Duct Tape and Junk

The week was busy with plans every night. Monday was game night. Tuesday was my usual lesson in cooking with Blake. Wednesday was an educational discussion on Dungeon Etiquette 101. This was not a lesson that I needed in particular but it got me out of the house and junk is rather new to everything so I thought it would be nice to attend something a little more formal to help explain things. I didn’t need to worry about her. Common sense is strong in this one! Thursday was my hair appointment but after that I would have a few hours to kill. Today is the slumber party that I helped arrange to teach any female-identified person who wanted to learn how to do hair and make-up. I have a feeling we’ll be watching some My Little Ponies throughout the night. Chick flicks are scheduled. A new TNG member is supposed to be catering for us with payment being getting to cuddle with all the beautiful girls after he’s done serving us. Saturday night is the annual bash for TNG and we’re trying something a little different: featured scenes. Impact play, high protocol, and puppy play are on the agenda, along with another night of catered food. Sunday is meant for recovery. I’m hoping to sleep more than five hours before going back to work Monday morning.

I’ve been out with junk just about every night since we started hanging out. She accompanies me to all the socials and meetings I want to go to, despite being brand new to the scene. She has dinner with me and even offers to pick me up and just show me her hobbies and business that she runs on the side. It may never translate to a whole lot of play or even that many hours spent together but it turns out we’re quite capable of enjoying ourselves even if we’re just on the couch together watching Star Trek. Thursday could have been spent writing my novel that I’ve fallen behind in or it could have been spent catching up on sleep, but I was really hoping that I could squeeze in a quick scene with her. We’d had one before with paddles and canes and I really enjoyed myself. This time though I wanted to try something different.

Bondage is something that most people I meet have an interest in. I really need to start learning rope. In lieu of rope though, I summon my mighty tools of the trade: saran wrap and duct tape. To date, I’ve only done a partial duct tape mummification with Joey in which I wrapped up his arms, making it look like sleeves, done one night when I wasn’t feeling well enough to provide the scene I had originally planned which probably had something to do with ass play. My last mummification had been with Devin, all saran wrap, tighter than I’d done with Joey. The point of this one was to wrap him up tight and to give him the feeling of bondage whereas with Joey it was trying to wrap him to something so that he would have to strain to break out of it. Each objective was completed to satisfaction and each of them had to be done differently, so I thoroughly enjoyed each challenge. With junk, I just wanted to introduce her to the idea of mummification, give her a taste to see if she’d like it. I normally do this with only saran wrap but the duct tape was so tempting because…

I’d been reflecting on what I would have done differently in Devin’s scene. The questionable bar right above my computer was brought into play so I could tether him to it. For him, he would have preferred if he could have been lying down and I had planned to do that the next time. But a great idea struck me when I was staring up at it one day trying to figure out how to better utilize it: wrists. junk doesn’t have any cuffs yet because I hadn’t committed to the idea of her having an entire set. I use play collars with any play partner, which is definitely what she is at this point, but an entire set of cuffs and collar falls more into protocol and we haven’t reached that point at all. But the idea of wrapping something around her wrists and then looping it over the bar was enticing and so that was what I had planned. I’d run the idea by Devin and he agreed that it would have been better than just being tethered.

After grabbing some dinner and learning that the best punishment for this masochist is making her watch Twilight and chomp at a bit made of licorice, I led her to this corner of my living room and ran my hands down her body. There is something so attractive about her to me that I don’t normally see in others of her body type that I’m always surprised when I can’t keep my hands off her. I think by now she’s probably used to it. I’ve pinched her sides until they’ve bruised a deep plum; I’ve punched her breasts hard enough to leave yellow spots behind. I can’t stop petting her or pulling her hair or touching her face. At the very least, I’ve always got a hand on her, guiding her, claiming her, pulling her to me, pushing her somewhere, letting her know that I’m still there.

I slid my hands between her stomach and her shirt and pushed it up over her chest, pulled it over her head. She was sweet and tried to be helpful in removing her bra but I assured her I knew how to do it — I’ve had plenty of years of practice. I can never resist her nipples when they’re exposed, her sensitive breasts. I want to grab them and shove my fingers into them and bite them. But there was much more to do. Sliding around behind her, I unfastened her belt, pushed her pants down, but left her panties on. There’s something incredibly erotic about watching her soak her panties that always makes me want to keep them on. She also kept her socks on, which I assumed was because she was afraid she would get cold. Then I pulled her over to the bar and positioned her beneath it.

Saran wrap was pulled out and wrapped up each arm individually. They were not restrained together. Instead, I wrapped some silver duct tape around her wrists and looped it over the bar. She would have to stretch a bit to reach. I know, because I have to have a step stool to reach the bar at all and we’re nearly the same height. Her body pulled up like that, stretched taut, was beautiful. I would have spent more time touching her then too but I wanted to make sure I could get the whole wrapping done before the blood left her fingers for good.

