Friday, December 30, 2011

Essay task

Two nights ago Miss H and I had a little dust up (aka argument) before before bed. She was upset with my recent crappy attitude and I was still feeling a bit left out so we ended up going at it. Nothing overly severe, just a chance to get some feelings out for both of us. While we didn't necessarily go to bed in a wonderful mood, it did set the stage for a more in depth and productive conversation last night on our drive home from the airport. We had just dropped some of her family off at the airport for their trip home so on the way back we had a great opportunity to talk. No interruptions, just the two of us in the car really talking and most importantly, listening to one another.

One of the big things I took from this discussion is that as the submissive in this FLR, I really need to let go and just do what I'm told. It's not that I refuse Miss H or try to top from the bottom, I just seem to go in with good intentions and end up screwing things up because erroneously assume I know Miss H better then she knows herself. Case in point, the other night we had spent the majority of the day with her family and it was fun, kind of physically exhausting, but still enjoyable. At the end of the day we were hanging out in the bedroom when she proceeded to start running her foot up against the side of my leg. I got instantly hard, I kind of have a thing for her feet, and wanted to just attack her like a crazed monkey. Instead though I told her I didn't think that was a good idea and tried to change the subject, basically rejecting her flat out. It sounds like a dick move, but I did it not because I was trying to disobey her, but because I had the mistaken assumption that she was just doing it "to be nice". I was trying to be considerate of her feelings and let her get some sleep, but instead she took it as a slap in the face and me being disobedient.

It seems like most of our fights and problems seem to stem from me trying to do what I think Miss H really wants instead of just listening to what she says and doing what she asks. In the moment, I don't see the problem with what I'm doing because in my heart I think I'm doing the right thing and what's best for her. Instead I always come off as exactly the opposite of what I'm trying to do. In a regular relationship that might not be as important an issue, but in an FLR it's huge. By trying to help, I'm inadvertently making Miss H feel less secure in her role as the dominant and causing more problems and misunderstandings then I'm helping.

I think a lot of that has to do with issues I've had in earlier relationships. My ex wife and previous girlfriend both said that often times I wasn't as attentive to their needs or didn't pick up signals they were sending out in regards to what they wanted or how they were feeling. Those relationships ended for much bigger reasons, but that feeling of being so out of tune really bothers me still. So when Miss H says even the most harmless thing, I automatically go into panic mode and assume that there is some huge underlying meaning behind it. This is especially true when it's anything related to sex or kink. One little, "I can't stay up super late tonight because I have to work tomorrow", and I'm packing up the strap-on before we've even finished eating our dinner and had a chance to get started with everything.

So we talked about that a lot and I'm really going to try to start letting go of those fears and insecurities and just go with the flow instead of swimming against the current. It's going to be hard to just follow an order when I think she will be unhappy because of it, or she's not really in the mood to do it, or whatever, but doing what I'm doing now isn't working and isn't viable in the long term. She told me last night before bed that she wanted me to write an essay explaining to her what it meant to me to be a submissive.

It sounded like a good idea, I could explain to her how it meant that as the submissive you *don't* know what the Dom has in mind and you don't know what she has planned, so by trying to "fix" a problem you think is there when it really isn't is not your responsibility. It seems as though I should have taken that last sentence more to heart however. You see, I took a quick break after writing that last paragraph to ask Miss H a question about something totally unrelated. Before we finished I was so excited to tell her about this blog post and how I thought I had really learned something about how I could be a better submissive by listening to what we had talked about. I told her that I had combined her essay request with a blog post because I thought she would like a little background to go along with the essay so by combining the two she would find it much more interesting and insightful.

"Did I ask for a blog post or did I ask for a simple essay?", was her response.

I stood there feeling like a total asshole, here I was telling her how much I was going to try to change and yet once again I went out on my own instead of just doing what she asked. I wanted to crawl in a hole if for no other reason then to simply avoid her eyes meeting my own. I have a lot to learn and a lot of old baggage to get rid off. I only hope she takes comfort in the knowledge I am trying and want nothing more then to be the proper submissive she so rightfully deserves.

