Labor Day

She let me sleep in, but I woke up, made the bed, removed my collar and joined the rest of the house, made my own coffee, as there was no more prepped and joined the day.

She worked on dealing with some freecycle things.

I started the laundry.

She worked on some logistics for her father and his new place.

I mopped the kitchen floor.

She may have even ducked into the bedroom to jill off while I was working on cleaning the grill.

I took care of the dishes in the dishwasher, sink and drainboard.

I fixed her (and I) brunch.

She worked on her fantasy football team.

I shaved my cock and balls at her command, then showered, then put the shower curtain into the last load of laundry.

I remain at home, no car, she is out helping her father with some things. I am continuing to do laundry, cleaning up our room and then working on some organizing in the mudroom while she’s gone. As we have roommates around, I’m not naked, but I am wearing nothing but my slave pants.

She will come home, I will serve her a cocktail, I will remain in my slave pants and I will serve all the other folks who are coming over some drinks as well, while she socializes and works with her brother on fine tuning her fantasy football team

She gave me some cane strokes and a spanking.

She gave me some cane strokes and a spanking. Fresh spanking, fresh flowers, fresh veggies. All good!

Some might say I’m whipped – well, I wasn’t, but I was caned and spanked. And if some want to call me pussy whipped, I’m perfectly okay with that. I don’t mind. I am happy to serve my lovely Mistress and she keeps me happy by grabbing my cock once in a while and whispering into my ear as she jacks me off, bringing me to where I beg her to STOP and then let’s go, walks away with a smile and tells me the next task on my to-do list, all while the pre-cum drips from the head of my cock.



I have two dogs. Aka, two boys. Two playthings. Two submissive men. One is John, my 24/7 boy. We live together. We’ve been together playing for over 10 years.  If you read the blog on even somewhat of a irregular basis, you know of our years and our adventures.

Not that long ago, Troy came sailing into our lives, a most pleasant addition. Troy is new to power exchanges, to kinky dynamics. He is lovely, sweet, funny, warm, loyal, smart, easy to be around. But my word….that boy is not as leash trained as he needs to be. That toy named troy is a slippery fellow. Not at all maliciously so, for I truly do not believe he resists the feel of a collar. Or the tug of a leash. Instead, he is the kind of pet that you’ll leave loosely tied up outside of a local shop on Main Street as you dash inside to get a cup of coffee. What happens when that happens? Well…

I’ll head into that figurative coffee shop, leaving outside my two dogs. Both tied lightly to a post outside the door. The pet named john will contently lay down. Head on paws, relaxed. He knows well this routine, and he has a wonderful strategy to occupy himself while his Mistress is indoors. My pup (john) knows that with his head resting on paws, and his eyes looking up, he’ll get to see lots of skirts, lots of legs, lots of high heels passing him by. He’ll often find people stopping to pet him, to admire him and his obedience. Most often he lays there, tail wagging, not a worry in the world. He knows I will return from my errand and will delight in seeing him there, waiting obediently.

Pet troy, on the other hand, is a different dog. He is younger, impish, distracted. He is just as happy, just as cute. But he has a knack for slipping out of that collar and away from the rope that secures him. He doesn’t go far, he doesn’t bother anyone. But he’ll wander up and down that sidewalk, nose to the pavement, distracted by the scent of a hot dog vendor, or he’ll follow a pretty lady, not realizing how far he is drifting. His tail wags steadily, he hasn’t quite figured out that a leash is a silent sort of instruction. He knows all the basic commands. “Sit”, “Shake”, “Beg”, “Heel”. He is even getting good at “Bend over”, “Present”. But “Stay” isn’t one he has quiet mastered yet.

