Back to Basics

To get out of my cycle of malfunction and restore my reputation as  a devoted and productive slave, the best approach may be to focus on technique.  Sort of like this phase of the NFL Season, when teams hold "voluntary" workouts for players on the bubble to up their game. 

Rest assured, I will not be one of those prima donnas who stay home while trying to renegotiate their cushy contracts. I've dropped too many balls, and my "grade" surely has suffered. And all that time on the disabled list didn't help, did it.

Let's hope Mistress isn't impatient about my ability to get back to form, and considering drafting some hungry young buck to replace me.  I'm not quite ready to go out to pasture just yet! I hate to think that I could be relegated to mere household chores, like delivering the mail to Mistress, rather than also sharing in responsibility for her sexual satisfaction.

Slave Discovers His Need For Self-Correction

Yesterday we received a thoughtful comment from a local follower, who lists himself as “anonymous”. But I think we know who he is. Regardless of the source, it did provide some insight that Slave had missed with regard to two recent foul ups here – once when I forgot to worship, and then on Tuesday night when I attempted to worship in a preemptory fashion, without Mistress invitation. Here is the comment from yesterday:

Over the course of the last few weeks I have noticed that Mick and Molly have been struggling to find the balance between relaxation time and together time. For some people, this time is one and the same and therefore have no conflict in balancing between them. However, I see it as two distinct entities.
Relaxation time is the time for yourself to unwind from the daily grind and take a deep breath and let out the tension of the day. Molly has a many activities from which to choose from when needing to unwind. Reading and sunbathing tend to be her favorites, especially when done at the same time but one must not forget the biking and swimming. Mick has his own interests found in the political news cycle which is in overload due to the election year. Sometimes Mick can forget himself in this political passions as shown by his failure to worship before dinner the evening of the NY primary (see blog entry April 20, 2016) Make no mistake, everyone needs relaxation time and how we respect each other's need defines the relationship with your partner and makes together time that much more intense and special. 
Here lies the conundrum in the contract. When is the right time for the slave to offer service to their Mistress or Master? Obviously, Mick does quite well when summoned and is very quick to meet the needs of Molly when called upon to do so. The challenge is finding the right timing to offer service to Molly without disrupting her relaxation time. Two consecutive Tuesday night primaries, with totally opposite actions by Mick, ended in a failure to serve Molly in a fashion to her liking.
When does a slave offer to serve? How does a slave know when to initiate the action? After all, it is the slaves duty to serve. Mick could use the help of the readers on this topic as he is running up a demerit tally that could result in several days of uncomfortable sitting.

Of course, our commenter is right. Both of those examples of “bad slave” behavior came on election days in this contentious and entertaining primary season. Apparently Slave’s obsession with the vagaries of the dual nomination contests has disrupted my sense of how best to serve Mistress.

Clearly the lesson here is to grovel more and worry about the election results less. I should certainly offer my services, but patiently wait for Mistress to indicate that she is ready to receive them.

Now that I am more conscious of my weak spot, hopefully I will be better able to anticipate a proclivity to fuck up on election or debate night, and self-correct.

If I don’t I have a feeling Mistress will take the “correction” into her own hands.

Uppity Slave?

Last night I arrived home in a massive thunderstorm here in River City, getting pretty damp just crossing the few steps from my car to our back door.  I slid out of my wet shoes, and climbed the stairs to our bedroom, looking for Mistress.

She was already under the covers of our bed, in some sexy black undies and a top, reading her kindle.


I slid out of my work clothes, joining her in a T-shirt and my undies. We spent about 20 minutes - her continuing to read, as I scanned the news on my laptop.

Then I made my move...too tempted by her close proximity, sliding down betwixt her firm, athletic thighs...

"Ready for some worship, Mistress?"

Obviously, I was ready.  But Mistress seemed a little annoyed.

"Well you certainly are anxious, slave....."

She reluctantly put her kindle down.  Apparently I was a little too insistent, interrupting Mistress mid-chapter.  But she did indulge me, slithering out of her tight black panties to give me more complete access to her neatly shaven folds.

