New Marketing Opportunity?

The other day over at Finding My Submission , Sin posted a helpful blog in response to a reader's question about what type of nipple clamps are on the market and the various advantages (or would that really be disadvantages) the competing options present. She gave us a tour through the various styles of products on the market with handy pointers on the types and quality of pain they can inflict.

(Funny, the only reader questions I ever seem to get are of the "why aren't you in the cage today, Mick?" variety, but I digress).

Of course, Sin does appear to be an expert on the subject since her "Big Bad" Dom seems to require her to submit to various forms of nipple torture in the most unusual of settings - parking lots, lady's rooms, the office, grocery store, etc. He really is a sadistic sombitch it seems, but then an interesting, long running  blog probably requires one or two characters like that to sustain the entertainment value and melodrama.

But Sin's post gave me one of those bright ideas for expanding the UCTMW media empire which I simply had to share.

What about a sex paraphenalia shopping channel on cable, designed for the folks like Sin's questioning reader who want the skinny on what's on the market and have a credit card handy to call the number on the bottom of the screen and make that impulse buy. We'd be spreading joy and collecting cash at the same time!

Sin could be available to display and demonstrate the proper application of nipple clamps, either in the studio, or from some of those remote locations she blogs about. Maybe one where she is shoveling snow, or making breakfast for her kids while "secretly" clamped.... the secret known only to the studio audience (of course you need one of those, with slack jawed ex-urbanites who clap like seals whenever the floor manager gives the signal).

Suzanne and Tammy over at All Mine would certainly be helpful in demonstrating the various products on the market for the proper "pegging" of a submissive.... from strap on starter kits, to the more complex products on the market. I'm sure we'd all like to get a look at "Big Blackie" in action. And they could give pointers from the perspectives of "pegger" and "peggee" on the advantages and disadvantages of the many products available just a phone call away.

Of course, your UCTMW Executive Editor  could offer a line of cock cage products for the discerning Domme concerned about the proper security of her Slave or Sub, ranging from the lighter weight plastic models that can slip through airport or court house security to the sturdier and more compelling steel models. (no live modeling for me of course... we need to keep this classy!)

"Nothing says "your cock belongs to me" like stainless steel, ladies and gentlemen in TV land...."

Our Director of Security, International might peddle a line of floggers, since that seems to be a particularly specialty for him and Donna.

And our Western Correspondent.... well.... Since he buys lubricants by the drum load, maybe he can do a special segment on products available  to avoid abrasions when you masturbate the day away.

HNT / Nail Talk

I'm a guy with four lovely daughters, and a very sexy and stylish wife. Of course, there are benefits, as those of you who are regular readers know.

But sometimes... on occasions when we are all together,  one has to endure dinner conversation that drifts into "girl talk" more often than not.

Like the other night, when we took our cute Co-Eds out for an Indian dinner. Mistress had just gotten a new manicure and everyone had an opinion. At least everyone but me.

"They look a little trashy",  said our younger daughter, who, after a year in Europe, fancies herself as Oh so sophisticated and continental.

The older daughter, who is more the midwestern sorority girl, with much less pretension and more generosity of spirit, was more supportive.... "they're OK.... if kind of bright."

In her own defense, Mistress argued that they were "festive", fit for the holidays.

Of course, she then put me on the spot.  I tried to demur, not feeling truly qualified to express an opinion on the subject. But "no comment" was not acceptable.

"I don't think they're trashy .... trashy would be fake long ones.... or maybe reindeer painted on your nails...."

You know, something Ellie Mae Clampett would come home with.

Fortunately the Nan showed up at the table, and the subject changed.  But what do you think, dear readers?

 I found this old picture that has just about the same nail color Mistress is now sporting:

A Switchy Father's Day

Here at the World HQ, Slave woke with those red marks on my ass all faded. Mistress and our remaining sullen teen (the other one was still up North with the boyfriend and his family), had plans to take me out to brunch at a local restaurant.

But Mistress had a little “payback” in store.

After we read the morning paper for a while, and she perused our blog with my tongue and lips nipping at her delicious folds, it was time to get down to business.

