In the late night, a plausible fantasy

Last night we had some lovely sex. We had just watched a movie and while she snoozed through some of it, she was restless throughout. She’d already seen it, I had not. She came back from the bathroom at the end of the movie and we coupled, kissing, touching, groping. She allowed me inside her and then teased me verbally the entire time. Well, except for the moments where I was able to silence her with hard thrusting, but that didn’t last long. It can’t last too long when she whispers and I’ve been denied over 70 days. But we settled into some lovely fun playful sex and she grinned at torturing and teasing me, watching me struggle to stave off the cumming that was so very close several times.

Eventually I was able to withstand even most of her whispering and was able to really fuck well, which kind of puts her off her game of teasing and she had enough. She told me so. “Enough” she said. “Down!” she said. Finally she got the right word for her dog “HEEL!” she giggled. And I withdrew. “Damn you, dog… ” she smiled at me.

We settled into bed. The two of us together, tangled, pillow, body, pillows, body, tangles of arms and legs. I was able to pet her and did so. She snoozed, I heard her breathing change, the ragged noises of sleep now coming from her. And despite ourselves having stopped fucking, I was still quite horny. I rolled onto my back, able to still pet her. With my left hand I pet her, with my right, I pet myself. My hand grasped around my cock, still wet from being inside her, still hard from our love making. I pumped it, I stroked it. I remembered her whispers and words. Soon I was near the edge and pumping harder, my balls slapping and making the quintessential jerking off noises. She stirred as I paused from my stroking.

†”Are you touching?”

“Yes Ma’am.”

“Not enough for you, pup?”

“Still horny, Ma’am”

I could hear her smile. “Good, pup. Good. I like you torturing yourself while I sleep. Pet me to sleep again and tease yourself for ten more minutes. Then sleep.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” And so I pet her, waited for her sleeping noises again and spent another ten minutes teasing myself to the edge multiple times while she slept next to me.

When I snuggled in behind her spooning her, my hard cock nestled between her cheeks. She roused again as I so very gently humped against her. “Keep petting me. Keep humping too.” which I did until we both fell asleep tangled with each other. Another lovely night in our big beautiful bed. Another night with my lovely Mistress still holding her virtual leash close while we slept.


†This is the point where the fantasy happens. She didn’t really tell me this, but I was stroking next to her while she slept. And I’m sure she’d be okay with my torturing myself. She’s mentioned it before. A charmed life we lead.

Reminded, again and again

Most often when we’re playing with chastity, it’s because I’m away from her for a weekend or traveling to somewhere. This latest time, I was only down in Massachusetts for a day trip, but I wanted to lock up while I was away. It’s comforting to me sometimes to be locked when I’m away from her even for short duration.

Sometimes when we play its because of a social event such as “Locktober”. Lots of kinky folks play then and last year I was locked from stem to stern of that month, a complete month of lockdown. Thanks social media!

But on these short stints, like we’re on now, it makes it so that I’m constantly reminded of our chastity lifestyle. I can’t predict when she’ll unlock me so in our calendar, where I track our chastity, I find the entry that says “Dog locked” and I edit it. Another day locked, I change the end time. Another morning awakened and she leaves the house before I do? Another few hours added. Constantly, once or twice a day I update the calendar entry, increasing the record of my sentence under lock and key to her. She just discussed our chastity play in a post yesterday and we both recognize that our chastity is not “set it and forget it” – but more like “set it and remind him – again and again”. My chastity, along with my orgasm denial, is something that we play with where the reminder is part of the play. Her reminding me that she’s going to cum and I’m not. Her showing me that she broke out the hitachi yesterday while I was locked and at the office. Her driving me to the edge with her words. Her waking up while I’m kneeling alongside the bed waiting for an erection to subside. All reminders to keep me remembering that I’m under her lock and key, even if I lock myself to start the sentence.

I don’t have any idea when she’ll let me out again. I’ll just keep updating the calendar entry each day as the sentence continues on and on. And we’ll add it all up again at the end of the year again.

Not forgotten!

Sorry to the blog readers that we haven’t really written much but it invariably happens where we go off on an event which derails the writing and then we don’t get back into the swing of things. Add to that added dynamics in the house and patterns in the house have to change and adjust, so one of the things to get dropped is the blog.

We had a lovely time in DC with another 1200 of our closest kinky friends around President’s weekend, but the weather didn’t cooperate enough to allow us to do much tourist wandering, although being on the crew, the weather was absolutely PERFECT. We really do enjoy being part of the crew though it is a lot of work.

