip to the land of enchantment... but not with Mistress home alone after our painful two week separation.

The bottom line is that we had about 48 hours together before I had to head out again. And because of lousy air connections I won't get back to her until Saturday afternoon.

Even worse, she's suffering from a cold or some other post travel maladies that have her crashing back at our empty nest.

She needs some serious pampering, and her Slave is two time zones away.  It had me feeling so bad that I almost picked up the "toy" I saw in a local gallery, so she could properly punish me for letting her down.

It's a shame I can't send over some Slave surrogate, to fill in when I'm out of town, just like it would be nice for Mistress to have a key holder surrogate when her Slave travels and she wants to make me wear my cage, but still give me the freedom to get through TSA screening, or maybe get some exercise.

Come to think of it, maybe there is a service industry just waiting to be born here. Sounds like a project for one of those hip business incubator's, with an attendant APP:

"Your Slave is on the road.... use this APP to find a nearby and trust worthy Domme willing to make sure he's safely locked away at bed time.... "

"Mistress traveling or home alone.... this APP quickly sends out a casting call for trust worthy submissives who will pop over for some stress relieving worship, a relazing massage or foot rub...."

At the least, can't some dork do a TED presentation on this unfulfilled marketing opportunity?

I am Not Worthy

I'll bet many of you thought Mistress and Slave just disappeared.... the last you heard from us, Slave was driving east across Missouri and Mistress was jetting back from South Asia with the Mistresses in training and her Mother....

Well we all made it home safely. And between catching up for lost time between the sheets, adjusting to the time changes and reminding our offices that we still did work there, it's been pretty hectic.

Rest assured that Mistress did "twist my arm (or was it her cock?)" to hang out with her in the Executive Suite for about an hour of carnal delight Monday morning after I collected her and her entourage from the airport. Since then there has been some robust cock riding and clean shaven fold worshiping.  Mistress was in withdrawal after two weeks of sharing a bedroom with her Mother, and Slave was more than happy to help her resume her habits.

In particular, I had the opportunity to worship her Monday morning, after that long overnight flight from Delhi. It gave me a chance to savor all those exotic spices and residual flavors that originated half a world away.

It was almost as good as being there! (Actually better, considering the absence of jet lag).

But sadly, we are now disunited again. I am at the airport, headed west again. Work has called me back to "Breaking Bad" Country, and on a very special day, which makes it all the worse.

You see, it's a big birthday for Mistress. And also our 20th Anniversary.

She's been supportive, knowing that this sort of inconvenient travel is part of the deal. And once I'm back.... we'll there will be catch up time.

It certainly is a bad time for Slave to leave town. We should be celebrating 20 years of adventures together... kids that have grown and blossomed.... good times, challenging times. And lots of sex.  I've known all along that this pampered Slave is most fortunate to have found the love of my life.  Two weeks of separation made it all the more apparent.

And it's particularly sad that this weekend both of the Co-Eds will be away.... a brief period of empty nest time starting tomorrow evening that Slave will miss sharing with Mistress - at least on Thursday and Friday night.

But when the Slave is away....

Mistress got a text from Mr. Perfect Cock, wondering if she wanted to meet for a drink. They've set up a "date" for Friday night. He does have some explaining to do .....he was the guy with the stalker girl friend from a few states away. He claims she's been dumped. But whether Mistress will invite him back to our empty nest for a night-cap Friday night. Well that is a question that only she can answer.

"We'll see how it goes Slave...."

Well at least she won't be lonely when she gets home to an empty house in Fiday.

In the meantime.... I encourage our readers to wish Mistress a happy birthday. Hopefully I won't have earned a punishment as a result of this unfortunate and untimely absence.

Wild Horses (Couldn't Drag Me Away)

Slave is heading back to River City. One day of the two day drive is completed. Somehow it seems more fun on the way out than on the slog back to the daily routine.

But at least I have more to look forward to than a return to my office.

 I will be collecting  Mistress and the two Mistresses in training at the airport Monday morning after their long journey back. I've been hoping she won't be too jet legged for a little mid-afternoon nooky, since it's been a long time since I've had the chance to worship those clean shaven folds. But I didn't want to press my luck (I almost did a typo there -- had to correct from "lick").

My drive today was highlighted by a herd of about 30 wild horses in the open range of southern Colorado - It's the first time I've seem them so close to the highway. Imagine: brought here by the Spaniards in the 1500's. "Liberated" by the Comanches or Apaches. Then wandering off into the wild to regenerate like a native species.

