Oct 25 – Safe words, Submissive Guide Blog Hop Challenge

This is an entry in the Blog Hop Challenge from The Submissive Guide at http://www.submissiveguide.com/2012/10/sgbhc-13-using-safewords/.  I believe that the topic of safe words is a good one as I suspect different subs have different approaches.  It will be interesting to see the entries from other bloggers to compare with my own comments.

“Do you have a safeword?”

Yes, definitely.  If my dominant wife and I did not use a safe word and “stop” meant to stop, then she would stop after just several seconds of torture!  During S&M play I often yell in pain, beg, breathe to try to get through the pain, gurgle, laugh without meaning to, take in a deep breath through clenched teeth, and even sometimes scream at the top of my lungs.  Doesn’t seem very pleasurable, eh?  Well, I am not a pain slut meaning I do not enjoy the pain for its own sake or for the endorphins.  In fact, the endorphins rarely seem to activate for me (the two notable exceptions are when I seemed to reach “subspace” as I have blogged about months ago).  It’s all pain and if my wife tortures me for 30-45 minutes then it’s all pain except during the brief times when she is between implements.  Fortunately, she restrains me because otherwise I am rolling around all over the place which could be dangerous as blows rain down, although she is careful on the times I am not fully restrained.

My begging and yelling in pain is all real, at the moment I sincerely want the torture to stop.  I have recently heard the term emotional masochist and that may fit for me.  I do not enjoy the pain itself but I love the emotions of victimization and cruelty I feel from my wife.

Recently during a scene my wife asked me “Do you really want me to stop?”  I wasn’t sure if she meant to break the scene, check in with me, or just taunt me and I think I surprised her by looking into her eyes and answering “Yes, please stop!”  Deep inside I didn’t actually want her to stop because even though I really was sincere in begging her to stop, I have awareness inside of me even at those times that I really love what she does to me and I particularly love long scenes.  I have blogged previously (in a “note to my wife”) about this effect of having two people inside of me during a scene.  Nevertheless, I said “Yes, please stop!” but thankfully she didn’t, she said “Too bad!” and continued.

In any case, we use the yellow/red safe word system so that my wife can know with confidence that I am all good with her proceeding … if her ears can handle all of the screaming lol.

What about those who do not have a way for the sub to communicate a problem, via safe word or just saying that they have had enough?  That would not work for us at all.  My wife needs to feel confident that I am not in danger and for me not to be able to communicate would remove that confidence from her.  Masters and Mistresses are not omniscient and can’t know everything going on with a sub’s body and mind.

I have read on FetLife comments such as “I trust Master so we do not need any way for me to communicate a problem” and this just wouldn’t work for me, even regardless of my wife’s view on this (she agrees with me).  Trust isn’t the issue for me, of course I trust my Princess.  She simply isn’t omniscient and we would both rather not have her property (me) damaged.

I have also read FetLife comments such as “Slaves do not have safe words, only subs have safe words.”  That is word play and I don’t care much about definitions.  Non-BDSM slaves have no safe words and also have no freedom to leave their Masters whereas BDSM slaves may always leave their Masters (even in Internal Enslavement contracts if a BDSM slave goes to the police there is no way that the contract wouldn’t hold up in a court of law).  So BDSM slaves are not slaves if you want to use that non-standard definition of the word slave.  Consequently, the word “slave” in a BDSM context is mostly what you make of it.

The implication that slaves do not have safe words is meant to denigrate those of us who use safe words, that we experience watered down slavery compared to the person making the comment.  I am fine with that, although I disagree with the implied negative connotations.  My preference in fantasy is to be a non-consensual slave tortured literally 24/7 but I simply couldn’t handle that in reality so yes I prefer a watered down version of slavery to allow for reality.  In reality, I need to have a safe word dynamic.  If someone is willing to play with fire (figuratively and possibly literally) without a safe word or way for the slave to communicate trouble, that doesn’t seem safe to me but I can only speak for my own preferences.

I have read of many others who do not use a safe word but instead simply communicate issues.  That seems very safe to me, too, I don’t think there is anything more or less safe with that than with safe words.  If stop means stop, then that seems safe to me.

“When was the last time you used it?”

BDSM has been in our marriage for about a year now but my wife has been torturing me for many years.  Ba-dump-bump.  Oh wait, did I type that out loud? lol.  Actually, we dabbled in light S&M play early in our over 15 year marriage and we had a different safe word back then but I don’t think I ever used it.  In the past year I have used the yellow safe word three times.

I used yellow twice on March 5th of this year during the over one hour no-break torture scene which I blogged about on March 5th and 6th and in those cases the pain was just too much for me.  The first was when my wife put a clothespin on my nipple and then removed it and quickly put it back on.  I think she was just trying to readjust it but after 30-40 minutes of torture already that was too much.  I remember having one of those speed-thought moments in which a whole lot of things raced through my mind in the two seconds between the too-much-pain occurring and my saying yellow.  I didn’t want to safe word because I wanted to bear the pain successfully and I also didn’t want my wife to think that she did something wrong.  But I quickly acknowledged to myself that I am human (damn!) and had enough at the moment.  My wife quickly removed the clothespin but kept me restrained spread eagled and I think it was about 20 seconds later I said green, and she moved on to the next torture.

Which was hard bastinado with the crop.  I took a handful of blows of that but just couldn’t take any more of it and said yellow.  My wife now usually uses a less sturdy implement on the soles of my feet such as a thin stick or my belt, and I can take a lot of blows from that but the crop is still just too much after a handful of blows.  I think it was about 20 seconds later when I said green, and my wife continued the torture scene for another 15-25 minutes and it was all good.

I was very proud of my wife for continuing.  She is new to BDSM in that she didn’t really have BDSM fantasies all of her adult life as I have (I say “really” because she has always liked to pick on people in a slightly cruel way, but she had kept that desire mostly at bay until she met me).  Once we started with BDSM we discussed safe words as well as many other topics, because we enjoy talking with each other.  We agreed that the use of a safe word by either of us didn’t mean that anyone did anything wrong, it’s just that things happen which may not be expected, that’s the nature of being human.  Both times I said yellow during the scene I worried that my wife would shy away from continuing but that did not happen at all, she paused as we had discussed and then continued when we were green.

Another good effect from the experience of my using the safe word is that my wife’s confidence in my ability to safe word grew and since then she knows that I will safe word if I need to.  That doesn’t mean she doesn’t check on me during a scene, but it does mean that if I am not safe wording then she may feel free to continue.

As usual, though, I have digressed and haven’t yet answered the question.  The last time I have safe worded was several months ago when my wife was inserting into me a large dildo which was thicker than anything she had used previously (I blogged about it at the time though I don’t remember the date).  She used plenty of lube but I felt too much pain and feared internal tearing so I said yellow.  The amount of pain wasn’t that large compared to other agonies I have experienced (and loved) but pain in that internal area is tougher for me to take plus the fear of tearing (I did have a bit of blood there after the scene but not bad).  I remember feeling a bit light-headed but I breathed through it and managed not to come all that close to fainting.  It took me I think about two minutes to let my wife know green.  She wanted to stop because of the danger of causing damage but I asked her to try again though much more slowly.  To my surprise, with coaxing and patience she got it in and I was fine, although probably not coincidentally she has not used that dildo since.

“Are you afraid to say your safeword for fear of appearing weak?”

No, not afraid.  I am weak!!  I do not have any illusion that I am able to take a lot of pain and that isn’t important to me at all anyway.  And I enjoy being made to feel weak and pathetic.  Oh I know, being a sub makes us strong and I do not mean to imply otherwise, I just enjoy the feeling of being victimized by my wife’s cruelty and that includes being made to feel weak and pathetic, groveling, and all of that.  Yeah, stereotypical for one type of male sub but what can I say, it fits my desires.  Sometimes as I am yelling in pain and sincerely begging for mercy my wife will tell me how much of a baby I am to add to the humiliation.

Several nights ago, referring to a FetLife masochist friend of ours, my wife said as I was yelling in pain “I’m barely even tapping you, Leander would be laughing if his wife hit him this softly.”  Gee, thanks Princess, way to make me feel like a wimp!  Lol she got me with a good one there, and it’s probably the truth.

“What are your indicators that a scene has gone too far and you need to safe word?”

