Fiancee Gets the Dowager Domme Once Over

Mistress and slave are speeding as fast as we can across the great vast American heartland .... aka "Trump Country". We are  on our way to the sheltering arms of the Blue State where our SW hideaway is located.  With no obligation to return to an office, we have no scheduled date of return to River City.  Now that's a good feeling!

We did spend Christmas evening with family -- our daughter and her fiancee accompanied us to the Dowager Domme's home where she prepared a filling Holiday feast.  But first there was a certain hazing of the young, innocent fiancee that was required.

You see, the DD has an "interesting" collection of various artifacts collected from around the world to complement her world class collection of kinky shoes and boots. (I was unable to discretely photograph the spikey 4 inch pumps shoes she was wearing for a holiday meal at home, which surely would have impressed our readers).

One "conversation starter" was the penis gourd hanging on her wall..... a souvenir brought back from a trip to New Guinea.  Over hor' dourves, She explained to our slack jawed future son in law that the guys in the tribe she visited wore penis gourds and nothing more during their visit.

"when they danced sometimes their scrotums popped loose!", the DD's more typically submissive husband, and Mistress's stepfather interjected.

Oops.

I tried to be helpful, suggesting that he and his groomsman might want to consider penis gourds in lieu of tuxes for the wedding.

"They're actually hard to come by....it's a long trip to New Guinea.", the DD countered.

"You mean you can't find some on E - Bay? ", slave helpfully rejoined.

As the family chatted on I took my own little tour around the room, noting the very useful antique lariat on the wall.  I didn't ask the DD for the story of how this keepsake was acquired, or how she had put it to good use since then.

Hopefully the fiancee was not taken aback by this pre-dinner chit chat, or the DD's rather peculiar collection of items which could be put to use in more ways than one.

Nothing worse than a runaway groom who must be brought to heel.  Though the DD might consider than a challenge.

Five Reasons It's Harder to Cuckold During the Holidays

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When Cuckold Worlds Collide

Mistress and slave had a rather odd evening with her lover Jay last night, complicated by Mistress's disclosure that her ex-husband (the guy she married back in the 1980's and divorced in 1992 before marrying me) was "stopping by" to drop off something.

Slave was planning an intimate dinner for three, but Mistress said "not to worry". Her Ex (let's call him John) would only be here briefly.  Maybe at 9:30 or 10 pm.

Jay, who was sitting comfortably next to Mistress on our couch, enjoying a pre-dinner beverage, was the first to ask the question....

"So how do you explain who I am....."

"Oh, just a friend who came over for dinner", Mistress scoffed at his concern.....

"But if it's around 10 pm....isn't that gonna seem like I'm sticking around a little too late....."

Of course, Jay did not fully appreciate the irony.

You see, back in the late 80's early 90's, I was the guy who was cuckolding John.

Now, 25 or so years on, here's John stopping by to meet the guy who is cuckolding me.

Of course, it is a tad different.  I'm not sure that John was really clued in and / or turned on by the whole cuckold thing back then.  Heck, back in those early internet days, when there was only "dial up" service via AOL or other primitive providers, I am not sure there was a "cuckold" thing going on.  Dod anyone celebrate the kinky side of a wife "betraying" her husband with his full knowledge back in those "dark ages"?

Who knows, maybe John would have gotten all hot and bothered had he known that Molly had a "side--dish" back in the George H. W. Bush Era.

In any event, the only problem posed by John's "drop by" was that it was getting late.  We had finished dinner, and it was just 9 pm.  Typically, this would have been the time for Mistress and Jay to adjourn to the UCTMW Executive Suite for a little nooky.  Well, typically, a lot of nooky.

To bide the time, slave found some entertainment. We surfed through some old classic TV "Christmas Specials" via You Tube on our not so big screen.... Dino, Frank, Sonny and Cher, Judy Garland.  Lots of schmaltz and kitch.  And why did Frank and Dino wear tuxedos to sing "White Christmas"?

When Cuckold No. One finally arrived, a little past 10 pm, we were sampling Johnny Cash's Christmas Special from the early 1970's. Lots of big hair, pommade and twang going on. Plus the whole Carter family too.  And we were all a little buzzed.

