Inside UCTMW... Editorial Philosophy

Over the weekend, as Mistress and Slave were walking on a cold and windy beach, Mistress took some time to add to her rock collection. (Mistress studied geology some in college, and has an interesting assortment of rocks around the house.... I guess that thing for hard stuff started early in life for her?)

She reached down into the wet sand at one point and came up with a flat rock about 4 inches long with a hole worn into the middle by the elements.  That twinkle was in her eye.

"Hmmm.... I guess we could put some string through this and tie it to your cock or balls slave...."

I raised my eyebrow.  Was she serious?

"Then we could take a picture and put it up on the blog".

"But that would be inconsistent with editorial policy, Mistress.... we don't do cock or cunt shots.... it's a sex blog.... that would make us a porn blog."

Yes, I guess that is our core editorial policy here: It's a blog about sex; but not a porn blog. We want to appeal to our readers' prurient interests, but add a little redeeming social value too.

So, despite her vast collection, we've never posted a picture of the special occasion  cock sent to Mistress by the WC. Nor have you seen a photo of Mistress's clean shaven folds, or Slave's work-a-day cock.

Well... we did come close at times, I suppose. At one point Sin asked to see a photo of my cock in it's cage. Mistress waited until a day when Slave had somehow "misbehaved" (I know it's hard to believe), and then directed me to post that photo:  but I grained it up a bit, and the steel obscured it sufficiently so that that imaginary line between porn blog and sex blog was not crossed.

Which brings up last night.

Mistress had an old high school friend and her new boyfriend, both in town for the holidays, over for dinner. Before hadn, Slave got the lecture:

"remember no funny comments about my French lover, or other 'stuff'."

"Of course not Mistress.... have I ever blown our cover?"

Well I guess I make little inside jokes from time to time about our subterranean lives.... but never anything that could not have a double meaning.

The guest arrived. I poured us all some wine. Molly, her friend and the boyfriend moved to the living room.

Slave was in the kitchen whipping up some mushroom risotto, but stepping into to join the conversation between stirs of the pot.

At some point, Molly began showing them photos of her trip to Eastern Europe on the big computer monitor in the living room.... and I heard a bit of a kurfuffle.... hmmmmm.  I put down my spoon and stepped into the living room.

Mistress, sensing my presence, looked over her shoulder....."I accidentally showed them some porn, Slave...."

You see those photos of WCs cock, once on an i-phone, seem to live forever, no matter how hard one tries to root them out.  I assumed that's what they had seen.

Of course, they denied seeing anything....but there was a bit of embarrassment all around, smoothed over with a little more wine and that delicious risotto.

After our guests left, I asked Mistress to explain what happened....

"It was your cock in the cage, Slave.... it just flashed on the screen for a moment.... I really don't think they knew what it was."

Oh, Joy.

And thanks, Sin.

Inside UCTMW Week.... The Editorial Board Meeting

A few weeks back, Mistress and Slave watched a documentary (via Netflix) about our favorite newspaper, called "Page One: Inside the New York Times." The point was to open the door and look at the decision making processes that grind out the daily news feed from that "Grey Lady". I suspect the doors were opened at the Times to an independent filmmaker in a probably fruitless attempt to put some human faces on an institution that tries a little too hard to pretend to be God on most days, and has taken its share of lumps from the right wing and the markets in the last decade.... but who are we to judge.

Of course, here at UCTMW we fancy ourselves as at the pinnacle of cheesy sex blog journalism, so why not open up the process a little so all of  you aspiring Mollys and Micks can see how things really get done around here.

Take for example, the role our Publisher, Molly Collins plays in giving a final stamp of approval on our daily output.

As it happens, Mick is usually in charge of  written content on the blog, with the exception of occasional postings from the Publisher's desk .

Indeed, when Molly asks the night before, "what are you going to write about tomorrow, Slave", I am usually coy. For two reasons: 1) I really have no fucking idea: and 2) I like to surprise her with my daily spin on our work and play -a-day lives.  The true test of my success here is not how many page views or shout-outs we get, but whether I get some sort of rise from her as she reads the blog and I work my tongue and lips across her legendary clean shaven folds.

But there is one aspect of the blog where Molly exercises complete editorial control: displays of her likeness.  Take last night for example.

We had arrived home from our weekend trip, and had settled into a nice evening of catching up with the accumulated newspapers and watching some TV (nice Woody Allen bio-documentary on PBS). AS we watched I told Mistress I was going to download some photos from "Switch Day" for the blog.

This definitely got her attention. No sooner had they appeared on the screen than she was leaning over my shoulder, critiquing, approving, or sending some of the photos to the trash bin.

"That one's OK, Slave...."

"Ick.... not that one!"

I've learned not to argue on these matters.  though at one point I noted that the approved photo of her lush ass, reddened by by spanks, was not much different than the one she had condemned, which featured her ass msucles clenched tight as she bucked against her favorite power tool.

"Too many lines, Slave....."

But as you cans see, she did find a few shots that met her discerning eye.

