"Simone" and "Sam" have been forced to go on the Lam, after some sloppy security work exposed them to their potential "enemies". Fortunately, they've found help through the SBPP.
("Sex Bloggers Protection Program"). Follow their adventures here until its safe for them to resume their prior alter-egos.

Monday, February 28, 2011

When a Treat Comes Before a Trick.

Before I tell the tale of our switch day adventures here at our undisclosed location, I want to point you to two particularly amusing blogs that popped up this morning.

First,  Mystress has gotten into the spirit of boot week, with some lovely selections that will surely make our Senior Correspondent Donna very happy to see.

And 'Nilla well, she was a very bad girl again today. She has a story entitled “Mistress” that seems inspired by Mick’s steel cock cage and Molly’s peek-a-boo tights. If only my office door locked the way the one in her story does…. And they must also have much better sound proofing in that office tower than in mine!

Now, where were we….

Mistress was a bit on edge about what our Switch Day might entail. After all, with no kids around, and a whole little hideaway to exploit, the sky (or at least the vigas) was / were the limits.

And the night before, as she and the WC had a rambling nighty night conversation, the subject of Mistress’s tender nipples, came up.

“We do have some clothes pins here M, but I’m never going to tell him where they are!”

I slid out of bed, opened a desk drawer and pulled out some fierce nipple clamps acquired several months back (I think SFP suggested them) and did some “brandishing”, which seemed to send shivers through my brave little Molly.

So, flash forward now to Sunday morning.

We had read the blogs. We had agreed not to rush up the mountain at our normal time, giving us plenty of time for our switch-uals.

Mistress was at her wheedling best though. She began kissing and fondling. And, well, Slave is weak…. I guess that’s why I am the slave.

“Suck it Mistress.”

“My, aren’t you getting all bossy.”

“It is switch day, Mistress…. Would you prefer the ropes and nipple clamps?”

Not surprisingly, she was soon doing some mighty fine sucking. And ball cupping, and stroking with those lovely fingers until my cock was a very demanding rod that now had its own agenda for the morning.

I pulled her up, positioned her over me.

She was more than amply ready to slide down onto me, and moaned with a certain satisfaction as I filled her.

Mistress knows how to ride cock.

And I enjoy the opportunity to observe her face, eyes scrunched tight as she focuses on her own pleasure… seemingly far away.

She came once, then again, and I think a third time as she rode me, her fingers reaching back to fondle my balls, getting me oh so close.

But I knew that her body had reached a limit when she collapsed onto me, exhausted from all that riding. I rolled her over and took her then, knowing that I might shortchange our readers expecting something more extravagant from our Switch Day.

But sometimes a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do.

When we were both sated, there was still time for some R & R before our ski day began. We lay in bed for a while reading. I even stepped outside in my long navy robe to see what pre-spring attention our little garden might need.

And when I realized that the sun was full out, making the 40 degree temperature quite tolerable, well….the little light bulb went off in Slave’s dim brain.

Who said Switch Day was over just because Slave and Mistress had some AM cums under their belt?

But I will concede I was a little devious as the story line unfolded.

I stuck my head back into our bedroom (there is a door that opens onto our patio from the bedroom), where Mistress was lolling in bed, thinking smugly that she had dodged a bullet, and gotten 3 or 4 orgasms in the bargain.

“Hey…. Why don’t you put on a pair of boots and come out here. It’s nice and I’m sure our readers will expect some hot photo in the am.”

She gave me that funny, quizical look, but elected to indulge me.

“What should I wear, Slave?”

“Just the boots, Mistress….”


But she did not question my request, and soon was stepping out into the sun, all pink and nakers but for the black boots she selected.

That’s when I showed her the white rope I had pulled out.

“They’ll be expecting something kinky, Mistress.”

She did not resist as I pulled her hands in front of her, bound her wrists, leaving a lengthy “tail” to lead her by over to our picnic table.

“What are you doing, Slave….”

“Just a nice pose, Mistress….”

She ended up pulled over the table, pressed against a blue bath towel ( didn’t want those nipples to acquire a splinter from our rustic table…. That would have been a punishable offense). I tied the rope off so she was going nowhere.

And then Mistress began to squirm and bitch a bit.

“But Slave…. What if someone sees me?”

You see our little adobe house is set back from a road…. Maybe about 30 yards or so. And there is a low adobe wall that contains our patio, blocking most of the view. But at this time of day, the road is fairly busy as skiers head up the mountain.

“Oh, why would anyone look this way, Mistress…. And the cars aren’t really high enough for a passenger to get an eyeful”.

We were both looking toward the road. And just at that very moment, the bus that hauls skiers from town to the mountain passed by. A bus with windows elevated much higher than a car’s passenger compartment.


“Let’s hope they were checking our the mountains, Mistress, and not us.”

I could imagine the potential entry in our little weekly paper’s semi-comic “police blotter”: “report by bus passenger of naked woman tied to picnic table along Ski Valley Rd. Uncertain of address.”

This sighting made Mistress squirm a bit, testing her bonds, so to speak. But she was still going nowhere.

“Can we get on with this Slave….”

I retrieved my camera from inside, letting her languish a bit.

“It’s getting cold out here Slave….”, is how I was greeted. That’s when I realized that this could be a whole lot more fun than a photo op.

I snapped my shots, and of course, Mistress had the right of approval. This one passed her discerning muster.

But then I excused myself again.

“Where are you going….. just untie me, please.”

Huffy. Very huffy.

“In a moment, Mistress.”

I crept back inside the house, and retrieved the power tool, where it still was lying next to the bed, following her date with the WC on Saturday afternoon.

Luckily the extension cord was ample once it was plugged into an outdoor outlet. And Mistress could not turn around well enough to see her surprise.

I pressed it against her lovely fragrant parts.

“What is that Slave?”

She was clearly confused. But I answered her question when I thumbed the switch on.

