slaveboy in Marital bliss

Sexy fake ad in W magazine

2011-10-18T08:35:00.000-07:00

Just a quick article to point out a very very sexy fake advertisement.

Here is a link to it.

Love and warm regards.

Enjoy.

Sorry for the late updates

2011-02-05T16:59:00.000-08:00

Wow. Another few month gap. Sorry everyone, for my inconsistent updates, but it has been very very busy around Mistress Laura's home. She has had me doing some much needed house projects that took up nearly all of my time, especially during and in the month following the year-end vacation between Christmas and New Year's.

The Halloween party didn't happen. Mistress Laura came down with a migraine that evening and we just stayed home. We were both a bit disappointed, but it was okay.

Since then, we also had Thanksgiving (with her family) and Christmas (with friends and relatives who came and stayed with us). Christmas was interesting, since one of her friends noticed how I was doing all the serving and cooking and how she was mostly doing the relaxing and chatting and commented that “Thomas seems to be the stereotypical house-wife around here.”

I'm still perpetually horny. Mistress's pattern has been to have me give her nightly footrubs, a few massages a week, and a few orgasms per week. She lets me come about twice a month, usually humping the floor while kissing her feet, or in some other equally humiliating way.

My next post will be a fantasy of mine that Mistress has been having fun encouraging and having me recount to her in great detail. I am very embarrassed to share it, but I will.

Two months later... and Happy Halloween!

2010-10-31T14:34:00.000-07:00

It's been two months and I have been kept continually horny. It's all my own fault, too.

Her routine for me has evolved over the last two months, and her rules have been more strictly enforced.

Some background so that this makes a bit more sense: She has told me that she has been really enjoying being in control in our marriage and will be continuing to play and exert more control on me. To that end, she will, on average, let me come once a week, but only if I am very very obedient. She has a calendar in her office, with a little girlie fairy sticker that she puts on the day that she might let me have a release; the image makes her smile, especially since she often likes to have me in ponytails and flimsy dresses.

Anyway, back to her new strictly enforced rules...

First rule: every time I mention or hint at wanting sex, she just tells me that “That is entirely up to me. I know you always want it, and now it will be at least a week longer before I let you come.” and the little sticker gets moved on the calendar. I can tell her I am horny, when she asks a direct question about it, but otherwise, my focus is to be on her pleasure. This rule came out of a bit of whining that I did at the end of that last weekend I wrote about in August. She was annoyed at first and instituted this rule so that I might truly know who is in control.

Second rule: Every day, when I get home in the late afternoon, I must immediately strip off my clothes and find Mistress Laura, kiss her feet and wait for her to tell me what we are doing that evening. When I delay in doing that, she adds a few days to my next orgasm date. This has been the source of a few deferrals.

Third rule: When I am home, unless I am working on something that is not interruptible (which if I am, I must inform her before hand), I must immediately drop whatever it is I am doing and do what she asks with a good attitude. On an average night, this might be something simple like “Get me a soda, slaveboy,” or something like “Come here and rub my feet.” As with the previous standing order, if I delay in responding, the sticker gets moved out a day or two on the calendar.

I have learned to be more and more meticulous with following Mistress's orders, and yet, I was screwing up a few times a week. After a few weeks of having my orgasm-date moved, I was getting more and more and more frustrated, and downright cranky.

One night a few weeks ago, I was especially frustrated. She had used my mouth to have an orgasm, then had me kneel in the bathroom and watch her as she showered and used the shower-head to give herself another orgasm, then had sent me away to cook and clean.

At some point later on in the evening, Mistress ordered: “Get me some water in a glass, slaveboy,” and I responded with a sigh and “Ok.” as I slumped off to get her the glass of water. She waited about fifteen minutes and repeated the order, “Thomas, my boy, get me some more water.” and I got up and got the water. I saw her looking at me when I came back this time, her eye trained on my limp cock for a second. She told me to kneel, which I did, but my heart and head were not really in it.

She drank the water slowly, studying me as I knelt in front of her, my cock limp, deliberately not feeling anything.

“Touch yourself.” her command was a jolt to my system and I started slowly touching my cock, making it hard.

“Now stop.” and she leaned down and lightly brushed the tip of her finger on the nape of my neck. I moaned. Her touch felt so good. Amazingly, it felt better to have her finger trail my skin than rubbing my own cock.

“Feels good, doesn't it?” she then leaned further down and cupped my balls for a second and ran her fingernails along my shaft, all the way to the tip, causing me to gasp in pleasure. She stopped suddenly again, leaving me breathless for a second.

“Kiss my feet, then sit back and listen,” Mistress Laura commanded and I obeyed.

“I know you are frustrated. I also know that there's nothing really stopping you from masturbating,” she smiled. “But, you know and I know that it feels much much better when you are doing it for me, doesn't it, slaveboy?”

There was no denying it. “Yes, Ma'am.” my face felt flushed.

“So, if you want my nice touches from time to time, and I know you do...” she paused and I nodded my head. “You are going to have to obey me with a good attitude.”

“Yes Ma'am.”

“You should also know that if you were to disobey me and come without my permission at some point, I would definitely know. You don't want to test that.” I didn't doubt it. I would give myself away somehow if I were to try to give myself some relief.

She then started walking towards the bathroom and had me follow her.

“Get in the tub and put your mouth on my pussy.” Mistress Laura slipped off her skirt and panties, put one leg over onto the other side of the tub and braced her hands on the wall as I knelt in the tub, my lips against her pussy, smelling her, my cock throbbing hard.

Then I felt the warm liquid wash over my lips and fill my nose. Her piss flowed all the way down my chest and onto my hard cock. It was gross and intoxicating at the same time. I felt shamed, humiliated and so turned on by her.

“Lick me clean, slaveboy.” I did as she told me, before she turned on the shower and washed herself quickly, and patted herself dry. She then left me in the bathroom to shower and go on with the rest of my work that evening.

So, that is how it has been. I have been very very good the last week or so, obeying all of Mistress's commands, remembering to strip and come find her quickly every day, and having my mouth and tongue used at least every other day (sometimes after a hard spanking, because it makes her wet to torture me).

The sticker is on today, Sunday, October 31st.

Mistress is taking me to a kinky Halloween party tonight, cross-dressing me in a slutty red dress and high heels, wearing a collar, with her holding the attached leash. I'm not sure if I'm going to be allowed a release at any point, but I do know that it is entirely up to Mistress.

I am very very horny and very much looking forward to any fun we might have.

Happy Halloween, everyone.

I'm still here. Still being used deliciously by Mistress Laura.

2010-08-27T19:01:00.000-07:00

Hello everyone. It's been forever since I've posted. I have no excuse other than being busy with life and new assignments at work. Today was an off day from work for me, and Mistress Laura has been using me all day.

Her playing with me really started last night, when after dinner, she had me shave myself all over real smooth, apply Nair to my ass to get rid of all that hair, too, and get ready for her by inserting the large butt-plug that we have been playing with for a while, then put on the cute red leather collar and come sit at her feet while we watched television.

I didn't really pay much attention to what we were watching, since she had me give her foot rubs or kiss her feet, or get her a drink practically every fifteen minutes or so. As you can imagine, I got more and more turned on every time she told me to go do something for her.

By the end of the evening, before heading to bed, she had me kiss and lick her feet, lying on the carpet on my back, with her sitting on the couch, just to see how much of a hardon I would get. She was especially enjoying pushing the bottom of her foot onto my face and telling me that “I was lucky to be allowed to kiss her feet.”

After a while of that, she told me to stop and show her my hardon.

“Wow. You are so hard, it's almost purple. Does it hurt, baby?” she laughed, and then told me to go and kneel in the bedroom. I went and knelt, my very hard cock throbbing.

When she got to the bedroom, she told me that teasing me has gotten her very wet and that I was going to take care of giving her an orgasm, but that I would not be granted a release.

“Yes, Ma'am,” I said as I climbed on the bed and put my lips on her hairy pussy. All my attention was on giving her pleasure, every breath and every lick brought more of her scent into my awareness, and whatever amount of self control and reason I had left me. I was licking and moaning with the pleasure of giving her pleasure, as she moaned and pulled and pushed me and told me exactly what she needed (“Slower, boy... Good... Lower... Oh that is so good, my boy...”) and soon she was bucking and I was feeling her pussy spasm around the two fingers I had inside her.

“Good boy. Now kiss my feet, go brush your teeth, then come back and kneel at the foot of the bed.”

“Thank you, Mistress,” I said, as I kissed her feet.

A few minutes later, I am kneeling at the foot of the bed.

“Slaveboy, I want the whole bed to myself tonight, so you'll get the sleeping bag and sleep at the foot of the bed, on the floor,” she started to tell me. As I understood her words, my stomach did a flip (I don't know how else to describe the experience) and my cock once again became very erect.

“You have the day off tomorrow, which really means I have you all to myself tomorrow. Set your alarm for 7AM. You'll start the day by giving me a gentle footrub to wake me up, then I might have you lick me again, and then I'm going to have you do a few things that need to be done, starting with running the vacuum through the whole house. You might get lucky this weekend and I might let you come for me.”

About half an hour later, she was sleeping in her large king sized bed, in her cozy pajamas, and I was naked, in a sleeping bag, sleeping at the foot of the bed. I was simultaneously missing her and very happy to be put in my place, literally and figuratively. I don't know if that makes any sense to any of you, but that is how I felt.

This morning, I got to give Mistress Laura a footrub, another orgasm, and have been cleaning the house and cooking, all under her direction. I feel very happy and horny.

She has hinted that if I am good, at the end of the weekend, she might allow me to masturbate while kissing her feet. I hope that happens, but meanwhile, I am frustrated and happy and horny and content, all at the same time, as contradictory as that might seem.

I'll write more about this weekend later, as it develops.

First embarrassing orgasm of the new year

2010-01-08T22:51:00.000-08:00

Mistress Laura likes to use fantasies and stories and hypothetical situations when talking with me. I think it lets her explore mental and emotional territory without any risk, while giving her more insights and control over me. I also know that she gets off on seeing me squirm. :-)

A couple of days ago, I had come home from work, and as is the rule in her house, stripped and knelt before her. She had me kiss her feet and then kneel back up again to get my instructions for the evening. She told me to go vacuum and then come back and kneel again in her office.

I did as I was told, and when I returned to kneel, she was already waiting for me.

“Good boy.” her smile put me at ease.

“Thomas, it's been a while since you've been allowed to come, right?”

“Yes Mistress,” and suddenly my cock is standing at full attention.

“Lay down on the floor right there. That's right. Bring your balls over here. Open your legs.”

I positioned myself as she said, on my back, legs open, her toes brushing my shaved smooth balls and cock. She playfully swung her foot back and forth, tapping my balls hard and causing me to wince a little.

“You know, training a man is a little bit like training a dog. Like when you tell a dog to stay, or heel, or roll over. The words don't really mean anything to the dog till the owner teaches him what it means.” She put the bottom of her foot against my very hard shaft and pressed a little bit.

“I want you to touch yourself. Stroke yourself, but you don't have permission to come.”

I did as she said, stroking myself, trying to keep from stimulating myself too much, since the situation could easily make me go over the edge. Precum was already oozing out of the tip and landing on my belly as I slid my hand up and down.

“You like that. I can see you getting even harder.”

“Yes Ma'am.”

“Okay, good. Now stop.”

I stopped, while moaning. Precum was still oozing out, making my penis and balls slippery and increasing the pleasure of my hand sliding up and down, but I still had to stop.

“Good boy. Now start again. Red rocket. Red rocket.”

I know now that Mistress was referring to this South Park scene, where the boys learn how to "milk a dog."

“Remember, you don't have permission to come now, do you?”

My hand slid effortlessly up and down, lubricated by my own precum. I felt a wave of pleasure, my breathing getting shallower, trying to keep myself under control.

“Now stop again. Come over here and kiss my feet.”

I stopped, happy to focus on something else, scampering around and putting my lips on her feet.

A moment later, “Okay baby. Red rocket.”

I was a little confused for a second. She repeated. “Go on doggie. Red rocket. Red rocket.”

I understood then. I put myself back on the floor on my back, legs spread at her feet, and started stroking myself. The pleasure was almost too much this time.

“Now stop. You don't want to come without permission, do you? That would merit a painful caning.”

The image of being caned for coming without permission almost made me cum, but I also know how painful such a caning can be and stopped myself.

“Good boy.” She smiled and pushed her heel gently into my privates and then continued talking.

“You know, sometime when you come home from work, Susan might be visiting, or some other friends of mine might be here, but if I say "Red Rocket," you know what that means now, right?”

I felt the heat of embarrassment rising in my cheeks. “Mistress, I'm not sure I understand.”

“Yes you do. When you hear me say "Red Rocket," it means get naked, get on your back, and start stroking yourself for me.” She tapped my balls hard and then commanded: “Now. Red Rocket. Red Rocket. Good doggie!”

I was crazed at this point, moaning and touching myself, as she kept talking.

“And no matter what, when I say "Red Rocket," you are going to do it like this, aren't you?”

“Yes Mistress,” My breathing was ragged and I had to slow way down, my slick hand sliding up and down, and the pleasure mixed with the embarrassment and I had a flash of a memory of the last time she caned me. The memory almost sent me over the edge. She sensed my loss of self control.

“You wouldn't want to...” She paused here “come without permission, now, would you? I would really have to hurt you a lot.”

I kept slowing my strokes, but I was getting way too excited.

“I think the other ladies, if they were here watching you, would really find this funny. How you are so horny, waiting for permission, almost going over the edge,” and a sharp tap of pain to my testicles and her tone suddenly became very serious. “Don't you dare cum without my permission!”

It was a heady mix of embarrassment and pleasure and trying to keep it all back, but I started to feel the tip of my cock swell and a deep spasm in my gut and the pleasure washed over me, radiating from my insides. “Oh god, oh god. I'm sorry, Mistress, can I please please have your permission?”

“No! You may not! You're making a mess too.” She swung her leg and tapped my balls hard, causing me to yelp. The pain interrupted the orgasm I was having, but the ejaculation continued and white milky cum oozed all over my stomach and onto her hardwood floor.

“It looks like you're going to have to clean that up. After you do, meet me in the bedroom with the cane.” and she got up and left for the bedroom.

I took a minute to clean up the mess and followed her to the bedroom, where she proceeded to cane my ass for what seemed like a long time (was probably only about 20 minutes) and then to use my mouth for an orgasm.

Since then, Mistress Laura keeps teasing me about having company over and how she's going to enjoy giving me "the code word" and watch me perform. Maybe she will do it at some point, and maybe she won't. I'll probably never know.

Happy New Year, everyone!

2009-12-31T06:01:00.000-08:00

Hi everyone. I haven't posted for a while, but I'm going to be more regular again.

Mistress Laura banned me from blogging and tweeting for a month or so due to my tendency to spend too much time reading blogs, and only gave me back my online time a couple of weeks ago. By then, we were in the middle of the holiday season and I had too much job work and housework and other tasks to post regularly.

During this same time, Mistress threw some parties for family and friends, in which I ended up doing most of the preparation and hosting. It was fun for me and was kind of an extended teasing session to be serving my Mistress and her guests in this discreet fashion. Each party ended with me cleaning up, followed by Mistress taking me to bed, using my mouth to orgasm, followed by going to sleep.

Needless to say, the way that she is so focused on her own pleasure and on using me as she has been makes me feel... so... wonderful, humiliated, sexy... I find myself more and more pliable and emotionally and mentally focused on pleasing her, getting immense satisfaction and feeling loved from such unequal treatment.

Now, it's been over a month since Mistress has granted me a release. At the same time, she has been playing with me and teasing me continually, with little games and reminders that focus me on the erotic feelings that I get from continually serving her.

For example, in the weeks leading up to Christmas, she would run her hands over my hairy legs and say “I don't know if I like these hairy legs. I'll have to decide if I want to have these legs be smooth. It might be a nice sweet look for you.” and she did this for a while, till I started begging her for permission to shave my legs smooth for her. She would always reply with “Not yet baby.”

Then, after Christmas had come and gone, and during my vacation days, she told me to go into the bedroom where I found a card and a cute little dress (the one in the picture). The card read “Dear Thomas, go ahead and shave your legs smooth for me, put on this outfit and come show me. Love, your Mistress.”

I did as I was told, the act of taking off the hair on my legs was amazingly erotic for me, for reasons that I can't quite figure out. I dressed as she had instructed and showed my Mistress wife, who ran her hands over my smooth legs and kept saying things like “Mmmm...Nice and smooth like a little girl... Good girl.”

That evening ended with her taking me into the back bedroom, telling me to get on all fours on top of the bed, flipping the little skirt up and putting a small butt plug in my ass and caning me for a while, because “I feel like doing this. It makes my cunt twitch,” followed by using my mouth for an orgasm.

Afterwards, I lay in her arms, with her spooning me from behind, my ass marked and hurting, while my feelings soared. I was in heaven, enveloped by pain and her softness, feeling so completely accepted and loved that it's hard to put into words.

Mistress whispered in my ear then, “Would you like me to let you come right now, my boy?”

“No Mistress. Only if you want me to.”

“Good boy. We'll see. Maybe I'll let you come after the New Year.”

I wish you all a happy and fulfilling new year. May all your dreams come true in this coming year!

Labor Day Weekend Femdom

2009-09-10T15:23:00.000-07:00

Last Friday night, a few hours before we were going to bed, Mistress Laura handed me four clothespins and told me “One for each nipple, and one for each ball. Do it and have me inspect it.”

I clipped myself as ordered and she flicked each clothespin with her fingers to make sure they were on well enough, then she had me vacuum the guest bedroom and the hallway.

I don't know how many of you know what clothespins feel like. There is pain, of course, but as you go about doing other things, the pain starts to fade into the background, becoming subdued, more like a throbbing or a background hum. And as long as your don't jostle the clothespin, you can basically function.

After I was done with the vacuum, she had me come into the bedroom and fold laundry while she watched. Every once in a while, she would lean over and flick one of the clothespins, smiling at my winces. When the laundry was folded and put away, she had me kneel next to the bed.

“Slaveboy, you're going to be doing a bunch of cleaning this weekend. Starting with my office. Is there anything you need to do this weekend? Let me know so I can make time for it.”

“No Ma'am. I am completely at your service.”

“Great. Well, then,” She got a mischievous look on her face. “Lick my pussy. After I come, I'll remove your clothespins. Don't expect me to let you come this weekend, and no whining!”

“Yes Mistress.” I'm not sure how to explain it, but when Mistress tells me that she's not going to be letting me come for a few days, I actually "enjoy" it. It's a heady sensation and it feels a bit like falling and the base of my stomach tightens in anticipation of something and at the same time, I relax more into the role of slaveboy, her toy, to be used entirely for her pleasure. With these thoughts swimming in my head, I brought my mouth to her pussy.

After a few minutes of licking, Mistress grabbed my hair and smashed my mouth and nose into her pussy, her thighs pressed into the sides of my head, rubbing herself into me and convulsing into a shuddering orgasm. I inhaled deeply of her scent then, with my penis fully erect, precum dribbling from the tip. I am completely addicted to the scent and taste of Mistress Laura; it is a taste and smell that quite literally changes my state of mind, makes me weak in the knees and quite unable to resist anything she wants from me.

“Mmmm... Good boy.” she then grabbed my hard hard cock and gave it a squeeze and without warning, leaned over and detached the two clothespins on my balls, which made me scream in pain. The stinging sharp pain seemed to last for a long time, though it was probably only a few minutes.

“Ready for the nipples?”

“Uh. No, Ma'am.”

“Oh come on. No whining. Lay on the bed. I'll give you something to scream into.” And with that, she tossed me a pillow. I lay on my back, with the pillow over my face, and waited.

And waited. And waited some more. Then, I felt her feathery touch, her fingers dancing up and down my body, caressing the full length of my cock, lightly touching my balls, bringing gasps of pleasure from me, teasing me. This went on for a while, till I was nicely aroused and completely lost in sensation.

When she finally took the clothespins off my nipples, she did them without warning, in quick succession at almost the same time and then proceeded to massage and tweak my very sore nipples, and that hurt so much that I had to push my mouth into the pillow and keep screaming. When she finally stopped, I relaxed my body by effort of will, at which point she gently took the pillow from me and gave me a kiss on the lips.

“Mmmm... Good boy. Hurting you makes my cunt wet.”

After that, we went to bed. Her dressed in her pajamas, and me, naked, hurting, horny, sleeping right next to her.

She was true to her word that weekend. I ended up doing a lot of cooking and cleaning, more than usual, with almost constant teasing and little breaks to “come over here and kiss my feet” or “come massage my shoulders, boy.”

She used my mouth for orgasms every day, while making it clear that she would not let me have a release at all the entire weekend. With each orgasm she took, and with each “No, you may not!” my desire for her and my love for her grew. It's paradoxical, but such is the working of my mind.

Before she sent me to work on Tuesday, she had me kneel on the floor and kiss her feet and told me that she wanted me to continue to be in heat for her all week, and that she would probably let me have an orgasm next weekend, if I am a very very good slaveboy.

“How do I make sure I'm a very very good slaveboy?”

“Simple, baby,” she said, patting the top of my head and messing up my hair. ”Just obey quickly.“

So, that was labor day weekend. My nipples are still a tiny bit sore and she delights in tweaking them every once in a while.

This upcoming weekend she has a list of chores lined up for me, including some simple plumbing repairs. She also let me know that Susan will be visiting at some point and that I am to remain completely nude and subservient even during her visit.

I am a little bit apprehensive about this coming weekend, but mostly in a very submissive mood. Everytime I think about Mistress Laura, I get horny and feel like kneeling.

Hush, slaveboy.

2009-09-01T17:27:00.000-07:00

Hi everyone. Mistress and I went on a few trips this last few weeks, which is why I've been out of contact save for a couple of short messages and tweets.

We took a few four-day weekends (sually Saturday, Sunday, Monday and Tuesday), staying at a hotel in Carmel and another one in Monterey a couple of times. The pattern for these outings is always the same.

I pick the venues and get Mistress's approval, then make the reservations ahead of time. The night before, we do our usual fun stuff (I cook, we eat dinner, watch TV, and then she has me go down on her to an orgasm before she goes to bed).

I pack the car while she sleeps and then join her in bed. I set my alarm to wake me up an hour before we leave so I can wake her with a foot massage and breakfast. Then I make the bed and clean the house a bit more before we take off so that she can come home to a clean house.

When we get to our hotel, I deal with the front lobby and get two sets of room key cards. I deliver one key card to her and I take everything up to the room while she waits somewhere comfortable, usually with a paperback she is reading, then I unpack and put everything out in the room the way she likes it. When everything is set (about 20 minutes), I strip and kneel in the middle of the room and text-message her so she can come up.

