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I can’t stop thinking about my Master.

I want – need – to write here about my Master’s power over me: about how he has tapped onto something deep inside me. Yesterday I had a session on cam with him – the first time since he re-enslaved me. I’m not gonna go too much into the details, but several memories have been imprinted into my brain and body as a result.

The first is just the sheer intensity of the sensations of an S & M session. My master’s way of announcing that he wanted to dom me on cam was to message me with “a lot of pain is coming – I just logged into my laptop”.

“When is it coming?”

“Now. You can call me now my doggy”.

And so we cammed. For the next hour I endured (and of course enjoyed) what my master most likes to do me: have me naked on my knees, collared, plugged, and undergoing intense pain on my nips, cock and balls. No orgasm at the end of course, just the instruction to lock my cock back up and get dressed.

Mentally, I’m still in that space of physical submission to him. But there’s something else. What I can’t get out of my head is the memory of his body, of him lying near-naked on his bed (in just a sexy white vest), relaxing and masturbating while he played with his slave. Some of the doms I’ve served in the past have been older guys: horny, powerful, considerate, but – let’s say – not usually at their peak of physical attractiveness. But my Master is young, smooth skinned and lithe. I relish his ownership of me not just because of his domination but also because he’s attractive. At the end of our cam session, I pleaded with him to let me see his face again. And for a short while I was able to look at him entire, sitting in his vest on the floor, me at the other end of the line, kneeling. Those moments are as powerful as anything.

Chatting before before our session, I reminded my Master of how my cock always starts to harden when talks to me. “Well, that can’t change”, he wrote. “Even when I didn’t own you” (I had a six month period of being free) “you still got hard when you talked to me. It’s like you’re already marked by me”.

“Yeah, inside”.

“Deep in your soul. Lol”

“I thought about outside too. Maybe making a mark on my body, in a secret place”

We toyed with this idea, and then moved on. But I fantasise about doing it even so – about making a hidden external sign of his ownership on my body, to reflect how he’s captured my inner self. Maybe a discreet little cut that would involve a little pain, a little shedding of blood.

But my Master’s saner than his horned-up slave. He didn’t run with the idea – just as he’s sensibly cautious about some of the other more extreme things I could so easily slide into. We briefly played with breath control in our session, but again moved on. Maybe that’s for the best; it’s reassuring that my Master stays level headed when I, in whatever space I’m in when I’m with him, might completely let go control.

In the background to all this is my relationship with my domestic partner – mostly comfortable, but these days non-sexual. It’s probably just as well that my Master is on the other side of the world, and in any case would be unlikely to want to get seriously erotically involved with someone over twice his age. I on the other hand sometimes feel like an adolescent boy when I’m with him. I think he relishes that aspect of his power over me, but at the same time is careful to keep a little distance – to stay focused on domming me and hurting me. But that distancing is just another way I feel him asserting his power.

I’m captured. Enslaved. All I can do is acknowledge these feelings, and note the other kind of pain my Master causes me (and another aspect of his power over me): the pain of separation when I’m not in his presence.

Can chastity change you? Thumper made this typically astute obversation in his recent post, https://wordpress.com/read/feeds/59602/posts/2320756754:

“My thinking is chastity and denial tend to lower the water level of one’s sexuality exposing topography that’s usually hidden in the depths. And orgasmic satisfaction raises that water back up, turning the topography back into islands or submerging it altogether”

To which I would say, Yes, definitely! This last sixth months or so, since being released from online slavery by Master CML, I’ve been cumming pretty regularly, having reverted to free submissive mode, and whoring around a lot on webcam sites like Chaturbate. The water got raised back up, and this has been a way for me to manage my kinkiness, not get so obsessed wtih being a slave, and accommdate more to everyday life and my vanilla, post-sexual domestic relationship.

And then, the other day, after somehow carelessly going for two weeks without an orgasm I found myself raging with horniness, and absolutely desirous of being enslaved, of wanting to put the cock cage back on and being owned again.

