Mistress Gets Her Comeuppance

I think she thought I had forgotten.

It was a Sunday morning here at the UCTMW World HQ, Mistress had scheduled a 9:30 am spinning class for her and the not quite as sullen teen, probably to hasten things along in the executive suite.

She actually feigned surprise  after she read yesterday's blog about her exalted status as Publisher and CEO here at UCTMW, when I told her it was time for her spanking.

I wasn't surprised to find that the riding crops usually found in our closet had inexplicably disapeared.

Never mind. It was Switch day. The palm of my hand would have to do.

Yes, our daughter was just down the hall. I cranked up the classical music station on the radio to cover up the sound as my palm met the lush firm flesh of her lovely tush.

She did her fair share of squirming, and mounted some faux protests.

"What did I do to deserve this, Slave?"

"Well let's think ...  how about telling the girls and your mother about me reading Fifty Shades of Grey...."

"Ohhhh..... now I remember.... I guess that was bad, wasn't it."

"Maybe I should have said it was purely for literary purposes.... so I could review it for our sex blog."

"I don't think they'd understand that, Slave."

I rattled her ass with a few more quick and solid blows with my palm. Which seemed to get her attention.

"No .... instead they just think I'm some sort of perv...."

"Owww.... that hurt Slave...."

Of course, the poor dear by now was squirming, and her cheeks were suddenly warm to the touch. But as I dipped my digits between her legs it was also clear that her folds were sopping.

She is quite a slut, isn't she?

Once she'd had her due, I stopped to take a photo to document her Switch Day punishment.

But I am a softy at heart. I retrieved the Hitachi from beneath the bed, and deployed it from behind. She was more than happy to part her thighs to make room for it.

Soon she was quaking to one of those slowly building by oh so intense cums of hers.

And once the dust settled, Slave made sure to fully exercise his switch day privileges of fucking Mistress long and hard.

Payback was well worth the wait.

The Buck Stops With Mistress

Over the last few news cycles, there has been talk that organizational titles have no apparent meaning.

A certain Presidential candidate, who has been crossing the land touting his background in business and job "creation", was confronted with documents filed with the SEC, showing that he described himself as "President, CEO and Chairman" of a certain "pioneer in outsourcing". But he claims those titles actually meant that he "had no association with [the company's] management." Nada. The buck stopped somewhere else.... maybe Zurich?

I guess it was just  an extreme case of job title inflation.

Apparently some other guys were actually in charge: maybe they had titles like "Emperor" or "Supreme Leader".

Those of you familiar with the masthead at UCTMW know that we like to bestow titles from time to time. Our vast Media Empire has not outsourced any jobs yet (though it would be nice to have a London Bureau for Olympic coverage next month). But we do have a Western Correspondent. A Senior Correspondent. A Director of Security - International. The other day, Bill, the aforementioned Director of Security submitted a capitol appropriations request for some extra equipment so that Donna could multi-task and assist him as required:

We may put this particular acquisition off until  next fiscal year.


The long lost Francois was our Executive Chef and Director of Catering Services for a while. And last fall we created important titles in a spin off organization: the Sex Bloggers Protection Program.

I have worn a few hats myself:  Executive Editor, Director of Human Resources, General Counsel,  Mailboy, etc.

But there has never been any doubt about who is and remains in charge. Mistress / Molly is our Chief Executive, President and Chair of the Board here at the UCTMW World HQ.

And while some have accused me of being a pampered house slave, and "not really a Sub", I try to make it clear to her on a daily basis that she has my complete,total and obsequious loyalty and devotion.

She has gotten used to calling me her Slave, even to the point of potential embarrassment. You know how you can send a text message to more than one person at a time?  Sometimes we will do that, linking in one or both daughter to communicate about dinner plans or other schedule details. Well yesterday, Mistress had a ridiculously early morning company "retreat" (yet another excuse to get management to work on weekends). She left at 7:30 am and Slave lingered in bed, reading the Times, pining for the absence of our traditional "wake- up" sex.

At around 8 am she sent a text upon her arrival:

"Hi Slave. Miss you."

It took me a while to realize that it was sent on a "string" that included our sullen teen.

Ouch.

I sent Mistress a seperate text, confirming I missed her too, and pointing out that her last message was not "private".

So far we've gotten no snide feedback from the teen. Of course, she thinks we are weird and crazy anyway.

We did find ourselves back in the Executive Suite together by late afternoon.

Mistress was pretty burned out from work and she did stop by her lover J's house on the way home, for some apparently chaste conversation (his son is still visiting).

We napped a bit before it was time for some "banish the bad work vibes" sex. Mistress made sure that her cock was particularly attentive by requiring me to insert the aneros beforehand. And her Slave made sure her clean shaven folds were fully worshipped, wringing a nice bucking and moaning cum from her before even thinking about asking for permission to fuck her.

As I have tried to make clear: there is no confusion about the chain of command in this partiular organization.