And no, I am not at all referring to him cheating. Or being dishonest or disloyal. I am simply talking about a pet that slips off his leash because I don’t think he quiet feels he knows his place yet. To be fair to him, I don’t have him full time, so troy has to be in many different worlds in a week. Perhaps the adjustment is hard for him, I’m not sure. He is not yet taking My commands as gospel. When I say to him on a Monday “Stay. Wait for Me. Good boy.”, he’ll stay in the neighborhood, but he won’t always be at the spot where I expect him to be. I’ll whistle, and he’ll come running back, tail wagging, mud on his nose from the exploring, but not at all realizing that I anticipated him to be where I told him to be. I scowl at this, but smile too. He is lucky he is cute and inexperienced. I don’t feel angry at this. But I am realizing he needs more training. Perhaps not quantity, but rather quality. Quality training for my quality pet. He needs to learn that when I have him with me on the days I have him, his obedience needs to be complete. I will need to tie him tighter, make the collar snugger. My orders will have to be more stern, more direct.

I wonder if he knows I have a shock collar for such training needs. I don’t use it often, because it’s a rather intense form of instruction. But I’m thinking it’s time to break it out of it’s case, charge up the batteries, and give it a test or two.

Troy will respond well to this, I think. He might not like it, but he’ll learn from it. I feel rather certain of dog



Ruff Days!!


My dog crawling around on his hands and knees, seeking a treasure from the sea

I couldn’t resist choosing this as the title. I giggle at it, smiling at the memories that are revealed in the photos for this post, and those memories make me happy.

It’s been a challenging couple of weeks for my pup. I empathize with the curve balls life has thrown him. Nothing insurmountable, nothing that time and patience won’t heal, but still – pain in the ass stuff. Mostly around his car. And travel plans.  And work. And logistics. All first world problems, we know. But still, we can feel it. It squeezes him much differently than I squeeze him. I dare say he likes My pressure much more than life pressure right now.

I’ve worked with care to keep him on a short leash during this time. My dog can have his day, but his upset is only allowed to go so far. He is not permitted to bring cranky into the bed. Like dust on a dog, he must shake it off before getting naked and jumping beneath the covers with me.

The other day we went to a small, local beach that is not widely known. It’s our secret gem right outside of the biggest city in the state. Being Maine, that isn’t too big of a thing, but still… it’s so wonderful to have it. It is really only accessible during low tide, and when the waters retreat, a beautiful little stretch of beach reveals itself to whose who know of its carefully hidden location. If there are 15 people on the beach, it’s crowded. It’s a place where almost anything goes. Small groups of adults will gather with a bottle of wine and a plate of nosh and watch the sail boats go by. Kids can strip down to their underpants and take a quick swim before heading home, and no one cares. And dogs are allowed off leash, at all times.

Nosh at secret beach

Nosh at secret beach

I took my boy there the other day. It was during the height of his crankiness. He probably would have rather stayed home, but I insisted that he come with me. We packed up and off we went. The tide was perfect, the day was stunning. And because dogs are permitted off leash, my boy was under strict orders to be under voice control at all times.

I got him up off his chair and ordered him to find a way to crawl around the beach area on his hands and knees. “But there are people here, all around us” my boy mildly protested. “I don’t care” was my reply. “Find a way to do it, and do it now” was my final answer.

And so he did.

Feigning a make believe interested in exploring up close the tiny sea critters that climb among the rocks when the tide is right, my boy crawled on his hands and knees. I was walking next to him, and to the average onlooker, it appeared as though my man was intently exploring some type of marine biology with intellectual passion, but really, he wasn’t. He was following my softly spoken commands.

Crawl for Me, boy. That’s it… crawl forward on your hands and knees”.

And he did.

Dig in the sand, boy. Find Me a gift. Dig for me. Fetch me a sea present“.

And he did.

Sniff something, pet. Put your face down low, and sniff something for Me“.

He did.

Dig for me, pet. Use that paw, and dig me a hole“.

Of course, he did.

If you’ve been a regular reader of this blog, you’ll know that we aren’t really into puppy play. It is somewhat rare that we actually do this sort of thing. We will use little, endearing dog references, but otherwise, puppy play is not our thing. But on this day, it was. I was enamored at the opportunity to play in public like this. It is one of my favorite things to do. Right out in the open, in public, for anyone to see, my boy was crawling around on his hands and knees, following the softly spoken orders that I gave him. No one seemed to notice. No one seemed to care. People walked by him, engaged in their own conversations, and occasionally someone would smile at the man on his hands and knees, exploring the rocks and seaweed, accompanied by a woman who was taking pictures. The only thing that could have made this better would have been to have him naked, with toy troy next to him. In my mind, and in my imagination, he was very naked. And collared. And leashed. Because even in a playground with few rules such as this one, it’s nice to have order.


