Father's Day FemDom

Here at our SW Hideaway we celebrated Father's Day one day early.  There was our typically satisfying wake-up sex, and a promise of more to come.

"Slave, I'm using my strap-on this afternoon.  So save your energy....."

In truth it was a relatively relaxing day.  A trip to the farmer's market. Lunch and reading out on our patio. And then a late afternoon nap.

When we woke at around 5:30 pm, Mistress was prepared to deliver on her promise.

"Get my supplies, slave...."

I rounded up her harness and it's phallic accessory. And some lube, of course.

Mistress found the riding crop on her own.  Although she had some hesitancy coming up with suitable grounds for punishment.....

"Hmmmm..... let's go over the rules while I'm away, slave....."

Slap.  Ouch.

"Uhhhh...... I wear the cage when I go out, Mistress......"

Slap. Ouch.

"That's right.....and what else?"

"And I masturbate once a day and  send a photo to you on snap-chat...."

"That's right."

Slap. Ouch.

"And what if some woman comes onto you, slave?"

"No sex with them Mistress....but if I'm n my cage, is it ok for me to use my tongue on them?"

This little provocation on my part was probably inspired by what I read yesterday over at "A Married Sissy".  It seems that Terri has been allowed to add a little oral devotion to his Saturday afternoon ritual of tending to the nails of his wife Diane's pal Linda.  Though it sounds as if the cage stays on throughout.

But my cheeky response  earned me a volley of blows from Mistress with her crop that had slave cringing and squirming.  I guess she didn't realize I was joking?

After making it clear that I had no Terri-like license to please any other woman, Mistress put down the crop and got down to business. I was on my tummy, a pillow under me to make my ass "rise to the occasion".  Her aim was true and soon she was thrusting with mucho gusto filling me and ascending to a rather dramatic cum of her own.

Once she was done with her "hubby invasion" I was allowed to satisfy her one more time with my tongue before exercising my "all access pass" to her clean shaven folds.  And as we were engaging in a more traditional form of love making I asked her a question that came to mind whilst she was deploying her faux phallus.

"Does your new friend know that you fuck me in the ass, Mistress?"

"I've discussed it with him, slave.  He asked and I told him that 'of course I do'.....He says he wants to watch me do it to you......"

"What do you think about that, Mistress?"

"It might be good for you, slave....."

Well that would be interesting.  Have any of our readers been exposed to that sort of experience?

In any event, Mistress assured that her slave had a very sexy Father's Day, with more to come today.

And I want to wish a pleasant father's day to those of you out there who read our blog. On the other hand, there are some creepy dads who come to mind that I am less enthusiastic about.  I'm thinking of Trump attorney Michael Cohen, who recently tweeted to the world this photo of his Ivy League daughter that he must have found while trolling through her Instagram account.





Lesson One: Sure your daughter may be hot. But good Dads don't use sexy images of their kin to help build their twitter account followers.

Lesson Two: Never get caught rebroadcasting photos from your daughter's Instagram account.

But maybe we expect too much from Mr. Cohen.  Think of who he hangs with:

Corporate Junkets

Suzanne's description over at All Mine of the "corporate retreat" where she convened with her entire "staff" left Mistress and Slave a little envious.  Over the years, we've talked about getting our staff together out in our mountain hideaway in the Southwest  for some "team building" exercises. But no matter how hard Mistress tried to make it worth our Western Correspondent's while to take the drive down from our Western field office, it just was not to be.

Of course, we have been able to meet up with Donna and Bill, our Senior Correspondent and Director of Security once here at the UCTMW World HQ. Hopefully someday we will be able to stop by to see them down in the Smokies.

As for the All Mine staff's little corporate junket, the descriptions and accounts reminded Slave of a place he went in New England as a child, when the family tagged along for my father's own corporate junkets back in the Mad Men era of the late 1950's and very early 60's. (I just know it was before the first Kennedy Assassination, a historical marker in my life, like so many other peoples' lives who were around in that decade).

