The WC Pays Off His Gambling Debt

 Here in our Mountain Hideaway the days are moving too fast, and we are already dreading a return to River City on Sunday. We've settled into a nice routine -- morning sex, some reading or work, heading to the ski mountain, then, after a day on those sun drenched slopes, some R & R back here at our cabin, taking in yet another magical sunset. 

Watching the alpenglow engulf the local tribe's sacred mountain in the moments after sunset through our bedroom window, both lying there naked, pressed against one another, is an experience that is too good to put into  written word.

While we were skiing the following dispatch arrived from our Mountain Zone HQ, describing how the WC settled his betting tab with the folks over at All Mine. Sounds as if his "clobber count" was so high that your Managing Editor probably deserves a pass when it comes to paying off this bet, don't you think?

Well Suzanne I got my strapping this morning and you will be happy to know that it hurt like hell!

Here is a little back story about B and I before I tell you guys the ugly details:

We were kinky from the start with me being dominant

I used to spank B all the time and she was my submissive sex toy

We both loved it, and still do

But somewhere along the way she started spanking me as well and she discovered that she liked it (a lot)

So now we are switches I guess, but mostly we just do what ever turns us on at the time

Any way, you should know the B only knows one was to paddle or strap:

LONG AND AS HARD AS SHE CAN!!!!

As expected she was very happy that I lost the bet, even though she was rooting for the Broncos

So this morning when I returned from taking my daughter to school she was sitting in the kitchen grinning like a Cheshire cat

“Do you remember the last time you spanked me?”

  “Yes”, I said

“Do you remember that you stuck an aneros up my ass and wiggled it all around?” 

“Yes”,  I said, seeing where this was going

“Do you remember I said I didn't like it and you said you didn't care?”

  “Uhhh….  Yes, kind of….”, I said

“Do you remember that you spanked me with our leather strap with the wooden handle over your lap?”

 I did.

“Do you remember I said it hurt really bad, and begged you to stop, and you again said you didn't care and that it was supposed to hurt?”

  “Ummmm…. I don't really remember that”,  I said

“Bullshit!”, she said, “go up to the bedroom strip naked and get that strap and your aneros.”

When she arrived she was all business, and told me to get over her lap and she rudely pushed the aneros up my ass and wiggled it around violently for quite some time

She then grabbed the strap and began spanking me just as hard as she could

No warm up, and holy shit it hurt!

I hate to admit it but I was wiggling around a lot and screaming

She must have given me at least 200 strokes

It wasn't quite so bad after the first 100 :)

As she admired her work she seemed quite pleased with her self, pushed me off her lap and retrieved her Hitachi

She told me to suck her nipples and get my cock rock hard while she got her self off a few times with her toy

She informed me in the midst of one of those orgasms that she wanted me to fuck her really hard from behind as soon as she had enough of her beloved Hitachi

Sure enough she soon rolled over and got on her hands and knees with her breasts pressed against the bed

Seeing Her in this submissive position, with her beautiful ass pointed my way roused my dominant urges

I knelt behind her and drove my cock home in one big thrust

“Ouch”,  she screamed… “that really hurts….”

“I don't care”,  I said

The pain soon turned to pleasure and  she was cumming again and again in no time

Of course I couldn't resist a few very hard slaps to her ass as I fucked her:)

Was very Hot!

But I am the WC with a very sore, red and bruised ass!

Of course, WC, the only thing missing here is a photo! If Mistress can share, why can't you. I'm sure B would be happy to accommodate.

Paying Our Obligation

We had another snowy, blustery day here at our local ski mountain. The fresh powder was fun, but the wind and cold had us beating a somewhat earlier retreat from the mountain down to our little cabin, where the sun was shining. The early departure gave us a chance to nap, do a little work, and for Slave to go into town and pick up some provisions.

On the way home, I even had the chance to check in with our Senior Correspondent via phone, and learn that it was Bill's ( our Director of Security) birthday.  Happy Birthday, Bill!

On the drive home, I even stopped to take some photos of our beautiful mountains, with new snow sparkling, and lit by the setting sun. It's those vistas that keep us coming back here.

When I returned home with our supplies I was in for a little treat: Mistress was all decked out in fetching and skimpy blue confection, with matching thong, I had presented to her a few Christmas's ago.

"I figured we had time for a little fun before dinner, Slave...."