I can only speak for myself, of course, but I have never lost the ability to safe word during a scene.  I have read comments that some subs get into a state where they literally would not be able to safe word out of a scene but that does not apply to me, possibly related to my perception that endorphins rarely activate for me during a scene.  Consequently, it means that my wife can feel confident that she doesn’t need to step in and safe word for me.

My indicators are that the pain is too much (extremely subjective) and/or potential damage is being done.  For example, when we first received electrodes for my wife to use on me, one time she started placing them in the middle of my back but at that moment, despite being in a scene, I reminded her that the directions stated to use them only below the waist.  I didn’t use the safe word because I knew I wouldn’t have to, but I would of course have safe worded if she had said “Too bad” (which I knew wouldn’t happen).  There have also been several times in which a wrist restraint was too tight and I just say that it’s too tight.

For my wife and me, the safe word may also be used not during play.  I don’t think it would ever be needed because we could just discuss the issue and I would never say something confusing (I wouldn’t say stop when deep inside I wanted it to continue).  However, the ability to safe word is there just in case.  It is tough for me to think of an example but I will try now.

Let’s say that my wife commanded me to do something (that’s not a hypothetical, she does command and I obey!) but the something was going to inadvertently take me past a hard limit.  I of course would let her know of the issue and she would change the command.  But let’s say that she thinks I am just trying to be contrary or maybe in a mood, and let’s say that she says “Too bad, do it anyway.”  She certainly has the authority to say that and I really love that she has that authority because it would allow me to whine without breaking the D/s dynamic.

Tangent time.  Whining?  What kind of a slave is Ted?  Well, I happen to enjoy whining and as long as it is in a playful setting my wife seems good with that.  She can respond however she wants, “Stop whining”, “Too bad bitch”, “You big baby”, or whatever.  But I won’t whine if I feel that my wife would feel pressured to break the D/s dynamic.  Once I feel comfortable that my whining would not break the D/s dynamic (we are not at that point yet, by the way, it’ll probably just take time) then we’ll see how it goes.  It’s not an important issue, though, I am fine without whining.

Going back to my example, if my wife said “Too bad, do it anyway” even though I pointed out that it would go past a hard limit or for some other reason I just needed the command to be changed, I would say the safe word.  Yes it would sort of break the dynamic so I would really want to avoid saying the safe word when not during play, but the ability exists just in case.  As I mentioned earlier, neither of us want my Princess’ property to be damaged.

I want to add a comment about Domestic Discipline.  This is a very popular dynamic in which a spanking occurs as a punishment.  What is the point of having a safe word during a punishment?  Wouldn’t that make the punishment actually a funishment, fun for the sub?  Shouldn’t the sub just take the punishment, even beyond the point in which the pain is “too much”?

I don’t have an answer to this either direction.  My wife has never punished me because I am a good boy all of the time.  No, okay, that was just a silly brag, the reality is that I do make mistakes of negligence (some rather perplexing ones which could use correction) and my wife does funish me from time to time, but we do not have a punishment dynamic, and I am fine with that because I don’t think we really need it.  Funishment if done well and with enough intensity (whether or not physical pain is involved) helps me correct the issue, or if my wife doesn’t want to funish me then of course that is fine, I want to be a better slave just from my own desires.

What if my wife did want to truly punish me?  Let’s say that I was supposed to pick her up from somewhere but completely forgot and she had to pay for a cab?  I’m just making that up but there could be other examples.  Or let’s say that I forgot to do laundry one weekend while she was out of town and when she returned she had to wear something sub-optimal one day?  She would forgive me and we would be fine because we love each other so much and she knows that I would not willfully disobey.  If she wanted to turn it into a non-negative she might funish me but not punish me, I think.  But what if she did truly want to punish me?  What would work?  I’m an emotional masochist and glutton for punishment so most anything cruel she would do to me would be enjoyable, even if not at all enjoyable at the moment.  And if she went into hard limits I would safe word faster than you can say the word scat.

What if she did something not on a hard limit but wanted to disallow me a safe word?  She could do that with just a very hard spanking.  I honestly don’t know how I would react to that.  A part of me would love her to have that authority but I would certainly be scared, and not scared in a fully fun way.  I wouldn’t question “Could I take it?” because I wouldn’t have any choice and I wouldn’t really fear damage or injury because people all of the time take much stronger spankings than I take.  I don’t know what would happen, though, because it’s scary.  I guess a sub in this dynamic just takes it, no choice in the matter unless they want to leave the dynamic altogether.  I wonder how they feel after taking a beating beyond the point of where they would otherwise safe word?  Probably humbled and very much wanting to avoid it in the future.

I wrote all of the above on Oct 23 thinking that was when the blog hop was scheduled but the next morning (this morning Oct 24) I safe worded again and could probably re-write most everything above, but I will try to keep the rambling down to a dull roar.

I have insomnia from time to time (these days it seems a lot more common of an issue for many people) and I even wrote an article on my web page BDSM Cure For Insomnia (cheap plug).  Lately I have been sleeping very poorly and it has been somewhat affecting my mood (I get quiet, hard to believe I know).  My wife was going out of town later today (Oct 24) so last night my wife was going to give me probably a good thrashing.  However, between not sleeping well and having a bit of a stomach ache, I just wasn’t feeling that I would enjoy anything more than a light scene so when she indicated that she wanted me to go into the bedroom I told my wife that I wouldn’t enjoy it so we didn’t play.  I had basically safe worded (without saying the safe word so it doesn’t count lol) because my wife only enjoys mutual play.  The slight stomach ache (which went away by the time we went to sleep) gave me an excuse, the reality was that I just wasn’t feeling like a rough scene due more to my insomnia – hard to believe that I didn’t want to play, but true.  Maybe I should write an article Insomnia Cure For BDSM (j/k).

This morning after we had sex my wife asked me how my stomach was and I answered no problem.  She then told me to get the paddle and come back to bed.  I was good with that because I knew that we didn’t have time for a rough scene but I was wrong about that.  After just a few whacks the blows became quite rough and rapid.  Since we didn’t have much time before I had to go to work this morning my wife got right to action.  There was then a flurry of hard swats (not nearly full force, the word hard is relative) and then, seeing how I was really squirming around, my wife climbed on top of my lower back to hold me down tight.  I like that, it prevents me from moving around and it puts her in even more of a position of authority, and my kicking feet could not have accidentally hurt her from that position.  Another hard flurry of whacks.  I couldn’t take any more.  I tried to breathe to get through the pain and I even thought about what I had written above about those who do not have a safe word during a true Domestic Discipline (DD) punishment.  I buried my face in the pillow.  One more brief flurry of whacks and I yelled yellow.

To add to the issue of insomnia, a few nights ago I read a fictional short story about a dominatrix giving a man a hand job to completion immediately before torturing him to make the torture more painful.  Plus the dog ate my homework.

My wife stopped whacking, of course, and gave me some nice aftercare before she told me to get up to prepare to go to work.

I am writing this about 90 minutes after what I described above.  In retrospect I have previously dozens of times felt a whole lot more pain from my wife than the whacks this morning but I just couldn’t enjoy the victimization and cruelty, as much as I hate to admit that there is ever a time when I wouldn’t enjoy that.

To answer one of the blog hop questions, I feel weak.  I don’t mind that at all from a macho standpoint or from a pride standpoint of being able to take the pain, fortunately it isn’t a masochism contest against anyone else because I don’t care about that.  However, here I am always wanting more torture and scenes much longer than our usual 30-45 minutes, and yet I safe word after just a 3-5 minute scene.  Part of me wants to wallow but the reality is that everyone has their own threshold and mine at the moment is low (because the dog ate my homework).

So unlike yesterday when I wrote my very hypothetical thoughts above about a DD spanking punishment without a safe word, I now have safe worded from paddling on my behind.  What would have happened if I didn’t have a safe word to use because it was a legit punishment in which a safe word was not allowed?  That thought raced through my head for a couple of seconds just before I safe worded this morning.  I guess I would have just taken it, obviously.  And going forward I would make every effort not to do whatever it was which had earned the punishment.  In other words, I am guessing that a legit threat of that sort of DD punishment could probably work wonders on a disobedient slave.

There is another side of this.  The kinky part of me wants me to suffer and I love the dynamic/fantasy of non-consensual suffering.  As I sit here now I fantasize about my wife continuing to whack me beyond my safe word (sweetie, fyi please don’t do that though because it’s too dangerous as you know).  Sleep issues or not, my mind can still weave its fantasies.

