Judge Miguel Meets the Press

“I appreciate you joining us here today on such short notice.

As many of you have heard, my opponent in this year’s judicial race recently distributed a collection of emails and photos which she claimed had been collected from my government issued  cell phone, and  the computer used in my chambers.

Initially, and as a result of my failure to completely examine the “tawdry e-mail dump” as some have described it, I denied any responsibility for the contents of those messages, suggesting that somehow our systems here at the court house had been hacked or that I was the victim of some type of cyber attack or prank by my political opponents or maybe the godless Chinese.

But as I reflected on the materials that members of the press gave me, and the comments made in the media to some of the recipients of those emails, I must admit, to my embarrassment, that yes, I was their author and source.

Over the last few years, I have been in contact via the internet and email with a number of women. I saw those contacts as a way for me to better understand the world and values of so many of the defendants who appear before me in Court, accused of various sordid crimes, or  involved in civil disputes that involve communications over the internet, and claims of cyber harassment, copyright infringement, or defamation.

Having grown up in a world where the means of communication were by the written word or telephone,  it made sense to me to do some interactive research in order to better comprehend how these new technologies impacted the behavior and lives of the individuals and entities that come before this Court on a regular basis.

I simply wanted to be a better and more compassionate Judge of those who came before me seeking justice.

To the extent that my intentions were confused, then I apologize to the persons with whom I communicated. And I certainly regret any embarrassment that may have inadvertently been imposed on my devoted family, or this Court.

Now I would be happy to take some of your questions:

Q. Judge, some of your emails and other postings use the title “WC” or “Western Correspondent”. Have you been earning extra money not disclosed on your annual ethics disclosures?”

A. The answer is “No.”. My role as a writer for a certain website was purely hypothetical. And while it may appear that I complained from time to time that my paycheck had not arrived, or that I had not been reimbursed for certain expenses, or that the media empire in question had failed to install the hot tub promised to me, rest assured that no money or items of value actually changed hands.

Q. One of the emails references a “sentence” you imposed involving the use of clothespins on a woman’s nipples while she masturbated. I have two questions, first, was the sentence actually imposed? And second, did it have the effect that you had hoped?

A. First, let me say that I don’t recall that specific sentence. But if it was imposed, it was not part of my regular docket here in court, but was only an experiment that might have been used in a real case only if approved by the Governor’s sentencing commission. As for the effect, I suppose you would have to ask the woman who agreed to participate in that experiment.

Q. In various emails and postings an acronym is used with the letters “SOC”. Can you tell us what that is?

A. Ummmmm…. As you know from examining the emails, much of the material appears to have been written by other individuals. You would have to ask them the meaning of that term.

Q. What is “UCTMW” and who are Molly and Mick Collins?

A. To the best of my understanding, UCTMW is simply a website or blog that posts fictional accounts about the lives of two people using those names. I have never met those individuals, and therefore cannot confirm or deny that they actually exist.

Q. Have you had phone sex with this woman, Molly Collins?

A. I don’t know what you mean by that term.  Have I talked to her on the phone?…. Yes. I have talked to a person using that name.  Do I know what she was actually doing on the other end of the line?  No. Next question…. Yes, you in the blue dress…

Q. Some of the photos attached to your text messages appear to be of a male sexual organ in various states of ‘anger’…. Can you verify for us that the penis depicted is yours?

A. Well, let me just say that I cannot with certitude deny that those photos are not of my body. But as you know photos, like penises, can be manipulated and altered. In fact, that was one of the reasons I set forth on this research project, because I had heard from various witnesses that photos used as evidence in my courtroom had somehow been altered or ‘photoshopped’ as some call it…. I hope that answers your question, young lady.

Q. It doesn’t actually, Your honor…. Would it be possible to arrange for an inspection of the ‘real deal’ in order to put to rest the allegation that you’ve been emailing photos of your penis from your chambers to this Molly Collins?

A. Why don’t you send me an email, and we will see if suitable arrangements can be made….. If you talk to my Bailiff he can give you my new private email address. 

Well, ladies and gentlemen, I hope than answers your questions. I intend to go back to work now…. Making sure that justice is done… certainly a wiser man as a result of this experience.

from this experience.

Molly and Mick at the Movies

Yesterday, on our drive home Molly and Mick were all abuzz over the meltdown of that NY Congressman on TV yesterday afternoon. Mistress even texted the WC about it, and when it became apparent that he was behind the news curve we called with a full update.

I mean, who would think about sending or posting lewd photos of themselves to putative strangers?

Shocking.