When she enters the hotel room, it's the way she has told me to set everything up (all her clothes hung up or put in the drawers, her toys in the bedstand, etc.) Then, we go about relaxing, or rather, I just do whatever I am told, which is truly joyous to me, and very relaxing for her.

Our last trip was a couple of weekends ago and we got back into town last Wednesday. On Thursday and Friday, I was something of a pain in the ass, arguing with Mistress Laura about some pretty trivial stuff. I don't even really know why.

On Friday, when I got back home from work, and went to kneel naked in her office, she turned to me and said:

“My boy, I think you are talking back too much and I want to have a fun weekend this weekend. So, this whole weekend, you are to not speak until I give you permission again. When you need an answer, get your point across by hand signals, and if you can't, write it down.”

I started to say “Yes, Ma'am” and then stopped myself, just nodding.

So, Friday and the whole weekend, my Mistress wife did not speak to me except to tell me what to do. The hours were filled with silence. She even turned off the ringers on the phones, put our cell phones on silent mode, and did not turn on the TV or radio.

She directed me to cook, to clean, and to generally perform the tasks I normally would. The whole time, she relaxed, did paperwork from time to time, read her paperbacks, or just lounged or napped.

After about a day and a half, the silence started to seep into me; to make my own internal dialogue start to quiet down. At the same time, I felt more in tune with Mistress.

Sunday night, after Mistress Laura let me lick her pussy, when she was completely satisfied, she had me kneel at the foot of the bed and put a condom on. Then she sat at the edge of the bed and had me kiss her feet.

“It's been a few weeks since I let you come. Would you like to come for me?”

I nodded.

“Hump the ground, slaveboy. No hands. Make yourself come for me.”

I did as I was told, kissing her feet at the same time. I'm certain I looked completely ridiculous. When I came, she finally said “You may speak again.”

“Thank you, Mistress.”

This period of silence did something interesting to my state of mind. I'm now slightly calmer in the background of my mind and have an interesting experience of myself as separate from my thoughts. I don't know if that makes any sense to anyone, but that is what it is.

A new kink

2009-07-13T15:58:00.001-07:00

A short post for now while I work on a longer post. Over the last few days, Mistress Laura has discovered a new kink of mine.

She knows German and a couple of other languages, and for fun, she started talking to me in German, which I don't understand except for a few words.

The emotional effect on me was somewhat surprising! I was so turned on.

She has to repeat her phrases several times to get simple commands across to me, but I am slowly starting to learn, at least enough to be ordered around in German.

Do any of you have any similar experiences?

The erotic charge of relinquishing my will

2009-07-07T16:19:00.000-07:00

Here are a few recent interactions between myself and Mistress Laura. Starting off with some fairly mundane ones:

We are discussing dinner plans.

Mistress Laura says “Let me know what you think, baby. I am thinking about going to our favourite Thai restaurant again.”

“Mistress, we've gone there so many times lately that I'm starting to get a bit tired of it. Can we go somewhere else?”

“Well, do you have something else to suggest?”

“How about Japanese?”

“Had that at lunch today.” She pauses, then declares “I decided. We are going to the Thai place.”

There's an instant of short lived disappointment, accompanied by a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, and a warm tingling that starts to spread. “As you wish.” I stand up to get dressed so we can go. I have trouble zipping up my jeans because of the very rigid bulge.

The second episode, simpler and more compressed:

I am on the computer, working on something and somewhat absorbed.

“Thomas, come here.”

There's a second of irritation followed almost immediately by that tingling warmth and before I know it, I am headed toward Mistress's office to kneel and find out what she wants.

With respect to household chores, as I stated previously:

I hate scrubbing toilets. However, putting on the yellow gloves and kneeling down and scrubbing the toilet always gives me a rush, produces a very stiff hardon, and empties my mind, giving way to a feeling of calm and relaxation, in spite of (or perhaps because of) hating the task.

And of course, in the bedroom:

“You want to come tonight, baby?”

“Yes Ma'am!”

“How would you like to do it?”

“Inside you, Mistress.” I'm feeling greedy, but about one time in four, she does let me come like that.

“Hmmm... Not tonight, my boy. I want you to put on a condom so you don't make a mess, get on the ground on your stomach and hump the carpet. No hands, but I'll let you kiss my feet while you do it. I know you like that. And, if you beg nicely, I might let you come.”

I start humping the carpet and kissing her feet, feeling small. She is sitting on the bed, wearing a T-shirt and panties, with her bare feet on the ground, and I am licking and kissing her feet and humping the ground. Just comparing what I am doing as opposed to what I wished to be doing heightens the sense of embarrassment which makes me almost go over the edge. But I know better.

“Mistress, may I please come? I am very close. Please, Mistress?”

There's a long pause and I hold myself on the edge. “No, you may not. But seeing you doing that turned me on, baby. Come on up here and eat my pussy.”

And so, I am denied another orgasm, but the delicious humming tingly sexual feeling in my groin now spreads all around my body. I am in a trance as I climb onto the bed and help her out of her panties and start to kiss and lick her to an orgasm.

When I think about these types of interactions, I find it interesting that in almost all other areas of my life, I am very assertive and I get what I want, when I want it, but with my Mistress Wife, I delight in the opposite.

There is an inherent erotic charge from being told what to do and from subverting my own desires in order to please my lovely wife. There is an inherent and (and undeniable, considering my state of undress most of the time) erotic charge in being “forced” to do things that I don't necessarily enjoy because my Mistress wants me to do them.

In these moments, when I am simply following her desires, I don't even mind the missed opportunities for an orgasm; the heady space, the trance state that is like infatuation, but a hundred times more potent, is worth it. I really am here to serve and please her.

Happy 4th of July: lots of domestic and personal service

2009-07-04T09:17:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was a day off of work for me. This meant that I got to get up early, do my Friday workout, shower and shave and then get my Mistress her breakfast. Afterwards, she told me to put on my high heels and frilly apron and come back and kneel at her feet.

I put on the black high heels and the apron (it's a black and white pattern that evokes images of a maidservant) and tied it in the back, all the while getting a hardon. Then I went back into Mistress Laura's office and knelt.

She then gave me a list of chores to do, had me kiss her feet, and left for an appointment for a few hours.

I spent a few blissful hours vacuuming, doing laundry, and scrubbing toilets. Well, actually, my feelings are more complicated than that simple description. For example, I hate scrubbing toilets. However, putting on the yellow gloves and kneeling down and scrubbing the toilet always gives me a rush, produces a very stiff hardon, and empties my mind, giving way to a feeling of calm and relaxation, in spite of (or perhaps because of) hating the task.

I was basically done with my chores when Mistress came back home again. She inspected my work and was pleased, and told me to put my cleaning uniform away and take a little break while she caught up on some paperwork and Emails in her office. At that point, I started to catch up on some blog reading and posting, but a text message interrupted me about fifteen minutes into it.

“Come to my office. -ML”

I left the computer and went to kneel at her feet.

“I feel like having an orgasm. I'll probably let you have one later this long weekend, but not now.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

And with that, she led the way into the bedroom, got comfortable on the bed, and let me start by massaging and licking her feet. I was once again hard as a rock. She gave instructions when she wanted me to change something about what I was doing (“slower, go soft there... that's right...”) and managed to have a nice toe-curling full-body orgasmic release.

“Good boy. Now come here and cuddle me for a bit, before I send you to do some grocery shopping.”

While cuddling, she grabbed her slaveboy's hard hard cock, wrapping her fingers around it at the base of the shaft and gave me a soft kiss on the lips, telling me “I like that you are almost always hard around me and are so eager to please me.”

After a few more minutes, she sent me shopping. When I returned, the rest of the evening was spent watching TV (me sitting naked at my Mistress's feet while she relaxed on the recliner).

When we were ready to sleep for the night, my Lady told me “I'm going to want you to lick and kiss and massage my feet tomorrow morning to wake me up around 8AM. I might even use your mouth and tongue to come again, so be ready.” So, when I shaved again before bed, I made sure to do a very good job.

In bed next to Mistress Laura, I set my alarm for 7:55 and it took me a long time to drift to sleep.

This morning, when my alarm went off, I began my morning by slowly getting out of bed on my side of the bed, moving over to the other side and kneeling down and massaging and kissing my Mistress's beautiful feet. She moaned as she woke up a little bit, and I kissed and licked up her legs, up to around her knees, at which point she grabbed my hair and pulled and pushed by mouth into her pussy. Her smell was intoxicating and I was so hard and excited; there was precum oozing and my heart was beating in a way that I could feel it in my ears and my mouth and tongue were working on automatic.

I felt like an animal, and for just a second, I thought to myself that I could easily pin my Mistress to the bed and push my cock inside her wet pussy, but just as I was thinking this, she pulled my hair and pushed her thighs together around my ears and arched her back and my focus was totally on her, there was nothing but Her in the Universe for an instant; She was my Universe in that moment. I could feel the waves of tension and relaxation and she came nicely, accompanied by some loud guttural sounds that made my heart swell with good feelings.

We lay there for a few minutes then, breathing together.

“Good boy. I think you are getting a little bit better at that.”

That comment made me feel so good at that moment, it's hard to put into words. I get squeaky eyed when I recall it.

“Okay, my boy. I want you to cook me breakfast next: Toasted English muffin, two sausage links, two eggs sunny side up.”

I disentangled myself and prepared and served her breakfast, while she read the news on her iPhone and watched TV in bed.

Since then, we've just been relaxing. we have no plans to watch fireworks later, just taking it easy. I'm happy. She tells me that she's planning to do my attitude adjustment session with the cane later tonight or maybe tomorrow.

Life is good. Here's to hoping that your 4th of July is an enjoyable one too.

Nakedness, hairlessness, humiliation and power

2009-07-02T12:40:00.000-07:00

I love my Mistress Wife, but I am also completely infatuated and obsessed with her and want to please her desperately. There is a deliberate and continual process of enhancing desire and enforcing powerlessness and subtle and not so subtle humiliation that goes into creating and maintaining my state of mind.

Early in our relationship, when my Mistress Wife took the reins, she set up a few rules:

Nakedness - Whenever we are alone, unless she otherwise specifies, I am to be completely nude. This by itself has a very interesting psychological effect on me. Enforced nudeness is a direct reminder that I have no personal boundaries and that my body is not fully my own.

The first thing I do when I get home from work is to quickly undress and go and find Mistress (usually in her office) and kneel quietly at her feet and wait for her to address me. Sometimes I wait a few minutes while she finishes something else, the whole time aware of the fact that I am here to please her and that it is my proper place to kneel here, naked, while she completes an Email or finishes a phone call. My heart beats fast and my cock comes to full attention most of the time before she even turns around and tells me to kiss her feet.

Smoothness/shaving - I shave everywhere at least twice a day. Once in the morning when I wake up, and once in the afternoon before I head back home. And every time I shave, I remember all the little things that Mistress Laura has told me about shaving my hair off for her.

As I shave my face, I hear her voice in my head, telling me “I want your face and lips to be completely smooth for me. Baby smooth. So if I let you kiss me or lick my pussy, I'm completely enjoying it...”

And when I shave my body, I remember her saying things like “I prefer a boy who is all smooth and soft for me... Even your cock and balls... I want it all smooth, do you understand, my little boy?” And the act of shaving makes me focus on her, and on her pleasure and my cock gets hard sometimes just as I turn on the shaver. A constantly re-inforced Pavlovian response.

In this enforced state of hairlessness, as in the requirement to be nude in her presence, the inequality is part of the thrill. Mistress is almost always clothed. And while requiring that I shave off all my hair, most of the time she has a full covering of hair down there (and I love the smell and look and taste of it when she puts my mouth and tongue to work). She gets to do as she pleases, and I get to do as she commands.

For me, these two standing orders seems to be symbolically about removing barriers and reiterating the notion that what she says about my body is The Law. In fact, recently, she has told me that I may not even get a haircut without her permission.

Humiliation - This one comes in many forms.

Denial and orgasm control is part of it. She often teases me for a few days, using my tongue to give herself an orgasm while denying me a release. She then tells me to beg, making me kiss and lick her feet while begging for release, and more often than not, simply says “No.”

She often has me dress in a frilly apron while doing housework so that she can tease me about being such a good little maid for her. This makes me feel embarrassed and also weak in the knees.

Sexually, it's all been about humiliation lately. Recently she had me lay on the floor, with clothespins on my nipples and balls, while she put a realistic looking dildo in my mouth and told me to “suck that cock, and don't even think about coming till I tell you to, you cock sucker.” as I painfully stroked my very hard cock using a small pair of girl panties. When she finally permit me to come, she took the dildo out of my mouth and made me beg for her to remove the clothespins, which she did, one by one, causing me pain (she tells me my pain makes her cunt twitch), and then finished by ordering me to kiss her feet and telling me to wear the wet little girl panties for the rest of the evening.

Objectively looking at this scene, I should not even be in the least bit aroused by it, but I was very much aroused, by the helplessness, by the fact that I had to wait to be allowed to come, and that even then, even while allowing me a release, she was enjoying inflicting pain on me and that I wanted her to, because it pleased her.

The power imbalance, the helplessness, the lack of boundaries are very much tied into the desperate and insatiable erotic charge and the control that she has on me. I am completely smitten by her.

What do you all think? Especially if you are experienced in FemDom dynamics, what is part of the thrill for you?

P.S. I set up a Twitter account recently. Feel free to follow me.

Bruce Willis in love

2009-06-16T14:58:00.000-07:00

I found this news article and the corresponding photo shoot incredibly erotic.

The article is here: I believe in love again, says Bruce Willis - but this steamy S&M photoshoot with new wife Emma Heming is an odd way of showing it.

What do you all think?

Followup on going a little bit crazy...

2009-04-20T19:02:00.000-07:00

It's been a few weeks since my last post. I did not mean to be away from writing this long, but Mistress has been working me very hard (domestically and sexually) and my schedule has been rather full.

As I mentioned in my previous post, Mistress Laura has had a full complement of housework and spring cleaning for me to accomplish, in addition to my normal house chores (cooking and cleaning) on top of my job and my workout schedule.

Most nights, even though I am tired, Mistress has had me kneel by the bed and kiss and massage her feet. About half the time, she allows this to progress to my kissing and licking her legs, tickling the backs of her knees, maybe even using me to lick and clean her asshole (an activity which I love), and then lick her pussy. She has an orgasm or two and rarely allows me to come.

About a week ago, after she had had a couple of orgasms, I mentioned that it would be be great if she would let me come too.

“Oh really? Be careful what you ask for, slaveboy. I feel like being entertained.”

She handed me a condom and told me to put it on. I was hopeful that this might mean she was considering letting me fuck her. No such luck.

She then reached into her nightstand drawer, pulled out a handful of clothespins and had me kneel by the side of the bed while she attached them to my balls. Three on each sac. The pain was sharp and slowly building.

“Now, my boy, kiss my feet and while you are kissing my feet, you may masturbate. If you don't come in two minutes, you won't be allowed to come at all this time. And you still have to ask permission. I may not give it, but I probably will.”

So, I went down to the ground, my face planted on her feet, my lips kissing her feet and toes, my ass in the air, trying to pump the shaft of my cock with my hand without jostling the clothespins on my balls too much. All the while, Mistress Laura was laughing and making comments like “Nice ass. Those are my balls and I can hurt them if I want, isn't that so, Thomas?”

I don't know if you can imagine my headspace; I am naked, trying to kiss my wife's feet and masturbate, while she laughs and jokes and tells me that I only have a minute left.

I got myself close and started asking “Mistress, may I come please?”

She just remained cruelly silent.

“Oh please, may I come? May I please come? Oh please? Please please please? Oh my Lady, may I please come?”

“Yes my boy. Come for me NOW, but don't be taking any of the clothespins off.”

So I managed to come inside the condom, grunting and saying “Thank you Mistress. Thank you...” over and over.

She then had me clean up and get on the bed and lie down on my back. We then watched some TV while the clothespins were still attached to my balls. If you've never had this experience, what happens after a while is that there is a sort of numbness as the body gets used to the constant pain and you can almost forget that there are clothespins attached to you.

After about twenty minutes, she said “Ready?” she positioned her hand to yank off a few of the clothespins, then leaned down and kissed me on the mouth while she removed the three clothespins attached to my left ball-sac with a swift yanking motion. I screamed in pain in her mouth and tears came to my eyes.

“Good boy. Now one more set, unless you want a break?”

“Oh no Mistress. Please. It's hurting and throbbing now a lot. Please take the rest off, Ma'am.”

She kissed me again and yanked the second set off. This time, I managed not to scream, but tears streamed down my cheeks from the pain. She wiped the tears away, and said “Good boy. Now go rinse off in the shower and come to bed.”

I haven't come since then, and she has come several more times.

The way she let me orgasm that night did nothing to calm down my sexual hunger. I am still constantly horny, and I get an erection whenever she makes me kneel or orders me to do anything.

So, that's the followup. I will write more later.

Going a little bit crazy

2009-04-03T07:03:00.000-07:00

It has now been a couple of weeks since Mistress has allowed me to come.

I'm not exactly complaining, but even the least little bit of attention from her causes me to walk around for half an hour with a full on erection.

And yet, almost every other night, she has ordered me to lick her till I feel her pussy muscles clench and her back tighten and the smell and taste of her juices on my face, using me for a mind blowing orgasm.

She tells me that she has a lot of spring cleaning planned and that I will be doing a lot of housework this weekend. Maybe this is just her way of making sure that all my attention and willingness is on doing exactly what she orders me to do this weekend?

I confess, though, that every time she gets herself off and leaves me wanting, even in the midst of my sexual frustration, all I want to do is sink to the floor and kiss her feet, telling her how much I love her and worship her.

Unexpected FemDom

2009-03-28T23:33:00.000-07:00

This last weekend, on Saturday morning, my Mistress wife had a professional conference that she needed to be at. What this usually means for me is that I get up early to make a small breakfast and then I come back into the bedroom and wake Mistress Laura to serve her.

So, I got up about an hour before Mistress needed to be awake and cooked her an omelet and made some toast, poured some coffee and a small glass of OJ and set it all on the small side table. Then I knelt by the side of the bed and massaged her feet slowly and firmly till she woke up and sat on the edge of the bed and gestured for me to just sit on the carpet.

I sat at her feet while we discussed the logistics of the day and she ate.

After she had eaten, she had me clean up while she showered and got dressed. She told me to dress business casual and that I would be her driver and sweet solicitous husband at the event. We've done this many times in the past where she brings me as her guest and I do things like fetch her tea or water. I sometimes think she just likes showing off her control in public.

When we got there, we sat at round tables to listen to the program (which was about different music teaching techniques).

At various points, Mistress gestured for me to go and fetch her some water or tea. Once, when I came back with her tea with a “Here you go, Ma'am,” I sensed that the attention of one of the women at the table was distinctly on us. This impression was quickly verified when she started talking to us at the next break.

After some pleasantries, this woman, who I will refer to as LF, said point blank to Mistress Laura:

“Some friends of mine and I sometimes have our boys serve us tea. Naked.”

Since Mistress wasn't really expecting that sort of conversation at this seminar, she was at first taken aback. “You're joking, right?”

LF gave a very wide smile “No joke. They do get to wear a bowtie.”

After a pause, Mistress asked “Are they at `full attention?'”

“Some are, yes. If you are interested in bringing him, I can arrange it.”

It turns out that there is a network of dominant women in Northern California who have occasional tea parties served by submissive men who are naked. That is one of my fantasies come true!

After a few hours, we left the event and headed for home. On the drive, Mistress Laura told me that the idea of these tea parties intrigued her and that she might like to attend one. When we got home, she then took me into the bedroom, told me to strip, slid out of her skirt and had me lick her pussy till she came hard, all the while telling me that it might be fun for her to network with other Dominas in the area. Then she came again, this time by her own hand, while I sucked on her breasts.

I got no release. Which, weirdly enough, was very comforting to me. She just said “Good boy. Now go and finish the laundry.”

At this point, it seems totally normal that Mistress should be served all day by me, have a conversation with a new acquaintance about naked male servers at a tea party, then use me to have an orgasm or two and then send me off to do more housework.

Becoming fit for my Mistress

2009-03-18T08:54:00.000-07:00

It's been about a year since my last post.

I weighed 165 pounds then. Now I weigh 140. Because of Mistress Laura.

My body fat percentage was around 25. Today, it's about 9. All due to Mistress Laura.

Here's a recent photo of my body (that she owns).

About a year ago, she ordered me to stop wasting so much time online and start doing one of those extreme home fitness systems (P90X, for those who are curious, but I don't think the specifics of the regimen matters). Some co-worker had raved about it and she had seen the late night infomercials.

So, I got the DVDs, the weights, the pullup bar. I installed the pullup bar and could barely do 3 good pullups.

At first, I hated the execrises. They were extremely difficult. Anyway, I would rather write in my blog or read web sites.

The diet component to the plan was also a bit annoying at first, but not so much that I couldn't stick to it consistently. Still, I had serious doubts about being able to stick to the exercise plan.

Mistress quickly fixed my attitude, however.

For the first few weeks, she would sometimes walk in on me when working out and just watch for a few minutes. Then she would say something like "You are looking better. After you are done, go rinse yourself and go and kneel in the bedroom." When I would finish and rinse off, and kneel as she had ordered, she would walk in and order me to kiss her feet (which would quickly cause my cock to get very hard) and then she would allow me to masturbate, all the while telling me that I was a good boy for sticking with the exercises and working hard. As you can imagine, this had me in a fog, wanting to do for her anything she wanted me to do!

Occasionally, when she would see me slacking off, she would tell me bluntly that if I wanted to have my release and not just a hard spanking, I should step up the effort. That usually caused a quick "Yes Ma'am" and a jolt of adrenaline. :-)

Today, I can do 25 full extension pullups and in one session can do over 400 pushups. My stamina is much much higher than it has ever been and overall I feel about ten years younger.

Everything else has been pretty stable. My work situation has changed; As of a couple of months ago, I'm working for a new company a little closer to home.

Mistress works sometimes out of the home and sometimes in her home office. The distribution of labor is still the same. She controls all the money and has final say on all decisions. Every day when I get home, I get naked and start cooking and cleaning as my Mistress commands.

At least every other night, she lets me lick her till she has an orgasm or two. Very occasionally she lets me fuck her, but most of the time recently I get my release through masturbation while she watches or while she is watching TV and telling me to kiss and lick her feet.

Life is good. I'll be posting a bit more regularly from this point on.

The everyday rules that keep me focused on my Mistress

2008-03-14T13:39:00.000-07:00

Every once in a while, I find it useful to take a step back and observe the little rituals and expectations that almost go unnoticed now through daily usage. These are Mistress's rules of conduct that keep my head in the right place. All of these little interactions and bits of formality have grown organically over the last couple of years.