The thin plastic cling was wrapped tight around her chest, so tight that she ended up appearing flat chested which amused me greatly. At first she didn’t seem to understand that I was just trying to pull tight — likely trying to be helpful again — and kept moving into me. Eventually we got it sorted out so she would provide some resistance. As I wrapped lower down her torso I ran into a problem I’ve never had before: hips. Because her body isn’t the same rectangular shape as a man’s, I had some trouble getting the cling to go the way I wanted to. Unfortunately this was not a flawless wrap; I tore the saran wrap near the hip bone that I like to gnaw on. I just picked up where I left off though and managed to make my way around her hips and over her small ass. My fingers may have slipped between her thighs for a moment before I positioned her with her legs crossed and pressed together. I was trying to avoid the sloppy bottom problem I had in my last wrapping. I didn’t think her stance was going to be wide enough to try the figure 8 idea I’d had for Devin, so instead I made her my little mermaid.

The cling was completed just above her ankles and I stood back to admire my work. She was beautiful wrapped up like that, preserved, and I touched her through the cling. She was ever responsive, just like I like her. The duct tape taunted me though. It looked so good around her wrists. The last time I tried duct tape I didn’t have nearly enough. But it was a designer color, it didn’t have as much on it. I wasn’t sure I was going to have enough time. I didn’t want to rush this. I wanted to pour my energy into it, wrap everything up around her, let her feel that as her first mummification. I wanted her to know my touch, let her know how much I enjoyed this, how I enjoyed turning her into a beautiful object that stood near my computer, hung from my ceiling, just for me. Before I could put too much more thought into it, I tore the tape away from the roll and pressed it across her chest. I remembered that I had a bad habit of pulling the tape much tighter than need be and relaxed, let it go easy, walked around her, admiring her form as I did. The first few stripes of silver weren’t satisfactory but eventually I got the hang of it, right up until we got to the hips again. There was some doctoring in the end but at the moment I was having fun.

I wrapped around her breasts, around her belly, around her ass, around her thighs. I knelt beside her, my hand upon her leg, and taunted about how this was a beautiful dress and that I ought to send her out in it sometime. Perhaps. It would be extraordinarily fun to try to watch her serve and function with such limited movement. I continued to wrap her thighs together, her knees together, her calves together, and finally her ankles. Then I took a step back to admire my work. Then came the camera. Our favorite hat, the one my cuck bought for me, went atop her head. I think she’s more well-known for wearing it than me, but I’m fine by that. We pulled it down into her eyes to try to shield her face some, but also because it looked adorable that way. I tried to get as many good pictures of the whole thing as I could but really it was her face that I was focusing on.

Finally I put the camera away. A question that Rebecca had asked me was ‘What do you do when they’re all wrapped up? It has to get boring after a while.’ She had a point. What did I do with someone in mummification. With men, I could keep their genitals exposed and perform some CBT. I don’t exactly have that option here. It didn’t matter though. I traced my fingers over her chest and started punching. When she made the faces and sounds I was used to, I knew that I was where I wanted to be. I touched against her bare skin, what little of it she had, and kissed across her neck. I slid up behind her, wrapped my arms around her, and sunk my teeth into her shoulder. I pressed kisses against her jaw. I tangled my fingers in her hair, jerked her head back, and planted a kiss on her mouth. I watched her turn floppy, try to wriggle against me, and just generally float around. I spanked her, I flicked her, I touched her to see if she could feel me through that duct tape dress of hers. I knew I was going to have to cut her down soon though.

I stood in front of her and we kissed. We kissed and we kissed. Before her, I didn’t really kiss. The joy of kissing was taught to me by someone special, someone that taught me that there are people who can kiss the way I like to kiss. I’m working on teaching junk the way I like to kiss and she’s adapting well. I let my fingers travel over her bound body. I admired the new curves and twists I created by the way I mummified her. Then, I reached up and snipped the tape that held her to her bar and helped her lower her arms. I moved around to the back of her and slid the cool scissors between her warm skin and the plastic cling. I clipped through the duct tape and blew air on the slick, exposed skin. In time, her entire body was revealed to me again.

From there I took her to the couch. We turned on a television program that any nerd can enjoy and we cuddled. She was curled up against me and before I knew it, I’d found my fingers wandering around her body. Not innocently, not at her hips or her collar bone. Not where I’d normally pinch to leave a bruise for her to admire later. The insides of her thighs. The curve of her ass. I couldn’t help myself. I wanted her. In the end, I didn’t take my pleasure in any form other than hers. She’d been without an orgasm for so long and it looked as though that might change. With my fingers probing her and her rubbing against me, with our mouths meeting for kisses and licks, with the sounds she was making it seemed more likely to happen than not. This time she didn’t rub against me. This time, she showed me the way that she liked to be touched and I watched her eagerly. I was happy to assist. When her pleasure finally came, it was almost as though I could feel the wave of relief wash over her as well.

When she was sent away to wash up, I slipped a present under the blanket she’d been curled under to keep warm. I think she liked it. At the core, she can be a very silly little girl, and that’s something that I absolutely adore about her, it’s something I intend to fuel. For most of the time, she’s busy trying to learn me, trying to learn my rules, trying to learn how to please me, trying to maintain a pleasant disposition, trying to keep everything together. I want to be able to give her moments of selfish happiness, give her the toys that others might think are silly, hold her close and give her some of the comfort that she provides me, return some of the pleasure she grants me, and share the joy of a D/s relationship that couldn’t be done without her at all.

