Mistress and Slave In Transit

While the sherpas ordered up by D from the SBPP did our packing, Mistress and her Slave lingered in bed Saturday morning, huddled under the Yak furs for the last time, and frolicked a bit. Slave lavished attention on those succulent clean shaven folds, and Mistress seemed pleased with the results.... it had been nearly 24 hours since she'd had a suitable cum. After my work was done, Mistress turned her attention (and lips) to my thickening cock, driving me to distraction until she finally consented to my increasingly urgent pleas to allow me to fuck her.

We were in that post orgasm zone, drifting back to sleep, when the lead sherpa knocked on the bed frame.

"The Yaks are packed, Mistress...."

(Note that he had been instructed to use proper terminology. D takes care of all the important details.)

We tossed on some traveling togs, took one last look around the Yurt and began our journey. It was all a little dizzying after that, but D had a staff photographer record  some of the highlights of our long day.

Here are some of the locals, bidding adieu to Mistress and her slave as our party heads the the local airstrip:

Of course, there were deep river canyons to cross:

And once at higher altitude, some brilliant snow fields:

D had a transport plane waiting for us when we finally arrived at the airstrip, and the yaks were loaded on board:

Of course the air plane crew was a little surprised at the cargo, but worked dilligently into the evening to load up all our accumulated detritus:

Finally, we were off:

Fortunately, for Slave.... back here in River City just in time for today's big showdown with that evil NFL team from up river.

We look forward to resuming our original secret identities and reporting to you Monday morning from UCTMW World HQ on Monday morning....

Dispatch from Our SBPP Logistics Specialist

Dear Sam and Simone,

I sincerely hope you are happily settling in with your new lives. Your name choice was wonderful, your sex blog readership is gaining every day, and your yurt is absolutely gorgeous, if I do say so myself.  

The powers that be in the Sex Blogger Protection Program are, in general, pleased with the way things are going. At my evaluation on Friday there was only one large concern, the nature of which I will address later, and a few suggestions for improvement.

I must agree with my employers that I was a bit careless in choosing your relocation zone.  I was remiss in that I neglected to place you in a climate chilly enough that Mistress Simone would feel it necessary to wear black crotch-less pantyhose and high heeled shoes or boots on a daily basis. To address this problem, without requiring a move to another location, the SBPP has arranged for an employment opportunity there in Wherever-The-Heck-It-Is-Istan that requires Mistress Simone wear American style clothing for part of each day. The hope is that it might facilitate more crotch-less hose, more high heels and boots on shoulders, and more lips on pussy action.

In addition, a small extension is being added to your yurt and will be carpeted and furnished to exactly mirror the office of your former life.  In addition to the desk and chair in the office, a blanket as well as aneros devise and strap-on will be placed in the closet. The hope is that you and Mistress Simone might have some up and cuming lip-smacking and exciting bent over the desk moments to share with your readers.

As a reward for your fine blogging, my employers have arranged for a carpenter to build a new bed for the yurt. You and Mistress Simone will need to choose one of the designs below. The first choice is a Murphy style bed that is a regular queen size bed when down and becomes a whipping post complete with chains and handcuffs when in the closed position.

Or you may opt for the style of bed pictured below if Mistress Simone would prefer to concentrate more on Sam’s training.

I will, of course, continue to providing the extravagant supplies and endless array of cooking equipment requested by Francois, and have also been instructed to arrange for massages with Didi, upon request. 

Of course everything can’t always be sunshine and yak curd. No, there is a problem that threatens to put a dark mark on my record, and it involves the WC.

As you know, the WC spent a night in the Yak Shack last week. What you may not know is that his actions have created quite a tense situation between the SBPP and the Local #2431, Yak Herders Union. According to documents delivered to the home office, the WC was quite busily involved in Hand to Gland Combat (also known as masturbation) on and off all through the night he spent in the Yak Shack.  His actions resulted in the female yaks (as well as a few of the males) becoming overly stimulated by the sights and sounds associated with that particular activity. They are no longer content with what is offered by the bull yaks. The Local #2431 demands restitution and is insisting that the WC return and face charges. He has refused to return and has vowed never to smell another yak as long as he lives.

