An Anniversary at UCTMW

Mistress reminded me over the weekend.

“It will be 20 years on October 4^th, Slave.”

And of course, junky that I am, I related it to a little political history.

“Damn…. That’s right, just around the time Bill Clinton started his campaign for President.”

Dumb, huh.

For us, the more important event this week in 1991 was our mutual decision to, “go public”,  move in together and make a go of it as a couple.

We’d been seeing one another since the preceding election cycle, brought together, by our mutual efforts for that short Greek guy in the tank.

There was that steamy week in Atlanta, July 1988.  We still have this dorky little souvenir on our kitchen counter.

We must have sweated about 20 gallons in those long humid nights together, so thoroughly entwined it was hard to tell where one of us began and the other one ended.

Plus I got to shake JFK Jr.’s hand, and Mistress got hit on by Claiborne Pell.

That fall, the Greek lost to Mr. “Points of Light”.

Years  passed. We furnished a little downtown “love nest” with a Pier One futon bed and cast off furniture, meeting for lunch, or on Sunday mornings. Mistress was the one in the ropes in those days.

We had our ups and downs. She probably dumped me half a dozen times. It was hard, married to other people as we were.

But somehow, that magnetic attraction, and an inextinguishable love prevailed, and overcame.

By the summer of 1991, Mistress found herself with child.  We knew it was time to put up or shut up.

So we developed a scheme (as they’d call it in London) that required  coordinated disclosures, and escape from our respective domestic arrangements.

And of course it was hard.

Very hard.

Both of our spouses claimed they had no clue. (Hard to believe, even now.) Mine took it harder than Molly’s. And there were my two daughters to tell, and reassure that I would still be in their lives.

Very hard stuff.

My late brother became a co-conspirator, at least to the extent of offering us shelter that first night on the lam from our first marriages.  And I can still recall the sublime pleasure of coming together with Molly that night in his guest room, 20 years ago today, after the news finally had been broken.

Our lives had profoundly changed. There was joy, relief, and guilt, and a good helping of fear about how things would resolve themselves.

But sliding into bed together, finally public after years of furtive couplings, was a joy that is hard to express, even now, 20 years on.

In many ways it seems so long ago, and still, only yesterday.

That child Molly was carrying is now a freshman Co-ed, as lovely as her Mom.  Another one came along, born only a week after I finally concluded what became a very unpleasant divorce. Now she’s discovering how to use the train system in Europe with her international friends.

I will always be grateful that my two older daughters stuck with me, and remain very close.

And here Molly and I are, still together, closer than ever, enjoying our empty nest, so much water under the bridge, but looking forward to adventures a plenty in the years to come.

I’m one lucky Slave.

Parenting Takes Precedence

Here at the UCTMW World HQ our switch day got somewhat hijacked Sunday.

Just as I was about to come upstairs and “do my worst” to Mistress she was heading down the stairs.  Our sullen teen #2, off in Europe for the school year, was on Skype. Lucky for us, She had finally found the time to talk to her Mother about the processing of her many college applications, which needs to occur over the next month or so. And so Switch Day was suspended, since every now and then the obligations of parenting rear their head, even in this empty nest.

What ensued was a long, cute rambling conversation that lasted on and off through the morning and afternoon. Subjects ranged  from where to apply, what her essays would cover, the new Amazon I-pad knock-off, and how her “girls” (the two gray cats left behind) were doing.

The technology that allows your daughter’s head to appear before you from Europe, and look all over our living room is pretty amazing. Grandma stopped by to say hello. We got a chance to talk to her temporary “mom” and “sister”, who passed through the scene. And she seemed a little disappointed not to be able to join me and her older sister as we headed off to watch the local NFL team stage an improbable last second victory.

“Could you bring a lap top to the game, set it on the seat, and let me watch too?”, she asked, probably only half in jest.

But don’t feel too sorry for Molly and old mick.  There was a break in the trans-continental chatter when our daughter paused for one of those grand European Sunday lunches with her extended family.  Of course, we had to fit in a bike ride too.

But there was also time for a brief respite in our bed. And at least to replicate switch endeavors, I reached under the bed for the trusty Hitachi Magic wand.

Mistress’s eyes lit up. Her power tool had been gathering a little dust of late.

She laid back, and I slid the churning device, set on low between those strong and smooth thighs, which she spread wide for me without even the benefit of a little rope.

Soon she was squirming, her hips rising off the bed to follow the wand when I eased it up just a bit.

She does wanton oh so well.

“Do I need to ask permission, Slave….”