I also love the dynamic of the Owner wanting to dish out more pain than the property would want, even if it is fully consensual play.  My wife clearly did enjoy paddling my behind up until I safe worded, she was giggling at the jiggling of my behind with the angle of the lighting and just whacking me with glee.  I love that, I really do.  My safe wording fit into this dynamic so I get a kick out of that.

Are you as confused about this as I am? lol

Oct 17, 2012 – Submission vs being dominated

I saw a comment on a dominant woman’s FetLife profile a few days ago about understanding your own feelings about submission vs being dominated.  It resonated with me in helping me understand a basic framework for what I enjoy.  I interpreted her comment in that submission is initiated by the sub while being dominated is initiated by the dominant, and it made me think.

Before BDSM entered our lives about a year ago I enjoyed as a loving husband doing things of my own initiative for my wife, little things, big helpful things, etc.  I don’t claim to be all Mr. Attentive but I felt pleasure when I was able to initiate something to please my wife.  For any husbands out there who don’t enjoy that, try it out, but then again you are probably not reading a blog by a subby guy anyway.  It was a way for me to show I love her because something I initiate obviously comes from my heart.  We don’t do the whole tit-for-tat thing, I’ve never understood that dynamic, so just-do-something-nice-for-each-other is our approach.  Just a tiny example is when I would anticipate something she would want and I would bring it to her.

By contrast, I didn’t particularly enjoy when she would ask me to do something.  I didn’t dislike it, but she initiated it so I felt that my obedience … oops, wrong word since I am still referring to back when we were mostly vanilla … my agreement to do what she asked did not obviously come from my heart.  When she initiated it, I went out of my way to perform some task but didn’t get the boost of pleasure from obviously showing in my heart that I love her, so overall it was a “meh” experience.  Also, I lived alone for most of my life, my parents were mostly hands off (which worked great for me) and after I moved out at before I was 20 I lived alone until moving in with my wife in my early 30s.  And then to be asked to do things did not fit what I was used to at all.  I did not chafe at it, though.  By the way, I think my wife doesn’t even know (until she reads this) of my perspective on the issue because I never really thought about it much until I saw that dominant’s woman’s FetLife profile comment.

So when we were mostly vanilla, I far preferred initiating service, rather than being asked to serve.

But now, being my wife’s slave, my submission is the other way around for that issue.  I far prefer to be required to do something rather than to initiate it.  It’s much more exciting/kinky to be ordered around like a slave, even for mundane tasks.  That is because my kink is that I enjoy when my wife gets some sort of sadistic pleasure at my suffering, the more the better.  If I initiate something then I do not feel my wife’s sadistic pleasure, just her pleasure at being served.

I recognize, though, that dominants typically don’t want to order slaves around to do service, that’s a lot of work for the dominant when the slave should just do it, so service usually means that I initiate it. That is why, as I have mentioned on this blog before, I have a bit of a difficult time enjoying providing service.

Here is the cool thing for me, though.  I still enjoy initiating doing things for my wife, in the same way I did as a husband.  I still don’t go overboard with that as I am not Mr. Attentive (I am going to be patient with myself to improve in that), but being her slave I do try to think more often about what she would want.

Where does the husband pleasure end and the slave pleasure begin?  It doesn’t matter, except to try to understand myself, with the idea that slave pleasure is what turns me on while husband pleasure is just a nice feeling of showing love.  They are certainly intermixed but I do recognize a difference.  I don’t think I get much slave pleasure at initiating service.  And I am beginning to be okay with that.  Rather than trying to strive for slave pleasure in initiating service, I am just going to be glad to receive husband pleasure at initiating service because that is enough for me.  Bottom line is that my wife receives service.

What does my wife prefer, to dominate me or to receive submission?  To a large extent she feeds off my energy.  Which type of dynamic does she prefer?  I suspect that she enjoys both evenly.

Last night after she returned from being out of town for about a week (in which I had almost no slave pleasure or husband pleasure, so I doubly miss her nowadays when she is out of town), and in the evening after we had (euphemism alert) renewed acquaintances, I initiated a specific service task which is something I have done very little of before but what she has hinted at back when we were mostly vanilla.  I drove her car to the gas station to fill up the 1/3 full gas tank in her car.  This is a very minor service, plenty of vanilla people do this for their spouse, it’s just not something I would previously think of because I’m not Mr. Attentive.

My wife loved it along with other service I initiated last night and she told me that it made her feel like a Princess, which is how she often wants me to address her.  That made me feel good hearing her say that.  She likes the feeling of being my Princess.  I felt like a good slave.  And who wouldn’t enjoy their slave to initiate service?  If I had a slave I would certainly enjoy it lol (wait, who said that?).

However, my wife also enjoys initiating on her own.  Sometimes I will initiate something and she will say “No, I made you do that.”  We laugh because she is joking but she does seem to go out of her way to initiate my slavery.

She has always had a sadistic pixie streak (a little devil inside) in which she would like to pick on me but held back because, before BDSM entered our lives, I was not her sub.  I still liked being picked on by her but she definitely held back.  There is no holding her back now.  At any waking time of day or night she will pick on me with some sort of pain out of the blue and for no reason (slapping, CBT, pinching, biting, poking, spanking with her hand or some nearby implement, or whatever) or some sort of humiliating command I must obey.  Obviously, I love it, doesn’t every sub?  (Actually no, not at all, many subs do not enjoy being tormented whatsoever, but I digress.)

My wife also seems to enjoy commanding me in non-kinky ways, to get up and fetch something she legit wants, to go do a particular chore now, and so on.  Yes she enjoys when I initiate service but she also seems to enjoy commanding service, and I am glad for that.

Even though my wife commands service, we do not have a punishment dynamic to go along with that.  I have read comments on FetLife from a few others in which they must obey or else suffer a punishment and I enjoy reading about that dynamic.  But I just obey regardless, because I am my wife’s slave.  I don’t consider the consequences of disobeying, it just doesn’t enter my mind to disobey.

That said, I do disobey from time to time because I am not at all perfect despite my always obedient intentions.  Mostly it is due to memory or lack of attention to details.

Wait, did I just now associate the term lack of attention to details with myself?  Now that is strange for me, because I consider myself a recovering perfectionist.  I have made an effort over the past 25 years not to obsess too much over details, once I recognized that I would typically go overboard in that area.  I am still very detail-oriented and analytical, but now that I am having to do things I never did before, I find that I sometimes unfortunately neglect details.

For example, my wife likes her bed covers tucked in at the foot of the bed.  I don’t like this on my side of the bed at all and never paid any attention to doing it before.  But now in the past year that I am responsible for always making the bed (which is a very quick and easy task each morning), I need to make sure that her bed covers are tucked in the way she likes it.

After I finished the laundry this past weekend I made the bed and I informally measured how far to pull her covers so that I could tuck them in just the way she likes it.  I was proud of myself for remembering, even though it’s just a simple thing.  Then, when she got home she told me to lie on the bed face down.  I figured that she just wanted to play a bit (and I was right) but then she asked me if I forgot something while making the bed.  With the paddle in her hand I quickly and fearfully said that I made it just the way she likes it but then she flipped up the bed cover, shoved it in my face, and said that it wasn’t tucked in.  I have visions of “no wire coat hangers!”  Damn!  How could I forget to tuck in the covers?!  Whack whack whack yell-in-pain whack beg-and-squirm whack etc.  I had 3 days to notice it but I missed it.  Idiot slave.

Later in the evening my wife was showing me something on FetLife and I was standing behind her.  I sometimes get a bit eager puppy-like when she and I talk about BDSM and I interrupted her so she raised her voice a bit (something she rarely does), pointed to the floor on the side of her chair, and told me “Sit!  And shut up until I tell you to talk!”  I know that my place in her room is to sit on the floor – the cold hard floor, by the way – and not to stand there like a free person but I guess after a week of not really feeling like her slave when she was out of town, my slave skillz deteriorate.  Obediently, I sat on the floor and pursed my lips together.  She talked more about what she was looking at on FetLife and just 30 seconds later I said something clarifying an issue.  In other words, I opened my big fat mouth despite a direct command not to.  I couldn’t even think of even the tiniest excuse.