Mistress Dusts Off Her Hitachi

We've picked up our game a little as a busy week comes to an end here in the no longer empty UCTMW nest . Wednesday evening was our planned "family dinner" here - J, his son, our two daughters  - a nice social evening with the cuckoldry on the back burner.

At least that was the expectation.

But things took a licentious turn. First, the cute Co-Ed announced she was going out with friends and would skip dinner.

OK.  Who can blame her.

Then the not quite as sullen teen announced that she would be off shortly after dinner to visit a friend.

So now we are down to just four of us, with J's son engrossed in our big flat screen computer.

"I'm happy to keep an eye on [the son] if you two want to head upstairs to 'confer' a bit...."

Aren't I an understanding Slave.  It had been about three weeks since the two lovebirds had some private time. Who knows what sort of footsy they'd been playing under the table. But I figured it was high time for them to "get a room".

They were a little surprised at my offer, but took but 30 seconds or so to take me up on it, heading upstairs as I settled down with my paper on a ouch adjacent to J's son, who seemed oblivious to the whereabouts of his dad for the next 40 minutes or so.

After they left, Mistress gave me a sanitized version of what unfolded: He wanted to see me use the Hitachi, Slave.... that seems to get his motor running.... so I gave him a little show, was that OK?"

Well it's hardly for me to judge, isn't it?

"And he did some licking too.... I think he likes that almost as much as you do...."

Why settle for one tongue when you can ahve too, right ladies?

In fact, yesterday Slave had one of his rare opportunities for some mid-day worship.

Mistress had to stop by my office to sign some papers. Once the signing and notarizing was done, she had a few spare moments to bare those clean shaven folds for me.  I took a photo of her open toed summer shoes.

Cute toes, don't you think?  My guess is that some subs would be more than happy to indulge in some toe worship with those available. But time was limited, so I cut to the chase.... sliding to my knees to devour some of those addictive juices, until Mistress succumbed to a nice post lunch cum.

Yum.

AS it turned out, Mistress had to work late last night, which gave me a chance to take the sullen teen to see the new Spiderman movie. Yet another re-launch of the tale, but actually pretty good for such things. And while she brought up the likelihood of a "Fifty Shades of Grey" movie as the trailers ran, at least I didn't get cross-examined about why I had read that silly book.

We got home at around 9:45 pm, and Mistress was already in bed, in a cute nightie, looking unusually blissful.

Hmmmmm.

After we settled in, she made a little confession.

"Slave.... I hope you don't mind.... but I was talking to J before you got home, and he said he wanted to listen to me use the Hitachi....."

Well that explains that particularly relaxed demeanor.

"Did he enjoy listening to you come, Mistress....."

"He seemed to Slave....."

It's good to know my services were not too badly missed while watching the old web-slinger.  Special effects should not just be limited to the big screen.

A Commentary on Romance from Our Senior Correspondent

Donna, Our Senior Correspondent passed on the following to share with our readers:

 I  just read a blog about things that are considered to be romantic. The blog talked about how most men and women consider sending flowers, or going dancing, or gifting expensive colognes and perfumes to be romantic. I didn't comment there, but want to here. I think it's the connection to more that makes things romantic. Any dumbo can order flowers, it's the follow-up that makes the romance.

For example, my favorite blooms are wild flowers still growing in a field or blooming along the side of the road. We regularly drive through the mountains to see them, stopping to lay out a blanket and make love. When Bill pulls the duffel bag containing the blanket, lube and a clean wash cloth out of the back of the truck and I know he planned this, that's romance.

  And we enjoy dancing, but at home rather than out. Bill turns up the music on the stereo and spins me in the wheelchair, dancing around it with that sort of 70s dancing style that is less a real dance and more of a sexy, swinging wiggle. It makes me laugh, it makes my heart swell, and that's romance.

  I am in the middle of being fitted for a new wheelchair. It's been over 20 years since my last new chair and Bill goes with me to each appointment, voices his opinion and then steps back for me to make the final choices. He rubs my neck and gives me a nod of encouragement as I make the choices that are right for the changes in my body rather than what I would prefer to have. That's romance!

And the fist pump and shout he gave when the physical therapist said it looks like the insurance company will probably cover many of the upgrades that will keep me more mobile, that was romantic, too.

And here's romance for you. I haven't been able to lie flat in a bed for months due to changes in my spine, so I sleep in a special recliner in the den. Someday we'll be able to afford one of those beds that can be adjusted for each person and we'll share a bed at night again, but for now this is how it is. There is never a complaint from Bill. He tucks me into the recliner very lovingly with a deep kiss, some nipple twists and goes on to bed. Romance!

When Bill decides we will make love or partake in some BDSM, he brings out the ramps, positions them for me, and places me where I will be safe while he spanks or flogs my ass and shoves dildos and vibrators here and there, and then breaks out the Hitachi. Romance!

 Thanks, Donna. And what I particularly liked was this chart of wheel chair friendly positions that you also forwarded today. You may need to update us on your progress through this selection.