Mainstream Media Coming From Behind.

Mistress, her Slave and the two sullen teens have gotten into a comfy groove here at our mountain hideaway.

While we very much enjoy the time the two of us get to spend here together, we realize this may be the last “spring break” we will share for some time with the teens, after about 12 springs in a row together here.

They’ve grown from cute little ski bunnies, working on craft projects acquired at the local WalMart, to the sullen and cranky semi-adults which they’ve become, buried in their technology, and barely grunting their acknowledgment when we try to engage them. One will be heading to college in the fall. The other seems headed to a year of study abroad.

So it seems our days of close quarters parenting are rushing to an unexpected and sudden end.

The horror.

My adoptive skills are relatively advanced though, so unlike springs past when I would play the drill sergeant, hustling all of us into our ski costumes and up the mountain by 9 or so, in time for lessons, or to beat the “crowds” to fresh fallen snow, I have adopted a much more passive approach to scheduling.

(Of course, this is also in deference to Mistress, who had been known to enjoy a little extra time in the sack too.)

So this week, we’ve been heading up the mountain at the shockingly late time of 10:30 am, with no forced quota for the number of runs expected either by lunch time or the end of the day.

This more leisurely pace seems to have improved everyone’s mood.

The later departure time also gives Slave some extra time in the am for blogging, staying in touch with work, and also tending to Mistress’s needs.

Yesterday, after I had prepared the blog, answered some work emails, and caught up on world news, I did stumble on an intriguing article in Salon, linked here, entitled, Bringing Up the Rear, which in light and frothy pop journalistic style describes how heterosexual males are enjoying the pleasures of anal penetration with increasing frequency these days.

The article is “packed full” with cute little stories of lads about town describing how their girl friends have introduced various probes and strap-ons to deepen their sexual fun.

And sure enough, the girls like it too!

So, folks, yet another “taboo”, seems to be falling by the way side, blurring the difference between our little, dark sex blog world and what might be called the “lame stream” sexual habits of “normal” folks. The next thing you know, blurry photos of a former governor all harnessed up and putting it to her “first dude” will pop up on the internet, as she bids for a little more “street cred” in advance of 2012.

Of course, the allure of this sort of play has been a feature of this blog from the beginning. We started with our little Aneros, which I tucked into my kit for this trip. And then, two Valentine Day’s ago, before this blog began, Mistress put her strap-on to use for the first time.

I believe it helped adjust my attitude and hers, taking us one step closer to our infamous Contract.

Of course, we aren’t the only ones in our little community dabbling in this territory.

Our WC has been known to enjoy it when his wife B straps on the harness and takes it to him.

And, of course, Suzanne frequently takes her “wife’ Tammy that way, in the “diaper” position.

(Mick is way too ancient and inflexible to handle that approach, BTW).
 

Earlier this week, Ms. Marie had a very educational product review, brought to you by EdenFantasies.com, which described newer, hi-tech approaches to this age old “problem”. It may be only a matter of time before the folks at “Snap-On Tools” get into this emerging market.

It does make me wonder how Bill, our Director of Security - International feels about missing out on this action. Maybe Donna can engineer a way for him to be part of this new and oh so hip movement.

Now, dear readers, all this talk has Mick ready to see if Mistress is ready to wake up, and tell me to go “insert my device.”

Mistress Stands. Slave Delivers.

After missing our last switch day based on my general lameness, I figured Mistress was due for some “special treatment”. With much applause from the sullen teens, I even delayed our departure time for the mountain until 10:30 am,  to assure that there was ample time for the plot to develop in our charming little bedroom here in the great southwest.

So after Mistress had an opportunity to read the blog – with my tongue firmly planted between her thighs as tradition dictates – I told her it was time to face the music.

Some rope was used to bind her wrists together in front.

Then I pulled on the long lead I had left myself, indicating it was time to get out of bed and go for a little walk.

“But Slave… it’s chilly, I’ll get so cold….”

Yeah. The usual whining. Actually the morning sun was shining through the window, warming us nicely. Mistress was not in peril of any goose bumps, let alone  frozen nipples.

I brandished some rather cruel nipple clips we have here, with big dangling rings, just to make my point.

“Do I need to get these out Mistress?”

“Ohhh, God…. Not those.”

“Then come along….”

She co-operated now, fearing for her dainty little buds, and I positioned her under the ring I installed last summer in one of the pine hand carved vegas that cross our low ceiling.

Her arms were raised. The rope was run through the ring, then tied off.

Mistress was going no where.

Her little silk nightie – one I’d gotten for her some holiday past – just grazed her firm ass.  I took the time to snap a few photos form various angles, with Mistress having the right of approval before posting, of course.

Then I grabbed the riding crop which we had tucked into our closet to keep from the prying eyes of house guests.

I also made sure the radio was on – some early Sunday jazz – so that the teens would not be shocked at their parents’ antics.

The first slap of the crop seemed to catch Mistress by surprise.

“Owww…. That hurt Slave….”

It was followed by a few more…..I enjoyed seeing Mistress hop and squirm tethered to the ceiling, up on her toes a bit…. her little “happy dance” was quite delightful.