I have come to the conclusion that these daily transactions are more important in the long run than almost anything else in maintaining the D/s energy in our FemDom lifestyle. I would be interested in hearing from others if they have similar experiences (both from the dominant and submissive perspectives).

When I leave for work, I give Mistress Laura a kiss goodbye on the lips. If I forget to do it on my own, she then prompts me, “Now give me a proper goodbye kiss, slaveboy,” and I kneel and kiss her feet. I admit that I sometimes “forget” on purpose so she can prompt me. :-)

When I return from work, I am expected to get completely naked and kneel in her office without saying a word. She is often in the middle of finishing some paperwork or writing an Email. Sometimes it takes her a few minutes (I think she is slow on purpose) before she turns around and allows me to kiss her feet. Even then, I am not allowed to say anything till she starts talking to me. I actually like the delicious anticipation and the uncomfortable vulnerable silence that underscores my place in the relationship.

When we go out to eat, I always open the doors and I pull out her chair before sitting down. She often orders for both of us. After the food arrives I put servings on her plate and wait. She will often eat a few bites before she nods, telling me that I may serve myself now.

When she takes me to a movie, she will often specify exactly how she wants me to be dressed. Often, it's “business casual,” but sometimes she will have me wear shorts and a t-shirt without any underwear so that she can put her hand on my thighs and be amused by the tent growing in my shorts.

When we watch TV, I am almost always naked and sitting at her feet. Sometimes she will tell me to massage her feet while she watches TV. On rare and blissfull occasions she will have me licking her pussy while she watches TV. All in all, the impression I am left with is that I am here to pleasure her and to make her life easier. Of course, eating her out like that always makes me horny, but she does not seem to care too much about that (which is exactly as I like it, even if I whine from time to time).

She recently bought a bell that she will ring randomly throughout the day. When I hear the bell, no matter what I am doing, I am to come and kneel by her feet so that she can tell me what she wants. When I hear the bell, my stomach does a little flip-flop and I am at her feet as quickly as I am able. Sometimes she will ring the bell when she knows I am in the middle of something that is absorbing my attention just to see me kneel there, then she will just grin and say “Good boy. Go back to what you were doing.” Frustrating, maddening and hot, all at the same time. :-)

I am to address her as “Ma'am” or “My Lady” in public. Her friends (except now for Susan) just think I am being romantic, which I am, but it's more about respect and deference. Another rule of hers is that I may never argue with her in public. We may argue in private, but you will mostly hear me saying things like “Yes Ma'am.” when we are discussing anything in public.

Very much in need of a release

2008-03-08T02:23:00.000-08:00

When I got home tonight, Mistress sent me to the video store to get some movies, and we watched “Darjeeling Limited”

Afterwards, she had me shave my face again and meet her in the bedroom.

In the bedroom, she basically instructed me to give her a nice long massage, relaxing her from head to toe. After about 20 minutes, she flipped over onto her back and pushed my face into her furry pussy.

I love the way she smells and tastes and seeing her curly pubic hair turns me on very much. I enthusiastically licked her, following her verbal instructions to the letter (“Slow down. A little higher. Circle round. Uh huh. Good boy...”) and she had a full body tensing orgasm with an accompanying guttural sound that just about drove me nuts.

Then she rolled over and fell asleep.

This is the third night this week that she has used me like this, without any hint of giving me a release. I am very tempted to masturbate, but I won't. I know that when she finally gives me a release, it will be much better than anything I could do by myself.

Goodnight, everyone. Hope your weekend is a good one!

Thoughts about consent in a fulltime FemDom relationship

2008-03-07T12:55:00.000-08:00

The comment made by strongnsubmissive in response to my previous post prompted me to ruminate on the idea of consent.

I have no safeword. My relationship with my Mistress is as lopsided as it can possibly be. She holds all the strings: she controls the money and makes all the rules. My body is hers to use. My will is hers to control.

This is all, of course, my choice.

By some definition of choice.

When she tells me to “Strip, slaveboy, and kiss my feet,” my head swims and I am in an erotic fog. I move quickly to obey, disrobing, the very fact of shedding my clothes enhancing my already existing state of vulnerability and surrender. By the time my lips are on her beautiful feet, my mind is already long gone past any thoughtful consideration of “is this really my choice?” or even “is this appropriate or safe?”

Her control of me is like a drug and I thrive on the fear and the arousal inherent in my ever present surrender. I am addicted to my Mistress.

By my own choice...

By some definition of choice.

This state of surrender and naked vulnerability (even when fully clothed) only exists inside the context of my relationship with my Mistress Wife and not in any other random interaction or relationship. It implies a level of trust that is built on experience.

For example, when I contemplate the same situation with an unknown woman who I somehow know to be dominant, telling me to strip and to kneel at her feet: it is an exciting fantasy but in the reality of the doing, I know that I would be very guarded inside; all of my emotional and mental armor would be fully operational and the act would feel like an empty gesture.

In this context of unconditional surrender, I don't think it is even possible to have a way to have a discussion about what I would like or not like, as equals, apart from the inherent power imbalance that exists. Mistress knows that when I get a whiff of something that pleases her that I will start to move my thinking and my feelings in the direction of trying to please her.

She uses this fact to her advantage and to my miserable delight.

For a relatively minor example: Early on in our relationship, she told me that it turned her on to see me naked, on my hands and knees, scrubbing the kitchen floor. Immediately, that statement created in my mind an urge to scrub the kitchen floor. Mistress further used this urge by rationing it. She would have me do a quick cursory sweep of the kitchen floor two or three weekends in a row, and would say something like “And maybe next week, I'll let you scrub the floor, on your hands and knees for me, while I read a book on the couch, where I can watch you. You'll like that.” She has done this so many times now that she can tell me to go and scrub the kitchen floor while she goes shopping at her favorite bookstore, knowing that by the time she returns the floor will be clean and I will also be in a desperate state of arousal, ready to do whatever else will please her.

For a more extreme example: I am by nature a very jealous person. Mistress knows this. However, over the last few months, Mistress Laura has slowly teased me about having sex with a male acquaintance of ours, call him “Bill,” communicating with me very clearly about how much it would turn her on. What does this do to me on the inside? I have a rush of excitement, wanting to please her, wanting to see her excitement, even delighting in the thought of my tortured jealousy and unhappiness... I am still jealous, to be sure, but that is secondary to my need to turn her on, to make her happy.

She sometimes punctuates these... conversations or interactions by having me lie on the ground on my back at her feet, naked, while she presses her foot onto my (her) cock and telling me in detail about all the things she thinks about doing with Bill.

A real life snippet of the kinds of things she says to me while I am under her foot, from my memory: “My miserable jealous little boy... maybe I would make you kneel, at the side of the bed, dressed in your pretty little girl skirt and my collar... So you could see clearly, Bill kissing me and pushing me onto the bed and pushing his cock into me... And I know you would want to taste my juices... Because you know it turns me on... and you would, when I would have you suck Bill's cock so he could get hard again for me. You would do that for me, wouldn't you?”

Later, Mistress Laura tells me that she does not think that she would ever actually do such a thing, but she needs me to understand that she could do it, and that I would really have no choice in the matter.

This state of affairs is my choice, of course.

By some perverse definition of choice.

Mistress "outed" us to a friend

2008-02-28T14:31:00.000-08:00

Since the beginning, Mistress Laura has had some fairly strict privacy boundaries around our relationship, especially as it relates to some of her oldest friends. That all changed a couple of weekends ago.

The upcoming Monday, February 18th, was President's Day, a holiday from my work, so I was going to get to spend almost four straight days at home, starting with Friday night.

Friday night, Mistress told me to get naked and to kneel at her feet while she watched television. I happily did this, at times rubbing her feet and in the process becoming more and more aroused. There's nothing like being made to be naked and vulnerable in front of my fully clothed Mistress to put me in my proper place. In this particular instance, this feeling was enhanced greatly when Mistress told me “Looks like my cock and balls are a bit hairy. I don't like that. Go shave them smooth like a little boy's and come back.”

I did as I was told, shaving off the hairs from my cock and balls and applying nair to get the hair off around my ass and under my balls. About twenty minutes later, I was kneeling at my Mistress's feet again.

“You've been a bit sloppy lately. You used to shave yourself smooth for me every day. Now I think you've let it go to once every few days at times. We're going to stop the sloppiness this weekend.”

“Yes Mistress,” this seemed to me to be the only appropriate response, which I gave. Meanwhile, her shaved and baby-smooth cock was standing at full attention, letting her know how much I love it when she starts laying down the law and being more strict with me.

“Do you have any work that you need to do this weekend? Anything you were planning?”

I thought for a minute and replied that I did not.

“Good. From this point on, you will not check Email without my permission. You will not go outside of the house without my permission. You will not go to the bathroom without checking with me, and unless I tell you otherwise, you are to remain naked in my presence. Do you understand, slaveboy?”

“Yes Ma'am.”

She then had me kiss her feet and then set me to the task of housecleaning, starting with vacuuming and laundry. I kept to her rules all Friday. Saturday was spent cooking and continuing to clean house for my Mistress, mostly naked, except for when I was cooking, when I was told to wear one of Mistress Laura's frilly pink aprons and my high heeled shoes. This combination made for a very visible tent pole in the front. ;-)

When Sunday morning rolled around, Mistress Laura told me that an old female friend of hers was going to be visiting us in the early afternoon and that I should be on my best behavior.

“Yes Mistress,” I told her, serving her breakfast and then sitting at her feet, naked.

About an hour later, having finished the last of the laundry and folded it and put it away, I got dressed and took the the dog for a walk, thinking that Mistress could not possibly be serious about having me completely naked in her presence with her old friend visiting and that my “strict” service was pretty much over for the weekend.

I did the normal 40 or so minute walk and returned home to see an unfamiliar car in the driveway. I took the dog back inside and saw that Mistress Laura was sitting with her friend in the living room.

“Come here, Tom, I want you to meet Susan,” she called to me when she saw that I had returned.

I came over to the couch and shook hands with Susan, a slim woman with curly blond hair who held my gaze with the most inquisitive expression, as if she was about to ask me something. The moment passed without her asking the question, however.

“Glad to meet you.” I said, feeling comfortable.

I noticed that Mistress Laura was looking on with amusement at some private joke and I was suddenly feeling very unsettled.

“Sue and I are college friends. We used to tell each other everything that was going on in our lives,”

She paused, then continued, her tone suddenly changing as she leaned forward and I felt the heat of her intense attention. “Thomas, my boy, I appreciate your taking the dog for a walk, but I did not give you permission to leave the house, did I?”

My cheeks were suddenly hot and I could not look at my Mistress, I shifted my gaze downward and felt really small, embarrassed beyond words, and did not say anything. There was a very awkward moment of silence.

“slaveboy, answer me.”

“No Ma'am. You did not give me permission.”

“And there's another thing. I remember telling you quite clearly that you were to be naked in my presence unless I tell you otherwise. Did I tell you that you could wear clothes just because my friend was visiting? If it was going to be an issue, I would have told you exactly how I wanted you dressed before she got here. Do you think that you can decide these things for yourself?”

I just stood there, dumbly looking down at the ground. The hot feeling in my cheeks extended all the way down my neck and even onto the top of my shoulders. I felt myself sweating as if in fear.

“Take off your clothes now, then kiss my feet, and sit down there.”

Slowly, I undressed, putting my shoes and socks in the corner of the room, then my jeans and t-shirt were neatly folded and joined the pile, and finally my briefs. I knelt at my Mistress's feet, my shaved cock shamelessly at full attention even as my face practically burned with my embarrassment.

“See, just like I told you,” I heard Mistress Laura say as I put my lips on her feet.

“Wow. I thought you were joking. It's real?!?” Susan said. Looking up from the ground for a second, I saw that she was smiling down at me and that made me feel a little bit better. She seemed to be okay with this, but I should have known that, or else Mistress would not have had me do this in front of her.

I sat back down on the ground at Mistress's feet, silent, as she continued conversing with Susan. I don't know how long it was, but about ten, maybe fifteen minutes passed and it seemed to feel normal, my sitting naked at my Mistress's feet even as she talked with her friend. I was her pet, her slave, just another accessory in her life.

A while later, Mistress had me serve tea for her and Susan while wearing my high heels and new “pretty clothes.” (the extra lacey and see through black women's lingerie top she had recently bought for me). That outfit seemed to make Susan smile wide, which made me feel very very small.

After serving tea, Mistress told me to get completely naked again and clean the bathrooms, “and make sure to scrub the inside and the outside of all the toilet bowls.”

“Yes Mistress,” I said, taking off my pretty things and getting the yellow latex gloves and my bucket of cleaning solutions and going off to scrub toilets.

Later, after Susan left, Mistress Laura inspected my work and said that I did a good job but that she needed to teach me a lesson about obeying her orders completely.

She caned me that night (which at this point is more than a week ago) and I still have a couple of stripes across my ass from that caning. After the caning, she let me eat her pussy till she orgasmed, but denied me any release.

Since then, I have been much more attentive and have felt more solidly “owned” by my Mistress.

Once again, I return, on Mistress's command

2008-02-12T19:24:00.000-08:00

Hi everyone. It's been a few months since I have written.

In the intervening months, a lot has happened, and nothing has happened.

Mistress Laura and I just got busier and busier, with the pace of life just not seeming to slow down at all.

Most of the parts of our daily routines and rituals remained intact, but for me (and I think for my Mistress too), there was not much enthusiasm. Things had gotten a bit robotic till a couple of weeks ago.

That's when Mistress sat me down and told me that we need to spend more time focusing on our relationship and finding time for me to serve her more again. She asked me about what makes me feel “more connected.” I told her that I felt connected to her and felt most like serving her when I take the time to read and write in in this blog and read about the experiences of other submissive men.

So... as a result of that conversation, now I am here on my Mistress's command. No matter how busy things get, I am to spend a bit of time here, writing and reading, sharing my experiences.

Things have been very busy (work life, mostly) but even so, just writing here calms me down and excites me for some reason. Mistress knows best. :-) :-)

How to intensify a slaveboy's foot fetish.

2007-09-05T10:44:00.000-07:00

It's been a couple of months since I have posted. This summer was a very busy time for Mistress Laura and I and between the home improvements, my job, her job, normal social and family obligations, keeping the house clean and doing the cooking, I have not had much time to post.

I realized about a week ago that it's been a few months since Mistress Laura has allowed me to put my cock inside her.

At the same time, she has had me pleasure her to orgasms a few times a week and I have gotten used to not being allowed to come. She says it keeps me focused and hungry to please her and that I get more “naughty” soon after she lets me come. I argue with her a little about this, saying that I can be a perfectly good boy even if she lets me come a few times a week, she just smiles. In the end it doesn't matter, since she owns my cock and it's up to her when or if I come.

In fact, the last time she let me orgasm was about a month ago. The evening started normally enough. Wearing only a red frilly apron, her leather collar and high heel shoes, I had a hot chicken and rice meal on the table set for one and I was kneeling in the kitchen, waiting for her. She smiled and bent down to kiss me, and said “good girl,” before sitting down to enjoy her meal.

She told me to take off the apron and sit comfortably. I remember the kitchen floor was cold against my naked ass. Every once in a while, she fed me a morsel on her fork. When she was done, she put her plate of leftovers on the floor and told me to “finish it without using your hands.”

It's hard to describe what acts like this do to my mindset... I used my mouth and my tongue to clean the plate and I got a bit of rice stuck to my face, which she wiped away with a wet washcloth, then we retired to the living room.

In the living room, she had me set up the TV and give her the remote, then lay on my back at her feet while she watched television. She was sitting in her comfortable overstuffed chair (like a Lazy-Boy reclining chair). She positioned me so that my face was about where her foot would be and told me that my job was to massage her feet and to kiss and lick them. I proceeded to do so.

Touching my Mistress's pretty feet and ankles gets me very hot and bothered and the rising member between my legs attested to this fact. Every once in a while, I heard Mistress chuckle and say, “What a good boy, serving me turns you on.”

After a long time (probably about 30 minutes -- judging by the fact that the sitcom she was watching ended and another show began), she told me, “Since you've been such a good boy tonight, I'm going to let you come by rubbing yourself against my feet. When you make a mess, you'll have to lick my feet clean again. Understand?”

“Yes Mistress.”

She had me position myself with my ass close to her feet and told me to put my feet up so that they were somewhat supported on the arms of the chair; mostly it meant that the back of my calves were leaning against the chair handle in a way that somewhat supported the weight of my legs which were sticking up in the air.

So, from her vantage point, she could look down on my naked body, look into my face, and press her foot down into my shaved cock and balls.

Then, she started to slide her foot up and down the shaft of her engorged toy while looking at my eyes. The tip of my cock was pretty slippery with precum, so soon enough the bottom of her foot was slick and it felt pretty good sliding up and down.

“Such a good little boy,” Mistress Laura cooed while pressing hard into me and sliding her foot up my shaft. “You're going to have to beg to come, my boy.”

Hardly two minutes had passed. “Oh please, Mistress... Please... May I come?”

“You're going to have to lick off your own spooge, you know... Yes, you may!”

I shuddered a long shudder and most of the cum shot up to my belly and Mistress Laura deliberately pushed her foot into the puddle of cum, covering the bottom of her foot with my “spooge” as she called it.

For any submissive men that have not had the experience, the idea of licking your own cum is hot, but in reality, it's just disgusting.

Nevertheless, Mistress held her foot out in front of her and said “Clean me up, bitch.” and I repositioned myself so I was on all fours and licking the bottom of her foot, suppressing my gag reflex while she just chuckled.

Since that time, my usually strong level of arousal at touching Mistress Laura's feet has been even higher. From a psychological point of view, I understand this: She's training me like any pavlovian subject, like a dog, linking pleasure with behaviors that she wants.

That fact, that she is training me to be her toy and to please her and even engineering my reactions and intensifying my fetishes really turns me on.

New Experience: Overwhelming desire to be hurt

2007-06-21T01:22:00.000-07:00

Finally, it happened.

As some of you might know, in an earlier phase of my life, I used to delight in pain. Inflicting pain on (mostly) submissive girls of my acquaintance. I was good at it, too. A remorseless sadist with a sensitive touch; and yet... I never really understood the look of joy and transcendence in the submissive's face.

For the last few weeks, my Mistress wife has been working me hard, expecting perfect obedience and handing out demerits when I have not met her exacting demands. On a weekly basis, she has been punishing me; this is something that I crave but I don't enjoy.

Her punishments are painful and many times not the least bit erotic, and yet, when she hurts me, my cock becomes instantly hard and remains hard throughout the session. Sometimes I almost feel as if the session is a simple chore for her, another technique among many to keep her slaveboy in line. At other times, it's more than that... Or maybe I just fool myself, seeing what I want to see.

Tonight, for the first time ever, I started to feel something beyond the simple pain, and it was made clear to me that this is more than just a chore for her.

As I was leaving work to go home, there was a voicemail message on my cell phone from Mistress Laura:

“Slaveboy, tonight, when you come home, take a quick rinse, put your collar on, set up the cane and the paddle on the bed, kneel and wait for me in the bedroom. I want to settle your demerits tonight. I have a business meeting and will be home about 6:15. Be ready.”

Simple and direct. I drove home, arriving about half an hour before my Mistress, and quickly shaved, brushed my teeth and showered. I put everything in place and knelt by the bed, naked except for her collar, waiting.

When she arrived, she sat on the bed and watched me for what seemed like an eternity. I kept my eyes downcast and waited. Nervous. Finally, she patted the bed, her signal for me to get on the bed on all fours next to her.

“I want you to know something...”

I tensed up. Oh God. Here it comes. I know where this is going. She's going to tell me that she isn't into punishing me or is feeling some weight of obligation. She wants to back off or slow down. She's been very untalkative recently. Oh God. I feel sick in my stomach.

“When I have hurt you the last few times...”

I closed my eyes, feeling a rushing in my ears. I hope this is not going where I think it's going.

“It makes my cunt twitch.”

It feels as if the bottom falls out of my stomach and my head is swimming now. I am suddenly inflamed with the desire to be hurt. I don't say anything, but my breathing becomes ragged.

“I'm a bit afraid of my own feelings. Sometimes I really want to hurt you a lot more than I have... How do you feel about that, my boy?”

“Oh... Please... I want to please you, Mistress.” my cock is painfully erect. “I've never really felt like this before... In this instant, I want you to hurt me.” I manage to say, feeling a deep blush enveloping my face and neck.

Why am I embarrassed? Have I not caused this very state in others? I feel so raw and vulnerable in this instant.

She then stood up and walked around the bed, to look at my face. She cupped my face in her hands and tenderly asked a simple question:

“Are you sure?”

I realized at this point that this was my one chance to back out. If I had a headache or something was going on that I would not be able to withstand the kind of beating she was contemplating, now would be the time to say something. I loved Mistress Laura in that moment in a way that is hard to put into words. She takes good care of me.

“Yes, Mistress.”

She smiled then and slipped off her skirt and panties, then picked up the cane and walked around to my bottom.

“You have three demerits. I'm going to forget about you drawing a card tonight. The multiplier is 20. That means 60 strikes.”

She hit me in groups of 10 strikes. The first two groups were excruciatingly painful. I yelled in pain but I remained on the bed, on all fours. Sweat broke out all over my body and I whimpered. I felt a stinging heat a few times that suddenly washed over my whole body.

After she had delivered fifty strokes with the cane, I was flying high on endorphins. She stopped for a moment...

“I'm going to use this last ten strikes to get myself off... You can't see, but I'm touching myself with my other hand... You're such a good boy...” Mistress cooed.

With each stroke, it felt like my ass was on fire. I shouted with each one. Sometimes she paused for a few seconds and sometimes it seemed as if they were following one after another. I was not keeping track, but I am fairly certain that the last ten strokes stretched out into twenty or thirty strokes.

Towards the end of the beating... “Tell me how it feels, slaveboy.”

“It hurts, Mistress, it hurts a lot, but it also feels good. I'm so confused.”

“Oh... Good boy... I like hurting you....” and the guttural groans told me that my Mistress had orgasmed. My cock twitched and I wanted to ask for her to let me come too, but she cut that thought off...

“Mmmm... That was nice, slaveboy. Just in case you were wondering, I don't feel like making you come tonight. Maybe later in the week. Get off the bed and come here and kiss my feet.”

With my ass stinging, my body covered in sweat, completely overwhelmed with feelings of love, I crawled over to where Mistress Laura stood and lovingly kissed her feet.

I never considered myself a masochist. I'm not so sure now.

Thoughts about teasing and punishment

2007-05-17T00:45:00.000-07:00

I am kneeling in front of the computer right now as I type this, only dressed in my Mistress's collar. She is sleeping in the other room, after ordering me to massage her hands and feet (using lotion) and then to lick her legs, especially behind her knees, while she kept teasing me verbally about all the things she wants to do to me on our next scheduled spanking session. I'm looking forward to Friday evening.