The red cuffs went on those slim and sexy wrists. Don’t you like the way the cuffs match her scarlet nail polish?

And once her arms were secured overhead on our bed, her lush body all exposed and nakers, I tied her ankles off with those long soft strips that are the remains of a cotton beach towel. Soft but secure.

Of course, with her lashed down, spread eagle style on our bed, I wouldn’t be able to match those red marks she had left on my bottom, as Sin and Donna speculated I might.

But there were other tools and torments available.

After some teasing, and kissing, and probing between her legs with my hungry “work-a-day” cock, I reached into the drawer next to the bed….

“Oh…. Not those clothespins, Slave….”

“Why not, Mistress… you gave me a good thwacking yesterday…”

“But you deserved it…”

“True, Mistress…. But still, you wouldn’t want me to go too easy on you….”

“But they hurt so much….”

“Somehow you managed over in Europe, masturbating away with them on, when you lost the coin toss with M….”

(She still owes us a narrative on that, doesn’t she, audience?)

“Yes…. But…. I could adjust that… they were looser….”

So somehow, when she put them on herself, it seemed more “manageable” than when she is helpless, and knows they come off only when I decide. Interesting. Any thoughts on that Sub-sisters?

In any event, I really hadn’t planned on the clothespins.

No, I was reaching for those black “nipple vices”, which can be adjusted as you play to tighten or loosen.

She was still not “thrilled”. At least as far as I could tell as I primed her little red buds with my lips and teeth, until they were plump and firm, ready for me to literally “turn the screws” on them.

Don’t they look charming?

Mistress whined a bit, but they didn’t seem too painful.

And of course by now I was distracting her with her favorite toy: the Hitachi magic wand, which I pulled from under our bed, and slid between those outstretched legs.

Her inner thighs and belly got a little attention, but soon enough the churning bulb of the power tool was pressed firmly against those lovely clean shaven parts, and mistress hips were rising up to meet it.

I kissed her a bit, but things quickly got out of control. Mistress’s hips were bucking, and that tell tale convulsion and moan told me that a primary rule of switch day had been violated.

“Uhhh…. Did you forget something, Mistress?”

“Ooops…. Sorry, Slave…. I forgot to ask permission….”

I contemplated the consequences…. instinctively tightening the screws on those little breast pincers as she winced and moaned a bit, the Hitachi still gently resting at the juncture of her thighs.

“Well, Mistress, I was going to take these off when you came, but since you violated our protocol, we will have to start all over again….”

I’d make a really tough “master” wouldn’t I?

I went back to work with the power tool. Mistress went back to work, squirming and moaning and acting all helplessly wanton.

Soon she was asking for permission…. And with only a little theatrical hesitation, I rolled over and said what she wanted to ehar.

“Yes, Mistress…. You may come….”

And she did, writhing, moaning, thrashing about as best as her restraints would accommodate.

And damned if I didn’t keep that tool in the “on” position after that, forcing yet another cum from her, until little beads of perspiration were popping up on her lovely forehead, and she was now begging me -

“Oh, God… enough…Slave,,, please fuck me now.”

“If you insist, Mistress.”

As you can see…. I am quite the pushover, particularly on Father’s Day.

Hope all you Fathers out there had a great one too!

A Busy Switch Day for Mistress

Sunday was our last full day here at our little hideaway, and also the end of the ski season at our beloved Mountain. The wind was howling most of the day, some strange front blowing in form the west, which shortened the time we spent on the slopes, but also gave Molly and Mick a little more leisure time for what we also enjoy doing behind the closed door of our room here.

While my bottom still had a little left over glow from the evening before, I knew I would be letting Mistress down if I did not exercise my switch privileges. I suspect that she looks forward to those occasions when she no longer has to “take charge”, and likes to see me put some additional energy into creating the scenarios that leave her “helpless” to avoid whatever I may have in store for her.

So I was determined not to let her down, even though she did sleep in a little later than normal Sunday morning.

