She's almost home.

Just one more day till Miss H returns home from her business trip and I can hardly wait. We've been texting on and off through out the day which is only making it more difficult for me to be patient, going into great detail about what she expects from me and to do *to* me when she arrives back. Between the canings and the strap-on, it sounds like my little sissy ass is going to get a work out to make up for lost time.

It's been much too long since I've felt the pleasure of Miss H's big pink dildo ramming deep inside of me. It's one of the most personal acts she and I engage in and also one of my favorite. I connect with her in such a emotional way when we do it, I feel exposed, used, and absolutely submissive but at the same time also very much loved and protected. It's also taken on a new level as, with some practice, I can now cum by her penetration alone without the need for any direct cock stimulation. It really reinforces the dynamic of the female led relationship along with many other aspects of me being her sissy bitch.

The other thing I've come to miss are those daily rituals that Miss H has set in place for me. I had gotten so use to doing them that suddenly being left by myself has gotten me feeling sort of "off". Little things that I had taken for granted because they had become part of our day to day routine were now sorely lacking as I found myself unable to perform them. Simple things like packing her lunch in the morning, or waiting naked, leashed, and on all fours by the front door for her to get home from work, or just kissing her feet before I went to bed and thanking her for allowing me to serve her, all seemed like pleasures I wasn't able to receive any longer.  I even noticed myself desperately missing the nightly caning Miss H gave me.

I like structure in my life and Miss H excels at that, her daily routines do wonders to keep me in the loving, submissive, obedient state I know she prefers. The chastity might provide her with the raw, willing material, but it's her training in the form of structure and discipline that turns that clay into the form she desires.

Ah, but the strap-on play will have to wait for another night, my daily tasks for another day. Tonight all I can do is merely post a picture of today's continued chastity while I count down the hours to Miss H's arrival. 

I love you Miss H...

All alone.

Miss H left Sunday night for a business trip, a trip that will finally bring an end to the mega project she's been working on for what seems like every minute of the past two months. While I'm happy that it's finally coming to an end, I'm also sad because I hate not having her with me. Even though when she's been here our time has been limited, it was always a wonderful feeling to wake up in the middle of the night and see her finally in bed, sleeping like an angel next to me. The way she would groggily wake up for a second to hold my arm after I put it around her, only to soon fall back asleep, snuggled up against each other.

That's one reason I haven't posted in a few days, I just haven't been "in the mood" to write about kinky stuff. I'm feeling a bit better today, being able to talk to her on the phone and share a bunch of txt messages of both the kinky and vanilla variety has perked me right up and given me the motivation to write today's entry.

Even though I wouldn't think of breaking any of Miss H's standing rules, she wasn't about to take any chances so therefore my CB-6000 chastity cage was to remain on at all times during Mistress's absence. She did allow me to switch from my standard metal padlock to a plastic lock. We do have an emergency key for the cage at home, but seeing as how it's secured with a combination lock and that Miss H will be indisposed an unable to answer her phone for long periods of her absence, she thought it would be safer to have the plastic lock so I could quickly remove it if there was an actual crisis and needed it off.

She didn't specifically order me to send her photo proof but it's always assumed that I will provide photo evidence to her of any tasks, etc that are done outside her eyesight. This time I decided to do that, but also post them here, hopefully making it more interactive for you, the reader, as well. This first picture was taken yesterday.

This next picture was taken this morning.

Obviously it doesn't take a genius to realize that these pics could be faked in order to "prove" that I was wearing the cage the entire time when I actually wasn't. For example it wouldn't be hard to push the key almost all the way together but not actually lock it in and engage the plastic mechanism. Then take a few pics before removing it and being free. You would look at the pics and assume that the cage was locked in when in reality it wasn't. However what's the point of that? Miss H is giving me the gift of her dominance so doing anything but exactly what she commands is disrespectful and just plain lazy. Why risk losing that? Besides, being denied just makes me want her that much more ;)

Panty trouble

What happens when you get a bit lax in taking care of your household laundry chores? You unfortunately end up with no clean panties. I stumbled into that minor yet highly annoying issue this morning when I was getting ready for work. Miss H was dissapointed in my lazy attitude about this but she seemed to be more in the mind set of "you made this problem so you fix it" more then actively punishing me, for she just chided me and went on about her business.