And when I spoke to Mistress this evening - early morning where she is, and bed time here in some sleazy motel in central Missouri - she made it clear she's counting on her Slave to do more on Monday than just collect her at the airport.

"I hope you don't have to go right back to work after you take us home Slave.... we have some catching up to do"

As the song goes.... wild horses couldn't drag me away.

Slave Rebellion

Dear Mistress,

I know I am risking a severe punishment, but I've decided there is one directive you've given me on this trip that I can no longer follow:

NO MORE MASTURBATING!

After all those years following the "no touch rule" I thought it would be a nice opportunity to get re-acquainted with my right hand. So when you told me I had to do it every day, I thought "wow. now that should be fun!"

But like too much ice cream, or the day after Holloween as a kid: too much of a good thing is just, well,  too much.

After all,  in these years of training, you've wired me to focus on pleasing you. My greatest satisfaction comes not from the daily sticky discharge of some bodily fluids, but hearing your moans of satisfaction as my lips and tongue ply their experienced craftsmanship on your clean shaven folds.

 Plus it seems so unfair that you've had to stifle your sexual needs while rooming on the road with your Mom. Now that you are in Delhi, maybe you can find some sexy British businessman, or hunky Indian lad to salve your needs, just to tide you over for our afternoon encounter on Monday after I collect you at the airport.

Yes, I know there are guys out there who find no greater pleasure than in taking matters into their own hands. The type that can go through vats and vats of high end lubricants comparable to the motor pool at the Air Force Academy.

But I know now that's not me! Indeed, in retrospect I am starting to wonder whether this was a lesson you were trying to teach me. That by overexposing me to "self-abuse" I would realize what a hollow and unsatisfying experience it is compared to pleasuring you and the generous reciprocation you've provided on a daily basis whenever we are together. You are the Tom Sawyer of Mistresses, and I am the dork you've persuaded to paint your fence for free.

I truly am a pampered house slave!

So I hope you won't take my insubordination too hard. But I am now on a masturbation strike! Call me the Spartacus of the Carrot Cuffers if you will. But unlike Edward Snowden I am not seeking asylum in Moscow. I'm turning myself into the proper authorities - you - for whatever punishment you deem fit.

Your defiant Slave,

Mick

HNT / Wildlife Edition

I decided to take the day off from my work email and handyman tasks here at our Mountain hideaway and take a long and strenuous hike to the top of our state - a 13,147 foot peak not too far from our driveway.

It turned out to be a beautiful day on the ascent - I hit the trail at 7 am to avoid those afternoon thunderstorms we've been having here. And as the going got steeper and the air thinner I made sure to stop frequently for a minute or so to catch my breath and take in the amazing views: including big horn sheep in the meadows across from the trail, and lots of cute little Marmot scampering about, like this guy:

It's a long hike - 3.5 hours up - and steep. Very steep, with lots of loose rock to stumble on. It tests an old slave's cardio-vascular system, and for another year I seemed to pass the test. Though I did have my doubts. When I finally made the summit I found myself up there with a young woman who, for the life of me, seemed to have the body double of Mistress at age 26, or so, when I first was smitten by her.

Was this an hallucination? Had I really had some heart attack somewhere on the trail and completed the climb in some other dimension?

She had the same long sexy legs, her tight ass tightly contained by what clingy riding shorts that left little  to the imagination. Her hair was a sun bleached brown. And when the cool breeze at the summit kicked up, the skin on those long legs broke out into some mind boggling goose bumps that called out for a man to hold her tight and warm her up....

"Mistress.... is that you.... have we been reunited in some alternative universe? "
(I hope I didn't say that our loud, but I can't be sure.)

Well apparently it was not an hallucination. Once I caught my breath and my heart beat returned to something comparable to a resting pace, I struck up a conversation: this vision from my past was actually a medical resident from the Denver area, who was young enough to be a middle daughter for me. And while her stunning bod made her a dead ringer for the Molly I met back in 1987, her face was more Chloe Sivigny. Still, not bad.

Shame on you old Slave!

When I briefly lost my balance perched on a rock to take a photo of the amazing view, I made a quick recovery. "Good catch", she said, she mentioning it was good there was a doctor around in case I busted my skull (or something).  Somehow I felt reassured. But I was tempted to consider faking some malady that might require her to conduct an "examination".