So, she and I played together, I got to spend some quality time with Lady J and we had a good time. Given our work schedules we viewed the event as more vacation time for me and was supposed to be vacation time for her as well, with some work sprinkled in. It ended up being a great time (you get the camp you need, not the camp you want), though I was terribly tired by the time we got back home.

And then work took over for us, along with life. I have no complaints. All my stress and problems are minor and first world problems.

Fast forward to March and here we are well into it. We’ve had a lovely few days together lately. She’s discovering that she enjoys Manhattans (the cocktail) and we’re adjusting our home bar to suit. I’m on a trip to NH today so have stopped in a tax free NH liquor store and stocked up for the coming weeks. A party to attend and a beautiful hotel room are in our future tonight before I play the role of Dad with one of the kids tomorrow who has an event 150 miles from home. And yep, I’m driving down there to visit him at the event and then return. Dads in divorced families may do things like this.

Our household situation has changed too. We used to be a communal house of two women and two men. Previous to that we were three women and one man. And right now Chloe is outnumbered, 3-1. And the energy in the house is… off. It’s simply not right. I thrive on the feminine energy that’s normally in the house and Chloe loves that I do. When it was a 3-1 F/m house, she would always smile and smirk at me knowing that I was in service to women all the time. I was doing all my chores not just for Chloe, but for the rest of the women too, even if they didn’t know it. And now, with the wrong energy men in the house I often get a case of the fuck-its wherein I’ll let some of the normal tasks go because the other men in the house are the cause of the mess/dirt/issue. And she’s cutting me some slack on that. She recognizes that the energy is wrong and it is at a polar opposite to how I work. I am actively avoiding the common areas of the house and retreating to the bedroom far more often than I used to. This is a temporary situation. And by the end of April I expect that the house will be back to at 3-1 F/m, perhaps a 3-2 F/M for a little while, which will be difficult – Five people in the same space will be tight – and could be tedious – but we hope the other couples work schedule will work with all of ours and not be too onerous. At the least, the very opposite energy should be out of the house by the end of March and things will get better. And if not, well, it’ll be spring and I’ll just spend that much more time camping!

But we make time for each other and perhaps the opposite energy person has driven us together in some ways. We share our own positive energy together while leaving the other energy behind. We escape to our room and snuggle in.

She has been flirting hard with me the past few days and we’ve been sharing more than just the usual FLR porn, but a combination with couples fucking. She’s been hinting at hard fucking and that’s exactly what I’ve been able to give her a few times this weekend already. It all ends up being in service to her, though I do take a delight in fucking her so hard that it makes her silent. She’s able to make me cum in seconds if she’s able to taunt me verbally, so being able to make her silent is a key skill in being able to fuck her hard and long. So I exploit that where I can. And yet, when I first head into us fucking, I’ll be the one on my knees next to the bed, lapping at her asshole as she moans and wiggles her ass in response to my oral attentions. While that’s happening my hand squeezes my cock to bring it to hardness. If she’s particularly impatient, she’ll taunt me verbally, calling me her dirty boy, ordering me to get my tongue in there. But usually she just lets me take my time, get the cock hard and then dive in deeply to spread her pussy wide open. I often long for her to be more verbal while I’m licking her, but that might end up being self defeating, right? Her words get me hard, and I fuck her once I’m hard. So if she speaks more, I get hard quicker and she gets less oral attention. Well, she wouldn’t have to get less oral attention if she ordered me to keep my face down there and pleasure her that way. Hrmmmm… something to consider.

In the past few days we’ve shared a few robust fucking sessions. This morning she reveled in my struggles to keep from cumming. She also smiled widely as I orgasmed while fucking her, still no spilling. But she also was more than happy to tease me as I came to her afterward, her hand on my stiff prick and her mouth in my ear whispering the dirty things she thinks, driving me to the edge and making me utter “Stop!” – at which time she’d smack my body somewhere.

This has been a terrible random rambling post, but it is a little bit of a flare shot into the sky to let y’all know we’re still here. Your comments and questions are always appreciated. Feel free to say hello. We do enjoy it.

On denial, service and pleasure

We were in bed and both feeling amorous and she wanted to take me inside her. “Get that cock hard… “

I started getting my cock hard for her and she asked “Why aren’t you hard for me already?”

I let her know about how, with the exception of morning wood, it’s rare for me to be able to simply summon an erection without her input into it. Without her asking for it, demanding it, whispering about things – without her involvement. It’s taken a long time to get to that point, but it really is a case that my physical arousal is almost always contingent on her being present and wanting me to be aroused. Sure, there are others that I am with at times and I find my way to arousal, but it does take time.

