Mistress and Slave had a rather laid back Super Sunday. Of course, there was your traditional wake - up sex, some afternoon worship and a nice nap before we headed across the Mason Dixon line to the home of acquaintances that Mistress has met through her work. This was one of those ex-urban communities that is pretty unfamiliar to Mistress and slave: A huge, treeless subdivision of McMansions on proportionately too small lots. Yeah, I know I am sounding like some urbanista snob. But it's true that we have been sheltered from this sort of lifestyle. Once inside we found the typical selection of Super Bowl foods - cheese, chili, fritos. Mistress found some tasty bourbon, and slave nursed some red wine. The crowd was a little different from who we might typically hang with on the annual ritual of commercial and cultural excess that is uniquely American. Slave is old enough to remember the first super bowl. We've come a long way from Len Dawson, the Kansas City QB, smoking a cigarette and drinking a Fresca at half time, while Al Hirt tooted some New Orleans tune at the 50 yd. line. Slave found himself out on the back deck, with a view of a meandering stream and a sanitary sewer pumping station. I took tips from a neighbor of our hosts on the best guns to use to snuff out my prairie dog problem at our SW hideaway. He described some special plastic tipped pellets on the market now that expand on impact and leave a fist size exit wound. "Make yourself a blind. Then you can just lay back there and pop off those varmints one right after another...." "you mean sitting in my lounge chair won't cut it?" I don;t think he got the joke, and actually made me feel sorry for my sordid little varmints. In any event, the game did not go quite the way I expected. Sorry, Donna. I hoped you put your vibrators to good use before the score was final. Because you had a heads up by half-time, when it became apparent that Clark Kent, rather than Superman showed up. Maybe the Panthers forgot to have a phone booth handy on the sidelines?
And Mike, our erstwhile Western Correspondent, congratulations on your team's upset victory. That defense sure is fearsome. While PFM got his 200th victory, he didn't have to contribute much to pull off the victory, did he? When the Donkeys handed off the ball at 3rd and 9 with only a 6 point lead and 6 or so minutes to go in the game, you could tell they had little faith in the Ol' Sheriff's arm and a lot more confidence in their defense. And their punter. As I understand the terms of your bet with Donna, she must now forego use of her vibrator collection for the rest of the week. And you now have license to dip back into your vat of lube for the week to come. I am sure you will put it all to good use. Donna, I feel your pain! And we look forward to a report on how you cope with this sad privation over the next few days. Somehow I think you will be the Mother of Invention.
We haven't heard much from Donna, our Senior Correspondent, lately. I have suspected she's been flirting with some other bloggers somewhere, Or maybe using her vaunted refugee blogger protection program to find shelter for some other bloggers forced by exposure to go on the lam. But then the other day, what shows up in my in box but a "tip" about a breaking story from the left coast that sounds like something Donna herself could get in trouble doing:
79 YEAR OLD WOMAN ELECTROCUTED AFTER
FALLING ASLEEP WITH ‘DILDO’ INSIDE HER.
CALIFORNIA – A 79-year-old
woman, Harlen Green, was found unresponsive in her Beverly Hills home after an
unfortunate incident with a “personal massager.”
According to reports, Green’s daughter called
911 after she was unable to get a hold of her mother. Police were able to
access the house where they found the elderly woman half dressed, with the
device still inside her. Green had electrocution
marks that ran up her stomach and down her arms. EMTs removed the bloody device
and turned it over to investigators.
After
recovering, Green told investigators that she likes to “give herself a little
massage now and then” to ease her loneliness. “I haven’t had a man friend in my
life for a really long time,” Green told police. “So I started to collect
personal massagers. I have a Smoothie V, Pocket Rocket, 2 in One, at least 10
different ones so I don’t get bored. But the Hulk, it really rocked my world,
and I guess I fell asleep. It gave me a real zap in the gap!”
Family
members say they were shocked and appalled, as Harlen Green is known for her
cookie baking for the neighborhood kids. Green’s son said he has confiscated
all of her “massagers” and will keep a better eye on his mother.
