Trigger Finger

127532515_0bbeb8b4ba_bDamn it, I miss my boy. Enough is enough. I completely get he is away for a very good cause, and never would I interfere with that. But damn it….I don’t like being apart like this. They say that absence makes the heart grow fonder, and that’s true. But what do they say about a Dominant woman? What grows within her during absence? The heart?? Yes, the heart does indeed yearn. The body? Yes, that yearns too. But so does my trigger finger. And it just so happens that my trigger finger is the same exact one that is used to point. To direct. To beacon. To silence. To snap. With that one finger, I can make my grown boy cry. And that I do very much enjoy at times.

I am missing our routines. Can I take care of myself? Yes, of course I can. But I don’t want to. Not in all aspects. I am missing the daily rituals of him undressing me at night. Of the gentle removal of jewelry from my body. I miss watching him as he puts away my clothing, my things. I am missing his daily devotions. His kissing of all my bits and places.  His licking. His attentive hands and mouth.

I am missing the petting. The holding. The coffee. The warming of the car. The bed being made. The perfect cocktail at the end of the day.

Yes, I am without him and I am making and drinking coffee. I am putting away my clothes. And making the bed.

But I don’t prefer to do these things. I much prefer to point. To beacon. To snap. To point and command.

Even if there is a huge, wicked smile upon my face.

The lockup

She and I discussed locking me up this week, as I’ve been away from her. But, on the day this gets published, I’ll be away camping with a whole host of people, mostly kids, in some cabins in the Maine woods. Under those conditions, we thought it would be a little too onerous to try and hide the black metal tube attached to my dick as a “just in case” situation. “Just in case” someone walks in on me, or sees me peeing, or falls on me, or or or…. so many things that could happen. It’s kind of like, when in warmer weather and I’m kilted, I don’t wear a kilt without some kind of back up plan underneath. Hey, the kilt thing is mine, I can do it how I please and I do. ;)

So, I’m unlocked. For a week. Away from her. And that’s a long time. Sure, I’ve stroked. Yes, I’ve edged. But I still love knowing that she has been there – or she has sanctioned – every orgasm I’ve had for well over a year. There are no lapses. She’s been in total control.

So, I’m on my own recognizance. And I hopefully will sleep well. God knows that if I were locked, sleeping would be an issue too.

I like the comfort of being locked, despite the discomfort of being locked. And I like feeling her steel hand around my cock and balls.

This is just a short post, something to let the readers know that I’m away from her but loose, so there’s temptation. But not giving into it.

Switchy

Recently, while we were together in bed, knowing we were about to be apart for a week, we fucked. She set out with an agenda that she shared.

She wanted me to be submissive, then climb up the dominant world, then drop back down again. This is unusual for us, as our switchiness tends to be slower. Well, fair enough – it’s my fault it usually takes a while. I’m the slow one. She’s fine with getting her fix of bottom world, then she’s done, ready to climb back to her throne and be the boss again. ME? I’m more a tapering off on the dominant side.

So, we made out heavy, we coupled, she took me in. I knew, since I hadn’t cum for over 3 weeks, that I wouldn’t be able to keep up with her and her inevitable orgasm without falling over the edge myself. So I offered up the dildo which is our favorite. She acquiesced, I grabbed it, came back to her and sucked it to make it wet and slid it in her. I fucked her hard with it. She enjoyed it very much. I traded the dildo for my own cock. Then the dildo again. I started getting toppy with her. She took the dildo as I started pounding her with it. She came – hard. Loud. It was a beautiful sight.

Then I put my cock back in again as she was coming down. And swapped for the dildo. And swapped for my cock. “Which one do you like more?” I asked. Dildo. Cock. “I think you like mine more.” My cock reached just a little deeper than the dildo, but it matched me on width. We fucked hard.

She never likes being fucked hard after she cums, but that’s exactly what I was doing. Then I moved from the L-position to a missionary position, my cock inside her, fucking her to frustrate her “I came! I’m done!” mindset. And she started enjoying it more. She really got into it. And me, being more toppy, took the dildo and started fucking her face with it I taunted her, teased her, made her suck it. I pounded her. I gagged her with it. I was that toppy guy she was looking for as I filled two of her holes, taunted her verbally and gave us both pleasure.

