After that 4:30 am command performance yesterday, both Slave and Mistress were a little tired by the end of our workdays. As we drove home from the gym last evening, Mistress described our state to our Western Correspondence in a brief conversation:
“I’ve told Slave no sex tonight…. Too tired. But at least we did have that worship session in his office….”
Yes, Mistress did stop by after lunch. She was wearing those tricked out tights, with the nice convenient opening between her thighs. So nice for some drive by pleasuring during a busy workday. And when I was done, still on my knees, I took a photo of her: smug smile, legs spread, pink lips showing, to be sent to M via text message.
Mistress wanted to keep him up to date. Would that be penalized as taunting in the NFL?
Mistress relayed to me that it was 17 degrees below back in his home town. SO cold that they closed schools, even though the snowfall was minimal.
“Remind him that he needs to keep his equipment protected, Mistress….frost bite can easily reoccur once that sensitive flesh is compromised.”
In several comments yesterday, our WC had been escalating his demands for more accommodation for his sad, disabled special occasion cock. Somehow an extended recuperation at a San Diego golf resort had been added to his wish list.
“M, I’ve told you that the CEO is willing to drop everything and fly out to supervise your recovery…. “
But somehow M has ignored that generous offer by our “hands on” Boss.
“Maybe he’s afraid you will use the trip to inventory all those “office supplies” that keep showing up on his expense account, Mistress….”
So said the always paranoid CFO.
But the conversation soon turned to today’s reading material.
“Really …. Suzanne’s blog is about my ass?”
Clearly, M had been perusing the blogs during his work day.
“I’m not surprised, Mistress…. You really do have a very remarkable ass.”
Mistress noted my compliment. But her curiosity was clearly piqued.
“That will be my first priority when I get home, M.”
Sure enough, once we had prepared a light repast, we flipped open our laptops, to read what Suzanne was up to with her devoted stable of men. Here is the link.
I do think the attention made even Mistress blush.
It seems that both Jay and Tammy have been commenting on Mistress’s alluring ass, raising some concern about the level of discipline for Tammy over at All Mine.
Of course, based on data collected from secretly installed video monitors at our Mountain Zone branch office, we know that our Western Correspondence sometimes conducts his own workday “meditations” with the help of some blown up photos of Mistress’s lovely bottom. (No doubt the evidence of these little sessions will make good evidence in Court someday, should he pursue an intentional tort claim based on the alleged damage to his “frock”).
Now, of forced to choose favorite physical attributes, I would go for Mistress’s legs. But that’s just me. I have long been a devotee of the stems. And Molly has primo stems. But I can certainly understand why others might focus on Mistress firm and shapely ass.
And with Suzanne’s own ass on the line, depending on the outcome of Sunday’s Big Game, well, it seems only fair to make this “Ass Week” here at UCTMW….
If the “vanilla” world will have to look at photos all week of Troy Palamalu’s long hair, and Ben Rothlisberger’s beard, why shouldn’t we do a little counter-programming, here at the UCTMW media empire, and flood the zone with multiple shots of Mistress’s million dollar ass, collected in our extensive photo archive.
I may even be able to persuade Mistress to pose for a few new ones for this celebration of one of her finest physical attributes.
This one is from a few months back, when Mick and Molly “did it”, after hours, on my office floor.
Maybe by the end of the week we can take a vote on our readers’ favorite ass shot, for permanent posting here at UCTMW.
In the meantime, stay safe and warm out there. Here in River City, we are in the proverbial arm pit of the Great Storm of 2011: On the cusp between freezing rain and snow. Which means we seem to have been spared all but the howling wind, whipping through here off the plains, by way of Oklahoma.
I guess that means we won’t have Mistress pose for any outdoor ass shots anytime soon.
That’s what Mistress said last night when it was lights out here in River City. In fact, that’s what she usually says. She likes the feel of my cock pressed up between the cheeks of that delightful ass as she slips off to dream land.
And of course I try to accommodate, spooning up against her, an arm wrapped around her resting on a breast.
