Tough Night for the Pretty Boy

I suspect our Western Correspondent was enjoying the thrill of victory last night, basking in the reflected glow of his Donkeys and their aging QB, who are heading for one more trip to the Super Bowl. The wily old veteran may have lost a step and a few dozen yards on his "long ball", but he seemed to have enough in the tank yesterday to eek out a victory.



But for every victor, there is someone coming to grips with ignominious defeat, isn't there?

 And paying the price for it with his erstwhile supporters.

And so let's all show just a little sympathy for the guy who had to go home last night and explain to his super model wife Giselle what exactly went wrong. I'm betting it wasn't pretty. At least he has until spring drills to let those welts heal.

Dodged the Snow Bullet

Mistress and slave hunkered down here this weekend, heeding all the alarmist weather reports. Unlike the goof balls who seem oblivious to weather reports, we did not decide to take a ride down I-75 into Kentucky, where certain motorists purportedly got stuck in the snow for 24 hours.

I'm sorry, but what were you so desperate to see in Tennessee or Georgia that you decided to brave a blizzard to get there faster?

As it turned out, "snowzilla" was a bust in these parts. We got only an inch or two on Friday night, then the sun actually came out in the afternoon.

But that didn't really change our game plan. There was warmth sharing wake-up sex in the UCTMW executive suite yesterday morning.  We then went off on some solo missions - spending time with our respective Mothers - before we reassembled at around 2:30 pm - back in bed.

Mistress had a big shopping bag she brought home from her lunch with the dowager domme.

When I inquired as to its contents, she rolled her eyes.

"My mother's always off-loading stuff on me, slave".

The dowager domme is quite a shopper and collector, so you never know what might be involved when she makes more room in her closet for even more stuff.

"Kinky shoes, Mistress?  Or a designer strap-on harness?"

"No slave.  just a couple of cashmere sweaters."

I tried to hide my disappointment.

We then settled under the covers, turned on the heating blanket and read for a while before drifting off to a late afternoon nap.

And afterwards, well being suitably rested both Mistress and slave were ready for our "two-a-day" session.

"Why not put in your device, slave?"  (the aneros).

"Why not, indeed, Mistress....?"

Rest assured I made sure Mistress had a couple of cums with my highly skilled tongue before I took advantage of my opportunity for the second round of love making of our day.

Today we may not have time for that "two-a-day". One of my older daughters will be over to watch the pussycat-less NFL playoffs. And while I don't really have a dog in this hunt, watching what will surely be the last of the Manning v. Brady match-ups should be entertaining.

I will be rooting for our Western Correspondent's Donkeys. It's the sort of match-up where we will all miss the banter with Suzanne, our long lost blog-competitor at "All Mine".  Who can forget our speculation that, at heart, handsome Tom is actually a submissive to his super model Mistress, with some cute panties under that manly Patriots' costume.

The nightcap will feature a former Pussycats' QB, a guy who's career ended here prematurely, in my opinion. Gotta root for Carson Palmer, even if he may be a little inexperienced in the play-offs. I assume our fellow blogger Terri over at "A Married Sissy" will be pulling for the Cardinals.

Let's hope that wedding your attending will be over before the big game!

Domme Wife / Sub Hub Get the Showtime Treatment

Mistress and slave had the sort of weekend that comes up this time of year when your local NFL team has been ignominiously eliminated from the play-offs. In other words, it was too cold outside to do anything productive, and there was little to focus our attention on other than sharing mutual warmth under the covers of our bed.

Well, that, and watch otherwise inconsequential football games.

Of course, we did do some boringly responsible things: visiting aging mothers, hanging with my grandkids. etc. But we had polished those items off the "to do" list on Saturday, leaving Sunday to our own pursuits.  Than involved sleeping in and making sure Mistress got to spend some time with her favorite power tool before she emerged to go to her spinning session.

At some point the Dowager Domme stopped by to pick up our daughter for brunch. Knowing I owed our readers a blog, I had my camera ready, but her shoes were pretty tame for a change: just some brown suede boots.  Not kinky enough to risk a surreptitious papparazi moment.

Left alone, there was that rather dull Carolina / Seattle game to entertain us. It was so (seemingly) dull that at half time we returned to our bed for a mid-afternoon nap, and another opportunity for slave to worship Mistress once she had finished her beauty rest.

That left the 2nd game of the day. Slave was happy to see the Donkeys finally eliminate the hated Stillers. Congratulations Mike! Peyton Fucking Manning lives to fight a final death match with Tom Brady. But remember, Mike, it was the Pussycats who softened them up for the kill! Every Matador needs a good Picador to poke holes and start the bleeding!

Monday was a sort of holiday in town. And while both of us went to work, it was easy for slave to slip out early, leaving time for some sundown sex in the UCTMW Executive Suite. A good way to start the work week if there is any good way.