Rest assured I was quickly on task, hopefully powering past her initial reluctance and rewarding her patience with a satisfying pre-dinner cum. It's always nice to feel Mistress shudder with delight in response to my ministrations.

But my rude insistence hung in the air when my task was complete.

"Sorry of I was too pushy, Mistress...."

"You were, slave... you should have waited until I gave you the go ahead...."

"I guess I deserve a punishment...."

"I think you're looking for a punishment...."

Moi?

Crowded Nest

Mistress came home from her overnight visit to our state's capital Friday evening to find a somewhat more crowded nest.  My sister is visiting from the east coast to spend some time with my fading mother.  We've been spoiled with an empty nest these last few months. So adopting to an intruder could be a challenge, particularly when it came to scheduling some "reunion sex".

Rest assured, after 36 hours of denial, and Thursday spent in my cock cage, slave was ecstatic to see her, but actually showing my appreciation and earning my release required some delicate timing.  Would my sister return to the house at an inopportune time and interrupt our fun?

Mistress got home at around 4:30 pm, and the first order of business was a bike ride after a busy work day and her two hour drive. We showered together. But Mistress was sleepy, so there was a nap to fit in.

Fortunately, when we woke at around 6:30 pm, fully refreshed, my sister had still not returned to the house. Rest assured we took full advantage of that window of opportunity.

Plus Mistress had a chance to fill me in on her visit from Jay at lunch time, Thursday.

"It was brief, but nice slave.... but I have to say I was a little tired for the drive north....you know how it is after some vigorous fucking...."

Poor Mistress. Maybe she should have Ubered?

Yesterday morning, we were back to a familiar routine.  Turning on some music to mask the sounds of furtive lovemaking in our room, as my sister was sleeping across the hall.

Fortunately, she heads home this evening....

Cage Day for Slave

"So are you riding your bike tomorrow, slave?"

Mistress questioned me about my Thursday plans yesterday evening as we lolled in bed before dinner. I had not made the mistake of Tuesday night. Rest assured I had used my lips and tongue to tend to Mistress's needs with out a need for a reminder promptly on my return home.  No need to add to that demerit list.

"No Mistress.... I'm planning on visiting my mother at the end of the day."

(She's declining and needs some help eating these days).

"Well then, let's make sure you are in your cage...."

You see Mistress is on the road today, spending the night up the road in our tediously flat state capitol.

"When I'm out of town you know I like you on lock down."

"Your wish is my command, Mistress...."

 I already have the ring for my cage  in place, ready to enhance our morning wake up sex.

And there was another thing Mistress mentioned before bed time last night.

"When I mentioned to Jay that I was heading out of town, he said he might stop over before I leave, slave...."

So not only will I have a lonely bed tonight, it's possible that the bed will get "used" before I get home.

Busy Mistress.

Slave Earns a Punishment

At the end of the day, slave rode his bicycle home and discovered Mistress in our bed. She was resting after a busy day. I slid in next to her after a quick shower,  naked, sliding up against her lush body in a short nightie.  Soon we were both drifting off.

Our post work naps have become increasingly common it seems.

I woke around 6:45, and attempted to glean some hidden meaning out of the CNN exit polls, maybe a little too focused on the hotly contested NY primary. Mistress was waking too, and I announced I was heading downstairs to get dinner going.

Did anyone notice something there?

Mistress certainly did, pointing out while we were settling down for dinner that I had forgotten to offer to worship. Too focused I was on those pesky election results!

Oops.

Of course I made good on my "rain check" before we drifted off last night. Attention to her clean shaven folds was given priority over the CNN talking heads.

But I do have a feeling that there is a demerit on an imaginary sheet somewhere in Mistress's head, and that a comeuppance is due.

Back to Basics

It's always sad to be away from Mistress for two nights. The bed is cold and lonely, and its never a good night's sleep without her by my side.  So after two nights and three days in our nation's capitol, it was nice to be back in our cosy bed (we only have a double, no need for a king or queen for us) on Friday night.

I made sure to dip my balding noggin betwixt her firm and athletic thighs for a good night worship. But saved my own pent up demands for morning.

Things went rather quickly for our Saturday morning wake up sex.  Heck, it had been a couple of days for slave!

