Driving force of emotions

"I think all of dominance and submission is about emotion at its core and the physical is a way to get there."

I saw this today, on a comment someone had left on another blog.  And it is so very true.  There is so much emotion at the very core of D/s but it is the physical which is just a way to get there.

It isn't about the act itself, it is the emotion behind it.  It isn't the act of humiliation, it is the feelings that lie beneath it.  It isn't about how the pain is inflicted, it is about the feelings that come from and with that pain.

It isn't about how the tears are created, its about the emotion that fall within them.  The feelings that it then creates as I watch them fall.

And I love the emotions that come with D/s, that come from Domination and Dominating, I love the emotions that come from witnessing the submitting and submission. 

And the emotions are at the core of the dynamic, the emotions whatever they are, are the driving force within the relationship. And the physical?

Well, the physical is just the ways to get those emotions, to create them, to cause them, to have them.

So many emotions, so many feelings. All of which are at the core of it all.

It is the emotions that are the driving force.

The physical just gets us there.

I don't want this kiss to end.

As I wrote on this blog HERE kissing is very underrated, and I miss it.

I think about it often. 

Of wanting to lean in for a gentle long, lingering kiss. 

A moment of deep sensual and seductive joining of mouths, searching with a tongue, a gentle nibble on the lips.

I think about it often, because I love it. 

And I know I say that often, and there are LOTS of things that I love. But I make no apologies for talking about the things that I like and I will certainly make no apologies for writing about it either.  In fact, I think we can be safe in saying I will probably write about it often.

Kissing is such a beautiful thing. Regardless whether it is a soft, sensual kiss, or aggressive meeting of mouths and biting and tongues, whether it is rough and harsh being forced against the wall with pulled hair and slapped faces. 

It is beautiful.

When I updated my profile picture on here last night, the boy asked me if I liked to look down when I kiss.  And it started me thinking and I have been thinking about it ever since.

And yes I do, like to look down while I kiss, I like to have the control of how that kiss will be, of its strength, of its depth, I like to be able to pull away at the last moment watching as he moves his lips searching for mine to be touched.

I long to feel that moment of lips touching, gently grazing a waiting mouth, as he stands before me looking into my eyes, his eyes showing the longing that he feels, betraying the inner desires that his own body betrays just as much. It makes my stomach lurch, it makes me breath deeply with my own longing and desire.  And a gentle kiss can create so much desire, such a deep longing.

And as he stands before me, "Kneel" I say, in a gentle voice, and my stomach lurches even more as he falls to his knees, his eyes still focussed on mine, except now he looks up at me, the same longing, the same desire. And it goes straight through my body as I gently lean in and go to touch his lips with mine, and he searches for mine like a baby bird taking food from its mother.

And I pull away, controlling the moment when lips touch, savouring the longing and desire that sits within his eyes.  I lean down and gently run my fingers along the side of his cheek, gently touching the side of his face, running my fingernails across the lips that are longing for so much more.  And his eyes begin to close with the touch, and just as they close I bring my hand back and slap him across the cheek.  His eyes spring open, searching for mine as he tries to focus as his mind is confused between the change in touch from something so light as a feather to a stinging unexpected slap.

And I lean forward and down, and gently allow my lips to touch the reddened skin from my slap, and my hand goes under his chin and raises his mouth up towards mine and as our lips meet I can feel the longing from his lips, his desperation as he aggressively tries to get into my mouth with his tongue.  And I long to explore with force and bite his lip so hard that he pulls back, and I reach round and grab a fistful of hair with my hand forcing him towards me, not allowing him to pull away from the desire that I feel and want to inflict upon him.

And we hold it, that moment, that long lingering kiss with depth of passion and desire, and I feel it as it knots within my stomach and the desire as it works its way down between my legs.  And I look into his eyes and watch as they begin to drift into a place, a window into the depths of his own desires, his own place, his own submission.

And I cannot bear to pull away.  I cannot bear to break that moment. But it makes me want so much more, and I twist the fistful of hair as I bring his mouth towards mine even harder, aggressively searching and probing and kissing.

And oh god I have missed those moments, that feeling so goddamn much.

And in that moment as I stop, and draw away from him, I can see even more the longing within his eyes, the knowing that I have total control over that moment, over him.  And I study his eyes and the look upon his face, a look of such longing that makes me want to slap his face, to bite his lips or to push him down on his back and place myself above his mouth, grinding my wetness over his mouth, his face.

And all the while he looks at me, not breaking the gaze, and I watch as his lips still search longingly for mine, his mouth open just slightly, and the eyes are drifting, and his eyelids begin to gently close as he is lost in the desire and longing. 

And as I lean in to kiss you once more, he closes his eyes, and I love how you react to my closeness and I love the longing that comes from every pore of your body, and still you kneel before me, naked and baring your own desires.  Your lips are so full, so gentle as they make contact with mine and I run my fingers through your hair, along your face, and I trace the outline of your cheeks and nose and mouth. 

