Employee Recognition Day at UCTMW Enterrpises, LLC

UCTMW ENTERPRISES, LLC

MEMORANDUM

FROM: Mick Collins, Executive Editor


To: All Staff


Re: Employee Recognition Day

On behalf of our CEO, who is languishing in bed this morning, after a busy and demanding 24 hours or so (we will get to that later), I want to extend our thanks and appreciation for your efforts on behalf of UCTMW Enterprises in these last few months.

We have recently hit our 500th blog entry, and we could not have done it without you.

With your help, we have moved in little more than a year from a tiny internet start-up that was little more than a vanity publication with roots in sleepy little River City, to a media empire read world wide (by all of 700 some readers daily) with branch offices in the Mountain West and the hills of North Carolina.

We could not have gotten there alone….I suspect many of our readers would have long since moved on after repetitive stories of oral worship and cock cagings, but for the pithy and clever comments of our staff, and your well researched tutorials on matters such as ass fucking.

Now I am sure some of you might be asking “where’s the cash, Mick?” “What’s in it for us?”

But the CEO has taught me that what really matters to employees, what really gets them up and moving every day to put their nose to the corporate grindstone, is that sense of “fulfillment” and “recognition” for what they contribute.

So …. Drum roll please…. We are unveiling today (glance to the right) our first ever UCTMW masthead …. Identifying each of you as members of our management team.
Hopefully we can expand on that with little bios and avatars…. If you write and create them, of course. Don’t expect old Mick to do all the heavy lifting here!

And WC, you may ask yourself…. “Why am I now listed as part of “management”…. I don’t even have a lowly intern to go fetch me pizza and flash her thong at me….”

Well, as we’ve learned over the years…. If you are a “manager”, you can’t join or form a union, so kiss your pals at the International Brotherhood of Teamsters good bye, and forget about collecting overtime.

Now I know some of you also may be asking “after all our hard work, all we get is a listing on some dumb corporate masthead.”

Well, I know, that may not seem quite enough. After we sharpened our pencils and took a look at cash flow yesterday, your CEO, in her benevolence, agreed to the following incentive package to keep you coming back for more, and to ignore the siren songs of folks like Aisha, who has been encouraging Donna to break away and start her won blog:

• We won’t ask you to take yet another pay cut for at lest the next 6 months.
• We will not hike the percentage you pay for our generous health care package for the next year, though co-pays will now be $50 for each doctor visit.
• We will keep the UCTMW pension plan in place, rather than convert it to a worthless 401(k), though the retirement age will be increased to 75.
• This year mandatory no-pay furloughs will be limited to 1 month (of course we get to pick the month).

Finally, we have something that we know will thrill you and keep you as our loyal and happy employees. Each of you will be granted stock options in UCTMW Enterprises, LLC. Under this generous plan, if the stock price rises by 40% or more each year, you will share in the enormous profits. Of course, there is a small charge for enrollment in the plan. Our accountants will get the paperwork to you in the next few days. We accept Visa or Mastercard.

I wish our CEO had the time to send her personal good wishes to you this morning. But…. Well…. she has had quite a day. There was early morning wake up sex with the assistance of her Executive Editor yesterday morning. I would say with the 2 “prelim” orgasms, and maybe two more as she allowed me to fuck her, well …. That was a nice start.

Then her Slave was required to don his cage, which she locked up tightly.

As I was eating my breakfast, she was off on a nice long morning bike ride. And once she had showered, there was that morning “Editorial conference”, with our WC.

She checked in with me on the way to work.

“How many Mistress?”

“I kind of lost track, Slave…. Maybe 5 or so….”

Yow. A combination of the power tool and M’s seductive voice can be quite potent.

“He was working on a story about a trip to some kinky sex resort in Jamaica….”

I can’t wait until we get the expense account receipts for the research junket M takes for that story.

When we got home after a family dinner celebrating one of the teen’s birthday’s, both of us were dragging. But Mistress made sure she received ample worship in exchange for unlocking that cage.