Looking through my panty drawer I found tons of panties, but no regular ones, instead just an assortment of micro thongs, mesh hip huggers, and other more sexy type panties then the everyday type I usually wear. Miss H has long since thrown out my male underwear so my choices for the day were limited. I love wearing the sexy panties but with the CB-6000 on I'm always worried that they'll be stretched out or damaged by the cage.

The type I normally wear.

The normal panties which I was out of are much more comfortable for extended wear and worked well with the CB-6000, helping to reduce any clanking noises made by the lock and dog tag against the hard plastic length of the cock cage. As I stood there with two giant handfuls of womens panties, Miss H happened to look over. "Those are perfect", she said, pointing at my frilly pink sissy rhumba panties. "Ugh", I sighed quietly under my breath. They are big, bulky, and super frilly, so much so that with the right pair of pants you can see their outline and puffiness right through them. There wasn't time to argue so I just pulled them on and got ready.

Subtle, huh?

I'll be doing laundry as soon as I get home today...

Put away when not in use.

Miss H has a very important project for work she's currently in the midst of. It's big enough where she focuses just about every waking minute on it. While I obviously miss the time with her, I understand and support her 100% in what she's doing. I try my best to make this time easier for her by attending to chores around the house, making sure she doesn't need anything, etc because I know she's under a lot of stress. Sometimes though the best stress relief she has is taking out a little frustration and nervous energy on me by means of a harsh caning or other punishment. Occasionally these are deserved, but in most cases they're just because she feels like it. Even if I didn't like the abuse I wouldn't fight it, because making Mistress happy in turn makes me happy. The joy I see in her eyes is well worth the welts and bruises so leaves on my ass.

Last night I got the following email from her -

"I'm feeling hyper and particularly wicked. Here are tonight's plans: around 11, you will have showered and laid out: everything you wear with the diapers, pink duct tape, bondage mittens, earplugs,  the bondage bag, and the hood. Shortly thereafter, I will bind you, then proceed to ignore you for the rest of the night. When I wake up in the morning, I'll undo you. You must have peed in your diaper to be released, but you won't be released simply because you've peed. In other words, if you go at 3 a.m., you'll lay in it until I wake up in the morning.

Be sure to come ask to be uncaged before you shower. I'll close the blinds in my office when it gets dark.

Otherwise, don't plan on seeing much of me tonight, except for bathroom and water runs.

Let me know that you understand your tasks for the night, by posting something relevant on Twitter.

Love you, Sissy Christie,
Miss H."

I'm not going to lie, I was both really turned on and simultaneously a bit nervous at the same time. I love the hood and bondage bag but this was going to be a long time, longer then I've ever been immobilized like that before. I think the previous record was around seven hours or so. This would be at least 10 hours because Miss H was going in to work late (Dr's appointment) so she wouldn't even be waking up till 8:30am or so at the earliest. The complete sensory deprivation of the hood with blindfold, ear plugs, bondage mittens, and bondage bag can start messing with your mind after a while. Often times I start to get a little anxious and have to consciously force myself to relax so I don't start getting panicky after extended time like that. Plus the fear of having an accident and leaking outside of my diaper had me a bit gun shy as well.

Miss H helped me get ready and slide into the bag on top of our bed when I was done. The sudden darkness and utter silence was exhilarating, my only sensations were the sound of my own breathing and the feel of the multiple straps being tied tightly all around me. I could feel the bed move as Miss H then took her place next to me, reading a book, doing work, or maybe just watching TV, I couldn't tell. My only thought being that I was going to remain like this for the next ten hours. It was going to be a long night.

