What's in the box?

There was a package delivered to my door last night. As is my habit I always check the front porch area before locking up before going to bed. I was tired and figured it was a Christmas gift (which it was, sort of), so I didn’t open it.

The coffee was still dripping, and the world hadn’t quite come into focus yet, but there was the unopened box sitting on my kitchen table. I checked the label and the return address looked familiar, but I was still groggy so it didn’t register where I had seen that address before.

The beeper on my coffee maker went off, so I knew my brew was ready. It smelled heavenly. I didn’t see the urgency, so getting caffeinated was top priority. Little did I know that inside the package was something that could wake me up instantly much faster than java.

My senses started coming back after a few sips, as did my curiosity. When I was sufficiently alert, I turned my attention to the box, and stared at the return address. Then it hit me like a ton of bricks and 1000 memories flooded my head at the same time. The package was sent by Mistress Cat.

The last time I had seen her was about a year ago, and at that time she was unceremoniously dumping me in favor of her lesbian lover. If you are new here, I have posted a dozen times or so about her in 2021 entries. She was ice cold when she dismissed me, so I figured I’d never see or hear from her again. I was wrong.

My first thought was that the package contained trouble. The best course of action would be not to open it, rather return to sender immediately. I sighed and continued to sip coffee debating on what to do. Why the hell is she contacting me out of the blue after breakup time of nearly a year? This doesn’t make any sense.

Then I got to thinking that perhaps she had found something of mine that I had left at her place and was returning to me. If that was the case, it would be flat out rude to return the box unopened. Still, I wasn’t sure and decided to think it through in the shower and get ready for work.

The water felt invigorating as I lathered up. My mind was awake now, and as I thought about her my body followed. I didn’t masturbate but just looked down at my swollen, soapy cock in wonderment. Yeah, she still has that effect on me.

I finished showering and got dressed. I considered leaving the package on the kitchen table for a few days and dealing with it after I had a chance to thoroughly think it through. However, my curiosity got the best of me. Have you ever done the wrong thing, knowing it is the wrong thing, but did it anyway? Yeah, that’s me.

I procured a box cutter and cut along the edges so as not to damage anything inside. There was some bubble wrap inside as filler, but on top was an envelope with the sub name she had given me, “Mouse”. I opened the envelope and removed a three-page hand-written letter.

I started reading very slowly, analyzing every sentence… every word. There were a lot of details in her composition, the type of details that she never shared with me when we were together. She told me about her divorce, and that she wasn’t over it when we were together. She also shared that she was no longer with her lesbian partner (Last I heard they were getting married). It was sort of an apology without really apologizing. There was a lot more blah, blah; but the last two paragraphs were about our time together and how much she misses having me around. At the end she said she wants to try again.

Damn her.

I remember our relationship a bit differently. Beyond the incredible peggings which was her favorite way to dominate me, there wasn’t much of a relationship at all. She never introduced me to her friends or family. We always spent holidays apart. She was busy all the time, so basically when she could clear an hour or two, we got together for a session. To be honest I’ve had deeper relationships with pro Dommes who work on a clock if that tells you something.

And she knew I wanted more. I made that very clear to her. The harder I tried to pull her closer, the harder she pushed me away. I think it was a relief for both of us to end it, and I accepted that there was someone else she cared for more. That’s life, so you move on.

I put the letter down to see what else was in the box. I removed the bubble wrap and found a smaller box with a sticky note on it that said, “The app is already on my phone. Put it on and call me. Ms. Cat”.

The Cellmate chastity device has the latest and greatest features. It has Bluetooth and can be controlled by a phone app for long distance play. It has a shocker with mild to severe settings and it can be set on a timer. There is also one click unlocking, so no keeping up with a key. The O-ring is solid metal so the only other way to get out of it without using the app is bolt cutters. It’s fucking cool looking and light years ahead of a cheapo plastic device. She knew I would love it, but I’m not sure I’ll ever put it on.

She’s being presumptuous that I will come running back to her. I’m not closing my mind to the possibility, but I would want things to be different. I’m submissive and obedient, but in matters of the heart I must have a say. I won’t be compartmentalized like I was before. I want a bigger role in her life.

Plus, I feel weird about my Florida Domme who I had planned to visit in January. My goal isn’t to collect a Mistress in every state. One will do just fine.

So basically, my head is a complete mess right now. At some point I’ll have to call her, even if it’s just “thanks, but no thanks”. I want to talk to her, and yet I’m dreading it.