She took a photo of me at the top on my camera. And I took a photo of her on my camera. I was tempted to ask her if it was OK for me to "capture" her on my camera, purely for tourism purposes of course. But my training kicked it. We exchanged first names, but Mistress will be happy to know that I made no effort to suggest I "show her around town" last night after our hike was completed... presuming that I survived.

Of course, any interest Slave had in this vision from our past was purely nostalgic!

(No Suzanne, I did not wear the cage on this 7 hour hike.... just to get that question off the table.)

In the meantime, Mistress was having her own adventures in the mysterious East. She sent photos from a  19,000 ft. altittude lake at the border of India and China, including this photo of some Yaks in a nearby pasture:

 

This reminded us of our sojourn to that charming, tricked out  Yurt in Whattheheckitstan a couple of years back, documented in our other blog Mistress and Slave on the Lam. And of course, the WC, who ended up at the wrong end of a Yak out in the shed when he came to visit. The WC has had some health problems of late, and we are worried about him.... please send him good vibes for a rapid recovery. We miss him here.

Finally, some of you drawn by the HNT tag are probably wondering: is all we get Marmots and Yaks.... I want my money back... oh yeah, if this was a pay site, Google would have pulled our plug. So in all fairness, here is a photo of happier times here at the Mountain Hideaway:

Our patio is just not the same without Mistress working on eliminating her tan lines!

Oops...Did I delete that cock-shot?

Last night Slave was invited to dinner at the home of some friends from Houston. It was a familiar crowd - two couples from Texas; another couple from Oklahoma; a local troubadour and his charming wife. Lots of wine and other mentally disarming substances were consumed. And the absence of Mistress Molly was commented on frequently.

Any affair  can be a little dull without her to stir things up. But these folks were trying. Maybe trying to hard.

At some point during dinner - possibly to change the subject from someone going into too vivid details about a recent incident of a peeking Tom in a port-a-pody - I elected to display a photo Mistress had sent with her and the kids from the highest highway pass in the world - 19,000 feet - near the India - Pakistan border.

There was some oohing and ahhing, but then the person holding my I-phone started thumbing through my pictures, commenting and displaying to others some other nice shots Mistress had forwarded to me via Viber. (oops....another product placement).

I thought it was cute.  but then I realized there might be a particular photo there that would be excruciatingly humiliating.... had I bothered to erase that cockshot Mistress had demanded I send her the other day?

I realized that not acting would be crazy, so I stood up, walked around the table and politely said,

"Now B, you may not want to see all those photos....."

I reached down and gently retrieved my phone.

Of course B was no idiot....

"Hmmmm..... there must be something on there Mick doesn't want us to see..... "

"See he's blushing.....I knew it.... did she send you titty shots?   .... I bet that's it."

I simply slid my camera back into my pocket. A "you got me" smirk on my face.

"I'm exercising my Fifth Amendment rights....."

Was I wrong to let the table assume that it was Mistress who's body parts could have been found on my I-phone?

And what would Miss Manners say about a person who - without permission - starts looking for more than the photo you proferred on your I-phone for her to see?

Was handing her the phone an invitation to go exploring in my files?

Please help me sort out this social conundrum.

Mistress Calls Her Slave to Account

Poor Mistress... she was rousted at 4 am out of some romantic (if you can call sharing quarters with your mother romantic) high altitude
lux-o-rustic tent somewhere too close to Pakistan for my taste last night. Her guide reported that because of a likely shut-down of highways after a terrorist bombing of a sacred Buddhist site, they should bust ass back to the hotel they had been staying had and sequester themselves until a day of angry monk protests had subsided.

That explains why she surprised me with a call last evening, when I thought she was "off the grid". After she filled me in on the latest developments in this 21st Century  odyssey of the white chicks through the near east, she came to the subject of most concern to her:

"Well Slave.... thanks for that cockshot"?

(Did I mention that she had required me to send a cock shot before I "took matters into my own hands" on Sunday.)

"You're welcome, Mistress.... though I felt a little weird about it... you know how hard its been for you to erase all those cock shots you got from the WC ... with photo stream they just keep reproducing themselves.... and what if the kids get a glimpse on your i-phone...."

Sounds like I'm whining right? But I am a little bit of a worry wart on the display of her work-a-day cock.

"Oh Slave... it was nice to see what I'm missing.... and it kind of got me hot."

Well that's a plus.

Then she started asking more questions:

"So what were you thinking about when you did it, Slave...."

