My princess now wears my key around her neck.
She likes to dangle it in front of me.
My princess now wears my key around her neck.
She likes to dangle it in front of me.
So I think today marks the longest period of time I’ve ever been restricted.
The cage and key also add a whole new dimension.
There is a small shudder that I feel in my hands as I work.
I didn’t expect this would make me feel so .. vulnerable.
I didn’t expect how much I would crave your simple approval.
Tiny little butterfly anxieties flicker through me so often. All these little fears each wrapped up in you - do you really like me this ..submissive? Will you really do those things? Will you not do them?
And then I hear your voice. So sweet and calm. As I spoke aloud my commitments again, my heart started beating so fast.
And you told me again, that this is what you want. That I am staying this way as long as you want. It’s not my choice anymore.
And all my butterflies disappeared. And I felt calm and safe.
And ready for whatever is next.
I woke up this morning… and I can’t stop thinking about you.
I close my eyes, and I’m in my knees again, and I’m licking you. And I’m clamped and it hurts and I’m too afraid to tell you to hurt me more.
You tell me how you shaved on Friday. And you didn’t shave for me. And I wanted to say Miss never needs to shave for me.
You do not need my approval. You do not need to please me. You do not need my permission. I have already given it all to you already.
The look on your face. The slight change in the movement of your body, when you realized you liked saying being so cruel, saying the selfish words aloud. And in that moment, I loved you even more, your strength growing, and felt myself pushed that much more under your power.
“I do not get to negotiate anymore.” I reminded you. I reminded myself.
I remember lying there looking at you hold the clamps in your hand. As you just moved them around. Intoxicated by what they can do to me. Those hands.
And your thrill in your eyes when clamped me again. How you re-adjusted the second clamp, because you could tell that it should hurt more, without me saying anything.
And then the words came out slowly.. I was scared what I was going to say. “No. … please … No…Stop. It’s too much.”
Your hand clamped down over my mouth. You lifted the chain so calmly and pulled ever so gently. There were no more words for me now. Just the pain, and your hands, and the feel of your body over mine. Your choice over my words.
Afterwards, when it was over, my head in your lap, running your fingers through my hair. You whispered “good boy”. I did not want to be anywhere else in the world.
I wake up this morning. I can’t stop thinking. Your hands, your words, your skin, your smell. I reach to touch myself and instead find my little cage, and the little lock. I move the lock back and forth in my hand. Breathe.
My princess is sexy. I will submit to her desires and her pleasure.
My princess is strong. I will give her my courage and my support.
My princess is smart. I will submit to her choices and her rules.
My princess is powerful. I will submit to her cruelty and her punishments.
My princess is precious. I will always give her the care she deserves.
My princess is beautiful. I will adore her always.
With these promises, I give her this key. I give her my pleasure and my pain. My tears and my joy. My frustrations and my release.
And most of all, my love.
For as long as she chooses.
So after finding myself in what is probably the best leather/sex store in the USA, you told me to go purchase a chastity device. I had been here years ago, and since I was traveling here, I knew they would be the best place to go for this.
My hats go off to the salesmen. I was amazed that they actually let you try on the devices first.
The salesman had no problem examining my completely incorrect approach to pushing my cock and balls through a tiny silicone cage. Interestingly enough, this was not my first “naked” sex purchasing experience(but that’s for a different post). However this was certainly a new experience learning how to pull a testicle into the right position.
I think we both felt that new thrill as the key locked me down.
I wasn’t surprised when you told me you wanted to cuckhold me. It seemed somehow strangely natural that the first thought you shared after I was locked, was going out and fucking someone else.
And then you wanted to see me fucked. Wanted me to know what’s like to have a cock in my mouth and ass. To watch me used, hurt, humilated. But not given release.
What really surprised me more was how my mind and body has latched onto this. The real commitment to what the lock means: I have no choice. Who fucks me isn’t my choice. Who fucks you isn’t my choice.
And it feels so natural to give you what you want. I expected maybe jealousy, but instead I feel joy. I want to give you this power. Feel your power.
I get excited now. Now that I have agreed. The idea that at anytime, I could get a text. That you are out now. That tonight you might be kissing someone else, or sucking him. Or more.
And there will be no warning. No more negotiations about it. The lock stays where it is. Where it belongs. Where it feels right and solid and good.
A little key that is full of your power and beauty and grace.
Where you know I am still yours. Even more now then ever.
Today I am thousands of miles away from you. I don’t have the touch of your hand, or sweet smell of your hair to settle me. Your voice helps. Your smile. But it also reminds me of the horrible distance.
I’m glad I got to be with you before I flew away. I felt so good waking up with you, licking you, pleasing you. I felt myself fall back into that space, lying curled between your legs. The arching of your back, and the sound of your moan.
My dick was so hard then, and I knew that it would stay that way. It wouldn’t matter if I was traveling. There was to be no release for me that morning. It was scary and powerful and good.
The hotel room is now when it’s the most difficult. I sleep naked. We have the webcam, and I know you watch me sleep. But it’s a struggle.
The days are so busy. So many meetings and work is long and thankfully distracting. But this room is where I have to be yours again. My sweet little prison.
I lie here on the bed and close my eyes.. and breathe… and suddenly I am back with you. I am blindfolded and curled at your feet again. And you rub your hand gently through my hair to calm me. And let me give you this suffering, and I feel safe. And yours.
Day 7 of denial.
You are driving to me now.
I’m showered, shaved (everywhere), and clean.
Wearing the plug and the collar as required.
The butterflies are starting.
Last night, while I slept blindfolded and collared, I stirred. I heard the mechanical whir of the webcam panning and tilting and I knew you were watching me. Did you get excited? I hoped so much you did. I must have woken at least 3 times, each time with an erection and a head full of notions.
