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Hot Tuesday Night

Last night, I had a wonderful surprise - my first full session with Miss Jacqueline.

I was working on cleaning the kitchen (one of my many household chores), when she called from upstairs and told me to come up.  I stripped at the top of the stairs (observing the "no clothes upstairs" rule) and found Miss Jacqueline in her study.

She started by reading an e-mail she had received from Mrs. Claudia.  The two have opened a dialog and, since Mrs. Claudia and her subby have a story very similar to that of ours, I know we can learn a great deal from them.  When she was done, we discussed the content briefly and then I was instructed to go into the bedroom, lie on the bed, and wait for her.

Several minutes later, I heard her come in.  "There is a bottle of lube in your side table drawer.  Get it and start stroking."

Other than some brief playful teasing from Miss Jacqueline, I have not had any contact at all in almost two weeks, so being able to finally stroke was a gladly-accepted gift.  The complete lack of contact actually meant I wasn’t suffering too badly for this recent denial spell, but having my slick hand wrapped around my cock unlocked all the pent up frustration and desire inside me and I was edging almost immediately.

Through the haze of my struggle, I felt Miss Jacqueline start to tie me up.  First one ankle, then the other, then my unused hand.  Each bond made my cock grow a little harder and caused me to moan loudly and shake, struggling against the impending orgasm that I needed to prevent.  I tried to slow down my strokes (which, damn me, had been at full tilt as my need overrode my good sense as usual), but Miss Jacqueline sternly told me to keep up the pace.  I tried shifting my hand position and stroke length trying desperately to back down from the edge just a little for fear that I wouldn’t be able to hold on.

Then, I felt Miss Jacqueline sit on the bed beside me.  She slipped a blindfold down over my eyes and then started to speak.  She was reading from one of the FemDom erotic stories books we recently purchased.  It was a story about a Domme who decided to mark her sub by carving her initial into his ass with a scalpel.  The story was wonderfully erotic and well written (and not nearly as extreme as you’d think given the subject matter).  Of course, hearing my wife’s soft, sultry voice speaking those words just drove me crazy and made my fight even more difficult.

About a third of the way into the story, I started shaking all over and grunting, teetering on the edge, fighting with all my might to suppress the released that my body demanded.  Finally, the story ended and I immediately started to beg for release.

"Not just yet, boy."  Yes, Miss.  "Stop stroking, NOW!"

I laid on the bed, whimpering, my balls aching from the edge play and over stimulation.  Miss Jacqueline untied me and then instructed me to roll over and get up on my elbows and knees.

Once in the position, she retied my hands and feet keeping me locked down with my ass in the air.  I knew what was coming, of course.  She started with the riding crop, letting the soft leather of the tip drift teasingly across my back and ass, cock and balls.  I heard the whistle of the first blow and every muscle in my body instinctually tightened, ready for the assault.

She started on my back, the blows coming steadily and slowly increasing in strength, then moving down to my ass with a few choice blows hitting my aching balls as well.  After a few minutes, I felt something soft and warm rubbing the impact sites and realized she was using the sheepskin side of our new paddle.  Knowing the pain that she can inflict with the business side of that same implement, I braced myself for the next round.

The paddle landed with a loud smack again and again, Miss Jacqueline aiming for that especially tender spot where the ass meets the leg.  By this time, I was flying high, feeling the pain, but yet letting each blow carry me into subspace and enjoying the rush and feeling of being helpless to her painful whims.

When Miss Jacqueline was done with the paddle, she untied me and told me to lay on my back.  When I was there, I felt her fingers touch my lips and I instantly moaned as I realized they were soaked in her juices and sucked hungrily on them as she slipped them into my mouth.

"You like that, boy?  Then put your face between my legs."  A moment later, I was there, lapping at her sacred spot, her every moan increasing my own desire and frustration.  She came with shout and a shudder, clutching handfuls of my hair to keep me in the right spot as she rode out the sensation.

I was instructed to lie beside her again, but this time to resume stroking.  "That’s it, boy.  Get it nice and hard."  It only took a moment and I was right back on the edge again, my cock rock hard and throbbing in my hand.

