The Lake House, Day Two

I woke up in pain again. I was still locked in chastity. My partially erect cock was pushing the cage downward, tugging on my testicles. I had to pee so bad. She seemed to wake up at the same time as I did. I asked Her permission to go to the bathroom and She thankfully gave it. I rushed to the bathroom and sat down. My foreskin was all twisted up inside the cage. I don’t know how the fuck that happened.

My partial erection had gone and my cock had shriveled back up into nothing again. I couldn’t reach the tip of the foreskin to straighten it out. I tried to pee to see if that would straighten it out, but that did not work at all. I could feel the piss squirting around the inside of the cage, and stopped peeing immediately. It was not a comfortable feeling. I wiggled the cage back and forth until I could reach enough of the foreskin to pull it out. Finally, I was able to empty my bladder. I cleaned myself up and went back to the bedroom.

We lay in bed and cuddle a bit more. I love when our bodies are pressed together. After a bit we change positions and I notice that one of my testicles has slipped the cage. I had not noticed it until that very moment, but now I am hyper aware of it, and it does not feel good. I tell Her what has happened and She tells me to put it back in. I struggle but I can not get it back into the cage. I am starting to panic. “Do you need to take the cage off to fix it?” She asks me.

“I don’t know,” I say. I try again to get my testicle back in without taking the cage off but I just can’t do it. “Yes Ma’am, I think so. I can’t get it back in.”

“It’s not just an excuse to take the cage off?” She asks.

“No Ma’am! I swear! I’ll fix it and put it right back on! Please!” I beg her.

“Okay, fix it.” She says, thankfully deciding to take pity on me.

“Oh, thank you so much!” I hurriedly take the cage off and feel instant relief. I quickly adjust myself and secure the cage back in place. Everything feels so much better now. I thank Her and we lay in bed for a bit more while She considers whether or not She should have me cook Her eggs.

I tell Her that I would love to cook Her eggs, but I only know how to make them scrambled. “Could you make an omlet?” She asks.

“Welllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll…” My voice trails off as She begins laughing at me. She decides it is time to go downstairs and start our day, but first She tells me it’s time to put my plug in. “Yes Ma’am!” I eagerly respond. I work in my plug and meet Her downstairs.

She has decided that She will not have me cook eggs for Her. Instead, She wants pesto sandwiches for breakfast. She always knows best. I set the oven on broil and She tells me to open a bottle of champagne. “Yes Ma’am!” I happily reply as I reach into the fridge and grab a bottle. She asks me if I know how to open a bottle of champagne. A very fair question, given how inept I typically am at everything. I have opened champagne a few times, however. I peel off the outer foil and expose the cork cage. I untwist the key and loosen the cage.

I am getting ready to pull the cork when She asks me which direction the bottle should be pointing before opening it. “Whichever direction doesn’t point toward anything breakable?” I ask. She nods. I look around and observe breakable shit in all directions. I get down on my knees and make sure the bottle is pointing towards solid wood. I twist the bottle and pop the cork without issue, breathing a sigh of relief. I pour us a couple of glasses.

The oven is ready so She instructs me to put in the pesto sandwiches. While we are waiting for the sandwiches to heat up, She has me cut up some strawberries. She moves to the living room and begins to get settled in.

She tells me that I need to find something for us to watch. I hurry over and begin flipping through the channels in the menu looking for anything interesting. I could not possibly care less what we watched. I will only be paying attention to Her anyway. Thankfully She does not make me choose. She notices a show on HGTV about lottery winners buying mansions and decides we will watch that. I am glad that I do not have to guess what She might be interested in watching.

She tells me I need to check the pesto sandwiches. I hurry out to the kitchen and pull them out. They look good, but I bring them in for Her to confirm that they are just how She wants them. She is happy with them, so I return to the kitchen and cut and plate them as She has taught me. I add the strawberries to the plate, grab napkins, and bring everything in to the living room.

Breakfast is very tasty, and much better than any eggs I could have cooked, I am sure. We each finish our champagne, strawberries, and half a pesto sandwich. She has me put away the remaining halfs for later. I don’t remember the show we watched at all. All of my attention had been consumed by the tasty food, Her enjoyment of it, and the feeling of my body pressed up against Hers.

After I have brought everything back into the kitchen and poured us another couple of glasses of champagne, She tells me it is time for Her to shave my head. I had been looking forward to this moment since She had first expressed Her desire to do it. Typically I shave my own head when it gets too long, and my hair was past too long at this point. Hopefully I would not be such a sweaty, disgusting pig once all of my hair was gone.

