Dispatch from Our Senior Correspondent: La Domaine III

 First, apologies to our devoted readers about missing our post this morning. There was a bit of a technology snafu here at the UCTMW World HQ. I'd consider replacing the the CTO, but now that I think about it, that's one of my titles here.  

It's also been a rather hectic day here in River City.... and a busy weekend ahead. So bear with us for a few days....Fortunately, we have this very hot continuation of our Senior Correspondent's trip to La Domaine.

So I last left you with an image of your intrepid correspondent lying blindfolded on a suspended massage table having been stimulated to unimaginable heights and with my cunt sealed over with wax. Let me say that I am so happy Bill likes to keep me shaved, because that would have been quite an interesting rrriiiippp for someone with hair there. As it was, the chipping away of the wax became an erotic adventure all on its own resulting in a certain Southern Correspondent begging for permission to orgasm.

Lying on that table I felt both erotically on edge and also at peace. I know that may sound like different extremes, but I loved what was happening with the pain/pleasure of BDSM and I also felt at my core that this was exactly where I was supposed to be. There was something awe inspiring about the fact that we were all women; that the circle of power is truly about freely giving and receiving and not limited by sexual orientation. This was a female experience with women of great substance and authority gifting me with the experience of their dominance and I returned their gift with mine, total submission. There was a strong sense of the power, almost electrifying the air around us.

When it was time to get up from lying on the table, I had a problem. Sitting up from a flat position is extremely painful for me along my spine, and not pain in the good sense.  After the blindfold was removed and the cuffs unclipped from the chains, the Mistresses began assisted me into an upright position, the pain was severe, and I screamed.

They didn’t run away, or start panicking about what they should do; they simply leaned in and held me up. I started to cry, partially in release from the amazing experiences and partially in embarrassment that I had screamed. As I cried, one of the Dommes cried with me, another hummed a little song while the other rubbed my back and neck. The Dommes had been quietly assisting me all through my time in the dungeon, standing next to me so that I could lean on them as I began to tire from standing so long on my crutches; gently moving my dragging leg and foot into position; lining up my body; constantly checking the ropes and the cuffs for circulation problems.  All of this was done without making it an issue, without any fuss, just doing what needed to be done.

It was one of the most loving times I have experienced.

When the time was right to go back upstairs, they supported me as I walked me to the steps, I handed my crutches to Mistress Collette and she took them upstairs for me. I crawled up the steps, still wearing only the Shibari ropes, with the two Mistresses in Training following me as we chatted about fetishes. When my foot began to slip off a step, Goddess Evitaa gently pushed it back onto the step without even pausing in what she was saying, and I continued crawling up the steps. When I reached the top, Mistress Dame supported me from the back and Mistress Collette helped pull me into an upright position, handed me my crutches and on we went. No big deal, just handling what comes up in life.

Speaking of what comes up, the following morning Master R decided it was time to polish up my oral skills for Bill, and he didn’t mean public speaking! My thought was that maybe we would use a dildo and he and Mistress Collette could give me some pointers. About then there was a knock at the front door and slave Tom came in.  Wowsers!

Slave Tom is between 35 and 40 and is a fine, fine specimen of a male! Mistress Collette told him to remove his clothing, which he did immediately and then gracefully sank down to a kneeling slave position in front of her.  Mistress Collette took a rope from the bench behind her, motioned for slave Tom to rise, and began using her Shibari skills on him. She roped him from waist to groin, wrapping his penis and balls in a quite upright and upfront position, although, in truth, he was already quite upright before she even began using the rope. I think her leather bustier and high leather boots might have played a part in that…along with the hot Dominatrix attitude that surrounds her.

I tried to look at slave Tom’s eyes, but my eyes kept drifting South and then Master R asked me what I thought of slave Tom’s penis, and told me to describe it. Gulp. So I looked carefully and did my best to describe his gorgeous, tanned, very long cock and his beautiful, heavy, reddening balls. Right then, Mistress reached out and thwacked his penis. What? Don’t hurt that beautiful thing! Well, let me tell you, it bounced back for more.

Mistress grabbed something that looked like a red rubber ball on the end of a metal rod with a handle. She used that to bop slave John’s penis again and again, alternating with slaps of her hand, and it was very obvious that slave Tom enjoyed it. This was new to me. Bill wouldn’t have a positive reaction to having his penis slapped, and certainly wouldn’t want it thwacked like that. Mistress Dame walked over, and she, too, began giving a good deal of attention through hand strokes and some cock slapping to slave Tom. After a few minutes, Mistress Dame and Master R moved a padded sawhorse to the center of the living room area and I knew my oral training was about to begin. No dildo needed!