Eventually, after multiple instances of me getting close to the edge and her enjoying deeply my toppy self, she was done and ready to turn it back over. I let one of my edges get closer and ask her if I could cum. That was what she wanted. That was the turnabout she needed.

Now she started taunting. Now her words were the ones that pushed me. And now the cock left her mouth and, soon, ended up in her hand. As we turned around, got ourselves into the other positions of our world, she took control. She found her hand on the dildo and then made it find its way to my mouth and she was able to be taunting me now, fucking my mouth while I fucked her pussy. I managed to get some time without my mouth gagged by cock – I sputtered “I’m close!”

“Don’t you dare!” she replied.

I looked down at her, she knew I was closer. I stopped fucking, she insisted I keep it up. I still moved slowly. The dildo found its way back to my mouth. “Don’t you dare without asking…. ” she told me. I was unable to ask.

I fucked her. She fucked my mouth. I asked, but the cock in my mouth only made it a mumble. She knew what I was asking. I drooled on her. She told me to cum. I grabbed her other hand and put it back onto the back of my head. She held my head in one hand, the dildo in the other, she gagged me deeply as I started cumming in her. Oxygen was growing short. I came deep in her. She was already very wet, I soaked her through. I grunted, I moaned, she gagged me, I came.

We both relaxed some, laughed at our own rapid switchiness and I made my way down to clean her up after I made HER mess even messier. It was a great switchiness between us, a great release for both of us, and I was back under her thumb before I even knew I was there again.

The view from here

I noted the other day her nightstand, as it might appear on about any day of our week.

Her nightstandWe see a bottle of water and tissues, of course. And there’s this massage ball/block/brick thing that doesn’t seem to do what we think it’s supposed to do. She prefers my hand and heel of my hand to this little stocking stuffer. And we also see her first collar for me – which she made, and is of a beautiful design. It’s actually the collar in my avatar at FetLife as well. And, finally, a padlock with her key stuck right in it. The padlock cannot be applied or removed without the key present. This can be a nuisance to self locking, but what I will often do in that case is lock up and then drive to her office to bring her the key. In this case, we’re in a lockup lull and the parts just wait here. Practically vanilla to anyone else, but knowing readers would be able to spot the difference. Just like knowing people seeing her key between her breasts might also know what the key could be for.

Just lying there

Saturday was a beautiful morning. At least my body decided that, instead of sleeping in, I would see how beautiful a morning it was. 6 am came quickly, woke me firmly and decided I would not be heading back to sleep. So, I made coffee, cleared the dry dishes from the sink and sat down to watch the sunrise.

She woke after me for a change and came to find me in the comfy chair in the dining room where I like to sit and type. Grabbing me by the tie of my bathrobe, she pulled me into the bedroom and directly into bed. Somehow the robe fell off my body on the way into bed. Now naked, we lay together, snuggled up close. We touched and caressed and she moved her way to lying on her stomach in our standard “pet me” position. Her left arm is free from under her body and she typically will hold my balls while I pet her.

I started petting her, rubbing according to her direction. The sun shone on the bed as we snuggled tightly under the covers. The warmth of the sun inspired us to relax and almost go back to sleep but her directing me to work out knots in her back prevented slumber. Still, I rubbed her, spending time on her back and her bottom. I even went down to her thighs periodically to give them a bit of a rub. The comforter lay on us and cloaked us from Saturday morning but gaps in that coverage let me smell any of the smells that were under the covers. Every time I rubbed her bottom and her cheeks separated, I’d release another waft of her scent which would work its way out from under the covers. Her hand clutched my balls possessively but my cock was free and was rubbing at the junction of her arm and side, providing a delicious little amount of friction. This closeness, this intimacy, her scent, the gentle friction and my service all came together in a beautiful way. I could feel the energy churning around inside me, I felt my breathing get deeper. I asked “May I orgasm, please?”

“Yes pup, do it.” I continued to rub her, catch her scent and rub my cock gently against her, within 30 seconds I was holding onto her hard as orgasm shook my body. My body tensed, I held her, I had a big beautiful orgasm that had several waves and could have gone on for much longer but I reined it in, calmed myself and let me body relax next to her.