I pull back, my fingers tracing the outline of your reddened lips, and I force my finger between your lips and watch as your mouth automatically opens and allows my finger in, and your instant reaction where you begin to suck and lick my finger, taking it all into your mouth.  And my stomach lurches and twists even more, and the longing grows by the minute, my body aching with desire, my head light with the same desire.

And I have missed it, these moments, these moments of intimacy and desire.  I have missed the feel of lips upon mine.  And as I lean back in for more of the kiss, I have even missed it in that short moments of time.  And I guide your mouth with my own, and I force your lips apart with my tongue, and I search and control its depth and the longing, the strength and the gentleness, and still your eyes explore my own.

This is one of those moments you do not want to end, one of those times when you want the kiss to linger on, and I want to drink you all in, its a kiss that makes every inch of the body tingle with desire, and you feel the blood pumping around the body, and the body is betrayed by a gentle flow of its own juices.

And I miss those moments, and I do not want those moments to end.  Because there is something so beautiful of that moment, its gentleness, of how seductive and sensual, of the meeting of lips and the exchanges of desires.

And it is beautiful.

And I long for it even more.

And I don't want this kiss to end.

Close to the edge.

I LOVE limits. 

I love how people have them and how those limits change with a deepening mindset.  That as the need to submit grows, the need to please comes above and beyond so many things, that those limits that were once limits, or things which someone would never thought they would do, get pushed and happen.

This has been the case with the boy.  The boy commented how it maybe difficult over Christmas time due to the reduced amount of contact we would have, both of us spending the holidays with our respective families, knowing that we would be limited to text contact or an occasional chat on the phone.

We had talked about the levels of control that I am taking, and that day by day that level goes higher and higher.  The boy often talks about how he is addicted to being controlled in this way, addicted to his Mistress and the way in which I push him, frustrate him.  But I also know how difficult it can be when you crave that contact and it isn't there, and how hard it can be to then keep focus or to always feel that ownership.

I wanted the boy, regardless of where we were over the Christmas period to remember exactly what he is, to remember exactly who has control of him, his body, his actions.

I wanted him to have something that would serve as a reminder, that even if we didn't have contact, that I was there, that I was still controlling him.

When the boy packed to go away I told him to take the hold up stockings I had him purchase just before Christmas and some pegs.  No intention to use the pegs particularly unless he pissed me off. But full intentions of using the stockings and making him wear them. (The boy later commented on returning home that he could see now that the pegs had simply been a mind fuck!) *grins*


I knew, that this would be a limit for the boy, wearing his stockings while with his family. That even though he had worn them out while shopping that wearing them while with his family would put him through a whole range of emotions and feelings. Fear, humiliation, the not knowing if people would notice. 

Especially when he had said that while wearing them to the shop his mind was playing games telling him that they were falling down. And that he had to keep checking.  He had to keep checking on Christmas Day to and this all helped to serve as a reminder to the boy.  Just as planned. Just as I had hoped and intended.


To be honest, there was a part of me that knew the boy would do as he was told.  The ever growing need to submit and please, his level of subservience becomes clearer by the day, but there was also a part of me that knew I was on the edge of a limit for him and I did wonder if he would say "I cannot do it".

I casually mentioned in a text that he was to wear them for the day.

During the day, the boy sent me a photograph of him wearing the stockings.

He wrote his own thoughts and feelings about having to wear them in this blog HERE and when we talked on the phone on the evening of Christmas Day, I knew that it hadn't been an easy thing to do, that it really had been a limit the boy had pushed.

I was pleased with the boy.  Pleased with what he had done because he had wanted to please me.  How can anyone not be? How can anyone not love that response to an instruction? How can anyone not love having that control over someone?

I do and I do love it.

It was clear at that moment that the boys need to submit and please has reached a level where it goes above and beyond many things, and that is something incredibly wonderful. And it did show to me the depths of the boys submission, the level of control that exists to this point and just how much I will be able to push the boy.

The boy however, was expecting a reward that evening, of being given permission to touch my cock or to edge for being such a good boy.  One thing the boy will learn is that making hints at me, will not work.  Making suggestions or "demands" however subtle will not work.  That I will decide the rewards he receives, that it may not even for him seem a reward at all.

The boy will learn my indifference.

But the boy will learn just how his actions please me and in the ways that they please me. But that reward may come simply from being told he is a good boy, and that it may not come with some huge gesture.

Cruel?

Dismissive?

Maybe to some. In fact probably to a lot of people.  But then people will see that this is my way, that there will always be positive reinforcement, praise, but that also goes side by side with indifference, dismissiveness.

But, the boy pushed a limit I didn't think he would, but he did.  One of many limits that will be found and pushed, limits that will disappear with his ever growing need to submit and to please.

And he did, the boy pleased me.

The boy did good. *smiles*

Control. . .

I have read so many wonderful words in the past 24 hours, blogs on chastity, denial, the innermost thoughts of a submissive male and cuck, the huge range of emotions and feelings that come from his words of his reality and the intense but very powerful levels of control that his Dominant has over him. 