Mistress Collette told slave Tom to stand at one end of the sawhorse and instructed me to stand at the other end. She had slave Tom scoot forward until his cock and balls were extending over the padded area. Then she had me lay face down on the sawhorse, scooting up until slave Tom’s penis was hitting my forehead. I felt a drop of precum slowly run down my nose as Mistress inserted a vibrator into my vagina and began flogging my back and butt. Oh my!

Mistress stopped flogging long enough to reach down and feel my pussy, then started laughing as she shared with the others in the room that I was dripping wet, that I was oozing sex-but could do even better if I tried - so the flogging, spanking and buzzing continued with a break now and then for Mistress to slap slave Tom’s cock causing more precum to make its way down my nose and drip onto the padding of the sawhorse.

When Mistress felt I was ready, she had me look at her and firmly stated that it was time for me to beg; to beg for permission to lick slave Tom’s cock.

More to come, or is that cum?

Donna

Property Rights

In these United States, there is a lot of talk about property rights. As an example, they can’t be "deprived" without “due process”, a slippery term if there ever was one. And all sorts of anger can get whipped up when the big bad government decides to take or limit the property rights of your ordinary citizen. When the “property” happens to be  a gun, well, step back and watch the fur fly.

But here at UCTMW World HQ, we don’t have disputes about personal property, since we all know who rules the roost.

Last night, for example, at about 4 am, Mistress was aroused from her beauty sleep by one of the two “kittens” who co-habit our empty nest with us.  We forgot to close the door, and this particular cat thinks its perfectly appropriate to wander around on our bed, using her “voice” to make sure we know she’s there (as if the footfalls on our legs and chests weren’t good enough to do that).

The ct was shown the door, which was then closed. Molly and Mick, rolled over, with the apparent intent of going back to sleep. But then, a few minutes later, I felt Mistress’s hand slide over my hip. Then her fingers, freshly manicured, were sliding along my somewhat scruffy balls in that tantalizing way.

Hmmmm.  I thought we were nodding off.

“What’s up, Mistress?”

“I thought I would see how my cock is doing, Slave….”

“As you have every right to do…..”

Well you can imagine the impact of her fingers, particularly after they gently gripped my expanding cock, and began to gently stroke it, riding it up and down until it had grown to its full “work-a-day wonder” dimensions.

Something had to give, and I am too polite a slave to demand the privilege of fucking first.

“Would you like me to worship, Mistress.?”

“That sounds like a good idea, Slave.”

So there I was, at around 4:15 am or so, sliding between her firm yet smooth and soft thighs, exploring those clean shaven folds with my tongue and lips.

Son Mistress’s breathing picked up the rhythm I associate with her heightened arousal, her thighs spreading a bit wider for me, her succulent juices coating my mouth.

Yum.

And once she seemed satisfied with my efforts, she readily granted my request to fuck her.

While Mistress may be the type of property owner who feels free to exercise her rights at any hour of the day or night, she also makes sure it is well maintained.

Moving on a bit….. thanks for your comments yesterday, and particularly to Francois for sharing a bit of his reaction to our impromtu dinner.  Yesterday, Mistress did exchange a few text messages with Babette, who we look forward to meeting a few weeks hence.

This could become a very spicy stew…. Or would that be a cassoulet?

Our Dinner With Francois

It was an  eventful first day back in town for Molly and Mick, getting back on the work wagon and all. And we need to get up and out early this AM, so excuse me if I am a little brief and unfocused on laying out this account. Feel free to ask questions, and I will fill in some more details later.

Slave was back at work in his office, Mistress working from home yesterday, and things were a little open ended as to whether Francois’s own work schedule might allow the two a little time together.

As it turned out, Mistress and he met for some coffee at a Starbucks not far from where he was doing some work. I got the heads up, and a little report on her drive home.

“So how did it go, Mistress?”

“Fine Slave…. we just chatted a while . I think he was a little disappointed that I wore underwear under my skirt though?”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah, as we were leaving he reached up under there and I had to tell him he wouldn’t be pleased…. It was a work day after all.”

“True.”

“And what did you talk about?”

“We did cover that upcoming weekend…. And involving his new friend Babette in the proceedings… at some point I sort of shushed him, since it was all this sex talk and I was afraid the Barrista was listening in….”

“And he said?”