After drinking her coffee and checking a few of your blogs – I think she particularly enjoyed  Suzanne’s description of getting attention first from Jay and then from Tammy early on their Sunday morning back east – Mistress knew her time had come when I began hauling some rope and other items from out little toy drawer.

She co-operated nicely as her hands were secured to the ring bolts at opposite sides of our bed, so they were spread wide, on her back for ready access.

Then I improvised a spreader bar from a handy ski pole and ski pass lanyards, necessity being the mother of invention, so that her legs were also spread, if not as rigorously as her arms.

Now she was mine….

I spent some time gnawing on her lovely nipples, making them firm, and also making Mistress squirm a bit against her restraints.

I straddled her then, feeding her my cock, which she took to with very pleasurable gusto, until it was firm and bouncing out between the folds of my navy robe. It made a nice popping sound when I finally pulled it out.

“Nice Mistress, you do that well with no hands…. But Maybe I should go make myself some breakfast now, …let you languish a bit.”

“Don’t you dare, Slave… what if one of the girls decides to walk in here looking for something….”

“I suppose that would be a problem for you….”

Of course, I had no plan to go too far. Instead, I reached for the nipple clamp I had tucked into my robe pocket….

“Ohhh …. Noooo ….. I hate those……”

She really does hate them, particularly when I first attach them. But her nipples were so firm and inviting. And once the little sucker was adjusted and firmly attached it seemed the pain was tolerable for her.

That’s when I reached for the Hitachi, all plugged in and ready to go next to our bed. I suspect the sound of her favorite power tool distracted her from the ouch of her nipple. She knew that relief was in sight. And her squirms began almost reflexively, even before it was applied to the right spot.

She moaned with gratification when I slid it against those already glistening folds, all nicely clean shave. But almost instantly there was this little rush of breath and convulsion….

I immediately pulled the tool away, and tutted in my sternest voice ….

“What was that……”

She seemed genuinely embarrassed…..

“It was just a little mini-one Slave, I guess I just was too excited….”

“Bad girl …. You must like that nipple clamp more than you let on….”

“Noooo…. It’s not the clamp…. But everything else…”

“Right, I will file that away….now remember, you need permission for the next one….”

I slowly ran the Hitachi back up the inside of her leg, made her squirm a bit to force her parts against it. And soon she was pumping her hips for all they were worth for the right contact… and begging me properly for permission.

As I said, “OK, Mistress, you may come”, her body exploded against the churning device, a long gasp coming from her lungs, and I reached for her nipple clamp to pop it loose. If the other one had been a “mini”, this was more of a “maxi”.

But I wasn’t done with her just yet. I gave her a brief respite, then pressed it home one more time, and she built herself to a final writhing cum – with permission of course – before begging me to turn it off.

“Ohhh….. now it’s really sensitive, Slave.”

I took that cue to switch off the tool, let her catch her breath, and unlashed her legs from the ski pole, before taking her the more traditional way, her legs still bound to the bed, at my mercy.

And my reward was well with the wait, and the choreography.

After that it was back to parenting, taking the kids up the mountain for a few final runs of our season, and what may be the last of about 14 years together here for “spring break”. It was a nice run, starting with them as little ski tots, to the surly teens that they have become, one headed to college next year, and another to study abroad. But somehow I think Molly and Mick can make our own fun together next season.

Now this is where our Sunday stories usually end, but, as they say in the infomercials… “there’s more.”

M and Molly had not had much time to talk this weekend. We were with the kids, and he was celebrating his birthday with his own extended family about 250 miles to the north of us here.

It was about 7:15 pm. We were relaxing, reading after taking the kids to the movies. It was about time for Slave to make some dinner for us. Then Mistress’s text message went off.

“It’s M, Slave… he wants to know if I can talk….”

“Of course you can, Mistress….. I will get dinner started.”

So I was up and out of the room, and Mistress was left in bed….

I was whipping up a polenta and chicken combination when the door opened about 10 minutes later.

Mistress slid up against me and whispered in my ear.

“he wants to have a little date, Slave…. Is that OK”.

“Of course, this will take a bit longer, Mistress… go for it.”

