Countdown

With little to report from River City, I am resorting once again to sultry images of Mistress from adventures past to catch your eye. I hope you will take the photo as a fair substitute for recounting any adventures here, where  I remain a sad and lonely Slave, pining for my Mistress.

I wonder if she'll remember the when and where of this particular switch day if she has a chance to look at the blog this morning before she and the sullen teen head out for their final day of college visits before they head back to us here tomorrow morning.

Our WC understands how bereft of bloggable content I am without Mistress here as my muse. At some point yesterday afternoon he sent be a text message; "This is no way to find bog fodder."

So true, WC.

Once again, I spent my workday in the cage. I was fortunate to get early release authorization as I drove home last night, allowing me to go for a bike ride before assuring that the elder teen was well fed. I'm marveling that she is staying home and making her Dad tend to her needs, only a week before she heads off to start the next phase of her life.

Then I settled into watching the enemy combatants take the stage for the latest GOP Presidential debate. Scary stuff for those of you who think that those who hope to lead our diminished nation should have at least some limb planted in reality. The only mildly amusing Q and A was when some hapless reporter asked the Congresswoman from Mars , errr, Minnesota, what she meant when she said she was happy to "submit" to her husband, as the bible dictates.

Sadly, the response did not involve anything to do with chains, collars, or cock worship. and if you've checked out Marcus Bachmann, you can probably understand why.

But then Michelle showed her claws, bitch slapping her former Governor into a cowering hunk of flesh. I wonder how many stitches it took for his cut man to close the claw marks she left on his face during their next poddy break.

Maybe Michelle is really more Domme than Sub.


Last night, as we talked before bedtime, Mistress and I came to grips with the fact that  suddenly it is now  less than a week before our little nest is cleared out. I know, you've been hearing this dumbeat for a while now. But, in reality, the time has flown for us.

This weekend, we have a family funeral to attend a few hours away. The girls will be joining us, which is going to cramp our hopes for some quick and dirty goings on after these four nights of solitude. Then, back in River City on Sunday night, we need to get them packed up and ready to fly: one off to Europe on Wednesday for her final year of high school; the other off to college on Thursday just 90 minutes or so away.

So while things may be a little harried here, with not nearly enough time for our typical naughty these next few days..... a week from this morning we will be waking in our empty home.  

Stay tuned.

Now it's time for Slave to go shower, cage up, and face the day.

Have a good one all, and if you see Mistress on the streets of Boston today, tell her her Slave misses her.

HNT / Greatest Hits

Not much to report here at the World HQ. Mistress is on the east coast with our sullen teen. Slave is back here, wearing his cage to work and staying out of trouble .... not that I could get into much trouble with that cage locked tight.

The best I can do for you is a little trip down memory lane for those Mistress fans out there:

Here she is, surveying our little chink of heaven out West.

And there she is, primping before a day at work, sporting those teal undies.

I know she'd rather be sunbathing at 7000 feet, than in the sea level bustle out East.

And while we both love the summer, one thing that's nice about the cold weather months here are her sexy black tights.

Of course, I believe I've gotten her approval of these photos in the past, but if she dislikes any of them, I may have to be concerned about getting left in my cage longer than I'd like.  Which brings to mine this historic image, which no doubt could become a collector's item for some of the Collins clan:

Slave Solo

Mistress is off to the East Coast version of the City by the Bay with our sullen teen II, taking a tour of some college campuses.

She’s left me here in River City, with no babysitter, unlike the well supervised Tammy at All Mine. Though I do have our other teen to keep an eye on (and keep an eye on me).

Mistress went to the trouble of waking a little earlier than needed this am, making time for us to engage in some wake up sex, before we were both in the shower. I know I will miss our typical “two a days” while she is gone, and I suspect Mistress may be a little horny too before she gets home, since she and our daughter will be sharing a room on the banks of the River Charles.

I do have some rather unambiguous rules to follow while she is gone: my cage must be worn every day; I will send her a photo of me in it in the am, and of course she has the right to request a photo during the day, just to make sure I did not shed it earlier than allowed.

(I suppose I am being cut a break in that there are no “keyholders” minding my status while she is away).

I also need to ask permission to take the cage off at the end of the day. Today Mistress was generous enough to cut me some slack so I could take a bike ride before preparing dinner for our daughter and myself.

Meanwhile, out on the Coast, Mistress and our other daughter were enjoying a hearty seafood meal. Our daughter was pining for a lobster and seems to have scored.

Of course, the sad part is that Mistress is not too far from Jay and Tammy, from ALL Mine, who are sorely missing Suzanne. The thought of Mistress pitching in on the babysitting watch certainly is appealing.

But while I know Mistress is dying of curiosity to meet both of them, there is also a little trepidation about the notion of “blogs worlds” colliding. And it might be a little hard to explain who these intriguing guys are to the sullen teen.

“Mommy… exactly how do you know these guys?”

It could be a little hard to explain.

Tonight, before she went back to her hotel room and those prying ears, Mistress asked me if I wanted o exercise the privilege of taking matters into my own hands tonight.

“I’m probably OK tonight Mistress.  We had some hot sex this morning,

after all.”

That’s true, Slave, but I want you to do it on the morning when you wake up, and email me about what you were thinking about….”

“I think I can handle that assignment, Mistress.”

And so I shall.

Before shutting down for the evening, I did want to thank Donna for her very evocative post on Monday. She left a comment, and sent me an email, wondering whether her subject was a little too deep and sober for these pages.

