Starting a FemDom marriage in the Vanilla Kingdom

Archive for January, 2007

Sweet Release

Late last night I was IMing with Mistress Trecia working on some of the many projects she has tasked me with when she suddenly says that she wanted me to drop everything I was doing and call her.

I phone up Mistress and we share some small talk, then she tells me to get on cam.  I hurriedly set up my "shrine" (throwing down my kneeling mat and plugging in my web cam) and then quickly strip.  (During my previous cam session, Mistress Trecia said I should be naked whenever I am on cam with her.)  Kneeling naked in front of the cam, we then continue our small talk for a few minutes, when Mistress mentions that she read my post about how much I’ve been aching lately and lamenting about how long its been since I was last allowed release.

She then demanded that I start stroking her cock.

In just a few minutes time, I was right at the edge, moaning and trying to talk to Mistress through my panting.  Mistress just laughed, saying "look at you!" as I struggled at the egde, completely unsure if this was a tease or if she would grant me some sort of release.

The torture contined as we discussed my upcoming trip and she again described the scene for me, kneeling naked at her feet, her making me rub against her feet and legs, towering over me and taunting me as a hung on the edge.  This, of course, made my current effort to not cum all the more difficult, my cock dripping pre-cum like a faucet.

At that point, the pressure was too much and I started to beg and plead for release.  "Please, Mistress.  Please.  Please let me cum.  Please…  "

Suddenly, Mistress’s light, taunting tone turned extremely stern and she commanded, "Come now!  NOW!  That cum is mine and I want it!"  It wasn’t more than a few strokes later and I was shooting spurt after spurt of sticky cum onto the carpet.    (Note to self:  Invest in a steam cleaner.)

Even before I was done cuming, Mistress said "Keep going - I want it all…" which meant I had to keep stroking my oh-so-sensitive cock, my body almost convulsing from the mix of exstacy and pain that can only come at that special moment.  It was my turn to beg again, asking Mistress for mercy and permission to stop.

When she finally gave the command, I stopped and fell forward to brace myself on the floor, my body shaking, sweat pouring from my brow, and the intoxicating after glow already coursing through my veins.  From some other planet, I heard Mistress’s voice say "good boy" and then sign off our call. 

After a few minutes, I was able to regain my composure and started the clean up, mopping my cum out of the carpet and getting redressed. 

That night, I slept a fit, dreamless sleep, oblivious to the world, just basking in the subspace buzz and the knowledge that I had pleased Mistress.

No comments

Pushing Boundaries

In most D/s relationships, a dynamic exists where the Domme will test and try to expand the limits of their sub.  This is good for the "scene" for many reasons.  First, spending every session inside your safety zone gets old after awhile.  It’s fun to try new things and to explore facets of your sexuality.

Foremost, however, is that allowing someone else to test your limits takes a huge amount of trust.  You have to trust that the Domme won’t push you too far, too fast.  You also put your safety in their hands, as many types of punishment, electro-play, or other BDSM fare can be risky and you are trusting the Domme to be knowledgeable of the risks and play safely.  Finally, you’re trusting that should things go too far that the Domme will respect your safe word and have the session pause or stop.  (I’ve had issues with this in the past and, although I’m much more comfortable after so much communication with Mistress Trecia, I was really  nervous due to my trust issues.)

Since Mistress and I first met, she has been slowly pushing my boundaries.  Having never been in a "virtual" D/s relationship, I didn’t expect this to happen outside of an "in person" session.  However, it dawned on me yesterday that she has been expanding my limits ever since our first meeting.

The first thing that’s been completely new for me is the whole tease/denial dynamic.  It fits really well into both my power exchange and forced orgasm kinks and is a real challenge for me, so it’s been a new and exciting experience overall.  Mistress is also slowly increasing the time between my releases, "training me for the marathon" as she put it.  (She painted a graphic picture of me kneeling at her feet with her stroking my hair as I was forced to hold the edge right in front of her.  As hard as this is when I’m alone at home, I imagine it will be so  much more difficult when I’m in her presence.)

