It is truly beautiful to come home and find my slave chained to the bed waiting for me like a good little pet. She looks adorable when she is sleeping and chained up, I watched her for a while and then I spanked her to wake her up and get her ready to be used.
So many feelings.
Being a kept woman isn’t just about dolling up in pretty lingerie and getting used when he likes. It also means not being able to leave.
Us, basically.
Last night, Pup punished me for the first time.
Of course, he’s “punished” me before, and I know I’m behind on most of the stories of spankings, denial, etc, but this was the first serious punishment. Our dynamic has gotten to a place where he’s gotten the go-ahead from me to do stuff like this, but it still hit kind of hard.
Yesterday, I’d been pushing myself really hard to get a bunch of stuff done, because Sir said if I was very good I would be able to tr out the new vibrator I bought. And, I’d done it, and I was at Pup’s place and was looking forward to that. But, I’d been goofing around, and he told me if I pushed it one more time, I would be in trouble. And, well, I pushed it.
I apologized right away, but it had ben done. “I told you if you misbehaved again you’d be in trouble,” Pup said. “You’re sleeping on the floor and you don’t get the vibrator tonight.”
“No, but,” I pouted. “But I got all my work done. And I was such a good girl today. And I said I was sorry.”
Pup agreed that I was a good girl that day, and so I earned my spot in the bed. But I wasn’t getting the vibrator and I was still being punished, which meant he gave me a talk about why I had been bad and that he expected me not to behave that way again.
While he was talking, I couldn’t bring myself to look at him. I got little, which was a little uncomfortable for me since that isn’t our dynamic. I wanted to cry because this was new and vulnerable and I was caught in that weird space of wanting it and hating it and being glad it was happening but also dreading the whole thing and what it implied. I went back to the first time I was punished like this – in the serious way that feels like punishment – when Elle made me hold my iPod up against my bedroom wall with my nose for five minutes. It had been so long, so unsexy that it shocked me, and the fact that the effect was a genuine punishment had made me cry that night five years ago, because I was I was alarmed that our dynamic had suddenly shifted out of playfulness and into something with consequences.
“I’m sorry, Sir,” I said. “I won’t do it again.” I couldn’t stop fidgeting with my skirt. At first, he mistook my behavior for being insincere, playful, and I realize he’d never seen me be contrite in this context.
I told Sir what happened and why I wasn’t using my vibrator tonight, and he agreed that I had been a bad girl and that Pup was doing the right thing in punishing me. So there’s the downside of two doms, I realized: getting scolded twice over when I was being punished.
He had me change and get into bed with him so he could hold me. He let me talk about how I felt, and stroked my hair and told me I could cry if I wanted. “You know I’m not really angry with you. I’m punishing you, that’s all. And it’s okay and tomorrow you won’t be punished anymore. And if it’s too much today, you can turn it off. We don’t have to do this. You have the power to make this stop,” he assured me, but I told him I wanted this, and I knew that was true.
“Will you slap me, then?” I asked.
He brushed my hair from my face. “How do you ask for that?”
I averted my eyes. “Will you please slap me, Sir?”
He did, and let me suck his cock for a bit after. I made a joke about how he was already hard when I pulled him out of his pants, trying to grasp some sense of power or something in being playful that way, but it was so clearly a move for that. I felt so vulnerable – moving into this territory of our dynamic, being in that sad little punishment head – and weirdly it all made me pretty aroused.
But, when I asked him to fuck me, he refused. I huffed, and he told me I could touch myself. I rolled onto my back, sulking, with his arm still around me. As I rubbed my clit, he teased his fingers idly over my nipples. When I argued that it wasn’t fair, he told me I should try to sleep. My head was everywhere and I would feel better in the morning, he suggested, and I knew he was right.
“You’re going to break me, you know,” I said. “if you keep at stuff like this.”
He put an arm around my waist and pulled me to him. “Go to sleep.”
Leftovers, Part Seven
Sir walked me into another area, where a crowd had gathered around a suspended woman and the man that as presumably her partner. We watched, with Sir occasionally reaching down to pinch a nipple or squeeze my butt, as the man pushed a rather large ice dildo into the woman’s ass. I winced more than once.
By the time Sir let me out of the harness, I was subspaced from being in rope for so long and being so vulnerable around him and a bunch of strangers. He held me for a while and played with my hair. Aftercare is so, so important, and I am very fortunate that Sir is so good at it and so willing to provide all that I need.
