He is knelt.
Naked.
Blindfolded.
His hands restrained behind his back. She sits there watching him, taking in every inch of him. Her mind is drifting to thoughts of hurting him, torturing his beautiful body, tormenting his cock, his nipples; his lips.
She traces in her mind the muscles in his thighs, his chest. The images of all she wants to do charging through her mind. He moves his head trying to decide where she is, what she is doing. He has been there for only a short time but his senses are already heightened due to the lack of sight.
She makes him stand and unties his hands before leading him across the room. He has no idea where to, or what his fate is going to be. The blindfold is still firmly in place and as he stumbles along he grabs onto her as if his life depends on it. She brings him to a standstill places his arms down to his sides and leaves him standing there. Even with the blindfold in place she can picture the fear in his eyes, the fear of the unknown. Something she has seen before when he has been allowed sight. His cock twitches, his body betraying the desire that the fear brings to him.
She knows he is nervous, she knows that he is unsure, but she also knows that he trusts her, that he places himself safely into her hands, whatever those hands may do to him.
He is left standing there for what seems like eternity, but is minutes only. She smiles at his discomfort, his vulnerability and drinks in the nakedness of his body, imagining herself hurting it, hurting him and knowing that as yet, she cannot go there, that she needs to reign in her sadistic urges. That she needs to keep the beast caged and away. She sighs deeply at the thought however and watches as he moves his head to where the noise has come from.
She tells him to get on the bed, helping him back to the edge of it so he can get his bearings slightly. He does so, lying on his back, and she attaches his cuffs to the top of the bed. Moving down to secure his feet at the foot of the bed. As she fastens each one, she takes the moment to tantalise and tease him, placing her mouth gently above his own, yet not quite touching, pulling away if he moves to meet her lips. She traces her tongue and her lips over his over his chin, his neck, his ears, with each gentle touch he shivers, gentle moans come from within him, and his hardening cock is begging to be touched.
She moves over him, sliding her own body across his, enjoying the feel of his skin, of his body beneath hers. She traces down his body with her nail, digging it and dragging it into the skin, a reddening mark coming to the surface as she moves down the length of his naked body.
He is spread-eagled.
Restrained.
Blindfolded.
And she takes a moment to drink him in, watching his body reacting to the thoughts that are running through his mind, watching him drift, watching him aroused, watching him respond. And he looks helpless and vulnerable yet strong. And his vulnerability is breathtaking and beautiful, and his cock is hard and perfect. And she wants to take him there and then, she wants to hurt him, use him.
But she doesn't.
She moves back over his body, sliding over him, allowing her tongue to trail tenderly over his warm skin, trailing up his inner thighs, along his stomach, but always avoiding his cock which is screaming to be touched. He tries to manoeuvre so that he can place himself under her tongue and mouth, but she moves quickly away, bringing her hand down as she slaps him, not a slap with force, but one which makes him cry out with surprise. The slap is not enough to hurt him, and neither is it enough to prevent his cock from being hard and erect and longing to be touched.
She moves towards him, bringing her mouth closer to his. She smiles as he anticipates the kiss that he thinks is coming his way. He knows how much she loves to kiss, of how much she takes with just one kiss, and he loves that she loves it, and he loves to feel the passion growing within her as her lips make contact with his own. Even though blindfolded he senses where she is, tilting his head to meet her, making his mouth available to her; never knowing if it will be a gentle probing kiss, or one which makes him wince with the pain as her teeth take hold.
Except this time, she avoids his anticipation, moving her mouth away from him, trailing her nails into his skin, across the tips of his hardened nipples. She flicks them gently at first and then harder, feeling him flinch as the tips of her nails catch the tips of his nipples. They are red, engorged, and she places her mouth over them as she teases them with her tongue, he was not expecting this and the groan of pleasure escapes from his mouth, reaching up she twists the other nipple between her fingers, his groans of pleasure mixing with groans of pain as she bites and twists and hurts him gently.