The need, the want, the sheer desperation to serve and please his Dominant and her lover.  There is so much beauty to Domination, to submission, so much beauty and power to surrendering and control. 

Some of his posts were touched with a tinge of sadness as the reality had changed his relationship so much, that he had given control of so much to another.  Many comments on his own blog telling him that his reality was wrong, that to give so much to another isn't right. 

It is his reality. It is his right.  And in his words there was such beauty and depth of control and submission.  Such sensuality and seductiveness in his need to submit and to go to levels of such subservience and degradation.  But something incredibly powerful about the level of control that was over him.

Powerful. Strong.  Beauty.


Reading his words, his reflections made me want to write something similarly beautiful, a reflection of something gentle, sensual and seductive.


But, I cannot. 

My mind isn't in that place at all. 

My mood isn't in that place. 

Instead it is in a place of those animalistic thoughts I have blogged about before, a much more basic and primal place.


But even then, in that place, it all comes back to control. 

The control I need, but which I also have over the boy, that even though I know he is so desperately frustrated that because I have the control I do, it fills the need!  And just as his need to submit deepens, the opposite grows with me, the need to have and to take control.  Not always with force, but with sensuality too. 


Even today, while doing the most basic of things, my mind has been alive with thoughts of taking the boy to a place where he feels so truly and utterly controlled.  Knowing that there is such a level of control over the boy that he would do almost anything.


What an incredibly powerful feeling having such control is.


But, it isn't about just having the control over the cock.  Some people believe that when you have control over a mans cock you have total control.  I do not believe this. I do not think that is quite true.


Yes there is an incredible amount of control there, but it is still about having control over the person, the mind, every part of him.  The boy certainly has more depth than that, but I know, having control over the boy in the way that I do, does catch his attention.


Just as I know when he reads these words his mind will wander, he will see the words control and that the cock will twitch, that the mind and his body will become aroused.  I love the way it is so easy to read the boy, his frustrations, to control his body in this way.  Control with so few words yet control with such a depth.


And it makes me feel alive.

It makes me excited (and I do not just mean in any sexually excited way) to know that the boy is frustrated, but also that the boy will obey, that he will submit, that he will be excited and willing and subservient.  And the deeper his need to submit, the more my need to control grows too. And it excites me that words affect him as much as any touch may do.


And I know, that there are many things which happen to his body, to my cock which arouse and excite him. But I also know that it is so much more than that too, so much more.


I know he will  want to reach down and touch himself, so desperate and longing to touch, to edge, to feel the arousal that being controlled brings to him.  I know as he reads these words his hands will be longing to do just that, that the thought will cross the boys mind, so desperate, so longing, but not giving into those urges . . .knowing that he cannot touch without permission.


Because he knows that while touching feels good, it isn't about the touching.  That it isn't about what happens to my cock that excites the most. It is all about the giving of himself to another.  Surrendering control to another . ..to Me.


I sometimes wish he could see my reactions in response to his frustrations.  I wish he could see my delighted smiles and laughter when I know just how much he  longs to touch, of that battle that goes on between his hand and his need to submit. That he aches to touch, but craves and needs the control.  The control that he is addicted to.

And I know he is addicted.  And I know that addiction, that need grows more by the day.

And I know that the desire to surrender grows by the day too, and the more it grows the more he needs to surrender, the more he needs to submit.  It is as much a part of who he is than the need and desire to control is a part of me.


Touching is good, being controlled is so much better. 


There is a sweet pain of tease and denial, and I love how the boy is so easy to tease, yet so easy to deny. And still he submits to the control that I have, his never knowing what may come next, his never knowing what lies in store for the boy. .that despite his growing frustration that I will tease him still.


But it isn't about touching, it is about the control. 

Something which is a part of the boy and his submisive need, and something which has always and will always be a part of mine! 

one "true" way!

I haven't written for a couple of days, yesterday I had no inspirational thoughts or words even to the point of feeling fed up. 

This time of year makes me feel that way for various reasons, the extreme change to the daily routines that make up my daily life is one of them.   I did however, spend some time reading some other blogs, others thoughts and reflections on their own D/s relationships, the thoughts on FLRs and how so many seem to think that they are an impossibility. 

In reading I have been reminded just how much I hate the use of the word "True" in WIITWD, within D/s or BDSM. 

All of the statements that say because you do X "you aren't a true submissive", because as a Dominant you do Y, "you aren't a true Dominant", that if you were a "True Dominant you would do this"

And its crap!

It is total utter bollocks in all honesty.

There isn't a "true" way. 

Is there something which says that to be a true slave/sub/Dom/Domme/ that you must do this or that? Is there something written down in some special little book that says to be a "true slave/sub/Dom/Domme that you have to follow these certain rules?

Fuck. No there isn't.

There isn't a "true" way. 

We have our thoughts, our beliefs, our opinions.  Of course we do. We are all entitled to them in whatever way that they are.  We may look at others and think "that doesn't work for me", or "that person isn't very submissive" and this is just comparing by our own private levels or standards, it isn't us preaching what is or isn't a "true way"

We may not like what others do, we may not think that what they do is right for us, and that is fine. We can disagree, there is NOTHING written down that says we have to follow what others do, that we have to "fit" into some label for our Dominance or submission to be real!

