Q. and A. with Mick and Molly

Yesterday was a bit of a rare sexual semi-washout for us. First Mick, then Molly have been stricken by a cold/flu passed on by a grandson.

Well…we did have sex Friday morning. And Mistress did make me wear my cage, since we were driving separately. Not that she needs an excuse. Hopefully that earned her some Domme brownie points with her trainer, M.

But when we got home….Mistress crashed with this flu. We both had a brief nap, followed by dinner for 10. Then to bed at 1 am, tired and tipsy. So a pass was well in order.  Hopefully Mistress will have a good sleep in this morning.

But I hate to leave you loyal readers without something to consume on a Saturday. It might make you turn to the dark side --- maybe the BP spill cam. How tedious.

So here are some of the questions we have heard (or you may have), with our “candid” answers:

Q. Do you guys really have sex that often?

A. Actually we have it more often than reported here. But if I wrote any more it would cut into our sex time. (and life too.)

Q. Why the blog?

A. To please Mistress. It allows Mick to say some things that my taciturn Irish guy demeanor does not always allow through the spoken word. Like how much I worship Molly. Truly.

That I am hers.

Forever.

That I like what she’s wearing.

That she always, always, look’s nice.

That I am very lucky to have her.

You get the point. And it is all true. But sometimes as we hunker down through the rigors and tedium of daily life, the words don’t spring from my tongue as often as they should. With the blog, Mistress can read it all and also get a few laughs each morning, usually with my tongue worming it’s way between her clean shaven folds.

Of course it’s had some other interesting fringe benefits, including meeting an interesting rogue’s gallery of characters, some of whom appear on these pages. It also eggs us on. Variety makes for interesting things to write about. So we create variety.

Q. How did the Western Correspondent get his job?

A. After journalism school M’s resume asserts that he did several internships in the mountain west, some that involved clever uses of his reputedly perpetually rigid cock. We are a little sloppy, so I never checked his references. But, as you have learned, he does talk a good game.

When he learned of “Under Contract for his Wife” as an emerging, if deviant, voice in the blogo-sphere, he impressed both of us with his clever comments. Not long after his comments appeared, he began emailing us tales of his exploits, including with his wife B, who has been known to wield a painful paddle. We began running some of M tales and commentaries as part of the blog.

Of course, M has since begun to play a much more intimate role in Molly’s life. That began with a phone call while Molly was on a long road trip. And now the mere sound of his voice, or the chime of one if his salacious text messages seems to get her cunt all damp and her pelvis all squirmy. He’s doing an excellent job of training her to be his slave in sex. The folks at Hitachi should consider hiring the two of them as spokes-models. Can’t you imagine them doing X- rated infomercials?

In any event, it’s an inspiring “lurker to master” story of internet hi-jinks, don’t you think? Hopefully Mistress will recover in time to participate in a phone date with him later today.

Q. Where is River City?

A. Well, we do like to preserve our anonymity. Let’s just say it’s not on the Rivers that Bruce Springsteen, Neil Young or Randy Newman sing about.

Q. The other night, did Mistress actually let Mick come after all that teasing?

A. She has authorized me to waive on her behalf the Mistress Slave privilege. Yes, she was merciful. Despite M’s recommendation, she did allow me to come. She says she did so because she likes it when I come with her permission, not necessarily to end my frustration.

Is it a wonder that I worship her so deeply?


Please let us know if you have any other questions.

Worship Extravaganza

Mistress has been particularly horny of late.

No doubt it has a lot to do with her ongoing infatuation (enslavement?) via phone, text and email with our Western Correspondent.

He seems to know how to press Mistress’s buttons. But since I am the one with cock and tongue available at the drop of Mistress’s panties, I am more than happy to serve as his surrogate back here in River City.

Mistress had an early morning conference call yesterday.

So when I came upstairs and handed her my “homework” to read, she was happy to accept my worship – a slow and gentle massage of her slick and delicious cunt with my tongue – but we did not have the time for me to fuck her properly. Her Duty called.

Shortly before she headed to lunch with a colleague she called to let me know she would be making an office call at around 1:30. I knew what that meant.

When she arrived I pulled the chair to the door, spread out the blanket on the chair to avoid those tell tale stains on the upholstery, and fell my knees.

My duty called.

And it’s always nice to savor mistress musky enthralling juices on my lips through the rest of the day.

On the drive home, Mistress shared a bit of her ongoing dialogue with M. It appeared she had let it be known that she was particularly horny that afternoon.  And while I am sure she would have liked to hear his voice directing her to switch on the Hitachi and press it against herself just so, that was not in the cards last evening.