Wednesday, December 28, 2011

Mixed emotions

Last night Miss H and I were getting ready for bed and kind of just chilling out with the TV on. She turned it off which I assumed meant we were going to sleep so I hop under the covers, kicked my light off and waited for her to join me. She rolled over on her stomach with her Kindle and was getting ready to read. "Are you going to stay up and read", I asked, already knowing the answer. "Yeah, I figured I would for a while. Unless you had something else in mind", she replied. That was her way of testing the waters to see if I wanted to maybe start fooling around a bit. I also knew that more than likely she was only offering that up because she felt bad that our sex life and more importantly our FLR had been on an unannounced hiatus for a few weeks. She had already had a long day and I thought she could use some time to herself to decompress so I just gave her a kiss and said goodnight.

I spent a lot of time this morning thinking about why it was so easy to pass on any kinky play last night. It should have been much more difficult. I mean to be locked up non-stop for weeks and then pass on some potential relief? What the hell was that all about anyway? When I'm switching from Monday Night Football to a rerun of The Next Iron Chef, I do it because I love Miss H, but I'm still not overly joyed about missing the game. Giving up some adult time came rather easily however. I think a lot of it has to do with resigning myself to the fact that for roughly the past month I wasn't going to get anything so why bother trying. When you accept that circumstances of your situation you're much better able to deal with them. With Christmas time coming and her family flying in I knew a long time ago that for all intents and purposes, I was on lock down, both literally and figuratively.

Two or three months ago when things were hot and heavy, I was getting teased and toyed with relentlessly. Virtually every night I was masturbated without relief, we exchanged dirty txt's and emails all day, and I was getting dressed with wonderful frequency. I was horny and on a perpetual adrenaline rush. Recently though that hasn't been the case. I'm not trying to blame her or make her feel bad, because I totally understand the reasons why and they're completely justified. It's just that your libido is like a fire, stoke it frequently and give it the fuel it needs and watch out, you'll have a roaring blaze. Ignore it and it becomes a smoldering ember.

That's how I feel right now, it's not that I'm not horny, it's just that why get things fired up when I know nothing will come from it. Going so long without being teased and denied is having the opposite effect, denied by itself is just calming me down instead of firing me up. It's like a sexual "time out" that resets my level of horniness. Rewind a few weeks and Miss H wouldn't have even been able to get the first letter of "unless you had something else in mind" out before I was all over her like a rabid ferret in heat. Now I just kiss her cheek and go to sleep.

Feeling so calm, so stoic, bothers me. I've felt very alone recently and it's not a good feeling. It's not just the sex that I miss from our FLR, but the level of intimacy and closeness it provides. When we're ourselves, all I can think about is Miss H. I want to look at her, touch her, feel her skin, kiss her, just everything. That connection I feel with her when she orders her slave to do something, that excitement when I see her txt come in. A simple peck on the cheek before work becomes much more, as we dive into bed for just five more minutes so I can push my head between her soft thighs and pleasure her before she has to go.

We're both so busy now though that things feel mechanical, like two roommates sharing the same house. A kiss in the morning and one at night. A "how was your day?" when we get home. No adrenaline rush, no sexual tension, no panty wetting excitement over what may lie on the other side of the door when you walk in from a long day at work. Just "where do we have to be for this Christmas party" or "I'm tired, so I'm going to bed".

I know it's just a temporary funk, one that will soon pass as life gets back to normal after this hectic holiday season. I hate even writing this because I know I sound like a big whiny bitch (and this is one time where I don't mean that in a positive way) but it's been bugging me and part of the reason for keeping this blog is to provide a way for me to spill my guts when I have. It's very cathartic to write what I'm feeling down, kind of makes it real in a way that just running it over and over again in your head doesn't quite do. My biggest fear is that Miss H will read this, freak out and then suddenly go into ultra-Domme mode in a hot second. Trying to make up for and overcompensate for what we haven't been doing. That's just plain awkward because I'm already in place where I feel weird about jumping right back into the kink because its been a while and then I feel guilty because I feel like I've guilted her into doing something she really doesn't want to do right now anyway.

I really hate the way I feel right now. I'm horny enough to be thinking about kink all the time, yet not horny enough where I want to get into those things I really love but embarrass the hell out of me in front of Miss H. When I'm really in my sub mentality everything just flows so nicely, I'm horny, happy, and gung ho to do everything that I really enjoy. Now I just feel adrift.

Monday, December 26, 2011

Unintentional denial

It's about 11:12pm on Monday night and I've got the Saints/Falcons game on our bedroom TV instead of gently running my tongue along the length of Miss H's foot. I'm watching Drew Brees go for the all time passing yardage record when I could instead be massaging her sexy ass. It's not because I prefer a football game over being with Miss H, quite the contrary, but I don't have much choice. She's enjoying a well deserved bit of sleep while I'm left horny and locked up.