Last night, the cock was all worn out, a little damp from some power fucking, the type that goes on for a long time, in part because after a long and busy day, Slave has the energy to get his cock nice and hard (with some handy provocation from Mistress) but not the energy and focus for a quick cum, once Mistress’s needs are “resolved”.
So Mistress had the experience of me taking a long slow and persistent time before I begged for permission. And I heard no complaints. In fact, Mistress seems to enjoy that long slow fuck, with a few additional orgasms tossed in to keep her entertained along the way.
Before the fucking part, we had been laying in bed, watching the uplifting if unnerving news from Cairo on my laptop (That Erin Burnett on NBC must have packed a lot of wardrobe for this story – I swear we saw her in 3 tops over the course of the evening).
Mistress was multi-tasking: trolling through facebook to check out photos of friends, while texting back and forth with our Western Correspondent.
M’s town, out there on the edge of the Rockies, was in the crosshairs of the weather Armageddon that the networks are obsessing about, and M texted Molly that the temperatures were supposedly headed for 17 below.
“Better warn him to protect the equipment, Mistress …. They say once a body part suffers frost bite, it’s even more vulnerable the next time….”
We sure don’t want to see UCTMW Worker’s comp premiums spike. Profit margins are pretty thin already, and can barely keep Mistress in power tools and tricked out black tights.
Mistress must have passed on the message. When the little text chime went off, she snickered.
“He wants to know when Donna is going to deliver his cock cozy…. He may need it this week.”
A bit later, Mistress was texting some more, and mentioned that M was complaining that he’s getting “fat”…. Has all that rehabilitation made him a couch potato?
“I guess we could adopt a wellness program, Mistress …. Don’t want our far flung staff getting too thick… that’s going to drive up health care costs.
When M got wind of this possibility, he began layering on the demands …. Gym membership …. Massage therapist …. You get the picture. I’m wondering if we can outsource his job to someone in India, who won’t abuse the expense account, but can still keep Mistress entertained with the occasional rampant cock shot?
Something to consider when we update the UCTMW strategic plan.
It was about that time that Mistress signed off with M, and I shut down the news feed.
“I told him we’re having sex now, Slave.”
And so we did.
But at around 4:15 am, I heard from Mistress again.
“I’m having trouble sleeping Slave….”
Hmmm. I wasn’t. But I do live to serve her. I stifled a yawn, and did my best to respond.
“Would you like me to deploy your power tool, Mistress?”
I wasn’t too confident that the batteries on my organic tool had recharged sufficiently, if you know what I mean.
No, Slave…. I think I want the real one….”
I tried to wake myself, then sidled up next to her. Fingers slid between those familiar folds. Already damp. Teeth latched onto vibrant nipples. Deep kisses were exchanged as Mistress’s lovely body wound itself around mine.
Soon my fingers were having the desired effect, as Mistress moaned and writhed her way through a seemingly satisfying cum.
Would this make her drowsy?
Uhhh, No.
“How’s my cock, Slave….”
Her well manicured hands sought it out… and, I was surprised to discover that it was …. interested. Soon, with some additional provocation from Mistress’s skilled fingers, it was very interested. So interested that I was begging for the opportunity to demonstrate it’s intended purpose.
Not unlike a few hours earlier, this turned into one of those long drawn out affairs. At some point I took a break to slide off my T-Shirt.
“It’s getting hot in here, Mistress….”
“Yes, Slave…. Very.”
And when we were finally done – after permission was granted and taken – I slid back to sleep for a while, having served my purpose. But Mistress -- she was up and running – on her lap-top, responding to office emails, checking the weather. Very focused.
As Switch Day dawned here at the Collins family compound, I really had no specific plan for Mistress, though my bottom still had the faint memory of the cropping I had received the afternoon before.
I suppose some Slaves with a switch option in their contract might jump on the opportunity to “return the favor” particular when sporting fresh, hard earned welts.
But oddly, when Mistress gets all dommy with me – wields the crop and deploys her strap on – it really makes me a bit more subby, and much less inclined to highlight her own, much more shapely bottom with some tender red stripes.
