Mistress is currently on an orgasm embargo, imposed by our Western Correspondent in anticipation of their date this morning. So that had both of us treading a little softly last night…..
Of course, it’s not that Mistress did not test her boundaries. As promised, I “topped her off” with some oral and cock-al stimulation yesterday before we headed to work.
But then Mistress announced she was wearing her peek-a-boo tights, with that cunning little opening between her thighs. “I’ll try to stop over for worship before my lunch appointment, Slave.”
But of course, I was very legalistic about this proposal.
“Wait… what about the embargo, Mistress? I thought you were cut off for 24 hours?”
I know, I probably shouldn’t question authority. But I wouldn’t want her to cross our Western Correspondent. It could make him even less productive. In this case the “Blue Flu” would take on a whole new meaning.
But I had an idea.
“Why don’t I text him, to see if it’s OK.”
“Go for it Slave…. But sometimes it takes him a while to get going. He is on Mountain Time.”
Now, in the meantime, there were other compelling developments.
The other day I posted a CM email from an interested East Coast Dom who told a rather sexy (if grammatically impaired) tale about his proposed debauch of the Lovely Molly while her Slave watched then “cleaned up” afterwards.
Out of the blue came an email the next day from a new blogger, a“gentleman” from the West Coast, who had an interesting proposition:
Greetings.
I read your latest blog post despite my slight disappointment when I realized the title referred to her mail in box, and well not.. suffice to say it was not the box I had in mind when I clicked on the link.
Regardless I read the email from east coast guy and my first thought was 'I could do better then that.' So I'd like to. This isn't a 'bid' for her, I hadn't thought much about it, however I would like her consent and yours before I write it. I haven't been following long so I don't know either of you too well but I still think I could write something enjoyable. Any kind of crib notes on your interests (or more importantly limits) would be helpful I'm sure. If not going in blind will be just as much fun.
-Will
Well who could say “No” to such a generous offer, particularly if it gave me food for blogging too?
Sure enough, just as we were headed to work yesterday, up pops a rather compelling tale, well written and….. I’ve gotta admit…. Very hot. Mistress scrolled through it on her I-phone as I drove her to her office. Those long legs, covered with her special black tights and boots, were stretched out onto the dash. And as she read…. Well there was something about her little squirms, her thighs ever so slightly moving against one another, that made her “interest” in this tale quite apparent.
When she put down her I-phone it was with a little gasp.
“What do you think, Mistress?”
“Hot, Slave…. Very hot.”
“His blog says he’s in law enforcement…. Sounds like he might be a police officer.”
“Hmmmm…. I kinda like cops.”
I emailed Will with our words of appreciation. And Mistress sent her own message of thanks. And we agreed he would post the tale on his blog, which I am linking here. Mick, Molly and Me
But here is a little “taste”:
The phone rings. Without thought you answered it “Collins residence.”
“Put your wife on the phone” answered back a commanding voice. A submissive inspired ripple rushes through your body.
“Yes Sir” is your trained reply. You could hear traffic from my side but no other clues. You we all had plans together later that night, hours from now, and thought I might be pushing it back. You found your Mistress in her office and handed the phone to her and whispered “It’s him.”
“Thank you slave” she took the phone from you and you could tell from the look on her face that she was just curious as you. She held the phone to her ear and turned away. You know she gets annoyed when you hover over her shoulder so you return to your chores, trying to put the phone call out of mind.
Hardly any time passes before your startled by her calling out for you. You were sure she’d be held up with me longer then that. You return to the office and find her absent until she called out again. You hope you wont be punished as you hurry to the voice calling from the bedroom. “Yes Mistress.”
“He’s rescheduled, we’re to be there in an hour.” Even the way she walked impressed you. Graceful and confident looking through the drawers and then the closet, at the same time you knew her well enough to know when she was on alert. She was like a deer who knew it’d fallen in the hunters sights. “Get my shower ready”
“Yes Mistress” You stepped into the bathroom and started the water, waiting a minute before checking it. After a few more adjustments you announce it’s ready. Her hand on your shoulder startles you.
