The Cage

Driving home through some annoying Friday night traffic, after another work day in my cock cage, I got to thinking about the long term impact the cage has had on my habits, perspective and demeanor, and not just as I relate to my Mistress.

Mistress directed me to get the cage a little more than a year ago. It was one of the many things we did to help her feel more secure after my colossal lapse in judgment in the summer of 2008. Giving your wife the key to the little device that contains your cock is the ultimate “power exchange”. I wore the cage on and off in those first few months, even on airplanes. But now that I am “under contract”, wearing the cage has become an every work day routine for me. Something that just goes without saying, like brushing my teeth in the morning, collecting the papers out on the drive, or pleasuring mistress while she reads my homework.

After my shower, I slide the little plastic parts around my balls, over my cock, press them together until they mesh, then slide the lock through the little eye that sits on top of my now contained penis. I then ask Mistress to close the lock for me. She keeps the key until she decides to release me.

Here is an odd little video from youtube showing how my cage works. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l37m7fK77Lw

Once the lock is closed, I do notice a certain change in my state of mind. There is a bit of a chill when Mistress smiles at me after closing the lock. It’s an unspoken assertion of her control over me. And although she routinely unlocks me at the end of the work day, if I have worshiped her sufficiently, there is always the possibility that she will be displeased or unavailable for me and the cage will stay on beyond the 8-10 hours to which I have become accustomed. And there have been times when she makes out with me on our bed after worship, with the cage still on. Yikes.

Keep in mind that the cage does cause a certain degree of low grade discomfort as the day progresses. Often a fold of skin or a hair will get caught between the plastic parts. Ouch. I need to reach into my pants and adjust a bit to make the pain go away, which requires some privacy. And with the cage on, it’s particularly uncomfortable to lean over and pick something off the floor or even tie my shoes. All these little inconveniences, including the need to sit to pee, are a constant reminder of my status as Mistress’s Slave.

Of course, much if the day does not involve discomfort. But I am almost always conscious of the restraint on my cock and balls, almost as if Mistress is cupping me there. Now that is a nice thought and good feeling.

I have always been a bit of a Type A at work. And as Mistress knows all too well, in the past I have probably been a little too flirtatious with the women I encounter at work or during my business and civic activities. Not in a annoying sexual harassing sort of way, but simply in the blarney spewing Irishman way. Its in my DNA. It’s how Mistress and I got together all those years ago, truth be told.

But my long term use of the cage does seem to have toned me down big time. Though no one would suspect that good old Mick is locked into some plastic device that keeps his cock out of trouble, there is something about a contained penis that brings out the humility and tones down the hubris in a man.

One of our rules since our road to my submission began is that I may not touch myself for the purpose of providing pleasure without Mistress’s express permission. And while it was never my routine to do that sort of thing at work, knowing that even an involuntary scratch or stroke is out of bounds until Mistress unlocks me tends to focus my mind on what I can’t do. So as we trade little emails or texts during the day with some sexual innuendo, the result is a frustrating little tingle down there that seems to last quite a while, and crescendos as the day ends and I begin my commute home. It’s an itch that I just can’t scratch without Mistress and her little key.

That is particularly true on those days when Mistress stops by, and, behind closed doors, I peel down her tights, and service her. Her taste and aroma are with me for the rest of the day, but my cock is on lock down until she decides to turn the key.

After long term use, the training the cage provides about self denial and personal discipline lasts even when my cage is off. I can’t remember the last time I reached below my waist for any pleasurable purpose. And my days of being a blarney dispensing flirt have ended. Pavlov was onto something.

Now I know I can’t complain. Blogland is filled with sad tales of Submissive hubbies locked into their cages for weeks or months on end. (Though I do think that is more fantasy than reality). For me, cage time rarely lasts more than about 10 hours. My Mistress must either be very merciful, or too into a hard cock to keep me in the cage much longer.

So far the worst I have experienced is an overnight when Mistress had to go to Gotham City, and I was locked away for more than 36 hours. You can imagine how happy and hungry for Mistress I was when I got her home that evening after her trip.

We have had talked about how we might handle longer trips, particularly if she had an encounter with another man while away. Certainly I would want to hear the juicy details, and masturbate with her permission. Or would I be required to stay under lock and key until she returned, maybe several days later. If not, would there me a friend she could entrust the key to to accommodate me, or in an emergency. Once the cage was off, how do I secure the key in a way that Mistress knows I can’t access it again until she returns? Give it back to her friend. Or her mom? That would be an interesting conversation. “Could you hold into this little key until your daughter returns?’

We will keep our reader(s) up to date as we deal work our way through these contingencies.

Discipline

This Slave deserved to be punished last night.  But Mistress was very merciful.

