I love how hungry you are

VenusButterflyThis was the text I received from her this morning after I had shared a 4 image series of pics, one of which is included here. And indeed, I am hungry. She’s denied me for over 100 days. And last night, while our reunion was sleepy and tired and we both desired deep slumber, she also was aroused by my naked body next to hers, my gentle petting of her pussy, my nuzzling her arm, petting her body… I could tell she had already touched herself, as I could smell her while she pet my face.

We caught up from our weekends apart, I pet and nuzzled her, she grew sleepy. She got up to go to the bathroom before we both settled in for sleep. I placed her body pillow in the right position, set the covers to accept her into the bed, moved her squishy pillow to the right spot. She returned, got into bed and her hand grabbed at the back of my head, quickly pulling my head of its pillow and toward her pussy. I cleaned her diligently, thankful to be between her legs and servicing her, as well as pleasuring her. My tongue lapped all around her pussy and then settled a few broad tongued strokes across the top of her clitoral hood, shaking the jewelry that has lived there for years. Now her hand pulled at my hair again, pulling me up, moving my body in between her legs, my hard cock ready to be inside.

“May I, Ma’am?” I asked as I wet the head with my hand.

She breathed out the word “Yes” and I was in her before the “s” faded. “Good boy!” she breathed out. I thrust twice and pulled back, already close to the edge. Gradually I was able to fuck her, one thrust at a time, her fingers danced on her clit while I did so.

“How does it feel to fuck without cumming for 102 days?”

“It’s intense, I can barely keep myself calm enough.”

“How long have I denied you?”

“102 days Ma’am.”

“Say it, say it all… ”

“You’ve denied me for over 100 days Ma’am. I haven’t cum in over 100 days.”

“No, you haven’t. Maybe you’ll never cum again… ” I pulled out. “Put it back in!”

“I can’t! I’m too close Ma’am, it’s been over 100 days.”

“Over 100 days of denial pup?” she was enjoying this as much as I was.

“Yes Ma’am” I whimpered, almost whining.

“100 days of no cumming. Oh those balls are so full, I can feel how heavy they are. Fuck me, pup!” I slid in, then out again. “FUCK ME, PUP!” I slid in and out again.

Her orgasm hit her quickly. Surprised, she had just pushed herself over the edge. She was falling down the other side of the mountain head over heels. I breathed deeply and entered her again, she squeezed my cock, I held steady. She cried out, I held steady. I slid in just a bit deeper, she squeezed me hard and thrashed. When she could breathe again, she uttered “Good. Boy!” I had to pull out. She uttered dismay at my leaving her. I apologized.

“Do you need cleaning, Ma’am?”

“Yes, pup, clean me.” I did, sliding from my cock between her legs to my mouth, where I cleaned her. Soon we were spooned again together, under the covers.

Now I felt it. I felt it within me. She heard me moan and I moved slowly against her, I knew what was in me, coupling with her after being away for two nights made this body to body intimacy grow this in me. I asked. “May I orgasm, Ma’am?”

“Yes, pup.” I let down the internal barrier holding back my orgasm. I let the energy cycle around in its circular path. The energy flowed and built. I was close, I could feel it. My cock swelled and rubbed against her. I clutched her tightly, spooning her, my hand on her breast. I was close. I asked her “please…  how many days… will I ever cum again?” She knew where I was going, she helped push me to the edge.

“102 days pup. One Hundred and Two.” I pulled her tightly into me. I tensed. “I don’t know that you ever need to cum again, pup. I don’t know why I need that. That mess. I get all I want from that cock and I don’t think I need any more than that pup. No, I don’t think you’ll ever need to cum again, pup.” And from that edge she pushed me to, those last sentences pushed me over the edge. While she had rolled down a mountain when she went over the edge minutes before, I fell off a cliff, suspended in mid-air, my entire body grabbed at her, my arms, legs, hips, cock, hands, everything. I grabbed tightly at her. Falling yet suspended and then WHAM, I hit the ground, my body shaking violently as I hit, the orgasm washing through me, over me, it made me shake so intensely.

I remembered to breathe, as best I could. I loosened my grip. I thanked her. One decent aftershock and we were in bed together, spooned, ready for bed, we slumbered, we slept. I’m not sure when I moved again, but it felt like I was wrapped in her for 8 hours.

Used

Last night, she woke late, needing me. Needing me inside her. And she took me in, used me, pleasured herself, brought me to the edge a couple times, then she simply rolled over, clutched her pillow and went to sleep. My cock, dripping and hard, throbbed as she rolled over away from me. I sidled up to her, as best I could with my cock pushing straight out away from me, tucking it down. I rubbed her back for less than a minute and she was asleep. This was, in fact, the second time she had used me as her sex toy that day.