"I want to see how that new ring of yours feels, boy.  Come here!"  Miss Jacqueline guided me on top of her and I thrust inside, lost completely to the new sensations of her wet warmth and the added stimulation of my piercing.  After a very short time, I started to beg for release, stammering as I tried to get the words out.

She grabbed my hair again, pulling my head down to her, saying "I order you to cum, boy.  Cum NOW!"  My entire world blanked out at that moment and I was completely lost in the white-hot center of extasy, orgasm, and subspace as I came and came and came.  It wasn’t until several moments later that I realized I was making some sort of animalistic grunting noise as I let go with complete abandon, caring only about the sweet gift of release I had been granted.

Miss Jacqueline guided me back down onto the bed next to her and started stroking my hair, saying "good boy" and panting as she, too, tried to catch her breath.

Once the buzz started to wear off, Miss Jacqueline told me that she really enjoyed the sensation of my cock piercing entering her and that it could stay.  This made me incredibly happy as I also loved the incredible feeling it provided during sex.

We also discussed the sex itself, something I had been afraid would feel too dominant and take me out of my role.  My fears were unfounded thanks to the build up because at the moment I had been given the instruction, I was so deep into subspace that I just felt completely subjugated and there only for Miss Jacqueline’s pleasure.

Overall, it was an absolutely incredible session and showed how far Miss Jacqueline has come in just a couple of weeks.  She really is a natural and I know that, as she meets more people and starts to get more comfortable with her Domme side, things are bound to get even more interesting and mind blowing.

I have to keep reminding myself that I am now living the fantasy that so many repressed submissive men have and almost need to pinch myself to see if this is all real.  To be given the gift of a FemDom marriage after so many years and to be able to connect to the woman I love on this new and deeper level is more that I ever could have hoped.

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General Updates

I’ve got a bunch of irons in the fire (as they say), so here are some random updates:

  - I finally got to try the ErosTek using Mistress’s voice as the audio source.  (The unit has jacks for external audio and a microphone.)  I was a little disappointed with the results.  First, my MP3 player couldn’t kick out a high enough gain output to really drive the ErosTek.  I was only getting little peaks of signal which didn’t really cut it.  After doing some reading, it looks like the "audio in" jack is more for Phaser support, another e-stim software program that generates audio files for you to use.  I’m still determined to figure this one out and will do some experimenting this weekend.  My new anal probe and cock ring set are due to arrive Friday, so I should be able to so some serious fine tuning.

 - My piercing is healing more every day.  Today, I even did a few playful tugs on the barbell with just a little minor discomfort.  By the time I visit Mistress in a month, it should be ready for some regular handling.  I’ve also finally figured out a combination of things I can do that allow me to pee standing up.  If I restrict the flow using a Kegel clench, hold the barbell end against the piercing, and get close enough to the urinal, I can do it without getting my pants wet and without spraying all over the place.  Until now, I’ve been sitting down to pee during the day then experimenting at home trying to get a technique that worked for me.  While Mistress took great delight in the emasculation of me having to sit down, it was too much of a hassle.

 - Mistress had to cancel our scheduled session tonight.  I completely understand (she had some dental surgery today and is still completely loopy on the drugs) and she gave me a fantastic  assignment in its place, so I really don’t mind.  (I am to play with the sounds to see how they work with my piercing and stroke.  I did have to do a little begging to get permission to stroke, but at three weeks and counting since my last release, I really needed some contact to take the edge off.  It will, of course, make things worse in the long run, but the temporary relief will be worth it.)

 - My next visit with Mistress is exactly four weeks away now.  I’m really happy because I’ve been missing her like crazy since I left, but I’m also a little weary because I have a feeling she’s going to keep me denied until I arrive which means almost two months without any cumming at all.  This is the longest I’ve been asked to hold out yet and I’m hoping (and a little worried) about making it the full distance.  I know the reward will be worth the suffering, however, if for no other reason that it makes Mistress happy when I can achieve the challenges she lays out for me.

 - My old personal blog is now completely dead.  Any hope of resurrecting the database died today, so I’m gathering up what I can of the old site and already have my new favorite ISP (go Zimfest!) working on pulling my domain names from my current site.  My daily writing here has made me jones for an outlet for the more mundane things in my life (crazy stuff at work, game reviews, and so on), so it will be nice to have a vanilla blog once again.