“I don’t want to hurt your traffic at UFCTMW, Mick by bringing people down”, was the gist of her message.

Donna, not to worry.  It’s nice that you  add a touch of class to these sordid pages from time to time.  I can pander away with hot photos of Mistress and my snarky commentary the other 6 days of the week.

And if that doesn’t work, I can always toss in an ancient file photo of our Western Correspondent.

A Special Dispatch from Our Senior Correspondent

Mistress is flying off to the East in the morning with our surly teen II for some college visits. She leaves early for the airport. I plan to spend the time she has in the morning with her here in the executive suite at the World HQ, rather than composing a blog. Fortunately, our Senior Correspondent Donna sent me this very personal reflection to share with all of you.

 

I have something amazing to share. Those of you who have known me for some time are aware that one of my great pleasures is encouraging those working in the medical community with clients having paralysis or nerve damage to include BDSM as one of the issues discussed as a potential means to provide sensory and sensual stimulation. Imagine my joy when I received this email last week. Hello Donna,  I wanted to share with you about a session that I did a few weeks ago with a man who has Spina Bifida. His parents were on board and very supportive. The session was absolutely a fantastic learning experience. I am so glad I had the opportunity. xo, Collette Believe me when I say that when that email came in, I was doing my own version of the dance of joy! Not only was the twenty-something year old man willing to express his desires and needs, but his parents heard, understood the depth of meaning behind his words and set out to find a way to help him. I felt elation that my friend was willing to help. The creative, intelligent and beautiful Mistress Collette, a Domme who evaluates and trains other Doms, Dommes, subs and slaves, chose to honor this man's request. Clearly it would have been less involved, less time consuming and less risky for her to simply decline. With all the support she has graciously provided me over the time I have known her, I am not at all surprised she agreed to help, but I am deeply touched to have a person of this character and quality as my friend.   And I was also honored to know that it was the work of Master R, who has for many years faced down the stigma, judgment and pettiness of others while operating a training chateau, who refused to listen to naysayers and took yet another bull by the horns in writing the history of BDSM in the US. That book, when read by this young man’s parents, gave them the confidence they needed to put things in motion for this to unfold for their son. After getting everything set up, the young man’s parents drove him to La Domaine and visited upstairs with Master R while their son had a training session with Mistress Collette.  It went wonderfully well and the young man is more confident and happier than he has been in a long time. His parents will be taking him back to visit again. And just to be clear, this wasn’t about sex; it was about bondage, domination and the sensory stimulation of BDSM. It was about providing a non-judgmental environment with someone familiar with BDSM methods and tools to assess how this man’s body best responds to sensory stimuli even though he is paralyzed from the waist down and has others major health concerns. What amazing parents these people are!  To me, everyone who had a role in this is amazing. The young man, his parents, Mistress Collette and Master R all deserve gold stars in my book! You know, I realize it may be hard for folks not living in or near the disabled world to understand the freedom that comes with BDSM scenes and/or sex. The last time I attempted to write about BDSM and disabilities (at a different blog) there were a few comments made that led me to believe I hadn’t been clear enough to help people understand the differences between vanilla sex and BDSM sex for those with nerve damage. I can’t speak to all disabilities, but I can tell you how this works for me. The very basic missionary position of vanilla sex leaves me helpless on my back, unable to provide stimulation for Bill or to receive enough stimulation for either of us to orgasm. While vanilla sex can be much more than missionary position, the end result is most often a penis in a vagina, and that is not a successful sexual scenario for me. I am confined by and in some parts of my life defined by assistive devices. That's just the way it is and it isn’t always a negative thing, but it is fraught with frustration and sometimes I need a release. Not just a sexual release, I need a sensual, sexual and emotional release. I need to feel that I have some power, and in my BDSM relationship with Bill, my power is as a sub. In the exchange of power that is at the heart of BDSM, when Bill ties me to a chair or the bed with rope or straps, he knows it is what I need, what I want. And even though I am more confined within his ropes than by the assistive devices I use during the day, in the ropes there is a feeling of peace, of freedom. Sometimes Bill stimulates my butt, dribbles lube down my crack and inserts a plug. He swings a paddle and heats and reddens my cheeks, the flogger stripes my back and feeling all those sensations makes me feel alive, really alive. He flips me over and ties me to the bed, uses the flogger on my breasts and beginning near my feet, he crawls slowly up my body, dragging his warm skin against mine. He kneels over my chest, he tugs my hair and feeds me his cock. I feel, I smell, I taste, I hear the sounds we are both making and I need them all. They heal me. I feel whole. I am this man's sub and he is pleased by my service to him. All I need to focus on right then is Bill. He will lead me through all these sensations. On a psychological level, I know I can do this physical thing as well as any able bodied person. It matters to me, and I think it would matter to most people. I suppose the point of all this is to say that while most people can find their way through the maze of life to meet their sexual needs, some can’t and need a friend or sometimes even a parent or two to listen to what they are really saying and offer a word of encouragement, suggest a book, or send an online link. It would be a most wonderful thing if BDSM wasn’t shunned as some dark terrible thing, but for now the best we can do is attempt to lessen that perception one person at a time. BDSM isn't right for everyone, but people should know that it is something to consider, especially for those folks who might benefit from the special gifts BDSM has to offer. Hugs, Donna -- Molly and Mick Collins Reply Forward