Tough Topics

There’s been some heavy stuff going down in the world of the Cageslut lately, and it’s been a little difficult to process to the point of sharing.

Diving into the world of financial domination (which is SO incredibly involved I still haven’t gotten my head around it), making my first piece of bondage gear (a spreader bar), a catastrophic meltdown, and dealing with the onset of holidays and settling in at a new position.

It’s vaguely overwhelming, and could take some time to work through.  I appreciate the patience

Dessert (or not, as the case may be)

Not too long ago, Mistress and I went out for lunch.  Her treat, seeing as my financial shambles had recently earned me a whopping spanking, so it seemed natural that I not presume to order dessert.

After finishing our (excellent!) food, Mistress turns to me and says, “So are you getting dessert?  I totally am.  That tiramasu looks amazing.  Or, wait…maybe I’ll get that, and you can watch me eat it.”

She slipped it in so smoothly I nearly didn’t catch it.  But I did, and my heart raced a little bit and my breath caught a bit in my chest.  We talked a lot about this sort of play, but rarely indulged in it.

“Oh really?  You’d be that mean to me?”

“I think I would!” She smiled at me, knowing exactly the effect she was having on me.

Mistress ordered her dessert, and when the waitress brought it out she handed both of us fork.  We smiled at each other (Mistress amused, me sheepish) as I put mine flat on the table and clasped my hands.  The cake looked truly delicious, and I felt real pangs of regret that I wouldn’t get much, if any.

Perversely, the regret made me even more squirmy and snuggly as I watched Mistress savor her dessert.  I wanted to be on her side of the booth so I could cuddle her.

Twice, she ate the bite of cake on her fork and put it in my mouth, letting me get the flavor of the icing and espresso drizzle in my mouth without satisfying anything.  It was a decidedly skilled and cruel trick I didn’t expect from her, and oddly enough it was a pleasant surprize.

Mistress ate the whole piece, after hinting she might just finish off most of it and leave me a few bites.  Another twist I wasn’t expecting, since she typically errs on the side of kindness.  As I found out later, this was a conscious exercise in cruelty in a safe, comfortable setting with no real consequences…and for better or worse, I think she liked the reaction she got out of me.

Specifically, increased affection and cuddliness.  Sometimes I am my own worst enemy…

Start of Kinky, A Story (2)

As was nearly inevitable, Harold gets out of work late.  He rushes: jumping through the shower so quickly it’s amazing any water fell on him, skipping a stop at the mailbox for his new Netflix, not even stopping to suck back a glass of water.  His panicked speed and careful cuts to the post-work itinerary got him to Christy’s door at exactly 6:30.

Christy opened the door, and while she didn’t look pissed, exactly, she was clearly not bubbly and happy to see Harold like she usually was.  ”So what’s the excuse?”  She asked, waving him inside.

“Excuse for what?  I’m here on time, aren’t I?”

A smirk tugging at the edges of her mouth, Christy reaches up and lays her palm against her cheek.  ”Oh honey, you weren’t listening to me on the phone, were you?  What did I tell you, exactly?”

As soon as Christy accused him of not listening, Harold had been replaying the talk in his mind.  Soon enough, the line “Five minutes early is on time” played through his head.  ”Oh shit, I’m five minutes late, aren’t I?”  He grinned as he said it.

Christy didn’t smile back.  ”Exactly.  At least you didn’t tune out what I told you completely.  We’ll have to figure out consequences later.”

Harold’s grin fell away.  ”Consequences?  What the hell?  This isn’t a big deal!”

Sighing, “Look, Harry, if you fuck something up at work, you get in trouble, right?  ’cause your GM is in charge.  I’m in charge, and you fucked up a very simple task I gave you, right?  Am I supposed to just let it slide?”

“Oh you’re in charge, huh?  I dunno what the hell–”

Christy stepped forward and kissed Harold, hard, shutting him up.  They made out for a few minutes like that, rough and hungry.  Christy’s hands pulling at Harold’s hair, his ears, his ass.  Harold groping her breasts, running his hands inside her waist band.  At last she broke the kiss.

“Harry, babe, I told you I want to do something different.  I told you I wanted to get kinky with you.  I want you to obey me.  If you’re not cool with that, if you don’t trust me enough to do what I tell you…that’s fine.  We’ll forget it.”

“We will, huh?”  It felt good to hear that from her, but Harold was a little suspicious.  ”Or is this a case where we go out for dinner and then you cut the night short ’cause you’re pissed at me, pretending everything’s ok?”