Oops. Maybe I should not have disclosed such a weak-kneed proclivity.
In any event, after Mistress paged me, I brought her up the Sunday papers. We perused them for a while, before I handed her the laptop for her morning blog read. As is typical, I feaster on her parts, got the juices flowing, while she read my morning homework and scanned a few other blogs.
But then it was time for her to face the music.
I reached into our little bed side table, pulling out the red leather wrist cuffs, and the companion locks.
This was the cue for Mistress to wrap herself tightly in the covers.
“But its cold, Slave.. “
She does like to whine and wheedle.
But ultimately she was a good sport. Though she expressed a little surprise when I locked her wrists behind her back.
“What are you up to Slave?”
Then she squirmed some more – more complaints about the “frigid” air, as I reached for her ankles, linking them together under the covers with some leather binders.
This is where my improvisation began.
I don’t recall ever having Mistress in the classic hogtie position.
But there is a first time for everything.
And since I had decided to give her a pass on any serious cropping or spanking, I didn’t have to worry about full access to her lush bottom, did I?
A length of rope stuffed into that bedside drawer would provide the proper link. SO the covers came off, her legs were pulled up towards her wrists, and the connection was made. Not too strenuous…. But enough to make those strong muscles in shoulders and legs strain just a bit… and how does she look dear readers, all vulnerable and bound?
I took a few photos then.
“Remember Slave…. I get approval rights before any of those get posted….”
“Does that really apply on Switch Day, Mistress…. I’m not sure you’ve read the contract carefully….”
“You know it does, Slave….or you will really be in trouble….”
Can anyone recommend a good ball gag vender. I do think that might be a good addition to our toy box.
After our little photo shoot, I slid down onto the bed next to Mistress, stroking her with my fingers, nibbling a bit at the lovely expanse of helpless flesh on display for me.
“You really are quite beautiful like this Mistress….”
She just cooed into the pillow a bit as I explored a bit. the squirming had begun.
But then I reached for the Hitachi, parked, as usual, just under our bed. I thumbed it on.
“Don’t put it on ‘Hi’ Slave….”
“Ohhh. Listen to you, still giving orders….”
But I had no reason to put it on “hi”…. Not hurray here.
The business end of the pwer tool slid nicely between her thighs from behind… probably not exactly where Mistress would place it if she was at the controls…. But then that was the fun part…. Seeing her wriggle, squirm and buck a bit to get just the right purchase….
Yum.
Her musky scent was beginning to fill the room. A slight sheen of perspiration was springing forth.
“Still cold, Mistress….”
“Uhhh… guess not, Slave….”
“remember, you must ask for permission….”
“Yes Slave….. “
She seemed to be in the spirit of things now…. Wriggling to and frow, straining to spread bound legs just enough to get her sodden parts just where that little churning machine could do its optimal work.
“May I come now, Slave… please…..”
Who could deny such a pitiful request. Well, sometimes I could… but not yesterday…
“Of course you may, Mistress…. Go for it…”
I could tell she had been holding back … just a bit…. maybe afraid that I would say “no”…
So it took her a good 30 seconds or so to get full cummy momentum and then plunge full speed over the edge…. Humping the mattress, and moaning into her pillow. After the aftershocks subsided, she suggested that had been enough.
“You can stop it now, Slave.”
But I didn’t. She didn’t seem so desperate for the end… not just yet. I “cruelly” forced one more out of her, her leg muscles straining, shoulder and arms stretching as she tried with a certain delicious determination to clutch at the tool as it took her back over the precipice one more time.
By now her body was nice and sticky with a combination of salty perspiration and her juices…
“Now Slave…. Please turn it off.”
“As you wish, Mistress….”
I let her rest a bit, cuddling next to her, as I untied the rope that connected wrists to feet. Then I took off the leather cuffs at her ankles, letting her stretch and rest a bit.
She wiggled her wrists.
“What about these, Slave?”
“Ohhh… not done yet, Mistress….”
My next little experiment was having her ride my cock with wrists bound….