“He must be a regular there… he looked at the guy and said ‘didn’t I tell you I was meeting my mistress and we were going to talk about getting a cute little submissive involved in some of our action’?”

“Oh shit…. Hilarious….”

Let’s move on now to further action, after work, back here at the UCTMW World HQ.

What’s nice about this empty nest is that there is no pressure at the end of the day for a quick meal prep to soothe the savage sullen teens. So Slave is free to come home, take off those work clothes, and offer his services to Mistress.

We were in our post-coital bliss, me contemplating what to serve with the fish, when Mistress got a text….

“Francois has some time, and wants to know if it’s OK to stop by with a couple of bottle of wine for us to sample….”

Gulp.  So the time had come for Slave to meet Mistress’s new beau.  But I was undainted, and, of course, very curious.

“Sure, Mistress….. ask him if he wants to stay for dinner….”

(Slave may be impertinent, but all that worship and sex had gotten my appetite aroused.  Couldn’t cuckolding wait until we all had full tummies?)

As it turned out, Francois had not yet eaten,  and there was plenty of Salmon to go around (poached in a mix of mushrooms, eggplant chunks, green peppers and tomato if you’re curious).

Mistress set the table. Francois arrived just as I was sautéing the green beans.  Simple but tasty, if I do say so myself.

We enjoyed the wine, laughed a lot, cleaned our plates, emptied a couple of bottle of wine, and talked about  logistics for our upcoming “Home Cumming Weekend”.

Some topics covered:

n  Acquisition of two butterfly vibrators with remotes, for Mistress and Babette.

n  The need for Mistress to add a larger dildo for use with her strap-on, since Babette is quite open to that experience, and the general opinion was that it was time for Slave to graduate to something more substantial.

n  Mistress’s role in the proceeding? “You’re the switch…. I’m in charge but you get to Domme Babette”, according to Francois.

n  Complements. Mistress is addicted to them, but that’s her Slave’s job. According to Francois, his Calvinist upbringing does not lend itself to lavishing praise.

n  The Blog. It seems Francois is enjoying his cameo appearances. Like us, he is already focusing on how prospective activities will be great “blog fodder”.

Overall, it was a very enjoyable evening. And it was a delight to see the smile on Mistress’s face and the twinkle in her eye as her two men fawned over her, each in their own way.

Afterwards, I commented on the pleasure that Mistress seemed to take in the whole admittedly unusual  proceeding.

“What’s not to like, Slave….”

At some point, after dinner,  I got a call I needed to take, so did not have a good chance to say goodbye, as Mistress walked Francois to his car. He was the perfect gentleman in front of me, I might add. But I understand Mistress got a nice kiss goodnight.

NO doubt, there will be further developments to report.

Back in Our Empty Nest

So here we are, after what seems like a lengthy absence, back in our River city nest, with the sullen teens still gone.

Pinch me.

We made it home a little after midnight on Saturday, slept in, read the papers. Mistress was reunited with the “kittens” she and the teens dote on.

Both of us were a little too stiff and sore from the long driving day on Saturday, so we passed on our weekly switch day, settling instead for some long and leisurely love making before our morning bike ride.

Mistress did take her time toying with my cock – both with her warm mouth and well manicured fingers, making me beg to fiuck her…. It was all very frustrating, if ultimately rewarding..

It certainly was strange to have a Sunday to ourselves, back her in River City, with no family duties to attend to, kids to nag about their homework, other folks’ messes to clean, etc., etc.

(Though there was a very early morning text message from Europe this am, with the critical query: “how much is in my bank account”.)

We can get used to this.

As I was settling down to watch the local NFL team take on the team from our WC’s hometown, I did get a text  message from him:

“What should we bet.”

After quickly consulting with Mistress, who was draped across a nearby couch, reading the Times, I responded:

“Molly and B?”

(i.e., if my team won, I’d get a shot at his wife; and he’d got one with Molly if my team won).

Of course, this was a sucker’s bet. With me as the sucker. Our team had not won in this particular venue since Gerald Ford was President. I kid you not!  So it should have been an easy bet for Miguel to take.

But no…. he backed away. I got some line about how he needed to consult his wife, that she was likely to get back at him for the caning she had absorbed following their encounter with the book Donna had sent them.

Cold feet, M. 

(Of course, M’s team did win, though it was a little closer a game than I had anticipated).

I think Mistress was a little disappointed in his reluctance to take the bet..

But I did try to sooth her with a little worship before bedtime.

It seemed to pass.