HNT/ Kinky Krisp

It’s the Holidays, and even our strange little kinky Blogger community has to take a break from egging each other on to new sexual exploits, and take notice.

It wouldn’t be the Holidays in the Collins household without decadent tempting sweets lying about the house, to help us all lower our centers of gravity as we get ready for a ski vacation with our surly teens at our secret mountain hideaway. What’s the difference between bending your knees and just letting them buckle?

Earlier this week, SFP recruited good old Mick for the cookie-palooza promoted by a variety of our sub sisters.

My guess is that I’m just affirmative action window dressing – but I’m game. Hopefully, I  am a  credit to my gender when it comes to larding up family and friends for the holidays.

There’s just one problem:  While Mistress has a profound sweet tooth, she also has a wheat allergy. So when Mick is called on to make a desert it has to be wheat-less.

I’ve perfected in my own haphazard way an Apple Crisp that gets Mistress salivating even as it warms in the oven. And I’m sharing it with you here with a few illustrations from the one I prepared Sunday evening for our Christmas dinner with extended family here in River City.

First, grease a pan or glass dish and fill it with apple chunks: a pan that’s about 15” x 8” will take about 4 to 6 apples, depending on size. I like to have a variety of apple categories available to make the taste a little more complex. Sort of like one of Aisha’s and D’s munches with that strange mix of kinksters coming in various ages, dimensions and preferences, all ogling one another.  Pears can go into the mix too.

Here is a picture of what the apples should look like once cored and chunked. I’m way to lazy to skin the apples. I must have gotten that from our WC.

Once the apples are arrayed in the dish or pan, pore about ½ cup of water over them. 

Now would be a good time to pre-heat the oven to 375 degrees. (Higher if at altitude of 6500 feet or more.)

Of course you could just bake the apples. They would be tasty and healthy. But then you’d miss the sugar and butter.

That’s coming next.

Get out a mixing bowl, and fill it with one cup of brown sugar, one cup of refined white sugar, and two cups of thick cut oats.

To the mix add a cup of nuts: walnuts or peanuts or cashews will do,  but not too salty, unless you are into that. 

Then add a teaspoon of nutmeg and two teaspoons of cinnamon.

Take one stick of butter and soften it up. 30 seconds in the microwave does it for me. But you can melt it in a sauce pan too.

Pour the butter into the bowl with all the other stuff, and mix it roughly together with a wooden spoon --- you know the kind that can also double for an implement to redden a sub’s bottom. (D’s risotto spoon would do).

Once the goop is all blended together, and you have most of the lumps out of the brown sugar, it looks sort of like this:

The final step is to spread your oaty, sugary mix over the apples, trying your best to get it evenly distributed, corner to corner.  It will look like this:

Cover the pan with a sheet of aluminum foil, and stick it in the oven for about 30 minutes.  Then remove the aluminum foil and let it cook for another 30 minutes, crisping the top.

It can sit in the oven for a while after that, cooling a bit.  The final product will look like this:

Dish your crisp onto a plate. Serve it with Ice Cream if this is not sweet enough for you.

Of course, now I’m hungry, and there are leftovers from Sunday sitting in the fridge. I wonder if Mistress will let me smear it on her lovely tummy and suck it off?


______________________________

Amazingly, Mistress fell for this little stunt.

"Anything for blog material, Slave."


Of course, I warmed a plate of the leftover concoction a bit in the microwave first. Cold crisp on Mistress's warm tummy would have gotten Slave into big trouble. 

"Maybe I should tie your hands behind your back and make you eat it that way, Slave."


I suppose that would have made it all the more delicious.


And when I had lapped up the last delicious morsel, and my lips and tongues moved lower to pleasure Mistress for being such a good sport,  the sugary, cinnamon taste of the crisp belended Oh so wonderfully with the taste of Mistress's delectable secretions.


"What tastes better Slave, me or the crisp?"


"Well it's a close call, but you, of course, Mistress."


I may want to have a little more before heading to work this morning.

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Slave Gets Extended Cage Time

First off, we want to say thanks to Suzanne at “All Mine” for the very kind shout out to the team here at UCTMW in her blog yesterday. She made a special mention of our Western Correspondent’s recent tutorial on breaking in a Slave to Ass fucking. See her post here:ALL MIne

Slave is not obsessive about blog stats, but I thought I would check this morning to see if Suzanne’s suggestion caused more eyes to find us yesterday. Sure enough, there were more than 257 page views of the WC’s clever tutorial, and more than 1000 page views of UCTMW yesterday, about 20% more than normal.

I’m thinking that there now may be more than a few extra broken in ass’s out there in the blog-o-verse, after their Dom’s or Domme’s decided to play along with M’s “How to” guide.