In fact, I had the same thing in mind, though I had not expected Mistress to be all decked out for the occasion.

We put away the groceries, and adjourned to our cozy bedroom here, with a view of the mountain, the alpenglow that followed the setting sun just lighting the very top.

"Wouldn't this be a good time to pay your part of the obligation arising from Tim Tebow's fall from grace on Saturday night, Mistress?"

You may recall the bet with our friendly competitors at All Mine. The Pats margin of victory (was it 45-10) far exceeded the 13.5 point spread that Suzanne had suckered the WC into accepting. And we honor our debts here, even when on the Lam.

And there was Molly, all decked out on Patriots Blue!

I affixed the cuffs to her wrists and secured them to our bed.

"Do we really need these, Slave? "

"From personal experience, I know it's easier to take these while you can't squirm away, Mistress."

"How considerate of you...."

I found our resident riding crop and flexed it a bit in my hand.

"So the question is 'how many?' .... I'm thinking the Pats margin of victory, less the point spread...."

I did some mental calculations.....

"That leaves us with 22, Mistress."

"I don't recall anything in that bet that put a number on it Slave!"

Mistress was already squirming in anticipation though.... truth be told, I think she likes this sort of punishment much better than her Slave does.  I mentioned this....

"Maybe it's because I have more padding, Slave...."

Could be. Or maybe she's just a little pain slut, like a few of you out there in the blogworld that we regularly follow.

In any event, she took her medicine well, and I made sure to break up the dosage with occasional forays with probing fingers and hands along those reddening ass cheeks, and between those squirming thighs. 

I noticed during one of these little breaks that the musky perfume of her arousal was permeating the room.

"You reek of sex, Mistress.... I think you like this...."

"Maybe I do, Slave....."

When the appropriate number of strokes had been applied, I took a photo to provide evidence of part of our stakes paid, that I emailed off to Jay and Suzanne.

But now it was time to reward Mistress for her "good sportsmanship".  Fortunately, "Mr. H." (her Hitachi) was already plugged in at bed side.  I kept her tied to the bed, as I pressed the vibrating orb home between those crimson ass cheeks. 

It's always fin to watch Mistress flex and tense all those muscles in her ass and thighs as she works her way to one of those special cums that only Mr. H can deliver. And she took her time, building it to the point where there could be no return. She even asked for permission!  What a good switch-day Slave.

After she'd come down, she told me it was time to fuck her. And I was more than happy to release her wrists  and follow her directions for a long and leisurely time.

Mistress Asks Permission

We woke here a little early Sunday morning, debating whether to load our bikes onto the car and travel north twenty miles for one of our more epic bike trails. But inertia prevailed…. We decided to keep our ride closer to home, and spend the time that would have been spent in the car on more typical Sunday morning  pursuits….

“So we can do switch day now Slave, rather than later….”

 Mistress immediately began to wonder whether her gung ho reminder of my contractual rights  was a good idea, as I reached for our little bag of tricks and pulled out the leather wrist cuffs and their tiny locks.

"Ohhh.  I guess that was stupid of me, Slave...."

Now it was a little chilly outside  here on the cusp of the mountains Sunday morning.  Our high altitude and a front from the north that cleared away the clouds probably had the temperature in the 40s when this conversation was going on, so I decided to spare Mistress an early morning bound “perp walk” out to a convenient outdoors pillar or post.

Instead, I locked her cute little red cuffs on, and tied them off to the corners of our bed, with Mistress on her stomach.

She had worn some semi-transparent undies to bed, and they looked so cute I paused to take a photo….

 I reached for  the riding crop, conveniently placed near the bed, and gave her a few light smacks over her undies before sliding them off and over her lovely feet…. Still in the black socks she had worn to bed for a little extra warmth after our night on the dance floor.

With her bottom suitably exposed, it was time to pick up the crop again. But since she’s been a very good Mistress on this trip, I laid down next to her, rather than stand at the side of the bed, sliding  one hand under her hips to fondle and delight, while the other applied the crop intermittently.  It didn’t take long before Mistress’s ass was rising and falling nicely, switching from side to side, and taking on a nice rosy glow.

Of course, the Hitachi magic wand was also at the ready, and it seemed like a good time to put it to use, switching it on and sliding it between those strong and supple thighs.

“Don’t forget to ask permission, Mistress.”

She worked herself into a lovely frenzy, humping her favorite power tool, while pulling at the ropes that restrained her arms.

