HNT: Tights Season?

It's been unseasonably cool here in the heartland. Fall is definitely in the air, a few weeks earlier than normal. But the question remains whether Mistress will be watching the calendar or the thermometer when it comes to kicking off Slave's fetish for her black tights.

I couldn't help but notice that some of the ladies downtown had already launched into their fall fashion regimes yesterday. I did as good a job as one could to appear disinterested.

As for the source of my own fetish for women in tights or hose, it probably goes back to middle school days, when some of the lovelier girls in my 8th grade class began wearing over the knee socks or hose that had me distracted as the nuns bored us with the days rote recitations of multiplication tables or passages from the catechism.

Mistress has freely taken advantage my "weakness" over the years, appearing in my office with those peek-a-boo tights, and allowing me access from her thrown as she spreads her legs, and I grovel before her, my face buried at the juncture of her thighs.

She knows my weakness, and like a clever NFL offensive coordinator, she's more than happy to exploit it. And I fall for it, hard, every time.

I guess that's why I am well suited to be her slave, and she my Mistress.

(Masters of) Sex Night

Mistress and Slave have one guilty pleasure these days: hunkering down in front of the TV on Monday evenings to catch the previous night's episode of "Masters of Sex". (We are too lazy to wait up until 10 pm on Sunday night to catch the new episode's first showing).

For those who have not caught the show (now in it's 2nd season), it is a glossy, soap opera-ish recapitulation of the careers of William Masters and Virginia Johnson, who reputedly pioneered sex research back in the 1950's. Or as Mistress would put it "It's Mad Men with more sex."

Yes: lot's of period costumes, autos, attitudes, and lingerie.

Who can resist that, particularly old Slaves who came of age in the 50's and 60's.

It doesn't hurt that they've cast the leads with an actor and actress who certainly bring more heat to their roles than the originals.

Here are the historical figures:

Very frumpy St. Louis, right, though at least Virginia is showing a little knee.

Now here are the lovely Lizzy Caplan and Michael Sheen in character:

Definitely an improvement, don't you think, even with the  dweeby bow tie.

In the laboratory, the pair develop ground breaking technology to "lift the hood" on female sexual response:

 

Yes, you guessed right on where this goes. And it's equipped with a camera that gets an interesting view. There are many scenes of copulation and masturbation by the various "subjects" recruited to participate in the Study.

In season one, the pair decide that it "only makes sense" to participate in their own study of sexual pairs copulating. "Offering it up" for science. Of course, there have to be wires and monitors to record all the fun. Otherwise, it would just be adultery, right?

But by season two, the wires have been set aside and their ongoing tryst occurs at a local hotel, giving us plenty of opportunities to see Lizzy / Virginia in various stages of undress.

Slave has no complaints about those scenes. Here is a little video mash up with some of the racier scenes tossed in. (Warning:  perky nipples included).

This year there have even been some hints at Lizzy assuming a more Domme-ish role, including one semi-botched attempt at bondage in last night's episode.

All of this sexual melodrama has a certain effect, which we can recommend. After we adjourned to bed following the conclusion, Mistress clearly was in a heightened level of sexual propensity.

"Hmmmm..... you forgot to offer to worship, Slave...."

Sadly, she was right. The evening had gotten away from us.

I quickly made amends, burrowing under the covers to make sure Mistress's clean shaven folds received the full attention they deserved.

I clearly deserve a punishment for my negligence, don't you think?

Happy Birthday To Our Senior Correspondent!

I could not help but note (with a reminder from the intrusively obsessive "people" at Facebook) that today is our Senior Correspondent's Birthday.  While we've not heard so much recently on these pages, she seems as feisty as ever, apparently getting into all sorts of trouble down in the hills of the Carolinas. What other part of the world would put the word "Gamecocks" across the ample chests of their cheerleaders, as I observed on TV only last night.

As an example, Donna sent me some email correspondence that was intended for one person, but was mistakenly sent to our WC. The subject was some on-line shopping she was recently doing on The Stockroom website. The headline on the email was "Did you see that giant black penis?"

I suspect that got the WC's attention, since he is fully committed in his belief that no one has a "gianter" penis that his notorious special occasion cock.

Donna, Molly and Mick send hopes that for your birthday you get the giantist black penis of them all!

Meanwhile, Mistress and Slave have been enjoying a rather laid back weekend here at the UCTMW World HQ. It's not like chilling last weekend at our SW hideaway, but it has also been nice to get into a gentler domestic rhythm now that summer is behind us.

Last night I had the pleasure of enjoying my alma mater beat up on a traditional rival on TV, while sipping a glass of wine and massaging and sucking on Mistress's lovely feet and toes.

It's a shame there's not a section set aside for toe sucking at the stadium. I mean even Jesus was into foot washing, wasn't he?

Whack-a-Cock

In my role as IT Manager of UCTMW World Enterprises I was recently called into service.

"Slave.... my laptop needs help!"

Mistress has one of those oh so slender Apple laptops. Cute. Comfy to carry. But it's memory capacity is less than robust. Every now and then it rebels under the weight of "too much stuff" (not unlike our attic) and the apps she needs to use refuse to open.  It then falls upon her loyal Slave to find things to "trash",  just like I did recently in the non virtual world when we "downsized".

Except in this case, instead of old Life magazines and high school logo sweat shirts, I had to pry into Mistress's laptop's nooks and crannies and find apps and files that were old, moldy and no longer needed, then consign them to the trash.

That's when I started finding all those photos of the WC's special occasion cock, in various states of "anger" or repose.

"Hmmmm..... I thought we already got rid of these, Mistress....."

"I swear I went through my I-photos and deleted them .... 4 or 5 of each....."

It seems that cock shots replicate like lemmings once they take up residence on a laptop.

Of course, this went back to the days when Mistress and the WC traded more than pithy snark in the comments section. And to be fair to the WC, I also found stuffed into Mistress's hard drive any number of photos of Mistress's clean shaven folds, with or without hitachi attached, which she must have tossed off in the WC's direction as a sort of kinky reciprocity.

I think those even made Mistress blush a bit when I pointed them out before sliding them into the trash file.

So those of you who think you've diligently purged all the smut from your laptop or PDA, before passing it onto a son, daughter or pal, think again.

Old cock shots don't die. They don't even fade away. They lurk forever in some crevice in your hard drive, ready to spring to life when you least expect it. (Cue the theme music from "Jaws").

The only real remedy may be an industrial strength trash compacter.

Or your nearby river.

Maybe my next career should be X-rated computer cleaner.

I bet I could get one heck of an hourly rate.