I had the TV turned on to mask any moans of delight from curios teens – or me for that matter – and Mistress slid back into our room to do her thing.

Time passed. Maybe 30 minutes. Dinner was just about ready. I did not want to disturb her, but I knew the girls were expecting to be fed at some point. So I discretely tapped on her door.

“Yes….”

I sensed a little annoyance at the interruption. But opened to door a crack, curious as I was….

Mistress was still in bed, under the covers, looking flushed as she turned to look at me. I could not tell if her little tool was out and in use.

“Uhhh…. Sorry to interrupt, but dinner is ready, Mistress.”

“Give me ten more minutes, Slave.”

“Of course…..”

So I put dinner on simmer, sat and enjoyed part of a thrilling NCAA women’s basketball game, and waited until Mistress’s “training session” was completed.

And sure enough about 10 minutes later, she emerged, looking happy and energized, almost like a regular work out.

“How many, Mistress…..”

“Three Slave…. He had me do two, and I thought we were done …. But then he insisted on one more….”

“Aww,… poor Mistress.”

So our readers will be happy to know that Mistress had a full switch day, with attention from both of her men before the day was done.

Well, I better think about waking her now. We have a long trip back to River City today, and a few things to take care of before we hit the road.

From Our Senior Correspondent... A Few of their Favorite Things

 (Mick recommends the following musical accompaniement. )

A couple of days ago when I knew I would be filling in for Mick while he recovers from the annual salute to his ancestral roots, I suggested to Bill that we share with you a few things that really get our motors started. We decided to leave my red bottom and his mighty swing arm off the list because you already know how important that is to us. The choices were tough but eventually Bill chose my clamped boobs and I chose his love notes. Oral sex was the big winner for us both.  

Bill’s Choice – Clamped Nipples

Bill prefers boobs to be large and for the nipples to be clamped. He thinks of breasts as one of the perfect sex toys of the human body for both giving and receiving pleasure.

My blue-gray top in the picture is one of Bill’s favorites to ramp up a bit of sexy nipple play. Just today he dropped his voice into that low and slow Dom range and ordered me to get the top from my dresser and take it to him. He held it up for me to slip my arms into and then told me to hold still while he laced it up, positioning my breasts just where he wanted them. After admiring the lacy texture with his tongue and using the pads of his thumbs to rub the damp lace over my nipples so they would stand up proudly, he told me to clasp my arms over my head. He leaned forward, grabbing the ribbon bow in his teeth. As he pulled his head back, the ribbons holding the front of the shirt closed loosened bit by bit until my right breast came tumbling out.

His lips were ready and waiting to draw my nipple and some of the surrounding breast tissue into his warm, moist mouth. He gave me a good solid sucking and tongue flicking, adding a bit of tooth and then quickly snapped on a nipple clamp -which I can only assume he had hidden in his jeans pocket- then he sweetly used his tongue to soothe and ease the sharp sting of the clamp. His head leaned forward again as he used his nose to push back the lace still covering my left breast. As my breast slipped out from the fabric, equal attention was paid to that nipple with sucking, tonguing and biting followed by a quick clamping.  Ouch! A good ouch that makes me moan and drip, making both of us anxious for further play.

Donna’s Choice - Love Notes

Bill’s love notes have always been a huge turn-on for me. I have a wonderful notebook he put together for me titled “Why I Think the Way I Think About You”.  It is a collection of handwritten and typed pages as well as page after page of pictures that he compiled for me when he had to be away for six long months. I also have pages and pages of letters that he writes for me about everything from the specific words he wants to hear me add to our playtime to instructions about choosing bras and panties that will please him. But, the really unusual notes he has given me are the instruction strips and my set of “Getting Down to Business” cards.

The instruction strips are kept in a bag in a bedside table. Every once in a while Bill will order me to reach into the bag and draw a strip of paper.  I know we will be following the directions exactly. Here are a couple of samples: I will lie back on the bed. You will crawl between my legs and begin by rubbing your boobs over and around my balls and cock. When I tap your head you will move further down and lick and suck my cock. After I cum, you will scoot up, straddling my face while I make you climax at least two times. Here’s another: You will lie on your back with your head off the edge of the bed. I will stand with my balls over your face. I will lean over and use the Hitachi on your pussy while you lick and suck my balls.