Donna mentioned that she found it compelling that Mrs. Green had names for her many vibrators.
Well Donna, not unlike Mrs. Green's distraught family members, I am "shocked and appalled" that it's been so long that we have heard from you. I am sure our readers want to learn more about what trouble you've been getting into in the hills of NC.
But thanks for checking in. And remember to disconnect the vibrators before you go to bed tonight!
Any idea of what I am dreaming of covering in chocolate, licking and sucking clean, then repeating over and over again until some "cream" comes out to join the party?
I could not help but note (with a reminder from the intrusively obsessive "people" at Facebook) that today is our Senior Correspondent's Birthday. While we've not heard so much recently on these pages, she seems as feisty as ever, apparently getting into all sorts of trouble down in the hills of the Carolinas. What other part of the world would put the word "Gamecocks" across the ample chests of their cheerleaders, as I observed on TV only last night.
As an example, Donna sent me some email correspondence that was intended for one person, but was mistakenly sent to our WC. The subject was some on-line shopping she was recently doing on The Stockroom website. The headline on the email was "Did you see that giant black penis?"
I suspect that got the WC's attention, since he is fully committed in his belief that no one has a "gianter" penis that his notorious special occasion cock.
Donna, Molly and Mick send hopes that for your birthday you get the giantist black penis of them all!
Meanwhile, Mistress and Slave have been enjoying a rather laid back weekend here at the UCTMW World HQ. It's not like chilling last weekend at our SW hideaway, but it has also been nice to get into a gentler domestic rhythm now that summer is behind us.
Last night I had the pleasure of enjoying my alma mater beat up on a traditional rival on TV, while sipping a glass of wine and massaging and sucking on Mistress's lovely feet and toes.
It's a shame there's not a section set aside for toe sucking at the stadium. I mean even Jesus was into foot washing, wasn't he?
Imagine Mick's surprise when this dispatch from our Senior Correspondent slid under my electronic transom yesterday afternoon! Sounds like she's trying to get back on the payroll too!
Thank You, Donna.
Bill is an Inspection
Dom. He likes for me to shower first thing in the morning and present to him
with teeth brushed, body scrubbed, and the only hair he wants on my body is on
my head, and that should be freshly shampooed and blown dry.
That’s really not asking
too much, except for that shaved everywhere situation. I sometimes run into
stubble trouble. Bill really doesn’t want to feel a five o’clock shadow when he
runs his hands over my pussy, so I was looking for a solution when I ran across
an article that suggested using a combination of shaving cream and baby oil
along with a Venus razor.
I could do that!
I picked up my supplies
at the local grocery store. They had the razor and the suggested brand of
shaving cream, but the only baby oil they had was baby oil gel. Okay, close
enough.
The next morning, excited
to surprise Bill with the smoothest pussy ever, I headed for the shower while
Bill slept in. Nice hot water, good shampoo, a washing up and then the shaving
process began. The razor and shaving cream worked well, right up to the point I
added the gel on top. The gel made the razor blade all gooey and wouldn’t come
off. I tried using the wash cloth to wipe it off and I tried blasting it with
hot water from the shower head, but that goo was there to stay. Well, crap! I
closed the lid on the baby gel, but that puppy was slick and started to slip
through my hands. I must have grabbed at it a bit too hard because the gel came
shooting up out of that thing landing on the floor of the shower. Oops.
What could I do? The only
other razor in the shower was Bill’s, so I grabbed it and began again, using
just the shaving cream and Bill’s razor. Things seemed to go well.
This may be the time to
remind you that I am a wheelchair person, so I use a shower chair but Bill
stands in the shower. That information is about to become relevant.
I finished getting ready
and headed into the bedroom for presentation. Bill barely picked his head up
off the pillow and said he had a headache, that I should go have my coffee and
let him sleep a little longer. So I did.
In a little while I heard
the water in the shower start up and I started wheeling for the bathroom as
fast as I could. I hadn’t had the chance yet to tell Bill the shower floor
might be a little slick. Just as I turned the corner at the end of the hallway,
I heard a whack and knew that Bill had lost his balance and crashed into the
side of the shower. Whoops!
