Write or not…

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

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

Just unsure of where to go with it…

 

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

“Mouth!”

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

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

And that was it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

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

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

A brief moment

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

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

It’s the little things…

Our evolving relationship

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tracked!

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

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

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

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

“I’d like Her to insist on it.”

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

“Yes Ma’am” I replied with a smile.

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

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

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

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

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

Another day, another day, another day

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

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

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

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

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

Flattered

He strokes

He strokes

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

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

Om nom nom…

I recall a night a couple weeks ago. We had some time to ourselves in the house, a rare treat this winter. She was putting together some leftovers from a big chicken dinner we made and asked if I wanted a plate. “Sure, that’d be great, thanks.”

“Okay, everything in it? ”

“Yes, please”.

A few minutes later she called to me, as I sat at my computer doing something that probably wasn’t anything to do with youtube. Not I.

She put her plate down on the table and sat down.

“Is mine in the kitchen?” I asked.

“No, it’s right here.”

“Ummmm….” I looked at her, puzzled. She looked down at the floor. I looked down at the floor. I saw the bowl. I smiled. She smiled.

“You’re overdressed, pup.” I stripped, knelt on the floor next to her and waited.

“Okay, pup. Good for you, remembering your manners. It’s been a while since you ate like a proper dog.” I ate, tasting all of the expected items. Chicken, gravy, stuffing, some cranberry sauce and… wait a second. What was this? What are these little brown nubbie things in the bowl??? Was it? I picked one up and crunched it. She reached her hand to my head as she heard me crunching on the kibble she had added to my dish. There were a few pieces in there, maybe a dozen or so, but definitely enough to be noticed and to be a significant enough part of the meal. I’m not sure if she noticed that my cock swelled as I figured it out, as I crunched on the first few, as she pet my head and I ate the dog food she had placed before me.

I cleaned it all up, licking the bowl, she brought me some water to drink from another bowl and then she took me to the bedroom for some other activities she might have a dog perform… some special tricks she has me do for her.

Woof!

Yet another Winter Fire write up, but different…

My write up of Winter Fire is different, most likely because my event was different. I don’t need to discuss, in detail, much of the activitie, because, honestly, there were not a lot of kinky things. It was not that kind of event for me this time.

My play was finite, it was lovely, it was fun, but aside from one piece of dungeon equipment I could likely have had that play almost anywhere and not in a luxury hotel takeover. ;) Alright, fine, I could not have demo bottomed just anywhere. That one too.

I went into Winterfire with great fatigue from work. My work is not manual labor, it’s office work. Just pressures of “all the things” that I have to do and other people cannot do. It’s very easy to say that I am indispensable at work. Indispensable is good, until you can’t get away without being pestered. My personal life is going well right now, relationships are good and positive, I’ve found new family members and overall the extended family is talking more. And my volunteer efforts are… proceeding. Proceeding forward even if not the best performance possible, but I have a plan for that.

I looked at Winter Fire as an escape from work. I go, I work my tail off, I set up all the kinky wonderful things for you perverts to use and I sit around drinking bourbon while you use it. Sometimes I’ll take some time to use the space as well. Then I tear it all down a few hours after you’ve gone to bed on Monday morning, pack it into trucks and put it all away for the rest of the winter until Fusion shows up. It’s physically demanding, mentally stimulating and I get to work with a bunch of really wonderful people who have the same work ethic. We also share two awesome meals together. That’s my “job” at Winter Fire. It’s a rewarding and fun job and I do love so many of the people I do it with and I’ve made great friends with so many of them. I truly missed some of them this time around and look forward to hearing why I didn’t see them.

So I went to Winter Fire with zero planned playdates, just one possible fantasy to fulfill and a whole lot of relaxing to do. Chloe was planning to fly down and join me in the hotel room for a couple days, without doing all the work like I do on the crew this time. The weather was so beautiful that Saturday, Chloe and I rented City Bikes and wandered around the capital, the mall, several of the monuments and then back to the overflow hotel City Bike parking. It was a GREAT morning. Saturday night, we played a game together where we each picked three toys, put them in a drawer and gave each other 10 minutes with each toy. THAT was a blast and it was so much fun switching with Chloe that way.