As we chatted about this on our drive, I must say I was a little distracted by Mistress’s summer attire. The short, cotton dress. The long tanned legs. I even got her to hand me her little I-phone camera for a shot as we did the bumper to bumper thing on the highway north. Those lovely, muscular thighs quickly put me in the mood for some worship when we arrived home, and before our bike ride in the sultry summer heat.

I had missed an opportunity to worship at lunch time, because my own lunch meeting went longer than planned, so I made sure that Mistress got a double dose of pleasure as I settled in the taste those musky juices.

But what I wanted to talk about this morning was a movie Mistress and I had watched via netflix over the weekend. The 1981 classic, Body Heat.

No doubt our fans of a certain age have seen it before. A film noir throw back, starring the young William Hurt and Kathleen Turner as, respectively, a small town lawyer and femme fatale gold digger, with smaller roles for the then unknown Micky Rourke and Ted Danson. Here is the trailer, which as is common, misrepresents the story line a bit to fill seats…. I mean, there is no gunplay in this movie, so what’s with the pistol shots?

The dialog may be a bit dated, and the scenes a little slower paced than what we’ve come to expect, but the heat generated by the two main characters has not faded with the years.

What impressed me was the rather explicit sex, and the semi-nude scenes showing a good deal of the main characters.

There was even a rather compelling sequence with Turner on her stomach, clearly being taken from behind, dripping sweat, moaning with delight, that made you wonder whether we were talking anal sex.

I guess we may need to get an opinion from our staff Expert Assotologist.

What struck me is that this movie has much more explicit sexual imagery than any of the mainstream Hollywood movies of recent vintage. Sure there are occasional independent flicks with occasional steamy sex that get NR status. But Hollywood stars going at it, showing all?

The Hollywood movies today seem to go for the “gross out” or “shock” factor when it comes to sex. Something that seemed to start with “There's Something About Mary” in 1998. So in “Wedding Crashers” there is that faux sexy scene where the hot little sister ties Vince Vaughn to her bed. Then, just last week, we took sullen teen #2 to see “Hangover 2”, only to be embarrassed by a scene involving Ed Helms getting fucked in the ass by a drag queen in Bangkok.

Not something you want to share with a teenaged daughter.

So instead of hot sex between consenting adults, Hollywood now seems more interested in serving up “Yuck”

I know…. I’m sounding like my Mom.

At any rate, Body Heat definitely got a cock and nipple “up” from Molly and Mick. Check it out if you’ve not seen it in a while, or if you were wee lads or lassies in 1981. And give us your own recommendations for another trip to the movies here at UCTMW. We're always looking for achance to stay home and get turned on.

Finally. Before heading upstairs where I need to slide into bed next to Molly, I wanted to pass on a little of our conversation yesterday evening at dinner…. Have no fear, the sullen teens were otherwise engaged.

“So I mentioned to the WC that I’m going to the gynecologist tomorrow, Slave…”

“I bet he found that amusing….”

“Yeah, I think he has a fantasy about being a gynecologist, and all the women he might have the chance to ‘inspect’….”

“Sound like M…”

“So he says, when you’re waiting for him to come in the room, why don’t you get yourself off, so that it’ll be easier for him to slide those instruments in….”

I think at that point I began choking on my steelhead trout.

“And you said….”

“I don’t think so M….”

“I mean wouldn’t the guy be able to tell that you were…. Shall we say…. Pre-lubricated?”

I am imagining that tell tale musky aroma of Mistress permeating that little examining room…. Deadly.

Mistress just rolled her eyes. But we did agree to pass this subject onto our readers. If only to give you a better sense of how deeply twisted our WC can be at times.


And here I was, complaining about gross out movies, only moments ago.

Back in the Saddle

Slave got a few days of blogging hiatus, thanks to our Senior Correspondent and Mistress’s own contribution over the weekend, in which she took the opportunity to get a few things off her divine chest.

But that’s not to suggest that our fun went dark here in River City these last few days. No, despite a day spent at our daughter’s college orientation on Friday, Mistress got a reasonable allocation of orgasms these last few days, and Slave can’t complain either.

But since it’s  a work day, and I want to make sure there is timing for some morning “activity” here at the World HQ before we head to work, let me pick up on Sunday morning, our weekly Switch Day.

Mistress and Slave both slept in a little later than normal, and even after I came back to bed with the morning papers, Mistress was otherwise engaged, spending some time finishing a work project on her laptop that had been bugging her all weekend. There was even a brief chat with our WC, as he headed to a Sunday morning golf game.

But when the time came…. Well Mistress found herself with those red leather cuffs locked on tight, on her tummy, her arms spread to the corners of our bed.

Nice and helpless…. Just the way I like her every now and then.

I took a few photos, so there would be something to share with all of you. Then I lazily spread my nakers self across her lovely body. My guess is she could feel the semi-rigid work-a-day cock sliding between her cheeks, as I spread little tender kisses across her neck and slowly worked the muscles in her neck and shoulder with my fingers.

