If you missed them, stop by to check out some of the comments left yesterday, in response to my request for any ideas you might have for how Mistress’s “pampered house Slave” should be handled while Mistress is across the pond, starting next week.
Suzanne, was on the mark: I should be very grateful for the kid glove treatment I get around here. Thankfully, Mistress does not seem inclined to follow M’s rather cruel suggestion that she simply lock my cage and literally take the key with her on her 10 day excursion with her mother and sister.
Donna was thinking ahead, noting that ample usage of my equipment will keep it in good working order so that when Mistress returns she can be serviced in the manner (and frequency) which she has come to expect.
Suzanne’s suggestion that I “fall to my knees” at the first opportunity available to express my appreciation for Mistress’s mercy brought to mind a little episode I forgot to mention earlier this week.
This was on Monday, the dreaded tax day. Mistress had been worshiped once already, in my office, when she had come over to sign our returns, only to learn that they still had not been finalized. At least there was a consolation prize for her inconvenience.
On the way home, Mistress shared a bit of her conversation with M from earlier in the day.
“He says he and B had ‘epic’ sex this morning Slave.”
“Well that’s good, Mistress….”
“Yes, I suppose it is, Slave.”
But I did feel a little bad about it, since, although we had some rather primo sex in NYC over the weekend, now that we had gotten back in River City, we were focused on work, kids, blah, blah.
I wondered if Mistress was concerned that we had been somehow less than “epic” in the preceding 24 hours. Was there a little competition brewing here?
By now we were back at home, and Mistress graciously accepted my offer for some additional worship before we took a pre-dinner bike ride.
She slid off her dress and black undies, spreading her legs.
I was about to “chow down”, so to speak.
But then Mistress had an idea.
“Hand me my phone, Slave…. Maybe we should send M a photo to demonstrate that we can do ‘epic’ too.”
“Of course, Mistress… always happy to accommodate….”
She handed me the phone, as I was kneeling between her firm and luscious thighs, her clean shaven folds spreading before me.
I clicked one shot, handed it to her for approval.
“Try again, Slave…. There’s a little too much body…. Let’s give him a little more beaver….”
Well, in this case, since Mistress is completely fur-less, I wasn’t sure that “beaver” was really the right term, but a Slave should not quibble, right?
“Of course, Mistress.”
She seemed pleased with my next effort, then texted it off to her “personal trainer”.
“Let’s hope that he wasn’t riding his bike in traffic when that popped up, Mistress.”
“It would server him right, Slave.”
Mistress was really in an uppity mood, I suppose.
At that point, I returned to my primary directive, pleasing Mistress.
So here we are, Thursday morning. Mistress and M have a training session scheduled later this morning, which means I will be headed to work without her. I guess that also means I better ask if I should wear my cage.
And after she reads this blog, I think I know what Mistress’s answer will be.
But at least M has not imposed a pre-training embargo on Mistress.