Caribbean Dungeon

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The Caribbean island of St. Croix was wonderful. Parts were still obviously ravaged from the hurricanes but signs of rebirth and regrowth were everywhere. My best friend and I were visiting friends, and slept in the guest house of friends of these friends….two wonderful men who offered up their extra nest during our stay.

We spent a good part of each day sitting lazily underneath their deep, wide patio, covered in deep shade, which was needed as the sun was strong. Before us was a sweeping view of the sea, and we were lucky enough to be able to look out over the bluest of blue parts of that long stretch of island coast. Usually, we spent morning and late night hours on the patio talking and drinking coffee or other spirits. Early in our stay, we were told a story that I find myself thinking about a lot. Here it is:

We were told that the guest house we were staying in was once a dungeon. The former owner of the house had build the guest house as a place to keep her male slaves. After quickly determining that these were consensual slaves, the story became much sexier to me, and I was curious to learn more without seeming toooo interested. They know I’m kinky, and live a FLR with my boy, but I keep the details vague around the vanillas.

It seems that this Mistress lived happily on the island and was well known and liked by the locals. She built her dungeon to fit in, so from the outside, it gleamed no additional attention. But the inside was a vastly different story. I wasn’t able to get too many details, as our friends didn’t really know her personally, but the stories proceeded her.

I laid in bed during those mornings, the french doors wide open overlooking the sea, and would lounge in sleepy daydreams about this woman, wondering what her world was like. I looked around at the brightly colored, stucco walls, speculating what it must have looked like as a dungeon. The guest house wasn’t a large space, but it was certainly a creative space. The main living area was two stories, with a bedroom loft area off to the side.  Sturdy beans once held chains and bondage devices. Steel rings were built into the walls that now held local art, but once upon a time, they held local males, locked in shackles that confined them to this space.

I was told that these boys….men, toys, slaves…..would work nearly naked on the property, working the lawns, gardens, patio areas. I could picture them in my imagination, making a beautiful place more beautiful, their tanned skin glistening in the hot sun, the vibrant sea blue as the backdrop.  I would then picture them at night,  serving their Mistress, her friends, stepping into the night shadows when their service wasn’t immediately required.

Everything about this property seemed happy, joyous. It just had that energy about it. Everything about it flowed. The inside of the main house transitioned seamlessly to the outside spaces when the shudders and sliding doors were open wide. The patio encompassed the house, and a short path lead to the slave quarters. Everything was open and connected. Lush greenery created a natural fence affording all the necessary privacy. Twinkling lights and large candles cast soft lighting. Magical, to say the least.

I came home after that trip and shared the tale with my boy. But it was a hard story to share, because most of what I could tell about that dungeon was what I created in my own imagination. I find myself drifting off in fantasy about this place, about what it might be like to live like that. And in many ways, I DO live like that Mistress. I live in a sweet place, with a lovely slave. He serves me, he serves friends, he works the yard. I know from private messages I get that others are curious about us, about the way we live, and express a harmless jealousy that my boy and I get to do the things we do.

Imagination is a wonderful thing. Especially when it is built on real life pillars. Now, if I could only have that Caribbean blue outside my front door….

 

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Paws in the morning

I already mentioned our first try out of the paws and we did end their use in the morning, but I have a mind that wanders. More accurately, I have an incredibly pornographic and fantasy laden mind. And my mind wandered into that land while I was rousing in the morning. Here’s where my mind wandered…


Slowly I woke, my mind rousing, wondering if last night happened. My hands – or lack thereof – reminded it had happened. Like many mornings I woke with an erect cock and my hands tried to touch it but that wasn’t possible, given the mitts on my hands. I was fortunate she had not clipped them together or to any places where she might have locked them into a static place.

I thought I smelled bacon and toast. I knew I smelled coffee.

She came into the room, shutting off our white noise generator and patted me on the head. Her hands checked out my mitts – still completely secure.