“Ohhhh….. my……”

I was standing behind her, and she clearly was enjoying the powerful vibrations, spreading her legs as best she could to give it more space to press home. And her ass had a wanton squirm that was priceless.

But it would be wrong to spoil her, wouldn’t it?

So, as my left hand pressed the Hitachi home, my right hand began a nice firm spanking of her so helplessly exposed ass. It took on a nice rosy glow almost immediately.

“That hurts slave…. The cold…. Makes it really sting.”

But that did not distract her from having one nice moaning climax as she writhed against the picnic table, and another one quickly after that, despite my continued spanking.

That surely is an efficient tool.

By now it seemed I had wrung Mistress dry of her naughty attitude, her haughty smugness having been reduced to whimpering little slut, who was getting cold.

So I released her. She stood quickly, glancing at the cars passing on the highway and hustling back into the house.

Later, we clicked into our skis up on the mountain, and Mistress was looking particularly fetching in her tight black pants and Turquoise helmet and jacket.

‘Do you think some little girl will say, ‘mommy is that the lady we saw naked and tied up on the ride up the mountain.”

She seemed to blush just a tad.

“I don’t think they’d recognize me in this get-up, Slave.”

No, probably not.

Sunday, February 27, 2011

Mistress's grooming Tutorial.... and our final "Boot Week" edition

On Saturday morning, we were lounging in bed, sipping the lattes I had whipped up, and mustering the strength for some muy caliente morning sex before sliding into our ski wear. Mistress noted that several of our readers had recently posted descriptions of their personal “down under” grooming techniques.

“Maybe I should give my perspective on this Slave.”

“You should, Mistress.”

I’m always looking for additional content here at UCTMW. So, before I began my ritual morning worship, Mistress asked me to pass the laptop, and this is what she wrote for you:

“So, it has been one-year since I have gone to the hairless pussy thing. Frankly, I had never thought about it much. Except for the fact that I have a very full head of hair, I am not a hairy person.

You may recall that a little over a year ago I briefly saw a guy (aka, the Starter Dom). He requested that I go hairless. Mick endeavored to shave me and kind of did a marginal job. WC recommended a wax…so I went for it…full wax …. and have not looked back.

Have noted that both SFP and Aisha have written about their techniques for  hair removal. Sp in their spirit, I am throwing in my now “expert” experiences after one year. Understand that when I do something, I do it all the way. So for Molly Collins, I like it smooth daily without one hair to view.

Molly’s tips:

1)    Waxing once for starters is great. I have no patience for partial regrowth to then go wax again. Those short stubby hairs are ugly and itch.
2)    I shave each day. This involves all parts every day.
3)    SFP, I do not use a mirror. I feel my way.
4)    I do know that I have to catch the strays while moisturizing out of the shower.
5)    Mick LOVES me bare. He is a happy man.

Hard to understand why I kept hair there for so long. 


Yes, this Slave is a happy man. And I think I do a better job with my worship duties when I have a “clean slate” to work on.

Yesterday the sun was out for our endeavors on the slopes. We were up and out early, and enjoyed our time alone on the mountain. I shouldn’t whine about our surly teens, but there is something exhilarating about a day on the trails without hearing the endless litany of complaints, as in, “this is boring”, “I’m cold”, “my feet are sore”, yadda yadda.

For a change it was just Molly and Mick, under bright skies, with relatively empty trails winding before us. 


And when we hit our quota of runs for the day, there is nothing better than returning to a quiet little hideaway, with no one to raise a surly eyebrow as we retreat to our Chambers, for a little “rest”.

The difference yesterday was that Mistress had an opportunity to reconnect with our WC for a little de-briefing.

It had been about two weeks since they had a chance for more than a short conversation.  So there was plenty of pent up demand at both ends of this particular conference call.

And when, after our nap, the text message chime went off, and Mistress mentioned that M wanted her to call, like a good Slave, I found an excuse to make myself scarce.

“Maybe I will go check the post office box, Mistress.”

Mistress protested that I need not slide out of the warm bed, but I had a sense that she was grateful for the privacy.

And sure enough, not long after I climbed into the car for the short drive to our little post office, I got a text from Mistress.  “date with WC, Slave. Then sex with you afterward.”

I smiled to myself. I was happy to be her closing act of the afternoon.

When I got home about 15 minutes later, I brewed another coffee, and sat down at my laptop to take care of some work emails. But I would be less than truthful if I did not note my amusement over the little wanton moans and whimpers that were emerging from the closed door of our bedroom.

This is a cozy house.  But like a good slave, I turned on the radio to give Mistress a bit more privacy. 

A bit later, I was paged.

“Ready for you now, Slave.”

And she was, all warm and toasty, and certainly very damp from her exertions.

“How many, Mistress?”

“Just two, Slave….”

 She had that smug little contented smile on her face. If there had only been two, they certainly ahd been good ones.

And I’m pretty sure she had a couple more before I was done with her.  And I was grateful to M for providing the foreplay on this particular afternoon.  It’s nice to have him back in the rotation. And I kind of enjoy my role as the “Closer”.

While my “pitch count” maybe somewhat little limited, it should help keep me preserve my “cock strength” and lengthen my career. I could become the Mariano Rivera of sex bloggers this way.

(My apologies to readers not into silly baseball clich├ęs, but the season is almost upon us.)

As we rested a bit afterwards, I had to ask another question.

“Did M get off too, Mistress….”

“Yes, Slave. He said it’s only the second time since he got out of the hospital.”

Wow. This from Mr. Three-a-day. If not more.

“Wow…. He really was in a bad way. But it’s good to hear he is on the mend.”

“He did say that one nurse was always interested in helping him when it was time to pee….”

“See… I knew  the special occasion cock would get some special attention when he was laid up.”

After we went out to a charming historic inn for some live music, performed by a musician with whom we have become close over the years. And mistress was required to fend off some 20 something skier who apparently was out looking for cougar action.

