DC Flashback

Slave is off to our nation’s capitol, sitting in a dreary seminar. The sun is out and tulips are brightening the White House lawn. SO far I have NOT sited Mrs. Sarkozy who was in town with her husband for a loose nukes hunt (or something like that).

For trivia buffs, name the former Clinton advisor who got caught up in a scandal involving sucking on his call girl’s toes? I think I am staying in the hotel that was the scene of that petty “crime”.

Meanwhile, Mistress is back in our home state’s capitol, casting her spell on the media over a complicated legislative issue. I pity those fools.

Mistress had to remember to leave in her car the handcuffs I had given her for tonite’s date with her Dom, one of the toys he directed her to bring. It might be a little embarrassing to get stopped at the metal detector in our state capitol and asked why you might have a pair of black handcuffs tucked away in your black Fendi bag. Are they simply fashion accessories? Or do they represent an attempt to kidnap the Speaker of the House?

I guess this is a sort of “do it yourself” submission, when the Dom tells you to bring handcuffs and a blindfold to facilitate your training and more complete submission to him. In any event, I will be thinking about what she is up to as I have a much less entertaining evening here in our nation’s capitol.

But the handcuffs flashed me back to an evening about 18 years ago, when Molly and Mick were married to other folks, but falling head over heels for one another. I had a business trip here. Molly came along (surreptitiously) for the ride.

In those days, when the toys came out, Mick was more inclined to take the D side of our D/s games. And I had tucked a pair of handcuffs in my bag for our trip.

We were staying on the Foggy Bottom neighborhood, and planned dinner at a favorite restaurant several blocks away. It was a lovely evening, though a little chilly. Coat weather. Ah ha!

Molly had dressed in a short, very attractive dress for our evening out. But before she shrugged on her black Burberry trench coat I retrieved my handcuffs.

“What are you doing?”

“Oh.... want to see how these cuffs look on you with that sexy dress, sweetie.”

Before she had a chance to consider her options, and I clicked one cuff closed around her outstretched wrist, pulled that arm behind her back, and took her other wrist prisoner. Her wrists were now tightly cuffed behind her back.

I took some liberties then. Hands squeezing her firm full breasts from behind, another hand climbing a thigh, fondling her through some skimpy undies.

Mistress sighed, and ground herself against my hand, her head resting back against me, mouth looking to be kissed.

“Mick ….Are you sure you want dinner?”

“Of course. I’m famished,” then broke the clinch, much to her consternation.

When she wriggled her wrists at me, indicating it was time to unlock her, I just laughed.

“Here, let me help with your coat.”

“Nooo….”

“Oh, yes….”

She sulked a bit as I slid her coat over her shoulders, then buttoned her up, to keep the coat from sliding off. But you could tell Molly was as much into this little adventure as I was.

I took an arm, with her resisting, and we left our room.

Mistress blushed a bit as the elevator got crowded. No doubt she was wondering if they were noticing the sexy young woman with her arms out of sight.

She seemed more relaxed as we walked down the sidewalk, me clutching her arm. She made a lovely prisoner.

I released her for our dinner, discretely unlocking her in the shadows outside the restaurant’s doors.

But the cuffs went back on for our walk home.

While I can’t remember exactly what happened by the time we made it back to that hotel room, I can assure you that Mick and Molly were both on fire, and that the cuffs did not come off before Mistress’s first of several orgasms.

And now, this evening, I will have to consider what Sir M will have Mistress doing once he snaps those black cuffs on her.