Slave gets to Frustrate Mistress for a Change

On Wednesday, Slave spent a very long Abstinence Day caged up, driving to and from our flat state capital for some pretty dreary meetings. It was the first time I had taken my new, industrial strength cage on a road trip. There was something odd, disturbing and also soothing to know that Mistress had that little key tucked away,  a 2  hour drive away.

It also brought to mind the old “Mom’s tale” about making sure you wear clean underwear in case you get in an accident.  Don’t even want to thing how a “first responder” would react to that device.

Wearing the steel cage on a road trip, and sitting all day at a meeting, is not exactly painful. None of the pinching of tender flesh or the pulling of pubic hair that makes one squirm with the CB6000.  But that tight             1 7/8” steel ring that gathers me up and contains my cock and balls can bind a bit, and after 2 hours in the car there is a dull ache down there. Walking around and stretching helps. But that tight grip is a constant reminder of my Slavish status, which is surely what Mistress intends when she texts or phones and slyly asks me “how’s the cage, Slave?”

By the time I dragged my worn and sorry self into the house at 10 pm that night, Mistress was relaxing in bed and her Slave was hardly feisty. And of course it was abstinence day. In my “sorry for myself” frame of mind, I forgot to offer to worship until Mistress had kindly unlocked me and I had stripped for bed. She was merciful though, and there was no punishment for my slight. Nor did she seem in need of pleasuring. (sadly, she had picked up the cold I had suffered through over the weekend). So it was one of those rare days that both Slave and Mistress “took a pass” (unless there is something Mistress was holding back?).

By the next morning my energy level was restored, and the full effect of Abstinence Day took me to a very horny place.  I had squished myself through the steel ring while things were warm and loose when I woke up, so by the time Mistress called for me, my cock was already semi-hard (reading one of ‘Nilla’s little vignettes also helped).

I did not need much encouragement to dive between Mistress’s legs and taste what I had missed the day before. And it seemed she had missed me, because she was soon pressing her delicious parts to my devouring lips, and coming for me with a satisfied moan.  I then asked permission to enter. Mistress seemed gratified that I needed no help at all to provide the “good old” cock she has come to value. The tight grip of the ring made me all the harder, and requires just a tad more enthusiasm on my part to reach my own personal goal. Mistress was moaning her gratitude for my efforts, but I pulled back just a bit to make room for my fingers to slide against her clit. Timing is everything in life and sex, and I seemed to have timed this little assault just right. Soon Mistress was throwing her head back and shuddering with delight. Mission accomplished, I focused on my own pleasure and came (after asking permission of course) with a startling ferocity in several waves of release. Abstinence Day has slid by without too much frustration, but this was a reminder of the energy (and fluids) that had been held in reserve.

Soon I was off to work, caged away again, but with a bit of a bounce in my step.

The sun actually came up in River City on Thursday, and the thermometer hit 45. After a week below freezing, it seemed like Spring had arrived. So I headed home a bit early for a bike ride with Mistress. Our first in more than a month.  Energizing.

As we rode we talked about Mistress’s on again, off again quest for a part time Dom sufficiently imaginative and engaging to meet Mistress’ exacting standards.  It is a needle in the haystack search for the right person to press some of the un-pressed buttons that Mistress has discovered.  But her Slave’s sense is that she needs and deserves a bit of extra attention. And the quest itself is something that seems to energize things between our sheets.

Back at home, we had the house to ourselves. The teens were already headed to the City on the Lake for that big family wedding with grandma.  And Molly and Mick were determined to use that opportunity.

Mistress puttered about for a while, collecting her adornments for her role in the wedding of the decade (well at least so far). She instructed Slave to insert his little white probe and wait for her patiently, which I was happy to do. Her packing done, Mistress slid her naked body into bed next to mine. My warm up act was some time with lips and tongue between Mistress’s legs, making sure she was wet and ready for Act II.

When I turned away, Mistress expressed her disapproval for the interruption of her pleasure. But her eyes lit up when I extracted our Hitachi “power tool” from under the bed, all plugged in and ready for action.

