Slave is still here in DC today. So the news on the sex at UCTMW is pretty bleak. No touching has been the rules, though Mistress was kind enough to spare me the cage.
Ans last night, when it became clear that neither one of us had been "called" to some other loftier state, Mistress texted a warning / promise:
"You are past due for that ass fucking Slave...."
I couldn't agree more. and our readers are due some choice tid-bits as well.
Mistress did get a bit of a reprieve though. A three am "booty call" from the WC, apparently made from his basement very early Saturday morning.
There are few things that would make Mistress happy about a call in the middle of the night. But I suspect hearing M telling her to deploy her power tool and make it dance on her cunt at his command was one of them.
Yesterday, when we had a chance for some brief private conversation, I got a few questions in:
"So did M get off too, Mistress?"
"He seemed to Slave.... he said he was calling from the basement so as not to disturb his family."
Apparently M's infamous brother, the one with the ass seeking fingers is in town visiting, leaving M pretty busy with golf this weekend. I do worry about those cocktail waitresses at the 19th hole. They may have a surprise in store.
Fortunately, Slave's brief adventure in chastity will end this evening. I'm looking forward to an early bedtime with Mistress. I miss her soft skin, delicious taste and fragrant folds.
And I'm wondering if she remembers it will still be switch day when I get home?
Slave and Mistress remain sadly separated for yet another day. So there is little o report that our readers might find entertaining. Here in our nation’s capitol I slogged around town all day in the humidity, showing sullen teen #2 the sights, and taking a tour of a college campus that might be of interest to her. Last evening we even took in a play at the Kennedy Center.
The teen has this annoying habit of nagging the shit out of both her Mother and Father when we tedious “lovebirds” want to talk on the phone, thereby distracting us from the attention we might otherwise be lavishing on her. (My guess is she just doesn’t “get” that we actually enjoy one another’s company). So Mistress and her Slave were not in much touch yesterday.
But rest assured, Mistress, I have rigorously followed the “no touch” rule. And I am missing you here in this lonely bed this morning. Can’t wait to get home and be with you tomorrow evening.
If you are not raptured away by then, of course.
I did download a few photos to share with our readers, including the one above of the executive mansion, all abuzz with a visit from the Israeli Prime Minister, who seems the type who needs even more attention than Sullen Teen #2.
And there’s this local culinary outpost, near where we are staying, one of the few local landmarks on U St. that survived the riots of 1968.
But the only non-lame illustration today comes by way of Donna, our Senior Correspondent.
Good Golly Miss Molly!
You know, I don't think I could even write a joking column about this one. Ouch!
The business end looks somewhat like a hand grenade and it's "petals" look like they could pinch the shit out of...well, I suppose that phrase might be really accurate for The Asslock!
I am hoping the second key is for the wearer to hold onto in case that "truly unique feeling of fullness" becomes the real thing. I don't think of that part of my anatomy as a door that should be locked shut.
They’re kidding, right? If not. then I hope Tammy over at All Mine remembers to use the spell check in all future entries when he sits in at the blog for Suzanne.
Well, we’re at it again …. Separated for a few days, just as we were getting back into our normal groove in River City. Slave is in DC with sullen teen #2, making a college visit and spending time with other family members. Meanwhile, Mistress is at home with Sullen Teen #1. We will both get some solo bonding time with the girls who will soon be emptying our nest, but will be missing one another too.
This morning, I had an early meeting in a town to the north, but at least we got in some robust wake up sex which will have to tide me over until Sunday night.
But then Mistress already has a leg up on me on the O count. After the two she had this morning, complements of her Slave, she had a date with her “personal trainer” our WC, who no doubt had her deploying the Hitachi to tone certain hard to reach muscles.
When I was done with my meeting, I checked in with her.
“How was M, Mistress?”
“He was fine, Slave….”
She gives me that coy, sultry voice to rub it in a little deeper.
“And how many were you allowed this morning?”
“Just four, Slave….”
Oh, poor dear.
No doubt M had at least one of his own to go with her four. Let's hope he did not let that medicinal sperm go to waste. Donna, has there been any research on how best to preserve it without losing its anti-depressant kick?
And I suspect Mistress too advantage of her private time with M to do a little ex parte communicating with “His Honor”, in hopes of mitigating the sentence he is do to impose for her misbehavior last Sunday.
I am a little concerned that the WC could end up succumbing to her importuning if he lets these deliberations run on too long.
It turns out that Donna, our Senior and Science Correspondent is also going away this weekend, but not to her heavenly reward, sans clothing. She’s headed to Florida for a few days, and has sent this dispatch on how Bill, our Director of Security International is considering how to handle her remotely in her absence.
Assistance Requested.