Gift from the sea. The sand dollar that my boy found while digging, placed on his back, next to the brand I had placed on his skin a year ago.



My feet, and his hand, as he crawls near the rocks, digging and sniffing.

















Whoops I did it again

Last night, Madame came home late, I was already in bed, but I soon sprang out of bed and helped her undress, kissed her feet as I removed her pants and panties, and followed her to the bedside where she snuggled into the pillows I had already laid out for her. She does love that body pillow, particularly when I’m not in bed with her. Last night, she curled up to that, exposing her back to me while she lay on her right side. At the bed side, I offered up worship of her body with my tongue, then added both my hands to her body and caressed her all over while I cleaned her, then continued to caress her from her neck to shoulder, back, bottom, thighs and calves. She directed me toward her feet, which I also rubbed and kissed lightly for her. A few licks might have escaped as well, but she didn’t seem to mind.

“Is all this attention to make up for your statement earlier?”

“Partly Ma’am, but not completely.” I had made comments relating to the status of our relationship with far too much humor and not enough forethought, which I realize were inappropriate. Sometimes my “comfortable humor” gets too uncomfortable for other folks – this was one of those times.

I continued rubbing her and while we talked, she tossed the end of the leash to me, which I clipped onto her collar, already around my neck. I rubbed, we chatted. I realized my error and she wasn’t very upset, but it’s something I’ll need to watch in the future. Unfortunately, one can’t say “Oh, I’m her slave… ” when someone mistakenly addresses you as “husband”, so you have to say something else.

Soon she pulled on the leash and directed me to join her in bed, as previous I was simply kneeling in the small space between the wall and the bed. It’s one of those spaces so small that to turn around while kneeling takes some significant effort, as you cannot simply turn, but you must get up, turn, then back down again.

I joined her in bed, continued rubbing her body and we talked. I mentioned a story I had read earlier that evening on the HerPiggy tumblr which really roused the prurient interest in me and I gave her an ever brief synopsis of the story. It really was arousing and I admitted to her of my jerking off to the story while I read it. I rubbed her as I talked, she lay there asking some small questions to clarify the story line for herself, and did not touch me at all.

We settled in a little more. She moved from up on her left side to a more prone position on the bed, which frees up her left hand. She grasped at my balls and I moved to get into just that right spot where we fit perfectly together. There were some other points of conversation, not related to the story, but soon we were both close to sleep and yet I was still highly aroused. I mentioned this to her. “Ma’am?”

“Yes, pup?”

“I think I could have an orgasm right now. May I?”

“Yes, pup” she replied, with a smile in her voice and a squeeze of my balls. And that squeeze was all it took. A couple deep breaths and I was soon pushing myself into a very strong orgasm. I grabbed Mistresses pillow with my right hand, though most of it was under her and my own pillow in my left and my body shook from head to toe. I buried my face into my own pillow as the feelings grew more intense and I cried out. I willed myself to end the orgasm, as I knew I could have kept going for far longer. I felt her squeezing my balls as I came down, acknowledging my pleasure with her own hand.

“Thank you, Ma’am.”

“You’re welcome, pup.”

“That was a strong one.”

“Indeed pup. Good job on not hurting me.”

“Yes Ma’am. I’ve tried to remain aware, even when I’m losing my mind.” (I’ve sometimes squeezed her a little too hard while in the throes of orgasm)

I pet her back, her bottom, her shoulders. She squeezed my balls one last time and I heard the tell tales breathing that told me she was asleep. I pet her longer, let her fall deeper into her slumber and then turned my head into my own pillow as I let myself wander into that same place.

New office

Madame has been moved to an actual office at work. No longer will she be out in the pool of people, not even cubicle walls to shield prying eyes, but she will be in an office. With a door. That locks. And there’s even a white noise generator outside her office as well!

