Cage Day

There was a comment from someone labeled "anonymous" yesterday that got Mistress's attention .... the spirit of it was that Slave got a thwacking because we ran into a woman from my past (what our mutual "past" was remains a matter of disagreement), wheras somehow Mistress avoided her contractual switch day obligations.

And while I appreciate a little moral support from our readers, in fairness to Mistress, I am sure she would have submitted to switch day on Sunday had I insisted..... it was just that our day was structured in a way that really did not give us the time for a proper switch.  So let's chock it up to clever scheduling on her part rather than an anticipatory breach of contract.  I suspect I will get my chance again soon to redden those lovely buns.... hopefully this Sunday.

But lets move onto yesterday's developments here at the UCTMW World HQ.  Mistress had to drive up to our oh so flat state capital. So certain rules applied.

"You need to wear the cage Monday, Slave....."

"Of course, Mistress...."

It was a little cold here Monday morning, before the sun gave us what seemed like an early springtime. Which meant I had to wiggle the hard steel ring up and around my balls and cock before things got too "tight" down there. That accomplished, I wrote the blog and then rejoined Mistress in her Executive Suite at the appointed time.

Mistress was still sound asleep, so I had to give her a little time to rejoin the living. But by the time she was reading the blog, and I was using my lips and tongues to  satisfy her early morning needs, Mistress had "come alive", but not in a Peter Frampton hair band sort of way.

Once she had her "starter cum", she turned her attention to my cock, already hardening up within that tight steel ring. Soon I was very close to the edge from the soft caresses of her fingers, begging for the privilege to fuck her.

And when she relented, allowing me to mount her, she seemed pleased with the combined results of "morning cock" meeting "steel ring".

"Ummmm..... nice Slave....."

And even after permission was granted, and Slave had his deferred satisfaction, Mistress seemed to have some latent desires that still needed to be quenched.

"Would you like a little Hitachi chaser, Mistress....."

She checked the clock, and mulled over my offer.

"Sure Slave, I think we can fit that in....."

Once Mistress had rock and rolled to the tune of her power tool, we were finally up and into the shower. And after I fit the cover over my cock, she made her self available to shut the lock and secure her cock for the day.

And through the day, I received the occasional texted taunt.

"How's my caged slave doing?"

They served as a little reminder that although she was 100 miles away, she remained in charge, giving me a little twitch inside that cage at the thought of it all.

Of course, at the end of the day, her cock was looking forward to its parole. She had arrived home a little earlier than me, and took a bike ride in our unusually warm, sunny late January weather.

"How about I worship, Mistress, and then you an unlock me."

She pealed off her black (naturally) exercise leggings, exposing those clean shaven folds.

"It depends on how good a job you do, Slave."

I made sure to do my very best work.

UnMarked

You will note that the cute tush to the left, unlike the one presented here yesterday is NOT marked by any stingy crop marks. It does not even have a little red hue from a good hand spanking.

Yes, yesterday was "Switch Day" here at the UCTMW World HQ, but for the 2nd week in a row, Mistress was able to talk and schedule her way out of that weekly comeuppance that is included in our contract.

Of course, last week it was the fact that we were packing up to head for River City from our "On the Lam" mountain hideaway. There was early AM sex, but not the time to tie Mistress to the bed and give her the full switch say treatment.

Yesterday the excuse was a 9 AM spinning class that Mistress wanted to attend, and of course Slave was very accommodating, joining her at the gym for some exercise of my own.

Now that 9 AM spinning schedule did allow for some hot early morning sex here at in our Executive Suite, just not the type that would have marred that firm and tender bottom.

There was worship as she reviewed the blog, her earnest efforts with those own tender lips to tease her Slave's cock, and some extended love making that seemed to deliver Mistress an additional orgasm or two before Slave was given permission to cum.

But even then, with a little more time before we dressed for the gym, my sense was that Mistress was not completely fulfilled.

"Would you like a little fun with your power tool, Mistress?"

"Hmmmm...." she glanced at the clock.....
That sounds like a good idea, Slave......"

So I reached under the bed and thumbed on Mistress's hitachi. She gave me a little help making sure the business end was positioned just so, then laid back and let herself build for a good time to a nice satisfying climax to her pre-spinning warm up.  I do enjoy see Mistress writhe and moan her way to one of these tool induced cums.  

Impressive, Mistress.

Although, it does make you wonder.... that sucker could ultimately make Slave redundant.

Though my remaining advantage is that I still function during a power outage.

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.