:May, I Slave….”

“May you what, Mistress?”

(I can be a tease, can’t I?)

“Come, Slave…. may I please Come?”

(Love that hint of desperation in her voice.)

“Yes, Mistress…. You can come now….”

Given the green flag, she let it rip, building herself to one of those mega-cums that had he sobbing, tears welling in her eyes. 

I felt the pride of a job well done.

But of course by now, the work-a-day cock was more than anxious to joint the fun. I let Mistress recover a bit, then mounted her from behind, sliding into her moist folds gently at first, then with more gusto, until I had Mistress moaning into her pillow for another couple of orgasms.

By the time I released her wrists and turned her over she seemed to have had a full dose of switch day satisfaction, if I do say so myself.

Chain LIghtning

This blog comes with it’s own music, linked here…. Through I had originally intended the song to be that old Allman Brothers tune, Whipping Post.

Ah well….

On Saturday, the college football game in South Bend, Indiana was interrupted not once, but twice, due to the proximity of thunder storms.

Well, on our Sunday switch day here at the UCTMW Mountain Zone Branch office, the same damn thing happened as well, though I think we put our rain delay to better use than the Fighting Irish.

I had planned for some outdoor switchery all along, but when I went outside after making Mistress some coffee I realized that the air was still a little too chilly for all that tender skin.

(Not that a few goose bunks would have killed her, but all that wheedling and whining would have driven me crazy. I suppose I need to acquire a nice gag for suck occasions.)

So  we “settled” for some conventional but very hot wake-up sex, with the understanding that I would have a raincheck for later that day.

As it turned out, that raincheck was very appropriate.

After our bike ride, breakfast, and some time in the sun reading the Times, I suggested that it was time for Mistress to face the music.

There was already a sturdy eye hook screwed into one of the posts that lold up our portal, and soon Mistress found herself with her wrists above her head, those little red cuffs locked in place.  Black ankle cuffs linked together kept her legs restrained.

I stepped inside to retrieve my camera and the riding crop that had been used with such gusto on me….. and that’s when I heard the first rumble of thunder.

“Slave… did you hear that?”

“What. Mistress?” ( I can play dumb with the best of them, just short of Rick Perry).

“Thunder Slave…. you’re not going to do this with lighting in the area, are you?”

Well I don’t necessarily play by the NCAA rule book, but a glance to the North revealed some rather large storm heads billowing over our Mountains and headed our way.

It’s a late “monsoon” season here, after a very dry summer, and the rain is welcome. But this particular storm was stepping on my weekly privileges.

So I was forced to expedite things:  Mistress received a sampler of thwacks on that cute and lush ass, then I deployed the power tool as she “struggled” against her bonds. The ankle bondage made it a little harder for her to spread her legs, and dragged out a bit the inevitable orgasm.

I suppose I shouldn’t have been using a power tool with lightning in the area but it seemed we still had a little margin for error. It wasn’t as if we had to evacuate a stadium full of fans, though I suspect the crowd at ND would have been more entertained by this little show than what they saw there in Saturday.

With a 2^nd orgasm completed (“punishment” for failing to ask permission before the first one), I unhooked Mistress from her post much more quickly than I had planned, and helped her inside to our bed.

Her wrists were reaffixed to a similar eyescrew at the bed, and I proceeded to fuck for a good long time. I mean, what else to do in a rain delay? Drink Gatorade and retape your ankles?

Sex led to a very long mid-afternoon nap, limbs entwined. When we woke up, the sun was back again, and Mistress asked if I would remove her wrist and ankle cuffs.

“Not now, Mistress, I’m not done with you yet…. We were interrupted by the storm, remember?”

She was a good sport, and she went back outside to her lounge chair, still naked, with her writ and ankle cuffs potentially creating tan lines. 

We both read a bit longer, until I thought it was time for a little more fun.

This time Mistress was allowed to remain in place, but with her wrists and ankles bound to the chair, the trusty power tool at the ready.  I figured there could be intermittent cumming and languishing for the rest of the afternoon for her, as I finished the paper at my leisure. I even smeared a little extra sunscreen on my “victim” to last a while.

That’s when I heard another peel of thunder…. Sure enough, a glance to the north should another round of storms approaching….

Once again I had to expedite my “game plan”, using the Hitachi to bring Mistress off two more times as she pulled against her bonds in frustration, with sprinkles beginning to fall just as she finished round two .

