a strange desire

Mommy and I had a fairly relaxing weekend. On Saturday, we took a small road trip so she could pick up her new motorcycle, although we were both too tired at the end of the day to go to a biker bar so she could flirt with other men. However, at one point, as I was between her legs with the Magic Wand, she said she was fantasizing about a large biker bending her over her new bike and fucking her. She elaborated how he would take her roughly in the parking lot. She would wear a skirt, and he would bend her over, lift it up, and start fucking her hard on the motorcycle I bought for her. She also added "too bad you can't fuck me."

Several times over the weekend we stole time to make Mommy cum to this image. In one session, I was between her legs, fixated on her pussy and how to please it with the Magic Wand. I love her scent, and its very exciting to feel the muscles deep in her legs quiver against the side of my head when she is close to cumming. In another session, I was beside her, rubbing the Magic Wand on her while I sucked on her nipple like I was nursing. What really sent her over the edge was when I reached up, grabbed a handful of hair and pulled back on it. Mommy likes this done to her when she is fucked, and I knew it would perfectly complement the fantasy man she was thinking about. When I did this she shouted her approval, and a few moments later, she came.

I was edged in two different sessions. In the first, she bound my hands and feet and blindfolded me. She took a Smith & Wesson boot knife I bought for her as a present, and ran the tip of the blade over my body. This was very frightening of course, and she told me to remain very still as it scraped over my skin. Then I felt the tip travel around my balls, and then up the length of my hard cock, on the underside where I am most sensitive. It was scary and painful, and I knew that Mommy was really enjoying herself.

She told me to pick a number between one and ten. I chose seven. She then proceeded to bring me to the edge seven times, giving me plenty of opportunity to practice suppressing my orgasm for as long as possible. She would alternate stroking me with the threat of the knife point as it scraped over my body, creating a link in my mind between the two sensations.

The next time she edged me, she began with me on my knees, back arched, and she put a small stainless steel butt plug inside me. Although its very small and short, it is still quite a painful and strange feeling. I gasped as it was pushing past my opening, and then I screamed as it sunk in. Mommy edged me several times, and each time, she would continue stroking several times after I yelled for her to stop, severely testing my ability to withhold my orgasm. On the last one, I yelled out for her to stop, and she kept stroking, and this time she wasn't stopping. It took everything I had to keep my orgasm at bay while screaming for her to please stop. Finally she stopped: even a fraction of a second more, and I would not have been able to stop myself from cumming. As it was, I still needed some time after the stroking had stopped to keep suppressing the orgasm that my body was begging for. Once again, I could feel my cock full of cum ready to explode, and when I finally succeeded in holding it back and relaxed, the cum that had traveled up my cock dribbled out.

Mommy said "you had an accident." I said "I'm sorry Mommy, but I didn't cum." She insisted that I had, and I kept insisting that I hadn't. There was no joy, no release. I had used all my power to stop the one thing my entire body wanted the most.

Sunday morning, it was sunny out, so we decided to go to brunch. The area I live in is new to Mommy, but I know it well, and I enjoy taking her to new places I know she will like. We went to a small but elegant place in the country above a large lake. The food and atmosphere were both excellent, and there was even a Jazz trio performing live in the back. Mommy said it was another perfect date.

As is our custom now, Mommy ordered for me, and the male waiter was visibly uncomfortable with this arrangement, this was obviously very strange to him. I asked Mommy to clarify what I should do, as the waiter kept trying to address me directly, and I wasn't sure how to respond. She said that I should sit silently with my eyes looking down at the table when the waitstaff are there, but that if they put food in front of me or refill my water, I can say "thank you" because otherwise it would be rude. Mommy mentioned that ordering for me made her feel like she really were my Mommy and I her little child.

And a few times, when Mommy left the table and came back, and I pulled her chair out for her each time, the women at nearby tables would look at us afterward with a look that seemed a mixture of mild surprise and confusion, or perhaps just curiosity. I've noticed this happens often. I wonder if they think I am being unusually gentlemanly for how people interact these days. Do they wish their male partners acted more like this? Or do they realize that Mommy is completely in charge of me? Mommy told me that I was a very good boy out that day.

Later in the evening, at home, the skies turned dark and a thunderstorm rolled in and over us, and we stopped what we were doing to listen to the rain fall on the house.


Mommy created a Facebook account for this blog, and I've gotten many new visitors from it quite suddenly. Its very nice to see that people find these thoughts interesting. It's putting pressure on me to quickly upgrade the site, and I hope to do this within the next week. Then I can teach Mommy how to post her own thoughts too, and I think people will be interested to see the other side of our interactions. We focus on different details, we interpret the same circumstances differently. We have a lot we can learn from each other.

Some feedback that Mommy has passed along is that there are a few dominant women who feel they are gaining insight into the submissive mind by reading my thoughts. First, I'm not sure how much I reflect the typical submissive mind, and maybe there is no such thing to typify. My experience in the BDSM community indicated to me that people are very idiosyncratic in what they find arousing, and it's no wonder people have such a hard time finding someone they are compatible with.

And I feel like I am only beginning to understand myself, just scratching the surface, and there is so much more to learn. Its only been within the past few years that I have come to understand that I like emotional pain and seek it out. It's still hard for me to grasp this paradox, since it seems that I don't like emotional pain. The pain is still painful to me, but for some reason, I need it. Its hard to make sense of it for myself, let alone someone else like my Mommy.