We had talked about playing with some of our new Christmas toys tonight (more on those in a future blog post) but it just didn't work out that that way. She was exhausted and even though she tried to rally and take a shower, it didn't take a genius to see she wasn't up for it tonight. I turned the lights off, told her to put her glasses on the nightstand and kissed her goodnight. She protested slightly but it wasn't long before I watched her fall asleep right before me.

The last couple of weeks have been really hectic for us as I'm sure they've been for a lot of other people. With the holiday season having just passed, I know we weren't the only ones running around in a seemingly never ending rat race of rampant consumerism gone wild. Shopping, doing our best Martha Stewart impression while attempting to decorate, trying to squeeze in a visit to every relative you possibly can, and everything else that encompasses the celebration of the season. It takes a toll to the point where even when we wanted to have some kinky fun one of us always seemed to either be too tired or too busy.

The last week especially was rough because Miss H had her family come in to visit from out of state. While they aren't staying with us, we've spent the vast majority of our time with them in some manner or another. I'm not complaining because I like her family and I've had a good time with everyone, but in the past ten days I think I've had my cock cage off perhaps twice, and our longest period of actual sexual contact being about half an hour. I know Miss H isn't trying to ignore me, she's tried on several occasions to show me she's interested, but I realize how busy and sleep deprived she's been so I feel guilty trying to take her up on her offers so I politely decline or try to switch the conversation to something else.

So what I'm going to do is what any good sub is supposed to do in my position. Be thankful that I'm able to serve such an amazingly beautiful, smart, and sexy Mistress, and patiently wait until things slow down and return to normal. When Mistress is ready and in the mood to get back into things I'm sure she'll make it readily apparent. Until then I'll be content in the knowledge that she's happy and resting comfortably and I'm lucky enough to be laying here next to her.

Tuesday, December 20, 2011

Diapered in public, again.

I think one of my favorite things about Miss H is when she completely surprises me with how kinky she can be. She's always so calm and reserved that I sometimes forget what a perv she truly is. It's one thing to plan a night of fun in advance then be surprised at what ever sexual hijinks she comes up with, it's quite another to be blindsided when you're engaged in the normal humdrum of every day life. Case in point last night. I got back from work and remembered that Miss H wanted to go food shopping at some point. I was making a mental note of things I needed to remember to get while Miss H was getting changed in the other room. I walked in to ask her something and we continued to talk while she dressed.

"By the way, grab the butt plug, you're getting diapered before we leave", she calmly said, as if she was telling me not to forget the milk or take out the trash. "Do I have to?", I meekly responded, trying to put up a fight and defend what tiny shred of masculinity I was still hanging on to.

"Yes", she replied, annoyed by my reluctance.

I laid everything out on the bed for her inspection, which seemed to meet her approval as she then ordered me to get ready.

I lubed up the butt plug and inserted it before pulling up the first diaper, a pair of pullups, then laid down on the bed. As much as I've learned to love being diapered, the worst part remains having to lay back and ask Miss H for help with the second thick diaper. It's much more padded then the pullups and has a slick plastic exterior and tape tabs to secure it. You can kind of fool yourself into thinking that the pullups are like underwear, but there's no mistaking the Tranquility All Through the Night diaper as anything but that, a big padded diaper that I have to wear. 

Asking for her help and having her actively place me in that diaper both sexually excites me to no end yet at the same time almost pushes me to the verge of tears some time. It's a weird paradox, being both simultaneously turned on and also suffering mentally and emotionally at the same time. I can't explain it, I just chalk it up to a crossed wire deep in the folds of my brain and leave it at that. 
To finish up I slid on the plastic panties and stood up. I was still wearing my cock cage so I could feel the strain in there as I unsuccessfully tried to get erect as the sensation of the butt plug deep inside me and the crinkle of my diapers proved to much to handle and I became immediately excited.

I've been forced to wear diapers out in public before, but this time was different thanks to the plug and the cage still being on. Simple things like sitting in the car became unexpected surprises as the butt plug pushed in deep as I sat down. Just as soon as I'd start to forget it was there, something new would happen to remind me of my predicament. Miss H wasn't helping matters by randomly whispering horribly degrading things in my ear while giving my ass a hard smack. 