In addition to the denial and edge play, Mistress is also helping me explore additional fetishes that I hadn’t previously entertained, most notably panty worship, foot and leg fetishes, and CFNM (clothed female, nude male). 

It’s a little overwhelming to see the changes in myself and the way my kinks are quickly molding to Mistress’s whims, but I trust her implicitly and am excited to see where we will go together and the heights I will reach in her service.

No comments

Aching for Mistress

As of today, it’s been 11 days since Mistress has allowed me any sort of release.  Every night, I kneel by the bed, fighting my body to drive it to the edge of that sweet orgasm only to force myself to cap it off and fight back with every ounce of willpower in my body.

While it gets harder every night, I’m also not making it any easier on myself.  I listen to Mistress’s teasing voice on my MP3 player, browse the pictures on her site, pull out my favorite pictures and vids from my own porn collection, and in one case turned into a complete panty slut.  I do each of these without thinking and almost immediately regret it as it makes me race to the edge and the momentum makes it so  much more difficult to stop.

Mistress has previously referred to me as a "pain slut" and went so far today as to label me a maschocist.  I don’t know why this hasn’t been obvious to me until now, but she’s absolutely right.  I hit my subspace bliss so much faster when I’m restrained and abused in some horrible way.

And yet, with as much as I’m aching, I don’t feel I can ask Mistress for release in any way.  Unless she broaches the topic, I remain mute and just continue my "project puppy" work for her, happy in my service but crying out for the deeper desire that burns and aches inside my body.  Were she to ask if I was ready, I would throw myself weeping at her feet, begging  and offering anything just to reach that which I have been denied.

Perhaps this is part of my test - to balance my desire to please Mistress and obey the code of respect and protocol while trying to find some way to ask her for the mercy I seek.

Until then, I ache in silence and pray for the day Mistress grants my wish.

1 comment

History - Interlude

Telling my life story isn’t take up as much time or space as I thought it would.  Therefore, before I introduce Mistress Natalie, I want to rewind a little bit and describe my life at the time.

After my Civil Service contract ran out, I started working for a small web development start-up.  This was the renaissance period of the web - new technology was emerging on a weekly basis, Microsoft had just decided that it should really look into this "Internet" thing, and there was a "get rich quick" vibe akin to the California gold rush.

Shortly after the company got rolling, things looked bleak.  We had some high-profile clients, but the money was running out.  The president of the company (one of the 5 of us) decided to take on a new management team, a couple of MBAs who had no vision, no concept of technology, and were two of the biggest sleazebags around.  I didn’t know all this then - I thought we were saved and that riches beyond my wildest dreams were just around the corner.

I invested my entire heart and soul into that little company.  We started creating some amazing innovations at the time.  We developed searchable websites, built a method of teaching classes over the Internet for a local junior college, created a framework to allow us to rapidly develop database-driven content sites, and so on.  It was a pretty exciting time.  We even developed a way for people to pick items in a store and pay for everything at once.  (While I am saying that we invented the shopping cart, I’m not saying we were the first.  You just had to create everything from scratch back then.  Still I should be a freakin’ billionaire  now.  *sigh*  )

It wasn’t , however, a pretty lucrative time.  In order to pay us less, the company rented a corporate apartment for a few of us to live in.  When we couldn’t afford even that, we all moved into our offices.   ("The riches are just around the corner - trust us!")

It was right around then that I finally met the woman who would show me the light - Mistress Natalie.

To be continued…

No comments

Panty Slut

After receiving Mistress’s wonderful gift, the one that that intrigued me more than anything (at least, in my aching, denied state) were the small, delicate scraps of Mistress’s used panties.

I have never  been what I would consider to be a "panty boy".  Sniffing a women’s panties seemed degrading to both parties and something that was in the realm of peeping toms or other voyeuristic pleasure seekers.  I could never understand the appeal.

All that changed last night.

