A few years ago, when Mistress was doing her corporate gig, her perky and devoted staff gave her this little tricked out Barbie doll, all made up, dressed and accessorized to capture her image and likeness, as “Mo-Jo” - the stylish action hero in their world. It’s probably the only full body image you will get of her here on UCTMW, at least until we retire, sign our book deal, and the kids move to a foreign land without internet service.
It captures Mistress as her hard charging, resourceful self. The type that can do anything Don Draper could, but backward, in high heels and black peek-abo tights.
Yesterday Molly was in full “action hero” mode, strutting around Gotham, coping with a cancelled flight, operating her remote office out of the airline’s business lounge, but still able to stay in touch with her Slave and our Western Correspondent as well. And of course, she was able to squeeze a little time in with her favorite power tool. (No, not at the airport lounge).
When I learned of her delay, I offered to take the surly teens to a movie. But of course the last thing they wanted to do on a Friday night was be seen at the local multi-plex with some old balding white guy.
I offered to do my best Michael Caine imitation, but they passed.
So I was solo, and decided to head to our gym. I figured 50 minutes on the bike, watching history unfold across 5 news networks on the screen arrayed before me, all focused on the jubilant streets of Cairo, was the next best thing to the romantic evening we had planned.
But then I forgot about the inconvenience my steel cage might impose in the locker room.
Yikes. How to explain that to the suburban fuddy duddies ? A new style of “Resistance Training”.?
As it turned out, I was able to keep my towel draped or back turned just enough to protect my privates’ privacy …. Not so terrible. And the bike I chose seemed to accommodate that big lump of steel wrapped around my cock and balls without too much discomfort..
I passed the rest of the evening reading the paper, picking up some wine, making a sandwich for dinner.
Finally at around 11:45 pm Mistress pulled into the driveway, surprisingly alert after her very long and challenging day.
And fortunately for me, she was not too tired or cranky to spring me loose.
So Cage Week officially ended at around 12:15 am this morning.
Ahhhhh.
I was very glad that at the UCTMW World HQ on this particular night “the arc of history bent towards freedom”, if not quite as dramatically, as it had in Egypt.
Mistress had “set my member free”.
As far as I was concerned, no rivers needed to be parted as an encore.
“Was it too terrible, Slave….”
She was cupping my balls, inspecting for any damage, with those recently manicured fingers – that was one way to pass the time at LGA .
I was in heaven. Though my cock was still in that never land it goes after being freed - Still unsure if it was safe to stretch out and enjoy it’s new found freedom.
“To be honest, it was amazingly bearable Mistress. The only real pain was in the middle of the night, when the cock tried to freelance, and ended up too large for a small space.”
Actually, it’s the skin around my balls that hurts when that happens…. They get all swollen down there, and the ring becomes way too tight…. Painfully tight. It takes some clever mind over matter work to get things back to recumbent dimensions.
“So maybe I should follow Suzanne’s example, and keep you in there longer?”
“Would you really want that cage banging up against your ass at night, Mistress?”
“No I suppose that would be uncomfortable, Slave…. I guess I need to save that to a night when there is someone else to share the bed with.”
“Like Suzanne and Jay?”
“Exactly.”
Mistress was in the mood to talk about some interesting folks she had met at her meetings. And I was happy to listen. But I can multi-task. Soon I was down beneath the sheets, digging into those damp folds, celebrating the tastes and aromas and textures I had missed.
And at some point, her stories petered out, so to speak, and she settled back, letting me use my highly trained lips and tongue to jolt her into a nice little warm up cum.
“Let me suck it, Slave….”
“You don’t have to bend my arm, Mistress.”
I lay back, enjoying her attentions. And that finally made my cock realize that it was safe to come out and play.
Soon I was begging for permission to fuck my own personal action hero.
And, despite the late hour and her busy day, she definitely made the time to fit me in her schedule.
“Free at last, free at last….”
schedule.
