HNT / To Deny or Not to Deny?

Between ‘Nilla’s latest chapter in her “Mountain” opus, and M’s suggestion on these pages that we poll our little claque of opinionated readers on whether and to what length Mistress should endure orgasm quarantine, we had a lot of chatter going yesteday in Collins-ville, and with our Western Correspondent.

M even turned up briefly among ‘Nilla’s comments with a few choice, rare words, describing himself (quite accurately) as our underproductive and overpaid “Western Correspondent”. I wonder if it’s possible for UCTMW, LLC to collect a syndication fee from ‘Nilla as a way to recoup our investment in his lofty monthly salary.

First, on the subject of ‘Nilla’s little work of speculative fiction.

I confess that the thought of a certain Slave being taken that way by his Mistress in front of one of her male admirers sent a certain twitch through me. Is it the humiliation that I crave? Part of the whole cuckold thing? I do get a certain grovel-ly delight when Mistress asserts herself that way. The experiment with the cage on while being ass fucked over the weekend was …..Wow-ish.

So yes, ‘Nilla. That works.

But the last few passages. Involving the Slave’s mouth and M’s “special occasion cock”? That generated a big fat yuck among the three of us. Not to say that those who are into it, shouldn’t be into it. Who are we to judge when it comes to sexual behaviors not involving unwelcome conduct or kids?

It’s just that M and I both are pretty darn hetero; and Mistress herself likes to think that both his cock and my mouth would be attending solely to her should we ever find ourselves together.

Nonetheless, I certainly got a kick out of our fans’ interest in my well being over ‘Nilla’s posting.

On to the subject or orgasm denial.

Mistress thought it was oh, so nice of you all to suggest how she would benefit from 2 0r 3 days of denial.

When I texted her mid-day that “Everyone seems to be voting for days of denial, Mistress”

Her rather clear response was “No Way.”

Of course, I don’t have the authority to impose suck a sentence. At most my contract would be limited to our 24 hour switch day.

You sub-sisters will have to lobby the Western Correspondent if you want to see a longer sentence imposed.

And while it might be amusing to deny Mistress on Switch Day - to tease, torment, bring her tight up to the edge, and leave her hanging – I would lose the special thrill I get to watch her crash over and through that last barrier. So it would be self-denial as much as denial for her.

An interesting concept now that I think of it…. I suppose that might be kind of fun….. let’s think about it a while.

I agree with ‘Nilla who talked about how orgasm denial sucks, but when you have that first post denial explosion, it seems like it was worth the wait. Almost. When Mistress has denied me for a 24 hour or 26 hour period, I am crazy frustrated. And she seems to enjoy that clearly manifested need I have for her.

But she seems to have let our Abstinence Days fade away in the last few months. It’s usually 2 or 3 a day here in the Collins’ household for her devoted Slave. Maybe she’s going with the theory that lots or orgasms keep me docile and obedient. If so, it’s certainly working.

I would be remiss not to say that all that commentary yesterday did get Mistress worked up. When we got home from work, she was quite insistent on her pre-dinner worship, and then, after dinner, we settled in for a long and mutually pleasing session in our bed, with my little device required.

“Put it in Slave…. I like what it does to your cock.”

And so that she gets the proper balance, Mistress plans to leave for work a little later than normal, so she can fit in a phone therapy session with our Western Correspondent, assisted by her trusty Hitachi.

Now I’m heading upstairs to wake her. The question I haven’t answered yet is whether I should let her horniness build for her call with M, or get a little re-work action in for myself.

Tough call.

Fulfilling the Prime Directive

My hardwired prime directive is to keep Mistress content.

Sure, life presents continuous challenges that even a devoted Slave can’t control – demanding job, moody teens, needy relatives, shitty real estate market, yadda, yadda . But I like to think I perform satisfactorily when it comes to keeping Mistress amused and satisfied when it comes to meeting her sexual and emotional needs, particularly with the help of out Western Correspondent.

(To some extent I give myself a little credit for engaging his assistance, since M found Mistress through this blog).

The last couple of days provide some good examples of how M and I seem to work as one co-ordinated “ Mistress Satisfaction” unit to keep her happy and sated.

Our Monday morning schedule called for an early breakfast meeting for Mistress. She does not like to be rushed in the AM, so there was no time for early morning sex. But I made sure that she had a refreshing orgasm as we showered, using fingers to slide between those molten lips, as warm water ran down our bodies. Mistress did a nice little shudder and moan as she clung to me, letting the aftershocks settle as she rinsed the conditioner from her thick, dark hair.

It was one meeting after another for her that day. Then, at 5:30, we were off to a political fundraiser. We were sitting at a table listening to the bloviators run on far too long, when Mistress leaned over holding her I-phone in her hand.