It was a kind of casual fucking we were sharing and we talked as we entwined our bodies and she took her pleasures from me. “How long has it been since you spilled?”

“44 days” offering that latest denial length.

“What’s the longest you’ve gone… “ I was unable to answer precisely. I knew there was a time of 122 days. And I know there were times of other durations around 100 days, over and under.

“But it doesn’t matter much to me” I said.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m so not worried about cumming any more” I explained as I slowly fucked her. “I like the orgasms I can have, but I’m not so worried about cumming. It’s just not as important as being part of your pleasure.” She smiled, pulled me into her with her leg.

“Go on… “

“I love being part of your pleasure. And it’s cliche, but I really do enjoy pleasuring you.” We paused speaking as we fucked. “Cumming is great, but I don’t like how I feel after and it’s far better feeling you cum around me.” I pinched at her nipple and she gasped. “I feel bad that I sometimes have to stop fucking because I’m too close to cumming. I wish I’d be able to fuck you exactly the way you want and not have to stop. I’m okay with you pushing me out when you’re done. To have me pull out when you tell me to heel, to have me stop once your pleasure is done.”

“I’m done, pull out” she said abruptly. I whimpered and pulled out.

We spoke some more and soon went to bed. She told me to blog about my denial, my service, my orgasms, my cumming.

I find myself in this cliche world that I really do enjoy her taking her pleasure from me. And while it’s sometimes defeating when she orders me to heel, to pull out, I do try to remember that it’s what I’m asking for. And I really do wish that I was able to fuck in whatever way she wanted for as long as she wants. And that she’d be able to speak any of the words and stories she’d like that would drive me crazy would not push me over the edge, but only to the edge where she could have me dangle for minutes on end all while she watches me struggle and writhe and whimper. And in the same way keep me hard, ready and fucking her until she was able to take her orgasm and then be done with me. I’ve mentioned n the past to her that I wish that my orgasm could be triggered by her granting permission – that perhaps I wouldn’t be able to cum unless she uttered some certain words or phrase – that my cumming would be 100% totally within her hands. I wonder sometimes if we could achieve that with training or hypnosis. I’ve been reading some information about the Masters and Johnson technique.

When I do cum, my behavior changes for a few days. It’s not the best of experiences although I’ve tried to become better with it – and I think with some noticeable improvement. But she does like my cumming. She likes my submission in cleaning up after myself and she simply likes making me do it. It’s enjoyable for her to make me cum, so of course she should be having me do so.

And yes, I accept my denial. I enjoy it. I get off on being told I can’t get off. But I’m not one of those people that never ever wants to cum again. Even if she never made me cum again, I’d still want to know that there’s some hope that I will cum. Even if she picks up the goalpost and moves it every week, I need to know that there’s a goalpost out there. “Oh, pup, maybe in summer we can let you cum… “ and then Fusion can come and go and a birthday and then we find ourselves having the last gin and tonic on Labor Day weekend and she can suggest “pup, perhaps you’ll have something to be thankful for in November? You can wait until then, right?” And then we’d find the new year coming around with promises that the present not given might come in the next year. THAT is the kind of denial I’m looking at. I’m not the type that fantasizes about her saying “Pup, we’re locking you up until the next decade, then we’ll throw some dice to see if you cum.” No, not that at all. And yeah, yeah I also do enjoy her whispering to me the stories of my not cumming again… but it does always turn up that we have a goalpost – but just not always. Damn, I’m awfully needy about my denial!

I’m not sure if there’s much of a POINT to this post, but let me try and sum up, as I write a distracted post. I do love pleasuring her. I do love cumming. I do love denial. And I love her tormenting me with her denying my spill. I wish I could fuck better and bring her more pleasure in that way without having to pullout. That’s a real nuisance. But I still very much enjoy our time together and our coupling and her taking pleasure. It’s a beautiful thing and I enjoy being there with her.

His paws

We’ve been wanting a pair of bondage mitts for some time, perhaps even making a pair, though we may not have the tools to do so. This winter I’ve done the dhGate shopping and found us a pair of mitts. Made of genuine faux hide (Where DO they farm these faux, anyway?), they are nice, but obvious low end. We should replace them with a pair of leather ones if we end up enjoying them (spoiler, I enjoy them) – as I have the feeling their lifespan will be minimal. I think dhGate is to generic china made products like Harbor Freight is to tools. Good for a few fun uses, but then count on them breaking and becoming useless.

After the intense teasing session she gave me the other night, sometimes demanding I enter her, sometimes demanding I stay out, but in the end being deep in her while she came… she got up, as she oft does and headed for the bathroom.