“He told me I should have my Slave worship me when we get home.”

“Happy to accommodate, Mistress.”

So before heading out for our evening bike ride, Mistress  lay on the bed, legs draped over the side, spread wide as I knelt before her.

I used my conventional techniques to take her to one gentle orgasm. But Mistress just lay there, legs still spread, eyes screwed shut, mind, who knows where. (well, I had a good idea where her mind was).

And until she tells me to stop, it’s my duty to continue to please her, isn’t it?

So I proceeded, but tried a change up that seemed to catch her off guard.

Mistress’s fantasy life with M apparently features much rougher, more demanding treatment than she gets from her more malleable slave. So I went at her with my mouth with  a pace and tenacity that was closer to ferocious than tender. I pulled her clit and lips hard and from side to side with my lips and teeth.

Soon Mistress was squirming and moaning and coming. And then coming again. It was a worship-palooza.

Experiment is the mother of invention. I need to file that technique  away for further adventures.

After Mistress came back to  earth, she relaxed her thighs, which had a death grip on my head for that 3^rd orgasm. I moved back a bit and captured the view of her cleanly shaven pussy spread wide and open for me, still dripping from a combination of our juices.

“Nice view, Mistress. Maybe we should take a picture for M.”

She seemed to think that was a good idea.

So I used her I-phone to snap a few. She picked the most alluring one and texted it off to him with the caption “Slave’s eye view.”

We wanted to make sure he knew we had both followed his directions.

HNT/ Some New Rules for Mistress

Molly and Mick drove with one of the surly teens to work and back yesterday. Summer vacation has begun, and we decided to bribe her to “volunteer” for a local political campaign as an incentive to actually get out of bed before noon.

So on the way home, after both of us had busy days, we could not have our normal smutty chat about Molly’s interactions with her Master, or our plans for the evening, other than in “code”.

Mistress was sitting next to me, smirking a bit, fiddling with her I-phone. I am thinking “texting with M, no doubt”. Wondering what was up. My Internal temperature rising.

“I have a business call later tonite.”

“Really. Different time zone?”

“Yes. That OK wth you?”

“Of course it’s OK. I have some things to keep me busy tonight.”

Interpretation: Mistress had arranged for a phone “date” with M this evening. Slave had no standing to object. Nor would I.

We had talked about this earlier. I had sensed that because of their busy schedules, Mistress and M had been shut out so far this week, with none of their intimate little sex chatting since Sunday. My guess was that this “drought” was getting to Mistress, which may have explained her wild and crazy response to the Hitachi the night before.

She needed to hear his voice telling her what to do with that unrelenting little power tool. And I told her that was fine with me. Not so long ago, Mistress was taking an entire evening with her former Dom (the other M). I certainly had no problem with a long and sultry sex chat in the comfort of our bedroom. And I suspected I would get some “clean up” action afterwards. Win – Win – Win.

Then she dropped another coded “bomb”.

“By the way, he says I should ‘wait’ until we talk.”

Hmmmm. No worship? I stifled the next, obvious question. The teen was in the back, no doubt oblivious, but I really wanted to question Mistress on this one. And that would have to wait.

When we got home and were alone for a moment in our room, Mistress had that sly little smile on her face. She was changing from the black power suit into her black biking outfit . I slid up behind her, a hand snaking between her legs, and into the black panties she was wearing. She was already damp, of course. Anticipating.



“So he says no orgasms until your talk tonight, Mistress?”

“That’s right Slave. He wants me all throbbing and horny just for him.”

My finger was testing her resolve.

“No worship then?”

“Sorry. Not tonight, Slave.”

“But aren’t you horny for my tongue.”

I was rubbing a bit harder. Mistress pulled my finger away.

“Of course, Slave. I’d love your tongue now, but rules are rules.”

My she was the obedient little Slave tonight. The training must be working. And the thought that he was programming her to reduce and channel her orgasm output. Hot.

After our bike ride and dinner, Mistress got her call from M as we were sitting on a downstairs couch, listening to Keith Olberman rant.

“Hi…. Let me just walk upstairs.”

Then Mistress patted me on the head, gave me a sympathetic look, and giggled her way up the stairs. I spent the next 70 minutes or so on some busy work I had brought home, and trolling through Hulu for interesting video clips on a lost hero, RFK.

