Dec 21, 2012 – New toys

“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.

Dec 14, 2012 — Whining

(reminder note:  whining means a good time was had by all)

Last night was an horrific experience.  As we were watching the NFL game last night my kind and sweet Princess wrapped a somewhat heavy chain around my neck, pulled on it to drag me off the couch and onto the floor, and chained me to a table, with only about 3 feet of lead on the chain.  I had to sit on the cold hard floor and reach sideways to massage her dangling feet while we watched the game.  How many 49 year olds are required to sit on the cold hard floor?  Do I hear violins?  Ok, I’m not so naïve to believe that many other 49 year olds aren’t required by their dominants to sit on the floor.  But still!

After my Princess stopped watching the game (it was a boring game but I continued to watch) and she checked her e-mail in the other room I was allowed to sit on the couch (I think my puppy-dog eyes gave me some benefit there) but due to the length of the chain I could only just sit on the edge of the couch and I had to sit uncomfortably to be able to do anything on my PC.  From time to time my Princess would grab the chain and force me to the floor again on my knees at her feet, shaking the chain back and forth several times laughing and just lording her dominance over me.  (By the way, is that fair or is there a grievance I can file?)

She did give me about a half hour of releasing the chain from the table so that I could use both hands to sit on the floor and lotion her feet, and that felt good to at least have some freedom of motion.  During that time I admit that when I went to the restroom I cheated and took an aspirin so the stiffness in my body from all of the discomfort wouldn’t impede my ability to sleep.  But then it was back to being chained up for literally the rest of the night until we went to bed.

Once the chains were finally off and I lie in bed it felt absolutely luxurious to be without the chain and I felt like I could straighten my back for the first time in hours.  It’s funny the comforts to cherish when without them for a time.  I have had many days of having to wear the 3 pounds of chains around my neck but actually being chained to something restricting my posture was a big difference.  Late that night My Princess had the irony to ask me if I had played that night the PC game I have been enjoying lately Assassin’s Creed 3.  She then laughed and said “Oh yeah, you couldn’t because you were chained up all night!”  Ha ha ha.

So when do I get the slave country club membership?  I was told that there would be all sorts of benefits to slavery but so far it’s been all just chains, feet, chores, French maid outfits, having my toes painted a deep crimson, sexual slavery, and so on.  I have not yet received word on the slave country club, ombudsman, weeks off from responsibilities, days of being pampered, etc.  I read somewhere that there is a BDSM slave who believes that service is its own reward.  What a sap!  I’m in it for the country club, I can’t wait to try the buffet!  My invitation must be pending.

For some reason I am having a difficult time remembering at the right time one specific new task my Princess has assigned to me, which is to adjust a blanket in a particular way on a couch in our den so that she can sit comfortably.  It’s the room I am in most of the time when I am home (since it has my PC in it) but I need to focus much much better on that blanket than I have been doing.  When my Princess sees the blanket in an unacceptable state from the last time she sat there, I receive her exasperated look and sometimes I get beaten with the stick she keeps in that room.  Damn that stick stings, it literally only takes me one or two blows to start yelling in pain, but one or two blows are rarely the extent of the funishment.  She sometimes likes to have me lie on the floor and put my bare feet up on the couch for her to beat my soles with that stick.  It’s kind of difficult for me to ask for mercy or even whine when the beating is my fault due to forgetting about the blanket for the umpteenth time.  And I can’t even think of a decent excuse (that’s almost a first!).

Speaking of whining, I read frequently on FetLife that many dominants tell their submissive(s) to have complete and open honesty but at what point does the desired openness become unwanted whining?  I read frequently “my sub is required to tell me everything he is feeling” but geez if I told my Princess every single thing I felt then I’d be whining all day long!!!  Ok, that’s a large exaggeration but still, I wouldn’t think a dominant would want to hear things like “I need to fetch you more water?  Your cup is still halfway full!”  I guess the answer to my concern is that there is a balance.  But if it’s a balance they want then it’s very confusing for me to read “my sub is required to tell me everything he is feeling.”  I tend to take things very literally (to avoid confusion) so if my Princess gave me a command like that I would ask help in understanding that further, and after over 15 years of marriage I don’t think we need a rule like that at all anyway.

I also read on FetLife that many dominants (a large majority, if what I read is representing the majority) do not want to hear any whining from their sub(s) unless the issue is important.  I’ve had one dominant tell me that he’d slap the taste out of his slave’s mouth if he heard his slave whine like I whine online, or he didn’t state it in that way but that was the gist.  Actually, I think I’ve done a good job of not whining too much to my Princess and I only do it to help focus for both of us the feeling of the dominance she has over me, that she is dominating me in addition to my serving her.  In other words, if it was always service with a smile (as it is usually but not always) then I believe she and I would both get less enjoyment out of it.  Hmmm, if I did try the always service with a smile approach then my Princess would probably ramp up the level of cruelty until I whined, so I better not stop myself too much from whining or I’d be suffering even more.

In your submission do you think about your dominant’s perception of your level of whining?  In your dominance do you give your sub some leeway to whine a bit?  I get the impression that a lot of subs pride themselves in their ability not to whine at all, but I don’t have much pride lol.  It’s fun to whine at least a bit.

On a separate subject, I have heard from a couple of different guys who get great enjoyment from being restrained, humiliated, and tickled.  Tickling is a very popular activity, though I know that many who enjoy BDSM do not at all enjoy tickling.  I really enjoy the dynamic of helplessness and restraint when I read tickling stories but I’m just not ticklish much at all so it is difficult for me to relate to the feelings.  To be restrained against one’s will (consensual non-consent) and made extremely uncomfortable or even in pain from tickling, helpless, begging for it to stop, etc. seems great to me and very similar to S&M play involving pain except that it’s only touching and nothing as extreme as pain torture so tickling torture is probably even more humiliating.  I am a bit ticklish on the soles of my feet after bastinado and I like that feeling of wanting to pull my foot away while not being able to, but the ticklish feelings go away for me just several seconds after the tickling begins.  Damn!

I have also read comments from submissive guys who list tickling as a limit, they just don’t want it at all.  Like everything, it’s all up to the individual.  From a dominant’s point of view, I would guess that many tops enjoy when their bottom is ticklish because a top can really get a lot of reaction from just a bit of touching.