Earlier tonight, after I massaged her and licked her for over an hour, she slipped off her panties, grabbed me by the hair and shoved my face into her cunt.

“Lick me, slaveboy,” she ground my nose and face into her furry pussy. A long time ago, she used to shave herself smooth there. Now, I am titillated by her hairiness, especially since it contrasts with her requirement that I remove all my pubic hair. At the time she made that rule, she told me that since it's her cock, she wants to see it naked all the time, that means no clothes for me without her permission and the constant shaving always reminds me that I am her toy.

I licked and licked and she groaned and her scent filled my nose and mouth. My cock was standing at attention the whole time. “Faster. That's good. Good boy...” after a few more minutes, she bucked and made an utterly maddening guttural noise that was sort of a combination shout and moan while the shudder of her orgasm spread out over her whole body.

“Put your cock inside me. Once it's there, just hold me. Don't hump. Don't move. Just fill me.”

I did as my Mistress ordered, sliding my hard cock inside her and then just staying still. Holding her. Pure torture. She slowly drifted off to sleep, then, and just before she actually fell asleep, she told me “You'll sleep on the floor at the foot of the bed tonight. Go and get me a glass of orange juice and pull the covers over me.”

I did as I was told, and after I pulled the covers over her, I decided to write a bit in this blog, to settle myself down and to think by writing. I hope that what I write here makes sense tonight.

Paradoxically, not being allowed to sleep with my Mistress, after the intimacy of massaging her, licking her, giving her an orgasm and even being allowed to be inside her for a few minutes (oh, such a sweet heavenly torture) only makes me want her more. She completely has my number. :-)

As I wrote earlier, I am really looking forward to the next punishment session. They are the only times that I am allowed to orgasm, and then, not every time. The randomness of the reward, linked always to the certainty of pain, keeps me on my best behavior between sessions.

Mistress has managed to train me to hold my orgasms till she gives the command, which means that on occasion she has used me as her live dildo for about ten minutes, orgasming herself around my hard cock, then ordering me to pull out and to start working on cleaning the bathroom. Again, on the occasions that she has done things like that, I am mentally gone, “dropped” into sub-space, completely hers to command. My frustration is completely overpowered by my awe and devotion.

When we first began our relationship, Mistress Laura kept a notebook in which she would record my infractions (not listening, giving her back-talk, not doing something to her specifications) and then she would administer a weekly spanking, meting out whatever she decided for each bad behavior.

After a few months of this, she changed the system. She told me that she was tired of the book-keeping and would now be giving out “demerits” and that I would need to keep track of how many demerits I had between spanking sessions. Then, on Friday nights, I was required to lay out all her implements of torture (spanking paddle, whips, canes, clothes pins) and kneel next to the bed till she came into the bedroom. She would then decide how many swats each “demerit” was worth and would give me the punishment accordingly.

It hurts to be punished. I'm not really a pain slut, but I have found that I actually crave being hurt by her now... I don't really want to be hurt by anybody else, but for her, especially when that look of lust and pleasure crosses her face, I want her to beat me till there are welts on my ass that I can feel for a week afterwards...

A recent piece that Mistress Laura added to the punishment sessions: the introduction of chance. She now has me keep track of the number of demerits, then, before starting the punishment, she has me cut a deck of cards and pick a card. That card represents the number of swats per demerit that I will get. Her rules are that Jokers are wild (meaning she gets to decide what they represent) and the Jacks are 11, Kings are 12 and Queens are worth 13.

As of today, I have earned 7 demerits. The last few were kind of stupid of me. I argued with my Mistress when I should not have and I will pay for it, I am certain.

I hope I pull a nice high numbered card on Friday. :-)

Musings on ownership and permanent markings

2007-05-02T17:27:00.000-07:00

My Mistress has a rule for me that is deliciously lopsided.

I am required to wear my wedding ring while she will almost never wears hers. It's one of the ways that she reminds me that I am owned and that she is the boss. This morning, in the hustle and bustle of getting ready to chauffeur her to work on the way to my own job, I forgot to put her ring on.

Later in the day, when we were driving back home, she noticed that I was not wearing my “man collar” as she likes to call it. She teased me by saying in a mock exasperated voice “What, do you think you are a free boy now? Where is my ring, slaveboy? How can you forget to put your little man-collar on?”

Her teasing has the effect of going straight to my emotions and my loins. I was thrilled to be teased, at the same time as being embarrassed. Frankly, the worst thing in the world would have been if she had not noticed it or did not comment on it. I was not trying to be bad in any way, but once I noticed that I was not wearing the ring, I wanted her to notice it and control me and the situation. Does that make any sense?

In any case, the conversation meandered and at one point Mistress Laura says to me:

“You know... In about a year, if you are still my slaveboy, which I don't see why you wouldn't be... I'm going to put a tattoo on you. I'm not exactly sure what it would be, but I know I'm going to do it. Not this summer, but next summer.”

If I were not driving the car, I would have dropped to me knees and kissed her feet. That proclamation made my stomach drop and my vision get misty for a few seconds. I was happy, but I wasn't quite sure why. My breathing became ragged and she just chuckled.

Now, I reflect on what I was happy about... I hate needles. I don't really like tattoos. But even thinking about my dislikes makes me horny and weak in the knees. I like the fact that she knows that I hate needles and tattoos and she still wants to mark me in that way.

Of course, right now the idea is merely fantasy. Two summers from now is a long time away. But... I remember my Mistress's chuckle and I know that it's more than fantasy.

From my own experiences as the dominant in some relationships in the past, I know that some changes are nurtured slowly. When you want your submissive to do something for you that goes against their natural inclinations, you introduce the idea and link it to pleasing you. You play with it as an idea and tease them with it, and if you are successful at playing with the idea, by the time the actual deed is done, the submissive is practically begging the dominant to have it done.

I can see that starting to happen to me.

Chris Rock on relationships

2007-04-24T16:51:00.000-07:00

Oh man!!! This video of Chris Rock talking about relationships had me rolling on the floor in gut busting laughter. It is full of profanity, but I think there is wisdom here for any FemDom relationship. :-)

Making slaveboys squat to poop may be good for their health. :-)

2007-02-27T14:31:00.000-08:00

There have been a few times when Mistress has had me go potty outside, in the backyard, squatting naked in the grass.

The interesting thing is that I always felt perfectly comfortable and at peace, doing my business like that.

So, I was using Firefox's StumbleUpon plugin, and I ran into this: Squat, Don't Sit!

Amusing. What do you all think?

Best regards,
Thomas.

Sublime torture

2007-02-25T07:10:00.000-08:00

For the last few weeks, my Mistress has ramped up her everyday control of me by doing the following routine. When she is on her way home from work, she calls me on the cell phone.

“My boy, I want dinner ready on the table, with you naked, kneeling in the kitchen when I get home.”

Even though this is a frequent occurrence, I am always excited by kneeling naked for her. She gets home, strokes my head, sometimes leans down and kisses me, and sits down to eat. She always teases me about how eager my neglected cock is. How it looks so smooth and hairless, like a little boy's.

When she has had a few bites, she will let me join her and eat a little bit myself.

If she needs a drink, I get it for her. If she wants a foot rub, she tells me and I am supposed to stop immediately whatever it is I am doing and kneel down next to her to rub her feet.

When she is done with dinner, she will get up and tell me to follow her into her bedroom.

“Kneel there, slaveboy,” she points to the floor, next to her bed.

When I do, I am once again instantly at attention. She giggles at that; no matter how many times she has done this, my cock still springs to a full erection and I feel embarrassed by her laughing.

She will then sit on the edge of the bed, pull off her dress and slip off her panties, lay back and say to me something like: “Time for my little boy to kiss Mommy in her special place. Come on up, boy!”

I then get on the bed, put my face between her legs, and lick and kiss her pussy. The scent of her drives me mad. I know exactly how to kiss her. I know how to use my thumb and fingers to give her pleasure. Each time she has me do this, I get a little bit better and I am perfect at following her directions.

After about ten or fifteen minutes, she will come, often holding my hair and pushing my face into her pussy as she does so.

Then, she slowly gets up and has me lay on my back.

She will often grasp my hard hard cock, which is spewing precum, and smile, looking into my eyes.

“You did a good job, my boy. I suppose you would like a release too?”

“Yes, Mistress, but it's your choice.” at this point, I am panting and could probably orgasm if she just pumped my cock (her property) just a little bit with her hand.

“Yes, it is my choice. Not tonight. I don't want to give you an idea that this had anything to do with your pleasure.”

“Yes, Ma'am.” It's hard to describe, but at these moments, I am simultaneously unhappy for not being allowed any release and ecstatic about her control over me.

“Go clean up the kitchen and go about your housework.”

This routine has been going on now for about a month. I am practically going out of my mind with lust whenever she touches me. At the same time, I am much much quicker to jump whenever she orders me to do something.

Today (Sunday), she has set me the task of vaccuuming the whole house and doing all the laundry while she relaxes. I am so completely enthralled by her, so completely in heat and so completely hers to do with as she wishes.

It's been a full year, what does my typical day look like?

2007-02-06T15:35:00.000-08:00

It's been a year since Mistress Laura and I formalized our relationship.

I am amazed by how fast time has flown by.

I continue to do all the housework (vaccuming, laundry, pet care, etc). My cooking skills have only improved with time and practice. I still occasionally find it hard to say “Yes, Mistress”, but the weekly attitude adjustment sessions and her complete control of my sexual pleasure keep me in check and are constant visceral and quite erotic reminders for me that she is the boss and I am her servant.

A typical day these days for us goes like this:

I wake up around 5:30 AM, slipping out of bed as noiselessly as possible so that Mistress can remain asleep.

Next, I exercise. Every weekday, I do weights followed by varying intensities on the treadmill or elliptical; on the weekends I skip the weights and go for a longer and less intense cardio session (sometimes a run, sometimes a long walk, other times I bike).

After this, I take a quick rinse, dry off, then remain naked till Mistress wants me dressed, except for her leather collar which I wear whenever I am serving her.

Now, I start making breakfast for Mistress Laura. Most of the time, it's something warm (eggs, hash browns, etc). She usually tells me what she wants the night before. When breakfast is ready, I go back to the bedroom and put the plates on the side table and kneel on the floor by the side of the bed. Slowly and gently, I massage Mistress's feet till she wakes up and I serve her breakfast.

While she is eating, we chat. I am usually naked, kneeling or sitting on the floor and she is dressed in her night gown, sitting on the bed. More often than not, my cock is rock hard and my head swims in a mixture of adoration and lust. When she is finished with breakfast, she moves into her office and I make the bed. Sometimes I vaccuum the bedroom (it only takes a few minutes). I clean up the dishes and clean up the breakfast mess in the kitchen.

When it is time for me to go to work (having finished all my morning household chores), I go into her office and kneel behind her. Sometimes she leaves me like that for a few minutes while she keeps typing an email. When she does that, my cock gets even more turgid, since she is objectifying me and making sure I know that what she is doing is more important than paying attention to me. Finally, she turns around and asks me what I want. “May I go to work, Mistress?” Of course she says “Yes” but more often that not, she will tell me to kiss her feet first.

I kiss her feet and I retreat back to Her bedroom and start to get dressed and go to work.

My work day is fairly ordinary. Mistress herself works at a local college. She likes to occasionally keep track of what I am doing by IM. Most days, we talk for a minute or two on the phone during the day to check in. When I am at work, I run my meetings, manage our software projects, and occasionally I get to do some programming. When my work day is done, I happily leave for home.

When I get home, more often than not Mistress is still working. I strip and put on Mistress's collar, then I go around the house and do a little bit of cleaning, a bit of laundry, and start cooking dinner. When I cook dinner, I am required to wear the apron that Mistress picked out for me. It's red with just a bit of a frilly border. While dinner is cooking, I usually clean out the litter boxes and feed Mistress's dog.

Mistress arrives home to find me kneeling next to the kitchen table. The the dinner that she wanted is ready, the plates are set, and her soda is also set up exactly where she wants it. We greet each other and she lets me sit while we eat and talk.

After dinner, I clean up. Sometimes she sits at the kitchen table and watches and teases me while I clean dishes (I love that!); at other times, she goes back into her office and I go and kneel by her when I am done with cleanup.

Later in the evening, Mistress likes to watch TV. I sit at her feet while she sits in the comfortable easy-chair. I am in charge of the remote controls, but she is in charge of me. ;-)

When we are done with the TV, Mistress sends me ahead to turn down the bed and kneel by the side of the bed, waiting for her. It's usually a bit before midnight at this time. She sits at the edge of the bed and we do our usual ritual: I kiss her feet, then I massage them, putting hand-lotion on her feet. Sometimes she has me give her a backrub till she falls asleep. Sometimes (not often enough for my tastes!) she has me lick and kiss her and give her an orgasm.

This late night ritual only very rarely ends in sexual release for me, but I am ecstatically happy whenever I get to give her pleasure. My release has been linked much more to our weekly spanking and caning sessions and the occasional humiliation play that pushes Mistress's sadistic buttons.

At this point, if she feels like it, which is most of the time, Mistress tells me that I can sleep in the bed with her. Occasionally, she has me sleep on a doggy bed at the foot of the bed.

So, that's my usual routine. I hope you enjoyed this peek into this slaveboy's life.

Best regards,
Thomas.

Whew... I'm back.

2007-01-23T17:34:00.000-08:00

It's been a very hectic two months since my last post. Starting today, I'll be starting to write more regularly again. Probably a few short entries a week, then back to my usual daily notes and reflections.

In the last two months, we went through Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Year's.

For me, it was all a blur, since I've been holding down my regular job, doing contracts on the side, increasing my exercise regime, enrolled in college courses, while continuing to serve my Mistress by doing the housework and attending to all her needs.

One of my major accomplishments during this time period where I disappeared from writing on my blog here has been that I went from being slightly overweight (at 175 pounds) to being athletically trim (at 145 pounds) by implementing the strategies that Saratoga pointed me to and sticking to that routine religiously. I have so much more energy now and I need to have that energy, to continue to do all the things I do!

I am now working on having six-pack abs, and it is very much within reach. Mistress really appreciates my newly hard body and I love her attention, of course. :-)

Anyways, I'll write more later.

Best regards,

Thomas.

A quick update

2006-11-20T12:48:00.000-08:00

It's been over two weeks since my last post, and some of you have wondered where I am.

It's that time of year, with the holidays looming, and with my Mistress working in academia, and my work in Silicon Valley, things have gotten very busy.

We are still having fun, but I've not had much time for blogging.

Between the housework, my day job, my new exercise regime and eating patterns, my beginning writing career, and the new short term contract which I just finished (whew!!) it's a wonder I even had time to sleep!

On a personal note, since starting a new more integrated exercise regime and eating many small meals, I have shed about 10 pounds. Thanks, Saratoga, for the info you pointed me to!

I haven't even read all the blogs I usually like to read in the last two weeks.

Anyhow, I'll write more later, when I can catch my breath.

Have a happy Thanksgiving, everyone!

Thomas.

Post-play orneriness as an emotional defense

2006-11-03T15:51:00.000-08:00

On Wednesday night, Mistress had me pleasure her with an all-over body massage which turned into a couple hour long play session. In the middle of it all, she consistently teased me and forced me to come to the edge, while saying “No. You may not.” to every single request of mine to orgasm.

She herself took her sweet time, and took her pleasure completely. She came three times, using my tongue, my hands, and toys.

By the end, I was floating on a sea of love and closeness intermixed with lust and surrender. I wanted to do anything for her and I felt very close to her.

Over the next few hours and into the next day or two (into part of today), I kept engaging in stupid nit-picky verbal struggles with Mistress Laura. Finally, she asked me today:

“What is up? Why are you more argumentative than usual?”

I thought for a long time and I replied:

“Every once in a while, when I feel overwhelmed by the feeling of being close to you, I want to cry, and instead, I think I look for anything that can distract you and me. So I nit-pick and get defensive about things.” I swallowed hard.

“Oh. You don't need to do that anymore. I'm not going to reject you. You can feel free to feel close to me.”

I want to cry with joy.

Tasha the "cleaning girl" (part 1)

2006-10-23T15:10:00.000-07:00

Mistress Laura came home from work last Thursday fuming and frustrated. Tasha, a co-worker, had been late in giving her a piece of a project, making extra work for her. When Mistress Laura approached Tasha about this, some snippy words were exchanged. The interaction was not really resolved, and I got to hear all about it. In detail. Every word. Every gesture. Each nuance of voice tone and inflection.

After listening to her go on about Tasha's demeanor, laziness, and overall irresponsibility, I interjected into a small space of silence in the conversation:

“Mistress, is there anything I can do to help?”

She stopped for a second and thought. An evil glint came into her eyes.

“Yes. There is something you can do. I was going to have you do a deep cleaning of my bedroom this weekend anyway. You'll be Tasha the cleaning girl this weekend and I'm going to have fun harassing you, double-checking your work, and punishing you.”

“I am happy to be of service,” I said, grinning.

On Friday, while I was at work, I got my marching orders by Email:

My boy, I want you to stop at a drug store on the way home and get a package of Depends. When you come home, get yourself cleaned up as usual, put on my collar, come find me, kneel and wait. I'll tell you my plans for the weekend, then.

My heart beat a bit faster, but I managed to stay focused on work. Hours later, I was heading home.

The stop at the drug store was a bit embarrassing, but I managed it okay. I just nodded my head and kept looking down when the cashier asked me if I had found everything I was looking for. She rang up the purchase, I paid, and I was on my way home.

When I arrived, I went through my usual routine. I undressed, shaved, showered, put on my Mistress Wife's collar, and quietly knelt at her feet. She was in her office, working. The ritual of getting ready and presenting myself to her puts me into a very docile frame of mind every time. The fact that Mistress is almost always busy when I arrive adds to my anticipation and arousal. This time, I was fixated on my Mistress's pretty feet, while waiting for her to finish what she was doing and turn her attention to me.

After a few minutes, Mistress Laura swiveled around in her chair and tousled my hair playfully.

“Good boy. You wait so nicely. How was your day?“

We chatted for a few minutes, with me kneeling at her feet while she lightly touched my face or my shoulder. The whole time, my Mistress-Lust-Meter was maxed out. :-)

Finally, she told me her plans for the weekend.

“You will wake me up tomorrow with my usual weekend breakfast. Once we have eaten, I want you to get dressed in your pretty clothes and high heels and present yourself to me. At that point, you will be "Tasha the cleaning girl." You are to change the sheets, wash the entire bedding and re-make the bed with the spare sheets, vacuum, do all the laundry, including the bed sheets, fold and put it all away, scrub the bathroom floor, clean out and replenish the kitty litter, and dust the entire bedroom area. I will be spending my time in my office writing, but I'll inspect your work every once in a while, and if Tasha's work is not up to par, she's going to get a serious punishment.”

“Yes, Mistress. Can you give me the list of tasks I am supposed to do on paper?” I was worried that I might forget a detail.

“No. And I won't repeat myself either. Either you were paying attention, or Tasha will have a lot to be punished for.” She smiled and tweaked my nipple, while grabbing my hair and kissing me on the mouth.

The rest of the evening was spent in a very domestic manner: I was her naked slaveboy, serving my fully dressed Mistress Wife dinner and then sitting at her feet while we relaxed and watched TV.

At one point, she made me fetch the Depends and had me lay down on the ground while she put it on me, telling me that while I had the "diaper" on, that I was to still ask to go potty, but that she might just have me go in the diaper. I didn't know what to think or feel about this, but it made my cheeks go pink.

After a bit more relaxing at her feet, Mistress Laura made us go to bed early, telling me that tomorrow would probably be a “big day for my little boy” and she told me that if I needed to go in the middle of the night, I had permission to go in my diaper. This time, her words made me feel very little and very embarrassed.

To be continued.

Update on the reader poll: sexual and power orientation

2006-10-23T13:51:00.000-07:00

Here's an update as of today on the poll I've taken for a while (see the side bar of my blog). In summary, there's almost a 5 to 1 ratio between self-identified submissive men to dominant women.

The graphical breakdown of the data, followed by the numbers.
It's my belief that there are far more dominant women out there, but they are not self-identified as dominant (since to do so is to run counter to social conditioning and the status quo).

Use me, trample me, make me your foot warmer!

2006-10-17T11:52:00.000-07:00

It has been a bit chilly at night recently.

When it's just my Mistress Wife and me at home, I am naked, wearing only her collar. Mistress likes watching me naked, as I run around doing my house chores. She says I'm much more manageable when I am either naked or dressed in frilly girl lingerie. I don't know if that's really true, but I do know that being naked around my fully dressed Wife feels right to me.

Last night, after I had finished most of what she had assigned me for the day, Mistress walked into the room and said,

“slaveboy, I need a hot washcloth, then a foot rub. Then, you are to come to bed and be my heater.”

“Yes, Ma'am!” I responded and put one of the soft face towels under running hot water as I went into her bedroom to turn down the sheets, lower the lights, and to set up the hand lotion where she expects it to be. After the room was set up the way she liked it, I went back and retrieved the (now very hot) face towel and wrung it out. I went back into the bedroom and knelt in my position, waiting for her to join me.

“What a good boy,” she warmly cooed as she entered her bedroom a minute later. Hearing her pleased voice made my already hard cock twitch. I am so hopelessly in lust with her.

She sat on the edge of the bed and I gave her the hot washcloth. She wiped her face, making moaning noises of pleasure, then she threw the warm wet towel on my shoulder. I placed the wet towel to the side and I grabbed the bottle of hand lotion, starting to rub the lotion into her feet.

I love giving my Wife foot rubs. In truth, I love doing anything for her that involves touching her body: foot rubs, backrubs, clipping her toenails, literally anything.

I have learned that being her slaveboy means that my emotions are transparent to her. It's not just the physical nakedness that creates a certain obvious transparency (there is no way for me to hide my arousal); it's also the mental and emotional vulnerability, the openness that I crave and that my Owner/Wife demands.

As I was rubbing her feet, making sure to massage her heel area, her in-step, and letting my hands do their magic, I was also breathing heavier, feeling more and more aroused, and dropping further into feeling so good at just being used in this way. She looked at me very intently and smiled warmly, saying “You love doing this so much, don't you? Will you ever tire of this?”

“I don't think I ever will, Mistress.” I thought back to how this routine has evolved over time, but the rituals are essentially the same. I love the consistency, and each time I go through it, I feel the same feelings, sometimes with greater intensity. The feelings are variations of warmth, caring, being loved, lust, and above all, a delicious sense of surrender in the here and now. This heady mixture is an everyday experience for me and far surpasses anything I ever felt in any “equal relationship.”