Btw, like my belly button piercing? ;)

Every so often Mistress would take her hand and caress the top of my diaper through the bondage bag. I wasn't sure if she was doing this to reassure me she was watching over me and everything was ok or if she was just doing it to fuck with me, to show how helpless I really was. Whatever the reason, it never failed to turn me on, her little cock getting rock hard and pouring out pre-cum beneath the thick diaper. Although I couldn't hear her with the earplugs and hood on, I'm sure she was laughing as she watched me immediately buck my hips and dry hump the diaper after each pat on the diaper, desperately trying to relieve the aching desire to cum I was feeling.

I must have fallen asleep soon after because the next thing I remember is being awoken by Miss H as I felt her undoing the laces on my hood. I knew it couldn't have been the morning yet so I resisted slightly, I didn't want her to think I couldn't handle wearing it longer. Ultimately though it was pointless as she soon removed it and took out the ear plugs. "Do you know what time it is?", she asked with a smile. "About midnight", I offered as my eyes slowly became accustomed to the bright lights in our bedroom. She laughed,"it's almost 4am. I was up with work stuff." She then went on to say that she had removed the hood because it's one thing for me to be bound like this if she was close by, quite another to do it when she was asleep. If the hood moved or something happened, I could suffocate and she might not even know it as she slept.

I was a bit dissapointed about not wearing it all night and I could tell she was too, but she was right, asphyxiating in my sleep isn't exactly sexy or fun. I straightened up in the bag, assuming that she would then take the bondage bag and the rest of the stuff off as well. "No one said anything about letting you out, did they?", she remarked. "You're allowed to squirm over here and cuddle up next to me if you'd like. However you are *not* permitted to dry hump against me. If you can't control yourself with that then roll away from me to your other side and hump your diaper there. When you're finished you can return next to me." She didn't have to warn me not to cum, by now I'm all to familiar with the punishments that would result from such an infraction so the thought of doing that didn't even enter my mind. Without another word she turned off the over head light and I quickly pushed myself over to her to spoon her from behind.

Like a bitch in heat, several times I woke up up again in the middle of the night and had to roll over, just so I could feel the very faint but addicting feel of Miss H's little cock thrusting against the soft insides of the diaper, only to then return to Miss H when I had finished for the time being. Each time softly laying a gentle kiss on her neck as a thank you, being careful not to wake her.

The new "normal"?

This morning something very subtle yet at the same time totally amazing happened. I had just gotten out of the shower and was checking my CB-6000 to make sure it was still nice and snug when I remembered some random thing I needed to talk to Miss H about before we left the house. I walked into the bedroom and she was sitting on the side of the bed getting dressed and watching TV. I walked in naked except for the cage on and we talked for a minute or two before I headed back to the bathroom. It wasn't an overly important conversation and we were both in a hurry so neither of us paid much attention to what was going on while we finished getting ready. Then as I walked into the bathroom it kind of hit me. I had walked out in front of the woman I love totally naked, with just a small plastic cage locking me up tight, and Miss H acted like nothing was happening at all. Not because she wasn't interested or didn't care, but because it has become such a normal part of our life that it's totally accepted and even expected. It's just "us".

That was really a sort of mind blowing revelation to me because it shows just how far Miss H have come in our relationship since we first met. What was once two separate entities, our "kinky" side, and our "regular" side have fused and integrated to become our new normal. A perfect blend of each that is both highly sexual and yet practical at the same time. It's not fake, it's not forced, it's just beautiful in every sense of the word.

In the past, especially before I met Miss H, my relationships were definitely divided very firmly along the kinky and non-kinky. While I've always been extremely lucky to be with women that were very kinky in there own right, even they usually have some strict dividing line in place. We could do pretty much anything we wanted to do sexually as long as it wasn't more then twice a month on evenings she would choose and we wouldn't stay up to late so she wouldn't be tired for work the next day. The sad part is I'm not even making this up, or exaggerating. I would never really complain though because even though I was desperately craving kinky sex on a near constant basis, I felt I was being totally ungrateful. Most guys have a hard time finding anyone that is into their kinks, especially the ones I do, so I felt I should just suck it up and be thankful for what I did have, regardless of how unsatisfied I felt.