Christy kissed him again, a quick peck.  ”No, I promise.  I’m not gonna hold anything over your head.  Either you wanna play with me tonight, by my rules, or we just enjoy each other like normal.”  Christy lowered her eyes, tracing patterns on his chest.  ”I…didn’t think I’d want to go here with you, but you sounded to uptight and stressed on the phone…I thought you could use a night of being taken care of.”

Harold was confused, and showing it.  ”Wait, taken care of?  What are you talking about?”

Christy looked at Harold, then stepped away a little before answering.  ”If you’re only doing what I tell you, only worrying about what I tell you to worry about, not thinking or acting for yourself…then it’s up to me to make sure you’re ok, right?  If I don’t allow you to just up and go take a piss, you have to rely on me to make sure you use the bathroom often enough.  If I don’t allow you to order your food, then it’s up to me to make sure you eat.”

Harold didn’t answer.  He didn’t think of it like that before.  Staring at the floor, he tried to think it over…balancing the loss of freedom (not allowed to take a piss when he wanted?!) and embarrassment (what would that cute brunette server think if he didn’t order for himself…) against the all too tempting idea of being able to truly not worry…to let go and let Christy.

Finally he looked up at Christy.  ”I…I want to do it your way.  It sounds interesting, but it’s definitely not my style.  I gotta warn you, I don’t think it’ll come naturally.”

Christy put a hand behind his neck, pulling him in for a kiss.  ”I know baby, and that’s ok.  I’ll help you.”

Start of Kinky, A Story

Around 3:30 in the afternoon Harold is sitting in the office in the back of the Wendy’s, staring at the pile of cash that just won’t come out to the right total.  Just as he’s reaching for the pile of $20’s and $10’s to try once more his phone goes off.

Christy’s number scrolls across the screen.  ”Hey babe, what’s up?”

She doesn’t answer right away, making Harold focus his attention.  ”Not much sweet stuff.  You doing ok?  You sound really tense.”

Harold ground out a laugh.  ”Oh, it’s just been one of those days.  I’ll be ok.  We still on for tonight?”

“Yes, we are, I was calling to make sure you’re gonna be ready.  Honey, what happened today?”

Harold gave her a long sigh and a few beats of silence.  ”A lot.  I walked in to the service line coolers running warm.  Half the dishes from last night coated in grease.  The deposits from yesterday all jacked up, and the one I’m counting now even worse.  We blew service times for lunch, and I had to send one of my sandwich makers home ’cause the fucker won’t pull his hair back.  It’s…just not good.”

“Poor sweetie.”  Christy’s voice was warm, not at all mocking, and her sympathy made Harold feel just a little better.  ”None of this is going to make you late picking me up, is it?”

Harold laughed.  ”No shot of that.  I’m getting this money figured out and to the bank and I’m gone.”

“Good.”  Harold could hear her smile on the other end of the phone.  ”And babe, I think I want to try something a little different tonight.”

“What, a new restaurant?  I thought you were all about BW3’s on boneless night.”

“No, Harold, I don’t mean where to eat.  Our plans are great.”  Christy paused.  ”I mean how we act.  Am I gonna freak you out if I want to be a little kinky with you?”

Shifting in his chair to removed some pressure from his now-growing penis, Harold grinned.  ”Kinky, huh?  You gonna wear pigtails and a plaid skirt?”

Christy’s voice seemed to cool a little, but that might just have been Harold’s imagination.  ”No, Harry dear.  That’s not what I mean at all.  You should know me well enough to realize I don’t let people take advantage of me…even in a roleplay.”

Hearing the sounds of panic starting to grow on the service line–they must have gotten more than two cars in a row–and he started trying to wrap things up.  ”Ok, so not a school girl game.  What’s the idea then?”

“Me being in charge,” Christy put it simply.  ”You’re awfully, awfully stressed and it’s coming from trying to be in control over there, and I want to call the shots for you.  Let you narrow your focus, just worry about what I tell you to worry about.”

Grinning again, “That doesn’t sound too bad.  So what do I need to worry about for now?”

In a sultry voice Christy explained, “Just finish your shift and make sure you turn over a good store–I’m not that worried, but I don’t want you rushing out of there just because you know I won’t be wearing panties tonight.”  Harold swallowed hard, outright squirming now.  ”And I don’t want your ten minutes late shit tonight, ok?  Five minutes early is on time, and you better plan accordingly.”