The universe has a funny way of working: as it happened, just a day later, and unprompted, I found a text on Skype from my former online Master with a picture of his dick. “Remember this?”, he asked?

We chatted on and off during the day, but soon enough it was clear he’d rumbled me:

“You want back in don’t you? You know you can just say it: Say, ‘Master I want to be your slave again.'”

Perhaps it was pride, but I didn’t say Yes straight away – even though my cock was already hardening. But before too many more exchanges, we were talking about a period of fixed-term ownershipfor the month of July – and then “wbo knows what will happen?” “And this time”, my Master wrote, “let’s focus on the pain”.

My reply:

“So I will say it like you told me to: Master, make me your slave again.”

And that was it. I’m owned again online. As Thumper puts it, the water level has dropped down, so that I can see my full submissive, masochistic sexuality in all its pervy glory once more! And I feel alive.

Just back from a weekend in London. Inevitably I spent a few hours looking for some horny action — first in a sauna and then in the small hours in the Backstreet club in the East End. It was all a bit so-so — no major stories to tell, but not totally uneventful.  My response to this seems to be double-edged. On the one hand, I kind of think I’m getting too old (or just don’t have enough erotic capital) for this kind of thing. On the other hand, I have as strong a sense as ever that I just love sex, and don’t seem to be able to live without it. The main affirmative thing I took from last night was that it still feels good to be out there living the life of a sub. The sexual instinct remains as kinked as ever (or as it’s become these last few years).

russian-gas-mask-black-1-800x1067As material evidence for this, I’m now the owner of a Russian gas mask complete with breather tube. I’ve experienced these in a few BDSM scenes, and always found wearing them as hot as fuck. I love the potential for breath play and even a bit of popper play. It feels definitely down the sleazier and darker end of the spectrum, but I have to acknowledge it’s there. How long can this go on?!

Recently I’ve started following the blog of Dark Face of Mercury – some of the hottest, sexiest pics I’ve seen in ages. Just though I’d share one of his posts here.

Dark Face of Mercury

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It’s about 8.00 on a Saturday morning in London, and I’m in bed writing this, naked but for my chastity device – which I put on a couple of days ago when I left for my visit here – and my slave collar – which I put on about half an hour ago just after I got up.

No-one is making me wear the collar; I just want to. In about three hours I’ll be heading off to a sauna in South London to meet the Dom I spoke of in my last post. I’m apprehensive for the reasons I spoke of then – he’s raunchy, but pretty tough and sadistic, and I’m not sure how well the scene’s going to go. How long will he want to flog me for? Will his torturing of my balls be more than I can take? How insistent will he be in pushing me past my limits? Will he read me OK and stay focused on what’s happening in the scene? And will I be able to truly surrender to him? To give him what he wants and needs, even if it costs more pain than I think I’m able to take? Case in point: if he wants to paddle me, will I be able to get over my fear of that implement, which in the past has always produced the wrong kind of pain? In those kinds of moments, will I be able to find in myself the desire to grant my Dom his desires over mine? Will we reach a point of connection and letting go?

In this time of waiting, I could just distract myself away from these apprehensions. But – and I guess this is why I’m writing this right here and now – I’m thinking, better to focus on what’s coming. To get my head into that space. To reconnect with my slave self – which seems to have become a bit submerged lately, perhaps because things have been so intensely busy, or perhaps because that side of me is now more integrated into my bigger self, so that it doesn’t seem so insistent any more.

Either way, my intution right now is step into that place again, to inhabit it. That’s why I put my collar on. That’s why I’m minded to stay naked and embrace the vulnerability of that state, and in it to nurture my own submissive power. And to tap into my horniniess. Once again, I’m finding Xan West’s writing about edgy scenes intriguing and arousing, and helpful in feeling my way into this challenging new space. Reading his work, stroking my nips, rubbing the copious resulting preucm into my fingers – it’s all starting to take me there.

