According to Mistress' directions, I am wearing a pair of pouch briefs, and between Her ministrations earlier and my position here, my cock is filling...the pouch.The woman, looking bored, takes out a cloth tape measure and runs it around my waist, jots a number down, then wraps it around my hips, sliding the tape across the front of my pouch and catching it under the head of my cock. She writes down another number, then holds one end of the tape just under my navel and slides the other end down. " Not Angus?" We'd rather not, do you mind?" No, not at all," she assured him. The point was moot anyway; MacPherson had busied himself non-stop at the bridge console ever since she'd restored him to his rank, running simulation after simulation in hopes of finding even the slightest advantage to cut back on the time they'd need to reach worm speed. He'd made, she knew, some headway, but he was still at it and she knew he'd be loathe to interrupt his work for even the two hours or so this would. More

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