Sustained Abstinence at the UCTMW World HQ

Mistress and slave are in a very and atypical dry spell.

After years of nearly daily sex (unless someone was out of town), we are in a mutual abstinence mode because Mistress had a medical procedure.

"The Doctor says no sex for six weeks, slave."

Yikes.

We are now on the cusp of week two or our painfully long sexual desert.

That's right, no orgasms for either one of us for 13 days and counting.

We used to have a weekly "abstinence day", for slave but we gave up on that years ago.

When Mistress travels for more than a couple of days, she typically gives me permission to engage in "self abuse".

"I don't want you to be tempted to take that cock elsewhere, slave....", she has said, and she's kind enough to not keep me in an uncomfortable cage for an extended number of days.

She is a kind and indulgent Mistress after all.

But we are off into a new frontier now.

Every night we are aligned side by side in bed, her lovely body pressed against mine.  So tempting, yet out of bounds.

And when we share a shower, I can slide my paws off her firm breasts and ripe buns.  But can't take it any farther.  Yesterday in the shower she playfully teased my cock, which began to firm up for her in seconds after a few gentle squeezes.  Ugh.

Mistress has offered to indulge me if I want.  But I feel a little guilty taking her up on her offer.  After all, if she can't cum, then why should her slave have all the fun?  Or any fun.  Shouldn't I be sharing her pain?

This morning we are planning an experiment.  I will see if I can safely worship with my lips and tongue, without causing her any pain.  It could be dicey. And she may have to "call off the dogs" before I can deliver what she certainly deserves.

But if I can't, should I allow her to pleasure me?  Or would a good slave put his Mistress's pleasure before his own, and voluntarily continue to abstain until her MD waves the "gentlemen start your engines" flag?

The WC Takes Charge

Our day started with cage in the hard steel ring that serves as a "seat' for my cock cage. Mistress had the benefit of a particular solid cock for her morning fucking, but only after some persistent oral servicing.

After both Mistress and slave were satisfied, the cage was secured and the key tucked away on Mistress's dresser. It was then time to head to our second session with a tag team of therapists to help us work through our current "troubles".

As we waited in their rather spartan waiting room, I had to tease Mistress a bit.

"Should I mention that more cage time and cropping are part of our recovery therapy, Mistress."

"There's no reason to go there, slave", Mistress scolded.

"How about the whole cuckolding thing?"

"That would only distract them from the real problem here, slave..... which is your deception of me."

"Understood, Mistress. But won't they think it's weird if I squirm too much because of this cage?"

"They'll probably just think your nervous, as you should be!"

Of course, slave had no intention to raise any of those issues. And the session proceeded pretty much as the first one had.....no harm done, and hopefully a little progress in my effort to reassure Mistress of my unwavering loyalty.

After that session we were off to work. When I returned home, Mistress gave me a parole from my cage so I could finally get some exercise on my bike after too many days on the road and with nasty weather.

When I returned, there was some more worship before dinner.  But Mistress had a couple of revelations:

1. She had gotten a message from her old college boyfriend (the guy who was into bondage) who is going to be in town today for a while. He wants to meet her for a little reunion. Mistress seems inclined to pencil him into her busy schedule.

"So what's going to happen there, Mistress?"

"Hmmmm..... he's married slave.....you know how I feel about that....."

"But what if long lost love sparks start flying. Could you resist?"

"I guess we'll find out, slave....."


2. Mistress had been in touch with the WC about how her slave should be punished.

"He sent me a text he said he wants you to share slave.....He says "cropping every day. And only two orgasms / week. And of course, daily in the cage....."

"I can deal with the cropping and the cage Mistress.  But only twice a week?  Won't you miss my cock, at least until you find a suitable replacement? "


"I suppose I would slave..... but I can just tell you not to cum, can't I?"

Gee, thanks, WC.