She still trails her fingers from her other hand across his body and leaves his nipples wet which harden further when the coolness of the air touches them after she moves her mouth away. She traces his body with her tongue, down over his chest, across his ribs, over his stomach, his hips. His cock, just as before, screaming to be touched.
She stops and admires it.
Keeping her eyes upon him watching and gauging his reactions. She stops tracing her tongue over his hips and without warning licks his cock hard from the head to the base and back to the head again. His body bucks with surprise, his back arching up to meet her mouth that is firmly around his cock. The groan that escapes from his mouth clearly audible. Pressing her self against his legs, grinding upon him, he feels her arousal against his skin, her own arousal and wetness clearly felt.
She teases him gently with her tongue, watching his arousal build, the pleasure coursing through his body, and as she watches him, she allows her own orgasm to wash over her. She takes him in her mouth, deep into the back of her throat, her tongue teasing around the shaft and head of the cock as he moans. She thought about biting him, hurting him, twisting his cock and balls with her hands, but at this moment, she is gentle, tender and soft.
She lightens her touch further still; holding his cock in one hand, her tongue gently swirling around the head of his hardness, featherlike touches that can only just be felt, and she watches as he tries to arch himself even more to feel more force from her mouth and her tongue.
She is watching him.
Teasing him.
Frustrating him.
Watching the arousal building in his body, his mind floating, the whole of his body sensitive to the lightest of touches. And he is pleading and begging, and he is moaning and groaning and his breathing is fast and shallow, and his cock is twitching as its close to orgasm.
"It's not all about hurting and pain now is it?" she comments to him.
"No, but you want to hurt me don't you?" he asks tentatively.
She smiles. Returning to the teasing and tormenting of his body, with her tongue and her fingers, thinking that this is going to be fun, she simply says
"Maybe JoJo. Maybe."
.
Always expect the unexpected.
Something I have told the boy right from the very beginning.
The boy often says that he never knows what to expect, and then even if at times he has expected certain things, he has been left bewildered when they haven't come to fruition.
As I say to him often, always expect the unexpected.
It is how it should be. The boy should never become complacent, he should never think that he will know what is coming his way.
He won't.
He should also know that I am and will always be at least one step ahead of him. That there are so many things that he says, even without saying them. That there are many things that he gives away without even realising it.
So, it was unexpected to the boy yesterday when he was given permission to edge more than once. The boy has his own version of events which you can read on this link HERE.
As is clear, from all of the entries in the boys blog and also ones I have made here in my own, the boy is going through extended denial. In that I have total control of what he does, when he orgasms ( which in this case isn't often!), and if or when or where it happens. It is for me, the control of it all that meets my needs, and it also meets my sadistic needs in seeing the boy suffer, hearing him scream in frustration, and it also gives me the chance to tease . . .and deny . . .and tease some more.
So, the boy hasn't been allowed to touch or orgasm for a while.
I gave the boy the opportunity to edge when he went shopping last week, and the fact that he went into the toilets at the supermarket, took out my cock and edged in the cubicle just goes to show the levels of desperation of the boy, the fact that he will go to such depraved lengths to edge, to touch.
(You can read about the boys reflections of that ~ including pics on this link HERE )
And it has become clear that the boy will do almost anything regardless of the risk, regardless of how potentially humiliating to be able to touch.
It just goes to show the way desperation can make someone do anything, things they wouldn't normally do. And it is this, in the sense of D/s that I love, the fact that the submissive will do almost anything to please, that the need to please will push the limits that may be in place, that it will push the boy to do almost anything for release ~ and that is the joy of chastity and denial.
So, I decided that yesterday, we would see just whether we can push those limits, to see just how desperate the boy is to touch, to edge, regardless of where it may be.
Both of us at work, we'd been in touch by text during the day. The boy advised me he would be leaving work soon and I told him that he can edge before he reached home. I wondered just where the boy would do it, and despite the risk of being seen, being caught, the boy stopped in a layby on the edge of the road, and edged in the car. As he writes himself in the blog,
its also funny, that, something that was quite apparent when the boy pulled over, with the closeness, of passing vehicles, turned into an insignificance, once he had only one thing on his mind, he didn't care, he could have had people staring in through the windows, he wasn't interested, her cock, and reaching the edge, and her instruction was all that mattered to the boy, end of.
