Friday, July 5, 2013

Slave's Bad Fashion Choice

Here in our little corner of the Rockies, the locals put on a festive 4th of July, with our funky little parade drawing "floats" and spectators from far and wide.

I hosted a little "pre-gaming" get together for some of our friends before the parade, but without Mistress to co-ordinate the spread....  all they got was some chips, salsa and beer. So much for my "Hostessing" skills. We did make a little video that I emailed to Mistress to show we all missed her presence.

Some of the floats picked up on recent headlines in the quirky way that you come to  expect here:
 But to this guy, among a crowd supporting leakers Bradley Manning and Edward  Snowden, I only have a two word response: "Nathan Hale!"



After the parade, there was the big pig roast in the orchard of a local restaurant. Live music, pork, beans, cobbler, all capped off my the big jalapeno eating contest!  The winner ate 32 in 3 minutes.

Glad She wasn't staying at my house.

I wandered back to our hideaway at around 3 pm for a much needed nap, planning to go see some live music at a local brew pub down the highway a bit.

Naturally, since members of the opposite sex were likely to be about, I followed instructions and smushed my balls and cock into that infernal steel cage.  But this is where I made a poor decision:

I picked a pair of jeans out of my closet. Now these are kind of old, relatively tight fitting jeans. Well at least they've gotten tight. Do you think high altitude and low humidity shrinks cotton?

In any event, by the time I had zipped up and buttoned, things were a little tight in there.  But manageable.

Then.... I reached for my cowboy boats... leaning over to pull on the boots.... ouch. The combination of tight jeans and that quick bend down to slide on the boots and pull my cuffs over them....it felt like someone was grabbing that cage and twisting.... hard. 

Damn.

Next time.... slip ons!

Thursday, July 4, 2013

Happy Birthday, America!

While Mistress is celebrating America's birthday in the foothills of the Himalayas, Slave will be enjoying what has become our normal 4th tradition here in our little town - entertaining some friends and taking in the local funky parade and pig roast under what should be sunny skies here in the shadow of the Sangre de Christo Mountains.

Some of you will be happy to know that I followed the applicable protocol and wore my cage last night when I joined some friends for dinner and music at a local restaurant.
(And I will make sure to wear it again today for the parade and lunch.)

But it came off once I got home last night.  I know, I can hear Suzanne complaining, what sort of "enforced chastity" is going on when Slave can unlock at whim. I suppose it would be better in future circumstances like this that Mistress find a trusted "key holder" to allow Slave appropriate relief, while assuring that donning and doffing the steel confines of my device is not at my personal whim.

But how do you disclose to someone, even a close friend, that you would like to trust them with such a "personal" duty?

It's hard to imagine Mistress having that conversation with a friend:

"Hey.... do you mind keeping track of my husband while I'm gone.... you know.... making sure he's not getting into trouble, eating well, and letting him out of the cock cage for daily bike rides... he can just pop by before and after the ride. Here's the key...."

And what's the proper tip etiquette for  a "key-holder" ?  Or do they just do it as a personal favor for a pal?






Tuesday, July 2, 2013

"Norwegians are Hot"

At least Mistress used a nearly 24 hour delay in Newark to fine tune her sexual tastes.

At one point as I was cruising across the great flat plains of Western Kansas, she texted me that the Norwegian business types sharing the United lounge with her and our children had a certain... appeal.

"Norwegians are  hot, Slave."

"Maybe you can finagle a quickie, Mistress...."

"Drag one off to a private shower area?"

(I know, I shouldn't be texting while driving.... but it kept me awake over the 26 hours from River City to our hideaway....)

She also made some connections with some rock profs from our local River City University who were escorting some students for a "dig" in the same region of the Himilayas where Mistress, our daughters and her mother are heading.

Mistress "minored" in geology back in the day, and she has often told stories about the furtive couplings in her tent with fellow students (and a Professor, as I recall) on remote dig sights in Wyoming and South Dakota. But what happened in the Black Hills stays there, right?

While Mistress was flirting to pass the time, Slave was earnestly missing her. And at a greasy spoon in Lardner, KS. where I stopped for breakfast, I thought I was hallucinating when I looked up and saw this image paying the tab for her eggs, short stack and bacon:

It was a strange Mistress double, maybe a little younger, but certainly the same complexion and body type, with firm thighs and muscular shoulders, and a tight butt embraced by her running shorts. She even had the same hair color, with her hair up and in a tie-dye band much like Mistress would do it.