When I was done with her feet, she crawled into the bed and just looked at me for a second, kneeling by the side. She patted the bed, which was my signal to hop on.

“My feet are cold, slaveboy. Here's what you're going to do. I want you to crawl under the covers, all the way to the edge of the bottom of the bed, and you will be my foot warmer.”

Her bed is a California King bed and I was surprised to see that I pretty much fit sideways at the bottom few inches of the bed. I am a petite man and my Mistress is taller than me.

If you can imagine it, I was under a sheet, thin blanket and large down blanket, sideways, across the bottom of the bed. She was laying in the bed normally, stabbing her freezing cold feet into my crotch, laying them across my very hard cock.

“That feels good,” she would say as she pushed her sole into my naked and shaved pubic region, or she moved her other foot onto my stomach. She kept pushing and prodding my body with her feet as I lovingly held her toes with my hands and moaned in absolute blissful pleasure at so obviously being used in such a simple way.

After about fifteen minutes, her feet were toasty warm and she announced, “Okay, slave. Get back up here and cuddle me,”

“Do I have to, Mistress? Can't I sleep like this at your feet all night?” I was still swimming in my feelings of objectification and feeling so wonderfully used, and reliving her moans of pleasure at digging her feet into me.

She just laughed and promised that she would do this again sometime and maybe I could be her foot-warmer for a few hour nap at some later point. I crawled back up and spooned her from behind. She wiggled her ass into my rock hard penis, telling me that I made a nice foot warmer, and slowly we fell asleep together.

When power transfer goes beyond fantasy

2006-10-12T12:58:00.000-07:00

I've been very busy with projects the last two weeks. Projects at work for my employer, and projects at home, for my Mistress Wife.

At home, practically every second of every day has been taken up with extra projects: moving rooms, cleaning closets, re-arranging the garage, making a new workout space. I have been doing these tasks in addition to all the housework which I do routinely: cooking, cleaning, laundry, driving Mistress Laura, and getting my kids to their various events.

In order to motivate me, Mistress teases me mercilessly as I go about my tasks (whenever possible, naked with her collar on) and she promises extra special duties and tasks when I finish large chunks of her To-Do list. One might think that this would be a submissive fantasy come true, but the emotions I feel while going through this are all over the map.

A few nights ago, on Monday night, after I had served dinner and cleaned up, Mistress set me up with the extra task of making a portion of a one of her work-related web sites functional. Since this is part of what I do at work, I thought to myself “No problem!” and set about the task. I was also happy to be given a break from the mostly physical labor I had been doing over the weekend.

On this evening, Mistress presented me with a list of functions she wanted to be operational and stated “If you get all of this working, I'm going to let you lick my pussy for a long time tonight.”

With the reward in front of me, and what looked like an easy task ahead, I set out to finish in record time. Oh how wrong I was.

By around 11PM (very late for me), I had hit some roadblocks, even as I had made huge progress. I had spent the last couple of hours being side-tracked by a minor misbehavior and had probably wasted some time.

Even so, I was still hopeful that Mistress would be lenient and allow me to get my reward (some fun time and play with her) and let me extend her deadline. Oh how wrong I was.

I instant-messaged her with my suggestion of extending the deadline and letting me have some fun and play. Her response to me, verbatim, was:

“No. No. I told you what was needed. You told me that you were trying to fix this minor annoying issue and it looks like you got side-tracked. I can't have that. You will continue to work on this. No. You don't get to change the deadline. I need this prototype up now. Keep working.”

To say that her response was disappointing to me misses the mark. My feelings were intense and varied. I felt like I had been punched in the gut. I felt like crying. I got angry. I felt like just stopping, becoming depressed, and going to bed. I was so looking forward to some fun pussy-licking time with my Mistress Wife, and I had been working so hard.

“Yes Ma'am,”

I swallowed the lump in my throat and took a deep breath.

If I thought this out logically, there was nothing unreasonable in my Mistress holding me accountable and pushing me to produce results for her. In fact, if she had given in to my demand, it would only have taught me that her deadlines are just words and that my own sense of what was important (or interesting to fix) takes precedence over her stated outcomes.

I had no choice but to keep working. As the realization that I had no choice sank into my awareness, something interesting happened. First, I was acutely aware of how awful I felt: I was dead tired. Bleary eyed-tired. I felt frustrated and pushed. The lump in my throat was still there.

and...

There was an over-arching sense of peace. I was doing exactly what my Mistress wanted me to do. And slowly, I realized that it was what I wanted to do... What I needed to do. I chose this.

This realization brought with it a surge of energy and focus as I dropped my resistance and surrendered to what I was already doing. I was hit with inspirations and each of the technical problems fell by the wayside. At around 3AM, the job was done and I was able to check off all the requirements that my Mistress Wife had given me.

I slept for a few hours and I drove Mistress Laura to her work that morning. I walked her to her office and we talked a bit. I got to tell her that I had completed her task, and that I was very happy to have done it.

She told me:

“I never doubted that you would. I did feel badly about telling you "No", however.”

I assured her then, “You did the right thing, Mistress. I loved the fact that even though I felt like shit, I was disappointed and very frustrated, I kept going, because you said so.”

At that, she beamed, cupped my head in her hands, kissed me, and said “Good boy. You'll get your reward tonight.”

I did get my reward that night (Tuesday). I knelt by the bed and I buried my face between her glorious legs, licking and smelling and sucking while she told me I was a good boy. That was just icing on the cake, though. I had handled a personal obstacle. In a completely non-sexual context, I had gone past “I don't wanna!!!” and surrendered to Her judgment, her whim, her dictate. I was very proud of myself, kneeling there, licking and inhaling her sweet sweet juices.

I shudder to think of what I would have felt like if I had just given up.

The chauffeur

2006-10-05T14:35:00.000-07:00

When it's possible, I love driving Mistress Laura to work.

Last week, after her customary backrub and footrub before going to sleep for the night, Mistress Laura told me:

“Tomorrow morning, when you pick me up from work, I want you dressed in one of your nice suits. Be sure to be early and waiting for me. Since you're my driver, I want you to look the part.”

The next morning, I got up early and set aside my dark suit with a black tie and white button-down shirt. I did my morning routine for my Mistress Wife: serving her breakfast, making sure her towel was in place for her shower, helping her get dressed. Then I got dressed in the white shirt and suit pants, nice shoes.

I hung the jacket and tie up on a coat hook in the car. I came back and placed her briefcase and papers into the car while she did some last minute Emails, and then I escorted her to the car, opening the door for her and waiting till she signaled that it was okay to close it.

I drove her to work in silence, while she rested. Then, I went to my workplace.

All day long, all I could think about was how fun it was going to be to pick her back up at work. I did my own work, but kept watching the clock. I did not want to be late.

Finally, the moment came. I packed up my laptop and papers and went back to the car. I put on the black tie and the suit jacket and got behind the wheel. I then put on the sunglasses and the ear-piece (bluetooth wireless headset) that I had stashed in the front suit pocket and started driving.

Mistress Laura works at a local college. I drove the car in and parked in a loading zone close to the front of the campus. Then I got out and stood at attention next to the car, waiting.

Imagine the scene: You are at a sprawling college campus where there are many buildings separated by trees and landscaping. There's a silver Lexus mid sized SUV, with a man in a dark suit, sunglasses, waiting at attention near the curb out in front of the administration building.

I was about fifteen minutes early. I was subjected to many curious stares as faculty and students went about their business on campus, going to their classes or offices.

Two women who were walking down the path looked over at me and one said to the other:

“It looks like someone's getting picked up.”

The other one looked me up and down and said to the other, jokingly: “I want one.”

I was very nervous. I was sticking out, embarrassed, and, of course, loving every single minute of it. I stayed put.

Finally, after an excruciating number of minutes, Mistress Laura shows up. I walked up to her and took her briefcase and papers and followed behind. As she neared the car, she slowed down and I opened her door for her. I stashed her things in the back and I went around and got behind the wheel.

After we were on the road, Mistress Laura touched my hand and confided in me that she was really embarrassed to be picked up like that, but that it was very fun for her. She thought the sunglasses and the ear-piece were a nice touch. Dramatic and silly at the same time. I grinned wide at her comment.

“I felt like I was the President's daughter, getting picked up by the secret service.”

Great fun. We'll be doing this more regularly, I'm sure.

No, I have not disappeared

2006-10-03T15:02:00.000-07:00

Several people asked, so I am posting a short note here.

I am alive and well and having fun.

The last few days have been filled with non-stop activity (house projects for Mistress Laura, work projects for my employer, family obligations, etc.) and I have not yet had time to catch my breath.

I have also shifted some things with my schedule (I get up another hour earlier) so that I can get a few more things done. As a result of all of this, my blog reading and writing has taken a temporary hit.

I'll be back soon!

Dealing with jealousy, FemDom style

2006-09-27T10:57:00.001-07:00

I admit it. I am a jealous husband. Especially when it comes to Mistress Laura's ex-boyfriends, I am ungracious and pathetically insecure. I fret and I sulk and I become a complete pain.

I think part of this stems from an unconscious “ownership” mentality with respect to my Wife. This mentality went unchallenged for all the years that I was the head of the household.

Recently, my jealousy was starting to become an issue.

Mistress Laura has an ex boyfriend, David, on the East Coast. David is married, non-kinky and monogamous. David and Laura have maintained a friendship over the years and they still love each other. David lives close to Mistress Laura's family and is in touch with her brothers and sisters. Over the years, he has become part of my Mistress Wife's extended family.

Because of recent family news (births, illnesses, the usual stuff) Mistress Laura has been spending a couple of hours on the phone, talking with David. I did not like this at all. I was not openly disapproving (I do know my place), but I was grumpy, sullen, mopey. Very attractive behavior, all in all.

She tried talking with me. Here's how one of the early conversations went:

“Tom, do you have a problem with me talking to David as much as I have been? I'm sensing a lot of hostility about the time I'm spending on the phone with him.”

“No, Ma'am.” I said, defensively, reflexively and without much thought. Then, a moment later, I added: “Yes, I feel jealous. There's not much I can do about it, because you obviously have the right to talk to whoever you want, but I don't have to like it.”

“Well, I almost feel bad, talking to David, because you seem so miserable.”

To my Mistress Wife's gracious statement of caring for my feelings, I replied like an oaf: “Whatever. I don't really care. Like I said, I don't have to like it, but you can do what you want.”

In retrospect, I can see that I was not really being a good partner. I just wanted to shut the conversation down and move on, and refused to feel the root feelings. Shut it down, compartmentalize it, let's move on. How stereotypical. :-)

We had a few more conversations. Some of the conversations deteriorated faster than others. In some, I was openly hostile to the topic from the beginning. I kept repeating that “I'm jealous and a bit angry and there's not much I can do about it.” I would leave each conversation more miserable and I don't even want to think what my Wife must have been feeling.

She got tired of dealing with the issue in a vanilla fashion.

Yesterday morning, I was woken up at 5AM with one hand firmly in my hair and my Mistress's other hand grasping my (her!) cock and balls firmly.

“Are you awake yet, slaveboy?”

The shot of adrenaline had certainly woken me up and my cock was instantly hard.

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Good.” She let go of me and motioned for me to kneel on the side of the bed. “David is leaving for work in about an hour. I want you to crawl into the other room, get me the portable phone, and crawl back.”

I did as she commanded, aroused by being ordered around. As I was crawling away, she laughed and commented “cute butt.” that made me feel good. When I brought her the phone, she once again had me kneel beside the bed.

She was sitting on the bed, with me kneeling beside her. She caressed my cheek lovingly, planted her lovely naked feet on the floor, and told me:

“I am going to call David now. You are to be completely silent and kissing my feet the whole time. If I so much as feel bad attitude from you, you will be extremely sorry. Now, slaveboy, start kissing my feet.”

My heart was in my throat and my stomach felt jumbled up with love, adoration, lust. I planted my hands on either side of her feet, and started kissing her feet lovingly. Every once in a while, I would lick a little bit.

She dialed the phone and in a minute was chatting with David. She was joking and laughing and talking with her ex boyfriend while I was naked, my butt in the air, kissing and licking her pretty little feet. My cock was rock hard the whole time. I think the conversation lasted about twenty minutes. I did not feel jealous in the least; I think my mind was incapable of feeling anything other than lust and adoration while I was kissing my Mistress's feet.

When she was done, she pushed the “off” button on the phone and set it aside. She then leaned down and motioned for me to stop and kneel up, cupping my face in her hands, she said to me tenderly, “Now, my cute little slaveboy, that wasn't so bad, was it?” and she reached down and stroked my already rock hard cock.

“No, Mistress, it wasn't bad,” I said, blushing a bit.

She kept stroking me and told me to tell her when I was close to coming. In a few minutes, I was very very close and told her so. She then stopped abruptly.

“You will not be allowed to orgasm today, slaveboy,” she said, looking pleased with the effect she was having on me, “Now, kiss my feet again and crawl back into bed. We're going to cuddle and go back to sleep.”

I planted my lips lovingly on her feet, kissing each foot a few times, and crawled back into bed, where she spooned me from behind. I felt at peace.

Since then, she has re-iterated that she will call David or whomever she wants at any time, and that the least amount of moping or surliness will earn me a severe punishment.

Interestingly, I feel so much more secure than when she was trying to deal with my jealousy in a conventional manner.

More on cuckolding

2006-09-25T11:46:00.000-07:00

Since writing the previous post (“Is she just playing with me?”) I have gotten some very nice comments. One correspondent, DH, wrote me a very nice concerned note privately, saying:

I am against cuckolding in most cases, even though I find the idea of being the so-called bull enormously arousing. I also endorse it in some corrective and advanced-practicioner situations.

Through the net I have “met” many who were happy with the wife having sex outside the marriage. I have “met" some for whom it is a train wreck in real life. Her having more partners for her pleasure need not be an exercise in denial or humiliation for you. They need not be linked at all.

First of all, before I go into this in more detail, I have to say right upfront that right now, I am not emotionally mature enough or enlightened enough to consider being a cuckold husband. Not that it's in my hands at all; if Mistress wanted, she could move me there in no time flat. With that preamble out of the way, I wanted to delve a bit into this particular expression of my Mistress Wife's sexual power over me.

DH's comments were very appreciated, and they caused me to reflect on the core of the erotic attraction to being denied sex even as my Wife could fuck whomever she wishes, however she wishes.

Part of my thrill is the denial, the humiliation, the power trip for my wife. I like the idea of inherent unfairness, unreasonableness, inequality; for example, my wife controls all the money and can do pretty much whatever she wants. I, on the other hand, always have to ask for permission for my non-routine purchases. She can have me pleasure her to multiple orgasms, then she can roll over and fall asleep. She can masturbate anytime she wants to. I, on the other hand, need her permission before I can even touch myself for any purpose other than cleaning.

The bottom line is: Her control makes me happy. Even if I am frustrated in that moment.

DH continued in his message:

I would point out that in many if not most of these happy couples the hubby remains the focus of the wife's actions and her other Lovers are no more than fucktoys or friends with benefits.

This is an interesting idea, but misses the emotional masochism inherent in the scenarios that attract me (like a moth to a flame). The fantasy, in its basest form, involves the dominant sadist wife inflicting physical and emotional pain on her submissive husband, while enjoying herself to the hilt with another man.

If the submissive husband retains the most vaunted role, the “true love” spot in the wife's heart, then he is secure... But the eroticism of the situation revolves around his insecurity.

As sick and twisted as that may seem, the danger, the insecurity, the abject shame and humiliation are at the core of the “enjoyment” of such an experience.

If I was being cuckolded, I know I would be miserable but I would also be turned on by such a flagrant display of power by my Mistress Wife.

My Wife has, from time to time, made me fall on my knees in pure adoration and lust simply by entertaining the idea that she may, some year in the future, choose to divorce me and keep my as simply her slave. That scenario pushes the same buttons: I would be insecure, no longer legally joined with her as an equal in the eyes of the law, and totally dependent on her. I would not be her submissive husband, just her slaveboy, stripped of all rights.

Now, this is where someone goes ahead and sends me a link to husband abuse information, right? :-)

Is she just playing with me?

2006-09-21T09:35:00.000-07:00

Those of you who have been paying attention know that I am not into the idea of being cuckolded. At the same time, my Mistress Wife and I have had some conversations about this and I can't really tell whether she is just messing with my mind or if she is serious.

The other evening, I took my required shower before bed and presented my nude body to my Mistress for inspection. I asked my nightly question: "May I sleep in your bed tonight, Mistress?" and she said yes. So I hopped into the bed with her. She was dressed in her usual nighty and underwear. She spooned me from behind for a while and then we switched, with me spooning her from behind, and that's how we fell asleep.

I half-awoke in the very early morning with a raging hardon pressed into her underwear. I was aware that I had been rubbing myself into her and there was some precum oozing from me.

"Did you come?" my Mistress Wife asked.

"No." I answered her and slowed down my rubbing.

It's been a while since I've had any release. The last couple of times that Mistress Laura has played with me, she has had me service her with my mouth and with toys to powerful body shaking orgasms while denying me any release. It's her right to expect that kind of service from me without any thought of reciprocation and I am actually very happy that she exercises that right; the fact that she comes when and how she wants and I only get to come with her permission is an important mark of my YMB relationship.

"You can put a condom on and continue to rub yourself against me like that if you want to come," she told me.

I thought about it for a fraction of a second and said, "Thank you Mistress, but I would rather pleasure you." I had been having a very interesting dream, and I was still half in the dream.

"Okay," Mistress Laura said and she rubbed her ass into my crotch. I rubbed myself into her some more while letting my consciousness slip back into dreamland. In a few minutes, I was asleep again.

Later in the day, I tell Mistress Laura about my very erotic dream in the morning. The dream went like this:

I am at home, and Mistress Laura comes home, wearing a black dress, lipstick, eye shadow, perfume. There is a guy trailing behind her. He is taller than me, and slightly more muscular, with curly brown hair, sporting a mustache and beard. She motions towards the guy and tells me: "Go get some vodka, kalhua, and milk. I want some drinks and I intend to play around with Joe."

I obey, going to a local liquor store. By the time I come back home, she is already fooling around with this guy, kissing, groping, limbs intertwined. I put the drinks on the counter and watch as she pointedly strips Joe naked and starts fondling him, making him hard.

Looking at me, while fondling Joe's hard member, she says: "Strip, slaveboy, and come here and kiss my neck from behind."

I hurriedly undress and start rubbing myself on my Mistress Wife from behind. She is still mostly dressed. I am kissing her shoulder, licking the nape of her neck, and Joe is rubbing himself on her front, his hands roaming all over her body. At one point, he and she are french kissing and his hand is under her dress, massaging her beautiful breasts.

Next, she takes both of us into her bedroom and ends up on top of Joe, bouncing up and down on his cock, while I am licking and kissing her breasts and sucking on her nipples. She comes hard, while twisting Joe's nipple with one hand and grabbing my hair and pushing my face into her chest with the other hand.

"That was nice, boys." Mistress Laura says, while rolling off the bed and putting a robe on. She has me bring drinks for the three of us. That was the end of the dream.

Mistress Laura was thrilled and amused at the dream. She probed, "So, are you saying that you wouldn't mind if I brought another boy to the house?"

I answered truthfully: "Well, it was a dream, Mistress. But..." I looked down, blushing. "If you wanted to do something like that and prepped me for it, I would do anything to please you."

She smiled at me and caressed my cheek. I sank down to my knees and she tousled my hair, putting my head in her lap and running her fingers along my neck and shoulders.

"Good boy." She chuckled. "I find it interesting that neither you nor this Joe character got to orgasm, and that I was clothed for much of the dream."

Then, she thought for a second, and said: "That was a good dream, except for one thing."

"What's that, Mistress?"

"You were far too involved in the dream," She said, while caressing my hair.

She continued: "Here's what I would have done. I would have had you strip and kneel naked outside the door of my bedroom, maybe with some clothespins on your nipples. I would tell you to be quiet, and if you do want to make noises, you have to whine like a puppy. Then I would have taken Joe inside and closed the door."

"Mistress, I know I would be kneeling there, listening to you and whining to be let in," I said, my heart in my throat while my cock was rock hard from imagining what she was saying.

"Yes, you would probably be an ill behaved puppy. I would open the door then, clip a leash to your collar, and bring you inside."

I was breathing shallowly, swimming in her words, not knowing whether any of this could happen in real life, but not caring... Her tone of voice was telling me that she was turned on by the idea of humiliating me in this way, and I was turned on by that.

"I would take the penis gag out and force it into your mouth, clipping it in place..." She continued. This time, she had grabbed my hair possessively. I was emotionally miserable and painfully hard.

"Then I would force your face to the floor near the foot of the bed, where I would attach the leash to one of the legs of the bed, with maybe about a foot worth of slack. You would be forced to kneel, with your face on the floor, gagged, at the foot of the bed... Listening to me having fun with some other guy."

She caressed my head and neck for a few seconds more, letting the silence settle. I was feeling the charged sexual electricity of the moment, and the delicious sting of emotional pain... "Oh no, Mistress... I would do anything to please you," I remember thinking in that moment, afraid.

"Kiss my feel, slaveboy," She finally commanded. Then she asked me about my chores for the day and we shifted to other topics.

I have since replayed the above conversation in my mind many times. When I ask her whether or not she is serious, she just smiles and says, "If I was serious, there's nothing you can do about it, is there?"

Gulp.

Busy boy and some quotes

2006-09-18T06:55:00.000-07:00

The last few days have been busy, and I've been unusually swamped with work, so I've neglected to post much. I'll be writing more over the next few days. Here are a few fun quotes from my Mistress Wife:

In the middle of a conversation where I am starting to get unnecessarily argumentative, while taking out her "little black book" (where she writes down transgressions that she punishes me for later):

"Would you please repeat that, slaveboy?"

Talking to some friends in my presence:

"He's just a little boy at heart who needs guidance and discipline. That's what I'm here for."

Talking about her control over our sex life:

"You guys always want what you can't have. If I take control of not just your orgasms, but also ration your chances to lick my pussy, you crave it. I get the double benefit of not just getting you to do what I want, but also rewarding you with my pleasure."

Discussing our relationship with me:

"FLR? LFA? TPE? ABC? Whatever!!! What we have is a YMB. You're My Bitch!"

Fiction: Fully Under Her Spell (Hypnosis, Domination)

2006-09-12T07:10:00.000-07:00

[ed: The following is a work in progress. Feedback and encouragement to continue are welcome.]

I don't really know what came over me. I guess in some ways, I was just testing the boundaries, seeing how far my wife would let me slide. Her parents were visiting from the East Coast and she was going to be spending the day with them, sight seeing.