Then, at around 5 am this morning, I felt her cuddling up close to me. Her hand reached around, and began to toy and tease with my cock, waking me from my slumber.

“Uhhhh…. What’s up Mistress?”

“I’m just making sure my cock is OK, Slave…I like to handle it this way… to remind myself that it’s all mine.”

“Of course it is, Mistress.”

Well you can imagine where this led. Soon I was suckling and squeezing some nipples, and then a finger was exploring her moist and fragrant folds. A

fter she came that way, I was begging for permission to fuck her. And, lucky Slave, she was amenable.

Having been sated once again, Mistress rolled over…. Intent on a little more rest.

“I’m looking forward to the blog this morning, Slave. You have a lot to write about.”

So true.

HNT / Comparative Anatomy

I felt a bit like Tom Sawyer yesterday…. In that episode when he persuades Huck Finn what fun it would be to paint that fence. Before going to be after our long trip home on Wednesday night, I responded to an email from Donna with an aside that she should feel free to come up for something in the AM, since I knew I would wake up bleary eyed, still adjusting to the time shift.

And sure enough, to my surprise, my inbox had a full and funny blog to share with you.

Our Senior Correspondent, who was just promoted last week or so from SOiuthern Correspondent, is one heck of an over-achiever. I may have to come up with anew title for her if this keeps up.

As for our Western Correspondent, well, he remains on the mend. Sounds as if he was able to ride his bike to work yesterday, a good thing because those fuel charges for the tricked out  Avalanche he snuck onto the company credit card a few months back are killing our margins. Whodathunk you needed to incorporate the possibility of Colonel Gadaffi coming unhinged when putting together the business plan for a growing sex-blog empire.

Yesterday, on our commute home from a very busy day reminding folks that we were still working for a living, Molly mentioned that we would be riding separately in the morning.

“M and I have a date scheduled, Slave….”

So the home Hitachi will have to be dusted off, and the special occasion cock will be back to its old tricks.  And in the meantime, Slave knows what his responsibilities are.

“So should I wear my cage tomorrow, Mistress?”

“Well, I know it will be a long day (we have a family dinner at the end of the day), but that’s a good idea Slave…. I’m glad I didn’t have to remind you.”

So my ring is already firmly in place, which should provide Mistress with a little bonus for some wake up sex…. thankfully M did not impose an embargo for her before their date.

But there is one little story I meant to share about our WC when we were away.

We were sitting in this grand old atrium, built from the courtyard of an adobe home, now converted to an intimate hotel. Our friend the musician was performing with his band., and we were lounging on a loveseat, enjoying the scene, sipping some drinks.

Mistress had been texting back and forth with M some through the evening. Then when she picked up her phone from the cocktail table, she laughed.

“What is it Mistress….”, I try not to be nosey, but when she laughs like that, it’s hard not to want to  be drawn into the fun.

She leaned into me.   “he sent me a picture of himself naked, Slave….”

She gave me a quick look before pulling the phone away, not wanting other prying eyes in the crowded room to catch a glance of our WC’s endowments. Sure enough there was M, apparently posed in front of the bathroom mirror.

Funny.

“Pretty impressive, Mistress…. “.

It looked as if M would have passed the pre-employment physical, if we had been shrewd enough to have it done before sending him the keys to the branch office and a UCTMW credit card.

“You think so, Slave….”

“Sure, Mistress, he seems in good shape, and even at half-staff, the equipment seems to be up to the title we’ve given it.”

But Mistress was reassuring, maybe sensitive to my feelings.

“Oh Slave, it’s really not much bigger than yours.”

“Well I only got a glance, Mistress, and I suppose he may have been manipulating the image (or the tool), but when at parade rest, it seems to be considerably bigger than mine in a similar state.”

We both looked at each other, contemplating the nature of our conversation. Then laughed.

Were we really sipping drinks at a great old bar, and talking about comparative cock sizes.

Yeah, I guess it had come to this…..

Funny where a sex blog can lead you, dear readers.

And now, I hear the dainty feet of Mistress upstairs. Duty calls.

