UCTMW Management Responds to Shocking Workplace Injury

We were lying in bed here at the UCTMW World Headquarters.

Mistress had been worshipped upon my return from work, as is her right and expectation. 

The kids had been fed, all back under the roof after their three day weekend. 

We planned to watch the 1^st episode of this season’s Big Love (you know, the adventures of  the narcissistic, messianic Morman State Senator, and his three increasingly schizoid wives). Then, if Mistress was in a generous mood,  Mick would get his first opportunity to fuck her since our rather extravagant “punishment” session on Sunday morning.

All in all, it was a good plan for a quiet evening at home.

Then (sound the claxon horns),  we received a text message about some potentially critical problems at our Western field office.

As Mistress peered at her I-phone, she expressed her surprise with a guffaw.

“The Western Correspondent says he was out riding his bike for the last hour and a half, and now his cock is frozen…”

She tapped away, apparently asking for a more complete report.  His response came quickly.

“Here are more details, Slave:  23 degrees; high winds; he had jeans on, but no underwear.  And he must have forgotten to zip up his fly.”

“The winds was so strong he was sliding sideways on ice….”

Now I was the one laughing.

“Just remind him that our UCTMW Employee Handbook specifically says that we are not responsible for frozen dicks when an employee exposes himself to below freezing temperatures without wearing his underoos.”

I write one hell of an Employee Handbook, in case you need one.  The key is to anticipate of all the potential shit storms that could befall an employer, then figure a way to make all of them the employees' fault!

I was trying to pay attention to “Big Love”, disappointed that all that multi-partner sex shown in the earlier seasons had now been replaced with lots of angst and finger pointing among the wives.  Clearly this Series jumped the shark once the Prophet met his ignominious end.

But our Western Correspondent continued to provide Mistress with updates.

“Sounds like it’s not responding to treatment, Slave….. still frozen.”

I could sense an expensive workers’ comp claim on the horizon. And our defense would have to be based on the reckless behavior of our Western Correspondent, out on yet another frolic and detour.

Could he argue that this frigid bike ride was in the scope of his duties? I suppose it would be possible.

Sometimes when he calls and directs Mistress to deploy her power tool, he is out cruising around on his bike. He could characterize as her consent to such work / recreation field trips. And our health insurer has been pushing all this “Wellness” crap-olla, as an incentive to get our lofty premiums down. Certainly after hours exercise might be described as "just following orders."

One way or the other, I can see him sweet talking some dumpy  administrative hearing officer in an ill fitting pants suit that he was just following company policy as he went on that frigid, cock risking bike ride last night.

No doubt she will want to adjourn to her chambers in order to personally inspect the damaged appendage, in her effort  to confirm whether  his claim for permanent partial disability is firm or flaccid.

Our final line of defense may have to be that he was out of uniform. Our correspondents are not expected to go commando while on duty, without clear instructions from the publisher. It says so in the Handbook. Page 35, footnote 13. He can look it up.

“Slave, I’m telling him that he better not have done any permanent damage to the special occasion cock before I have the chance to try it out.”

“That would be tragic Mistress…. Do you think he has a microwave big enough to fit it…. That might work.”

At some point, M’s pleas for sympathy petered out, so to speak.

And when the show ended, Mistress, who’s mind likely had been muddled by thoughts of a frozen cock-sicle warming between her full and sensual lips, asked if I was prepared to fuck her.

“I am at your disposal, Mistress.”

Let’s just hope that our Western Correspondent has thawed and is now on the mend.

MIstress Faces the Music

UCTMW ENTERPRISES, LLC WORLD HEADQUARTERS
RIVER CITY, USA

MEMORANDUM

FROM: MICK COLLINS, EXECUTIVE EDITOR
TO: M, WESTERN CORRESPONDENT

SUBJECT: FOLLOWING YOUR INSTRUCTIONS.

When we talked Saturday, you gave me some instructions about how our Publisher should be handled on our weekly “switch day”, when the Publisher is required under my peculiar employment agreement to submit to the sort of treatment that she can deploy as my employer / owner every other day of the week.