I was supposed to be cleaning house. Instead, I had spent the day sitting on the couch, drinking beers and watching ESPN. The coffee table had four empty beer cans on it and I vaguely remembered that there was a fifth one around someplace. There was a cheesy greasy plate of nacho crumbs on the couch next to me, the remnant of the nachos and cheese plate I had microwaved and eaten a couple of hours before.

I was wearing my comfortable sweats and a dirty T-shirt, still buzzed from my last beer, when she walked in. The look on her face was priceless! I'd like to say it was worth it, but it wasn't.

She was stunned, of course. I had always done exactly what she had asked me to do, without complaining; in fact, I had been eager to do it. This day, for whatever reasons, I just didn't. Like an old ratty sweater, I had slipped on the comfortable habits of my bachelor days: spectator sports, beers, greasy snacks. The only thing missing was my college buddies to play billiards with; of course, the bililards table was sold off cheap at the first garage sale that we had soon after we got married.

After a few moments of just looking at me, she asked in a calm voice "Is this how you've been spending your day?"

"Yes honey... I just thought I'd watch a little TV, and then I got sucked in and lost track of time," I was a little sheepish, but not really sorry. I had a fun day being a lazy slob.

I expected her to get angry, and I am guessing that she was angry, but she didn't show it. Instead, she just sat down next to me and put her hand on my thigh.

"You've had a hard couple of days, haven't you?" She began. Her hand was lightly stroking my leg from just above the knee to right below my hips. "And I'm guessing that somehow you needed to do this... Just sitting on the couch, like you are right now, and watching TV, like you are right now, and feeling my hand on your thigh... like you are right now... listening to the sound of my voice... like you are right now... Feels good, doesn't it?"

I was almost falling asleep, since her voice was so soothing and melodic. It was like all my attention was slowly being focused on her hand and unexpectedly, all my defensiveness was melting away. She had crept into my world slowly and without much resistance.

"You like the way you are feeling right now, don't you my boy?" She continued. I nodded.

"That's right..." She continued. "You know... It's easy to feel good... And you can stay right here... on this spot..."

She tapped my thigh lightly with her hand and the bottom fell out of my mind; I suddenly felt unmoored, floating. My breathing was deep and regular, and I felt as if I was in two places at once.

"That's right... You only need to stay right here... Only going into trance... as quickly as you feel good... It feels good to let go... letting go of control is why I am here, isn't it?"

She stood in front of me and tapped my right hand and then my left hand.

"You're going deeper and deeper now... I wonder which of your hands, my little boy, is going to raise up, almost of its own accord... Can you feel it lifting? Just a little bit? As you breathe in... Can you feel it lifting? Almost like a helium balloon is tied to it?... Or maybe like you have a question in class... Maybe you are curious too, about which one or both of your hands are going to raise up... do you want to ask your teacher something, my boy? Who is in control? I wonder... as I talk to each of both of you... It might surprise you... or not... maybe you can begin to sense it now... Oh my! It looks like both of your hands are lifting... up... up... UP... That's a good boy... Who is in control?"

To my amazement, both of my hands were raised as high as they could go, above my head. She grabbed the t-shirt I was wearing and pulled it off, while continuing to talk. I felt as if I could not move my arms from their position above my head. In fact, I was beginning to suspect that I could not move any part of my body.

With another light touch on my shoulder, she had me leaning backwards into the couch so that she could pull the sweats off. I was naked, immobile, and she was still fully dressed from her night out.

Her patter continued and I felt more and more relaxed, still floating, feeling like all my attention had become focused on her and her voice.

"And now, my boy... It's time for me to have some fun at your expense..."

She moved behind me and placed my hands together, where they seemed to stay, and continued to weave her spell.

"I'm sure you've begun to notice your awkward position... Sitting naked on the couch... with your hands above your head... You might even try to move... but you can't, can you?"

I tried to move my fingers and pull my hands apart. I couldn't do it!

"Uh... Ma'am... What are you doing to me?" I managed to ask.

"Part of you knows exactly what I am doing, my boy," she said. "You can't move... You are helplessly under my spell... You like that, I know." She glanced down at my penis, which had become completely erect. She walked around the couch, surveying the room. I tried again to pull my arms apart, but I couldn't. There were no ropes, but her hold over me was stronger than any ropes or chains.

To Be Continued?

September-Eleventh-Fatigue. Am I the only one?

2006-09-11T22:46:00.000-07:00

This post isn't about my relationship.

I know what I want to say is probably not politically correct... Especially since I had some friends who died on this day five years ago at the hand of Islamo-Fascists...

The media is currently doing its 24 hour cry-fest of personal stories aimed at the viewer's feelings and attempting to evoke grieving and healing. Am I the only one who is sick and tired of it?

Personally, I moved past the shock and the grieving a year or two ago, and I've been coasting at the "Let's just kick some ass" stage. Am I the only one who feels this way?

After much work, I get to wear girlie things again!

2006-09-11T10:12:00.000-07:00

In "Drilling, Training and Treats" I talked about how I lost the right to wear any girlie clothes or my party shoes. Mistress Laura has been deliberate and methodical and has used the extra leverage of knowing that even though I am embarrassed by wearing the items of lingerie and the high heels, I crave being able to wear them for her.

So, this last weekend started out as a lot of my weekends with Mistress Laura do: She told me when to be home on Friday and that she had a list of items for me to take care of. She also informed me that we were going to do an attitude adjustment session sometime this weekend, but that the timing was up to her. It might happen on Friday evening or it might happen on Sunday. I don't like ambiguity, but it's really her perogative, and I can't complain. :-)

When I got home from work, she told me to strip, get myself cleaned up (quick shower) and present myself to her and she would tell me her plans. So, I did as I was told, kneeling in front of her with nothing on but her collar and my wedding ring. Incidentally, she has taken to calling my wedding ring my "man collar"; she wears no wedding ring herself.

"You've been a very good boy all week," She began. "I've been thinking about letting you wear some of your girlie clothing again. Do you think you deserve it?"

"Only if you think so, Mistress," I said. I've learned not to be too eager or too cock-sure in my answers. Whether or not I deserve something is entirely up to her, and I have tried to rid myself of notions of "fairness" based on a sense of entitlement in my relationship with my Mistress Wife. She likes it better that way.

She smiled at that answer and told me that I would get to wear the softest silkiest black panties with lace tonight, while I was cleaning house, and she also told me that we were going to be rearranging a couple of rooms. So, I happily went and got the little black "Jockey" brand black lacey panties and put them on.

The rest of the weekend was spent in heightened anticipation of my upcoming attitude adjustment session and being bossed around by my lovely wife, while wearing girlie panties.

She brought up the attitude adjustment session a few times, saying that while I had generally been good this last week, I still needed to be spanked, and that she would keep track of minor transgressions and add 5-10 strokes to the caning that she planned to give me. This had the effect of making me blush with shame and desire every time she mentioned it.

Meanwhile, she worked me. I was cleaning, moving boxes, rearranging pieces of furniture, emptying and packing things all weekend, all the while cooking for her, bringing her drinks, giving her shoulder rubs and foot rubs at her whim.

On Sunday, she finally told me that she will actually get to give me my beating that evening. I was to get completely naked, lay out her paddle and cane, and to get my high heel shoes and put them on the bed, next to the paddle and cane, and be waiting on all fours on the floor in the bedroom.

I was tired, but I was aroused by the entire process: putting out her paddle and cane, putting my high heeled shoes on the bed, and waiting on all fours for her. By the time she came into the bedroom, I was rock hard and producing precum.

She touched my hard cock with her toes and chuckled, then ordered me onto the bed.

"Since you've been such a good girl this weekend, I'm going to let you wear your pretty shoes again. But only your shoes." She told me, pointing to my shoes. "I want you naked for me tonight."

I felt very happy to be able to wear the high heeled shoes for her.

Next, she pronounced that she would give me 50 strokes of the cane. I don't know why, but I usually can withstand a lot higher numbers, but this time, the fifty swats were hitting my pain tolerance (maybe I was feeling anxious or otherwise not up to par).

At the end of the beating, I slid off the bed and kissed her feet, saying "Thank you Mistress." I felt peaceful.

We ended the weekend by watching a DVD. Mistress Laura sat in her chair, and I was naked, except for my party shoes on, sitting on the floor at her feet.

Weekday domestic routine and a question for my readers

2006-09-08T13:18:00.000-07:00

It's an interesting feeling being in the background. In my professional life, I am very much up front and center stage. I manage a team of software developers and I am often very opinionated and authoritative. In contrast, in my life with Mistress Laura, I am happily in the background.

I thought I would give a peek into my weekday routines, and ask my readers a question that I have been thinking about that relates to my routine.

Yesterday was a typical day. I woke up at 6AM, fed the cats, let the dog out, did some writing and then prepared breakfast for my Mistress. I brought her breakfast, kneeling by the side of the bed while she and I talked for a bit, about whatever she wanted to talk about.

I made the bed when she was done, took care of the kitty litter, garbage and recycling, cleaned the kitchen, vacuumed her office space, and went to work. This may seem like a lot, but since I have become a neat-freak, there's not much to clean most of the time (I am constantly picking up, instead of letting things pile up).

In the afternoon, after working on various work related projects and leading my teams, holding meetings and dealing with outside vendors, I get into my car and drive home. Mistress is not home yet, but I know she will be seeing a couple of clients this evening, so I stay out of the way.

She arrives home and says hello to me. I greet her with a kiss and her favorite ginger ale on ice. She goes off into her office to prepare for her clients while I continue to clean, do a load of laundry, and prepare dinner.

Her clients come and she meets with them. While they conduct business, I cook our planned meal of steak (marinated in red wine and cooked with black peppers) and baked potatoes and some vegetables. I set the table and light a candle so that when Mistress Laura is done, she and I have a nice meal.

When we are done, I feed the dog and clean up the dishes while she catches up on her mail and reading. With the kitchen back to the way I like it, I refill Mistress's drink and we retire into the living room, for some TV. She sits on the couch, while I sit at her feet. Sometimes I fold laundry while we watch television. On this night, I didn't have much laundry, so I massaged and kissed her feet instead.

After watching TV, usually we retire to the bedroom, where I give my Mistress Wife either a back massage or a thorough foot massage with lotion and we both go to bed.

So, here's my question: Before I became my wife's slaveboy, I used to do far less work on a daily basis and yet I was more tired and cranky. Now, even with the never-ending housework, and all the things I do during the day, I am happy. I would say that I am even low-level excited/ecstatic all the time. Do my readers have an explanation for this or have similar experiences to share?

I'm looking forward to reading your opinions and stories.

Vulnerability and the Myth of the True Dominant

2006-09-06T17:42:00.000-07:00

Just as there are unrealistic ideas out there about what is a "True Submissive", there are also unhelpful beliefs floating around the collective consciousness regarding the "True Dominant".

My friend Richard wrote in his blog entry Dommes and Vulnerability about how Dommes are women first with all the softness and need for emotional support implied. In the ensuing discussion, Richard followed up by saying:

It was a real surprise to hear from a few women who feared allowing their humanity to come through might diminish their femdomly sex appeal.

That was a real surprise to me, too, but I think that the women are responding to something; they are responding to an imaginary construct of the True Dominatrix. Some of the attributes that this mythical creature possesses are:

Ultimate detachment. Nothing the submissive does or says will move her, unless she chooses.
Mind reading abilities. She can see into the submissive's soul and knows his deepest desires without him saying a word.
She is a true sadist, and enjoys torturing him primarily because it thrills her.
She is always in control of her emotions (always calm and logical, except when she needs to be angry and strict).
She knows the perfect thing to say or do to her submissive, always.

I don't know about you, but the fantasy image seems cold and flat to me. It almost feels like a male image (always logical, detached, methodical) superimposed on the feminine. It certainly does not appeal to me in a real life relationship. It feels almost psychopathic, and while that may have certain charms in fantasy, it's not my idea of someone I want to give myself to.

My Mistress is a real person. She has her moods. She rages, she cries, she gets discouraged and depressed from time to time. She also laughs, has a great sense of humor, possesses a witchy intuition that a lot of women share, and is wise in many ways. She is not the cardboard cutout of my juvenile fantasies.

To those dominant women who are worried that showing your humanity will make you less of a dominant, or less appealing, I say: It is your humanity, your vulnerability, your grace and softness and your sadness and tears mixed in with your womanly charms and strength that brings me and a lot of other submissive men to our knees!

I know that if I want to really serve Mistress Laura, sometimes I have to just hold her and listen to her. When she cries, when she is vulnerable, when she is sad, she is still in charge, and I am still her loyal and devoted servant.

Drilling, training and treats

2006-09-05T11:41:00.000-07:00

In order to keep our dog's obedience skills fresh, I have to constantly drill her. I make her heel, sit, stay, roll over, bark on command, etc. When she does what I want, I give her treats. In some ways, it is the same with a Lady and her slaveboy, though the behaviors may be a bit more complex. :-)

On Labor Day (yesterday) Mistress and I were sitting down to go over the list of meals for this week and the chores that need to be done. I was about to go and do the grocery shopping when Mistress Laura surprised me.

"After you do the shopping, get dressed in one of your pretty outfits and go and do a deep cleaning of the Mistress bathroom."

"Mistress, I already cleaned it well a few days ago," I complained. I guess my mind was not quite in the right space. In retrospect, I should have just enjoyed the humiliation and the opportunity to do something for her and said simply "Yes, Ma'am."

She just looked at me and said "Do you need some motivation?"

"No, Mistress," I said and left for the grocery store. As chess grandmaster Aaron Nimzovich once remarked, a threat is often more powerful than its execution.

I got back about an hour later, and after unloading the shopping, got into the frilly black lace panties and the black lace top with the spaghetti straps. Just putting these articles of clothing on starts to melt my boundaries. The feel and sounds of the lace against my body, and the sight of myself dressed in the outfit, with Mistress's collar on, turns me on by association. By the time I had put on the high heeled shoes, I had a raging hardon.

Mistress requires that I tuck my cock between my legs so I look like a girl with a shaved pussy, hold my legs closed, and walk over to her for inspection whenever I wear my cleaning outfit. It was hard to do (with my already excited state), but I walked carefully to the other room and stood up straight for her.

"Very nice. My cleaning girl is back," She petted the front of the panties, then with a slap on the ass sent me on my way. "Tell me when you're done with the bathroom, slavegirl, so I can inspect your work. You know what happens if you do a sloppy job."

So, I walked carefully, keeping myself tucked, got the bucket of cleaning supplies and knelt down to re-clean the bathroom. As with a lot of activities, once you begin, it's easy and even therapeutic. I found some spots that could use more scrubbing, emptied the trash can, re-filled the toilet paper, tidied up, and made sure that everything was gleaming white.

When I was done, I walked back to Mistress Laura, knelt in front of her, and waited.

She turned around after a couple of minutes and said, "Finished cleaning?" She caressed my cheek and shoulders, touching the straps of my silky/lacey top, and said "Good girl. Let's go see your work."

Of course, I was in heaven. I don't even know why I was complaining before. I followed as she made her inspection. I had a mental image of how happy the little dog is when I do some training and drilling of her basic obedience set, with her little tail wagging.

"Good work, slave. You can be trained," She said. Then she surprised me again by telling me to "Go turn down the bed, take off your heels, and kneel by the bed. I'll be there in a few minutes."

So, I turned down the bed and waited by the side, in my spot. My hardon throbbed, surrounded by the lacey underwear.

After what seemed like an eternity to my over-excited mind (it was probably no more than a few minutes), Mistress returned and sat on the bed. She touched my face lovingly and said:

"Have you been a good little slavegirl?"

"Yes Ma'am, I have," I said.

"Didn't you enjoy making Mommy's toilet spotless?" She cooed, once again, lightly brushing my neck and shoulders.

I had a sinking feeling in my stomach as my eyes got blurry for a second and I could feel pre-cum starting to ooze from the tip of my penis. Yes, even though I had complained, I had indeed enjoyed it. "Yes, Mistress, I did."

"Good girl," her fingers danced on my skin, sending shivers as she lightly moved around my nipple, never touching it. Then, she lay back and flipped up her skirt; she was not wearing any underwear.

"Come on up here, slaveboy, and get your treat for being such an obedient husband," she pulled me up onto the bed and allowed me to lick her to an orgasm.

Drilling, training, treats; I was very happy to be serving her and simultaneously very very frustrated.

There was one mishap along the way. As she was having me lick her sweet pussy, she was weaving her usual tales; stories that transport me... Sometimes I keep track of what she is saying, but other times I simply lose track... This time, she kept telling me "Don't you dare come!" as part of her verbalizations... For some reason, every time she says this, my cock gets harder and my emotions get all jumbled up.

Well, at some point, and without warning, I found myself just going over the edge. It was like I was watching myself in some dissociated state, as it happened, like I wasn't even there.

Then, I realized: I had just come without permission. I was mortified and almost started to cry.

She cut through my emotions with a cruel laugh and said: "Keep licking me, bitch, that little act just gives me an excuse to punish you later... Keep servicing me. You really have very little control, don't you?"

So I re-focused and I managed to bring her to an orgasm after a little bit.

When I was cleaning up afterwards, she told me to strip out of the girlie clothes.

"You won't get to wear any of your pretty outfits until I say so. I want you completely naked now... Until you gain a little bit more control, you are banned from wearing any of the pretty outfits, or those cute little shoes."

I felt sad and wanted to do whatever I could to earn the privilege to wear my outfits again.

Now, in retrospect, I think that is interesting: The same things that I swore I was not interested in (dressing in feminine outfits) have now been firmly turned into rewards and treats.

Drill, train, treat, repeat.

I've created a delicious monster

2006-09-02T16:01:00.000-07:00

Mistress Laura and I were relaxing on her bed, when she had me turn over so she could inspect my back and ass. She ran her hand over my back, and patted my bum.

Of course, I was loving it. I love being touched. Her soft feathery touches turn me on. Who am I kidding? Any kind of touch from my Mistress turns me on. Stroke me. Touch me. Slap me. Punch me. I'll take anything from Her and say "Thank you Ma'am."

"Hmmm... You have no marks left from our last time..." She said, running her hands over my ass and thighs.

"I'm going to have to do something about that," she said, kissing the side of my face. "Not because you've done anything wrong, but because I like it, and it keeps you in your place. We do have an attitude adjusment session planned for next week..."

I moaned in pleasure at the thought. This was also the most direct expression that she likes marking me. She has since talked about putting a more permanent mark on my body, on my always shaved smooth bikini area.

I hate needles, I don't like pain, and I despise tattoos, but if she were to put a tattoo on me, I would love it.

Song lyrics with FemDom themes

2006-09-02T08:06:00.000-07:00

I was listening to the radio, and Garth Brooks's "Shameless" caught my ear. This song perfectly captures my feelings for my Mistress Wife.

Do you know of any other songs with such overt Fem Dom themes?

For example, for me, the following snippets ring especially true: "oh honey, I don't have a prayer. Every time I see you standin' there, I go down upon my knees." and "I have never let anything have this much control over me. I work too hard to call my life my own. [...] But it's your world now, I can't refuse [...]" and finally, "I'm shameless. I don't have the power now. I don't want it anyhow. So I got to let it go."

Here are the full lyrics:

Well I'm shameless when it comes to loving you
I'll do anything you want me to
I'll do anything at all.

And I'm standing here for all the world to see
Oh baby, that's what's left of me
Don't have very far to fall

You know now I'm not a man who's ever been
Insecure about the world I've been living in
I don't break easy, I have my pride
But if you need to be satisfied

I'm shameless, oh honey, I don't have a prayer
Every time I see you standin' there
I go down upon my knees.

And I'm changing, swore I'd never compromise
Oh, but you convinced me otherwise
I'll do anything you please.

You see in all my life I've never found
What I couldn't resist, what I couldn't turn down
I could walk away from anyone I ever knew
But I can't walk away from you.

I have never let anything have this much control over me
I work too hard to call my life my own
And I've made myself a world and it's worked so perfectly
But it's your world now, I can't refuse
I've never had so much to lose
Oh, I'm shameless.

You know it should be easy for a man who's strong
To say he's sorry or admit when he's wrong
I've never lost anything I've ever missed
But I've never been in love like this.

God It's out of my hands.

I'm shameless, I don't have the power now
I don't want it anyhow
So I got to let it go.

Oh, I'm shameless, shameless as a man can be
You make a total fool of me
I just wanted to you to know.

Oh, I'm shameless, I just wanted you to know
Oh, I'm shameless, Oh, I'm down on my knees

Portable Thinking Pond

2006-08-31T15:26:00.000-07:00

Mistress doesn't have to spank me to keep me under her thumb. Like a good parent, she has many tools at her fingertips.

I just had lunch with Mistress Laura. She and I have lunch together about once a week on most weeks. She works at a local college and I work at a software company, so I usually meet her at the cafeteria on campus. There are usually lots of eighteen and nineteen year olds milling around.

I arrived late and was immediately flustered by her good natured ribbing.

"According to my watch, you are two minutes late," were the first words out of her mouth.

It was obvious that she was just teasing, but I actually blushed and stammered a lame "I'm sorry, Mistress."

"It's okay, my boy. You didn't speed did you?" She asked me.

"No. Of course not. I don't speed," I replied, still feeling off balance.

I am not allowed to speed. Before she laid out that rule, I used to speed around town incessantly, and would get about one speeding ticket per year. Now she tells me that if I ever get a speeding ticket again, Her penalty will be a lot worse than the money and time that the state will extract from me. I have no desire to find out.

It seems to me that she is increasingly comfortable with her authority over me. At lunch, Mistress Laura had me go and get the food while she sat at a table and read, and when I returned, we started to chat. In the middle of the conversation, she said:

"Next Sunday, you are coming with me to a work related volunteering dinner."

"Yes Ma'am" was all I said, but her tone of voice and her certainty went directly to my groin. It was slightly embarrassing.

Like I stated before, we were at a college cafeteria, and there are many eighteen and nineteen year olds running around. Also, at this time of year, they are often scantily clad. One particularly happy and bouncy girl with long blond hair, wearing shorts and a pink little top went cruising by our table. I couldn't help it. I ogled for a split second too long, only to hear:

"Look down, boy. Look down at the table."

I complied, blushing again, my ears red from being caught. I felt like the kid with his hands in the cookie jar, when Mom turns on the kitchen lights in the middle of the night and says "Aha! Caught you, you little brat!"

Then, Mistress went on:

"Put your forearms together in front of you and put your forehead on your arms, and slowly count to ten to yourself."

I put my hands in front of me and put my head on my forearms as she commanded, feeling silly and embarrassed.

"This is your portable thinking pond," She continued in her soothing voice, referring to a Super Nanny episode that we had watched some weeks back; the thinking pond was a place for the kid to sit and think (basically, a "time out").

"Little boys need to be guided, don't they?" She continued to murmur as I silently counted. "They need the help of a strong woman to at least act like gentlemen in public... Isn't that right, my little boy?"

