It seems that our little experiment with CollarMe.com has played it self out. The emails volume has diminished now that the “fresh meat” label seems to have worn off the modest posting, which simply refers “shoppers” to the UCTMW website for a description of our interests and background.
Of course, this was only a “dabble”. Mistress remains quite taken by the charms and well advertised talents of our Western Correspondent, though I think she enjoyed his apparent concern about where all this was headed. And she can get a little frustrated about the prospects of ever getting some first hand experience with his “special occasion cock”, which can sometimes bring to mind the last passage of the Great Gatsby. You know, the bit about the “American Dream” that recedes before us, always slightly out of reach.
At some point, let’s hope Mistress does get her fill.
But, like Aisha and SFP, it’s hard not to share a few of the more ham handed approaches by those trying to take up the tough task of breaking Mistress to their will.
Of course, I like to think Mistress has high standards. And basic grammar skills seem critical to her. Quite a few of the applicants seemed to fall far below that threshold. Starting with the inability to spell out “you”, when a simple “u” was so much more direct. As in “Do U chat on Yahoo”, from some dude in LA.
Of course, there are also certain dimensional issues that Mistress considers deal breakers. Why were so many of these would be Doms shorter than her? Not that Mistress, at about 5’6”, is an Amazon. But she had trouble with the concept of towering over her Dom.
Facial hair seems to be a big thing to in the CollarMe.com world. And Mistress can see her way around a neatly trimmed Moustache or beard on the "right" face. (The WC has been known to sport one). But what’s with these scraggly beards, and the guy with the little pointy chin beard and muscle shirt. Colonel Sanders meets the Fonz! Not her thing.
Mistress just giggled.
Some also had technological challenges. The link didn’t work. They had to be told how to google “Under Contract for My Wife”. And there was one guy from a nearby City who seemed convinced that he had to sign up to be a member simply to read our adventures. “Can you give me a hint?”, he asked.
Uhhh. No.
Geography was a challenge for some of these fellows. One asked if we were interested in relocating to the Boston area to serve him. Sorry, Pal. Thanks for the offer, but you could never make me a Patriots fan.
And some guys seem just plain confused. When it was pointed out that we were not interested in a bisexual experience, a local applicant denied that he was, even though the mini-profile attached to his email continued to insist otherwise.
But I could tell that the “pool” had been exhausted when we received for the 2nd time what appeared to be an identical email from a guy on the East Coast. I will repeat it here only because it has a certain primal charm that some of you might appreciate:
hello...how are you both.
I hope we can be friends.....I am a creative guy with a wild imagination and a thirst for pleasure. I am happy to possess her to be free to use her to satisfy my urges and desires.
I like to explore one's boundaries and take my Submissive to the edge.
I hope you both need a real men to give you the pleasure you need and deserve.I'd love to fuck you while your man watch, I would teach you to be my obedient servant.
I would even let your man clean your pussy of My warm cum after I fuck you. ........Would you like that? Let me know.
can you both imagine,We were sitting around watching TV , your woman came downstairs after having had her bath. She was dressed in a tiny black dress I had not seen before, which showed a lot of bustand a lot of leg. She also wore black high heeled shoes . She looked absolutely gorgeous."How do I look?" she asked, asking me "are you ready to fuck me?" "You look wonderful" I said ,"Good" she replied, we began to undress each other .
i took charge., told you to get on your kness, kneel down and get your woman's cunt ready for me while she sucks my hard cock". you did as you were told, and after a while,i told you to have a good look at your wife's mouth sliding up and down my cock."your woman is a terrific cock sucker isn't she?" i asked. "Oh of course,you replied. your wife cut in spitefully, before returning to worship my dick.
i told you to bring over a chair and sit by the bed to get a good view of what was to happen. you sat down ,you lay down on the bed. i got on top, and she wrapped her arms round my neck and her legs round my back.
your woman said to you, " watch and learn how a women needs to be fucked""With that i rammed my cock into your wife with one thrust."Oh " she cried out "That feels so fucking good, i was showing you how it's done ,i was pounding into her, she kept eye contact with you the whole time.
she kept telling you,"Oh , he has really mastered me, he has made me addicted to his cock. I am his cock sucking slut, and he is my Master. I will do anything he wants, I am going to take his cum into my belly, and you are going to see it happen!" she begged me to fuck her harder and never stop.