After recovering, slave whipped up some dinner and we settled into watch the new Showtime series Billions, which stars Damien Lewis as a charmingly sleazy hedge fund billionaire, and Paul Giamatti as his Prosecutorial nemesis. It all sounded fairly predictable, until the very first scene popped up:

That's right: It's the son of the late baseball commissioner trussed up  and gagged in his boxers. And it's no kidnapping. Soon a mysterious lady in black highheeled boots looms over him, and proceeds to put her cigarette out on his left nipple.  Ouch.

So from the start you can tell this is not just your ordinary white collar procedural.

But who is the mystery lady? A Pro Domme that this over-caffeinated zealot goes to for therapy? His Secretary, earning some easy overtime hours?

Later you see scenes with the US Attorney, his dark haired wife (played by Maggie Siff) and their cute little kids at home. All pretty domestic and vanilla. And the wife turns out to be a Psychiatrist who, naturally, works for the hedge fund billionaire, setting  up a conflict of interest that will be a source of drama in episodes to come.

It's not until the final frames of Episode I that the show reveals the true nature of the Prosecutor's marriage. Home from a busy day at the office sending crooks to jail,  Giamatti  discovers that the cute little kids are already in bed and Mom is ready to take on her proper role:

Now those are boots worthy of Mistress, or the Dowager Domme.

It's good to see that the female led relationship has broken into the mainstream.

Or at least Pay cable.

Super Switch Sunday

It was the first "Super Sunday" Mistress and Slave had celebrated here at our SW hideaway. And Slave used the opportunity to exercise his Sunday "switch" privileges.

Fortunately, we had available equipment: some torn strips of an old bath towel make soft but secure "ropes" to tie Mistress on her tummy with her arms spread above her. And our back-up power tool was at the ready for some well placed erotic torture.

But that tight and alluring bottom was a little too tempting.

"You've been such a good Mistress lately, it's hard to justify breaking out the riding crop...."

"I'm glad you see it that way, Slave....."
Well, I did.  But I also suspect that Mistress gets a certain erotic thrill from a firm but fair hand spanking. So before I gave her that electric powered "treat" I made sure to redden that lovely butt with a series of not so gentle swats with my palm. While no tears were shed, Mistress did treat her Slave to lots of squirming and groaning.  And she seemed well warmed up as my probing fingers verified that her juices were already flowing before I switched on the Hitachi.

It's always fun to see her hump that efficient device, the muscles in her butt cheeks clinching and relaxing as she seeks just the right angle and pressure to push her over the top.

After much effort she finally got to the point where she asked her Slave's permission to cum.... and what sort of Slave would deny that boon to his loving Mistress.

Speaking of boons..... as the clock ticked down in the 4th quarter last night, I was wondering  whether our old friend Suzanne's favorite QB would get when he got back to the hotel room with  his Super - model spouse last night. Would it be a firm pegging and a month in the cock cage, or something more celebratory?

Brady certainly did all he could to stay on Gisele's good side.  But it took a brainless goal line call at the end by sleazy old Pete Carrol, and a fortunate interception by a rookie DB  to seal the deal and save Lil' Tommy's ass.

I suspect that Suzanne is still celebrating and that Jay got very lucky last night.  We miss you Suzanne!

On His Knees

Mistress and Slave had some time over the weekend to "catch up", with some nice two-a-day sex on Saturday, and some play with her favorite power tool on Sunday morning. Though she was a little reluctant to get on top and ride the work-a-day cock.

"My body is still pretty sore from all that action with Jay on Friday, Slave."

Well it was certainly mot my position to complain. Mistress deserves a little extra working of those Ab, thigh and ass muscles from her younger lover from time to time. And that requires a little body recovery time afterwards.

Speaking of a need for recovery time: Mr. Glamor Boy, aka Tom Brady of the New England Patriots, has an entire off-season to recover from his mistreatment by the boys in orange yesterday. Our Western Correspondent was in the stands with his sometimes ass fucking wife B to watch PFM get a little vengeance for his prior meltdowns against the Patriots and Brady. And with all the chain yanking that Glamor Boy gets from his super model wife, you have to admit he looks like a natural on his knees in this photo.

But now that her team has been eliminated, maybe Suzanne over at All Mine can come out of hiding, with or without Bob Kraft's Super Bowl ring. We did get a furtive email from her yesterday, possibly from some distant gulag, where she claimed it was 1 degrees and the game was not to be found on TV.

Suzanne, that's a long way to go to dodge a wager on your favorite closeted submissive QB!

Internationally Famous Domme and Sports Wagerer Goes Convenieintly Missing?