One of the biggest problems with playing so intensely yet infrequently was that I never really felt comfortable. I'm very self conscious by nature so when I dress I get super nervous because I'm worried that the person I'm with will get turned off, laugh at me (not in the good way), or just simply get disgusted and leave me. By dressing so infrequently and then going so hardcore about it when I did, it really made me uneasy. To the point where I would have to have a couple of drinks to calm down enough to really enjoy myself at all. Which, by the way, is a really crappy way to have to experience something you really love doing. I don't mean to sound at all angry toward past girlfriends because the issue was more my own problem then theirs, they were actually very understanding and each helped me in their own way.

When I first met Miss H I had no idea she was kinky at all, so when I eventually learned that she was, of course I was excited but also a little nervous because I figured it would fall into the same sexual pattern. At first it did, we were both new to each other and we were taking things slow. Looking back it's kind of funny because we are both crazy kinky yet neither one of us wanted to let on too much right away because we were worried we would freak out the other one with how extreme our sexual desires are. It wasn't long though before things were really humming along. Perhaps the biggest difference with Miss H is that she's very good at planning things and taking the initiative when she wants something. In the past I always felt like people were just getting kinky with me as a way to keep me happy more then because they actively wanted to. It was at best an 80/20 split for me initiating kinky play so it was hard to get really excited about being someone's submissive when you felt like they were just acting the part to be nice.

Miss H though will just as soon order me to dress like a whore as she will to tell me she's not in the mood so leave her alone so I no longer have that doubt that she's doing it for anyone other then herself (ok, so I still worry about that a little but not nearly as much...). There's something very freeing about that and it's done wonders to help make my sex life a whole lot more enjoyable. She has really done wonders to put my fears at rest or at least subdue them enough to enjoy myself.

The full realization of our relationship though really started clicking when Miss H drew up the "Principles" months ago. For it was the first time we began to really intertwine all aspects of our lives together. There was no longer the two separate sides of kink and vanilla life, everything merged into one. No longer would we mark on a calender which day was our "play" day for the month, now bondage, dressing, and FLR were just as much a part of every day life as bills, work, and cuddling together in bed at night. This doesn't mean that our lives have become one giant, non-stop fetish video, that's just impractical no matter how you look at it, it does mean though that we can slide from watching the world news to me suddenly being naked in front of her, furiously sucking her toes while she masturbates and verbally degrades me. It means we can go from her strap-on fucking me in a french maid's dress to discussing tomorrow nights dinner without missing a beat.

Everything is sexual, and yet it isn't. Everything is totally normal, and yet it isn't. Everything is perfect. Just perfect.

Posting preferences

You may have noticed that my last few posts have sort of been "serialized" and broken into multiple parts. I do that not to be a pain in the ass, but because it always seems like my blog posts are just a bit to much to cram into one single posting. Personally, when I'm reading other people's blog postings, I like them when they're neat, tidy, and to the point. I'm not looking to read a huge novel, just enough to keep my attention and provide some good info or an interesting story. Hopefully you feel the same way and don't mind me spreading 'em out.

The other side benefit is that I don't always have time to sit down and write the whole thing out in one shot so by writing each post as I have time, I can keep the updates flowing at a steady pace so with any luck there will always be something new to read or look at around here. Now if you'll excuse me, Miss H just started painting her nails so I have to crawl over and ogle her.