My wife immediately gave me a wide-eyed “I can’t believe you did that, you are screwed!” look and I tightly pressed my lips together but it was too late.  She grabbed a nearby pair of solid metal pliers and told me to stick my lips out like Angelina Jolie, and then she clamped my lips together while she held the pliers.  She was not gentle and it hurt quite a bit to feel the metal of the pliers clamp on the flesh of both of my lips.  My wife kept hold of the pliers and said “That’ll make you shut up” as she continued to tell me about what she was looking at on FetLife.  With my mouth closed I could not yell in pain so I just whimpered or groaned while making sure to keep my hands away from trying to pry the pliers off my lips.  I am glad that I couldn’t yell because my wife wanted me to shut up so she could tell me about the FetLife issue.

My wife removed the pliers after about a minute (or probably only a half-minute, I whimper rather pitifully sometimes) and you can bet your last dollar that I zipped up my mouth tight until a couple of minutes later when she told me that I was to speak.  She was looking at a very long and detailed set of male slave protocols from a dominant woman’s profile I had sent to her (at her request after I mentioned the article while we were talking on the phone a few days ago) and one of the main protocols was “Obey” in bold letters.  I told her I like that protocol and she said “Oh really, I can’t tell?”  I thought she was just joking, like saying “Of course you love to obey, silly” but what she meant was that I was disobedient.  Moi?  No way!  I obey!

She pointed out, though, that I do disobey such as opening my mouth just minutes ago.  Oops, she had me there, dead in my tracks.  And I remembered about the bed covers, and I know that I fail to obey many other times.  I bowed my head in shame and acknowledgment of my shortcomings.  To help my understanding of how disobedient I am, or just because her inner little devil showed up, my wife grabbed the pliers again and with careful aim clamped them on one of my nipples, making sure not to grab the flesh around the nipple because that wouldn’t be as painful (“thank you Princess”, slave intones).  With my mouth unencumbered I yelled in pain, loud, though I covered my mouth with my hand so I wouldn’t hurt my wife’s ears.  “I promise to be a good slave!”  “You better!”

So we don’t have a punishment dynamic, but we do have a funishment dynamic.  And I love it, every little horrifying bit of it lol.  And my wife loves it because she can pick on me all she wants without feeling any guilt whatsoever, even when I am earnestly and honestly begging with puppy-dog eyes.  Later in the night, after inflicting some minor random 5-second torture or another on me, she told me that we had a lot of picking on to get caught up on.  My begging puppy-dog eyes turned into moon eyes of love.

I wonder what a punishment dynamic would look like in our relationship.  It would be very difficult because, and feel free to sing along here as I bring up my usual refrain, I love anything sadistic my wife does to me or has me do (other than hard limits).  I’m a glutton for her “punishment,” whether physical or mental.  I particularly love when my wife does things to me which I otherwise dislike.  Contradictory, but true.  There are plenty of things my wife could do to me that I would legit dislike (and she has done many of those types of things to me) and that I would actively try to avoid, but I would still love it because I would feel victimized.

I have read on FetLife that many dominants who use punishment like to take a painful activity and make it un-fun for the sub, such as not giving warm-up during a spanking or using a torture toy in a different way from when it is used during play.  But I love anything sadistic my wife does to me or has me do (other than hard limits) so I don’t know what would work as punishment.  My wife could go past my limit such as whacking me so hard and so much that I would just have to safe word but that wouldn’t seem to work, either, because it’d be like play (albeit I have only safe worded thrice so far in the past year).

What about not having a safe word at all during corporal punishment?  I have read about many who have this dynamic.  I don’t know what to think about it.  I am not a pain slut so it probably wouldn’t take all that much extremely hard whacking for me to try to tap out, but I don’t know what would happen if I were pushed past a safe word and not allowed to utter it (I know that this is fantasy land for some masochists but not for me, well maybe it is but in reality I don’t desire it).  I really don’t know how I feel about that but it doesn’t really matter because I am almost certain that my wife would not want that in any case.  Punishment isn’t meant to be fun for either participant and if it isn’t fun then my wife wouldn’t be motivated to have that dynamic.

So I don’t think a true punishment dynamic would work.  I am never disobedient to a level which legit angers my wife or makes her think that a true punishment is needed, so I think we are fine without a punishment dynamic, albeit the idea of it is hot.

Fortunately, funishment seems to work on me.  I don’t enjoy pain for its own sake so when I am feeling the pain or even the humiliation, if done well with lecturing etc. it can really drive the point home of whatever my wife is trying to funish me for.  It is too early to say the long or even medium term effects of the funishment my wife has applied to me in the past several months, but at least short term it seems to work so far (she might disagree lol).

I am not sure about random inadvertent disobedience, though.  What do others do about that?  If I am funished for speaking when not allowed to, for example, I think that would work short term to correct my behavior on that specific issue but what about the bazillion other little potential obedience issues?  I guess a dominant can funish for every little transgression, but that seems to be a lot of work for the dominant.  Although, I guess if it’s funishment then it would be fun work.

I suppose that some dominants use obedience training techniques for general obedience or work on specific tasks of obedience to focus on.  That seems rather advanced for us, we are rather new to BDSM and I don’t know much about this topic which is probably best reserved for dominants who might be in position to take advantage of the knowledge.

I have mentioned speech restrictions and I admit that it was really hot to not be allowed to speak.  I talk a lot (what a surprise lol) so to have to hold my tongue is not easy for me, and it seems like a violation of decency not to be allowed to speak (“violation of decency” = hot).

The slave protocols I mentioned earlier in this post list detailed speech restrictions for the slave.  However, my wife doesn’t at all like me to be silent because she loves when we talk so I don’t want to give the misleading impression that speech restriction is anything we do, it was just this one time last night.

On a separate topic, one thing I have noticed is that lately when I am motivated to write (which is at least a few times each day) I have been focusing much more on private messages with friends, blog posts, or FetLife group posts, rather than on my fictional stories.  It is much easier, of course, to write non-fiction or about my own thoughts than it is to write fiction, and it is very interesting to read the thoughts of others.  More importantly, writing non-fiction gives me a double dose of pleasure in not only being allowed to share my thoughts with others who might be reading this (thank you for reading this!) but also in focusing on pleasant memories.

Consequently, progress on my next fictional story has been very slow lately.  I consider my stories to be the most unique portion of my web site because there are a bazillion BDSM blogs out there (interestingly, each with their own slant and I enjoy reading several other BDSM blogs) and while there are many thousands of free fictional BDSM stories (http://www.bdsmlibrary.com is my favorite place for that) most of them are either short or focus on aspects of BDSM which are different from what I focus on in the stories I write.  All writers have their own style and what they focus on, which is great because it means more variety for readers.

In any case, I want to focus more on finishing my latest fictional story of Financial Domination because it feels good to complete and post a new story, and I want to get to the climax of the story.

I have an idea for a new story about a man who is an abusive molester, frequently pretending to be into BDSM and consensually tying up women and tormenting them, but always taking them past the safe word into abuse, especially women who are new to BDSM and may not recognize an abuser.  I will not go into any detail about that within the story because my site is about male submission and the thought of a woman being hurt is not easy for me or something I want to write about, I will simply mention his proclivities to set up his character (or lack thereof).  This man will meet a woman who turns the tables on him and he will really get what he has coming to him, eye for an eye style.  I usually write about male subs and victims I can identify with but not in this case, my sadistic side is going to really come out with this one and there may even be some unsafe and non-sane activities.  I anticipate the woman going too far, but then most of the dominants in my story go too far.

Hopefully my wife doesn’t get any ideas from that story!

Oct 10, 2012 – Some mild S&M

Disclaimer:  Any resemblance in this post to whining, complaining, or griping is purely not coincidental, it is me having fun and should in all cases should be interpreted 100% as fun, joy, and glee.

The disclaimer is not sarcastic but the title of this post, referring to last night, is sarcastic.  I feel different this morning as I am typing this.  Hard to explain, as if I have made it through hell, whole.  That which does not kill me makes me strong?

As I was cleaning the countertops after washing the dishes from dinner I burned myself slightly on the stovetop, which sits above the oven which was on as my wife was heating something.  It wasn’t a bad burn at all but it was right on my fingertip so it did hurt somewhat.  I didn’t tell my wife about this because I didn’t want her to think that I wouldn’t be ready for some S&M fun in case she had some fun in mind (little did I know!).  The finger was perfectly fine later in the evening.

