Kinksters Abroad

Mistress and slave have been enjoying some time with our daughter - who is struggling to squeeze us into her exhausting social life - and also seeing the sights here in Belgium.  The weather has been surprisingly dry and warm, allowing us a nice day touring on Saturday in a nearby town known for it's art, Cathedrals and canals.

But when kinksters are sight seeing, it's always funny what catches the eye. In an old 11th Century Castle yesterday we stumbled about a small "Museum of Torture" that had me clicking away on my I-phone.

There was the poor fellow to the left, restrained in repose on some sort of rack, ready for some water boarding.  I wonder if this is where Dick Cheney got his inspiration?

Then there was a more mobile restraint system, helpful in transporting your slave without the threat of escape.

What would a robust collection of restraints be without a straightjacket or manacles:

These collars (right) lined with nasty, rusty spikes would certainly be useful for punishing a recalcitrant slave, making me particularly grateful that my Mistress limits her punishments to the occasional cropping:



But a sure sign that the designers of these implements back in those distant centuries were males was something that was glaringly missing: not a single cock cage!  I'm sure if Diane had been about in those days that glaring omission would have been corrected quickly!

Off....

Hello all.  Mistress and slave are off to Europe to visit our studious daughter. The one who told us last night over dinner that "my social life is kind of exhausting".

Poor girl.

We were able to overcome jet lag and the overnight flight here long enough yesterday afternoon for some later afternoon, pre-dinner sex.... so give us bonus points for avoiding an international travel abstinence  day.

Once we get our orientation here we hope to provide more coherent updates.  In the meantime, it sure feels good to be an ocean away from the yammering talking heads and nasty exchanges about the Presidential election!

Have good weekends devoted readers!

Do I Have Too Much Leather On?

That's what Mistress asked her dutiful slave after she was done primping for her date night with Jay yesterday evening.  She had told me that she would be heading out to Jay's house at around 6 pm last night for her "dinner, plus" night out. So Slave saddled up and headed home on my bike a little early, just for the chance to see her priming herself for her evening with her side-dish.

I found her resting in bed, as is often the case when I arrive home after 5 pm.

"I figure it might be a long night, slave.....so a nap would be helpful."

She indulged my offer to worship before she dressed for her night out.

"Do you think Jay will be annoyed if I take the edge off, Mistress....."

"It'll be our secret slave...."

Yum.

It took her about 20 minutes to apply her make-up, slither into some sexy black panties, and those Domme-ish leather pants and boots.

"Remember slave.... no touching.... you'll just have to wait until tomorrow evening... if you're lucky."

"Yes, Mistress....."

Oh, and my answer to her question.

"There's never enough leather, Mistress...."

2 Million Page Viewers Can't Be Wrong!

Mistress and slave were a little too busy over the weekend. Her sister was in town, so there was a little too much socializing and not enough down time. Of course, we did squeeze in some morning sex both Saturday and Sunday. I broke out Mistress’s power tool yesterday morning to add a little potency to her wake-up orgasm, which paved the way for slave to take his own pleasure in a most gratifying way.

Then it was a long bike ride before taking Mistress’s sister and her husband to the Pussycats game.

And while Mistress may not have exceeded her cum quota  over the weekend, after all that hard core fucking with Jay Friday morning, there is an encore scheduled tonight.  Jay’s son is out of town this week, which opens up his window of availability for a change.  Mistress filled me in on the addition to her calendar yesterday afternoon.

“Jay and I are getting together tomorrow night slave…..”

“Will you be spending the night, Mistress….”

“I think I will, slave….”

There was some discussion about whether I would be in the cage for her sleepover. The decision was that I would be caged unless I rode my bike to work in the morning. The threat of Chastity as an incentive to exercise is a clever way to keep slave in shape, isn’t it?