Once again, as I was getting us drinks, Mistress found herself with this “stallion” plopping down next to her, wanting to know if a man was sharing the love seat with her. And if, not, well, why not him?

She shooed this one away.  Not nearly as interesting as Phillipe.

“Too young and too boring, Slave.”

The WC and Mistress were in touch my text through the evening, and had another chance to talk as I lay in bed next to her, reading a book. But when I offered her a little more worship, she demurred.

“I’m good, Slave….”

Yes I do think she had her not inconsiderable appetites  sated yesterday.

Sooo…. Boot week is over today, but I thought we would share a few more shots… call this the "Men of UCTMW" Boot Special.

First, a shot of Bill, our Director of Security, International.  I’m wondering if there is a place in those boots to hide a small but deadly knife.

And  then there is your humble Executive Editor, fresh from yellowing the lingering snow.

As for this last shot, I apologize for the blurry resolution. Of course, we had asked our Western Correspondent to submit  an appropriate image for this week’s theme, but, surprise, surprise, he missed his deadline.

Fortunately, we did receive an updated report this week from the PI we had deployed out west to debunk the WC’s bogus Worker’s Comp claim arising from the infamous “frozen cock” incident.

As you may recall, he claimed a lengthy period of recuperation was required. As you can see from this photo, taken surreptitiously, from our investigator’s belt buckle cam, M’s alleged “recuperation” must have included some time at a ski resort. But at least he kept his boots on.

Saturday, February 26, 2011

Boot Scooting to a Latin Beat

Today’s title was going to be “Shaking off the Rust” – in reference not only to our day on the mountain, enjoying the snow that had fallen since our last ski day here on New Year’s Eve, but also to our getting back in a lovely and frisky sexual groove after a few hectic weeks back in River City.

But just like in the real world of big boy journalism, events some times get in the way. No, there were not regime change riots here in this cute little town on the edge of the Sangre de Christo mountains. But we did have a fun evening and met a philosopher / construction worker / grandfather called Phillipe ( we can call him Phil) who we need to share with you.

But before we get to him, how about a brief summary of our day.

Still adjusting to the time shift, I was up very early, working on my homework, and Mistress was up surprisingly early too. So as the sun was just beginning to peak over the mountains I found myself under the sheets, sliding Mistress’s lovely black undies aside to lavish her with attention as she read the blog.

But when she put the computer aside, she was no longer interested in my work-a-day mouth.

“I need the power tool this morning, Slave….”

“You mean you don’t just want me to fuck you?”

I was standing up as I said this, and it quickly became apparent that I was more than ready to provide that service too.

“Oh my, Slave…. I see you are prepared to deliver, but my cock will just have to wait.”

And wait it did, as I pulled our power tool out for her, untangled the extension cord as she waited impatiently, and then put it to good use.

She seemed very pleased with my efforts in guiding it home, having one of those moaning and writhing cums it induces so efficiently.

Only then was I allowed to deploy my less powerful but very needy personal tool. The wait was definitely worth it.

Soon we were up, I fixed Mistress some scrambled eggs to go with one of those chocolate muffins, and we headed up the mountain.

The snow was firm and fun, and I had a chance to loosen (or is it tighten?) up those mogul muscles by the end of the day. And of course there was some time for sitting by a fire to warm the toes and fingers, providing yet another boot shot.

Back home by mid-afternoon there was what we now think of as the best time of a ski day – Mistress took a warm bath, I joined her in the shower, then we both slid into bed for a nap with plans for the evening but no schedule set.

We snoozed a while, woke around 5:30, and then Mistress got a text from our WC. He had some time to talk on his drive home, and Mistress was eager to catch up with him.

Since his trip to the hospital last week, they’ve not been in their normal communications groove. I know she misses that voice, so I excused myself to the other room and watched the evening news as they chatted a while.

But about 20 minutes later, I got my page.

“Why don’t you get in here and fuck me now, Slave.”

I was happy to follow her orders.

Now, let’s flash forward to our evening. We did dinner at a local pizza joint. I shared Mistress’s spelt crust pie with goat cheese and mushrooms. (Yeah, I know, not very macho, but we all know who wears the pants in this family).

Then we headed just down the road to the local radio station, that has now tricked out it’s studio with a full bar, restaurant, and performance space.

Very clever. Very cool, with a crowd that was diverse in any which way you can think, setting aside former defense secretaries. Oldsters, kids, same sex couples, etc.

The live music was by a Cuban band from the state’s big city. Acoustic instruments, seductive latin beat. I’m putting a link here to the band’s web site so you can hear for yourself. In the upper left hand corner are some audio links.Savor

We found a small table in the back, with a half empty bud light sitting on it. It seemed abandoned, so Mistress sat as I sauntered over to the bar for drinks. White wine for Mistress. Bushmill’s on the rocks for her devoted Slave.

When I got back to “our” table, I found Mistress chatting animatedly with a guy who turned out to be Phillipe.

(Later Mistress said that when he came back from the dance floor for his beer, she said “I hope you don’t mind if we sat here, he responded ‘We? I only see one very sexy lady here.”)

He seemed about my age (turned out to be a bit younger), full head of white hair, robust build, un-tucked turquoise shirt, opened to just navel north, brown leather “village people” vest completing the look.

Phil was here to dance with the lovely ladies who come to such places in this town. There’s a local song that goes with that too.The Girl Just Loves to Dance.

And in between his trips to the dance floor as the night progressed he shared a bit of his history and wisdom, as well as some music from his harp – oh yeah, Phil plays a mean blues harp too, has played with Loggins and Messina before they were… errr…. Loggins and Messina. But that’s another story.

Phil’s a single dad. Son is 27. Grew up in East LA. The son is in the music business. Just signed his band with a big label.

"I raised him on Brian Adams".

Now there's a name I hadn't heard in some time. But maybe it took.