Now that's an even more put your dude on the spot question than that tried and true standard:

"Tell me what you're thinking about..."

The one that makes most guys cringe. But  when it's that general, its usually easy to come up with something. Say you were thinking about why your favorite sports team fucked up last night... or maybe the lyrics to a Bruce Sprinsteen song.  But you can always ad lib with something like "how hot you look today, babe."

Am I right?

But when your Mistress / wife asks you: "what were you thinking about when you jerked off on my orders yesterday after emailing me a photo of your engorged cock with a mountain vista in the background".

Well that requires a little more .... dexterity. Truth be told I really couldn't remember....but I tired my best:

"I was thinking of some buff young Buddhist Monk.... saffron robes, bare feet, powerful thighs ... cornering you in a secluded chamber at one of those Temples you've been visiting and tossing aside his decades long vow of chastity just for a moment with you, Mistress. You were on your knees, unwarapping his loin cloth to see if he was "cut" or not when I reached the point of no return."

So, how did I do?

Better Fashion Choice

Slave found some baggy grandpa jeans in the closet. Maybe not much of a fashion statement. But not a threat of decockatation when combined with my cowboy boots for a night at the local Cantina. 

Mistress Checks In ... and Up On her Slave

Mistress has figured out how to get a wifi connection at their exotic location, and we've talked a bit over the last day. She's 11.5 hours ahead of me, and spent the day celebrating the Dali Lama's birthday. (No doubt our cute Co-Eds were rolling  their eyes, and longing for some trashy "Housewives of Las Vegas"  time).

She did check to make sure I was performing my daily task, and wanted to verify that my attention was focused on her when I "did the deed".  Of course, I reassured her that she was at the center of my thoughts.

As for Mistress, well it sounds like the opportunities have been thin.

"Have you been able to take personal liberties, Mistress...."

"Ha... not with [her mother], rolling around in the bed next to mine...I'm like those Tibetan monks.... I've taken a forced vow of chastity for the duration...."

No I guess its unlikely that I will be cuckolded by a Buddhist monk. I suppose there is a chance she will run into some Indiana Jones type character who will take care of her needs on expedition. But I doubt her Mother would let her slip out of her eye-shot for very long.

She did send me some photos via Viber (a miracle App as far as I am concerned) which confirms how exotic the locale is.... looks like those roads are scary. ANd she describes sometimes unnerving military checkpoints along the way.... though everyone so far has been polite.  Nevertheless, I will be glad when they are home safely.

And I suspect I will have one horny Mistress to take care of when I pick her up at the airport a week from Monday.

Slave's Bad Fashion Choice

Here in our little corner of the Rockies, the locals put on a festive 4th of July, with our funky little parade drawing "floats" and spectators from far and wide.

I hosted a little "pre-gaming" get together for some of our friends before the parade, but without Mistress to co-ordinate the spread....  all they got was some chips, salsa and beer. So much for my "Hostessing" skills. We did make a little video that I emailed to Mistress to show we all missed her presence.

Some of the floats picked up on recent headlines in the quirky way that you come to  expect here:

 But to this guy, among a crowd supporting leakers Bradley Manning and Edward  Snowden, I only have a two word response: "Nathan Hale!"

After the parade, there was the big pig roast in the orchard of a local restaurant. Live music, pork, beans, cobbler, all capped off my the big jalapeno eating contest!  The winner ate 32 in 3 minutes.

Glad She wasn't staying at my house.

I wandered back to our hideaway at around 3 pm for a much needed nap, planning to go see some live music at a local brew pub down the highway a bit.

Naturally, since members of the opposite sex were likely to be about, I followed instructions and smushed my balls and cock into that infernal steel cage.  But this is where I made a poor decision:

I picked a pair of jeans out of my closet. Now these are kind of old, relatively tight fitting jeans. Well at least they've gotten tight. Do you think high altitude and low humidity shrinks cotton?

In any event, by the time I had zipped up and buttoned, things were a little tight in there.  But manageable.

Then.... I reached for my cowboy boats... leaning over to pull on the boots.... ouch. The combination of tight jeans and that quick bend down to slide on the boots and pull my cuffs over them....it felt like someone was grabbing that cage and twisting.... hard. 

Damn.

Next time.... slip ons!

Happy Birthday, America!