I opened the bathroom
door, and yelling over the running water I shouted, “Honey, are you okay? I was
going to tell you about the shower being a little slick from some baby gel I
used, but time got away from me.” He stuck his head out of the shower and I saw
a little rivulet of blood running down his cheek. “And did you also plan, but
fail, to tell me you neglected to change out my razor blade after you used it
to shave your pussy and legs?” he asked in a deep monotone. Gulp.
I waited until he stepped
out and began toweling, and then tried to take his mind off the subject of the
razor by asking if he felt better after his shower. He responded that once he
realized he needed to grip with his toes in order to stay upright in the
shower, and then managed to stop the bleeding caused by the dull razor, it went
quite well, thank you. I knew that look and that tone of voice. Crap!
My butt still has a rosy
glow. In fact, if Rudolph isn’t available on Christmas Eve, Bill may offer me
to fly red-butt first, leading Santa’s sleigh.
Here in River City, Slave spent a good chunk of the day in his hard steel cock cage, after our wake-up sex, during which the heft of my cock was re-enforced with the hard steel ring gripping me, quite literally, by the balls. While Mistress and I were off in different directions for most of the day, she spent a fair amount of time teasing me about my "locked down" status via text message and phone call through the day.
Youch.
It wasn't until about 8:30 pm, after Slave suffered through a 4th Quarter collapse by his alma mater in an inconsequential bowl game, and Mistress returned from the gym, that she found the time to retrieve the key.
I'm not sure how guys like Tammy, who are caged up for days on end handle it. Fortunately, there was a carnal reward at the end of this particularly discomforting rainbow. But rather than focus on that, let's hear from our Senior Correspondent on how their week has been going:
What
a great day!
It isn't even noon yet and it has already been a good one.
I was reading the blogs I enjoy every morning when I came across this picture,
and it really turned me on!
I love tribal tattoos, and whether it was that, or the way the woman is being
held down (I do so love that, too), I found it quite stirring.
And my sweet Bill was the grateful recipient of my horniness being all stirred
up. I went back to our bedroom, flipped back the sheets and gave him a very
nice blowjob, if I do say so myself.
The characters In a book I was reading last night were really into BJs. Some of
their techniques seemed interesting, so I decided to work them into my BJ
repertoire. This morning seemed a good time to give a few of them a try.
Adding some twisting of the hand on the upstroke, vigorous nibbling and humming
while switching back and forth between the frenulum and balls, then focusing on
head-sucking and swallowing with a distinctive rhythm and then pulling back
just enough to stick the tip of my tongue into his slit, and my man was moaning
in no time. He really, really seemed to enjoy it!
He enjoyed it so much that he gave me two spankings as we finished up. The
first was bare handed, and it left my buns warm and rosy. I thought we were
done, but I should know by now not to assume anything with Bill, and as we
stood by the dressers talking about our plans for the day, he reached into a
drawer and pulled out a crop. My hands were placed so that I was balanced
against the wall with my butt sticking out, and a good cropping ensued. So
nice.
You may be thinking that I am about to stop, but no!
We drove into a small town over a mountain or two to check out a gym that has
recently started up. Lo and behold, this place is neat. It is open 24/7, with
camera surveillance, lights and music always on. Each member is given
instruction on the equipment, a key to the gym, and you can work out whenever
it suits your schedule. Any piece of equipment you might want is there and the
price is less that half of what Bill paid for a gym membership to a chain gym
twelve years ago. No kidding. This looks perfect for Bill.
And then...the owner has also just opened a martial arts center nearby. I have
a green belt in Taekwondo that I earned many years ago in my wheelchair, and I
have been looking for something that would help me retain my balance and
strength while up on my crutches. The new martial arts center will be offering
Tai Chi and the Master is willing to work with the crutches. Woo-hoo!
But wait, there's more! And no, I am not selling Ginsu knives.
We decided to have breakfast at a bagel place we had heard about from a couple
of people. We had been told this little place had New York bagels. Right.