In addition to Mistress’s night out, the big news today is the news that UCTMW went over the 2,000,000 page views threshold. It’s an arbitrary mile stone for a frivolous enterprise like this one.  While we have never been listed on the “Best Sex Blog” cite, or profiled in the New York Times as sex blog pioneers, we have also outlasted a lot of our colleagues and competitors. I mean, look what happened to Buzz Feed!  Having started this about 8 years ago, we keep on plugging, and have a world wide “following” who likely get off more on the occasional images of Mistress’s lush bodies than slave’s snarky prose.  Example: over the last week we had page views from the following countries, and more:

United States

2928

Canada

368

United Kingdom

337

Germany

174

Poland

98

Spain

87

Australia

80

Singapore

78

France

76

Netherlands

75

Are some folks in Poland and Singapore who read UCTMW to improve their facility with English?  Or is it just for the pictures?

So what keeps us going?  Although we love the comments and interactions with some of our regulars, I really write this blog as a semi-daily amuse bouche for Mistress, to accompany our wake-up worship sessions. As long as she is amused, Slave will likely keep on blogging.

Tights Season!

Slave had an unscheduled abstinence day on Friday.  And I suspect I should have seen it coming. All that loud and raucous sex I heard coming from the UCTMW executive suite had taken its toll.

"I'm pretty sore after all that hard fucking, slave."

So while slave was allowed to "clean up" after Jay headed home on Friday morning, there was no opportunity for slave to get "sloppy seconds" either Friday morning or at the end of the work day.

"You'll just have to wait until tomorrow morning, slave....."


Maybe I should add some details about our Friday morning after Mistress's sleepover with Jay.  That can be a touchy thing as the three of us wake up and try to pretend that all of this is "normal".  After two rounds of fucking, Mistress came down to greet me with a kiss, and had me brew a latte for her slave, who was still in bed. She dutifully carried my concoction up to her lover.

Slave stayed downstairs, watching the news, in no rush for my morning shower, thereby giving Jay a little extra space to be the temporary "man of the house".  Another 45 minutes or so later, Slave was finishing his corn flakes as Jay and Mistress waltzed downstairs.  Mistress was still in her revealing nightie, but Jay was dressed and ready to go.  The two of us shared some small talk on the overnight political developments, and we viewed a short video on the hijinks at the Al Smith dinner in NYC.  Just two guys shooting the political shit, as you might around the proverbial office water cooler.  If Jay thinks it's odd that I step aside on such nights to allow him free range in the marital bed, he no longer lets on.

Of course, it was back to normal here by Saturday morning.  Mistress was recovered enough to give slave the green light again.  And the wait was certainly worth it.

After a leisurely Saturday morning in bed, our day picked up as slave entertained his cute grandsons for a few hours and Mistress caught up on some work. Then we dressed for a fancy dinner at a downtown restaurant to celebrate the birthday of Mistress's younger sister.  The Dowager Domme was there in all her black finery. But the big fashion statement of the night was the arrival of tights season here in River City.  It was very summer like earlier in the week, but a chill settled in yesterday, forcing Mistress to go to that drawer where she keeps her hose locked away during the warmer months.  As you can see, she had some ankle boots on to go with her black tights.  The fashion statement certainly got slave's motor running, and turned a few male heads when we finished our dinner and ditched the family crowd to stop by a local jazz club to end our evening.  And although we were both tired and a little full after dinner to enjoy some late night nookie, I am most certain that things will be looking up this morning when Mistress wakes from her slumber.

Relegated

I've always enjoyed the way this word is used in the context of the English soccer league. "Relegate" is defined as "consign or dismiss to an inferior rank or position". The concept is that if your home team is fairing poorly in the major league, lingering in the cellar of the standings, the risk is that you will be bounced to an inferior (minor)  league next season. "Relegation" from the Premier league is a fate dreaded by sports fans as the ultimate loss of communal pride. When the sad, pitiful fate of relegation befalls your team, it gets the competitive juices flowing with a focused determination to  get back to the Bigs after a sad season swimming with the other losers in the lower tier. (It's something we could use in our nation's professional and collegiate leagues, where some teams become perpetual cellar dwellers with no apparent incentive to improve and become competitive, let alone champs.)

But at this moment the terms applies to your humble slave. I'm definitely relegated to the minors this morning.

Jay, Mistress's recently missing lover, finally made his way here last night. We went out to dinner for some Vietnamese in a funky downtown joint, then returned here, where the two lovebirds were soon headed to bed in the "UCTMW executive suite".  Slave took the adjoining bed in our daughter's room.

