Mistress's Robo-Cock?

Dear Mistress,

Because of our spontaneous middle of the night activities, it seemed I slept a little later than normal this morning. And you have asked me to wake you up early for pleasuring because of a breakfast appointment on your busy schedule. So today’s homework is a little abbreviated. It does not do justice to a very eventful day for us in and out of bed. So I may take the option available to the bloviators in Congress to “revise and extend” my remarks later today, or over the weekend.

You suggested the title of today’s entry – “Robo-Cock” – when you giggled and teased me as my penis stiffened again last nigh,t during some discussion we were having about Vanilla Mom’s blog. You liked her recent story “Under Contract” and we wondered if she had noticed the title of our blog before she wrote it.  In any event, we both were flattered by her recent comment.

But the part of the discussion that got me going again concerned the potential Dom you had “interviewed”  yesterday afternoon. Sounds like he was interviewing you as much as you were interviewing him. And that’s how it should be. The issue was “titles”. If your exploration proceeded, what would he expect you to call him? Sir, Master? Or did it matter? What would he call you? Slave? Pet?

The question is not yet resolved, but I must confess the thought of it all, and our playful discussion of it did begin to harden me, even though we had made love  vigorously and with great satisfaction only an hour or so earlier.

You noted that about a year ago, when we spent too much time away from one another, and  were struggling to get beyond my own felony offense, I was more than happy with one performance a day. Two at most. You said I would whine that a guy in his late 50’s was doing pretty well “getting it up” once a day.

So here we are, in the same town and my “problem” is that I am turned on or on-able at the drop of a sly remark, the taste and fragrance of the back of your neck, or the gentle caress of your fingers against my shaft as I head to work, suited up for battle.

Of course there is no one answer to my accelerating addiction to you in recent months. You have always got me going, Mistress, going back to the evening we met more than 23 years ago, when I spotted that early-20’s hotty in her stylish short dress, who lit up that rubber chicken political dinner. I could not tear my eyes off you once I noticed you at the next table. Thankfully, you decided to talk to me, because the late 30’s lawyer I was then was too intimidated to approach you.

It took quite a few months before I finally had the chance to see you out of your stylish attire. And the rest is torrid history.

But these last few months has taken that to a new and surprising level. What makes me so much more combustible? It must involve my decision to put all my mental and sexual energy in one basket by submitting to you completely. No more Mr. remote, aloof, disengaged for me.  I know, your reaction: “It’s about time”. And it was long past time. The best decision I ever made.

That submission evolved over the months since July, 2008, and was enhanced to a large degree by our Contract, which I take very literally. It turns me on just to review it.

All of your little tricks helped me get there: the strap-on you use to remind me of your power, kneeling to worship you, sometimes with my hands tied behind my back, the croppings from time to time, and of course the cage you lock for me in the mornings before work, which contains and controls me through the day. The fact that you respond so dramatically in a sexual way to our activities is an important re-enforcement. I do love to please you, Mistress.

Finally, there is the recently discovered component involving your potential involvement with someone else. Why does that  turn me on? Confusing emotions are involved. In part I like the added sexual energy you get from the attention of someone else. It’s quite noticeable. There is also “validation” for me to be confronted with the knowledge that someone else desires “my” woman. And the potential humiliation of having to share you with another man, and hearing about your exploits with him, compounds the submission and “slavish” feelings that have triggered all this crazy sexual energy in me. And you saw evidence of that last night from ”robo-cock”.

A hard cock doesn’t lie, Mistress.

Oops. Deadline has arrived. And I don’t want to lose my opportunity to share the hard cock that this writing has generated.

This morning, you read this blog before we made love and headed off to our respective work days. Our sex was overheated by our ongoing dialog about whether you will allow Sir to “own” you from time to time, and whether his training has already begun.

You looked particularly hot in some sexy undies as you slid on those tight black jeans. My cage was already locked on, and as we kissed goodbye, the subject of this blog and the hard to articulate reasons your interactions with Sir turn me on came up again.  I said “Maybe if I think about it really hard I will figure it out, and the effect will go away.”

You responded “Don’t think about it too hard, Slave”. 

My response: “Yes, Mistress.”