Search Terms

This has to be one of my favorite things about WordPress: search terms. A lot of people that turn up at my journal are using some very fun search terms. Some of the time I feel bad because I doubt I have posts that match what they’re looking for. Sometimes, I just haven’t put that kind of material into a journal post before. I thought maybe I would do a quick post about the things that people are looking for and whether or not they can be found here in my blog.

feminized while tied up – No, I wish. I did have a fantastic fantasy about doing something like this with dil. For each of my pets, I’ve chosen a color that I think goes with them rather well. For him, it was purple. For the last while that we were together, I was rubbing out orgasm after orgasm while thinking about him appearing as a female, bound in purple rope, and gagged. I threw him over the arm of my couch, strapped one on, and went to town on his ass. Unfortunately this fantasy never came to fruition. Someday I plan to enact this with someone though.

fetlife gender queer  - I am on Fetlife, under this name. I am not listed as Gender Queer because I don’t know that I identify strongly enough with that to make that kind of proclamation on a site where there are genuinely gender queer folk that I look up to and respect. Gender Queer is definitely a term I use in describing myself in my blog though, because of the confusion that I’ve had expressing both my feminine and masculine sides.

mummification orgasm – Why would I give them an orgasm? Mummification is great fun though. I have done a few in the recent past. Try clicking the words ‘saran wrap’ or ‘mummification’ in my tag cloud to the immediate right.

“my husband” “i own his cock” chastity – My husband is the one person that I never played with! I did own a cock once upon a time — it belonged to Devin. I did chastity for a while with him as well, and have done chastity with every pet I’ve had, although Devin was the only one I got to put in an actual device. Check back soon for a few tales about Sergie and some long distance chastity, complete with a device!

despite the intense stimulation he knew he would not be permitted to cum – He sure hoped though.

lingerie store humiliation – I did take Joey to a sex shop on our first date (yes, I am that kind of woman). We bought some stockings but I let him come to my house to try them on. On a subsequent visit, I had him take a few skirts into the changing room and try them on. Was he humiliated? Pretty sure he was! These are things that I find pretty ordinary though, so I didn’t think much of it until I saw how red in the face he was when I had to ask a store clerk to open the door for him.

“second+life”+feminization – This one’s fun because I did play in Second Life for quite some time. It’s actually where I met my first pet Lin and my pup Kayn. Lin was feminized to some degree and now, in retrospect, I’m pretty sure we engaged in some little play as well. To me it didn’t seem much like feminization at the time because he was simply so feminine. I think of feminization more like when I take a very masculine person and have them go through the motions of being a woman. That kind of thing with Lin was simply natural. There probably aren’t a lot of stories about that in this blog, but feminization was a very big part of the kinds of relationships I sought and that’s only recently changed.

keeping my boy under chastity – Chastity may very well be my biggest fetish right now. A lot of my fantasies revolve around it. I plan out quite a few scenes that have chastity playing an integral part in it. I got to play around with it for a while and now I’m hooked like crack. I do hope that it can someday be a part of my relationships again but for right now, I’m told I should just let things run their course and see where they take me. (Besides, there’s always Sergie who’s dumb sweet enough to play with me, even long distance!)

Akalashi - This is probably the term that brings the most people to my blog. I like to think that if you know my name, you have some idea of who I am and you’re just trying to stalk me. That’s cool. I like stalkers. But if you’re curious about who I am, want more information, or just want to drop me a line, you can find me on Fetlife or you can just use my email address, listed in my About Me page. Or just leave a comment, let me know that you’re stalking me. That’s awesome too.

As an aside, November is National Novel Writing Month. I’m hoping to participate this year (and succeed!) and so some posts may be slow throughout the month. If anyone reading is also participating, feel free to leave a comment and we can cheer each other on. Go NaNo!

Mummification

Tuesday night was all about the want. From the time I got home, I couldn’t stop talking about how much I wanted him. I think of him often, and in thinking of him it is usually planning a scene or trying to find some new way to manipulate his body that he might enjoy, but rarely am I think in pure terms of sex. Sometimes I think that talking in that way throws him off guard as well, since the first month of our relationship revolved around me telling him that he may never get to be with a woman again, that he may never know an orgasm again, that he may very well never see the cock he once owned ever again, because I would have it locked away in a steel device and only I would have a key to release him. Perhaps this mindfuck alone would have been tolerable once he got to know me better, but there was this one tiny little fact that he had planted in his head early, early on: I hadn’t had intercourse in literal years.

Maybe I’ll drag you through the door by tie and kiss and strip you down before you can say hello. I’ll press you against the small space by the couch and fasten your cuffs around your wrists. Then I’ll push them up and padlock them around the banister of the railing and leave you like that. It gives me all of your body to play with, where I can touch every part that I want.

Maybe I’ll take you into the house and have you remove all of your clothing before I chain you to the leash hanging from the bar above my computer. I can wrap you completely, let you feel what saran wrap feels like around your body. Once trapped, I can do all sorts of things to you. A plug in your ass, clothespins on your cock, and maybe if I’m feeling extra devilish, I’ll even put you in my mouth. It’s not like you could do anything about it, being all wrapped up, and I hear you can’t even get hard wearing a plug.

