HNT/ Switch Day Outtake

It would be a shame to waste some of the unused photos from our Easter Sunday Switch day. In fact, almost irreverent.

And this shows that you don't need fancy overpriced bondage equipment. An old, faded beach towel, torn into 3 inch strips will make do in a pinch.

BTW, last night Mistress's Mom, the Dowager Domme, hosted a fundraising event for a local politician with larger aspirations. She had some of her work colleagues there, who dutifully came to nibble on the shrimp and cheese cubes, drink a little wine, and listen attentively to Mr. Aspirations. Among the assembled throng was the local fellow who sussed out our blog a couple of years back. We see him occasionally here in the neighborhood or Mistress encounters him at work. Did we call him R here a while back?

In any event, he's one of the few people in River City who knows the secret identity of Mick and Molly. Sadly, with all the milling professional colleagues lurking, we did not have a chance to catch up on developments in the blog world. I did want to ask him if he's checked out the UCTMW Tumblr page, which has been fun to update with some reblogs along with some "blasts from the past" photos from the Molly Semi-Nakers catalog. It's always about finding new uses for the same old content, isn't it?

Mistress Unearths Some Kinky Blog Fodder

One thing I forgot to mention about Sunday's Switch Day proceedings was the deployment of a certain favorite power tool.

With Mistress spread eagled face down on the bed, and her ass turning a nice shade of red from the spanking I was administering betwixt the application of an ice cube to her more sensitive parts, it seemed only fair that she have a carrot as well as a stick during these proceedings.

Fortunately the hitachi was handy, so I wedged it under her, and up against the tender bits, leaving it to do its devious and compelling work, and freeing up my hands for spanks and other important tasks.

That left Mistress to figure a way to get the right purchase on her power tool's business end, unable to use her hands or move her legs.

Poor dear.

Particularly amusing was spanking her ass when all those muscles were taut and clenched as she desperately sought to squeeze down onto the hitachi to get that little extra boost required for her cum.

After a while I doubt she even noticed how red her ass was getting. And the resulting cum -- she even asked permission first - was particularly compelling as she moaned into her pillow and jerked against her restraints.

Yesterday Mistress was still commenting on the intensity of the experience. Clearly, Slave has been lazy and needs to make sure I don't disregard my switch day options in the weeks to cum.

Mistress did find some interesting reading material to share with me, and you, yesterday evening as she was relaxing in bed while her devoted Slave cleaned up after dinner.

"Wow, Slave.... an article on "Butt Play" in NY Magazine.... it's going mainstream, and reminds me that I haven't fucked you in the ass lately...."

Hmmmm. Now there's something to look forward to.....

Here is the link: Warning: A Column on Butt Play. But as I ran through the column I must say I was a little disappointed. While there was some discussion of "rim jobs" (something neither Mistress or her Slave find particularly appetizing), and the occasional finger up the ass, there was no coverage at all of the joys of a woman deploying a strap-on on her male lover.  Here's the closest the author comes to female dominance:

-->

Still, “there’s a difference between the guy who wants to, like, bury his face in your ass and inhale your crack sweat and get all up in there, versus the guy who sticks his finger up your ass because he wants you to reciprocate,” a female friend observed over whiskeys on a recent night out. “He wants a finger up his ass but can’t ask for it because he’s afraid of seeming gay or something. It’s like the guy who asks you to hold his balls and then is like, ‘Maybe squeeze a little, maybe? … Harder, maybe? … Harder! Harder! Harder!’ Until suddenly you’re like, ‘Wait, you’re totally into cock-and-ball torture.’ You really want me to stomp on your nuts; you just don’t know how to ask.’ ”

This author clearly had limited sources for her piece. Maybe she should spend an hour over drinks with Suzanne or Mistress to get a more complete picture of the options available when it comes to a woman engaging in some ass play with an eager lover.

The Resurrection of Switch Day

No, we're not a particularly religious household here at UCTMW.