“Come on, pup, time for the morning pee” she told me as she clipped the leash to my collar. Still drowsy I was roused quicker with a snap of the leash. Leaving bed, I was clad only in my collar and leash and the mitts on my hands. There was no way I could have put on my glasses. “Roommates are gone, pup, so let’s get you outside so you can do your business.”

I must have looked at her with some kind of look of incredulity.

“Oh, pup, it’s fine. Trust me” she smiled as she spoke.

Our home is odd with three doors to get to the outside. It’s quite the gauntlet. We got to the final door right before getting outside and I balked. She yanked on the leash twice, pulling me toward the door. I remained in the house. We live in a highly residential neighborhood. With kids around. I was not going outside in daylight so exposed. She knew it too. And she didn’t expect me to walk outside. But she did leave me standing there at the door as I got colder.

“It’s okay, boy, you don’t have to go out. Turn around.” She pushed my shoulders to spin me around and I saw in my blurry vision a bucket. She kicked it with her toe. “Come on pup, do your business.” I exhaled a couple times and was finally able to relax and pee into the bucket. There was no way for me to pinch it off with my finger, so I just did my best by exercising my PC muscle instead.

“You’ll take care of that before you leave for work, pup.”

“Of course, Ma’am.”

She led me back in the house and into the dining room. My smelling bacon was correct. And toast. I didn’t notice the eggs with my nose, but there they were. In a bowl. On the floor.

“You don’t seem grateful pup. I know you can’t handle utensils with your paws, so I made your breakfast bite sized!”

I really didn’t mind. In fact my cock did pulse a little thinking of all this, but there was one real problem with the meal; the eggs. They hadn’t quite gone cold, but they were, at best, tepid. And I loathe cold eggs. It’s almost a hard limit. But no doubt she knew this and still presented me this meal.

“Thank you Ma’am. Thank you for breakfast” I said as I got down on my hands and knees and got on with eating. It wasn’t that bad, but that texture of tepid scrambled eggs. With tepid cheese… I wasn’t gagging but on the path.

She also set down a mug with a straw to give me some coffee. The straw was an incredibly generous touch by her. It sure beat lapping it up from a dish and I appreciated that.

She sat near me as I ate, her foot occasionally tapping my body in various spots as I ate and she typed and sipped coffee. When I finished, I moved to her and kissed her foot as a thank you and lay down on the floor next to her. A few minutes later I was grateful for the opportunity to use the bathroom before my shower. She removed the mitts, the collar and bade me shower. When I was done, she directed me to clean the dishes from the floor and the bucket in the mudroom, which I did. Then I dressed and we made our way to our respective jobs. My morning was good, I would reflect as coworkers wished me “good morning” – and I smirked as I did so.

“Good morning, indeed!” was my typical reply.

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…

Less clothing option

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I’m all packed, ready to go. Tomorrow at this time, I’ll hopefully be taxing down the runway, lifting off and away from the cold, grey skies and heading south. Off to the Caribbean tomorrow with my best friend to go see our housemate, who spends deep winter in the deep south.  Bus to Boston tonight, a quick overnight, and then away we go.

The only thing left to do is to lock up my boy, review with him the list of chores I expect  him to accomplish while I am gone, grab my bags and go. I’ll miss my boy terribly, but am comforted to know we have another trip on the heels of this one where we go to a 5 day kinky event together. I am looking forward to that too!

So, my dear dog, here is the list of things you’ll do while I am away:

Return returnables.

Make sure bathroom is sparkling clean upon my return.

Clean out that dryer hose I have been talking about.

Contact lucky and Ms. J and settle up with them.

Shoes. You will work on shoes…..yours and a few of mine need a bit of polishing love bestowed upon them. Do it.

Check in with my dad, plan on going over after work one day and having cocktail/dinner with him.

Contact our lovely friend Ms. C and see if she needs anything since she is still on crutches.

I would like that computer cabinet to be fitted to hold computers and cords better. Surprise me with your craftiness!

I will be gone 8 days. You are permitted to consume alcohol for 4 of these days. You decide which ones.

Miss Me. This is a very important order.

