1970’s

Good morning Mistress Cecilia. With all that I am I hope you have a truly amazing day. I wish nothing but the very best for you. And a lovely good morning ladies and gentlemen, none and all. I hope each visitor here has a fun and remarkable day.

Yesterday I got home from work, fired up my messenger and then had to leave again for about an hour. When I returned I fired up messenger again and a few minutes later I received an email with a new assignment from Mistress Cecilia. I read it, stripped my clothes away, leaving them in a pile at my feet and then padded naked into the bathroom where I freed my cock, dropping the pieces into the sink.

Free of my cage I made my way into the bedroom. I did not need a towel today and so left it lonely on the rack by the tub. I knelt on the bed, my back straight and stroked my cock until it was standing firm and proud. Reaching into my nightstand I pulled out a cock ring. It’s pinkish in color with a vibrating bead on the bottom and I donned it, snapping the gummy toy in place and pushed the button on its side. It began to vibrate in its own little way. Fast, slow, pulsing, random. And I began to stroke.

Kneeling on the bed, the bed shaking under my movements, I stroked my cock with my balls buzzing and brought myself to the brink of completion three separate times, backing off with my mouth dry and my cock bobbing between each one. Three times I reached the edge, paused long enough to let it wane and start again, driving my need higher and higher. My toes were curled and a bead of sweat was breaking out on my forehead.

I took off the cock ring which pinched my scrotum and grabbed the vibrating glove. Still on my knees I donned the glove and flipped the switch, setting my hand abuzz. I reached down, my stomach lurching, and grabbed my shaft again. Twice with the glove I broached the brink, introduced myself, and stepped away. Crossing that threshold was not allowed and I would gladly obey.

Five times total I approached the precipice of completion, stopped, backed up almost hearing the beep beep beep of a large truck in my head and started again. Five times total I denied my release for Mistress Cecilia and finally I took off the glove, climbed from my knees and made my way into the bathroom where I took a long shower and shaved my crotch, taking the stubble away in long, steady strokes.

Denuded of hair and free of the shower I locked my cock back up tight, another glorious assignment complete. In the living room with the paper as the backdrop I snapped a new picture of my captive cock and sent it on. Mistress Cecilia knows her cock is caged. Sitting there, sending the picture, I could feel my balls burning and a thin line of clear fluid dribbled out the end of the cage, a silent tear reminiscent of the crying Indian from those 1970’s pollution commercials. It was a line of frustration, it was a bead of my relinquished control and I loved it. I cherished it. And with it, I feel owned and for that I cannot thank Mistress Cecilia enough.

Thank You Mistress Cecilia.

Humbly and Happily Yours.