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.

Tights Taunts / HNT

With the early cold wave here in River City comes an unexpected dividend.

Lots of ladies on the streets downtown with their tights taunting a tights fetishist such as myself.

And of course Mistress enjoys teasing her Slave... working on a weak spot for full effect.

Yesterday as I was "slaving away" at my desk, my cell phone beeped with a photo from Mistress.

"new tights" she messaged.  Here is the photo, an odd and confusing perspective, but apparently a from the top close up of Mistress after she slithered into a new pair of "peek-a-boo" tights:

It's an odd image, all curves, texture and a little hint of the aperture that makes her Oh so fuckable in those tights.

Then, when slave got home I found Mistress busily working in the UCTMW Executive Suite, with nothing on but her tights and a black bra.

Such a tease! 

After giving me the opportunity to worship, we whipped up some dinner, and watched a little TV.  Mistress was next to me on the couch, her legs in those same taunting tights stretched across her Slave's lap, allowing me to stroke and rub and kiss and fondle those tight clad toes, feet, calves and thighs.

As you can imagine, by the time our show had ended, Slave could take no more of the taunt. Fortunately, Mistress was in an indulgent mood, allowing me to unleash my pent up lust in the fashion you might expect.  

I can't think of a better nightcap, can you?

 

Dear Molly and Mick - The Case of the Naked Primper and Her Whiny Husband

This is one of those days when, in search of blogfodder, we "borrow" a hapless request for advice (this time to "Dear Prudence") and give a more straight forward response than can be provided in "family friendly" publications:
 

Wife walks around nude

Dear Prudence, I am having a rather silly problem with my otherwise wonderful wife. She gets up early every morning before work to go to the gym, and then takes a shower when she gets back to our small, one-bedroom apartment. After her shower, she says she gets overheated easily while we're both getting ready for work. I can understand that -- I've already showered while she's gone, she's been exercising, and then she's showered, plus she needs to use a blowdryer to style her hair. But her way of dealing with this is to walk around almost naked (in just her bra and underwear) until she absolutely has to get dressed to leave for work. She eats breakfast like this, puts on her makeup this way -- she basically just goes about her morning routine with barely any clothes on and sometimes she skips the bra entirely. Under other circumstances, I would enjoy this. But when I'm trying to get myself ready for the day, this is kind of distracting. I find myself getting aroused, and since we're both trying to get out the door for work, it's a bad time for sex. But then I get to work and I'm frustrated all day long. I've tried raising this issue with her (delicately) and she gets offended that I can't control myself after we've been married for eight years, which I find offensive. She's the one walking around half-naked. How can I try to resolve this with her peacefully?

M & M Response:

Well this is certainly a first world problem isn't it? Some folks have a 5 mile walk to the nearest water supply, and you have to "endure" the spectacle of your attractive wife prancing around semi-attired in the morning, making your pathetic little dick all tingly?  We have a friend Suzanne who would suggest you go buy your wife a cock cage to lock on you so this "problem" will go away. Here at the UCTMW World HQ, Mistress also rejects the 1950's standards of morning attire that you seem to subscribe to. I'm sure Ward Cleaver never had to worry about June showing off her perky little breasts over her morning coffee. Lumpy Rutherford might pop in and be all scandalized.

We solve the problem by scheduling some early am wakeup sex to take the edge off, but only if Mistress is pleased with my preliminary worship services. And if she determines I am not worthy, she is more than happy to flaunt herself at the expense of me going off to work all horny and longing for her. And, by the way, it's not just in the morning I get the treatment which seems to try your cpacity for self control. How many times have I had to "endure" her nude sun bathing at our SW hideaway while I am doing my field slave duties, chopping back brush or persecuting prairie dogs? And when we are indulging ourselves in some "must see TV" here in the evening, she's usually in some short, silky lingerie, with her lady bits uncovered, teasing me with their proximity and provocative aroma.

Rather than whine about this "distraction", maybe it's time you "man up", fall to your knees and embrace your role as the hapless victim of her early morning tease and denial.

