Two dates in 2 days.

16470696989_a45113a33f_zAnother winner. I have had two dates in two days as a result of my Craigslist ad, and they were both terrific. I am lucky, happy, blessed, even. I have not had to deal with anything uncomfortable or unfortunate. I hate having to say to someone, “Thanks, but no thanks”. Rejection is terribly hard. I don’t like having to administer it, and I don’t like receiving it, either.

But very happily, I don’t have to talk about that in this post. I tried to be very selective in who I decided to meet. I do not want to take on more than I can chew, more than what is fair.

What did I almost love most about meeting these two submissives?? They were so very different from one another. I don’t even feel there is a competition (and I never wanted it to feel that way, to be structured that way). They are in different places developmentally (meaning, in their D/s development). One is more open, more ready, more confident, more eager and fun. That person is date number one. I loved his energy. He appears to me to be “turn key ready”. I love that and am totally turned on by it.

Date number 2 is a wee bit more tentative. More inquisitive. Has a bit of a “deer in the headlights” look about him. I will admit that this delighted me. I could see his nervousness, and he admitted a few times from across the table that he was terrified. I got a thrill from this, in a very compassionate way, of course. Isn’t it the sexiest feeling of all to be aroused and nervous at the same time???

His terror reminds me of my own, once upon a time. I will write about that another day, absolutely not now. But it resonates with me. He inspires me to want to show him a bit of what this is all about, and do it the right way.

I have thoroughly, thoroughly enjoyed my two experiences. I can’t say that enough.

But this comes with some challenges too. I am writing publicly about two human beings, with two different personality types. They have feelings, hearts, desires, tender places like we all do. I know they read this blog. Talk about feeling naked!!! I feel naked knowing that I am writing and they are probably reading. But I promised from the minute I became kinky that I would always be honest. I was not honest once, one time, to one person, and I have lived with that regret since then. I will write about that too some day. Not now, but some day soon.

So, I am going to write about this experience, and I am going to be honest…no matter who might be reading.

Date number 2 has me inspired to teach. I want to be a good teacher to him. I want to get things from him, yes. Totally. I am not entirely sure that he grasps what I want for service. I worry a bit because he seems to work really hard in his vanilla world. A hard job, where he labors a lot. I struggle with some guilt in situations like that. I find it hard to say, “Hi. Welcome to my dungeon. I am very glad you are here for the day. We are going to work and play and work. You have chores to do today. I want the bathroom cleaned, the mudroom organized, the car washed. You will do those things, and I will make it fun, and we will play but you will do those things because you are my submissive, and that is what I want of you right now”.

Why do I find it hard? Well, because the nice part of me knows that this guy (date number 2) works physically hard and I am a bit uneasy saying, “Hi, welcome to your weekend. Come work some more”. BUT….BUT, BUT, BUT….I also placed this ad with very clear expectations that work is a part of what we do. I work hard, and I want a fully compliant, submissive pet to work along side of me. And, many times, harder than I do. So, if someone does not want this, then they can tell me that they are not the submissive I am looking for, and all would be fine. I would very much appreciate their honesty.

So, there is that. I do not have these feelings with date number one. I pretty much want to work him right away. He seems up for the adventure and joy of learning about one another, and I am chomping a bit to get it started. I smile when I think about it. I think john will like him. I really do. I am most hopeful that they have good energy for one another. With date number 2, I need to get him to get Me first, and then I can work on seeing what sparks might fly between he and john. Good sparks, that is.

And hey….I am not at all discounting that I might just decide to have date number two as my own private toy/minion. Maybe I’ll want that. It will unfold as it is meant to be….I feel certain of this.

