A Roll Through the Past

Here is a surprise: Mistress and Slave skipped their Sunday morning Wake-Up sex yesterday - well Slave's was skipped, but I did do some early morning worship - all because we were heading out for a 32 mile urban bike tour through River City. It was one of those large group events for a good cause, that had a bunch of (mostly) white yuppies of various ages, dressed in shiny bright shirts and black tights or shorts,  annoying  Sunday morning church goers as we monopolized a lane of traffic.

We started not far from our inner ring suburban home, winding down into the City, over the River, then back across again. And in the process we passed by some landmarks of our romantic/scandalous past.

On our left, just before entering a large City park overlooking the big river was that old, otherwise nondescript office building where Mistress and Slave first started throwing off sparks. It was the 1988 primary HQ of a certain Greek Governor of a New England state, where Mistress and Slave spent some late evening hours plotting his "stunning victory" over the remaining "dwarfs" of a rather humdrum field of candidates.

Mistress was 25. Slave was 38. Now that I have daughters older than she was at the time, It (almost) embarrasses me to consider that I had trouble keeping my fingers off of her, as we got to know one another better in the pot boiler of Presidential politics. I do recall one evening, as we sat around the table with some staffers and volunteers finding myself standing behind her as she sat there, all perky  and engaged. Did I really start massaging her shoulders, to help relieve the "tension" of the moment.

And who's tension was I relieving?

Pathetic, I know.  I was lucky she didn't accuse me of sexual harassment. Or slap me and call me a dirty old man.

Later, after we crossed over the River and back again, we rolled through our downtown, streets clogged and blocked off for the big kick-off-the-summer food festival. 

"There's our old love nest, Slave....."

Ah yes, the otherwise nondescript apartment building. After a few months of renting hotel rooms, or "borrowing" my father's unoccupied condo for some private time together, we rented a little efficiency apartment downtown, a few blocks from my office.

We spent more than a few torrid lunch hours - well more than an hour certainly - on a futon purchased at one of those funky import stores. Mistress would usually pick up lunch for us. She sometimes ended up tied to the four corners of the futon as I had my way with her delicious 20 something body.

It's hard to imagine we got away with all that, since we were both married to other people at the time.

The absence of cell phones surely helped.

And don't worry, followers, Mistress did not require Slave to wear his cage on that long three hour ride. If I had, what good would I have been to her once the ride was over?

Cage Day

Mistress elected to "work from home" yesterday, meaning that Slave would be driving downtown on his own. And you know what that means.

"It's a cage day for you tomorrow, Slave."

"Sure thing, Mistress."

I suppose I'm fortunate that, unlike Tammy over at All Mine, I'm not dealing with "Cage week" or "Cage month".  So I was a good sport about making sure that hard steel ring was in place at the base of my cock and balls before I came upstairs to wake Mistress with her work-a-day cock for a little pre-work wake-up sex.

After entertaining her with that semi-confined appendage, I was into the shower, then slid on the "lid", and Mistress closed the little lock for the day. Hopefully she felt more secure that her little tool would not be misused or distracted during the course of the day.

It turned out she had some conference calls in the morning, and then spent some time with our cute Co-Eds in the afternoon, doing what girls do together on a Friday afternoon. No doubt there was some grousing between and amongst them, as our Co-Eds tend to break into sibling rivalry whining when they spend more than about an hour together.

I had offered to arrange a Friday evening trip to the movies on my return, and there was some grousing about what movie to see. But Mistress texted me that our younger daughter might "consider" the option when I got home.

Upon my return, I was grateful that Mistress was willing to unlock my cage, after I proved my devotion to her with some worship from the kneeling position. No doubt she needed a little stress relief needed after an afternoon acting as referee with the girls.

And our younger daughter agreed that she would accompany me to the movies. She picked "Iron Man 3" from the list of alternatives I offered up.

But, wisely, Mistress had other plans.

"What if you go to the movies, and I go over and visit Jay, Slave...."

"No problems, Mistress.... I'm sure you could use a break from the bicker-somes."

