Showing posts with label Hitachi Magic Wand. Mchelle Bachman. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Hitachi Magic Wand. Mchelle Bachman. Show all posts

Thursday, February 10, 2011

Slave Seeks Distractions as Cage Week Continues, and goes into Overtime

 BREAKING NEWS:  To drag our Slave's torment, Mistress's plane home was canceled. Now she's at LGA (literally) cooling her heels. In other words, she's getting her feet done.

Oh, BTW, that Hosni guy has finally gotten the memo and gone to his palace at the beach. I guess it took a while for him to empty his wine cellar and the national treasury.  Things were beginning to sound like a modern day reprise of "Marvin K. Mooney Will you Please Go Now." Only in funny characters.

Now, back to our regular programming... or this morning's post:



It’s day two of Mistress’s trip to Gotham City. And she seems to be having a good time.

After a walk along cold but charming downtown streets, she headed back to her hotel for a 10 am “conference call” with our WC. That’s why she had to risk embarrassment with the TSA by toting along her power tool. It was a command performance.

And after their talk she checked in with me.

“How many, Mistress?”

“Only three, Slave.”

Hmmm. Not bad, and it was still before noon. Hope they made some progress on that strategic plan.

She was in the City for a Board meeting that started at 1 pm, so after the Hitachi was tucked away, Mistress spent a little more time poking around Soho.

She snapped and forwarded some shots at Kiki de Montparnase, a very pricey, beautifully furnished emporium on Greene St., chock full of lingerie and various instruments of kinky pleasure. We bought our crystal cock there a few years back, in our pre-contract days.

“I’ll bet our readers will like the gold plated butt plugs and handcuffs, Slave.”

She’s sort of like Jimmy Olson, passing his photos onto Perry White for the morning edition. And I guess I’m lucky that the WC was not along on this field trip, or those gold plated butt plugs and cuffs would probably have ended up on his UCTMW expense account.

I did play a bit of a dirty trick on Mistress though. By around 1:30 pm I knew that Mistress would be settled into her meeting, around a table with some big hitters from the world of art and business. I suspected her I-phone would be at the ready, but set on vibrate. That’s when I dropped my pants, snapped a shot of my poor caged cock, and texted it off to her.

“OMG” was the response I got.

I suppose that will earn me a punishment. But it was worth it.

As for me, my “adventures” in River City were a bit more mundane. A day at the office. Meeting with a falsely accused client. Then home to prepare dinner for the kids. I did enjoy your comments today, though it doesn’t seem I’m getting a whole lot of sympathy during “cage week”. And I'm honored that one of our lurkers emerged to note she has named her Hitachi "Mick". It's good to be a role model, even for an  appliance.

Those readers who are on lock down for multi-day sentences on a regular basis (and the women who hold the keys) have good reason to be less than sympathetic. After all, Mick is usually indulged to the extreme by his beloved Mistress. Twice a day is the norm. Now that may not compare to the exploits of the WC and his special occasion cock (even during rehab), but for a 60 year old …. Heck, I’m a lucky guy.

So two plus days without an orgasm should not be too grievous a sentence, should it? For the most part, I can ignore my cruel plight. Except….


In the middle of the night, when one wakes up with a start to the rather excruciating feeling of one’s cock, stretching out for no apparent reason, attempting a frolic and detour of its own, then banging hard against those metal barriers.

Youch.

That’s when that tight ring chokes down hard on those swelling balls.

I swear I was dreaming that if I could just break down the facts of a particularly baffling antitrust case, the pain racking my cock and balls would go away. But I couldn’t get my brain around it. Yhe "ouch" was too distracting. That ‘s when I woke up.

I suppose if they ever want to make a kinky version of Inception, that could be one of the plot lines.

So tonight, I’ve been particularly careful to suppress thoughts and images that might stimulate any further erotic dreaming once I settle in, and replace them with unsexy distractions. Here is my:

TOP TEN UNSEXY DISTRACTIONS WHEN IN A COCK CAGE:

10. Listening to the aging Digger Phelps bicker with his even older nemesis Bobby Knight, during an ESPNU B-Ball Broadcast. More proof that “only the good die young”.

9. Winnowing unknown Facebook friends and uninteresting Twitter followees. Who are these people?

8. Watching this very funny video passed on by Donna, our Southern Correspondent. It’s about sex, but not sexy sex. Brushing your teeth as foreplay? Business Time

7. Video snippets of a Donald Trump’s campaign speech at C-PAC. If this guy runs for President, the Secret Service will need a separate code name for his lid.

5. Trolling the internet to unearth our WC’s social security number, so UCTMW can send him a W-9 statement for his bloated salary and unsupportable expense reimbursements.

4. Watching re-runs of Michele Bachmann’s State of the Union rebuttal. Nice make up for those lazy eyes.

3. Learning more about the Spanish Armada on Wikipedia.

2. Rachel Maddow.

1. This photo, also forwarded by our Southern Correspondent, which should make my cock shrivel and hide until Mistress is safely home Friday evening.