“And what brought that on?” she said with a smile on her face.

I explained about all the things that pushed me up and over the edge, making note of the scent, which was likely the biggest factor in pushing me over the edge. “Well good morning to you then!”

I smiled back and she moved from her prone position opening up her breasts to me which I promptly attacked. Another more active round later I found myself at the point of another orgasm, this time while inside her.

I very much enjoy that I’ve learned to have these orgasms without ejaculation. It’s distilled the essence of a full orgasm into one that gives me almost all of the pleasure without spilling the seed in ejaculating and losing that tension. She continues to deny my ejaculating but allows me this type of pleasure. I can’t get there any time I want, but then I’m not sure I want to be able to do that, as it might take some of the mystery out of it. In the end, it’s a good way to be able to share intimacy with the woman that denies my ejaculation but revels in my orgasm.

Put in place

Thursday night turned into an impromptu party evening. A small birthday gathering moved from restaurant to home and then a crew ended up going out on the town. Dinner at the restaurant was lovely and I spent time entertaining people, engaging, being involved. We moved to the house and I realized that this was going to keep running for far longer than I expected. Drinks, appetizers, etc. I served. I did my part but I was cranky.

Why was I cranky? I was expecting a quiet night at home. I was planning to finish cleaning up those final three bags of stuff still hanging around our bedroom, maybe watch another episode of a show, maybe do a little driving if there was some surge, perhaps work on the rope project and generally, relax.

These kind of nights happen in our world sometimes. I usually am okay with the adjustment, but at other times I get cranky instead of pulling through with the grace and aplomb expected. It’s completely selfish of me, I know. I am fully aware that, as a service submissive, as an owned pet of my Mistress, I need to be able to serve whenever she asks or demands – even if there’s no notice given.

But I kept myself in the cranky side of things, god knows why. Eventually, it came time for the crew to disappear out to town. Madame and I would not be going out with them and I was more than ready for bed. I was lying on the bed, working out some details of computer things I wanted to run overnight. Once people left, I’d put my computer out in the dining room to run the rest of the night. Madame came into the bedroom.

Kiss. My. Ass.“What is wrong with you?”

“I’m just tired.”

“Is that all?”

“I wasn’t expecting a party.”

“But one happened. And you need to remember who you are.”

“I know Ma’am. I know.”

“Get over here.” I scrambled out of bed and came toward her. She turned away from me. Despite her turning away, I heard her next words “Kiss my ass.” Not loud. Not angry. Not shouted. Three words just spoken matter-of-factly. I knelt behind her. I kissed her bottom. She looked behind her and glared. I gently pulled down her pants and panties and kissed both her naked cheeks twice each. “Good boy” she spoke, as simply and clearly as her previous words as she turned around. “You need to remember your place, boy.”

“Yes, Ma’am, I’m sorry. Thank you.”

“Now finish up, I’m ready for bed, I expect to be pet until I fall asleep.”

 

Sometimes

Hand in the hairSometimes my service is just petting her back to sleep.

Sometimes the computer falls asleep in the middle of the night and the work you wanted done – isn’t done.

Sometimes the blog post is very short.

Never is my love for her gone.

About last night…

She came home last night, instead of being away, as was predicted. I was happy for this. While we’ve spent a lot of time together lately, we haven’t spent a lot of time together lately. :) I like our time of play and fun and joy. But as far as Madame and pup, we’ve kept it simmering on the back burner and kept it in our life, but we haven’t put it up on the front burner, nor have we put it into the pressure cooker.

Last night changed that. I had locked up the cock yesterday morning, but she let me unlock last night, which was kind. She also had told me to pick out some equipment I’d like to be tied up in for the night. So, naturally, I grabbed some LBD cuffs (not just because we like Danny, we love his handmade products because they rock! That’s not an affiliate link or anything!) and some hardware, a mindfold and looked for the stocking she wore on New Year’s eve. Turns out, I had tossed those out with the trash in my efficiency before trash day. Drat, no stocking.

She was tired, wanted a sleeping pill and cough medicine and was ready for bed earlier than normal, but that’s fine. I teased her about “I can’t believe you’re going to let Ian fuck you!” – as I have been working on a story where a man named Ian fucks her. We also talked about other things, some vanilla, some not. I rubbed her back.

