On Wednesday, Slave spent a very long Abstinence Day caged up, driving to and from our flat state capital for some pretty dreary meetings. It was the first time I had taken my new, industrial strength cage on a road trip. There was something odd, disturbing and also soothing to know that Mistress had that little key tucked away, a 2 hour drive away.
It also brought to mind the old “Mom’s tale” about making sure you wear clean underwear in case you get in an accident. Don’t even want to thing how a “first responder” would react to that device.
Wearing the steel cage on a road trip, and sitting all day at a meeting, is not exactly painful. None of the pinching of tender flesh or the pulling of pubic hair that makes one squirm with the CB6000. But that tight 1 7/8” steel ring that gathers me up and contains my cock and balls can bind a bit, and after 2 hours in the car there is a dull ache down there. Walking around and stretching helps. But that tight grip is a constant reminder of my Slavish status, which is surely what Mistress intends when she texts or phones and slyly asks me “how’s the cage, Slave?”
By the time I dragged my worn and sorry self into the house at 10 pm that night, Mistress was relaxing in bed and her Slave was hardly feisty. And of course it was abstinence day. In my “sorry for myself” frame of mind, I forgot to offer to worship until Mistress had kindly unlocked me and I had stripped for bed. She was merciful though, and there was no punishment for my slight. Nor did she seem in need of pleasuring. (sadly, she had picked up the cold I had suffered through over the weekend). So it was one of those rare days that both Slave and Mistress “took a pass” (unless there is something Mistress was holding back?).
By the next morning my energy level was restored, and the full effect of Abstinence Day took me to a very horny place. I had squished myself through the steel ring while things were warm and loose when I woke up, so by the time Mistress called for me, my cock was already semi-hard (reading one of ‘Nilla’s little vignettes also helped).
I did not need much encouragement to dive between Mistress’s legs and taste what I had missed the day before. And it seemed she had missed me, because she was soon pressing her delicious parts to my devouring lips, and coming for me with a satisfied moan. I then asked permission to enter. Mistress seemed gratified that I needed no help at all to provide the “good old” cock she has come to value. The tight grip of the ring made me all the harder, and requires just a tad more enthusiasm on my part to reach my own personal goal. Mistress was moaning her gratitude for my efforts, but I pulled back just a bit to make room for my fingers to slide against her clit. Timing is everything in life and sex, and I seemed to have timed this little assault just right. Soon Mistress was throwing her head back and shuddering with delight. Mission accomplished, I focused on my own pleasure and came (after asking permission of course) with a startling ferocity in several waves of release. Abstinence Day has slid by without too much frustration, but this was a reminder of the energy (and fluids) that had been held in reserve.
Soon I was off to work, caged away again, but with a bit of a bounce in my step.
The sun actually came up in River City on Thursday, and the thermometer hit 45. After a week below freezing, it seemed like Spring had arrived. So I headed home a bit early for a bike ride with Mistress. Our first in more than a month. Energizing.
As we rode we talked about Mistress’s on again, off again quest for a part time Dom sufficiently imaginative and engaging to meet Mistress’ exacting standards. It is a needle in the haystack search for the right person to press some of the un-pressed buttons that Mistress has discovered. But her Slave’s sense is that she needs and deserves a bit of extra attention. And the quest itself is something that seems to energize things between our sheets.
Back at home, we had the house to ourselves. The teens were already headed to the City on the Lake for that big family wedding with grandma. And Molly and Mick were determined to use that opportunity.
Mistress puttered about for a while, collecting her adornments for her role in the wedding of the decade (well at least so far). She instructed Slave to insert his little white probe and wait for her patiently, which I was happy to do. Her packing done, Mistress slid her naked body into bed next to mine. My warm up act was some time with lips and tongue between Mistress’s legs, making sure she was wet and ready for Act II.
When I turned away, Mistress expressed her disapproval for the interruption of her pleasure. But her eyes lit up when I extracted our Hitachi “power tool” from under the bed, all plugged in and ready for action.
This is a wonderful toy for a Slave to use on his Mistress. So efficient. So potentially frustrating. Mistress complained as I used it to bring her oh so close, then back away. Much fun to hear that frustration that Mistress likes to squeeze from me now and again.
“What’s wrong, Mistress?” I asked, as she grunted, when I slid the device everywhere but exactly onto the spot that would bring her frustration to an end. “Am I doing this wrong?”
“You know what you are doing, Slave. You know where it needs to go….”
I just laughed and asked her to consider how frustrating it would be for some Dom to have her tied down and play with this for the very purpose of making her beg for release. That seemed to make Mistress all the more frustrated.
I turned the powerful device off long enough to mount the blue plastic attachment designed to slide inside Mistress and find her little G-spot. This was our maiden voyage with this devious blue accessory. It seems very thick, but Mistress was more than lubricated enough to accommodate it. She writhed in frustration as I slowly pressed it into her, but held back the critical pressure that would take her where by now she was desperate to be.
At that point cuffs or rope would have been necessary to prevent her from taking matters into her own hands. With nothing to restrain her, she reached down, covered my hands with hers, and pulled the Hitachi hard against herself. Her “self-help” led to a dramatic minute or two of moaning, writhing, bucking and gyrating that left Mistress in a state of well deserved bliss. Fortunately, she did not seem to resent my acts of rebellion and rewarded me with her permission to replace that hard plastic attachment with my own firm, fleshy tool. I was more than happy to take my reward.
Now its morning, and we are headed to the Windy City. Will report on out adventures as the far too detailed wedding schedule allows.
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