I asked Mistress as soon as I saw the "little taste" she had sent to me if I could use one during my daily denial devotion that evening and she agreed.

That night, I stripped and got my lube and MP3 player ready for the night’s "edge play", pushing myself as far but not further as a sign of my devotion Mistress.  I normally kneel at the side of the bed as if in prayer, mainly because I can bury my face into the mattress to quiet my frustrated groans as I stroke myself further into aching denial.

Before I started, I carefully unwrapped one of the treasures, a small piece of maroon fabric that had once lain across Mistress’s most private of spots.  I placed it into the mattress in front of me and proceeded to begin stroking my cock.  I then did the one thing I never expected of myself - I lowered my face to the mattress, burying my nose into the soft cottony scrap.

I’ve been stewing about this for almost 24 hours now, but the experience is still very hard to describe.  First, the smell was very delicate and faint, but still very distinct, the mixture of Mistress’s perfume and her own musky remnants becoming very powerful.  Between my mind filled with our talk earlier in the day, my buzz over Mistress’s gifts, her voice (recorded) in my ear, and my sense of smell permeated with her, I felt an almost physical connection to Mistress.  I could almost fully picture myself in her service, her panty-covered sacred temple pressed against my face as my oral service was demanded (through the panties, of course, as I was not nearly worthy enough for anything more), her hand expertly teasing me with no release in sight, her voice in my ear proclaiming her ownership and my completely inability to resist her.

When I let go of my cock, I actually shuddered for a few minutes, aching in frustration and at the overpowering feeling of being in Mistress’s presence, even in that limited virtual state.

First, I’m starting to find myself lusting after feet and legs for the first time in my life, but now Mistress has turned me into a complete panty slut with almost no effort at all.  I’m loving the feelings and the overall perverted decadence of it all, but I am also still shocked that I’m so malleable to Mistress’s each and every tiny whim. 

No comments

The Gift

Last week, I sent a package to Mistress containing a number of goodies including books I thought she would enjoy (especially given our common tastes), some of her favorite coffee, and some other items she had requested.  As I was putting it together, Mistress asked me to include a return shipping box and label because she wanted to send me something as well.

I received the package on Friday morning but had explicit instructions not to open it until she could share the experience.  I was also told that the package would need to be opened in private, so I booked a conference room at work for a "web conference" and made sure to put a big "do not disturb" sign on the door.

Once the web cam and phone connection was made, Mistress let me open the box and was just blown away by its contents.

[Edit:  Pictures removed 5/3/2007 at the request of Mistress Trecia]

First up were some books about reflexology (the ancient art of empowering the body and mind through manipulation of the feet, hands, and face) and massage.  I’m a horrible novice at massage, but Mistress has made it clear that it is something she enjoys and that will be expected of me during my service.  The one kit pictured here includes flash cards of reflexology routines and a DVD for study.  I’m hoping to pick up enough in two months to do the art justice during my trip to meet Mistress in person.

The next thing out of the box immediately intrigued me.  After getting so completely aroused as my cock burned with toothpaste, Mistress branded me as a "pain slut".  I’ve heard the term before, but never really applied it to myself.  It does, however, completely fit.  The "torture kit" came complete with two lengths of rope (hand dyed by Mistress, no less), two mousetraps with "painslut" written on them in glitter (glup ), a few clothespins, some rubber bands, hair clips, a packet of salt (that can’t  be good) and a 9-volt battery (to be used, according to one of her audio teases, on the underside of the cock head as you get close to the edge).

Next up was something I’m calling the "humiliation and marking kit".  Inside are a Sharpie (which I’m assuming is for marking Mistress’s property (i.e. me), a pink disposable razor (funny enough, I bought a special ladies razor for keeping my cock and balls shaved per Mistress’s instructions which also happens to be pink), a shot glass (for catching my cum when I am allowed to release and, most likely, for drinking it afterwards), two pairs of panties (Mistress assured me they are clean and are for me to wear when she feels I am ready) and a length of pink ribbon (which I’m assuming will be tied in an especially humiliating place).

