Consumer Product Testing

I think Mistress was hoping I'd forget yesterday was switch day here at the UCTMW World HQ.

So it wasn't until she had finished reading yesterday morning's blog, and it's concluding remarks about trimming the product of Saturday's "bamboo harvest", as as languorously lapped at her clean shaven folds, that she realized that things might not go according to her Sunday morning plans.

But she was a co-operative, if reluctant, little subbie as I locked those red leather wrist cuffs on her and linked them in front.

"You really have a bamboo rod?"

"Of course, Mistress..... we need to test this for our curious readers, don't we?"

She seemed a bit taken a back at the prospect, but allowed me to elad her into the sullen teen's room, with the larger bed and it's more convenient attachment points.

I waited until after I had her hands fixed overhead, and her legs spread and bound to the corners of the bed, a nice soft pillow under her belly, before I unveiled my new "tool".

It's thin, about 4 feet long, firm, and whippy. 

A little scary actually, for someone who's been on the other end of a riding crop or hair brush on more than a few occasions.

"You're not really going to use that on me, Slave?!"

Don't worry, Mistress, I'll be relatively gentle.  (As Sin alluded to yesterday, there is a certain deterrent, when only one day of the week is your switch day).

To warm Mistress up before her "punishment", I plugged in Mistress's faithful Hitachi.  I figured it would get her juices flowing and make her realize that there was a bright light at the end of the "torture" tunnel for her.

Clever psychology, huh?

I was surprised that within about 30 seconds after I thumbed it on and pressed it between those spread thighs that she was already asking for permission to cum.

"Of course not Mistress.... that will be your reward.... we need to try out the new tool first....."

She whined when I turned off her power tool, replacing it with my questing fingers. 

The little slut was already very wet.  

So it seemed like a good time to begin our experiment.

I picked up the rod.

She looked away.

I rubbed it gently across her ass, between her legs.

She squirmed delightfully.

"Just get on with it, Slave....."

Oh, she is a brave one, isn't she.

The rod is really too long for this sort of close quarters drill.  Maybe if she was suspended in a door frame, or in our basement?

So I "choked up", giving myself about 2.5 feet of length.

And truth be told, I only used a little flick of my wrist on that luscious bottom of hers.

Mistress squirmed, and then cried out with even a slight increase in the force applied.

"That thing hurts, Slave...."

I've no doubt about it.  Much more ouchy than the riding crop.  Clearly for advanced punishment junkies.

And there was an interesting effect.

At first, Mistress's ass appeared relatively unmarked.  Here is the first "after" photo I took, with just a tad color enhancement.  There was just a bit of a red glow.

There was a bit of a red glow, but nothing too dramatic.

I put the rod aside, to her gratitude. Then it was "reward" time.  I reached for the hitachi, and thrust it where she likes it, hard against those clean shaven folds, allowing her to squirm to her hearts content against it. I loved the way her ass and thigh muscles flexed and tightened as she built herself up to the edge.....

Soon she was begging for permission to cum. But then I noticed it. Maybe it was the flexing, or it could have just been a matter of time, but her lovely cheeks now were showing the bright red marks of the cane.

"Sorry, Mistress", I said as I pulled the Hitachi away....

"That is so mean.......", she seemed a little frustrated.  I had disrupted her rhythm.

"But I need to get one more photo for our readers, Mistress."

"Fuck the readers....."

She was sounding a little Rupert Murdock there wasn't she?

But I got my photo, which clearly shows the "beneficial" effects of our home grown bamboo, doesn't it?

I'll be taking orders from all you readers who just need to have one of your own!

So, where were we..... Yes, of course..... I put the camera down and reached for the hitachi once again, much to Mistress's relief.  Soon she was back in rhythm again, begging for permission, which I generously granted.

The result seemed to be a rather earth shattering, wake me, shake me, sort of release for Mistress.

I let her bask in the after glow for a while, pulling the hitachi away at her request.  There was plenty of time left for Slave to claim his "reward", and of course Mistress was going no where.

"I may have to burn this rod, now Mistress...."