 - Finally , I had a little subspace tweaking moment today.  A woman was on the escalator in front of me, just far enough ahead that I had an almost eye-level view of her stockinged legs and gorgeous feet tucked into these high heels with the little ankle straps.  Now, in the past, I would have never noticed that, but Mistress has fully turned me into a complete foot boy (I’m still not completely sure how she did that without me noticing it as it happened) so I get easily transfixed with such things.  My "moment" came when I was completely busted.  The woman said something to me that barely registered and she had to say "Hello?" to get my attention and my looking up from my locked gaze completely revealed what I was staring at.  I blushed about 15 shades of red and she just smiled at me and walked off when we got to the top.  I went the opposite direction (even though I wasn’t headed that way) just to avoid additional eye contact with her.  I felt like such a complete slut and my embarassment just sent me flying.

That’s it for today!  Tune in tomorrow to hear how my sounds play went…

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Trip - Day One

I’ve been counting down to my trip to visit Mistress Trecia for a couple of months now, but the day suddenly arrived seemingly out of nowhere.  The night prior to my departure where a frantic flurry of packing and car loading and making sure I didn’t forget anything.  I also slept horribly, between being woken by the storm, my anticipation of the trip, and a nasty nightmare that I had a rollover crash on the way up there (probably some lurking fear from my previous solo road trip).

Because of all that, I woke up groggy and in a weird mood.  Mistress had a morning assignment that got my head snapped back into place before I left.  Upon getting up, I was to stroke to the edge then write "MWK" on my cock with a marker.  With each stroke, the horrible night melted away and I was once again filled with excitement about the trip.  Marking myself was just the little extra frosting, a reminder of what all this hard work has been leading up to.  I pulled out of the driveway just after 7 a.m.

In addition to the "wake up" assignment, Mistress had an additional assignment for my time on the road - I was to rub myself through my jeans as I drove for 9 minutes once every hour.  (I did have the option of trading 9 minutes for 9 full strokes, but only if I pulled my cock completely out of my pants.)  The drive up was about 7 hours, and at the bottom of each hour I started to stroke myself through my jeans.  Each time, I got further along than the last in the same amount of time, until the last round (as I was crossing the Minnesota border) left me wondering if I was going to hit the edge.

Once at the hotel, I needed to get all of the BDSM gear in my truck up to the room.  Since that included a full-sized spanking bench and Saint Andrew’s cross, things were a little interesting.  The items all folded or disassembled, so I was able to put them on a cart and wheel them through the lobby without too may weird looks.  The main piece of the cross, however, required me to carry it up the fire stairs as the elevator was a little too small for the item.

Mistress then called to say that she was running late and had errands to do and invited me along.  My original plan was this carefully crafted scene.  I left a key for Mistress at the front desk and had planned to greet her at the door to my room, naked and kneeling.  Meeting Mistress in the lobby fully dressed and then driving around for a couple of hours actually turned out to be a good thing.  We got to have some "non scene" time which helped calm my nerves.  (We also made the odd discovery that we drive the same exact same truck down to the model year and have our "MWK" stickers in the same place on the back.  Weird…)

After hanging out for a bit, we went back to my hotel room.  I presented my gifts to Mistress - I admittedly went completely overboard (Flickr set coming soon) and she was a little overwhelmed at all the new toys.  Eventually, she came over to me, took off her sweatshirt, then said, "Now you" and sat down on the edge of the bed, legs crossed.

I hesitated for a moment, waiting for the expected rush of fear, but even as I started removing my clothes it didn’t come.  Undressing in front of Mistress as she watched seemed perfectly natural.  Once naked, I knelt at her feet and bowed my head, flushed with the excitement of finally being here with her in person.  She reached up and stroked my hair, calling me a "good boy" and was completely lost in that moment.  She then grabbed my chin, lifted my head so I was looking into my eyes, and then said, "Stroke for me".

Phew.

I wanted to be cool and impressive, but it only took about 15 strokes before I was moaning and whimpering in front of Mistress, all three weeks of my current denial screaming for relief.  As I stroked, Mistress kicked off a sandal and started rubbing her toes underneath my balls and against the head of my cock.  I started begging for release, but Mistress just told me to start stroking.  She pushed my head down so it was resting on her lap, then told me to start again.  The teasing continued until I was teetering on the edge again and, once again, I was told to stop stroking. 