Of course, what caused me to follow the directions of our lowest ranked employee is a bit of a mystery I suppose. Let’s chalk it up to the peculiarities of the collective bargaining agreement your representatives at the Teamsters Union recently negotiated, and that fact that our Publisher, Molly Collins, said I should take your direction on the matter.

It seems she has a special arrangement with you, the exact terms of which are only made available on a “need to know” basis. She conceded the error of her ways by failing to bring that little insertable vibrator you had sent her when she went to work on Friday. So she conceded that there would be consequences, and that her Executive Editor was expected to be your instrument in the matter.

Or it could be that I am just a corporate drone at heart, despite my lofty, middle management title here at UCTMW, and simply like to follow orders.

In any event, I stopped by the local hardware store on Saturday and picked up the tools you had chosen: a bag of wooden clothes pins, just like my mother used to more vanilla purposes all those years ago.

Our Publisher was a bit on edge Saturday evening, trying to force me to tell her what was instore. But, like you, I was able to keep the procedure we planned under wraps until zero hour on Monday morning. We are a model of corporate security, as compared to those folks at Verizon. Big surprise…. They are launching the I-Phone!

Our Boss read the morning papers, and caught up on our blog and those of some selected competitors (I am a little concerned that she may ask me to get one of those ball gags Suzanne deployed during the Steelers game… Mistress does sometimes get accessory envy). But then, she knew, it was time for her to face the music.

I pulled out the little red leather cuffs, abd she immediately rolled away, huddled under the covers….

“But it’s so cold, Slave…..”

I recall that she texted a similar message to you at about that time, sort of an appeal for mercy. Of course, it went un-ruled upon. No Stay was granted. No doubt you were still in bed, recovering from a night out with some of your UCTMW office interns, or maybe your new shop steward, regaling them with stories of past deployments of the “special occasion cock”.

Ultimately, Mistress rolled over and allowed me to attach her wrist cuffs, linked together in front.

Since our teens were away, it seemed a waste to keep her sequestered in our bedroom.

“We’re going for a walk , Mistress….”

“But it’s so cold….”

Argggh.

I wrapped her in my terry bathrobe, knotted it in front for her. After she slipped into some slippers, I led her downstairs, where I had already pulled out a big wide upholstered chair.

“I think you need a good spanking first Mistress, to warm you up and remind you to follow M’s simple requests in the future.

I sat, then pulled her over my lap. She wriggled into place.

“But I might fall off, Slave.”

“Don’t worry, Mistress, you are in good hands.”

I had a good grip on her, and then proceeded to give her a nice, hard spanking.

You should have heard the complaints. The whines, mewls, all the “that hurts”. It put me in mind to pack her up in a trunk and ship her off to you for some more systemic training. Once a week switch sessions will never really condition her for this sort of punishment.

But I tried to put all the moaning and groaning out of mind and kept on task. Soon her bottom was a nice cherry red, and, surprise, surprise, the armoa wafting from between her legs was all too delicious. The Pungent Publisher. As a probing finger confirmed, she was like a little slut in heat. And I think my suggestion that she consider how it might go if you were the one spanking her seemed to add to her concupiscence.

“I think you’ve had the full benefit of this phase of your punishment, Mistress. Now it’s time for round two.”

She gave a little sigh, and we went back upstairs together. She must have “warmed up”, since she did not ask for the robe again.

“Now what, Slave?”

I had already taken two clothes pins out of the bag.

“This is M’s part, actually, Mistress….. he says I should put one of these on each of your nipples, then make you use the Hitachi to bring yourself off three times, removing them as you hit number three.”

“Ohhhh….. at lest your not going to put those all over me….”

“We’ll save the rest for some other occasion, Mistress.”

First I sucked on each nipple, making them pop to life, allowing the pins good purchase.

She lay back, arms over her head, as I connected the little wooden wonders to her right nipple.

“Owww …. Yow,,,,, hurts, Slave….”

But it hardly seemed unbearable. She didn’t whine nearly so much when I connected the second one. Maybe it was because she was already entranced by the little power tool lying next to her on the bed.