Anyone who has had real New York bagels knows that they are extraordinary, a
culinary mystery and masterpiece. When toasted and plastered with cream
cheese...WOW! Sadly, we have never found that same level of texture or flavor outside
of NY.
We pulled into the lot of this little hole in the wall bagel place, and
had to hunt for a parking spot. As soon as we opened the door, BAM! the aroma
was right. Coffee wafted on the air currents and toasted goodness assaulted our
noses. The cases were stuffed with all kinds of luscious looking bagels and
bialys and the refrigerated glass case had big bowls of different types of
cream cheese. Could it be? Could it possibly be? YES!!!
I make quite a bit of noise while enjoying sex and Bill had a hard time not
laughing this morning, since I was making some of those same noises while
eating my luscious bagel.
So I ate two wonderful things before noon. Not a bad start to the day, guys!
It's Christmas morning here at the UCTMW World HQ. The tree is lit and the only creatures stirring are the cats, stalking a mouse in the basement, and old (hardly a Saint) Mick preparing his daily post.
KTAO, Our favorite Mountain West radio station is on, streaming what we have become used to as our Christmas soundtrack. And though it just doesn't seem like Christmas here in River City, with mild temperatures and not a snowflake in sight, we did enjoy Christmas Eve at my daughter's home, her two cute boys rampaging about, and both sides of her family gathered around a huge table. The torch has passed to a new generation for the Christmas Eve gathering, and that's a milestone to celebrate.
By the way, there was plenty of sexual action here at the World HQ too on Christmas Eve. There hot wake-up sex before a bracing bike ride. Then, well, Mistress seemed to get a little randy while I took my daughters to the Pussycats game here in River City. Her phone sex session with the WC only partially satisfied her appetite. Because after the family dinner, and a walk in our charming old neighborhood to enjoy the lights and stillness, she got out those long black leather gloves to taunt and tease "her" cock. And who was I to complain.....
But the special Christmas treat today is this remarkable collaboration by our Senior and Western Correspondents on how to give and accept a nice Holiday spanking.
Enjoy, and Merry Christmas to all!
The WC:
Spanking is something that turns on almost all submissives
I use spanking as a broad term to encompass spanking,
paddling, strapping, caning, etc.
There are two types of spanking
Fun hot spanking used as sex play
And even hotter
Real or disciplinary spankings
I like play spankings
But I love to mete out real discipline!
It makes my cock rock hard every time
There was a kinkstress named Dorothy Spencer back in the 30's
She wrote a little book called the "Spencer Spanking
Plan"
In that book she advocated spanking to solve marital
arguments
But the little minx had a twist
She said the wives could only be spanked by their husbands bare
hand
But
She said the husbands should be spanked very hard with a hard
wooden paddle
Little kinky Domme obviously!
The famous Spencer Spanking Paddle is named after her
It is a hard wood spanking paddle with
holes drilled in it to reduce wind residence
In her book she said you should never give in to any pleas for
mercy
But, rather spank till the husband was truly contrite
Reminds me of Molly Collins
Whining and wheedling during switch day
"Oh but slave it hurts so terribly" Please
stop:)
But then when Mick fucks up
It is the shoehorn or riding crop till he grabs the sheets
But
I know Mick loves it
Molly you should become more strict!
Nevertheless, I think it is very hot when a spouse can truly
discipline the other spouse
The hottest sex B and I have is after a real spanking
Donna:
I have to say that I am not a huge fan of Spencer for those of us who are
kinky. For vanillas, it's the bee's knees, and I do appreciate that
there are some rules, like the one that says to never spank in anger. And I
like the philosophy that once the punishment is over, it's over and the issue
that resulted in the punishment won't be brought up again. However, I much
prefer what to me is the sexier style of spanking that is part of the BDSM
community.
There is the silent build-up that makes my stomach tingle and makes my pussy
hot when I glance toward Bill and he has a finger, or two, or five raised and
gives me a nod, letting me know that I have erred and the spanks are adding up.
