Cuckoldress in Training?

On Sunday afternoon we traveled up to our cute Co-Ed's bucolic college campus for a quick dinner to see how she's doing. We even brought along Mistress's mother, who dotes on her granddaughter and even made her some cookies to share with her roommate.

All very heartland, right?

But at dinner the conversation turned to her plans for Valentine's Day.

Her sorority, in a joint party with another sorority,  has rented out a local bar in this quaint midwestern college town for Valentine's Day. The cuties are getting all dressed up for the occasion. Apparently they aren't going to leave it to chance that they have Valentine's Day plans with their beaus. And I mean that in the plural.

"So do you have a date?", grandma asked.

She described some lad from upstate NY she had invited, but said she's having trouble coming up with another one.

This woke old Mick up.

"Isn't one good enough?"

She explained the rules.

"We're each supposed to invite two boys."

Huh?

It seemed that the sororities are flipping the lyrics from that old Beach Boys' song, "Surf City".  The objective is to have 2 boys for every girl.  If our daughter doesn't pick another one lad soon, her roommate (purportedly the daughter of a Playboy Bunny) may have to invite three.

I had grandma laughing as I joked about the need for back-up guys at crunch time.

So, friends, watch out (or look forward).  There maybe a new generation of cuckoldresses on the prowl.  Next thing you know, they won't be using those sorority paddles for purely decorative purposes.

Slave's Comeuppance

Sunday started out pretty normally here at the UCTMW World HQ.

Because of an early spinning class, Mistress deferred out traditional "wake-up sex" until after she was nice and sweaty from an hour on the faux bike, surrounded by a variety of socially competitive work out buffs.

"Some people actually have spinning 'outfits' and come all made up at 9 on a Sunday morning, Slave..."

"You look better than them au natural, Mistress."

I eased up on my Switch Day rights,  simply treating Mistress to some time with the her favorite power tool wedged between her thighs.  Then, once she asked permission to cum, and I gave it, Mistress allowed me to fuck her properly, much to our mutual enjoyment.

After that, there was another round of catch up with Downton Abbey via the PBS website, and a trip by Slave for provisions at the local grocery store. (Slave used a lapse in the upper crust twit Downton "action" to pleasure Mistress with my devoted lips and tongue. She seems to enjoy laying next to me, on full display. And its hard to resist the temptation).

We even fit in a brief nap, before heading up to our cute Co-Ed's campus to share dinner with her, bring up a Valentine's Day gift, and find out how her semester is going.

It's a short trip, so we were back around 7:30 pm. We watched a little more TV and paged through the Times when Mistress had a surprise announcement.

"Slave.... I've been way too lax on you these last few weeks, and it's not been good. You've become too surly...."

Moi, an uppity, Slave?

"What ever could you mean, Mistress?"

I tried to look shocked, but she's probably right. I have taken my "pampered house slave" status a little for granted.

"I think you know exactly what I mean....it's been weeks since I fucked you in the ass...then you raised your voice the other night, and you know what I think about that.... and there's been a little too much sarcasm of late.... tonight you're getting a spanking before bed time."

While it wasn't exactly clear what had led to this revelation, I was certainly not going to defy Mistress. After all, our life together is as good as one man could ever expect. And I am pampered...spoiled even.... I'm the guy who gets to go home with (and fuck) the hottest babe I know. It's been that way for more than 20 years. Pinch me!

We watched a little more TV. But when we elected to head to bed, Mistress gave me unambiguous instructions.

"Get out the crop, and get into position, Slave.  I'll take care of you after I get ready for bed.

Slave did exactly that, laying the crop at the foot of our bed.

And when she was ready, directing me onto my belly, she wasted no time laying about 10 hard wacks on my ass that made me squirm and yelp.

I'll confess I don't take these "like a man".

"No more surly, Slave..... have I made myself clear....."

"Yes, Mistress....."

When she was done, I feasted on those clean shaven folds, making sure she had one more cum before bedtime.  I'd be waiting until this morning for my own reward.

"Nice, Slave....", she said as she laid back on her pillow, seemingly purged of her annoyance at me.

'Can I expect a better attitude this week, Slave....."

"I will do my very best, Mistress....."

And I will.

A Tale of Two Cities

Here in River City, things are reliably calm, if a little bland,  this weekend.

The weather is  damp and chill. But the few inches of snow we had last week are long gone.

Last night after work, Mistress and Slave shared some drinks at a local bar with a colleague she wanted me to meet. Someone who found her on Linked In and wants her to get involved in a "start-up" he has imagined. He's a smart but bland fellow, and short. Not Mistress's "type" in a cuckold sort of way.

And the odd part was that he would meet with the two of us only on an evening when his wife was out of town.