And finally, blog. I won’t be able to while I am away, so post a few times.

I’ll see you in a week, my lovely pet. Be the good boy you are, enjoy your week, enjoy the quiet, keep yourself busy and happy. I’ll bring you back a present. :-)

 

Bon Voyage, all!

She’s headed away

She’s headed out tomorrow. Last night we had a lovely time together both out in town and then at home. We had excellent together time and excellent playtime and we both had a lovely night.

Tonight we had a nice dinner (nothing spectaular, but was at home and tasty) and I know that I was feeling multiple things. Well, I’m a little sad because it’s February 1st and I’m usually sad on this day, but it doesn’t permeate my soul as deeply as it once did. And I’m stressed that she’s leaving. I also have feelings of… longing? Sadness? Loss? No.. none of those words. But I do feel like last night was some awesome play and I don’t think we give ourselves enough time to play in that way. And I miss it after we have it because I know it’ll be a while before we go there again. Sure, we live a lifestyle of 24/7 – which we both love – but the last night play – well, I’ll miss it before it comes around again. And maybe that makes me selfish. But aren’t we always reading things and then saying things that “we should play more often” and “live your life out loud” and “don’t be afraid to be a bitch to me like that more often… ” Okay, so that last one is all me and totally selfish. But I know that we had a good time with it, like we always do and now I miss it because I know we won’t do so again until she’s back home – another week from now.

And then work calls and there’s a problem, so I have to fix that. And that raises my tension. And then I can’t get back to sleep mode because I’m wired. Damn it. And I can’t even lay in bed and masturbate because it just doesn’t “feel right” to stroke myself in the bed next to her like that… And that’s likely to be one of my last opportunities for a while, because she’s locking up her cock tomorrow morning.

So, I’m dealing with some loss all around. My February 1st loss, my loss of my partner for a week, loss of play for a week or so… yeah, that seems to be it. And work hitting me in the face while I’m trying to deal. And it all kinda sucks.

But I’m happy to have written this down – so I can realize that what I’m feeling is a ton of loss. It’s all first world problem shit, I know. But it still is stressing me. I remain in a blessed life. This I know.

Pussy Screaming

Earlier this week, while in bed, my boy and I were sharing a bit of grown up playtime. We were beneath the covers, entangled in one another, and I took him by a fist full of hair and pushed him down, face first, between my legs. I ordered him to pleasure me, to lick me, to clean me, and he did. But on this night, it wasn’t enough for me, and my sadistic cravings were in full force.

I had him get up on his knees and shift his body so that his face was at the lower half of my body, and his ass was up by my shoulders. This gave me perfect access to his dangling cock and balls. I took one of his balls in my fist and started to squeeze. Slowly, tightly, firmly.

His response was to press his face deeper into my dark and womanly parts. It seemed to be a natural coping strategy for him as he sought to manage the pain….sort of like yelling into a pillow. But not.

The squeezing and torturing of his balls continued. I did not let up, I did not back off, and I continued to crush and grind his balls. I took my nails and dug into the tip of his swollen cock. It was edging of a different kind, for it almost brought him to the point of break.

His mouth was fully pressed into me. My pussy, my ass. He shifted slightly so that his mouth fit perfectly over my larger, softer opening and he started to scream as my fist brought him to the very edge of tolerance. I held my grip perfectly. And he screamed beautifully.

None of this is new to us. We have played like this so many times in the past that it is almost routine for us. But what was different this time is that his mouth was like a lid, keeping everything inside of me, letting nothing escape. His screams, his cries had no place to go except up and in. I could feel the baritone pitch as it vibrated off of my insides. I could literally feel my cervix absorb his guttural screams as they echoed and reverberated. I pushed his head a bit lower so that his mouth was over my ass and did the same thing. The results were similar, but it also felt different. It was as though those deep sounds had more places to travel. My pussy seemed to be a cul-de-sac of sorts, while my ass was a winding, tight road that just kept going. The music he was playing within me…..for me…..traveled far and deep and I could feel it at different lengths along the way. It was fascinating to me.