I know that the number of fingers I see is only a minimum, not the maximum, and
not knowing for sure what the total will be adds edge, tension and a
spontaneity that brings thought of both excitement and oh, crap! When Bill
senses that I am needing more spanks, he continues, judging by my response what
is right for that moment. It's a bit like that economics principle of what the
market can bear.
The word bear, brings me to bare. Sometimes we're both naked for my spanking
and sometimes he just pulls down my jeans or pulls up my nightie. A favorite of
mine is when I am naked over his lap and he still has his clothes on. As he
pushes down on my back, I can feel his hard-on pushing against me through
the fabric of his pants and the pain/pleasure waves begin. After the
spanking starts, a rhythm develops between swats and sweet rubbing and back to
swats. The more my butt stings the harder Bill's erection becomes, and
eventually my cries are two-fold: for him to stop and for him to take me.
Bill thinks I respond to each of the tools of spanking, the hand, flogger, cane
or paddle just a bit differently, but says they all make me really horny!
After the session is over, there is always, always aftercare. That loving,
rubbing, checking in with me that makes me feel so treasured. I suppose I would
describe the aftercare as that same feeling as when I am overwhelmed in a crowd
and I feel Bill put his arm around me and I instantly know I am safe and
everything is going to be okay. It is a gift, an act of love.
The WC:
Regardless of the type of spanking I like the over the knee
position the best
My hand for play spanking and a hairbrush for discipline
I put my right leg over her legs to make sure she cant wiggle
away
I say "hand please" and make her give me her right
hand which I hold in my left hand on the small of her back
This gives you great control of her
Before I demand the hand, I like to pull her bottom open to
inspect her
Pry her labia open and jam a finger in her...embarrass her that
she is wet...
Sometimes I put a butt plug up her bottom ....HOT! "Naughty
girls get their bottoms stuffed and it makes their cunts drip, doesn't
it?"
Yes sir...
I make her answer every question I ask... also HOT!
If the spanking is a disciplinary one a stern lecture is
also called for
"How many times have I told you not to do that young
lady?" punctuated by a hard swat from the hairbrush
"I'm going to blister your bare bottom young lady!"
"Oh you are sorry now? "Not as sorry as you're
going to be before I'm done with you!"
"I'm going to lay into your bottom till its bright red
young lady!"
OMG that gets my cock rock hard HOT HOT HOT!!!!
After I'm done it's easy to slip her off your lap on her knees
and have her thank me and worship and suck my cock till I cum down her throat
Thanks, guys. You've both earned your Christmas Bonus. But what was particularly special was the photo of him in his "workshop" that the WC sent us to go with this post:
Slave finished up a rather time consuming project for work yesterday, giving me a much cleaner plate as we approach the time of year when the office clears out, the phone rings much less than normal, and the work related emails slow to a crawl. In past years, we would already be heading out to our Mountain Hideaway, kids in tow, for skiing and relaxing in that place we love for its natural beauty and distinctive culture.
In fact this is the first time in 13 years we have spent the holidays here in River City. Our sullen teen, who used to whine about missing her friends at the holidays, now says she's "bored" here. Ah well.
One thing that made us leave here at Christmas time for so many years was the mind numbing and angst inducing requirement that we deal with our extended family in long drawn-out carbo loading rituals. Too much drama and backbiting!
But oddly, after 13 years of making new friends out in the high dessert, we have discovered its a bit of a relief to avoid what had become compulsory group meals and outings with a motley crew of a little too high maintenance 2nd homers from places like Houston and Tulsa.
Suddenly I'm looking forward to a Christmas Eve at my daughter's place, with my two cute grandsons running wild, chomping at the bit for Santa's arrival, rather than making green chili stew for 15 acquired ski buds, and worrying whether some ditzy college professor from Texas will guzzle all of my Jameson before I get a pour.
Last night closed the deal on the "wish we were there or here" debate for Holidays 2011. The same Jamison guzzling Texas ditz texted Mistress with the "big news" that a certain former Secretary of Defense who should be in the Hague on trial for war crimes had just arrived at our favorite joint to have a few drinks and listen to music. Talk about the grinch who stole Christmas!