Occasionally, I could hear Mistress pacing a bit upstairs, the soft murmur of her voice. And of course there were moments of relative silence. I imagined her with the Hitachi between her legs, responding to his cues and commands, and writhing in bliss the way she had the night before.

Those were the thoughts that made my cock twitch.

But soon Mistress was back downstairs, stroking my back. Suggesting I come upstairs with her.

I lay on the bed, naked as she likes, while she went through her evening beauty rituals.

“We spent the last 20 minutes or so talking about you, Slave. He says I am an embarrassment as a Mistress.”

“How so, Mistress? “

“I am way to easy on you, Slave. He says lots of Mistress’s would keep their slave in y caged for 3 or 4 days at a time. And that I should restrict your orgasms too. He wants to coach me to be a better Mistress.”

Hmmm.

Twitch. My hardening cock was obvious to her as she walked toward the bed.

“I suspect he’d like that, Mistress. My cock locked away. And your needy little cunt more dependent on him for its action. “

By now she was in bed next to me. Our hands were roaming. My cock was hard.

“Maybe, Slave.”

“He said that tonite I should make you worship me, let you fuck me for a while, but not let you come.”

Argh.

“That would be Cruel, Mistress.”

Of course that made me want her all the more. She just smiled that wicked smile, holding her cards close.

“But he said that was at my discretion. Not a hard command.”

“So I guess I have a chance, Mistress?”

“Let’s just see how this develops, Slave.”

I found my self between her legs, engaging in a long, slow massage of the cunt that had already had three power tool induced orgasms that night. I figured she was in need of something gentle and soothing. And after a while the therapy seemed to have the proper effect, as Mistress came with a sudden jerk and moan against my lips.

“Let me suck you for a while, Slave.”

And she did. Nice and slowly, me lying back, talking to her in more detail about her evening. Wondering whether this was all a colossal tease, or if I would be allowed the direction of the type of explosion that was now seeming close and inevitable.

It was me doing the moaning now.

“What do you want, Slave?”, She asked, as her fingers toyed with my balls, and her tongue took a slight break from driving my shaft crazy.

“I would really like to fuck you, Mistress.”

“All right then.”

And she let me mount her, legs spread wide, eyes scrunching closed as I filled her.

“You are SO hard, Slave.”

“You make me that way, Mistress.”

As I thrust into her, reveling in her tight and warm hug of my desperate cock, I still did not know if I would be granted permission to come when I begged for it.

But that was a bridge to cross after I gave her the nice hard fucking that no power tool can provide (at least that’s what I like to tell myself).

What happened next is subject to the Mistress / Slave privilege.

Mistress Shares a Fantasy from her Master

Last night, after our bike ride, Mistress checked her email as she stripped off her black riding shorts, getting ready for worship. (mistress is a proficient multi-tasker). But with her tight black shorts still pooled at her ankles, Mistress seemed a bit …distracted …. by what she was reading.

Her legs and ass took on the tell tale fidget that comes when she is being messaged by her Master, our Western Correspondent. Her eyes fixed. After a minute, she looked up at me, remembering that I was still in the room, prepared for worship.

“Slave, M sent me a pretty hot fantasy. Do you want me to read it to you?”

Silly question. Of course. I was curious to know what devious thoughts M had in mind, which, no doubt, were part of the mental conditioning that he was utilizing in his remote Slave training regime.

“Absolutely, Mistress.”

“Why don’t you worship, as I read it to you.”

I tossed a pillow on the floor and knelt next to the bed, as Mistress lay back, lap top on her tummy, and looked for the beginning. Then she began to read to me:

“Here is something to imagine, Slave.

You have irritated me, and I have summoned you to my cabin for a good, sound bare bottom spanking.

You are very nervous on the plane as you have never been spanked by me before. You’ve heard me talk about how hard I have spanked my previous slaves. It has you unsettled, doesn’t it?

You are also very horny, as I have forbidden you to cum for several days before our rendezvous. As the plane prepares to land, your pussy is a soggy mess, just the way I want it. But you are able to resist the temptation to go to the ladies room to get yourself off. Very obedient, Slave.

I meet you as you clear security, and kiss you hello. I reach down and squeze your cunt, right there in the busy airport, as you gasp out loud. I want everyone gawking to know you are mine. Completely mine.

“Have you been a good girl and not cum”.

“Yes, sir”, you hiss, squirming as my hand continues to grip you.

“Good , then come with me.”

I reluctantly let go of you, take your bag and we walk to my car.

We happily talk on the way to my cabin, but, as we arrive, you sense a change in my mood.