My sense is that there wasn't much action last night.

But this morning....  as I've been catching up on the news downstairs, I've heard the rather avid, accelerating  moans of my wife as Jay has been pounding into her in these pre-dawn hours.

They now seem to be in round two.

And while Jay has never been interested in inviting slave in on the action, there is a certain sexual buzz   in hearing your wife moaning in the throes of passion as the floor shakes a bit above your head. Definitely a good way to start the morning for my wife and her on again, off again lover.  But I have a feeling that slave will not have the chance for his own fun until after work tonight, at the earliest.

Can I hear a "poor slave"?  

The good news is that "I'll be back" sooner than the following season.

Bad Hombres

Here in River City, in the heart of "swing state" country, Mistress and slave are counting the minutes until this long and ugly political campaign finally ends. So desperate are we to tune it out that we plan to leave the country for the last 10 days of the campaign. At least we can get in the front of the Q for political asylum if things go badly, right?

But of course, we couldn't look away from last night's train wreck of a final debate. And snickered when Mr. Trump warned of all those "bad hombres" he was going to track down and deport.  Was he talking about these guys.

Of course, Mistress has had a few "bad boy" suitors on AM who purport to be "doms", but they tend to melt away when Mistress declines to engage in on-line smut talk before any face to face encounter.

"I think some of these guys are just into the cyber-thrill slave...all talk and no spanking!"

SAdly, the Donald's slur of immigrants from south of the border was quintessentially sexist. Slave would be more interested in hearing about all those Mal Chicas free ranging here until he builds that big assed wall. Like this one on the left.

 Finally, without wanting to get anyone's hopes up, there is a rumor that Mistress's long lost lover Jay will be coming by tonight. Should he actually materialize, there are plans for dinner out (the three of us) and a sleepover after, with slave consigned to one of our daughter's rooms. But lets not get our hopes up.

What Losing Streak?

It was a relatively rare activity free weekend at home for Mistress and slave, after what seems like a lot of travel so far this fall, with more to come.

And while Slave's football teams both collapsed in the 2nd halves this weekend, maybe their lack of success was a counter-indicator of what was in store for slave in the sack.

I definitely "scored", both on defense and offense.

Saturday started as normal, with some gratifying wake up sex, and a bike ride.  Then slave was off for some time with my cute grandkids.  We both ended up back in the sack by late afternoon.  But after our nap, Mistress was definitely feisty.

"Get out my supplies slave....."

I retrieved her strap on, the faux cock and lubricant for her use.

"What about the riding crop, slave?"

Hmmmm..... how had I forgotten that?  In fact she found it in the closet herself, and required slave to assume the position that made my aging ass available for her use, and abuse.

"I'm not sure what this punishment is for slave....maybe just a deterrant for future bad behavior?"

She lit into my bottom with about 10 robust strokes that had me squiriming and whining by the time she was done.

"Aww, poor slave....I think you'll survive...."

No doubt, my bottom was red and tender, but hardly harmed.  And it got my submissive juices flowing for what came next.

Mistress lubed up her "tool" and went to work, sliding onto the bed behind my prone body and (with a little help from me) bringing her tool to bear on her slave's rear entrance.

She was soon pumping into me, slowly but surely building to her own cum, collapsing onto me, then returning to a slow churning rythmn that seemed to delivery another follow up orgasm before she came to rest on top of her well pegged slave.

When she caught her breath, she pulled out, slid out of her harness and gave her slave direction to insert my aneros. Then it was my turn to do the plunging until we were both sweaty and satisfied.

I returned the favor Sunday morning by deploying Mistress's favorite power tool to give her a nice powerful cum that preceded more conventional love making.

So with all that sexual action, I can simply ignore the pitiful seasons my alma mater and the Pussycats are putting together, and look forward to ski season!

AM Outtakes

Mistress and slave have been back to the grind these last few days, sustaining ourselves on our daily wake-up sex and evening worship sessions.