"Subbing" for Mick this Morning ... Our Senior Correspondent

I know, I know, it’s a shock to see the Senior Southern Correspondent of UCTMW here this morning, but rest easy and let me reassure you right off the bat that Molly and Mick arrived home safely yesterday and are both perfectly fine. They just wanted to spend a few quiet moments this morning having a little sleep in and take a few extra moments to adjust to the time change.

Ha, ha, ha! Yes, gentle readers; I snorted my coffee on that one, too. Mick may be snuggled down in bed, but I think we all know what he is doing to Molly under those covers. And if that Hitachi Wand isn’t plugged in and ramped up to full power by 8AM, I’ll eat my hat. That Molly is one beautiful and lucky lady.

But moving on here, I am aware that you are accustomed to a hefty dose of mad passionate sex from UCTMW with your morning toast and jelly, but you’re going to have to pull up your big girl panties or plus size He-Man tighty whities and just wait a minute. Bill and I make mad passionate love, perhaps not on the same schedule as Molly and Mick, but we are Dom and sub and quite zealous and creative in our love making. Plus, we have the added advantage of our kids being out of the house which has led to some wonderful adventures in the kitchen, the living room, the den, the library, out on the deck, etc. But, before we delve into our sexual exploits, I think we might want to get to know one another a bit better. In my experience there is nothing like sharing heart-felt, real life stories to get acquainted, so I thought I might begin with a story about our home.

We live in a rather rustic log cabin in the mountains of North Carolina. There are other log cabins on the mountain, but we aren't sitting on top of each other like those homes in Molly and Mick’s neighborhood. In any case, we have a dear 85 year old neighbor, Daisy, who retired here about twenty years ago. She lives just up the mountain from us. Well, her son and family were visiting from New York last week during that early warm spell. Daisy had worked herself into a state trying to make sure everything would be just perfect for their visit. The last night of their visit was a beautiful evening and our windows were wide open. As I sat in our den reading, I could hear in the distance their soft conversation and an occasional bit of laughter as they had drinks out on Daisy’s deck. All of a sudden I heard my Bill yelling/bellowing from our living room, "Dammit Indy, don't kiss me, boy, I know where that tongue has been. You just came in here straight from licking your brother's ass again, didn’t you?" All sounds of conversation from Daisy's house stopped. I struggled for a while with whether I should call up to Daisy’s cabin and explain that Indy and his brother are two of our cats, or just leave it as an interesting story for her family to share about their trip to the backwoods of North Carolina. Want to guess which option I chose?

Oh, I have another great story about Bill. You may have noticed that Bill has a certain protective streak. I think most Doms do, but Bill is much better armed than most. A few years back, Bill wanted me to have some new lacy thong undies, so we went shopping in one of those huge mega-mall places. Now we tend to steer clear of malls ever since they started being so picky about carrying knives and such but on that day Bill agreed to leave his assortment of super sharp friends at home, which turned out to be a good thing. Just as he was pushing me out of Victoria’s Secret with my pink striped bag of beautiful new thongs, a monstrosity of a woman ran toward me at full steam. Looking for all the world like the evil sea demon dressed in black from that Little Mermaid movie, I kept praying she would veer off to the right or the left, but she didn’t. Instead, she came to a sliding stop right in front of my wheelchair, reached out and bopped me on the shoulder saying, “It’s lucky to touch a cripple!” Now Bill and I have had our fair share of run-ins with ignorance, but this was over the top and I was a tad bit sorry I had forced Bill to leave his sharp companions at home. Not to worry, without missing a beat, my hero, rolled my tires right on top of her piggy-toed sandals and said,”And it’s even luckier to roll over the toes of an idiot”. And my hero rolled the wheels back a touch and then forward again just to be sure he had been thorough, and then slowly pushed my chair on through the mall. I do love that man!

Well, now that I feel we know each other a bit better, I am ready for the sexual part of this program. Yesterday evening, just after dinner, Bill called me back to the bedroom. As I made my way down the hall I could smell my favorite incense burning and could see the flickering light of the candles reflected in the hall mirror. I rolled forward and there on our bed was my collar, the leather one with the ouchie nipple clips. Next, I saw the Liberator pillows positioned toward the edge of the mattress and the restraints for my wrists and ankles carefully laid out on either side.