This weekend brings the penultimate encounters of the seemingly endless NFL season. And the marquee affair is one of a long and storied series of match-ups between Peyton Manning, now of the Denver Broncos and Tom Brady, who has stuck with the New England Patriots through his career.

Manning, in the twilight of his career, has once again given his team a record setting regular season. He's one of those good-old-boy types from a deep red state, but now  presents himself more like a stock broker panhandling for high net worth clients, than some cracker from Mississippi. He's very button down in those  post game press conferences, like he's rehearsing for a career as Governor of Nebraska. Was this the same guy who appeared as a cut up on Saturday Night Live early in his career? The trouble is that in the post-season, he has tended to flinch, under-performing when the games count the most.

On the other hand, Tom Brady, who came to the Pats by way of Michigan as a late round draft choice, has cultivated the glamor boy look, particularly after he hooked up with that super model, who seems to keep him on a very short leash. The way he stands tall in the pocket makes you think she sometimes forgets to remove the butt plug or cock cage before game time. Tom is more often seen in a tux, with that spikey hair coif than in his sweats at practice.But he does seem to peak at the right time, taking his team farther and deeper in the pay-offs on a consistent basis than any of his contemporaries.

Yeah, I know, they are just jocks. Why write about them in some sex blog, Mick?

Well my point is that two of the "friends of UCTMW", Suzanne over at All Mine, and our underproductive Western Correspondent, have some skin in this game. The WC is a die hard "Donkeys" fan, convinced that "PFM" is the 2nd coming of John Elway and will return his team to the promised land. While Suzanne has a soft spot for her Patriots, and probably would like sloppy seconds with Mr. Glamour Boy when Giselle is done with her pre-game ass fucking.

In light of these competitive interests, one would think there could be constructed a colorful cross-blog wager over the outcome of this weekend's mammoth struggle, right?  Maybe some surrogate 'back channel" take downs involving Mike or Suzanne? Or how about Suzanne's lover Jay being the "butt boy" for a change.... he has the season tix right? What if he and Tammy trade places for a week, with Jay in the cock cage doing the fluffing, should the mighty Brady strike out.

It had such great potential.

But then something mysterious happened. Suddenly Suzanne and  ALL Mine went dark this week. Right in the middle of the play-offs.

Is she on some secret mission: maybe accompanying her former Senator, John Kerry to the Middle East to give Syrian President Assad a taste of what he's missing to induce him into exile?

Or could she be on an undercover mission to Moscow, hoping to retrieve Bob Kraft's Super Bowl ring from President Putin. They say he's going a little soft, releasing Pussy Riot and all. Maybe Suzanne brought Big Blackie along to REALLY bring out Vladdy's feminine side?

On the other hand, maybe Suzanne is just dodging the bet, her confidence in the outcome and Mr. Glamor Boy fading. PFM's win over the weekend, after three consecutive play-off busts, suggests he may have overcome his post-season jitters. And the last  time Glamour Boy faced a Manning in the Super Bowl - little brother Eli - well it didn't turn out so well for the Patriots.

Are you hiding from us Suzanne?

Glamor Boy Skulks Back to the Coast

Slave returned home from today's game very wet, but gratified that my prediction of the inevitable outcome was finally confirmed. And while I expected the Pussycats to emerge victorious, I must say that even I did not expect that the Boy Wonder's 50 + game streak of TD passes would come to an end at the hands of the lowly Pussycats.

Of course, you have to give Suzanne credit. She too must have come to the conclusion that her Patriots' undefeated record would not survive a trip to River City. Otherwise she and her loyal subjects would have taken my offer to join us here for the game, and post some intriguing stakes on the outcome.

You do have to admire Tom Brady though. He strides onto the field like an executive trying to convince skeptical analysts that his stock is a bargain, and struck a particularly  alluring figure in those pink accessories worn this week in honor of the Breast Cancer Awareness. But he looked particularly cute on his ass, after those four sacks and numerous other QB "pressures" he had to endure. And after all, he does get to go back to the babe who some speculate regularly deploys a strap-on to keep him in line.

On the drive home, Slave got a chance to listen to "Hoodie"s" so called press conference, that lasted all of two minutes, one for each field goal his offensive juggernaut was able to muster. He's a man of few words. It makes you feel for the guy.... after all these years he should be spared the cruel indignity of having to play games on the road, and/or in the rain!

Fortunately, Mistress was here when I got home. After peeling off my sodden jeans, and confirming that my I-phone had not shorted out, we adjourned to the bed for some R & R. She seemed to enjoy my enthusiastic  worship, almost as much as she did her run-in with her favorite power tool this morning, Those pre-game rituals can't be ignored, and certainly paid off for our Tigers.

My only regret was that Suzanne, Jay and Tammy weren't here to "enjoy" the game, and pay-off on the bet they dodged.