I suppose that was foolish of me – using that device even as  it was beginning to rain.  I hope it does not earn me a punishment, or a citation from OSHA.

Switch Day Meets Empty Nest

Before I get into our after action report from a very eventful switch day, I wanted to call attention to and respond to a long comment made by Suffolk.sinner yesterday afternoon.

He seems troubled by our cuckold dynamics here, and can’t understand why if its not ok for this “gander” to play the field, why Mistress should be entitled to her own “indiscretions”.

Suffice it to say that Slave got in trouble when he concealed his extra-marital activities several years back. The deceit opened up a deep wound in our marriage. And as we struggled to work our way back to a trusting relationship, we stumbled into the world of D/s.

I discovered that the idea of turning my sexual freedom to Mistress was not only a way to make her feel more secure, but also a BIG and surprising turn on for me. 

The contract developed from there, as a fun way to formalize things between us.  It’s a little over the top, but I don’t fear that Mistress will take advantage of her rights TOO often.

As for the cuckold thing? I addressed that in an earlier posting that may be worth reviewing if you are curious about our theories on that particular kink. Under Contract to My Wi#1854AD1.

On our bike ride yesterday, Mistress asked me whether I missed the “freedom” she had under our contract. 

“Actually, I haven’t had any problems with it Mistress. No one’s come knocking on my door, making herself available. I don’t think I’m sending off those “available” signals any more…. But I’ll let you know….”

“Would you really, Slave?”

“Sure…. Who needs all that sneaking around stuff.”

Well, enough of all this philosophizing, let’s get back to the sexy stuff….

So here we are, kids flown the coop, and a full set of switch day options available.

It was almost too hard to choose.

After Mistress read the blog, as I worked her into a steamy arousal with my tongue, I made it clear that she would have to work for her orgasms.

“Stopping now, Slave?… you were just getting to the good part….”

I reached into our bedside table, retrieving her red cuffs, locking them on her then linking her hands behind her back.  They match her red nail polish so nicely, don’t you think?

I also attached some black leather cuffs to her ankles.

“What’s nice about these cuffs is that you can wear them around the house through the day, Mistress.”

“Oh…. Really….”

“Maybe even on our bike ride.  I doubt anyone would notice.”

“Oh… Slave…you wouldn’t…. would you?”

I left the question unanswered, helped Mistress to her feet, and guided her down the hall to the now vacant room of a sullen teen.

You may be amused to learn that her room, and bed, are bigger than her parents. She has a queen. We have a double.

But the nicest part about this now unspoken for bed is that it is of the 4 poster type, with very convenient lashing points.

“This would drive her crazy, Slave.”

“True, she usually bars us from her ‘space’ …. But now she’s far away across the pond…. Tough nuggies.”

Soon Mistress found her self spread eagled, face down on the bed.

I let her languish a bit as I went back to our room for a few more tools. A riding crop. My  camera, and the Hitachi too.

Mistress “enjoyed” quite a few strokes from the crop, interrupted by my stroking and probing fingers.

“Your ass is looking quite red, Mistress…. I hope Francois does not mind.”

“Hmmm…. He’s not had any objections to switch day, at least not yet.”

It was about then that I plugged in the Hitachi, sliding it ever so closely to the promised land between Mistress’s spread thighs.

“Ummmm…. Nice … Slave….. but could you move it a little…. Closer….under….”

She was wriggling as best she could, but I was not going to make it easier for her. Instead, I reached for the crop again, trying to match the blows with the rise and fall of her ass as she tried to match her “sweet spot” with the business end of her favorite power tool.

“This is so mean, Slave…. it’s driving be crazy….”

I tried to “help”, wedging it a little more closely to her clean shaven folds, then stepped back, taking a seat on a chair across the room to admire Mistress’s gyrations at my leisure.

She looked over at me, noticing the rigid cock in my hand, as her hips bounced up and down, trying to get the pulsations that eluded her.

“Slave…. what are you doing?”

“Ohh, just enjoying the show, Mistress…. You look so hot over there, all tied up and frustrated, that I could probably just come like this…..”

“You wouldn’t dare…. Would you?”

I don’t think she was sure.  But it didn’t slow her frustrated gyrations, as her hips pounded up and down on the bed, her arms and legs straining against their bindings.

At moments like these, it would be nice if I knew how to operate the video function on that camera. But here is a still photo from my vantage point. (Sorry for the stuffed animal in the background).

