A Comment from Ireland and a Dispatch from our Science Correspondent from the Road

Mistress and Slave did not have nearly enough “intimate” time together yesterday in River City. I had to be up and out the door by 6 am for an all day engagement in our state’s flat as a pancake capitol. So I had to leave Mistress behind, snoozing in bed, as I crept out toe door, sans our normal “wake-up” sex.

I know that will have many of you groaning in commiseration.

By the time I got home at 7 pm, the sullen teens were demanding to be taken out to dinner. And by the time that was over, well, Slave was bone tired. I did make sure to fulfill my obligations to Mistress by giving her a long slow worship as she lounged in bed, that new nightie hiked up to her waist as my tongue and lips bobbed and weaved through her clean shaven folds.

Her nectar is rather addictive, so I needed a fix, even if my work-a-day cock was a little too fried for proper service. (Actually it was my brain that was fried, the two need to work together, at least at this stage of an aging pampered Slave’s life). And Mistress seemed to enjoy the fruits of my labor.

We both seemed to sleep very well after that little activity was concluded with Mistress moaning her satisfaction, hips rising to meet my mouth in her final throes of ecstasy.

One thing that thrilled me yesterday as I sat in my long meeting, in  a lull in the action, was seeing an anonymous comment that seemed to come from the Emerald Isle, in response to my posting about our President tipping a pint with some long lost relatives there earlier in the week. If you haven’t seen the video, check it out here: Barack and his Guiness.

This gentleman (I’m assuming that, I guess), noted that his grandfather had fought along side my adopted namesake, Michael Collins, during the 1917 era uprising against British colonial rule, then had been at cross purposes with him during the sad Civil War that followed between the purer “Republicans” and those who were willing to settle for political independence for the southern counties. I felt that a little bit of history was connecting us through this crazy blog. Thanks for the comment, sir! Let’s both lift a pint in memory of your grandfather and his heroism this weekend, which celebrates Memorial Day here in the states.

Now before I am off to break my sad 24 hour abstinence with my lovely, Mistress, I’m happy to share this dispatch from our Senior (and more recently Science) Correspondent Donna, wrapping up some persona leave in her home state of Florida. We’ve missed her, and yes, with this dispatch in the bank, you can consider your leave ended on Thursday, Donna. I will make sure our payroll department is clued in!

As my time in Florida grows to a close, I am so damn anxious to get home to my Dom, my home, and my mountains. While the medical care has been unbelievably positive and amazing, I am in need, real need, of my Bill. I am not vanilla, I am not happy in the vanilla world, and I am only complete, whole and balanced when living my BDSM lifestyle. I find that everything for me is interpreted through that lens.

As I waited in line for my herbal brew this morning, I noticed a newspaper opened to a page with an illustration of muscles. Odd. I looked closer, and right off the bat, in bold capital letters in the first paragraph, I saw the word DOMS! Yes, my heart did a dance of joy. If I can’t be with my Dom right now, at least I can live vicariously through someone else. 

Being so very impressed that this particular newspaper would be open-minded enough to include an article on Doms, I snatched that section of the newspaper and started to read, Sadly, I was wrong. It turns out this article is about DOMS as related to sports medicine, an acronym for Delayed Onset Muscle Soreness.

As I sipped the truly difficult to swallow brew of tree bark, herbs and who knows what else that is called tea here, I tried hard to hold onto my positive thoughts and reconsidered what I had just read. I thought about the fact that all subs have been in situations where they were so into what was happening to their pussy, boobs, cock or balls that they didn’t pay attention to how far they were being pulled, filled or stretched or how hard they were being pinched, tugged or bitten and they experienced muscle soreness the following day. There just might be information that would be useful in this article, and it just might be that the person who came up with the acronym DOMS is into the lifestyle and thought this was funny; I know that would be something my Dom would do.

As I continued to read, certain phrases stood up…I mean out. As I scanned the article I saw the phrase “post-workout euphoria can leave you feeling pumped to conquer the world.” Oh, I certainly agree with that, and when my Dom is pumped, or I am pumping him, euphoria is sure to follow.