I rolled onto my back, stroked my cock – only to frustrate myself further. Still no cumming allowed, I ended up just teasing myself to the edge before my brain would let me relax enough to sleep.

It’s been 95 days today since I’ve ejaculated. She likes that a lot. She likes the number 100 a lot. But she’s getting restless.

 

Down boy…

Busy Sunday. Lots of errands, lots of work. Project here, project there. They bounce off each other all day, taking moments when they can.

He walks into the bedroom.

“Kneel. Here.” She points to the floor at the foot of the bed. He kneels. He wears a bandana, shirt, jeans and her panties, but she doesn’t know about the last part.

She steps to the foot of the bed, bends over to lay her torso on it and simultaneously pushes her pants and panties down.

“Kiss my ass, boy.” He does. Reverently placing kiss after kiss on both her cheeks. His hands hold her hips, then slide up under her sweatshirt and caress her breasts.

“Clean me.” His tongue now into action, he presses it into her pussy, lapping at her. Some sweat, some piss, just the days worth of woman that is on her.

“Deeper.” He pushes deeper, his nose buried, his breathing stopped while he delves deep.

“Now up…” He pulls back from her and asks her to repeat, it’s hard to hear when one’s face is deep in a pussy. “My ass pup, clean.” He utters a brief acknowledgement and settles in between her cheeks to clean. She’s never that dirty but he knows it’s her. He knows he’s cleaning her in a most intimate way.

Again he hears “Deeper” and he pushes his tongue in deeply, again his breathing paused while he delves in deep, gently fucking her hole with his tongue. He tips his head up, letting his nose get a breath of air into him and returns to the task. A belt must have been on the bed, or in her hands, and now it’s pulling at the back of his neck, pulling him deeply into her, deeper still. His tongue and jaw hurt. She pulls hard, pushing back against him, smothering him. He sputters out air but gets none in. She tortures him like this for just a few seconds, but when one doesn’t receive new oxygen, seconds have a more noticeable duration.

She releases him. He falls back on his haunches, still touching her hips. He holds himself by holding her. Relieved for the air, he moves to continue where he left off, but she tells him “Stay” as she stands, straightens herself and pulls up her clothes. He starts to get up and she stops him. “No, pup. Stay. Stay kneeling right there until I leave the room and that cock stops sticking out so obviously.”

He does just that, waiting for his cock to soften, he inhales her scent and smiles. Lucky dog.

Write or not…

Sometimes I think “Well hey, that’s a great idea for a story… ” and I login to the blog and start writing and then say “Well, are we just a wank fodder blog? I can’t write this. I’ll end up doing nothing but writing fantasies… ” and then I close the window and don’t write anything. But…. writing is writing. And damn it, I should write.

So, well, unsure. I know we don’t have a big audience, but I also don’t know what the audience wants. I’ve kind of done this as a “build it and they will come” thing, as well as a place to write out my thoughts, but I haven’t been doing all that.

Just unsure of where to go with it…

 

So, if you want to hear the fantasy spurred on by my visit to the nutritionist this morning, let me know! If you’re like to hear something else, tell me that. For now, I’ll just leave this tiny writing here in my indecisiveness.

“Mouth!”

This morning, I quipped something to Madame while I sat at the table, sipping my coffee and doing my typical morning wake up routine.

“Okay, mouth!” was her equally terse reply.

And that was it.

But then, my mind went elsewhere. In my mind, it continued more like this.

Madame soon returned into the dining room and stood in front of me. I looked up. “That mouth of yours is going to get you into trouble. In fact, it has. Up! Now!” She pulled me by my robe to get me up, then moved her grip to the tip of my cock, squeezing it tightly and pulling me to follow her. My robe fluttered open and loose as she walked me, her feet stomping, into the bedroom. Releasing her grip on my cock she grabbed the back of my head, pushed me against the bed and bent me over. “Down there. Don’t fucking move.”

She walked out of the room for a minute and then returned, locking the door behind her. I stayed in position, bent over the bed at the waist, my head turned to the right as my left cheek rested on the covers. Her hand grabbed my hair roughly. “Open!” she barked. I opened and into my mouth went a bar of soap. “I can’t believe you need to be reminded so soon. Didn’t I just beat you for your mouth a few days ago? Did you learn nothing? I don’t have time to be correcting you every time. And the roommates sure as hell don’t need to hear this so you’re going to keep quiet. Don’t you dare scream, even if you want to. And don’t you dare move.”

She walked behind me and left me on the bed, the soap between my teeth. I knew she was grabbing a cane from the little niche behind the dresser.

She spoke quietly but sternly as she reminded me “You keep quiet. I don’t want to hear anything from you. And I don’t have time for this, so I’m just going to cane you as much as I damn well think is appropriate.” I whimpered.