Before the next round started, Mistress grabbed my non-stroking hand and slid it under herself so my knuckles were strategically positioned against her sacred spot.  I could feel her heat and wetness through her pants and that alone almost sent me over the edge.  She also slid her foot so it was resting right against my cock and I immediately started humping her foot, something that caused Mistress to laugh at me.  I was so horny and denied that I was completely degrading myself just so I could get even the smallest semblance of release.

She instructed me to start stroking again, but started griding herself into my hand and brought herself to orgasm as I pleaded for my own release.  She wasn’t quite ready for that yet, so she told me to stop again, causing me to whimper with frustration, something that brought another laugh out of Mistress.

Another round of stroking started, but this time Mistress told me to beg for what I wanted.   And I begged.  And pleaded.  Please, Mistress.  Please  Please  Please  P-p-p-plea-a-a-se…

Finally, she grabbed my chin again and, looking firmly into my eyes as I continued to stroke like a man possessed, said "Cum.  NOW!"  Three strokes later and I was cumming and cumming and cumming, spilling all over Mistress’s feet and the floor.  Exhausted, I fell forward with my head in Mistress’s lap where she stroked my hair.  After a few minutes, she demanded that I clean up my mess and had me lick all the cum off of her feet and ankles.  We then sat for awhile, me completely buzzing from my time in subspace.  (As a memento of our first time together, Mistress later gave me the panties she was wearing in a plastic bag.)

After a while, we went out to dinner and then back to her place where I got to finally meet Mistress’s husband.  We took him back to the hotel so he could see Mistress’s gifts and we had a good time talking until about 1 in the morning when they realized that the day was catching up with me and left so I could crash.  On her way out the door, Mistress said, "Oh, and tonight - stroke for 36 minutes before you sleep.  Good night, boy!" and left with a laugh.

Fighting sleep and orgasm, I laid in bed for the full time stroking and stroking, pulling back from the edge each time I got close, rerunning the day’s events through my head and soaking in my servitude.  My final thought as I drifted off, assignment complete, was that I hoped I could keep up with Mistress over the next four days.

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Surprise Call

Last night, I was IMing with Mistress Trecia about some work for her site when she asked "Would you like to call me for a few minutes?"  I immediately grabbed my headset and cell phone and a moment later her alluring voice was in my ear. 

Since my most "direct" contact with Mistress to date has been her voice, it has a special effect on me.  I get a wonderful warm, fuzzy feeling and my demeanor instinctually changes - my voice gets quieter, I bow my head while speaking, and I feel that wonderful flush of excitement as I slowly sink into subspace.

At first, we just discussed some mundane things.  I tried to help her get her new laptop to connect to her wireless network and we discussed some logistics about our upcoming visit.  Then, out of the blue, she asked, "So, you’ve been getting incredibly horny, boy?"  When I said that I had, she immediately told me to grab my cock.

"Grab it now, boy.  Stroke for me.  "

Those three little magical words just electrified me and I was rock hard before my hand even made it down there.  Within about three strokes, I was already moaning with abandon and losing myself into the sensation, my entire existence centered in the hand wrapped around my cock, stroking myself deeper into denial and frustration.

"Oooo, poor boy.  I bet you want to cum, don’t you my little stroke slut?"  Yes, Mistress.   "Well, too….fucking…..bad."  Then she let loose with that wicked laugh of hers, the one that always cuts through me and makes me feel flushed with shame at what I’ve become.  (I’d never really understood erotic humiliation as a concept until I met Mistress Trecia.  I completely get it now  - the feeling that you have completely degraded yourself and are exposing your very soul just to be taunted for it push me right into the warm, gooey center of subspace.)

This continued for a few more minutes, my moans growing more desperate, Mistress’s taunts becoming more and more teasing (especially as she described things she might do while I’m there, like tie me up and force me to listen to her pleasure herself).

My head swimming, I heard Mistress firmly say "HANDS OFF" through the haze and pulled my hand away from my cock.  The lingering wisps of subspace and intense frustration left me whimpering and moaning even with the removal of the physical contact.