Yet there are people who believe their own way is the "true" way and that anyone who doesn't follow that way, or listen to it, cannot be true or real.  Suggesting that because they do not follow this "true" way that what they have isn't real. That it is fake.

What I do, what I have or want isn't fake.

It is real.

It is MY reality.

I think it is incredibly insulting for people to suggest otherwise. 

There are so many people who believe their way is the only true way for D/s or BDSM, or FLRs.  Or that these ways cannot exist. But we know they do, for those that have them or live them, they exist.  It doesn't make any of them the "true" way to do it, it makes them the right way for them to do it.

But, it should be what works for us is right for us, that doesn't mean it will or could work for everyone else, it probably wouldn't, but it doesn't make your way the right way and my way the wrong way.  What works for me, what I want, what I need is just that what *I* need.  And if it works for me, then it is the right way for ME, for my relationships.

It really does piss me off when people become holier than thou, preaching and dictating about what is the right way, what is the wrong way.  Those who say that such types of relationships cannot exist.  That they cannot possibly exist.  What total bollocks!

If we live them, if we have those relationships then they do exist.

You may have ideas of "true .....this" or "true.....that", but you cannot win any arguments following those beliefs because while they may be valid to you, they aren't to everyone else.

The reality is, use of the word "true" invalidates so much, because there is no "true" way, there isn't a "true submissive" or a "true slave" or a "true dominant" for that matter.  Someones version of "true", is not real, is not valid, is not a reality for the rest of us.

The only reality is that we are all who we are, that we are all different and cannot fit into these labels or defined with one "true" definition.

So please don't ever suggest that what I do, is wrong because it isn't the "true way".

There is no fucking true way.

Instead it is my way.

And it works for me.  It is your way and that works for you. 

Your way isn't "true", my way isn't "true", they are however the reality for us and that is the only "truth".

Frustration

 

 

Frustration def: (psychology) The experience of nonfulfillment of some wish or need.

 

 

I think, that definition very simply describes the boy and his feelings right now. 

 

 

 

He IS frustrated.

 

He has been, he is and will continue to experience the nonfulfillment of some wish or need and that frustration for him is what is coming from my denial of him and his being in chastity.

 

However much he may need or beg for release, no matter how much he may wish he could touch, he can't.  I would certainly say that the denial particularly of last night was very much a nonfulfillment of some wish or need . . .and it is indeed very clear, why his levels of frustration are as high as they are.  Even if he doesn't mean to, the level of frustration comes out from his voice, from his breathing, from the various different types of sigh that he makes.

 

At times, he sounds like a little boy who has been told "no" over something simple like not having some toy or something that he has wanted.  It is quite possible to pick up this just by hearing his reaction. 

 

My reaction? I laugh.

 

His frustration and the extremes to which he feels it, makes me laugh and I do so openly. 

 

He said how openly dismissive I am of his frustration, of his need. 

 

I know that I am.

 

But, his frustration is understandable. 

 

It doesn't mean I care that he is frustrated, in fact, I don't.

 

I actually love the fact he is as frustrated as he is.  I like the fact that I can make him more frustrated and even though like last night he may moan and complain about that frustration the boy also learnt that moaning and complaining doesn't mean his frustrations will be eased.  In fact, I think that last night, the boy quite quickly learned that I will make it far worse for him, and take the levels of frustration that he feels to another level!

 

And I did.

 

The boy can tell me he has been denied for 8 weeks and that during that time he has only been granted 1 orgasm. As I expressed to him, he is a lucky boy to have been granted that and I must have had a generous day to have allowed him that release.

 

Do I care?

 

No.

 

Denying him, frustrating him, hearing his frustrations and the struggles that he has only makes me want to frustrate him even more!!! And the more he is frustrated and the more that comes across, the more I want to do it even more!

 

He says I am cruel.

 

He says I am a Bitch.

 

He is, probably right. 

 

But while he may feel such levels of frustration, he knows that it is only the beginning, that this is just the start, and he also knows that I do not care, and that I do not give in to whining and whinging and that complaining, begging or screaming in frustration, doesn't get him what he wants either.

 

The boy has I am sure learned, that he will not get what he wants.  Instead he will get what I want, when I want it. That isn't controlled by his levels of frustration or how much he begs, it is controlled by me.

 

And that, the boy is learning is the foundation of everything I am and everything I do.

 

 

Dear Santa

With Christmas so close and all of this talk of presents and christmas "lists" I really must place link this here for safe keeping now that I have just unexpectedly found it again.

this HERE is on my Christmas list, not just on the list, but at the top of the list.

it is a bit like this one in this photo here . . .


Going back some months, actually come to think about it, its going back a year or more, someone shared this item of equipment with me, we had a long discussion about its use and the feelings of humiliation that being placed on it would create (one of the reasons it appealed to me yes!), it was one of those pieces of equipment that I certainly could make good use of and it has always been quite high up on my list of "wants!" as far as equipment goes . . .