When she got back, I was hard, still throbbing from the arousal and from the orgasm, but she knew she wasn’t going to do anything more to either tease me or allow me to play with myself – and now she had a way to prevent my touching that didn’t involved wrapping her cock in steel.

The dogs check out the dogs paws!

The dogs check out the dogs paws!

She came to me with the mitts, taking them from the hook they hung on in our bedroom. They stank of chinese artificial leather and we were letting them outgas while they stared at us and we stared at them for a few days. Yet tonight she was going to wrap those paws around me.

First one hand, then the other as we both figured out how they went on and stayed on. She didn’t lock them, though there are locking buckles. She simply ordered me to leave them on all night.

“I like your paws… ” she said after she got them on. “You can’t really get any stimulation, can you?”

I attempted to rub my hard cock and proved her right.

“I like you like that. It’s a good look.”

She lay herself down in bed and presented her back to me. “Do your job” she said. I got up to my hands and knees to kneel along side her and did my cleaning, then settled in behind her to half spoon her and pet her.

“I like the way those feel, good boy. Pet me with your paws.”

I did like the feel of them. They were good. Not too much in the way, but they did prevent my self stimulation. And they also allowed me to pet her to sleep, which I did.

The paws didn’t hinder my getting up to pee in the middle of the night, in fact, it was quite easy, though there was a risk of a roommate seeing me naked as I walked to the bathroom. We often take that risk.

And in the morning she came in to wake me, some time after she had already awoken. “I liked watching you in your paws this morning. You sleepily tried to play with yourself and I saw your paws in the way… it was cute. ” I smiled.

She removed the paws carefully, not wanting to damage me or the new bondage mitts. And I was able to get up and grab my coffee and start my morning. But my mind also thought of other ways the story might have ended.


I like the way the paws do restrict my access to her cock. I very much like that part. And there’s a little bit of bondage nut in me, so I appreciate that my hands were bound. Not perfectly bound and useless, but certainly befuddled. I couldn’t do many things that people do all the time. No phone, no TV, no jerking off, no making coffee…

And I particularly loved her calling them “my paws”. This was a very strong part of the bondage for me – that she was calling them “my paws”. She is able to pick up on some words sometimes and just use them to really fuck with my head and this was one of those times. It was a lovely mind fuck, I must say. I look forward to the mitts again and having my paws back again. But that may be a while, as she’s going to want all hands on deck when she gets back into town.

The tortured teasing

We were both thinking about her time away that was coming up during a beautiful evening out – lovely dinner – a stage play – returning home. We fell into bed and soon were naked together watching an episode of one of our regular shows. We both enjoyed our bodies together and I was being a little tiny bit aggressive with her in bed. She reacted by pushing back against my aggression and reminding me of my place. I realized it was not one of her moments where she really wanted me to persist on being aggressive. In fact, she was looking for a passive boy. A useful erotic toy.

We made out and I asked her permission to make love to her.

“What does that mean, pup?”

“I really want to feel connected, inside you.”

“Inside me? That sounds a little bit more about your pleasure than mine”

“I want to feel close, deep inside you, coupled with you.”

“Aren’t we coupled now? Do you need to be inside me?”

“We are Ma’am. We are. But I wanted to be inside you as well. Maybe even put you to sleep while inside you?”

“Oh pup, I’m sure you’d enjoy that…. ” She pushed me back form her body and adjusted her pillows, then moved herself more onto her back instead of on her side.


 

“But I’m looking for something more tonight, pup.” She pulled her knees up, signaling to me that she was opening up to my entry. I moved myself to be perpendicular to her, my head on a pillow, my legs tangled with hers.

“But I like the idea of you inside me. I was just thinking about that. About you being completely inside me.” We further adjusted ourselves. I waited with my cock against her pussy. “Just pet me with the head of your cock.” I rubbed her pussy with my cock. “Yes, pup, just like that.” I rubbed my cock from her hole up over hit clitoral hood, back and forth. She moaned.

“I see you six inches tall, pup. Inside me. Fully inside me as I walk around.” She told me the continuing tale of my being miniaturized and her using me like a dildo, leaving me in place as she walks around town. As she enters a bar, uses the bathroom, flirts, goes back to a man’s apartment near the bar…

While she told this tale, she played with herself. I massaged her nipple and she alternated between ordering me to give her more cock and denying my entry to her pussy. Whenever I was mentally able to give her more, she didn’t want it. But when I was straining against spilling my cum, she demanded it. Yes, she was absolutely playing me and we both knew it. I was on edge the entire time, barely the head of my cock entering her at any time.