“You’ve been so nice to me lately, Mistress that it would seem cruel to get out the riding crop.”

“”Well that’s good news, Slave….”

Soon I was sliding off her and reaching for the Hitachi Magic wand, tucked under our bed.

I worked it over her lower back, which produced little purrs of delight. But when it ran down the back of her thighs, and to the sole of her foot, the delight turn to shivers and wiggles and squirms, with Mistress trying to evade the vibrating tool.

“That tickles, Slave…”

“It could be worse, Mistress…..”

But I didn’t make it worse…. Like I said, I was a bit of a pushover yesterday. Soon the vibrating ball was sliding up the inside of her thigh, and under her squirming hips….. back to the place where Mistress likes it.

She was squirming more sensually now, and the aroma of her juices teased my nostrils. My cock, like the foolish little robot it has become for her, was getting harder just from that scent, and the sight of her ass and thigh muscles flexing and relaxing, then flexing again, to squeeze a little more “whoopee” from the Hitachi.

As she squirmed, I decided to apply a little “tart” to the “sweet’, and used my free hand to spank that delicious butt, timing my swats to the de-clench of her lusty cycle, which seemed to speed the rhythm of her little dance of debauchery to a snappier beat.  Maybe you can see that little red glow her cheek acquired, even as she was working herself against that little throbbing ball.

“Remember to ask permission, Mistress… or there could be consequences….”

She moaned, her ass rising and falling even faster now, her thighs clinging greedily to the wand as I did my best to hold it in place….

“Can I come now, Slave….”

“Let me hear you say ‘please’….”

She did, and I required that please a few more times, for good measure, before I gave my consent.

She sighed on relief, but then a  funny thing happened…With my consent in the bank, she seemed to back away from the brink, and take her time to work her wake back up to the pinnacle of frustration…. Clenching, relaxing, then clenching those muscles, her thigh muscles flexing, her legs bending up at the knees, toes curling, a frenetic rhythm of motion that was s delight for this humble provocateur to behold.

I did my best to keep up, with my hand firmly gripping the churning tool, trying to maintain contact with her sopping little cunt.

Finally, with a sound that started deep in her chest, and with her muscles straining from calf to shoulders, Mistress roared over the cliff, first for one nifty cum, then, barely missing a beat, she shifted to a higher gear, treating herself to another one before begging me to thumb her favorite toy off.

When she was done, her chest was heaving, and little beads of sweat had broken out on her back.  My tongue lapped them up as I let her catch her breath.

But she wasn’t done.

“Fuck me now, Slave….”

I was anxious to accommodate her, and too lazy to flip her over just yet, so I mounted her from behind….

“Watch for the right hole, Slave….”

Not a problem. We’re keeping that ass virgin for now, but it was easy to finding the correct aperture, and soon I was pumping into Mistress… rough and greedy.

She seemed to take it well, coming at least once more that way,  before I released her wrists and flipped her over… taking my own pleasure… with permission of course.

Now it’s the start of another work week, and the final school week here for our teens here in River City…. and somehow, writing all this out makes me want to head upstairs and get another fix of Mistress before we all put our noses to the grindstone once again.

A Busy Morning for Our Senior Correspondent

 Molly and Mick were busy Friday and Saturday taking sullen teen #1 to her orientation for the next stage in her life --- lots of helicopter moms hovering, and of course we couldn't let our little darling feel neglected or lonely in comparison to her soon-to-be classmates. So we called on our Senior Correspondent Donna to deliver a little of the naughty that you've come t expect from us here at UCTMW.  And as you can see from the following that she has delivered.  In fact, she and Bill have raised the bar....

Bill was on a roll early Friday morning. After cuddling and talking for a few minutes, he sized up my physical condition and attitude, and realized there was work to be done if he hoped to keep me out of trouble for the day.

Now I have admitted previously that I am a tad OCD, although I would rather use the acronym CDO because I prefer the letters be in alphabetical order. That degree of focus can work well for us or it can create problems depending on whether I am spinning my wheels and becoming more and more frustrated or whether I am actually accomplishing something useful. On Friday morning, I was spinning my wheels.

Bill, in all his Domliness, made the unilateral decision to change things up and tire me out so much that I would be content to read and relax for the remainder of the day.

When I leaned over to kiss Bill before heading for the shower, he reached around my shoulders and pulled me around, positioned my body on top of him in our bed. He let me know by the movement of his face against my chest that he wanted me to move up so he could suck on my nipples. I do love that! While there are parts of passing the age of 50 that are not so sweet, the fact that my boobs hang a little lower than they once did is a bonus in this situation. At 38DD, my breasts are large enough that with just a bit of finagling and positioning, Bill can get both my nipples into his mouth at one time.WOW! Amazing tingles and electric currents zipped right to my clit as he continued to suck and as I rubbed against him. I had a nice soft buzz going on.