I have a sadomasochist friend on FetLife named Leander_ (name added with his permission) who recently decided to share some of his wisdom about torture (learned from his wife) with my wife, with fun ideas for those large and pinching binder clips used in office workplaces.  Lesson learned, try not to make sadomasochistic friends!  (see disclaimer above, however)

Last night my wife had me lie on our bed face down and used the yoke she had made (see my most recent blog post) to chain my wrists and she used the velcro restraints on my ankles so that I was restrained spread-eagled.  Normally, I would not be in the yoke.  Wait, did I just use the word “normal” for a process in which I would be tortured and in agony?  Anyway, the yoke is new and feeling the heavy wood press on my head and the chains around my wrists added to the fear I was feeling.  I normally (there’s that word again) feel fear when torture is afoot but this time my sadomasochist friend had implied to me that he had been in contact with my wife, and while I had no idea what they had discussed or even that they had discussed anything (I wondered if my friend was just messing with my mind) and my wife had very successfully not given me any hint of anything abnormal (that word again!), I still felt an extra bit of fear.

Once I was restrained, my wife started whacking my behind with a crop, and a pillow from the bed fell loosely over my head.  My wife’s crop can really be painful so I started concentrating on my breathing, which seems to help.  She then brought out her gardening stick which she has recently begun to use on me.  It seems similar to a cane in terms of length and thickness but it does not have the flex of a cane and does not make the whippy sound when applied.  Nevertheless, it hurts a whole lot.  After just a few whacks the pain was pretty intense and I was yelling in pain into the bed sheet.

My wife then retrieved her new toys, the large sized binder clips, implements which I knew that my sadomasochist friend had recently experienced himself.  My friend’s comments to my wife were about to be put into action as my wife pinched my skin to grab some flesh for torture.  The first clip on my back was extremely painful and I didn’t think I could take much of it.  I don’t even remember the initial sounds I was making because I was in so much pain, and thrashing about within the restraints.  It wasn’t clipping enough of my flesh and apparently was falling off so my wife removed it and re-applied it to a larger glob of my flesh and then the pain was more manageable, albeit still enough to make me give a constant groan or whimper.  Then she started to apply another clip to my back.

How many of these damn clips can I take?  It doesn’t matter.  I suffer whatever my wife wants me to suffer.

As I felt the second clip applied, my constant groan grew louder and I decided to have an encore performance of a concert I gave during one previous occasion of very painful torture.  I sang.  I was not able to form a coherent thought as to what song I should sing but I tried to concentrate on the sound of my voice because the pain was continuous and tough to take.  Another clip.  More singing.  Another clip.  My singing sounded somewhat Native American and reminded me of the song by Enigma “Return to Innocence” (very good song, by the way) so that gave me a target for my vocal notes, although I don’t really think I hit the notes that well.  Another clip.

At about this point the pain from the first few clips was not that bad.  It felt as though the endorphins were activating – my white knight on a white horse!

I stopped singing and just breathed deeply as the sixth clip was applied.  After a few moments I told my wife that I think I felt endorphins and then I laughed briefly.  My wife took the opportunity to take photos of my tortured back and I have posted those pictures on my FetLife profile (Ted_subby), including a picture showing six bright red large clip-shaped marks on my back here https://fetlife.com/users/1261175/pictures/13895636.

My wife allowed me to savor a brief moment of joy before she started whacking me with her crop.  Oww!!!  Thankfully, she did not hit me much and instead moved on to her next exploit.  She lubed up her glass dildo and, seeing my behind exposed while I was breathing hard to try to withstand the pain, she said “I can’t pass up an opportunity like this.”  She slowly inserted the dildo and it was very cold so I guess that she had put it in the freezer or applied an ice pack to it.  This dildo is made from 3 or 4 small bulbs so not only is there a slight pop feeling upon insertion, but as the dildo is pushed deeper into me there are a couple more of those slight popping sensations as each bulb would enter.  A highly recommended product, by the way.  And with the cold I could feel every tiny movement of the dildo inside of me.

My wife put just the first bulb in me and twisted the dildo 360 degrees a few times inside of me.  It felt very good to me, when compared with the pain of my back or the earlier agony, and I was sort of laughing and oohing/aahing uncontrollably.  I felt very controlled by her.  Then my wife spent I guess the next 5 minutes pushing the dildo’s bulbs inside of me, pulling one or two bulbs out, in, spinning around 360 inside of me, etc.  I commented about how cold it was.  I didn’t really feel fully in control of my senses, which was a great feeling to me.

Once she pulled the dildo all of the way out I remembered that I had six clips on my back.  I am not sure how I forgot!   I did not have much time to contemplate that as my wife went to work on me with her crop, stick, and some whacks from her hard wooden paddle.

She worked over my behind, my thighs, my calves, and even my feet for several blows.  All of it hurt.  Geez did that hurt.  “Please I really can’t take any more, I can’t I can’t I can’t” followed by some expletives (not my fault, they were ripped out of me!).  The restraints did not pull my legs tight so my legs were thrashing about wildly but she kept hitting me with that damn stick.  I really felt that I couldn’t take any more and it did enter my mind to safe word but I gutted it out.

Even as I was taking the beating I realized that what I was suffering was probably mild compared to what other BDSM subs and bottoms suffer.  I am a lightweight when it comes to pain, or at least that’s my perception.  My wife pointed out a couple of times that I need to scream into the bed sheet so that my screams wouldn’t be heard out on the street or by neighbors (we do not live right next to neighbors but they are just a bit down the street).  At this point I wondered if I should disobey so that she would reduce the amount of pain in an effort to stop me from screaming.  So I thought about safe wording and I thought about being a brat.  But thankfully I did neither, and now in the calm of the next day I do not think I was actually all that close to doing either.

At some point during the beating my wife started to fiddle with the clips which were still attached to my back.  At first I thought that the clips were being removed and I was very glad for that, but she was just fiddling with them.  Then I felt a strand of string or thin cloth brush my back a couple of times and I knew what she was doing.

My wife was threading through the clips with the intention of ripping all of the clips off me.  This knowledge hit me like a ton of bricks and I knew that this was the advice which my sadomasochist friend had given to my wife.  That bastard!  (see disclaimer at the start of this post)  I am not a masochist like he is.  Why must I suffer like this?!!!

My fear level jumped through the roof and I yelled expletives into the sheet, though I don’t think my words were coherent.  Safe word or take it?  I seriously thought about safe wording because it wasn’t a matter of pain slowly building and then I can safe word if it got to be too much.  In my mind I envisioned all of the clips being ripped out at once in an orgy of literal agony, an activity I had read about before and which I even detailed in my fictional story Our New Slave.  I envisioned experiencing the most pain I had ever felt in my life, just as the poor slave in my fictional story.

To my relief, my wife stepped back so I had time to think about my fate.  I am not sure what my wife was doing but my entire body was literally shaking in fear.  It was not a physical shaking in that I didn’t worry that my body was going through too much trauma, I was just scared so much that I was shaking.  I don’t think my wife saw this as she was setting the dildo into the bathroom sink, although there were other times that parts of my body were shaking and my wife laughed at some of those times.  I was able to calm myself down after I guess 15 seconds and concentrate on breathing.

I hoped that the clips would be removed then but unfortunately, she resumed with the stick and crop beating.

I laughed, sucked in air, gurgled, breathed out loudly through my teeth several times, yelled expletives, screamed at the top of my lungs, cried some, begged, etc., my normal (that word again) reactions to very painful torture.  It probably didn’t last all that long but that is in the eye of the beholder, about 10 minutes of agony seemed like an eternity.  “I can’t take any more I can’t I can’t!”  At one point she put a seventh clip on my butt and just whacked around it, laughing at how my behind jiggled the clip.  Is it funny to put your loving husband through such pain?  Apparently.  I tried a bit of singing again but that didn’t really help me withstand the pain.  I really don’t know how I withstood the pain.

Finally, the beating stopped and I was exhausted.  Still, I knew that my time of reckoning was at hand, and I tried to brace myself emotionally for the agony of the clips being ripped out after being on me for around 20 minutes (my wife later confirmed this time estimate).

Well, it was much ado about nothing.  The clips were ripped out and there was no pain.  My wife and I hugged and then we watched some TV.  No, that’s not right.  I hate watching TV.  I need interactivity.  I can’t just sit there and be passive or else I get bored.  Hmmm, I’m not bored when I’m being tortured.  But I think screaming, yelling expletives, crying, and begging are interactive!

