Shelter From the (Blog-o-sphere Shit) Storm

Recently, one of our blogger colleagues had to abandon her long running blog due to a "security breach". She had a cyber stalker who she needed to throw off her trail. The details are not relevant, but she recently re-emerged in the blog-o-sphere as "Fury" (presumably she's pissed) and has to start all over again building her followers and renewing old acquaintances. (Her new blog is on our blog roll for you discerning readers).

This reminded me of an important public service that UCTMW  would be happy to provide for any of you sex bloggers who suddenly find yourself without a home. Several years ago we had concerns about a similar security breach: someone had been introduced to us, and then was  tipped off about our on-line shenanigans . We were concerned that she might blow our cover. So  we shut off access to this blog, thinking "big deal. Who will miss us? And what will we miss?"

But as it turned out, it's hard to go cold turkey when you have built a community on line like this. So we got creative, brought in Donna our Senior Correspondent and her husband Bill, our Director of Security, founders of the SBPP (Sex Bloggers Protection Program) and created an alternative blog:
Mistress and Slave on the Lam.

We found shelter far from River City in an over the top designer Yurt in Whatthehellitstan, where Mistress could tether her Slave to a tent poll while cavorting on our double wide bed with some of the locals.

The only trouble was the distinctive odor of the  dried yak dung used in the fire pit to keep the yurt warm. But you can get used to that after a while, particularly with enough burning incense. As I recall, the WC even came for a visit and developed a relationship with the Yaks in an adjoining stable that was - shall we say -- not exactly within the bounds of conventional sexual practices. But when in Whatthehellitstan....

The old blog and all of its accessories has remained dormant for some time, but that alternative universe is always available in the case of an emergency. The folks at google tell me it still gets some pageviews even now.

 So "Fury" or any other sof you out there in need of a quick exit strategy from your current blog.... or maybe an exotic holiday from your everyday submissive or dominant drudgery, just give us a quick email. All we need to do is air out the yurt, re-stock the fridge with local delicacies, and turn over the password.

The only hassle is feeding the Yaks. It's amazing how many calories they consume everyday.

Femdom Date Night

Mistress and Slave had a dinner and the theatre date night last night - something we can get away with while the Nest remains empty. We had made plans to see the BDSM themed play "Venus in Fur" which apparently is all the rage on the regional theatre circuit this year after a run in NYC in 2011. I guess sex still sells.

Mistress chose her outfit well: this black dress ornamented with hundreds of shiny steel safety pins - I always feel in jeopardy of piercing when she has this dress on. But it certainly has a Domme-ish quality, don't you think? At least for River City.

We had arranged for her to meet me at my office at around 5:30 pm, which meant that most of my colleagues had already left for the day, providing a little extra privacy for a pre-dinner appetizer for her devoted Slave. Of course, tights season is over, even though we've had some chilly weather this week. The sun over the weekend gave Mistress's naked legs a nice early spring glow, and I was happy to fall to my knees and savor her natural juices once she wriggled out of her black panties.  She didn't even have to take the shoes off.

When she came in response to the ministrations of my tongue and lips, she let out a soft but clearly discernible moan. But I think it's unlikely anyone heard.....

Once Mistress had reassembled herself, we headed off for dinner at a hipster Japanese street food joint a few blocks away. Mistress enjoyed some sake. I sipped a local craft beer, but felt a little naked without a porkpie hat or $300 sneakers. It's a part of town where the urbanistas have dug in, with surprising relish. Of course, Mistress fit right in with her black dress with safety pin garnish  look. Slave in his blue blazer .... not so much.

After dinner we headed over to the local playhouse. I'm not sure if it's a local phenomenon, or true with regional theatre everywhere --- but it's an ancient crowd. When this old Slave appears to be 5 yrs. below the median age, you know there's a demographics problem. And with all those old codgers there, it seemed particularly creepy when the evening's entertainment is a play that tries to both con temporise and satirize the original 19th Century BDSM novel.

Of course, we had to giggle when the female in this two character play proclaims that the male has become her "slave" and prepares a contract documenting the terms of his submission.

There was plenty of skin, lots of kneeling, and a little bondage at the end. But no actual sex (real or simulated). It was clever and  funny, but not particularly  erotic. And it wasn't clear how the blue haired crowd was reacting to it, including the older couple sitting next to Mistress who seemed to have left their dentures at home. I can't imagine their conversation on the way home.

If only they'd known that they were sitting next to a real live Mistress and Slave --- would they have been as disappointed as Suzanne to know that Slave was out late without his cock cage on?

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:

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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.