MIA MIstress

Mistress had a road trip yesterday with one of her workplace “underlings” to visit a client up-stream from River City. She warned me that she would be out of touch. She’d be driving, and her colleague and clients would be present, so we would not be talking and she would not be answering her text messages or emails during the trip.

She warned our Western Correspondent of her impending disappearance from his radar screen too.

“I told him I was going on a road trip with one of my young studs, Slave.”

“Oh…I’m sure that will get him interested, Mistress.”

She is quite a tease. And of course Mistress has the right, under my contract with her, to take on any studs she pleases. I’m not so sure what her deal with M is on that front.

I hunkered down at work, but I must say that by 10 am or so I was feeling a tad dispossessed. Lonely. I even sent Mistress a text or two, reminding her that I missed her, and of my devotion to her. But, as I expected, no response came .

I was tempted to send her a shot of my cock, taken from my cell phone camera, but figured it might pop up at an inopportune moment. I did not want to disrupt her business meeting with poorly photo shopped porn.

Fortunately, I had some cyber company.

Sometime around lunch time I noticed something in our BigLove1963@gmail.com email box.

The ever troublemaking ‘Nilla had sent me a teaser passage from an upcoming story, a continuation of her multi-part story about the adventures of a certain thinly veiled Triad, featuring a moldering male Slave, his foxy Mistress with a sub streak that needs to be catered too, and a certain Mountain zone Dom who, from afar, saw that need and decided to fill it.

That one paragraph from ‘Nilla sent a little lightning bolt of desire that started somewhere deep inside, rattled my balls and traveled the length of my cock.

Twitch.

Stretch.

The little guy had taken on a life of his own, as he sometimes is wont to do.

The devious ‘Nilla may have thought my cock was caged again, but after two days in a row, Mistress had been merciful.

Now this little electronic hand grenade arrived as I was sitting at my desk. I could have closed the door to further explore the moment. But of course, that would violate the “no touching without permission” clause of my contract. And Mistress was unavailable to me, even if I had the nerve to ask for permission.

So instead I sent an email response (as well as a text message) to ‘Nilla pointing out the incendiary nature of her little stunt, while complementing her on her skillful and provocative prose.

‘Nilla was amused, responding with some “giggles” of her own.

Now it turns out that M must have been a little bereft without Mistress to talk or text with, too.

He sent me a few wordier than normal emails, kibitzing about the weekend football activity, wanting to know if ‘Nilla and I had firmed up the stakes of our prospective bet when our too teams meet on Sunday.

“No.. never did. Mistress did not take to the idea of being the stakes.”

“I can see why she might say that….”

“But it was hot yanking her chain on the subject, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah, very hot.”

AS you can see, M and Slave are not at their highest level of expression without Mistress around to stir things up But my point was that M also seemed a little out of sorts yesterday without Mistress available to him.

At around 4 pm, Mistress finally reappeared on our radar screens.

“Hi Slave….finally back in the office. “

We chatted on the phone a bit, confirmed our plans to meet after work for a drink and then dinner with some friends.

And later, Mistress told me that she had a chance to talk to our Western Correspondent too.

“I finally got him Slave. I think he missed hearing from me.”

She said this in my office, as she was assuming her throne. It had been a long day without her, and I missed the voice, the ‘tude, and of course the taste of her delightful little clit, swelling as it is squeezed between my lips.

I was on my knees now, taking her in with tongue and lips, pausing in my ministrations from time to time to question her on her day with the “stud” out on the road.

And when she came for me, hips rising up off the chair, head banging gently against the closed door behind her, I suddenly felt more complete, like order had been restored.

“Missed you Mistress….”