“It would seem like a waste, come to think of it, Mistress.”

But Slave is merciful, of only because the tables can so easily be turned here at the UCTMW World HQ.

Soon I was back at her side, taking the Hitachi in hand, and guiding it manually where I knew it would have it’s highest and best use.

And soon thereafter Mistress was quaking and shaking through a primo cum.

When the aftershocks finally subsided, I flipped off the switch, but also noted the error of her ways.

‘You forgot to ask permission, Mistress…. There will be consequences.”

“Just fuck me, Slave….”

So I did, sliding in from behind, pumping into her slowly at first, then with more gusto, bringing her to another cum as she moaned her release into the pillows under her head.

But we were not done just yet.

I released her for a moment, only to flip her over, and re-restrain her, face up this time.

And then I reapplied the Hitachi treatment.

At least she remembered to ask permission the second time around.

The Perfect Storm

Poor Mistress.

It was Switch Day, and she confronted what a perfect storm of confluent events.

The kids were away.

We had missed our last two switch days do to family events.

And my bottom was still reminding me how she had dealt with her Slave the afternoon before.

Slave had some pent up demand to take her in hand, and without the need to “stifle” in deference to prying ears and eyes of our sullen teens, I had a good deal of flexibility.

(unfortunately, the kids were already on the Big Bus heading back from Chicago, so there were some temporal limits on what I might accomplish at her peril…. We’ll save the languishing in bondage and every hour orgasms for a later date).

After we read the paper in bed a bit, and I teased her with my tongue and lips as she read the blog, Mistress knew that her time had come.

She even tried her cute little seduction trick, cuddling with me, exchange romantic kisses as our legs interlocked, probably hoping I would surrender to that little voice from down below my waistline looking for some quick and easy indulgence.

“Sorry, Mistress…. You’re not getting off that easy.”

I locked the red leather cuffs on her wrists, linked them together, then, after assembling some useful supplies, helped her up out of bed.

“We’re going for a little stroll, Mistress….”

Of course, once downstairs she tried to delay the inevitable by making small talk with her cute cats, lounging on the living room furniture.

“Enough with the kitty talk, Mistress….”

I took her by the elbow, and led her to the threshold where a steel hook had been screwed into the woodwork for an earlier occasion such as this.

Soon her wrists were locked tight, over her head, and she began to squirm a bit.

“My arms are going to get stiff like this, Slave…..”

“Ohhh, poor dear…. I’ll try to distract you as best I can….”

And so I did, embracing her from the front, teasing her with my kisses and my questing fingers.

As I dipped a digit between her thighs, I discovered se was already quite sodden and needy.

I know that will surprise you.

But my bottom still had that glow, and It reminded me that at least Mistress deserved a few spanks from her devoted Slave.

I pulled the black silky nightie up , reached around and gave her more than a dozen stern slaps with my palm, making her jerk against the attachment holding her wrists in place, and hop a bit on those well pedicured toes. But of course, she could not escape the punishment she so richly deserved.

Having turned her ass cheeks pink, and knowing that in fact her arms might well be getting stiff, I figured it was time to bring this little drama to and end.

I could see her cunning little smile when I pulled the Hitachi out of my bag of tricks, and plugged it in.

I knew she was thinking ---- “Oh goodie, I’ve gotten off easy and now I get my reward.”

But it didn’t work out exactly that way.

With the Hitachi sitting in ready on a nearby table, I began sucking on Mistress’s easily accessed nipples, making the one on the left nice and firm before I reached into my pocket for one of her least favorite toys …. A clothespin that the WC had prescribed for her some weeks back.

I’m not sure she noticed it until it squeezed down onto her poor little nub,

“Oh…. Damn…..”

She jerked against her wrist bindings in response.

Soon I was working on her other nipple, and then reached into my pocket for the matching clothespin. Symmetry is so appealing.

“I can’t even watch…” she whined, looking away as the other peg found it’s home on her right nipple.

Of course, I knew that she would not tolerate much of this, so I immediately reached for the Hitachi …. Well not immediately…. I had to take this photo first ... for the record.

Mistress moaned in delight (and for the distraction), as I thumbed on her favorite power tool and applied it immediately where she likes it….

Soon she was humping against it, on tip toes to purchase as much leverage as allowed. I enjoyed watching her lovely breasts bounce to and fro with their little wooden accessories as she built herself up to release.