M & M

In case you are interested, here is the much lamer advice that Prudence provided to this whiner:

 

-->

Ah, tempus fugit! At this stage in my life, the way I turn off my husband is to walk around naked.  This is a sweet dilemma, so it's too bad you both get so annoyed with each other over the fact that after eight years the sight of your undressed wife bouncing around the apartment is so arousing. I get letters from women wishing that their husbands weren't lounging around with the family jewels draped over the upholstery (they do not find it a turn-on).  But I think yours is the first from a guy who finds his wife's toilette so distracting he can't get out the door.  But surely, once you're at the office, you are able to focus on the marketing data and don't spend the whole day moaning over your morning testicular vasocongestion. If you're not able to move on and save it for later, you sound very juvenile. Instead of continuing to fight over this, try taking action  (not the kind of action that will make you late for work). Buy a pretty, short, sheer robe for your wife and give it to her as a gift. Explain that she's so damn attractive that if she were a little more covered in the morning it would help you focus on the day ahead. Tell her she of course doesn't have to wear it, but you know that color looks great on her, and you hope it's lightweight enough that she can put it on without getting overheated. Let's hope that she takes your gesture in good spirit and likes the robe. Of course, if it's silky and sexy, seeing her in it may have the unintended consequence of overheating you.

HNT/ Switch Day Outtake

It would be a shame to waste some of the unused photos from our Easter Sunday Switch day. In fact, almost irreverent.

And this shows that you don't need fancy overpriced bondage equipment. An old, faded beach towel, torn into 3 inch strips will make do in a pinch.

BTW, last night Mistress's Mom, the Dowager Domme, hosted a fundraising event for a local politician with larger aspirations. She had some of her work colleagues there, who dutifully came to nibble on the shrimp and cheese cubes, drink a little wine, and listen attentively to Mr. Aspirations. Among the assembled throng was the local fellow who sussed out our blog a couple of years back. We see him occasionally here in the neighborhood or Mistress encounters him at work. Did we call him R here a while back?

In any event, he's one of the few people in River City who knows the secret identity of Mick and Molly. Sadly, with all the milling professional colleagues lurking, we did not have a chance to catch up on developments in the blog world. I did want to ask him if he's checked out the UCTMW Tumblr page, which has been fun to update with some reblogs along with some "blasts from the past" photos from the Molly Semi-Nakers catalog. It's always about finding new uses for the same old content, isn't it?

HNT: Flash Back Thursday

Those of you on Facebook likely have noticed the gimmick of posting old photos of family, friends, or particularly oneself on "flashback Thursdays". The "selfies" from kindergarten, high school or college are particularly cute, or narcissistic, depending on your point of view.

And of course there's long been "HNT", here in the sexblogosphere. Yesterday Sin commented that photos are what really drive page clicks, not fabrications by lady sex bloggers, noting that smutty Instagram or Tumblr pages seem more popular than blogs these days. I've even placed a few of them on our blog role here at UCTMW. My favorite is Temptation Row, which collects steamy BDSM photos from a variety of sites, paired with cheeky comments from an English author who also writes smutty little BDSM novellas and stories she sells on Amazon.  Check her out. (Maybe Donna can do a review?)

I'm still waiting for Sin and Suzanne to post some "selfies", like we have done here over the years. But it may be a long wait!

But in the spirit of combining HNT and Flashback Thursday, here's a little flashback of Mistress in some cute undies that by now have probably seen better days:

HNT / Crack That Whip

Lots of things to share with our devoted readers, who I expect turn to this page first thing every morning to find out what's really happening in the world of sex, sports, and personal grooming.

First off, I had promised to share some photos of Mistress's V-Day gift, which she has taken a shine too.... Other than when she's suited up for work or the gym, it seems she has been in this silky confection all week. I do like the way you can see her tasty little nubs poking through the front. Don't you?

In addition, I thought I would share this story reporting on the Twelve Most Sexually Satisfied Countries in the World. I must say I was a little surprised to see Switzerland at the top of the list. We traveled there once, and it seemed like a very uptight group. But then it's also a pretty prosperous place, giving them the leisure time to pursue more carnal objectives.  You have to admit that Roger Federer sure looks like he's never had a problem scoring, on or off the court.

Not particularly surprising to me was the absence of the USA, Canada, Ireland,  England and Russia from the list. I guess those are the up tight countries?  Another way to look at it: If your country's team made the semi-final in Men's or Women's hockey at the Sochi Olympics, the odds are you've not been getting your fair share of nooky.  I would enjoy hearing from our readers who live in nation's that did not make the list what they will be doing in the coming year to pick up the slack.

Finally, speaking of Russia, I am sure all of you heard about the shocking incident in Sochi yesterday when roving Cossacks deployed horse whips on members of the band Pussy Riot , who had assembled in their tight dresses and ski masks to sing a tune that poked a little fun at Dear Leader Putin. Here is one link with some video: Cossacks Whip Pussy Riot Maybe they were still cranky about their Hockey team falling to the mighty Finns?

So the post- Communist Russians have revived the Cossack tradition, the guys who were Czarist heavies best known for the Pogroms that burned Jewish villages back in the day? In this country it would be like letting the KKK provide extra security at the Alabama / Auburn game.