"The less she knows about what I'm doing, the better...."

Well that's one approach.  I politely made it clear to this fellow that Mistress has no reason to hide anything from me.

"We've been married a while. And Molly has free range to do whatever she's inclined to do. She doesn't need my permission".

The guy's eyes seemed to open a little wider than normal.  But I'm not sure that he fully understand that what I was conveying was not simply about finance and employment. 

After we finished our beers / wine, Mistress and I headed home.

"So what did you think of him, Slave."

"He's not a total charlatan, Mistress. But he does have delusions of grandeur."

Actually, he seemed like a nice and earnest fellow. But it's obvious he has a crush on Mistress. Shame for him that he's not her "type".

Back at home, we still had time to catch the last episode of Season 2 of Downton Abbey via Hulu.  Mistress is enthralled with this soap opera, circa 1920, featuring a cast of English upper crusters and their servants. Slave is a little less amused, though I do enjoy all of the accents, and the archaic phrasing and social conventions. And when things get a tad too melodramatic, I can always slip to my knees and savor Mistress's clean shaven folds, fully on display and taunting me as she splays across the couch next to me in her short nightie, sans panties.

Yum. 

Bringing Mistress a lovely cum is much more entertaining than yet another round of longing and denial for the luckless Anna and Mr. Bates.

Meanwhile, in Boston and environs, they seem to be in the midst of Snowmageddon. 

We've heard nothing more from the randy cast over at ALL Mine since last evening. But we are deeply concerned. With more than 2 feet of snow overnight, and hurricane force winds, could it be that their power is off? 

If so, how will they post a blog? Or avoid freezing for that matter?

I asked our Director of Security to see if he could hack into the surveillance cams at their Cuckold Compound north of the City, and Bill found some disturbing images for the last 24 hours.

This one appears to show Suzanne surveying her kingdom in the early stages of the storm:

Nice boots. But be careful in that ice. It might not be as firm as it seems. 

But images from later in the evening and this morning raise some concern about the common sense of this trio when confronted with such wintery conditions.  Is this Tammy on "fluffing" duty?

If so, he seems to have lingered a little too long in his task.

And when Jay was finally prepared to deploy the Trophy Cock to please Suzanne.... well, maybe they should have kept the fun inside:

Let's hope they've been gently thawed and survived the night. We don't want them to loose and crucial apendages to frost bite.

Blizzard!

Here in River City we have some Irish weather today.... chilly and damp.  And since Mistress was leaving the house a little later than normal, it gave us some extra time in the warmth of our bed for some slow and lazy wake up sex. It was hard to disentangle myself, but duty called.

But we are deeply concerned about the well being of our friendly competitors in the blog-o-sphere over at All Mine. According to increasingly alarmist weather reports, a blizzard of historic proportions is bearing down on their cozy (if highly secret) hideaway somewhere in scenic New England.

No doubt panic is setting in, as all those reputedly hardy, flinty souls of the Northeast scramble to clear grocery shelves of milk, bread, eggs, and duct tape. I'll bet Tom Brady may be picking up the last available Spanx and ballet slippers at Target even as we speak. And for extra warmth, a certain football coach is desperately looking for a hoodie without the sleeves sliced off.

Of course, anything that happens in the Northeast, with its hyper-active media and chattering classes,  is far more newsworthy than the mundane goings on here in the heartland. Doing a little research, I discovered a whole page of photos on Google images about the "Great Blizzard of 1978". There was even a picture book on the subject.

I can remember the winter of 1978 and a blizzard of seemingly equal "horror" here in River City the week my first daughter was born. We sucked it up and took the bus to work! Can you imagine that?

And Mistress and I hunkered down and through the blizzard of 2012 in Illinois and Indiana a few weeks back in our aging AWD Volvo.

But back to our friends at All Mine, in the eye of the storm. With the snow and wind bearing down on them, I suspect that Tammy, Suzanne, and Jay have taken the day off, and will be hunkering down  until the road crews figure a way to rescue them.

Presuming they want to be rescued.

This would seem like a good time for the three of them to engage in some boundry pushing, don't you think?

In particular, maybe Suzanne should consider exploring what surely must be a secret fantasy of any self-respecting Cuckoldress / Domme: fitting her otherwise Alpha lover Jay with his own chastity device.  With a full weekend with no where to go, what better time to get those tender guy parts accustomed to the friendly confines of a cock cage?

I just wouldn't let him operate a snow blower with one of those infernal devices on just yet, Suzanne. At least not until he gets used to it.

And Suzanne, if you decide to take some time off from deploying Big Blackie for some other spontaneous winter sports, please dress appropriately. We don't want you to catch a chill.