Saturday, March 1, 2008

Keeping UP with the CB2000

My son’s SO has some daughters who are between apartments, and are staying in the house temporarily. This dampens MW’s enthusiasm in displaying much noisy D/S that could possibly result in vocal appreciation on my part. The other intrusion is that even when indoors I still need to be dressed as any normal civilized person. My guess is that MW does not want to share the view of me wearing the CB2000.

So, it was with some enthusiasm when she announced, “There is no reason why you should be wearing clothes,” shortly after noon. “Yes everybody is gone.”

I dropped all of my clothes on the spot, and returned to working on our income tax again. Having seen the preview, I was a little unhappy about state of our financial affairs. It appears that we will owe both the Feds and the State this year.

Earlier MW instructed me to install Yahoo IM on my machine so that she can contact me any time. I commented, “That’s rather perverse, considering that you can practically reach me from where you sit.” I guess she wants to reach me when I am immersed in listening to music over my earphones.

Around four o’clock she said, “Dinner in two minutes.”

I went into the kitchen, saw that there were no preparations on the table, I figured that I was a bit early, so I returned to the IM installation.

A few minutes later she approached, “So you’ve decided to ignore me.”

I knew from experience that no matter how I respond at this point, it would make the outcome worse for me, so I silently followed her into the kitchen.

“I will do something about that later. You can rely on that,” she added with some sinister tones in her voice.

We ate amidst pleasant conversation. After dinner I collected the plates, emptied the sink, and began to wash dishes. She was busy for a while with putting away the leftovers. At some point she leaned over my arms and pulled a spatula out of the stack of utensils. She hefted it meaningfully and made some comments apparently to herself, but for my benefit, explaining the history and potential use for the device. The tool is rather long, has a good grip, and the business end is made of some semi flexible plastic. She positioned herself behind me and took a tentative practice swat at my butt.

I have become somewhat accustomed to her loving corrections, not that they occur regularly, often, or too severely. It’s just that I seldom need to worry about her over doing it. Still, this bugger stings, and she was just getting started. I continued washing the dishes, she continued swatting my ass, changing sides and positions to find a best fit between instrument and target. My skin must have been displaying some interesting marks, for she went to get the camera. After taking some pictures, she gave me a few more swats, and left me to get over it while I completed my chores.

Nothing about this was said for the rest of the afternoon and evening. Late in the evening I turned away from her bedside light as I decided to go to sleep. I was in that delicious state of being nearly asleep when I felt some serious scrapes on my butt. I had no idea what it was, but knew that MW had to do with it. Not having been given orders, I stayed on my stomach with my butt pointed toward her.

“You are ignoring me again,” she said. She can be very arbitrary, but then in a D/S situation the “D” person can be anything that she wants to be. I turned over trying to minimize my offense.

“Don’t try to take away my toy,” was her response to my move. I knew that there was nothing that I could do right, so I remained quiet and took the treatment that was now being applied to my balls.

“You went to sleep without kissing me and saying ‘Good night’.”

Yes, I did that, just like I had done hundreds of times before over the years. The boys were really feeling whatever device she was using on them, mostly due to the stretched and already irritated skin from wearing the CB2000. I looked at the device. It was a hair curler with long prickly nylon bristles. When she raked my balls, it felt like hooks digging into the skin. By this time the little guy was at full attention and straining the confines of the cage.

She felt around to see the result, and asked, “Where does he go when there is no place to go?”

I tried to explain about virtual space, but did so without much success. I am not sure that she really was interested in the answer. She was just toying with me. After noticing that some of the prickly spines drew blood, she suggested that I don’t get any on the bed sheet.

I kissed her nether lips and said ‘Good night’. I took a long time to fall asleep this time.

It is now early morning as I sit at my computer. The cage and the signaling device are crowding the boys and stretching my skin. I will have to suggest to her to inspect the goods to make sure that we are not doing major harm. At the risk of “topping from the bottom” I could bring up the subject during coffee this morning.


It is now two days later. The night before last she had me remove the cage to check for damages. There were none, and she generously allowed me the night free. I fully expected to be caged again this morning, but things were going on that required hers and my attention, and the thing was either forgotten or postponed. The boys and the little guy have all recovered, with the exception of some still tender skin. Otherwise everybody is ready to go again wherever MW wants to take us.

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