(I hear some of you saying: "You mean they don't do that down there?)

When this news broke, I immediately got on the gonzo-wire and asked our Man in Sochi to untangle himself from the Geishas and hit the streets to provide some in depth analysis from his unique perspective:

(Sochi) Cossacks???????

Cossacks???????

WTF is going on around here!!!

Well the big story around the Olympic village is

Cossacks whip Pussy......................... Riot

What is this, one of Donna, Sin or Nila's stories?

Seriously Cossacks?

I though they were all killed off 500 years ago!!

Nope the  reporters around here aren't buying it

Why those Cossacks didn't even have horses.....

Had to be fake Cossacks hired for a promotional stunt to promote Pussy Riot

That is one school  of thought here in the Olympic village among the jaded press corps

Course if you watch the video

Could be just a bunch of assholes dressed as Cossacks (sans horses) hired by Putin

Putin............ why didn't you pay a little  extra for horses, man????

Then you could have sold the story to Fox News 

My vote goes to the asshole theory

Course I knew this country is a few years behind the times

But 500 years??????????

Oh well I am happy to report that the Olympic village has not yet been sacked by Cossacks

If they come rest assured the WC has a foolproof escape plan.......

James Bond style

With Pussy Riot!

Oh well I still haven't made it up to the Alpine skiing venue to actually watch the races

Been too busy right here is Sochi

BTW

Shout out right here to the Japanese national Geisha girls team

GREAT JOB LAST NIGHT GEISHA GIRLS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Nevetheless............. as the Seer of Sochi predicted 

Ted Liggety wins gold in the Grand Slalom

The Seer saw once again

Its just a gift I have

Oh well

Got to go my friends

Heard these alleged Cossacks are having a party

Got to go watch the hijinks  that ensue 

Your man is Sochi is going into the lions den

Mick 

SEND LAWYERS GUNS AND MONEY  if you don't hear from me......

The in danger's path 

Intrepid reporter always

WC

Thanks, WC. I am wondering if 'Nilla can come up with a story involving Cossacks and Horse Whips. (But please, no tentacles, unless they take some Cossack's ass!).

HNT/ Consequences for a Surly Slave

I thought I had been a good Slave this week. Of course, there was probably a little grousing about the intrusions upon our previously empty nest, and the incontinent cat that recently has substituted a favorite couch for her littler box. But last night I apparently crossed the Mistress's theoretical line when I said something snarky after she put two of our bicycles on the disabled list over a rather short time span last evening.

(One had a flat tire; the other a slipped chain.... what are the odds of that?)

So I suppose I said something inappropriately sarcastic, like "two in one night, Mistress.... now that's a record.....", probably motivated by the fact that it would be Slave's duty to don my "bike mechanic" persona and fix both of them before a big ride we contemplate over the weekend.

Yes, I suppose it was that imprudent comment which tipped  my secret accumulation of demerits for the week that Mistress had been adding up into the red penalty zone. (It made me wonder what's been going on over in Suzanne's domain this week, and whether Tammy has done anything of equal impertinence to justify a month in that infernal chastity device.... but I digress.)

In any event the consequences were swift.

"I've had enough of the surliness, Slave.... you deserve a punishment."

Mistress, still in her wet biking attire (did I mention she was riding in the rain.... or rather walking after the chain came off), closed the door to the Executive Suite, and told me to roll over and pull down my shorts. She groused a bit more as she searched for the riding crop in our closet that had accumulated a bit of dust over the last few weeks of my "good behavior".

"I hope the girls don't hear this Slave."

I suppose it was possible, since they wer just down the hall, watching some reality show on their computers, but I tried my best to stifle my own pathetic cries of distress  as she gave me about ten hard whacks with her crop, as my ass bounced off the bed with each blow.

Ouch.

Then she snapped this photo with her I-phone and emailed it to my account.

"I want to see this posted in the morning, Slave."


"Yes, Mistress....."

Afterwords, I redeemed myself with some worship to Mistress's damp and well exercised clean shaven folds.

At least then I did not have to  worry about "holding my tongue" for that task.

HNT / Mistress and the Fed Ex Man

Mistress has been recovering from a nasty cough these last few days. The clean, high mountain air seems to be helping, and the sunshine charged her batteries like nothing else.

Though it's not too humid here, the sun can be very intense. Slave does to huddle under the portal (the overhang that surrounds our house) with a good book.

