Showing posts with label brown suede boots. Show all posts
Showing posts with label brown suede boots. Show all posts

Wednesday, October 27, 2010

Caged Slave While Mistress Is on a Road Trip

So I am sitting down here in our kitchen, coffee made, Mistress snoozing upstairs in our Chambers, trying to figure the best way to catch up with all of you after two blog days devoted to Mistress’s sad Sunday “ordeal”.

The hard steel ring of my cock cage is already gripping the base of my balls and cock …. This is the day Mistress is heading off to her little work trip to the Capitol of Country Music, and I am to be caged in her absence.

“Trust but verify” is her watchword for her Slave, and who could blame her. Who knew she had a Ronald Reagan streak in her. “Spank one for the Gipper?”

So, catching up….

There was early Monday morning sex here at the Collins House of Corrections. Mistress still had some excess sexual energy to discharge, and I was happy to be of assistance before we headed for work.

And Monday was a long cage day for me too: We drove separately and our regular readers know what that means. Extra security required. And I was out later than normal: teaching a class at a local graduate school, a cameo appearance that had me dusting off some of my performance art skills. Well, the performance art that does not involve kneeling and lapping.

As I strode about the room, trying to engage and amuse while relying on the crutch of my power point presentation, I wondered what my earnest audience would think if they knew their confident, cocky speaker was sporting a stainless steel cock cage.

I got home to Mistress at about 8:30 pm, worshipped her succulent folds, then crashed. The performance art thing is fun, but takes some energy out of the old guy.

Tuesday morning was an early rise for us. Mistress had one of those annoying breakfast meetings that need to be scheduled at inhuman hours here in River City so as to cultivate the macho: “gotta’ be at my desk bright and early culture”, even though most of them are probably surfing sex blogs and facebook at those desks for a good chunk of their days.

So she had the benefit of my tongue and lips as she read my report to Warden M, but Slave’s twitching cock was placed on hold.



“Oh well, Slave…. You had your chance last night…. You will just have to wait until this evening.”

Can you blame her after Sunday’s treatment.

(By the way, make sure you check out the Governor’s comment on my report at the end of yesterday’s blog. Maybe his writer’s block is lifting?).

Fortunately, Mistress did have time to stop by after her early meeting yesterday for some early morning worship (round two for her that morning if you are keeping track).

She had broken her fashion mold, skipping the black for some sexily tactile brown suede boots, with deep brown tights. And you know both drove me crazy, particularly since it had been a “cruel” 24 hours now since Slave had his chance to come.

The photo above shows her as she begins the process of shedding her boot and one leg of her tights for a quicky worship opportunity. And she left me twitching in my office, the taste of her delicious juices smeared across my enraptured mouth.

Damn. Why was I so tired Monday evening.

On the drive home, Mistress talked about our protocol for her trip.

“Of course, you will be caged, Slave. I will hide the key where I can have you find it in an emergency… and, if you’re lucky, maybe there will be some video chat sex of there is time.”

“And what about M, Mistress? Do you have some plans with him?”

“I know he wants to have me go to my room in the afternoons for some of our “dates”…. But I just don’t know what the schedule will be like….”

“And I am sure you will be keeping your eye out for stud-ly country music stars too, Mistress….”

“We’ll see about that, Slave.”

Mistress does have carte blanche on such things. It’s always interesting to see who might flirt with her.

Some crazy storms and wind had cleared by the time we made it home. So there was a brisk bike ride in the chilly air that the passing front brought us.

Nice recharge opportunity for both of us.

And after the surly teens were fed, we had some catching up to do in our Chambers.

“Why don’t you insert your device, Slave.”

I did, and Mistress made sure that my cock had her full attention for the next 30 minutes or so….

“That seemed like a big one, Slave”, she commented, after I had exploded into her in the final throws of our tangle.

“Yes, it was Mistress.”

“One thing you need to do Slave, before you go to sleep….”

“and that would be?”

“Go pack the Hitachi in my bag, Slave…. Don’t want to forget that.”

No. I am sure she and M would be disappointed if her power tool got left behind.