Who knows, maybe we'll meet here again in the play-offs,  and they will run out of alibis.

Glamor Boy Comes to Town

Slave hightailed it back from our flat state capitol Friday afternoon. There was a certain pent up urgency when Mistress and Slave finally had a chance to break that long 48 hour patch of denial caused by my absence for that tedious seminar.

And we kept up the pace Saturday morning, and then again late Saturday afternoon, after Mistress took a long bike ride with her former fuck buddy, Jay.

Last night we were out with some friends, including the former colleague who will be joining me for this afternoon's big game between the Pats and our local Pussycats. While I had attempted to tempt Suzanne, Jay and Tammy to join is here for the game, their series of lame alibis suggested that they had little confidence that their undefeated team could handle to pressure of a road trip to River City.

And they may also have dodged some bad weather: it's been raining buckets here since last night, and one forecast suggests the possibility of hail and lightning at game time. I'm wondering if the NFL's confounding security policies will allow me to wear my grandfather's steel WWI helmet to ward off hailstones - it may not be transparent, but if it's on my head as opposed to in a back pack, do you think I can get through security?

Bad weather actually could be good for the Pussycats. The Pats are one of those "finesse" teams with their high fashion offense and pretty boy QB. I suppose it's no wonder that Suzanne is smitten by him, when you consider what he wears under that red white and blue jersey:

But lightening, rain and hail might tend to disrupt the finely tuned rhythm between glamor boy and his new "receivers", particularly with his favorite tight end locked up and awaiting trial, and another of his favorite receivers now doing his smurf routine for our Western Correspondent's Donkeys out west. We just hope Suzanne and her lads enjoyed yesterday's victory by the Red Sox, since this afternoon may not be quite as rewarding. By the end of the game, they may all want to share Jay's pain relievers. Or just dull the pain with some exotic sex.

Now it's time for Slave to go upstairs and tend to Mistress's pre-game requirements. We all have quiky rituals we need to deploy for good karma, and I think you have an idea what that involves here at the UCTMW World HQ. It will certainly include a "good luck" power tool.

The Brady "Slide": A UCTMW Investigative Report

Deadspin.com has gotten some attention in the last two weeks for their hard hitting investigative reporting on whether a certain naive linebacker made up his dead girlfriend, or if someone made her up for him.

It made me realize that we've lost our edge here at UCTMW in recent months, what with our Western Correspondent continuing to malinger on a long running worker's comp leave, and our Senior Correspondent trolling for cute cat pictures on the internet.

Ah well, I suppose it's time for Mick to don his Sherlock Holmes chapeau and see what I can unearth.

But in truth, it was actually Suzanne over at All Mine that got me onto this story.

Last Sunday, as Mistress snoozed through the second half of an endless NFL play-off double header, Suzanne (who was home with Tammy watching her beloved Patriots lay a 2nd half goose egg against the Ravens) and I were trading emails about the deterioration of Tom Brady's game in recent years.

And the one thing that symbolized it was a rather bizarre "slide" late in the first half.  You can see the video here: (Brady Slide video).  My first impression was that he looked like an un-co-ordinated dork. But on further review, it may be that he was "fending off" Raven safety Ed Reed in a not too veiled effort to "eunuchize" the guy who has feasted on interceptions from Brady and other NFL QB's over the years.  Now the NFL has socked Brady with a $10,000 fine,  apparently concluding that his upraised leg was not just a "spaz attack", but more akin to Pete Rose trying to take out a catcher.

Classy.

Suzanne also tutted about Brady's failure to run for a first down in the 2nd half, when a forced throw ended yet another drive for her Pats.

So what accounts for this "slide" in Tom Brady's performance?  Suzanne speculated it was the "curse of Gisele", his super-model wife.

"They haven't won a Super Bowl since the big wedding day."

Hmmmm..... Is it just bad luck, or is Gisele doing something to Tom that has made him lose that competitive edge?

Suzanne had a theory: "Maybe she's fucking him in the ass..... ?"

Ah, the possible sissification of the guy who used to be the NFL's most potent stud-muffin.  That might explain it. Could there  be evidence?  Sure enough, as I trolled about the internet, there was plenty:

Certainly Gisele cuts an authoritative path:

And Tom has begun sporting the trappings of sub status:

Some recent images of the two of them together makes it pretty clear through their body language who is in charge, doesn't it?

And what about this shot? That's them right?

So over a few short years, with some intensive "therapy", Tom Brady has turned from the guy who would risk all to score that winning TD in a snowstorm, to this guy:

It made me wonder what Gisele picks out for him to wear under those tight football pants and jersey before a big game. Amazingly, I was able to get to the bottom of that too:

Very cute, don't you think?

But as Suzanne ultimately concluded: "Not that there's anything wrong with that."

Well I suppose I can see her point of view.