7

Not long after writing my last post – now a couple of months ago – I was messaged by my online Master. He told me he’d decided that there was too much going on his life, with work and family, to continue being master to his slaves – at least for the rest of this year. That, after four months chaste, I was now free to cum, and serve others. I still dont know what’s really behind this, but I hope that things are OK for him (he’s only contacted me once since then). Maybe when things settle down for him at the end of the year, he’ll come back online as my master, but my own interpretation of what he said is that in effect I’m freed.

The timing was uncanny. Even though I’ve loved serving him, and still think fondly of him, I was also beginning to find aspects of being an owned slave a bit testing. Don’t get me wrong: the six months Master CML owned me onlne were such a horny time, and one where I’d longed to be for so long – under  psychological submission to a young, demanding, somewhat sadistic, sexy master. But part of me was longing to go back into my other mode – to being a ‘free submissive’; free to serve various guys, to edge my cock when I wanted, even if – my own point of honour as a sub – my orgasm is still not my own, still something to be granted – or denied – by whoever’s in charge at the time.

The other uncanny thing was that my (now former) Master’s message came the morning after I’d come back from a hot S & M session in a London club with very skilled dom in his 50s – a pretty fit and sensual guy who certainly knew how to use a flogger! At the end of the night he asked me for my phone number, and it looks like we’re going to be meeting again in about a week’s time, when I next visit the captital. As one door closes ….

Interestingly, despite getting my wish about being released into free submissive mode, I’ve found myself not really interested in whoring around – online or in the flesh. Rather, I’m excited by the possiblity here of a master who I can serve in the flesh – and maybe, who knows? – on a regular basis. But one step at a time. At the moment we’ve been texting on WhatsApp about our planned meet, which will most probably be in a sauna somewhere. He has promised me a long session (2-3 hours) where he will push my limits and keep me in pain.

This excites me and scares me in equal measure. The guy told me my locked cock when I served him last time got him hard; he wants it to be that way this time, and he wants me to stay chaste before our meet, so that I’m keen to please him. I find all that really hot, of course. But I sense he’s the kind of dom who isn’t just there to take his slave on a journey that’s principally for the slave’s enjoyment. He’s made it clear he gets off on causing his slaves pain, that they are there to give him that. I trust him enough to respect my limits, but I take seriously the fact that he will want what pleases him.

All of this reminds me of a post I’ve mentioned on here before by Xan West, who reminds slaves, ‘I’m not just doing it for you’.  Re-reading that lucid text makes me feel similarly scared and aroused – an exquisite mind-fuck that may be something like what I get to experience. Watch this space!

tumblr_mzd5uqcuxm1qmsicmo1_500Having written tons about chastity on this blog, I’ve tried not to bang on about it too much lately. But I really can’t stop myself from sharing the fact that on Saturday 12 January 2019, I’ll have gone without a proper orgasm for 120 days – that’s 17 weeks and 1 day; or just over four months!

I couldn’t have done this without having a strict, horny master. Because I serve him online, he obviously hasn’t himself been there to keep me physically locked; and, because of my domestic situation, I can only wear my chasity device in the daytime. But he’s made sure my life as a slave has been horny and fulfilling enough to keep me on the chaste and narrow.

He’s done this through using me in hot sessions on Skype when he’s free, and by permitting sessions on Chaturbate (CB) with whomever when he’s not. The deal there is that I play with my cock caged, or – on occasions when I’m allowed to edge – with a strict embargo on cumming. And actually some of the horniest times have been when my Master’s in the room with me on CB, and I’ve been an object of discussion – naked, on my knees, collared, plugged and nipples clamped – between him and other guys in the room. I’ve tried to make sure my performance there as his owned slave cuts the mustard – as a boy who’s obedient, disciplined and horny.

After all this time, chastity now seems like my natural state of being. It used to be that I counted the days. Now I feel quite unfazed at agreeing to yet another week cum-denied. What’s another week, after all! I really do seem to be thinking in months now (a figure of six months as my next chastity period was floating in the air recently!). Like most chastity slaves, I’ll probably feel a bit sorry when the moment comes to cum – the end of something. But at the same time, it has to be about what my Master wants. So if that’s his wish, who am I to deny him in denying me any further denial?!