Mistress on the other hand likes to go for it, soaking up the sun's rays for hours at a time. Fortunately, her swarthy complexion seems to handle it. I offer to apply sun screen, which offer is usually rejected. Amazingly she does not burn.

And because we have almost complete privacy, why shouldn't Mistress use this opportunity to eliminate those tan lines.

"My 'clean shaven folds' are all tan now Slave.... what do you think?"

This said as she hands me an iced tea she had generously offered to get her Slave, giving me a full view of her firm and bronzed body.

"Lovely, Mistress."

The only problem can be the ocassional arrival of the Fed Ex Man who pulls up the drive, loops around at the top, and then hands over his package.

If he is aware of what to look for, and he's been here more than a few times over the years, he's likely to get a very nice view of the lovely Mistress from the high seat of his delivery van.

As it turned out, when he arrived yesterday, I was inside making some lunch, while Mistress remained in naked repose out on her chair, as demonstrated above.

He did have a rather dazed expression on his face when he handed over the envelope sent from my office.

Maybe it was just the sun. Playing tricks on him.

HNT / A Busy Morning

Slave was enlisted to help one of the sullen teens edit her year end paper this morning.  Of course, this is my second and hopefully final run through on this particular project.  Maybe parents should not do this at all? But it's hard to say no, isn't it? 

So in lieu of smut, I am editing sentences and paragraphs it seems I have edited before, though my edits and spelling and grammar "fixes" seem to have been rejected. Arrrrgh.

But I hate to leave our devoted readers bereft of their Molly fix on a Thursday, so here is a particularly fetching shot from the archives!

And another for you stocking fans out there:

Enjoy.

HNT / More on Presidential Kissing

Mistress and Slave were back in a more salacious groove yesterday. Of course, there was ample time for some toasty morning sex, and I didn't even have to resort to my JFK accent to get any action. (Believe me, it's worked on occasion. )

And after work, there was no big rush to make dinner, so Slave requested a worship opportunity, made all the more convenient by the access provided by Mistress's peek-a-boo tights.  Mistress even indulged her Slave's request to duck her after my lips and tongue had given her a gratifying starter cum as she laid back across our bed.

When the dust finally settled, I took a few photos of her, and am mixing in some from a week or so ago.  I must say I relish those lovely curves and shapes that her body forms as she lies across our bed in the UCTMW Executive suite.  The possibilities seem endless.

Now back to some of the comments yesterday on JFK, his young intern, Mimi Alford,  and the absence of kissing in that "relationship".  Many of you commented that the absence if kissing would be a death knell for a come on, even from the "World's Most Powerful Leader". (Presuming that power is in direct proportion to the nuclear arsenal at your disposal, I suppose).

And I would certainly agree with that take: I can't imagine a sexual liaison that does not begin with a kiss.

As one of you commented, the absence of a kiss prior to sex is more in the nature of the relationship between a hooker and her "John".  But here, it was JFK who apparently avoided the kissing -- in this analogy was he the Prostitute, and was the intern is customer?  No that was not the power dynamic.

Mistress and I talked a little more about it last night as she added details to the story from the book as she read it on her kindle.

"So at this point Slave.... JFK asks her to give his buddy Dave Powers a blow job next to the White House pool, because he'd had a stressful day...."

"And does she do it...?"

 I'm thinking no, she rebels, draws a line. Not some 19 year old prep school girl from a "good family going down on her 45 year old lover's crony. (the guy with JFK in the hat).

"She does it, Slave...."

Uggh. I'm kind of disappointed in her.  You can see the fascination with JFK.... but his Irish drinking buddy?  Then it dawned on me....

"Maybe this was a primitive D/s relationship, Mistress.... with her getting off on being humiliated by her dominant lover.... forced not only to do the sex acts that he demanded from her.... but also to service a friend in his presence for his pleasure".

Love to hear what our submissive female readers react to this theory.

HNT / Mistress's Distracting Boots

Yesterday Mistress had plans to meet with a friend at the end of the day. A male friend, I might add, who - presumably in jest - had warned her not to wear her over the knee boots which he had described as "distracting".

Of course Mistress does not take "direction" well. I mean she is a Mistress isn't she?  And it was seasonably cold here yesterday in River City. We even had a wisp of snow in the AM - our first of the season. So what did she wear: those black over the knee boots that were the consensus recommendation of our readers in Tuesday.

We both ended up at home at around 6 pm, and I asked her how that meeting went.

"Well it was odd, Slave."

"How so, Mistress?"

"He did seem a little .... distracted. But he did seem to have a need to reach out and touch my boots."

"I'll bet he did."

