Consumer Research

UCTMW ENTERPRISES, LLC
MEMORANDUM

From: Mick Collins, Executive Editor
To: M, Western Correspondent

Re: Result of Consumer Research on your “Instructions”

While the experience is still fresh in my mind, I wanted to report back on my efforts to utilize your helpful instructions on the proper spanking of a recalcitrant female.

As you know, our publication often likes to publish little “how to do” articles that our readers might find compelling and useful in their work-a-day lives.

Of course this is hardly an original idea. Lame-stream media outlets like the New York Times frequently publish recipes to use for posh holiday gatherings, and even cocktail recipes. One of our more comparable competitors, SFP, through her blogging empire sometimes posts handy “how to do” articles, like the one on how to makes a spreader bar from materials available at Home Depot. And you will surely recall how Aisha did a consumer review article on the higher and better uses of Risotto Spoons.

So, after we were surprised to see your article on “spanking methodology” pop up in the in-box that we reserve for you --- I could barely see it at first amidst the cob webs – I figured that our readers would love this helpful guide.

But first some quality control. Before we could give your procedure the coveted “UCTMW Seal of Approval”, we needed to do some consumer testing and take some illustrative photos.

Fortunately, it was Switch Day here at the corporate headquarters in River City, so our revered publisher, Molly Collins, could be compelled into serving as the test pilot in this experiment.

After Molly had read the morning papers a bit, I called her attention to the chair I had brought up from the dining room.

“Why do I have to be the sacrificial lamb on this one, Slave,” she whined. “I’ll bet one of the sub-sisters would be happy to volunteer.”

“I know, Mistress. But remember you chopped the travel budget in our latest austerity measures.”

Times are tough in the publishing world these days. And we don’t want to have to sell out to Ruppert Murdoch. The next thing you know you’d be seeing shots of Sarah Palin getting her bottom paddled.

Mistress agreed to be the subject of our little demonstration. But, as you might expect, getting her full co-operation was not an easy task. There’s a reason she’s the Publisher here and I am the lowly Executive Editor.

“Ok… first thing: take off that lovely black nighty, Mistress. You are supposed to be nude.”

“Huh…. Why? I don’t remember that part….”

I re-read the instructions to her, and she agreed, reluctantly, pulling off her soft black nighty to reveal that lovely, shapely body that has drawn so many page views to UCTMW in the last year.

“Now for your inspection.”

I was sitting on the chair. She was positioned in front of me. My fingers slid up the inside of her well conditioned thighs, exploring the path that I know well, dipping into her clean shaven folds.

“Wet already, Mistress? Our WC will be pleased to hear that this part of his instructions seem to have some appeal.”

She just gave me a snooty little sigh. But her slight undulations suggested that drawing your name into the conversation had a certain helpful effect.

I used my palms to rotate her around, giving me a close-up of her firm, rounded bottom. And my fingers slid between her legs, probing a bit, making her squirm as I invaded her virgin ass.

“I’m sure he likes the thought that you’ve saved this for his special occasion cock, Mistress.”

That seemed to make her ass tighten it’s firm grip on my invading digit.

We were ready to proceed with our demonstration.

"Okay, Mistress time to assume your position". I pulled her down, onto my lap.

It took us a while to get her oriented in the right way. My right leg over her left leg. Her right hand gripped by my left hand. Her bottom open and accessible to me. And before I got started I snapped this illustration to help our readers when they conduct this little exercise in the privacy of their own bedrooms … or dungeons, as the case may be.

Then I proceeded to thwack away with an open palm.

I had music on the mask the sound of flesh hitting flesh, since Surly Teen # 2 was in the house.

Mistress squirmed and wriggled as you would expect. But your instructions worked excellently. With her leg under mine and my hand gripping hers, she was going no-where.

The only problem was the chair. Mistress was clearly worried about her precarious balance, and the risk that she might slide off onto the floor.

Now maybe this is a good thing, making what is supposed to be an uncomfortable position all the less comfortable.

But Mistress can whine. And whine she did.

“I’m afraid I’m going slide off the chair, Slave.”

It may take a stronger more compelling Dom to take charge and get the subject of this exercise to suck it up and take her medicine, even if the is afraid she might slide onto the floor.

To that extent, this Executive Editor may not have been the best person to conduct our little experiment. I am wondering if some of our readers can persuade their Dom’s to follow your prescription to more … compelling effect.

Or maybe if our travel budget gets restored in the coming year, you can demonstrate yourself.

So after about 20-30 good strokes, and a good deal of Mistress squirming and whining, I succumbed before we got to the all important “begging and pleading” phase of the proceedings.

Maybe a wider, deeper chair would work better. Will have to keep a look out for that type of furnishing.