That’s SOP here on switch day, but I sense that Francois is programming this notion even deeper with his on going “conditioning” of her.  I will be interested to see if he can achieve the Holy Grail, and make Mistress cum on command.

“I think that’s the protocol, Mistress.”

And yes, soon the squirming reached a crescendo, and she begged.

“Please, may I come, Slave….”

I am pretty indulgent, so I did not withhold consent…. Just a beat….

“Yes, Mistress…. Go for it….”

And within seconds, she tipped over the top, moaning and thrusting against the tool like a horny little slut.

Nice show, Mistress.

After she came down, she turned her attention to my work-a-day cock, deploying the oral skills that she has been focusing on of late to turn me into the one who was begging.

Lucky for me, she was in a generous mood.

A Tell Tale Mark

Mistress was still feeling a little under the weather yesterday morning, but after I worshiped her as she read the blog, she very generously let me partake of her delights. Yes, as Jay mentioned in a comment yesterday, I am a very lucky Slave.


Afterwords, we went for a somewhat abbreviated bike ride (it's gotten too cold too fast here in the heartland), and then were heading out for some errands - Mistress with sullen teen #1, and me with one of my very cute grandsons.

But as Mistress was sliding into some foxy panties, I noticed something that I must have overlooked earlier this week.

"Is that a bruise on your ass, Mistress?"

She was curious, but had trouble seeing what I was referring to. I moved in closer, running my fingers over the little red marks on her  firm left cheek.

"Maybe that spanking from Francois left a little more than a rosy glow, Mistress...."

"Hmmm.... could be Slave."

Did I skip this part earlier in the week. When Mistress had her little rendezvous with her new part time Dom last week, she reported rotating through a variety of positions.

"I was riding hic cock, Slave.... and he was spanking me."

"Was that a turn-on, Mistress?"

"You could say that, Slave....."

It seemed only fair to take a few photos to share this sight with our curious readers.  Here's one of Mistress leaning over the bed.

Can you see the red marks on the left?

They are a little hard to see in this light, aren't they?

So try this photo, a little more contrast, a little closer up:

Poor Mistress.

The Challenges of Multi-Tasking

Yesterday morning, after “going to press” with the blog, I scrambled upstairs to make sure there was time for our wake-up “booty call”. Mistress had an 8 am appointment with Teen #2’s high school counselor about college application plans, and I wanted to make sure that I took advantage of my opportunity before the window closed.

I worshipped as Mistress read what was actually a rather lame blog by our standards. Then I was given the privilege of fucking Mistress, even though she was feeling a bit under the weather.

She is a kind and considerate Mistress, after all.

But I had let her down a bit. She had directed me to wear my cage, but I had forgotten to wriggle my cock and balls into the hard steel ring before our morning engagement, thus depriving her of the harder cock and more explosive cum that she can count on when the ring is in place.

Oops.

When our proceedings were done it was around 7:20 or so.  That’s when I realized that I had a 7:30 am conference call to cover.  Yikes.

I grabbed the ring, hopped in the shower, and somehow got the ring on while shaving and washing up. No easy task considering that my balls were a little contracted after that between the sheets action.

Now I’m out of the shower, desperately searching for the call in number, while also working the cage part onto the little nub protruding from the ring, and trying to fit the lock into the tiny aligned holes so that Mistress can close the lock and secure me away for the day…..

 (This isn't my exact "model", but gives you an idea how things align).

Mistress is getting into the shower now too…. The lock hole alignment is giving me fits. My cell phone speaker is now engaged as I sign into my call, trying to figure out what I missed, answering a question, all the while messing with that damn lock hole thing because it just won’t fit right….

Finally I get the hasp of the lock slid through the aligned holes, and present myself to Mistress, who is now  in the shower, shaving those soft and gentle parts, since Francois had plans to stop by later in the morning.

“Well it’s about time, Slave….. what was the problem?”

“Fumble fingers, I guess, Mistress.”

She shut the lock, and I stepped back into the bedroom, getting dressed while listening into my call.

Later, when I’m at work, I did get a report from Mistress about her visit.

“He could tell I wasn’t feeling well, Slave…. so no orgasms for me today….he wants to make sure I am ready and rested for next weekend.”

“And did he get any attention, Mistress….”

“Well I did give him a little blow job action, Slave….”

“I’m sure he appreciated that….”

“I think he did…. He’s says I’m pretty good at it.”

“No doubt…. I can attest to that.”

Sounds like Mistress is navigating her way through this whole “un-cut” cock thing very capably.