I act as the de facto Chief Technology Officer of Mistress’s blossoming consulting business. It was time for her to get a new desk top computer from the folks at Apple and I dutifully ordered it, and attempted to set it up when it arrived. Its an elegant looking I-Mac with one of those wide screens bigger than most of our TVs.

The only problem was that the “geniuses” forgot to install the airport card. SO no internet access.  I made an appointment to talk to a polite but clueless customer service rep the next morning. When her “fix’, which constituted unplugging the computer and plugging it back in failed to find the airport card, she suggested either shipping it back, or taking it to a local Apple store for a “fix”. I made the appointment,  loaded  the re-boxed computer in Mistress’s car for a trip to the mall with our girls.  But I was “too busy” to bring it there myself. Sadly (but not unexpectedly) this turned into an hours long ordeal for Mistress. Bad Slave.

When she returned with a new computer later last evening (the “fix” was too complicated), she was not in a vengeful mood though. She wanted a bath. I prepared her a drink as she relaxed into her tub, bubbles gathering around her. The photo shows her lovely, firm thighs.

Bath over, she released me from my cage, and we lay in bed for a while, side by side, letting the busy day slip away, watching “The Office”. As the show began she put on her long black leather glove, fondling me gently, the soft leather tantalizing the cock and balls that had been locked away for the past 12 hours or so. Of course, they enjoyed the attention, and my cock was soon stretched and ready for her, though neither of us were in a hurry.

The show ended. The TV and lights went off, and I finally had the chance to do what I had been awaiting for hours: bury myself between her now well scrubbed thighs, and enjoy the taste and smell that has become a central part of my enslavement. We took our time and she came once for me, then again, before she pulled me up and pushed me down so she could return the favor, taking my cock into her mouth until I was begging to enter her.

When I finally had permission, I mounted her, and we talked as we fucked about a lovely hypothetical encounter her new friend S had written up for her, that popped up in our in-box earlier yesterday. S is a good writer. And his effort certainly piqued Mistress’s curiosity about what it might be like to submit to him.

This talk about Mistress’s hankering to submit from time to time encouraged me to flip her over and take her from behind, and by now she was well prepared for a smooth and swift entry that way. As I murmured more about  the possibility of us finding some nipple clamps to experiment with, she came hard for me, the way I find very gratifying.  As she melted into the bed, I rolled her over again, taking my pleasure with exuberance, but only with her permission, of course.

When I woke this morning, I realized that I had gotten off very easy. Mistress was tired last night after her computer ordeal, and I hope I provided the relaxation and pleasure she needed. But I do believe that somehow I must still do penance for letting Mistress deal with those tiresome Apple folks, amidst the pre-Christmas frenzy at the mall.

In the last few weeks we have developed a very enjoyable relationship via comments and email with a Master and his Slave blogging as Domsublove. You can find a link to their blog on the right of this page.

Master S is much stricter with his slave Desiree  than my Mistress is with me, and Desiree seems far more disciplined in her efforts to always place her Owner’s needs first. As a Slave, she puts me to shame.

Mistress reached out to Master S earlier this week, half in jest, for some advice on how to further train me as her slave. He gave her some options, that went down two paths: pain or abstinence. And Desiree gave me some good advice on how to serve Mistress with more devotion. “Practice, Practice, Practice” was her advice.

On the subject of Pain: We do have a riding crop, but Mistress uses it sparingly, and usually as a preliminary to sex play, not for punishment.  She should probably use it more, particularly as an outlet when she is annoyed with me but is disinclined to make a “big deal” of her annoyance. In my humble view, a Mistress is entitled to act arbitrarily and swiftly  to discipline her slave, which is better than internalizing her annoyance and letting it fester.

On the subject of abstinence: Mistress uses this more directly. I do wear my cage every day to work, and on some non-work occasions, which has become a helpful reminder of my status, and reassures Mistress that I am not getting into trouble on my daily rounds. And we do have a weekly abstinence day, when my duty is to pleasure my Mistress without taking pleasure of my own over a period of at least 24 hours.

Master S wondered whether that sort of discipline ends up as an unwanted denial of pleasure to Mistress, which would be counter-productive. I can only assure you that Mistress is well taken care of while I am required to abstain. I still worship with my mouth, and she gives me permission to enter her and fuck her so long as I do not come. There is something exquisitely frustrating about sliding into Mistress’s warm cunt, and taking the time to bring her to and orgasm or two, while knowing that one needs to keep his focus and control not only then, but for the next  several hours. Argh.

Thinking it through: that sort of forced abstinence is probably Mistress’s best weapon when it comes to disciplining her slave for misfeasance.

A Posting from the Vault

 This is an account from a week or so before this blog kicked off. We thought our reader(s) might be amused.

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Its almost too hard to start from the beginning when I try to recapitulate yesterday. The way we came so hard, slapping together in a crazy sweating frenzylast night around 11:30 or so, woken by a text from your former and prospective lover. That is what isstill so fresh in my mind. But slaves need to be disciplined, and I will step back to the end of my abstinence period on Thursday morning, and pick up the action from there.

