Our Senior Correspondent Plans Her Amazing Adventure

Both Mistress and Slave had very busy work days yesterday, and other developments arose that have us delaying our departure for our branch office in the mountains until tomorrow morning. As we were lying in bed last night, both burned out, we got a very welcome call from Donna our Senior Correspondent. She was passing on the good news that a blog for this morning would be found in my email in box!

Lovely. Hope you enjoy it.

 I mentioned in the blog last week that I will soon be traveling to a training facility for some sub training. I thought this might be a convenient time to share with you what’s happening with my training plans.

Excitement is what’s happening! At this time next week I will be at La Domaine!

Next Monday I will be flying to a far away city where Master R and Mistress Collette will be picking me up and taking me to La Domaine for four days. We have been working on coordinating this for several months, so to see it all come together is wonderful.

In getting ready, I have been to the local seamstress for some work on my leather bustier and some vests.  I live in a very conservative area of the country and when I called and described what I needed,  the seamstress said she would be happy to help me but I would need to be there between 8 and 9 in the morning, before her regular customers arrive. Okay.

I headed over the following morning and she was just as nice as she could be. She told me that she does a great deal of leather work for motorcyclists and with that, she tipped her head, waggled her eyebrows and nodded a bit as she said, “You know what I mean.” And yes I did. With that, she pointed to a little dressing room and said that even though I had marked it, she needed to see the bustier on me to make it fit just right. This little bit of a woman proceeded to tell me to “suck it in” and pulled the laces and leather tighter than I ever have. In her sweet little Sunday school voice she told me to throw my shoulders back, that if you are going to wear one of these you need to be proud. I am, so I did, and she fit it accordingly.

Today I had a call from Mistress Collette and she and I talked about my limits. We talked about pain, marks, nipple play, being tied up, electricity, humiliation, enemas (Hi, nilla!), as well as many other BDSM things. We talked about food allergies and sensitivities since I will be staying in a room at La Domaine and also having meals there, and we talked about what I would need to take with me in terms of clothing. The answer to that is not much, in case you’re wondering. The conversation was somewhat similar to one you might have with a camp counselor.  Ha-ha-ha. Maybe for one of nilla’s camp stories!

I have both excitement and a bit of wary anticipation running through my mind as the days pass. Bill has attempted to keep me on an even keel by keeping things as normal as possible. When I went out to the kitchen early Sunday morning I found this note waiting for me:

Time for a spanking!

Come back to the bedroom at nine o'clock and put your collar on. Clip both breasts just at the top of your areola.

After that plug in the Hitachi and bend over the bed and say, "I am ready for my spanking!"

I will give you ten with my hand and then apply the Hitachi and give you five with the slut paddle.

You will then lay down and I will buzz you and finger you until I am satisfied you have cum enough.

Then I will take the clamps off and use the flogger on your breasts and cum on you!

See you then!

We deviated from that plan a bit to include some oral attention for Bill, and it was a great way to start a relaxing day together.  In fact, it may have been too relaxing because I forgot myself a bit and am already at a tally of eight swats with the implement of his choice. He has been enjoying Aisha’s ongoing story and, inspired by the disks on the collar for breaking rules in that story, Bill is considering getting a bracelet for me that would look like a charm bracelet but that he could add little disks to in order to keep count of my transgressions and keep the number firmly in my mind. 

I am so pleased Bill wants me to go to La Domaine and do this, to be the best I can be for him and for myself. And I am so pleased and honored to be accepted at La Domaine by Master R and Mistress Collette. This is sure to be a great adventure.

Hugs to all,  Donna

PS Just for clarification, the picture above is not of me. My bustier is black with red flames and garters and my hair has highlights. Those are not the only differences but we will just leave it at that, won't we?

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Slut?

Not much time for blogging today, or for the next couple of days. If all goes well we will be heading out by car to our mountain hideaway by this time tomorrow morning. In the meantime, we have lots of work related activity planned.

Yesterday, the powers of something or other did through a hatchet into our typical switch day activities.

It was a beautiful sunny day here when I got up.

But the power was off.

Maybe it was a sympathetic outage, with our grid feeling as one with its more harried grids on the east coast.

Regardless, it's hard to do a proper switch day with the "power tool" to "torture" Mistress with. It all got a little distracting, and soon my oral worship of Mistress turned into a full bore conventional session of love making in her executive suite, with Mistress riding her "work-a-day" cock to several rather impressive cums. 

Considering all the stresses and strains on her body over the last few days, I think it was probably good not to subject her to too much "abuse" yesterday.  But rest assured, I plan to pack lots of our equipment for our trip west. Maybe she'll give me a rain check?

On our bike ride later in the morning, Mistress had a strange question.

"Am I acting too much like a slut, Slave?"

"Why, Mistress?

"You know, this thing with Francois?"

"Of course not, Mistress .... when I think of the term "slut", I think of someone going to bars picking up a different guy every night.... You've been very careful on both recruiting and  selecting someone to ... shall we say.... supplement the style of sex you and I have...."

She seemed satisfied with this response.  But I realized that the term "slut" itself has a certain ambiguity these days.

One dictionary definition says a "slut" is a "slovenly or promiscuous woman".

Well we all know Mistress takes pride in her grooming. And "promiscuous" is certainly laden with value judgments.