We had thought about heading to the gym - it was too cold and gloomy for a bike ride. But we decided to bundle up and go for a walk instead. But first things first.

I still had that cage locked on tight -- since we had drived separately to accommodate Mistress's end of day meeting.

"How about a little worship, and then you can unlock me Mistress?"

"In a moment Slave."

I do think she likes to drag things out.

But soon she was lying back on the bed, those booted legs spread to allow me access. Naturally, her peek-a-boo tights were there to allow me easy access. (When I snapped that photo, I had to strategically place a pillow -- this is an R rated sex blog, after all.)

"Maybe your friend sensed that there was something on display not far above those boot tops, Mistress.... that could explain why he was "distracted".

"Oh Slave..... now why would he think that?"

On the Road HNT and a Preview of Cuming Attractions

No early post here at UCTMW this morning... instead we were up and out early, beginning our long mounful drive back to River City.

Of course, Mistress did get a little action this am. When I woke her at the appointed time, she asked if I wanted to have some early AM sex before we left.  I demurred (for fear I would just want to go back to sleep afterwords) but I did make sure Mistress got some wake-up worship.

Yesterday was a nice summation of our time here: leisurely time in bed in the morning; a bike ride up and down our neighborhood hills and valleys; a little time in the sun, and a nap and afternoon sex before heading out for an evening of food and music in a nearby restaurant/bar.

During the afternoon, we gave a call to Donna, our Senior Correspondent, who was celebrating a birthday yesterday. (The CEO likes to reach out to our world wide staff on such ocassions). ANd yes, Donna, Mistress was strutting around the patio naked while you previewed your adventures at La Domaine. Both of us are anxiously awaiting the next installment.

After 10 days or so of nude sunbathing, Mistress really has done away with just about all of those tan lines, as this HNT  (actually 100% NT) photo demonstrates:

I took the first shift driving once we left our adobe abode, and we stopped for a greasy breakfast at a little cafe in southern Colorado. Now Mistress is at the wheel, giving me time to get something up here to amuse the rest of you, using our mobile Wifi gizmo.

But while I was driving, Mistress was engaged in a lengthy text conversation with Francois, back in River City. (Did you think he had disapeared, dear readers?)

Francois and Mistress have been in increasing contact these last few days, as it became apparent that we were actually coming home. and this morning he was weaving an interesting scenario for Mistress involving another woman (with slightly larger breasts), remote controlled butterfly vibrators, and this humble Slave (apparently wearing his cock cage, at least for a while).

It's something to mark on the schedule for an upcoming weekend. Sort of a "house warming" in honor of Mistress's return from River City.

I won't go into all the details, but Francois, if you are out there.... please feel free to fill in the blanks.

A Word from UCTMW Human Resources

From: Mick Collins, Director of Human Resources

To: UCTMW Staff, World Wide.

RE: UCTMW Equal Opportunity Policy.

Our CEO has asked me to remind all of our staff members, from the lowly mail room attendant (sometimes me) to our various far flung correspondents that UCTMW remains an equal employment opportunity media empire, and aspires to the highest standards when it comes to creating a workplace free of unlawful (or even mildly unpleasant) discrimination based on the widely recognized protected classifications, and even a  few that we’ve made up, often without notice to the rest of you.

Here is our policy, in case you need to refresh yourselves after a long evening of “research”:

“UCTMW strives to create a workplace that is free from discrimination and harassment and treats all employees equally. We go so far as to give each of our employees the same compensation and benefit package no matter how lofty or insignificant their spot in the corporate pecking order may be.

We do not discriminate, nor will we tolerate discrimination, based upon race, gender, religion, national origin, age, disability, educational attainment, kink, sexual orientation, physical appearance, work ethic, accent, preference for snow boarding vs. alpine skiing, or white vs. red wine, eye color, garb (with the exception of madras shorts worn by males), fetish, or political affiliation (other than members of the Tea Party).

Our policy not only assures non-discrimination in hiring, promotion and compensation and the abuse of lavish expense accounts, but also protects our staff from harassment based upon any of the above listed classifications or characteristics.

There are two types of harassment we prohibit.

“Quid pro Quo” harassment would be when the CEO says, “if you do a particularly fine job of worshiping my clean shaven folds, there’s a good chance you I can find a replacement for you in the male room, and I will promote you to my personal assistant and traveling secretary”.

(Oops. I forgot, Mistress edited out that part of our policy when we last re-wrote the Employee Handbook. That type of harassment is no longer prohibited.)

We also prohibit “hostile environment” harassment. That’s the kind where conduct of a verbal or physical nature that is “unwelcome” makes an employee or customer uncomfortable, and is based on one of the characteristics listed above.