Of course, I suspect I will soon be hearing from the WC’s union steward, asking for some unwarranted salary increase. Ah well. I guess that’s just the price tag of success.

Suzanne, you should know that we’ve been keeping track and doing a little “Ohh-ing and Ahh-ing” about you, Jay and Tammy. In particular, Molly and the WC have been wondering about how you get Tammy to be so utterly submissive to you….You have a very compelling control over him. And now Jay is into the act too….Yikes.

Maybe you can get some product placement royalties if you promote the diaper brand you’ve been using.

Here at the Collins Household things were a little slow …. At least for Mick yesterday. After all that patting ourselves on the back yesterday about “quantity”, Mistress decided to impose an Abstinence Day on me. And I probably deserved it.

On Monday, Mistress finally received her package from M: One of those clever little insert able eggs that Aisha and Nilla have been writing about of late, but with a controller attached by wire.

I know M has plans for her compulsory use of that little toy. It was my assignment to get her batteries yesterday and …. Well….. Slave forgot.

Mistress already had the upper hand on me, since it was a cage day for me. I had been instructed to lock the little steel contraption on in the morning, since we were driving separately.

And because Mistress had to be out the door unusually early, we did not have time for our normal sexual activity.

Not that Mistress was bereft of sexual pleasure. That would be wrong, wouldn’t it?

As we showered, I embraced her warm, wet body as she rinsed her hair. My fingers dipped between her legs. AS well trained as they’ve become, it took only a few moments for me to have Mistress shuddering in my arms, a quickie orgasm to help brace her for the cold 8 degree River City morning.

I texted Mistress from my office about an hour later, suggesting that she stop by after her breakfast meeting. And sure enough, she popped in at around 9:30 am.

And our regular readers know what happened next. Mistress was soon in her “throne”, Slave was on his knees, and the grazing began. When She was satisfied – I think there were two involved because Slave was still hungry for her after the first one – I took a photo of her smug smile and spread legs and texted it to M:

“Breakfast”

About an hour later he replied:

“Wow, that’s early.”

And I was back at him:

“She has her needs.”

“Yes…. She certainly does.”

When I got home, around 7 pm, Mistress was still at the gym, to return a bit later as I was fixing dinner for us and the surly teens. The dreaded “stir fry”, in which Slave includes whatever her finds in the fridge.

Mistress knew the teens were hungry, and gave me a little kiss of greetings.

“I guess we will just have to keep the cage on for a while.”

And it stayed on until around 9:30 pm, through dinner and some Christmas Card addressing.

That’s when Mistress asked about her batteries. And I realized my error.

“Well there need to be consequences Slave…. Since I’m rather tired from spinning…. Maybe we cancel sex for this evening…”

She eyed the cage…. Of course I was naked, standing before her as she lounged in bed….

“Maybe you just keep the cage on and we will discuss this in the morning.”

Oh dear. And of coure, my cock gave off that pavlovian twitch when Mistress gets all dommy with me.

But I knew the cage could get a tad uncomfortable through the night…. When the cock inevitably stretches out as a result of who knows what dream activity.

“But how would it feel to have the hard, cold cage pressed up against your soft, warm bottom through the night Mistress….”

I knew I was treading on thin ice here….manipulative behavior could lead to treble damages… or three times the sentence with that dreaded cage.

But to my relief, she relented, apparently favoring her own comfort to my punishment.

“”all right, pitiful Slave… I will unlock you.”

So by now its been a dreadful 36 hours or so since Slave was allowed to come. Demand is more than sufficiently pent up.

So I know you will understand if I quickly post this sad tale and head up stairs to wake my sleeping Mistress.

Quantity vs. Duration

Mistress has an early curtain call this am… so not much time for me to complete my homework and make sure she has a good start for her day.

So how about a few words on something we’ve been discussing with our Western Correspondent of late: quantity vs. quality.

M often suggests to Molly that we have sex than most married couples he knows… well, to add a little hyperbole… he says we do it more often than any couple in America.  Probably a stretch…. But I wonder if there’s a Guiness entry on the subject.

M has often shared with Mistress the details and impressive length of his “epic” sexual encounters with his wife, B. Two hours seems to be standard issue for them… with lots of position switching, spanking, Hitachi using thrown in. But all this does not necessarily happen on a daily basis in the Western Correspondent’s field office.

 In contrast, the Collins do have frequent sexual encounters here at the Home Office.  But of much briefer durations.

Yesterday alone …. There was some hot conventional sex when I woke Mistress, during and after she read the blog featuring her reddened ass.  Lets say that lasted 15 minutes.

I was told to wear my cage, because Mistress was going to linger at home a little longer than normal – she had arranged for a phone date with M.