The combination of some baggy cargo pants and a big t-shirt helped to minimize any totally obvious signs of the bulky diapers I was wearing, but that did little to keep me calm. With every step through the store I was keenly aware of just what I was wearing on, around, and in me. The whole experience was horribly embarrassing, I don't think I made eye contact with a single person while we were there. Every even semi cute female we walked by made me cringe with utter humiliation. My mind racing with what terrible things they would say to me if they know what was really going on.  Every guy I came across made me feel weak and feminine, as I remembered what Miss H said when we first walked through the entrance.

"How many men in this store do you think would allow themselves to be diapered, plugged, and caged by their wife or girlfriend? No real man would. How man men in the whole shopping center or the city or even the whole state would? You do though, because you're a little sissy bitch. Isn't that right?"
With my eyes fixed on the floor I slowly nodded as I continued to push the cart down the long, empty aisle. Cock twitching and leaking inside my diaper as Miss H walked on ahead, more concerned with getting the right salad dressing then bothering herself with my crushed feelings.

Sunday, December 18, 2011

More comfortable

After the events of yesterday I wasn't upset, quite the opposite. Miss H being selfish and bitchy with her masturbation was awesome.  I was really happy to see her act in that manner for two reasons, first for selfish reasons it's just the type of dehumanization, humiliation, and control, that I so deeply crave. Second, every time she pushes our boundaries it makes me feel like she's becoming more comfortable in her role as the Dom in our relationship. FLR is new to both of us and although we've been practicing it for about a year now, it's still in the early stages. We're both on a learning curve so seeing her take any new steps, no matter how small in terms of being aggressive and free with what she wants from our kink is awesome.

With each passing month I can see her becoming more relaxed and at ease. She no longer seems like she's following a scene and worries if she's going "off script". Yesterday was a good example of that. She's probably wanted to just randomly masturbate with a vibrator before and not having me hanging all over her, kissing, touching, and smothering her with affection. In the past she was still the Dom but maybe didn't want to hurt my feelings so she let me in on things even they she may have preferred to be left alone. Now maybe she isn't worried so much about "pissing me off" because she realizes our relationship is so strong and that we truly love each other so very much.

The important thing we're both realizing is that in a clear cut Dom/sub relationship like we have, *she* is in charge. So although I may be dying for vicious abuse and being tied up like the gimp all night, if she just wants a cup of tea and her laundry done then that's how it's going to go. I shouldn't be upset when my every fantasy isn't played out to my liking each night and she shouldn't feel guilty to do what ever it takes to make herself happy and satisfied. To be banished while your significant other pleases herself without you or without any desire to involve you might be a problem in your average vanilla marriage, but Miss H and I have a very special relationship where the abnormal is the new normal. And it works for us, so what's the harm in enjoying ourselves?

Saturday, December 17, 2011

Face the wall

This morning Miss H woke me up by placing her hand between my legs and softly stroking me through my panties and pink sissy pajamas. It didn't long for me to pop right awake and begin rubbing, kissing, and doing everything possible in a desperate attempt to try and get my pathetic self off. Miss H was enjoying the attention and cuddling. I've become used to her getting me super excited and turned on only to stop and shoo me away at the peak of my arousal but today was different.

Usually she'll tell me that she's done with me (using any number of derogatory terms and words), then fall back asleep or get up if it's time to go to work. The difference today was that while I was rubbing her clit with my fingers she suddenly pulled away and told me to roll over and face the wall until I was told differently. There was no mention of her stopping for the night so I assumed were going to continue, just with something new. Next I heard her reach into her night stand and pull something out. I erroneously assumed that she was getting out the bottle of lube and she would then begin stroking me to tease me a bit more. She often masturbates me in the spooning position with her pressed up behind me so I was anxiously waiting for my treat.

Much to my dismay and disappointment I was shocked to hear the sound of her vibrator turning on

"May I watch you?", I asked.

"No, just keep looking at the wall. You're not allowed to look at me", she said with clenched teeth as the vibrator began working its magic between her soft thighs.