Normally our canings are slow and steady, giving one’s body time to react to each of the strokes as they reverberate through the body. But this time, she would give me no such rest. She beat me, hard, and just whipped at my ass incessantly. I couldn’t even count as the fire of the cane went through my ass, I tried to grit my teeth but only got more soap for my efforts. I wanted to cry out, but could not. 10, 20, 30 swats, she just kept at it. I really lost track but I think she laid down 40 or so strokes to my ass. She did nothing to spread them out, they all landed solidly in the middle of my ass, all overlapping and raising some proud welts immediately.

She had finished, my ass was on fire, drool dripped onto the bed from the end of the bar of soap. She grabbed my hair and pulled me up off the bed, but only far enough to put me on my knees in front of the bed. She wrenched my head back. I coughed and sputtered with the soap in my mouth as the drool tried to slide into my throat. “Cry if you want, pup, but do not yell. Do not dare to touch your ass. Crawl over to wall, put your forehead against it and you just kneel there until I come back. And don’t drop that soap.” As I weakly crawled across the floor, she stripped me of the robe as I moved, leaving me naked and kneeling in front of the wall.

 

Okay, so that’s a fantasy, perhaps I came up with more as I wrote it, but the basic premise of her not putting up with my being mouthy is what was in my head. And whipping my ass rapidly with a cane, demanding my quiet due to roommates, and putting me “in the corner” or against the wall, was the end point. At the table with my thoughts, my cock swelled. But in the fantasy, up against the wall, my cock retreated, no signs of arousal. This was a punishment and minutes later, the fire in my ass would feel exactly like a punishment.

The reality is that we are getting ready to have time apart in the coming week. And we DO have roommates who have to be considered. And one of the roommates was in the bathroom, so the soap would have been an issue. And even being quiet, with the bathroom right next to our room, that would be an issue too. So we have these limits. But I wouldn’t begrudge her the idea of punishing me for being tart with her. Perhaps, reading this, she might see it and want to enact such a punishment in future infractions. Of course, I also don’t want to be her petulant child! Just her pet. ;) So, maybe we just talk more about it later. And maybe, the next time I’m short with her, I’ll find myself with a mouthful.

A brief moment

She’s been working hard on a project for work which I can’t really help her with. She’s stressed and has worked on it for the past few nights, camping at the dining room table and working on a presentation. I had a lot of time in the car for work today and ended up coming home late.

I came home, changed, sat to relax on the couch and she came over for a kiss and a break from her work. I held her hand, she stood in front of me and bent over to kiss me. It was a nice little break for her. When she was done, she stood, turned away from me and pushed her PJs down, exposing her bottom. I leaned forward and kissed her ass, planting multiple kisses on both her cheeks. She bent forward. I removed my glasses and leaned in deeper, pushing my nose between her cheeks, opening her to my tongue and I cleaned her, as was her wish from how she signaled me. I pulled her into me to reach deeper and clean her well. She let out a nice deep breath and then stood. “Good boy” was all she said as she patted me on the head and pulled her PJs back up.

It’s the little things…

Our evolving relationship

Now she has me tracked for location and weight and food. I have my points, I spend them on food, I eat, I drink, I, hopefully, lose weight. This is good. I have a goal of losing some 37 pounds. It’s a bold goal and would bring me to a weight I have seen in over a decade. Or more.

This week, she told me “I think you need to be locked up again. I think you need to be locked and not allowed to cum until you make your goal… ” I’ve been denied ejaculation for two months already (2/2) though I’ve only been locked for a couple weeks during that time. But those two weeks went by easily without any of the discomfort I’ve had in the past with chastity. So I might be back up to taking longer lockup periods.

I know she’s threatened such actions before – denying me for an undefined period, which is where I am now. I have no idea when she will let me cum again. She likes me here. Last night she said “You’re hungry” and I am. I’m hungry and desperate for release. She loves teasing me and taunting me with denial. She edged me so many times last night. With barely her words and just a little bit of pressure on the head of my cock she had me on edge and pulling away from her to avoid stimulation. For minutes I was on edge, just a touch away from spilling.

So now I wonder, will she follow through on this threat. Will I weigh 37 pounds less then next time I spill my cum? Will I be in a new wardrobe? Will I get a great reward? Or will she deny me even having hit my goal? Or will she make me spill before then, despite her threats? I like not knowing whether she’s going to follow through or not. It’s appealing. It’s arousing!

Tonight I’ve been told to make sure that Reba (our masturbation sleeve) is available to her with whatever lube is needed. So she intends to tease me a lot tonight.

Things are heating up. I am putty in her hands, but perhaps an ever shrinking sized ball of putty. ;)

Tracked!