Next up was a real treat - small slivers of Mistress’s worn panties.  I’ve never  been a "panty slut" or been excited by the thought of sniffing women’s panties, but I’d be lying if I said the thought of these being so close to Mistress’s sacred spot was incredibly exciting.  I asked Mistress if I could use one of these in my devotion that night and she agreed.  (More on that in my next post… )

Other items included Seductress by Betsy Prioleau (about how women through history have wielded their sexual and seductive power to help women today discovered their inner Goddess) [Mistress said that this will help me understand the Domme role and also to understand my attraction to powerful women), a shoe-shaped notepad (which Mistress said was to help encourage my increasing foot fetish), a Hershey’s Kiss (the only kind of kiss Mistress was able to ship), and a selection of stroking lubes which included a small tub of Mistress’s own Devil Spit concoction (a mixture of lotion and Icy Hot).

Finally (and most touching) was the beautiful handwritten note scented with Mistress’s perfume and signed with a lipstick kiss.  I’ve blocked the majority of the text, but the last line ("I am gonna keep you!") had me beaming all day.  (I also thought the sexy Betty Page envelopes were a really nice touch.)

I was completely blown away by the generosity of Mistress’s gift and overwhelmed by the mix of erotic, sensual touching, and downright scary.  This also gives me my first physical connection with Mistress which is making our bond even stronger.  As each day passes, I find myself falling further and further under her spell and and longing for the time to pass so I can kneel at her feet in person and properly show my devotion.

No comments

Awards & Accolades

When I started this blog at the request of Mistress Trecia, I never knew that I would fill it so prolifically and that so much of my history, pain, and devotion would come spilling out onto the page all at once.  It’s been an especially cathartic experience for me as my D/s experiences are woven into a really horrible time in my life which sometimes makes my feelings and motives unclear even to myself.  I’m also reawakening a part of myself that I’ve tried to hard to keep dormant which is causing me great joy but also making me question everything else in my life as who I am now is the direct result of that batch of decisions I made 9 years ago.

With that said, I am loving having such a great outlet to write after a long dry spell.  (My previous personal blog halted abruptly in April 2006 without any further update.) 

This week, Mistress Trecia honored me in her podcast, first mentioning my work on her MySpace page and how much she enjoys it, but then also for naming me Blog of the Week and broadcasting my URL so her listeners could come find me. 

I was also especially honored with another incredibly special reward late last week - Mistress allowed me to watch her on webcam and listen to her record some audio content for her site.  I’m a former Photographer and was always amazed at how some people just can’t be captured in still pictures.  After watching Mistress for just a brief period of time, it was clear that her beauty and grace is not given justice in still life.  I spent most of the time I was allowed to watch captivated by her smile, something that starts in the traditional place but ends up lighting up her entire face and making her eyes sparkle so brightly. 

It’s enough to completely cement my desire to make Mistress happy, just for the reward of seeing her radiant smile shining down on me.

1 comment

I Dream of Mistress

During my session last night, I told Mistress Trecia that I had a dream about her two nights ago.  She immediately became intrigued and told me to blog it today.

In my dream, I was in a bright room with Mistress and was naked and strapped down to some sort of chair that looked kind of like a doctor’s exam table propped up into a back rest.  (I think it was a chair I saw in a piercing shop while doing research for my Prince Albert.)  Mistress was standing next to the chair, her lips up against my ear, hot breath making me tingle as she reminded me I was under her spell and complete control, and that I would be bound to this chair until she was good and done with me.

As she spoke, her hand stroked my hair, neck, and chest very delicately and seductively.  At one point (when she mentioned that she owned me) she quickly grabbed my balls and squeezed, sending knots into my stomach and, of course, making my cock throb for her.

The pain of the ball busting was quickly replaced by waves of pure pleasure as she started slowing stroking my cock in long even paces.  With her free hand, she reached up and grabbed a handful of hair to keep my ear pressed up against her lips as she continued proclaiming her ownership and my helplessness.