The son’s mom died of a drug OD when the kid was 2. That’s when Phil took over.

And the son has returned the favor, sort of, by giving Phil 6 grandkids.

“Six…. Wow…. He’s a busy man,” I say.

“Yeah, with six different mothers. He hasn’t married any of them. I keep telling him…. Wear the helmet…. But does he listen to me?”

Apparently not.  Phil is concerned that if the son does make it big, there will be a whole lot of women looking for child support.

Phil has had a busy life. Has run restaurants, sold insurance, but he’s settled here in this magical town for the last 5 years, working construction.

With his unsubtle prompting, (“get with the program white boy”), Phil soon had Molly and Mick out on the dance floor too, swaying to “Besame Mucho”. But we certainly did not have Phil’s liquid moves as he took the hand of several woman, most much younger than him, and wepet them off their feet.

Between dances, we adjourned to our table and listened to Phil’s life story.

I wish I had a court reporter to share some of Phil’s wit and wisdom. But at the core of it all had something to do with the four keys to making a woman happy, which, as they flowed out in his colorful vernacular, had the ring of truth earned through a life of experience.

I’m not sure I can remember them all, so Molly may have to add some detail:

1. Hostess with the Most-iss. When your woman says she wants to entertain, let her do it the way she wants, and only ask “how can I help”.
2. Disciplinarian- when your wife tells the kids “just wait until your father comes home”, you better back her up, and be the enforcer she needs you to be. Otherwise she will be out looking for a real man to help her.
3. Holding time – sometimes your woman just needs to be held, comforted, cozied. Don’t ask questions, just do it.
4. Lady / Whore. Your woman wants to be treated like a lady in front of others, but like a whore in the bedroom. If she gets dressed up for a night on the town, the last thing you want to do is berate her by asking “who the hell are you dressing up to impress?” It’s you, idiot.

Of course, this Slave had no problem saying, “Molly would never get that cross-examination from me”, on this last point.

Simple rules, but maybe we all make our lives way too complicated.

Phil kept saying he had to go. He was planning on playing his harp with a local rock band at another bar up the street. But he lingered longer than he had planned, clearly charmed by the lovely Molly.

I gave him my card, in case he wanted to get in touch. Told him we were in the local phone book. He’s the type of guy you don’t meet in River City.

Or in the blog-o-sphere.

And he did a nice job of taking Molly’s hand and kissing it ever so softly before he finally took his leave.

Mistress admitted she was charmed too.

"He's a very intriguing man, Slave."

And we took one more spin around the dance floor before taking our own leave, into a night filled with beautiful stars.

Can you tell we like it here?

Friday, February 25, 2011

Dispatch from Our Undisclosed Location

Sun does a lot for our dispositions. Yesterday morning, you saw that gray, River City sky through our windscreen. Today, check out the bright azure high desert sky as we drove from the airport north to our little hideaway yesterday afternoon.

Things had been chaotic at work for both of us this week. I was up late working Wednesday night, so by the time I got to bed, both of us were pretty weary and passed on our normal bed time activities. And we were out to the airport by 5:50 am, so no morning sex either.

I know, we are not holding up our end of the sex blogger bargain.  But bear with us….

The sunny 3 hour drive, a stop for a late lunch / early dinner at a favorite place along the way, and monitoring the developments back at the World HQ by way of comment / banter from our Western Correspondent, Senior Correspondent and wily Production Assistant got us into a lighter and more relaxed  mood.

It’s reassuring to know that UCTMW is now beginning to write itself. I can just toss out a few deviant themes or comments, and our creative staff can riff on them for hours, taking them in all sorts of crazy directions. Who would have expected Dick Cheney to make a cameo appearance. And I am hoping the unlucky Guido was an independent contractor, so I don’t have to worry about his worker’s comp claims too.

In fact, Bill played such an imaginative role in yesterday’s hijinks that he is hereby designated Director of Security for UCTMW, Worldwide.

Donna, I hope this does not go to his head, and  he starts practicing his water boarding techniques on you.

There was a quick stop at the local organic market for provisions – somehow chocolate gluten free muffins made it into the cart – and by 4:30 we were in our drive, those beautiful mountains behind us, snow covered and lit by that glorious “magic hour” sun.


Instant blood pressure de-escalation.

There was not much to unpack, and some kinky catching up to do. But first, Mistress arranged a photo shoot for her boots, to give Donna a little more boot envy.

Of course I have some boots here too.  One thing that I find appealing about the privacy here is that when I have a hankering  to take a leak, it’s quite convenient and oh so green for me to step outside to take care of business. Mistress caught me at one of those moments, shortly before one of our beautiful lipstick sunsets. 

As Frank Zappa once sung...."watch out where the huskies go, and don't you eat that yellow snow."

But once the photography was done, it was time to slip between the sheets. Mistress did her post for you, and I napped a bit. It had been a long day. I heard some little text message chimes from Mistress’s I – phone as I drifted off.

“The WC Slave…. I think he’s concerned that I might actually go down to the Cantina for some action…. He says I should just break out the Hitachi.”

M does keep a close tabs on Mistress.

After a suitable rest,  and with a pink twilight shining through our bedroom window, I was finally ready for action. Fortunately, Mistress had yet to have her demand satisfied by an alternative provider.

“Are you finally ready to put your cock where your mouth is, Slave.”


In fact I was ready to put both my mouth and my cock where they can serve their highest and best use.

“Well, go put in your device (my handy dandy aneros), I need a particularly hard cock to ride today, Slave….”

I slid out of bed, shed my shirt, and lubed up the little fellow, sliding it home. It has a certain immediate effect.

In bed, I offered to worship Mistress, and she was agreeable. And she made me work her good and long, with lips tongue and fingers before she crashed up against a nice little starter cum.

My preparatory  work done, I slid up next to her. She felt my cock. It was in an anticipatory stage, needed a bit more attention. But Mistress was not going to accommodate.