AND….I am not at all discounting the fact at all that I just had two dates, where we did a “meet and greet”. They could absolutely send me an email and say, “It was nice to meet you, but I’m not into you that much. Good luck”. I 100% know that I could be rejected. It hasn’t happened yet, and I hope it doesn’t, but I realize that it might. And if it does, back to the drawing board I go. :-)

I have to be mindful of my compassionate side. It can get in my way sometimes. I am determined with this search to be a bit less of the nice person I usually am and more of the loving bitch I really want to be. I placed an ad, yes, because I want a plaything for john, but I also want to better spread some of my own dominant wings. I want to improve. Get better.  Get sexier. And I need actual people to do that. I need the opportunity to put fantasy to life. I will not get it right all the time and I both need and want good people who can help shape me and guide me. Any submissive I have is not going to be a doormat. If I want a door mat, I’ll go buy a  doormat. They will shape me as I shape them. That is what this is about to me. Or, a big part of it, anyway.

So, that’s the update. For now.

John’s post for today is very interesting. I don’t know if he published it or not, but he asked me to read it, and I did. It’s hot. It kind of messes with my head a bit, in the most delicious of ways, of course. Maybe this is one of those rare, rare times when we are both feeling dominant. Two rams, locking horns, vying for top dog, grinning at one another from ear to ear as we secure our footing and jockey for position.

I will win.

I will absolutely win. He wears a collar every single day. I do not.

I will win because I will order him to lose.

This is the coolest thing ever!!!!!

 

 

Good and painful and chocolatey

Yesterday was a good day. For the very large part, it was fantastic.
It had really great moments in it, ones that I didn’t expect to be that good, and ones that made me really happy.

And, it had in it too a few minutes that hurt. I almost cried. I didn’t, but almost.

Date number one was very successful. I am not going to say too, too much in this posting. Not yet, anyway. But suffice it to say, it was really good. I liked him immediately. He had an openness, a happiness, an ease about him and a smile that I found very comfortable to be around. We only had a short 45 minutes to meet because I was teaching a class all day, and didn’t get to take much of a break during the day, but I did scoot out during lunch and meet with him.

He is cute! “Cute” doesn’t matter if you’re an asshole, but this guy did not seem to have any of those qualities. He just seemed…..I dunno…..excited. Curious. Willing to give it a shot.

Our schedules meld perfectly. We live ridiculously close to one another. He does not appear to have any baggage, any bullshit, any reservations that lead me to believe that this does not have potential. I know it’s only the very first meeting, but it would feel a whole lot different if my first impression was shaky and guarded. It was anything but.

Of course, we did not get to talk specifics, and I really wanted to.

I honestly don’t know how he’ll feel about the sexy and  exciting details of what I’m looking for. I did outline those things pretty specifically in my ad, so he must have an idea, but talking about them is another thing all together.

I wonder how he’ll react when he learns that during lunch, I had a hard desire to know what his face looks like when being spanked. That I wanted to see him on his knees, looking up at me, as I looked down upon him, smiling at my new toy.

I wondered what he’ll think when he knows how my imagination is so very amped up right now. I thought of our cute little winter nest here in Maine, me doing some writing while the two are naked in the kitchen, cooking, preparing a cocktail, working together in nothing but flesh and collars. I imagine looking across the room at such a thing, and feeling very delighted.

It’s only the very beginning, yes. And anything could happen, I know. I absolutely need to have a deeper, more detailed conversation. I need to start slowly, thoughtfully and carefully. ‘Cause really…..you only get one chance to make a first impression.

Date one did an excellent job at this. I am delighted. It really couldn’t have gone any better, for the 45 minute date that it was.

I have plans to meet person number 2 tonight. I am curious to see how it goes. And then there is the lovely sounding stephi on friday afternoon. I think this is plenty. Meeting these fine people is just the beginning. What to do with a new toy such as this is totally different.

The painful part of my day?? I’m not even sure I want to write about it. But I will. It’s ridiculous and I’m slightly embarrassed about it, but here it goes.

Last night I was alone, john was out with co-workers, I had my pool league later in the evening. I stopped at home for an hour or so. I needed to do something for dinner. I didn’t want to deal. I didn’t want to go out by myself. So…..I did what any idiot would do…..I finished off the last two inches of the Ben and Jerry’s container, and then had a coke.