After what seemed like forever fuck, i emptied my cum into youe willing woman. She loved it with pleasure, and thanked me for a wonderful fuck.
After we both had calmed down, your woman grabbed you by the hair and pulled you towards her's cum-filled cunt..........."Lick it out.she said What you can do right now , is get on your knees in front of me and lick my Master's beautiful cum out of my cunt ."
you knelt before her and began to lick her. "Get used to the taste, " she told you, "you are going to be eating a lot more of that in future".
UH,
Top of Form
Bottom of Form
Top of Form
Bottom of Form
Top of Form
Bottom of Form
Top of Form
Bottom of Form
OK…. This gets poor grades for grammar and spelling.
But I must confess the scenario has a certain visceral appeal to old Mick. And I suspect with the right person in the role of the Dom, that Mistress would be more than happy to play her well satisfied role in this little drama.
I am curious to find out what she thinks when I go wake her up now.
Before I get back to our normal kinky sex, leavened with humor, programming on the UCTMW channel this morning, it’s impossible for me not to reference the events in Tucson yesterday.
For those of us who were sentient in 1963 and 1968 (and I know some of you were not around or paying attention then) the bulletins and fractured, conflicting accounts from the press that we endured yesterday afternoon bring back sad and painful memories. And a good bit of irrational anger.
Molly and I have spent a good deal of time with politicians on the left over the years, and at events of the type horribly disrupted yesterday. And now I have a daughter who is on the staff of a prominent elected official in DC. And though she was not around in 1963 or 1968, my daughter was sobbing over the phone, when I talked to her about this yesterday, afraid for her friends and colleagues. So it’s hard for us not to think of all this lunacy – the hate, the flying bullets, the chaos, the screams, the death – and wonder what it means for the future.
When it’s cold like it was yesterday here in River City – and I mean pretty danged cold – 18 to 25 degrees most of the day – Mistress likes to work out at a local health club. And her Slave happily joins her on the weekends.
Of course, our Western Correspondent is quite familiar with Mistress’s routines, and yesterday he saw her plans to head to the gym as his first opportunity to deploy the toy he had sent her for Christmas – that little vibrating ball, and it’s remote control.
(I suppose I need to get a photo of the clever little device to display for you here. But it’s a simple if colorful item. The vibrating cylinder at the end of a wire. And a remote control unit that is about three inches long and two inches wide, that has a pretty variable colored light display that changes based on the speed of the vibrations. Very cute Mistress had instructed me to find and insert the proper batteries, so I had become familiar with the clever device’s operations.)
Here’s how things developed.
I had returned from dropping off my cute grandson after some play time, and we were about to head to the gym, when Mistress told me that M wanted to talk.
“Of course, Mistress….”
I excused myself, grabbed my laptop, and headed downstairs, switching on CNN to monitor the grim news from Tucson. I figured that Mistress was up on the bed, writhing to the tune of M’s seductive voice and the compelling vibrations of her trusty Hitachi.
But I was surprised when Mistress came downstairs only about 20 minutes later, ready for the gym.
“Did you get to play, Mistress?”
“No Slave…. But I told him I would call from the car…. And I have been instructed to wear my little “present” from him.”
“Ahhhh…..”
Mistress dialed up M on our way, and they conferred about how she would deploy the device.
“I brought some tight work out shorts, M, to keep that thing from sliding down, or out dangling against my leg. ….. I have to remember to keep the light side turned against my body, so no one can see the flashing lights through my shorts….”
Now that could be a little embarrassing.
Once at the gym, we went to our respective locker rooms to change. The next time I saw Mistress she was mounting one of those elliptical trainer devices. I was about 15 feet away, on a stationary bike. A bank of TV screens were deployed in front of us. More conflicting updates from Tucson. Football, basketball, etc.
But the real show I wanted to pay attention to was going to come from Mistress.