"Rest well, boy.  Good night…"  And with that, Mistress was gone and I was left to climb the stairs up to my bedroom, knowing that I would spend the next hour lying in bed fighting for sleep, trying to clear my head as my body rebelled with frustration.

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Stroke Slut

Last night, I had a wonderful session with Mistress Trecia. 

She told me a few days ago to be prepared to "meet" via webcam on Thursday night and we finally connected around midnight.  I had set my den up in "shrine" mode with my mat down on the floor and some lube and a towel near by.  While I IM with Mistress all day long most days, it’s still a rush to hear her voice greet me with a sultry "hello, boy".

After a little bit of small talk, she told me to grab my cock and the taunting began.  She asked if i was her little stroke slut, and I answered "Yes, Mistress".  She laughed, then told me to lube up and start stroking.  While stroking, she started the teasing and taunting, at times simply echoing back my frustrated groans and then laughing at me.  She also asked if I was ready to cum (and I so completely  was), then laughed and said "well, I’m not going to let you" then laughed again.

She let me stop to catch my breath, but then asked if I had my toothpaste handy.  I told her it was upstairs in the bathroom and she said to go get it.  When I got back, she told me to pour some in my hand and start stroking again.  After about 4 strokes, the burn of that evil cinnamon Crest kicked in and let out a deep moan as my cock swelled involuntarily to the catalyst of the pain.  Mistress laughed, telling me I was such a nice little pain slut.  She even mentioned some new tortures she might try out, like abusing my cock by sliding a lip gloss brush up inside my urethra.  (She taunted that it was the closest my cock would ever get to her luscious lips.)

As I continued stroking, the pain grew along with my frustration and my moans and groans and whimpers became more desperate, telegraphing every sensation and emotion pouring through my body.   Through my earpiece, I could hear Mistress becoming more and more aroused, her moans no longer a taunting mimic of my own.  I can’t remember her becoming so excited in any other session and I nearly lost it and came just at the thought of the effect my suffering was having on her.  As a sub, being able to provide Mistress pleasure is the greatest reward I could receive.

I couldn’t take it any more and started pleading for Mistress to let me stop.  (It sounded more like "p…ph…please….Mm….Muh……Mistress….")  She finally let me stop and I had to steady myself as my head was swimming from the over stimulation and welled-up frustration at being so close but denied that sweet release.

Mistress told me to clean up and rest well, then hung up.  A few minutes later, she IMed me to say that she was off to finish cumming about 5 times ("more than enough for both of us").  Reading that, my burning, aching cock was fully erect and bobbing in the air again and I was filled with a sense of pride for being able to please Mistress in such a way. 

After putting away my shrine, I laid bed, my cock still burning from the toothpaste despite my best efforts to wash it off, and drifted off savoring the afterglow from my time in subspace.

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Sweet Agony

Last night marked the first day of my mandated two-week denial and Mistress Trecia took full advantage to make sure my suffering surpassed anything I’ve experienced to date under her rule.

We were chatting and she nonchalantly said that she wanted me to use toothpaste during the last 11 minutes of my nightly denial stroke session.  I had to ask her to clarify as I wasn’t quite sure what "last 11 minutes" meant.  Mistress said that I was to stroke to the edge as per normal, but then to apply toothpaste to my cock and stroke but not cum for an additional 11 minutes.  She also said that I should grab a rubber band or something similar and bind my cock and balls beforehand.

To add to the eroticism of the situation, I had a new wrinkle to my normal devotions.  Mistress has commented that she enjoys spying on me via webcam, so as a surprise I took advantage of my current hotel stay to set up a webcam pointed at the bed that Mistress could monitor anytime she chose.  Knowing that she was potentially going to be watching over me while I going through my ordeal was incredibly exciting.

I stripped, bound my cock with an elastic cable tie I had in my suitcase, then knelt at the edge of the bed and started stroking.  Listening to Mistress’s voice on my MP3 player had the usual effect and it wasn’t long before I hit the edge where I’d normally stop.  I then applied the toothpaste, noted the time on the clock, and started the next phase of my ordeal.

