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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.


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.


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.


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:


Monthly tease and edging, then straight back into the cage.

I have a sense this is what my master has in store for me.

Tender intimacy – beautiful!