“Remember to ask permission, Mistress….”

Well she did, but I must say it was a little too late …. Murmuring “may I please come, Slave…” into my ear, even as her body shuddered through a rather powerful climax.

As “punishment”, I forced her to endure one more cum before reaching for the clothespins and easing them off her lovely red nubs.

The poor dear.

I eased her cuffs off the hook, and let her rest on our carpeted floor a bit, before sitting on the hassock nearby.

By now my shorts were off.

“I think this would be a good time for Mistress to practice her cock sucking.”

And as she squatted on the floor, her head buried on my lap, wrists still cuffed together, a fan of her dark thick hair covering my thighs, applying herself skillfully to the task at hand, I almost wanted to interrupt her and get my camera to capture that lovely image too.

Almost.

Hiding from the Heat

The unrelenting heat here required some alterations of the normal Sunday game plan at the UCTMW World HQ.

Both of us have missed our daily bike rides. We (and particularly I ) need the exercise. But with the so called “heat index” over 100 degrees all this week,  mid-day or after work riding has been out of the question.

So yesterday morning’s plan was a real aberration: rather than sex with its usual switch twist, it was outside and onto our bikes at about 8:30 am. The air was already getting into super-heated range, but we had it in us for two loops up a rather challenging neighborhood hill.

By the time we got home, and showered off the “glow”, we were ready for some of our more normal Sunday morning activity. But it was just too darn hot for anything complicated.

“Do you mind if I give you a pass on switch day, Mistress….”

“No problem Slave…”

But Mistress did get a special treat. After some oral worship as she read the blog, I reached under the bed for her power tool. Mistress laid back on the sheets, her lovely limbs stretched out towards the corners of the bed, as I deployed it between her well exercised thighs.

Mistress closed her eyes and focused on the powerful vibrating bulb pressed between those moist lips and worked up to a rockin’ cum, her hips rising up off the bed  in her final throes to purchase a little more stimulation.

Then she pushed the Hitachi away.

“Let me taste my cock, Slave…”

Who was I to deny her?

She worked me with those soft, sensual lips until I was begging for permission to fuck her, and kindly relented just as my desperation was getting to code red levels.

Afterwards we did our best to hide from the heat the rest of the morning and afternoon. I stepped outside only long enough to pick up some groceries and to move the sprinklers on our quickly browning lawn.

Meanwhile the sullen teens – who purport to now  be “adults” these days- were whining to their Mother that they were “bored”. (Did we have to remind them that they both had autos at their disposal and a freshly paid allowance in their pockets?)

Fortunately, they found something to do: they went with their grandmother to the movies, leaving us in glorious solitude for a few hot afternoon hours.

We tried to hide our glee as they headed out at around 3:00 pm, and then promptly retired to our chambers.

Nap time.

Sex time.

More nap time.

Pass the Magazine Section time.

Wishing the girls had gone to a double feature.

Yes, it was a  very lazy day hiding from the heat here in River City.

HNT / Date Night

It was a rather hectic work day for both Mistress and her Slave yesterday. And while we were not denied our early morning wake up sex, there was no time for Mistress to stop by for some office worship. Then, after work, we had dinner downtown with a colleague of the Mistress.

So by the time we got home, maybe around 7:30 pm, we were a little tuckered out.

Of course, that did not stop me from taking the opportunity, once Mistress had stripped away the work costume, to fall to my knees and apply my oral skills for her benefit. And take some photos for HNT too.

Mistress had been talking about leaving for work a little earlier today, in order to have a training session via phone with the WC. But there were issues with that … namely teens who want to have cars at home at  their disposal so as to do what sullen teens do…. Whatever that might be on a hot River City Thursday.

But then… she got a text from the WC. His family was stepping out for a while. Would Mistress like to have a little date with him this very evening?

“Do you mind, Slave….”

“Of course not, Mistress…..”

So when the appointed time came, Slave excused himself and camped out downstairs for the next 45 minutes our so. It was a good chance to catch up with Jon Stewart and Colbert via Hulu. 

And soon enough Mistress was paging me to return to her “executive suite”.

Mistress seemed well taken care of, lying on our bed.  Rachel Maddow was on the TV, yammering on.

“I had to keep it on so the girls wouldn’t overhear, Slave.”

“Pretty impressive if you can come with that voice droning on in the background Mistress…. Amazing focus.”