The other day Mick and I were talking on the phone about some blog things and then, what with Molly’s recent return from her trip abroad and the coin toss/clothespin/orgasm situation fresh in his mind, Mick asked about activities and requirements Bill is planning for my week away. I chuckled and said I hadn’t heard of any requirements. From behind me there came a deep male laugh followed by the word, “Yet!”
Oops.
With that, Bill opened a spiral notebook, flipped through the pages for a moment and then held up a page that had DONNA written in big letters across the top. It seems that Bill had indeed been making plans. Yesterday, after housing arrangements firmed up, we sat down together to go over Bill’s requirements and immediately began to run into some roadblocks.
Let me explain, please.
See the picture of my chastity belt here?
The problem is the chains. First, I checked the TSA website and it would seem that the chains mean that this isn’t an approved garment for wearing on airplanes. It has something to do with the metal and the need to take it off during security screenings and since Bill isn’t going and he would have the key...well, I can accept that this would be inconvenient for the security people, and goodness knows I don’t want to be responsible for slowing down their already slow lines, so that was the first glitch.
We talked about waiting until I arrived at my destination, putting on the chastity belt and mailing the key home to Bill, but an additional difficulty with the chastity belt is that I will be splitting my time between a medical facility, not likely to be wild about my belt, and the home of relatives. These relatives rescue dogs, many dogs.
The dogs and puppies have free range of the house and the sound of chain rattling means they are about to be leashed to go outside to go potty. Some of the little terrier dogs get so excited when they hear that sound that they let their bladders get ahead of the situation, if you know what I mean. I wouldn’t want that to happen every time I move. Really. I wouldn’t.
Bill was thinking about sending the Hitachi since my suitcase will have to travel in the hold anyway, but as he thought more about the situation and considered the noise it makes, as well as the noise I make as I use the Hitachi, he decided this could be a problem in a home with such thin walls, especially considering the birds.
This might be the time to share that these big hearted relatives also rescue birds, cockatiels, sun conures and parrots. They are gorgeous birds and there are cages all throughout the house. Yes, you sharp cookies, you guessed it, I’m going to be rooming with the parrots. I have visions of sitting at breakfast and listening to the parrots mimicking the sound of the motor of the Hitachi interspersed with cries of Oh, Ah, and Um followed by a hearty, Oh, shit!
Ever creative, Bill’s next thought was to send a gag and my industrial strength pocket rocket, which the birds might sleep through, but on second consideration, probably not the dogs. Although, if I could arrange to howl at exactly the same moment as the dogs, I thought that might have a chance of working. But the walls really are thin and while I am certain our relatives understand that I have a sexual nature, I don’t really think they want to be aware, on any level, that I am taking care of my needs in the room next door, even if it is Masturbation Month.
Of course, the perfect answer might be a very quiet remote controlled egg with Bill in charge of the remote, but the chances of that working over hundreds of miles is really remote.
Hahaha. Get it? Remote?
Okay, Ineed more coffee! In any case, Bill asked that I appeal to you for suggestions that take into account the dogs, birds, shared bathroom and paper thin walls. How about it guys? And, please, be gentle with me. Hahaha, or not!
It was around 8:55 am yesterday. I was already deep into one of those tedious too-early in the morning breakfasts for a local charity. The “spread” consisted of cold bagels, lukewarm coffee, and a few flaccid pieces of fruit. The speakers had droned on for nearly 50 minutes, eliminating the only real enjoyment in these things… chatting with folks you had not seen in a while.
Would we have been there if we didn’t already know it was a good cause? Apparently, the droning speakers thought we needed to be persuaded. Either that or they just enjoyed hearing themselves blabber on. About 80% of the guests in the room seemed to be scanning their blackberries or I-phones for emails or twitter updates.
That’s when my own phone vibrated.
Ahhh, a text from Mistress, who was likely getting ready to enter her first meeting of the day – a pitch for a hot new prospective client.
“That was a very hard cock today, Slave….”
Jolt.
Since my cage was firmly in place, her message gave me a little twitch, that seemed to make things all the tighter in there. Nothing like having to sit through a boring hour long breakfast with colleagues, trying to minimize the squirming in your chair because of the tight steel cage your Mistress locked on before you headed out the door.
Standing up, stretching, walking around makes the cage quite bearable. But extended sitting …. It just gets tight and irritating.
And one reason why my cock was so hard for her earlier was that I had already fitted the tight steel ring around my balls, then crammed my cock through the remaining “space”. Not a very comfortable enterprise at all. But once the ring is in place, and the taste and scent of Mistress’s pleasing parts get to me with a little wake up worship…. Well that cock becomes “very hard”, as Mistress had just reminded me. It always seems to lead to compliments.
It would be a long day in that cage.
Fortunately, Mistress had the key in hand before dinner time, and was generous enough to unlock me, once I had worshipped her in the fashion to which she had become accustomed.
(Hope you enjoy these little photos of Mistress, taken during that bath I wrote about yesterday.)