Here in River City we are at the apex of the Presidential campaign - a swing county in a swing state - so the last two days saw both Donald "The Pussy Grabber"  Trump and a former President known for his creative use of a cigar in town for back to back appearances. When I posted on facebook that we might want to consider "hiding our wives and daughters" until both had left town, I was berated by one feminist friend for suggesting that the using of the possessive adjective suggested I saw my wife and daughters as "property" that I could put under house arrest at will.

If only she knew who was the slave in this household!

The only amusement has been filtering and responding to the various supplicants Mistress has had in her AM account over the last few days. Most seem to be "attached" guys who whine in various ways about their "passionless" marriages.  Mistress has no sympathy for these guys.  The last she wants to do is spend time with some guy who feels sorry for himself.

Of course, there are some singles on the site, or guys who claim they have their spouse's permission. While there might be some skepticism about those fellows, they can at least survive the first round of screening.

But Mistress is selective. And she is not reluctant to screen out some guys once she eyes their photos. After all chemistry is key and part of that is physical appearance.

One guy, from a more rural part of our state (aka "Trump Country"), refers to himself as a "Bad Boy" who says he knows that seemingly high achieving women sometimes yearn for a good spanking and a take charge guy.  He even sent Mistress a weekend "reading assignment" from a web site called Dominant Soul. He claims this is the training regimen he would impose should Mistress give him the opportunity. Here's an excerpt:

My training objectives for my submissive/babygirl is to make her an extremely sexually responsive woman who is multi-orgasmic and a multi-squirter. My second training objective is to be on her mind throughout her day, wherever she may be so she feels constantly possessed and consumer by me. My ultimate objective is to train a sub to achieve Cum-on-Command via a visual signal, verbal command or via text message to her mobile, to achieve an instant orgasm without any physical sexual contact.

Daily Routine:

▪                Before leaving her home every day, she must be wearing an item of ownership (necklace, bracelet, anklet, choker, or ring) that reminds her constantly of Master. The item must be worn in plain sight in public for other to see.

▪                Before leaving for work in the morning, she must text me a photo of her outfit. This is not to control her wardrobe in anyway but to be able to compliment her on how sexy and beautiful she looks at the beginning of her day. Every morning she receives a text at 7AM wishing her good morning and every night at 11PM she receives a text wishing her sweet dreams.

▪                At lunch, she must perform 100 Kegel exercises at her desk then text me about her day.

▪                Every day after work, when she changes out of her work clothes, she must insert the Ben Wa balls into her pussy and wear them until bedtime. She must wear the ben wa balls for all social, exercise, yoga or work out activities.

▪                Every night before bedtime, BabyGirl must masturbate until she cums 3-5 times.

▪                Whenever BabyGirl masturbates, she must first insert a butt plug in her ass, insert Ben Wa balls into her pussy and wear nipples clamps (with bells) on her breasts. (All sex toys provided by Master).

Now it's a little hard to imagine Mistress fitting all this masturbating into her busy day, particularly considering that her slave can provide "hands free" services.  But the deal breaker was the photo.  This gentleman clearly tips the scales at over 240 and while he claims to be in his 50's, he looks a decade older.  

"He looks like some red neck sheriff, slave."

True, maybe Carroll O'Conner in that "Mr. Tibbs" TV series from the 1970's. 

I guess we need to keep looking, Mistress.

Is There a Bot For This?

Back in River City, Mistress and slave are settling into a few weeks of the grind before a trip in late October to visit our daughter who is across the pond working on a  Masters degree.

And while Jay remains vaguely in the picture, hampered by child care issues, and yet a little snippy about Mistress’s travel schedule, we are still sorting through a variety of AM applicants.

Slave is in charge of deleting most of the “attached” suitors, who seem to try a little too hard to explain why they need succor from their sterile marriages.

Isn’t that their problem? 

But there are a few single guys, or those who claim they have permission, that have surfaced, so we are now in the vetting process.  But it all is a bit of a hassle for a Mistress who has work to do. Thankfully she has her “corresponding secretary” to help her sort wheat from chaff. But it still puts a burden on Mistress to do the final screening, presumably over drinks or dinner, or by phone call interviews.