But I lost the link, I was just browsing through equipment for some inspirational thoughts for the future *evil grin* and by some miracle I came across it once again. What a stroke of luck that is . . .so I have blogged it here not only for safe keeping, but so the boy can see what wonderful delights lay ahead.


The thought of bolting it to the floor and positioning the boy above it, how wonderfully delightful, making him stand on his tip toes and that if he should need to rest the aches which will no doubt kick in to his feet and calves and he lowers himself down, then he impales himself even more. 

Now THAT appeals to me a lot lol

It obviously appealed to someone else, because here is a blog entry by someone who made his own HERE  now there is a task for the boy!

Although, he did start some weeks ago talking about the creation of a Queening chair . . .but this could give him something to do, something to focus on, and having to create something that will ultimately be used in his humiliation adds to it even more!



So Dear Santa, 

I am ALWAYS good, so bring me the frigging impaler, I have someone who needs lots of things right now, and even though he may not think that he needs this, whether he does or he doesn't isn't the issue, *I* need it .  .

I can but hope *grins*
This could certainly give a new dimension to "corner time", a wonderful tool for punishment, but then, I would get too much enjoyment out of watching him impale himself, I would get too much enjoyment if he were to be made to walk around with it in place.  Would certainly make for interesting "drinks service", but then why shouldn't I enjoy myself at his expense? 

It grows . . .

the need to hurt.

the need to humiliate. 


Humiliation.

One of those things that you hate, but you love. 

You hate the way it feels, but love the way it feels.

Damn, how can you love something you hate, how can you love something that makes you cringe while you do it?

But you can.

You do. And it's so damn frigging good!

Your face may burn with the shame, with the humiliation, tears may fall at just how humiliated you do in fact feel (even better!), but it sends feelings coursing through the body and hits you in places that you cannot hide.  It makes you wet or it makes the cock twitch and stiffen regardless.

But, it isn't about that.  Not everything is about arousal and humiliation isn't, for me at least. Yes of course it is linked, feeling it, or making someone feel humiliated is arousing, yes, it is another thing that goes to that part of me also.

But it is more than that.

For me, it isn't about the act, it isn't about what I will ask the boy to do, it isn't about what I will force him to do, just as it isn't about arousal.

For me, it is the intention behind the act and the mindset involved.

For me, it is about exerting power, but also the thing which really is at the base of my need . . .

control.

My having that control, his lack of it.  And using that control to make him aware of the depths that he will lower himself just to please, no matter how degrading, no matter how humiliating.

And it is that, the intention, the mindset, the power and control which makes the need to humiliate the boy grow.

I know that the boys body will betray him (just like my own did with me in the past) I know that however much he may hate something that he will do it, but that even if he is embarrassed and humiliated that his body will betray him, he will never be able to deny that it didn't.  I also know that those depths, the depths he will go to, will go lower, that the mindset will continue to change, to deepen, and those depths will continue to go lower still. 

His body betrays him in ways he probably doesn't know already. He is already betrayed by the tone of his voice, the way he breathes, the way he will start to say something and then stop because he realises that he is just digging himself into a deeper hole. 

And I like the fact that I will be able to do that, and I like the fact that he will not be able to hide it from me.  I demand transparency, it is one of the hard and fast rules along with honesty.  It isn't negotiable.  But that transparency enables me to get to know him so I can push those buttons, so I can know just to how create those feelings in him, but that I have the control to do that when and how I wish.

There have been a couple of instances in the past couple of days where I have instructed the boy to do different things, and he has said to me that when I have asked him how it has made him feel that he has said "humiliated". 

Good! *grins*

Yesterday for instance, while I was out yesterday evening I decided to give the boy a task to use some of the things that he had bought on the shopping list I had given him.

And, the boy turned my cock and balls into a Christmas decoration.  At the time, it wasn't something I had done to humiliate him, although I am sure on reflection now, that to stand there looking like that is somewhat humiliating LOL 

The boy has written about it and posted photos HERE

But, I had set him the task having been delving into reading about CBT and something which is an ever growing appeal to me also.  So, I had the boy tying on ribbon and tinsel around the cock and balls, I know damn well that it won't have been as tight as what I would have done it (and somewhat the point of it) and although the boy tells me that it caused "discomfort", I know damn well that it didn't cause as much as I would have done. 

But, he said it made him feel humiliated.  Humiliated that he could only touch My cock to decorate it, that he couldn't touch it for pleasure, he couldn't touch it for anything else.  I was, I will admit, a little surprised that humiliating feelings came in that way, but it makes the want, desire but the need to humiliate him grow even more!

I was surprised in the way he was humiliated, but this is where I love humiliation, love how it works, love how wonderfully subjective it is.  Because what he has found humiliating, I wouldn't have overly thought it was. But, he felt humiliation and it makes me smile, it makes me want to humiliate him all the more!

But as I wrote above, it isn't about the act itself, it is the intention behind it, and the mindset involved.  And it becomes clearer by the day, exactly where the boys mindset is already, and just how his mindset has changed in such a short space of time.