This morning I was able to visit as I am still dealing with my car issues and am taking her car for the day. So I dropped her off this morning and she got to show me her office. Of course, it needs her touch to make it her space, but we did close the door. And I pulled the blinds on the door to their shut position. And I knelt on the floor in front of her and kissed her toes. But she watched the door the whole time.

I’m quite sure that Madame’s accommodations at her office are nothing like those at UCTMW Molly’s office, wherein she’ll have Mick lapping at the clean shaven folds. No, Madame’s blinds on the door are far too inadequate, people can peer in easily. There is no extra furniture, just a desk and office chair, not quite suitable to the needs of a hungry and horny Mistress. Of course, the floor is just fine for this dog, but Madame’s comfort is of concern. She did whisper to me “I’m going to fuck you in here some day”. So, I have to imagine better blinds on the door will be forthcoming.


The last time I had a full on, full fledged orgasm with ejaculation was on Leap Day this year. That was 183 days ago. On a leap year, that’s half a year. This morning, she teased me again, let me inside her and let me beg to cum, which she completely denied.

We are not very big on counting. We don’t count the orgasms we each have. She doesn’t insist that I know how many days I’m locked up. There are no chastity or orgasm reports here like in other FLRs. Those things are great for those who want that level of detail and that level of control. Madame doesn’t need that, so that’s why we don’t do it. She does have me put all my cumming and chastity times on a calendar we keep (Hooray google apps!) but we don’t total it all up.

We have both enjoyed this game of denial very much. It’s been a great target to work toward. It’s been a great fantasy to talk about it being permanent or even going into “let’s stop talking months and just focus on years”. But…

She likes me cumming. I like me cumming. Sometimes, when we’re switchy, she even (oh, dare I say so in a FLR blog??) enjoys blowjobs that end very happy for me and very happy for her smiling face. She has indicated that we’ll be concluding this period of denial soon. She won’t say exactly when and I don’t want her to, but she is ready for other games where she can control me.

What I do notice is that when one plays games with lengthy periods of time, there comes an acceptance of the situation. It is freeing when this happens. I don’t have to wonder if today is the day because I know that I’m simply going to be denied. A month or so ago when she said “Not until we hit half a year… ” my level of acceptance was reinforced. There was no wondering at all. I knew it wouldn’t be the day. But now that we’re at this milestone, I’m back to that wondering. Will she take her prize tonight? Or after this work week? Wait, we’re going to travel this weekend with kids around. Not this weekend. Next week? Next weekend? In private? Outside? In front of a crowd? If we headed to camp, I would have to imagine she’d make a sign about this and invite people to watch. ;) I imagine she might even make a game of it. “Let’s see how far he can shoot!”

Long term gives way to acceptance. The same can be said with chastity as well. You don’t have to wonder if you’ll be locked when you’ve been locked for a month or two straight. Sure, there might be cleaning, but there certainly won’t be any wanking. You’re simply locked. You accept it as normal – as who you are.

So, I’m not sure when this milestone ends but I’m happy we have played it out this far. I like having reached her goal for me. It feels good to hit such a spot. I’m happy with it. I’ll be happy when I cum too. Sometimes I feel regret over cumming, or guilt, but this time, I’m looking forward to it – to having the teasing end finally and get to experience cumming again.

She went to bed…

She used me well last night. It was a busy weekend for us both, but she settled in last night, used my cock for her pleasure and told me to rub her back after she rolled away from me, dislodging me from within her.

A few minutes into rubbing her back, she spoke. “I have to pee, but I don’t want to leave the bed.”

“How can I help?” I helpfully inquired.

“Get over here” she replied. I lay on my back on the bed, my head hanging off the side. She covered my mouth with her pussy. I did the best I could.

She never left the bedroom and yet, now she didn’t have to visit our bathroom. While it wasn’t perfect service, I did my best. She was pleased and that’s what counts.


She nearly always gets up first in the morning. It’s due to work schedules, mostly, but she is a morning person as well, where I am not. But then, she’s not going to be staying up to midnight or 1 am hacking on a server, so we have each our strengths.