The “Getting Down to Business” cards are things he wants me to ask or beg him for. For example: ”I want a butt plug and a spanking, please Sir.” Or ”I’ve been a bad girl. Spank me, finger me, then cum on my pink bottom, please Sir.” From time to time Bill will leave one taped to the bathroom mirror or leaning on my laptop keyboard and I know that sometime that day I must say those words and he will follow through.

Oral Sex-That All Occasion Dance of Joy

I suspect that when my Home Economics teacher from high school lectured my class on the importance of developing shared interests with one’s spouse, she was thinking along the lines of cooking or tennis rather than oral sex. But, like any decent student, I drew the pertinent information from her lecture and applied it to my life.  For me the concepts that stood out were sharing, eating, and playing with balls,  and I have applied those lessons well! Oral sex is such a versatile endeavor and one of our all time favorites! Bill is quite fond of me giving him some oral attention on long car trips just to keep things from getting boring as he drives along. He particularly enjoys cranking up his Smooth Jazz Radio or the Jimmy Buffett channel while I pay homage to his very special equipment. Back at home, every once in a while I buy a box of flavored condoms to add some zip to the lick. Banana and pina colada are my personal favorites, and Bill’s rule is that the condom must be rolled onto his penis using only my mouth, no hands...alas, what a hardship. One time I tried those mints that are strong enough to give a little electric shock to the head of the penis. That mistake hasn’t been repeated and Bill made sure I learned the lesson that anything new touching his penis requires prior approval.  It’s all good.

Yesterday morning I found a note under my coffee mug that combined all of these favorites. It was a simple note that said: Crotchless Red Panties. Red Boa.  Paddle. Now.

Any guesses as to what was on his mind? How great is that!

Mistress Meets Some New Toys.

Molly and Mick were out rather late Saturday night, listening to a local band with some friends at a funky old road house. There was dancing and drinking and great people watching.

So when we woke a bit groggily Sunday morning, with big plans for the 4^th, Mistress seemed to think that my switch privileges would slip my mind. 

Think again, Mistress.

After I made us  lattes and let her read yesterday’s entry, I told her to gird herself for an hour or so as my little subbie. She whined a bit, but was a good sport as I locked the red cuffs on her, then tied her hands to opposite corners of the bed, face up. Some leather cuffs joined her ankles closely together.

I kissed her a bit, fondling her lovely breasts, making her all nice and squrimy. Then excused myself from the room to retrieve some items recently ordered from Amazon, with guidance from SFP, our blogger colleague from Peacefully Submissive.

“Where are you going, Slave?”

“Back in a moment, Mistress.”

Mistress became both animated and vocal when I returned a moment later to show her our new toys: two nipple clamps that operate like little vices, as they screw down onto their targets.

“Oh, no you, don’t Slave…..”

“Oh, yes, Mistress….remember our rules. Sunday you are mine…..”

Our previous experiment with clamps a few months back had not gone well. The devices we tried were either too loose, and would fall off, or too tight, and would be simply too painful for my beloved Mistress. I was hoping these new little pinchers would solve the problem.

It took a cube of ice to help make Mistress’s nipples sufficiently firm and perky. Thankfully I had tied her down well, because she made every effort to avoid the inevitable, squirming away, accusing me of the most vile betrayal. (I suppose a gag would have helped. Maybe next time.)

But with my leg pressing against her hips to help keep her still, I was able to screw one clamp then the other on effectively. And they stayed on without producing tears or too much pain.

When I was done, I used the melting cube of ice to tease Mistress’s cunt a bit. She squirmed and yelped a bit more as the cold surface met her toasty clit.

But when I raised the swiftly melting cube to my lips, I was delighted by the musky taste of her arousal.

“Wow, very nice, Mistress. Tastes great. You must be pretty turned on. We could market this as a cunt-cicle.”