Then I read “eccentric muscle contraction when the muscle lengthens as it contracts.” And clearly, at that point I could see that this article was for our world. As I play with Bill using some rubbing, a little nibbling and bit of sucking, (he likes a whole lot of sucking) he lengthens and after a while contractions and shudders start. It’s all there!

“Next day soreness is a good thing, forcing the muscles to adapt so next time there is less damage, less soreness and less recovery time – basically you are stronger.” Now that’s what I’m talking about! Our Doms and this lifestyle make us stronger, healthier, able to leap tall buildings…well that may be a bit over the top. Haha, leap buildings-over the top. Yep, it’s a for sure thing that I need more caffeine.

So what is the upshot (I love that word) of the article? It tells the reader to work up and cool down (we call that foreplay and after care in our world), to incorporate massage and a warm bath into the routine (oh, yeah), to vary the pace, fast and slow, hard and easy (oh my, yes!) and participate in activities frequently and regularly to avoid muscle stiffness (preaching to the choir, man).

What an enlightening and timely article considering that I will be back home in the arms of my very own Dom on Saturday. I will be sure to put all this information to good use, and maybe I’ll even write a little note to the author and let him know how his article applies so well to the BDSM world. Won’t he be surprised, or maybe not?

Hugs to all,
Donna

P.S. - I will fly home on Saturday. I have just one more medical appointment tomorrow afternoon and then head for the airport early Saturday morning. Should you hear that for some odd reason planes are not flying out of Orlando on Saturday, you can bet the farm that I'll be hitchhiking. One way or another, I'm getting out of Florida and heading home.

While it is working better this evening, I have only been able to access the internet for a few minutes now and then since I arrived. I am looking forward to catching up on this week's UCTMW blogs when I get home. But first, I have some significant

sexual catching up to do with Bill, and I am anxiously looking forward to that!

Great to hear from you Donna. I am sure Bill will like to see this new found knowledge put to use. Safe travels!

HNT / Mistress's New Nightie

Walking through Capitol Hill's  Eastern Market on Sunday with sullen teen #2,  we found dozens of local artisans and craftsfolk selling their wares. There was furniture. prints, jewelry paintings, and lots of hand made clothing items.

What caught my eye was an older lady who had tie-dyed a variety of vintage slips, tops and bottoms. Now you may have noticed from some of our occasional photos that Mistress is a big tie-dye fan. She has a variety of colorful dresses and tops. But a tie-dye slips, now that was something new.... I couldn't resist, though the sullen ten just rolled her eyes in disgust as I ran throught eh colorful options.

I think Mistress was happy with her little gift when we got home Sunday evening.... and she's worn it every night since.  the texture is smooth and sexy, and makes her all the more cuddly in bed.

Now I wish I had bought several!  What do you think?

A Voice from the Past

Mistress had her quota of orgasms yesterday morning in our bed, after reading our blog. But there she was perched on a chair in my office at around 10:10 am yesterday.

She had an early meeting nearby, and, well, “there’s no point in missing the opportunity, Slave….”

Slave was more than happy to accommodate, shifting the chair against the wall, letting her sit on that absorbent maroon blanket, and getting to work. I made sure to take a photo, in case you wanted to catch up on Mistress’s shoe selection, or the latest nail polish color. And the side benefit through the day was the faint aroma of her juices that coated my cheeks and lips.

Soon Mistress was strolling back to her office, and I was buried in preparation for a long meeting later this week when my cell phone rang.

“Slave…. on the way back I got a call from E… “

Strange. A voice from the past.

E was Mistress’s former college lover.

Well maybe “lover” is too grand a word for it: their sexual organs found one another in the same location two or three times after some late night partying, according to foggy legend. But what is important here is that the surprising mutual hotness of the whole “cuckold” thing between Mistress and Slave was discovered when Molly and E had a little cyber and phone flirtation back in the fall of 2009.

And all that led to the creation of this blog.