That made it official: we're glad to be home for the holidays!!
Last night, after we lit the candles, the sullen teen even made us latkas to go with some flank steak I grilled in the a little too warm for the holidiays weather here in River City. Yum!
We'll head out West - just the two of us- in mid-January, when the crowds or off the mountain and I can bogart that bottle of Jamison to my heart's content.
Ooops.... I almost forgot. This is a sex blog! Not a whiners forum. Fortunately, our Senior Correspondent has something to steam up your day:
Tuesday was our 33rd
wedding anniversary and we had said we would forgo gifts this year. We had
decided we would chalk up the remodeling as our anniversary gift, not only for
this year, but for many years to come.
On Tuesday morning, I headed
out to the kitchen to plug in my old trusty percolator and there on the counter
was an envelope with my name on it, and beside it sat a small jewelry box. I
took the box in my hands, popped the lid back, and there sat a beautiful ring,
white gold with amethyst stones in a diamond pattern. Beautiful. I slid it onto
my ring finger and found that it fit like a dream. I opened the card, and while
Bill usually gives me funny cards, this one had a wonderful romantic lyric. Aw!
So sweet.
And then it dawned on me
that I didn't have anything for Bill! That bugger. We said we weren't going to
do this and now he had given me this beautiful gift and I didn't have anything
for him. But wait, as a red-blooded, hot and sexy male, I could think of
something Bill always appreciated receiving.
Deciding to make this
both decadent and luxurious, I headed down the hallway, pausing at the guest
bath to heat up a thick, soft washcloth under very warm water, then headed into
the bedroom. I slipped into the bed, pulling the covers back to expose my naked
He-Man. Just as he started to make grouchy noises and turn onto his side, I
began slowly rubbing his groin with the very warm, soft cloth. On some deep
level, his body remembered what follows a warm massage like that, and he
returned to his back and gave a little hum as I continued on.
As you can well imagine,
what followed was a great deal of cock licking and sucking, a fair amount of
using my tongue to bring balls further into my mouth, one, then the other, to
be sure they each received the attention they deserved, and all the above was
accompanied by some pressure on that very sensitive spot just behind the ball
sack. Thoughts of the WC's brother's thumb action came to mind and with a few
naughty thoughts whispered into the long, hard human microphone I held in my
hand, may I say that Bill launched very, very well.
Not one to stop until I,
too, have been sated, he pulled me onto his chest and as he became revitalized,
we continued together. After a rest, the Hitachi came into action followed by a
shared warm shower with much kissing and laughter throughout.
What I offered may not
have been wrapped with a bow, but Bill was smiling about his anniversary
wake-up for quite some time.
Earlier today I was
thinking that since we don't have little kids around eager to get us out of bed
at the crack of dawn to see what Santa brought, and even though I do have other
gifts for Bill, maybe I should plan on an encore for Christmas morning. I don't
think he'd say no. You?
Coming Up Tomorrow: Whatever happened to that Francois guy? Here's a hint.
Molly and Mick had a tranquil day here in River City. After our wake-up sex there was a trip to the gym and other weekend errands to perform. (They included me listening to my mother recite the same litany of gripes about her condo and other family members that help facilitate transcendental meditation for me ... as in letting my mind wander to a better place while murmuring "oh really" over and over again).
After some work at home we took our daughter to see a new movie, Young Adult, amusing enough with Charlize Thereon playing a "Former Prom Queen from Hell" seeking to reclaim her long lost boyfriend 20 years later. It included close ups of the seemingly painful process Mistress goes through when getting her "feet done" every few weeks. Thank God I was born a man! Then again, maybe I need to learn to do that process myself to become a more complete servant to Mistress's needs, just as Tammy does over at All Mine.
We did share emails with our local "fan", R who Mistress invited over for a drink sometime when our mutual schedules clear. If you scroll back to yesterday's blog comments you will see he left one as "DC". How weird is it to have a reader who lives just a short stroll away!