"Why Slave?" she mumbled into her pillow.....

"I'm not sure I want it to fall into the wrong hands when switch day is over....."

Metrosexual?

Mistress and Slave had a very busy day on Saturday.

In the morning, Slave got an unexpected bonus.  Mistress had one of those annoying business "management retreats" starting at 8:30 am. The third over the last two months. (If she didn't have the contractual right to take other lovers, I'd be suspicious right?) 

I had been instructed to wake her at 7 am, but not to expect the opportunity to fuck her because of the early curtain call.

But at around 6:30 am, she called down to me as I was putting the blog to bed.

"I'm up Slave..... come upstairs NOW."

I surely wasn't going to argue with that command. And it paid the typical hot morning sex dividends for me, once I had worshiped her to a nice little wake-up cum.  Lucky Slave!

But soon she was up and out, and I was working on a variety of tasks. Planting flowers, inserting window boxes, filling her car with gas, some grocery shopping and laundry too.  I even visited my cranky mother and did some weed eating and gardening over at our City rental house. Definitely a "field slave" day for me.

This, btw, included a little bamboo "harvesting".  More on that later.

We were both home by around 2:30 pm, and Mistress deferred her worship for a nice bike ride in the steamy humidity.

By the time we got home, and Slave showered, it was time for a late afternoon nap.

Both of us were pretty burned out by then and we didn't wake until just after 6 pm.

There is nothing like an afternoon siesta to recharge the batteries -- including the sexual ones.

Soon Mistress and Slave were locked in a long leisurely embrace that evolved into something more than leisurely fucking .... at some point Mistress instructed me to "go insert your device, Slave....", the aneros that always sends a jolt to her cock. 

By the time I was given permission to cum, Mistress seemed to have had a couple of cums herself, and her Slave was moaning with desperation.

But at some point it was time to get out of bed.  We'd been invited by some friends to an art opening at their store / apartment downtown.  It's in an old 6 story building, built sometime in the 1890's I would surmise.  They sell furniture and fixtures and their second floor is a warren of high ceiling rooms. As we wondered about, Slave was looking for a quiet corner room where one might engage in some quick but compelling worship.  But, alas, the event was a little too crowded, and it felt a little "wrong" to simply close and barricade a door.

But we did get talking to the proprietress. She explained that all of the buying and design work was done by her husband. Apparently he has some great decorating instincts, and loves to shop.

The girls giggled a bit, as if these "talents" raised the spectre of sexual ambiguity.  

And, as I stood there, Mistress made a few comparisons.

"Sometimes I wonder about Mick too.  He's always been into Sondheim. And he's got a great touch when we decorate our house."

She raised her eyebrows with that little tease.  Fortunately, I was not in my cock cage, or I probably would have gotten a little "jolt", as she took that "Mistressy" tone with me in public.

"If he wasn't such a big football fan, I'd probably wonder..... but then I guess I know better."

Our friend was clearly getting a chuckle out of this.

"I guess it's that metrosexual thing..."

"I suppose so", Mistress responded. 

Cute.

She can be such a tease. 

But maybe she should have read yesterday's blog a little more carefully.


Now it's time for me to trim one of the bamboo rods I harvested yesterday. 

It is switch day, after all.

Cash Crop?

Yesterday I was driving to a meeting and had a chance to talk to Donna. She described Bill's efforts to find some blueberry bushes for developing  a little side business, and the thought of some fresh blueberries made Slave's mouth water.

After my meeting, I headed over to the home we own in the City, between tenants now. I had a couple of hours, some work to do in my bag, and wasn't inclined to head back downtown to the office.

AS it turned out it was a lovely afternoon, but a little too warm and humid to sit on the patio with my work.  But I did step through the back yard, what there is of it, to see what maintenance needed to be done this weekend.

What amazed mew was the burgeoning bamboo stand, that had spread like crazy even in the week or so since I had last stopped by.  Apparently a neighbor had planted bamboo about 25 yards up a hill from our yard about 10 years ago. But once the roots spreads, the shoots pop up everywhere, and fast.  Some of the tall stand alone plants you see here were not even visible two weeks ago.  Now they are taller than me. 