She kept driving me “Just the head pup… ” and “Put it in me pup, be my sextoy, do it” she would say, taunting me. Her heel kicking my ass to spur me on, her hand ripping at my nipple to order me back out again. I never was able to plunge into her.

She ordered me to calm down and she stopped telling me the story. I breathed deeply, relaxed, calmed. Still my cock head fucked her pussy, but just the head. Her breathing got deeper too, rising and falling higher and lower. She was getting closer. Now it was my turn to pick up the story, which I did. Placing myself in the same place, her 6″ tall dildo of a man being used by her and by the man she picked up at the bar. Both of them using and abusing me, then cleaning me. About how she told the man to not overstimulate me – even if I was a tiny toy, I was not allowed to ever cum.

My whispering now influenced her and she started tensing. Her orgasm was on the way. Now, with her orgasm coming, for some stupid and unknown reason, my brain was fine. I was able to plunge deep into her, fill her as she came and that’s exactly what I did. I drove deep, she pulsed and squeezed. I adjusted and dove deeper, she pulsed more. Finally I was all the way in and she rode out her orgasm.

I kissed her hand, I licked her fingers clean as she offered them to me.

“Out, pup.” I withdrew from her warmth with a whimper and sidled up to her. She cupped my balls and squeezed them.

I asked permission to have an orgasm. “Quickly pup, I’m ready to sleep now.” I cycled the sexual energy around inside me and held her tightly and within 15 seconds I was shouting into the pillow with my orgasm, pumping and pulsing my body but the semen staying safely within my body. Near the end a drop found its way out onto her arm. I cleaned it with my mouth and settled in next to her again. Thanking her, I held her close until she got up to use the bathroom one last time before bed.

When she returned, she did not come to bed empty handed, but smiled as she spied my body in the bed. Naked, the covers still thrown back from her getting up, my cock jutted upward, still throbbing and hard. “That’s beautiful” she said with her smiling body. And then I saw what was in her hands…

Denial and torture in the midnight hour

lounging woman

From Chloe: We went to bed fairly late last night after many rounds of “Cards Against Humanity” with friends. I was still a bit keyed up. Tired, but energized too.  john on the other hand seemed sleepy. We entangled ourselves within the covers and I knew right away that I would be using him for sex. That is what I wanted… sex. A big cum, a big stretch, and a good sleep. He would be my fucktoy and I used him for exactly that.

Of course he was denied any hope of having a cum himself. He struggled with his composure, and my grinding and squeezing didn’t seem to help much.  I wanted silence. I wanted to concentrate on my own thoughts, my own desires. He was ordered to be exactly what I wanted him to be… a silent, obedient, hard, thrusting cock that I would use and then toss aside when I was finished.

And pretty much, this is what I got. He had a few minutes of challenge, unable to fuck the way I wanted him to fuck, but eventually, he got the job done. When I was done riding those last, few blissful waves, he asked me for permission to beg to be allowed to cum. I slowly smiled, expecting this request from him. I granted permission, and he started to ask permission in whispered tones. I was not impressed. This was not begging. This did not sound desperate. It was far too polite and tame for my tastes.

I was harsh with him, practically growling at him to beg in earnest. Dammit, if he wanted a cum, then he had better earn the opportunity for me to even consider such a thing.

And so he did. I pulled him deep within me, started ordering him to fuck me deeper and harder, and demanded that he show me how hungry he was. He did… I could hear that desired quivering in his voice where composure and grit meet and clash. I wanted this from him. I wanted to hear it in his voice.

I told him no. I told him ‘absolutely, NO!’ There would be no cumming for him tonight. There would be no cumming for him for a long, long time. I told him the truth that he loves/hates to hear… that cumming for him is not something that will happen.

He whimpered. And I smiled. And my smile spread the more he whimpered.

I didn’t know that a smile could be heard. Not seen, but heard. And it was true, I was smiling at his discomfort.  He told me as much. “I can hear your smile”, he said quietly, reaching over to feel my face, confirming his suspicion. It made me smile more… harder, louder.

And I thought about that… hearing a smile. I was smiling at his despair. I was smiling at his struggle. I was smiling because he is this beautiful puppet on my scratchy string, and I smile because he loves being there. I smile at his honesty about loving to hate what he loves and hates. It’s the denial. It’s the chase. It’s the power. It’s as though he gives me this gift of his desire for safe keeping, and I abuse it. I abuse him. I crumple up his requests in my fist and toss them aside. Doing so makes me smile. And my smiling makes him happy.


From john: What Madame wrote is all completely true in all its delightful playfulness.