“Make it harder for me Slave….”

I did not hesitate, using my fingers and the sensual stimulation her warm and writhing body provided to set about my task. It certainly helped when her nicely manicured fingers cupped my balls, gently taunting them with the tips of her nails.

And at some point she seemed to take over --- she does that as you might expect—until her soft grip on my cock had me a little too close to the edge. Suddenly, I  was quite aware that it had been almost 36 hours since our Wednesday morning action.

“Ahhh…. You may want to fuck me now, Mistress…. Or lose the chance.”

“That close, are we Slave?”

She laughed at my plight, then slid on top of me. She was definitely going to take me for that ride she promised.

And it was a memorable one. Mistress worked me long and hard, building her self up to an initial introductory explosion, with two more to follow , with increasing intensity, moaning her passion, before finally crashing down on me. Her cheeks were wet from her tears, remnants of the morning’s mascara application streaking her beautiful face.

Then I was allowed to take her from above. As horny as I was with the pent-up demand, the higher altitude here always requires me to pace myself a bit, so there was not fast and efficient come for me.  I worked it too, varying the pace, and Mistress seemed to fall voer the edge at least one more time before I hit my own wall.

“Mistress, may I come”, came roaring out of me, and, luckily, Mistress gave her immediate and very satisfying consent.

Then we rested a bit, perusing the blogs.  No place to go or time to be there. It doesn’t get better than that….

We were both reading Ashley and Me, touted earlier this week by ‘Nilla. Hilarious stuff. Though we wondered whether this was really a clever PR person actually engaged by Ashley Madison to pump up curiosity about their product.  Either way, it’s a fun and entertaining read.

I did have Mistress pose for one more fetching pose in her boots and sexy black panties. I figured the WC and Bill owed a bonus after all that extra effort yesterday.

Today we will be loading up our skis, looking forward to a day of sunshine and powder. 

We just hope the rest of the staff has a more  productive day than we will. Someone has to keep this media empire running while I keep the CEO happy in other ways.

Thursday, February 24, 2011

From the Desk of Our CEO

Mick and I have just arrived for our offsite strategic meeting. The Mountains enable us to think clearly as we carve the path for the future of the enterprise. Some of you may not know know, but I am an organizational psychologist. As such, I often analyze the behavior of our workforce.

I have noted some troubling developments. There seems to be a hostile relationship that has developed between our southern and western correspondents. It is true that I am submissive to the WC, therefore he is always correct. While this  does demonstrate a lack of professionalism on my part, I simply cannot help myself. I have been seduced by the special nature of our relationship.

Having said that, I hold a tremendous amount of respect for the great writing put forth by both Bill and Donna. I especially am grateful that Bill has deemed me "hot." This is by far a more flattering descriptor than "smart," "powerful" or "important." These are the sorts of words that I live for.

In terms of Mick, while he is my submissive, he clearly seems to take charge, order around other employees and stir the pot. He does not seem to be able to control what has become erratic, but predictable behavior. I was heartened that our caretaker had left my riding crop on the bed -- Mick awaits his punishment.

As for me, it has been 24 hours since our last sex. Mick is tired at the moment. The WC has not been able to perform for close to ten days. I am thinking that the cantina up the street may be my next stop -- unless one of these two red-blooded American employees can rise to the occasion.


Taking These Boots on the Road....

Molly and Mick will be up and out the door early this morning. Heading West. We hope to have more lurid details for you later today, but it may not be until morning.  In the meantime, check out Ms. Marie, who yesterday posted a lovely tour of her dungeon and rolled out the welcome mat for our WC and our bewitching if reckless CEO for that safety training update they clearly need.

Looks like it would be snug, but I think both could be accommodated. I am thinking front to front suspended from the ceiling, with nothing to separate them but some diabolical chastity devices.

I am sure that would focus their attention on protecting UCTMW Enterprises from excessive Worker's Comp claims.

Yesterday our Senior Correspondent, Donna, shared some lovely boots she found that she thinks would look nice on the CEO, budget be damned.

And as a bonus shot, here is the booted Molly, in our hotel suite over the weekend.  She didn't have them on too much longer.

Have a great day, and we will be back later!

Wednesday, February 23, 2011

Boots of Spanish Leather

Today’s theme music…..courtesy of Nanci Griffith and Bob Dylan."Boots of Spanish Leather"

Mistress and her Slave do spend a lot of time out West…. In fact we are headed there tomorrow morning… solo…. For a long weekend of skiing and doing what we do when the kids are far away.

All that time in the Mountain Time Zone means we have acquired some lovely cowboy boots. Mistress has picked out the three pairs I have. And of course she has acquired several pairs of her own. They look a lot hotter on her than on me….do you think it's the unshaved leg thing?

I suppose we should put them to the test and try having sex in them this weekend to put an exclamation point on boot week!

It may seem that the boots have gotten on the way of sexcapades this week. Actually, its been a very busy work schedule that have impaired us a bit. Monday night, Mistress was out late at a rather dreary business dinner. By the time she got home she was bone tired and only ready to crash. And of course I was understanding, though I did want to hear about her evening.

“Did anyone flirt with you, Mistress?”

He snorted, in her very feminine and sexy way.

“No, Slave… it was a pretty dull group.”

Then yesterday morning, Mistress had an early call, and we had to be out the door by 7:30 am.

“Sorry, Slave…. But no sex this morning. Not enough time.”

Fortunately, I was able to drive with her, so I could avoid time in my cage. There’s nothing worse than cage time when it’s been a whole 24 hours or so since the last engagement. (Yeah, I know, Tammy and others out there, I’m a very spoiled Slave.)

Mistress did have a chance to stop by the office before lunch yesterday for a little personal attention. She had crushed velvet pants on, and ankle boots (damn, forgot to snap a photo), so there was a little more disrobing than normal before she assumed her throne and let me have at her. And she must have been a tad horny herself, as I remember her hips rising up off the share to meet my greedy mouth as her legs wrapped themselves around my neck and she came for me.