Aborted Abstinence Experiment

I started out yesterday morning with plans to test the hypothesis presented by that article from "Moneyish" discussed on this page: would the denial of wake-up sex make me less efficient at work.

The bad news (or the good news) , my experiment never got off the ground.  Shortly after I posted here, Mistress sent me an early and unexpected text message from her chambers above.

"Are you still here, slave?"

Of course, I was. And so I scrambled up the stairs to find her awake and raring to go for some earlier than normal wake-up sex.  I guess I will have to reschedule my experiment at some yet to be announced day when slave will have to go to work horny.

Since I was out the door so early for work, and the weather was unusually warm and sunny here, I bolted from the office early to go on a bike ride with Mistress. We were then back in bed by about     4 pm  for a much needed late afternoon nap. (That's what happens when you have your wake-up sex at 7 am!)

But before we nodded off, I noticed Mistress tapping away on her lap-top.

"It's my old college boy-friend again, slave....."

Mistress had mentioned that they'd had a conversation yesterday afternoon, the first talk they'd had on some time.

"Hmmm..... I think he wants to fuck you, Mistress...."

"He probably does slave.  He reminded me of a time we had sex with me pressed up against his car....."

"Did you remember that, Mistress?"

"After he reminded me, I did.  It was pretty hot....."

I must say it was rather hot contemplating my lithe, hot Mistress in her college girl persona being taken from behind as she was pressed up against a Reagan era Camaro, thrusting her ass back to meet college boyfriend's anxious, frenzied thrusts.

"Did you raise the issue of him tying you up 'back in the day'"?

"No slave.... I'm taking it easy....so far....."

"So where is this headed, Mistress....."

"He says he'd like to get together sometime if our travel schedules puts us close."

We will see how this develops.

Abstinence Day Experiment

Mistress and slave had a relatively restful weekend, including a night on the town, an evening watching one of the Oscar nominees, and Sunday evening at home. We fit in some time with family. And of course there was plenty of sex, including a two-a-day Saturday.  For us, it’s common to have sex at least once each day, with the occasional exception caused by an early curtain call for one of us at work. That’s typically every other Monday morning when we are here in River City. For an older guy like me, it probably puts us as “outlyers” on the scale of sex frequency. According to an article I noticed in “Moneyish”, we might be having too much sex!

About one in 10 (12%) had no sex in the past year, 21% had it several times per year, and 34% once or twice a month, according to a study of 20,000 couples. One study found that having sex once a week is the perfect amount to boost relationship satisfaction.

So if we cut our sex back to only once a week, we might be less satisfied with our relationship?  I don’t think so! (The article does not say how many couples have sex 6-7 times / wk.)

One thing this article makes clear is that if you have more sex at home you are amore efficient and effective worker.

Having less frequent and less satisfying sex isn’t just a problem at home either: It also impacts your work. A study of married couples published last year in the Journal of Management found that, regardless of how happy their marriage was, the day after an employee had sex with his or her partner, she was more satisfied and engaged with her career. What’s more, people who engage in sex at least four times per week make more money than those who do the deed less frequently, according to a discussion paper from Nick Drydakis, a fellow at the Institute for the Study of Labor. Regular sex is also correlated with lowered stress and higher on-the-job productivity.

I may be putting this hypothesis to a test today.  I am the one with the early curtain call this AM. So while there was sex yesterday morning here at the UCTMW World HQ, there will be none this am.  Mistress has made it clear that while she enjoys here work-a-day cock, she does not want to be woken so early this morning. So slave will just have to “buck up” (or, I suppose, take matters into my own hand.) 

I promise to report back whether my morning of unwelcome abstinence will make me a grumpier, less effective worker today. I may have to survey my co-workers to see of they notice the difference.

They're Back......

Yes, tights season is back!  Here in River City, we had the last gasp of summer over the weekend. Sunny skies. Temperatures in the 70's.  But when we woke here Monday morning, temperatures were falling and skies were gray.

"I think tights season is here, slave....."