It made me want to ask her a few questions -- clean shaven folds? Open to a little mid-ride worship? What's your attitude about cock cages? I was just curious about whether the similarities were more than superficial.  All very academic.

When I texted Mistress her picture, she was not amused.

By the time Mistress flight was finally in the air, with a stop in Zurich, Slave was finally pulling into the drive of our hideaway here in the high desert. A wind was blowing and it actually was cool here, and there was no forest fire haze. Perfect.... but for my absent Mistress.

After all those hours on my ass and in motion, once I unpacked, I had that dazed jet-lag feeling. The sort of mental fog that makes it hard to make decisions, or remember what you were in the middle of doing. I figured a bike ride might shake off the cob webs, so I unlocked the bike, and headed out, slelecting maybe a little too ambitious a route before acclimating to the 7000 foot plus altitude.

It did make me break a sweat, and recover my focus. But on the long holl climb back I found it "convenient" to stop and snap this photo of the marker on the drive of a celebrity neighbor:

She's that movie star with the big lips and distinctive smile. A Pretty Woman, quite literally, who was married to one of my favorite Texas musicians, Lyle Lovett. Not sure what the bird is about though.

Once home, I made some dinner for myself, watched the news, and monitored the progress of Mistress's Trans-Atlantic flight on the web.

And before falling to sleep, I made sure to follow Mistress's instructions, fueled by the vision of Mistress and one of those Norwegian guys. But don't worry, Suzanne, once a day will be enough to keep me in shape for Mistress's return.

Early in the morning, I did hear from her... that Viber App we downloaded worked amazingly well... internet to internet voice service that is much clearer than a Verizon or At&T connection. (oops.... is this commerical... will google boot me?)

Mistress says our younger daughter was whining that they should just stay in Switzerland....ah well.

Now they are on their way again, and Slave will have to wait another 10 hours or so to see who Mistress hit on the flight East.


Sunday, June 30, 2013

Bon Voyage Sex

Slave came to ground today just west of Abilene, Kansas, the home of  Dwight David Eisenhower, who no doubt would be labeled a RINO by the scary remnants of his Grand Old Party. Mistress was supposed to be jetting to the far east as we speak, but a series of snafus by United "Airlines" left her, our daughters and my very pissed mother -in-law standing at the gate as the plane backed away. Hopefully they will have better luck tomorrow.

Suffice it to say that Slave could have driven them to Newark in the time it took them to get there from River City. 

But you didn't come here for travel whining, did you?

No, you want to hear about what instructions Slave has been given for this long separation.

First off, we did have some epic getting ready to say goodbye sex on Saturday. There was your robust wake-up sex. Then, after we had both done some chores and errands, we reconvened in Mistress's executive suite for a little more ritualized departure frolic. Mistress dusted off her strap-on and gave Slave a nice "so long for now" pegging, then allowed me to take her in more conventional fashion. Of course, Slave had to beg for permission to cum, which Mistress generously granted.

It was after the dust cleared that Mistress gave me my protocol while I am solo at our Southwestern Hideaway.

"Slave.... I know Suzanne will be disappointed, but  I'm not going to make you wear the cage for two full weeks.... You need to get your exercise, and the long drive would be too excruciating with the cage on...."

"But....?"

"I want you to wear it for any socializing.... when you go out to eat.... or hang out with our friends.... I don't want you to succumb to temptation.... I know how you can be...."

Well, if course Slave will not do any "succumbing", but I happily agreed to wear my cage for any outings where the opposite sex might be engaged. I suppose it's a shame Mistress has no trusted friend out there to act as "key holder" the way Suzanne's sister does from time to time.

And no, Suzanne, "Mattress Mary" does not fall into that category. At least not yet.

But what about the traditional "no touch" rule, you may ask?

"I know this may sound odd... but I want you to take things into your own hands once... but no more than once... each day. Send me an email everyday to explain how that is going....I don't want you getting too horny while I am gone... who knows what trouble you might get into.

"Uhh... yes, Mistress....", I said with a little surprise.

I think I am a pampered house slave, don't you?

After dinner we settled into a night of veging together, watching some TV, and clinging. We're not used to such a long sabbatical from our daily routines with one another.

And this morning, though I planned to leave at 7 am, we made sure to have one more session, with me worshiping Mistress, and, after she was pleased, me fucking her slow and hard for the last time for two weeks.

Now I'm all by my lonesome in some sleazy Super 8, and Mistress is sharing a room with her mom in Newark, hoping to leave tomorrow.

I already miss you, Mistress.