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

woman on beach

 

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.

pussy-this-is-what-i-call-a-perfect-pussy-koika-metart

 

 

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!

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.

Rituals

Laying in bed last night, I asked my boy about what he thought I should blog about this morning. I felt out of content. It’s deep January, our northern world is covered in ice and white walkers, and our daily routines are pretty predictable. No public play, no naked outdoor frolicking, and as it is this time of year, I am in bed most nights by 9pm. This hardly is enough fodder for one good post, let alone a season’s worth.

My boy, being the good one he is, threw out a couple of ideas. He offered, “Blog about my daily rituals” and we proceeded to alternate listing them out loud to one another. The more we talked about it, the more I liked it. Conception bullseye.

Rituals. I simply like the sound of the word.

His day starts with making the bed. Picking up discarded clothing. I do love the sound and image of him removing the panty line from my undergarments. I always think this is quite sexy…gives me a wicked smile every time. Sometimes I’ll catch him holding my panties to his nose. I can’t suppress the grin.

Then, there is the offering to either make or share breakfast, which is a hit or miss thing, but the offer must be there.

He warms up my car this time of year, scraping it if need be.

He is to fill the bird feeder outside our window. I do love those little, fragile, chirruping things!

During the day, he is to send me porn. I do not do this in return, but I do love getting his. Those images inspire me and feed me. So, yeah, it is an important part of my day. I also like this because I can tell how ‘hungry’ he is by what he sends me, both in content and volume. It’s a great way to take his pulse. :-)

He doesn’t cook dinner much, mostly because we have a housemate who loves to do it, and I will take a swing at it a couple of times a week. But he’ll do the dishes every night. And as we know from a recent post, he is not allowed to eat or drink until I have been offered ‘first bite/last sip’.

Other routines: He is to turn on the bed when he gets home from work. It’s heated this time of year. He is still learning to remember this one. He might need a painful reminder….it’s that ‘seasonal adjustment disorder’ thingy.

He offers to make me a cocktail each night. We need a break from this, it’s a good time of year to dry out a bit, damnit. So far, we are failing pretty miserably.

Without exception, he is to empty the dish drain every night and prep the coffee before bed. I dislike waiting up to a cluttered, messy kitchen, and since I am always the first one up, this is law.

Massage_black_and_white_with_handsWhen bedtime arrives, it goes one of two ways; he either comes to bed with me for the night, or he will tuck me in and then get back up and stay up later than me. But either way, he will prep the bed (which involves taking away a mountain of pillows, because actually sleeping with 6 is enough) and he will tuck me in. He then performs his nightly ritual of worship and cleaning. Yes, both of those things. His face, mouth and tongue buried deep into my dark places. I am going to write more about this specific ritual in the very near future.  It deserves a post all on its own.

When that worshiping is completed, and he emerges with a smile and a pink nose (such a cute dog!!!), he will lay next to me and pet me to sleep. I don’t know if it can be comprehended on how lovely this is for me. We have written before about the mind and body connections that are unique to us and our relationship. For example, john’s body has trained itself to respond to mornings, even if he is fast asleep, because his knows that this is the time of day I am most apt to torture it. His body will hear me rustling quietly in the bedroom, and it will respond, sensing that likely, I am taking aim at it. I have this mind/body connection going on too, but in different ways and places.

My body is convinced that john’s hands are magic. And they are. He knows exactly how and where I like to be petted. Petting is an absolute must and is up there with breathing, eating, drinking. He is to pet me on my naked back, open hand, concentrating on either upper or lower parts. I will lay on my stomach next to him . My right arm either dangles off the side of the bed, or is up around my head, and my left arm is tucked against my side, sandwiched tightly between our bodies. My palm faces up, and he knows that he is to place is ball sac in my open hand. It’s the perfect fit for us. I hold and cup him there, mostly being gentle. Sometimes he’ll get sleepy as he pets me and I will need to give him a torturous squeeze or three, which seems to work quiet well in reinvigorating his interest and enthusiasm. and he’ll start to pet me, again. Usually, within moments, I feel my mind go soft, I feel my body sink and then it’s lights out. I always try to pinpoint the exact moment I fade to black, but never can. But wow….it is the most lovely of descents.

Age has changed my sleeping patterns. I will often wake once in the night, usually between 2am-4am. I am one of those types where I wake easily and quickly. If I wake, it’s a struggle to get back to sleep for me. But here too he will work his magic, gathering me in his sleepy arms, pressing me against him and we snap together like lego’s. He never gets impatient or cranky with me for my bouts of restlessness. He knows I don’t like the biological changes and he soothes me. I appreciate this about him more than any words could ever describe. His magic works nearly every time. I am soothed, my body knows his touch, it’s therapeutic to me. Did I mention it’s magical?

All of john’s rituals are important. Most speak to my comfort and ease. They speak to him too, but I will ask him to write about this on his own. We take and gather different things from these rituals. Magic is often found in the most unexpected of places. Rituals is a good place to start looking.

 

 

singing

“Come on home, girl” he said with a smile “I cast my spell of love on you a woman from a child”. But try to understand, try to understand, oh try try try to understand…..he’s a magic man”…he got the magic hands.

 

 

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. :-)