They seem to get long and firm as quickly as the WC's special occasion cock when he is getting one of those Waxing's of his on the UCTMW's AMEX card.

But this got me thinking. Rather than rent our little house out, maybe I should simply grow bamboo, dry it cure it and sell it on the internet to all you kinky folks into caning!

As you can see, these rods, are slim, whippy and I bet they sting like hell.  I could provide them in various lengths and sizes.  Maybe even decorate them or include fancy handles?

To do a little market research, I may want to rap some up and male them to Bill so he can try them out on Donna at his convenience.  And if I had an address for Suzanne, well, I'd be happy to send her a few too, to experiment with on Tammy, or maybe Sophie.  A little initial market research would be money well spent.  I may even pick up a few shoots to try ou here at the UCTMW World HQ on "switch" day. 

As it turned out, Mistress got off work a little earlier than planned. We had planned to meet at our City house and then head over to a fund raising event nearby.  So with a little extra time on our hands....

There was a blanket handy. The upstairs bed room was carpeted.  Pretty soon Mistress was naked, her legs spread and those clean shaven folds spread out before me.

Yum.

And Slave was naked too, by the way.  Once she was satisfied with the work of my lips and tongue, she deployed her own lips on her work-a-day cock and gave Slave permission to fuck her.

"It's the 2nd time for me in tow days on the floor, Slave....."

Ah yes, Thursday night at J's "love shack".

"Oh dear.... don't want to give you a sore back, Mistress."

Trust But Verify

The highlight of my Thursday was shortly after I put the blog to bed here and crept up the stairs to Mistress.  After she woke from her slumber her first question was "did you remember your ring, Slave?"

"Absolutely, Mistress...."

I think she's missed what that hard steel ring does when it traps my engorged cock and balls in its grip.

Sure enough, after I had finished my morning devotions to her clean shaven folds, my cock was throbbing for her, the ring putting not inconsiderable pressure at it's root.

"Why don't you fuck me now, Slave....."

No further manipulations were required on her part.... just some encouragement. 

"Ahhhh..... nice Slave....."

What ensued was some intense love making in our executive suite, and a rather explosive cum for me once Mistress waved the green flag with her consent.

After that, it was business as usual.  We showered. I slid the "cap" over my now shrunken cock, and presented myself to her to click the lock closed. 

"That should keep you out of trouble today, Slave."

Not that I would be inclined to get into trouble, but Mistress subscribes to that old Reagan line, "trust but verify."

Though the day she reminded me of my status with occassional, queries by text or phone.

"How's that cage, Slave?", or "love my caged slave."

Of course, these are little reminders that typically send a little jolt down below.  Most hours of the day I'm not all that conscious of that little device (other than on trips to the men's room).

Around 5 pm Mistress reported that she was off to see J for the evening.

I was soon headed to a political event where all the usual suspects were in attendance. Many asked where Molly was.... I was tempted to shock with a comment like "she had a date tonight", but mumbled instead that there was another "event" she needed to attend.

And of course, it was frustratingly stimulating to consider what exactly she and J were up to over at his "love shack".

I was home by around 8 pm, and had a few chores to attend to before settling down with the news and my New York Times.  Slave has no problem being home alone from time to time. And the fun part, of course, is when Mistress comes home to me.

It was around 11 pm.  Mistress had that "well fucked" look.  Gave me a kiss in the hallway. By then I was in my "sleeping attire": T shirt and nothing else. Other than the cage, of course.

"Slave, let me wash my face, get ready for bed, then I'll unlock this....." she gave it a little squeeze.

Of course it took her another 15 minutes or so to accomplish that..... then picked up the key and released me.

I guess that was the other highlight of my day.


I could tell she was not up to another round of sex with her Slave.... it had been a busy night for her.

So we snuggled close, she gave me a few highlights of her evening, and we drifted off.

"Wake me for sex at 7, Slave...."

"You can bet I will, Mistress."