Back to reality here.  I thought that the way I was behaving might convince my wife not to go through with the plan to destroy me by ripping the clips off.  She started to fiddle again with one of the clips and I hoped that she would just show me mercy.  Internally I was begging with all I had, I’m not sure how much I verbalized it.

Mercy is not really in my wife’s vocabulary.  But luckily for me, the ripping would be one clip at a time.

She pulled on the threads and one of the clips was painfully pulled off my back.  To my surprise, while it did hurt it was not absolute agony.  I think all of the fear I had leading up to that point helped me deal with the pain when it occurred.  I don’t want to undersell the pain, though, because it did hurt a lot and probably I had some endorphins to help me deal with it.  Another clip was ripped off.  Then another, and the rest one at a time, with the one on my behind being the last.  I was very grateful that I had made it through.

Was this ordeal finally over?  No, my wife had to terrorize me with a few more whacks.  Then she removed the restraints.

Terror was a big part of the scene.  In between times when I was being tortured, I feared every moment that it would resume and I kept trying to look under the wooden yoke and the pillow to be able to see where my wife was, to try to anticipate the next torture.  Terror is a very effective tool to make me feel victimized.  A few times I didn’t know what she was doing but she was close to me and I said something like “What are you doing?!”  I’m sure that my wife could hear the desperate terror in my voice.  And then to think that the scene was over but to feel a few more whacks, that sort of thing really plays with a victim’s mind.

Even with the restraints removed I didn’t know if the scene was over and I was in terror with just about every move she made, please don’t hurt me any more.  To my relief she sat on the bed next to where I was lying and I hugged her leg and cried.  I sobbed.  But I’m not a baby! lol  I stopped crying after maybe 20 seconds and just moved up a bit and hugged the heck out of my wife as she hugged me back.  She started to caress my back and asked me if it hurt for her to do that, and I said no, so she pinched my back to make me owww loud in pain.  Someone call the Aftercare police!!!  She hugged the pain away and I never wanted the aftercare to stop.  A few minutes later she started to pull away but I asked for some more so we hugged for another few minutes.

So what do couples do after a session of torture and aftercare?  Sex?  Sexual service?  When we were done my wife told me to clean the bathroom.  That’s no joke!  Actually, neither of us particularly associate torture with sex.  I was somewhat physically aroused afterwards but in life I knew of my desire to be tortured long before I became sexually active so it is only a loose association for me.  And after an ordeal like that, I don’t know for certain how good I would be in bed to be honest.

So now I have a topic to discuss.  How are you (or your victim if you are a top or dominant) after a session of torture?  I find that my brain is not able to function well.  I walk around confused as to what to do next.  Should I turn off the light?  Make the bed?  I am just not sure.  My wife granted me some rest time at my PC before I had to clean the bathroom.

On Saturday after my wife had tortured me while I was in her yoke for the first time, I had messed up on a few of my chores, due to forgetting details (or forgetting the chore!).  I was slightly befuddled but that’s not a valid excuse.  Last night after torture I was similarly befuddled and messed up on several chores due to forgetfulness.  I am not talking about major chores, just 10-20 second responsibilities.

My wife’s attitude and my own thoughts were that I would be better at chores, even more than usual, after torture because I would be in a heightened state of submission.  I do feel extra submissive after torture but I just can’t think straight.  I am going to try to focus on that after the next session, to make sure that I do everything I should be doing as a slave.

Right before we went to bed for the evening my wife decided to help me remember to focus on chores.  I am very thankful that she wants to help me to be a better slave.  <gritting teeth in a smile while saying that>  She grabbed one of the binder clips and started pinching my skin to apply the clip, to help me remember in the future.  Thank you Princess!  I am weak and don’t take punishment well, so as usual I tried to beg off, with my somewhat high whining voice (I can’t help it), but I don’t even know why I try to beg, I guess it’s just in my nature.  She couldn’t grab a big enough clump of skin from my front so she told me to turn around and my poor back had to suffer again.

I whimpered and whined as I brushed my teeth and then as I was walking through the kitchen I noticed one more chore I had forgotten.  Damn!!!!

I returned to the bedroom and after my wife removed the clip from my back she laughed that I was physically aroused despite (or actually because of) the pain.  I then told her about the additional missed chore.  She was somewhat incredulous, as was I.

As punishment for that she had me lie on the bed and she clipped one of those large binder clips over 3 of my toes.  Geez that hurt!  I literally whimpered/groaned for the few minutes it was on.

Every night my wife requires me to beg on my knees to be allowed to sleep in the bed.  One time she said no (I blogged about that very unpleasant experience), so every night my begging is real.  Tonight it was real, damn real, and I am sure she could tell that the look on my face had more begging in it than usual.  She asked if I deserved to sleep in the bed, with the tone of voice that I had been a bad boy, and I said “Whatever Princess decides” as my voice broke a bit and my head bowed.  I was allowed to sleep in the bed, and as I jumped into bed and spooned her I felt very grateful.  I promised to be a good slave.

Today I am thinking about the volume of responsibilities I have as a slave.  It really isn’t a big volume compared to other BDSM slaves, I think, but when I do think about it there seem to be a whole lot of little things, and if I stop thinking as a slave as I did late last night, I am neglecting my duties.  I think that is one reason that lately I have been feeling more like a slave than usual, yes helped by the torture and random beatings, but also by the fact that I need to think like a slave much of the time.  Oh and the chains I have been required to wear over my neck over the past few days.

Why has most of this blog post seemed like complaining?  Why don’t I just say the truth which is that I love when this happened or I love when that happened?  As I mentioned earlier (and I think in a few previous blog posts), I am not a masochist.  Is your eyebrow raised at that?  Well, I don’t enjoy pain for its own sake and I wouldn’t enjoy pain perpetrated on me (such as the torture I described in this post) unless I could sense my wife’s enjoyment and sadism.  Unlike my sadomasochistic friend, I don’t suffer in order to feel endorphins or the pain itself, I suffer in order to feel the emotional and psychological victimization under the administration of a sadist, my wife.

What goes on in my mind as I am suffering torture?  It isn’t “Yes, that is great, please keep going.”  My begging for mercy is all real, no role play at all.  At the moment I want the torture to stop and I would do most anything, please, anything!  But that gets back to a blog post of mine from a few months ago, that I am sort of two people as I am being tortured.  The one in the forefront who sincerely begs and doesn’t like the torture, and the one always present in the back of my mind who just loves being treated that way.  The lover is always much stronger and I do love the treatment whether it’s suffering or service, but the one in the forefront is the guy who just wants to love his wife without suffering any torture or slavery.

I’m over-dramatizing the issue, but it is how I feel to a certain degree.  On FetLife I have read posts from dominant women something like “I want my sub to hate the torture I am inflicting on him but when it is done I want him to absolutely love having gone through it.”  Seeing that makes me feel better because that is how I feel, and it helps to know that my confusing feeling is not that uncommon

And there is a third person within me as I am being tortured.  A part of me is above the action looking down, thinking “Make that bitch suffer hahahaha!!!!”  Does that make me partially a sadist?

Today I feel different from how I normally feel.  I think the feeling I have is a love of what I went through last night, certainly enough love for me to write a long blog post about it.

Oct 7, 2012 — Chains of love

Yesterday was a wild ride and early this morning so far it is continuing.  For the first time in my life I am in chains.  Heavy physical chains, not just chains of love.  And loving it, of course.  And it wasn’t even the best part of the day yesterday.

Yesterday afternoon I had finished loading one of the loads of laundry and about to vacuum the entire house (how many times before BDSM entered our lives about a year ago had I done the laundry or vacuumed the house? approximately zero), when my wife walked into my PC room with a 6-foot long thick and heavy wooden stick.  Was she going to beat me with it?  It would certainly break bones and give me splinters (several months ago I posted a blog entry about an accidental wooden splinter, I’m not sure whether or not breaking bones would be worse!).

My wife told me to wrap heavy tape around the stick to cover it completely.  Then as I began vacuuming she went to Home Depot.  What is this about?  From her hints I could tell it had something to do with BDSM but she had never done something like this without talking with me about it first.  She typically gets ideas from me, either from what I write (and I write a lot of fiction and blog and FetLife posts) or what we talk about (and we talk a lot), although she sometimes also gets ideas from friends we meet on FetLife.