Of course, “unwelcome” is the key. When the CEO tells me I need to wear a cock cage if we aren’t going to be in close proximity during the day, it’s based on my gender. Only guys have cocks, right? But then, since I’ve agreed to this form of “mistreatment” in my contract, it’s hard to say that wearing that cock cage would be unwelcome. (Unless I had a really good lawyer, and the jury was all male, that is.)

What brings this reminder to the fore?

Well, yesterday we had some salty comments here at UCTMW about the national origin of an emerging member of our team here. A certain “Francois”.

Another staff member called him out as swaggering Euro-trash, based on a comment reported here yesterday that Most American men would not know how to handle our beautiful, smart and oh so sumptuous CEO.

Now I for one do not know whether Francois would consider this comment “unwelcome”. In fact, when Molly asked him whether he minded being portrayed on these pages, the response was something like.

“Sure…. Maybe I will come off like swaggering Euro-trash. Go for it!”

And it could be that his own characterization of American guys as cowering, flaccid and unconfident wimps who don’t know how to properly give American woman what they really want, deep down inside, is a stereotype too.

I suppose that is for Mistress and the rest of our readers to comment on, and is out of the limited expertise of this pampered house Slave.

Now, back to our regular programming.  Did you think I forgot about HNT?

HNT / Greatest Hits

Not much to report here at the World HQ. Mistress is on the east coast with our sullen teen. Slave is back here, wearing his cage to work and staying out of trouble .... not that I could get into much trouble with that cage locked tight.

The best I can do for you is a little trip down memory lane for those Mistress fans out there:

Here she is, surveying our little chink of heaven out West.

And there she is, primping before a day at work, sporting those teal undies.

I know she'd rather be sunbathing at 7000 feet, than in the sea level bustle out East.

And while we both love the summer, one thing that's nice about the cold weather months here are her sexy black tights.

Of course, I believe I've gotten her approval of these photos in the past, but if she dislikes any of them, I may have to be concerned about getting left in my cage longer than I'd like.  Which brings to mine this historic image, which no doubt could become a collector's item for some of the Collins clan:

HNT Bonanza

In my editorial planning here at UCTMW I had been preping ideas with my staff for this week's HNT. What to feature? which body parts? word robe? Over coffee with myself on Tuesday I mulled the options.

Then, as I was kneeling for worship Tuesday at the end of the work day, the contrast of Mistress's turqouise undies contrasting with her smooth swarthy flesh called out for my camera.

I figured that was a wrap for this week's HNT, and knew our readers would come away satisfied. Or at least the view would put the WC in the mood to satisfy himself- his primary skill set.

But then around noon yesterday I got a text from Mistress.

"Stopped by your girlfriend's store, Slave. Picked up something you will like."

Hmmm.

A little background. I've been candid on this page that in a prior life I was less than a perfect husband. Before I met Mistress in 1987, I was in a prior marriage. And it seemed I had significant fidelity issues. There was a woman I worked with back in the early 1980's and well..... If Mistress was my Mike Dukakis era  lover, then this girl, we'll call her J, was my Walter Mondale era lover.

That's water over the bridge. But  some years ago, J opened a very stylish  lingerie store in one of our more opulent local neighborhoods. It's where I always go to find something lovely for Mistress. You've seen many of those confections on these pages. And they always seem to please Mistress.

But maybe because of my history with the proprietress, Mistress has always been reluctant to go shopping there herself. It could be a sign of her growing security or confidence as a Domme that she felt comfortable stepping inside this nice little shop, trying on something, and taking it home to show her Slave.

Or maybe there was another explanation.

"I was having a really shitty work day, Slave. This seemed like a good way to get my mind off that...."

Whatever the reason, after our evening bike ride, Mistress came home and I helped her fasten up the back of her new acquisition. Here is the result. What do you think?

Past Our Bedtime / HNT

Mistress was spared having another “take daughter to work day” yesterday, which was also a break for me: no cage, and a chance to ride to and from work with her.

She even stopped by for lunch. But apparently I was not quick enough to take the hint.

When she arrived at my office, I was on a rant about something, can’t recall what now, and we talked on the subject, distracting me from what should have been the primary task at hand. As I reached for my jacket, ready to leave for lunch, I realized that something important had been neglected.

“Oh… would you like me to worship, Mistress….”

“I was wondering when you might ask, Slave….I’ve been pacing here waiting for you, a little on edge….”

Interesting. Maybe Mistress now gets a little pavlovian response when she enters my office, her cunt anticipating what should be coming up next. My distraction had been a subliminal source of frustration for her.