Harold felt his heart rate pick up a little at the edge in Christy’s tone.  ”You got it.  Finish my shift like a pro, and don’t be late to get my sexy lady friend.”

Teasing him now, “You’re such a good boy.  I can’t wait to see you.”

“You too, Chris.  Bye.”  Harold felt the blush, but also felt the need to adjust himself as he turned back to the desk full of cash.

Figging 2

I finally had the chance to enjoy figging with someone else.  Like nearly all things sexual, having a partner made it even better

It’s something we’ve talked about off and on for nearly the entire time we’ve known each other.  I’d tried figging a few weeks before we met, and Katie seemed interested in the idea, asking questions and reading up on the subject online.

However–much like myself when in her shoes–Katie expressed a certain anxiety when it came to things anal.  There’s the stigma, sure.  The all-too-personal knowledge of how messy things can be back there.  And then the sheer oddness and newness of the activities…it adds up to not being sure about it, even when the idea excites one.

I mentioned going to the store a couple weeks ago, needing bread and a couple other items.  Katie said, “Sounds good–get some ginger while you’re at it.”  I smiled, and spent what felt like a suspicious amount of time rooting through the available hands of ginger, trying to find one with appropriately shaped fingers.  Katie came to visit that weekend…but we didn’t attempt any figging, for a wide variety of reasons.

The morning of my punishment spanking, we had a chat about time management and feeling as if potential playtime was wasted.  I confessed to feeling a little let down in some cases (a threatened spanking not occurring, being told to pick up ginger only to have it sit on my counter, mocking me) and Mistress decided to hop up and get to it.  We peeled and shaped the ginger, then hopped upstairs.

We’d never played with anything anal before, and predictably perhaps my nervousness grew as Mistress’s turned to excitement.  I mean, I was the one who was going to have a burning plug of spice shoved inside, wasn’t I??

The first time…it didn’t work.  I relaxed, spread myself, and it just hurt.  The ginger was a lil wide, and felt like it was tearing at the sides of my opening.  So…I hopped downstairs (already burning from that limited contact) to trim it down a bit and get some water to help lubricate the process.

This time, it worked.  The delicious burning…as soon as it started on the inside, I felt a tingle in my cock and got a little leaky.  However, the fact something was sticking out of me was unnerving…I think I’d be better able to “enjoy” the ginger once I’m not preoccupied with the bizarre, something-stuck-where-it-oughtn’t-be sensation.

We were also both a little worried about the thickness of the plug.  Mistress was alarmed when I went from all fours to lying prone, thinking I might snap it (in spite of having tested it downstairs) or lose it, and when she started to rotate the plug I nearly panicked, both at the sensation and the vision of it breaking on us.  I’m much more confident in the tensile strength of ginger and will be better able to let her toy with me next time.

Mistress evidently liked the effect on me…the alarm when she moved the plug or smacked my ass, the noises I made before declaring “Yellow,” and the way I pleaded to end the game after just a few minutes.  It definitely adds a new level of vulnerability I’d like to explore further as well

Footjob

You may find it surprizing to know I’d never received a footjob until very recently.  I know it did Katie, and…after I thought about it a little, it surprized me too.  As much as I like a woman’s feet, you’d think at some point I would have talked a sex partner into it.

But no.  I think it sort of comes into the same category as toe sucking…it was something I avoided since no one seemed terribly open to the idea.  I mean, sure, there was one time where a girl had played with me a little bit between her feet…but as far as gotten me off with them?  Nope.  I was totally a foot virgin.

Katie got it into her head to fix this.  Said she was intrigued by the idea, asking me questions about how it would work, etc etc.  We finally got around to it, and it was a thoroughly enjoyable experience

We laid at opposite ends of the bed, and we experimented with different “grips.”  Neither of us are terribly athletic, so some of the angles were difficult to maintain, and the next result was a long slow tease.  Many guys wouldn’t enjoy that…but I do.  After adding a little astroglide to the equation, things got easier for Katie and more frustrating for me.

I liked the sensation, being touched by her feet.  They looked hot all slick and wrapped around my member (Katie suggested taking pics, but for the life of me I can’t remember why I didn’t).  I enjoyed looking directly at her while we fooled around.  And she was teasing me along without any conscious effort–in fact, the more she tried to make it go faster the more maddening it got.

