Locktober Thirty First

Here we are at the end of Locktober. Madame reminded me this morning and suggested I write about it. Her suggestion fell on my stressed ears, as I was up at 5 am and worrying about work, which is particularly busy given the recent storm that’s decimated our state.

32 days locked in chastity - taken in the locker room.

32 days locked in chastity – taken in the locker room.

I am unsure what she has in mind for release, but she wants to know what’s in my head. I think she will unlock me and fuck me until I cum. Then she will expect a good long hard fucking after that. We both know that my stamina after being locked will be almost nil. But there’s also part of me that thinks she will not let me cum, but just use me for her own pleasure. It will be difficult for her to find her way to an orgasm with me inside her due to the chastity invoked hair trigger. We also have a pending visit from TSPD who may be expecting some joyful fun sexy times, but I don’t know what limits Madame will place on me for the visit.

I will, certainly, be happy to be unlocked. I expect some healing time for the cock, as I know the head is chafed. I think that little spot on the underside of her cock may be chafed a little as well.

I am very pleased with my ability to stay locked as long as I have. It’s been a while since I was locked for a full month. Usually Madame won’t make the sacrifice of being without her cock for that long. And she really HAS made a sacrifice. I can’t even find the beautiful copper cock that has often stood in for my cock in previous times. It hasn’t reappeared since her venture to summer camp.

Overall, I look forward to her touching my cock again, to feeling it pressed against her ass as we spoon each other in bed. Whether I cum or not – well, that’s up to her and I’d like to feel it, but I wonder how much her desire to tease me and make me whimper might color her opinion. She says she’s already made her decision. I think I know what that is and I think I know what will happen in the coming weekend and visit from TSPD. But then, I’d be foolish to count on what _I_ think a woman would decide regarding such things. I do look forward to the release. Absolutely. Whether I get unlocked AND get to cum will be up to her. I want her to enjoy whatever she decides to do.

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.

I love how hungry you are

VenusButterflyThis was the text I received from her this morning after I had shared a 4 image series of pics, one of which is included here. And indeed, I am hungry. She’s denied me for over 100 days. And last night, while our reunion was sleepy and tired and we both desired deep slumber, she also was aroused by my naked body next to hers, my gentle petting of her pussy, my nuzzling her arm, petting her body… I could tell she had already touched herself, as I could smell her while she pet my face.

We caught up from our weekends apart, I pet and nuzzled her, she grew sleepy. She got up to go to the bathroom before we both settled in for sleep. I placed her body pillow in the right position, set the covers to accept her into the bed, moved her squishy pillow to the right spot. She returned, got into bed and her hand grabbed at the back of my head, quickly pulling my head of its pillow and toward her pussy. I cleaned her diligently, thankful to be between her legs and servicing her, as well as pleasuring her. My tongue lapped all around her pussy and then settled a few broad tongued strokes across the top of her clitoral hood, shaking the jewelry that has lived there for years. Now her hand pulled at my hair again, pulling me up, moving my body in between her legs, my hard cock ready to be inside.

“May I, Ma’am?” I asked as I wet the head with my hand.

She breathed out the word “Yes” and I was in her before the “s” faded. “Good boy!” she breathed out. I thrust twice and pulled back, already close to the edge. Gradually I was able to fuck her, one thrust at a time, her fingers danced on her clit while I did so.

“How does it feel to fuck without cumming for 102 days?”

“It’s intense, I can barely keep myself calm enough.”

“How long have I denied you?”

“102 days Ma’am.”

“Say it, say it all… ”

“You’ve denied me for over 100 days Ma’am. I haven’t cum in over 100 days.”

“No, you haven’t. Maybe you’ll never cum again… ” I pulled out. “Put it back in!”

“I can’t! I’m too close Ma’am, it’s been over 100 days.”

“Over 100 days of denial pup?” she was enjoying this as much as I was.

“Yes Ma’am” I whimpered, almost whining.

“100 days of no cumming. Oh those balls are so full, I can feel how heavy they are. Fuck me, pup!” I slid in, then out again. “FUCK ME, PUP!” I slid in and out again.