But today's blog comes to you courtesy of Donna. AS she notes, the WC has been contributing more of late, and his "how to" blogs have enjoyed amazing popularity among our "vast" audience. AS you can see from the list to the right, his tutorial on "ass fucking" has not reached #1 in the charts, surpassing even our Contract. No doubt he's thinking about becoming a free agent now, and I'll be hearing from his Agent, some fast talking guy who no doubt also represents his latest sports hero, Tim "God made me do it" Tebow. So who can blame Donna for trying to emulate the WC's inimitable style.
Yes! Yes! Yes! Life is
good!
The workmen have left
with their toolboxes in hand and their low rider jeans, well, riding low. The
sawdust has settled, the furniture is in place, and the dishes and pots and
pans are in their new cupboards.
And now, drum roll
please, Bill and I can get back to having BDSM passion, fun and sex on a
spontaneous basis! Woo-hoo!
The other big excitement
for me is that our wedding anniversary is next week. Bill and I were married 33
years ago in the living room of a small house with immediate family in
attendance. I will always remember the look of horror on his mother's face that
her son was actually going through with this. Although, should I happen to
forget, I have my wedding photos where she has two distinct looks, one is abject
horror and the other is similar to that of an airline passenger frantically
scrambling through the magazines and emergency brochures, desperate to find a
barf bag before it's too late. It was too late, and the photos have become a
source of great laughter for our kids.
And now it is time for my
focus to return to the sex blog. It dawned on me recently that the WC is fast
gaining on my word count for the year, and I can't allow that. If there is to
be a bonus this year, it will be mine! I know his posts are read more
often than any others except for that one of Mick's, so I need to get on the
stick here. After examining the WC's columns and comments, the best I can
figure out is that he leaves off the spell-check on his computer while writing
and deliberately omits punctuation. He also uses words like ass, cunt and
diaper position over and over, and his columns are very short and
instructional.
Okay, I'm ready now, here
we go.
Instructuns for a hot
spancking:
For optimmum swenging
room put the femail over ur lap or over a pilow at the egde of the bed
Let her feet dagnle off
to the floor but with her cunt positoned so u can esily reach it
rub her ass and put a
fingre in her cunt and rub aorund until she moans
As soon as she relxases,
give a solid sweeng of your open hand to her ass
repate eght or ten tmes
and then chek her cunt agen
if she is wet, use your
fingres to breng her to the egde of cumming - than stop
repeete the spaking of
her ass and tell her she cant cum til u say so
when she is screemin that
she has to cum or she will die, giv her one more swat
than tell her to cum
repete until u have a hot
hand and she has a red hot ass...
No, no, no! I give
up! I just can't write like the WC. *head hanging low*
For now, I'm going to go
sit in my quiet, workman free kitchen, have a cup of coffee and ponder all
this.
Donna
AS Donna has so ably demonstrated, it's not quite as easy to rip off the WC's unique writing style as one would think. Maybe I should actually listen to that fast talking agent when he calls. I don't want to get outbid by Sin, Aisha, or Riff Dog or we'll never ever make that 100 Top Sex Bloggers List!
Molly and Mick had a relatively laid back day yesterday. After work, there was dinner at a trendy downtown "artisan pizza" joint, then up the hill to our local cinema to see "The Descendants", the new Clooney movie directed by the guy who did "Sideways". No sex at all, btw, but a compelling movie worth seeing this holiday season.
Over dinner, Mistress described the flurry of texts and other communications she'd gotten from Francois, the WC and E during the course of the day --- that sort of attention always puts a little spring in her step and a glow in her cheek. And who can blame her?
Now, I'm turning this morning's post over to Donna, who has an update from her cabin about those ongoing home improvements:
One of the UCTMW readers
recently asked about our home remodeling, wondering why I hadn't mentioned
it in a while.
Well, here is the answer,
home remodeling is more about adaptation and survival skills than sexy
thoughts. However, just because I love you, I have developed a scoring system
for the men who have been in our home over the past month and a half. As an
aside, please know that no one has approached me and I know full well that I
might not be a high scorer on their score sheets, but it's my blog post so I
can do whatever Mick allows! Hahaha
The Rating Index:
5=All Star! Head for the bed and break out the whips and chains.