Now I’m having all sorts of thoughts about being tied down, getting half a footjob…

Dinner Talk

Out to dinner at a Japanese steakhouse with Mistress.  We’re enjoying some excellent food, and a chef who is playing to the audience of an 7 or 8 year old girl.  I think those guys get a little cynical about performing for adults (we’re less easily impressed, and less inclined to show it, no?) but pull out all the stops for the little ones.

Towards the end of dinner, we’re discussing what to do back at the apartment.  Mistress mentions having a certain drink I mix for her.  I think about it for a moment.

“Yeah, I should have enough stuff to make you a couple.  Especially if I drink jack and coke or something.”

She smirks at me sideways.  ”If I let you drink.”

I pause for a second, processing.  We’d been pretty kink-free most of the day.  ”Aw, that’s mean.”

Her eyebrows go up, and she gets an arch tone.  ”You’re lucky I let you eat here.  I could have made you watched me eat, not touching your food until we got home.”

I’m nearly speechless…I’m biting my lip and grinning at her with slightly lowered eyes.  ”You wouldn’t do that…”

“Wouldn’t I?”  She finishes her water.  ”I’d probably make you eat it from your dog dish.  You’d have to be really good to deserve a fork.”

Punishment Spanking 2

I like spankings.  Love them, really.  While I can definitely get enough of spanking at one time, I always seem to want more almost as soon as the first one is over.  Knowing this, Mistress and I discussed the idea of punishment spanking early on in our relationship.  We’d both agreed, in principle, that it was totally possible to make such a fun activity into an unpleasant one.  Now we were going to put it to the test.

Mistress put me on my hands and knees, not the most comfortable position for me to maintain…and very far away from her.  My favorite spankings are when I’m across her lap, able to put my hands on her legs and feel her under me.  Having no physical contact changed the atmosphere immediately, and I already felt like a naughty boy, and not in the fun sense of the word.

She asked if I needed a warm up, and I declined…partly because I knew that’d make it hurt more, and the effects last longer.  It hurt, and as predicted not in a warm fuzzy way.  The first couple smacks with the flat of the hairbrush were bad enough to make me catch my breath, and even though Mistress rubbed me it didn’t take away the burn.  She spaced out the blows so I felt the full effect of each of them, and I was grunting and squeaking in no time.

I was also feeling sobs welling, and that’s something I’ve only felt once before during a spanking.

About this point, Mistress started asking me questions.  I honestly can’t remember her exact words or even the real flow of the conversation…but she was guiding me through a litany of sorts.  Asking me (I think…) why I was being spanked, if I understood why, what I was going to do about it.  She was gentle, and when at one point I told her I didn’t know what the right answer was she just rubbed my ass and told me what she was looking for, and I agreed to it readily after she spanked me again.

I think it was this call and answer routine that actually coaxed the tears out.  I didn’t break down and start crying…but my throat was uncomfortable thick, I was trembling, and sobs were catching in some of my replies.  I had tears welling, and I think one or two did drip down my cheek before Mistress was done.  I almost wished the dam would break…but it didn’t happen, and I’m not sure why.  Maybe things weren’t quite intense enough for that.

Not even during the grand finale, after Mistress had heard the answers she wanted from me and she started spanking me rapidly.  I was crying out, shifting, taken aback by how intense the pain was.  A long pause, and some rubbing, and she told me I was finished.  I immediate curled into her lap, sobbing a little and a few tears leaking out.  It took a little while for my trembling to stop, and my breath would hitch a few times before I got Mistress home, but I already felt lighter.

Honestly, I felt a little like I was floating.  The headspace Mistress put me in was incredible…it wasn’t exactly a happy place because of why I was there, but it was a clean place.  I didn’t have the weight of my guilt over the money, or the fear of what could happen if I didn’t get things straightened out stinking up my mind.  I didn’t feel like a failure anymore, I simply felt I’d make a mistake that could be taken care of.  I felt a little sheepish for needing the correction, but I did feel corrected.  I’d been called out on my behavior, and promised my Mistress I’d fix it.  It made an incredible difference in my state of mind and my outlook on the problem.

Revisiting it in my mind has been enough to make me a little teary all over, and to feel incredibly grateful to be with my Mistress.  The fact she didn’t hesitate to agree to my request, and managed to punish me in a way that made it her own (and not simply a fantasy fulfillment situation) is just amazing.  While I hopefully don’t need many of these spankings, knowing she has this sort of power over me is comforting.