It was a grand old hotel, only open in the summer in those days, with cavernous public rooms, a huge (but cold) swimming pool, and "activities" for the kids while the parents were otherwise engaged drinking Manhattans and smoking large quantities of cigarettes. I can recall roaming the halls with my brother, seeing if there was trouble we could get into and avoiding taking care of our whiny little sisters.

It would be nice to go back there again sometime if the All Mine staff ever wanted to do a little mutual team building.... after all why shut the door on a potential leveraged corporate consolidation at some point down the road.

Our "cultures" seem compatible. Certainly there would be the potential for synergy. Suzanne could teach Mistress a thing or two about how to get the most out of her Slaves, and Mistress could coach Suzanne on the art of "pampering".

And since Mistress has a bit of a submissive streak that too frequently goes untended (other than on Switch Day), I suspect that there could be some opportunity for her to do a little "fluffing" if she plays her cards right.  Who knows, maybe Suzanne might find another use for her mighty strap-on.

At worst, Slave could be a useful Sherpa in the event there is another mountain to climb. And Mistress could deploy her "facilitation" skills.

Who knows, maybe there is some Venture Capitalist willing to fund this potential merger, take us public, and create Cayman based IRA's for all of us to retire in style someday.

Molly, Mick, Francois and Didi

Mick is a little bleary eyed this morning.

I'm the sort who's body clock wakes me at the same time every morning. and it was sometime after 2:45 am when home cumming weekend post game festivities wrapped up here at the UCTMW World HQ. 

And of course, there is no way I can do the evening justice in a bleary eyed, Sunday morning post.

I mean, if I started at the restaurant, where Molly, Mick and Francois met Didi (sorry Babette, you blew it!), and she  went to the ladies room to don the matching butterfly vibrator Francois handed her, then I'd be here all day filling in the details of our evening and I'd miss my chance for some post orgy wake-up sex with Mistress.

So instead I thought I'd toss you a photo montage from our post meal "gathering" here at the World HQ, and let the pictures speak for themselves.... more details later dearest followers!

Here's Mistress, warming up for things to come.

Of course, it was my task to make sure Mistress, and later Didi, were sufficiently preped for Francois's pleasure. and give Francois credit for multi-tasking, knowing even when his own cock is being "fluffed" by Didi, that Mistress is on the verge and needs his iconic direction of "Now, Now, Now" before she is allowed to come from the ministrations of her Slave's well practiced tongue.

As for Didi, well, she is quite the specimen. Funny, informed, and very very strong. I'm still wondering, how did Francois find a former body builder who could bench press three three of us all at once?  Obviously, the puny sports wrap he had brought could not hold her.

Indeed, for someone who claimed that she was interesting in playing the submissive, it wasn't long before she seemed to be in charge of the evening's proceedings.

I was happy to be a role player: doing my best to worship both of the lovely women. But I found that with my head buried between thighs. and lavishing attention on clean shaven cunts, I missed some of the action unfolding around me.

 I heard exclamations about hot wa on nipples, and ice cubes stuffed up cunts, but have no direct eye witness knowledge to report on.  Next time we may want to attach a small video camera to one of the cats, who both were hovering nearby.  Hopefully they were not traumatized.

At some point, after Mistress mercifully unlocked my cock cage,  I was directed to retrieve the strap on and a selection of dildos. A riding crop too, though Francois ruled that what I came back with was not a crop at all but some sort of dressage whip.

Details, details.

At first it was unclear who would be using the strap on on who.  (Or is it whom?).  I must say I was a little sheepish about being put on display as the receptacle. But things turned out quite well.  Mistress did an excellent job with it on Didi, after we adjourned to a bedroom.

By now it was Didi's birthday, and my switch day. She was treated to quite a nice strap-on fucking by Mistress (I believe it may have been a first for both of them). And to add a little spice, I gave Mistress a nice spanking to help them both get to suitably robust cums. (Now that I think of it, we should have given Didi the birthday spanking too!)