Of course, since slave has a long and viral tights kink, Mistress had a devilish grin on her face as she let me watch her shake out some black tights that had been languishing since April in her mysterious tights and undies drawer. I stood there slack jawed watching her bunch them up and slither those shapely mountain climber legs into them.

Yum.

The sad part is that it was one of those Monday mornings when Mistress had a way too early meeting, meaning that slave would have to defer his own sexual release until later in the afternoon. Compound my horny by the fact that Mistress had been away since Friday morning, visiting our daughter in GA. When she arrived back at the UCTMW World HQ late Sunday night, she was way too tired from a long flight back for any "catch up" sex. So slave had actually been on abstinence watch for more than THREE DAYS.  Dang.

Slave's been back at a "2nd career" sort of job these last few weeks. But thoughts were lingering on Mistress in those black tights, and the prospect of breaking that long, sad abstinence streak when I got back to her.

Mistress threw some kindling on the smoldering fire with a test around 3:30.....

"Let's have sex this afternoon, slave....."

"Absolutely", I quickly responded, hoping those in the meeting would not be offended by my distraction.

"I'm in bed now....."

That gave me the extra motivation to steer my meeting to a prompt conclusion.

My bonus: Mistress was still in those black tights, with nothing more, when I slid into bed next to her an hour later.

CUCKOLD ALERT:

Tonight Mistress will be entertaining at home one of her OKCupid suitors. This is Ken, for those keeping score. Slave will be cooking.

"I won't necessarily be having sex with him tonight slave.  Not sure we are ready for that."

Ken is the guy working on a Ph. d. (of sorts) in "sacred sexuality". But entertaining. And clearly drawn to Mistress. However, the jury is still out for Mistress on whether sparks will fly between the two of them.

"Makes sense. Let's just play it by ear."

Updates, tomorrow.

In Defense of Pampering Your House Slave

On Wednesday I reported on that guy who believes that "happiness" is enhanced by denying males sexual release, based on a formula that would limit old guys like me to a cum frequency of no more than 1 every 14 days.  You younger guys can do it a little more frequently, no doubt because he's younger!  The formula of (age-7)/4 was offered up without much explanation.

I can tell you that Mistress, when exposed to this argument scoffed.  I think she likes to spoil her slave, or at least has come to believe that I behave better when encouraged to "release" all those sexual fluids on a regular basis.

But at the back of my mind was my recollection of studies that said men have a better chance of avoiding prostrate cancer.  Of course my own thoughts on who does or does not get prostrate cancer is purely anecdotal. I am at an age when I've known several guys who dealt with this disease, including my own father, then in his mid-70's.  The other, younger guys I know all fall into a certain category: nice guys who didn't seem likely to be getting much "action" at home, and unlikely to look for it elsewhere. (Of course, I could be completely wrong about that, I'm just making a probably unfair judgment about them based on their personalities and who their spouses).

Fortunately, one of our commenters did the research for me and came up with an article  with the name Harvard attached to it.  From there I found another article with the name Johns Hopkins attached to it.  The gist of both is that initially folks hypothesized that more frequent sex might actually encourage prostrate cancer by exposing a guy to STDs and inflammation.  But then someone actually did a study of sexually active guys in middle age and this is the summary:

Previous studies have been inconclusive, notes Platz, but "taken together, they hint that men who have more sex, or who have had a sexually transmitted disease, are more likely to have prostate cancer."

Platz and her colleagues at Harvard and the National Cancer Institute were unconvinced. As part of a massive study, led by epidemiologist Michael Leitzmann at Harvard, they recently studied nearly 30,000 men participating in the Health Professionals Follow-up Study. Most of these men were white and middle-aged, and very few had ever had a sexually transmitted disease. "In 1992, we asked the men who did not have prostate cancer to report their typical number of ejaculations per month in their twenties, forties, and during the past year," says Platz.

Could a man's sexual activity have any repercussions-one way or the other-on his risk of getting prostate cancer?