On the surface, she seemed pretty much the usual: well conditioned, pumping away at the machine, a damp glow popping out on her forehead and on her strong shapely thighs. She was the aloof but hot head turner that men glance at furtively as they go about their own business. And there was a man on the machine right next to her, who was probably a bit younger than me, and a bit bulkier too. He seemed to give her a sideways glance from time to time. No wonder.
I did notice that Mistress had her I-phone propped on the little panel in front of her. Monitoring text messages from M? Could be.
From time to time I could see a little extra strain on Mistress’s sweat streaked face, but it was ….. ambiguous …. hard to read. But she never broke that focused, don’t fuck with me look, as she seemed to monitor the video screens, glancing from time to time at her I-phone.
After her 30 minutes were complete, and I was also in my cool down phase, Mistress slid off the machine, gathered up her phone and came over to me.
“Well, Mistress…..?”
“It was….Interesting, Slave……”
She leaned into my ear….
“It worked, Slave…..”
“You came that way…..”
“Uhhhh….. you could say that….. I will share details later, and maybe give you a taste.”
Naturally, I was anxious for all the sordid details, dutiful reporter that I am. And if there had been a private space about, I would have happily fallen to my knees, slid down her sweaty shorts, and tasted the aftermath of this debauch. But alas, I would have to wait until after showers and the drive home.
But once home, as we were preparing for our own little session, I got the details….
“How many times, Mistress…..”
“At least three, Slave…..”
“Wow…..And how did that work….”
“The vibrations, were inside…. But those tight pants, and the motion, they all combined together…..it was …. Pretty hot.”
“Very devious, Mistress….”
“ Of course, M kept texting me, asking for progress reports. And at some point, a picture of his cock popped up on my screen.”
Ahhh…. Some external mental stimulation as well.
“That guy next to you, do you think he saw that picture….”
“I thought of that…. It’s possible Slave…. How embarrassing….”
“So how did you keep going, even after having an orgasm….”
“It was a challenge …. I probably slowed down a bit after each one.”
But around that time, M was also on the phone, and I enjoyed hearing Mistress report these events to him. No doubt he was as pleased with his little Slave’s obedience as I was impressed.
But there were other things to do, now that Mistress had been so thoroughly stimulated.
“Get out my equipment Slave… it’s time to fuck you in the ass.
“Ohhh…. I didn’t realize….”
She reinforced her orders, and I quickly found the equipment she needed: harness, dildo, lube.
She slid into her harness, made the appropriate adjustments.
“Now, get into position….”
“No warm up cuddles, Mistress…..”
It had been a while and this was happening very fast. Yikes.
Ohhh…. Is this A little too abrupt for you, Slave…. “
She slid into bed next to me, kissing and fondling for a moment. Then, just as abruptly, climbed from our bed.
“I need to get one thing….”
She strode into our closet, only to emerge with her riding crop.
Wow. Things were getting very Domme-ish at Camp Collins.
“Roll onto your stomach.”
I did, and the blows began to rain down in quick succession.
I was whiney, herky jerky on the bed…. I was not mentally prepared for punishment, and well …. It stung like hell as she patterned my ass with her crop.
“I think you know what these are for Slave…”
I did, but she was quick to explain anyway. I won’t go into the details now. Just suffice it to say that if given the opportunity to enter a plea, there would have been a number of affirmative defenses, including entrapment….
But in this case, justice was swift, and true and not to be delayed or denied with legalistic defense.
Once Mistress was done with the crop, she had other intentions for my bottom.
“Now get in position, Slave…..”
I quickly complied, positioning a pillow under my hips. And Mistress went to me that way, sliding her hard plastic “cock” into my ass with a determined thrust. Then pumping away at me, until I was gasping, and she was coming hard with her own moan of conquest and shudders of release.
“I think you liked that Mistress….”
“I did Slave….”
She pulled out of me, tossing her strap-on onto the floor for her Slave to clean later.
“Now why don’t you go put in your device.” (our aneros).
Naturally, I complied, and the clever device had my cock hard and jerking for her in no time. Fortunately, I soon found myself with permission to fuck Mistress properly. I think I was able to reward her with a few more orgasms before I was begging for permission to come.
