Dear god, what had I asked for. Just what I ended up with – that’s what! Last night, just before our trip, I confessed to Mister that I was concerned about the trip. I didn’t like traveling separately. I would be flying and he would be driving the five hours to Chicago. I complained that I could control my motion sickness with medication and that if I wnet with me he would have someone to talk to. He scowled at me and pointed out – again – all the reasons why he had decided I should fly early to our vacation. First, I would arrive several hours before him and be able to arrange the condo to our liking before his arrival. Second, he preferred to listen to audio books while driving rather than be distracted from me since it was dangerous to play with me and drive at the same time. When I pointed out that I would have all the time in the world to play with my self alone on the plane and then at the condo. For that matter, since I would be alone for hours, I’d have plenty of time to find someone to take care of me before he ever arrived. (Not that I would – at least not without permission.) He got thoughtful and I finally shut up. I know that look.

 

This morning when I began to dress for the trip, Mister first bend me over the bed and spanked me. Hard. That was, he said, the first reminder of my obedience to him.  He didn’t warm me up – just spanked until I cried. A lot. Then, he wanted to make sure that I remembered that HE and HE alone decided who touched my parts. To that end, he made me wear a chastity belt – completed with not one – but TWO plugs – jus : t to make sure I remained untouched while I wasn’t with him. (The one he put on me was completely made of leather – no metal. The plugs were even glass.

 

Now, here I am. Sitting on the tarmac waiting for the plane to take me away. I’m wearing dark blue linen slacks, a crisply ironed pink dress shirt which allows my nipples to poke through due to the cool air, heels, my tight, uncomfortable chastity devise. Every bump the plane makes as it slowly taxis makes me cringe. Not only is my bottom red and sore, but my insides are filled and I cannot release myself. Not for at least five hours since he has the key. One day. Really. One day, I’ll learn to trust his words and not question his authority.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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