HUH?

"Simone" and "Sam" have been forced to go on the Lam, after some sloppy security work exposed them to their potential "enemies". Fortunately, they've found help through the SBPP.
("Sex Bloggers Protection Program"). Follow their adventures here until its safe for them to resume their prior alter-egos.

Tuesday, June 15, 2010

Caged on a Sultry Sunday Afernoon


These days my cock cage usually is required only when Mistress and I are not driving to work together. It must give Mistress an extra sense of security that I won’t be getting into “trouble”. 

And it allows her the always fun text message  sometime during the day, “how is the cage, Slave?” , and it’s de rigeur response, “Tight, Mistress.”

Sunday was an exception to the rule.

We have a rental property in River City’s University quarter. I  lived there for several years during our loathsome “commuter life”. The old house is  charming but not nearly capacious enough for all four of us, particularly considering the storage needs of  our two divas in training.

One particular sore point for Mistress is that  woman, with whom I had inappropriate dealings during that commute, lives a few blocks away.  So it’s a neighborhood Mistress would prefer that her Slave steer clear of, unless absolutely necessary.

On this Sunday the necessity was some much needed yard maintenance. Mistress knew in her mind that Slave would not stray (I hope she knows that by now). And of course she is always welcome to come join in the fun ( or lounge about while Slave deploys the weed eater).  But she had another security precaution in mind.

“I think you should wear your cage today,  Slave.”

“Of course, Mistress.”

So before loading up the equipment, I equipped myself with the steel cage, allowing Mistress to shut the little padlock.

“Good slave. Go do your work and hurry home.”

About two hours later I made it back, a sweaty, grimy mess.

Mistress was in her bikini, reading a book, lounging on our deck splayed across a chaise.

She acknowledged my return with a kiss, and suggested I get out of those sweaty cloths and join her. But there was no suggestion that I retrieve the key to my cage.

So I changed into some shorts, and returned to the deck, NY Times and a cold beer in hand.

We chatted a  bit about the news of the day, and our plans for the week.
She had her I-phone in hand, and took a call from our Western Correspondent. They were planning their phone “date” for later that afternoon.

“Yes….Slave’s right here …. M says hello, Slave.”

“Say Hi for me, Mistress.”

She did and added, “By the way, Slave’s still in his cage….when do you think I should take it off?”

Hmmm.  A Dom/Domme consult. Twitch. Up to that point the cage was a bit of background discomfort. Suddenly it had come to the fore.

“You know, I think you’re right….it stays on until after our date this afternoon.”

Mistress rang off, stood and came over to me, a hand gently resting on my crotch, confirming that the steel cage was still in place. Like it was going anywhere without her little key?

“You don’t mind if I leave it on until later, do you Slave?”

As if my opinion counted.

“Of course not, Mistress. It’s probably good for me.”

“Yes, Slave. You do need to be reminded of your place from time to time.”

The afternoon was a pleasant one. Hot and Humid. We made a nice lunch with some smoked salmon and fresh baked bread. Very Irish.

Around 4 pm it was time for Mistress’s date.


“Could be an hour or so, Slave. I will give a call when you can come up.”

I got a little antsy then. Did some pruning in the yard to distract myself from the twitch of my cock inside the cage as I imagined Mistress with Hitachi in hand being further programmed in the ways of submitting to M’s suggestive voice.


But the hour passed, and I got my call.

“Please come upstairs now, Slave.”

When I arrived, Mistress was lounging on the bed, her bikini bottom off, the top still on.  She had that well fucked smile on her face. And the room was redolent of her arousal. No doubt he had made her come two, three times over that hour.

“Why don’t you strip for me and fetch the key, Slave.”

I was happy to comply, and when she unlocked the cage and helped me work the covering off my cock, she took it in her hands and massaged it gently with her nicely painted nails.  It responded the way you might imagine.

“Oh my….I think it missed me.”

It did.

Thankfully, Mistress seems to enjoy a hard and demanding cock after one of those phone indoctrinations with her Master.










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