She gave me a little pat on the crotch as she was restoring her polished business look, “getting a little horny, Slave?”

“Uhh, yes, Mistress.”

She wiped my mouth a bit with her fingers.

“Got some lipstick there, Slave…”

“It may just be your sweet nectar, Mistress.”

We left the office around 5 pm. I was planning dinner of grilled Salmon and roasted potatoes. And Surly teen #2 had an interview at the house at 7:30 for a trip she may be taking next school year. But I was determined to end our “fast”, which by now was pushing 36 hours or so.

I must have seemed a little pathetic as I suggested that we quickly disrobe and get down to business. But Mistress was merciful, and indulged me.

First, I burrowed under the sheets, making sure that my lips and tongue showed her my gratitude. And then Mistress returned the favor, using her velvety lips to assure that my desperate cock met her standards.

Then she pushed me back, and straddled me.

“I think I’ll take it for a ride, Slave….”

“It’s ready to be ridden, Mistress….”

Ah, yes. And by the time we were done, there was just enough time to grill that Salmon.

During the interview that occurred later, our daughter was asked questions about her home life – to make sure she would be compatible with a family selected to host her next year.

“So, how would you describe your parents…. Quiet and reserved, or outgoing and adventurous?”

“Definitely quiet and reserved.”


By the way, things have not been so quiet in the comments section these last few days. It seems that our Western Correspondent M must be rallying from his health crisis, by the tone of his increasingly outrageous demands for corporate advancement. My theory is that one never gets a big promotion when out on sick leave. And before he has a personal interview with the CEO, who of course will make the final call on any re-shuffling of corporate titles.

So cool your jets and get yourself healthy and back to work, M.

And I’ve enjoyed the loyal responses from our new Senior Correspondent, Donna, who knows how to spout the company line. That woman has a future here at UCTMW Enterprises!

In particular, M was grousing about the temerity of a lowly Chief Safety Officer suggesting some job safety re-training for the CEO and our Western Correspondent, with the help of Ms. Marie. But keep in mind that my prime directive is to assure the profitability of UCTMW. That means making sure our key employees live to write another day, and also keeping a lid on health insurance and workers’ comp premiums.

Reckless behavior, whether in a branch office or in the executive suite here at our World HQ is sure to compromise our corporate mission.

And, let’s be honest, wouldn’t some time spent down in Ms. Marie’s dungeon, chained to one of her utilitarian furnishings, with that little electric shock collar tightly gripping the special occasion cock, help re-focus M on doing his job and doing it safely?

And wouldn’t a nice week of tight restraints, corporal punishment and orgasm denial in the hands of a professional remind our CEO that she can’t ride a bike and have sex chat with our WC at the same time?

Monday, February 21, 2011

These Boots are Made for.....

First, we need to link you to some theme music…..Boots (check out the boots in the video).

The initial shot was on the fly this afternoon at my office. The weather was a challenge, a cold soaking rain, but Mistress stopped by for some worship before she headed to a dinner engagement. I made sure I got the “one boot on, one boot off” shot to share with you.

Then there is this lovely boot shot from our  down river blog colleague, Aisha. She has a great story that goes with it, and here is the link.  I do find the laces appealing.

Our Southern correspondent, Donna, sent us some photos she selected as part of our boot week extavaganza, which are definitely enticing. Here’s one of them.


And one more shot from her husband Bill. He clearly opts for utility, rather than style. You have to respect that in a man.

Now, as a point of personal privilege, your humble slave will now don his hat as the hard working HR and Risk Manager of UCTMW Enterprises, LLC. (If you did not read yesterday's comments, make sure you scroll back to see the buzz saw of whining from the WC that I stirred up yesterday with my gentle reminders about our sensible corporate procedures here at UCTMW).

I know there has been some push back from our hard (and or not so hard) working Associates about what they perceive as draconian policies designed to cover the corporate ass at the expense of loosey goosey lifestyle choices they choose to make. But let me fill you in on the disturbing facts that gave rise to yesterday’s memorandum.

On Saturday, Mistress shared some concerns she had about our Western Correspondent.

“He says he disconnected his IV’s and announced he was ‘checking out’”.

“Sounds a little crazy, Mistress….a very Hunter Thompson-ish move...and I’m sure some of those nurses felt short changed….”

“Then he says he went home and tried to ride his bike…. He almost crashed….”

“My guess is he forgot to zip up too, Mistress….”, risking a frozen cock relapse.

So you can see the basis for my concern. A correspondent gone rogue, still under the influence of prescription pain killers, trying to peddle off into literary history.

But the story doesn’t end there.

Mistress, Slave, and the two surly teens drove back from Chicago yesterday morning. When we got home, it was my mission to do the grocery shopping for an overly ambitious dinner party we were hosting for my family here commencing at 6 pm.

Mistress was off on a bike ride to care for that lovely body.

But when I got home, what did I hear?

“M called my on my ride, Slave…. And when I tried to answer, well … I had a crash….  I had Trouble getting out of my shoe clips.”

I inspected her carefully for damage. Fortunately, she was wearing her helmet, and there were no obvious scrapes or bruises. I was not looking forward to licking loose gravel from her luscious body.

But can you now understand why, as Director of Risk Management, I was concerned about this gross deterioration in safe workplace habits?

I guess I could just go out and buy some “Key Man (or Woman)” Insurance, sit back and wait to cash in as these two act with increasing reckless disregard for their own health and safety. Or I can try to politely remind then of their obligations to their employer and, secondarily, their loved ones.

'Nuff said.  I will forego quoting from Shylock’s speech in the Merchant of Venice.

Kicking Off Boot Week.... But First a Word From HR





In light of the events of the last week, it seemed time to remind all of our staff of policies in place to prevent workplace injuries and assure that medical leave serves it’s proper purpose here at UCTMW.

