Downton Domme

Sunday night Mistress and I spent the evening at home, fireplace roaring. We whipped up some pasta Alfredo and a salad and then settled down in front of the TV for the launch of the final season of one of Mistress's long time favorite shows: Downton Abby.

It's been a long five years since the Crawley clan began their odyssey across two decades of the decline of the English aristocracy. And Slave has a sorry history of making snarky comments at the "plight" of a family forced to suffer the indignity of being short a footman or two when serving a betwixt courses consomme to  dinner guests like "Shrimpy" and his ill tempered wife. Or warding off the sexual antics of some low level Turkish envoy who found his way into one of their daughter's "chambers".

Mistress gave me strict instructions as we suffered through the introductory countdown to the first new episode: "slave I don't want to hear you making snide comments once the show starts!"

"I guess this is where a good ball gag could come in handy, Mistress."

"Maybe I should have put that on my Christmas list, slave....."

Aspiring to be an obedient slave, I did my best  to stifle my snark. I suppose part of it is my Irish cultural affinities. My namesake here on this blog is no accident. My favorite character on Downton is the  former chauffeur with Irish Republican sympathies who bedded the youngest daughter and, once they were forced to marry, was reluctantly allowed to spend evenings upstairs. Although I think the Butler always counted the silver when said former chauffeur dined with the family.

Once the episode ended, and slave was allowed to express some views about what had transpired, our conversation shifted to how the series might end:

"Do you think they'll have to lay off the staff and  sell off the house and all those ancestral paintings and tea services, Mistress?"

"That seems to be where it's heading, slave."

But then I had a better idea.

"Lady Mary with that riding crop and in those boots was kind of hot, Mistress... Now that she seems to be settling into spinster-hood, maybe she can embrace her inner Domme and open a dungeon in the basement to bring in some extra cash!"

Mistress seemed open minded to the notion. And when you think of it, 'Lady' Mary does have that sort of haughty, no fool tolerance quality that could make for a good Domme. And all those Brit twits suitors who seem to flutter around her could certainly use a good  pegging to get their pathetic little lives back in order and make them productive members of society once their trust funds run out. Maybe those costume signers can design an historically accurate strap-on for  Lady Mary to deploy on some groveling Lord or Duke before the series concludes. Then your local PBS affiliate could  use genuine replicas as premiums for their next fund raising drive.

I wonder if it's too late to get this story idea to the guy who writes all this clap trap? And can I get some royalties. At least enough to invest in a comfortable ball gag for the remaining episodes.

In Her Dreams

Mistress and slave have fallen into a bit of a groove here in the SW, which can make blogging a little challenging.  How many times do our readers want to here about more sex, more skiing, more sunshine, more beautiful sunsets. Lather. Rinse. Repeat.

I did break out Mistress's reserve hitachi yesterday morning to give Mistress a change-up from her slave's devoted tongue. So that's something.

But there was one thing kind of amusing to break the repetitive cycle.  Mistress mentioned it when she woke up Sunday morning:

"I dreamed I was having sex with Mike (our unproductive Western Correspondent), Slave.  And (our youngest daughter) caught us."

I laughed, but seeing some blogging material, asked for some more details --

"Where was this Mistress?"

"In my old bedroom, at my mother's house...."

Hmmm.  I am wondering if the Dowager Domme got a look at Mike's special occasion cock?  Or if Mike got a look at her kinky shoe collection?

"And what did (our daughter) say about all this?"

"I told her that you knew about it and thought it was OK.  And that Mike was the guy I used to text with a few years back.  She was always curious about that.  I told her that Mike was just a friend of me and her father's.... after that she seemed cool with it."

It's good to know our daughter, now off to Europe for yet another adventure,  is so understanding....

"So what sort of sex were you having with Mike?"

"I can't remember much about that ... just regular sex I guess."

Mike, if you're still paying attention, how was it for you?

Happy New Year From Molly and Mick

As  the sun set here on 2015 at our little high desert hideaway,  Mistress and her devoted slave send Happy New Year greetings to all of our friends, devotees and lurkers!

Our own New Year's Eve celebration was pretty laid back - luscious wake up sex, skiing in bright SW sunshine, a little apres ski nap, worship for Mistress, and then a quiet dinner for two at one of Mistress's favorite restaurants, where she could special order a crisp gluten free pizza. I think she also enjoys the attention of the flirtatious Italian owner, with a very bushy moustache, who always gives her a big hug after guiding her to our table.

We always try to be back in bed together before the clock strikes midnight, and (barely) achieved our objective last night.

There is no place like being quietly snuggled in Mistress's arms when the new year arrives!

We hope all of you enjoyed 2015 as much as we did, and will have even more fun in 2016!

Snow Day

Mistress and slave did a full day on the slopes Tuesday. With the sun out and most of the mountain open, there was plenty of  terrain to tax our flatlander legs.

So when the snow clouds rolled in Tuesday night, and we woke to a cloud bank concealing our dawn mountain views, we took the course of least resistance.

"Would it kill us to take a day off, Mistress?"

"Count me in, Slave...."

So our day was spent lolling about, a fire blazing through the day in our little kiva hearth. We both did a little work, some reading, and of course, plenty of sex.

There was your bracing morning wake up sex, featuring Mistress requiring her slave to insert his "device", priming her cock for a dawn cock ride.

Then, after all of that lolling, there was a lengthy interval back in our bed, for round two.  A much needed nap followed, before the sun peeked out for a blazing sunset.

Sure we will be back on the mountain today, but who can complain about an unscheduled snow day.