We did retire to bed and I was sleepy. I had been in service all night. Making cocktails, serving food, cleaning up, doing my best to serve all of our friends. I knew she was pleased. And it probably brought us back from my rocky waking from our afternoon nap (I was cranky when I woke). So I took my cranky self and poured it into just serving my owner and our guests and we had a lovely wonderful time. Everyone was having simply beautiful warm house gathering. Nothing too loud, nothing too over the top. No big meal, just a bunch of small plates and beautiful cocktails. And then some Cards – which I never seem to do well with.

But we retired to our bed after the guests had left and roommates retreated to their own bedrooms. I cleaned up the bedroom as I waited for roommates to do their bathroom time, then finished off my night doing my bathroom tasks, returning to find her beautiful self all cuddled up among the seven pillows, the warmth of the electric blanket having warmed the bed from corner to corner and giving her a cozy cocoon to nest into.

I came sleepily to the side of the bed, collared myself and slipped to her side, but she was, as she indicated, still a little wired and soon I found myself kneeling in front of her and cleaning her while she lay back. She reached down to find out the status of her cock and with some disappointment in her voice asked “Isn’t he happy to be unlocked?”

“Of course, Ma’am. I’m just focused on my duties…” I mumbled out from between her legs.

“Get in there deeper” she told me as I cleaned her. “Stick it in there.” These words had their effect – the effect she knew she’d have on me. Soon her hand was grasping a full and hard cock. She directed my oral attention to her pussy now “Get it wet, nice and wet”. Her hand left my cock and grabbed at my head, pulling my hair and pulling me away from her pussy and down into the proper position for her to be fucked in just the way she wanted.

I lay back on the bed on my side, my legs entwined with hers, my cock positioned at her opening where she opened up to me and pulled me deeply with her leg. We both paused and just enjoyed the feeling of being coupled again, entwined, tangled, her enjoying the full feeling and I enjoying the beautiful warmth and grip of her. Her hand danced over her pussy and rubbed her clit in the way only she can find. She directed my fucking, ordering me to fuck her deeper and harder. I resisted, not out of disobedience but because I would not be able to keep from cumming if she persisted. Several minutes into this teasing, I started talking to her, complimenting her. Thanking her for letting me into her beautiful pussy, telling her how much I love to watch her cum, to be used by her and be part of pleasure. I think some of my words helped her, but she shushed me and just had me fuck her.

This is the nature of it, where I’ll be an itchy trigger finger in the first few minutes of sex, then I’ll get past it and be able to service her more suitably. Now I was able to be used by her more aggressively, more soundly. I fucked her as she wished, pushing deeply into her and grinding with her. Her fingers still danced, her hips ground, I fucked, she came.  A nice big beautiful slowly built orgasm, all toppling down and around us both, falling in pieces on the bed and around the bed. She acknowledged my efforts… something like “Now that was a good fuck.”

“May I beg?” I meekly inquired.

“Oh, pup, you may.”

Sculpture "Adoration" by Gustav VigelandAnd so I did, sliding deep into her and asking “Please may I cum?”

And it was as she wrote, I didn’t start with earnest begging. But soon, my arousal increasing while she was still in the afterglow of her own pleasure, I was desperate to cum. She answered all my pleading with all the answers I expected. “Of course you’d clean it up!” “That’s only if I let you.” “Why should you spill?” “The only cum you’ll get is Marks as he fucks your throat.” “You’re hardly what I would call begging.” all these responses to drive my arousal, to hear me whimpering. That’s when I heard it. I whimpered, like a dog, with some words around the whimper, but the whimper is what she wanted. She had driven me into a desperate state and denied me and all to get me to this place – where I would be inside her, desperate to cum, yet denied and emit that whimper that she loves.

“I can hear you smiling.” I said. Her smiled grew – I heard it. I absolutely heard it. And it was almost as if she didn’t believe me. But I knew I was right and that she was still taking her pleasure from me. In telling me “no” while teasing me, that orgasm of hers carried on  – pleasure from a different stimulus now. My cock throbbed, she smiled, she denied, she pulled me in with her leg.

I pulled out quickly “No! no no no no no no no” I lay back away from her, “no no no no no ” I hoarsely whispered. She knew I was at the ultimate edge. Without exaggeration, this was where a single word from her or a touch from her could send me over. I held my body tight, taut, tensed, I held my PC muscle as tightly as I could. The orgasm cycle was spinning up and relaxing would let it flow, so I held the muscle tightly. It felt like several minutes that I held the pose. Arched back, tight loins, breathing in short stabbing breaths, all waiting for it to slow.

Finally I was able to relax, loosening the PC, loosening my back, laying back, my cock throbbed and pulsed and a small dribble appeared on the head.