“And don’t ever make me call for you twice again” you inhale slightly more then normal at the sight of her naked form as she steps under the water. Even watching her bathe is breathtaking in your eyes, “No of course not. Any special instructions tonight?”
“You’re to wear your device” she mentions casually while white suds follow the curves of her body from her breasts down to her ankles “and fetch our collars.” She looks at you while water slides down her body and gives you a rather stern look “Did you think I meant tomorrow slave?” You snap out of it and apologize.
“I’m sorry Mistress.” You turn from your goddess and go to the closet, moving aside the coats to reveal the section reserved for items hidden from potential casual observers. You open a box and start wondering what may be in store for you tonight if anything. You ran your finger over the cock cage and went to the bed. While putting it on you immediately hoped you’d be free of it later tonight. The pattern of water falling changed. You locked it in place and your terrycloth clad Mistress approaches. She reaches out and grips your locked up package to double check it, giving it a tug. “Mmm.. Good boy” You whimper softly because that’s all it takes to make you strain against the metal, and begin your discomfort. “Go wash up.”
The story gets even better from there, so make sure you go check it out. (It’s also listed in our blog roll). It seems we could have a Pacific Correspondent to add to the UCTMW World Media Group. Watch our Ruppert Murdoch!
So where were we…..
Yes…. Mistress was dropped off at her office, charged up for the day by Will’s story.
Her parting words as she slid out of the car were “Now don’t forget to ask M about worship, Slave….”
And once I was behind my desk, I texted M:
“Mistress wants to know if she can be worshiped at lunch time.”
I though about adding a phrase that “of course, I could just tease her a bit….” but that would have been so very wrong.
At around 11 am I got a curt response:
“OK”.
And I passed that on by text to Mistress:
“Good!”. Was her response.
Sure enough, Mistress arrived right around noon for her “treatment”.
AS I closed the door and pushed the chair against it, she mentioned talking to M on the way over.
“he says I am allowed to come one more time now, but he demands a picture, Slave.”
So before applying my lips ar cage.”
nd tongue to the task at hand, I knelt and took a photo of Mistress, legs spread, her hungry little lips all pink and delicious, poking out of that opening in her tights.
I texted the shot off to M with the comment “Mistress is grateful.”
And as I bent to my task, she seemed quite ready for me. I could swear she had not one, but two quick and satisfying cum’s before I was released from service.
“I hope he won’t object to that second one, Mistress.”
“Ooops.”
At home last night, I teased her a bit. and she even offerred to let me fuck her without her coming. But that seemed rather cruel. I elected to join in her embargo.
But the sad part (for me) is that mine will end up last longer.
“remember Slave, since I will be staying home later in the morning, you need to wear your cage….”
How could I forget?
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
HIbernating
It seems that as the winter of 2010-11 proceeds, Mistress and Slave have fallen into some rather lazy habits.
It snowed here again in River City yesterday. And the temperature has not popped above 28 or so since our return from our Western outpost about 12 days ago. That and the infernal early darkness has eliminated our proclivity for outdoor exercise when we get home from work.
So what happens?
We tend to burrow into our bed, and with laptops in hand, forage through all of our favorite blogs, spreading comments and sexual energy among you , only to delight in the waves of comments and sexual energy that come back our way.
Before this winter, Mistress was only an occasional blog reader. She would peruse something I figured might be of interest if I handed it to her. Or she might have her Slave find a particular entry if given special recommendation by our Western Correspondent.
No more.
Now Mistress is thrilling to the delight of a new entry that pops up on our blog roll, as if a little present has been discovered at the toe of her Christmas stocking (not the kind with the little cunning aperture, the red one hung from the chimney with care!)
And if she sees a particularly good one, she will send a text to our WC to make sure he is on it, lickity split. Well…. not exactly, but you get the metaphor.
