Cropping Dodged

Mistress and Slave have been enjoying our few days away "con much gusto".

After our wake-up sex rituals here in our hideaway on Friday morning, we spent some time just vegging out, reading books, checking in with work issues. Then at around 10 am we headed up to the ski mountain, where the bright SW sun was shining on about 8 inches of fluffy new snow.

This is where Slave got in trouble.  I forgot to remind Mistress to grab her helmet and gloves from the back seat, requiring a trip back to our car in the parking lot, and delaying our first run. Slave got a little pissy when this faux pas was discovered, and Mistress ended up slogging her way back to the car herself to retrieve the missing items.

She was not happy.

Have you ever tried slogging through parking lots in ski boots?

In retrospect, that is what  slaves are for. I should have insisted on doing this task myself.

And you can imagine that Mistress was none too happy with me after that slog when we finally were able to hit the slopes.

Fortunately, chatting with some friends we encountered, and the soothing sunshine after what seemed like months of River City gloom, soon lifted the mood and we had a wonderful ski day.

Nonetheless, when we got home I knew there would be a price to pay for my pissy-ness.

That's where the crop was dodged.

As we settled into bed for a nap, Mistress confessed:

"You deserve to be punished, Slave.. but I'm too tired right now...."

After our nap, Mistress did allow me to worship.  But I was denied the chance to take my own pleasure, as I should have been  considering my impertinence, don't you think?

Then it was time for Mistress to primp for a local charity event, with cute pre-decorated Christmas trees on sale to benefit local non-profits.  Mistress slithered into a new pair of her "peek-a-boo" tights. Coupled with some black cowboy boots and a short skirt, Mistress turned her self into a guy magnet, and certainly yanked all of her Slave's strings.

At the event, Mistress enjoyed some attention from a well known local artist, as well as an Italian restauranteur.

"The first thing he asked me was 'are you married?' Slave...."

"Did you tell him, yes, but I have permission, Mistress?"

She just gave me that 'raised eyebrow' look.  We may hit his restaurant tonight, if only for the gluten free pizza he was touting to Mistress.

By the time we got home we were a little too tired for any hanky panky.   But Mistress did sleep in those sexy tights, just to tease her slave.

I'm hoping that my orgasm embargo has been lifted by this morning.

Back in our Hideaway

Mistress and Slave made it to our little SW hideaway late yesterday afternoon. It's a long travel day, caught up in the ugly world of 21st Century air travel, but once we arrived at our destination the sun was out the temperature was moderate and we quickly shed some of the angst that builds up in the gloom and year end machinations of River City life.

Our little adobe house was in good shape, though one could tell that Mistress's sister had moved a few things around during a recent visit with her husband.

One thing that caught my eye was how orderly our closet was - had the lady who keeps an eye on it while we were gone done some reorganizing?  When I saw my cowboy boots lined up so nicely I did a double take at the accessory sticking out of one.

You may recall that over the summer, slave got into some hot water when I was asked to retrieve our riding crop at a moment when Mistress wanted to put it to its proper use.

And no, we weren't going riding.

Well, now we knew exactly where it was.

"Mistress, do you think Julie (our caretaker) put that riding crop there?"

"No, Slave. I did that the last time we were here. That way it won't get 'lost' again...."

"Do you think your sister saw it.... I wonder what she thought?"

"Oh.... If she noticed it, I doubt she'd think much of it.... she's not wired that way...."

Well I'm not so sure. And maybe she'd think that it was something that her brother-in-law uses on her sister.

Little does she know who wields the crop in this family! (Other than on switch days).

Heading West

Mistress and Slave have schlepped to the local airport and are waiting at our gate for flights south, then west to our SW hideaway. It's the perfect remedy for the gloom that has settled over River City for the last several weeks. We're counting on some sunshine and snow and a few early turns as the local ski hill opens for the season.

Yesterday Mistress was a very courteous hostess for a lunch gathering at our home for some of my clients. But afterwards, she had mischief on her mind: a pre-getaway appointment for some high energy sexual hijinks with her lover, J.

"He's got to pick his son up at school around 4:30, slave, so I'll be home after that."

Sure enough, Mistress was home when I returned from work, and gave me a brief summary of her late afternoon.

"It was 2 hours of crazy sex, slave....."

"So what did you do, Mistress?"

"Oh the usual, Slave.... me on the side of the bed, legs up. Me riding his cock. Him on top. The full gamut of usual stuff."

Mistress even allowed her slave to worship, hiking down her black tights to give Slave a taste of all those flavors and juices.

What more can a slave ask.... charming hostess one minute, then wanton slut/Mistress the next.

I've got it all.

UCTMW Chief IT Officer Called Into Action

The nest was finally emptied late Sunday afternoon, after a busy but pleasant Thanksgiving weekend. Mistress and Slave had to put a lid their sexual antics over the four day weekend, using music on our bedroom radio, and vocal self-restraint to not disturb our cute Co-Ed with haunting images of their parents actually having sex. 

She slept in late in Sunday, so hopefully did not hear the buzz emitting from beneath our comforter of a certain  power tool, as Mistress bucked and moaned to two very compelling cums before Slave was permitted to take his own pleasure from her clean shaven folds.

It was not until after our daughter headed back to campus on Sunday afternoon that Mistress noticed some problems that called for the services of the UCTMW Chief IT Officer.  Both technical conundrums arose from the obsession that Apple has to enslave us all to their technology by making all of our devices interact, so that  the information collected on or received by one will be regurgitated onto all the others, without the stupid consumer ever asking.

Examples:

"Slave, I downloaded that new operating system onto my desk top computer, and now my text messages are showing up on the screen.  That's not good......"

No, that's not good at all. Our daughters sometimes use that computer, on a table in our living room. The last thing they may want to see is a text from a certain "Mistress" enquiring about her "Slave's" cock cage.... or commenting on the hotness of his morning worship.

And I often use that computer too.

"What about texts with J, Slave..... a Mistress is entitled to some privacy when exchanging lascivious messages....."

No, it wouldn't be good for our daughters  her Slave to observe those types of salty exchanges between the loving mother/wife and her lover, or any of her "backburner" suitors, for that matter.

As Slave was fiddling with the preferences and settings on her computer to solve the problem, Mistress noticed a new and unanticpated problem on the screen of our TV, where we were planning to watch a Netflix movie. To facilitate TV viewing of streaming video services we had bought one of those Apple TV devices. It's a clever little device that allows our larger screened TV to project what we had previously watched via computer screen.

But the good people at Apple had elected to use as a "screen saver" when no content is screening a selection of photos from my "photo-stream". You know, the photos I take on my I-phone from time to time, which I might post on facebook, twitter, or......oops....... this blog."

"We've got another IT problem here, Slave. I keep seeing photos of my naked ass and other body parts. And there's one of you in your cock cage....."

I immediately thought how that would look to our daughters, or maybe my sister who will be visiting over the holidays.

Obviously, I had another assignment in my "Chief IT Officer" role.

It took me a while, but I did stumble onto the way to deactivate Mistress's "messages" feed on her table top computer.  And while we watched some TV last night, I used commercial breaks to delete those smutty images from my "photo stream" hopefully that will work too.... as long as I remember to keep on deleting everytime I snap a naughty image of Mistress for your amusement.

A Chief IT Officers duties never end.