Mistress seemed to miss the humour.

“How are the clips, Mistress?”, I asked, hoping they were not too intolerable.

“ummmm…interesting, Slave.”

I took that as a sign that the experiment had been successful so far. Then pushed onto the next stage of our morning’s activities.

“Let’s see if they stay on as we get a bit more... physical, Mistress.”

She just gave me a withering look.

“Mistress, I want you to imagine that M decided to abandon his resolve for a day and pop down for a visit. I’ve prepared you for him, and just now he’s pulling into the driveway and is about to meet you in the flesh  for the first time.”

“mmmmm ….. OK, Slave.”

My fingers were sliding through her naked lips, making her cunt rise to meet them. A tongue just touched the tip of her left nipple where it poked through the little plastic vice. She screwed shut her eyes, making interesting sounds. Was it pain, or pleasure? Either way, I liked the result.

“How would it feel to meet him for the first time like this, all naked and restrained  and so very vulnerable?”

“It would be embarrassing….humiliating, Slave.”

“Exactly.”

The Hitachi was on hand and I flipped it on.

“And what if he ordered you to order me to lock on my cage then, so his would be the only cock available to you for the duration….would you follow his order, Mistress?”

She moaned a bit as I pressed the little churning bulb between her bound legs.

“I suppose I would have to, Slave.”

We went on with the fantasy as I used the device on her to build her just to the brink of an explosive orgasm, with me teasing her out, moving the machine on and off the parts that would take her over the edge. It makes her so wonderfully desperate.

But then I remembered something, and switched the power tool off.

“Hey….what are you doing, Slave?”

She was more than a little miffed.

“Getting the camera, Mistress. I suspect M and the rest of our readers will want to see what these new clips look like.”

A groan of frustration was heard as I stepped out of the room. But soon I was back, and snapped the photo above.

These clips are keepers. (Just hope Mistress does not try to experiment with these on me.)

“Now, where were we, Mistress?”

I started from scratch. Our guests would not be arriving for 3 hours or so.

So there was more kissing, stroking, and then more Hitachi. This time I was not cruel, but enjoyed making Mistress go over the top with lots of moaning and gyrating enthusiasm.

And then she got my desperately hard cock, still bound by her arms to the bed. All in all she seemed to relish a Switch morning that she had probably hoped to avoid.

And when I released the clips, her nipples were still intact.

“So how were they Mistress?”

“Not terrible, Slave….,” she admitted grudgingly.

Actually, I think they will grow on her. I am already thinking of new ways to use them. It’s a shame we have to wait until Sunday.

Getting By With a Little Help from (New) Friends

Dear Mistress,

It was a cold but happy Christmas here in our undisclosed location. It was a special pleasure to exchange gifts with the fire blazing; to ski with the girls in the numbing cold; then to come back here for lunch and some extended rest time, the obligatory calls to family done, and a few hours to spare before heading to dinner with our amigos from Texas.

In no rush, we napped and read and napped some more, before we turned to enjoy one another’s bodies. I offered to worship you on my knees, but that would have required to pull back the covers, and Mistress was still a little chilled from the near zero temperatures. Instead we got into a clench, legs intertwined, with my hand sliding between your thighs. As we kissed, by fingers worked you there until you came with a murmur and groan, muffled as your face was buried into my neck.

I was more than ready by then, and asked permission to fuck you then and there. But you wanted to toy with me first, and you used your fingers, then your mouth to tease me to an even firmer state. Somehow, in this process you rotated to a position on your stomach (or did I prod you there?), and I used my hand to massage your tight bottom for a while before asking for the right to enter you that way.

This is something that seems to be an increasing part of our sexual escapades, Mistress. And also something that casts your Slave in a more Dom-ish role. As I slid into you, I asked you to speculate that a Dom who might exercise ownership rights over you someday would limit your right to enjoy this particular sex act with your lowly Slave. Rules are rules after all, and it’s always possible that your limited rights would NOT include sex from behind with anyone BUT a Master. My point:  we had better enjoy these opportunities while we can. And we did, as you came with a gasp, pressing your ass back into me, your head buried in your arms. You came one more time after I had first eased back, then increased my pace as I pumped into you.