Or maybe I’ll just greet you with a kiss, slowly remove all of your clothing from your body, and guide you to the couch. I’ll put a hood on you so you can’t see, I’ll tease your body endlessly, and finally I’ll put you inside of me and see how long you can last while I simply ride you, taking my pleasure from you.

I’d seen plenty of him in the past couple of weeks. We had many times out together where we got to spend lots of hours touching, kissing, sharing more vanilla interests. There was always talk of kink, of chastity, little puns and double entendre in our conversation. But there had been no time to set up a scene. There had been no time and really get naked and be pressed up against him. There had been no orgasms shared (or denied) with him and that was what was getting to me that day.

When he arrived, I wasn’t quite ready. It really shouldn’t have made a difference, being that I knew I was going to be out of the particular articles of clothing soon that I was working my way into when the knock on the door came. I let him in, let him get settled, and finished up what I was doing. The toy bag, the spreader bars, and the boots he’d spoken of before were the first things that I noticed. Little surprises like that always make me smile. I gave him mere seconds after my being ready to strip down, so that I could have a good look at his body.

The great thing about him is that he is a naturally good looking man. His eyes are mysterious but always full of love and laughter. His smile is infectious and one of the first reasons I was drawn to him. He stands taller than I do, which I suppose most women would like, although I’ve found that it’s become less and less important to me over the years, yet it’s something that I do enjoy when I have it. There are lines all around his face that show that he knows what happiness is. There’s silver in his hair that says he’s got the experience that I wanted, at least in some regards. There are the scars on his body that say that he’s not everything someone might think he is at first glance. They provide texture and stories, pleasure and handles, terrain and guidance for where and how I want to play. His body is as interesting as I find him, which makes him incredibly attractive to me. Oh, and there’s just one thing more: he’s incredibly sensitive to touch.

As he removes his shirt, I run my nails down his chest. When he removes his undershirt, I step around behind him, press my fingers deep into the scars he has, my favorite place to play. When he has to bend over to remove his shoes and socks, I naturally go to play with his ass. When he’s down to just his underwear, my fingers find their way into the band of elastic. When he’s finally naked in front of me, I can’t help but to touch his cock — it used to be mine. We were very close. Someday I like to think that he’ll understand the pain of separation we’re suffering and reunite us. For now, visitation is very welcome.

I take him by the hand and lead him to the thick beam that separates my kitchen and my living room. There is no real reason for this beam to be here but it comes complete with a few hooks and a random bar. I suppose someone in the past may have hung flowers from these hooks; tonight I’ll be hanging a boy from them. The handle of a leash was strung over the bar, nestled between the two hooks, so he wouldn’t be able to slip it off if he were able to move at all. There were cuffs around his wrists and cuffs around his ankles and a collar around his neck. These things increase my attraction to him tenfold, because to me they say that he is submissive to me for the time that he is wearing them and because I think they accentuate the flesh so nicely. I attach the lead to the collar and admire the way that the leash dangles down in front of him. I give him a few test spins to ensure that he will be able to accommodate what I need from him later and then it’s time for the hood.

The hood and I got off on the wrong foot at the beginning of the relationship. I saw pictures of him in it and didn’t much care for how it looked. I have played with hoods before, but they were introduced fairly late into the relationship where objectification was much more acceptable to me. Because he was only supposed to be a chastity pet in the beginning, I didn’t fantasize about him in any regard, and objectifying him almost felt disrespectful because of that. Aside from that, I didn’t think the hood fit quite right. It isn’t the most aesthetically pleasing hood in the world. After knowing him better, I can see where the colors are perfect for him now. After putting it on him myself and watching the way that he kind of melts into a ball of sensation, I’ve come to appreciate the hood. After some vague discussion and vaguer negotiations, I have talked to him about scenting the hood as well, so that it can be something that we can share in a way, which has made it all the more appealing to me. Truthfully, even if it looked worse or did its job worse than what it does, I would probably still have come to like it, simply because of the way it lets him escape when it’s on. I worried about the necessity of the hood in the beginning; now I’m trying to figure out how to get a hood in any place we’d ever want to play, just to ensure we have one for him to wear.

The hood was slipped on, laced up, and I began my touching. Over his shoulders, over his scars, down his ass. Around to the front of him, his chest, over his nipples, his throat. I put my hand on his stomach, where it fits perfectly and belongs, and teased the tip of my fingers over his soft cock. Why the boy told me earlier that CBT was “okay” is beyond me, but I’m glad he did. I went to fasten his wrists behind his back, because that’s something we both enjoy, but the cuffs weren’t lining up right and I didn’t want to force his shoulders too far out of the way to get them clipped together when I hadn’t done any proper relaxation for him. He was disappointed but I enjoyed making him hold his arms behind his back of his own will all the same. I pulled up a chair, got comfortable, and pulled out one of my favorite toys: the pinwheel.

From over his shoulder, down his chest, skating perilously close to a nipple, down his belly, and around his cock I run the spokes of metal. Inside his thigh, around his hip, over his stomach, up his chest, curving over his throat I return. Each path creates a different movement or sound from him. Eventually I draw my circles on his body tighter, honing in on his cock. I’ve been careful when running it over this before, but since the theme of the play is CBT, I figure I might as well warm him up slightly by giving him a good pinwheel over the head of his cock. Slow and steady, not too much pressure, still enough to make him wiggle. Down and around his balls, back to his inner thighs, and by this time I can’t wait any longer. I want to get to the good stuff, at least the good stuff for tonight: the clothespins.