Your stomach clinches again. I give you my instructions in my best “no nonsense” voice:

“Go inside and remove every stitch of clothes. Then get your nose in the corner with your bare bottom exposed. Put your hands behind your head and wait for me. And don't you dare touch my pussy.”

Of course, you would obey, wouldn’t you, Slave?

After some time you would hear me enter the cabin. You hear me unbuckle my belt and slide it out of my jeans. Come to me. You would stand in front of me as I shoved two fingers roughly up your cunt, and placed your hand on my rock hard cock.

“That’s for later, Slave. But first we have some business to attend to.

I would drop the belt saying, “I don’t need that to blister your bare bottom young lady”, as I pulled you over my lap.

I would begin to spank you hard, as you howled and begged me to stop.

“I will decide when you have been spanked enough young lady”, completely ignoring your pleas for mercy.

When I had spanked you into total submission, you would lay quietly across my lap, catching your breath, sobbing, maybe, but squirming too. I would gently rub your bottom. Soothing and calming you. Your cunt would be on fire, wouldn’t it, Slave?

Then I would gently place you on you knees before me, and unbutton my jeans, offering you my hard cock.

“Kiss it and properly thank your master, slave.”

“Yes, sir”, you would kiss it and thank me, wouldn’t you, Slave?

To be continued, my horny little slave.

Your Master M

P.S.: lucky for you I am letting you cum tonight, some night I might not.”


As Mistress read this erotic tale, she squirmed her little wet “pussy” ( a word I don’t normally use, but maybe should) against my lips. Then, once she completed the tale, she allowed me to finish the work that M had started with his hot and compelling fantasy.

She sat up, groped my throbbing cock, then suggested that we prepare dinner first before she took care of my own needs. Deferring my pleasure seems to be Mistress’s latest trick in my own training regime.

And by the way, it works. Keeps Slave on his toes, so to speak.

After dinner, we settled into bed with the papers and our computers, but Mistress’s naked body was a bit too distracting for me to focus on that article about how BP could use bankruptcy to avoid paying for its big mess. I decided it would be much more fun to mess around with Mistress.

Once I made my preference known, Mistress made clear what her preference was.

“I need the Hitachi tonight, Slave.”

“Addicting, is it, Mistress?”

It had been nearly two days since she last put it to use, with M whispering instructions in her horny little ear.

“I guess it is, Slave”

I was happy to oblige, and reached for it, tucked just under our bed.

I tasted her first, using my tongue to loosen up and moisten those lovely sensuous folds, then flicked it on, sliding it between Mistress’s widely spread legs. Her moan of gratitude was immediate, but the business end of the device was not exactly where she likes it to be.

“Why do you do that Slave?”, she asked, her cunt rising and twisting to find the elusive vibrating head.

“Well… I’ve learned that the longer I drag this out, the harder you come, Mistress. Isn’t that true?”

“I suppose so”, Mistress said, a tone of petulance in her voice.

As I toyed with her, I went back to M’s story.

“Do you think you could really go several days without coming, Mistress?”

“I don’t know Slave….probably not.”

“Then you wouldn’t be very obedient, would you?”

I asked her to speculate about M sending us a chastity belt, and asking his “minion” to fit and lock it on her for a few days in advance. Just to keep her honest.

The concept clearly got Mistress going. “That would be cruel, Slave. Plus what about you? Wouldn’t you get horny?”

“Well I guess I could resort to self help. And there are always blow jobs, Mistress.”

“You wouldn’t do that, or get one, without my permission, Slave,” she scolded.

I could see where this was going. That whole goose and gander thing. Argh.

In the meantime, I was being a little more attentive with the Hitachi. Mistress was beginning to writhe on the bed, frantically pressing that steamy cunt of hers against the relentlessly vibrating tool.

Soon it was just too much for her, and she was grinding against it as I pressed it home hard against that needy little clit. It was perfectly fine in my mind if her thoughts were back in that cabin, finally getting fucked by M, her bottom sore from that bare bottom spanking, all resistance wrung from her. His perfect little slave, at last. Because her body was there, next to me, and for the evening, at least, it was all mine.

When she settled down she used her last bit of strength to push the throbbing Wand away.

“Enough, Slave.”

As I fucked her, I could tell her face was wet, her body still shaking with those post orgasmic sobs that come when she hits a ten on the orgasm scale.

The team approach of satisfying Mistress had shot and scored. M gets the big assist. And I (almost) feel guilty for getting to score.