He then pulled his knees up so my back was supported and I had an easy cowgirl ride while he massaged my breasts and ran his warm hands down my chest and belly to my groin. where he pinched and rubbed my clit in time with my ride. All of a sudden he grabbed my hips and stopped all movement. I assumed we were having an earthquake or some other natural disaster. Why on earth would you stop something that felt that good?

But Bill had other plans.

He flipped me onto my back and leaned over to get the Hitachi and lube from my bedside drawer. I really enjoy my Hitachi, but it certainly isn’t a replacement for Bill’s cock, it just isn’t. But when I looked into Bill’s eyes, I knew that saying anything would be a waste of breath, so I waited. He reached under the bed where we keep a beach towel for play time, folded it over several times and scooted it under my hips, saying that I would be coming hard and often and he didn’t want any lip about who would be resting on the wet spot on the bed.

With that done, he flipped the switch on the Hitachi and held it against my clit. As good as it felt, it quickly became too much, and not so good. He told me I could take it and I would take it and he began to use his other hand to hold the folds of my vulva around the vibrating head of the Hitachi. Too much, too much…going to come, begged Bill to let me come and just as he said yes, my explosion erupted.

Encouraged or maybe even challenged by thoughts of Mick and Molly’s marathon session last Sunday, Bill decided five would be a good number for me to achieve for Friday morning, so we had four more to go. What, four more? And he carefully explained that I would come a total of five times, but not without permission. Holy Moley! He also stated that no two comes would be identical, and they would all take place within the next hour. No pressure there, well actually there was some exquisite pressure as Bill grabbed his cock and began beating it against my nipple as he knelt beside me. With his other hand, he placed the Hitachi in my hands, turned it on and told me to hold it against my rectum rather than my clit. That vibration, accompanied by his penis smacking my left nipple and his other hand swatting my cunt, sent me over the top in record time. Bill gave me his enigmatic smile and held up two fingers.

The next thing I knew, Bill was placing a knee on either side of my head, grabbing my hair and lifting my head to place another pillow under my head for support. Then he painted my lips with his pre-come and nodded, giving me the sign to open my mouth while his arm reached behind his back to rub my clit. My warm, sucking mouth pulling hard against his penis and my tongue pressing again his slit felt great to me and must have felt equally great to him because within a few minutes we were both shooting for the stars. And Bill held up three fingers.

I tried to protest that I was spent, that I was too tired for any more and he just shook his head and reminded me that sassing and having a smart mouth are punishable offenses and asked me if I really wanted to go down that path.

No, sir, I didn’t.

He rose from the bed and grabbed our newest toy to review for edenfantasies, a slut paddle (more on that later in the week). Bill rolled me over and the new paddle did a great job of making that crackling noise in the air and delivering a sharp ouch to my butt cheek, and then the other cheek and as Bill spread my legs I knew what was coming next and tried not to tighten up, but couldn’t help it as “whack” the paddle connected with my slit. In a strange version of a waltz tempo, there was a one, two, three - one, two three of left cheek, right check and center, repeated again and again… and then it stopped and when I lifted my head to see why it had stopped, he popped me over my clit. Oh, gosh. No use asking permission. Too late for that. And there were four fingers held up.


At that point Bill rolled me back over onto my back, bent my knees and used pillows to hold them in that position. He ran his hands over my face, asking if I was tired, massaging my shoulders and arms and working his way inch by inch down my body. When he reached my groin he rubbed clockwise circles, and then reversed, again and again. On the next pass, he reached into my vagina with two crooked fingers of his right hand and unerringly went right to my g-spot and applied circular internal pressure there as his left hand continued to provide massaging circles that became smaller and smaller and stronger and stronger as he brought the external massage directly over my clit. With pressure up from the inside on the g-spot and down over the clit, all I could do was beg…beg him to stop, beg him not to stop, beg him to give me permission to come, yet again.

Bill looked into my eyes in that way that lets me know he sees, he really sees me, and said the magic words, “Come for me, come on my hand.” And I did. He then smiled and held up five dripping fingers.

I was a good girl and rested on Friday, getting a stupid smile on my face on and off during the day as I thought back through all Bill had accomplished so early in the day, making it a successful and peaceful day for us both.

Maybe someone else would like to pick up the Mick and Molly coming (or not) challenge and see what they come up with. You might be pleasantly surprised at all that can be accomplished when people are hot, horny and racing the clock. I sure enjoyed it!