Usually it’s the Slave who wields the tool in these moments when she uses it when we are together. But I was following M’s orders and, he made it clear that Mistress was in charge of her own pleasuring.

She went to work with a fierce concentration. Pressing the device exactly where it would have it’s highest and best impact. None of that whirling around and teasing that this Slave enjoys when I am at the controls.

And soon she was at her first, hips rising, head thrown back, moaning with release.

There was no break at all though. She just kept at it, building up the number 2, not quite as potent as her first, but not exactly a weenie on the richter scale either.

“Only one more, Mistress…”

“Getting tired Slave…..”

“You can always take a break…. But the pegs stay on….”

“No……”

She went for it then, pressing harder, her body writhing, seat popping onto her lovely forehead. I took a few photos, watching with something less than clinical detachment as she worked her way up and over to number three. And as she hit that crested, I quickly popped off each of the clips…

“Oh, God, Slave….. that hurts……”

“That’s what M predicted Mistress. He said they would hurt more coming off than just staying on….”

She fell back onto the bed, her face flushed, gasping for breath. Her little ordeal was over. She seemed to have the contentment that one gets with a job well done. Sort of like a long hill climb on her bike. The sheets were damp with her perspiration.

And I must confess that now my interest was less as the instrument of your directions.

“Mistress, that concludes the punishment required by M…. after that… he said I was at my discretion.”

She reached for my cock. It was clearly interested in the next stage of the morning’s activities.

“And what comes next, Slave….”

Actually, it was pretty obvious.

Leisurely Saturday In River City

 

With kids gone, cold and damp weather, and no social obligations to speak of, Molly and Mick spent a good deal of Saturday in bed.

(I know that comes as a surprise!)

After some satisfying early morning sex, fueled in part by a hot story about our imaginary adventures posted by Will ( See it here: Will:someone-else's-cock )there was a trip to the gym. Then Mistress was off to her nail salon for some maintenance on her hands and feet. (Yeah, I know, her Slave needs to develop more refined skills in those areas, like Suzanne’s Tammy, but  Mistress deserves something better than the blunders of an on-he-job trainee when it comes to maintaining those world class digits and toes.)

And of course, Slave had other things to do. After visiting my aging Mom, I had to pick up some clothespins as directed by our Western Correspondent.

Then it was a trip to Costco. It was Slave’s first venture through the doors of one of America’s great consumer meccas. M swears by it, and has gotten Mistress into the habit.

But I was a little under/overwhelmed. Of course it is nice to have a year’s worth of laundry detergent at the ready, just in case the “Socialists” at the EPA ban it  next month, and send us all back to  creek side with our washboards and stones.  But with all that stuff crowding the shelves in supersizes, what are the odds that they would not sell what I was looking for: wine glasses and corn flakes?

Back at home, our provisions stored away in the larder, Mistress was tired of my wise assed whining.

“Slave…. It’s time for me to fuck you in the Ass …. Please get out my supplies.”

Nothing like that to adjust my snarky attitude.

As Mistress responded to some emails, I found her harness and little plastic dildo…. But she had to remind me to retrieve the lube.

“I guess you shouldn’t have to remind me of that Mistress…. You might do this without it….”

“But that would be cruel, Slave….. maybe a spanking instead?”

She slathered some baby oil gel on her artificial cock.

“You know M says we probably need a bigger one….”

“I’m sure he’d like that Mistress….”

If only as payback for all my snotty remarks about his level of productivity.

Mistress snuggled and kissed me for a while, her fingers teasing at my cock, preparing me for what was to come.  But soon she was ready for the main event.

“Now why don’t you get in position, Slave….”

“Yes, Mistress.”

I slid a pillow under my hips, spreading my legs to accommodate her. And then show mounted me , slowly guiding her “cock” into my welcoming cavity.

Mistress likes to start slowly, then build up a head of steam. Her warm up ministrations already had my cock thick and full. But there is something about that hard little phallus pumping into me, as her hips pound against my ass cheeks, that sends me into a different zone….

And it also seems to have a rather compelling impact on her. Her breath gets ragged, she’s breathing hard.

