Storage.

One of the beautiful aspects of being a dominant in an FLR type relationship is that you no longer have to worry about constantly pleasing the other person. I don't mean to make that sound overly selfish but in a situation like the one Miss H and I have, I'm happy when her needs are met and she's happy. In an ever increasing way, my pleasure is starting to stem from giving her pleasure and joy. While Miss H is a wonderful person and does try to satisfy my needs, we both realize that her desires comes first and that's what is really important. I'm not going to lie and say I don't get pouty some times when I'm so horny and get no release, much less physical stimulation, but I'm slowly learning my place, and I'm coming to accept it with out any real problems.

A perfect case in point was this past Sunday night. I was locked in my CB-6000 nonstop for the previous week and as you could probably imagine, desperately horny. My only glimmer of hope was that Miss H said that we would be able to play for a bit on Sunday night. As the day grew closer I got more and more excited. In my silly little head I actually thought I might be able to actually have intercourse with her (which is rather rare nowadays for a number of reasons I'll get into in later blog posts) or at if nothing else, I might be lucky enough to have her stroke my tiny little clitty.

Mistress instead thought the idea of doing anything with me sexually wasn't quite as an attractive option as was laying in bed reading a book and having her favorite TV show on in the background. So while I had envisioned a night of intense passion and sexual pleasure, I ended up spending most of the night bound and immobile next to her in bed.

I was ordered to wear a short dress and stockings, underneath of which I was made to wear a thick, bulky, extra absorbent adult diaper and plastic panties. Then I had bondage mittens attached to my hands, ear plugs put in, and a leather hood tightly pulled around my head.

Finally I was put into the bondage bag, tied up and left alone, unable to move, see, or hear. Miss H said I would be allowed out of the bag once I had humiliated myself by peeing in the diaper. Normally that wouldn't have been hard to do, but Miss H had already purposely made me use the bathroom and pee twice in the past hour so I was totally empty. She said she was probably going to go to bed around midnight so I  better hurry up if I wanted any chance at all for some physical contact with her. Otherwise she was just release me the next morning at whatever time she happened to wake up.

I'm not sure how long I stayed immobile in the bag, all I can remember is the pressure of the hood around my head, the occasional stroke of a finger along the outside of my diaper, and Miss H holding a straw to my lips so I could ravenously try to suck down enough Gatorade to make myself pee. It was kind of pathetic now that I think about it, a grown man tied up and struggling to gulp down as much fluid as possible in order to urninate into a diaper, just for the *possibility* of being able to suck Miss H's toes, or have her spend a few seconds rubbing my small, useless clit before growing tired of me and simply rolling over in bed and going to sleep.