Male College Student Coerced Into Sex?

It's election day here in River City. Slave has gotten involved in some contentious local ballot issue quarrel, which has Mistress a little less than pleased. And for good reason. It's definitely cut into our private time and adversely impacted my slavish duties to her.  But this too shall pass once tonight's results are in.  

Rest assured that we did get in our wake-up sex yesterday morning, and Mistress also got some pre-dinner worship and a bonus cum after dinner, as we watched Homeland.  So we are keeping up with Terri and Diane over at "A Married Sissy", despite the distractions.

One thing I noticed this morning when I woke was an article in the Huffington Post about hijinks at a certain Midwestern university that I am all too familiar with. Supposedly a sophomore at the University had an academic tutor who somehow persuaded him to have sex with her daughter

A University of Notre Dame student is suing the school and one of its academic coaches, claiming the coach coerced him into having sex with her daughter. 

The academic coach has reportedly been fired amid these allegations, according to the New York Daily News.

The student, an African-American male, claims that his tutor, a white woman, pressured him into having sex with her daughter while "demeaning" him with "racially-charged comments about his sexual prowess and genitalia," according to the lawsuit.

A press release issued Friday by the firm representing the student claimed the unnamed academic coach had a history of arranging sexual encounters with her daughter and other African-American male students and athletes. "When the student repented and began to question the arrangement, he was referred to 'counseling' with a friend of the academic coach, another employee at Notre Dame," the release added.

I suppose this is one of those first world problems that can only be  addressed in our courts. Amazingly, it only gets worse:

The 11-page lawsuit says the student enrolled at Notre Dame in the fall of 2014, and alleges that the coach began providing academic support to the student in the spring of 2015. Immediately, she allegedly initiated a "sexually and racially motived inappropriate and demeaning relationship" and commanded the student to engage in sexual relations with her daughter. The academic coach allegedly provided lodging, condoms and transportation.

Back when I attended this venerable institution -- in the paleolithic pre-co-ed days - the novelty of getting an "academic coach" had not yet been introduced, even for our student athletes. They just got to take an easy geology class, referred to as "Rocks for Jocks" that was closed to the rest of us. 

And the extra perk of getting to have sex with your "academic coach's" daughter would have been unimaginable.  The best one could hope for was that some "towny" might drive by campus, feel some sympathy for you, pick you up and take you into town for a pizza and maybe a make out session in the back of daddy's Studebaker. (Yes, South Bend was the home of the Studebaker. The long dead plant still stands there last time I checked). 

The notion that some uber-dominat tutor  would "command" you to have sex with their horny daughter, and toss in free condoms, lodging and transportation (whether or not a Studebaker) would have been any Domer's wet-dream.

But the Fighting Irish apparently have come a long way. 

Now when your tutor lets you have sex with her daughter,  you lawyer up. 

Lazy, Spooky Saturday.

But for my visit to my aging Mom, and Mistress's simultaneous lunch with her (it's been a while) lover Jay, we had the day to ourselves yesterday.  Our daughter has been working a lot, leaving the nest more empty than not. And after her shift on Saturday, she headed up to her old campus for a sleepover with the boy friend.

"We've got the house to ourselves, slave...."

And we took full advantage.  There was some lazy wake up sex yesterday morning. A bike ride in the afternoon. A nice cozy late afternoon nap, and some worship afterwards.

Around 5:30 pm, we did the short drive to my older daughter's house to witness my grandkids in their cute trick or treat get ups. But I resisted the invitation to join them on their rounds. Been there. Done that.

"That's what parents are for, Mistress....."

Maybe that's bad grand-parenting, but I think our children understand, and appreciate the fact that old Mock and Molly like spending time with themselves.  It could be lots worse, right? Who wants those helicopter grand parents who never go home?

One thing we did not do was dress up in costumes. I suppose we are of the age (slave more so) when Halloween was for kids, not an excuse for adolescents of all ages to dress in some slutty or dorky costumes like our college age kids, and some older friends now do. No, we are old school.  But I suppose if we ever did get persuaded to dress up for some costume party, we could do something like this:

And Mistress would certainly fill out this type of costume nicely:

But, truth be told, we enjoy our private time much more than hanging out with grown ups trying to revisit their childhood trick or treat fantasies.

