Mistress Addresses Some New Developments

On day two of our Empty Nest days, Mistress and her devoted Slave rested. 

After some leisurely wake up sex, there was a civic engagement in the morning. We saw lots of family, friends and a handful of local politicians. So of them are already thinking of ways they can “book us” for their amusement or support now that we’ve driven our children off. 

We were very non-commital.

Slave mowed the lawn, and did some other “outdoor slave” jobs. We went for a bike ride. Mistress did some laps at the local pool, while Slave read the Times.

Then we were back home. A nice afternoon nap, followed by… well, what did you expect.

“It’s almost like we’re on vacation, Mistress. But we are just at home.”

“True, Slave.”

We were even too lazy to go out to the movies, instead finding an obscure Woody Allen movie, Alice,  from about 1990 that somehow we had missed. It was during those “Molly and Mick secretly dating years”. And neither of our spouses were as deeply into Woody as we were / are. So there was the young, charmingly coy Mia Farrow. William Hurt. Bernadette Peters.  We sipped our wine, shared a little picnic, and relished in our new found independence.

And with Mistress’s legs splayed wide on the couch next to me, tie-dye dress hiked to her hips, skimpy semi-transparent black panties barely cloking her clean shaven folds and their intoxicating aroma, Slave could not help fingering her to another mid-evening cum as we watched the goofy but romantic plot line unfold.

Yesterday we did get an interesting question from a commenter from across the pond (I guess I am assuming that the Suffolk he’s referring to is in England, not Suffolk Co., NY ).

The question was whether Mistress’s extracurricular activities are limited to “phone sex”. 

In fact, our contract allows her free sexual range. It seemed only fair at the time it was drafted, since Slave had committed his own indiscretion. And then, even as we were writing it up, the notion of Mistress exercising her contractual rights in that way was discovered to be a turn on for both of us. 

 (There is a link to our contract to the right of this post).

That little fizz of arousal came before Slave even understood that there was a whole cult of cuckold out there, as exemplified by the goings on over at ALL Mine, and elsewhere.

Mistress suggested I write a little about why this notion seems to get her Slave going. And it’s elusive to articulate.

If submission is a turn on for me and others, I suppose it makes sense that surrendering the monopoly over one’s spouse is the ultimate act of submission. And therefore the ultimate submissive sexual accelerant.

Setting aside the submission kink, I do like to see Mistress happy and fulfilled. And horny. It seems to give her a little extra sexual glow when  another man has the hots for her.  Who can blame her?  That glow always seems to inure to my benefit, since she seems all the more eager to exploit her readily available “work-a-day” cock.

As it has turned out, Mistress has only previously exercised her rights with one other person. After a few encounters, she decided that he did not have what it took to make for a long term part of her world. But she's been open to possibilities, and has also had some tantalizing long distance encounters with our WC.

After we discussed the question that had been posed, and Mistress asked me to address it, she also decided to write a few paragraphs herself on recent developments here at UCTMW:

Molly’s POV

To take a page from our buddies at All Mine,  I determined that it’s time for me to have a few words. I know that we have created quite a mystery over here. Permit me to fill in a few blanks.

Yes, our two darling daughters are now gone and while we miss them, the quiet is needed. I have raised children for 19 year’s, Mick for a collective 34 (you heard right). I have always worshiped the ground he walks on, but I know how tired I am from the small amount of 19 years.

Our home is peaceful and we can be naked all day. This will help with our environmental efforts to save water, as we will have fewer clothes to clean. My mom does live one mile away, but always phones prior to arrival and she is busier than we are so not worried about the drop in.

Yes, WC is still part of the empire and we are very much friends. The relationship with WC continues, but in a nonsexual way. Why? Candidly, it’s been the collective decision of all involved. Be decent to the WC, he is important to us friends.

Onto Francois.