Over the next eight years, nearly 1,500 of these men went on to develop prostate cancer.

The scientists found that men who reported more ejaculations-more than 21 a month, on average across their adult life-had two-thirds the lifetime risk of prostate cancer of men who reported fewer (4 to 7) ejaculations a month. Notes Platz: "Compared with men reporting fewer ejaculations per month at all ages, men who reported 21 or ejaculations per month had one-fourth the risk of prostate cancer."

Certain important features of this study make these observations more credible, she adds. One is the sheer number of men involved; another is "the fact that the men reported their ejaculation frequency well before they were diagnosed with prostate cancer." Also, the scientists were able to rule out such factors as a man's history of sexually transmitted diseases, which could have clouded the results.

Another recent study of many men, with and without prostate cancer, has produced similar findings, says Platz. "Based on these two large, well-conducted studies, men should not be worried that frequent ejaculation will cause prostate cancer." The next step, she adds, is to figure out why frequent ejaculation seems to have this protective effect, and the role inflammation plays here.

I am one of those fortunate guys who has averaged more than 22 orgasms per month for the last 23 years or so.  I would bet I am at about 30  / month over those years, with the occasional two-a-day canceling out the rare abstinence day. 

So it seems that according to this study, Mistress's approach to her slave's orgasm management - whether intended or not - may assure that my chances of getting prostrate cancer are one third less than those of you who have less than 21 cums per month. 

Of course, one can still draw the bad card and lose out, despite all that good behavior. We all know folks who have had heart attacks who eat well and exercise regularly.  Sometimes your number is up despite the "odds".  

But in terms of my own "happiness", and while toying with tease and denial every now and then can have  a certain appeal, I am glad Mistress has elected to "stay the course" and continue pampering her house slave. 

Slave's Long Nightmare Ending?

As reported here earlier this week, Mistress had a medical procedure last Friday which has caused the imposition of a temporary embargo on the insertion of foreign objects through the gateway presented by those alluring clean shaven folds.

That includes her "work-a-day" cock.

And while I've been allowed to worship with lips and tongue these last few days to soothe her way to a full recovery, Slave has been shut down for a whole 5 days at this point.

And, believe it or not, the "no touch" rule has been honored through this entire, ugly ordeal.

Last night I came home from work to discover Mistress in her peek-a-boo tights.

Argh.

She did allow me to worship on our bed in the UCTMW executive suite, her folds easily accessed once she spread those firm and muscular thighs.

Yum.

And we've made an "appointment" to resume full conjugal privileges this morning.

"I should be good to go in the morning, Slave, as long as you are gentle with me."

My heart skipped a beat. And her work-a-day cock gave a little twitch. Signs of life? Though I must say that the thought of returning to action makes me a little nervous.

"But what if I've forgotten how to do it, Mistress? It's been so long."

"Don't worry slave, I think I can remind you."

Let's hope.

Mistress and Slave on Ice

Mistress was able to find an opening in her busy schedule for some afternoon nooky with her lover Jay on Thursday.  So when I came home Thursday night she had that "well fucked" look on her face, and even allowed me to have a taste of the residue mingling with her own sweet juices in her clean shaven folds.

"Can you taste anything different, Slave?" she asked, after I had soothed an extra cum out of her.

"Hmmm.... yes, Mistress. A little extra salty taste maybe...."

Sadly, I've never been the sort of natural juices connoisseur who can come up with flowery phraseology to describe the impressions made upon my taste buds.

Unfortunately, the wake up sex generously allowed by Mistress on Friday morning may be the last time Slave has for some sexual release until the middle of this coming week. Mistress had a minor medical procedure Friday afternoon (performed by the MD who got to enjoy her 'walk of shame" a few week weeks back). All went well, but her clean shaven folds are on the injured reserve list at least until Wednesday, when we head for France with our older cute Co-Ed.