“You like this Slave, don’t you.”

“I do Mistress….”

“Why Slave… tell me why…..”

“Hard to explain, Mistress….. it just feels right….very hot….. I’m sure you’d like to have M do this to you, wouldn’t you Mistress….

“Oh….yes I would Slave…. I would…..”

At this point Mistress is moaning, thrusting harder, almost lunging, then falling over the precipice, with a sudden shudder.

Yes, She seems to enjoy this even more than I do.

After a few more thrusts at a slower speed, Mistress slides out, climbs off the bed, and removes her leather harness, depositing on the floor for her Slave to clean and store away until the next time.

“Why don’t you go put in your device now, Slave.”

My white aneros.  It is a suitable replacement for that thrusting cock. A persistent reminder of what she had done, that keeps my cock especially hard for her when I am next given the  privilege of fucking her.

All I could say was “thank you, Mistress”, when finally given permission to come.

After that, it was nap time, and as Mistress slept a little longer, Slave watched the Steelers – Ravens game for a while. Though I had no dog in that hunt, the mayhem was certainly amusing. And there was the back story of whether Suzanne might lose her bet with Jay that added a little extra intrigue.

At some point in the afternoon, M was on the phone with Molly, and he asked to speak to me.  He shared his diabolical instructions for Mistress’s punishment, which we elected to keep confidential for now,  to keep her on he edge of her seat until this morning as that punishment unfolds. Let me just say this: it is simple and elegeant.

Not that she didn’t try to wheedle the information out of him and me.

Later last night, after Slave and Mistress had a picnic and watched a movie of her choosing, I tuned into the final qaurter of the 2^nd Play-off game, and Mistress had M back on the phone, as we lay next to each other on the bed.

I could hear that sexy, flirtatious voice she deploys for him. She described how she fucked me in the ass, and how much I liked it. Then the subject turned to her upcoming punishment.

“Why won’t you tell me, M….. I’m just imagining all sorts of terrible things….”

I could tell M was having none of it.

“What if I run away to avoid this torture…..”

Now I had to interject.

“Ask M if he thinks I should tie you to the bed to prevent escape….”

She was not amused.

But as the Packers laid a big hurt on the Falcons, I could not help but wade into their chat in a more substantive way. Without invitation or pre-authorization, I pulled the covers back and buried my head between her lovely thighs, commencing what I have been so well trained to do.

“M, he’s at it again. He’s licking me down there.”

Notice that she did not tell me to back off.

Soon she was into one of her little reveries, eyes clamped tightly shut, listening to M’s  voice as he joined in this little quickie for our beloved Molly. And Mistress was being quite co-operative, her hips rising to meet my lips as I drew a couple of lovely little orgasms from her before she said, “that’s enough Slave….”

Soon Mistress was signing off…. “I’m sleepy M….”

“So what was he whispering in your ear as I was doing my part, Mistress.”

“Ohhh…. I was sucking his cock, while you were sucking my cunt, Slave.”

“I bet you’d like that in real life, wouldn’t you, Mistress?”

“What girl wouldn’t, Slave.”

Fan Fiction and a Mission Accomplished

My assignment today from our Western Correspondent was to pick up a bag of clothes pins (or "pegs" as some of you call them), in anticipation of Mistress's punishment tomorrow. Our switch day and the WC's decision that Mistress is due a punishment for failure to bring a certain toy to work on Friday have a convenient convergence.

That mission was accomplished today at our local hardware store. I doubt we will need all 50 of them, unless the WC really is a heartless fiend.  I texted a picture of our new toys shortly thereafter to let him no we are ready on this end.

Now I am awaiting M's instructions.... and yes, it does seem odd that our lowest paid employee is now running the UCTMW asylum ... but that seems to have been our Publisher's call, and She's the Boss!



Also worth sharing is the latest piece of Molly and Mick fan fiction.  You can find it here.Will's continued adventures of Molly, Mick and that other guy.

I have a feeling this story might have Mistress sending me on a whole different shopping excursion.  If anyone knows where one might acquire such an accessory, please let us know.