But I felt that Mistress deserved a little additional punishment for her failure to complete our mission.

She was positioned on our bed. Her hands were bound behind her with those leather handcuffs we bought on San Francisco years ago. And I picked up that long shoehorn.

The result from the combination of spanking and the shoehorn was a very nice rosey ass, as shown below:


Now I could have concluded the experiment there. Mistress was squirming delightfully against the bed as I took a slow taunting pace with the shoe horn. At one point I slid onto her my firm cock poking its way between those sheets. The moaning that induced was delicious for an Executive Editor's ears.

But it seemed despite all those orgasms on Saturday, Mistress’s participation in our little demonstration deserved a reward.

That’s when I reached for the Hitachi. Somehow it had survived your lengthy Saturday evening conference call.

As I flicked it on, Mistress gave off a little anticipatory shudder, and spread her legs as I slid it between her ass cheeks.

The rest is subject to an Executive Privilege.

Any input on how we could have done this consumer research more effectively will be appreciated.

Some Helpful Guidance from Our Western Correspondent

If there was day when Mistress deserves some orgasm denial  for her Switch Day, it is surely this one.

In the morning, Mistress was lavished with her usual therapy – her Slave’s tongue, and then, after she read my homework and ‘Nilla’s clever blog about that fetching “fictional” Domme, Slave’s firm “work-a-day”  cock.

At least a few orgasms were to be had there, before our morning bike ride

Then in the afternoon, after various mundane tasks were completed, Mistress ordered me upstairs.

“It’s that time Slave…. Get out my supplies.”

She meant her strap on and lubricant.

It had been a few weeks, and Slave was probably due.

But beforehand, Mistress said I probably also needed some cropping.

“But it’s hard for me to come up with a good excuse Slave….you’ve been pretty good lately.”

Of course I take pride in that, but….

Mistress had retrieved a very whippy crop from our closet. She was thwacking it a bit against her palm. Measuring it’s weight.

“Ok…. How about your rant this morning, when [Surly Teen #2] took your car and didn’t tell you….”

“But I needed those leaf bags in the trunk, Mistress.”

“I don’t like rants, Slave….

Thwack.  Ouch.  That stung.

“Will you do it again?”

“No… Mistress.”

Thwack.

“Liar….”

The blows rained down. And of course, Mistress was right. I probably would do it again.

By the time she was done, my bottom was very sore.  And she snapped a shot to transmit to M, and to sahre with all of you. You can see it on yesterday’s preview.

All of this got done with Mistress’s strap on cock bobbing in front of her.

She snapped a shot of that as well.

“The Domme’s eye view”.  (You can see that photo too in last night’s “preview” entry.)

When she texted that photo to M, she received   a prompt, “fucking HOT”, in return. 

Instant gratification.

And as Mistress positioned and then plunged into me, she came with a certain ferocious enthusiasm. Maybe twice. And there were more orgasms as I fucked her with the little probe stuffed inside me, assuring that my cock would remain nice and hard.

(Did I tell you I had the hard steel ring from my cock cage on…. That always assures a longer, harder fucking, as Mistress has come to know).

But she wasn’t done adding to her O count for the day.

When we woke from our post sex nap, Mistress checked her I-phone and there was a message from our Western Correspondent.

“M wants to know if I can talk with him at 6, Slave.”

“Of course, Mistress.”  I had plans to watch my alma mater on TV. Mistress was going to dinner later with the Surly Teen #2. This would work out fine.

About 90 minutes later, Mistress came downstairs, with that glazed, contented look on her face.

“How many, Mistress?”

“Not sure…. I lost count, Slave.”

I will have to look for a spike in our electric bill. Sounds like the Hitachi got a work out.

But now it’s Switch Day, and out Western Correspondent has some ideas on how to handle Mistress this morning. We got this dispatch from his yesterday and I plan to follow directions:

“Your lazy and underproductive WC has decided to do his job and provide some blog fodder.  For the entertainment of the sub sisters and a certain incorrigible  young lady, I provide the following tutorial on how to properly tan a young lady's bare bottom:

Have her strip bare naked.

Have her stand before you naked while you inspect her at your leisure.

Make sure she keep her hands at her sides and does not try and cover up

Embarrassment is good at this time.

Sit in a comfortable chair (you might be there for a while) with no arms to impede your swing.

Take her over your left knee.

Rap your right leg over both her legs.

Say hand please

She will then present her right hand to you.

Grab her right hand with your left hand

Now she is not going anywhere and you can give her a good talking to about the reason she finds her self in such a compromising position.

Then begin to spank her hard with your hand or implement of choice (a shoe horn would work well).

Stop often to lecture her about her bad and insolent behavior.