Mistress offered John a glass of wine, and a chance to sit and chat. There we all were, Mistress, the original cuck, their original cuckolder, the current cuck, and the current cuckolder.  And Johnny Cash singing Jerry Lee Lewis singing "Great Balls of Fire" in the background. It was enough to make a kinkster's head swim!

John seemed to accept the notion that Jay was just a "friend".  Fortunately he did not catch Mistress stretched out on the couch, her black-tighted legs stretched across his lap as his hands fondled her thighs, much to slave's pent up frustration.

And while he declined a beverage, and never really sat down, he stayed..... and stayed....chatting with Mistress, cordial (as always) to me, no doubt curious about who this 4th wheel was, sitting on the couch,  trading wise cracks with Mick about the whole Cash/Carter clan singing "Amazing Grace".

It turns out that Jay and John were in the same fraternity! Who-da-thunk?

After a few false starts, finally John left.  One sensed that he sensed the faint hint of sexual tension in the air.  But he could not exactly figure out where it was coming from.

"Well that was . . . different", I commented, shutting off the Cash Family Christmas as John finally headed off into the dark night.

We were all ready for bed.

Mistress and Jay promptly headed upstairs. Before Jay had arrived, I made sure to move all my "necessaries" to our daughter's room . So all I had to do was kiss Mistress good night before she politely shut the door to her now private little love nest.

"Sleep tight, Mistress".

I had a feeling that sleep might be deferred for a while.

Trousergate?

Mistress and slave have wrapped all the Holiday presents and are awaiting the arrival on Friday of our recently engaged daughter and her boyfriend.  Mistress will be touring potential wedding venues with them on Friday afternoon, a tour that slave hopes to avoid.  I'm happy to let others make decisions like where, when and how my little darling will be "given away".  Slaves are meant to be seen, not heard, right?

On the cuckold front, it's reported that Mistress's lover Jay will pay a call on her tomorrow night. One last opportunity for the two love birds to spend some time together before Christmas guests arrive and our journey west on Monday.  Look for an update on their mischief here on Friday morning!

But today's blog is intended as an exploration of a budding controversy across the pond amongst our former colonial rulers concerning the attire of their latest Prime Minister Theresa May. Over here we are confronting the likelihood that our prospective Il Duce is actually a Kremlin Mole, determined to dismantle our civil liberties (other than the right of white folks to pack heat) and round up racial and religious minorities. I;m considering investing in rail car manufacturer stock.

But over in London the buzz is about Theresa May's leather pants, which reputedly cost north of $1000 (including VAT)!  Here is a brief update, among a plethora of accounts available on the web, including ultra-fop Boris Johnson's allusion to lederhosen. Johnson Ridicules May's Leather Pants

It's not the first time that the British Press has obsessed about the PM's attire.  Earlier there was much buzz about her penchant for colorful pricey pumps. So much more on entertaining than speculating about the consequences of a trade war with Europe once that "hard Brexit" is imposed and all the laborers from Poland are sent back across the channel.

And those high black boots as she showed her respects for her Majesty!  The horror! 

Now I for one find it hard to categorize Ms. May as "hot".  But  those boots and black tights would have earned a second glance from me. Plus she clearly has a tad more sex appeal than her most recent female predecessor, who looked better with the helmet on.

But let's be fair folks! Sure $1000 for a pair of pants may seem pricey to the average "Shrimpy" (do people in England really have nick names like that?). But compared to the fop-ish bespoke suits of  high born, Oxford educated  twits like David Cameron, is that too much to pay for the PM's leather breeches?  How much do you think Davey Boy paid for that white tie ensemble?  Or was it a rental?
While it would be nice to see Mrs. May accessorize her leather ensemble with a stiff leather riding crop, at least she seems sartorially competent enough to keep her blouse properly buttoned when in public.  The former PM clearly does know how to use his studs. Let's hope his lovely wife has more aptitude in that area, since I can't think of a better cuckold.

No wonder the "Empire" is a sad, fading part of history!