Back at home, slave whipped up some dinner and we settled into an evening at home, me watching my alma mater eke out another come from behind victory, and Mistress reading her kindle.

She had on some of those sportsy tights - thicker than pantyhose or her typical black tights, but form fitting.  It was a little too tempting for slave when Mistress stretched her feet over my lap, so may hands wandered up her legs, finding the apex of her firm thighs and fondling through the clingy fabric.  It seemed like it only took about 60 seconds before she moaned and bucked with what was likely her 4th cum of the day (at least as far as I knew).

Terri- with October in the books,  you need to focus on setting a better pace for Diane in November or we'll kick your collective asses again!

Back to Back Cage Days

Those of you who have been lobbying for more cage time should pat yourselves on the back today.

It was rainy here yesterday. And cold. So no bike ride to work. Mistress pounced, reminding me that my excuses had run out.

"I do have to go to a public building on the way to work, Mistress.... they may have a metal detector."

But she quickly reminded me that was what my plastic, back up cage is for.  It's a CB 3000 model, and its "moving parts" can tend to pinch and snag pubes, leading to some uncomfy moments beyond having to sit to pee.  But I knew that was no real excuse.

"Yes, Mistress...."

Fortunately, Mistress hasn't required me to decorate my cage, like this one.

As it turned out the pinching was not too distracting, and Mistress popped me loose when I got home.

Today I have to drive to work, even though the rain has stopped. She reminded me of my obligation. before we settled into bed last night.

"Another cage day, slave."

We have a social event after work, that could go on for a while. But I will be home before hand, So I guess the big question is whether I get sprung loose before or afterwards.

Slave Gets a Once Over

The cold and damp descended on River City yesterday. All that rain that fell on our Texas friends has crossed onto the heartland leaving us chilled and sodden.

Of course, there is an upside..... Mistress broke out her black tights after our wake-up sex, taunting me and presumably all red blooded guys she encountered during the day as she made her rounds.

As for me, I dodged cage status for the day because I had an appointment with the dermatologist. And it turned out I was fortunate to go cageless.

This MD was a rather fetching woman of Iranian descent in her 30's, and had a bit of Domme in her.  She had black (seemingly) leather pants tucked into black knee high boots, and a charmingly exotic accent.

On the other hand, slave was told by her nurse / assistant to strip to my undies and slide into one of those thread bare "robes" that ties behind your neck, making this old slave seem rather naked and vulnerable once the Doctor and her assistant returned to the room. She worked her way over my body - back, chest, legs, even toes, identifying a few areas the circled for "further study".  Then she turned to my"groin area".

"If you don't mind could you drop your underwear, Mr. Collins?"

Heck, what choice did I have? She was the expert, and I came for her expertise. (I guess that didn't cum out the way I wanted....).

She gave my ass the once over. Fortunately, Mistress had not used that hard wooden back scratcher on me over the weekend.  Nothing of interest made her poke or probe there.

Then she returned to my front, squatting a bit to get a closer look.

Fortunately, I did not have a hard steel cage to interfere with her examination. Mistress will be happy to know that she did keep her hands to herself, asking me to push my "package" to the right and the left so she could check out those creases at the apex of my thighs.

Fortunately, there was nothing going on down there that seemed out of the ordinary. And I mean that both in terms of skin anomalies and involuntary physical reactions to her close scrutiny.

Since there were a few patches that she wanted to biopsy for safety sake, slave had to sit there for another 40 minutes or so in my skivies as the nurse and my Iranian Domme numbed and carved me, using what looked like a mini paring knife to skin me here and there.

I'm sure somewhere in the kinky blog-o-sphere you can find a fetish involving dermatological skinning as foreplay..... but quite frankly it was much more fun to go home at the end of the day, watch Mistress peal away those black tights to her knees and put my lips and tongue to their highest and best use.