Of course, all this abstinence is nothing new to lots of you out there. Your typical married middle aged couple probably only have sex once or twice a week anyway.  But 4 days without sex at the UCTMW World HQ is quite an abberation. If not an abomination!

Mistress finally was shaking off the aftereffects of the anesthesia this afternoon, as Slave prepared to watch the local Pussycats take on Johnny Football.

"I'm kind of horny, Slave....."

Slave can take a hint.  I persuaded her to let me to provide a little surface therapy with the tip of my tongue. Believe me, no arm twisting was required. 

"I don't think the doctor said 'no orgams' slave....."

I proceeded gently, not wanting to press Mistress's luck. Fortunately, she seemed able to cope with my delicate ministrations until they had the desired effect.

"Ummm.... that was nice, Slave....."

Let's hope this did not setback her recovery.

Slave is getting a little horny too.

Abstinence Week

Mistress and Slave made it back to River City safely on Sunday evening.  Thankfully we had some hot wake-up sex back in Harry Truman's hometown Sunday morning, because by the time we pulled into the driveway at around 7 pm, Slave could only muster some worship for his beloved Mistress.

Now we are on an unusually long break from our typical conjugal rights because of a medical procedure Mistress had scheduled for Monday afternoon. Nothing serious, mind you. But it will keep us chaste at least through the end of the week.

Which goes to show that even at the UCTMW World HQ there can be a break from the sexual routine.

I'm not exactly sure how we will handle all this pent up demand for several days. Do we go the "distraction" route, and ignore everything with  sexual cues?  Skip the  season premier episode of "Masters of Sex" on Showtime, in favor of the baseball All-Star Game?

Or start posting about when out cleaning person comes, like Fury did yesterday?

At times like these I really miss Suzanne. I know she'd have a helpful suggestion. But then it would inevitably involve a cock cage.

Off to Our Mountain Hideaway

Yesterday morning Mistress waltzed into the UCTMW World HQ at around 7:30 with a sly, well fucked grin on her face.

"You look like you had a nice evening, Mistress...."

"I did Slave...."

She gave me a deep, stirring kiss, but was not in the mood to "dawdle".

"Need to take a shower Slave.... then maybe I can read the blog?"

I knew that her schedule would be tight. We needed to leave for work at 8:30 am. And though her lush body was lovely to toy with in the shower, I knew that my pleasure would be deferred until later.... way later.

She did allow me to savor those well fucked folds after our shower, as she read my work product from yesterday morning.

But soon we were off to work.

Mistress has been intensely busy at work these last few weeks. I knew it would be another hard day for her. and though she had to drop by my office to sign some papers in the early afternoon, there was not even time for me to worship.

Sad, I know.

But by 6 pm, when I picked her hope for the drive home, I was looking forward to my chance to break my nearly 36 hour "fast".  As we drove home, Mistress did give J a call. I think she does get a special thrill when she speaks frankly with him on my presence about their sexual exploits. Or even the trouble she had navigating her way to the Loo in the dark before sliding back into bed next to him.

All this talk had Slave's cock twitching, as I gazed on those lovely naked thighs next to me in the car, her skirt hiked nearly to her lacy yellow undies.

So I can't say that I was disappointed when Mistress announced that we would forego our bike ride and head directly to bed.

Of course there was some preliminary oral worship, which I think Mistress found satisfying.

And then there was some groping and writhing as Mistress took those steps she deemed appropriate to assure that her Slave was desperately begging for the privilege of fucking her.

Rest assured that the deferred consumption on Slave's part was well worth the wait by the time Mistress finally gave me permission to cum.

The rest of the evening was laid back.... Mistress did get in that twilight bike ride. Slave mowed the lawn, then made us a spicy stir fry.

This evening will be strange though.... I am off to our Mountain Hideaway solo. Mistress will be following me on Sunday, stuck here in River City due to a Saturday business meeting.  Yes, you can imagine the grousing. But we both look forward to the final week of ski season in the Sangre de Christo Mountains.