Humiliation cuts both ways pt. 2

If you'll remember, yesterday's blog post ended with me being dressed in one of the most unsexy, humiliating outfits I could imagine, wearing a thick diaper covered with a pair of pantyhose, topped with a nightgown straight out of Golden Girls. So, I wasn't sure if Miss H was in any type of sexual mood at all so as to not upset her I tried to stay rather docile and lay quietly next to her. It wasn't hard because I felt so ashamed I just sort of pushed my head down in the pillow and tried to hide from her occasional glance.

Without saying a word she eventually started softly stroking my head and back, sometimes moving her hand over my ass and down my thigh, teasing me by getting just close enough to her cock so I would think she was going to rub over the top of it (or as close as she could considering it was carefully tucked away under the diaper) before detouring off in another direction. She was now sitting up in bed with her back against the wall as I moved closer to her and put my arms around her waist while still laying down. Miss H pulled her right leg up so her foot was right at crotch level and began ever so delicately twirling her foot, making small circles around the front of the diaper. I would groan in ecstasy because even that little bit of sensation against her cock felt amazing. Being deprived for so long means that even the most simple of physical contact drives me wild. As she would straighten her leg out I instinctively, like an animal in heat, began furiously dry humping it, desperate to feel something.

The sad part is even though the sensations were minimal at best, it still didn't take longer then maybe a minute tops to almost cum. I had to clench down with all my might and pull away from Miss H in order to stave off the orgasm that would have flooded my little sissy diaper. And lets not forget, this wasn't even direct contact between cock and leg, I was secured behind two padded diapers, a pair of plastic panties, and the pantyhose and yet I still was so horny I almost came. By now my face was buried in the side of her ass while my hips kept rhythmically pumping faster and faster until the point I would have to abruptly stop as not to make a mess.

Miss H repeated this over and over again for what seemed like at least an hour or so. When I almost came she would pull her leg away slightly while I caught my breath and calmed down, then her foot would move back and the teasing would start anew, the straightening of her leg being the signal to resume my pathetic dry humping. Like a puppy dog I followed her every physical cue on command, the same pattern repeated over and over. Every so often she would make me say out loud how grateful I was that she was making me dress like this or how I was a pathetic excuse for a man and should be happy I'm even allowed to try and fuck her leg through my sissy diaper or any other number of derogatory things. During this time I heard the familiar "snap" sound coming from my iPhone. I always kept it next to the bed and Miss H likes to borrow it in order to get pictures for our blogs as well as for personal use. I didn't pay much attention to it because she's a photographer in the making, constantly capturing the moment as we get into what ever types of kinky debauchery we can.

Several times she suddenly got very quite and remained almost perfectly still for several minutes. I thought it was odd, but was so distracted by other matters that at the moment things didn't register. Miss H soon ordered me to stop and roll over, I was done for the night and she wanted to go to bed. It was then that I figured something was up, she was just staring at my phone with a smile on her face. "The videos I took of you turned out great", she laughed. All I could do was cringe in horror and slink back between the pillow and her ass, too miserable to look her in the face. "You took video of that", I half hardheartedly mumbled as my mind quickly retraced in vivid detail what I had been doing for the past sixty minutes or so.

She had two long video clips of me dressed like this, furiously trying to fuck her leg from beneath a diaper, and not only enjoying it, but actively begging for more. Now normally I'm a total camera whore, I love having my picture taken and videos done, but this case was different. This time I wasn't begging her to see the footage immediately afterwards nor excited to post it online. That's footage that I hope I never have to lay eyes on again, and that my friends is true humiliation.

Humiliation cuts both ways.

My previous two blog posts dealt in a large way with sexual humiliation and the kind of mind fuck pleasure it brings me. Sexual humiliation is vastly different then you standard embarrassing situation type humiliation you experience in a day to day life, which is obvious, otherwise why would you do it other then for the sexual thrill. Being dressed like a slutty whore and called names is an extremely hot fantasy for a large number of people including me. Slipping and falling during an important business presentation? Not so much.

