HNT / Wildlife Edition

I decided to take the day off from my work email and handyman tasks here at our Mountain hideaway and take a long and strenuous hike to the top of our state - a 13,147 foot peak not too far from our driveway.

It turned out to be a beautiful day on the ascent - I hit the trail at 7 am to avoid those afternoon thunderstorms we've been having here. And as the going got steeper and the air thinner I made sure to stop frequently for a minute or so to catch my breath and take in the amazing views: including big horn sheep in the meadows across from the trail, and lots of cute little Marmot scampering about, like this guy:

It's a long hike - 3.5 hours up - and steep. Very steep, with lots of loose rock to stumble on. It tests an old slave's cardio-vascular system, and for another year I seemed to pass the test. Though I did have my doubts. When I finally made the summit I found myself up there with a young woman who, for the life of me, seemed to have the body double of Mistress at age 26, or so, when I first was smitten by her.

Was this an hallucination? Had I really had some heart attack somewhere on the trail and completed the climb in some other dimension?

She had the same long sexy legs, her tight ass tightly contained by what clingy riding shorts that left little  to the imagination. Her hair was a sun bleached brown. And when the cool breeze at the summit kicked up, the skin on those long legs broke out into some mind boggling goose bumps that called out for a man to hold her tight and warm her up....

"Mistress.... is that you.... have we been reunited in some alternative universe? "
(I hope I didn't say that our loud, but I can't be sure.)

Well apparently it was not an hallucination. Once I caught my breath and my heart beat returned to something comparable to a resting pace, I struck up a conversation: this vision from my past was actually a medical resident from the Denver area, who was young enough to be a middle daughter for me. And while her stunning bod made her a dead ringer for the Molly I met back in 1987, her face was more Chloe Sivigny. Still, not bad.

Shame on you old Slave!

When I briefly lost my balance perched on a rock to take a photo of the amazing view, I made a quick recovery. "Good catch", she said, she mentioning it was good there was a doctor around in case I busted my skull (or something).  Somehow I felt reassured. But I was tempted to consider faking some malady that might require her to conduct an "examination".

She took a photo of me at the top on my camera. And I took a photo of her on my camera. I was tempted to ask her if it was OK for me to "capture" her on my camera, purely for tourism purposes of course. But my training kicked it. We exchanged first names, but Mistress will be happy to know that I made no effort to suggest I "show her around town" last night after our hike was completed... presuming that I survived.

Of course, any interest Slave had in this vision from our past was purely nostalgic!

(No Suzanne, I did not wear the cage on this 7 hour hike.... just to get that question off the table.)

In the meantime, Mistress was having her own adventures in the mysterious East. She sent photos from a  19,000 ft. altittude lake at the border of India and China, including this photo of some Yaks in a nearby pasture:

 

This reminded us of our sojourn to that charming, tricked out  Yurt in Whattheheckitstan a couple of years back, documented in our other blog Mistress and Slave on the Lam. And of course, the WC, who ended up at the wrong end of a Yak out in the shed when he came to visit. The WC has had some health problems of late, and we are worried about him.... please send him good vibes for a rapid recovery. We miss him here.

Finally, some of you drawn by the HNT tag are probably wondering: is all we get Marmots and Yaks.... I want my money back... oh yeah, if this was a pay site, Google would have pulled our plug. So in all fairness, here is a photo of happier times here at the Mountain Hideaway:

Our patio is just not the same without Mistress working on eliminating her tan lines!

Oops...Did I delete that cock-shot?

Last night Slave was invited to dinner at the home of some friends from Houston. It was a familiar crowd - two couples from Texas; another couple from Oklahoma; a local troubadour and his charming wife. Lots of wine and other mentally disarming substances were consumed. And the absence of Mistress Molly was commented on frequently.

Any affair  can be a little dull without her to stir things up. But these folks were trying. Maybe trying to hard.

At some point during dinner - possibly to change the subject from someone going into too vivid details about a recent incident of a peeking Tom in a port-a-pody - I elected to display a photo Mistress had sent with her and the kids from the highest highway pass in the world - 19,000 feet - near the India - Pakistan border.

There was some oohing and ahhing, but then the person holding my I-phone started thumbing through my pictures, commenting and displaying to others some other nice shots Mistress had forwarded to me via Viber. (oops....another product placement).

I thought it was cute.  but then I realized there might be a particular photo there that would be excruciatingly humiliating.... had I bothered to erase that cockshot Mistress had demanded I send her the other day?

I realized that not acting would be crazy, so I stood up, walked around the table and politely said,

"Now B, you may not want to see all those photos....."

I reached down and gently retrieved my phone.

Of course B was no idiot....

"Hmmmm..... there must be something on there Mick doesn't want us to see..... "

"See he's blushing.....I knew it.... did she send you titty shots?   .... I bet that's it."

I simply slid my camera back into my pocket. A "you got me" smirk on my face.

"I'm exercising my Fifth Amendment rights....."

Was I wrong to let the table assume that it was Mistress who's body parts could have been found on my I-phone?

And what would Miss Manners say about a person who - without permission - starts looking for more than the photo you proferred on your I-phone for her to see?

Was handing her the phone an invitation to go exploring in my files?

Please help me sort out this social conundrum.

Mistress Calls Her Slave to Account

Poor Mistress... she was rousted at 4 am out of some romantic (if you can call sharing quarters with your mother romantic) high altitude
lux-o-rustic tent somewhere too close to Pakistan for my taste last night. Her guide reported that because of a likely shut-down of highways after a terrorist bombing of a sacred Buddhist site, they should bust ass back to the hotel they had been staying had and sequester themselves until a day of angry monk protests had subsided.

That explains why she surprised me with a call last evening, when I thought she was "off the grid". After she filled me in on the latest developments in this 21st Century  odyssey of the white chicks through the near east, she came to the subject of most concern to her:

"Well Slave.... thanks for that cockshot"?

(Did I mention that she had required me to send a cock shot before I "took matters into my own hands" on Sunday.)

"You're welcome, Mistress.... though I felt a little weird about it... you know how hard its been for you to erase all those cock shots you got from the WC ... with photo stream they just keep reproducing themselves.... and what if the kids get a glimpse on your i-phone...."

Sounds like I'm whining right? But I am a little bit of a worry wart on the display of her work-a-day cock.

"Oh Slave... it was nice to see what I'm missing.... and it kind of got me hot."

Well that's a plus.

Then she started asking more questions:

"So what were you thinking about when you did it, Slave...."

Now that's an even more put your dude on the spot question than that tried and true standard:

"Tell me what you're thinking about..."

The one that makes most guys cringe. But  when it's that general, its usually easy to come up with something. Say you were thinking about why your favorite sports team fucked up last night... or maybe the lyrics to a Bruce Sprinsteen song.  But you can always ad lib with something like "how hot you look today, babe."

Am I right?

But when your Mistress / wife asks you: "what were you thinking about when you jerked off on my orders yesterday after emailing me a photo of your engorged cock with a mountain vista in the background".

Well that requires a little more .... dexterity. Truth be told I really couldn't remember....but I tired my best:

"I was thinking of some buff young Buddhist Monk.... saffron robes, bare feet, powerful thighs ... cornering you in a secluded chamber at one of those Temples you've been visiting and tossing aside his decades long vow of chastity just for a moment with you, Mistress. You were on your knees, unwarapping his loin cloth to see if he was "cut" or not when I reached the point of no return."

So, how did I do?

Better Fashion Choice

Slave found some baggy grandpa jeans in the closet. Maybe not much of a fashion statement. But not a threat of decockatation when combined with my cowboy boots for a night at the local Cantina.