We let both of the religious holidays from our respective traditions go unhonored this week. When Mistress's sister once again asked her whether she could borrow the "Passover Plate" gifted to her some time ago, she had to explain (0nce again) that she had given it away to a friend who invited us over for Passover years ago.

And Easter? Well, let's just say that it's honored only in the secular sense: when our divas in training were young there were the Easter Egg hunts, with little plastic eggs filled with candy or spare change.
And of course, the Easter baskets filled with unhealthy confections.

Yesterday, it was Mistress Mother (the senior Domme of the family) who came up with the baskets - at a brunch at her house that, fortunately, was scheduled late enough for us to indulge in some wake-up sex and a bike ride before we got down to some serious face stuffing.

The baskets for Mistress, her sister and our Cute Co-Ed were filled to the rim with the traditonal staples: Reese's eggs, pink M&M's, chocolate eggs, and the indispensable Peeps.

What is it with Peeps?  They taste like plastic to me, and are even less digestible.  But Mistress and our daughters live for those nasty little suckers.  At least someone had a better idea for their use this Easter:

After our big brunch, the plan was to adjourn to the UCTMW World HQ, kiss our cute Co-Ed goodbye as she drove back to campus, and then adjourn to the Executive Suite for some hot sex.

But the cute Co-Ed lingered, giving Mistress more time on our deck in some early spring sunshine, and Slave time for some field Slave duties in the yard. It wasn't until 4 pm or so that the Co-Ed finally drove off, meaning it was nap time for Mistress and her Slave.

I suspect she figured that I'd be too lazy for anything particularly kinky when I woke from my slumber. But she had a surprise in store. What better time than Easter to "Ressurect" our Switch Day tradition?  It takes a little more effort, but it's usually worth it.

Soon Mistress found her self stretched wide on the bed, with Slave alternating between spanks and some teasing tickles with an ice cube on her sides, toes and ass.  Her involuntary squirming certainly tested the bonds that held her ... but they were more than ready for the challenge.  I did stop to snap some photos though, and one handy prop was very helpful to avoid a XXX rating:

 It's a shame we don't have any pinks cuffs to match the peeps.

Mistress's Fantasy Date Lives to Climb Another Day

Here at the UCTMW World HQ it's a little too busy this weekend. Our cute Co-Ed is home for a few days. Mistress is throwing a fancy birthday party for her aging Domme of a Mom, and Slave is dealing with his own cranky mother. 

Saturday is likely to me over-programmed, and not much fun.  Then there is "Easter Brunch" at the birthday grandma's house.

But once we work our way through that, the Co-Ed will be heading back to campus, and Mistress and Slave have scheduled some quality time here in the Executive Suite. We may have to relaunch the tradition of "Switch Sunday".

"You've been a little lazy on that front lately, Slave."

Hmmm. Maybe if I find that bamboo cane she may regret what she's asking for?

Yesterday Mistress did have a bit of a jolt.

When news broke about the deadly Avalanche at Mt. Everest, she realized that her fantasy mountain man from our SW hideaway was there leading  a team of climbers. Not long after the news broke, MM posted on his facebook account that he and his team were safe and well, though mourning the loss of too many Sherpas doing the dirty work of preparing the ropes and ladders for the deep pocketed foreigners who come each year just to make another check mark on their bucket list.

When so many people die playing a game of Nepalese roulette on an avalanche prone  swath of that mountain, just to create photo ops for wealthy Westerners, one has to wonder about the sanity - or morality - of the enterprise.

But at least Mistress's fantasy date is still around to keep her hopes alive.

On a blog housekeeping matter, Slave has now opened a UCTMW Tumblr account, where I will be posting some of our favorite photos of Mistress accumulated over the years, and sharing other photos that may draw my attention. It's listed on the blog roll of you want to check it out.

Hope all of our readers find each and every egg the Bunny may hide in your household!