While Mistress is celebrating America's birthday in the foothills of the Himalayas, Slave will be enjoying what has become our normal 4th tradition here in our little town - entertaining some friends and taking in the local funky parade and pig roast under what should be sunny skies here in the shadow of the Sangre de Christo Mountains.

Some of you will be happy to know that I followed the applicable protocol and wore my cage last night when I joined some friends for dinner and music at a local restaurant.
(And I will make sure to wear it again today for the parade and lunch.)

But it came off once I got home last night.  I know, I can hear Suzanne complaining, what sort of "enforced chastity" is going on when Slave can unlock at whim. I suppose it would be better in future circumstances like this that Mistress find a trusted "key holder" to allow Slave appropriate relief, while assuring that donning and doffing the steel confines of my device is not at my personal whim.

But how do you disclose to someone, even a close friend, that you would like to trust them with such a "personal" duty?

It's hard to imagine Mistress having that conversation with a friend:

"Hey.... do you mind keeping track of my husband while I'm gone.... you know.... making sure he's not getting into trouble, eating well, and letting him out of the cock cage for daily bike rides... he can just pop by before and after the ride. Here's the key...."

And what's the proper tip etiquette for  a "key-holder" ?  Or do they just do it as a personal favor for a pal?

"Norwegians are Hot"

At least Mistress used a nearly 24 hour delay in Newark to fine tune her sexual tastes.

At one point as I was cruising across the great flat plains of Western Kansas, she texted me that the Norwegian business types sharing the United lounge with her and our children had a certain... appeal.

"Norwegians are  hot, Slave."

"Maybe you can finagle a quickie, Mistress...."

"Drag one off to a private shower area?"

(I know, I shouldn't be texting while driving.... but it kept me awake over the 26 hours from River City to our hideaway....)

She also made some connections with some rock profs from our local River City University who were escorting some students for a "dig" in the same region of the Himilayas where Mistress, our daughters and her mother are heading.

Mistress "minored" in geology back in the day, and she has often told stories about the furtive couplings in her tent with fellow students (and a Professor, as I recall) on remote dig sights in Wyoming and South Dakota. But what happened in the Black Hills stays there, right?

While Mistress was flirting to pass the time, Slave was earnestly missing her. And at a greasy spoon in Lardner, KS. where I stopped for breakfast, I thought I was hallucinating when I looked up and saw this image paying the tab for her eggs, short stack and bacon:

It was a strange Mistress double, maybe a little younger, but certainly the same complexion and body type, with firm thighs and muscular shoulders, and a tight butt embraced by her running shorts. She even had the same hair color, with her hair up and in a tie-dye band much like Mistress would do it.

It made me want to ask her a few questions -- clean shaven folds? Open to a little mid-ride worship? What's your attitude about cock cages? I was just curious about whether the similarities were more than superficial.  All very academic.

When I texted Mistress her picture, she was not amused.

By the time Mistress flight was finally in the air, with a stop in Zurich, Slave was finally pulling into the drive of our hideaway here in the high desert. A wind was blowing and it actually was cool here, and there was no forest fire haze. Perfect.... but for my absent Mistress.

After all those hours on my ass and in motion, once I unpacked, I had that dazed jet-lag feeling. The sort of mental fog that makes it hard to make decisions, or remember what you were in the middle of doing. I figured a bike ride might shake off the cob webs, so I unlocked the bike, and headed out, slelecting maybe a little too ambitious a route before acclimating to the 7000 foot plus altitude.

It did make me break a sweat, and recover my focus. But on the long holl climb back I found it "convenient" to stop and snap this photo of the marker on the drive of a celebrity neighbor:

She's that movie star with the big lips and distinctive smile. A Pretty Woman, quite literally, who was married to one of my favorite Texas musicians, Lyle Lovett. Not sure what the bird is about though.

Once home, I made some dinner for myself, watched the news, and monitored the progress of Mistress's Trans-Atlantic flight on the web.

And before falling to sleep, I made sure to follow Mistress's instructions, fueled by the vision of Mistress and one of those Norwegian guys. But don't worry, Suzanne, once a day will be enough to keep me in shape for Mistress's return.

Early in the morning, I did hear from her... that Viber App we downloaded worked amazingly well... internet to internet voice service that is much clearer than a Verizon or At&T connection. (oops.... is this commerical... will google boot me?)

Mistress says our younger daughter was whining that they should just stay in Switzerland....ah well.

Now they are on their way again, and Slave will have to wait another 10 hours or so to see who Mistress hit on the flight East.