The burn of the toothpaste kicked in within a few seconds and within the first 2 -3 minutes I was in excruciating pain.  While the burn of the irritant hurt, being right on the edge for so long and knowing I was very far away from the finish line just broke me.  I bit into the mattress and howled my frustration.  At the 5 minute mark, I started weeping and shaking due to the frustration caused by my arousal and demanded denial clashing in additional the physical pain I was feeling.

I managed to hold out until the very end, collapsing as the 11 minutes expired, my cock raw and on fire, my body trembling in frustration, and my balls aching from the bondage and denial.  Through all of that, I felt a swelling of pride for successfully completing Mistress’s challenge.  Of course, I also had the haunting feeling that this was just day 1 of my ordeal and wondering how much further I’d have to push myself during the next two weeks.

On her blog, Mistress wrote about how much she enjoyed watching me, to the point where she actually had an orgasm from the experience.  Mistress also wrote about being anxious to experience such a session in "real space" so she can hold me while I tremble.  I, too, long for that contact.  Last night’s ordeal is one where some quality aftercare (being held and having my hair stroked, for example) would have just added so much to my heady subspace buzz.

I wait now for Mistress to see what devious and wicked plan she has for me tonight.  Hopefully, I can continue to push my boundaries to meet her challenges and make Mistress proud with my utter and complete devotion.

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History - Mistress Natalie (Part 1)

I’ve been putting this off for fear of not being able to do the tale of Mistress Natalie justice, but also because this part of my history is embedded in some pretty deep wounds that I wasn’t exactly looking forward to opening again.  I’ve also discovered that I had a lot to say about Mistress Natalie, so this is going to be the first of a few posts.  I’m going to post them over the next two or three days so I can finally and completely tell this important part of my past.

Because of the amount of work I was pouring into the small company I was working for, I gave up all relationships (including hanging out on the BBSes and at the parties) and just focused on work.  After a couple of months, a friend of mine mentioned that he knew a friend-of-a-friend who would be perfect for me and help me fulfill my unquenched need for servitude.  A meeting was arranged through his friend at a local sandwich shop.

When I arrived at our meeting, I got my first glimpse of Mistress Natalie.  She was sitting at a table with a girl of about 5 or 6 who I assumed (correctly, as it turned out) to be her daughter.  I came up and before I could introduce myself, she locked eyes with me said sternly "NO  titles" then looked at her daughter and back at me.  I acknowledged that I understood what she meant and we began to talk.

With her daughter there, it was mostly small talk.  What kind of books did I like?  Had I seen any good movies?  How did I know Dave (the friend of a friend)?  She revealed that she was married, but that her husband didn’t really participate in her "hobby".  We talked and shared our meal for almost an hour.  She then started the process of cleaning up and getting her daughter ready to go, but paused for a moment to hand me a card.  One side had an address written on it and she locked eyes with me again and said "This is my address.  If you’re interested in taking the next step, be there at 9 p.m. sharp on Friday."

I was a little worried about meeting Mistress Natalie as I knew nothing about her style as a Domme.  I did have a good vibe about her, but as my life choices were becoming more and more suspect, I didn’t even fully trust myself.  After some serious meditating on the issue, I decided to go and see what would happen.

Our first meeting started out badly as Mistress Natalie lived in a part of northern San Diego that I was completely unfamiliar with.  I ended up getting lost and showed up almost 15 minutes late.  There was a note on the door that said "Come in, lock the door behind you, and wait", so  I did as I was told.  The house was dark and lit only by candles and after a few minutes waiting by the door, I heard Mistress Natalie’s voice from around the corner say "Turn around, put your hands on the door, and close your eyes."

The combination of being in a strange place in a strange situation as well as knowing I was going to catch hell for being late made me start to tremble as I "assumed the position".  As soon as I was in place, I heard someone move around behind me and a moment later felt a blindfold being slipped into place over my eyes.

"Turn around."  Completely blind, I turned around and could sense that Mistress Natalie was just a few feet in front of me.   She then added, very matter of factly, "Strip."

I quickly removed my clothes and the feeling of being blind and completely exposed was pretty overwhelming.  A few minutes passed and I suddenly felt a hand grab and firmly hold my cock making me almost jump out of my skin.  "You’re late."  I started to stammer an apology, but Mistress Natalie cut me off saying calmly "Shut up.  Follow me."  Using my cock as a leash, Mistress led me into another room.