As they cuddled and fondled in bed, Francois and I realized we had become redundant, and adjourned downstairs for some coffee. What a shame there was no billiard room and cigars to end our evening.

When we came back upstairs, Didi was displaying another unique talent (other than the ability to kick all of our asses). She was executing a marvelous massage on Mistress, and soon was spreading the joy to the rest of us.

This morning, as I patrolled the house, I found the detritus of our wild and crazy evening.

The above was on that bedroom floor. and below, on the arm of the living room couch. I wonder if Mistress will remember being flogged on the ass by her Slave as she rode Francois's cock and Didi squeezed her nipples?

(Don't worry, the knives are purely decorative.  No "edge play" allowed at the World HQ!  You have to draw a line somewhere.)

Happy Birthday Didi! Hope we made it a memorable one.

Mistress gets a few in under the wire.

Slave is going to skip over Saturday morning sex…. I don’t want to bore you with too many details today, particularly since Mistress needs to be woken a little earlier than normal to give us proper time to impose the WC’s sentence – 10 rounds of teasing without orgasm -before our vanilla daily schedule kicks in.

So lets pick things up at around 5 pm – after a day of yard work, sunning with the Times (yes, the sun finally came out in River City), and a brisk double loop bike ride in the early summer heat.

Slave was stepping out of the shower…..

“Time to get my equipment out Slave…. you are long overdue for an ass fucking….”

True, it had been awhile. Not since Mistress’s trip to Eastern Europe. That might account for Slave’s occasional lapses into Mr. bossy pants the last few weeks.

“Will do…..”

I gathered up the components of her kit: leather harness; dildo; lube. Then I settled into bed as she took care of a few items.

She’d been texting with the WC… no doubt whining a bit about the “harsh” sentence he had imposed. Mistress does not like teasing and denial, though, you have to admit, darling, its far better than those clothespins… right?

The WC was firm but compassionate.  And no doubt his “sword” of justice will get put to use in his home venue this weekend.

She typed a few more characters, then put down her I-phone.

“I just told M that it’s time to fuck my slave in the ass….”

“I’ll bet he wishes he was on the receiving end, Mistress….”

“I think he might have something else in mind, Slave….”

By now, Mistress had her harness on, the mid-sized dildo in place. She looked very “commanding”, her lovely breasts hanging loose. She coated her tool with some lube and settled into bed next to me….she likes to fondle and kiss a while, making sure my work-a-day cock is already randy even before she begins her assault.

When she was satisfied, and a little randy herself, she rose up.

“Get in position, Slave….”

I did, fitting a pillow under my hips, raising my ass just a bit….then Mistress took over.

Though a few weeks had passed, Mistress’s aim was on the mark. She filled me with her first smooth thrust of her hips. The penetration had Slave quickly into his own little sub-space.

And despite the long bike ride, Mistress seemed particularly energized yesterday afternoon. Her thrusts were firm, swift, and rather effective….It wasn’t long before she was spasming against me, with a rather dramatic, moaning  climax from her exertions.

By now my ass was getting a little tender, and I let it be known that she should feel free to stop at her convenience. (I have a feeling I may hear about that later). She seemed spent herself, so told me to go insert my device and then return to the bed to fuck her properly.

“Of course, Mistress….”

Slave’s attitude properly adjusted, I found my aneros, and used it to replace Mistress’s own “cock”, before returning to the bed to take my own pleasure.

The ultimate result, I must say was impressive….one of those cums that came in a series of waves that seemed to last forever….

It appears that Mistress and Slave do have their rhythm back.

We rested a bit, then ended up watching a movie here… the Pianist, the Polanski film set in Warsaw during WW II. Mistress pointed out sights she had visited only weeks ago.

When we retired to our chambers, I expected we’d be reading a bit before shut-eye. And that’s how things started. But after about 20 minutes or so, Slave had one unexpected request.

“Slave…. I think I may need my Hitachi tonight…”

“Worried that it might be awhile before your next cum, Mistress?”

