Prescient

Every now and then my predictive skills are uncanny.... well not like Suzanne over at All Mine, but still pretty good.

And yesterday was a particularly good day.

First, there was the odd confluence of events. I mentioned running into a woman with the back story of having been involved with a former NFL QB. Low and behold, the local newspaper yesterday morning had a big feature story on this fellow, who had not played a snap since the early 1970's.

Then in our blog I predicted that the Jewish real estate developer who had sidled up to Mistress at the art opening would shortly pop up on her facebook friends list. 

That happened by around 2 pm, when Slave and Mistress settled into a little R & R in our executive suite.

"Funny Mistress... he didn't friend request me....."

"Does that surprise you, Slave...."

No, not particularly.

Finally, I predicted that our unexpected encounter with that local singer / songwriter would end up costing me a sore ass. This is the one who used to date my brother (I introduced them for God's sake), but who Mistress has insisted for the last 20 years that I secretly have the hots for.

Sure enough, once our cute Co-Ed daughter (who made a cameo appearance yesterday at around noon) headed off to a hair appointment, Mistress suggested it was time for me to pay the price for her paranoia.

"Get out my supplies, Slave.... including the riding crop."

Maybe I should have taken a little longer spreading pitch like goop on the flat part of our roof that had taken to leaking during a recent monsoon.  See.... I can be a "field slave" every now and then.



But I knew that further arguing would be fruitless.


"Yes, Mistress...."




I assembled her "supplies" -- strap-on harness, it's "accessory", lubricant, and of course her riding crop.



And I "took my position", after disrobing at her direction.

She commenced to thwack at me, while lecturing me on how obvious it was that somehow I had this long suppressed flame burning for  this particular object of her disdain.

And I must say it hurt like hell. My ass was bouncing off the bed, and I did not do a particularly good job of maintaining my position.

But at least Mistress was able to relieve herself of her concern. Let's hope its a long time before we run into this woman again.

When she was done, she took a photo of my well cropped buns. 

"I'm sending one copy to you for the blog, Slave.... and one to the WC, who advised me to give you a good cropping today...."

Gee, thanks, Miguel.  And I've been so lenient when reviewing your AmEx card expenses of late. I guess I need to use a sharper pencil the next time you submit a $350 bar tab for entertaining a "source".

Afterwords, Mistress was in a more compassionate mood though. She already had that harness on, and caressed the marks on my ass, before guiding her little projectile into my back door.

And once she taken an orgasm or two that way, she told me to insert my aneros, and come back to bed and fuck her. Which I did to my hearts content.

And while my ass stung like hell for those moments of torment, all that pain quickly turned into a little warming glow as I plunged into those clean shaven folds.

But I think I'll steer clear of the predictions department today.... you'll have to consult Suzanne if you want some reliable dope on next Sunday's Super Bowl.

Small Town

Last night Mistress and Slave went to an art opening in an older, semi-revitalized part of town. It was an urbanista thing. Lots of folks dressed in various shades of black,  spanning the age range. The artist was someone we barely know - but have known a while, former husband of someone I worked with years ago, but who let Mistress know about his show through facebook.

(I think he was flirting a bit with Mistress via facebook messages, but I suppose it could have just been "good marketing", huh?)

Mistress, of course, was looking quite fetching: black boots, tights and dress (yes, fans, those peek-a-boo tights), some tasteful but eye catching SW jewelry, and a turquoise scarf to add a little color. I always feel like the luckiest guy in the room to have her on my arm.


One of the odd aspects about living in a town like River City is all of the connections that randomly pop up at an event like this. The social molecules are just too tightly compacted, so that we're all just bouncing off one another.

So as we entered the door we were confronted by a woman who I have known for years -- she actually used to date my since departed brother during the Reagan regime -- and who Mistress is CONVINCED (despite no supportive evidence I might add) I somehow have the hots for.

As she chatted us up in her rat-a-tat style, I probably made the mistake of expressing knowledge of her recent performance (she is an amateur singer songwriter) at a club in NYC. Somehow, my addled brain even recalled the name of the club. Of course, this was knowledge I had gleened simply from her facebook postings about said gig, not because I had either spoken to her, or somehow snuck out to attend this gig while Mistress was sleeping one night.

In any event, I could tell Mistress was a little discomfited by this expression of what she later described as "intimacy" with this woman (who I had not spoken to, let alone seen in at least a couple of years).... ah, well..... I expect I've already earned a few strokes from Mistress's crop this afternoon.  Better for her to let it out than let it fester is my motto.

Of course, we were not done with all these strange encounters. It turned out that the artist who seemed to be flirting with Mistress had somehow become engaged in recent weeks to a woman we had just met only recently. Her bizarre connection to us was as the ex-wife of a guy who had lived with and almost married my ex-wife in the 1990's. (Of course, before that she was married to a former NFL QB, but I won't go down that road.... I know you all hate it when I get into sports and politics).

"Hmmmm..... how did that happen so fast Mistress.... and here he was flirting with you and courting someone else.... shocking......"

"Shut up.... Slave...."

See, she was still pissed about the singer song-writer.

Then the ex-wife of the artist shows up with their mutual daughter. "Just showing support for his work", s she put it.