It’s harder for me to come that way, but I was oh so close … just on the edge. Ultimately, I gave up, sensitive to abusing your tender back muscles. I slid from you and rolled you over. Your face was wet with tears as you begged me to fuck you. (Yes, it was Mistress who was begging. Nice.) I was anxious to oblige, and soon was back inside you, pumping with a desperation that soon had me begging and crossing over that edge once you granted permission.

That evening we had Christmas dinner with some  our  Texas friends and their extended family. I tried my best to be attentive in the crowd, though the opportunity to serve you sexually did not arise. By the time the evening was done we were ready for sleep.

_____________________________________________________________________________

When I woke on the 26^th, I had some work to attend to, so my homework was an “incomplete”. (I hate to leave you or our readers without reading material, and was fortunate I was not punished).

You called me to bed as I was typing away on the first part of this entry, and I apologized for my late work product. You were  understanding, and soon we were kissing, fucking and coming in the relaxed but satisfying way like the old married couple that we are.

When we were through taking our pleasure from one another I switched to the task of rearranging travel plans for a surly teen’s boy friend.  When I finally finished my delicate negotiations with Delta, an angrily awakened surly teen, and her boyfriend, I turned to find you reading through ‘Nilla’s 2^nd installment of her story loosely based on our adventures.

You casually commented that we should be in no rush to hit the slopes in the 4 degree weather this am. Obviously, ‘Nilla’s crafty storytelling has more than replaced my missing homework when it came to reigniting Mistress’s desire.

Her story features some cruel nipple clamping on the Mistress turned Sub, which gave me a good excuse to pull out a Christmas present for you that I did not have you open in front of the girls.

This was an experiment you had been dreading. But we owed it to Science to try these out on your little pink darlings.  I sucked gently on your left nipple until it was nice and firm. I attempted to adjust the clamps until they were not at “full pinch”. But the problem was that as so adjusted they would not hold on, but simply slid off after a little pinch was delivered.

Re-grouping, I eliminated the “cushion” and tried the clip at full strength on you. That was a success, in that the clip did not just pop off. But the tight clamp seemed very painful to Mistress. This did not make me a popular Slave, and the clamp was quickly removed.

You then tried one on my tiny little nipples. Pain. Shooting all through my body like a lightening bolt. But yes, erotic. Again, the clamp quickly was removed, as the pain seemed to exceed any erotic benefit (to me, at least). 

Lessons learned:  1) need smaller/ different clamps; 2) subject must be tied down when application occurs; 3) gag a necessity if teens are in the house. (Look forward to any recommendations our readers might have on this subject).

While this effort was less than a successful experiment, it did get our juices flowing again, only about an hour after our last encounter. So credit to ‘Nilla for her inspiration of round two of our day.

After a somewhat shorter but invigorating ski day, we returned home for our afternoon rest period. Settling into bed with some hot green tea we indulged ourselves with some reading and a nap. Before I dozed off, the sun was illuminating the mountains visible through our bedroom window. But when I finally stirred again, the snow dappled mountains were long past their alpen glow, and were dimly lit by the half moon above.

Before we went to sleep we read over a stunning tale sent via email that morning from a new correspondent to our north, a man who had finally submitted to his wife after some years of taking the upper hand. He wrote about a particular exploit from his youth, as he dominated another man’s wife at a disco.

His story resonated with you and your slave, and as we woke from our nap and turned to one another, his e-mail became an inspiration for some murmured encouragements and speculations about you coming under the spell of a would be Dom later that evening when we listened to a local rocker at a raucous Cantina. We were still groggy from our nap,  but you seemed a woman possessed as you sucked my cock until it was too hard for me to bear any longer. By then I was the Slave possessed, fucking you with a  frenzy, as I imagined how you would respond to the type of nightclub overture our new friend had described.

So yesterday we did get assists from our friends to compensate for my delayed homework. It’s good to have them along for the ride. And nice to think maybe we are sparking their imaginations too.

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