Her orgasm hit her quickly. Surprised, she had just pushed herself over the edge. She was falling down the other side of the mountain head over heels. I breathed deeply and entered her again, she squeezed my cock, I held steady. She cried out, I held steady. I slid in just a bit deeper, she squeezed me hard and thrashed. When she could breathe again, she uttered “Good. Boy!” I had to pull out. She uttered dismay at my leaving her. I apologized.

“Do you need cleaning, Ma’am?”

“Yes, pup, clean me.” I did, sliding from my cock between her legs to my mouth, where I cleaned her. Soon we were spooned again together, under the covers.

Now I felt it. I felt it within me. She heard me moan and I moved slowly against her, I knew what was in me, coupling with her after being away for two nights made this body to body intimacy grow this in me. I asked. “May I orgasm, Ma’am?”

“Yes, pup.” I let down the internal barrier holding back my orgasm. I let the energy cycle around in its circular path. The energy flowed and built. I was close, I could feel it. My cock swelled and rubbed against her. I clutched her tightly, spooning her, my hand on her breast. I was close. I asked her “please…  how many days… will I ever cum again?” She knew where I was going, she helped push me to the edge.

“102 days pup. One Hundred and Two.” I pulled her tightly into me. I tensed. “I don’t know that you ever need to cum again, pup. I don’t know why I need that. That mess. I get all I want from that cock and I don’t think I need any more than that pup. No, I don’t think you’ll ever need to cum again, pup.” And from that edge she pushed me to, those last sentences pushed me over the edge. While she had rolled down a mountain when she went over the edge minutes before, I fell off a cliff, suspended in mid-air, my entire body grabbed at her, my arms, legs, hips, cock, hands, everything. I grabbed tightly at her. Falling yet suspended and then WHAM, I hit the ground, my body shaking violently as I hit, the orgasm washing through me, over me, it made me shake so intensely.

I remembered to breathe, as best I could. I loosened my grip. I thanked her. One decent aftershock and we were in bed together, spooned, ready for bed, we slumbered, we slept. I’m not sure when I moved again, but it felt like I was wrapped in her for 8 hours.

Just lying there

Saturday was a beautiful morning. At least my body decided that, instead of sleeping in, I would see how beautiful a morning it was. 6 am came quickly, woke me firmly and decided I would not be heading back to sleep. So, I made coffee, cleared the dry dishes from the sink and sat down to watch the sunrise.

She woke after me for a change and came to find me in the comfy chair in the dining room where I like to sit and type. Grabbing me by the tie of my bathrobe, she pulled me into the bedroom and directly into bed. Somehow the robe fell off my body on the way into bed. Now naked, we lay together, snuggled up close. We touched and caressed and she moved her way to lying on her stomach in our standard “pet me” position. Her left arm is free from under her body and she typically will hold my balls while I pet her.

I started petting her, rubbing according to her direction. The sun shone on the bed as we snuggled tightly under the covers. The warmth of the sun inspired us to relax and almost go back to sleep but her directing me to work out knots in her back prevented slumber. Still, I rubbed her, spending time on her back and her bottom. I even went down to her thighs periodically to give them a bit of a rub. The comforter lay on us and cloaked us from Saturday morning but gaps in that coverage let me smell any of the smells that were under the covers. Every time I rubbed her bottom and her cheeks separated, I’d release another waft of her scent which would work its way out from under the covers. Her hand clutched my balls possessively but my cock was free and was rubbing at the junction of her arm and side, providing a delicious little amount of friction. This closeness, this intimacy, her scent, the gentle friction and my service all came together in a beautiful way. I could feel the energy churning around inside me, I felt my breathing get deeper. I asked “May I orgasm, please?”

“Yes pup, do it.” I continued to rub her, catch her scent and rub my cock gently against her, within 30 seconds I was holding onto her hard as orgasm shook my body. My body tensed, I held her, I had a big beautiful orgasm that had several waves and could have gone on for much longer but I reined it in, calmed myself and let me body relax next to her.

“And what brought that on?” she said with a smile on her face.

I explained about all the things that pushed me up and over the edge, making note of the scent, which was likely the biggest factor in pushing me over the edge. “Well good morning to you then!”