So E has taken on a key supporting character in the “Secret Origins” of UCTMW, though more as villain than hero. Here is an entry from our early days, referring to E.

However, he also was quickly land justifiably labeled a “cad” here when he unceremoniously and without explanation backed off, after amply priming Mistress’s pump.

Since then Mistress has moved on…. So this call was….

“strange, Slave… he said he wanted to explain himself… and what had happened.”

“And did you let him, Mistress….”

“I said I thought he had some explaining to do…. That after all that hype I felt rather used….”

“And for good reason, Mistress….”

We talked about it in more detail on our drive home.

“He had a story about how things with him and his wife were not where he thought they were then, so when he shared what was going on, she freaked out…”

(In fact, Mistress actually talked to the wife, at E’s encouragement…. “she was cool with it,” he said then. But…. Not so much.)

“I told him that I felt used, that he was using me to get back at his wife for her own little ‘adventures’….”

“And how did he respond?”

“He said that he could see that…. But now things are different….”

“Of course they are, Mistress….”

“Right…. Now they are “swingers”…. Supposedly they had sex with some other couple in Vegas recently….”

“Were you supposed to be impressed?”

“I told him that’s not what we do…. That my husband is not allowed to do that sort of thing…. While I have permission to do what I want, when I want….”

“That’s true, Mistress….”

“He did have a funny thing to say about you, Slave…”

“And what was that….”

“He says you were the visionary … that you had it all figured out before the rest of us….”

I laughed.

“I agreed… I said my husband is a visionary in many things….”

“I just like to make you happy, Mistress….”

By now we were almost home. Mistress had her legs up on the dash, and my free hand was roaming her supple thighs. I was planning some worship before our bike ride once we got home.

“Well…. it seemed clear that he was trying to figure a way to get things started again, Slave… and I made clear that I had moved on… that I had my hands full these days….”

“Good for you, Mistress…. but of course that is up to you.”

“That it is, Slave… but not much later he sent me a text. Something about still wanting to have my bottom over his knee and give me a good spanking….”

“In his dreams, Mistress….”

“Exactly, Slave.”

A Toast to the Emerald Isle and a Missing Apostrophe

As you might imagine, it’s no accident that the protagonists of this meandering adventure story have taken on the name of a famous Irish clan, and particularly one Mick Collins, courageous Irish freedom fighter of the 1917 uprising and thereafter. (Though the royalists no doubt thought of him as a terrorist back in his day).

Molly and Mick have been to that fair isle on several occasions, by ourselves and with girls in tow. It’s a lovely place to visit and reconnect to a shared past, though the weather can leave you a little sodden.

So yesterday, after we enjoyed our lusty morning “connection” here at the World Headquarters, we turned on the TV to the sight of our beloved (at least in this household) President, making his own homecoming, to that Island, connecting to the more remote but still meaningful roots connected to his Mother’s side of the family.

Of course, the glory of it all was that the Irish people, particularly in the small town that spruced itself up for his visit, were more than happy to overlook the complexion of our President’s skin, and accept the word of the genealogists who had uncovered the connection to a great grand grandfather. There was even a song about it, that came out during the 2008 campaign. Here's the  link to "There's No One as Irish as Barack O'Bama."

Apparently there has been no equivalent of the Donald, demanding to see the documentary proof, and wondering if it had been photo-shopped.

When Mistress and I returned home from work, we planned a bike ride, but first, of course, there was some worship. Actually the second of the day, since Mistress had joined me for lunch, and her clean shaven folds had been a lovely appetizer for me.

Mistress laid back on the bed, munching a juicy plum, while I did my own munching, taking her over the top once, then, after a little rest and conversation, me resting my head against those lovely thighs, I enjoyed a second helping. Her bucking hips and muffled sighs suggested she enjoyed my hearty appetite as well.

After the juices settled, we both reached into our respective dressers to dig out T-shirts for our ride. As it turned out, we had both focused on the theme of the day. Our grumbling Sullen teen #1 was drafted to take this photo to share with you:

I just wish I had been there in that tiny town, to tip a pint with our latest Irish-American President.