Anytime Miss H has masturbated with me around in the past it's always been a joint venture. If I wasn't directly pleasuring her pussy I was at least kissing her or playing with her very sensitive nipples. It was never a totally solo thing like it had just become. I felt so left out, unwanted, and yet even more horny then I had been. After about five minutes of sheer torture as I leaked pre-cum listening to her use that buzzing vibrator on herself, she told me I was allowed to rub my sissy clit. I still wasn't allowed to look at her, touch her or in any other way interact with her. I was left pushed off to the side of the bed, staring off at the wall, the glow of my clock radio illuminating  the outline of my hand as it furiously pumped up and down from beneath the sheets. Grunts and groan escaping my lips as I continually caught myself before cumming all over the bed, jonesing for release but relegated to frustration as I could do nothing about it.

"You can play with that little sissy clit for a few more minutes if you want, although I don't know why you'd even bother with something so useless", she muttered as she rolled over and dozed off to sleep soon after having her own orgasm. The feeling of an orgasm something I haven't experienced in over three months, I thought to myself as I lay there awake and unsatisfied yet again.

Friday, December 16, 2011

The hood.

Just a follow up to my previous post about breath play and specifically the inflatable hood Miss H and I own. I said I would try to get some pics of it and here they are. The first is the hood itself in an un-inflated state. Even when it isn't blown up it can be quite intimidating to use. It completely surrounds the head cutting off all sense of sight and smell. The breathing tube fits in the mouth and acts like a gag, preventing pretty much any type of talking and leaves you feeling open and exposed.

You'll have to excuse the lack of shine on it, I didn't get a chance to put any rubber glow or similar polish on it, so it has that dull matte look to it. Anyway, when inflated it gets even worse, because initially the hood feels pretty tight to start with, then as it's being pumped up you can feel it slowly fill up and push back around your face and head, becoming totally form fitting and claustrophobic. If Miss H decides to put ear plugs in, the combination of the plugs and the inflation makes hearing extremely difficult.

The feeling of total sensory deprivation can be intense, especially if kept in the hood for any length of time. The biggest mind fuck is when you're left alone in there. It doesn't take long to kind of drift off to a dream world in your mind as the only stimulation you experience is the feel of the breathing tube in your mouth. The unexpected hand on the tube, blocking off your air or twist of a nipple provides a singular, extreme sensation. You have no other tactile or sensory inputs except that sudden jarring pain or fear. Even the slightest feelings like a hand across your inner thigh become that much more intense.
This particular hood is among my favorite toys, and has been for a long time.

Wednesday, December 14, 2011

Breath play

In my previous post I made a quick mention of choking Miss H. Up until probably a year ago that wasn't something that even really appealed to me. It was just a thing you heard on TV after somebody took their own auto-erotic asphyxiation play a bit to far.

The first few times Miss H and I played around with choking we both enjoyed it immensely. I totally got off on the power trip of choking her and she was near orgasmic from the head rush and thrill of it all. As time passed and we started to settle into our more comfortable roles of me being the submissive and her the dominant, the choking continued but now it was me on the receiving end of things. At first I was kind of nervous about doing it but that fear quickly subsided as the turn on increased. The feeling of being so helpless and completely under someone else's power is a complete adrenaline rush with a huge dose of sexual excitement thrown in for good measure.

Miss H used to almost exclusively just use her hand around my throat as a means to control my breathing. She would squeeze, I would start to struggle, and eventually she would let go. The only problem is that maintaining a consistent pressure and level of oxygen deprivation can be tough. If I start to thrash around she can loose a good grip and fortunately/unfortunately depending on how you look at it, Miss H doesn't actually want to kill me so she always presses more lightly then she could or I would like. That's probably for the best as I prefer my trachea in an uncrushed state, but still.

We've also used a really wicked looking inflatable hood that I bought at Demask in NYC a few years ago. There aren't any eye holes, nose holes, or mouth opening per se other then a roughly six inch tube that is placed in the mouth and extended outside the hood. I'll take a pic and try to post it later but for now just try to use your imagination. It's a great item and provides for a safer means of breath control (if there is such a thing, talk about an oxymoron) because it only takes a hand over the end of the tube to totally shut off all breathing in an instant. 

More recently however we've moved into something new. Miss H will push my head between her breasts, which are huge, or between her ass or sometimes her pussy and just wrap her arms around it with a death lock preventing me from pulling away. Then she'll sit there calmly and watch as I begin to freak out and desperately try to pull away. She'll do this without warning so some times I have a chance to take a breath before hand, other times not at all. If I have a hand free I'll "tap out" on her thigh when I start to panic as I sign that I can't take much more. I think she really enjoys this because she's never once stopped when I tried signaling her. She always takes things a bit further, makes it a bit scarier, and gets me that much closer to cumming. She lets me free when she wants to, not when it would suit me. The feeling I get from these experiences is amazing. People say they like bondage because it allows them to give up control. Well nothing can compare to giving up control of your breathing.