I smiled back and she moved from her prone position opening up her breasts to me which I promptly attacked. Another more active round later I found myself at the point of another orgasm, this time while inside her.

I very much enjoy that I’ve learned to have these orgasms without ejaculation. It’s distilled the essence of a full orgasm into one that gives me almost all of the pleasure without spilling the seed in ejaculating and losing that tension. She continues to deny my ejaculating but allows me this type of pleasure. I can’t get there any time I want, but then I’m not sure I want to be able to do that, as it might take some of the mystery out of it. In the end, it’s a good way to be able to share intimacy with the woman that denies my ejaculation but revels in my orgasm.


It’s the first day of the year. She went out last night and partied hard while I stayed out on the roads and tried to help people get from point A to point B while taking a little of their money in the process (uber). In the midst of one of the busier times of the night, she pinged me, I signed off, drove her home, then returned to the task at hand. I ended up being able to put her to bed and then joined her later. I woke before her, pet her, consoled her, fed her, put her back to bed, woke her again, helped her get herself into the shower and then, while working on our mudroom space (which needs to find room for a motorcycle to store over winter!?) I received a text from her.


I went to the bedroom to find her, freshly showered, in her new fluffy terrycloth robe, where I climbed up on the bed and provided a cock for her mouth. She worked on that until it became too much for her mouth to handle (it’s a hard thing to gag a hungover woman with your cock – okay sadist types, I hear you!) and then moved off the bed, at the foot of it, where I raised her robe, made us both wet and, in the word of a lovely friend of mine, “plunged” right into her as she continued to lay on her side.

I fucked her hard, pounding her well. She was dry from the hangover, I spit onto my cock and plunged deep again. She moaned loudly. She tried to reach out and touch my chest, I told her to touch herself.

“I want to watch you cum.” I pulled her leg up to open her up. She rolled over onto her back, I held her legs up and pounded her hard while her hand wrestled with her clit.

“Look at your swollen pussy, swallowing that cock. Beautiful pussy… ” she rubbed herself faster.

“gonnacumsoon” she gasped in one quick exhale.

I raised her legs higher, pounded her harder and told her to cum.

“Make that pussy squeeze me… look how beautifully swollen you are…. swallow that cock… ”

That was it. That was all she needed. Pushed to the edge, she started her tumble down. A few bounces on the way down the hill and then she soared over the edge of the cliff, flying, soaring, a big beautiful cum and sliding deep into the abyss of orgasm.

“dontstop” she gasped. I pounded.

It was beautiful, lovely, hot, she gushed. I told her “I think you squirted, it’s so wet!” I knew it wasn’t me. And yet, I knew she didn’t squirt either, because it was inside. She simply gushed inside.

“You’re so wet!”

“I am…. ” she breathed.

I pumped slowly. She was so very wet and it was so beautifully slick. Her pussy grabbed at the head of my cock just slightly differently and I was aroused in a different way. I pumped slowly.

“May I?” I looked at her, my head shaking side to side so very slightly.

She looked back. “Please??? ” I implored.

She smiled. “Please, Ma’am?” I begged.

“No.” she replied. “No.”

“Oh, please Mistress, please!”


I continued to pump slowly. She allowed my movement. I wrestled with the possibility of making my way into an orgasm (without ejaculating) but I knew I couldn’t get there.

I whimpered a last plaintive “please”.


Clean me.”

I pumped.

“Clean. Me.”



I withdrew. I knelt. I licked. I sucked. I cleaned her. It was all her and I knew from the taste that I was not me. The wetness was all hers.


I stopped. She pulled her legs back onto the bed, then sat on the edge of bed and I helped her up.

“That was a good one.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed Ma’am.”

“I certainly did. Good boy.”

And now my very hungover and beautiful Mistress found her footing, made her way onto the next part of her day and left me denied. And as I’ve written before, her denial of me is often my reward. I am thrilled with her one word. Happy New Year.