I bring this up for two reasons, the first is because I was browsing some random profiles on FetLife the other day and was amused by the number of people who had profiles that claimed they were into humiliation and nothing was to extreme, that they would do *anything*. Ok, I want you to wear the top half of a chicken suit while I throw random slices of deli meat at you during your rendition of God Bless America performed on the lawn of your Mom's house. Not quite as hot as a sexy dominant woman walking you around on a leash is it?

The second reason is because I myself often fall into the same trap. I beg Miss H to humiliate me as long as it's something that I personally find sexy or exciting. My latest punishment though made it infinitely clear that humiliation shouldn't be something I always beg for. Now when I say punishment that's a bit of a misnomer actually because the word punishment tends to make me think of a reprisal for doing something wrong, a penalty for misbehaving. That wasn't the case this time, it was Miss H simply in the mood to be a bit sadistic (one of her best qualities, btw).

Before I left for work she told me to head off to the store and buy a pair of the most plain, unsexy, control top pantyhose I could find in either nude or tan. First though I was to paint my fingernails pink so I would have to wear that when I went to go shopping. Luckily, as you can tell from the picture below she was kind enough to allow me to wear a very pale shade of pink so it wasn't really super noticeable unless you really looked. Still though, it was enough to make me pretty anxious.

My trip to WalMart went off without a hitch (hey, she said she wanted plain, ugly pantyhose...) and I made it back to work with plenty of time to spare. So far at least it didn't seem like Miss H was being overly cruel, the nail polish wasn't to bad and even the stockings weren't anything I was really worried about. I've never worn pantyhose before but I loved wearing stockings so even if she made me put them on at work it wouldn't be that big of a deal. The rest of the day went by uneventfully and even when we were both home Miss H barely mentioned my new purchase.

Truthfully I was actually a little bummed. I was dying to dress so I assumed that even if I had to add the pantyhose to whatever outfit she had picked out for me it would still be awesome. She didn't mention anything about it at all though. Then finally around 10pm she called me into her office and said those magic words, "I think it's time for you to get dressed, don't you?". The swelling inside my CB-6000 was almost immediate as I winced slightly from the constricted pain. "Yes Mistress!", I replied excitedly. "Since you seemed to enjoy wearing diapers so much these past few nights to bed I'm going to let you do it again tonight. First though, what do you say?", she said with a wicked smile. I knew that this was my cue to have to ask her to be allowed to wear the diaper. Without me asking out loud she wouldn't let me so I did, "please Mistress, may I wear a diaper to bed?". "Why of course sissy, you may also wear the new pantyhose over them and don't forget to wear my favorite nightgown too", she replied, barely able to control herself from gently laughing. I inadvertently sighed rather loudly when I heard that, to which Miss H only smiled like a Cheshire cat. She knew full well that the nightgown was like my arch enemy.

This particular nightgown is dreadful in every conceivable sense of the word. It's meant for a women in her 50's and would fit in nicely with your wardrobe if you considered a slightly stained eeyore t-shirt with a pair of jean shorts to be a classy look. I despise it because when I have to wear it I don't feel sexy or turned on like I do when I'm wearing lingerie, I just feel stupid and goofy looking. I begrudgingly headed off to the bedroom, not looking forward to my bedtime attire for the night.

Horrible, isn't it? Once she had finished for the night she came to join me in bed. The look on her face cut into me like a knife. She just stared at me, shook her head and chuckled. That brief moment was worse then any name she's ever called me, any insult she's ever hurled my way, because those were just words I knew she was saying to try and humiliate me and at the same time get me off. This time was different, this was just a woman staring at the man she had chosen to be with and genuinely just laughing right at me. Between the thick diaper, the ugly pantyhose, and the nightgown, how could she have any respect for a man that was willingly doing this for her. That thought burned into my brain as she quickly rolled over in bed to read a magazine.

The rest of what happened later that night and the next morning I'll finish up in tomorrow's blog post...