Thankfully, she was merciful. I did not have to ask twice.
We went to a movie later, True Grit, which was definitely worth seeing. And on the way home, Mistress asked if my bottom as still sore.
“No Mistress…. It hurt like hell when you were doing it, but that pain goes away fast…. In fact, maybe you will get a taste of it in the morning …. While it’s all still fresh in my mind….”
“ Ahhh…. I Almost forgot about Switch Day, Slave….”
Somehow Molly and Mick made it through that first ugly week of the new year, bouncing back from their long car trip and settling back into our work-a-day domestic routine here in River City.
And by Friday morning, Slave was back into his early morning rhythm of rising before 6 am to blog, then waking Mistress at 7 am with the hopes of some indulgence, if she was pleased with my “homework”.
Of course, By Friday morning I was particularly amped up, after a day in the cage, and then coming home to a very satisfied Mistress following her phone sex date with the WC, and her favorite power tool.
After I had lapped and suctioned Mistress to one suitable climax, she reached for my cock to see whether any extra effort might be required on her part before I was allowed to fuck her.
(Of course, there was the risk that if too much effort was required, she might tell me to wait until later).
Fortunately, she was more than pleased.
“Oh my, Slave… what a nice and hard cock you have.”
Uhhh, yeah. So true.
And I was then allowed to put it to it’s highest and best use, taking an approprite amount of pre-work day time to fuck Mistress and produce all those little lovely moans of satisfaction that are music to my ear.
And by the time she gave me permission to come…. Well …. Let’s just say I am glad she did not hesitate, because that train was already leaving the station.
It’s been cold here this week …. Not crazy single digits cold, but cold enough to put a chill in you that lasts long after that first cup of coffee at work.
So Mistress was all wrapped up on the way to work.: Her over the knee boots. Her black tights. And some lovely turquoise leather gloves that kept her fingers warm. They also make a lovely contrast to the black ensemble as they rested there on her legs, stretched out onto the dash as I chauffeured her to work. I made sure I got a photo to take to share with our loyal readers, who can’t seem to get enough of Mistress in her lovely boots. Though maybe I am just projecting….
Mistress’s work day domme costume somehow got me thinking about a post from about a week ago and a response from one reader – Foxy was it you? – who said that her inspiration for dabbling in female domination came from her early exposure to Wonder Woman….. you know, the buxom superhero with the golden lasso and it’s special mind control powers.
I must say she had a certain appeal to me too…. Though I am not sure my pre-pubescent brain went directly to “god, would I love to be at that Broad’s mercy.” And of course, for the switch’s among us, there were more than a few scenes where some evil villain (or villainess) turned the tables on Diana Prince , aka, Wonder Woman, and trussed her up in some “inescapable” bondage. Often with her own lasso.
Of course, Foxy and I weren’t the only ones to latch onto Wonder Woman in our formative years as a source of kinky inspiration. According to this link wonder woman(which has some lovely illustrations to go with it). Wonder Woman was created by a fellow named Charles Moulton, who also was the inventor of the lie detector (and isn’t that what the golden lasso did too?). He is quoted as saying that:
“Wonder Woman satisfies the subconscious, elaborately disguised desire of males to be mastered by a woman who loves them.”
So when Mistress dons that Dommish costume for me, so much more stylish than WW’s red white and blue glorified bikini, she is my own private Wonder Woman, mastering her devoted Slave.
Part of yesterdays costume were those tricked out tights. So when Mistress stopped at my office around 5pm before we headed to a birthday celebration for one of her work colleagues at a local watering hole, Mistress was readily accessed for worship.
I slid the chair to my door…. Spread the absorbent blanket (by now redolent with Mistress’s alluring musk), and fell to my knees.
Yum.
After she was satisfied, she rose to primp a bit, and sent a text to our Western Correspondent, to keep him up to date on the day’s developments.
She showed me the screen of her I-phone. I couldn’t help but notice that she had sent M a shot of her turquoise gloves, with this clever message:
“Would love to wrap these gloves around your cock.”
So maybe Mistress does not have a golden lasso. But the gloves could certainly take her a long way in the Super Sexual Hero milieu.