One clothespin goes on and I watch how he reacts. The second goes on right next to it, starting a mild fan pattern on his scrotum. This is one of the things that I like to make best. The next two go on the other side. Then one at a time is added until there’s only room for one more. Starting from the outsides though, the flesh isn’t spread out, isn’t flat like it should be. I know that this one is going to hurt but I clamp it on all the same. He lets me know it hurts, but like a good boy, keeps his arms behind him until I ask for his assistance in holding his cock up out of the way. Clothespins on the shaft are something new, I believe, and while I could manage plenty of them on him, I’ve decided to keep things fairly tame this time around. One, two, three, four clothespins heading up the shaft of his cock, leading right to the head. Every few seconds I flick one here or there. I run my fingers around the fan. I playfully tug at a couple of them, ensuring that they are holding up the way I want them to. Then, I let him point out which one hurts the worst. I figure it was a toss up from the one highest on the shaft of his cock or the one that was squished into the fan. The latter took the prize, so I very, very slowly released pressure from it and watched him dance. The clothespin was discarded to the desk. I flicked some more, touching some more, played around some more and removed the top one from the shaft. The next two came from the scrotum as fast as I could and I watched him suck in his air and make a fuss and I giggled over it for a second before pulling the next two off as slowly as I could. Then came the second from the shaft. The clothespins of the fan had been coming off in pairs, but I wanted to make the fun last, so they came off one by one by one by one, as slowly as I could. Somewhere between them came the third from the shaft. Once the fan had been removed completely, I was left with this one, the only one I had left. I wanted to snatch it off his body without unpinching it but more than that, I wanted to be able to play this game again. I toyed with it, started to pull it away from his body, just to see the give. Had it been on his scrotum I wouldn’t have gotten away from it. The way the clothespin sink into the flesh, clamp down in it, feel like they’re stuck in mud in it, I couldn’t have just eased it away from him the way I was doing with this one. The skin of the cock is so smooth, so thin, so fun. There came a point where I told myself I was going to have to pinch to remove it, but he hadn’t made any indications that it was any worse than any other just yet, so I just kept pulling. Soon enough though, I got my warning. Soon enough, there came a growl. I’d never heard it before and I delighted in it so much that I couldn’t bring myself to take it off nicely. I simply slipped it away from him, held it in my palm, and grinned up at him as his deep growl continued.

Next came the plug that I knew he hadn’t worn in a while. This was something I wanted to have him do on his own, no matter how much fun it may have been to push it inside of him, because I wanted him to have the time to process everything and to go at his own pace. While I had thought his growl was sexy, the sounds he made while forcing this foreign object into his body unprepared and without much practice were absolutely orgasmic. If the boy would simply let me hit him to the level of pain that would produce those sounds again, I could die happy. To know that they can be produced through something like this though only made me think of taking him with a strap-on even more. Had he been in a different position, had it been another situation, I would have pinned him down and fucked him right then. I feared he might stop, he might tell me he couldn’t do it, that we weren’t going to be able to use this at all tonight which would have ruined all my other plans, but he endeavored and while he likely didn’t get much pleasure from it, I absolutely did.

Preparation was over. Now it was time for the real deal, the thing that I wanted him over for in the first place. Arms up was the command and he followed so nicely. I armed myself with a roll of saran wrap and started around his torso. Ideally I would have gotten his shoulders into this wrap as well, but I was going for quick and simple — I just wanted to know if this was something he’d like to do more of, try again in the future, if this was the kind of bondage that he could enjoy. I wrapped his torso not as tightly as I could have, I don’t think, because I was afraid of it being too tight. Halfway through I had him take a deep breath, saw that it was moving just fine, and endeavored to make the wrap tighter from that point on. Once I got his torso wrapped, I had him bring down one arm to wrap into it and then the other. The saran wrap over his ass was amazing. It was wrapped few enough times that it was still perfectly clear and made spanking him all the better. As I got down to his legs, I knew I was going to have some trouble because I couldn’t get the wrap tight enough around his ankles. I should have done each leg individually and will next time, but for what we were doing, I think it turned out just fine.

After he was wrapped, I walked around him. I played with his shoulders which are often sensitive to touch and were left exposed. I smacked his ass and enjoyed that. But that wasn’t really the focus of him being wrapped up. I pulled up my chair and started touching my cock once again. When he’s wrapped, when he can’t speak, when he’s nothing but a toy to me, it can be mine again, at least for the duration. I’d told him before I wanted to know what he tasted like. I didn’t think I was going to find out right now either, but at the very least, I could tease him for a while. I ran my hands up and down the shaft, I pulled him close to my mouth, and eventually I gave a lick along the shaft. I hadn’t done this in years, was never tempted really, but when this is a toy for me, I sometimes want to explore. I did things my way though, ensuring that he wasn’t going to get hard, he wasn’t going to derive full pleasure, he wasn’t going to have any say in what or how I did things, because he couldn’t move, he couldn’t talk, he couldn’t touch.