“M was very attentive today, Slave, even though I probably did not give him enough time to talk.”

“How so, Mistress.”

“Well, I was sitting in my office and this picture of his cock popped up….a texted cock.”

“Would you like to share?”

“If you want, Slave.”

She fingered the screen for a moment, and there it was, thick, hard, veins protruding.

“Hmmmm. And how does this effect you Mistress…. What does he want you to do when you get the cock shot?”

“It’s a little ….disturbing….distracting, Slave. And I think he wants me to return the favor….go somewhere and take a cunt shot to send to him.”

“And did that happen today, Mistress?”

“Not today….too busy. Maybe only once or twice a week.”


I imagined Mistress off in some bathroom stall. Juicing up her naughty parts with her well manicured fingers, for the purpose of titillating our Western Correspondent. Then I expressed silent gratitude that I was not wearing my cock cage.

“It’s a little unfair, Mistress. Because of my “no touch” rule, I can’t send you hard cock shots.”

“But I get to see yours all the time, Slave….and those pictures I get of you in the cage…they’re just as much a turn on.

Hopelessly distracted by now from the self-absorbed blather of the candidates, we found an exit and headed home for some much needed worship time.

Tuesday morning, Mistress was not so rushed. So we had the opportunity to make love before heading to work.

And just after lunch, Mistress stopped by my office for some mid-day worship.

We have gotten pretty efficient when it comes to a Mistress drive by at my office.

She breezes in.

“Hello, Slave.”

I close the door, slide the “throne” against the door.

“Hi, Mistress. You’re are looking particularly good today.”

I spread the maroon blanket.

She sits, then wriggles out of her undies.

By now I am on my knees, and begin my oral devotions.

Soon Mistress is shuddering, her legs wrapping themselves around my neck, pulling me closer to her.

We chat a bit then.

“My, look how big I am down there, all puffed up and out.”

True, her clit was all red, swollen, popped up between those lovely lips.

“Maybe we could take a photo for M?”

“It’s almost too obscene, Slave.”

Instead, I went to work again with my lips and tongue, giving her one more orgasm for the road.

Later, on the drive home, Mistress said she heard from M as she walked back to her office after her mid-day frolic with me.

“He sent another cock picture, Slave. Then he called. He wanted to make sure I was well taken care of.”

Then she repeated their cute conversation:

“Let me guess, morning sex?”

“Check”.

“Worship?”

“Check. And then a cock picture from you….”

“Check….”

Mistress’s text message chime went off, as we were getting within a few minutes of home.

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

“Of course you can, Mistress…”

(It’s nice of her to ask, but she hardly needs the Slave’s permission).

They chatted and I could hear Mistress’s end of the conversation. They were talking about our readers’ comments on how Mistress should be handled on our switch days. M seemed to agree with those of you who propose more begging, more orgasms, just plain more.

Mistress was beginning to squirm.

Yes, squirm. Cute.

“Slave, M says maybe we should ask our readers if I should have to suffer through more orgasm denial …. Would they suggest 2 days, 3 days?”

“I don’t have authority to do that for more than 24 hours, Mistress…”

But I suppose M would, wouldn’t he? So let us know what you think.

By now we were pulling into the drive. And M had one more “request”.

“He wants a photo after you worship, Slave.”

So within few minutes, I found myself on my knees, yet again, snapping a photo of Mistress, fresh from a couple of orally administered orgasms, legs spread in her obscenely insouciant way. And then she texted that shot obediently off to her Master.

Not long after we got his rather pithy response.

“Fucking Hot, Molly.”

I think Mistress was pleased.

And so the sun set another day on the Collins’ household, with what I hoped was a satisfactory performance of Slave’s prime directive.

Holloween With the Blog-Tourage?

 

In her Sunday post, Sin cheekily proposed a Halloween get together for her little circle of kinky bloggers and their significant others in perviness. And the thought of putting faces and body parts to cyber-noms is certainly intriguing.

Maybe we could even get our Western Correspondent and his mysterious wife B to tag along. And bring their collection of paddles.

But what got me flashing back was Sin’s proposal that Tennessee would be a good mid-way point for such a meet up. It so happens that a lovely B & B in the Smokies was the scene of  Mick and Molly’s first extended Bondage caper, way back in the summer of 1988.

Let me set the stage.

It was just a few months since Molly had called Mick’s bluff.

“You’ve been flirting with me for months. Are you ever going to do something about it?” was the thrust of her message to me.

We were both married to other folks. Nice folks, actually. But we were thrown together by the vagaries of politics. And once thrown together, we just …. Stuck.

And yes, folks, it was Mike Dukakis’s Presidential campaign that brought us together. ( I can hear you laughing!)