Tales from camp: Dude in distress II

I won’t retell all the detail from us getting to the Dudes in Distress orgy, but this was the third scene that happened in that lovely evening. In the second scene, I had just been an extra hand, helping jerk someone else off all while getting my cock sucked by someone else. As I was lying there on the gym mats, Madame came up to me and whispered “You’re going to get fucked tonight. And I’m going to watch you get fucked tonight.” Naturally, this roused my prurient interest and my cock swelled. We finished the scene that was going on and while it wrapped up Madame gave me instructions on where I should be and how I should position myself.

I was peeled off of the previous pile of bodies to a position more on my own and Madame, while waiting for her accomplice, started fingering my ass and whispering in my ear “She’s got a very big cock on her and she’s coming here to fuck you, just so we can see you get fucked. All the women in here will be smiling while they watch you take that big cock. And the men will be jealous of you getting fucked like that too.” My cock leaked. Her fingers probed, more lube was applied, my ass opened. Madame took a break from opening me and I lay on the mat by myself. It was a warm enough evening, I was still dressed in the chaps and the bow tie, but I’m not sure if the vest was still on me at this point. The chaps, I was told, had made my ass a beautiful target not just of paddles and hands, but strap-on cocks and real cocks from around the tent.

Pinned down like this, but different. No comfy mattress, just a wrestling mat.

Pinned down like this, but different. No comfy mattress, just a wrestling mat.

Soon I heard a new voice and felt another set of hands on me. A woman was positioning me, and then gloved fingers massaged my ass. First one finger, then two, then a declaration of “I think he’s ready.” I could touch my Mistress’ leg while this other woman got behind me and lubed her cock, then started pressing it into me. I will admit there was some measure of mismatch… some confusion… some “not fucking” wherein I started to feel a little frustrated, but my partner in this story of sodom was imminently patient and after several adjustments, her cock slipped into me and she started fucking. Her patience was appreciated and her cock was now being appreciated as well. Lying down on my belly, I could not see her, but I could feel her, grabbing at the leather on my hips, pulling me into her and pressing my body against the mat. There was nowhere for me to go. It was difficult to get away from the fucking, if that’s what I thought I wanted to do. When you’re pinned down between a lovely woman, her cock and the mat, there’s really no place to go.

She fucked and I moved against her, turning it into a “we fucked” moment. It felt good, which is something that hasn’t happened a lot in the few strap-on fucking moments I’ve had. They’re usually more awkward and often more frustrating, but this… oh this… Soon I was lying there, my left hand wrapped around my Mistress’ foot and was having a nice wonderful orgasm, my arching back and my arms pressing compelling me to rise from the mat, all while she was still fucking me. And then I collapsed to the mat again. My Mistress leg moved away from me. And yet LJ’s leg was near to my right arm, so I clutched that. And I held her foot through the next orgasm, again arching, pressing, stretching myself all while my strap-on cock equipped partner fucked me constantly.

Soon enough the second leg disappeared from my realm. The tent, although it was lit beautifully, disappeared for me. I don’t remember closing my eyes, but I knew that I saw nothing. I now felt the ground for something to hold, to keep me grounded. The cock slid out, she re-positioned and put it back in and fucked me again. It felt to me like she was getting into it, but I don’t know if she was getting off on it, still she fucked. My hands still searched for something to grab. No tent poles. No furniture. No people. Nothing, but… finally, the edge of the mat. I found it. It was a hard edge and I could pull it up just enough to grab, so I did. I melted into that mat, became a part of it and I felt almost as inanimate an object as the mat. There was a beautifully animate person driving a lovely thick inanimate cock into this person who had become a part of the mat. Alone on the mat, I had become the mat and I relished her pounding of my ass. I had two more orgasms while she fucked me, then I had to stop. Through the entire night, I think I had seven orgasms and my body was tired. And this fucking had been beautiful and lovely. I lay on the mat, wasted and tired and, oddly enough without achieving ejaculation, sated. Yes, I was satisfied with all of it. I had plenty of pleasure and just needed a few moments to lie there and relax. And so I did.

A few minutes later, as I consciously willed myself into getting up, because I don’t want to just lay there all night in afterglow, we peeled off the random pieces of “chuck” from my sweaty skin, I greeted my new found friend, learned her name, failed to ask her if I could use her name in this blog entry, sipped water, laughed, thanked her for her patience and, in general, had a very lovely time.