We stopped and Mistress told me that there was a bar at waist height just ahead of me and to bend over it.  The "bar" was a padded sawhorse and before I knew it my hands and feet were secured to the ends of the horse as I balanced there with my ass in the air.  She then said "If things start to get too intense, say ‘yellow light’.  If you want to stop, say ‘red light’."

For what seemed like forever, Mistress Natalie just walked around me, her heels clicking on the floor, and shaking what sounded like a flogger.  Without warning, I heard the flogger whistle through the air as pain seared across my back and ass.  Just a few strokes later, however, I found my bliss.  Between my apprehension at the situation itself, my feeling exposed, the knowledge that I had angered Mistress Natalie, and the onslaught of pain, I slipped full-on into what I now know as subspace.

My mild experience with Mistress Debbie didn’t prepare me at all for the full force of subspace.  The pain I was feeling drifted away and I was filled with pure ecstasy.  Each blow from the lash just fed the fire (okay - how did I not realize I was a pain slut? ) and I was lost in the center of my little ball of joy.  That singular mindset came back as well, the pain still hanging at the fringes of my buzz but me now able to feel everything  from the individual fibers of the ropes hold me down to Mistress’s scent, a mixture of leather and Obsession perfume.  Mistress Trecia, for the first time, has given me words to put to this - I felt fully and completely at home.

After the lashing was over, Mistress Natalie untied me and led me across the room.  She lifted my blindfold and I saw that was standing in a candle-lit room face to face with a 7-foot tall birdcage.  Mistress told me to hop in and I did, having to sit with my knees pulled up to fit as the floor of the cage was several feet off the floor.  As I turned to lift myself into the cage, I got my first view of Mistress Natalie in all her Domme glory.  She had her long black hair woven into a bun on the back of her head, her full-figured frame was form-fitted with a thigh-length leather dress, and she had on a pair of high-heeled boots.

I paused for a second to take her in but she shooed me into the cage and, once I was seated inside (a position made even more uncomfortable by burning backside).  She latched the door and snapped a padlock on it, checking it to make sure it was secure.  She then reached into the cage and pulled the blindfold back down over my eyes.

After letting me absorb the fact that I was locked in a cage for a few minutes, Mistress Natalie spoke.  "You were late, so you only get to listen this time."  I then heard a zipper and realized she was taking off her clothes.  A moment later, she said "Hi, honey" and I heard someone kiss her.  She proceeded to have loud, passionate sex with her husband right in front of my cage and all I could do is ache and soak in the erotic sounds.

A short while after they were done, Mistress Natalie let me out of the cage, removed my blindfold and handed me my clothes.  (She watched me with an amused smirk with her arms crossed over her stain robe.)  Once I was dressed, she walked me to the door and then handed me a piece of paper.

"There are two phone numbers here.  The top number is my home phone.  I would like to talk to you tomorrow evening about tonight and to discuss what we both hope to get out of this.  The other number is my pager.  You must page me at 9 p.m. sharp every evening to show your devotion.  Do you understand?"  I said that I did and she bid me good night.

I sat in my car for about half an hour before I was able to drive, the feelings that I experienced whirling around in my head.  The next night’s call with Mistress Natalie was spent discussing subspace (she specifically asked me to describe where I went during the session) and going through a sub "application" interview that covered things I liked and what I would like to get our of the sessions in addition to covering what she expected of me.  She said that she enjoyed our time together and was looking forward to exploring with me, but that I could walk away at this point with no hard feelings.  She reminded me of her pager devotion and said that if she didn’t get one later that night, she would know that I wasn’t interested.

At 9 p.m. on the dot, I paged her with the special code she assigned me, sealing my fate and forging a relationship that would finally make me understand what is means to be a submissive.

To be continued…

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Shopping

The complete tale of Mistress Natalie along with the start of my trip toward hitting bottom will be posted tomorrow.  (This is the most important chapter of my story thus far and I want to make sure I get it right.)