She had been set up everything outside. I had brought everything She would need to shave my head, and also everything I would need to shave her legs, if She so desired. She was happy I had thought to bring those supplies just in case.

I ripped a garbage bag in half and stretched it out on the ground behind where I would be sitting, to collect the hair as it fell. I sat with my back to Her and leaned my head back to give Her easy access. She had clearly shaved heads before and knew exactly what She was doing. It was probably the smoothest head shaving I’d ever had. Her touch was soft, and She was better with the clippers than I am. I enjoyed the way She positioned my head exactly where She wanted it. She even took the time to trim my eyebrows, something I’d never had done before. It felt so good to be trimmed up for Her.

When She had finished, I collected the garbage bag of hair and tied it off. Amazingly, no hair had landed anywhere else. I put away the shaving gear and threw the bag of hair in the trash, and then it was time for me to take a shower, and wash off any excess bits of hair.

When I exited the shower, I did not see any sign of Her downstairs. I was pretty sure I knew where She was. Sure enough, I found Her upstairs on the bed, pleasuring herself. She smiled at me when She noticed I had come into the room. She asked how I found Her and I told her it was my first guess. She allowed me to come lay down next to Her, and I asked Her if I could help. She instructed me just how to touch Her to help her climax. I will never get tired of watching her come.

When She was satisfied, She decided it was time for us to take a swim. We got our swimsuits on and met down by the water. Storm clouds were rolling in, and there was thunder off in the distance, but She was determined to get a swim in before the storm arrived. You could already see raindrops hitting the water, but She would not be denied the opportunity to swim.

She jumped in first and then I followed. It was cold, but it felt good. I was immediately reminded of the plug I still had in my ass. It had some buoyancy to it, and felt like it was floating around inside my rectum as I swam. It felt weird, but good. I told Her about it and She laughed of Her evil laughs. “I forgot about that!” She said with a twisted grin.

As we are swimming She comes up to kiss me. I have become accustomed to following Her lead when kissing, and naturally move my lips and tongue wherever She wants them. As She kisses me, She toys with my nipples, grinding them between her fingertips. Sometimes She reaches behind and grabs my ass, or plays around with the plug. I do my best to keep my head above water as She enjoys toying with me.

Eventually the sky began to darken and the rain began to fall hard, so she decided it was time for us to go in. We got O/our towels and went inside to dry off and change. While I was naked, She decided She would do a body inspection.

She wiggles my flabby biceps and tells me we need to do something about them. She wants me to get jacked. I have no idea what that will take, but I will do whatever exercises She tells me to. I will do everything I can to become everything She wants me to be. She also tells me I need to trim my pubes. She reminds me that She is not a big fan of hair. “Thankfully I don’t have that much,” I remind her, and we both point to my three chest hairs and laugh at the same time. I will need to do better about keeping those shaved for Her.

She has me get dressed and get ready for another cooking lesson. She is going to teach me how to make Her macaroni salad. She has me pour us some wine as She looks over the ingredients I brought, per her instructions. I am excited to learn another recipe that I can cook for Her. When She pulls out the olives, we are both reminded of what an incompetent idiot I am.

Having never cooked with or even purchased olives before, all of the jars looked foreign to me, and got the closest thing to a “tall jar of green olives” that I could find. It was a tall jar, and they were green olives, but they were not the kind with pimentos, and they had not been pitted! “Now you are going to have to remove the pits from every single one of these olives,” she said, chuckling to herself. Thankfully, Her disappointment with me getting the wrong thing seemed to be slightly diminished by the thought of my suffering.

I am such a dumb-ass. I should have asked her for clarification when I wasn’t one hundred percent sure exactly what olives to get. She shows me how to remove the pits and I get to work. Even with a freshly shaved head, I am still sweating profusely. She makes me stop to set up a fan to blow on me and grab a towel to wipe off my disgusting face. I don’t know how She puts up with me.

She is completing the rest of the of the steps in the recipe and giving me instruction as I am pitting the damned olives. It takes me so long to remove all of the pits, the whole rest of the process is done before that step has been fully completed.

The greatest way for you to please my Owner is to leave comments on these journals. She expects that you will keep your comments related to the content, rather than verbally ejaculating all over the page. You will show Her the respect that She deserves.

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