“I want a new toy (oh ay oh), nothing too demanding.” Well, maybe those are bad song lyrics to quote except for that part of the Lena Lovich song. Maybe her other song about her favorite number being 2 would be a more applicable song.
Before she left to go out of state for a week, a few nights ago my Princess showed me that she had purchased a couple of new toys for us. She must’ve liked my reaction to those toys at Mr. S. a few weeks ago (no I wasn’t reacting in … that … way in the store but she knew I would react that way once we were alone), and she also felt that she would enjoy inflicting those on me. She purchased a hood and a wartenberg wheel. Score!
The hood is a thin material with a large hole for my mouth. It is about as tight as the first one I tried at Mr. S., constricting and feeling like my head is being pushed in from all directions, but not overbearing. Once my Princess put the hood on me I could breathe fine of course because of the mouth hole but I felt like my world was contracted down to nothing. I can see light and shadows through the hood so she will probably augment with a blindfold and perhaps ear plugs. It was natural for me to keep my eyes closed with the hood on anyway, because just seeing silhouettes was not useful to me and I wanted not to see.
I heard her opening the wartenberg wheel package and was bracing myself for a slow roll of the wheel’s pins against my arm or leg. I had never seen one of those in action so that’s sort of what I expected, slowly rolling it over the skin. But nope, not my Princess, zzziiippp there it goes careening on the flesh of my thigh in a few quick scrapes. Owwww!!! That thing is sharp! Am I bleeding? I didn’t ask that out loud, I knew better than to think it would be bleeding just from a few quick rolls.
After that the focus had to be on CBT. Of course. I guess it’s just too tempting for my Princess when CBT is just there for her taking rather than dilly-dallying around with other areas of the body. I felt what was about to happen and thought don’t tell me that those damn sharp pointy things are going to be run along my C or B. Yes of course they were, right on the head. Freak out, leFreak! The pain was moderate but as with any CBT for me the pain is amplified by the freak out factor. I envisioned puncturing, rupturing, and gushes of blood pouring out. I am over-dramatizing my thoughts, as usual, and I did not come close to fully freaking out at all (I haven’t yet fully freaked out with a BDSM activity unless you count screaming at the top of my lungs which I have done many times), but I did have to steady myself from getting off the couch and running blindly in a random direction. That didn’t stop me from yelling loud, though … pitiful and very un-“manly” yells, as usual.
My Princess mercifully moved on to use the wheel on my arms, thighs, shins, and soles of my feet, probably to save her eardrums, though I was not silent during a quick roll of the wheel anywhere (my slow roll of the wheel notion never panned out whatsoever!).
I’ve mentioned before that BDSM and sex are not directly related for my Princess and me, but on this night after a few minutes of subjecting me to the wheel while I was in the hood, my Princess pulled me by the you-know-what into the bedroom, making sure that I didn’t bump into the doorway. I admit that part of her exuberance was due to the holiday gift I gave her earlier that night and the cards and hugs we had shared as well. But I don’t think it was my imagination that my being in the hood added to our enthusiasm. Later she assured me that while I was hooded she was not envisioning me as George Clooney lol.
Once the hood was pulled off after maybe a half hour, I felt like a great weight was lifted off me. It is not overbearing at any one moment but being in the hood for more than a minute or two really made me feel under a black cloud of her cruelty and being able to remove it made me savor the freedom. As I mentioned previously about the time I had to sleep on the hard floor that one night over a half year ago, the luxury of everyday things such as a soft bed or an un-hooded head are sweet after a time when they are denied.
Happy holidays! And may you not be denied … unless you want to be.