Love it.

I quickly acted to correct my error, shutting the door, sliding the chair into place and taking the proper position – on my knees – to lavish her with the soothing attentions of my tongue and lips.

A little work on my part took the “edge” off, and we were soon headed to lunch on our public square on what was a mild if blustery day, a little window of opportunity between thunderstorms.

At home after work, Mistress was worshipped again before we headed for a bike ride. Then Mistress stopped by her Mother’s house (just up the street) for a walk with her, as I hunkered down at home to fix a little sandwich and watch the President’s speech.

Mistress was back at about 8:30 or so, and we lingered downstairs in front of the TV, until I could take no more of the grousing from left and right about his plans to back our troops out of Afghanistan.

Not fast enough. Too fast. Accelerated timetable needed. No timetable. Argh. The Whipsawing was impressive. Maybe Rachel should run for President and solve all this for us, right? I wanted to scream, but then Howard Dean was already doing it for me.

We headed upstairs to the “Executive Suite”, hunkered down in bed, both with our lap tops out , Mistress responding to some emails – including a quite if exasperated one from Aisha – let’s hope she survived that tornado warning. We were teetering on the edge of “calling it a night” or “night cap” sex.

I won’t go into the details of what tipped us in the direction that makes my continued writing worthwhile here. Suffice it to say, the feeling was mutual.

“Slave… I know it’s a little late…. Go put in your device (the aneros)… you may need a little extra for after hours activity….”

True, that little sucker can be like a “booster” rocket, particularly when Slave is tuckered out. And being told what to do in that commanding tone adds a bit to the erotic stew.

As I slid back into bed, Mistress’s soft fingers made a beeline for my already thickening cock. We snuggled close, my hand diving between her legs, sliding through those moist clean shaven folds.

I was already getting close as her hand worked me with a slow, sensuous fervor.

“Would you like me to lick, Mistress?”

“Not now, Slave…. this is nice, don’t you think….”

The question soon became whether her fingers or mine would win the race of driving the other one over the edge first.

I was determined not to blink, or pull away…. And on this occasion, it was my fingers that prevailed, as Mistress bucked and moaned through a nice little starter cum.

“Would you like to fuck me now, Slave?”

“Uhhh, yeah… I thought you’d never ask, Mistress…”

HNT / Mistress Maintenance 101

Being an adequate Slave (or vanilla lover for that matter) is really being   a good  “service provider”.

There is competition out there (though I may be one of those odd ducks who enjoys the competition), and therefore one has to be constantly trying to improve the quality and variety of services provided, and anticipate the “customer’s” needs.

Of course, some days I do better than others. If I get lazy, careless or selfish, then Mistress suffers. And she’s actually pretty nice about that. She rarely exercises her contractual rights to extract a few welts from my ass, or deny me sexual privileges if, for example, I forget to offer to worship her when she comes home, or do not do the little chore she had asked me to undertake.

Yesterday, I believe I did an adequate job of anticipating Mistress’s needs, though there was clearly some  room for improvement.

I came upstairs, not too early or too late, to let her read the blog. My lips and tongue working over those delicious folds until she had that little “wake up” cum. She was even generous enough to use her own full and soft lips to coax my cock, protruding through that hard steel ring, to its full dimensions before she rode it to one of those nice stirring orgasms that are an inspiration to me. When she was finished, she allowed me to “turn the tables” and take my pleasure from her, which is always more challenging, but ultimately more rewarding when that ring is in place.

“Wow. That was a good one, Mistress….”

“I could tell, Slave.”

Mistress had arranged to stay home a little later to accommodate a visit by the Gas and Electric Man (no, not that type of visit), So after she locked the cage in place I was off to work solo.

But shortly before lunch, a meeting I had arranged fell through. That led me to call Mistress to see if her dance card was open. Luckily, she was free too.

“I’ll be over in about 15, Slave….”

Now, we could have met at a designated lunch spot. But Mistress has needs, and her Slave likes to fulfill them.

She strode in, we kissed, then chatted about her morning as I arranged the chair and blanket – her throne – and she sat sliding off her panties.

“Maybe M should get a view of our lunch activities, Slave….”

So from knee level I snapped a photo of her spread legs and the delicious morsel in between and texted it off to “Judge Miguel”, with the note “lunch time”. As I was having my pre-lunch “amuse bouche”, I heard the chime of his response. And after Mistress had her little appetizer cum, I read it to her.

“I’m jealous….”

So it goes, Your Honor. But you and Mistress do have that date coming up this morning. Hopefully that will provide you a little solace, while I get to war that cage again.