This is a wonderful toy for a Slave to use on his Mistress. So efficient. So potentially frustrating. Mistress complained as I used it to bring her oh so close, then back away. Much fun to hear that frustration that Mistress likes to squeeze from me now and again.

“What’s wrong, Mistress?” I asked, as she grunted, when I slid the device everywhere but exactly onto the spot that would bring her frustration to an end. “Am I doing this wrong?”

“You know what you are doing, Slave. You know where it needs to go….”

I just laughed and asked her to consider how frustrating it would be for some Dom to have her tied down and play with this for the very purpose of making her beg for release. That seemed to make Mistress all the more frustrated.

I turned the powerful device off long enough to mount the blue plastic attachment designed to slide inside Mistress and find her little G-spot. This was our maiden voyage with this devious blue accessory. It seems very thick, but Mistress was more than lubricated enough  to accommodate it. She writhed in frustration as I slowly pressed it into her, but held back the critical pressure that would take her where by now she was desperate to be.

At that point cuffs or rope would have been necessary to prevent her from taking matters into her own hands. With nothing to restrain her, she reached down, covered my hands with hers, and pulled the Hitachi hard against herself. Her “self-help” led to a dramatic minute or two of moaning, writhing, bucking and gyrating that left Mistress in a state of  well deserved bliss. Fortunately, she did not seem to resent my acts of rebellion and rewarded me with her permission to replace that hard plastic attachment with my own firm, fleshy tool.  I was more than happy to take my reward.

Now its morning, and we are headed to the Windy City. Will report on out adventures as the far too detailed wedding schedule allows.

HNT - Some of Slave's Favorite Mistress Parts

It was a crazy busy day yesterday with Slave on the road, and Mistress dealing with work and surly teens. So not much to report. But here's a photo for our followers. Can you tell Mistress is holding her crop, poised for punishment?

Celebrating Victory Over Global Warming

Mick and Molly struck back against the cold, gray of a heartland January yesterday. We decided to celebrate the world’s apparent victory over global warming by adding a few BTU’s of “green”, self-generated heat. And because both of us have to be up and out early as my Abstinence Day dawn’s, I am sharing a few of yesterday’s highlights in abbreviated fashion:

1)   My new routine to mount my stainless steel cage on workdays is to put the ring on when I get up, while my apparatus is loose and pliable and can be nudged through the steel ring with minimal discomfort. So when I came back to bed, my cock was in its ring, and Mistress was pleased with the results of her ministrations. “My cock is back”, she praised. Apparently she was a bit insecure over the weekend when my cold and meds conspired to give her something less than Mistress-worthy.  Of course, getting over the edge with a steel ring at the base of your scrotum takes a little more effort, but is very rewarding when the time comes. And Mistress seemed to enjoy that extra effort.

2)   As I prepared to leave for work, cage now locked on tight, Mistress was standing in our bedroom naked, hair wet from the shower. I pulled her to me and had her lay face down on the bed, feet on the floor. Nudging her legs apart with my foot, I slide my right hand  between her legs and massaged her with roving fingers. Soon Mistress’s hips were bucking against me, as a thumb slipped inside her tight little ass. My reward was her taste and scent on my fingers through the long work day.

3)   Mistress had a long boring work meeting to attend, and I was sitting at my own desk attending to the nags who regularly interact with me by phone and email. Then an email from Mistress popped up. “Be prepared”, it said. Attached was a photo of my red marked ass from an earlier punishment session. Oh my. Mistress was in a playful mood, and I am always happy to be her toy.

4)   Mistress had a dinner meeting planned, but assured me she would stop by my office for some worship before I went home to feed the surly teens. She waltzed in around 4:40 or so, dressed in a black dress, black tights and boots. No doubt some heads turned as she walked across the tundra from her office to mine. As I closed the door, we kissed. Then Mistress said, “more convenient for me to simply take off this dress”. So she did. (See my picture). There was Mistress, in her black tights, boots and blouse, ready for me to kneel and service her. Which I was happy to do. The wet spot on the chair when she was satisfied was most impressive.

