Mistress's Parting Instructions

Mistress headed off yesterday afternoon on her African adventure, demonstrating a surprising skill at  compact packing. When she doesn't have her slave / bearer with her, she somehow figures how to restrict the quantity of shoes, jewelry and tank tops she carries for a two week journey.

Naturally, I drove her to the airport, and our parting at the curb was both passionate and melancholy. It's been a year since she's been gone so long, and my bed will be very sad and lonely without her. It sure was last night.

She did text me this am from the Philadelphia airport before boarding a flight to Dowha to clarify the instructions we had discussed over the last week:

"Forgot to tell you the rules.
1) "touch" once a day beginning Saturday,
2)cage when you go out.
3)send pics of both

So I better document my compliance.

Of course, Slave confirmed his agreement to  these rather permissive and generous rules. She is certainly a benificent Mistress when it comes to the daily right to discharge my "natural juices". And wearing the cock cage for trips away from our SW hideaway is hardly a burden. I suppose it could be much worse. She might have hired a "Slavesitter" to keep me on the straight and narrow while she is gone.

Road Tripping Mistress

Mistress was on a brief business overnight road trip Tuesday night, leaving slave to his own pathetic devices.

When she called before bedtime, from a holiday inn in some small, rusting river town to the southeast of here, she mentioned that the hotel was packed with golfers for some local tournament.

"I bet you could get some action at the bar, Mistress...."

"No doubt, slave... but I already have one golfer side-dish (Jay).... and the my clients are probably around too. Don't want to scandalize them, slave...."

Mistress will be back tonight, but the bad news is that she leaves again on Thursday afternoon for a two week trip with her mother, the Dowager Domme, and her "princess" sister. They are headed to the Dark Continent. It will be a real adventure. Quite frankly, slave is a little nervous about the safety of his Mistress in the bush of seemingly backwater countries in West Africa.

But Mistress's trip does raise the question of protocols for her slave while left alone here in the land of the AK-47. After I finish work on Friday, I intend to jump in the car and head west to our SW hideaway for about 10 days. There are some chores to do, and Mistress seems more confident that I won't get "into trouble" when out in the high desert rather than on the mean streets of River City.

And what about the cage?

Mistress knows it would be impractical to put me on lock down for the duration of her trip. It would foreclose exercise for one.

"But I want you to bring the cage and wear it when you go out at night.  And I want photos, slave."

I guess we will be using that snapchat app our daughters introduced us to.

Trumped Up Charges

Mistress  "threatened" to give her slave some strap-on action Saturday morning when the dust settled from our more conventional wake-up sex.

"I think you need a good ass-fucking this afternoon, slave...." was the way I recall her expressing her intentions.

"At your wish, Mistress."

 But first there was some time for me to spend with my cute grand-kids, and for both of us to soak up some rays at our local swim club.

By 4 pm we were home, and ready for a late afternoon siesta. But when we woke, Mistress was determined to "make good her threat" before we headed to a movie up the street.

"Get our my supplies, slave."

I knew what that meant, so slave went about the task of retrieving her harness, it's phallic accessory and the lube. I also pulled out the aneros, which she likes me to insert after she's "hard her way" with me.

Supplies assembled, I reported to her in the bedroom.

"But where's the riding crop, slave?"

Oops. I guess she wasn't going to do a "half-assed" job this afternoon.

"Did I do something wrong, Mistress?"

I thought I'd been a good slave this week.

"Just get it while I think up some trumped up charges....."

"Yes, Mistress."

Reporting back, crop in hand, and without being told, I assumed the position on our bed. Ass up, pillow under my hips.

"Slave, you've been good this week. But these are to remind you to behave while I'm away."

(Mistress is heading on a trip with the Dowager Domme and her sister on Thursday evening).

She lit into my bottom with about 8 solid but not punishing strokes. I've found that they are more tolerable if I vocally express the ouchy pain they induce. So our two cats got an earful as I moaned in response to each one.

"There now, slave. Hopefully you've learned your lesson in advance and will be on the straight and narrow while I'm gone!"

Pain was soon turned to pleasure for both of us as Mistress deployed her strap-on. Her aim was true and she was soon pumping into me until her powerful thrusts turned me to putty until she exhausted herself in what appeared to be her own impressive cum.

Once we both caught our breaths, slave was allowed to take my own pleasure a more conventional way, with the aneros providing a little extra incentive.

And not once did slave exclaim "but Mistress, I've been framed!"

A Cautionary Cock Cage Tale

Mistress was back by Tuesday evening after her brief road trip. Her slave was more than happy to have her back, and had chastely waited for the opportunity to discharge my bodily fluids the old fashioned way. Since then we’ve had a hectic week here in River City, with a very busy workload. Though we’ve made sure not to lose track of our prime directive: making sure Mistress has at least 2 cums daily.  Friday started out with her ahead of the curve, after some oral worship and cock riding kicked off the day.

Over at A Married Sissy, I’ve noticed that terri received an early Father’s Day Gift: a new cock cage called the “Holy Trainer”. He claims it’s more comfortable than his older devices, and I must say it sounds intriguing. The ones I have are not particularly cozy, and can pinch and abrade after only a few hours of  wear. Overnights can be particularly painful. I’m wondering if I should suggest to Mistress that we try this upgrade, though it could result in more cage time for slave.  Terri, have you tried riding a bike with it on? That would be the ultimate test.

But there was something in the news yesterday that caught my eye, and made me want to warn the rest of you to be particularly careful when caged:

Apparently a couple practicing male chastity had a little too much to drink down near Knoxville, TN lately, getting the male partner into a “jam”. Having failed the field sobriety test, our hapless hero had a special request for accommodation before the cuffs were slapped on and he was hauled to the local jail:

 Upon being taken into custody, Eidam (seen above) told Sergeant Dennis Smith that “he would need a key from the vehicle he was operating.” Eidam, Smith added, then “went on to explain the key fit a chastity belt that was attached to his penis.”

Eidam told Smith that there were two keys for the chastity belt. One, he said, was on the key chain in his Toyota Tundra. The second key was on a necklace worn by Rebecka Alexander, Eidam’s girlfriend. Pictured at left, Alexander, 44, was in the car’s passenger seat and was “highly intoxicated,” according to a criminal complaint.

A second cop retrieved the key from Eidam’s vehicle and subsequently gave it to personnel at the Anderson County lockup. Sadly, the court filing does not chronicle how jailers handled Eidam’s chastity belt, nor is the device further described.

Here is a photo of the tipsy Mistress.

The report  (Drunk Driver Wearing Chastity Device) fails to disclose the officers’ reaction to this unusual disclosure, though my guess is they got a chuckle at Mr. Eidam’s expense. But it does detail his outfit for the evening:

In addition to the chastity belt, Curtiss Eidam, 35, was wearing a white skirt, "white and pink leggings," and black high heel shoes, a police report notes. The 5' 9", 230-pound Eidam also had a ribbon tied in his goatee, according to WYSH.

It’s not clear whether the ribbon in his goatee matched the pink leggings, or if the high heel shoes had those nifty locking straps that some Dom / Domme’s prefer. And I’m sure Diane would raise her eyebrow and sneer about the thought of letting a caged companion keep a spare key on his key chain. What sort of chastity is that?

Regardless, I think this requires all of you caged cuckolds and keyholding Dommes  to keep in mind that drinking and cock cages don’t necessarily mix, unless there’s a designated chaste cuckold to drive home after a night on the town.