She confirmed that I would be wearing my cage again for the day – our sullen teen had consented to come down and chill at her office this week as an alternative to hanging around the house solo and therefore we would be driving separately. One can’t expect a teen to get out the door by 8:30 am!
But before I retrieved the steel ring that forms the base of my cage from my sock drawer, I picked up the camera to take a few shots of Molly to share with you. Almost artsy, don’t you think? (She even approved with out any cropping or snipping).
After that, it was a dive between Mistress’s legs, as she read my rather abbreviated post from yesterday. And once she had set aside the laptop and allowed herself a little wakeup cum, she was ready for the main course.
Reaching down to grip my tightly contained cock and balls, she made sure with a few deft strokes that I was properly engorged.
“Why don’t you fuck me now, Slave….”
“Happily, Mistress….”
Afterwards, she made sure my cage was locked tight, then I was off to work, and she was out for an early morning bike ride before having the nerve to wake the teen for a more abbreviated workday.
On my home, I made a call to our Senior Correspondent for a little editorial conference – wondering if I could prompt her for a contribution for me to use later in the week to make up for a little writer’s block.
She had a couple of questions that I answered, and thought I would share both with you:
Q. So, Mick, maybe it’s a little too personal, but doesn’t that cage get uncomfortable in this hot weather….
A. No, not too personal, Donna, since you know all sorts of embarrassing stuff about us already… Here’s the deal. It’s really only uncomfortable in the morning…. That blood gets trapped in my balls on the way to work for some reason, and it gets tight and actually kind of painful… in fact yesterday I was squirming and whining to myself on the drive in, wondering of I could make it through the day…. But it amy be a mind over matter deal. If I can mentally focus and somehow ‘persuade’ the blood vessels down there to relax, then relief is in sight….and once I start walking around in the office, and get distracted by the day’s activities, I can actually forget about it… at least until it’s time to take a leak. But since it seems to make Molly so much more secure, I can’t complain, can I?
Q; You mentioned Molly being insecure the other day. She’s so beautiful. Has a great job and family. What’s to be insecure about?
A. Well ask her about it, but yeah, she can be insecure. I screwed up back in 2008 when we had the whole commuter marriage thing going, and that other woman is still around. I don’t think she really thinks I would ever do that again, but if this makes her feel better, a little more secure, then it’s worth the sacrifice of a little discomfort from time to time. As with so many things, it goes back to her parents… in this case her father. And the whole Contract concept really arose from my desire to make her feel much more secure in our marriage… plus the bonus is that it can be quite a turn on too!
Q. SO what about the orgasm in the cage that Suzanne described the other day involving Tammy…. What’s with that….
A. You got me… no way I can imagine doing that… maybe his cage fits differently. Or his penis really is as small as Suzanne teases him about. (Sorry Tammy…. Maybe you can explain how that works on your blog). Maybe it’s an age thing: He’s a lot younger than me. But there’s no way I could cum in my cage.
As thunder storms began to converge on UCTMW’s branch office down in the Appalachians, we signed off. Soon I was home, where Mistress awaited, already down to the turquoise thong shown in a photo earlier this week. And while we had plans for a bike ride, first things first.
“Would you like some worship, Mistress.”
Because the teen has been coming to her office this week, there has been no time for her to slip away for some office devotions.
“Of course, Slave.”
She slipped out of the thong, slid onto the bed, and tossed a small pillow onto the floor for my aging knees.
As I went to work, a text came from the WC. Mistress was trying to see if there was a way to schedule a brief date with him. And then she had an inspiration.
“Look up, Slave…. I’m sending M a photo.”
She snapped. And then showed me a picture of me looking up, mouth still firmly attached to her clean shaven folds, eyebrows raised in amusement, as if I was at a snooty wine tasting in Bordeaux, sampling an insouciant young red with a bit too much tannin….
M was impressed. But that’s not a photo for HNT….