When was the last time you thought of Mike Dukakis in the context of hot, illicit, I know I shouldn’t even think about this but can’t help myself, sex?

Molly had just turned 26. Which seems even worse now, since I have two older daughters.

I was a mature, full head of haired 38. I still feel like a cradle robber. Though it still feels SOOOO good.

Somehow we were allowed by spouses to go solo to the Democratic Convention that summer in Atlanta. And, well, over that week we seemed to spend the bulk of our time in bed.

I just remember lots of rumpled, damp sheets, very little sleep, Jesse Jackson ranting endlessly about rainbows, shaking JFK, Jr. ‘s hand, and Neil Diamond singing that song about “Coming to America” as the (lets say it all together now) “proud son of Greek Immigrants” took the stage.

But on the way back, somehow, we arranged two nights in this lovely Inn in the Smokies called the Buckhorn Lodge. ( Thank God those were the days without cell phones or GPS devices, allowing us to make our selves very, very scarce.)

Anyway, we were able to rent this house buried in the forest. And Mick had brought his little bag of tricks along, filled with various lengths of rope.

Those were the days before we discovered the wisdom of putting Molly in charge. So she found herself bound to our bed that first night, at my mercy, and more than well fucked before the sun came up.

And I recall our hike, when, even deeper in the woods, I pulled her off the trial, bound her to a tree, and used a whippy tree branch as a switch to illustrate her bottom with a lovely rosy pattern, before using fingers and mouth to force an orgasm or two from her.

What a shame there were no digital cameras in the ‘80’s. Those would have been shots I would not want have taken to the local drug store for processing.

So if Sin and her Dom ever need a convenient place to come together, and to invite the rest of us along for the show, here is a link to the scene of those crimes.

http://www.buckhorninn.com/cottages.htm

Fortunately, the statute of limitations has expired for us.

Sexual Jujitsu

Mistress slept in a bit late yesterday morning. And who was I to wake her early? She needed to catch up on her beauty sleep, and I had kept her a up a bit later than normal on Saturday night, watching my alma mater take a devastating OT loss in a college football game.

So by the time I came upstairs to her – around 9 am – we had only a brief window of opportunity to exercise my switch privileges. And since Surly teen #2 was already up, stalking around the house, I has to keep it on the QT.

Mistress was a little resistant too. Although maybe it’s only natural to suggest that I not cuff her wrists together while she is trying to read the blog on her laptop. Apparently opposable thumbs are not enough for that little stunt.

But soon the laptop was put aside, and Mistress wrists were cuffed overhead. She was rolled onto her tummy, but I left on the pretty rose and black undies that went with her top. I figured that those of you who just come here to browse the pictures of Mistress’s tight and foxy ass might enjoy.

Yes, Mistress got her spanking, which M was curious about later in the morning. (“She deserves it”, he commented to me later in an email). And I probably enjoyed taking out a little of my anger about that trick play at the end of the game on her, making her cheeks match the rose in those undies.

And after my tricks, Mistress got her treat. The Hitachi was deployed, as I slid it between her legs, then under her, letting her quickly find the full measure of satisfaction she craved by now.

I wish I could capture in words the sight of Mistress’s ass as she humps that thing, her unbound legs flayling, thighs squeezing as she has a nice juicy orgasm. And then I continued to press it against her, even after she went limp. Soon she was squiring all over again, as I drew one more explosion from her before succumbing to her pitiful entreaties to “stop, Slave….I’m just too sensitive now.”

I do wonder what would happen if I tuned those pleas out some morning?  Any ideas, Sub-sisters?

After a suitable time  for her to recover, I rolled her over. I fed her my cock for a few moments, astride her chest.

“You do that very well, Mistress. I think M would really enjoy doing this to you, don’t you?”

It was hard to hear her response. Talking with your mouth full is really not too effective.

Then I took my pleasure from her. Though I do remember that as I fucked her, she was already re-asserting her authority.

“You went pretty easy on me today, Slave….you didn’t even make me beg.”

“I guess you’re right…..but we are on a pretty tight schedule….”

We needed to get in a bike ride before She went to a wedding shower, and I took the teens to the football game – our local pussy cats’ season opener.

“I was wondering if it had to do with the ass fucking you got yesterday ….that seems to have a lingering effect sometime in bringing out your sub side.”

“I suppose it does Mistress….”

“When we talked last night during your game, M said I needed to make you buy me a bigger dildo for the strap on. Don’t you think you can handle something bigger by now?”

“Hmmm….. I think he may be right, Mistress.”

“Of course he is.”

Around this time I was begging for her to come. Don’t you think it’s interesting how, even with her hands still cuffed, taking my cock hard and deep, Mistress can reverse that switch?  

Sexual Jujitsu….impressive.