Of late, women seem to have been embracing the term. Even here in River City, we had a "slut walk" in the last few weeks, with women all tarted up in various stages of undress (or kinky dress) to reject the notion that a woman who dresses, shall we say ... provacatively.... is somehow "asking for it."

Yesterday in the Times, an article discussed whether a fraternity invitation at Duke for women to show up at a Halloween party in "slutty" attire, attracted lots of feminist ire, and lots of sluttily attired coeds.
(Here's the link)

So I'm not sure a "slut" is what she used to be. and I know some of you in the blog world have embraced the term in your own "wanton" way.

So what's your take... is Mistress a slut? and is that a good thing or a bad thing?

From the Desk of Our CEO

Mistress and Slave had a very busy day here at the UCTMW World HQ, including a rather impressive job that Mistress did deploying her strap-on on her Slave’s ass. When she was done, she lay there in peaceful repose, as captured on this photo. But before it was bedtime, she took it upon her self to take well manicured fingers to keyboard to share the following dispatch prompted by the back and forth in our comments section over the last few days:

To Our Devoted Followers and Staff:

It is rare that I write for our vast media enterprise.  My energies re: the written words are usually depleted with my day work. I leave this duty up to Mick.

I have noted that our sex blog seems to have morphed into one with political and sociological content. I suppose Mick and I are masters at discussing those topics that make most folks most uncomfortable: sex, politics, and religion.

 So, gang, this is supposed to be a sex blog – as of today we seem to be deep into a conversation about who does what best in which country and when it is appropriate to claim that so-and-so from somewhere does it best.

My comments:  men…you are all gifted in your own special and unique man sort of ways. While you may hail from widespread geographic locations, aside from some obvious dimensional, height or language differences, you are more similar than different from one- another.

I adore each and every one of you and what you to do me, with me, for me, and  For how you make me feel.

Some of you know that I have tried it with women, but I desperately crave that firm male touch among other things. I crave that firm hand, that rougher skin, that bulging member.

I aim for us to all be filled with harmony and love (can’t help it), I need all of you and your own special brand of Molly Collins adoration. Mick has turned me into a sex super hero on these pages and for that I am grateful.

The older I get the more I love it. Each experience, each compliment and each conquest.

Love,

Molly

Mistress Makes Breakfast

Before I get onto today’s tale of adventure in the empty nest that doubles for the UCTMW World HQ,  I wanted to pass on a brief message from our Western Correspondent, apparently written to make amends for a perceived breach of our media empire’s Equal Opportunity rules (see the Thursday edition I all this seems confusing).

Francois,

As Molly says, you are a good guy.  Let me clarify me position.  

First , I did not call you “Euro Trash”  I called you a pompous, bigoted  European.

For some background,

I taught skiing in the French ski school for five years.

I have a license to teach skiing anywhere in France should I chose to do so,  I have many great friends from France, Italy, Belgium,  and Austria.

But there were some Europeans that just felt superior to Americans.

I am a very liberal person, hard left in fact. 

And I agree with many Europeans’ distain  for America, especially during the Bush years.

But I always told these bigoted people that I was not going to take any of their anti- American bullshit.

I mean I wouldn't move to France and say “I think all French guy are losers”,  and I am the superior American lover  and will fill in the need that these  poor French women have been deprived of all these years.

The answer is, no I would not.

Hey, people are people everywhere. 

Probably you just said it to impress Molly, I'll cut you some slack on that front, as she it s a powerhouse.

So just cut the crap that Europeans are better lovers, and I will be happy.

The has a lot of European friends and hope you can be another one,  

WC

Since our Policy encourages our staff to resolve conflicts of this type at the earliest possible time, I am sure the CEO appreciates the WC’s effort to explain and seek understanding with respect to his comment earlier this week.

Now, speaking of Francois, I am authorized to report the following developments.

With Mistress working from home these last couple of weeks, well it makes her schedule a little more flexible.

After our “wake-up sex”, Slave was up and getting ready for work, and Mistress made sure to close the lock on my cage. But she was also getting dressed too, at an unusually early hour.

“I need to  walk down to the bakery Mistress…. Francois said he would stop by for breakfast, and well…. I thought some pastries might be nice.”

(Yum. How Continental. But was this an unfortunate stereotype too?)

“I’m sure he’ll appreciate your consideration Mistress.”

I made sure Mistress knew how to operate our unnecessarily complex coffee maker (Slave normally handles such drudgery) and left her to her day, with a kiss goodbye.

And as the morning developed, I must confess that my cage cock had some little twitches to suppress when I thought of what Mistress might be up to back here at the World HQ.

In fact, I was able to finish things up a little early, heading home by around 4 pm. Mistress was home, in one of her cute Tie-dye dresses, working on her computer.

Soon we found out way up to her Executive Suite.

It didn’t take long for me to shed my work garb, and Mistress quickly shed that dress. I helped her wriggle out of her black undies, she spread herself across the bed and I found myself on my knees exploring those silky folds with my tongue and lips.

As I worshipped, Mistress filled me in on her busy day.

She took her time, filling in a few details in response to my questions. I took my time too, probing and suctioning until she got a little too distracted to finish her story.

Afterwards, she rewarded me by unlocking my cage, helping me to ease the metal container off my semi-hardening “work-a-day” cock.

As I sidled into bed next to her, I did notice something I had not seen in the morning.

“Poor Mistress, there’s a little bruise on your breast.”

“Hmmmm…. I guess you’re right Slave….”