Domme Wife / Sub Hub Get the Showtime Treatment

Mistress and slave had the sort of weekend that comes up this time of year when your local NFL team has been ignominiously eliminated from the play-offs. In other words, it was too cold outside to do anything productive, and there was little to focus our attention on other than sharing mutual warmth under the covers of our bed.

Well, that, and watch otherwise inconsequential football games.

Of course, we did do some boringly responsible things: visiting aging mothers, hanging with my grandkids. etc. But we had polished those items off the "to do" list on Saturday, leaving Sunday to our own pursuits.  Than involved sleeping in and making sure Mistress got to spend some time with her favorite power tool before she emerged to go to her spinning session.

At some point the Dowager Domme stopped by to pick up our daughter for brunch. Knowing I owed our readers a blog, I had my camera ready, but her shoes were pretty tame for a change: just some brown suede boots.  Not kinky enough to risk a surreptitious papparazi moment.

Left alone, there was that rather dull Carolina / Seattle game to entertain us. It was so (seemingly) dull that at half time we returned to our bed for a mid-afternoon nap, and another opportunity for slave to worship Mistress once she had finished her beauty rest.

That left the 2nd game of the day. Slave was happy to see the Donkeys finally eliminate the hated Stillers. Congratulations Mike! Peyton Fucking Manning lives to fight a final death match with Tom Brady. But remember, Mike, it was the Pussycats who softened them up for the kill! Every Matador needs a good Picador to poke holes and start the bleeding!

Monday was a sort of holiday in town. And while both of us went to work, it was easy for slave to slip out early, leaving time for some sundown sex in the UCTMW Executive Suite. A good way to start the work week if there is any good way.

After recovering, slave whipped up some dinner and we settled into watch the new Showtime series Billions, which stars Damien Lewis as a charmingly sleazy hedge fund billionaire, and Paul Giamatti as his Prosecutorial nemesis. It all sounded fairly predictable, until the very first scene popped up:

That's right: It's the son of the late baseball commissioner trussed up  and gagged in his boxers. And it's no kidnapping. Soon a mysterious lady in black highheeled boots looms over him, and proceeds to put her cigarette out on his left nipple.  Ouch.

So from the start you can tell this is not just your ordinary white collar procedural.

But who is the mystery lady? A Pro Domme that this over-caffeinated zealot goes to for therapy? His Secretary, earning some easy overtime hours?

Later you see scenes with the US Attorney, his dark haired wife (played by Maggie Siff) and their cute little kids at home. All pretty domestic and vanilla. And the wife turns out to be a Psychiatrist who, naturally, works for the hedge fund billionaire, setting  up a conflict of interest that will be a source of drama in episodes to come.

It's not until the final frames of Episode I that the show reveals the true nature of the Prosecutor's marriage. Home from a busy day at the office sending crooks to jail,  Giamatti  discovers that the cute little kids are already in bed and Mom is ready to take on her proper role:

Now those are boots worthy of Mistress, or the Dowager Domme.

It's good to see that the female led relationship has broken into the mainstream.

Or at least Pay cable.

Back In River City. . . Argh!

Not much to report here at UCTMW World HQ.

We are back in town after a very pleasant two weeks of empty nesting at our beloved SW hideaway.  It always takes a while to come back to earth here in the heartland.

Adjusting to the time.

Breaking away from the heavenly routine of sex, skiing, napping, more sex....

And it's that time of year when clients and employees expect you to get your head back in the game and do their bidding.

Bummer.

Rest assured that Mistress and slave have made sure to keep certain rituals in tact: I've had to wake Mistress for our morning wake-up sex these last few days.  She hates to break away from mountain time!

And there's been some post-office worship, of course.

Sadly for her, rendezvous with Mistress's side-dishes have been a little hard to organize.

It's said that Jay's foot is in some sort of boot. Which apparently cramps his sexual stylings.

And with our daughter on a rather unpredictable work schedule, it's a little hard for Mistress to know when or whether to invite her side-side dish K to "stop by for lunch."

And of course the weather here in River City this time of year can also make things a little gloomier than normal.

Maybe once we get past the denial stage things will perk up!

Until then.....

Heading Back to The Heartland.

The sun was bright all weekend as Mistress and slave enjoyed the final two days of our glorious Holiday escape. But duty calls. We head home today, most reluctantly. If not, sooner or later the folks we work for might notice that we are missing!

Of course, we did get in some weekend nookie. Sunday morning slave deployed most effectively Mistress's favorite power tool to supplement the more mundane attentions of slave's attentive tongue. The result was what you might expect: a nice shuddering climax for Mistress that primed the pump for further proceedings as the sun rose over the mountain that lurked outside our bedroom window.

Mistress returned the favor by having her slave insert "your device" (the aneros) which always has the effect of making slave's cock particularly insistent when it comes time for Mistress to do a little cock riding.

Awaiting us back in River City seems to be a week of gray gloom, with the first dusting of snow of the season bound to put the locals in a bitchy mood. And of course there is the long depressing hangover the community will be struggling to shed after Saturday night's embarrassing melt-down by the local Pussycats, who once again were not ready for prime time.

Of course we do have some darling daughters and grandkids to catch up with.  That's good right?

But all in all, Mistress and slave seem most content out here in the sunny southwest, where life is laid back, the sun is shining, and a neighbor with a 50 year old tractor named Sam can be enlisted to help unclog a snow buried driveway.

Now if she can only find a cowboy side-dish.

Let It Snow

Mistress and slave have been buried in what seems like about 18 inches of new snow over the last two days here in the high desert.

Of course, there are some benefits in being snowed in.  While we had some work to do on Thursday morning, we worked in a mid-morning "sex break" (as previously reported) and also a post-nap late afternoon two-fer, that involved Mistress doing some rather enthusiastic cock riding to top off her orgasm count for the day. (But who's counting).

Yesterday we could not resist the impulse to drive up to our local ski mountain to enjoy a powder day.  But what was the rush?  we lolled in bed a little longer than usual for some pre-ski delight, before struggling to get our car out of the driveway. Slave is not into shoveling at 7000 ft., but sometimes you have to do what you have to do.

We look forward to the first sun in a few days here today, and some more morning sex before we head back up the mountain.

But before signing off, I wanted to respond to some speculation about the potential plot twist on Downton Abbey: the notion that Lady Mary might save the families struggling estate by selling her services as a Domme to the aristocracy.

Terri over at A Married Sissy asked what an antique strap on might look like. And despite exhaustive research., I must say I came up short.  Certainly the Brit twits of the Victorian era were no strangers to pegging. But the notion of synthetic or plastic faux cocks for rear entry was out fo the question in those days. The best I could come up with were some rather exotic  "rectal dilators" that the cracker jack set and artifact designers for DA could replicate or dust off for Lady Mary's use:

Certainly these could be fitted with an appropriately authentic leather harness for Lady Mary to put to good use.  And then there is the old stand-by  "double header" which could also be adapted to punch up this story line. 

It would certainly be better than implicating Bates in yet another murder of yet another good for nothing.

But Lady Mary probably doesn't need a whole lot of "kit" to play the role of a Domme, does she?  She already has that superior attitude that can put any male, regardless of title or the size of his trust fund, in his place. This photo is a good example:

Can't you imagine what's going on just below where this photo is cropped. No doubt some less than adequately endowed suitor with a fancy title is doing his best to please her with an avid if unskilled tongue. And she's totally unimpressed with his skills. Hopefully by the final episode she can whip a few of those twits into shape!

Terri, I know you and I could do better considering our experience and training! But we could never nail those posh accents.