First, our generous medical leave and group health insurance benefits and policies are in place to assure that our associates are able to perform their jobs within the expected high standards of performance, without compromising their long term health or jeopardizing the health or safety of their fellow associates. Each UCTMW employee is lucky to have 5 fill sick days per year.

If you are unable to perform your job due to personal health concerns, please take advantage of your right to take a sick day, and be sure to visit your health care provider. The failure to immediately seek medical care may only lengthen your inability to perform your job, and exhaust sick days that might be necessary before the end of the year.

If illness or injury should arise from performing your job, and you have timely reported the incident to management with CREDIBLE evidence, UCTMW will also cover the cost of any co-payment or deductible with the proper receipts.

Of course, if you take a sick day, we expect you to call in before your shift begins, so we can make arrangements for a temporary replacement. If you are out for more than 2 consecutive days, we reserve the right to ask for a sworn statement from a licensed medical provider, attesting to your incapacity. Please provide a copy of your provider’s currently effective medical license to demonstrate his credentials, along with a medical release, signed by you so that we can question your provider and obtain copies of your medical chart in case we have further unresolved questions about your condition.

Because UCTMW takes care to make sure that it has no more than 50 employees based at any of its offices within 100 miles of another office, we do not follow the Family and Medical Leave Act. So if you burn up your sick days before returning to work, we have no obligation to return you to work in your former position. But have no fear, we will box up your personal belongings and return them to you, other than perishable items such as lubricants and condiments or edible panties.

Please remember that after taking 2 or more of your sick days, you must provide us 24 hours advance notice of your plans to return to work, as well as a statement from your health care provider releasing you to work with no limitations. We will expect you to hit the ground running after  an extended period of recovery, rest and relaxation. If your medical release is unconvincing, we reserve the right to send you to a physician we select, at your cost, for a return to work physical.

And under some circumstances, our CEO may elect to take matters into her own hands, and conduct a personal physical inspection of your “equipment”.

Finally, a reminder of our “Drug Free Workplace Policies”. A full copy of the policy is is in your manual at tab 321. Just a friendly reminder that the policy not only applies to recreational drugs and alcohol consumed during work hours, or impairing your ability at work. It also applies to prescription medication.

If you are using prescription drugs that may impact your ability to perform your job, please report the nature of your medication to your supervisor immediately. And remember that when using such medication you should not:

• Operate heavy machinery.
• Operate or direct the operation of power tools, no matter the purpose.
• Combine such medication with other mind altering substances unless your shift is done.
• Ride your bicycle to or from work.
• Text message or use your cell phone while riding your bicycle.

Are we clear on all that?

Your compassionate Director of Personnel and Risk Management,

Mick Collins.

Having gotten that out of my system, I can report we are back in River City. Here’s to kicking off Boots Week with a shot of Mistress in teh Chicago Subway over the weekend. And one of Donna’s hubby / master Bill. This shot covers his MIA activities during ass week, and shows off some very stylish combat boots. A Twofer, that I can only describe as gnarly.

We look forward to your comments and contributions.

Have a Presidential Day!

Sunday, February 20, 2011

Sex With Strangers

Figured that headline would grab you. Actually, that’s the name of a play Molly and Mick saw last night here in the Windy City.  The review is here.

What drew our attention was the plot line: young studly sex blogger,  hits it big  with a book based on his blog about sexual encounters with women he meets at bars. He hooks up with  somewhat older female novelist in a charming Michigan Inn, and  introduces her to the world of sex blogging, in between their own sexual encounters.

It may not be Pinter or Mamet, but the play is well acted, funny and entertaining. And of course we could relate to the themes: the high of getting comments from the blogosphere, whether its safe or taboo to write about a partner who is also reading your blog, and the alternative universe that develops when you create an alternative identity to share chunks of your life with strangers out there on the internet.

Afterwards, we lingered for some discussion led by one of the theatre’s creative types and the male actor. There were some  intriguing questions and answers about the characters and the imagery used by the author. Towards the end of the discussion,  Slave was tempted to make known that these strangers among them has a sex blog of their own, and could validate some of the experiences of the play’s characters.   But Mistress gave me a sharp elbow, to stifle my revelations, and I kept in “my place”, as a good Slave should.

Before heading to the theater, we did have a nice final day here in the Windy City. There were some sultry and satisfying sexual activities here in our comfy king bed, both in the morning, before my final session of my meetings here, and then later in the afternoon, after we lunched with Surly teen #2 and walked back down a crowded, sun lit Michigan Ave.

But there will be a sad lost opportunity.

We have to get going early this morning – I have a sister visiting in River City and a big family dinner extravaganza is planned at our house. So we will miss a full blown Switch Day here.

And our room has a great unexpected prop for it: a large pillar, perfect for binding a lovely naked Molly.  I had her pose against it yesterday for you to see.

Imagine her: legs spread wide, arms overhead (just need a hook for the ceiling). A bit of cropping, then the punitive application of the power tool until she is wheedling and whining and begging for my cock.

But alas, no sufficient binding materials. And not enough time before the kids need to be collected and we hit the long road back to River City.

Maybe next trip. When I ask for a reservation I need to remember to request a pillar room.  I wonder how often that happens?

Mistress did have a brief chance to talk to our Western Correspondent yesterday morning. It seems he decided to take his recovery on the road, disconnecting his IV’s. Presumably the MD substituted sufficient meds. Of course we remain worried and think he is a bit insane. But we hope he knows what he is doing and will continue to recover.

Apparently M is the medical equivalent of a “home school-er”. 

Don’t get me started on them.

Donna, our Southern Correspondent, made these worthwhile observations in an email to Molly after we shared that news with her:

“An ill Dom, especially a recently hospitalized Dom, is not an easy being to deal with. They are like caged lions, and that analogy isn't so far off.