For a while I only wanted to kiss and touch, maybe drag my tongue along so my breath would accentuate the wetness on his cock. Eventually I slipped him inside of my mouth, sucked him in, rolled my tongue around. I experimented with how much of him I could have in my mouth at once, with motion, with everything I could think of. My hair got in the way and even if he’d had his hands free, I certainly wasn’t going to let him hold it out of the way. That’s too much like a handle, too much like telling me to go harder, deeper — only I get to say things like that. So I snatched up the hat that he’d bought for me when we went out last and flipped it around and added it to a part of the scene. I teased him about it too, asking if it didn’t kill him just a little that he couldn’t see me, couldn’t watch me — that I was wearing the hat that he bought me. The sounds he made indicated that perhaps yes, he wished he could see. When I got more of him in my mouth, when it’d gone on for a while longer, when I was sure he was trying to wriggle around in his wrapping to get me to take more of him in my throat, I laughed a little and told him that I certainly could see where he might wish for me to just hold still, for him to be able to push himself deeper into my mouth, to just give him two minutes to get his fill. I think I might have been right on that one too. The plug helped to ensure he was never going to get his fill.

When I was done playing with him, I started to unwrap him. He may have started to let go, but he didn’t get far. He was standing, after all. Next time, I think I’ll have him on the floor. I made a few cuts in the saran wrap and slowly unwrapped him. I wanted the cool air from the fan above us to hit against his wet skin section after section instead of all at once. I wanted to do it layer after layer, but that would probably be asking too much. It didn’t take long, but it took long enough for me to enjoy it. I’d like to find a way to play with him as I was unwrapping him as well, which I’ll incorporate into the next scene as well.

Once he was completely unwrapped, once he was unhooded, once he was unplugged, I gave him his water, took him to the couch, and pulled him into me so that I could run my fingers through his hair, down his shoulders, over his back. I held him close and kissed the top of his head while he continued to float. I could feel his heart beat, feel the slickness of his skin, and matched his breathing. There is nothing more rewarding after a scene than knowing that some satisfaction had been achieved.

Wrapping Things Up

 

After our last talk about wanting to include higher protocols and how to proceed with these dreams of ours, I felt a very subtle shift occur. It didn’t happen instantaneously but rather throughout the week. We were unable to get together much because he was on call and during those weeks it’s rare that we can actually go out and do anything without imposing on anyone else, so we kept in touch via instant messenger, our first form of communication besides the emails we were exchanging when we were still just two people using CollarMe in attempt to make a connection.

Thursday night his tone was coming across much better, as much as can be told via an instant messenger. Luckily he usually comes across true to himself there. Perhaps a little more adorable and a touch more silly, but all in all it’s the same things I’d expect for him to say if he were right in front of me. Yes Miss and No Miss and May I please Miss peppered the conversation just as they should have been weeks before. Somewhere along the lines they got lost and because I was afraid of putting more stress on my boy, I let them slide. We’ve both realized our mistakes in that.

My biggest fear is that I’ll ask too much of him, he’ll balk, and he’ll run away. This is very reminiscent of my prior relationship, the one with all the D/s overtones in it. I knew in the back of my mind that coddling him was not the answer, but I didn’t want to become a problem. So many times I’ve heard about how a submissive man wants their Domme to be ‘that woman’, the sort of woman that other men wonder why they’re with them, or why they love them, because they seem to be overbearing and controlling. However, in this case, he dated that woman for many years prior to meeting me. He’d already been through that and since he’s now with me, I’m sure it’s easy to see that it didn’t last.

Of course I’m intelligent enough to realize that it was not the same. He didn’t feel loved. He didn’t feel desired. Maybe he didn’t feel as though his efforts were being recognized. Some of this is speculation and a lot of this really doesn’t have much of an effect on the relationship at this point. In the beginning moreso, but now it’s ancient history in my world. I think less and less of the pasts we had without one another and more and more of the future we’re creating together. I know that I’m not the same and at the very base of our relationship is a mutual affection, mutual trust, and mutual respect. We built on top of that, and we communicate regularly. I’m certain that if any of those things change, we’ll let the other know.

So I knew I had to get over that and no one but me could do it. I’ve been working on it. I’d been trying, then stopped trying for a little bit, and then I missed the training. I missed feeling free to ask him to do whatever and expecting to actually have it done. I was tired of allowing things that wouldn’t have slid by if I’d actually enforced my own rules. This was my own mistake. It wasn’t as though he was completely out of line either. It’s not as though every rule we ever made was broken time and time again and I just allowed it. It was just the more subtle parts of our relationship that really fuel the whole thing. Saying ‘Miss’ all the time. Making sure that I eat before he does. Anticipating what I need. Attending to me first, him second. Those sorts of things.

By Friday when he came to my doorstep, I was actually holding my breath. I was wondering if we could actually pull it all together in just a matter of days or if we were going to end up with another night similar to Monday, which is a night I’d rather not ever relive, for various reasons. When I opened the door and saw him smiling, I figured we were in for a good weekend, and I wasn’t disappointed.