What. The. Fuck.

Who does that? Ice cream and soda for dinner?? Jeeze…..I have not done that in I don’t know how long. It was awful. As soon as I did it, I thought, “What the hell, Chloe….that’s disgusting”. But I did it. And then I took a 15 minute power nap before pool.

Ugh.

I was feeling a little tuggy at john. Sometimes I just crave him to take me. So, I texted him and mentioned my crappy choice for dinner. I specifically said, “The last bit of Ben and Jerry’s and a coke are not good dinner choices, and not healthy. I hereby order you to sternly lecture me against such choices”. john is very good at being stern when he wants to be, and I know this. And kinda of like it.

Ok, I like it a lot sometimes, to be honest.

Anyway, that request somehow turned into an over the knee spanking that he administered to me. And then a paddling. Damn, I hate paddles. But, he was fast, not terribly hard, and he caressed my ass cheeks very sweetly with each stroke. I liked it. But I didn’t like so much was taking off my”Mistress” hat, if even for 3o minutes of switchy fun. I am still figuring out how to maintain the small switchy part of our relationship, because I don’t feel submissive in any way.

Sometimes I just want him to take me. End of story.

For a finite period of time, I just want to be overcome by him.

And then it needs to be over. I want and need my power pack after that.

This morning I gazed at his beautifully sleeping form, and immediately secured his collar back around his throat. Right where it belongs. I smiled. I love that my ass still feels a tiny bit warm, and it’s a great itch that I get to get scratched. I love that I can still switch at times with him, because it makes me happy. I am glad that we can do this, and that I can ask for it when I want it. This is good.

I think I might go reward myself with a spoonful of chocolate cake.

Chocolate cake is a good breakfast choice, isn’t it??

14802164175_cc8dfccef8_z

The Lady and the tramp

I am wondering if it was confusing to read about the additional play partners my boy has had when we really have not mentioned much about that part of our relationship in the past.

We have alluded to it, referred to it briefly here and there, peppering our entries with mention of lovers much like the spicy and sweet essences that can take you by surprise when you’re not expecting them.

Yes, we are in an open relationship, and have been saying as much for nearly 10 years. But ‘open’ means different things to different couples. In no way is my boy allowed to go out and fuck anyone he wants.

I can, but he cannot.

Well, pretty much that’s de rigueur .

The biggest rule? Neither of us stick our dicks in crazy.

Or in my case, my strap on.

The other rule, equally as big? I am the number one girl in his life. Period.

If I don’t approve of the person john wants to be with, then he can pretty much assume he is not going to be with them. There are a few slight exceptions to this, and those exceptions all pretty much take place when we are at our kinky camp. If my boy wants to go top someone at camp that I don’t know, I am generally fine with that. His toppy side has far, far more exemptions to the confines of our relationship than his submissive side will ever know.

Sometimes I order him to top another person because I get wind of the fact that they want him to top them. Sometimes my boy has been asked to help assist in the take-down, kidnapping and violation of a consenting camper, and he goes off to fulfill these duties quite happily. During those instances, I feel like a doting housewife, seeing her man off for a day of hard work. But instead of handing him his briefcase and a cup of coffee as I send him out the door with a peck on the cheek and wishes for a good day, I instead hand him his whip, a set of cuffs, I send him out the door with a caress on the ass and wishes for a safe and happy fucking.

And, finally, sometimes my boy simply has his eye on someone he wants to be with. I am more curious about those folks, and it’s fair to say that I have to be mindful about spikes of jealously that can poke at me when I don’t want them to.

This is the stuff that takes a long time to figure out. At least, for us it does. My feelings change, sometimes seasonally. If I am feeling a lack of confidence in my own world, then his leash is going to be shorter. If I am feeling strong and centered, then I am apt to give him a much broader range of motion. Is that always fair? I don’t know; maybe not. But I am honest about it, and for us, that is sometimes the way it goes.