She returned and I was not yet done vacuuming.  I admit that I take breaks, I never claimed to be a perfect slave.  She loosely wrapped a heavy short chain around my neck and told me to finish up.  Vacuuming is tough enough work moving furniture around and getting in the couch cushions and corners of the room, and with a heavy chain to drag around it was not easy work.

However, for the first time in my life I somewhat enjoyed vacuuming.  I feel like such a tool!

Anyway, when I was done my wife had finished working on the stick and she told me to sit on the floor.  She had me lift the stick with my hands at each end and put the stick over the back of my neck.  Then she took the two chains she had bought, wrapped them each around one of my wrists, and attached them to eye bolts at the ends of the long stick.  She stepped back and watched as I realized my wrists were chained to the stick and I was in a sort of yoke, with my arms stretched out as far as they could go.

A yoke.  Like a pack animal.

She told me to stand up but that was a joke with the yoke.  I had no leverage so she helped me stand and then she had me turn sideways to get through doors and walk into the bedroom.  My wife had to add comments about me being a slave and a pack animal, haha very funny.  In fact, she laughs a lot these past several months.  Well, good for her (and for me).

Bondage was not enough for her, though.  She told me to stand facing the bed as she retrieved my belt.  Whack on my back.  She straps me with my belt frequently and even from the very first blow it hurts like a son-of-a-gun (that wasn’t the phrase I was yelling at the moment, though).  After a few whacks on my back and behind I guess I was too loud because she kept shushing me.  Shushing me?  It’s not my fault I’m loud!

So she had me get on my knees, with her assistance, and lean my chest against the bed.  Now maybe this might not seem like much bondage, just having wrists in chains attached to a yoke resting on the back of my neck, but I could not have escaped if I wanted to.  I could not stand up due to having no leverage, I could not fall forward due to the bed being against my chest, I could not fall backwards because my legs were there, I could not shift my legs backward because I could not fall forwards, and I could not move to the sides due to leverage.  The only thing I could have done was maybe literally fall from gravity to the side but then it’d be crash bang and I would end up literally smashing my back to the floor.

So I was stuck.  And the belt started whacking me again.  And again and again.  This time my wife was much happier as all of my screaming was muffled into the bed covers.  Happy wife is good, that’s what I want.  There was a lot of screaming because I felt so victimized in that position and well, the pain hurt!  It is sort of a classic or stereotypical slave position and my wife verbally pointed it out several times to me as she whipped me.

The combination of not seeming to be in much bondage but actually not being able to move much at all was very interesting.  And the feel of the chains was great, of course.

Once my wife had heard enough of my screaming she assisted me in moving away from the bed and told me to lie on my stomach on the floor.  She may as well have told me to fly to the moon but she continued to assist me until I was in the position she wanted, prostate on the floor with my lips pressed to her bare feet.  Then she used our new flogger on my butt while I continued to kiss her feet.

I don’t think I have ever heard of that position being used for flogging but it worked great, she stood near my head and whacked my butt with the flogger.  The flogger would hit one butt cheek and then the other, and really focus the force on the underside of the cheek.  After a few blows it was really hurting and my foot kissing transformed from yummmm to pleeeeassse.

Once she was done she walked away and left me there for about 20 minutes (it isn’t easy to tell time when I am being victimized).  I could only lie there and suffer the discomfort of my arms not being able to move much and the cold hard floor against my body (I am lying about that, actually I was fortunate this time to be on a throw rug), not to mention the lingering sting from the whippings.

Finally, at her whim, she used the quick release and removed my wrists from the chains.  It felt like a luxurious privilege to be able to move my arms into my body so I stood up and hugged myself hard as she hugged me in brief aftercare.  I thanked her profusely for letting me be free of bondage and letting me serve her.  Later in the evening she put one of the chains around my neck to wear for a few hours and when we went to bed and she removed that chain, I felt the luxury again of being shown mercy.

One of the unexpected things I enjoy about suffering pain and bondage is when it is over it feels so wonderful to be free again.  It sort of makes me cherish my freedom.  Strange but true.

I mentioned earlier that I loved the chains but that they were not the best part.  The yoke was great also but that’s not what I meant.  The best part is that my wife did something of her own initiative and planning, and sprung it on me.  I loved that, and I love her.

This morning, though, would be about pleasure, not pain or bondage.  Finally after 1 week I would be allowed to have an orgasm.  She had been keeping me chaste off-and-on over the past couple of months and this week it was on, but Sunday morning is good because I’ll be watching the NFL anyway so my lack of libido on Sundays (from having cum) does not affect her negatively.  As usual, once we were both awake in bed she put her feet in my face and then several minutes later when she told me to flip up (I blogged about that yesterday fyi) my heart lept for joy.

But wait, even in the dark I could hear that she was still facing me, so I couldn’t spoon her.  What’s wrong?  She had me lie on my back next to her and she started giving me a hand job.  Wow, okay, that feels great.  Then she started talking to me in a sort of condescending and controlling voice.  “What did you forget yesterday?”

Oh shit.  She is going to bust me on some chore issues I forgot yesterday.  I blogged yesterday that I have a lot of improvement to make as a slave.  What I conveniently leave out of these blogs are any details of that.  I did make mistakes of omission yesterday and as soon as I heard her ask me that and with that tone of voice, I knew that she would not let me have an orgasm.  Damn!  I really need to be a better slave!

I’m not sure if I should even go into any detail but let’s just say that I begged with all of my heart, it was rather high-pitched and seemed very wimpy, but it was all I had.  I even cried a bit.  But I knew that once I begged she would not relent because that would make her seem weak.  She is not weak and she had probably planned this anyway.  Resistance is futile.  I knew it but I couldn’t help but beg.

So when will my chastity be over?  It feels like a game show, spin the wheel and hope for the best.  Except there is no wheel and it isn’t a game.  It is at her whim, exactly where we want it to be.

So now I am typing this with those heavy chains around each wrist, and I suspect that they will stay on me all day.  I am going to estimate that they are 4 pounds each but it’s hard to judge when they are on my wrists.  It is somewhat difficult to type but not too bad, my arms seem to be getting a bit of a workout.  Hmm, maybe that’s part of her plan.

Note just in case it isn’t clear:  I absolutely loved every moment of what I posted in this blog entry.  I’m just a big baby whiner.

I almost forgot.  Late last night before bed my wife was on her PC and looking at another guy’s dick, getting a whole lot of enjoyment from it.  Yes my reaction exactly.  WTF??

There is a dynamic in some /m relationships in which the sub male is humiliated and laughed at for having a small dick.  Some guys really love that dynamic.  I have read stories about this (fictional and non-fiction) and it isn’t a dynamic I understand but to each their own, I figured that many sub guys enjoy being humiliated and being made fun of for having a small dick is certainly one of those ways.  I also figured that some dominants enjoy this because of the reaction of the sub.  The sub is humiliated and so the dominant enjoys it.

But my wife was looking at a guy’s profile on FetLife and laughing at the small size of his dick.  There was no sub’s reaction, it was just pure laughter.  She was getting a huge amount of pleasure from it.  I went into her room and started laughing myself, not at the guy’s dick (ewwww), but at my wife.  She kept browsing picture after picture and laughing with almost each one.  He had on a chastity device and even fully erect didn’t fill it.  Ok, even I laughed a bit at that.

Oct 5, 2012 – Benefits and how much is good

I have been rolling the topic of this blog entry around in my head for a few days now.  I want to discuss a few of the benefits my wife is experiencing from having a slave but I don’t want my post to seem as though I am complaining about my added responsibilities (which I am not) and I certainly don’t want to brag about being a good slave (which I am not).  I am an average slave at best, as slaves within BDSM go, although I am good for my wife which is all that counts for me (I still have a lot of room for improvement there).  I suspect that most slaves have many more responsibilities and have a lot more difficulties than I have, I am very lucky.  So that is completely not the point of this post, and that is why I hesitate to discuss this issue at all.

So I won’t.

Let’s talk about breath play.  Okay, no just joking, I will forge on to discuss benefits.

The benefits I gain from being my wife’s slave are clear to me, and should be at least somewhat clear to you if you have been reading some of my previous blog entries.  I frequently discuss those benefits in other entries of this blog.  Clear doesn’t mean easy to explain but I get to live the slave lifestyle I want and it is to the most wonderful person in the world for me.  One thing I don’t do enough in this blog is mention how much I love my wife.  I love her a whole lot, much more than I love the slave lifestyle (which is saying a lot).