In short, I’m very thankful for my Mistress.  For this spanking, and dozens of other reasons.  Happy Thanksgiving, all you kinky kids.

Punishment Spanking 1

Katie and I had a great visit earlier this week.  We had a full day and a half to ourselves, no commitments or plans.  A few things we wanted to play around with kink wise, but mostly just kicking back and enjoying each other’s company.  It’s something we’ve become fairly limited on.

Everything was great, that is, until towards the end of our second day, a few hours before I needed to take her home.  I hopped on my computer to pay a couple bills, and realized that yet again I was out of money before I could pay everyone I owed.  There’s a lot of reasons for this, but it all really boils down to sloppy money management.

This realization and the dark places my imagination went with it (trashed credit, car repossesed, eviction, living on plain pasta, not able to afford the gas to see Katie) dragged me down.  I withdrew a little bit, got a pretty hard case of the blues.  Katie talked to me, and we snuggled on the couch as we discussed my options for dealing with the not-yet-imminent crisis.  It helped

I still felt awful, even as we moved from the couch to bed (comfier for two people to cuddle in).  I lay cuddled under her arm, head level with her chest (even the proximity to her fantastic bosom wasn’t helping dispel my sense of doom).  I tried to pinpoint what was dragging me down so hard, and it wasn’t easy.  There was fear, guilt, anger at getting caught in the credit game, frustration that a few minor mistakes (a day late for a payment, for instance) was creating this much stress.  The more I thought about it, the more irritated and depressed I got.

I was rehashing how simply paying attention to due dates would have saved me X dollars, and a stray thought hit my brain: I needed to be punished for that.  Once the thought got into my consciousness, it grew, until I was sporting a hard on and my heart was racing.

I’ve been in this position before, in a previous relationship.  I’d been stressed, upset, and utterly certain a good spanking would clear my head…so I’d asked for it.  While my girlfriend at the time wasn’t against spanking me in principle, she seemed to recoil at this request and never answered it directly.  I never got that spanking.  Needless to say, I felt like…a moron.  A freakish moron, at that.  Rejection on steroids.

So I almost didn’t ask Katie to spank me for being an idiot with my money.  It took me a few minutes of silently snuggling closer and closer until I got up the nerve.  We had a brief conversation.

Me: “Do you think you could…spank me?  A punishment one, I mean.  I think being punished for this would help clear my mind.”

Katie: “Do you honestly think it’ll help?  I didn’t suggest it earlier because I don’t think it would do much good.  I know if I were in your shoes, being punished for something already stressing me out would piss me off.”

Me, after a long pause, honestly considering and sorting feelings: “Yeah, I think it will help.  I need the pain; I need to have pain then move on instead of agonizing over it until it eventually gets resolved.  I think it’ll help with the guilt I’m feeling.”

Katie: “Is there an implement you think will work best?”

Me: “I think the hairbrush will do the trick.”  I pause, remembering having told her it was my favorite implement.  ”When you want it, it’s extremely not fun.”

Katie: “Fine.  Go get it for me.”

Me, handing it over: “And…I think a lecture would be a good thing, Ma’am.”  I’m shy about this, feeling ridiculous and afraid of looking like I’m building a fantasy scenario.  She just nods.

After a moment, Mistress told me to get on my hands and knees in front of her.

“Outed” on an Outing

Katie and I went out on a pretty vanilla date to a local arts festival downtown.  The stretch of town where the festival is also includes an excellent run of sex shops, including The Chamber and The Garden.  We don’t often get downtown, and since we love the Chamber we decided to stop in on our way back home.

We looked at–and nearly bought–a riding crop.  While we discussed it in front of the sales lady, our roles were pretty ambiguous (though someone could probably have surmised from the way Mistress took charge of the shopping experience).  I was framing it in terms of what she wanted to use it for…not as in “Do I want to be hit with this?”

That stance was harder to do when we looked at collars.  Well, it was harder at first…and then it became impossible.  The sales girl mentioned we could try it on…and that’s just was Mistress did, wrap one around my throat.  I’m sure I was blushing, if only slightly…but having to evaluate the product kept my mind from dwelling too long.

It also helps that the staff at The Chamber have been nothing but cool.  No one has never made me or anyone I was with feel uncomfortable.

But still…there wasn’t a doubt in anyone’s mind who was glancing at us just what our relationship is all about.  It was embarrassing, but fun and refreshing too  I’m looking forward to exploring this more and more, even as part of me would rather skip the exercise