Thus far, this has been the most satisfying strap-on fucking I’ve ever had. It certainly was a lovely time and the presentation of it was also so lovely, wherein I didn’t see the strap-on wielding partner until after, I was successfully penetrated from behind and I had four frikkin orgasms! How cool is that?

I do have to say that I am very happy for this session to have happened and thankful to my lovely Chloe for making it happen. I do love how she gets things worked out for me and has made many a think work out for me in the past. Thanks, Ma’am. You’re so lovely for finding beautiful people to fuck me. ;)

Since then, I’ve spoken with Chloe about more strap-on play. How I know that it’s often presented in very D/s ways, but I also want us to be able to have a strap-on session wherein it’s loving and beautiful and, much like some of the time when I’m having sex with her, just us fucking. I’d love for her to be experienced enough with my ass to be able to just say “I’m fucking you tonight… ” and not have it be a big deal and not that it has to be something that’s necessarily D/s, but just another way to make love together. If we could find a way for her to be able to have an orgasm from fucking my ass while still denying my pleasure, that would be beautiful. I look forward to that day happening sometime soon. In the meantime, I’ll look back at this camp and this lovely Dudes In Distress orgy with great fondness. I really do love camp.

“I’ll have what he’s having…”

So, I’ve been playing around with the ideas of orgasm without ejaculation for some time now. I haven’t practiced a lot, but I have practiced. And sometimes I can channel the energy just right and find myself an orgasm, even though Chloe is telling me “no cumming!”.

We’ve been so close and so touchy over the past week that my arousal has been so high and I can’t get enough of her. So this morning, after a morning errand, we had breakfast out. I told her “I could probably have an orgasm right here at the table.”

“That would be interesting.”

“I’ll have what he’s having?” I joked, quoting Harry met Sally. But I felt it. I felt the stirring.

We finished breakfast with no further sexual drama, but not without sexual talk and conversations about our coming adventure to kink camp.

We left, headed back to the cars and we made out a little bit in the parking lot, standing next to her car. She turned us and pushed my back up against the car. I grabbed her shoulder and her hip. She kissed me. I tucked my chin down, breaking the kiss and I felt it. I grabbed it with my mind and I took and ran. It was an orgasm. It was in me, and I worked it out. I grabbed her hard and tucked my face into her shoulder. I cried out into her shoulder as I orgasmed, my legs tightening, my back, my arms, all tense, all pulling, all pulsing. My cock twitched in its metal prison. I tried to not go too crazy, keeping myself at least partly on the Earth… and yet, I had an orgasm. In the parking lot. Making out. All that pleasure and without all the mess of cumming in my pants! So that’s even better!

Damn I love her. I love us. We are very good. I’ve never known I could have such powerful physical and mental pleasures and it just keeps getting better.

What about that?

“So, what are your feeling on that? Do you want to? What about that?”

That’s what she asked this week while we were packing for camp. Our foray into the shared lives of 1000 kinky people and I haven’t come for over 100 days and this is what she asks me.

And I am not entirely sure I can do justice to my reply. It was a weak reply, I think, because I haven’t really have so much I could say, but time wasn’t on our side when she asked. And so, I decided I’d write about it. What is it? This question:

“Do you want to cum?”

Yes, Ma’am, I do. I don’t want to be in that fantasy world of “You’ll never come again! Mwahahahahahaahaha!” fantasy femdom. Nope. No thanks.

“Do you want to cum at camp?”

Well, okay, that’s different. Want? Erm, maybe.


So, here’s the thing. You’ve kept me from cumming for over three months. We’re certainly beyond casual denial. And here’s the biggest thing about that. I really do think that you really do enjoy denying me. When I practically shout out “STOP!” as you’re teasing me, you smile. You smirk. And then 20 seconds later you’re stroking your cock again and making me scream “STOP!” again. And you know that I don’t fake it. When I scream stop I mean it and you do. And that’s fortunate. Because…

I am perfectly fine with you owning my cumming. I leak, because, well, biology and we’re not going to stop having sex altogether. That’s not going to happen. And yet, you like teasing and tormenting me and I’m happy you like that. It fits us both well. I like the occasional tantric style orgasms I get. Thanks for those. They’re really amazing. Thanks for letting me. I don’t think you want to deny me pleasure – you just want to take away this whole “cumming” part of it.