Then I was off to take care of some errands, grocery shopping for a dinner with two friends, and an outing with my cute grandsons in the afternoon. When I returned, Mistress, who had lunched with her mother, the Dowager Domme, was settled back into bed for our traditional late afternoon nap.  I joined her in bed and we both nodded off for an hour or so.

Fortunately, the dinner guests were not scheduled to arrive until 7:30 pm. Which led to Mistress's question when we woke at around 5:30 pm.

"Slave.... are we having sex this afternoon?"

"I was hoping, Mistress....."

Our afternoon encounter was a more drawn out and leisurely affair. It featured a prelude of worship, an interregnum of vigorous cock riding, and a dramatic crescendo with Slave on top, taking his own pleasure after Mistress had 2, maybe three cums of her own.....

I'm not sure whether our guests could detect the glow of well earned content when we both greeted them at the door.

HNT./ Missing Mistress

It's been a busy week for both Mistress and slave. And now I am off in our nation's capitol while Mistress has been left to her own devices back in River City.

"Maybe I should have made you wear the cage, slave...."

I suppose I should have asked before I left down.  But at least I have been following the "no touch" rule, looking forward until tomorrow evening when I will be reunited with her.

In the meantime, at least I can electronically page through my collection of provocative photos of Mistress and share a couple with our devoted readers.

Here's one from tight's season. It's the only thing I miss once sprng finally arrives.

But then this view of Mistress's un-tighted legs isn't so shabby, is it?

And finally, how about a photo of Mistress in some of her colorful under-garments:



I hope some illustrations will at least give me a pass until I can provide some more substantive blog-fodder for our devoted readers.

Cuckolding In the News

Mistress and slave have had a rather low key weekend so far here in River City. Friday involved dinner at home and an evening at a local jazz club, where my lovely Mistress caught more than a few eyes. In an odd coincidence she ran into a woman who was an underclassman at her small liberal arts college. I wasn’t flattering when I whispered that Mistress looked much younger than her supposedly younger friend.

Saturday I spent the morning with a cute grandson, and returned around 1 pm for an afternoon in bed….both of us needed the R&R. And we were thrilled to dodge a dreaded bullet. The couple who insisted we join them for dinner and a night at the symphony cancelled!!

(Happy dance from Mick, who is not much of a classical music buff!)

That left our evening open for a movie and a stop at Mistress’s favorite ice cream parlor, just a short walk up the street. Much more relaxing!

But today’s blog is not about Mick avoiding Segovia and dinner at a dreary country club. It’s about one of our little fascinations here at UCTMW – the science behind cuckolding!  And an article in yesterday’s NY Times shed some historical light on the phenomenon under the headline: “(Fathered by the Mailman?#55FFFE)  Fathered By the Mailman? Mostly an Urban Legend.”

It turns out some crackerjack scientists have done some intensive DNA and genealogical studies and discovered that the likelihood that someone else fathered a guy’s child are actually pretty low:

“In a commentary in Trends in Ecology and Evolution, Dr. Larmuseau and his colleagues argue that it’s long past time to toss out frequent cuckoldry as a myth. Studies relying on different methods in different cultures all point to cuckoldry rates of less than 1%.”

Apparently that’s not only true in the more “civilized” world, but also in less “developed” societies. (the difference is apparently based on the frequency in  neighborhoods with fast food restaurants and obese people). The tell is us pathetic human males have rather lazy sperm --

Beverly I. Strassmann, a University of Michigan anthropologist who gathered the data on paternity rates in Mali, agreed that widespread cuckoldry “was an urban legend. It seemed to have a life of its own.”

The evidence of low rates of cuckoldry comes not just from gene studies, she noted. In species where females mate with many males, the males tend to evolve sperm that are good at competing for fertilization. The males may produce large amounts of sperm, for example, and a high percentage swim well.

Humans, however, don’t rate in the sperm department.

“It’s of amazingly low quality,” Dr. Strassmann said. “Half the sperm can be duds; they can have two heads; they can be defective in all sorts of ways.”

The only way for men to have evolved comparatively ineffectual sperm, she added, was for them to have experienced high rates of paternity over time.