“Get yourself bound, pup. It’s time.” She rolled over to watch me. I put together the ankle cuffs and clipped those together. I added the wrist cuffs. The collar.

“Anything else you need before I put this all together, Ma’am?”

“Pet me, pup. I’m fascinated in watching you. You’re fucking sexy.”

I smiled. “Thank you. You’re pretty fucking sexy too.” Her hand reached to my cock, felt it half hard and then she rolled over away from me, to her regular sleep position.

Bound up for the night

Bound up for the night

“Pet me now pup, then clip yourself together.” I put on the blindfold, then pet her until she was close enough to sleep and clipped myself together. My hands together and then to the neck of the collar. I wasn’t very tightly rigged up, but surely I wouldn’t be able to reach my cock, which she’d be happy with. And I wasn’t going to run off in the middle of the night because my ankles were clipped together.

I slept that way all night. I was able to pull a body pillow close to me. I slept pretty well, likely because she had cough medicine and a sleeping pill that let HER sleep well.


 

This morning we woke, her first, she uttered something to me and I asked if I could have a potty break. She said yes and several minutes later bid me to stand, had me pee into a cup telling me “I wouldn’t pee too much pup, whatever goes in this cup is what you’re drinking.” The blindfold over me helped me relax enough to pee, as she held the cup in front of me with one hand and my cock was in her other hand. I didn’t pee all that I might have as her threat seemed real to me. When I was done she held the cup to my mouth. “Open. Open up pup, I don’t want a mess.” She tipped the cup back, I sighed, opened my mouth… and she walked away with the cup.

“Lay back down” she said as she left the room.

Later, after I dozed some in the bed, she returned and unclipped my hands from my neck. “Get hard, now.” I stroked myself as she put her pussy over my face. She re-positioned me, climbed up on the bed and slid me directly into her pussy, balls deep. We both groaned. She rode her cock, using my cuffed together hands as a handle, whispering down to me about using me, fucking me, riding me. She whispered to me about Ian and how she was going to fuck him and bring back cum for me to lick. Soon I had to stop her. She watched me struggling behind my blindfold. She rode me again. Again I stopped her. “Pup, I want to fuck. Are you telling me I can’t fuck my toy now?”

“Yes! STOP! STOP!!!” she stopped, I struggled very hard. I had been pushed right to the edge. At the end of this edge, she managed to pick up merely a small amount of cum from the head of my cock, feed it to me and then dismount the bed.

“You’re a fun fuck toy. I love watching you struggle.”

And she does. She loves watching me struggle. I think that’s a large portion of the reason she keeps me on edge the way she does. I’m happy with that. While I would love to have her be able to just ride me however long she wants, I also love struggling for her because she wants to see that struggle. But some days I do dream of her just riding me until she cums, climbing off of me and telling me she’s done with me. It’s a beautiful idea.

On service

Last night, there were a few things that I needed to do before I could go to bed, but Madame had promptly rolled over to her side of the bed and was moving toward sleep before I was ready.

I did the dishes in the sink, whether or not they were ours. Then I pulled the laundry from the basement and proceeded to fold it. Then I put the clean dishes away, as Madame doesn’t like a full drainboard when she wakes up. I also prepped the coffee machine in there somewhere, so Madame had to simply press the button when she woke.

She did make some inquiry to me in which I responded I was just “doing the things” – and she knew that I was folding laundry, but she was likely in the dark about the other things I was doing. Sometimes I do those things after I pet her to sleep, but with her coughing and the cold, I wasn’t sure when she’d get to sleep, thus when I’d get a chance to work on them.

Man washing dishes naked at the sink

Man washing dishes naked at the sink

Sometimes I struggle with this side of service. And I think it’s related to how I desire feedback in many of the things I do. With my work with kink events, work in community volunteering, the day job and in my service to Mistress, I do need positive feedback. I know that. I can work a good long 16 hour shift setting up kink camp, but if someone there doesn’t acknowledge me specifically in some way and my work, I can tend to get cranky. And at work, if I help someone with their project and I don’t get my proper credit (I do work in an industry where credits are similar to movie credits – it might not be much, but they’re expected) I get cranky over that. And when I’ve been working to better our home and serving Madame, I absolutely crave and love her acknowledging my work. Even if it’s just a scratch behind the ears while she tells me that she noticed I did X, Y or Z – that goes a long long way.