Which brings up the alternative: in this world of artificial intelligence, isn’t it a shame that there is not a faux male sex robot to provide Mistress with some sexual attention?  Yesterday the Washington Post had an article titled "Don't Worry about Sex Robots.  They Won’t Ruin Sex”. Here is the  link. The discussion is about some recent popular media depictions of sex robots as a replacement for personal attention (like the HBO series Westworld) and the feminist backlash:

Anti-sexbot sentiment is so intense that it has even prompted a feminist grass-roots collective, the Campaign Against Sex Robots. In its mission statement, the organization equates the relationship between a sex robot and its owner to that of a john and a non-consenting prostitute, breathlessly warning that sex robots will “reduce human empathy,” “reinforce power relations of inequality and violence” and “sexually [objectify] women and children.”

I suspect that all of this  feminist outrage may be triggered by the fear that men will rely on sex-robots to the detriment of women in an already competitive sexual marketplace.

But with a little imagination, and a lot of technology, couldn’t all those geeks in Silicon Valley come up with a pleasing male like android who could do just as good a job pleasing a Mistress with high standards as the lady bots in WestWorld purportedly do for the male guests?

 

Certainly there would be no problem in engineering a special occasion cock that never has performance issues. Or, even better, would not get all chafed and irritated of sealed away in a cock cage between uses.

And with such technology available, Mistress would never have to worry about a sidedish with child care issues, or wasting a cocktail hour on some guy who turns out to be  much dud-ier than his pithy AM messages would otherwise suggest.

Maybe it's time for GE to bring good cocks to life.

Slow Road Back to River City

Mistress and slave bid a final farewell to my late mother's favorite Jersey shore beach town Monday morning. Just in time for our departure the clouds lifted and the sun came out. So after some robust wake-up sex we took a leisurely bike ride and enjoyed omlets at a seedy beach front joint celebrating the last day of their season with complementary mamosas. A final walk on the beach was a good way to say good-bye to the place I spent many summers as a child.

Of course we could have powered through the drive back to the heartland.  That had been common in years past. But for some reason neither one of us was in a rush to get back to "normal". So we pulled off the highway in the "Laurel Highlands" of Western PA, finding a room at a rather strange off the beaten track lodge with a connected "wildlife park". You can tell things can get weird when there is a diapered baby kangaroo to greet you at the check-in desk.

The rooms here are very woody and rustic, with bent wood head boards.

"Dang, Mistress..... if only we had some rope. I could have fun improvising a switch day for you..."

"I thought you were a boy scout, slave.... don't they come prepared?"

If it was only tights season, I could have improvised with some of Mistress's black tights.

We found a local restaurant which was clearly a "Trump country" gathering spot, and had a cheap, home cooked meal. Mistress was pleased to discover chocolate pudding as part of the salad bar.  Slave couldn't decide whether this was a suitable substitute for blue cheese dressing, so passed.


Before bed time, and Mistress's nightly worship, slave was assigned to sort through the latest group of Ashley Madison suitors. So far there have been no diamonds in the rough that have stepped forward. Instead it seems like the usual group of suburbanites who need to explain why their marriage has become sterile in their first message. Slave knows who to delete and which ones to have Mistress glance at for a second look. But there is no rush. If there is a new "side dish" out there it will come to pass.

In the meantime, Mistress is already wondering if we can't stay here in the PA mountains a little longer.

Hunkered Down in Hurricane Leftovers

Mistress and slave are on the Jersey shore this weekend for a family memorial service. We enjoyed a leisurely drive east in bright sunshine on Thursday and Friday, but the sun has long since abandoned us and we are now wallowing in the remnants of that nasty hurricane that climbed up the coast over the last few days.

Fortunately, we got in some bike riding Friday afternoon and yesterday morning before the rain arrived. And Mistress and slave know how to have a good time when stuck inside for hours at a time in a nice hotel room with a view.

Yesterday there was some wake-up sex before our ride and breakfast at a greasy spoon with an ocean view.  And while we logged in the appropriate amount of time with family later in the morning, we wisely retreated into the dry environs of our hotel for most of the afternoon. After absorbing news about Mr. Trump's latest scandal, and portions of another miserable performance by my alma mater, there was round two.