For the past few days, I’ve been doing some really fun shopping.  I’m going to get the chance to meet Mistress Trecia in person at the end of March and wanted to do something really special, both to thank her for her hospitality and having me travel up to meet her but also to pay tribute to how much she’s done for me in such a short amount of time.  (Specifically, she’s opened up pieces of my sexuality that I gave up on a long time ago and is also helping put some of my childhood abuse demons to rest, so much so that I was able to stop taking antidepressants.)

Ever since I was able to move my D/s bent from fantasy into real-world relationships, I’ve always loved serving Dommes I was seeing at the time.  This varied from the mundane (cleaning house, doing computer work, and so on) to the extreme (like serving as a personal "pet" during a public outing).  Regardless of the task, I got such a buzz at serving each Mistress, making them happy in some little way and reinforcing my servitude. 

In a way, it’s kind of like being the teacher’s pet.  You bring a polished apple, you clean the erasers, and do other things just to get a smile out of this woman in authority that you’re completely crushing on. 

For Mistress Trecia, I’ve been doing a flurry of web work and some other tasks, in some cases doing building, workworking, and other construction to help her realize her goal of of building her own working dungeon studio space.

This week, however, I’ve started acquiring the gifts I’ve selected as Mistress’s tribute.  When I was first invited up to meet Mistress, I immediately started crunching numbers and trying to figure out things like transportation and hotel, but also trying to figure out how to spoil Mistress.  I’ve put together a pretty good list, things that fit Mistress Trecia’s tastes and things I know she’s been looking for.

I’m going to stop talking about this for now because Mistress Trecia has already accused me of being a tease by not giving any clues to what I’ve gotten her and because there are still 7 weeks until we meet.

Of course, I am giddy and ready to pop and start spilling the secret because I’m so excited at the idea of being able to spoil Mistress and to do my "teacher’s pet" duty.

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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

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Subspace

I’m going to pause from my history lesson to talk a little bit about subpace.

When I was a young kid (around 7 years old), I was pulled out of class and sent into a room for some "special testing".  It was unlike any other test I had ever taken - for one question, you had to take a page filled with outlines of eggs and turn them into as many different things as possible, for example.  The results of those tests caused my parents to take me for more private testing, doing mazes and solving logic problems for a nice lady in a lab coat.  I didn’t know it at the time, but those tests would shape a large part of my childhood.

As you’ve probably guessed, it seems (at least on paper) that my brain is wired a little differently than the average person’s.  While that may sound like life potential personified (or me just being a pompous ass), it actually just became an excuse for my parents to constantly tell me I wasn’t doing well enough at anything. 

As I got older, my mind started to get….well, cluttered for lack of a better word.    I always had various things cooking on my mental burner all at the same time, from writing code, kicking around ideas for another novel, running though movie quotes, trying to remember the name of the cute girl that rode on my bus to school, and so on.  These days, I can’t even get to sleep without listening to an MP3 podcast so I can quiet enough of the thoughts so I can sleep.

My first inkling of "subspace" came during a session with Mistress Debbie.  I was bound firm across the back of a sawhorse and she was trying out her impressive array of paddles on my ass.  The pain I was feeling and desire to perform well for Mistress started to have an interesting effect on me.  It started to occur to me that the only thing I really could do at that moment was feel and experience what was happening right then - the click of Mistress’s high heels on the concrete, the whooshing of the paddle as she came in for a hit, the dusty smell of the garage mixed with Mistress’s perfume, the sting and warmth of my ass checks from the punishment.

I couldn’t move and there was no decision I could have made that would have changed the situation for me.  The only action I could take was to feel  and the only single thing that mattered was if Mistress was happy.

The realization did something unbelievable - it started to quiet my mind.  It was like having 20 radios all tuned to different stations and then suddenly having 19 of them fade out leaving only one delicate strain of beautiful music.  That singular thinking, being stuck in a solitary thought so utterly and completely focused was something I had never really experienced before.

The feeling only lasted for a few seconds and I completely dismissed it at the time.  It wasn’t until later that I learned to find that place under the expert tutelage of Mistress Natalie, learning to seek that place out pushing myself into subspace where I could just experience and savor each moment in time and set my mind to the only task that mattered, serving Mistress with all of my being.

I’m planning to write more about subspace going forward and it’s importance to me and this current journey I’m on to reclaim the missing pieces of my sexuality.  Hopefully, I’ll be able to do the experience justice with mere words.

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