(I also took the photo above after lunch time worship, so her fans can see Mistress’s shoe selection of the day…. Maybe we need a separate shoe of the day  blog?)

At the end of the day, I arrived home a little earlier, and was catching up on your blogs, laying on our bed when Mistress walked in, still looking ravishing in a summery brown dress.

We debated whether to take a bike ride in the heat and humidity, and elected to pass and rest a bit before fixing dinner. But before our “rest time” was over, I made sure to offer to worship.

Now I may have been a little slow there. The proper thing to have done was to make that offer immediately when she walked into the room. SO what started off as a pretty good day on my self evaluation, probably turned into a B-.

But Mistress seemed pleased when my “work” was done. And it was only then that I dropped my shorts to see of she was inclined to unlock the cage.

“Oh dear…. I almost forgot Slave….”

But she readily reached for the key, and set me loose.

I suppose that cage is one way to for her to make sure that her primary service provider does his job to her satisfaction each day.

t

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HNT's and PDA's

Mick and Molly are slowly adjusting to her new work schedule. While it has cut into our morning recreational activities, it has made for more opportunities for activities in River City’s downtown, as we take advantage of our close working proximity.

Tuesday evening was a nice “date” night. After work, Molly picked me up in her Mom-mobile (the black station wagon) and we headed up to a (relatively) hip restaurant in a nearby 1860’s neighborhood, finally being reclaimed from decades of decline. We even ran into a twitter follower (no not for our “UnderContract” twitter site, we do vanilla twiting too), who searched us out after Molly posted a photo of her allegedly “hunkish” husband.

After dinner we headed to a nearby theatre to see a well reviewed drama. The theatre is located on a hillside with a grand view of our downtown. Since we were a bit early, and I was more than a bit horny, we found a secluded picnic table with an excellent view, and began to “make out” a bit. And while there was the occasional car and theatre patron passing by, Mistress used her hands to fondle my cock through my trousers (fortunately it was a cage-free day for me). We kissed, deep and long. My hand rode up the inside of Mistress’s naked thigh, locating the panel of her black undies. As we became more….interested…we almost aborted our theatre trip…. Almost.

Instead we waited until after theatre to finish the job, back in our cozy bed.

Yesterday Mistress had a work related dinner. So she had me wear the cage as a little extra insurance that I would not get into trouble if left to my own devices after work.

But she did have time to see me at lunch. She arrived at my office for a little worship first though. It was one of those rare days when Mistress wore pants. Black, form fitting pants that emphasize her shapely and alluring rump.

I pulled the chair to the door, and draped our handy blanket over it to protect the upholstery from her natural juices.

She pulled down her pants and lacy green thong (damn, should have gotten a picture of that).

I fell to my knees. My eyes fell on her delectable, clean shaven lips, as she spread her legs just wide enough to accommodate my face.

“You look sexy today, Mistress.”

“Oh, really? I thought you liked me in dresses better.”

“Some variety never hurts, Mistress.”

I began to probe her with my tongue, inhaling the intoxicating scent of her arousal.

“Did anyone flirt with you today, Mistress?”

I continued my assault, using fingers to pry apart those lovely, plump lips.

“Well … there was that man in the elevator. Handsome. He said he had never seen me in the building before. Wanted to know where I worked.”

“Hmmm.” I paused briefly in my accelerating attack on the little bud popping up through those denuded lips.

“Does that turn you on when handsome men flirt, Mistress?”

“A little, Slave.”

Then the conversation faded into the little stifled moans of pleasure, and the broken breathing that signals Mistress’s emerging climax. Soon she was thrusting her hips against my lips and tongue. It was a nice one. Such a shame that my cock was locked in its steel cage, the key back at home.

After Mistress regained her composure (as well as her pants and thong), we headed to lunch, picking up a salad and finding an open table on our public square. It was a lovely spring day, sunny, but without the heat and humidity sure to come.

When we finished our salads, I walked Mistress toward her office, but we paused at a very public corner. I kissed Mistress tentatively. Sort of a goodbye peck. There were hundreds of folks within site.

But Mistress would have none of that. She kissed me hard, deep, her compelling tongue invading her Slave’s mouth. And of course I reciprocated. This went on for a while, us standing at the busiest corner in River City, making out for our conservative little world to see. I was waiting for someone to yell “get a room.” I was acutely reminded that my cock was confined until Mistress saw fit to unlock it.

When we finally came up for air, Mistress and I headed back to our respective offices.

I knew it would be several hours before Mistress came home from her dinner. I hope she remembered where she left the key.