Which also turned out to be a “quickie”. On Friday they must have gone on for 75 minutes. Yesterday …. Only 15 or so…. One measly Hitachi induced barn burner for Mistress.

“He had been shut out over the weekend because his in-laws were in town, Slave….So B stayed home a bit longer than normal to perform her maritial duties.”

“Well it was about time, Mistress.”

So after M got Mistress off, B got M off.

There is some symmetry for you.

Of course that was not all for Mistress yesterday.

She stopped by my office for some post lunch worship. I took the attached photo, and sent a more explicit one to M for his entertainment.

After Mistress came, her lugs squeezing my head with her final little burst of lust she commiserated.

“It’s a shame you have the cage on Slave, or I’d give my work-a-day cock some special attention.”

Yes, it was a shame.

And that was another quickie: no more than about 10 minutes from the time Mistress stripped off a black boot and one leg of her black tights, to the point of costume reassembly and she’s kissing me goodbye and heading for the elevator.

Then, at home around 7 pm, she had another worship cum, as I expressed my gratitude for unlocking my cage. Let’s call that 5 minutes of delight, before she served the family dinner – some lovely lasagna she had whipped up that morning while awaiting M’s call.

After some TV, there was some lush and luxuriant good night sex – a little longer this time – let’s say 20 minutes of mutual stimulation. A good time for all.

That’s not an untypical day for us here in the Collins household. Slave got two “permissions to come”.  Mistress gets a few more “bonus” orgasms thrown in, as you might expect due to her status.

But aside from the weekend Switch sessions, and those wonderful Saturday afternoons when Mistress chooses to fuck her Slave in the ass, we rarely hit the 45 minute mark.

Does that make us lazy pretenders to sexual glory?

Wondering what our readers think on the issue of quantity vs. duration.

Mistress Whines On Switch Day

Mistress was a bit recalcitrant yesterday when it came time to submit to my exercise of switch privileges.

The whining began as I collected some tools for her restraint.

She eyed the long towel strips and suspected – as she should have – that my plan was to spread her legs and tie them off to the corners of the bed.

“But it’s so cold, Slave…. I don’t want to be uncovered.”

I rolled my eyes.

I knew this would be a challenge. But, ever the good Slave, even on switch days, I readjusted.

Her hands were linked together with our red cuffs, over head, and tied off to the ring at the center of the head of our bed. But as I shifted to help her, my elbow must have come into contact with her delicate skin just a bit….

“Owww…. Your elbow pinched my nipple, Slave….”


Setting aside the fantastical notion that my conventionally blunt elbow could do ANY pinching, I clucked in faux sympathy.

“Oh dear …. sorry Mistress … maybe I should just get out the nipple clamps and do the job properly?”

“You wouldn’t …. Those hurt so much…..”

Well I should have. But once again Slave was a little too focused on pleasuring Mistress than taking advantage.

We solved the “cold” problem but tying her ankles together, so they could remain safely tucked under the sheets.

And then I cuddled next to her, using my warm hands to softly caress her now squirming body.

I do think she likes the restraint part, and the curiosity about what comes next. She was on her tummy, and her ass was squirming so wantonly against my hand and the bed beneath her. I wondered if she could work herself to an orgasm without any other stimulation.

I’m filing that away for another occasion.

That’s when I began to spank her.

“Ouch … that hurts, Slave.”

“Stop the whining Mistress…. You know you love it …. And that it’s not nearly as bad as if your friend the WC were administering the punishment.”

The thought of that seemed to make her squirm all the more. Was her ass actually rising up to meet my hand?

“You’re probably right, Slave.”

After her bottom was nice and red, I snapped some photos…. Then reached for her new power tool, the one she had broken in with M on Friday morning.

With her legs tied together I had to slide it between her thighs with a little effort…. And it drove her wild.

“Is this what you’ve been waiting for, Mistress?”

“You know it is Slave.”

Her thighs and ass were flexing with abandon, trying to squeeze all the pleasure she could out of the little device.

And as she worked herself into a frenzy, my lips grazed on the delicious surface of her neck and shoulders… Yum.

I could tell she was trying to build slowly…. Not wanting to fall off the cliff too swiftly… getting her money’s worth, so to speak, from my attention.

But ultimately she succumbed to the inevitable compulsion of the churning Magic Wand…. Moaning, bucking, her hips rising up off the bed, almost (but not quite) trying to avoid the relentless vibrations of her new toy.

But my hand pressed its advantage, bringing the tool up to meet her now satisfied cunt until she was begging me to stop.

“Oh… had enough have we, Mistress….”

But of course I accommodated her, switching it off and tucking it back under the ebd.

“I want my cock now, Slave….”

“I think that can be arranged, Mistress.”