Gang, I am not going to predict anything here. He and I have connected and seem to find one another interesting.  Mick and I have had some false starts in the part-time Dom search, so none of us can anticipate where this is headed. Just know though that we are all open to whatever happens.  I am lucky to have a slave who wants me to be so happy.

Our goal at Under Contract (contrary to the corporate type rag we pretend to me) is to take life day by day and to be happy. I, for one, have tired of angst and worry. “The times they are a changing.”

Love

Molly

In Negotiations

This blog got started after Molly and Mick entered into a very detailed contract requiring my rather thorough and complete submission to Mistress’s will. We negotiated the terms after I prepared a draft using elements from other similar agreements found on the internet.

But we also included a renewal option that would allow me to cancel or ask for changes to the contract once a year, on a date in mid-July (our wedding anniversary).

I mentioned this approaching date to Mistress yesterday. Of course, I have no plans to cancel the contract. It’s been a very healthy development for our marriage, and some elements – including Mistress’s right to enjoy the attentions of others – have acted as quite an unanticipated accelerant for our sex lives, as our regular readers no doubt can tell.

And while the contract certainly allows Mistress to take some extreme liberties at my expense, she has been abundantly merciful. It seems I rarely am required to wear my cock cage these days, primarily because we drive to and from work together. Nor have I been leased to another Mistress.

But no contract is perfect. Surely it could use some enhancement. So when I mentioned the upcoming date, I asked Mistress if she wanted to make any changes for her benefit, since I have no requests for amendments on my own behalf.

And she asked for some assistance, from our Western Correspondent.

Mistress was sunbathing nude on our patio, reading a book. Slave was doing some actual work on my laptop, under the portal and in the shade.

Then her phone rang. It was M, checking in on her morning activities.

Here’s how I heard Mistress’s side of the conversation.

“So Slave reminds me that our contract is coming up for renewal. There is one day a year when he can get out, or ask for changes.”

“He says he doesn’t want out. Isn’t that right, Slave.”

I can speak when spoken to under these circumstance.

“Of course, Mistress.”.

“But I am thinking, maybe I should make some changes…what do you think?”

“Yes, I suppose I could use your advice. Maybe I should retain you as my special counsel.”

“Great….Slave forward the contract to me so I can pass it onto M….he’s going to look it over and see if any of the terms need to be ‘tightened up’.

‘Of course, you might want to tighten up the contract on me….right now I can have sex with anyone I want…isn’t that right, Slave?”

“Yes, Mistress…of course.”

“But I bet you’d like to limit that to only you, wouldn’t you, M?”

Mistress laughs. A very seductive laugh. She’s squirming a bit on her chair. This talk is making her as hot as it is me, I suspect.

“Well I guess that would have to be in a contract between you and me…. Without that, I don’t think I am ready to give up my freedom just yet.”.

No doubt this had M’s brain buzzing a bit.

I forwarded the contract to Mistress as required. I went back to my work, then we took a long bike ride.

That afternoon we were settled back on our patio again. Mistress was back in her au natural state. Getting her private parts all nice and brown to match the rest of her.

But her I-phone was in hand again.

“Ummm…Slave. M texted me. He must be busy at work, but he wants me to …masturbate….now.”

I smile. Clever M. He does have a way of pulling Mistress’s strings. And she was happy to comply with his command.

“Would you like me to get the power tool, Mistress?”

“Yes….that would be nice Slave.”

I found the device, ran the long extension cord out to Mistress, plugged it in for her and made sure it was in operating condition.

I considered offering to do the “dirty work” for her. But I figured M had demanded masturbation, and who was I to interfere.

“Do you mind if I watch, Mistress?”

“No Slave….I insist that you watch.”

I settled into a nearby chair. Attentive.

Mistress spread her legs a bit, lay her head back on the chaise, and applied the soft churning ball at the apex of her two well tanned and shapely legs.

“Mmmmm…..this machine is amazing.”

