HNT / Better Safe than Sorry

So Mistress is off for two nights. 

She allowed me to fuck her yesterday morning, my cock and balls gripped by the hard ring that makes the base of my cage.  It makes it a tad harder: harder for her; harder to come. But when I do ---- yow. 

Highly recommended, with or without the confinement that comes when the party os over.

And that came for me at around 7:25 am yesterday. Mistress hid the key away.  And it was not at all clear when I would see it again.

“So here’s the deal, Slave.   You’ll be in the cage at my discretion while I am gone. I may consider letting you take it off tonight. We’ll see.”

“Of course, Mistress.”

I dropped her off at work, helped her unload her bag. Kissed her goodbye. We embraced and she gave me a discrete little “cage pat” out on the sidewalk in front of her aging office tower. 

“I’ll miss you, Mistress.”

“Me too, Slave.”

I went about my business of the day: balancing caseload with some political activities gearing up for Mid-term Madness come Tuesday.

Meanwhile Mistress and her 3 colleagues were on the road, heading right through the heart of  head stomping country.

We exchanged a few pithy text messages through the day.

“Stopping at Cracker Barrel.  Fun.”

Mistress is not a Cracker Barrel type. Though she has been known to gnaw on some beef jerky when on a road trip.

“Yum.  Just watch out for the guys in jack boots, Mistress. “

I was doing my best not to focus on what could be a potentially long term cock incarceration.

I also used Mistress absence to perform an annoying filial obligation: taking my aging cranky Mom to dinner with the surly teens. Amazingly, they were all on their best behavior and Mom had take home calzone to show her aging neighbors at the condo when I delivered her home.

I did get a chance to talk briefly with Mistress before picking up my mother.

“Busy here, Slave…. Just got to the hotel…. Will go to my room and rest a bit before dinner…. And I know the Western Correspondent is getting a little antsy to talk to me.”

Ahh.  The guy who wanted to make sure Mistress packed her Hitachi.

“Make sure you fit him in Mistress …. I am sure you could use a little ‘therapy’ after that long drive.”

“I will try, Slave….”

(M and I actually traded a few emails during the day. I could tell he was missing Mistress almost as much as I was.

“Try to keep her entertained, M …. Otherwise she might end up in bed with some

C & W crooner tonight….”

“Good point, Mick…..”)

After dropping off my mother, I was able to reconnect with Mistress before she headed to dinner with her colleagues in Music City.

“So did you track down M…. I know he was concerned about your well being, Mistress”.

“We did connect, Slave.”

“And did you get to use your power tool?”

“Yes, Slave. It was pretty funny. He was driving around and… you know.”

I imagined Mistress splayed on her hotel bed, her legs spread wide,  applying her powerful assistant at M’s directions. But let’s hope he didn’t join in the fun while driving. At least unless he has a hands free telephone.

And of course I was reminded of my cage when my mind drifted to Mistress coming at his command.

Damn.

“How many, Mistress.?”

“Only two slave….”

Mistress was off to dinner. I was home, catching up on old Jon Stewart episodes, paging through the Times. Avoiding incendiary sex blogs.

At around 11 pm, Mistress called.

“Still out to dinner Slave…. And next we are going to some club with a group of folks….How’s the cage?”

“Tight, Mistress….”

“Well…. I will let you out for sleeping, as long as you agree to ut it back on in the morning.  Word of honor?”

“Of course, Mistress.”

“But remember…. No touching….”

“Of course, Mistress.”

She is a tender hearted, Mistress.

And even when I woke up last night with a raging hard-on, well, I followed the rule…. Thought of mortgage payments and stock portfolios… all the things that can divert one’s brain from the desire to touch.

I figure if the sub-sisters can do it, so can I.

But seeing the photo I took the other day in my office, remembering the silky touch of Mistress’s succulent folds against my tongue…. The intoxicating aroma of her flowing juices, her addictive taste….

Maybe I should go put my cage back on now, even before I give her my morning wake up call.

Better safe than sorry.