This morning I found myself naked and on my hands and knees in the bathroom, gloves on, cleaning the floor and toilet with a bleach solution. Later I would rinse some miscellaneous linens in the shower as well. Madame was also doing some kitchen work, food prep and cleaning, but of course she was clothed while her boy was naked.
After the cleaning, she took me to the bedroom where she showed me the cane she would beat me with. I had done nothing to deserve a caning, other than being her property. I’m okay with that. There are two points in this mornings play that really stood out to me, as if my crawling naked on my hands and knees in the bathroom was not notable enough! First, that she had on her kitchen apron. Standing there with a cane in her hand, waiting for me to walk through the doorway of the bedroom, I naked and smelling slightly of bleach. That apron, so very mundane, so very matter of fact, so “not very dominant”, but she simply taking time to put stripes on her boy.
And she caned me. Nothing too severe, but there were a few places where it really hurt, as is the intended consequence. The second item that really played out strongly to me was when she moved to the other side of my body and took my right foot in her hand, then struck me with the cane. That touch… that lovely exquisite touch of her hand, so tender, but yet so constraining and deliberate. I at once felt owned, protected, disciplined and bound. Bound by her hand, bound to her spirit, as she held my foot and ankle and let the cane whoosh down against my naked flesh.
I am amazed at how such seemingly little things can be so powerful in their ability to touch me.
I have so many things I want to write about after attending Winterfire, but work has been insanely busy (it doesn’t stop, just because I leave, it just piles up) and I have some other weekend activities on tap this coming weekend. We shall see about writing soon.
Oh, and the little blue notebook went missing, which had my notes about the weekend. Ugh.
And I’m working out some post event drop which is hitting harder than normal. I think it’s because the better the experience, the harder the drop.
There are as many ways to enjoy tease, denial and chastity as there are people who enjoy practicing it. Some just want to be teased for a few minutes before they cum. Some want to be teased a denied and never expect to cum ever again. Some want to have their cock locked up for no more than an hour or three, maybe a work shift, and some want rivets used in their chastity device. Even padlocks with hidden keys are not enough for them. I can understand that mindset. I don’t practice it, but I understand it.
A key nestled in a home spot
I enjoy that Chloe can tell people that she keeps me locked. I’m kind of an exhibitionist chastity fan. I also have the fantasy that Chloe wears the key around her neck and she’s asked by someone what it’s for. And she tells them. She’s 100% honest and tells the person “It’s for my cock and balls. Isn’t that right, pup?” she asks as her hand grazes the front of my pants and I nod, blush and mutter “Yes, Ma’am”. Or if I’m not with her, she has a conversation with this person about the key and what it is for… all referencing that I am elsewhere, locked and not able to get into any trouble either by myself or with someone else. “Oh he can masturbate, but not without supervision. And he’s not allowed to cum, of course. Not without lots of begging and teasing.” This is a very strong thread that pervades chastity fiction and fantasy. Continue reading
“The show” can be any number of things. For a baseball player, it’s the culmination of years of practice and focus and finally getting up to the bigs. For actors, it’s to the top of their craft, prime time TV, Broadway, a blockbuster hit, the leading man or leading lady. The Met, Carnegie, Banaroo? Well.. But you get the idea. In this case, we’re talking about showing off one’s property (cause we’re kinky like that).
A waxed man
Madame took me to the groomers last weekend for a hair and beard trim and then more recently to another groomer where I was waxed. We’ve been to this groomer before and she’s already familiar with waxing my junk and Madame is there to help, grasping and stretching skin, though Laurie (salon person, names changed… ) has still handled my parts enough. Laurie isn’t kinky, as far as we know, but she doesn’t mind us coming in and Madame giving her a hand with ripping the hair out of my body. We laugh a lot. Continue reading
I’ve been getting involved in a shared workshop and have started really being able to dig deeper into playing around with wood. First project is to create my own humbler, as I’ve considered having one and Chloe has said that she really wants to use one on me. So, what Chloe wants, Chloe usually gets.
I cut a first prototype from some plans I found online out of Fir. It was reclaimed lumber from a door I found on the side of the road. That was far too thick, but I was able to assess the shape of the humbler as adequate and some of the other aspects of it as well. So, off to the store to find some wood and I found some 8/4 cherry that looked nice. I sawed that down with our band saw and had some 6/4 and almost 2/4 wood left.
rough cherry paddle blanks
I had a problem with sawing down that wood which put a blade through some of the humbler wood, but I was able to continue the shape and get rounded edges. Another good step. I also cut out a few paddles from the extra 2/4 plank. Continue reading