I could finally look up, embarrassed and completely turned on.

"Yes, Mistress."

She can make me feel so small and so ready to please with a look, a touch, a slight change in her voice tone, or by simply looking at me "too long".

Poll: Your sexual and power self-identification

2006-08-30T15:14:00.000-07:00

A simple poll about you. I know that orientation is a continuum, and these categories are somewhat limited, but please answer the poll in the side bar with the one answer that most closely matches what you think.
I'm curious to see the results of this poll over time.

Ordinary Female Led Existence

2006-08-30T13:46:00.000-07:00

Today has been quiet. Even with being allowed release (or maybe painfully forced) this last weekend, there is a background growing hum of desire focused on Mistress Laura.

I was reflecting today on how connected I feel to my Wife, by doing things that I would have rejected in my marriage before it became female led.

For example, in the ordinary course of a day, I get up earlier than my Mistress Wife and I make her breakfast to order. While she eats, I made the bed and clean the kitchen. Sometimes I do a bit of vacuuming. Then I get dressed for work. Most days, I chauffeur her to her work on the way to mine. Sometimes she uses the drive to talk, and other times she simply rests. It's her choice and I love being with her either way. After work, I give her footrubs, fetch her drinks, cook, clean and do the laundry.

In my current mindset, I feel good about all of these routines. By taking care of her in this way, making her life easier, showing her my tangible love, I actually feel closer to her. I do not view love as a quid pro quo, "What can I give so I can get something I want?" Rather, I love the feeling of the outpouring of ordinary everyday little things that I get to do for her.

In my pre-FLR mindset, my attitude would have been "Why shouldn't she do these things for me?" or "What am I going to get out of this?" or, at best, an insistence that I could do this type of service some of the time (maybe on special occasions like anniversaries or birthdays), but it's too unreasonable to expect me to always give like this.

I was independent and alone. Now, I feel like I am intertwined with my Wife; interdependent, loved, loving.

Another paradox: I actually love the "unfairness", the unbending and high expectations. I want to do my best to please her and if it involves some work and perhaps even some suffering, so much the better.

Recently, when I am not with my Wife, I actually ache to be with her. I miss her. Not since the early days of dating her have I actually felt that feeling of longing.

Since she is in charge of if, when or how we have sex (or play), I am perpetually teased, perpetually wanting, always chasing my Mistress, wanting to please her.

This is romance; this is an ordinary female led existence.

My wonderfully cruel Mistress (Part 2)

2006-08-30T11:29:00.000-07:00

I wrote in the first installment about how Mistress Laura used her scheduled discipline session to make her point about cleaning the toilet bowl properly. The next day, Saturday, after doing my usual chores, I was ready to tackle that unfinished business.

Following her instructions, I got myself dressed up in a frilly black top with spaghetti straps, the matching panties, high heeled shoes, and Mistress Laura's leather collar and went to check in with her before beginning the task of cleaning the toilet bowl. She was sitting on the couch, reading. She looked up at the approaching clickety-clack of my high heels and smiled.

"Those heels are even better than a cow bell," she snickered, putting her book down to take a closer look. "Look at you, you are so cute... And with that cock so nice and hard like that... Turn around." I turned in a full circle for her.

She made me spread my legs wider and bend down, with my ass covered by the soft black panties, pointed towards her. She then slowly slid the panties down so they hung midway down my around my thighs. I moaned, and she softly touched my ass and said "Good girl..."

"You make a very nice picture," she stroked the backs of my thighs and pulled the panties back up. Every touch went straight to my penis, increasing my arousal. She then took a couple of hair ties and put my long hair into two pigtails.

"Now, slaveboy, get me my purse." I straightened up and went as quickly as I could and retrieved her purse.

She opened it and took out four wooden clothespins. I had no idea that she kept them there. I think she likes the idea of being able to inflict pain on me wherever we are, by pulling me into a quiet corner, even in the middle of a restaurant.

"Pull up your top, my boy," she said and I knew what was next, of course. She pinched one nipple and placed the clothespin on it, then the other, and she had me pull the top back down over both clothespins. My nipples were hurting a lot at this point, and I was breathing slowly and deliberately.

"Now, pull down your panties, you lazy bitch," She smiled at me sweetly as I pulled down the panties, releasing my hard cock; the head of it was drizzling precum. She grabbed my balls and pulled down the scrotum on each testicle, attaching one clothespin to each. Again, the pain was intense but not as bad as my throbbing nipples. "Now pull them back up."

"Here's what you're going to do now, my little bitch," She said as she settled back down on the couch to read her book again. "You're going to get your cleaning supplies and clean that toilet bowl completely spotless. When you are done, you will get me so I can inspect your work. If it's not done to my satisfaction, you will do it again. Only after it is complete, will I remove the clothespins. Do you understand?"

My scrotum was hurting, and the pain seemed to intensify as I moved and the fabric of the lingerie items brushed against the clothespins. I nodded and said "Yes Mistress."

She dismissed me with a wave of her hand and went back to reading.

I got busy. Ignoring the pain was hard at times. I took the bucket of brushes, the toilet bowl cleaner, and the yellow rubber gloves. Walking slowly so as to not jar the clothespins too much, I made it back to the bathroom of the "Mistress suite".

Kneeling before the toilet bowl, with my yellow gloves and brushes, I got to work. The whole time, my nipples and ball sac throbbed with pain while my hard cock oozed precum. I kept my mind focused on the task. The task took about twenty minutes to complete. While I was cleaning, I kept telling myself that the pain will end soon.

When I finished, with me still kneeling, Mistress Laura inspected my work.

"Good. Much better, slaveboy. Now, put away your cleaning supplies and come onto the bed so I can take off those nasty clothespins."

I hurried off and came back, still in high heels. She had me take off the high heels and get on the bed on my back (mercifully!), with my arms above my head. Then she started toying with me again.

"Okay, my boy..." She pulled up the top, revealing my mangled nipples and flicked the clothespins, causing me to wince. "What have you learned?"

"I should make sure the toilet bowl is clean every time, Mistress," I managed to get out between gasps and moans of pain.

"Good boy." She kissed me on the lips then and told me "This is going to hurt. I want you to play with yourself, but do not come without my permission."

I stroked myself, the clothespins on my balls bouncing around, producing an odd juxtaposition of sharp pain mixed with waves of pleasure. Then, without much warning, Mistress Laura removed one of the clothespins from my balls. "Ouch!!!" I cried out.

"Did that hurt? That makes Mommy horny," Mistress brushed my lips with hers and told me to keep stroking, but make sure not to come.

She repeated the process with the second clothespin attached to my balls. She then grabbed both balls and squeezed, increasing the pain... "You're going to remember to do a good job with the cleaning, aren't you?" She smiled and kissed me on the lips again. I almost went over the edge, with her kiss and her obvious enjoyment of torturing me, impelling me towards the brink of a fantastic orgasm, but I managed to hold on.

She removed the first clothespin from my nipple while looking into my eyes.

Before removing the last clothespin, she paused, "Can you come while experiencing the pain?"

I was sure I could, so I nodded.

"When I remove this last one, you have permission to come. I want you to come as soon as I hurt you..." and with that, she squeezed the clothespin for a few seconds, before releasing my reddened and mashed nipple.

Pain emanated in throbbing waves from the area. My head swam and my pleasure peaked at once. I felt myself coming and I vaguely recall Mistress Laura saying things like "Good boy... That's good... I know that really hurt." I came all over my chest and belly.

Mistress Laura then kissed me on the lips slowly and got up, throwing a towel at me.

"Clean yourself up. If I do this again, I probably won't have you come. Count yourself lucky." Her eyes smiled at me even as her tone was all business.

"Yes, Mistress. Thank you." I lay there for a minute, enjoying the sensations. I felt wonderfully owned and well used... Using the towel, I wiped myself clean and slid off the bed, kneeling at my wonderfully cruel Mistress's feet.

Our eyes met for a second, she looking down at me, and I slowly kissed one foot and then the other.

"I love you, Mistress," I said.

"I love you too, my boy," was her reply, with her hand on my head, petting me slowly.

They just don't get it

2006-08-29T00:35:00.000-07:00

Over the weekend, while I was busy having lots of fun with Mistress Laura, I got a couple of funny comments to my previous posts. I've reproduced them below, with my responses.

To my "Fantasy: Serving Multiple Women" post, some anonymous person wrote:

"You are sick."

This is probably true in some sense, in that my sexuality is probably more unconventional than that of the writer of the above comment. I am, in that loose sense, a "deviant" (outside the norm). In the strictest sense, however, I probably have what is called in psychological jargon "optional paraphilia":

Clinicians often distinguish between optional, preferred and exclusive paraphilias, though the terminology is not completely standardized. An "optional" paraphilia is an alternate route to sexual arousal. For example, a man with otherwise unremarkable sexual interests might sometimes seek or enhance sexual arousal by wearing women's underwear. In preferred paraphilias, a person prefers the paraphilia to conventional sexual activities, but also engages in conventional sexual activities. For example, a man might prefer to wear women's underwear during sexual activity, whenever possible. In exclusive paraphilias, a person is unable to become sexually aroused in the absence of the paraphilia.

To my post "A lesson learned: using others' presence as a shield", an anonymous person (probably the same incisive observer who informed me of my mental illness), wrote:

"I have a question? [sic] What happened to the man inside you? It sounds like you are more of a wimp than a man. I bet you are headed for a cuckolding experience in the near future. I wouldn't blane [sic] her if she did cuckold you, after all you are not a man rather a little mouse of a man."

This is an interesting comment. The writer obviously reads Fem Dom sites and is familiar with the "cuckolding" terminology. One has to wonder why they are so fascinated with female domination? I think it's probably because they are fascinated and secretly crave to be dominated by a woman.

In terms of my own manliness, I am a few months away from being a black belt in Karate, I am the father of two almost grown children, own a successful business, and am in a romantic blissful relationship with a fantastic woman. My relationship, even if unconventional, is buzzing with love and passion all of the time. I have given my Mistress Wife the reins to our relationship, not because I am a wimp, but out of a choice; this was an attempt to create a different dynamic: to recreate the passion of early romantic infatuation. I believe I am succeeding.

Finally, in response to "My birthday is tomorrow! Going shopping", probably the same person wrote:

"I am curious, has she purchased a dog dish for you yet?"

I'm glad you asked.

No, she has not yet purchased a dog dish for me. However, she did get me a doggy bed that she makes me sleep on some nights.

We go through periods where she makes me explicitly ask to join her on her bed. Some nights, she makes me sleep on my doggy bed at the foot of the bed. Frankly, I enjoy those nights, because when she finally lets me sleep with her again, I love the closeness so much more.

Thanks for asking. I certainly appreciate your comments, and wish you the same happiness in your relationships that living with my Mistress brings to my life.

My wonderfully cruel Mistress

2006-08-28T15:04:00.000-07:00

My Mistress has not shown a propensity for sadism. Till now.

On Friday afternoon, she sent me her list of chores for the weekend.

When you get home, check that we have no visitors, then shave, shower, get into a "pretty outfit" of your choice and present yourself to me.
Then, do a thorough cleaning of the "Mistress Bedroom"
After you are done, show me your work so I can critique it.
When you are done with all this, we will have your attitude adjustment session.

Just reading the list brought about a desired Pavlovian response in me, as my breathing got shallower and a warm glow entered my body.

As seen in this representative sample, Mistress subjects me to periodic attitude adjustment sessions, designed to focus my attention on serving her better; these sessions involve spanking with a leather paddle or caning. This is one of the tools that we implemented early on, along with orgasm control, to cement her control over me. The sessions generally happen on a weekly basis, and on a moment's notice at her discretion.

Her "pretty outfit" remark refers to the outfits that she bought for me on our recent trip to the mall, complete with her high heeled shoes.

When I got home, I checked that we had no visitors, then went about following her instructions to the letter. She was working in her office, as usual, and I quickly shaved, showered, and selected a sexy black top and matching black panties with lace trim. I dressed myself in the lingerie, put on the high heeled shoes, and walked over to my Mistress Wife.

"Very nice. Good boy," she looked me up and down and had me turn all around for her. Of course, I was already very aroused. "You look like such a cute little slavegirl." She then gave me a kiss and a pat on the ass and told me to get to work as she turned back to what she was working on.

So, with heels clicking against the floors, I went about my housework. I vacuumed, emptied garbage cans, changed the bed sheets, and cleaned the bathroom that is attached to the "Mistress suite" in the house. The whole time, my cock was fully erect.

As a side note: I look forward to each of my chore sessions, even as I intellectually understand that I am being the subject of an overt use of Skinnerian operant conditioning; deliberately associating doing housework for my Mistress with sexual arousal by the use of my kinks. I am a willing experimental subject. :-)

When I was done with the cleaning, I put away my supplies and again went to Mistress Laura and reported my progress.

"Let's take a look," she walked with me following into the Mistress bedroom and looked around.

"Very nice. Good job on the vacuuming... Let's go into the bathroom," she motioned for me to follow closer.

"Look at the toilet bowl, slaveboy," she pointed out what she wanted me to see. I already knew. "That is not clean, is it?"

"No, Mistress," I simply acknowledged. The last couple of times, I had not done the full toilet bowl cleaning routine, so there was a dirty ring in the edges of the bowl, at the water level.

She stated that now it was time for my attitude adjustment session and that I should take off the high heels and lay everything out. I went to Mistress's toy chest and retrieved her cane and paddle, placing them on the bed. She had me get on the bed on all fours, then she pulled down the silky panties I was wearing so they were down at my knees.

"Now, slaveboy," she spoke slowly, as she softly ran the cane across my bottom, "is there anything that you need to be punished for?"

She often starts my sessions in this way, and I have found that if I "confess" to something that I have done, or talk about an attitude that should change, my punishment is less severe than if she has to point it out. So I usually wrack my brains.

"I was a bit argumentative with you a few times this week," I said.

"Yes, that's true. Anything else?" she ran her fingernails softly against the backs of my thighs, making me shiver with excitement.

"Nothing else that I can think of, Mistress... Except for the toilet bowl."

She listed a few minor infractions that she had noted throughout the week and gave me a few whacks with the cane, saving the best for last. :-)

"Now, my boy..." She paused, "To get back to your cleaning job. I think you need to be much more careful about your work.... So, let's see... I think I'm going to have to give you 30 with the cane."

I was both turned on and scared. Something in her tone made it clear to me that she was serious.

The first twenty were a normal type of caning, with warmup and merciful pauses. Then, she turned downright nasty...

"I think I've been more than nice so far... So, for the next ten, I'm going to tell you how I really feel about this..."

"You should treat the toilet bowl like your Queen's throne..." WHAP!!! "You weren't doing a very good job of that, were you?!!" WHAP!!! "Now, you lazy little bitch..." WHAP!!! "If I ever see you doing a job..." WHAP!!! "... like that again ..." WHAP!!! "I'm going to have to have you clean it..." WHAP!!! "With your tongue..." WHAP!!! "Little lazy bitch!" WHAP!!! "Do I make myself clear?" WHAP!!! "My fucking bitch slavegirl... Do you understand me?" WHAP!!! She continued hitting me a few more times, "just because".

The pain shot through the roof during this last few minutes and my mind simply went elsewhere... To my amazement, I found myself getting very hard and even slipped into a space that was close to orgasming at her harsh treatment, and she herself was very aroused. After a moment, I said: "Thank you Mistress. I'm sorry. I won't do that again."

"That's not the end of it, slaveboy. Tomorrow, you're going to make some time and get dressed up all pretty again and clean the toilet bowl right. But before you begin, come check in with me," she informed me. I knew then that she would continue her torture at that time.

To be continued...

Learning to heel

2006-08-25T11:59:00.000-07:00

To prepare me for my birthday shopping trip at the mall, Mistress had me naked and kneeling before her.

"First of all, even though this is for your birthday, this is primarily for me to have fun. Do you understand, my boy?"

I nodded. Of course, anything that makes her happy makes me happy. My joy stick started to point upwards.

"You tend to go too fast. For this trip, you are going to walk a half a step behind me. If you walk in front, I will silently count the seconds and beat you accordingly." She smiled at my rock hard penis.

She continued: "We will go at my pace. You are to make interested comments when I ask you your opinion about something. You will carry my purchases and deal with the cashiers. I will probably buy some things for you, but I may not, so be prepared for either possibility."

I nodded. She then had me get up and get dressed and drive her to a local mall. I held the door open for her as she stepped out of the car, and we went for a leisurely stroll through the mall.

While there, she let me hold her hand, but she clearly led, as I followed a half step behind and to her left. This is the exact same spot that her dog occupies when Mistress Laura walks her.

We went and shopped for some clothes for her, then she led me into the women's lingerie section of one of the department stores. She picked out a few outfits, which she held up to my waist or my back for size, and then had me buy my new clothes. I was very embarassed as I went up to the cashier and bought the panties and tops, but I hid it completely.

Only twice did I forget my place. The first time, she cleared her throat and I quickly fell back into position. The second time was towards the end. That time she just let me hang, till I looked back and she was a few steps behind. She just smiled. I blushed and fell back into line.

Afterwards, she asked me if I had fun. "Yes Ma'am, I did," I said, blushing.

"You were a good boy. You are learning to heel," she said. That made me very happy.

Since then, we've had some conversations about my eagerness to try new D/s activities; she wants to take things slow, and while I am intellectually fine with that, the little boy in me wants to try everything now!! From reading other blogs, this seems to be a common problem.

Today, I was reflecting on the shopping trip and the instructions that Mistress Laura gave me.

I need to learn to heel and follow her in a much deeper way.

The way to a slave's heart is though his fantasies

2006-08-23T06:58:00.000-07:00

Richard (Polyfetishist) wrote in "My Commonplace Masochistic Fantasies" about a series of images and fantasies that he masturabtes to.

He writes that his fantasies are "just as banal and ill-proportioned as any other man with slavish and masochistic desires" and goes on to list some common scenarios that turn him on. Interestingly, reading his list was like taking a peek into my own dark closet of extreme BDSM fantasies. These particular darkly tinged erotic scenes are extreme, but they are all interesting in that they point to some fairly universal themes.

Richard writes that his strongest fantasy is to be in a TPE relationship (total power exchange), and it is mine as well. I often think of my marriage as such a relationship. I refer to my wedding ring (which I am required to wear, while Mistress Laura can choose to wear it or not) as my "mini collar".

In my fantasy, my Mistress is cold, distant, only expecting service, special forms of address, postures and gestures, without regard to how any of it makes me feel. There is no warmth or love here, only complete ownership and loss of control. Here is a representative snippet of my fantasy:

My owner rarely touches me. I long for any physical sign of affection from her. I am naked, chained by my ankle to the cold floor of the shower stall, waiting for her to start the morning routine.

She walks in on me suddenly and I am late in getting into "the position" --- kneeling, both hands interlaced behind my head, my mouth open in an exaggerated way.

She grabs my hair roughly and forces my face to the floor, causing me to lose my balance.

"You are to anticpate my arrival, slave. When I come in here, you are to already be waiting in the position."

She pinches and crushes my balls savagely and I cry out. "Oh, poor baby," she says with a sneer, then she walks into the shower and squats over my face. Her warm spray of piss hits my face and hair and I can not escape the pungent odor. She pinches my nipples till I cry out in pain. She has me hold my buttcheeks open while she quickly inserts and locks in place my buttplug for today.

Walking back out of the stall, she unlocks my ankle chain and throws a towel at me, "Towel yourself dry, slave. You have your laundry and cooking, and I want the garage completely cleaned today. Serve me my breakfast in half an hour, sharp!"

I am forced to go about my day with the smell of her urine all over me, wearing nothing but the leather straps that hold the buttplug in place. I hear her taking a shower as I cook her breakfast.

The real life Mistress Laura is nothing like the stern, unbending, sadistic monster of my fantasy life. She is warm and loving, inherenently careful, and concerned with my well being. However, since she knows of my desires, she can use my fantasies in everyday little scenes by bringing forth some of the feeling of the unbending and harsh Mistress. This is an interaction that actually happened early on:

"Slaveboy, this toast is cold. Come here," she says, motioning for me to kneel.

Twisting my nipples savagely, she lectures me about how I have been lax and that I need more training in even simple things like making her toast. I wince in pain and I listen, my hands behind my head, kneeling by her side.

"I'm sorry, Mistress," I manage to say a couple of times.

"Kiss my feet now, and go make me a proper slice of toast!" she commands. I quickly do as she says, kissing her feet and running to the kitchen to make her toast. When the toast is done, I quickly butter it and run back to her.

"Mmmm... good boy. Much better!" she strokes my still sore nipples lovingly and I moan in unexpected pleasure.

She has not had a cold slice of toast since then. :-)

The things she says that turn me on

2006-08-22T15:48:00.000-07:00

There are a few everyday things that Mistress says or does that turn me on. We are not talking about anything explicitly erotic or pornographic.

"Come here."

Even said in the most casual way, when she commands me, my heart starts to beat a bit faster.

"I am amazingly guilt free about prioritizing MY needs first."

The confidence and lack of over-concern for me and my needs is very sexy.

"Good boy."

This phrase warms my heart and has me start to smile almost instantly.

"You did a good job."

Usually accompanied with a pat on the butt after a day of chores. If I am starting to get tired and Mistress comes up to me and hugs me and says "You're doing a good job." I suddenly find my strength again.

"I know what I want to do. What is your opinion?"

The voice tone is hard to convey in print, but the presupposition is that she could just do what she wants to do, without asking me, but she wants to have the information about my preference too.

"Let's go over the menu for the week."

This is an interesting phrase, which for me means the beginning of planning our food menus and shopping for the coming week. One would think that such a chore-laden utterance would trigger dread, but it actually makes me happy.

Party shoes, limits, and taboos

2006-08-21T18:01:00.000-07:00

I’m in a nine year marriage that has turned into a FemDom marriage in the last nine months or so. Overnight, I went from being the steoretypical husband (working long hours, somewhat emotionally unavailable, not lifting a finger to help with house chores, being a bit of an absent Dad with the kids) to being Her attentive, submissive, controlled pet/slave. Now Mistress is in control of everything in our lives and has me doing all the housework while she attends to other matters.

At the beginning, we talked about some “hard limits”. Crossdressing and sissification were not things that I was interested in at all.

Well, a couple of weekends ago was a typical weekend in my life with Mistress Laura. She had me get up early and get her breakfast, which I am required to serve her in the nude. Then, with me kneeling on the floor, she tells me about the chores we are going to do. One of these chores was cleaning out her office closet.

When going through the boxes, Mistress spied a pair of cute black high heeled shoes.

“I’m probably going to donate those,” she said and had me set them aside.

A moment later, “Well, on second thought… Put them on. I want to see wht they look like on you,” she commanded playfully.