I’m at the point in my mind where I can say “three months? Okay, well, you own it, it’s yours…” and really, it is. I’ve accepted that it’s yours and I want it to be yours. Please keep hold of it. Use it when you want to. Or don’t. It’s yours. But I just can’t be ignored – so there’s THAT on you. Denial by ignoring me won’t fly.

And then, also, there’s the idea of my weighing less than 200# by camp. I called it “starts with 1” and it was a goal, but I can’t imagine I’ll get there. After all, we leave Saturday and the Wednesday weigh in was still a few pounds shy of the goal. I ‘m not sure that I can make another 3.5 pounds before camp starts. Anyone that reads this might even suggest that were I to make that, it would be an unhealthy weight loss. I’d agree there’s a hazard there.

If we played the weight goal story line, you’d have a great reason to deny me at camp. “Oh, he’s a good boy, but he failed his goal, so we’re just going to tease him all week. He’ll go home with a tan, a locked cock and still his balls full of cum… but he missed the goal… ” I can play that one.

And then there’s the idea of the “Well, almost…” and I’m not sure Chloe knows of this part of chastity and denial fantasy land of mine. But the idea of a ruined orgasm isn’t something I’m sure she’s aware of. And I could easily see her finding out in detail, talking to people at camp and getting me well worked up and giving me an epic ruined orgasm. “Well, I hear that’s a ruined orgasm, did I do it right? ” she might smile. And I know she would. And I’d still be frustrated as all hell.

And then there’s the idea of actually joining with her, perhaps with the toy in our family doing something with us. But I’d be in her, we’d be fucking, and she’d let me cum. Finally, after over 100 days, she would finally say “yes” and I’d cum. And it’d be a long loud cum with lots of mess. And she’d make me (or me and her toy?) clean up after myself. But I want myself to spill without having to clean it up after – in whatever way she might make it happen.


The bottom line on all of this is that yes, she owns my orgasms and ejaculations and I’m 100% okay with how she wants them to work out. And I would not think I would have a bad camp if I didn’t cum. Cumming is so very beyond where I’ve gone and where I am. It’s a beautiful and very fun part of our sex life, but it’s certainly not the end all be all of male sexuality. No, I’m very far past that belief by now.

I see both Chloe and I growing in our roles in this lifestyle. She coming more comfortable with her dominant self and I in my submissive self. And we’ve worked out good roles between us. And it seems to be working. I know that being the dominant in a relationship is not without it’s efforts. I don’t like to pressure her for certain things. And I know she respects my opinion, but I think we’ve both gotten into a level of our FLR that my opinion on ejaculating no longer matters. If I’m to be owned, this is one part of my life, like so many, where she should feel free to own it, dictate it, and decide whether it happens or not.

Madame, I thank you for asking me what I think about this. But you’ve kept me denied for this long and it is absolutely your call on whether or not I ejaculate. What I want out of our camp experience is fun and joy and beautiful naked time and fucking. And some play with our toybags too. But I want pleasure for all of us involved. And however you take that pleasure, well, I’ll be there to help in any way I can.

Close to the edge

Last night was an absolutely lovely night. I worked hard at the office, worked hard at home, but I also enjoyed half a beer, which was nice. Still on my way toward losing the weight, but taking some pleasure along the way. And after all, beer is bread and bread is essential. Well, sort of.


We had a good evening and I ran some errands, but we ended up in bed and I did my cleaning of her, as usual, but then I lingered around her bottom longer. Again, she lay on her belly and left side, her right leg bent a little and my head rested on the inside of her left thigh as I kissed her ass and rubbed her back. I did this for at least 20 minutes, if not a half hour, all the while my cock strained, full and hard. She sent a signal for her to join me and found her balls in her left hand, she squeezed them very hard, almost making me orgasm with the first squeeze. “I was thinking about fucking that cock, but you’re probably useless to me, aren’t you?”