I’m having trouble getting my head around what my lazy, ineffectual, two headed sperm have to do with the likelihood that someone else is having fun with my wife.  Maybe one of our commenters can explain that to me. 

But I digress.  The more interesting factoid is that some human communities are more inclined to  cuckolding than others:

It’s not that widespread cuckoldry doesn’t exist in some cultures, Dr. Larmuseau said. Some South American tribes with high rates share a belief that more than one man can contribute to the formation of a fetus.

But Dr. Larmuseau suspects that these populations are the exception, not the rule. Humans have evolved to avoid cuckoldry, he said, because of our peculiar biology.

Human infants are born quite helpless, compared with the newborns of other animals, and they need a lot of food over a long period to fuel the growth of their calorie-hungry brains. Mothers needed fathers to help find the food.

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COMMENTS

“Babies really need good investment from the fathers,” Dr. Larmuseau said, “and the paternity has to be very sure in order for them to make those investments.”ckoldry rates of about 1 percent.

Of course, all of this is based on history, not the evolution of community values in the 21^st Century. And it relates to reproduction, not recreational sex!  While the rate of cuckoldry may have been historically low for women in their child bearing years, it says little about women of a certain age who, like Mistress, have the occasional  itch for a little sexual variety that just needs to be scratched. Or husbands who get a strange thrill when their wives grab for a little extra gusto via a sidedish.

We may need some more social science research to get to the bottom of this phenomenon.

Fortuitously Free Range Slave

Slave got the day off from his cage yesterday.

I think Mistress was feeling sorry for me, because I was a little under the weather.

And thank goodness for her merciful beneficence.

I had a mid-afternoon appointment at our local City Hall. But what I was unprepared for was that the Mayor, out of some fit of paranoia, had instituted a new security screening system, complete with some rent-a-cops doing the TSA thing. They not only had a walk through metal detector turned up very high, but some guy with a wand which kept clicking as he passed it down my right leg, where there was no apparent metal.

"Do you have some metal in your leg, sir?"

"Hmmmm.... not that I know of...."

"Do you mind if I run your hand up your thigh here...."

"Go for it."

One can only imagine what would have happened if I had my hard steel cock cage on. Alarms sounding! Real cops called! And if I had retreated once I noticed the metal detector, would that have set off alarms too?
I suppose I could have just gutted my way through it, offering to "drop trou..." and demonstrate that I was not the 2nd coming of the infamous underwear bomber. Now that would have given the rent-a-cops on duty something to talk about.

So it was very good luck that I had been a "free range" slave for the day.

And I had a special treat after my run in with security at City Hall. Mistress stopped by after her own downtown appointment for some late afternoon worship.  It had been a while since I had a chance to take a break from office drudgery and lavish Mistress's clean shaven folds with my avid lips and tongue. And although tights season is now over, much to my own disappointment, it does make it easier for Mistress simply to slide off her black undies and spread her legs for the attention she deserves.

Yum.

Back in the Cage

Slave played a little prank on our readers on Friday, portraying Mistress as turning a new leaf when it came to perpetual cage time. At least one of our readers "blew the whistle" on what was an April Fool's Day deception.

But there was a kernel of truth to the little tall tale told.

Mistress has pointed out that slave seemed to have completely shirked "cage time" in recent months.

"So many excuses slave...."

So we've agreed to a new protocol which I started yesterday.

If I'm not riding my bike to work, then it's cage time.

That way I have an incentive to get some exercise. Only bad weather, or maybe the need to use my car for a mid or post workday engagement, should be a good excuse for avoiding my cage.

So yesterday, after our wake up sex with my steel ring already in place, Mistress seemed pleased to shut my little lock in the morning and send me off to work in a more "high security" state of dress.  From time to time she would text me--

"How is my caged slave doing?"

So she seemed much amused by my status.

And when I got home, before collecting my cute little grand kids for a dinner engagement, she was happy to inspect my lock and then spring me loose for the rest of the evening.

So at least there was no "overnight" cage duty.  Being sprung loose made me all the more earnest as I provided some pre-dinner worship.

Today-- well it's barely 30 degrees out. But should be sunny.  Sounds like a good day to ride my bike!