I truly no longer cared about any licking or kissing or worshiping. I only wanted to play him like the instrument he was. At this moment, he was not my boy, not my pet, not property. He is always these things, but right then, he was an object I was using and exploring. At one point he tried to beg me to be more gentle, and the response he got was a growl and hair pull. If he was going to give his voice, he would be screaming it and I would be capturing those screams within me…my own, personalized soundtrack of lust and sweet agony.

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Small moments

Sometimes it’s a small moment that takes place between her and I. One recent time was a family event at the hotel. Renting out a couple hotel rooms, ordering pizza and throwing the kids in the pool is a great way to get through a cold spell in Maine, so that’s what we did.

Food, cocktails, snacks and sodas for everyone up in the rooms, then time to change and head down to the pool. She and I went into one of the bathrooms in the suite and she stopped me after I had stripped off my pants and while she was also naked.

“Lay down” I lay on the floor. “Flat, head down” she clarified. I did so.

She stood over me, facing the locked door and let go a slow trickle. She quickly zeroed in on my mouth and it began to fill.

“Swallow” she said. I tried to keep up, swallowing and filling and swallowing as she continued to fill my mouth with her piss.

“That’s so fucking hot” she smiled as she spoke. My view was of her beautiful pussy and ass hovering over me, but her view was of watching in the mirror on the door – the trickle flowing into my mouth, my quick swallows and some of the splattering of piss onto my face. She had a great view and was very pleased. The sound of her piss sounded so loud. Water falling into a pool – trickling into a larger pocket of water – that sound, loud, echoing around the room. Surely anyone outside would be able to tell… but she just smiled.

She was done, it was not all she had, but it was enough to put me in my place. She finished up on the toilet and then squatted over me so I could clean her pussy of any stray drops.

“That was hot. The sounds, the look of your locked up cock. My piss filling your mouth. It makes me horny. But you’re locked up, aren’t you?” I nodded. “Pretty useless, pup. Pretty useless… ” she smiled and touched my chin.

“Get dressed, let’s go.”

We left the bathroom and continued on the rest of our evening with the family. We both agreed a good time was had by all and we giggled on the way home about our little escape into the bathroom, right under their noses, but still behind locked doors.

About that new device

That new device was small. Even she remarked on how small it was. She also teased me with it this morning when I knelt beside the bed waiting for my erection to subside. “…because your cock is in pain, locked up in such a tiny cage?”

To its credit (I’ll credit the cage), I only had to kneel beside the bed once during my slumber. But, I am sure that I was fully erect – just with my dick wearing a metal hat and most of my erection stuffed into my body.

I don’t believe that smaller chastity devices prevent erections on me. I’m willing to give it another shot, but not with this cage and how it stands now. I know how my skin feels when it’s been in contact with metal like this – and I think this cage may simply be too cheap and causing a reaction. So that means I need it powder coated. It needs attention that I cannot give it right now. And so I am released from that cage and am free, but I know I’ll be locked while she’s away late this week. We just have to decide which cage I’m locked in.

So this one, pretty good, though small. Cheap metal, like most of them. Good though. It was interesting and I look forward to trying it again. Once I can find a place to powder coat this.

Another short review

This time we’re looking at this new device, also picked up from China, as a test device. It’s shorter. Much shorter. And I have wanted to try a short device because I have heard good things, but unsure I believe them. So, I’m jumping on the short CB bandwagon and giving it a shot.

First observation is that this is narrow. Very small. I worked on getting my penis into the end of the device with a chopstick to help poke through the cage, but still could not coax it to fill to the end of the device. It’s just too narrow so far. We’ll see what happens when my cock gets harder and has to expand to somewhere – I suspect I may find the head of my cock pressing at the end of the cage.

I’m a little fearful that I could get erection stuck in this one since it is so small. Not worried about the a-ring, but I am worried about the cage.

I’m also not sure the metal is clean enough for my skin – remember, nickel allergy. There could be a reaction starting, but I’ll give it the day before I make the call on that.

More to come!