As you can see from the photo montage, Slave did bring sufficient supplies to catch up on some missed Switch Day opportunities over the last few weeks. There was the restraining of Mistress's wrists and ankles; a nice firm spanking, in honor of the re-emergence of E, who has a bit of a spanking fetish that Mistress would so clearly like to accommodate; and then as a final "punishment" I slid the magic wand between those clenched thighs, making Mistress squirm and ultimately beg for permission to come.

I do love the way her ass muscles get so tight in those final throes of abandon. But alas, that photo ended up on the cutting room floor. (Maybe our readers can persuade her to authorize that shot, but I've given up).

When Mistress had her fill, one of those emotional cums that had her face red and damp with tears, I released her ankles and wrists, and flipped her over for a nice thorough fucking.  But, always the good Slave, I made sure to ask permission too.

Blustery Day on the Beach

Mistress and Slave have enjoyed their weekend away.... of course it's not like years past, when a weekend away meant liberation from keeping an eye on our kids. With our (mostly) empty nest, every weekend has become a "getaway" for us.  But still, a charming Inn, away from the weekend chores (and mothers to visit) definitely has a liberating vibe to it.

Mistress slept in a bit yesterday morning, allowing Slave some extra time to pull together the blog for her, as well and scan the news via internet.

Then it was back to bed.... you probably know the drill: worship while she reads, followed by our wake-up sex. But yesterday, Mistress was feeling a bit more frisky, and elected to ride her cock for a while. That always seems to lead to several robust cums, before spent, she "dismounted" and let her Slave finish the job from above.  I was more than happy to do my duty.

Afterwords, we bundled up and headed down to he beach.  Truth be told, it was probably barely tolerable biking weather. But Mistress has given me a pass so far. And we both do like a long walk on this empty beach, that runs for miles below dunes filled with dozens of summer homes, ranging from rustic to over-the-top grand. And though the wind was blustery and the temperatures were in the 40's, we seemed to have dressed properly, allowing an hour long stroll north and then back along the beach. 

That left us hungry for a late breakfast at a spot down the street that was relatively empty for a Saturday morning. It's clear off-season here, with the trees already having shed those colorful leaves.

Football games seem are scheduled to please the TV networks these days rather than for the convenience of fans or players, and yesterday's game at my alma mater was scheduled for 4 pm -- just about twilight here. In essence, it was a night game for all practical purposes. and a cold one too. Mistress is not much of a sports fan, but indulges her slave. She weathered the first half, reading her kindle when it wasn't misting. But she bailed out at halftime for the friendly confines of a coffee house on campus. Of course, I had no problem with that, staying until the bitter and cold end. Fortunately, my team survived a mediocre performance and a whole lot of punts to prevail narrowly in the end.

By the time we got back to our Inn it was nearly 9 pm.... we planned a "picnic" dinner here, watched an old movie on TV and warmed up. I made sure that Mistress got some worship before bedtime though.  She seemed to relish that....

Of course, today is Switch Day.... be assured that Slave was thinking ahead and brought some suitable tools!

From the Lakeshore....

Molly and Mick made it to our little B & B here on the Lakeshore after dark last night. It's a place we've stayed at many times over the years, close enough to drive to my alma mater, but far enough from campus that it is not caught up in all the football weekend hoopla.

When we pulled in, Mistress immediately noticed a car with a bike rack.

"Slave.... someone didn't think it would be too cold to drive!"

Well, it sure seems cold to me. Hopefully she will be content with some long beach walks this morning and tomorrow, or Slave could be punished.

After we unpacked, and caught up with some  emails and blog perusing (Suzanne and Tammy seem to have a busy weekend planned over at All Mine), we got back in the car and headed to a favorite local restaurant, a cafe that specializes in Kurdish cuisine, run by a gentleman who had become a local folk hero due to his battles with the INS about whether he should or should not be deported. Inside there is a bit of a shrine to him, and lots of merchandise with the "Free Ibrahim" logo.  Strange local color, but if we do ever have to go on the Lam again, we may want to consult with him about finding shelter in Kurdistan.
Over dinner, Mistress and I discussed her three current "suitors", if that's a way to characterize them.

Of course, there is Francois, who was able the drop by the other night. "He's fun, isn't he Slave?"
Absolutely, a sexual bon vivant if there ever was one. Though Mistress's new work schedule may make it ahrd for them to get together as frequently as either might like.

Then there is E, who has worked his way back onto the dance card. The question is whether he and Mistress can find some common location where they might "run into" one another. He promises a very thorough spanking should that occur.

Of course, there is also the WC. It's been nearly 2 years since Mistress and the WC began to interact, and although he's been representing that he may find his way to our Mountain Hideaway sometime after the 1st of the year, I think Mistress is skeptical.  "That special occasion cock may make an appearance as frequently as Haley's Comet, Slave."

Fortunately (for me), Mistress does have a fall back plan always available.

"I really don't need any other cocks than yours' Slave."

"That's good to know, Mistress.... but then what's wrong with a little dessert every now and then?"

Last night, we passed on the strange Kurdish dessert available, after filling ourselves with a bottle of wine,  variations of chickpea preparations,  and some tender lamb concoction.

"I think I know what I want for dessert, Slave...."

Rest assured that I made sure she had her full.