My boy has one particular woman that he has an intimate relationship with.  I am not sure they have an established set of pronouns they use with one another on any sort of consistent basis. They are many important things to one another, but how they refer to one another, and when, I’m not actually sure.

I do know that all three of us agree that they have something significant and meaningful between them. They are play partners, lovers, friends, intellectual counterparts.

If she were an artist, he would be her muse.

They are Lady and boy. Or, because my boy tends to be a bit of a kid in a candy store when we’re at camp, they are The Lady and the tramp. I smile.

As is my mostly inflexible rule with this blog, I don’t name names, I don’t name places unless I need to. I have decided to leave this explanation as it is. I like this Lady very much. I have grown because of her, and I’d like to think, I’ve grown with her. We have had moments we have needed to figure out, but we have succeeded in those moments, and we are better for them.

My boy has others he flirts with. My feelings are that that he was this way when I met him, so why try and teach an old dog new tricks?  He knows my rules. He knows my expectations. He is allowed to be flirty and fun, but he knows never to betray my trust and confidences. We don’t betray these things in one another. Yes, I am the boss, I am the Domme, but we are also partners. Primary ones. Good ones. Fun ones.

And sometimes trampy ones too.

 

 

ISO update…picking

4771155337_9dd3712bca_zWell, this will prove to be a busy week. I got back from my trip and the emails continue. If you don’t know, a few weeks ago I placed an ad seeking an additional, submissive play partner for john and myself. This is something we have discussed many, many times over the years (and fantasized about), and finally, we feel that we are at a place in our world where we can comfortably seek this sort of thing.

I placed an ad in craigslist.

People often seem surprised when I mention this, as though craigslist has deteriorated so much in quality that I’d be a fool to seek anything from within its pages. Not true. I have rarely come across the fakes that others say infest the site. I am not denying that there is some of that out there, but I just don’t really come across it that often.

A few years ago, I corresponded with someone that I really liked, and I suggested a public meeting time and place. I heard back from him, and he was horrified. He admitted that he had been lying to me, toying with me, playing a game with me because he did not think I was real. When I asked about meeting, he realized I was indeed very real, and he was tripping over himself to apologize. I kind of liked him for his humbleness and honesty. No, I didn’t meet him;  when I learned his truth, he did not meet the criteria I was looking for, and I sent him away with his tail tucked, but I think we both had positive things we took away from the experience.

I simply have found good things out there. Good people.

I am meeting 3 of them this week. Short, easy coffee dates. One lunch date.

All are quiet different than one another.

I am wondering what it will be like when we actually meet. We have spent a fair amount of time writing, sharing, opening, revealing, asking, answering. These exchanges make us familiar to one another. We have grown to like and respect one another thus far because we have come this far.

But I also know that all of this very much has a lot to do with chemistry. If it isn’t there, then it’s probably going to go no where. It’s a two way street, this chemistry thing. Perhaps they are worried that I might not like them when I meet them. Well, guess what? I face that too. Although, I wouldn’t say I ‘worry’, but I dislike rejection as much as anyone else. Rejection is not easy. But it is a reality. When I say I don’t worry, that doesn’t mean I don’t feel a bit nervous too, because I do. The bottom line is that I found john on craigslist because I placed one ad, for one day, 10 years ago. I got gold the first time I tried, and I never stop feeling lucky about that. I remember the fear of rejection, and how wonderful john was. He taught me things I carry with me to this day.

One of the ones that has emerged from the “ISO” ad is a lovely TG person I will call stephi. I was not expecting to find stephi, but something about her found its way to me. I think it is her writing; she is good at it, and that impresses me. She seems honest, caring, fun, easy, comfortable. It’s just a feeling I get. I think about meeting her, and I am wondering if I might like to keep her for myself. I smile wickedly and playfully when I think this. She is sort of like picking out what I want for dinner, instead of what we want for dinner. I know john’s taste, so I feel confident he’ll like the same things, but in this case, it is my pleasure that is coming first.