Today's Task pt. 2

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Today's task

Miss H isn't necessarily what you would call a fan of diapers. She's not against it, just rather neutral on the whole idea. I myself fall more into the category of fan but not for the reasons you may think. I have no real interest in infantalism or adult baby play (nothing against it, just not my thing), for me I enjoy the humiliation and control aspects of being made to wear them. I've written about that in length in the past so I wont rehash it all right now. Instead I'll just say that sexual humiliation, in just about any form is one of my biggest turn ons.

Diapers, along with feeling quite good, are like a laser beam right to the part of my brain that processes both sexual enjoyment and feelings of embarrassment, hitting both of them simultaneously. The nervous rush of adrenaline you might get when speaking in front of a large audience comes crashing over me like a wave when I have to wear a diaper, it's just that now it comes mixed with an equally large degree of sexual excitement as well. The same could be said for any number of other humiliating things Miss H likes to make me do, but often times diapers are the quickest, most efficient, and direct route Miss H has to turning me into a almost crying puddle of shame.

Last night she made me ask her to wear a diaper to bed, the asking part was just an additional humiliation for me, we both knew I wanted to wear them, I just hate having to ask for them out loud. So during the process of putting them on, which Miss H always makes sure to watch, the awkwardness and shame of putting them on is horrible. I feel idiotic and embarrassed, there's no "scene" going on, it's just the two of us watching TV until she decides it's time to put on the diaper. That jarring break from "normal" to "kink" is shocking yet exciting. The crushing anxiety I feel in my chest as I feel her eyes watching me putting it on is almost physically painful. I definitely don't feel turned on at this point yet somehow I always have a raging hardon that is leaking precum all over the place.

Soon after the diaper is on and secured underneath some pretty plastic panties we kind of get back into our regular routine and I almost forget about the fact that I'm wearing it. It's those times that Miss H's cruel barbs sting the most. For instance I'll be in the kitchen making a snack when she will walk by and gently pat my now padded crotch and softly laugh, or lean over on the couch while we're watching something on tv and gently whisper into my ear "how's my little cock sucking diaper bitch doing?". That sudden jolt of unexpected humiliation makes me both wet and shaking from embarrassment at the same time.

Miss H revels in my humiliation, her amusement was on full display this morning when before work she made it a point to have me stand before her and pee in the diaper before she left. I was desperately holding it, hoping that I could somehow hold it for just a little while longer, just until she had finally left the house. I honestly didn't think she remembered I was even wearing the diaper, she seemed rushed so I just assumed she would grab her lunch and be out the door thus saving me the shame of wetting my diaper while she was still around. In true Miss H fashion though she wouldn't leave before first reminding me I was wearing that thick padded diaper, then ordering me to stand right in front of her and take care of business. I couldn't even look her in the face, I just hung my head in shame and did what I was ordered. I was actually literally shaking a bit, I was so embarrassed to be doing this in front of her while she watched.

I always want to impress Miss H and put my best foot forward. I want her to be happy to be with me and absolutely hate looking stupid in front of her. I quietly curse myself every time I get a question wrong when we watch Jeopardy because I don't want her to think I'm not intelligent. I panic if I think my abs don't look as tight as they used to because I want her to find me attractive. Yet at the same time the more I humiliate myself in front of her, the bigger the rush of sexual pleasure I seem to get. It's emotionally crushing yet sexually exciting like nothing else.

Damn, I just looked at the clock to see what time it was,  I totally went off on a tangent today and now I'm late. I had seriously intended to write about the task Miss H assigned me, which is related to diapers btw, but got kind of off course and now I have to get back to a few work related things I need to take care of. I'll get part 2 of this post up hopefully tomorrow. Until then...

A little premature?

Before Miss H and I really got into the kinky stuff I always considered myself solidly average in terms of staying power. I wasn't a porn star but wasn't a super quick premature ejaculator either. My oh my how time changes things.