Sentence Commuted

Mistress and slave are now back in River City, after two long days on the road. Fortunately we had the mobile wifi cranked up, with lots to entertain us on the long slog home. (It always seems longer traveling East than West. Go figure!)

 Our Friday started very early, with all of that new (and frustrating) snow, which covered the high desert with a magical glow at dawn:


By mid-day we we were working our tedious way across Kansas, past the little town that Truman Capote made infamous in his book "In Cold Blood".  Mistress has a strange attachment to the scene of that gruesome crime, which now seems mundane in an age of mass shootings and terrorism.

We finally stopped our exodus in Independence, MO. ,  home and final resting place of our beloved 33rd President. After a late dinner, slave was a little too tuckered for full blown sex, but made sure that Mistress did not have a big goose egg on her hypothetical "cum chart" with some pre-sleep worship.  And fortunately, there was ample time for some wake-up sex in our hotel room before we got back on the road to finish our journey.

And for those of you worried about slave's condemnation to an indeterminate sentence in his cock cage, at least one of our discerning readers put together the entry with the date. I will repeat his very perceptive comment here, in case some of you less than diligent readers missed it this morning:

I  think that Mick has pulled an April Fool's Day Joke on all of you. He will probably be punished by Molly if he did not get permission since it implied several things.

1. This posting hints that Molly has been too soft and lax in enforcing the rules which we all know is not true. Slave just told a lie about his Mistress...WHACK !!

2. This posting gives the impression that Molly wants the sensation of cold steel pressed up against her in the middle of the night. Not being there to snuggle and cuddle properly to keep Mistress warm and cozy in bed is a dereliction of duty....WHACK !!!

3. Lastly, Molly would never give up the "morning wood" or wakeup sex. Mick has a responsibility to be there at the ready and on command to serve Molly's needs.....WHACK !!!

I am sorry if I have burst your bubbles on the fantasy of Mick living life in the cage 24/7 but this is not about Mick after all. It is about Molly and serving one's Mistress. You all should be punished for forgetting that.... DOUBLE WHACK !!!! :-) 

Someone has been doing his homework!

New Quarter. New Rules.

Mistress and slave are cruising through Kansas this afternoon. Sadly, we rose to a couple of  new inches of snow on our car, and a "powder day" on the mountain. Since snow has been scarce this last month, it was particularly cruel for the snow gods to taunt us on our way out of town.

But today's entry is not a rant on the vagaries of precipitation, but a primal scream from a guy with a very tender ass, that has been squirming through the day against the well worn leather seats of our ancient Volvo.

You see, last night, Mistress had a "come to Jesus" meeting with her erstwhile slave.

I should have known there was a problem when she asked me to retrieve the riding crop that had been sitting unused for so many months, poking out from her hand tooled cowboy boot in our closet.

It wasn't long before she had me across the bed, pants and undies around my ankles, ass fully exposed.

"You deserve a punishment, slave....and tonight you're getting one!"

Silly me, I asked for an explanation. And got a litany:

- failure to turn off bathroom lights without being asked.

Whack

-wearing my underwear to bed, contrary to our contract.

Whack

-and, of course, coming up with myriad excuses for not wearing my cock cage....

Whack.

"We are headed home, slave....and it's time for me to crack down on all these rule violations...."

Whack.

As she laid into my ass, eliciting mucho squirming and whining, Mistress laid out her new expectations:

"When we get home, the cage is going on....indefinitely...."

Whack

"What do you mean, exactly, Mistress?", I managed to mutter as her crop landed once again on my glowing ass.

"Your little blogger friend Terri seems to get along just fine with no scheduled release time or date, slave.....It's time for you to get with that sort of program...."


Whack....

"You don't mean me sleeping in the cage, do you Mistress?"

"Of course I do.... your cock will get used to it!"

Whack....

"But what about 'wake-up' sex....How will I fuck you with the cage on...."

"Your tongue can do just as well, slave....and I suppose I could find substitutes if I get a hankering for cock..."

Whack....

"No doubt, Mistress..."

So not only are we heading back to the heartland, away from our idyllic hideaway, but slave has a whole new reality to look forward to...it could be a long April.