The chicken wing cum shot from Winter Fire 2017

The chicken wing cum shot from Winter Fire 2017

Sunday we found ourselves hungry and at a nearby pub for some lunch. It’s where this photo was taken. Look at that slut of mine, those juices dripping down her face. She took it all and it dripped down her face. She really does love wings. Reconnecting with Chloe amid all the kink and play and fun was likely the biggest highlight of my weekend. And we did most of that outside dungeons or sex-o-rama or any place else that was deigned as “kinky” space.

After lunch we ended up at the overflow hotel dungeon where we played some games. I made the sound system work (a little) and massaged Chloe, then beat her while we listened to some quality Pandora scene music. We then found our way to a metal massage table with a hole down the middle, so you can get to all the juicy boy bits as they dangle. She used her scarf and my belt to bind me to the table and then she tortured me. It was a beautiful time. Then back to our room where I helped her pack and walked her to the train station.

I demo bottomed for a cock-torture class while Chloe struggled to make her flight on time and was a participant in what was most likely a world record cock and ball tie-up releasing helicopter simultaneous removal! 20 bound up cocks and balls all being helicoptered off at the same time. It was quite a sight! Fun presenters as well.

After all that, I found some reconnect time with the lovely LJ, who was happy to have time with me, as I was happy to have time with her. We spent some time talking about her world and what she’s doing, or trying to do, with her life and place and all these things while I packed up the room for the impending check out at 8 am the next morning. We had a great time both in a hotel room and at the nearby noodle house.

And this was my Winter Fire. I didn’t work for my day job much, I got good manual labor in. I had fun. And most importantly, I relaxed. And outside of the first night, I didn’t really drink all that much – I was startled at the amount of bourbon I brought home this time!

Sometimes, though we love to be kinky as fuck, we just want a weekend hotel getaway away from our lives. Some time to sit on the bed and watch TV without guilt. Time to surf that porn or make some porn of your own. And this is sometimes just what we need and want in our world. This was my time to have that. I had a great time at Winter Fire, even if I wasn’t the kinkiest kinkster to ever kink a kink. But damn, those wings, she’s such a slut for wings.

What does FLR mean to me…

I’ll continue along with answering the question of “What does a FLR mean to me?” It’s one Chloe asked me a few months ago, during a time when we went into some troublesome territory. The answer is not quick, nor easy, nor that concise. So I continue to answer this as I consider it.

One of the things I do in our world is handle our tech. I try to balance our tech life, keep it workable, useful, modern and affordable. Like many, I’ve been seeing and hearing a lot about cell phone providers coming up with new plans and trying to poach other customers to their network. I’ve been watching since Christmas. I’ve also been waiting for Mistress’ “contract” to expire on our plan. Now that we’re both month to month, I looked into the change and hit the stores this weekend. I hit our current provider and one of their competitors. I came back to Chloe with the answers and when she got in from her errands on Saturday, I told her “So, wanna get new phones?” After explaining, we went down, signed the papers, she ordered the phone she wants, which is on its way, but we had to wait for it to ship.

So, I did the research, planned the plan, and organized all of the billing things so that in my world, I’m only about 10% more on my expenses for phone and I included two of the offspring into this plan with better phones.

I will still need to upgrade her phone once it arrives, which is pretty easy. But I’ll make that happen.

So my service for her has been to be aware (constant!), be vigilant to deals (found some!) and suggest changes to how we do all these things. And I think I hit the nail on the head with all of those. This is what she counts on from me. She isn’t a luddite, but she doesn’t want to “worry” about the tech. I’m the one to wrangle all that. And I think I got it right.

Now I just have to have her phone ready, installed, full of her music for her trip upcoming – then I’ll be done with that side of the project. And we should be okay for the next couple years.