It's the first time either one of us have spent time in our little cabin solo. It will be odd not to have that lovely body next to mine. It will be hard not to imagine her body nearby, in one of those special poses when I wake there on Switch Day without her.

We've yet to establish my own protocol while away. Of course, the cage will not work because there are metal detectors to go through.  But will the "no touch" rule apply? For two whole nights?

The WC asked yesterday how that was enforced the other night during Mistress's sleepover. Believe it or not, I was on the "honor system". I know Miguel, that's hard to comprehend.  You'd last on the honor system for about 90 minutes, I'd expect.

And the sad part about our little two nights apart is that J is tied up with a family commitment and will not be able to host Mistress at his love shack tonight or Saturday evening. I'm hoping for both of their sakes that they can work in some type of interlude together over the weekend, since Mistress won't be back with me for another week once she leaves River City Sunday morning.

So, since this will be my last chance to spend some between-the-sheets time with Mistress until Sunday evening..... have a good weekend readers!

HNT / Command Performance

Mistress asked “what are you doing, Slave”, as I took this picture of her perky nipple peeking out from beneath her lacy nighttime confection.

It was Sunday morning. She was staked out on our bed, spread eagle style, waiting for the feather.

“Just stocking up on some photos for your many fans, Mistress.”

I hope you readers in Abu Dabi, Germany, France, England, New Zealand like these little glimpses of My Mistress’s physical charms.


I knew I was due some form of punishment for several unfortunate and impertinent comments I made Monday evening. Mistress is really pretty easy on me, but what’s the point in having a Slave who gives you “back sass”, as my grandmother used to put it.

There have to be consequences.

I had a hint of what they might be by Tuesday evening.

“Slave… tomorrow wake me around 6:45…. You can lick me when I read the blog. But no sex for you. We’ll be going on a morning bike ride instead.

“Of course, Mistress.”

So Mistress was worshiped. Then we were off in the pre-dawn glow. It was great for my body and my head to get the heart pumping so early, and watch the sun come up and light those glorious fall leaves.

So the denial of my normal morning sexual release was hardly frustrating.

Yesterday, Mistress dressed the part for fall. Black mid-thigh dress, black tights, And these new over the knee black boots that was an addition to her fall/winter wardrobe.

Hot.

I must share some pictures of those soon.

I knew she would be getting some jaw dropping looks as she strode about downtown.

And, on the commute to work, as I let my fingers slide across the soft fabric containing her recently exercised thighs, I already was regretting not getting that morning release.

We attended a political event that evening after work, and we enjoyed each other's company as we chatted up the crowd. I appreciated the looks that Mistress and her shiny high boots were getting, There may have been a few potential applicants for Slave2 on hand.

By the time we got home, I was hoping that my sentence would be commuted. And it seemed that way as we spread ourselves across the bed and talked for a while with Aisha.

It’s always a surprise to hear the voice of someone you’ve come to know through the written word. Her voice is a bit deeper than you might think, with a knowing and open laugh. And she comes with a soft, regional twang that came, for no good reason, as a bit of a surprise. She could be cast in the kink remake of “Gone With the Wind”, topping Rhett from below. Tara will come with a dungeon this time.

We can’t wait to meet her and Sir D as they guide us through what is sure to me an “interesting” experience.

It’s nice to have even more fodder for our kinky fantasies, and inspiration for our own experiments.

As we talked, Mistress was pointed north on the bed, and me south, with our speaker phone in the middle. It gave me the chance to suck on her toes, her tights already peeled off, and, from time to time, slide my fingers up her legs to tease at those soft, damp folds.

Mistress’s sweet, musky aroma was part of the conversation, at least to me. And it was telling me “soon, Slave, soon.”

As a consequence, I probably terminated our chat a little prematurely.

“Well, Aisha, this was fun. But we have some things to take care of here…..Let’s talk again soon.”

