Mistress and her Cuckold came to grounds last night about an hour south of the Mile High City. We had decided the long road trip to and from DIA was a little too much to bite off in one night. I'm typing this from the "common area" of our semi-hipster motel, waiting for the coffee to be brewed . Mistress, as is her want, is sleeping in. But I thought I would share first impressions of our "come to Jesus" (or was it Aphrodite?) meeting with our new wannabe Boss.
But let's back up a moment.
Yesterday morning, as our daughter packed her bags and we had finished with the mornings wake-up sex in Mistress's chambers, she began her "get ready for the road" preparations. Typically that might involve some jeans, cowboy boots and a black T-shirt. But I soon could tell that Mistress was marching to a notably different drummer.
As I entered the bedroom to grab our overnight bag, I found her skillfully applying make-up , wearing those hot ebony peek-aboo tights and a sexy black bra to match. She was clearly dressing to impress, and not for her Slave or our daughter.
"Whoa....so you're following the Boss's fashion requirements, Mistress?"
Why not, Slave.....wouldn't want to disappoint him."
"God forbid...."
"And don't you have something special to wear too?"
"You mean?"
"That's right Slave.....the cage.....it's been a while and we might as well get with the program if only to amuse our former Western Correspondent."
"Ummmm..... I thought we were just kidding about that."
"Think of it as a little diversion for an otherwise boring day in the car."
So we were doing this? Moving from just joking around with our former WC to actually taking orders from him as our new Boss? I suppose I had no standing to object. But it was becoming increasingly clear that Mistress's long dormant flirtation with our former WC was heating back up again. Like one of those volcanoes that suddenly pops its cork centuries after burying a local village or two? ( Oops. I should avoid pretentious metaphors.... this is just a sex blog, not Ulysses.)
"Yes, Mistress."
"That's a good slave."
So I dug into the recesses of my underwear drawer, unearthed one of my several aging cages - hoping it was the one that did not pinch too painfully. I found a compatible tiny lock and its key. Then I squeezed and cajoled my "junk" into the hard metal confines for the first time in about 18 months or so. Not so amazingly, it still fit. At my cage, those parts don't grow from year to year. Drat.
Our caging ritual involves me inserting the lock, then presenting myself to Mistress for her to snap it shut. Doing her part, she seemed to enjoy my return to chastity.
"You're always much less uppity, Slave....."
Mistress then made a little show of secreting the key in a compartment of her purse.
It was a long, squirmy drive. With me behind the wheel and Mistress beside me, I was treated to a distracting view of her long, shapely, tights clad legs, which I pawed from time to time. The thought of that strategic opening, so tantalizingly close, induced the occasional twitch from her work-a-day cock as it strained against its steel confines. Of course, with our daughter in the back seat, we remained mute and discrete through the 4 hour journey.
After tearful goodbye hugs at the airport, we headed to our rendezvous with our new Boss, at the same restaurant where we had gotten together about 10 days earlier.
He had a full agenda, with notes on prospective editorial policy, ideas on how to expand our readership and "go viral", and that also involved the recruitment and acquisition of additional couples for him to dominate! (He's talking about you, Strict Julie!). He wants to collaborate on a book about a dominated couple with a charismatic and well endowed Bull pulling their strings. Sound familiar?
"Smut sells" he pronounced. Hard to disagree.
But ultimately, things got more . . . intimate.
Looking at Mistress....."Well Slut, did you wear what I required?"
"Ummmm.....I did.....", she admitted, with a demure blush.
"Excellent. No more demerits today. "
The Boss reached into a bag at his side and handed her a special gift. A red insertable vibrator. (illustrations to come).
"It's got a remote control. I'd tell you to go to the ladies and put it in now, but I forgot to charge it up. So await further orders on that....."
Mistress, handled her new toy gingerly, apparently intrigued.
"And what about the Cuckold... did you put him in his cage?"
Now I'm blushing.
"I did."
"And did you bring the key?"
"I wasn't going to leave it at home....what if there was an emergency?"
"I think he can handle 24 hours caged..... let me see it."
Mistress fished around in her purse. A little longer than I would expect. Did she actually forget it? Or lose it along the way?
"Ahhh..... here it is."
She brandished the little silver key.
The Boss held out a meaty paw.
Gulp.
Mistress hesitated a bit. Then handed it to him. He inspected, then closed his fist around it.
"Think I'll hold onto this for a while."
Gulp.
Twitch.
The disturbing but tantalizing scenario for any caged cuckold had just come to pass.
We sat there, me on mute, caged cock on alert, as we finished up our snacks and beverages. We had planned to hit the road at around 5:00 or so, and that time was fast approaching.
Where was this heading?
The Boss broke the ice. Looking at Mistress....
"Well slut, I think it's time for that spanking you earned by defying my no orgasm order last week."
She looked around the relatively deserted dining room.
"Here?"
"No you silly slut. In my car. Let's go....."
Were we now really doing THIS?
The tab settled, we rose from our booth. The Boss took Mistress's hand. As I trailed behind we headed across the street to a covered parking garage where we had both parked. The Boss pointed to a black SUV in a far corner.
"I guess I'll just wait in our car?", I asked, indicating a silver wagon to the right.
"Good idea, Cuck....this may take awhile....."
TO BE CONTINUED TOMORROW.....