The first time Miss H let me loose after smothering me between her breasts she was a bit concerned by the fact I was sort of flopping around like a fish and grunting loudly. She thought I was suffering from lack of oxygen and spazzing out to breath once again. In fact, I was struggling to keep myself from cumming all over the place. With even the slightest bit of penis stimulation, the combination of physical and mental turn on is immense and gets me to the edge almost every time. Those first few seconds when your brain goes ballistic with fear from you not being able to breath and you realize that you're not getting another breath until she allows you to is the ultimate in submission.

Monday, December 12, 2011

Power Play

Last night marked a very important yet subtle point in our FLR relationship. It was nothing we had planned for or expected. In fact it appeared at first to be nothing more then one of our usual tease and denial sessions. Miss H had an important meeting at work today so although I've been terribly horny these past few days she mentioned that she needed to get to bed early so if I was lucky she might pay some attention to me for a few minutes before we went to bed. That was more then ok with, any attention from Miss H no matter how brief is a welcome reward, to have her stroke that tiny cock while whispering the most horrible of verbal assaults into my ear is a turn on like few other things to me.

Miss H was gracious enough to allow me to watch the Giants game and we started our wind down as the game was ending, eventually crawling under the covers as the Giants pulled out the victory. She rolled onto her side with her gorgeous ass facing me. Unsure if she was too tired to do anything I just pulled up against her and spooned her, figuring if she wanted more she would initiate, and if not I would at least be able to cuddle up against her as she fell asleep. The slow rhythmic rubbing of her ass against me signaled I was allowed to proceed. I quickly began dry humping her ass like a dog in heat, the slight bit of pleasure I was able to feel from underneath all those clothes was incentive enough to keep going.

She reached her hand back and started rubbing her cock through the outside of my pants. I was so turned on and thrusting against her hand that she soon moved it to my mouth. I was so wet that I had leaked through onto her hand and she pushed her fingers into my mouth to lick it off. The touching and rubbing continued in various incarnations for a while, constantly driving me toward the edge of cumming only to stop short each time. I was getting more and more turned on with each passing minute and she could sense it. My breathing was getting deeper, I was grunting with each stroke, and my hands were rubbing and squeezing her more firmly the longer she went on.

In the past, Miss H had usually been more of a submissive, she was that way with others and early in our relationship we both switched pretty regularly. I was mostly submissive, but occasionally would get an aggressive streak and want to be the Dom. It was only in the last year or so that we both really fell into our current preferences. My innate submissive tendencies have fully come to the surface and Miss H is fully embracing the Dominant role more and more each day.  I mention that only because what happened next called those feelings back to the forefront.

Miss H kept ratcheting up the dirty talk and verbal abuse and I in turn was getting more and more riled up and excited. Miss H is icy calm during this time while I on the other hand am squirming and moaning like a wounded animal. I reach over and grab her should while beginning to kiss her neck. She arcs her neck back slightly to accept my advances and rubs the back of my head while I eagerly kiss her, moving up to her cheek and eventually her lips. She's actively involved but it's only when my hand accidentally ends up around her throat do I hear the first real moan of pleasure from her.
I hadn't meant to put my hand around her like that, I was simply caressing her face and neck with it while kissing, it was by no means an aggressive act initially and was done without any conscious thought on my part. As I mentioned, earlier in our relationship Miss H loved to be choked and treated roughly, but that was a long time ago so this came as a bit of a shock to me. At first I pulled my hand away as soon as I realized what I had done. I was sure I was about to get in trouble and probably caned for such an act of disrespect. Instead Miss H never broke stride and continued kissing me

We continued making out and rubbing one another for a while before at one point I took the back of her head in my hand to pull her closer so I could kiss her even deeper. It wasn't violent or angry by any means, more of the passionate type kiss you might see in a movie. As my fingers slid into her long hair I could feel her body tense. Miss H used to love having her hair pulled during sex so I ever so slightly made a fist to pull her hair back. Again, I expected a slap to the face or any angry yell if nothing else. I was greeted with a soft moan escaping her lips. I pulled harder and she moaned even more. At this point I was still in total submissive mind set so although you could consider these "Dom" type actions, I didn't look at them as so. I was doing something that made Miss H happy, so if that entailed orally pleasing her, licking her toes, or in this case, roughly pulling her hair, I was doing something for her benefit.