I’m not sure she understood what I had in mind, but I do apologize if it seemed abrupt.

But as I tucked the phone a way. Mistress gave me the bad news.

“Slave, I think I’m a little tired tonight. You will have to wait until morning.”

Damn.

A stealth abstinence day.

“That’s only fair Mistress…. After how I handled things the other night.”

“Yes…. It is Slave.”

But there is a “happy ending”. Or was.

Around 3:35 am, I was woken by a little whisper from Mistress.

A woke to realize that my arm was draped between her legs. I could feel those subtle undulations already, her hips discretely moving against me.

“You are now allowed to fuck me slave….”

Well I was a little groggy, true. But I shook myself out of that middle of the night lethargy,

I was not going to make that mistake again.

“Thank you, Mistress….”

24 Hour Embargo

First, I hope none of you are offended by the new “look” here at UCTMW. I got playing with the tools available in google-world and thought I would go for something a tad more readable. The key was  to find colors that complemented all those lovely photos of my Mistress’s hot body.

But the new background does have a strange way of giving the impression this is the home of Marge and Homer, not Molly and Mick. Let us know if it’s a turn-off.

 I suppose that for some of you lurkers our there, the dark look of our previous format may have triggered some sort of Pavlovian response after months of conditioning. If so, be patient, that instant response below the belt buckle, is sure to return after you get re-programmed by the new look.

I already received a thumbs up from our Western Correspondent, though I doubt he’s done his market research yet. He tends to shoot from the cock. (No disrespect intended, oh Master of my Mistress).

I also apologize for breaking our switch day into three blog parts. It seemed like I had lots of material to work with, and I am always mindful of my deadline: If I don’t get my daily entry posted by 7:45 am Eastern time, Slave’s window of opportunity to service my Mistress closes. And if that happens too often, my material could run dry.

So let me bring you up to date on our busy week here in River City…..

Monday on the ride home, Mistress was feeling rather playful. It sounds as if M had done a good job of getting her juices flowing with some snappy conversation and lusty text messaging focused on the prospects of an ultimate rendezvous. It may be that his fears of spontaneous human combustion are subsiding? Or has he arranged to have a local volunteer fire department on call?

And while there are no immediate plans for such an encounter, the opening window seemed to be priming Mistress to an unusual degree. She even snapped the photo above to send to M by text message on our ride home.

Once we got home, Mistress was more than happy to accept my offer of worship.

“But let’s share the moment with M too, Slave.”

I had no standing to object, as she took another shot with her I-Phone camera, of my sadly balding head, between her spread legs, as I was deploying  my well developed skills.

And when I was done, she handed me the camera to take a close up of that swollen red clit, poking out from between her lush, clean shaven lips. I’ll bet M did a double take when that juicy shot popped up on his cell phone.

But my own reward was deferred until later, after a bike ride in our smog infused, late summer air.

Yesterday, Mistress had some news to share with me.

“M and I have arranged for a date on Thursday morning. And this time his instructions are very clear ….. I can’t come for 24 hours before hand.”

I got the news as Mistress stopped by my office for some pre-lunch engagement worship. I considered this development as I knelt before her, helping her slide those tight black panties down her legs.

“Well that clears up any confusion Mistress. I take it he’s reviewed Sin’s blog on the subject of clarity in these matters.”

Last night, as we began to make love, I brought up the subject of her impending orgasm embargo again.

“How does it feel to have your orgasms managed, Mistress?”

“Well I must say it’s against my nature – I’m not used to being told what to do, but…..”

“But what, Mistress?”

“It’s pretty hot Slave….pretty hot….”

I went back over the rules with her….

“So I suppose Wednesday morning is our last chance then?”

“Yes Slave. That’s his order.”

“I’m betting by tomorrow evening you are going to feel a little antsy, Mistress.”

“I suppose….”

“And you won’t mind me teasing you a little, will you?”