5)   I headed home, still caged, and prepared some gnocchi for the teens. Conversation focused on the exodus from American Idol, which they are happy to gossip about, but far too cool to watch. When Mistress got home from her dinner she had some work to finish, so I was able to admire her as she typed away, stripped down to her black tights and bra, at a desk adjacent to the bed where I was reading. Finally, she offered to release me from my cage. Ah.

6)   The lights out, we began to make love, the good old fashioned way. But as we were getting into a particularly good rhythm, the phone rang. Mistress’ relative blathering on about a toast he wanted me to give at an upcoming family wedding. Now that is a mood killer if there ever was one. But Mistress was empathetic, and used the oral skills she has been practicing of late to quickly restore me to the proper rigidity.  Then she mounted me, taking her own reward for a job well done, by pressing hard and enthusiastically against me in a way that generated  one of those orgasms that had her collapsing against me, urging me to role over and finish the job.

If our lonely planet heated up just a notch yesterday, now you know why.

A Little Too Much Gray

We have been back a little more than a week now from out Mountain holidays, and have yet to see any real sunshine here in River City. Gray skies, gray people, gray buildings. At least the white snow that remains in the ground provides a bit of a relief from the gray.

It’s the time of year when a couple would be better off hunkered down in bed, covers pulled up high, trying to generate some heat of their own to catch a break on what is sure to be an ugly utility bill. Sadly, duty calls and Mick and Molly have been going to work instead.

We did have some time to generate a little heat on a cold Monday in the heartland though. By yesterday morning my cold had abated and I abandoned the medication that the pharmacist makes you sign elaborate papers to acquire OTC. Mistress was happy with the result – she no longer had to settle for something less than full cock. (I had suggested that maybe a guy has only so many erections in him for a lifetime and that I may have exceeded my quota. She was not amused.)

So we began our day the way we like: Me under the covers using mouth and fingers to stimulate her lower “brain”, while she graded my morning essay on her strap-on talents. She then gave me permission to take my reward, and I am pleased to report I was ready, willing and able to exploit her permission.

Down in the kitchen, after the surly teens had stormed off to school, I prepared some breakfast to go. Mistress had on some skimpy sleepwear (you can see it in the photo posted two days ago), the type that the teens say “yuck” to as she parades about the house when sans robe.

Mistress enquired about my cage, and I pulled down my pants to allow her to inspect and close the lock for the day. She seemed satisfied with the security measures taken.

Before I headed out the door, Mistress asked for a kiss and she got a little more. As we embraced, standing there between stove and dishwasher, I slid my fingers between her legs gliding ever so lightly between her lips. Wet. As my efforts accelerated her hips began to move un unison with my strokes, and she folded her body into mine, and I gladly took the weight. Soon she was shuddering and moaning, her mouth buried in the shoulder of my suit jacket.

I was then off to my office, but looking forward to Mistress’s visit that afternoon. My colleagues have commented on how often Molly stops by these days. I note that she is now doing some consulting for a client in a nearby building and likes to “say hello” when downtown. What they don’t know is that when the door closes, their stuffy, steady boss/mentor/partner is soon on his knees, getting his face all wet with Mistress’s juices.

These office calls can be a little frustrating, since I am all caged up. So the play is very one sided: Mistress gets the type of worship due her. I get the pleasure of serving her and the anticipation of my reward later in the evening.

Yesterday was a particularly cold and damp one, so Mistress was in tight, black velvet pants. As she took her seat in the chair I had pressed up against my door, she pulled the pants down to her boot tops, exposing those sensuous black tights, which she was wearing without undies. I like to feel their texture against my hands and mouth and suck a bit through the tights, tasting the fluids that seep through, before pulling them down for my full frontal assault. Mistress seemed particularly wet yesterday as she came pressing her hips forward against my mouth, her head back, pressed against the closed door.

As I walked Mistress to the elevator, I wondered whether any of my co-workers noticed that the lipstick that had been so artfully applied when she arrived was now a shadow of itself, or whether I had adequately wiped my own face to remove the telltale signs of our brief office rendezvous.