But truthfully, all 3 sound lovely. That is where I am for now. I think for another contender, I have built up a very high hope, and I am a bit worried about it being dashed. If if sounds too good to be true then it just might be. In this case, I am wondering if perhaps I am not what he seeks. We shall see. Starting tomorrow.

Oddly, I still get replies trickling in from that ad. I am amazed how far back in the CL archives some people go, but I am still getting a few replies. I don’t love this part; it’s a lot of writing and awkward beginnings. I like getting past the beginnings.

I am curious.

I am hopeful.

I am excited.

I am open.

 

Swallowing

I get a very calm, quiet, deeply satisfying sense of pleasure when my boy is suffering to the point that he is whimpering or moaning, or even stifling a scream, and I catch those sounds in my open and seeking mouth.

I often don’t start out to intentionally cause pain to my boy. Some animals hunt their prey for the pleasure or exercise of the hunt, not intending to cause misery to their victims.

Some stalk in order to sharpen their prowesses.

And it’s true that animals don’t always intend to devour their prey because they didn’t have devouring in mind when they started. But it is as though some switch gets triggered when the writhing of the victim begins. When the sounds of distress start to rise from the restricted throat, and beautiful eyes widen in alarm and fear, the instinct to subdue or silence overtakes and it is with my own open mouth that I catch his lament.

I am one of those animals at times.

But it doesn’t often begin that way.

Not at all.

There are times when my boy and I lay together in bed, entwined in tangled sheets, buried beneath late afternoon covers, surrounded by down pillows in crisp cotton cases. Often we find ourselves there in order to share a tender embrace or because I have allowed him the  semi-sleepy time he so enjoys on a Saturday morning and I climb back into the bed in order to get him out of it.

I like these times. My boy is sweet in the way he likes to pass moments with his face pressed against my breast.  Sometimes we lay cheek to cheek, me enjoying the masculinity of his beard while his hand seeks the curve of my breast. I see us from above, I can envision what we look like….and if we’re lucky, we have timed our siesta so that it matches the afternoon sun coming through our windows, splashing warmth across our bed. I have always loved the smell of him, the taste of him. He is water to me….clean, soft, a taste that holds nothing and everything at the same time.

Kissing him is pure pleasure. It is romantic and sexual delight. It is often our gateway drug if we have the time to indulge in its pleasures.

That is often the trigger for me. That kissing. That deep, exploring kissing where I taste wind and water as I drink him in for more.

987020597_3f5708190f_z

It will start this way, and everything about us is focused on this moment.

My hand will wander to his chest, my most favorite spot on his body. My fingertips will trace all his familiar angles and curves. I will encircle a nipple and tug at it lightly. I will find the other and do the same.

The tugging becomes less tugging and more clamping. One small, lovely nipple between two well aimed finger tips.

The clamping becomes pinching, ever so slowly. I steer him away from the discomfort by deepening the kiss. I make him pay attention to my own mouth consuming his.

But soon he struggles to concentrate because that tiny nipple is now trapped between two manicured nails that I sink more deeply into his tender flesh.

I press. I dig. I express no movement at all except to press two small tips into one small place, and yet the pain for him becomes enormous.

This is what I like to swallow. This is the pure waters he offers me…..his suffering.

I take large mouthfuls of his discomfort.

And sometimes if the pain is significant enough….if my fingertips torture cock instead of nipples….the wailing spills out and over the edges of his lips, my swallowing mouth unable to keep up with the cascading fall of sound.

I will ease off the pressure long enough to finish cleaning up the spill of agony and to administer some sexual healing. Talons become feathers, pinching becomes caressing, digging becomes stroking.

Tortured panting becomes soft panting.

Eyes that begged me to stop now implore me to continue.