The thought of it was starting to drive her a little crazy, That, and my finger strumming her clit.

“Oh, God….”

By now Mistress was retaliating: cupping my balls with her fingers as I fucked her from above. I was closer than my game plan called for at the moment. Considering whether it would be un-cool to ask for permission.

And just then, Mistress decided to turn the tables.

“Slave, I may want to get on top in a bit, so no coming. Just keep on fucking me…..”

She continued to taunt my balls with those well manicured nails.

And, of course, being told to keep fucking, but not come, had me tied in a perverse little knot.

I wanted to come. I wanted to beg. But I knew that Mistress on top would make for a very interesting ride.

But she was in no hurry.

Fuck.

So close.

But following orders, I was trying to think about the Glenn Beck curse on the Cardinals, anything to take the edge off my needy cock.

Finally she had mercy.

“Roll over, Slave.”

Ahhh.

“Of course, Mistress.”

She settled in for quite a few furlongs as she slowly rode me, remarking about how hard my cock was….. That's something a Slave always likes to hear, even though the odds were she might have been imagining riding a certain “special occasion cock” instead.

Whatever turns you on is fair game in my book.

The pressure for a quick release now off me, it was my turn to throw a little rhetorical fuel on the fire.

“Imagine how horny you will be Thursday morning, Mistress. After more than 24 hours without an orgasm.”

“I know Slave….I will be desperate.”

“I will have to test you before I leave. Run my fingers through your cunt in the shower, but not nearly hard enough to risk violating your obligations.”

“You wouldn’t, would you?”

Mistress was riding me harder now, but still pacing herself. She was building her parts to critical mass inexorably, preparing to go nuclear.

“And I wonder if he will make you beg for permission, Mistress….”

“That's what he did last week Slave….he made me beg.”

Hmmm. Something I had not gotten from her in that Friday night de-briefing.

“Oh really, Mistress….how did that feel.”

“It drove me crazy, Slave….I was so desperate….and it was so frustrating to have to wait.”

“Did you feel like his needy little slut, Mistress?”

It was about that time when the snappy patter gave way to Mistress focusing on that explosion she had been building to. All of her muscles tensing, a slow deep moan building in her lungs and roaring out of her mouth as she collapsed onto me.

By the time she rolled off, her cheeks were wet with her tears, her sobs were subsiding, and her body was limp and exhausted. And I was allowed to complete our rather dramatic session from above.

When she graciously gave me permission to come, my explosion came in a series of waves that had my own body tingling for the next 20 minutes or so.

Yikes.

It was smut-ergy of the highest order.

And since my deadline is now upon us, I’d better get upstairs before Mistress’s 24 hour embargo kicks in.

Back in River City

We made it back late last night....though some might question whether it was prudent to leave a place where it was a sunny 57 degrees yesterday morning, to a town in a muggy, smoggy river valley where temperatures read 95 degrees on our car thermometer as we slogged through a post midnight traffic jam last night on our way home.

Why bother? Was it beecause as Surly teen number 2 said: "I miss my stuff." Or was it because our employers were about to empty our offices and ask us where they should send our stuff?

Regardless, Slave is far too exhausted and pressed for time to do a proper blog for you this morning.

Thanks to those commentators yesterday who were worrying about Slave's "denial" when we were so rudely interrupted in the hot springs yesterday. Not to worry. Slave was duly allowed to take his pleasure from Mistress Monday evening, after teens were fed and we watched a grand lipstick sunset.

And I also enjoyed her favor yesterday morning, before our bike ride and packing off to the airport for the long trip home.

Now it's my abstinence day. Mistress has resolved to resist my horny importunings this evening as she tightens the collar, metaphorically speaking. I will report back and let you know what happens,

But for those of you who believe that a picture is worth a thousand words (and I know you are out there) I am throwing in two to make up for my brevity. One with Mistress heading down to our little private paradise on Monday. Another with her wading into that cool and free flowing river.