Mistress removed her hand from my cock, causing it to bob in the air in a silent plea of release.  She then stated that she was just getting nothing out of this and needed to do something to fix the situation.  Mistress stepped around in front of the table and I got to see what she was wearing for the first time, a black, leather corset laced tight and showing off her beautiful breasts with garters that traced down her perfect legs to a pair of black stockings.  The garters also framed her delicate, lacy panties.

She turned her back to me for a moment to look through a drawer in a nearby cabinet and turned aroumd with a purple dildo connected to a strap.  With a few efficient movements she fastened it around my thigh and then gave me a wicked grin.

Mistress pulled a stool up next to the table and used it to climb up on top of me, her climb briefly pushing her leather-clad breasts into my face making my cock ache even more.  A moment later and she had mounted the dildo strapped to my leg, placing her hands on my shoulders to steady her ride.  Inches away, rubbing against her stockings, my cock was ready to explode but with no direct stimulation, all I could do is watch Mistress pleasure herself with the help of my body. 

As her riding continued, she reached down and popped the top few laces of her corset causing her large breasts to spill out into my face.  She grabbed my hair again and pulled me into her bosom and I could feel the heat of her body and vibrations from her moans.

Then comes the really weird part of the dream.

I dreamt that I woke up at my desk at work, the office was completely dark, and I had my cock in my hand.  A second later, Mary (my project manager and one of my four bosses) walked up and caught me there, her eyes immediately locking onto my exposed cock.  She then looked up and made eye contact and gave me a wicked smirk and laughed as I started to stammer and apologize.

Then I woke up for real, my cock throbbing  for release.  (This was the night of my "toothpaste" episode, so I was already aching and sore before even going to bed.) 

A few things struck me about this dream, first and foremost being DAMN, that was hot!  Next, I think I’ve only had one other BDSM dream in 37 years, so to have one that vivid and explicit is extremely odd.  Finally, having a "sex dream" about someone I work with, especially Mary (who is my arch nemesis at work), has never happened before and completely freaked me out.  (I wasn’t able to make eye contact with Mary at all yesterday.)  The last bit is also weird because I’ve never really gotten into humiliation in the past but it seems now that some part of my psyche is beginning to crave it

Mistress Trecia has really gotten under my skin and now even my dreams ache for her.  sigh


After Dark

Midday yesterday, Mistress asked me when the next time we would "meet" on cam would be and she agreed to connect with me late that night after my wife went to bed.

I took my position kneeling in front of my webcam and we talked for bit before Mistress told me to strip.  (She chastised me for not already being naked, another case of me screwing up protocol due to my inexperience in her professional realm.  Other Dommes I’ve worked with considered it presumptuous to appear naked in front of them ["Who do you think you are?"], but Mistress Trecia is really into CFNM [Clothed Female, Nude Male] and told me that I should always appear naked in front of her on camera.)

Then, the teasing started.  She had me stroke my cock while she cooed into my ear, her intoxicating voice having its usual effect.  Of course, she reminded me that she was still sick and hadn’t had any pleasure of her own in awhile.  I immediately try to restrain myself to keep from getting too close, too quickly since I figured that there was no "end" in sight.

I think she noticed me doing that, because she then told me she might   let me finish, but on a countdown so I’d have to finish very quickly.   That made me try to get right on the edge and stay there in case I’d need to cum on command.  I have to hand it to Mistress - it was a purely devious conundrum she placed me in.

All was naught, however, since Mistress told me to stop stroking as I teetered on the edge.  She said she was really looking forward to my trip up to see her and then bid me good night.  The ache was unbelievable and it took me a few minutes to get enough composure to get dressed, put away my "shrine" (floor mat, sheet, towel, lube, etc.) and go to bed.

No comments

History - Master Allen (Updated)

While in service to Mistress Debbie, she confessed to me one day that she was actually a "switch", a person who likes to explore both roles in the D/s relationship.  Since I was her favorite plaything at the time, she told me that she planned to mentor me in an effort to bring out my inner Dom and scratch her own submissive itch.

