Showing posts with label bath tub. Show all posts
Showing posts with label bath tub. Show all posts

Wednesday, May 18, 2011

Science Wednesday


We’ve had a very strange weather pattern here in River City these last few days. The best I can describe it as is Irish Weather. Gloomy. Rainy. Colder than normal for these parts. Last week we were in the 80’s here. This week, the temperature range has been from 45 to about 55.  Just plain yuck.
Mistress had planned for us to go on a bike ride after work yesterday afternoon, but the damp, cold and gloom had gotten to her. So when she strode into my building lobby, ready to head home at around 5:30 or so last evening, she had other plans.
“Slave, I told M that I am going to take a hot bath when we get home. You will serve me a glass of Tequilla in the tub. And we will take a picture to send him.”
“Sounds like a plan, Mistress.”
I wasn’t too thrilled about a damp, bone chilling bike ride myself.

So there we were, back at home. Mistress was quick to shed her short black dress (no tights or pants again today, she’s trying to pretend it’s actually summer despite the weather), and begin running her bath.

I had my orders: I poured her a tequila on ice. For me, some Jamieson neat to cut the chill.
The sullen teens were barely noticing this change of plans. Though one of them commented on the beverages in her wise ass way.
“Isn’t it a little early for that?”
She gave me a look like I was Don Draper, pouring my 5th martini of the day, just after lunch time.
“Your Mother had a busy day, and now needs to chill…..”
Nothing like judgmental teens.
By now Mistress was settled into her tub, bubbles oozing around her.

“Get my camera, Slave….I promised M a picture.”
I dutifully retrieved her I-phone, and gave her some staging directions as she wriggled into the warm frothy tub. I snapped some for M, and then a few on my own camera for her inspection later, and maybe to share with you should they meet her very high standards.
After that, she climbed from her tub, wrapped herself in a towel and we retreated to our bed, for a little pre-diner R & R.

“Let me know when you are ready for worship, Mistress….”

“In a few, Slave….”
She studied a few of the shots I had taken, then texted one photo off to M, who responded in a few moments.
“’ Sexy Lady’, he says, Slave.”
“He’s right about that, Mistress.”
She reviewed all of your comments, made one of her own, then indicated the time had come to be pleasured.
I leaned over her, my mouth dipping into her warm and freshly scrubbed folds, but she had something else in mind.
“You get a much better angle on your knees, Slave.”
Of course, Mistress is always right.


One thing about our Senior Correspondent Donna, (unlike some of our other correspondents, I might add) is that she takes the initiative to find interesting stories to share with our curious readers. Take for example, this bit of science on the value of a substance that some of us may take for granted, which follows some of her observations about why Mistress’s lovely nipples were so challenged by the clothespins in that “on all fours” position on Sunday.


I tried to word my comments about our CEO and the clothespins carefully, hoping to avoid offending any of our small breasted readers, but really, you can tell from the lovely photo that there is significant pressure being exerted by Molly's breast tissue. If it doesn't hurt more when in that position rather than others, then either there isn't much breast tissue to add pressure or there is a surplus of silicone blocking nerve endings. Being a non-siliconed D cup, I can vouch for that!

The study I have added below is actually from 2002, but didn't get much press at the time. My guess is that it would have cut down on sales of both Prozac and condoms. I am quite disappointed that oral consumption of semen and anal sex were not included as part of this study. Talk about incomplete. Maybe we can round out the study within our little group. I think we could get volunteers, don't you? Except for the control group...none of our friends would want to be in the no sex group! Oh well, another good idea down the drain
(following is a quote from the story with a link below)


Semen carries with it more than just sperm; it’s a whole cocktail of substances, out of which some have the potential to alleviate depression in women – estrogen, prostaglandins and oxytocin. The first two were already known to somewhat lower depression, but oxytocin is way more powerful; it shows up at birth or during breastfeeding, making women more happy, less in pain, and way more likely to bond with others.
The study confirmed that the semen is genetically built to work in man’s favour – thanks to those hormones, the female has a stronger bond with him, feels more satisfied, and is way less depressed; thus, the male has already increased the chances of another “bonding”, thus also increasing the chances to reproduce, which is what your body wants, basically.
Interestingly enough, the research also concluded that in terms of depression, there is pretty much no difference between condom users and abstrainers, so the act of sex itself does no good against depression. Even though, of course, safe sex is always recommended, from this point of view, it is recommended to have sex without a condom. Go figure…

Does Semen Have Antidepressant Properties?


Of course, this got us thinking about Tammy, over at ALL Mine. Suzanne’s “wife” has been getting some extra semen dosages from clean up and other duties of late. Suzanne, can you tell if it is having apositive mood enhancement effect?