“Probably so, Ma’am.”

But in the end, it didn’t stop her. She rolled to her back and we assumed “the most comfortable fucking position in the world” and I entered her. Several times as she would raise her hips I would pull my cock out, or I would simply say “stop stop stop!!” as she started grinding. Eventually, there were enough close calls, enough times where the edge was reached, that I was able to safely be inside her for a moment or three. I also did some math problems in my head. Yes, it’s true, I wasn’t thinking entirely of my Mistress while she fucked me. She continued, I did my best. “1,576, 1,583, 1,590… ” and yet eventually she brought herself up to an orgasm, so beautifully and she tilted her pelvis just slightly, rubbed against the head of my cock, she uttered “Good boy!” and this sent me right up to the very edge of the cliff and I pulled out uttering a reply of “NO!” as I was so very very close to cumming. To spilling it all. To changing the odometer from 98 to 0. Because yesterday was day 98. Tomorrow is day 100. And last night was an orgasm for my Mistress that she said I “robbed something from her… ” for which I feel so very bad.

The denial thing is lovely. It’s fun. We have a great deal of fun with it. But I do confess that the way it puts me on edge and makes me not be able to fuck her in the way that she deserves is one of the hardest parts of it. She deserves to get a good cock to be able to fuck her hard and long, but when I’ve been denied, and when she whispers anything to me, it sends me so close to the edge and risks pushing me over.

I know last night that the bucket spilled over into her. It’s not unusual. It’s not terrible. It helps to take some of the edge off of the sexual peak and allows me to be in some way useful to her as a cock-wielding man. But damn does it take a while to get to a safe place. And sometimes it still leaves me very near the edge.

Tomorrow will be 100 days since we all had leap day. I bet you didn’t know that. But I know it. Very much so. And I feel bad that Madame had part of her orgasm taken away from her, absolutely. But I wasn’t going to let the accident happen and turn that odometer back to zero. That would have been far worse, especially as we start packing for camp, where I’m hoping she might let me spill, somewhere in the realm of over 112 days or more. Or perhaps she won’t. I still don’t know. I still think it may have to do with whether I make my weight loss goal. But we’ll find out before the end of the month. Day 99. Whew. Remind me to post about the whole counting and big numbers thing. I’ve wanted to post about that too.


Today is day 88 of my boy not being permitted to have a cum.

By the time we leave for our kinky vacation in mid June, and by the time we get there, it will be 112 days of no relief, no release, no significant spills.

I love the dance that comes with this kind of denial. It gets to a point where his desperation makes him slavish. He gets so hungry for something that he can’t have, something he is so close to, but is not allowed to touch. I think of this, and I can picture his lovely face, his beautiful head among the pillows…..thrashing, yearning, craning, reaching. It’s a beautiful, aching torture that I never tire of watching.

His eyes can get unfocused as he looks up at me. There is a soulful pleading in those eyes, one that begs for permission to cum, and the at the same time, one that implores that the denial continues.

Chastity key

This is the actual key in the actual cleavage that locks this dog up by this Mistress

And continue it does. I do not know if he will be allowed to have sweet release from this cage during our vacation. We have done this before… gone through prolonged periods of denial, mixed in with healthy doses of being under lock and key. But generally speaking, I have allowed him that glorious moment before, where all of the “No’s” that he has heard over the months suddenly and unexpectedly become a whispered “Yes”, and his body is shuddering and spasming and releasing him from his captivity as his mind blinks and hesitates in almost bewildered disbelief. It is in this exact moment that I cannot contain my smile. It is this moment that I drink in as his body arches off the bed, yearning up towards me, trying to fall into My soul for some kind of safekeeping lest he be swept entirely away. It’s a small moment that has enormous emotion attached to it. Sometimes there is a cry at the end, where the noises are soft, and yet the gripping upon whatever part of my body he can hold on to is fierce. I hold him in those moments, and I soothe, and I smile.

And then…..when the moment has passed, and the petting has ceased and the mess has been cleaned up… I smile at My boy, I look down upon his lovely being, and I reset the clock again. Because it all starts with day 1.