Saturday, September 17, 2016

"It's not like I need it anymore" - by my pet object

My pet object recently surprised me with this delicious little morsel of writing. It's a piece from his perspective on the fun with chastity and strap-on play that I've written about in "Lack of dickstraction and my perfect fuchsia dildo" and "'Why do I like it so much?'" 

I just HAD to share it. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.

I thrust into Mistress Lilyana yet again with the fuchsia cock she had replaced mine with, feeling the pressure of her orgasm through the base of the dildo against my skin. It was only one of many orgasms she had that afternoon but this one caused a delicious smile to creep across her face. 

She was sated, for now. 

She was sated in a way I could never be capable of, sweat dripped off me as I fucked her to the edge of my own body’s stamina. My own cock was locked in the clear cage it had been locked in all weekend. Smashed against the hard plastic, hopelessly trying to escape it’s prison. Unable to feel anything whatsoever besides the pressure of it’s own frustration.

“My cock is so hard right now,” I exclaimed with a sheepish grin on my face, still breathing heavily. 

“I don’t know why,” she responded with a laugh, missing no small amount of sadistic glee. “Is it confused?” she asked sarcastically. “It’s not like I need it anymore.” 

A rush came over my body as the words exited her mouth. My face turned red and my whole body tingled as a flood of conflicting emotions coursed through my body. Unable to respond my mouth hung open, agape in shock while the corners of my mouth betrayed my true feelings as they simultaneously curled into the slightest of smiles.

Sunday, September 11, 2016

Boys with handles

Something happens to me when I put on my cock. To say I get aggressive might be an understatement. And with every whimper, cry or moan, my aggression grows.

When I'm wearing a strap-on, I can't get deep enough or fuck him hard enough. I'm not sure I'll ever be able to. 

Oh but do I try.

I've found that rope helps. Well, it goes without saying that everything is better with rope BUT I've found that it really helps with pegging. 

How, you may ask? Well, the title of the blog gave my secret away. I give boys handles. Beautifully tied hemp rope handles. 

Most recently, I've tied two different types of handles on two different boys. 

On my pet object, I used a gunslinger harness to give him handles along both his hips. I didn't stop to take pics. I wish I had. That happens sometimes when I'm playing. I'm more into the moment then I am preserving the memory. But this is kind of what it looked like except there were handles on both hips. And he was naked. 

I pulled out two 30 foot lengths of my scarlet hemp rope and watched my pet object's eyes light up. I sat on the edge of my bed and had him stand before me as I added handles to him. Due to the wrapping on the sides, the tie takes a bit longer than others and we both savored every moment.

I'd forgotten how much he enjoyed me tying him up. Or maybe he enjoyed it more this time than others. Or maybe I just happened to notice this time. But he was all subby shy smiles while I wrapped my rope around his waist and thighs. 

When all 60 feet of hemp was securely tied to him, I pushed him face down over the edge of the bed I'd been sitting on and prepped for pegging. 

Although my style of strap-on play might be best characterized as brutal, I'm not a total monster. I lubed him thoroughly and warmed him up a bit before shoving my cock into his ass. 

Okay okay, if I'm being truthful, I gently pushed it in the first time and even let him adjust to it. 

And then I brutally fucked him. 

On Hando, I created handles on the back of chest harness. This time, I remembered to stop and take a picture.

As I pulled out my rope, Hando stood in in front of me and extended his wrists together expectedly.

"Nope. Today I'm giving you handles."

I turned him away from me, reached under his arms in front of him and started wrapping my rope around his chest.

Once I'd completed the harness with wrapped handles, I grabbed the handles firmly, gave him a shove and yanked him back towards me. He gasped a little at the surprise.

"That'll work."

And then I guided him to my dresser mirror so he could look at himself in the mirror.

"Do you see how hot you look in my rope?"

"Yes, ma'am," he almost whispered.

And then I prepped him for pegging before I brutally fucked him.

As much as I enjoy pegging in a missionary position so I can watch their faces, sometimes I just want to unleash my aggressive side and fuck a boy HARD and deep. And that's just what I did.

The rope handles provide the additional grip and leverage I need to get deep. I can pull him onto my cock HARD as I'm thrusting into him. I can easily establish a rhythm.

And it's a great upper body work out. The day after giving my pet object handles, my shoulders were a bit sore because at one point, he'd totally surrendered to become a pile of subby boy goo, almost limp from sensation, and I'd seized the rope handles on his hips and continued fucking him without much of any help from him at all.

He was hole for me to use and I told him so. "Yes, Mistress," he moaned into my mattress.

Thursday, September 1, 2016

The night I found him kneeling for me

"Let yourself in. Undress downstairs and come upstairs to me in nothing but the steel plug," I'd texted Hando as I was getting ready for bed.

Just as I was putting toothpaste on my toothbrush, I heard a soft, "Hey there" from my bedroom. I peeked out of the bathroom to find him kneeling naked, palms on his thighs.

I was surprised and pleased and instantly wet at his thoughtful gesture of kneeling for me without me asking. 

He's knelt for me a few times. Not as often as I'd ask of a seasoned sub. I'm not entirely sure why I don't ask him to kneel for me more often. I love the way he looks up at me and he is just so fucking hot while he's doing it. 

"I just want to look at you a while," I said, sitting on the end of the bed while I removed my makeup with a cloth, relishing the very erotic turn my nightly ritual had taken. I soaked up the display that he presented as we made sexy small talk.

"Come here," I finally beckoned. And he walked on his knees the short distance to where I sat in the bed. I splayed my fingers around his neck as he turned his face up to me for a kiss. I put my lips to his and gently bit the bottom one. He sighed and melted. 

He oozed submissiveness in a way I'd never felt from him before as I explored his neck, shoulders and chest with my fingertips. Or perhaps it was my own headspace. Regardless, his reactions provoked my inner Domme and I felt more powerful than ever as I basked in the yummy subby energy that rolled off of him and enveloped me. 

He ran his hands slowly up my legs under my long sundress. I should have chided him for not asking permission but I couldn't. He was simply seeking more skin to skin contact, as he often does. In doing so, I discovered I was craving his hands on me too. 

I continued to kiss him, pausing for a few moments here and there to nibble on his neck and ears. My fingertips traveled down his chest to his nipples as if drawn there by magnets. With each sigh he melted further, dragging me into the dangerous Domme headspace where I wanted to take full advantage of every morsel of subbiness he had to give. 

I wanted to bite him. I wanted to mark him. I wanted to push him down onto my bed, yank out the butt plug and thrust my cock into him. Instead I scratched him firmly but not firmly enough to leave marks. I wanted to grab his chin, look in his eyes, say something filthy and then smirk while I watched him react to my cruel words. But I didn't. 

"You're fighting it, aren't you?"

"Yes," I admitted.

"Can't you open the door just a little? Let just a little out?"

I didn't respond for a what seemed like a long while. I continued to kiss him and touch him while I contemplated.

"No, I don't think so."