I dutifully slipped on the women’s shoes and stood, awkwardly, my feet apart, my calves bulging, and my cock completely rigid in front of me.

“Oh my,” Mistress purred, stroking my cock which was already producing precum, “You like this. What a slutty boy you are!”

I was embarassed, blushing and humiliated and my stomach was a jumble with the realization that Mistress could make me do anything for her, and that if she enjoyed it, I would have an uncontrollable urge to do it for her.

She had me walk around with the shoes, clinking against the hardwood floors, till she was convinced that I was not going to twist my ankle and hurt myself. I spent the rest of the afternoon vaccuuming, naked, except in her high heels, completely aroused and under her spell. Every once in a while, she would walk over and twist my nipple, stroke my cock, and tell me “you are such a good girl.”

Now, I have been thinking about what made this experience so erotically charged. I don’t feel any less a man than before, but I feel… more… vulnerable, exposed.

Since then, even when I wear clothes around my Mistress, I feel naked in her eyes. She has seen me in ways that no one else has and she has made me cross these “taboos”.

Since then, she has talked about dressing me in some nice silky women’s underwear and a matching bra, having me wear my “party shoes” (that’s what she calls them now) and putting my long hair in braids or pigtails for my next vaccuming session. I know it turns her on and that turns me on so very much.

I can’t believe that I am looking forward to being my Mistress’s little slavegirl.

At the same time, I’ve thought about this: What if I could put someone else in her place… say… a professional Dominatrix… Then all these feelings vanish in an instant and I feel nothing but abject shame (not in a good way). So, for me, these experiences and feelings can only exist in my loving relationship with my Mistress/wife.

It seems to me that some FemDom activities (such as forced crossdressing and sissification) are not so much about demasculinizing the man, so much as breaking down barriers, which can make the man more vulnerable and open (and dependant!) on the woman. Some of these barriers and boundaries are around gender roles and expectations.

A service oriented birthday

2006-08-21T07:06:00.000-07:00

My birthday was on Saturday. Mistress had informed me that she would take me shopping with her to the mall. I didn't know what to expect, but I was excited.

That morning, she had woken me up to get her some orange juice, had an emotional conversation, teased me, then fell back asleep, her body entwined with mine.

Some time later, I was in the kitchen, wearing only an apron, cooking her breakfast. I brought the plate of eggs and toast to her in her office, curtsied (by the way, I feel ridiculous doing this), and knelt down beside her, waiting for my marching orders. She petted my head absently, enjoyed her breakfast, read her email, and we started talking about weekend plans.

"I think that today's schedule might be too full. You have some chores to do, the kids have some things they need to finish. Will you be okay with postponing our shopping trip?" Mistress Laura asked, looking down at my face.

"Yes, Mistress, I'm fine with that. Whatever works best for you." I was mature about it, though a bit disappointed. I decided right then that I would simply sublimate my sexual and emotional energies and frustration and be the best house-boy my Mistress Wife could ever have!

So, when I was dismissed, I went about my chores with gusto. I wanted to do all the laundry, vaccuuming, kid related errands, and bake some deserts for a potluck related to my wife's work that she was taking us to later in the evening.

As I did my work, I was thinking about the fact that even on my birthday, my happiness was not the focus and that I was working extra hard to make my Wife's life easier. This thought started playing in my mind like a loop, "My birthday is devoted to making my Mistress happy... It's not about me... It's about accepting the gift of her control and humbly serving her."

I was in a submissive fog, happily doing housework.

I took a break to check on the cookies I was making in the oven (they looked good!) and I continually checked in with Mistress, who had me refill her soda or get her snacks as she did her paperwork in her office. I was very happy. Domestic bliss.

In the middle of it all, Mistress had me reserve a part of my cleaning chores for later: She said that I should vaccuum her bedroom and mop and treat the hardwood floors in the kitchen area later, when I could be "dressed for the job".

Now I was so looking forward to doing that for her. She was referring to the special outfit that she has me dressed in to do my housechores when the kids are otherwise occupied elsewhere. On those occasions, she has me put on a girly flowery sheer summer dress, high heeled shoes and put my hair in pigtails. I do vaccumming or cleaning the bathroom or other domestic chores in this outfit, punctuated by serving Mistress in whatever ways she needs while she relaxes. She sometimes just watches me do my work in this state, telling me that I am such a "good slavegirl". Just thinking about this gets me excited. I am such a slut!

In thinking about this part of my routine, I am struck by this observation: My Wife has actually managed to make the drudgery of housework into a reward for her slutty house-husband who just loves to please her. In fact, since she had me hold a part of my work (cleaning the kitchen floor), I have fantasized about being dressed in the high heeled shoes and girly clothing, with my hair in pigtails, on my knees, cleaning the hardwood floors by hand while Mistress watches and says things like "What a good little maid you make... You missed a spot, go back there... You like doing this, don't you?"

Later in the afternoon, I folded all the dry laundry and put them away in Mistress's dresser. I packed up the fresly baked cookies, dressed mysekf in a nice but casual outfit that she approved, and Mistress and I were off to the potluck and party with her professional colleagues.

The party was fun and ran late. I was at her side constantly, socializing with her friends, getting her drinks and food, and every once in a while, she would lean over and whisper little things like "You really worked hard today, slaveboy. Happy birthday."

This was probably one of the best birthdays I have had. I don't really want to be the center of attention. I would rather sit in the background, making things happen, and having fun with friends and family.

Later, I will post about how the shopping trip went, and about my birthday caning, which happened yesterday, on the day after my birthday.

I am in love.

Even on my birthday, pleasing her comes first

2006-08-20T07:18:00.000-07:00

It has been a couple of weeks since I have had any release. Mistress Laura has gotten quite good at keeping me on edge for her amusement; she has let me satisfy her with my tongue a few times, and she has me giving her massages and footrubs on a daily basis. I'm not complaining; sometimes I even prefer being denied to being granted an orgasm.

Yesterday was my birthday.

Mistress woke me up very early to go fetch some orange juice. I came back with the glass of OJ, with ice and a straw, and knelt by the side of the bed. She drank a bit, told me to set the glass down, and to crawl into the bed and spoon her from behind. So, I got on the bed and pressed the length on my naked body gently into hers. My cock was rock hard and nestled against the nuderwear covering her behind and she deliberately wiggled and pushed back into me. I moaned but stayed still.

Mistress Laura then started to talk about some uncomfortable feelings that she has had, issues related to her and her family, life goals, emotional issues, and recounted some unpleasant (almost nightmarish) dream she had been having, etc. I listened, and offered no solutions, only speaking when she asked a direct question. She would wiggle her ass into me from time to time, and my penis would spring back to full attention.

This whole scene was torturous. Please snap a few clothespins onto my nipples and cock instead!!! Before we swapped roles, I would not have been able to listen to this sort of talk without getting into a monstrous fight with my wife; mostly due to women and men's differing styles of communication. I would have pushed some agenda, told her how I would solve this, tell her that it was "her issue, not mine." or even worse that "it's not important" and a plethora of other non-relating techniques learned over four decades.

Here, I was just listening. To be completely accurate, I was forced to listen. I wanted to please my Mistress, who is the source of all pleasure and pain. I was naked in her bed. I am her property and my number one job is to make her happy.

After a few minutes, she had me roll over onto my other side and she spooned me from behind. She grabbed my cock and balls with her hand and she thrust her hips into my ass as she pulled me close. Again, I moaned and I imagined her fucking my ass with a strap-on, but I stayed still.

She then put one leg over me, pressing her weight onto me (which I love) and fell asleep like that: her hand wrapped loosely around my shaft, her fingers lightly touching my balls, her body clothed in pajamas nestled into my bare ass. I felt peaceful and happy.

My birthday is tomorrow! Going shopping...

2006-08-18T21:40:00.000-07:00

Often, it's the small things that make a big difference.

At dinner tonight, Mistress told my kids that she will be taking me to the mall tomorrow for my birthday. She had not discussed this with me beforehand.

The very way that she casually mentioned our plans, as if they are simply set in stone, made me very happy. I began to look forward immediately to whatever she had in mind for us.

What's funny is that before she took the reins, I was one of those guys that hates to shop. I was a terrible companion at stores, always tense and in a hurry, wondering what I was missing --- as if anything could be more important than the gift of my time and presence with Her.

Now, I anticipate some fun time walking around the mall with my Mistress/Wife, holding her purchases, making small talk, relaxed and happy. If Mistress wants me to sit somewhere and wait for her, I will happily do it. If she wants me to hold her purse and stand oustide a dressing room while she tries on outfits, I will happily do it.

Thinking about her casual comment at dinner tonight got me thinking about all the other "small things"; the subtle gestures, the taking of liberties that no longer seem like liberties.

For example:

At dinner, she often reaches over and takes a bite off my plate. It's Her way of letting me know that it's all hers...
She made me switch our closets in the master bedroom (which we now refer to as the Mistress bedroom) so that she has the large double door closet and I have the one around the corner.
She randomly switches which side of the bed she has me sleeping on; and sometimes she has me sleep on the floor on a large puppy-bed. She says that I should never get too attached to any particular routine.

So, dear readers... Are there other examples of these "little things" in your lives?

A lesson learned: using others' presence as a shield

2006-08-18T06:10:00.000-07:00

When my kids are around, Mistress and I tend to tone things down a bit. I'm allowed to wear shorts and t-shirts around the house, when doing my house chores, and there are far fewer public displays of my submission.

The other day, I had the chance to see that even though the kids are here with me, that I still need to be totally focused on Mistress, and that bad behavior will still be punished. Here is what happened:

Our ice maker was malfunctioning. This happens from time to time and when it does, we have to pop the whole contraption out of the refrigerator, clean it, and put it back in. Sometimes we have to fiddle with it when we slide it back in. This is something that Mistress Laura has fixed in the past. The upshot was that we had no ice. Mistress and I had talked about this and I had asked her if she could take a look at it, since I had done what I could to unwedge it.

I served dinner to the family, and after the kids and I cleaned the kitchen, we all retired to the family den to watch a two hour movie. After the movie, Mistress Laura got up and went to her office, and she asked me to fetch her a soda with ice.

Before I could stop to think, I said to Mistress, in slight exasperation:

"Well, we have no ice. I asked you to look at it before dinner!"

My son was milling around at this point, but without skipping a beat, my Wife said in a clearly angry tone of vioce:

"I don't need that kind of lip from you. I'm sure you can find other ways to say what you just said to me, can't you?"

I was looking down, blushing, and just said "Yes Ma'am".

Then she grabbed me by the T-shirt and pulled me close and whispered into my ear:

"Here's what you're going to do now. Go get me some ice. I don't care from where. Then, after you deliver my soda, meet me in the bedroom with three clothespins. Use the time that it will take for you to get the ice to think."

I just nodded my assent.

So, off I went, to the local grocery store, for a bag of ice. The whole time, I was turned on and afraid. I did not think that Mistress would punish me so quickly. Usually, she saves up my infractions for one of her "attitude adjustment" sessions. When I got to the store, it took a few minutes to buy the ice, and in another few minutes, I was back home.

I found room in the freezer for the ice bag, then I made Mistress's soda. She nodded as she took the soda from me, and turned back to reading her emails. It was a bit late in the evening, so the kids had retired to their rooms.

I went to the bedroom myself, then, found the bag of clothespins and placed it on the bed. I stripped, put on my collar as expected for all discipline sessions, and knelt by the side of the bed, waiting.

In reality, it was probably only about fifteen minutes before I heard Mistress walking down the hallway, though it felt more like an hour. She wakled up to me, kneeling by her bed, and said "Nice. You found more than three clothespins, I see. Good."

She sat on the bed then and asked "Why are you here, slaveboy?"

"Because I was rude to you in my tone of voice, Mistress."

"Yes. What could you have said to me instead?"

"I could have said: We are out of ice, Mistress, but if you want, I can go and get some till we fix the ice maker again."

"That's right, slaveboy. You should have given me the problem, offered a solution, and let me make the decision. Maybe I would have just changed my mind and had you serve me something else to drink."

"Yes, Mistress."

"I still have to punish you," she said, patting the top of the bed. "Get up here. On your back, slave."

I got on the bed and lay on my back as instructed. As is the case about 90% of the time when in the presence of my Wife/Mistress, my cock was rock hard.

She took the bag of clothespins.

"Normally, I would make you get on all fours and I would paddle you or cane you. Unfortunately, your kids are here, and I can't make that kind of noise. So, I had to get creative."

She took out three clothespins.

"My pretty little slaveboy. Where would these hurt the most?"

I was compelled to tell the truth. "One on each nipple and one on the end of my penis would probably hurt the most, Mistress."

Without hesitation, she applied the two clothespins to my nipples. That hurt and the pain kept building. She had managed to pinch just enough skin that the pain was sharp and fast, without much subsiding. This was clearly not for my pleasure.

"Tell me what that pain is, on a scale of 1-10" she said, looking at my face intently.

"It's a 9, Mistress," I said, breathing funny.

"Hurting you makes my cunt twitch," she casually remarked and my head spun and I wanted her to give me more pain. Anything to please her.

She then grabbed my still very rigid cock and put the third clothespin on the head, right over the pee hole, a most sensitive spot.

"Ouch. Ouch. Ouch! Mistress, that really hurts." I protested, but remained as still as I could.

"Yes, it really does hurt, doesn't it, slaveboy? Maybe you'll think twice about giving me lip in the future." She then started stroking the length of my cock, which caused the clothespin attached to my cock to jostle. It was a very unpleasant juxtaposition of pain and pleasure.

She spent the next few minutes flicking the clothespins on my nipples, enjoying the wincing and my short breaths, drinking in my agony. Then, without much warning, she took off the clothespins one by one. The pain shot through the roof when the clothespins were removed.

"Okay, slaveboy. That took less than ten minutes. I can hurt you without a whole lot of effort. Remember that. I think you were using your kids as a shield. You won't do that anymore, now, will you?"

"No, Mistress, I won't," I said, still feeling the stinging pain in my nipples and cock.

I got off the bed, knelt in front of her then, and kissed her feet. "Thank you, Mistress. I'll try my best from now on."

She stroked my cheek and told me the words I long to hear: "Good boy."

Fantasy: serving multiple women, CFNM, humiliation

2006-08-17T15:52:00.000-07:00

I wrote the following in response to this post on Richard's Down on My Knees blog asking readers to tell their "unrealized BDSM dreams".

Mistress instructs me to get naked, put on her leather collar, and then presents to me an embarassing little plaid schoolgirl skirt which she expects me to wear. Then she gives me a list of chores to do (vacuuming, laundry, cleaning out the fridge, changing light bulbs, cooking dinner, etc.). Without telling me where she is going, she then takes off.

A few hours later, while still doing chores, Mistress comes into the house and commands me to kneel and “stay” (with a hand gesture, like when you tell a dog to “stay”). I do, instantly, and she goes back outside and comes back in, with another couple of ladies.

“See, there is my husband. Just the way I like him. I tell you, it is possible to have a completely obedient husband, you know.” my Wife/Mistress says.

“Wow, that is amazing,” the first one says and they both laugh and continue chatting with my Mistress, completely ignoring me.

“Yes. My little wife-boy here does all the house chores, all the house cleaning and laundry and cooking. He also gives great head, and I never have to feel obliged to do anything for him. He lives for my pleasure,” Mistres tells her friends as I turn a deeper shade of pink in mortification. Everything she says is true, but I was not expecting to be on display like this. Nontheless, my cock seems to paradoxically like this, as it is standing at attention, making a tent under the skirt.

My Mistress and friends go into the living room and sit down, chatting about how females should be the heads of households. I stay where I am, completely embarassed and completely turned on.

After an indeterminite time, I hear: “slaveboy, come here and serve us some drinks.”

I get up and go into the other room, with a raging erection underneath the plaid skirt.

“What would you and your friends like, Mistress?” I ask meekly, blushing from the completely obvious hardon.

“Bring me a screwdriver, and bring a couple of glasses of the red wine for my friends,” my Queen tells me and I do.

I spend the rest of the evening serving the three women, who become more domineering as the evening wears on.

At one point, Mistress has me get on all fours and she clips a leash to my collar and has me lick her pussy while her friends watch and laugh.

She then gets our her strapon and flips the skirt up and fucks me in the ass, all the while saying “Who’s the boss, bitch?” She is fingering her own pussy even as she fucks me with her strapon.

I am so excited at this point that it’s hard for me to think.

“Don’t you dare cum, bitch!” Mistress growls while continuing to fuck her little slaveboy’s ass. As she slams into me, I feel her bucking and I know she is starting to orgasm herself, but I am denied an orgasm.

When she is done with my (her!) ass, she has me clean her strapon and put it away and continue to server her and her friends drinks and snacks.

The beginnings of my surrender (part 2)

2006-08-17T06:59:00.000-07:00

Continuing from this post, takling about how it all began.

Reflecting later on these "servant game" sessions, I was struck by the emotional components more than by the kinky and sexual games. While I was my wife's slave I felt completely at peace and genuinely happy to serve her and to cater to all her whims.

I also noticed that most of the things which were the cause of arguments and marital discord did not seem to matter to me as much; I was starting to learn the skill of putting her needs and preferences automatically above my own. This realization was thrilling in and of itself.

At around this time, with the thrill of having tasted submission to my wife fresh in my memory and still resonating in my emotions, I stayed up late at nights and read FemDom sites like Elise Sutton's Female Superiority site and Diana Vesta's Guide to Female Domination. The more I read, the more eager I became to serve and obey my wife. Some of the sites which held my attention, such as the CFNM ("clothed female naked male") web sites were just pure porn, but even the porn sites pointed to a real desire that had been dormant in me.

My wife's birthday was coming up, and I was trying to come up with ideas. The last few birthdays I had bought her pieces of furniture, jewlery, books or CDs, etc. I struck upon an interesting idea, partially prompted by Elise Sutton's advice on how to introduce your wife or girlfriend to FemDom.

I found a birthday card that had a picture of a knight kneeling in front of his Queen, and inside I wrote:

"My beautiful Lady, Queen of my heart. I have gotten you some gifts as usual, but this year, I _also_ give you the gift of myself for the entirety of your birthday month (since a one day celebration is not nearly enough!)

I am completely yours, and anything that you desire will be my privilege to do for you."

My wife was amused and more than a bit skeptical. She figured that this was another one of the many things that would eventually fizzle away. I just smiled, thinking that her skepticism was well deserved since for many years I had been the stereotypical husband: busy, unavailable, unthinking, unappreciative, sometimes downright self centered.

The next morning, I got up early and did all the household chores: laundry, cleaning, vacuuming, taking care of the kitty litter, grocery shopping, all the while feeling a humming excitement at serving my wife.

During the next few weeks, I served my wife breakfast in bed, brought her snacks whenever she asked, fetched her drinks, massaged her, gave her footrubs, all the while reining in my male ego. It was torturous from time to time, massaging my wife's back, sexually lusting for her, but deliberately focusing only on her pleasure.

Towards the end of her birthday month, we had a conversation, where I confessed to her that serving her made me genuinely happy and that I realized that most of all, what I want, as a man, is to please my woman. I told her that I realized that her judgement in all things was just as good if not better than mine and that there was no reason why she should not be in control.

At some point in this conversation, I asked her: "Do you enjoy being the boss?"

She smiled and said "Yes, of course, my boy. You spoil me," and she touched my cheek lovingly. That was the end of that. I blushed and knelt at her feet, and she stroked my cheek and told me "What a good and eager boy you are! Yes, I am happy with this arrangement."

It has now been about eight or so months. My trial period has kept getting extended until it has become permanent. My Mistress/wife has become more and more comfortable in her role as the head of the household, and is now in complete control of our lives. She has made a lot of good changes (I will probably write about that in later posts) and has made it impossible for me to go through a day without being constantly reminded that she owns me and she is the boss.

I adore her. When I'm not with her, I miss her. When I am with her, I am in a heightened state of trying to please her. Sometimes I am deliciously miserable (which paradoxically makes me happy) and at other times, I am simply at peace.

On a daily level: I have kept up with all the housework, grocery shopping, running errands, kid-taxi, while Mistress Laura has been attending to other things. My efforts are, for the most part, self propelled (without much reminders from Mistress) and self sustaining.

I would love to hear thoughts and comments on any of this.

The beginnings of my surrender

2006-08-16T20:43:00.000-07:00

To all outside appearances, mine is a traditional marriage.

I live and work near Santa Clara, California. I live in the suburbs. My wife and I raise my two teenaged children from my previous marriage. We have a dog and two cats. My wife and I seem to share conservative values and have an easygoing, comfortable friendship. To the casual observer, I am the head of my household.

For the first nine or so years of marriage with my lovely wife Laura, the appearance was the reality.

We had played around a bit at the beginning of our marriage with D/s, always with me as the Top. We even went through a period of attending BSDM gatherings and attending local play parties. I played with many people in the local scene, again, always as the Dominant. I was good with a whip, and would inflict pain on any willing masochist with relish. In retrospect, there is a part of me that wanted to feel the pain and the control that I subjected others to --- perhaps I wanted to feel it vicariously --- in some scenes, I would apply the same torture to myself, e.g. a clothespin to my nipple while applying one to my masochistic scene partner.

In the last seven or so years, that sort of public partying had lost its spark. We were working, parenting, trying to maintain romance, and ultimately, I believe we were drifting apart. I had my own hobbies, and my wife had her hobbies. We lived together and felt more like roommates as the years wore on.

Around last Christmas, during vacation, while my kids were with their mother, my wife and I were hanging out and goofing off, I was naked (we are relaxed about clothes) and she was dressed, and I started referring to her as "Ma'am" and we played for an entire evening with her as the Lady of the house and me as her servant boy. I massaged her feet, brought her snacks, and obeyed to the letter with enthusiasm anything and everything she asked of me.

During this first evening, my wife was tickled by my enthusiasm and my perpetual hardon. The simple act of bringing her a drink and kneeling by her side produced an embarassing effect on my body. My blood ran hot the entire time I was her servant.

At the end of the evening, she took me by the hand to our bed, and made me kneel by the side of the bed. She had me look at her eyes.

"I'd like a massage, boy," she told me and my head spun, and the hardon I had sported throughout the night practically pulsed. "and if you're really good, maybe you'll get to be my sex toy too."

I gave her a massage, concentrating entirely on her pleasure. This was a different type of massage than any other I had given her --- it was all about her pleasure, not my expected sexual reward. When I was done, she was relaxed and turned on, and she took my cock in her hand and pulled me into herself, all the while saying things like "You are such a good little slaveboy. Who knew?" A warm blush spread from my neck to my cheeks, when I heard her praise me in this way.

We played the servant game a few more times. She even gave me some pet names and would play with different rules for me. I loved it, and I could also tell she liked it too.

To Be Continued