Move Along. Nothing to See Here.

Not much to report from our SW hideaway.

Mistress remains on her African adventure.  Our youngest daughter has joined their growing entourage in Madagascar. They spent two days wandering the rain forest, peeling off leeches, in search of lemurs. Wifi is spotty in rain forests, apparently. So we've only been able to trade a few texts once or twice a day.

Here slave has been following "the rules".

I'm thinking there is some perverse logic to Mistress's order that I "self abuse" daily. The result....self abuse is kind of tedious and boring compared to the real deal. Diane, you might want to try this tactic on Terri. You could find that the whole cage thing is superfluous. After nearly two weeks of this, I may never want to self-abuse again!

Mistress did ask if I had heard at all from JJ when we texted yesterday.  Clearly her mindset (which must becoming increasingly horny by now, since she does not have the privacy for self abuse) is beginning to focus on upcoming adventures with JJ and his super-sized cock.

That leads to a recent article I noted that describes a more serious piece of academic research on the origins of the folklore involving a "horned" cuckold.  Sexually Transmitted Horns. The underlying article might be more entertaining to read than today's blog for those of you who have waded into (or are curious  about) the cuckold dynamic. But here is a brief summary from the article:

"It's difficult to summarize, but in brief .... the horns a cuckold wears in traditional culture is solidified semen passed through his wife, which the other man inserted into her via, you know. . . . The bodily fluids can in theory transfer from person to person, with the sexual aggressor transmitting his excessive virility into the man who is being played."

There's your folklore lesson for the day, dear readers. If the theory holds, slave may be getting a transfer of excessive virility from JJ in the coming weeks. Let's hope any relating horns are merely metaphorical.

Ironically, on my morning bike ride I encountered a group of horned beasts. My close proximity did not seem to bother then in the least.  Do you think they detected a kindred spirit?

More Cage Time At Work?

Mistress is on the next leg of her long African journey. Now she's headed to Madagascar. Hopefully her internet connections will be better there. We've been unable to speak for about 5 days now. Which may be a record for us.  Although we've been able to communicate one or two times per day via text. And she's gotten the snap chats I have sent her documenting  my compliance with her "rules".

She also mentioned she's been texting with JJ too.

slave: "What's he been saying?"

Mistress: "Oh you know 'are you ready to be fucked? '  stuff like that.

slave: "I think he misses you, Mistress.

Mistress: "I think he does".

But in the absence of any real action to discuss here (other than self abuse), let's consider the implications of an article that appeared in the Times over the weekend: "It's Not Just Mike Pence. Americans are Wary of Being Alone With the Opposite Sex". Recall that recent article, in which the new VP stated that he will not dine alone with a female staff member? There was a lot of tut tutting over the implicit discrimination in such a policy. Some suggested that it was an anachronistic quirk of some former radio talk show host who calls his wife "mother".  But it turns out it is an attitude more widely shared than one might expect.

As the article reports, a recent poll shows that Americans have doubts about interactions between a married person and a member of the opposite sex, whether or not at work.  And the surprise is that women are more more suspect of such interactions as men.

When it comes to having a drink with a member of the opposite sex not your spouse, 60% of the ladies think it's inappropriate. 48% of men think it's inappropriate.

What about lunch with someone not your spouse, including a work colleague? 44% of women say "no". And 36% of men take the Mike Pence position of never dining alone with a member of the opposite sex.

(If they asked the question, "Is it appropriate to provide oral sexual pleasure to your female boss", they did not report the results).

Some argue that this disinclination to socialize with work colleagues is necessary to avoid false allegations of sexual harassment. The article quotes men who fear even meeting with a female colleague privately unless in a glass walled conference room, or with the door open. (A rule that Roger Ailes clearly did not follow!)  On the other hand, working women can fairly argue that such policies inherently discriminate against them, by eliminating opportunities for the types of interactions with their bosses that men in the workplace enjoy.

But there's a solution!

If more men  wore cock cages to work, then the risk that an innocent business lunch, dinner, or one-on-one conference would deteriorate into a sexual interaction on would be eliminated!

And being able to demonstrate that you were caged at work would automatically become an "affirmative defense" for a boss falsely accused of sexual harassment. Example: If  Bill O'Reilly had documentary evidence that he always left the house in a cock cage, no one would believe the stories about him inviting blonde female correspondents to his hotel room. He'd probably still be bloviating nightly on Fox News. What a loss!

There would not be a cloud hanging over Justice Clarence Thomas if he had been able to demonstrate that he was caged when he described that pubic hair on the coke can to Anita Hill in his office at the EEOC.

And if "mother" snapped a photo of Mike Pence in his cage every morning before he leaves for his office in the West Wing, he'd feel more comfortable lunching privately with his female staffers (if he has any). Or even Kelly Ann Conway!

As the policy of men wearing cages to work gains more popularity, it would encourage entrepreneurs to design and manufacture new and improved cock cage designs. Comfort would likely improve for folks like Terri and me. And prices would go down!  It's the American way!