She’s tracking me more now. I wear two collars. One, a lovely stainless steel shackle and leather bracelet that gets removed only for my shower each day. But this weekend she added another collar. This one, on the other wrist, tracks my movements. She tracks my steps. There’s a goal of 5000 steps a day right now. I may come up short today.

She also tracks all that I eat and drink. I have a certain number of points per day I’m allowed to eat. I also have the ability to have some other points during the week, but I’m trying to keep as close to the points allotted as possible.

See, here’s the thing. Before last year’s DO Fusion, I wanted to weigh less than 200 pounds. I…. didn’t quite make it. I was close at 203. And then we went to camp and we had summer and cocktails and beaches and BBQ and…. oh so many delicious things. And now last week, I find myself at my highest recorded weight, over 225. And that’s not acceptable to me. And it’s not acceptable to her.

So, she told me “I’d like you to do this… ” and indicated my signing up for the Weight Watchers online program – just a few bucks a month for the app to track all I eat and set goals.

“I’d like Her to insist on it.”

“Then consider it insisted on. You’ll download and install the app by Sunday. And you’ll start Monday.”

“Yes Ma’am” I replied with a smile.

So, we’ve walked a couple times, which I think is a good predecessor to my getting back running again. If I start by running, I’ll blow out my system again (legs, hip, calves) so I’m going to go with walking first. Then I’ll add the running again later. We’ve started eating better. I had a really really crappy night last night, getting far too hungry and getting hangry. I was no fun. And yet, I ended up with enough points to spend at the end of the day that I spent the rest on Vodka. 4.5 ounces of vodka. And a little vermouth and a couple olives too. Oh that was lovely. And took the edge off. And let me be me again.

I know that changing the diet will be a different place to be. I’ve done it before. I felt SO good after deleting sugar from my diet. It’s so hard to avoid, but I did it for a couple months. Oh wow did it change me. And then I fell off the wagon and ate “all the things”. I need to make the change. I’ll forgive myself the week of camp – I have to. But I’ll still exercise.

And here’s another part of it. She and I (well, let’s be honest, the lowercase she and I) are doing this together as a couple – and that can make all the difference. I was crappy last night about it all. And she was good and patient, though I could tell she was hating my attitude. And then I got better and she got worse. So the together part is very good for the both of us. I really think it can make us succeed where we’ve failed in the past. It’s a good thing to do together and bring us closer. Well, without all the inches in the way, we’ll be far closer! :)

I also look forward to, once She gets through a small procedure that will alleviate some discomfort for her, having her be more of a dominant woman in regard to detailing what I will and will not be eating and how I will or will not be exercising. And I also look forward to her using sex to get her way about it. I can easily see her using rewards of sex for my good behavior and even maybe some of my preferred funishments as incentive as well. As far as punishment, well, lack of play will certainly be a punishment! And I can see her using THAT as well. I can see her really jumping forward as her confidence rises, my compliance becomes a little easier (I have lots of food habits to break!) and we start succeeding together.

So, I’ll wear the collars and be tracked all the live long day if she wants. I’m more than happy to be that dog for her. And hopefully by the time we get to camp I’ll be less of a belly than I am now, and get into a healthier place.

Another day, another day, another day

I fully expected that she’s unlock her cock once she returned from her trip to sunny climes, but she hasn’t. So I find myself modifying the calendar entry on our shared google calendar. Each day, at some point, I pop open the target item “Dog locked” and change the close date. It’s usually time stamped for 6 pm, which might be the earliest she would unlock me in the evening, sometimes it’s elsewhere, but it’s just adding another day.

She just keeps adding one more day – so I keep adding one more day. I keep getting to remind myself, each day, where I am reminded I am hers, the cock between my legs is hers, and I am locked or released depending on her whim, not mine.

Each night since she’s been back, she’s had no problem in laying down, me behind her, her left hand reaching for, finding, cupping and holding her cock and balls, now encased in steel and subject to her desires completely.

The lock makes a difference. I know that, even when unlocked, my cock is hers, but she’s never restricted me from stroking her cock, so long as I don’t cum. In fact, in the mornings when I drowsily wake up, I’ll often stroke the cock because it feels good and it’s a lovely way to wake up. But she doesn’t restrict it. But now, under lock and key, that’s restricted completely.

And again, each day I’m reminded. One more day. And I smile, every time. Thank you, Ma’am. ;)

Flattered

He strokes

He strokes

To know that someone actually grabbed their cock, stroked it and made it cum because of something you wrote is a pretty cool feeling.

I’m unsure if I’m jealous of this person because I’m locked and unable to even touch Her cock right now, but I wouldn’t put it past me. The lucky bastid!