But I’m not sure last night’s tepidness over doing the chores was a credit issue or whether it was just a kind of malaise. I’m stuck thinking about what it was. I could dismiss it as just being something related to our both being sick. That might be perfectly valid. We’ve been sick, not sleeping well and we’re tired. She has been working extra hard at the office and really just wants a couple days off. She is in a place I was at months ago, wherein I put in several very long and underappreciated weeks. I also expect that, sometime when I do get to see her, I’ll hear from her that she appreciated the work I did. She’s always good at that. In fact, this morning, before she left for work, she addressed me as slave, which is not insulting to me, but endearing. Usually I’m “pup”, but slave is less used. And I appreciated hearing it.

Of course, much of this is moot, as one of the roommates came home and ended up making shots, so the counter is a mess, the bar is a mess and it looks like I didn’t really do anything in the kitchen. *shrug* Such is the way of communal living sometimes.

So, I’m a little stuck in how I’m managing some of the service, the unseen service. But it really does need to be done, so it’s getting done.

Of course, it could also be my mind trying to trick me into not liking this service just because I haven’t cum in a few weeks and I think cumming should be some kind of reward. But then where’s the fun in that?

I think I’m going to write this all off as being infected by this cold and see where I can go from there. But while making tags for this post, I did give myself a little more idea of where to go on posting – so that’s certainly of benefit.

1881

I’m wondering if I should play that number in the pick 4 lottery. It seems that 1881 is the number that represents some of my world in 2016.

18 is the number of times I ejaculated. Were it not for October, it would be 10. November was also a semi busy month with 4. I think October and the visit from Lady Jill was a great instigator in all of that (okay, she was responsible for a minority of those spills, but some of it was definitely her fault! (thank you, Miss!)).

81 is the number of days the cock was locked. Compared to so many folks in my blogroll and twitterverse, that’s NOTHING. There are people out there hitting 90 – 100% of time under lockdown. 22% is nothing to sneeze at, but it certainly pales in comparison. And that’s very much okay. But it’s a tool we use… that she uses… to enforce her will upon me. Typically it’s a good indicator of the number of days we spend apart. And if we spend around 20% of our time apart, that might be a little excessive and something to work on. But apart 1 in 5 days. Eep!

Madame asked me last night “Was 18 too many?” and I replied what was the correct answer – “It was as many as you let me have, so it was perfect.” And I do believe in that statement. If my orgasms belong to her, then she’ll let me have as many as she wants. In 2016, she wanted me to have 18 and that’s how many I had. Now, for 2017, I don’t know what she’ll want. I’m not sure she does either. Our lives wax and wane between chastity, open sex, denial, demand – and predicting or even goal setting on this kind of number could be hazardous.

Now, as far as the number 81, I’d be happy to see that number top 100, even if solely for the third digit. I might even like to see it top 182 – where we get from my mere 22% into 50% and beyond. But that is also up to her. And honestly, as I made use of this morning, I do love stroking the cock. Damn it does it feel good and let me wake up in a slow and joyful way.

So, I won’t let the numbers run our relationship (not that others who keep strict track do that, but their numbers may be their own semi-physical fetishes – and that’s totally cool – and hot) but I will, in the background, keep track of important numbers in relation to the practice of our FLR.

So, speaking of 1881, what happened in 1881?

  • Billy the kid escapes! (but not chastity)
  • Gilbert and Sullivan’s Patience debuted (now that is apropos)
  • Red Cross Founded (I’m not sure they would render me aid in my distress)
  • Sitting Bull surrenders (I’ve certainly surrendered on multiple occasions to Madame)
  • Gun fight at the OK Corral (Just 10 men shooting off in the middle of the day – actually only 30 rounds, by most accounts, but still, just shooting freely)

I had a great year with Madame. We had our ups and downs, but all relationships are like that. That she completely controlled me all year long is an important aspect. That is one of the key parts of the sexual side of our FLR and I couldn’t be happier for it to be so. Happy New Year everyone! (And in case you care, we’re at zero – zero today).