Yesterday was an emotional roller coaster. With racing taxi cabs and job interviews and shoes that made your feet hurt. (I wanted to rub them so much). So many plans and opportunities for the future. A future with a bed we share.
Today is for us. We have a house and privacy and time. Nobody around to hear the sound of the paddle strike me, nor my pleas for mercy.
Those are just for your pretty ears. Sweet sounds for your deep heart.
I like these calm quiet moments before you arrive. It’s finally spring.
Life stirring into beauty. Things growing and changing.
I love you so much.
It’s day 6 now. 6 days without an orgasm.
It’s impossible to describe.
My hand shakes. I can’t stop looking at things. I surfed tumblr porn for hours last night. But that just makes it worse.
I need to move but the slightest thought paralyzes me with desire.
I keep thinking about your smell. Your hand moving over my chest. My skin. Your hand moving gentle and slow, feeling me tense underneath. Playing. Knowing that I’m ready to yield to you.
Im paralyzed by the magic spell in your eyes and in your hair.
I shiver, ready for the pain. I know you will bind me and mark me first. Bind me to your raw desire. I am suddenly lost in your skin and hands and fury.
And found too. This precious home in your bed and in your heart. To be taken by real beauty and love and passion.
I am yours, my love.
Last night, while sitting with you in a parked car, you reached over and pinched my nipples so hard.
It fucking takes my breath away.
I heard words come out of my mouth .. “Omg. Please. No.”
I said no. It escaped. You held for a few more seconds. And finally let go.
And I wanted it again. More than I said. More than I admitted.
All I can think about now, is being bound and restrained. And feeling you pinch me again. And me begging again.
I say the words. “No. Please. I can’t take it. ”
And you stop for a moment. Just to make me believe you are listening. And then pinch again. And again. And again. Enough times so that I can hear how those words don’t work with you anymore. That I don’t choose anymore. Enough times to have to surrender over and over.
My body is yours. And you know how to control me.
Can’t stop thinking about this.
I’ve been thinking about how the orgasm restriction starts making me want more restrictions.
It’s such a strange thing. Because after a while… It’s not suffering anymore. Instead it’s like this constant surrendering. And there is this exquisite pleasure in surrender.
And I become focused on you in this powerful way. Think about being close. The touch of your skin. Your smell. The sound of your voice. And when I’m not with you, it hurts. Aches.
There is also something .. physical grounding that happens to me. I spend so much of the day focused on things in my head. I got lost in ideas. My work is all mental. And I can get so lost there at times.
But the restriction is this powerful force that pulls me back into flesh. Into the mode of my body and its function and purpose. Everything physical feels different. Tastes different.
I think that’s when the desires for more restrictions come from. Especially things related to my body… Eating… Sleeping.. Grooming. Even taking a way distractions like TV and Web are like tools to focus my back on being good. And yours. Here. Now. Yours.
If I can’t eat something I desire, then it’s a new way to surrender. If I can’t play a game, it’s a struggle with escaping into distraction or being grounded on what matters for us.
A new moment during my day when I’m pulled back into my body. Another moment I have to become yours.
And each restriction builds on the central restriction. The central idea that this body isn’t mine anymore. If I’m struggling, I’m just a slow breath away from resurrecting that raw desire for you. The need that’s always there. Always ready to remind me.
And it all only works when that surrender is to you. Another way to give you this flawed and unworthy body. In your hands it suddenly has purpose and a place. If I can’t take care of it for me, I should do it for you. Try to be worthy of your touch and attention. To make those eyes of yours giggle with excitement. To make you powerful and beautiful and strong.
It’s not really about making me suffer. It’s about making me yours. About you taking advantage of this fragile mental state this creates to possess me.
I know you don’t get pleasure from restricting me as if I’m punished. But it’s not punishment. It’s surrender. Its not really restriction, it’s an opportunity forms to give you power. And for me to feel that power.
Because each act of surrender binds me to you. In this way that even extends past just this power exchange. And it feels so good.
I have tasks. But I can’t focus. I keep wanting to read things. Play games. I played picross. And it was forbidden. I can’t tell what that was. I thought I needed just a minute to be myself. But instead I just felt … wrong.
I played for 10 minutes or so. Then I felt bad. Like I betrayed her or myself. That I should be better than this. But can’t she tell that I can’t settle?
I need her so fucking much. I’m afraid to say it. Cause maybe I will scare her.
She’s curious. And interested. And she likes this.
I worry that she only does this for me. Because she sees the hunger. She hesitates. She’s confused by my sudden … transformation? I go from confidant to needy. I want to tell her to take me. Give me release. or not give me release.
Give me her attention. Her touch. Her cruelty. A slap.
I hate the taxes. They always scare me. Even though this year they seem mostly done. But I hate feeling bad. They make me feel like I should have done better.
It’s hard to balance this. Submission. Denial. Fear. Need. Focus.
Pain. The pain helps maybe.
I forgot I slipped the nipple clamps in my bag. I could clamp myself. But what if it makes it worse?
I think it’s just the … unending need.
I can’t even tell what I need from her to settle me. It’s not the frustration that bothers me. It’s that I can’t settle. And I know there could be some command, or restriction, or even just a smile, that will make me settle.
I can do this.
I can do this for her.
Just surrender the fear. And the doubt. And the choice. Surrender my anxiety that she doesn’t really want this. My anxiety that I will overwhelm her. That I might make her scared or lonely or bad. I need to trust her.
I will stop writing in a moment. And write everything down on my list of things. And start. Just start.
I will just do it for her.
Because I love her.
Breathe. Love. Do.