Mistress had a very busy day yesterday.
After locking me in my cage, she had to head up to our flat and dreary state capitol for a work engagement. What she had hoped would be a short mission was extended as she met with colleagues and worked her magic on the media and legislative bloviators.
But before I suited up for my day, she picked up her I-phone and clicked on the camera app.
“I want a picture of you in the cage to share with M, Slave”
Argh. Embarassing.
“Why, Mistress?”
“Well there is the sweet humiliation of it. Plus he claims that B makes him wear a cage sometimes. I was curious to know if it looks like your.”
I was too shocked, and too obedient, to object as she snapped her shot, and typed a brief email to M titled “Mick’s ready for work”, with the message “do you have one like this?”
She is a tease, isn’t she?
Back in River City, my mind was on her evening engagement with her Dom, who she had not seen in a few weeks.
At one point yesterday afternoon it seemed their appointment would be aborted once again because Mistress might have to spend the night up north. She sent a text to that effect, with the reassuring comment:
“If so, I will let you know where I hid the key.”
At first I thought, ”the key to the house?” Then I realized that she was being considerate about releasing me from my cage. She is a thoughtful Mistress. There are far crueler ones out there in the Blog-o-sphere.
But by early evening Mistress was headed home. And at first she planned to reschedule with Sir M. But the allure of his cock and more assertive manner must have been too tempting to pass up.
“I talked to him, Slave. He said I should stop by, even though it will be a shorter visit than we had planned.”
“I am sure he is desperate for you by now, Mistress.”
“He did seem excited about seeing me….”
“I am sure he did….”
We talked one more time before she made it to Sir M’s home. She shared a funny conversation she had with the other M, our western correspondent, who kindly rang her up to help her pass the tedium of that 2 hour drive.
“He seemed amused that I was heading to visit the Dom, and you were locked in the cage.”
“And did he comment on that embarrassing photo, Mistress?”
“He said your’s looks very industrial. His is plastic.”
Stainless steel does have that connotation.
At around 7 pm, as I was answering questions from a group of about 30 clients angry about an arbitrary decision by their employer, the little text message chime on my cell phone went off.
“Here, Slave.”
Mistress had arrived at Sir M’s house. Pavlovian fool that I am, my caged cocked twitched, even as I tried to focus on the audience before me. I could not help imagine that scene. Mistress in one of her elegant black work dresses, soon to be in the arms of someone who will call on her to strip it away and display her clean shaven cunt.
I knew it would be a long evening until I saw her again.
But I hear her upstairs now, and I have business to attend to. Will share the rest of the story with you tomorrow.
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