“Did you miss your switch day last Sunday, Mistress?”

“I did Slave….”

“You seemed to enjoy your little date with M yesterday, Mistress.  I bet you’d like him doing these things to you here, wouldn’t you.”

“Would you like it, Slave?”

She got a sharp slap with the crop for avoiding my question.

“Ohhhh…..”

“Of course I would, but that wasn’t the question, was it Mistress?”

There is nothing like interrogating a bound Mistress with a riding crop at your disposal.

“You know I would Slave.”

At about this time I slid myself up behind Mistress. Reaching around her for a handful of breast .

“I think you’re enjoying this, Slave.”

No doubt she could feel my thickening cock poking from the folds of the blue robe I was wearing.

“Absolutely, Mistress…”

My right hand dipped between her thighs, sliding through those silky, sopping, clean shaven folds.

“And it seems you are too…..”

After stepping back and giving her just a few more slices with the crop, I remarked on how nice and red her bottom had become.  My fingers caressed the little red marks. They would fade soon enough, but it was nice to feel how warm her ass was, as it shifted wantonly against my soothing fingers.

I stepped back again, and pulled the power tool from the its little hideaway, unwinding the extension cord.  Mistress could not tell exactly what I was doing, until she heard the Hitachi “hmmmm” to life.

I embraced her standing body from behind, my cock poking a bit into her ass cheeks, and reached around her with the magic wand.  I could almost feel her body melt as the soft white bulb pressed home against her, her thighs spreading as best they could to accommodate it.

“Now remember, Mistress, you need to ask permission to come.”

The little slut must have been fully primed, because it seemed it was only a minute or so later that she was begging for leave. And I was a pushover – as usual – and gave my consent.

That sent her into some nice shuddering convulsions that had her hanging from her wrist bindings, head dropped down, moaning ever so deliciously.

And by then I was more than ready to join the fun.

So I released her bound wrists from the little ring, and pulled her back to the bed.

Her wrists were still tied, and I pushed them over her head as I took my reward, sliding into her.

Of course, I made sure Mistress came at least one more time before I was the one asking for permission.

As we rested in each others arms afterwards, still with some time before our skis would meet the fresh snow that had fallen overnight, I asked Mistress if I had made up for our missing switch day.

“Of course Slave…. But you scared me with those nipple clips.”

“Maybe next Sunday, Mistress….”

Staff Support Comes Through

Molly, Mick and the two dommes in training made it to our little mountain hideaway very early on Saturday morning. Maybe around 3 am, mountain time. Of course, the teens reminded me that that was really 5 am “their time”, in their effort to lobby for a very late start up to the ski mountain on What was already Saturday.

And Slave was fine with that. I was in no hurray and knew that there were other needs to tend to in our cozy bed before the skis were loaded up.

So it was the unusual morning when Slave slept until the sun was peeking up over the mountain, lighting our cozy room, giving the woodwork a rosy glow.

Naturally, I was grateful for Donna filling in for me yesterday, which allowed me to tend to Mistress’s needs when she was ready to wake up and receive my attention.

As I attended to her glistening folds with my tongue, Mistress read Donna’s posting, and then I urged her to check out All Mine and the lengthy commentary from the WC. If you haven’t read it, you need to catch the link, here. (The WC's contribution appears in the comments section.)

It amounts to a clever supplement to his infamous tutorial on taking a virgin ass, describing how one explains the planned event to get medical clearance from her physician.

Mistress was amused. Sort of.

“Slave, I think WC’s writing more on Suzanne’s blog than ours these days.”

“Maybe we need to formalize this job sharing arrangement, Mistress. Though I doubt Suzanne want to pick up a piece of M’s lavish expense account.”

But soon the computer was set aside, and Mistress was enjoying her first mountain zone orgasm of our Spring Break with the teens. She knew I was still rather tired from that long trip and short sleep, so she pushed me onto my back.

“Let me suck my cock, Slave….”

I was more than happy to take her lead, and enjoyed her warm and tender lips surrounding my growing shaft. Soon she had me begging to fuck her, and she was generous in granting my wish.

Ultimately, we made our fashionably late appearance on the mountain. The snow is getting a little thin, but the sun was glorious. After lunch, Mistress and Surly #1 adjourned to some lounge chairs, stripping to their sports bras, which I suspect earned them some admiring glances.

I took a few more runs with the other teen, who is a Boarder.

By 4 pm we were all back to our cabin, and I was crashing.

“Would you like to fuck me now, Slave, Mistress queried, as closed the door to our room for the traditional après ski “nap time”.

“I was thinking nap first, sex after if that’s OK, Mistress.”

“Of course it is Slave….”

But then the fates intervened. Or at least a text from our freelancing WC/PT of the CEO did.

“Hmmm…. He wants me to call Slave…. Would you mind?”

Well, who was I to mind…. I know my place, and simply asked if Mistress would like me to pull out her power tool, which had been tucked away since our last visit.

“I’m not sure it’s going to be that type of call, but then better be safe than sorry, Slave.”

I dug the Hitachi and it’s extension cord out of our closet, plugged it in for Mistress, and gave her a quick kiss as I pulled on my robe.