This is the woman I worked with in the 1980's and 1990's. In their conversation, Mistress reminded me that somehow this woman dated or was otherwise involved with a guy who Mistress worked with at the time (he now shows up on MSNBC a good bit). This woman, nice, but always a bit of a flake, described meeting Mistress circa 1988, in her mid-20's -all excited about her trip to the Democratic National Convention that summer. And it seems she did take note that Slave, her more senior colleague, was on that trip too. Apparently someone was connecting our dots for us.

But as she noted, "the statute of limitations has expired on that one...."

Now, who am I missing....

There was the Jewish real estate investor who sidled up the Mistress at some point while I was fetching her another little plastic cup of wine. He seemed to be taken by her, and a little disappointed when I showed up. They quickly ran through all of their tribal connections: mothers were pals, that guy he went to high school that we all know, yadda, yadda.

Somehow I suspect Mistress will be hearing from him on facebook.

Riding and Slapping

Schedules have been overturned here at the UCTMW World HQ this week. And the last 24 hours have been particularly weird. We were up and out at 7 am yesterday, and did not return until after 8 pm, having been waylaid by a reception for a DC poobah into town for a lecture at a local Museum.

By the time we fought our way home through a hard cold rain, the GOP debate was on. Slave didn't want to miss that.... and by the time it was over, Mistress was fast asleep in the bed next to me.

Ouch.

That means there was no sex at all here yesterday..... a highly unusual development.

Things changed this morning though. Slave had come downstairs at around 5:45 am, to write the blog and catch up on the debate fallout. But I realized in about 15 mintues that my computer needed its charger cord. So I stealthily crept back into the executive suite to grab the cord, hoping not to disturb Mistress's beauty sleep.....

Oops.  Apparently Mistress was awake too, with the cord from Mr. H (her Hitachi) already snaking it's way under the covers.

"You were gone, Slave.... and I was horny. What else is a Mistress to do....."

Well I felt pretty guilty. I had clearly dropped the ball, being too focused on whether Newt would be in the smiting or rope-a-dope mode last night.

"Would you like me to leave you to your own devices here Mistress, or provide some assistance...."

Mistress made it clear that she expected me to "wade in", and I did, letting Mistress lay back as I deployed her favorite power tool for a couple of worthy cums. She then gave me permission to deploy my own hardened tool, which I did with gusto.

And while all those developments may have delayed this morning 's posting a bit, believe me, it was worth it.

Now what about today's title, you ask.  roll the clock back a bit to last night, as Mistress reviewed her facebook page....


"Oh My Slave", she exclaimed, also with much gusto, "I got a message from Dave ------".

(Remember him, the hunky ski patrol dude who has the record for Everest Summits that Mistress fawned over last week.... while we were "On the Lam".)

Mistress had strategically waited until our return to reach out, send Dave a mention, and mention her encounter with him.  His response was particularly warm, and he mentioned that she should have "slapped him upside the head" to remind him that she was also one of his "facebook friends".

'More slapping, Mistress?"

The reference brought to mind a conversation Mistress had a few weeks back with a guy who seemed interested in being Dommed.

"He said he was into the idea of me riding his cock, and slapping him across the face.... presumably at the same time, Slave...."

Hmmm..... of course I like the cock riding idea, but the slapping?  Not necessarily on the same page with that myself.

But it did remind me of that Californication episode and the book on the series it spawned .... "Fucking and Punching".  The too young girl riding Duchovney's cock, and punching him hard in the face as she came.  Kind of hot for Cable.

Is this some new trend?

"Mistress.... do you think Dave is sending a signal there.... that he wants someone to slap him around during sex?"

"We may be getting a little ahead of ourselves, Slave....."

Could be.  But it is intriguing.

Mid Morning Graze

This morning, Mistress has one of those 7:30 am "power breakfasts" at the local club where River city poo-bahs meet in a hushed and genteel setting before heading out to do their jobs of accumulating wealth for their families and stockholders.

Of course that means that old Mick will be performing livery service this am, and that there was no AM sex on the menu here at UCTMW World HQ. Not even time for me to do this blog and present it to Mistress during our ritual morning worship session. Soon we'll be heading out into a cold rain.

Yuck.

But while waiting for her to complete her primping, I have a brief moment to send off today's dispatch.

Fortunately, it was not that way here yesterday AM. Slave was given amply opportunity to have his way with Mistress after she was suitably pleasured, while the cat again sat on my back, presumably making notes on my technique.

And yesterday, at around 11 am there was a little bonus opportunity.

Mistress had a client meeting in my building, so surprised me with a little drop by.  She scolded me a bit on the disheveled nature of my business. But it did not take me long to clear one chair, slide it against the door, and drape a nicely absorbent blanket over the seat, And because Mistress had on those ubiquitous peek-a-boo tights, to match her black boots and black cashmere dress, no dis assembly was required. Mistress simply hiked up that dress and spread her lush and shapely thighs, and Slave  fell to my knees and used my eager tongue and lips to stoke Mistress's  fires.  Sooner than I would have liked my work was done, Mistress was suitably pleased, and off to her next engagement.

Giving new meaning to the term "Lickitisplit".