And that makes that need grow all the more, it makes me want to humiliate him all the more, and it isn't about whether he wants it or needs it, ultimately, I don't care if he wants it, it isn't about whether he is being denied, it isn't about making him aroused as there are many other ways to do that, it is about the control that I have, and that it is within my hands to humiliate him, that it is under my control what I do, how I do and when.

And it is that . . .for me . . .that makes it grow.

The shopping list

Today, I gave the boy a list for when he went shopping.

He has absolutely NO idea what these things will be used for, how they will be used, or when, but then, that is the idea.

He has them (apart from the one thing he couldn't get) and now, the seed is planted inside his mind.  He will not know what is coming, he will not know what he is going to be doing, or how these things will be used. 

But they will, in my own time.

The boy said he felt humiliation at having to buy the hold ups, looking for the right size and type.  I love that he felt humiliated, there will be many more times that he will feel that.  I wonder if he will feel humiliated when he is instructed to put them to use. 

I wonder what else he will feel when he is asked to do what I will instruct him with.  But I know, that he will do it, that he will take those instructions and comply.  I know that he will do his best to please, because that is what the boy does.

I love planting seeds in the mind, the way they are there and then how they grow, and grow they do.  The mind creates a fear and visions often way beyond the reality.

Mind fucks.

I love them. How they work, how they feel.

I am so going to mind fuck the boy. 

The boy ~ my thoughts, my denial, his place.

I could at this point, say My boy. 

Because after all, he IS mine.

But, to me at the moment he is "the boy" it fits well, it doesn't mean he isn't mine, he is, but for the time being at least, he is "the boy"

Mind you, although he is the boy, there are lots of names that have already been thrown his way, and even though they may touch on different feelings, I know that he is happy to be called whatever it is that I decide to call him at the time.  He will be many things, but whether he is boy, slut, whore, dirty, or any other name or combination, he will still be the boy, he will still be my boy!

I know from my own past experiences the effect that being called certain things, or names used in certain ways can bring a whole range of feelings, that even though some of them may be so humiliating, they still send a sense of warmth, you still feel those butterflies when you hear it, it still makes you tremble with wanting and excitement, you still feel wanted, owned, cherished and aroused.  

No matter how humiliating, no matter how degrading those words or names may be, they still carry and bring so many different feelings, but all in a positive way.  Behind each name still comes the same feeling, the same caring, the same everything.

My "time out" from all that is D/s has been a long one, but it was one that was needed, and has put me into a place where when I move forward, it is with hope for the future. I know all too well that I have not been ready to do so, and even though I was actually not actively looking, the boy came along.

And ah. . . the boy!

I didn't "plan" or expect there to be a boy at all, after all, I was and have been on time out, but it became clear from the time we began chatting etc that we have gotten on in such a positive way.  

We may share similar thoughts, or have similar sense of humours, but we are on totally different ends of the D/s scale, but, it is that complete opposite which shares many similarities and where it allows his submissiveness to naturally flow out. And it does. And you can see it and witness it within his words and actions.

And as is so often the case in D/s, when you have the right combination of submissive and Dominant, each others natural self comes to the fore.  And I believe it does and I believe it is with the boy and I.  However, I also know that he with his submissiveness and willingness to serve and please, has brought an incredibly strong sadistic part of me to the surface. 

I often sit here and think I have such a desire, a want to hurt the boy. 

Yes I have a sadistic streak, a sadistic need. 

But that need is coming out far more now and in a strength I have not known before.  I am drawn by his submissiveness, and in return he is drawn to the opposite (or addicted as in the boys own words lol) and from my own experience that is quite a rare thing to be drawn in such ways.

I know how it feels to be drawn to the wonders of someones Dominance, to find every submissive part of you responding to them, it makes you want to submit, it makes you feel it with every part of you.  And it is the same from the other side, or at least it is for me.  I find myself responding to the boy, to his submission, to his submissiveness and more.

I wasn't expecting to feel drawn to anything or anyone. 

I wasn't really wanting to, but now that I am, I love how it feels, and I am pleased with how things are going, with how things are progressing.

The boy who has now been in chastity for however long it is . . .(36 days or somewhere around that mark ~ I couldn't honestly tell you ~ although I know full well the boy could lol). 

When I took control of what is now my cock, I honestly didn't think he would last as well as he has done.  Yes he may whinge and whine about the levels of frustration, but I know just how much those levels of frustration have been pushed . . .I know that I have made it increasingly harder for him, and have pushed him in terms of edging, in denying him orgasm and making him experience various things which really has been  a torture to hear while he is denied. 

I love to push, he responds.

I love to tease, he responds.

I love to control, he responds.

It is working just fine. *smiles*

He has admitted at times he has longed to touch (there have been times when he hasn't even been able to touch let alone edge or orgasm) but has said he knows that he would be failing, but also that he would more than anything be cheating himself.  And that makes me see the depths of his inner self, his inner submissiveness even more.