I would bet that in addition to leaving the hospital early, WC will also want to stop taking his medications before he should. Let me tell you, when Bill is ill, I am the one who could use some decent drugs. LOL Not that all men aren't overly dramatic about illness, but male Doms? Geez!”

It sounds as if Donna speaks from well learned experience. Maybe we need to get Ms. Marie to take over our WC’s recovery…. M does seem to have a soft (or is it hard) spot for her.

I doubt she would have allowed any disconnection of IV’s!

Donna is also anticipating boot week, which will start tomorrow.

“Can't wait to see the boots! Bill walking around naked in his boots so I could take a few pics just didn't do it for me! Although his attempts at provocative poses did send me into hysterics. Lol”

We are looking forward to some of those shots, Donna!

Saturday, February 19, 2011

All Work. Little Play.

It was a long day here in the Windy City yesterday. Some work meetings and a related dinner kept me engaged from about 7:30 am until after 10 pm.

Mistress was busy too, shepherding one of the teens around the campus of a local University, and then shopping with the teens on Michigan Ave. I am told she was collecting some boot shots for our upcoming Boot Week extravaganza. But I know what you all will want is those shots with Mistress in her boots and little else.

Patience all. You will soon be knee deep in them.

If you checked yesterday’s comments, a brief message of thanks for your thoughts popped up late yesterday afternoon from our Western Correspondent. Mistress reports having a brief conversation with him as she lounged in our hotel room waiting for my return last night.

“He still sounds pretty bad, Slave…. And those pain killers he is taking have him pretty out of it.”

We sort of wish he had stayed a little longer until the nursing staff was done with him… I mean not had their way with hom, so much as sending him on his way after a full recovery.

But it may just mean he needed access to that stash of high priced lubricant. If so, that could be a good sign.

If course, due to our HIPPA obligations to our employees, it would be unlawful for us to share the exact nature of M’s malady. Bu that can lead to some speculation.

Donna, our Southern Correspondent, always up for making trouble, wondered if M had an adverse reaction to a device known as the Andro-Penis, described and shown below in a column by a blogger named Dr. Dick. Here is the link to the full article, which I have excerpted a bit below.

Andro Penis —— $203.06
Dr Dick & Carlos
Dr Dick: “Before Carlos and I begin our discussion, I want to direct your attention to three postings I’ve made concerning penis enlargement. Historical Views On Cock Size, First Penis Enlargement

Methods and Devices and Pumps and Pumps Effects On Penis Size. These three articles will hopefully put today’s discussion in context.”
Carlos: “Yeah, Dr Dick asked me to read through all these columns before I accepted his invitation to join him in reviewing the Andro Penis. I think I should also mention that every since I was a teenager I’ve been embarrassed about the size of my cock. People tell me that I have nothing to be ashamed about, that my cock is average sized, but that never seemed to make my desire for a bigger penis go away.”
Dr Dick: “Yes, I’m afraid it’s precisely men like Carlos, here, that often fall prey to the unscrupulous people who market dubious enlargement devices, pills and creams.”
Carlos: “Yep, that would be me. I’ve been gullible enough to plunk down hard-earned money on a half-dozen enlargement schemes. All have been a disappointment. I guess that’s why I volunteered for this project. I knew it wouldn’t cost me any money, and there was the chance that the Andro Penis, what with all the medical jargon on their site, might actually work.”
Dr Dick: “Indeed, the Andro Penis website is loaded with scientific studies touting its efficacy. There’s even a page on their site filled with doctors and their endorsements of the product. Yet, upon closer inspection, the physician statements are mostly generic. Each speaks of tissue expansion by way of stretching, or ithisca

Carlos: “The Andro Penis is a medical looking apparatus that uses traction to stretch your penis. Ya have to wear on your dick for hours on end, every day, for up to six months. I promised Dr Dick that I would be able to handle this kind of commitment and that I was motivated to give this a try. The enlargement kit comes in a handsome case, which contains the stretching device, loads of extra parts, an instructional DVD, and booklet with written instructions in 27 languages. The booklet also helps you track your progress.”
Dr Dick: “Once I was confident Carlos understood the commitment I turned over the kit and sent him on his way. I told him that I wanted to hear from him at least once a month for an update.”
Carlos: “Ok, so you should know that the Andro Penis is pretty simple to attach to your cock. There’s a ring that fits down around the base of your cock with two metal rods attached to it on either side. These two metal rods attach to another part where your dick-head fits into this kind of noose. And then you just tighten it till there’s the desired tension. I know it sounds super uncomfortable, but it wasn’t that bad. At least it wasn’t at first. And then every seven days you attach these little extenders to the end of each of the metal rods. This is what causes your dick to stretch. The longer you wear the thing and the more extenders you use is supposed to determine how big your unit will get. The kit recommended that I wear the device for nine hours a day. That’s a lot! You can take breaks, if you need to, but the whole idea is to keep up the traction for a total of six months.”
Dr Dick: “That’s precisely the thing I wanted Carlos to report to me about. Would he be able to sustain that kind of commitment and endure that kind of discomfort just to grow his dick bigger?”

Well, it should come as no great surprise that the under-endowed Carlos found that wearing the Andro-Penis was rather painful, inconvenient to wear, and had no lasting effects.

Could this be what led to M’s sudden illness and hospitalization. We think not. From the photos Mistress has seen, M would have use an Andro-Penis of suitable size fabricated at a machine shop specializing in the sort of hydraulic devices used to operate the wing flaps on a 747.

But thank you Donna for the helpful suggestion. I am sure it will lift M’s spirits, if not any of his body parts.

And lest you fear, Slave did get some “action” yesterday morning, before hustling off to his meetings. Mistress’s lush body was so warm and cuddly under the covers of this huge bed, and I made sure I exploited all opportunities when they arose.

And since I have to resume those meetings again this morning, it’s time to shut down the laptop and respond to my prime directive.

Have a great weekend all!