It was obviously getting her turned on to which she responded with an even deeper and more depraved level of verbal abuse, with a fine tuned and razor sharp level of intensity that had me pooling pre-cum, and on the verge of tears. Things began to escalate rapidly, she was adding fuel to my sexual fire and I was only getting more and more amped up. The gentle hair pulling and light grip around her throat were becoming rougher and rougher and yet the more physical I got, the wetter she was. The whole time though she remained surprisingly calm, her slightly quickening breathing and occasional moaning giving her away. 

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't turned on by what was happening though. The sudden feeling of power and control I had was immense. For a split second I thought back to earlier times, before I became a full time chastity slave, when if I wanted sex I would have it. Being in chastity means a never ending series of denials and frustration. Nothing is ever enough. When you're in chastity all you want is to be let out. When you're out all you want is to be touched. When you're touched all you want is some release, even just a ruined orgasm. When you've been allowed a ruined orgasm all you want is a the real thing. It's a cycle of never truly getting what you want, to have to constantly beg and plead for sexual scraps instead of taking what it is you truly want.

"If you were a real man you'd just fucking take what you want and stop screwing around you little sissy bitch", she challenged me with.

It was a typical male ego attack but it worked. All these months of sexual denial came flooding to the for front. Literally growling like an animal I pinned her beneath me, my hand gripping her neck, ready to finally put an end to the unrelenting sexual needs I have. The whole rest of the night was playing through my mind at warp speed, how I would tear her panties off of her body, how her legs would feel wrapped around me as I furiously fucked her deep and hard. The look on her face as she realized she wasn't the dominant bitch she pretended to be.

It was at that moment that she opened her eyes and our gaze locked. It was the first time since we started that our eyes met and we made eye contact. She just smiled slightly with an amused grin on her face and looked at me. She didn't struggle, she didn't scream, she just looked at me.

"Don't you for a even a second think you're actually dominant, that you have any control what so ever in this relationship. You're doing what you're doing because I allow you to. I let you do it so you can pretend for a little while that you're actually a real man, even though we both know that you aren't. Isn't that right?'

And just like that I was done. All of that testosterone induced bravado had been let out like the air from a balloon.

"Yes Mistress", I whispered as I slunk down and moved to a more humble posture, almost in the fetal position with my head resting on her large, warm breasts.

"That's a good girl", is all that I remember her saying after that. She said more but I literally felt almost drunk. I could hear that she was saying something but the words weren't registering, all I could do was hold her tightly. and think about how broken I actually was. What had started out initially as a way to spice up your sex life so very long ago was becoming something much more. Something that both excited and scared me.

Friday, December 9, 2011

Follow up to my previous post.

How appropriate, after writing yesterday's blog entry on the pain and discomfort that is often associated with the modern ideal of how a woman should look, I have a few battle injuries from last night to share with you. Nothing major like black and blue marks from another caning, just some minor scraping on the tip of the penis from an extended bout of dry humping Miss H and some redness on my toe from wearing those platforms for to long. Although is it ever really to long when they're so damn hot and sexy to wear?

Neither is overly life threatening and the prognosis is looking good that I'll be able to pull through these medical emergencies. Your love and support during this trying time is most appreciated ;)

Beauty is pain

What's that old saying, beauty is pain? I find myself believing that more and more with each passing month of dressing. Trying to be sexy is definitely not something that happens quickly or with little effort. Watch virtually any prime time sitcom and you're bound to run across that standard played out joke about the woman taking to long to get ready for a night out while her inpatient boyfriend/husband trudges around the house exasperated at how long it's taking. I've done, and unfortunately, to a degree still do, bitch and moan to Miss H when she's getting ready when we're trying to go out. Which, to be fair, is odd considering how long it takes me to get ready when I get "dressed" myself.

On a purely physical, non-sexual level, I don't necessarily enjoy the various steps that go into "being a woman". Walking in high heels are a pain compared to a pair of comfy running shoes. Makeup during a heatwave in August? Not all that fun. Yet I still eagerly do it because the mental aspect just does it for me on so many other levels. The more restrictive the clothes, the sluttier the look, the more uncomfortable the situation, the more I enjoy it. Part of that is probably because I'm so submissive by nature, it just plays into the whole shut up and take it type mentality I enjoy.  A super tight corset is very much like a pair of tight handcuffs, something that is restrictive and inhibits your natural actions.