Bill stripped off my jeans and shirt, tightened the collar around my neck and placed me on the bed, leaning me forward over the Liberators so my butt was up in the air. As he tightened the restraints around my wrists and ankles, I glanced to my left and saw his favorite strop, and beside it, my beloved Hitachi Wand. “Don’t think I forgot about those nipple clamps, sub, I’ll get back to those”, he said in his deep and sexy voice, “but tonight we’ll start with a warm-up.” And with that I felt his huge palm land on my left butt cheek.”Count, Donna!” he barked. “One, Sir…

Oh gosh, it appears I have far exceeded my word limit. I guess we’ll have to come back to this another time.

I know you join me in hoping that Molly and Mick have had a good, if not so very restful, sleep in this morning.

Your Sexy Senior Southern Correspondent,

Donna

Heading "Home"

It’s our last morning here in our undisclosed mountain retreat. And although the trip has been way too short, we packed a great deal of fun, sex, skiiing and re-connecting time into these five days.

We found this special place back in 2002. After several years of coming here with our children, settling into the quirky scene, making friends and enjoying the steep and challenging slopes, we picked our little house, on the edge of the mountains.

It’s furnished with furniture left behind by prior owners, or recycled from thrift shops, and objects de arte that reached out to us. And of course there are the family photos that show how our children have grown from the cute little ski munchkins of 10 or more years ago, to the foxy, if surly beauties of these last few years.

As Molly and Mick struggled through some darker times, and moved the family from the Midwest to Florida and back again, this house   has become in many ways our oldest and dearest home.

When we have lost a bit of our karma, or the spring in our steps, ( or my cock) we know they can be found here, just waiting inside the door, or out on our sun drenched patio.

Yesterday was a lovely day on our Mountain. The storm of the evening before had left about 5 inches of fresh and fluffy snow, but now the sky was that majestic blue, not a cloud in sight. And the slopes seemed all but deserted, with  kids and families back in school or to work. Sure, the powder hounds had come up, but most had migrated to the steeper back country stuff, opened at last,  for the folks who want to climb a bit higher to lay fresh tracks.

While we were both being hounded by demands from work on our PDAs, it was easy to get lost in the glory and solitude of a run down a sun splattered trail, bobbing through patches of untracked snow.

At home, we handled some nagging calls and emails, then settled into bed for a long and steamy session, with out any equipment other than our naked parts. I do recall how nicely Mistress bucked and moaned as I worshipped her sumptuous  shaven folds, all clean and fresh from our shower. When  it was my turn, she used that lovely mouth and the devious touch of her fingers to get me begging for the opportunity to fuck her.

And of course, she ultimately relented. 

Mick is a lucky man.

Afterwards, I slapped together an apple crisp that we took over to some friends’ house for a little dinner party. He is a local musician (we heard him play Saturday and Sunday evenings at different venues), and she works at a local gallery. They both moved here from more urban environs, but now live to ski and for his music. They raised two wild and crazy sons here, in a simple house with drop dead views, next to the estate of a very famous movie queen. 

We shared funny stories, and a few bottles of wine, and they cooked us a great meal.

They recently celebrated their 27^th Anniversary. And Molly shared that we had been “together” for 24 years. We talked about what it takes to stay married for so long when so many other couples lose their way. Both Molly and I agreed it may be a lot easier sticking with it as a couple when you have a simpler and more grounded life in a place like this to fall back on.

As Molly said, “other than having our kids, getting this place is the best decision we ever made.”

True. But now it’s time to head back to our alternative reality.  Fortunately, we will be back here with the teens on about 3 weeks for their spring break.

So its time to pack up the lap-top, and surrender ourselves to the mercy of the air travel “system”. With any luck I will be reporting from our World HQ in River City tomorrow morning.

I hope Donna and Bill remembered to leave us a key for the new high security fence they recently installed for our CEO’s protection.