He determined I was way too subspaced for the subway and ended up calling an uber. While the car navigating traffic, Sir pulled me close and let me nap on him.
That night, I fell asleep feeling safe.
Leftovers, Part Six
Leaving the get-together we were at (even though I was blushingly barely able to make eye contact with anyone after they’d watched me orgasm) was a mistake, but hindsight is 20/20. We wanted to check out a party at a dungeon, but when we arrived we were pretty disappointed. While the venue was fairly nice, the vibe was pretty awful.
People were mostly keeping to themselves and tended to just be sort of awkwardly watching as opposed to mingling. Sir tried spanking me over a bench, but both of us were kind of off our game from the environment. So, I asked him if he wanted to put me back in the harness he learned earlier. We might as well give something else a try before giving up on the evening and our lost entry fees.
Together, we talked through the steps as he tied me up. It felt sweet and intimate: him arranging the rope on my body, me reminding him of some of the smaller moves and praising him for somehow memorizing this thing so quickly. When he had the harness tied and my head pulled back by the rope in my hair and the crotchrope pulled tight, he pushed me over to the mirrors on the wall so I could get a good look at myself.
I had to admit, I liked what I saw.
Sir turned me back around, set to slapping my face and breasts for a little bit, and then led me through the venue by the shoulder.
Wherever we are, I want to always feel helpless to your desires, a victim to your lust.
Content created by: PleasureTorture
Guys, the original content pleasuretorture creates is off the chain so maybe check that out if you haven’t already. You have my blessing.
This feeling, though.
I woke up in the middle of the night last night after having a super vivid/realistic nightmare. (The worst kind, really. Keep your monsters, something about dreaming about something actually, tangibly, believably terrible in perfect clarity.) Just now, I was complaining to Sir about how I needed to be up early today but would be out late tonight with Pup, so I might need to take a nap after work.
“That’s what you need,” he replied. “Nap times.”
“Yeah?” I asked.
“With my deputy,” he said. “Wish you had a paci.”
This, coming from the guy who a year ago insisted he really wasn’t into Daddy/little stuff. Who now was deciding that my task today is to go find a pacifier and then take a nap today.
“Do you really like this?” I asked, nervous as I always am that he’s just doing this to appease me.
“Yeah,” he replied. “I do.”
Guys, I don’t even call him Sir anymore. Like, ever.
In a strange twist of events, Sir now wants to identify primarily as my Daddy. If I ever get around to explaining what’s happened since Thanksgiving, this might make a little more sense.
I wish I could say my trip to see Sir over Thanksgiving was start-to-finish splendid. At the beginning, the whole thing was a little strained. I arrived the night before Thanksgiving in a terribly delayed flight, and then the next afternoon we had to go our separate ways to see our respective families. I got home at about seven, he didn’t get home until much later and I was too tired to do much of anything.
We watched a movie and he made drinks, so I was then way too tired and tipsy to do anything in our dynamic or have sex. And though I wasn’t trying to then, I had been generally evasive about our dynamic since I had arrived, and Sir had clearly picked up on it. Lying in bed, we proceeded to have an argument about how there was something off, we weren’t falling into whatever natural thing we usually did, I was resisting something.
“It’s just that…” I stammered out, and I felt myself start to cry. “So, like, I feel like I’m developing feelings for Pup beyond like sort of just being like fuckbuddies or occasional play partners and so I feel like I’ve been carrying this around since I went on that trip and that I haven’t been able to tell you because I didn’t want you to feel like I was just trying to sub him out for you because that isn’t it.”
It’s weird how – in a relationship complicit in allowing us to date other people – I was ashamed to admit I actually liked those people. I felt like I had somehow betrayed him by letting myself actually care about Pup, and so I was tip-toeing around everything to avoid it.
"I told you to be careful,” Sir said, I realized he misunderstood. “This is what happens when you get vulnerable with people, you have to be careful.”
“No, stupid, he likes me back. I think.” I proceeded to explain the conversations Pup and I had been having. The fact that while I was away on that trip, I’d gotten drunk and went to text him saying I missed him, only to find that he had sent me a text like that, and wound up having this awkwardly frank conversation about liking each other. “You’re not mad, right?”
Sir cracked a smile, “so, sweetheart’s got a little crush, huh?”
I felt like something had been exorcised from the room.