It took a little more effort than you might imagine. Her body was a little tired and tight, but with some helpful pushing and prodding I had her up and over me, and her fingers were quite helpful in guiding my firm and friendly cock where it was destined to be.
Suffice it to say that Mistress, once on top, got into the sprit of things…
Her bound hands were at just the right position to toy with my balls, even as my fingers could tweek helpless nipples.
“I bet M would like this, Mistress making you ride his cock with your hands all helpless….”
“Mmmmm….”
Her eyes were shut tight… envisioning it no doubt.
“And I bet you’d enjoy that too, wouldn’t you….”
“I would, Slave…”
Make a note, M.
Soon she was coming again, with a loud moan of surrender to her desires, then collapsing onto me. As I hugged her close, my cock still sliding into her, but at a more relaxed pace, I realized that I had taken her about as far as seemed fair on our little Switch Day.
So I helped her roll over, unfastened her wrists, let her stretch out a bit, then took my own reward.
And it’s funny how, even on Switch Day, things always seem to end with me asking for her permission to come.
It was a busy Saturday here at the UCTMW World HQ.
Carrying forth with yesterday’s Sit-Com analogy, this could be one of those back to back episode extravaganzas …. And yet, well, I have some Switch Day planning to do this morning. Need to save some creative energy for that, don’t I?
So, roll the cutsey pooh credits, and let her rip……
Episode One:
Mistress was a horny little slut yesterday morning, if I may be so bold.
As she read the blog, and some of the comments that had already filtered in, I was buried between her muscular thighs under the sheet, lavishing her sodden folds with plenty of attention. And once the lap-top was set aside, she had a little amuse- bouche of an orgasm, complements of my tongue, sort of getting her appetite revved up for what would be served up next.
She pulled me up and next to her, grappling for my cock. It was already beginning to rise to the occasion, but with Mistress subtle (well, really not so subtle) grip, I was soon begging for permission to fuck her….and it took her a while to agree. She was amused by my pitiful pleas, it seemed.
But when she finally did agree to my entreaties, much to my desperate gratification, she threw a change up.
“Do me from behind, Slave….”
Hmmm… something that had been left off the menu for a few weeks. I was wondering what made Mistress want to go in this direction – some smutty little fantasy about our Western Correspondent I suspected – but I was happy to play my supporting role in it.
With some help from Mistress’s fingers I found my way in from behind, and made sure I pumped her with the type of fervid rhythm that seems to press the buttons for her in this position. And since it’s not a position that Slave readily comes in, well, all the better for Mistress, right? She knew I would not be annoying her with a request to come any time soon.
It was hard to tell if Mistress came that way, as I pressed her body hard against the mattress, sliding in and out with a good pace from behind….but after a while, it was another change-up from her.
“I want to be on top now, Slave….”
“Of course, Mistress….”
Hmmm….. more high energy from Mistress.
I slid off and over, rolling onto my back…. Mistress commented on my rather prominent cock, pointing up at her at a right angle from my tummy, like an old Atlas rocket about to chase down Sputnik and put it in its place (or was it Spud-Nut? … DM Sarah P., she would know….)
Quickly Mistress mounted me, and it was not long before she was squeezing those sultry green eyes shut, moaning and quaking with one of those seismic cums that seem to visit her in this position…. She was reaching back now, fondling my balls, and I was so close, but not …just …. there.
Arghhhh.
And I could tell Mistress was getting tired riding my cock, so I suggested we roll over…
She seemed grateful, sliding off me, then onto her back….and I was on top of her lickity split. Not long thereafter, it was Slave begging for permission, and Mistress generously saying “Yes, my Slave…”
That was my cue to go for it. It seemed I came in a long series of spasms, before collapsing back onto her soft, warm body.
At this point Slave could have gone back to sleep, cuddled next to her…. Brain and body dead like a piece of fully depreciated livestock.
But Mistress was not quite done.
“Hand me the Hitachi, Slave…..”
Wow. Some guys might feel that their services had come up short under such circumstances. But, call me cocky, I knew I had left it all on the field….
On this particular morning, Mistress’s needs were just a little more than something a mere cock could handle, and I had no shame in reaching under the bed and thumbing her power tool on for her.