Dinner came first. A new rule was being tested. I’ve always wanted to have more control of him, but I want it in limited doses first. The first step in this direction was making sure that he never ate before anyone else, with the exception being if he got a salad and no one else at the table was going to have one. In that case, it was best just to lean over and ask me very quietly if it was alright that he ate. Something else that I’ve wanted to do was to choose his food for him. However, he has particular likes and dislikes and while I know them, I don’t trust myself to always remember them. I don’t mind making him eat something he doesn’t like every now and again, but if we’re going to go out for dinner, I’d rather him actually eat than not. To sort of transition myself, he’s now made to choose three meals he’d enjoy eating and I pick which of the three he’ll have. Sometimes for amusement I feed him from my plate, which typically has plenty of things he doesn’t like on it. There’s something about the way he looks at me, as if to ask if he really has to before he takes a bite that gets me. I love it.

After that it was to Target! I needed some household things. Saran Wrap and duct tape to be exact. I pranced through the store saying those two things over and over, watching him blush. We found some fascinating containers that I think are supposed to go under the bed that looked to be about his size, so I pulled one off the shelf and waited for him to climb in. He got really shy for a moment and then stepped into it, only to find that it wasn’t going to be deep enough. Oh well. We already know he’ll have a cage someday. We just figure we ought to get one for the animal that really needs one first, then for the boy that only dreams of them.

We also picked up pillowcases, just for fun.

When we got home, I decided that I wanted to try this mummification idea that I’d had for a while. It was mostly for play, not really for anything hot or wonderful. I had him strip down and stand in front of me while I saran wrapped his entire body, except his cock, so that I could play with it. From his neck down to his ankles, with his leather restraints on and blue (teal?) duct tape holding it all in place. I let him stand next to the couch. He made a fine sculpture. I especially liked when he got very warm and I could see the slick skin beneath the taut wrap. Additionally, watching his cock leak was very appealing.

After a while of that, I cut a little hole on each side of him and told him that if he could get it off, he could be done. So I watched him squirm and struggle and plead with me playfully to help. I didn’t for a while, but eventually made a few more cuts (including the slightest graze against his leg, which I laughed about a little later on). All in all he did really well and he seemed to enjoy himself.

That night we spent some time in bed, both talking and playing. The bedroom stuff is always fun because while it’s not all that kinky or BDSM’y, I do get to use him for whatever purpose I want. Typically I have him go down on me and I thoroughly enjoy that. Sometimes he’s on top so I can feel him rub against me. We very rarely have sex, which is just the way I like it. Tonight I wanted something a little different for my second, third, whatever number orgasm it was and told him to put on his pink and black skirt. I don’t know what it is about this particular skirt of his, but it gets my blood flowing. It’s so very tight that I can see his cock outlined in the front of it. It’s also very sweet looking though, and is made to be worn with stockings which we will eventually get for him.

Once he climbed back into bed with me, I beckoned him on top of me. Like the sweet little girl he can be though, he positioned himself over one of my legs so he could rub himself against me, or so that I couldn’t feel his cock. He sprinkled very light kisses on my neck and was just so feminine that I couldn’t help myself and stroked up his thigh and over his ass and pulled him onto me so I could rub myself silly.

Saturday morning was a fine morning to sleep in. When we eventually got up, we went to get a very nice lunch and then we watched some television together before he had to go to work, leaving me home to watch my shows and play World of Warcraft by myself. He crawled into bed with me somewhere in the early hours of the morning and we slept right through until lunchtime Sunday.

Finally, it was off to see a puppy agility class! The three of us have decided to get a puppy! Or rather, I decided, j didn’t have a choice, and the two of us convinced my husband that this was a good idea. My husband will never let on that he thinks the puppy is adorable and is surely as excited as we are about his arrival. Surely.

Sunday night brought another burst of quick fun before I headed home for another week of work. We were watching baseball and because we had the absolute worst commentators ever, I decided to spice things up a bit. I opened up the pillowcases we bought, put one over his head, and then used his collar to fasten it on. Then I draped him over ‘the cube’ (which is a footstool) and swatted his ass quite happily with a paddle. For quite some time. With quite a bit of force. We’re finally getting closer and closer to where I want to be in terms of hurting him. We do less warm-ups now, which is something I really like, and I can hit him harder without worrying about breaking him. By the time his ass was nice and red, the game was almost over, so I had him flip over and play with himself for a bit. We removed his ‘hood’ and then he played for a little bit longer and asked me ever so sweetly if we might put a lock on his collar someday.

Someday.

Someday I intend to put some form of permanent collar around his neck and then he won’t have to worry about simple padlocks.

Once home, I smiled a bit as I saw a ton of our furniture stacked up in front of the front door. My husband and I are wrapping up this chapter in our lives, getting out of our house, and moving somewhere that’s more afforadable and in a nicer neighborhood. We’re growing up a bit you see. Instead of taking the traditional route, we’ve opted for slaves and pets and little furchildren. I can’t wait to see what comes next.

 

 

All Wrapped Up

 

 

 

Dripping Cum

Naked

One of my favorite rules that I’ve put in place for j is that when we’re home alone together (and when he’s home alone anytime) he’s to be naked. Oh, years ago I could talk to all my girlfriends about how I appreciate the female form so much more than the male form, how there’s not so much attractive about them, and while I’ll still admit that I find women absolutely beautiful, I’ve come to discover that men can be beautiful as well.