The yaks are not happy.

It is a dire situation, still unfolding.

Please let me know how I might be of further service to you.

Sincerely,

D, Logistics Specialist SBPP

D, you don't know how much we appreciate all the help you've provided. maybe someday it will be safe for us to resume our prior lives back in River City, with only one secret identity. But until then.... we feel safe and well cared for in the hands of you, B and the rest of the SBPP.  We home you will consider visiting us soon. And we won't make you stay in the Yak shed like WC.  If you think accommodations are too tight in the your, there is this nie local hotel to consider.  

Simone and Sam

Mistress Enjoys Her Day in the Yurt

Our first day here in Whatever-it-Stan turned out to be more fulfilling for Mistress than one might have expected.

Of course, there were our typical morning rituals... I wrote then posted the blog using the satellite phone technology in a band-aid tin that D had provided us. Thank God I remembered to unpack it from the pouches strapped to my Camel.  Mistress had a few laughs as I worshiped and she read,  then I made sure she had a few cums too.

D had arranged for her to interview a prospective staff chef named Francois, an ex-pat who like us was  on the lam from some messing complications back in Paris.

"It's a Saturday, Slave... so I think I'll just wear this nightgown... do you think that's OK?"

It was a form fitting number in a purple velvet that barely covered her lush ass, which was peaking out as she arranged the pillows on the richly colored Persian carpet the fills the living area of our new mountain hideaway.

"What about underwear, Mistress?"

"You know I never wear underwear with a nightie, Slave...."

"I'm sure this Francois will be impressed."

I was then off to the market, a few miles over some low rising hills on a yak conveniently provided for such tasks by D our logistics co-ordinator.

As I was selecting some fruits and vegetables from local vendors, I received an unexpected text message... the number was unfamiliar.... hmmmm.... a shopping list from this Francois.

Apparently he must have met with Mistress's approval.

By mid-afternoon I finally steered my yak back to our Yurt, tucked away in this hidden valley.

As I pulled the tent flap open, the yurt interior lit by the afternoon sun filtering through it's canvas walls, I heard what sounded like muttering in a foreign language.... was that Swedish, or French.

There was Mistress, looking rather disheveled if I must say so, lounging on those pillows, as Francois muttered to her while simultaneously working on some computer equipment.  Then she acknowledged my arrival.

"Francois is quite well rounded, Slave.... not only does he cook, but he's setting up our network here properly, so we can finally back stuff up...."

"Excellent, Mistress...."

After I unpacked the groceries, and made Francois some coffee, lightened with some rather odd flavored goat milk that was in what passes for a fridge here, Francois bid us adieu, though I suspect we will be seeing him regularly in the weeks to come.

"So how did the interview go, Mistress..."

"Oh, I think he'll work out, Slave...."

"You mean as a chef?"

"I think that's just the tip of the iceberg."

Hmmm.... as Mistress and Slave adjourned to our bed chamber, I got more of the story.

"It was interesting.... at what minute he's working on the computer system... the next thing you know it's into this bed and well...."

"How many, Mistress?"

"I'd say three slave....he likes that reverse cowgirl position...."

"And did he make you beg, Mistress?"

"Of course, Slave.... that seems to be very important to him...."

Of course all this got me into a frisky mood too.

"Would you like some worship from your Slave now, Mistress...."

"Why not.... see if you can taste anything different..."

It seemed that I could.... though it might have been just the change in climate and all that proximity to the camels.

After Mistress had her fill of Slave's tongue and licks, she elected to ride my cock for a while, adding an additional cum or two to the day's prodigious total.

I think we can get used to roughing it for a while.