Meantime, in the lead up to that moment,  I’ll be in London next week, and no doubt on the hunt for some raunchy fun. But I’m to stay locked until the end of the week, so whatever I get up to, it will unquestionably be as a slave still in chastity. I love it!

 

Screenshot_2018-12-28 The Willy Gallery – Penis Picture Gallery TwoFor the first time in months, last night my bf and I had sex – kind of; with mixed results – and this has left me / us in a funny place. Even though I’d thought that I’d wanted to return to sexual relations more than he did, last night it was in fact he who initiated sex, he who got most satisfaction, and he who came. I’ll spare the details here, but the crucial thing for me was that I wasn’t able to get hard at all. Even so, I gave myself to him and tried to make sure he had as enjoyable a time as possible. It felt a bit like time travelling – to our earlier selves, when we were much more sexually active together. And afterwards it did feel intimate as I rubbed his cum into my torso (something I always loved to do) and we cuddled together somewhat sleeplessly.

But the elephant in the room was/is my flaccid cock. It’s true I’ve been experiencing mild erectile dysfunction for some time, but have usually managed to keep my cock serviceable by some permutation of a cock ring, manual stimulation or Viagra. And given that much of my BDSM life lately has involved pretty intense chastity (if not physically locked then mentally consenting to my Master’s denial), it’s not been a major issue. But last night, when I needed it to, my cock just didn’t co-operate at all, and I’m now mulling over what that means.

It could be that my bf and I have got so unused to having sex together that I need longer to tune in (typically, the whole thing was a bit fast and furious). So maybe one way forward here is to keep a sense of humour and keep trying.

It could also be that over recent years I’ve increasingly re-wired the sexual part of my brain so that I am, essentially – and maybe now only – a BDSM slave; so that this is my true nature, and there’s no going back; so that vanilla sex just doesn’t do it for me any more.

If it’s the second alternative, then the implications make me afraid. It would mean that my cock truly is my Master’s (for in his online presence, I do feel aroused), and no longer – even in principle – my bf’s. It would mean accepting that maybe my bf and I don’t have a functioning sexual relationship any more. And what then for the rest of our relationship? Is there enough to sustain a meaningful life together?

And it would mean that I’ve lost my ability to have vanilla sex more generally; that my sexuality has moved definitively outside the normal space of human erotic relationships based on love, to a space based primarily on power. It’s true, I’ve long recognised I do inhabit that second space, but I’d always thought I still also had a place in the first, more human one, too. Now I’m having to think again.

tumblr_nbv0ur5QVL1r4qwuxo1_500

I am missing my Master. He’s got busier lately, so I’ve been able to serve him less; and our chats, which have sometimes been quite extended, and fun, and horny, and with moments of authentic connection, have been noticeably less frequent. We had a horny cam session a week ago, and what sticks in my memory is not so much the raunchy physical abuse I was subjected to, but the last few seconds of the session, when, naked and on my knees in front of him, he still dressed (I love the unequal nudity thing), we just had a still, silent moment together, slave and Master. To me, such a moment of connection goes deep. It’s a bit spiritual – and in fact as horny as fuck. Just being there in my full slave being in front of him. What more can a slave want?

So his absence now (we’ve been in touch a bit this week, not least to play with my new Lovense Hush) also goes deep. I miss him, I miss him. At times I’ve thought that if things don’t pick up again soon, then maybe I’ll ask him to release me from his ownership and let me look somewhere else – or just go back to edging and cumming as a free submissive. But, to be honest, I don’t want another master. I will be patient and wait till he is ready for me. I am his slave.

serviceorientedsub:

It’s not about reminding HIM of ur obedience. It’s about accepting ur own need to live it and display it.

see the MEN i worship: http://serviceorientedsub.tumblr.com/