I was teasing of course. Earlier I had suggested we might want to get a head start on tease and denial, but she was having none of it.

“It’s not Sunday yet, Slave.”

And I knew it would be so very wrong to argue with Mistress.

So I reached under the bed for her trusty Hitachi. Soon she was laying back, that tie-dye nightie pooled at her belly button, as I guided the churning white bulb between those firm thighs.

That sucker does have a rather profound effect, reducing Mistress to a panting, moaning, vibrating little slut in no time.

Of course, she had a rather profound orgasm, in just a few minutes time. And she offered to return the favor.

I demurred. I figured it best to save my energy and juices for this morning’s execution of the WC’s sentence.

Mistress and Slave Celebrate a Three-fer Three Different Ways

Yesterday was a three way celebration for Molly and mick (no, that type of three way, not that we wouldn’t be happy to!)

It was Molly’s birthday, our anniversary, and the day when Slave’s contract rolled over for a full year of subjugation at the hand’s of my Mistress.

And, appropriately enough, it evolved into one of those days when there were three separate sexual escapades to mark the occasions.

The first came early in the morning. Mistress’s sister got a little too earnest in sending a “Happy birthday” text at 6:30 am – waking her from her slumber. It cut into my blogging time, when Mistress called me up to attend to her needs.

So the warm up act was ‘Nilla’s enticing blog continuing her nicely developing fantasy about the adventures of a certain couple at a certain Western Correspondent’s Mountain hideaway.

That was followed by Mistress practicing her oral skills on her “morning penis”. Soon she had me moaning and begging, and begging and moaning before directing me to park my cock to her advantage.

Our plans called for us to head in different directions then: me to collect cute grandson and take him to the market and our swim club; Mistress to hair and nail care errands, then a celebratory lunch with the teens and her mother.

I have been mindful of my contractual obligations, as a result of my recent self evaluation (See Friday’s blog), so I did what was required, without the expectation of an affirmative response:

“Would you like me to wear my cage today, Mistress?”

“Yes, Slave. I think I would.”

Argh.

“Ahhhh….OK, Mistress.”

She was taking no chances that I might exercise my revocation powers on the one day a year when they arise. I was going to be on a short leash.

I found my cage, slid it over my shriveled cock, still a bit pungent from its earlier use, and gave Mistress her opportunity to snap the lock closed.

“And b the way, Slave. ….”, She was cupping my balls as she spoke to me, eyes focused on mine….

“When we get home this afternoon, I’m going to fuck you in the ass.”

Double Argh.

“I will be ready for that Mistress.”

So while the world saw the loving grandpa at our pool, the one where Molly and Mistress were reprimanded for PDA-ing on Father’s Day, underneath, my cock was locked away in my stainless steel cage for Mistress’s later disposition.

Not that any of those dumpy, tedious suburban Mom’s would catch my eye.

Later, when the cute grandson was brought home for his nap time, and the surly teens were off at a movie, Mistress told me to fetch her “supplies”.

That meant strap-on, dildo, and lube.

“Of course, Mistress.”

But she found the riding crop herself. Oops.

“Lay down, Slave, bottom up.”

Mistress looked quite dominant with her strap on neatly cinched on, riding crop ready, wrist twitching it back and forth.

“This is for that un-pleasant conversation we had this week, Slave.”

I knew what she was referring to…. A conversation when she questioned me, and I reacted with an attitude, rather than answered her straight up. She was right to correct me for my insensitivity and failure to know my place.

She gave me 1—15 good stinging ones, laughing as my ass bounced off of the bed.

“Ouch ….that hurts, Mistress.”

“Oh….it won’t hurt for long, Slave.”

It’s actually harder to handle the pain when I am NOT tied down, requiring more mental discipline to passively take my medicine.

“And a few more for you-know-who.”

Ah yes, Someone who was NOT among the many friends and family members sending birthday greeting by text, call, email or facebook posting. I had told Mistress that she had every right to punish me for that person’s transgression too.