On a much deeper level though I think, and I'm doing some self psychoanalysis here, I enjoy the process of transforming from the average guy next door to a slutty whore bitch, of which the careful regime of getting dressed is a huge part. It acts as a gateway from one extreme to the other. Where as a football player might make the switch between a calm educated adult to a quarterback crushing animal by psyching him self up before a game with yelling and screaming, I make the switch by gently sliding on stockings and slipping on a bra. Each has the same effect, you leave your normal comfort zone and enter a mental place you want to be.

I don't want to sound all Buffalo Bill from Silence of the Lambs creepy, or anything, but it really does feel like a transformation when I'm fully dressed and in my proper sub space mentality. Things I wouldn't do or say in my normal vanilla life aren't held back anymore. I'm much more outgoing, open, and less nervous when I'm dressed and serving Miss H. It's such a mental escape valve to blow off negative feelings. No matter what issues I might have to deal with that are bothering me, being able to take a break from them, even if only briefly is a great way to reset me and alleviate an unimaginable amount of stress.

So I guess kinky sex and dressing in particular is kind of my coping mechanism. Probably not the healthiest way to deal with life when things get tough, but it could be worse. I could be an alcoholic, use drugs, or just be an asshole in general, instead I pull on a shiny satin pink sissy dress or lace up some thigh high boots. Doesn't seem so bad in comparison now does it? There's also other options like running (which I do) or meditation (which I've always wanted to try) to keep you sane, but they aren't quite as much fun as dressing like a hooker now are they?

Wednesday, December 7, 2011


If you live in or near Philadelphia and you're the slightest bit kinky you probably have heard of the Diabolique Fetish Ball. It's about the largest fetish event in the area and happens once a year, usually in late November but this year was held this past Saturday night, December 3rd. I've personally gone just about every year for the last 7-8 years and have always had a great time. Miss H went for the first time last year and really enjoyed it as well. It takes place at Shampoo (a giant night club in Center City) and provides a nice mix of industrial/electro music, drinking, play areas, and amazing eye candy to look at.

Seeing as how last year was our first Diabolique together, we took it kind of slow. We were both still in the beginning stage of our kinky life together so I didn't want to rush things and make her feel uncomfortable. It's kind of funny, here I was going out of my way to "protect" her and make sure she wasn't nervous, and then she ends up pulling me aside into a small seating area and proceeds to masturbate me under my dress while four or five other people sit around us totally oblivious to what's going on. So much for being a delicate little flower.

We bought tickets for this years ball back in September or whenever it was that they first went on sale. I picked up an amazing new dress to wear too. A black PVC micro mini dress that literally barely covers my ass. Any attempt at bending over provides an instant show of my thong. Anyway, Miss H and I had been looking forward to going for a while now, Miss H constantly teasing and toying with me about what sinister plans she had in store for me when we went. Being made to wear a shall we say, suggestive, sign around my neck or writing on me with a sharpie or even a simple being led around on a leash were all ideas she made sure I was aware of.

When Saturday morning rolled around I just didn't feel like going to the ball however. I'm not really sure why either, because I was horny as always, dying to dress, and generally in a severely kinky mood. Maybe it was because Diabolique would just be one more tease and I wanted the real thing. The humiliation of being degraded in public and watching all that PVC and latex stroll around the ball would just leave me feeling as horny as ever with yet again no release. I wanted to feel something, to do something, with Miss H. I subtly hinted to her how I felt and she voiced a similar opinion. We were both worried that by saying we were ok with not going, we were secretly disappointing the other person, but eventually came up with a good alternative to Diabolique. We would head out for a nice dinner, just the two of us, then return home for a drink or two and then engage in some kinky fun of our own.

I got dressed in my new outfit and added my thigh high pink PVC boots to the mix while Miss H put on her own kinky ensemble, a black rubber look top and frilly black panties. We spent most of the time enjoying each other in numerous ways, most of which entailed me pleasuring her while she teased, beat, and verbally humiliated me. This was early on, before she really went after my ass with the cane.

If Diabolique had been the night before or the night after we would have gone with out a second thought and had an amazing time. There was just something about that particular night that just made it feel more right for the two of us to be alone and enjoy each others company more then that of total strangers. Next year we're definitely going again, this year though was just our night.