"Why don't you insert your device, slave (the aneros)...."

I improvised lubricant with some hotel provided moisterizer, and pleased Mistress with my lips and tongue before she rode her slave's cock for another cum or two.

We had to abandon our hotel room at 5 for a large family dinner at a local restaurant, but passed on the "after party". With the rain only intensifying, it seemed that the most prudent option was to return to that warm bed.

New Strategy?

Mistress and slave are on the road this weekend. A family memorial service has us heading to the Jersey shore, with a stop last night in Gettysburg, PA.  Mistress is still snoozing in our cozy bedroom upstairs in a reputedly haunted house. I'm down in the parlor, early rising as always, catching up on the news.

The best news is that the hurricane no longer seems to be heading further up the coast to where we will be this weekend. Though we feel for our old neighbors in Central Florida. We know what it's like from our years down there -- including the hassle of long power outages and missing roofs in the summer of 2004.

When I last posted I was touting the likelihood of a cuckold sleepover Tuesday evening. Sadly, things did not work out. Another last minute cancellation by Jay due to child care issues left Mistress with only the solace of Slave's work-a-day cock.

On the drive East yesterday she talked about her frustration.

"It's getting annoying, slave....It's nice having a lover, but it seems he's rarely available when I am...."


It seems it's been more than 6 weeks now since the two of them were able to get together. He watched the Clinton / Trump debate with us, but no sex.  Then he went to a Thursday night football game with me. But Mistress was out of town.  Is Jay turning into my buddy rather than Mistress's sidedish?

Over dinner last night we discussed options. How to "acquire" a new or alternative lover for a sexually adventurous wife?  It's not easy in our town, and Mistress's job does not get her exposed to potential partners on a regular basis.

"Maybe test the waters at AM again?", I speculated.

"We'd have to start with a different identity and profile, slave...."

We even talked about new names....

"Bathsheba"?

"That's a little weird, slave..."

"Rachel"?

"What's with the biblical names?"

"Veronica?"

Mistress raised her eyebrow.

"Yeah.... that works..... I always liked Veronica...."

This might give us a worthy distraction from the family drama of a weekend memorial service.

Cuckolding Dry Spell Over?

Mistress spent the day on the road for work yesterday, but gave me a call mid-morning with a scheduling change.

"Jay and I were talking slave.... we had been planning to get together tomorrow night, and he wants to come over for dinner and spend the night...."

Hmmm.... another debate night with Jay?  Last Monday Jay came over and we all watched the monumental showdown betwixt the two presidential candidates. Jay is a bit of a political junkie, so he and I stuck with the "drama " until the end. Mistress retired early, and the understanding in advance was that Jay would go home when the political fireworks were over. So it was an unusually  chaste night for Mistress and Jay.

On the other hand, tonight the agenda is different: Slave will prepare dinner for the two lovebirds. And while we may spend a little time watching the "undercard" debate between the two boring white guys running for VP, I suspect the will both retire early to the marital bed, leaving slave to clean up afterwards . . . (Get your minds out of the gutter.... I meant the dishes!).

While slave will be sleeping alone tonight, it's only fair that Mistress gets in some extra-curricular action after all these weeks of relying on the same old lips, tongue and work-a-day cock, isn't it?

Childhood Trigger?

Mistress has been off to the windy city with the Dowager Domme for a few days for her sister's birthday fete. Slave was left to his own devices, and Mistress indulged me by not requiring me to wear my cage Friday or Thursday. My bike ride to work is an excellent alibi, isn't it?

She also indulged me in another way: allowing me to "touch" on Friday.

"But only once, slave...."

I was happy to oblige.

Now she's on the way back, and I'm looking forward to a Saturday evening at home with her.

But since I have little of substance to report on, why not flashback to my childhood. I was a big comic book fan and collector in elementary school, hooked on both the DC and Marvel galaxy of super-heroes. And of course there were plenty of bondage scenes with Wonder Woman and a variety of other heroes and heroines.  But I recently noticed this Superman cover posted over at Instagram, which brought back some fond memories of youthful curiosity.

Do you think this was the seed for my femdom curiosity?