“Closest ever” I muttered. She knew it too. There were times where I had fallen off that edge. There were times when I was not quite to that pinnacle. But this, this one was a new peak. And she smiled. And she laughed. And she enjoyed torturing me, enjoyed using me and things were not over with her orgasm- after she had used me. Things were only over after she abused me too – tortured and teased me. Taken me all the way up and then watching me come crashing down in frustrated throbbing and begging. It wasn’t over until she was smiling and pulling me into her to spoon her, my hard cock nestled into her ass cheeks and to not feel release, but to feel her warm body in front of me as we drifted to sleep.

Sexual Sadist?

2

I really like John’s post from yesterday. I too read it as a reader- as an observer.  I didn’t know he was posting such a thing, and I certainly didn’t see him working on any graphs. It was a delightful surprise to me to see it. And it got me thinking about how different our approach is to his chastity and denial.

I don’t lock him up for the numbers. I don’t deny him to make the graph look sharper. I don’t engage in this behavior to make one year stronger than the next. So…..if I don’t do it for those reasons, then why do I do it??

The short answer is that I don’t know. I just do it.  Many times, john is the perpetrator of the lock-down. I never asked for, nor did I order, the purchasing of his new devices. I simply have made comment that I like the look of certain contraptions, and voila….a couple of them arrived in the mail. He knows the rule…..if he is going to be away from me  for a night or more,  he gets locked up. The reason is simple: I just like and want it that way. But on other days, with other opportunities, he’ll just take it upon himself to sport a cage or insert a plug. He’ll be fairly sneaky about it too, waiting hours before he’ll snap a photo of himself during the work day and sent it to me….the metal tube poking out of the fly of his pants, accompanied by a bright yet sheepish smile.

The ejaculation denial is something I have more control of. I like him in a perpetual state of desire; there is a lot of fun in that particular playground. It’s a psychological kind of thing. He lusts, I tease, he begs, I deny. Edging. It’s what we do, and we do it well.

Sometimes I do things to john, or order him to do things to himself because, simply put, I am mean. I am part sadist and we both know it. I love the sweet torment that accompanies all of this. I take pleasure from fierce begging and the firm denial. I see what it does to him. I see how his eyes change, how his head thrashes, how his fingers curl. It can be a beautiful thing to watch a beautiful man chew his own knuckles.

And, sometimes too, I do things to john because I know he loves to hate the things he loves. This is a different sort of nudity, a different kind of exposure. It reveals a vulnerability in a strong man that I don’t otherwise get to see. John can and does often steward his own ship, which might seem odd considering we live a FLR, but think about it….he is making my job as owner and leading lady easier. At the end of the day, we want the people we love to be loved and happy. I like that he has passions that I get to share, but don’t always have to orchestrate. I cannot be, nor do I ever want to be, the architect for all of the things that make us sexually dizzy. That would be too much work for me. I am simply not interested.  But I DO love that he will take that lead, put us on that path, and then hand over the leash. To me, these things are the makings of a true submissive. He knows what makes him happy, and he gives that power to me after securing it.

I am curious as to what 2018 might bring to us. I don’t know if we will alter any trends or break any records. These things are not the point. But I do know that we both enjoy it. Especially the denial piece. The part I want to work on? Getting better at the edging thing. I have been responsible for his spilling, because at the end of the day, biology rules. So, here’s to 2018. May my force be with us. :-)

 

Cum and go

 

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Dogs. Their behavior.

Unpredictable at times, it seems.

Nothing is wrong, nothing has happened other than life happening. But that said, I have noticed something of a shift today. Or maybe it was last night, and I didn’t notice. But something is different. I have my suspicions, I’ll write about them here, and maybe my dog will read this post and it will generate a conversation. Okay if it does, okay if it doesn’t. Either way, it won’t really change how I am feeling right now.

My dog had a big, beautiful cum Saturday night. He wasn’t supposed to do that, but he did. And really…..he didn’t even get in trouble for it because it was that big, and it was that beautiful.

We played Saturday night. At the event. The picture in this post is from that scene. I liked the web-like device I had him crawl into as I beat him. He liked that web-like device he  was made to crawl into. It is a simple piece, but I love the way it looks. I caned him good and hard while he lay entangled. It was pretty hot… so much so that he had an orgasm without ejaculation while being caned. I love when that happens… it’s truly an amazing thing.

From that room, with the web bed, we moved to another room. In this room were no fewer than 26 queen sized mattresses. They filled the entire space of that room…..wall to wall mattresses. Some were stacked 4 mattresses deep, others two deep. It was a Minecraft of mattresses, all covered in clean, white sheets. The point of this room is that couples can enter the space and occupy a stacked pile and have a sense of separateness from the other piles….the other coupled couples.