He has also learned during this time, that I actually do not care how long he has been denied for, I do not care how hard it is, or how frustrated he is. Whether it is one day, one week, one month, that isn't the issue.  I do not count, I don't overly care about the timing of it all, it is about the control, and that is exactly what I have.

Instead he has learned all too well what we talked about before I took control, those thoughts, feelings that I wrote about in an earlier blog HERE and why I believe that chastity and denial has such a place both in D/s and also FLRs.

My thoughts, my feelings, my wants in terms of denial, in terms of chastity has become the boy's reality, his daily reality, his ongoing reality.


He has found an understanding of how it makes a sub focus on his Dominant, of how you get to a point where you will do almost anything, if not anything to please, (and with the hope that the ability to edge or release may be granted), an understanding that the need and the desire to please the Dominant increases with each day of denial.

And he has found an understanding of just why I said to him that chastity has such a place in both D/s and FLR relationships and dynamics and why, it is something that will have a place in ours.

He has found out what will be a part of his life from now on. He has found out what it is like to be denied, to be controlled and to no longer make the decision about when he may wank, or orgasm. He has found out what it is like to have his cock owned and controlled by someone else.  He has I am sure found out a lot of things, he will no doubt find out a whole lot more!

There is so much more to explore, devices, points of intrigue, extended denial, but especially tease and denial, if the boy thinks he has been teased and denied to this point, he has had nothing yet *evil grin*

And for me it has made me come back into touch with something that I love .  ..something I adore and need . . .control!  It has brought many feelings to the surface, ones that are always there, but ones which have just been put to one side for the time being.

I love the control that I have over this part of him. 

I love how I can tease him, take him to the edge and then deny him. 

I love making him feel so frustrated. It makes me laugh when I hear just how frustrated he is.  

I love his frustration, his desperation, I love how it makes me feel, the power, the way it brings out the sadistic Bitch in me.  I love the control!

Chastity and denial is incredibly powerful. 

I have that power and control over him and I love every single minute of it. 

It really has brought me back into feeling things that I haven't felt in all of my "time out", it has been somewhat of a gentle reintroduction, but it has brought to the surface many many feelings that I love, that I want, but also need.

I know that I can be incredibly dismissive of his frustrations, of his want for release, but it isn't about him. It isnt about his pleasure or not.  I do not have sympathy for his frustrations or his longings.  This is why I do not count how long he has been denied for, it is why, ultimately I do not care how frustrated he is or will get.  He will feel that way AND more.

What I do care about is the results that come from having such a wonderful attentive boy, who will be grateful and thankful for any time he is granted release. That he will serve, please and do all he can to do that, that he will be devoted and attentive, oh so attentive, maybe in the hope that release for him will be granted, never knowing if it will be, but also, that he will be thankful and grateful for every day he continues to be denied.

But I do care about everything it does but more so will bring, to him, to me, but to "us", whatever it is it may bring. In whatever way. I know that all that it will bring will reinforce the relationship, for him, for me, for us.

Just for starters . . .

The mind is a wonderful thing, the way it can take a thought, an image and build on it, of how it can take just a planted small seed and watch it grow and the imagination runs wild, taking you through so many visions, thoughts, images and the more it runs, the wilder it gets, and you find yourself getting lost in a world of these images . . .

Well, my mind runs away easily. 

And it goes down into the depths . . .

It doesn't take a lot.

CBT ~ cock and ball torture has been in my mind the past day or so, I know it is because it is something that really appeals in so many ways to my sadistic streak, but also because it is an incredibly powerful thing, a thing of excitement, but also of control.

Taking quite literally in the palm of my hand a man in that way, of taking this part of him and taking things to the extreme, knowing that it only takes a little blow to create a level of pain not felt by other parts of the body, the type of pain that can knock you sideways, that can make you curl up in a ball and feel as if you've had your insides kicked out . . . 

And I have seen some wonderful clips, some very beautiful pictures of tortured cocks recently, and the more extreme, the more they appeal, the more the mind runs away . . .

And I envision the boy lying restrained.

I cannot wait to tease, to caress but also to torture the cock that is mine to torture. 

I want to push him to limits he has not known, I want him to take it for me, because it pleases me, because I know in doing so that it will bring so many feelings.

And my thoughts go there . . .to the extreme that is. 

Quite easily.

Quite often. 

I am loving the thought of CBT, loving it more by the day if not the minute.  There are so many things that you can do.

That I can do.

That I want to do.

That I WILL do.

Ignoring the cock would be the worst torture of all, but where is the fun in that for a sadistic Bitch such as I (which according to the boy I am) *evil grin* 

Um . . .none LOL

I don't want to ignore the cock, after all, why would I want to not touch something, tease something, hurt something that is mine to touch, tease or hurt?

I wouldn't.

I love to feel a man's balls in my hand, the hand, fingers and nails are such a wonderful first implement of "torture", not just because you get to feel it first hand, but also because you can gauge the pressure, the movement inline with his responses, his breath, his gasps.  I like to take them in my hands, feel them, touch, them, stroke them, lull him into a false sense of security thinking that everything will be so gentle and tender.