And it is that focus, that I like.
That the need of him to do as instructed comes before and above anything else, regardless of the consequences, regardless of what it may mean.
And it is that control that I like.
It is knowing that the boy will do whatever he has to, to follow instructions, to do as he is told, and to please. It is knowing that the submissive need, the need to please comes above, beyond anything else.
Such submission is a beautiful thing.
It is a powerful thing.
It is MY thing!
It didn't end there for the boy when he got home and went to walk the dog, I made him put his clamps in place.
Knowing that he would be out walking for 20 minutes and that the clamps would bite, would hurt, and that with every step he would feel it.
And I knew that when he took them off the pain would bite even more.
It did exactly that.
Now, I LOVE nipple torture.
I LOVE nipple clamps.
I think that they are just so simple, but wow, they can have such an effect, for something so small to be able to cause such pain, such torture, and to bring such feelings of submission. They are one of my favourites.
And still it wasn't over for the boy.
Before dinner, I gave him permission to edge again.
The sole purpose of making my denial of him even more felt, something to add and continue to build his levels of frustration. There is always a plan to the things that I do. I always know what I intend to happen and what I am doing and why I am doing it.
And, when we spoke later on the phone, I decided that we would use the clamps again. Again, he wasn't expecting it. But then as I started with the opening words of the blog ~ always expect the unexpected!
However, the boy couldn't find the clamps.
And so, he had to go off and find them, I gave him two minutes.
And I know just what having a timing can do.
It makes you panic, thinking that oh my god, what is going to happen if they aren't found, where are they and no matter how hard you look you can't find them. I know from my own experience in the past, what that panic feels like, to have a certain length of time to find something and then not being able to. I laughed at the boy, I could sense his panic, I could hear him getting frustrated because he couldn't find them, I could hear him cursing and throwing things around trying to find them. And the more he was panicking the more I was quietly laughing to myself.
He finally found them. Out of time. Too bad.
So, instead of them being attached to his nipples, I made him attach one to the foreskin of my cock and the other clamp to one of his balls. Hearing the pain he was in, just made me laugh at him. My sadistic side really does come out at times, and it grows all of the time with the boy.
"You really are sadistic Mistress"
*laughs* "Am I?"
"Yes Mistress"
"Oh dear!"
*laughs*
Am I sadistic?
Yes. I think I probably am.
When the boy told me that the clamp on his ball wasn't hurting that much, I made him switch it to his nipple, the other still attached to the foreskin of my cock. I made him pull on the chain. Hearing him suffer. Hearing his breathing change. Hearing quite clearly the pain the boy was feeling.
*laughs*
"It hurts" the boy whimpered.
"Ohhhhh dear"
*laughs*
I responded with no sympathy and accompanied by another laugh. I do like to laugh at the boys suffering, hearing him in pain, knowing that I am causing that pain even if by instruction rather than physically. I told the boy that he can leave them there until I orgasm. And then just to torture him even more, I stopped what I was doing.
The realisation came to the boy that while I had been "playing", that I had stopped just so he would endure the pain and the discomfort for longer.
"Mistress has stopped"
*evil laughs*
"Indeed I have"
*laughs*
I finally give in and allow the boy to remove them. Hearing the pain he is in when he does, just makes me feel even more sadistic. It makes me want to hurt him all the more. And the boy knows it too.
"You would pull so much harder wouldn't you Mistress?"
As if the boy really needs to ask that question LOL except, the boy has unleashed a hidden beast within me. The hidden beast that is my sadism. The need I have to hurt the boy. It grows constantly. It is just like a hidden beast, prowling awaiting to be let out.
Always expect the unexpected, because there's no knowing when the beast (or anything else for that matter) may appear!