He is what I love to consume. These entangled moments between us may not last but for a few moments, but they are a delight for me. Many times, the more I drink of his suffering, the more thirsty I become.

So much blissful agony from the smallest of touches.

I can get drunk on such pleasures.

 

 

 

It’s been a bit

Wow, but it’s been a whirlwind of activity, but not much on the blog. My apologies. My Mistress was away and I was supposed to meet up with the lovely Lady J as she happened to be in a nearby major metropolitan area. And then fate stepped in.

I was in a measure of physical distress so great that I left work early Wednesday, called out of work Thursday (historically my worst day to miss a day), saw multiple physicians, had an in office procedure, which they gave me the option of waiting until Friday to do in the hospital, but the discomfort was great enough to have me say “Just do it now!” Thursday after local anesthetics wore off, I was given an insight into pain management, as I was without the prescribed medication and in great need of them. I made it home to take them and in an hour they kicked in and I was able to see clearly. Come Friday morning I was in better relief, but my lovely partner and Mistress gave me more of the good prescription meds, just so I could sleep longer, which I did.

The rest of the weekend was a pretty low key one, as Mistress headed out to visit a friend in need, I had the kids with me and we did a lot of nothing, although there were chores to be done while Mistress was away and also an awesome beef stew that I made!

Today, a slow start to the day, more recovery, things are going well with that, it seems, but I’m not quite there yet, though I’ll be back at work tomorrow. We ended our weekend with a visit to a friends to watch the NY Giants lose a game to the Patriots through poor time management. (Really, the Giants won that game, but gave it up because you can’t let Brady get that kind of time to respond.)

And now, here we are. I am nearly naked, collared, Mistress on the bench nearby, candles glowing, music playing, we’re each doing some kind of writing, me here, she… unknown. Perhaps one of the contacts she recently made through the “ISO” postings. And we begin our new life together, where we have no roommates and no kids in residence. It’s just us. And it’s the first time it has been this way. And we don’t expect any drop in family visitors. And in this way, I get to start this week with a smile on my face, despite mild discomfort and healing going on. And I can look over at her as she types and smile, as I know my Mistress will soon call me to bed with her. Perhaps I’ll read to her, perhaps I’ll service her, perhaps we’ll do something else. But I do know that it just she and I, together, alone together.

Poor dog

My dog. My boy. He is out of commission, pretty much.

He is suffering, but not in the way I like to see him suffer.

Injury to a vulnerable part of his body has left us being careful and tentative. Loving and ginger. Slow and steady.

I am just back from my trip, still not unpacked, still have emails to get to, still haven’t gotten my sea legs straightened out, and off I go for the night to be with family. It seemed like a good time to go since my boy is healing and has his boys this weekend. My boy is an amazing dad. I like when they have their time, and I don’t want to distract him from that with my service oriented demands.

Not much to report when life interrupts the kink. We are still kink, the service he provides gets no vacation time. I just ask less and pamper more when he is not at peak.

I can’t play with a broken toy, can I??

Get better soon, boy. My hand it itching to get a hold of you.

:-)

8499682985_64902a1fc5_z

Catching up and Inspecting

Sometimes I find out more about what my boy has been up to by reading this blog than by talking with him. I smile broadly as I write this, knowing that john is not a huge talker, but oh, how he loves to write about details sometimes!!!

I am back from my trip, and I am glad to read all he has posted in my absence. I was quite surprised to learn about his medical issue, and all that transpired and lead to the removal of his cock cage that I ordered to be in place. I know it must have been substantial if it caused him to break through a lock. And it was.

I am glad he is ok. I think we have learned from this. Learned more about our bodies and how some of the play we do impacts us.

I have not yet inspected the chores he was ordered to complete. I got home at about 10:30pm last night, and didn’t do anything other than to fall into bed after 13 hours of travel.