4=Not Bad at All, How much experience do you have with BDSM?
3=Well, I don't think so. Have you ever heard of BDSM?
2=Um, no thank you. And by the way, BDSM is not Bologna, Donuts, Sausage and
Meatballs.
1=No way. Ever. Never.
So, shall we begin with
the destruction team, ripping out the entire kitchen.
On the Rating Index,
these two guys are a zero. Cleanliness of body and a set of teeth in the
mouth are a basic requirement for me. Dentures are fine, as long as they fit
well enough not to clack or spray spit when speaking, but I enjoy a little
nibbling, rather than gumming, on the nipples and further south, too. These men
were, shall we say, unfamiliar with the concepts of spending quality time with
bathing, deodorant, or a dental hygienist. To top that off, I can't believe
they could reach their age without learning about nose hair clippers. Really.
There should not be nostril hairs hanging down and waving in the breeze as one
talks.
You know, like many
things, a remodel begins so simply and then one thing leads to another. The
contractor found electrical problems that led to me developing enough of a
relationship with the electrician that he feels comfortable coming in with a
little knock at the door in the mornings and pouring himself a cup of coffee
and getting some cream from the fridge. Nice guy, good sense of humor,
and reasonably clean. He has some rough edges on a few political thoughts left
over from growing up amidst Bible thumpers, but nothing that couldn't be
handled with a Rachel Maddow intervention. I would give Mr. Electrician a
three.
The plumber hasn't been
here quite as often, but please, tell me this, is it in the code of ethics of
The Plumbers of the World, that they are required to wear pants that droop?
Talk about your crack problem in America! Overall, a nice guy, grey haired and
a tad stout, he gets extra credit points for getting the toilets back in
operation, which beings him up to a three and a half.
The contractor, what can
I say? I suspect he is planning to hang a stocking on our mantle this year, and
really, that doesn't sound like such a bad idea. Very fit, liberal,
formerly the sound man for a couple of big name Rock Bands, he has a wicked
sense of humor and is making our house look great. While we were out yesterday,
he switched the direction the refrigerator opens, which means he had to take
everything out of the door of the fridge...which is where I keep my glass dildo
chilling. When we returned home he commented that he wasn't sure he got everything
back in exactly the same location, and that we have some interesting
condiments-and gave Bill the eyebrow waggle. lol The man is a four.
What, you think I am too
picky? Well, that may be the case, but in order to rank a five, these men would
need to measure up to Bill, and they just don't. Bill has a full beard,
going grey and white, as is his remaining hair. His eyes are a beautiful hazel
with a brown streak running through one eye, and they twinkle when he is
pleased or can be as sharp as a lightening bolt when he is pissed off. When he
laughs, everyone around laughs too; whether they heard the joke or not they
just can't help themselves. He is intelligent, keeps up with world events and
is willing to stick his neck out to stand up for what's right. And to top it
off, he is one sexy Dom!
Just yesterday, when the
sound of hammers and drills was beginning to make my eyes roll back in my head,
he reached out and pinched, and I mean pinched my nipples. In the pain there
was a grounding that I really needed. And this morning, when I started to
over-do in trying to accomplish things, he pointed to the couch and said in his
deep Dom voice, "Your butt. Planted there. Now!" And so I did.
My Bill is the only five
in the whole bunch.
Together we will survive
the remodel. We will have a kitchen again and peace in the cabin will be
restored so we can go naked more often and get back to our BDSM. The ropes, the
toys, the floggers and crop are all waiting in the wings!
Hugs to all.
Senior Correspondent,
Donna
Of course this begs the question, Donna: what do you do with the chilled dildo?
Once inside we found the typical selection of Super Bowl foods - cheese, chili, fritos. Mistress found some tasty bourbon, and slave nursed some red wine. The crowd was a little different from who we might typically hang with on the annual ritual of commercial and cultural excess that is uniquely American. 