Last night, after I had been allowed to help her peal away her clingy black tights, and kneel for her post work worship, Mistress suggested that we rest a bit before prepping dinner. And the first thing she did was pop open her laptop to see if there was anything new from you to read.
And sure enough, there was Suzanne, back from her trip with Jay, talking about her interview with Mistress Millicent, and getting home to Tammy, who has that unopened present that he is so curious about.
“Did you ever figure out why Tammy was being punished for something he put in those weekend blogs?”
“Uhhh…. No, Mistress.”
And there was Aisha, trying to figure out how to resolve the conflict between the scheduling demands of her new prospect, and her desire to carve out some time for Sunday Church. Mistress left her own comment about her thoughts on organized religion. And Aisha seemed to take them in good spirit.
Of course Mistress marveled at the evolving story of Kelly Red, Sin and their Big Bad Dom.
“There could be some real drama here, Slave…..”
“No doubt, Mistress….”
You get the picture. You have become our alternative universe. And you are so much more interesting than the daily demands and whines of our clients, colleagues or surly teens.
“Slave…. You need to ask our friends out there a question ….. do they feel the way I do these days…. That our sex blog friends are a lot more interesting that dealing with our “real” friends?”
“Consider it done, Mistress…..”
After dinner, Mistress caught up on some of the latest posts, and then tucked her lap top away…..
“Slave…. I think it’s time for sex…”
That reminded us both of some conversation on the way home from work.
“M and I are going to have a date Thursday morning, Slave…. Is that OK with you?”
Well of course it was OK. Mistress makes the call when and if she wants to have one of her hot phone sex sessions with our Western Correspondent. No doubt they need to catch up on editorial planning for the year to come, and what better way to do it than naked and prone, on their respective beds, with Mistress’s Hitachi and his special occasion cock fully engaged.
My only downside: I suspect that I will be required to wear my cage that day, since we will necessarily be driving in separate vehicles.
But then there was a twist, as I learned when M gave Mistress a call as we neared our home. Of course, I could only hear her half of the conversation.
“So you are imposing an embargo, M?”
Hmmmm. I had forgotten about this aspect of their planning. M likes Mistress nice and desperate before their dates. A small but compelling exercise of remote control. Just talking about it seemed to make Mistress all squirmy in her leather seat.
“And exactly how long an embargo….?”
“Slave, M says I can’t come after tomorrow morning….”
“Of course Mistress…. I will do my part in making sure you follow his instructions.”
Soon we were home. There was some fresh snow to shovel, so I embarked on that task, as Mistress lingered in the car to talk with M a bit longer. Further planning, no doubt to get Mistress all stoked for Thursday morning.
Which gets me back to bed with her last night.
“I guess we need to get you a few more orgasms before the embargo begins, Mistress….”
“That would be nice, Slave….”
As we proceeded, Mistress seemed particularly desperate and wanton. It seemed she came twice as my fingers burrowed between her legs, and her fingers gripped and worked on my cock, waiting her permission to fuck her properly.
And there were more for her, as I fucked her from above, pausing from time to time to focus attention on her nipples, or to strum her clit with a finger or two as I slowly slid in and out of her velvety folds.
Was her mind focused on M’s sentence? The 24 hours of denial she would soon be serving.
Poor dear.
In any event, she seemed to get her money’s worth from her Slave’s efforts, before giving me permission to come.
And, my homework now done, soon I will slip upstairs, to “top her off”, before her sad sentence commences.
It snowed here again in River City yesterday. And the temperature has not popped above 28 or so since our return from our Western outpost about 12 days ago. That and the infernal early darkness has eliminated our proclivity for outdoor exercise when we get home from work.
So what happens?
We tend to burrow into our bed, and with laptops in hand, forage through all of our favorite blogs, spreading comments and sexual energy among you , only to delight in the waves of comments and sexual energy that come back our way.
Before this winter, Mistress was only an occasional blog reader. She would peruse something I figured might be of interest if I handed it to her. Or she might have her Slave find a particular entry if given special recommendation by our Western Correspondent.