Anyway, I haven’t even started on the topic yet.  One of my needs as my wife’s slave is for my wife to enjoy and/or receive benefit from my slavery.  Imagine how empty it would feel to slave away but have the Master or Mistress have no preference on the task being completed or, worse, prefer not to even have a slave? <shudder>  Early on my wife saw some benefits in not only having a more energetic and playful hubby but also more fun with interactions (play) and receiving some tangible benefits such as massages and additional chores which I would not be doing if we were not M/s.

But wait, there’s more.  Over the months since BDSM entered our lives about a year ago my wife has been finding ways to grab more benefit.  It is one thing for us to together find ways for her to receive more pleasure and enjoyment, it is even better for her to identify benefits and take them from me.  I am hers for the taking, and I love that.

One thing she has taken from me, as I have mentioned before on this blog, is male chastity at her whim.  She decided a few months ago that I would not pleasure myself there again, except at her direction (which is rare and usually just for humiliating myself in front of her), and I have not had much difficulty with that, to be honest (except when she was out of town).  During our over 15 years of marriage it never occurred to us that intercourse does not need to include an orgasm for me.  Twice a week was great but who knew that this could be significantly increased simply by disallowing me from having an orgasm?  So now when we have intercourse she often simply pushes me out once she has had enough.

I feel used.  The clear thought is “I got mine!”  She even laughs whenever she pushes me away, every single time.  The laugh is not just a reaction to the physical pleasure, the laugh is clearly sadistic “No soup for you hahahaha!”

As usual, I am over-dramatizing.  “I feel used” oh poor baby.  The reality is that I love feeling used by her!  Here she is getting clear benefit (actually it’s more like 2 or more) and then pushing me out without release.  I love when she takes advantage of her slave … me!

We sleep in opposite directions so my head is near the foot of the bed.  Most mornings when we wake up she slides her bare feet either into my face or taps my back with them and I know my role which is to turn over and bury my face in her feet (to sort of paraphrase Apocalypse Now, I love the smell of feet in the morning!), while I rub her legs with my hands, and with her fingers she rubs my you-know-what (stop laughing at my use of the term y-k-w, lol).  Talk about ultimate T&D!  Omg that feels great, having a fetish for my wife’s feet definitely has benefits for me.  Can I skip work today and we’ll just keep doing this all day?

But she is using me just to get me ready for her.  After several minutes she tells me to flip up to spoon her or climb on top and then 2-4 different positions later she pushes me out of her, or she says “You may cum” and my heart leaps for joy!  Ok, that’s an exaggeration, my heart leaps for joy as soon as soon as she tells me to flip up.  There’s just an added leap when she gives me that final permission.  Sometimes she tells me ahead of time and sometimes she just waits until close to the moment of truth.

So there’s a benefit to my wife, as much you-know-what as she wants.  And how do you think it feels for a slave to be able to provide a lot of pleasure to his Owner?  Not to mention a husband providing pleasure to his wife?  Freakin’ great!!!

My wife also knows that I will clean whatever dishes she leaves in the sink.  She is still a bit hesitant about it, as if she is inconveniencing me.  She is inconveniencing me but I am her slave so if she deems it to be my role then I do it with a smile on my face and I am glad that she is using me as her slave.

A few days ago I was washing the dishes when my Princess walked up to the sink to rinse her hands.  As usual, my senses went on alert so that I do whatever I can to avoid being in her way (picture a Princess in a castle walking into a servant area and how they all bow and scrape to please her, I don’t think my wife particularly expect that treatment but it’s how I am to a certain degree).  After a second or two when my wife was done rinsing her hands she said paper towel so I started to reach over to get one for her but she surprised me with something amazing (caution, over-drama here again).

Apparently I was too slow so she wiped her hands on my bare chest and walked away.

Amazing, isn’t it?  Okay, I know that most anyone reading this would wonder what the heck I am going on about.  Well, not only was I objectified by this (+), serving as a human dishrag (+), and not only was I inconvenienced (dare I say slightly victimized) by having to then wipe the water off my own chest (++), but she walked away as if it was nothing (+++).  She treated me like a lowly slave!

Sweetie, I know you are going to read this, this is my way of saying thank you. <3

There are plenty of more small gestures she requires of my status such as sitting on the cold hard floor (I don’t just say floor, I emphasize it by saying cold hard floor lol) and massaging lotion into her feet for 15-30 minutes or serving as her footrest while she watches TV, every day filling her water containers with the filtered water she likes or filling her bag of ice in the freezer (I hate to think of the freezer because it reminds me of that damn ice pack she puts on my bare back during torture … ok, I love it, I cannot lie), having to do 50 pushups a day and eat fruit whenever she says to (ok I am being silly now, though truthful), and begging every night for the privilege of sleeping in the bed next to her (so she can usually use me the next morning!).

And the best part for me is that she initiates all of it, whether it is at the moment or rules she implements such as the pushups or making the bed every morning.  I don’t say “I want you to make me to do xxx”, that to me would be ridiculous for our dynamic.  She initiates it which is a clear message to me that she wants it, whatever it is, and I obey.

I don’t want to give an incorrect view, though.  As each other’s spouse and best friend we offer and do nice things for each other, and I cherish that.  The stuff I am writing about is slave work, stuff which I probably would not be doing if I were not her slave, she commands and I obey and we both benefit.

Moving on. I recently asked a 24/7 slave friend of mine slavegail if she would prefer to have fewer chores and responsibilities.  In her case, she spends most days painting, cleaning, etc. (in addition to very exciting duties which I will not relate here) for her Master and Mistress Owners.  When I read about many hours of chores I think that while it’s wonderful to be a 24/7 slave, I just couldn’t handle a life of all those chores.  Well, maybe I could if I didn’t work fulltime.  In any case I asked her hesitantly about this because I did not want to imply that I felt bad for her having to do all of those chores, I was just wondering.  To my surprise, she told me that she prefers to be kept busy.

This fit with my feelings I have mentioned earlier about my own dynamic:  what worth is a slave if Master or Mistress does not use the slave as a slave?

So how much is good?  I think that most of the partnered friends I have met through FetLife are asking themselves this question.  Perhaps one wants more BDSM than the other, or perhaps they are questioning it within themselves.  It is nice to think of partners entering into BDSM together with the same amount of desire but that is often just not the case.  Consequently, there is discussion – hopefully plenty of it – and sometimes negotiation on how much is good.  And I think it helps to have others to discuss these issues with, not because the others have more expertise but just to bounce ideas off.  After all, why re-invent the wheel?  In any case I enjoy discussing all of these issues and it is especially rewarding/pleasurable to me to be able to help (and not just because I am a sub!).

Several weeks ago one of my friends I met through FetLife helped me with advice.  Bonimiss has a very enjoyable blog at http://bonbon.kinky-blogging.com/ in which she tends to write more about topics whereas I write more about experiences (this blog entry excluded).  Bonimiss told me that her philosophy is to play her position.  I interpreted this as instead of worrying so much about what my wife is getting out of BDSM or what she is doing, I should concentrate on my own role and stop subtly pressuring my wife.  To my surprise I have been successful at this lately (surprise because even now after 1 year of our journey I am still a kid in a candy store) and my wife has confirmed that she is glad that I am not pressuring her about more BDSM.

I compare this to my career in which for over a dozen years I was sort of a lone support person whereas lately I work in a corporation.  In the corporation I must play my position, focus on my own role, because not only is that enough work for one person but also I would get in trouble if I tried to do some of the things I would do at previous jobs.  As a famous person from the late 1990s and early 2000s used to say, Know Your Role!  To which my wife adds “Shut Your Hole!”

Sorry for the tease earlier.  I don’t have much to say about breath play except that I know it is a very controversial topic regarding safety.  My wife and I enjoy when she covers my nose and mouth for a bit but not to the point where I pass out, so we avoid the safety issue altogether.  I enjoy most any activity in which I can give my wife true begging PDE (puppy-dog eyes) from the heart, and for her to disallow me to breathe definitely elicits my PDE instincts. My wife used to have to blindfold me to avoid the power of the PDE but she has grown much greater resistance to it lately.  And of course “Please, I will do anything you say” stopped working a long time ago because I am her slave, after all, and that goes without saying.  I still have a few begging tricks up my sleeves, though, lol.