I agree with john; we need to talk about how we refer to others in this blog. In general, I don’t like to name names of other people or places, as identifying those things has little to do with the purpose of writing. I spent a good deal of time texting with the woman he was going to go see last night, as I was just getting caught up on the medical stuff that prevented him from seeing her.  I am disappointed for both of them that their date could not take place. I enjoy placing john in this woman’s very capable hands, and I want to write about this part of our relationship and our occasional group dynamics.  I will do that. Just not today. Today, I need to get caught up, I need to get in the shower and get the salty gulf waters out of my hair (oh, how I don’t want to!). I need to head into the office and then I need to come home and spent time with my boy, making sure he is healing.

I also need to thoroughly inspect the chore list I left for him while I was away. He knows that certain pieces of furniture are his responsibility to be kept dust free (or relatively so). One quick look around tells me that he might be slacking in this department, but other than that, I am feeling pleased at all he accomplished.4383468427_298da33807_z

I also need to start meeting the few I want to meet from my “ISO” post. I very select few have piqued my curiosity, and now its about setting up coffee/beer dates. Will I like them? Will they like me?? Will they want to be a part of our world to varying degrees? Will they be willing to serve and play as I seek?? We shall see. The hunt continues. Stay tuned.

 

Disappointment

To say I’m disappointed doesn’t go far enough. Medical issues have forced me to cancel my connecting tonight with a partner I’ve had for some time now AND to break the lock on the chastity device, as I don’t like to involve the vanilla world with my kink world – they can’t consent to being part of it.

Suffice to say that, since I’ve made arrangements to not even go into work on a Thursday (one of my bigger days at the office) and I’m distracted by some nearly debilitating pain, I’m not going to drive to nearly Boston, jump on a T and meet up with this lovely woman. I know she understands, but it’s hard to get such a message right before boarding a plane and have the delights imagined in one’s head swept away by such a thing.

Hopefully things will sort themselves out post-haste and today’s appointment with the medical professional will give me vast improvement over where I am right now.

Pressure builds

She’s been gone since Friday and I’ve been locked since then. I haven’t ejaculated since September 23rd, though I’ve had orgasms since then. But orgasms without ejaculation do nothing to stem the tide of arousal. They’re great, feel wonderful and are oh so amazing, but damn it, I’m still horny after one.

Pressure builds

Pressure builds

And now, at home, alone, no Mistress, no key, already horny. I decide I’ll do more chores. First, outside, I rake the leaves, dressed in only my slave pants and a t-shirt. Then I come inside and clean the tub, naked and plugged. Like I cleaned up the mudroom yesterday, also plugged. And with the roommate gone, I’m wandering around naked doing other chores too. Because, well, I can be naked!

And here I am, having been plugged and horny and wet in the shower. I was shown earlier today a picture of another woman wearing the key to my chastity device around her neck, dangling between her breasts. My Mistress has the other key, in Central America or on some cruise ship miles at sea, I last saw THAT one around HER neck. I’m set to be loaned out for the pleasure and amusement of the other woman Thursday, as she is traveling nearby and we have a relationship of friendship and play. And one of previous service, where I was sold to her for a weekend at the mere price of 30 pieces of silver. My Mistress left one real order for that encounter – don’t let him cum. But other than that, outside our normally negotiated limits, there are none. And I have the strong feeling I’ll be put to service – hard service – teased and then locked right back up and sent back to my Mistress. If I even get unlocked.

It’s all almost exactly what I want in my world of sexual service. And I’m horny beyond all thinking about all of it. I so desperately want out of the cage. I so want to cum. I want to spew. I want cum dripping off the fucking ceiling. I am ready to blow, so completely, so hard, so violently. And. I. Know. I. Can’t! It’s not going to be possible. I am pathetically horny.

But that’s okay, what do I do? I share text messages with another potential partner who wants to play and I talk about plunging my cock into her. Because I’m not horny enough yet. I might just be my own worst enemy. And I might be my worst torturer. Damn it.