I sidled next to her as the churning device slid under the sheets. I happily took on the role of supporting actor, gnawing on a nipple, then probing her mouth with my tongue, as she took matters into her own hands.
And soon she was bucking up against the machine’s soft churning bulb, her head thrown back, moaning with the final release of a well earned climax to our morning’s adventures.
At that point we both drifted off, spent….
Episode Two
So I was down in the bowels of the UCTMW World HQ, painting a door to our garage. (Yes, your humble Executive Editor / General Counsel / Risk Management Analyst also acts as weekend maintenance technician here in River City).
Mistress wandered downstairs, calling for me. I looked up. She had a phone pressed to her ear.
“I have the WC on the phone, Slave…. And he reminds me that you are due a punishment.”
Huh?
Apparently, our Western Correspondent was buttonholing our Boss, playing some office politics, whilst I am tending to mundane company business. He had been taking the CEO aside and throwing me under the bus. No doubt he’s angling for a fancier title and my corner office.
But I stifled my complaints….biding my time. There will be payback … maybe I will send the IRS a bogus 1099 from “UCTMW Enterprises” in M’s name. Let the WC explain that one to his accountant.
“No doubt he’s right, Mistress.”
“Why don’t you finish up soon down here Slave, and meet me in our bedroom.”
She went back upstairs, still chatting with flirtatious animation to M….
I soon had one coat of dark green paint on the door, and put my supplies away. After washing up, I headed upstairs, where Mistress, done with her talk, soon joined me.
“Get out my supplies, Slave.”
I knew exactly what she meant. The strap-on and its faux cock. The lube.
“And make sure you get me the riding crop too….”
I laid her supplies on the bed. She snapped a photo of the crop, and texted it off to M, letting him in on what was to come. No doubt he would be amused that the seed he had planted would soon be sprouting.
I did not have to ask whether to strip off my pants and underwear, as Mistress slid into her harness. Soon she was ready for action, riding crop in hand.
”On your stomach Slave…. And be still….”
Of course, I complied, but asked, “and why am I being punished, Mistress….”
“You know why….”
The first blow landed with a stinging surprise.
Yow.
“I am not sure, Mistress….”
Dumb move.
Two more had me squirming, trying to suppress my verbal complaints by chomping on a pillow.
“You were a real ass-hole twice this week, Slave….”
Yes. True. Two drives to work where Mistress had to tell me to “stifle”.
Are we sounding like Archie and Edith here? But with the roles reversed? Could be.
After the fourth blow, I was more than ready to admit my sins. But the blows kept raining down, and they sure hurt.
Damn they hurt.
Unrestrained, I could not avoid rolling over and away at one point, to avoid the crop that Mistress was wielding so effectively. But her stern look made me realize that would only extend the punishment. So I sucked it up and submitted….
It’s at moments like these that I wish I had more padding back there.
But, at last, Mistress relented.
Sitting next to me and running her warm, now merciful hands along my ass. The fire was already receding, but she oohed and ahhed a bit.
“Oh my…. What nice red welts you have, Slave….”
She reached for her I-phone, snapped a photo, fiddled with her keyboard. I’m not sure if one went to M, but one went to my email account. I was instructed to show it to you all today….
Then she handed me the lube after applying a generous amount to her “cock”.
“Are you ready for the next part, Slave.”
I was. This would be a picnic, compared to that crop.
She found her little target with no difficulty, then began pumping home.
I have a feeling that her warm up act -the process of making me writhe in pain for her, all my exclamations of agony - actually may have enhanced her own … arousal.
Because it was really only a matter of about 90 seconds… at least so it seemed …. Before she was coming hard and long with against my ass with those tell-tale spasms of ecstasy.
“Wow, Mistress…. I think you liked that….”
“Yes…. I did Slave…. Very satisfying….”
She was sliding out of me now, dropping her harness onto the floor for me to clean up and pack away afterwards….
“Why don’t you go insert your little device, and get back here and fuck me….”
I did not have to think twice about toeing that particular line.