This morning I was awakened with her hand in my hair, pulling it, pulling me. The edge of the bed is where I ended up, my head hanging over it and before I could even start my eyes focusing they were covered with pussy.

My tongue stuck out dutifully, she used my mouth to wipe off her pussy. I’m guessing she came to me directly from the bathroom. Soon I was tapping her thighs to let her know I needed air. She ignored me. I tapped again, she pulled harder, closing off my breathing. I tried to get in just one gasp, but she had too tight a hold, her thighs pressed around my head so I couldn’t turn and could go up any further, so I suffered without air. She allowed me a quick gasp, so I did, but then she pulled my face back into her. I tapped her thigh again, with great urgency. TAP TAP TAP! She held me tight to her pussy. I struggled then, resigned, I loosened and prepared myself to pass out. She let go. I breathed deeply.

After I caught my breath, she presented her ass to me (meaning, she sat down on my tongue), which I dutifully cleaned. My cock thickened as I did so, exactly what she wanted.

She climbed up on the bed and quickly sank down on my cock. She moaned and groaned triumphantly, claiming her toy for her own. “Good boy… good fucktoy” she whispered in that voice of hers. “What a responsive fucktoy this morning… good boy” Soon I was at the edge and telling her I was close, but she didn’t care, she continued to ride until I blurted out “STOP!” and she did. She played this way for some time, riding, stopping, listening to me whimper. She told me how much she enjoyed hearing my suffering. “Suffer for me, pup. Suffer. I love those whimpers… ” and suffer I did, if you can call experiencing such great pleasure suffering, but while being kept on the edge of orgasm for half a year, it does become suffering.

Eventually she took me to the edge just the right amount and the bucket (remember the bucket analogy?) started to spill. She slipped off of me and my cock just as she felt my cock pulse. It will do that, it turns a little pre-cum into a little more than pre-cum, wherein the cock will leak actual cum. She had enough time to dismount and turn before she saw the cum drip right out of her cock and onto my belly.

Scooping it up, she also milked my cock with her fist, gathered up that cum and planted it directly on my lips, then some on my tongue, then smeared the rest on my face.

“It’s quarter to eight, you need to get up now.”

I lay on the bed for a minute or so before I got up and started making the bed.

Damn it this woman is hot. And cruel. And beautiful. And sexy. And I love all of her torture. Day 183 is Tuesday. I’m wondering if there will be fireworks or not.

It’s the thought…

Not that counts, but it’s the thought that carries us through the day.

I know that I was rude or disobedient to fuck her this morning, but she always says that she likes when I follow through with my threats.

“If you don’t get up now, you’re going to get fucked”

She snoozed in bed. “Last warning… ”

She barely flipped her hair at me.

So, I proceeded to get up off my own drowsy butt, climb over her body and start positioning her body. She, laying on her left side. Her left leg straight, right leg bent, leaving herself open to me. “You’re not even hard!” she tried to combat my advances with this minor taunt.

“But I will be.” And I was. And then I made my hand wet, her pussy wet, my cock wet and slid in. She groaned.

She knew it was inevitable and even if her left hand tried to scratch at me, she wanted it and she could have easily either gotten away or told me to heel.

So I fucked her. I got to a point of where I was really pounding her. And then I started getting too close to cumming, so I slowed down. The bucket, being so jostled, spilled a little over the top of itself, like any bucket does, she felt it, I felt it, neither of us cared. I grabbed her phone and took a couple pictures that she could see how I see things from up there, and I pressed deep into her.

And somewhere, hours from now, when she’s busy at work or dealing with something else in her very hectic life, she’ll think back to this morning. She’ll grin at her own self for lying there and thinking “He’s not going to fuck me.” and then “Oh God, he’s going to fuck me!” and then “Oh good, he’s fucking me!”. She’ll smile. Maybe she’ll look at her phone and see me fucking her. But she’ll smile at the thought of the awesome love we share, our playfulness, our sexiness, the beauty we share between us morning, noon and night. Oh that smile.

If I’m lucky, she’ll send me a text to let me know that she is thinking about it.