Don't pay any attention to her pleas for forgiveness. 

Or her howls, kicking and screaming.

Be strong, and do you duty.  

Remember she will say or do any thing to get out of her spanking at this time.

Pay no attention at all to her and spank her till you decide she has been properly punished.

Then have her go stand in the corner with her bright red bare bottom on display for you to admire as you have a nice soothing cocktail of your choice.

You deserve it after all that hard work.

I mention this only because I read your last blog entry with great interest, I actually said 10 extra not 10 total.   The 10 extra were for asking impertinent questions, as I know your are aware she is prone to do.   So use this information as you will on Sunday.

As always I remain, your lazy and underproductive,

Western Correspondent.”

Thank you, M…. I will see if I can live up to these high standards.

Preview

These pictures sort of write their own story, don't they?

Details in the morning.

Makes me feel like one of those dorky local news stations.... as in:
  
"Reports of plague outbreak?   details at 11."

Just Another Friday

Our readers will be happy to know that Mistress seems to be her feisty self again after that scary headache sequence a week ago….she’s hungry for my tongue and cock, and what Slave would not relish rising to meet her hunger.

Yesterday started very early for us. Surly Teen # 1 was going on her Senior class trip to DC. I was assigned the task of getting her up and out by 4:30 am to catch the bus with her classmates.

Mission accomplished, I was fully awake, so coffee was brewed and I got the blog done and posted for her and all of you loyal followers. I noticed that Aisha was up early too!

Of course, all that smutty writing and reading got me a bit …. Agitated. So I climbed the stairs around 6 am, and Mistress seemed happy to see me. She read the blog, I showered her slippery folds with attention from lips and tongue…. I suspect you know where that led us. And afterwards, there was still time for us to fall asleep, clinging tight and close, before we finally climbed out of bed and took a pre-work bike ride around 7 am or so.

Mistress was back for more after lunch though…. Stopping by my office for some mid-day attention.

As she sat in her “throne” and wriggled out of those black tights…. Yes, ‘Nilla they do drive me crazy…. A theme she picks up in her story this morning 'Nilla: Domme Wife….she mentioned talking to our Western Correspondent earlier in the day.

“Was he glad I applied his sentence for you last night, Mistress?”

“Yes Slave…. He likes it when he can trigger some ‘epic’ sex for us…. But he says he would have given me a much crueler spanking….”

“No doubt, Mistress….”

By now I was on my knees, sliding my tongue through Mistress’s ripe and juicy parts. AS she came, Mistress wrapped her left leg around my neck, pulling he all the closer.

It’s nice to feel wanted.

On the drive home, we listened to a radio story about the “outrage” of the latest TSA airport screening procedure. Wasn’t it just a year ago that folks were whining about the security breech involving the “underwear bomber”? Now the outrage is that the security dudes might be looking at nakey scans of us, or groping our underwear?

Memories are short.

But it gave us something to talk about.

“I wonder if M’s special occasion cock would be the sort of ‘anomaly’ that triggers a hand frisk of his ‘junk’ Mistress?”

She just raised an eyebrow.

“Bad, Slave.”

“How do you think they would react if they saw my steel cage under there, Mistress?”

She laughed.

“They’d go crazy, Slave.”

I’m waiting for the Tea Party types to propose a “free market” solution to this whole intrusive TSA search thing. Let the Airlines decide whether they want to have security or not. Just let their passengers know so they can decide whether to assume that messy risk.

So airlines could decide to sell tickets for flights with or without security searches, sort of like their “refundable” vs. “non-refundable” options. My guess is that some of us would assume the risk and buy the cheaper tickets. I’ll bet there would be some empty center seats on those flights! And ample room for your AK-47 in the overhead compartment.

But I digress with my rant….

By now it was Friday night. One teen was off on her excursion. The other was heading to a friend’s house. Mistress and Slave had nothing on the schedule.

You can imagine what that meant.

The luxury of pre-dinner sex and then a nap…. After all, we had gotten up early!

Soon we were naked. Sliding against one another, me spooning against Mistress warm, firm bottom, a hand wiggling it’s way between her legs, finding her already wet and ready for me.

You know where this went, don’t you?

Later we had a picnic in front of out TV, and I got to introduce Mistress to an old, favorite movie, Nashville. Lot’s of great music and funny 70’s double-knit leisure suits.

She lay there next to me on the couch. No undies. Legs spread casually. The musky fragrance of her recently fucked cunt was a low level distraction for me. And it wasn’t long before my fingers couldn’t resist the temptation to probe and fondle.

So Mistress got her last orgasm of the evening that way, while listening to Henry Gibson and Ronee Blakely croon a country chestnut.

I’m not sure she liked the movie. But she did seem to like what my digital attention.