(It’s not that I disagree with her POV, it’s that  endless rapid fire prattle that drives old Mick insane).

She laughed. I turned off the TV.

“So how many, Mistress?”

“”Four or five, Slave….”

“Impressive….”

“So do you want to fuck me now, Slave….”

Hmmm.  I had written that off for the evening. But somehow, all those pheremones unleashed by Molly, her Hitachi and the verbal promptings of the WC had overcome the fatigue.

“Are you really up to it…. It turns out you’ve had a lot of unanticipated action tonight, Mistress….”

“Just go put in your device, Slave” (my little white aneros).

I like it when Mistress gets all bossy like that. And, of course, followed her orders. What else would a good, if pampered house Slave do?

Rainy Day Mistress

We woke here in River city to what seemed like a millennial rain storm. Hours of hard and steady rain, that was preceded by some house rattling thunder. Our plans for an early morning bike ride were put on hold, which gave us a morning to loll in bed, read the paper, and well….do what Molly and Mick do.

I grazed through Mistress’s silken and naked folds as she read the blog, but she seemed a little startled when I pulled away as she closed the laptop and placed it on the bed.

“Huh….”

“Did we forget it’s Switch Day, Mistress?”

“I guess I was hoping you’d forgotten, Slave….”

Hardly.

Mistress soon found herself bound face down on our bed, her arms attached to the corners, her ankles bound together by our leather cuffs.

She was wriggling no where on her own.

I turned on a local public radio station to make sure the sullen teen would not hear any of our shenanigans. Irish music. The lively stuff that matched up well with what the Big Fellow had in mind.

I deployed the feather that ‘Nilla had suggested some months ago. It combined well with the firm slap of my palm on her lovely ass. A little sour to go with the sweet, that had her squirming nicely, the aroma of er arousal soon filling our “executive sweet”.

And then the Hitachi was deployed, slid between the tight confines between her thighs, making her squirm and writhe to accommodate it even though her ankles were still bound together.

I do love watching those ass and thigh muscles flex onvulsively as she builds herself to a lovely climax.

And give her some credit: this time she remembered to ask permission first.

Soon I was releasing her, then flipping her over to accommodate my needy little work-a-day cock.

All in all, it seemed nice that the rain had allowed us to take things at a more leisurely pace.

Soon I was off to visit my cranky Mom, as Mistress worked on some business matters. I got home around 1:30 pm or so, and we were surprised to see our comment count climbing precipitously. It seemed our “staff” was in a huff over their reprimand yesterday, and then there was the Anonymous refuge from Sin’s blog, mocking all of us as a bunch of depraved old farts.

I suppose it might be hard to argue with her/him (other than with respect to Molly of course), but Donna gave her / him a nice chewing out. Her inner Lou Grant came out…. Exactly what us crusty old hardscrabble editors like to see.

Ah, where were we…. Heading for a bike ride, right?

Well we got briefly off schedule at the behest of the WC, who took some time off from collecting kick backs from his trucking companies in his capacity as a Teamster shop steward to suggest to Molly that they have a spontaneous date.

It had been a while, and even though it was Switch Day, I would not be one to stand in the way of their fun.

“Do you mind, Slave…. a little privacy…”

“Of course not, Mistress…”

I took the Time and my laptop, and adjourned to the employee lounge, downstairs. The teen was at the gym, allowing Mistress to fully relax into the moment.

But around 15 minutes later…. Rather short by their standards, she came downstairs, holding my cell phone.

“Slave…. your phone rang… and at a rather inopportune time.”

Oops. Apparently one of my older daughters had called in the midst of Mistress’s passionate throws with the Hitachi in hand and the WC on the phone.

“I hope it did not cause too much inconvenience, Mistress.”

Actually, I was rather amused.

“Well. I was just about there….”

“But you soldiered on….”

“Yes, Slave….”

In fact she still had that nice post-orgasmic flush. And it sounded like the WC got off in full measure too. Indeed, it sound like the special occasion cock had plenty of action yesterday, starting with some “epic” sex with his wife that morning.

How many for you, Mistress?”

“Just one, Slave…. B was on a run, so that’s all the time he had….”

Well at least the WC was doing more on his Sunday than sowing dissent in the ranks here at UCTMW.

And it was nice for Mistress to add a little extra excitement to her rainy day in River City.