(The admin of the site apologizes for the lack of a picture to accompany this post, but finding just the right image to show our position is not possible this morning. Be assured that the admin will be summarily punished later)

Post from Troy (part II)

It’s late fall 2015 and as we continue getting to know each other, the holidays creep into our lives.  This can be tricky for anyone in a triad as life seems to involve more time with vanilla family and friends, making a triad sometimes awkward and difficult to explain to some people.  I find we have to leave one of us out in situations where our lifestyle is simply not appropriate for public knowledge.  Think company Christmas parties for example….”Hi this is my girlfriend Chloe and my boyfriend John” WOW that would have the water cooler gossip folks talking! We made do, however.  We gave each other significant space for our individual family and work obligations and included one another when appropriate.  We certainly enjoyed some quality Fmm CFNM frolicking times in private together (Grins)!

One holiday gathering that was particularly memorable was a ladies only gift wrapping party at their house (Remember, I live less than 2 miles away but we do not cohabitate).  john and I were in complete service mode – although very discreetly.  We wore our collars on our ankles, covered by our pants…john in slave (Thai fishing) pants, me in jeans (because at this time I had yet been provided with slave pants from Ms. Chloe). There was no obvious outward display of our submissive roles outside of the very attentive service we provided to her and her guests. I was introduced to many of Ms. Chloe’s girlfriends that evening and even some family members.  I didn’t learn till after the party was over that several attendees knew of our exact situation and my role in our newly formed relationship. This was quite exciting actually and made me giggle a bit.  You see, I can be a bit bratty sometimes and often giggle in uncomfortable yet exciting scenarios like this… this bratty behavior has resulted in a deserved spanking or two by Ms. Chloe; this was  a giggle moment, but I digress.  john and I set up wrapping tables, handed out tape, paper and ribbons, kept wine glasses topped off, served snacks and made ourselves useful to the very lovely ladies in attendance (6 total as I recall).  This was one of the first times that John and I worked as a service team together to please Ms. Chloe.  Sure, there were stumbles on my part.  This is a new space, someone else’s kitchen, lots of Ms. Chloe’s preferences to still learn about and all new people to figure out.  But it was very fun and we continued to learn more about each other. I continued being mentored by john on how Ms. Chloe likes things done… from the way her cocktails are made to the way her towels are to be folded.  She likes things done VERY PROPERLY and has very high standards and I needed to learn exactly how to meet these service related expectations if I was to last.  That evening I was also told by Ms. Chloe that I was to have a full STD screening if I was to ever to play sexually with them (or their friends) as not only knowing one’s STD status is irresponsible and remaining disease free is very important to our triad… Pressure!

It was also around this time that I was made aware of “Kinky Camp”  and asked by Ms. Chloe if I would be available to attend it with them in June.  What, you ask, is this place?  It was described to me as a clothing optional, lifestyle tolerant summer camp experience filled with old friends, fellow kinksters, and the opportunity to explore many new sexual experiences.  Ms. Chloe and john have attended this event for years as a couple and are well known there.  If I was to attend as their toy, I would have to be on my best behavior as not to in any way embarrass Ms. Chloe. We would share a cabin with many others and share one king size bed with john and I sleeping naked on each side of Ms. Chloe for three spectacular nights. Perfect!  I eagerly agreed to attend.  This event being 6 months away and our unique relationship being brand new, although we were all certainly optimistic that this trip together would come to fruition, we all had realistic reservations that me joining them may never actually materialize.  Also, the secret location of this camp is a 10 hour drive from home in Portland, Maine so there would be those logistics to overcome. Lots of fun continued through the cold Maine winter which I will write about in future posts, but fast forward 6 months… It was camp time and i was going!  Ms. Chloe and john took the week off from work and drove to the event where they actually helped set it up.  I was only able to wrangle a Friday-Monday escape, so I flew in and ubered there joining them 4 days into their kinky adventure.  I arrived at Camp in full swing (pun intended), I was wide eyed, open minded and collared as owned, but had no idea what to actually expect.   Let’s just say that the next four days was full of thrills, titillation and unforgettable new experiences.