Her hips was beginning to squirm from side to side, her wrist working it just so to find the best angle of attack.

“Is this a little strange, Slave? Me masturbating just because he tells me to?”

“Not if it makes you happy, Mistress.”

It certainly seemed to being making her happy.

“Did he tell you to think of anything in particular, Mistress?”

“Yes….he told me to think about him pushing me over his desk and fucking me then and there ….from behind.”

The thought seemed to engage Mistress in just the right way…she came with a sudden moan, writhing against her device, the muscles in her forearm rippling a bit as she held on for dear life.

Her eyes opened, she smiled that well fucked smile I have come to know.

“Did you like the show, Slave.”

“It was very entertaining, Mistress.”

And, of course, Mistress texted back to M that her mission had been accomplished.

“

Why a Contract? The Backstory.

Yesterday was another day of lovely sex and open conversation, Mistress. It was nice to get off the semi-abstinence wagon and have some long, hard fucks with you. I particularly enjoyed last night, when you allowed me to take you from behind. You seemed to come very hard as I invoked the Uber E, and your latent desire that he take control of you in that way.

But I thought it would be nice to step back and generate for whatever readers there are out there in blogland the story about how we decided to sign a contract that involves my total surrender to your control.

Of course, we have always had great sex. Before we were married we had our special love nest, a studio in our cozy downtown equipped with only a few pieces of furniture, including a futon bed. You were so young then – 23, 24? I almost felt guilty taking advantage of you there, weekday afternoons, or an occasional Sunday morning when we told our spouses that we had work to do. (Bad, very Bad).

Frequently our games involved you tied to the futon, spread for me, as I licked and fucked you to our hearts’ content. At first you probably thought I was a bit strange, but seemed to relish those times. But there was no real talk of submission. Once the ropes were untied, we were back to a more conventional affair, with me at an age and level of boring maturity closer to father than contemporary. I always had trouble figuring out what you saw in me, but was flattered and delighted to have you at my side.

And there were some nice field trips where we went slightly beyond the edge of sex ordinaire. I can remember that trip to the B & B in Tennessee, a hike, you tied to a tree, me on my knees pleasuring you. Or walking the streets of D.C., your hands cuffed behind you under your raincoat, bottom still sore from a nice spanking with a wooden hairbrush.

Again, these were only little detours, not any committed power exchange involving a commitment to submit. And lets face it, you are not really the submissive type.

As years passed, kids were born and raised and your career blossomed, we spent less time on these types of activities. Great sex. Frequent and robust. But mostly vanilla.

We both acknowledge that things deteriorated a bit between us in the years when we spent too many working days away from one another. It was a loss of intimacy. Too much of the burden of child rearing on you. Me feeling dissed. Not much fun for either of us. We enjoyed our weekends together. But it was not what either one of us envisioned when we decided to marry in the heat of love and passion all those years ago, with one child in arms and another on the way. I should have begged you to stay but was too proud to beg.

So I fucked up. Did something that betrayed and hurt you. That afternoon when you discovered what was going on we were fortunate that the kids were away. And between your tears and anger and my shame and remorse, we held ourselves together with what brought us together in the first place: extraordinary sex. I can’t recall how many times we did it that night. But it seemed we barely slept. And at some point, in the middle of the night, as I was trying to convince you that I would do whatever it would take to keep you. And you were on top of me, riding my cock, using your fingers on my balls. And you informed me, as you rode me, between our grunts and gasps and moans, that if I would be calling you mistress from then on; and that I was now going to be your slave. (it sends shivers through me now to think about, Mistress). You had tapped into a dormant fantasy of my own, apparently.

And we both came, almost together, exhausted, but knowing we were onto something new that might be the right path after too many years of drifting apart. We had found something that has blossomed over the last 14 months, as I have ceded more and more power to you in this relationship. A burden for you, no doubt. But a blessing for me.

Will finish the rest of this “back story” in my next installment, Mistress.