It was early, around 5 am when I woke. I  found our runaway cat on the front porch and lured her inside. After several nights in the suburban wild, she went into full meowing mode. That woke you up, and you spent some time alone up there with Sasha as I finished my homework assignment. By then you seemed anxious for my tongue, and of course I was all a buzz with arousal after 36 hours of denial. That encounter is a bit of a blurr to me now, so anxious was I for release. I Just remember crying out as I came.  I do remember doing it again with you before I went to shower, after only a 15 minute recess. Then it was back in the cage for me.

Once the girls were gone , I led you into the living room, draped you over the green coach, and used my fingers to give you one of those delicious little orgasms, while asking you to think that it was E behind you making you beg him for release. the bonus was the coating of your juices on my hand to stimulate and frustrate me through the day.

I came home a bit early to ride bikes with you, and you gave me permission to remove the cage. Thank you, mistress.

 

When I got home you were in the bedroom in your black tights, boots and no skirt. Amazingly erotic  for me. I needed to be on my knees and I was soon sucking and caressing you through those tights for a while as we talked about your day. (I am developing a serious fetish for you in the black tights and boots, mistress). You seemed frustrated by a lack of attention from E yesterday, and the roller coaster nature of your cyber, phone relationship with him. Hopefully your loyal slave can be of support and comfort when you get frustrated about that, but the roller coaster  ride can be exciting can't it, mistress? Hopefully my tongue provided some solace once those tights got peeled back.

We did not have time for full blown sex (or at least did not want to rush) before our older daughter's teacher conference, but you did handle me in a very nice and tender way as we lay there, and I got hard and frustrated after that oh so long day caged at work.

But after the conference at school, we headed straight to bed and had a lovely, tender session . I do remember coming at you from behind for a while before flipping you over to finish us off.

Once done with dinner, we settled in on the couch to watch Dexter. As I sat at your feet, your legs around me, you typed away furiously, and I had to wonder if you were sending E a note. which of course was tantalizing to me. And it seemed to effect you too, because when I turned around, on all fours to push my face into your thighs and cunt, covered with your riding tights, the smell of your arousal was overwhelming to me. It made me hard again and I mentioned that to you. You confirmed that with a squeeze of your hand.

So we were soon back upstairs for our fourth session of the day. I remember spinning a tale involving you and a local corporate Poobah in a  hotel room. you pressed against the wall by him, kissing as his hands toyed with you.. Then the two of you rolling on a bed, both dressed . His hand between your legs. your mouth on his cock. It was unclear who was seducing who. but the story seemed to send you over the edge as we fucked, and I soon followed.

After all that, we both were asleep by about 9:45 pm, only to be woken from a deep sleep by the chime of your I-phone. Concerned that it was a daughter you got up out of bed, groggy. "It's E you laughed.  I could not tell if you responded to him in the dark. What I could feel was that crazy thickening of my cock at the thought of him reaching out for you, late at night. as if he was in our room, next to you. When you climbed back into bed I could tell you were a bit agitiated. not mad. Agitated. After we spooned together and my cock thickened some more, I reached between your legs. you moaned and stirred. You were wet. Very wet. That message seemed to create a pavlovian reaction in both of us, Mistress. You asked me what I was doing. I said that as the Mistress you could tell me to pull my hand away. But if it was E there next to you, he would do what he pleased, wouldn't he?

You did not ask me to pull my hand away. And soon you were moaning and quaking and coming again.

You toyed with the idea of telling me to wait until morning. Now you were tired. But  I was hard and anxious to be inside of you. I told you that I would do what you commanded, but, yes, I would like to fuck you again.

Did I sound pitiful? You had mercy. And we fucked hard and furiously with a strange desperation considering how much sexual activity we had worked through during the day. The tale I murmured into your ear involved you, E, a locked bedroom/prison . a collar and a chain. Him keeping you locked away for his exclusive use. I wondered whether I might be allowed some conjugal visits. You came to that vision. When I begged for permission to come, you generously gave it. We slept like rocks after that, spent. I wonder if he understands the triggers he has built into you already , Mistress?

When I woke this am, I just lay there next to you, my nose pressed against your shoulder. inhaling that aroma that seemed to exude your pheremones. No wonder you have been catching so many eyes lately, mistress. you are lethal to silly males like me.

Love, your slave.

More Favorite Parts of Mistress

Mistress's legs speak for themselves.

Can you see the riding crop in her hand, and her well manicured nails.

There is something special about having these legs wrapped around your head, hands tied behind you, as  you enjoy the privilege of servicing your Mistress.

No wonder I gladly wrote and signed a contract to put myself in her hands ... and legs.