Of course, it would't be fair to limit this remedy to inherent sexual discrimination in the workplace to male supervisors, would it?  Should lady bosses be required to wear a shield that would prevent them from demanding sexual favors from their male subordinates?

Let's not get carried away.

Slave's Rules.

Yesterday, Diane made a comment raising the question of  how slave is handling this period of time away from Mistress.  As I mentioned last week, Mistress has imposed certain rules for her slave to live by during this nearly three week disruption of our "normalcy".

Rule 1: Daily "self-abuse", with a required snapchat photo of "her cock" transmitted as proof.
Rule 2: When I go out in the evening, I wear my cage. Again, a photo is required to show evidence of compliance.

(I suppose I have interpreted this "in the evening" element of the rule.  I have not worn the cage when going hiking or biking, or going to the farmer's market or grocery store, as I did yesterday).

Mistress and I have been able to text at least daily everyday, around lunch time here, and at bed time for her (there is about an 8 hr. difference).

One improvement in my cage time -- I took Terri's recommendation and purchased as a birthday gift for Mistress -- a new cage. The "Holy Trainer" arrived late last week.  The local post mistress handed my package to me without any sense of "you sick fuck" in her eyes. So I guess the promise of discrete packaging was bona fide. While it took one trial and error in the "fitting", the subsequent attempt was successful.  The device is considerably lighter and more comfortable (if not as scary looking) as the steel device I have been using.  Mistress seemed pleased when I snap chatted her the image of her cock wrapped in the clear plastic device.

On Friday night I went to a local historic adobe church in the neighborhood for an opera recital by some young men and women spending a few weeks in town for some type of training institute. The test was sitting on a hard wooden chair for an hour without squirming as the lovely performances unfolded in the sacred space.  It took a little discipline to ignore some pinching and mildly annoying discomfort. But at some point my body adapted and the mild annoyance calmed  as my head went to some higher and better space.

Of course, I've not yet attempted the ultimate test -- sleeping in the device.  Those nighttime involuntary erections are always a challenge when it comes to getting a good night's sleep. I suspect that will be on the agenda when we get back to River City and have that first sleepover with JJ.  Speaking of whom, I did exchange a few texts with him the other day about Mistress's travels:

Slave:  "Hi JJ. Sounds like Molly is safe and sound in the Kenyan bush.

JJ " Yes it does! I have not been on Facebook yet to look today."

Slave: I'm fortunate that she didn't lock me in the cage and take the key."

JJ: "Yes you are"

Slave: "I'm on an honor system now".

JJ: "How is that working?"

Slave: "I wear it when I go out at night".

JJ: LOL.

slave: "True. Sad maybe. But true. That's the rule!"

Mistress has mentioned in her texts to me that she has also been in touch with JJ.

As for her potential dalliance with David (their Kenyan guide), well that has been dicey due to a lack of privacy.  They went on a four hour hike in the bush yesterday, but they had a Samburu guide accompanying them. (the kind that can fight off a leopard with a walking stick). So there was no chance for any "hanky pinky".  But it sounds like the potential is there. She confirmed there was some serious flirting going on, despite their native chaperone:

Mistress: "yes. David likes me. hiked. went swimming. had drinks. fun."

They are going on another long hike this morning together, but again with a "chaperone".

It may be hard for Mistress to take this flirtation with David to the next phase considering their lack of privacy.  But at least it's adding a little buzz to her trip.

Mistress in the Bush

No, don't worry readers.  Mistress has not decided to re-grow her "lady carpet".

Instead, she's spending a few days in the rift valley in Kenya in one of those swanky safari camps, where they reside in well furnished tents and eat sumptuous meals prepared by a local staff.  She posted this photo which gives you a sense of her surroundings, which, in an odd way, are not much different that the landscape here in the high desert. Minus the roving leopards and large beaked birds.

But Mistress must be getting horny, right?  She was unable to follow her new lover's directions to self abuse on the plane, due to the close proximity of her sister and the Dowager Domme. And their sleeping accommodations may also be an obstacle to that sort of privacy.

But there is some potential.

The ladies are guided by a 50-ish gentleman from Kenya. He's biracial, born in Kenya during British rule and educated in England. But a life long resident of Kenya.  He accompanied the group last summer, and Mistress acknowledged there was a bit of a spark.

"He likes me, slave.....".

Mistress found David to be attractive and interesting. But despite some mild flirting and shared drinks, there was no real action last summer.  But what about this summer.  Mistress has a very poor internet signal now. But yesterday we exchanged some tweets at lunch time here.

"David and I are going for a hike in the morning, slave."

"Hmmm..... do you think he will hit on you?"

"Who knows...."

But at least there might be some privacy.

When I woke this morning (there is about an 8 hour time difference) there was a text message waiting for me.

"Heading out for morning hike....", with a couple of red heart emojis.

I will be curious to hear if Mistress got anything more than some exercise this morning in Africa.