There is something so wonderful about that intake of breath he takes when you cup the balls in your hand, feeling the cock stiffen and twitch in reaction, the way his body moves as you slowly start to twist and tighten, and the pain suddenly begins to take hold.   And the breathing changes and they begin to moan, to whimper, to moan with the pain as you twist a little tighter, a little harder.  Watching them flinch as you run a sharp nail along the shaft of the cock, the sharpness cutting into the sensitive skin, and once again the cock twitches and stiffens and the moans and the whimpers change once again.

The feeling that comes as you pull the balls away from the body, watching as they screw up their face to try to work into and process the pain.  There is something so wonderful knowing that at that moment, I can do what I want, in what way I want, simply because I have your balls in my hand.  Regardless of how it hurts, regardless of how it feels.

Excitement.

Arousal.

Power.

Control.

What may happen next, no-one knows, I may be in the mood to experiment, grabbing whatever is to hand to prolong the torture of the hard cock and the full twisted balls.  I may have planned what I am doing and have specific things to hand,  but there will always be that alternation between implements and my hands, I have the need to touch, to feel, for that infliction of discomfort or pain to come from my own hands. 

I may trace my nail along the length of the hard shaft, teasing the head and the eye, I may caress the balls gently and softly, with an occasional flick or slap so the mind doesn't know what is coming next and neither does your body. Making you harder, taking you to the edge so it feels as if you are going to cum at any moment.  Then back to the twisting and pulling, a mixture of touch, teasing, torture, and each time I watch you breathing and your eyes as you process the mixture of feelings, and I laugh at you as you screw your eyes up when it hurts just that little bit too much.

Gentle. 

Hard.

Soft.

Taking you to the edge, pushing you further, keeping you at that moment of release yet not granting it to you, I watch you try to take it, watching you as you begin to beg, watch as your eyes begin to glaze, your breathing becomes deep, knowing the deeper you get, the more pain you will take, that I can start to do more, you breathe heavily, more quickly when I rub your balls, sharp intakes of breath when the pain is a little too much to bear.

And your body begins to relax, the cock still hard and aroused, and then I decide what to do next, what I want to do now, whether I want you to orgasm or whether I want to hurt you some more.

To tie,
To slap
To torture

But this . . .

this is just for starters!

I want to . . .

 . . . fuck him so hard that he screams and cries.

Strap ons ~ not something that have really overly appealed to me really.  I don't necessarily know why, I guess it is because they just haven't made an appearance in the relationships/dynamics that I have had prior to now.  Maybe it is because I am the one who in all honesty, loves to be fucked.  And that doing the same to another seems at times like too much hard work!

Yet, I love anal.  (even the thought of it . . .the memories of it, make me feel so damn hot and horny!)

I have loved it and everything about it for as long as I can remember, from the very first time I was touched there, through to the first time I was fucked and taken in that way . . .And oh my god what a memory that is *grins* 

A long term "vanilla" relationship . . .it wasn't wholly vanilla of course, my relationships never have been, there has always been (long before I "found" D/s) an immense amount of kink, a smidgeon of pain and S&M but most definitely lots of anal.  And I will never forget how it felt, the pain of it, no preparation, no anything.  Just full on, deep, hard, rough.  It made me cry, it made me scream at times, but it also made me cum in ways I have never experienced before (or in many ways since!), the memories of it now run through my body to my sex, and I'm wet with the memories and the thought!!!


Anal. It is my favourite. I love it.  I MISS IT!

I love anal play in many forms, with toys, with fisting, plugs . . . with things such as figging . . .anal torture . . . the mind can run away with all of the things I have done, experienced, explored, and inflicted on others.  So I wonder therefore when I love something so much, that, it hasn't overly appealed, or at least more than it has in the moments I have thought about it and more so, that it is something I haven't actually felt drawn to.

Until now.

The boy, wrote a fantasy blog entry for me this morning it can be found HERE and since reading it, the thought of fucking him that way is growing on me.  The thought of it, appeals.  The thought of it is arousing.  The thought of it makes me wet.

So, with this thought, my mind runs away, and I picture the boy on all fours.  I am stood behind him, spreading his legs wider so I know that when I go in that I can go in deeper.  And yet, I want to go in so deep, I want to fuck him so hard that he cries and screams. 

I want the boy to feel it. I want to fuck him til he cries.  I've told the boy this in a text while he is at work.  Adding to his frustration that weeks of denial and chastity are creating.

But it is appealing.

More appealing than it has been to me before. 

I know some of that is coming from the way the boy and I are interacting and I know that a lot of it is coming from his submissiveness that I see, that I feel, that I witness.  I feel drawn to it ~ to his submissiveness, the way he responds.  Maybe I am allowing myself to finally do so.

It comes as part of wanting more, of wanting to take more.

But more so, it is coming from this need I have to fuck him.  To hurt him. To make him cry.  So, even though it maybe something that hasn't been explored . . .I think that there may come a time when it will be.

I think that the boy isn't going to know what has hit him.

Literally.