“That’s what I am here for, Mistress”, I had told her earlier in the day. Now I was questioning my own judgment. Maybe it wasa bit more foolhardy than magnanimous.

Thwack, Thwack.

Ouch. Ouch.

That sucker stung.

But then she was done. She directed me to roll over, and used the crop to prod my cock to life. Underneath, my bottom was still stinging, but the pain quickly subsided into a tingly glow.

“Get it hard for me Slave…”

I used my fingers to follow her command. She seems to enjoy watching how that is done. And I watched her watch me, though my eyes could not help but linger on the plastic cock bobbing between her legs, ready to take me.

When she was satisfied, she had me roll back over, a pillow under my hips, to give her a nice comfortable angle for her assault.

And her aim was true, the first shot out of the box. Mistress is quite skilled at this way of asserting her control over me.

And it is pretty remarkable how the process effects her too: that delicious shudder and jerk as she comes while thrusting into me makes me tingle even now, here at the keyboard.

When she had her fill, and concluded that I had been placed in the properly slavish frame of mine, she rose up, doffed the harness, and instructed me to insert my white probe, as a continuing reminder that my ass, like my cock, was hers.

And of course it is.

And when I was finally given permission to come inside her, it was with the type of moaning and groaning gusto suitable for an outburst that seemed to come in waves from deep inside me.

At that point, I would have signed a ten year extension. No Lebron style free agency for me. I like being treated as her chattel.

It was nap time then, before heading out to a dinner celebration of Mistress and slave’s big day. And after a lovely feast accompanied by some elegant bubbly, we walked to this lovely, timeless bar with a view from atop River City: One of our favority watering holes.

There we joined the blue haired ladies and bow-tied men on the dance floor as the aging singer covered “Night and Day” to a
latin-on- geritol beat. It’s a Madmen-ish place where folks of our generations can really feel “forever young”, if only by comparison.

And the short, revealing black dress that Mistress was wearing probably sent a few of the gents into their jacket pockets, in search of an extra dose of their blood pressure medicine.

Sitting there, sipping our Ameretto and Jamieson (no not mixed, please), we flashed back over our adventures of the last nine months.

And somehow the notion of a “Mistress sandwich” came up.

“You’d really do that Slave?”

“If you wished, Mistress ….of course, I’m not touching cock….and would not want him, whoever he might be, to touch mine….”

“I agree, Slave….”

“And would you like that Mistress …. Two men, devoted to your pleasure? Maybe my mouth between your legs as he used your mouth? The potential combinations are endless.

‘What woman wouldn’t Slave….”

I reviewed my theory that it’s only natural that a woman would need more than one man to fully please her..

“ I mean …. We men all have limits on how frequently we can do it, Mistress. But you…..you could come all day long, Mistress. It’s just natural that you would want, even need, more than one of us.”

Somehow this brought to mind the tales of those grizzled western adventurers, who needed an extra horse in reserve for those long treks over the mountains and down to the coast.

Mistress, in her way, is always up for adventure too.

Of course all this talk can lead to other consequences.

It was late. We were tired and a little tipsy. But on the ride home, my hand seemed to settle on Mistress’s tight black panties. With some frustration.

“Why don’t you slide them down, Mistress…..I can’t really touch you this way.”

She was accommodating.

So there we were, heading up the highway, Mistress ankles crossed on the dash, her panties tangled at her knees, my fingers kneading her damp, squishy flesh, the aroma of her crowding out the cool processed air of our little steel and glass capsule.

“I want the Hitachi again tonight, Slave”, she murmured to me her head back, eyes closed, cunt squirming against my damp devious digits.

And that’s how we found ourselves back in bed, after midnight, Mistress coming and coming, then sobbing in release as the power tool had its way with her.

I love those big ones.

And I did fuck her a quite a while afterwards, but somehow we seemed to fall asleep before it was time for me to beg for permission. Maybe this morning we can piece those events together if we compare notes.

But there are really more important things to do. After all, it’s Switch day for me. And Mistress has not had her birthday spanks yet.