I chose our pile, and we started to slowly sink into one another. We didn’t fuck, we didn’t rape or beat. We made sweet, penetrating love. I think what turned us on was a myriad of things. The earlier beating. The naked time in a group setting. The collar. The kink that surrounded us. All of it, really. But I do know for me that I got pretty turned on by knowing we were in room with 3 other couples who were sharing their own versions of intimacy. I could hear the love making all around me, but because of the different heights of stacked mattresses, I could not really see what was going on around me. If I looked (and I did), I could see a stockinged leg or an arching foot, but that was really about all.

My boy and I were really into one another in that moment. It was sweet and tender and it was driven by our hunger for one another. I used my boy and had a big cum as he pushed deeply inside me. My cumming pushed him over the edge. As my orgasm intensified, it grab at him… squeezing, pulling, clutching. It was more than he could bear and he could hold on no longer. He spilled. He spilled a lot. He spilled the contents of 45 days of not spilling. His cum was like my cum… hard, hungry, happy. We lay gathered in one another and smiled. There would be no punishment for this, because it was perfect and I was happy and that was all that needed to matter.

I don’t know if it is biology or psychology but damn… I have come to my conclusion: Every time my boy has an ejaculation, things are different for at least a week. There seems to be something about his deep and gathering hunger when he is denied cumming for prolonged amounts of time that make him become more compliant. More submissive. More slave-like. More proper. More… I dunno… more everything. It is as though that once he has that biological release, he has a psychological one too. I can’t say that I like it all that much. It can be confusing. Unpredictable. I can’t say that I am a big fan of this. I like him to be consistent. I already cornered the market on inconsistency; that ship sailed some time ago. I should know – I am the Captain of it, after all.

So, here we are… in a quiet moment, in a quiet month. It was an excellent weekend, it really was. No complaints, but rather observations. Last night had me feeling withdrawn. He seemed a bit snippy. Short. As though he forgot his manners. I pull and prod at him all the time to keep his mind and mouth open because he has the propensity to get too quiet sometimes. We are living proof that opposites attract, and his quiet overall as a personality type is something I have become used to. So, when the quiet gets quieter, it pushes me beyond my comfort zone. Not too far from it, but enough so that I withdraw a bit and wait for his balls to start to fill again. Because when his balls become full, his mind steadies and his submission rises. That is what I am used to, that is what he aspires to. It’s just weird to be right next to someone and to feel like they are miles away.

I shrug. This too shall pass.

I’m getting changed

Things have been crowded at our home lately with my kids shoehorning themselves into the household dynamic. Madame is graciously giving us space in the master suite while she takes another bed. Because the alternative of all of us sharing the same space, with two teenage boys, is a little off. Today she informed me with a wink that she was getting changed before she headed to the beach to join some friends for sun and sand. Naturally, I went to join her and help her out of those restrictive clothes.

Finding an opportunity, she grabbed a dresser and stuck out her bottom and I did some cleaning for her, as she had been missing this aspect of our evening rituals. Then we lay down on the bed together, me naked, her partly clothed, me servicing her with her cock and she laying back and enjoying.

“I’m sorry I can’t give you the fucking you want… you keep me at the edge so long… ”

“Do you think I don’t know how to get what I want from that cock? Do you think that I’m not getting exactly what I want, boy?” she replied as she lay back and took my cock into her.

We fucked slowly and intensely, my cock swelling thick and hard, he pussy getting wet. I knew the point that I leaked into her, something slightly more than pre-cum seeping into her, she felt it too. We smiled together.

She touched my face, my hair, I licked her hand.

“May I orgasm please?” I asked. She knew it was just an orgasm, not an ejaculation and granted my request. I licked at her hand again, gripped into myself and pushed myself into a beautiful orgasm, just feeling all those good tense points inside as they pulled and pushed. I whimpered, close to cumming, but just orgasming while in her. She smiled at me. I pulled the muscles tighter and let them go again, orgasm still flowing.

We soon fell into a nap together, drifting in and out of slumber and sleep, she drifting in and out of dream cycles. I, relaxing, drifting, feeling us together. As my cock waned and slipped from her, she stirred, but it was just another dream cycle. I held my place while she slumbered. It was a beautiful nap. A beautiful time. I was very much her pet, her partner, her slave, her owned property, all at the same time.

I am so happy with my vacation these past two weeks or so. It’s been a delight. I will write more later. But today was just heavenly.