Thus, Master Allen was born.

Mistress Debbie theorized (and I agreed) that my Dom persona should be separate and distinct from my normal sub state, so she named him with my middle name and started helping find what she was sure was right under the surface.  (Once again, this should have been another clue that Mistress Debbie and I weren’t meshing at all.)

So, in the interest of exploration, I delved deep down inside myself looking for "that guy", the leather wearing, cruel Master wanting nothing more than to get women in a compromising position and exploit them into doing whatever he wanted.

Unexpectedly, I found him in there, but that persona was orbiting a core of pure pain and raw, horrible emotion. 

I’m assuming my inner Dom exists due to the semi-consensual abuse I suffered at the hands of my Scoutmaster when I was younger mixed with all of the abuse I suffered at the hand of my mother.  Whatever created it was black, dark, and dense, a solid core of all the things I had worked so hard not   to be.

Mistress Debbie and I did some minor playing to warm up, but eventually she said i was ready to plan and take on a whole session.  I started by having "deb" kneel at the end of the bed and lay onto the mattress bent at the waist.  I secured her wrists with ropes tied to the headboard so she was stretched forward and then tied her knees spread on the floor so she wouldn’t be able to close them.

I took a flogger I had bought especially for the occasion and started whipping her back and ass, something which deb really responded to.  Then, I took an industrial strength vibrator and held it against her cilt while I spanked her bare-handed.  When she was good and warmed up, I moved forward and shoved my cock into her without any warning causing her to gasp and try to move back against me.  After a few thrusts, I took the vibrator and shoved it into her ass.

deb’s reaction was electric   and she started to go absolutely crazy.  Between her reaction and the vibrator (which I could feel from inside her), I quickly was able to cum and then completely pulled out leaving her hanging.

Then, something…..odd…..happened.

I started to flog her again, but I found myself consumed by a rage I can’t begin to explain.  I had a desire to inflict intense pain just make deb suffer, an over-the-top feeling that overwhelmed me to the point where I stopped the session and untied deb.  She immediately attacked me and we had a nice moment of consensual sex, but afterwards we discussed what I was going through.

Mistress Debbie seemed to think it was no big deal, but it felt like I was channeling pure evil.  As I’m writing this, I’m wondering if maybe that is the opposite of subspace that I was feeling, but I can’t imagine that’s the case.  This was something that I didn’t want inside me, something that I couldn’t imaging being able to keep restrained on a leash during a session.  In other words, a horrible menace.

That entire experience scared the shit out of me and convinced that some things were meant to stay buried.   (Thank you, Indiana Jones, for another important life lesson.)

Update:  Mistress read my blog post and had some amazing comments on it,

First, she said that "dark, black, and dense" are three words that should never describe Topspace.  We both agreed that those feelings were the condensed pain of my childhood brought to the surface in one, giant push.  She also said that Mistress Debbie should have been nurturing me, help me to become who I am supposed to be and seeing me for who I was, but instead was forcing me to take a role that was a completely different person (with a different name, no less). 

Even though I was wielding that flogger, it was still her in control calling the shots pushing me to be something I’m not by channeling all of the horrible energy from my darkest times.  Ick.

I’ve actually wrestled with that event for quite a long time.  I’ve always been concerned that I was a borderline serial killer with this unmasked rage and violence lurking just below the surface.  Mistress Trecia said that we all   have that within us, but that because I’m aware of it I can control it instead of the other way around.

Once again, Mistress reached straight into my psyche and helped me deal with something that has severely haunted me that I needed to purge.  This is why I’ve become so devoted to her in such a short amount of time - she can see into my soul and understands me better than I understand myself. 

She has more intuition that all of the shrinks I’ve seen put together and is not afraid to be frank and candid nor to let me explore my deepest, darkest secrets and desires.  It’s only been three weeks, but I’m already eternally indebted to Mistress Trecia.

No comments

Next Page »