Imagine yourself in the following scenario, each and every day, day in and day out you're forced to wear a cock cage that makes it not only impossible to get an erection, but makes even the attempt painful. The cage prevents any type of masturbation at all so your own penis becomes off limits to you, controlled by the woman who holds your key. Now imagine this woman not only has no problem with you looking at porn, but actively encourages it because she knows the vicious cycle it will start. Your horny because you can't cum so you look at porn, which makes you hornier and then because you can't cum you go back to the porn more and more because the need for release gets worse and worse. Like a terrible itch you can never quite scratch.

Things become even more insidious when your Mistress begins her almost daily tease and denial sessions. She doesn't have intercourse with you anymore and any type of oral sex on you is but a distant memory. She'll begin with verbally toying with you, making you beg to be released from the cage and allowed to cum. When she's grown tired of your wimpering she require you to orally service her feet or pussy. You eagerly do it, desperate for any type of sexual contact with her, secretly hoping that this will be the night she finally relents and lets you experience the orgasm that has been eluding you for months now.

When she has cum its time for the part you both crave and fear at the same time. She'll remove your cock cage, laughing as a puddle of precum pours out, and then take a large squirt of lube and begin slowly stroking your aching cock. She starts slowly, gently  rubbing the length of your shaft while whispering her darkest fantasies in your ear. The feel of her hand is unimaginable but the pleasure is short lived because you can already start feeling the first rumblings of an ejaculation starting to form. As much as you want to just cum all over the place, reveling in the feel of her hand jacking off your cock, you know you cant. Mistress has forbidden you from cumming without her permission and she most certainly won't give it to you tonight, not when you still have over a month left until your assigned release date.

For a second you think about having an "accident" and cumming, just so you can once again feel a bit of relief from the constant sexual pressure. That idea soon fades though as you remember what the horrible consequences of your failure would be, a caning that would be worse then anything you could imagine and more time in the cage added.

The teasing goes on for almost an hour usually, permeated with frequent stops and starts as you get ever closer to losing control of your body and cumming when you're not supposed to. It truly is a wicked predicament as what should be an enjoyable experience is turned into torture as you fight against your own sexual needs, struggling to keep calm, struggling to not fully enjoy the handjob because you don't want to cum and be punished.

Then just as soon as it starts it's over. She pulls away from you and gets up to leave, "get dressed, we're done" she snarls as she walks out of the room. Your cock pulsating and dripping, teetering on the edge of that all elusive orgasm, but denied once again.

Experience that every day for months and you'll be a shell of your former self. Miss H thinks it's funny that I can go from completely soft and unexcited to cumming in about thirty seconds. Now, if we dropped the kink and went back to our old "normal" ways, would I be able to last longer or am I now totally "broken"? I don't know and I hope I don't have to find out, for such is the life of a true sissy.

Cane update

Two quick updates for you today, both of which are related -

1) My ass still looks like I got assaulted with a baseball bat. The bruises have turned a deep purple/black but don't really hurt anymore. This pic was taken yesterday morning.

2) On a brighter note our new replacement cane came in the mail. We haven't tried it yet, Miss H wants to make sure my bruises heal first before she starts the beatings again, but the cane does seem very nice. It's more "springy" then our old cane which hopefully should prevent it from breaking again. It looks red in the picture but it actually is more of a pink/magenta. My favorite color ;)

Some fireworks of our own.

This past 4th of July weekend provided Miss H and I with some free time to engage in various activities we enjoy, namely beating the crap out of my sissy ass.

These first two pics were the night of -

If you'll notice in the upper right corner of the first pic you'll notice a broken 1/2" wooden dowel we were using as a substitute cane until the rattan one I ordered came in the mail. So that now makes one cane and one thick wooden rod that Miss H has broken over my ass during the course of a beating. This next pic was taken the morning after.

As of this morning the bruise is even nastier looking, moving to what looks like a big blob of black and deep purple. Much to Miss H's surprise, it's not really all that painful when I sit down. Just enough to notice, but not enough to wreck my day.