Back in the Saddle

Slave got a few days of blogging hiatus, thanks to our Senior Correspondent and Mistress’s own contribution over the weekend, in which she took the opportunity to get a few things off her divine chest.

But that’s not to suggest that our fun went dark here in River City these last few days. No, despite a day spent at our daughter’s college orientation on Friday, Mistress got a reasonable allocation of orgasms these last few days, and Slave can’t complain either.

But since it’s  a work day, and I want to make sure there is timing for some morning “activity” here at the World HQ before we head to work, let me pick up on Sunday morning, our weekly Switch Day.

Mistress and Slave both slept in a little later than normal, and even after I came back to bed with the morning papers, Mistress was otherwise engaged, spending some time finishing a work project on her laptop that had been bugging her all weekend. There was even a brief chat with our WC, as he headed to a Sunday morning golf game.

But when the time came…. Well Mistress found herself with those red leather cuffs locked on tight, on her tummy, her arms spread to the corners of our bed.

Nice and helpless…. Just the way I like her every now and then.

I took a few photos, so there would be something to share with all of you. Then I lazily spread my nakers self across her lovely body. My guess is she could feel the semi-rigid work-a-day cock sliding between her cheeks, as I spread little tender kisses across her neck and slowly worked the muscles in her neck and shoulder with my fingers.

“You’ve been so nice to me lately, Mistress that it would seem cruel to get out the riding crop.”

“”Well that’s good news, Slave….”

Soon I was sliding off her and reaching for the Hitachi Magic wand, tucked under our bed.

I worked it over her lower back, which produced little purrs of delight. But when it ran down the back of her thighs, and to the sole of her foot, the delight turn to shivers and wiggles and squirms, with Mistress trying to evade the vibrating tool.

“That tickles, Slave…”

“It could be worse, Mistress…..”

But I didn’t make it worse…. Like I said, I was a bit of a pushover yesterday. Soon the vibrating ball was sliding up the inside of her thigh, and under her squirming hips….. back to the place where Mistress likes it.

She was squirming more sensually now, and the aroma of her juices teased my nostrils. My cock, like the foolish little robot it has become for her, was getting harder just from that scent, and the sight of her ass and thigh muscles flexing and relaxing, then flexing again, to squeeze a little more “whoopee” from the Hitachi.

As she squirmed, I decided to apply a little “tart” to the “sweet’, and used my free hand to spank that delicious butt, timing my swats to the de-clench of her lusty cycle, which seemed to speed the rhythm of her little dance of debauchery to a snappier beat.  Maybe you can see that little red glow her cheek acquired, even as she was working herself against that little throbbing ball.

“Remember to ask permission, Mistress… or there could be consequences….”

She moaned, her ass rising and falling even faster now, her thighs clinging greedily to the wand as I did my best to hold it in place….

“Can I come now, Slave….”

“Let me hear you say ‘please’….”

She did, and I required that please a few more times, for good measure, before I gave my consent.

She sighed on relief, but then a  funny thing happened…With my consent in the bank, she seemed to back away from the brink, and take her time to work her wake back up to the pinnacle of frustration…. Clenching, relaxing, then clenching those muscles, her thigh muscles flexing, her legs bending up at the knees, toes curling, a frenetic rhythm of motion that was s delight for this humble provocateur to behold.

I did my best to keep up, with my hand firmly gripping the churning tool, trying to maintain contact with her sopping little cunt.

Finally, with a sound that started deep in her chest, and with her muscles straining from calf to shoulders, Mistress roared over the cliff, first for one nifty cum, then, barely missing a beat, she shifted to a higher gear, treating herself to another one before begging me to thumb her favorite toy off.

When she was done, her chest was heaving, and little beads of sweat had broken out on her back.  My tongue lapped them up as I let her catch her breath.

But she wasn’t done.

“Fuck me now, Slave….”

I was anxious to accommodate her, and too lazy to flip her over just yet, so I mounted her from behind….

“Watch for the right hole, Slave….”

Not a problem. We’re keeping that ass virgin for now, but it was easy to finding the correct aperture, and soon I was pumping into Mistress… rough and greedy.

She seemed to take it well, coming at least once more that way,  before I released her wrists and flipped her over… taking my own pleasure… with permission of course.

Now it’s the start of another work week, and the final school week here for our teens here in River City…. and somehow, writing all this out makes me want to head upstairs and get another fix of Mistress before we all put our noses to the grindstone once again.