“I’ll just be out in the living room, Mistress. And will turn n the radio to protect you from prying ears.”

“Thank you, Slave.”

She had that little gleem in her eye, that said, “Hmmm, I may be about to get some….”

I closed the door behind me, settled onto the couch with the local paper, amusing myself for a while at the small town political hijinks, then must have dozed off.

Maybe 30 minutes later, Mistress pulled to door ajar, and whispered, “why don’t you come back to bed now Slave.”

I did, shedding the robe, snuggling up close to her.

“So how did it go, Mistress….”

“It was nice Slave…. We ended up having a little session….”

“How many Mistress?”

“Ohhh…. Two Slave…..”

“and what did he have you doing in your little imaginary adventure?”

“Sort of the usual…. Except he came into this room and made me suck his cock….”

“Ahhh…. I am sure you’d like that, Mistress.”

Knowing that Mistress’s afternoon needs had been properly handled by her personal trainer, I did not feel too guilty when I asked for permission to resume my nap.

“It’s OK, Slave…. I’m good.”

Indeed, she seemed ready for a nap too.

So while our Senior Correspondent picked up the slack for me on the blogging front yesterday, it was nice that the WC/PT was able to assume some of the “burden” of performing my other duties here as I bounced back from that long travel day.

I guess that’s the benefit of developing this deep and multi-skilled management team here at UCTMW.

From our Senior Correspondent ... "Players"

(Molly, Mick and the two surly teens are now parked at DFW airport, cooling our heals. We still have a flight to ABQ and a 3 hour drive to our mountain hideaway to look forward to.  But presuming we make it, we look forward to waking up to the beautiful mountain, the sun rising and lighting up our bedroom. When that happens the long trip will have been worthwhile.  Of course, Slave won't be in a state of mind for posting in the a.m.  There will be a Mistress to please, and then wrestling all that ski paraphenalia up the mountain for a day on the slopes.  So,  I asked our Senior Correspondent to pitch in.... and like the hard working over achiever that she is, she delivered.... have a good Saturday, all. And thank you, Donna.)

I tutored football players as a means of making ends meet while in college and one player, in particular, I dated more than a few times. He was a good looking hulk of a guy. One evening we went to a movie house and watched some dull and desperate film required for his humanities class. We shared a few brews followed by some kissy face and some hand wandering and, since I was still living in the dorm and had a prude as a roommate, a trip to his apartment. I was so jazzed, so anxious to experience this sexy looking man that I worked extra hard to ignore the stench from his dirty gym clothes strewn here and there and the stained jock strap on the kitchen counter. With firm resolve to scrub my entire body with Comet upon returning to my dorm, I leaned into Mr. Football and we began the dance of…something.

Have you ever seen birds copulate? If you blink, you’ll miss it. And, bless his heart, Rocco was the same way. I tried to get him to slow down, to let me help him a bit in this endeavor as I did in his academic subjects, but he only knew and wanted missionary position and as fast as he was on his feet on the football field, he was also that fast to the goal line in the bedroom. I was left with that old Peggy Lee song running through my head, Is That All There Is? Tilt! We tried again, repeatedly in fact, but the poor guy only knew that one pattern and wasn’t interested in trying anything new or even hearing about anything different. He passed his classes and I admit that I was not terribly saddened by his move to another city. 

Now before you write me off as a monster, let me assure you that if he had given me any inkling that he might be willing to let lovemaking be a team sport (for the two of us not the entire football team…although that might have had some merit, too) I would have been happy to continue dating him. But I knew I needed something that a sprinter couldn’t offer. And I couldn’t have been too cruel because he continued to call me from time to time hoping we could get back together, even the morning that Bill and I were married.

Bill and I have been friends since we were kids. My brother was his best friend so we were around one another a great deal as teenagers. Initially, of course, not together in a sexual way but as found we had a teasing streak in common and that we understood the undercurrents to one another’s jokes, things heated up. Even as young people Bill and I were good lovers. With plenty of foreplay and a bit of bondage we would begin building the mood and then shifting gears, we would kick it up and over into reckless abandon.  Adding in a few spanks and a bite or two from Bill and we were both headed over the edge! We didn’t know what it was really called (the kinky part) but we knew we both liked it and knew that is wasn’t all that common. Then, as often happens, we went our separate ways after high school, Bill toward the land of Hurricanes and me toward Gatorland.

By the time we found one another again a few years after college, we had both had enough sexual experiences to recognize that together we had something special not shared by many. Bill had developed his Dom nature and, while a tough cookie outside our home, my need to be submissive in the bedroom was clear to us both. We didn’t have much club experience, and the internet wasn’t available the way it is now, but for us it has always been about BDSM and love. I firmly believe that to leave out either component would have left both of us wanting and incomplete.

Every once in a while someone will ask me whether it has been boring being with the same man all these years. My answer is “Hell , No! When Bill mounts me from behind like the wild stallion that he is, it feels powerful and animalistic and it is a wonderful thing! As he reaches around to twist my nipples and pinch and swat my clit, I scream with that mix of pain and delight known only to the kinky.”

Of course, by that point whoever asked me that question is usually backward away…very slowly.