But then there’s something else as well, a conversation my husband and I have had time and again over the decade we’ve been together. We both suscribe to the idea that the more you love someone, the more attractive they are to you. I’m certainly no supermodel, but I have no doubts that my husband finds me attractive. The same goes for my husband, except that a lot of people find him attractive (he just doesn’t realize it) and the same goes for j.

We’ve talked a little about his physical appearance. He has one or two things he’d like to change about himself, but I’m so used to his body and appreciate it as it is that it wouldn’t matter much if he changed it at all. One of the things that we’ve talked about is how he’s not symmetrical, but how it’s hardly noticeable at this point, just because I see him without clothes so much of the time.

The one really fantastically great thing about boys being naked is that their arousal is so evident. I can lose minutes and hours just watching the different forms that the cock can take, from being relaxed to being erect to when it’s suffering from pain or slowing creeping away after an orgasm. It’s almost like cock lust except for not. I don’t necessarily want to be doing anything to it, I just want to watch it.

The other day he was kneeling in front of me and he pushed himself right into my lap and wrapped his arms around me for a hug. I hugged him back for a second but then went to tickle him. I wrapped my legs around his and held him in place so that he could squirm all he wanted but it wouldn’t really stop me. When I let him go and he moved over to grab something, it was obvious to see that he was aroused. I asked if it was the tickling, trying ever so hard to remember if that had been something he’d had on his like list on the profile that I stared at obsessively the first months that I knew him and he just shook his head. Then I remembered his fascination with bondage and asked if it was that I had been holding him, and he nodded.

Later in the night, after we’d gone to bed, we often lay awake (or not so awake) talking and should the urge hit me to have an orgasm before I drift off completely, I’ll typically find some way to use him, either by having him service me orally or by pulling him on top of me and directing him to rub himself against my clit so I can get off. Pretty much anything that doesn’t take too much effort on my part so that I can orgasm and then drift off right away. He’s really good at just curling up at my side and not demanding a thing of me afterwards, so it works out nicely.

Another option though, if I’m in the mood for it, is to just use him. Typically, because I don’t bother to undress for anything like this since it’s just rubbing our bodies together, I roll him over and then I can rub up against his ass. It’s kind of nice to imagine penetrating him and making him squeal, but we’re not far enough along yet that I could slip something up in there without hurting him beyond what either of us would find pleasurable. Plus, it’s a lot of work for pre-sleep orgasm. So I just rub away until I orgasm, he gets to feel something rubbing against his ass, and we call it a night.

The final alternative is for me to actually pin him and rub against his cock, which I’d say happens the least of all these things. It takes some fantastic positioning and again, work. But the position usually requires his arms above his head so that he’s not touching me and I’m always keen on that. This time, I clipped his wrist restraints to the headboard and clipped his ankles together as well, and then just wrapped myself around him as much as I could before I set out for my orgasm. When I was done, he commented that that was the tightest I’d ever held him. I had to agree.

Ever since then, I’ve put more and more thought into bondage. I don’t like the ropes so much, except to just admire the sight of them on his naked body. I like chains but he doesn’t, but his dislike for them isn’t enough to sway me from doing something I’d really enjoy. I just don’t know that I’d enjoy it that much. What usually comes to mind is saran wrap. I like the idea of just wrapping up his whole body, except his cock and his mouth.

Today I went a little further with it. I toyed with the idea of tape. I like it because hey, it hurts coming off too. I also like that it’ll hurt even more if he hasn’t shaved like he’s supposed to. I like that he could struggle against it even more and probably break less of it. I like the way it looks in my head, especially paired with his leather restraints and collar. I like the idea of tape and saran wrap. I worry ridiculously about the ill side effects of saran wrap trapping moisture between it and his skin and making his skin problem worse. I don’t think it’d be a measurable difference in just one session anyhow.

But what really tripped it from idea to arousing for me was pairing it with a hood.

I’ve read that a lot of people find it easier to do objectification if their slave is wearing a hood because then the humanity issue is gone. They’re an object and not a person so much. For me I think it’d help because I put so much stock in his facial expressions. They might not even accurately portray what he’s feeling but for whatever reason, they seem to trump the energy that I’m feeling from him and the sounds that he’s making. I know a ‘I need to breathe now’ sound from a whimper that he has to let out because he’s enduring something for me and enjoying (and also not enjoying) himself while doing it.

Then there’s also just the fact that hoods are hot. I want to play with one just to see what kind of transformation can be made and if it goes well (I don’t know how it wouldn’t) I’d love to upgrade to a leather hood. I know exactly the one I want for him too because I’ve been lusting after it for years.

Finally, since I seemed to leave off on such a sour note in my last entry, and while I certainly don’t take back anything of what I’ve said so far, it needs to be noted that there are plenty of areas in live where I can absolutely regard him as a slave and not just a submissive.

Amusingly enough, as opposite as it may be, he’s a great deal better at doing life tasks for me than the sexual ones that I’d mentioned previously. I cherish those above anything else, being that a slave’s priority in life is to make my life easier. Today he was able to send out a payment that I could not have possibly done in my schedule to ensure and those sorts of things are by far more important than a lot of other things I’ve talked about.

For right now, I’m rather happy where I am. We have a lot of changes coming up in the next two weeks and a lot of excitement. After things settle again, then it’ll be a great time to put into practice these ideas of higher protocols we both seem to enjoy the idea of.

Until then….