No more.
Now Mistress is thrilling to the delight of a new entry that pops up on our blog roll, as if a little present has been discovered at the toe of her Christmas stocking (not the kind with the little cunning aperture, the red one hung from the chimney with care!)
And if she sees a particularly good one, she will send a text to our WC to make sure he is on it, lickity split. Well…. not exactly, but you get the metaphor.
Last night, after I had been allowed to help her peal away her clingy black tights, and kneel for her post work worship, Mistress suggested that we rest a bit before prepping dinner. And the first thing she did was pop open her laptop to see if there was anything new from you to read.
And sure enough, there was Suzanne, back from her trip with Jay, talking about her interview with Mistress Millicent, and getting home to Tammy, who has that unopened present that he is so curious about.
“Did you ever figure out why Tammy was being punished for something he put in those weekend blogs?”
“Uhhh…. No, Mistress.”
And there was Aisha, trying to figure out how to resolve the conflict between the scheduling demands of her new prospect, and her desire to carve out some time for Sunday Church. Mistress left her own comment about her thoughts on organized religion. And Aisha seemed to take them in good spirit.
Of course Mistress marveled at the evolving story of Kelly Red, Sin and their Big Bad Dom.
“There could be some real drama here, Slave…..”
“No doubt, Mistress….”
You get the picture. You have become our alternative universe. And you are so much more interesting than the daily demands and whines of our clients, colleagues or surly teens.
“Slave…. You need to ask our friends out there a question ….. do they feel the way I do these days…. That our sex blog friends are a lot more interesting that dealing with our “real” friends?”
“Consider it done, Mistress…..”
After dinner, Mistress caught up on some of the latest posts, and then tucked her lap top away…..
“Slave…. I think it’s time for sex…”
That reminded us both of some conversation on the way home from work.
“M and I are going to have a date Thursday morning, Slave…. Is that OK with you?”
Well of course it was OK. Mistress makes the call when and if she wants to have one of her hot phone sex sessions with our Western Correspondent. No doubt they need to catch up on editorial planning for the year to come, and what better way to do it than naked and prone, on their respective beds, with Mistress’s Hitachi and his special occasion cock fully engaged.
My only downside: I suspect that I will be required to wear my cage that day, since we will necessarily be driving in separate vehicles.
But then there was a twist, as I learned when M gave Mistress a call as we neared our home. Of course, I could only hear her half of the conversation.
“So you are imposing an embargo, M?”
Hmmmm. I had forgotten about this aspect of their planning. M likes Mistress nice and desperate before their dates. A small but compelling exercise of remote control. Just talking about it seemed to make Mistress all squirmy in her leather seat.
“And exactly how long an embargo….?”
“Slave, M says I can’t come after tomorrow morning….”
“Of course Mistress…. I will do my part in making sure you follow his instructions.”
Soon we were home. There was some fresh snow to shovel, so I embarked on that task, as Mistress lingered in the car to talk with M a bit longer. Further planning, no doubt to get Mistress all stoked for Thursday morning.
Which gets me back to bed with her last night.
“I guess we need to get you a few more orgasms before the embargo begins, Mistress….”
“That would be nice, Slave….”
As we proceeded, Mistress seemed particularly desperate and wanton. It seemed she came twice as my fingers burrowed between her legs, and her fingers gripped and worked on my cock, waiting her permission to fuck her properly.
And there were more for her, as I fucked her from above, pausing from time to time to focus attention on her nipples, or to strum her clit with a finger or two as I slowly slid in and out of her velvety folds.
Was her mind focused on M’s sentence? The 24 hours of denial she would soon be serving.
Poor dear.
In any event, she seemed to get her money’s worth from her Slave’s efforts, before giving me permission to come.
And, my homework now done, soon I will slip upstairs, to “top her off”, before her sad sentence commences.
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Mistress's In Box
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:
|
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.
Monday, January 10, 2011
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