So Slave and daughter were off to the multi-plex, and Mistress grabbed a bottle of wine to share with Jay, her former lover and still sort-of friend.

I got home at around 9:45 pm, and Mistress was still "out". (We did not disclose the details of our evening plans to our daughters, since they might raise their expensively shaped eyebrows if they learned that their "boring" Mom was over at some random guy's house on a Friday evening....)

And it was natural for me to wonder what Mistress was up to.... had she and Jay fallen off the "just friends" wagon when his son went to bed? 

But when she got home at around 10:45 pm or so, it turned out that things were still in the "former fuck buddy" stage.

"No messing around, Slave....are you disapointed?"

"No Mistress, just glad to have you home...."

HNT/ Consequences for a Surly Slave

I thought I had been a good Slave this week. Of course, there was probably a little grousing about the intrusions upon our previously empty nest, and the incontinent cat that recently has substituted a favorite couch for her littler box. But last night I apparently crossed the Mistress's theoretical line when I said something snarky after she put two of our bicycles on the disabled list over a rather short time span last evening.

(One had a flat tire; the other a slipped chain.... what are the odds of that?)

So I suppose I said something inappropriately sarcastic, like "two in one night, Mistress.... now that's a record.....", probably motivated by the fact that it would be Slave's duty to don my "bike mechanic" persona and fix both of them before a big ride we contemplate over the weekend.

Yes, I suppose it was that imprudent comment which tipped  my secret accumulation of demerits for the week that Mistress had been adding up into the red penalty zone. (It made me wonder what's been going on over in Suzanne's domain this week, and whether Tammy has done anything of equal impertinence to justify a month in that infernal chastity device.... but I digress.)

In any event the consequences were swift.

"I've had enough of the surliness, Slave.... you deserve a punishment."

Mistress, still in her wet biking attire (did I mention she was riding in the rain.... or rather walking after the chain came off), closed the door to the Executive Suite, and told me to roll over and pull down my shorts. She groused a bit more as she searched for the riding crop in our closet that had accumulated a bit of dust over the last few weeks of my "good behavior".

"I hope the girls don't hear this Slave."

I suppose it was possible, since they wer just down the hall, watching some reality show on their computers, but I tried my best to stifle my own pathetic cries of distress  as she gave me about ten hard whacks with her crop, as my ass bounced off the bed with each blow.

Ouch.

Then she snapped this photo with her I-phone and emailed it to my account.

"I want to see this posted in the morning, Slave."


"Yes, Mistress....."

Afterwords, I redeemed myself with some worship to Mistress's damp and well exercised clean shaven folds.

At least then I did not have to  worry about "holding my tongue" for that task.

Everyone Needs a Critic

Here in River City, Mistress and Slave are doing their best to get used to the intrusion upon our privacy by two young women who have "made themselves at home".

The older one really isn't much of a bother. She's taking a Science class this summer, and tends to keep to herself and her cats.

The younger one, however, likes to make her presence known, usually by finding  things to criticize her parents about.  Sunday it was her interrupting my breakfast out on our deck to ask when I was going to the grocery store to pick up some food items she required, then adding "you've got food on your face...." Well I was eating breakfast, and Mistress didn't seem to be offended if there was (literally) a little egg on my face.

Yesterday she was taking issue with Mistress's shoes (they make your feet seem too small?); legs (too tanned or slippery?) and dress (too bright?).

Then for dinner last night, the non-meat eater took issue with the lox I had purchased to put on a salad. "I don't like that type". When I pointed out it was basically the same stuff she had ordered on ehr $10 bagel Friday morning in DC, she acted like I was insane.

It's going to be a long summer with them.

Fortunately, they have gotten used to the fact that we seal ourselves off in the Executive Suite here at the UCTMW World HQ for long unexplainable periods of time, as we did last night after a long work day.

Mistress was due some worship, and Slave was happy to play his proper role in releasing a little of that long Monday stress.

But no sooner had she finished with her little orgasmic hors deurveher text message chime went off.

"When's dinner."

Well, at least she hadn't barged in to ask the question.