Its an interesting evolution. I started this blog as a way to get my thoughts out of my head, just so I could momentarily stop wrestling with them and get some sleep. Then within the first week of writing, I met Mommy, and revealed the blog to her shortly after, so she could see what she is getting herself into. Since then, I have written this with her as my intended audience, and she wants me to continue to do this. She has told me that I am not to write with others in mind, and I am not to try to interact with anyone on Facebook. She will manage the account, and she will be the one interacting with people there.

Because I never thought this blog would be read by many people, I haven't been very careful about my writing. I do spell check, and I might reread what I have written once or twice and change things to help clarify them, but otherwise, I really don't proofread and edit. What I write pretty much just pours out of me onto the screen.

What I write reflects my mood at the moment, and in the beginning, I was in an incredibly dark and lonely place, completely consumed by self-hatred. But over time, with Mommy, this has changed. In the past I worried about my secret life being exposed, and constantly carrying and protecting this secret was exhausting. I felt like such a fraud. For example, how could I go to work and lead a staff meeting when, while I am standing there, I am wearing a cage around my cock? Sure, nobody else would know, but I would know; I would know that everything I say and do in public is just an act, and I am just barely getting away with it. I am a monster in disguise.

Now, I am a little less afraid of being exposed, as evidenced by the fact that Mommy orders for me in restaurants for example. At first I worried about what people would think, but now flirting with the danger of being exposed is exciting for me. And of course, this is the first time a woman has ordered for me in a restaurant, so it is a brand new source of humiliation I had not even thought about before. It's something so small and simple, yet it's very powerful. Perhaps it's these small gestures that will most effectively train my mind.

My perception of the chastity cage has changed, and rather quickly. I no longer think of it as something that is on me, but I think of it as a natural part of me. If you asked me to picture my own cock in my mind, in the past, I would have imagined it erect, in preparation for masturbating. Now I think of it as a steel exo-skeleton with a small, soft fleshy part just underneath.

Now when I wear the cage, I have a strange sense of pride. Instead of focusing on the imagined judgements of others, I am focused on Mommy and her approval. I wear the cage for her, and instead of it being a terrible secret that I have to hide from the world, it is simply a private thing that Mommy and I share, that I now protect because it wouldn't be as special if other people knew.

For my entire life, I have looked out at the other world and marveled at the people in it. I was jealous because they seemed to know some secret that I didn't know, or possibly couldn't comprehend. They all seemed to be so happy. Life seemed to be so easy for them and so hard for me. But now, I feel like I have learned something that few people, perhaps nobody else, knows. I now have some answers to my own questions, while others are still searching, or more likely, they don't even know that there is more to search for. The waters of life that they swim in are very shallow. Mine are deep and dark and beautiful.


Mommy's life and mine have been unusually busy this past week, so we haven't had a lot of time together, but here are a few updates from our activities.

This week, Mommy has told me to meet her at the door in a new way. Previously, I would meet her naked, on my knees, eyes down, holding a drink up for her. Now, she has told me to be naked, on my knees, but bent over at the waist so my forehead touches the floor and my back is arched, and my arms are stretched out in front of me, palms down. I am to wear my dog collar with a leash attached, and the leash is also put out in front of me for her to grab easily. I stay in this position, without stirring, while she removes her shoes and sets her things down. I only rise when she pulls me up by my leash and tells me to "get up." Then typically, we will tell each other how much we've missed each other, and we kiss passionately. Often when Mommy kisses me, she grabs the back of my head roughly and pulls me down and into her, and I can't help but whimper a little as she takes control of me.

We are taking things slowly, and its occurring to me that greeting her like this will slowly have an effect on my mind. It will reinforce and further internalize both my sense of insignificance and the sense of her importance in my life. Perhaps even more than the act of kneeling this way itself, the preparation for this act is affecting my mind. Mommy will let me know an approximate time when she will be home, and she may give me instructions for how to have things ready for her when she arrives. If there are no instructions, which is more typical, I prepare by getting naked, tidying the house and doing any chores I can in the time I have, and getting her drink ready for her. I am often rushing to get things done and make sure my tasks are all accounted for and completed, so that everything will be as perfect as I can get it by the time she arrives. Then, about 10 minutes prior to her arrival, I stand by the window and watch for her. I have to do this in order to be kneeling in time for her when she arrives at the door. Once I see her car pull up, I quickly drop anything else I may be doing and hurry into position and wait for her.

After letting me cum earlier in the week, she allowed me to be out of my chastity cage for the rest of the evening and into the next morning. It was both a relief to be free, and an odd feeling, and she commented that my little cock looked strange and even more pathetic without its cage. It seemed that way to me too. The cage went back on when I woke up the next morning.

Mommy says she is liking me being naked all of the time indoors, and that when she sees me in clothes, its also "strange." I am still allowed on the furniture sometimes, but she is slowly training me out of this behavior. We also received new steel bracelets we had ordered to replace the previous ones we had. These are much nicer in several ways. The construction is more solid. They are oval, so they fit around our wrists better. And, despite the fact that they have two of the same types of screws as our previous bracelets, that can't be tightened, they seem to be staying in place. Its a much nicer experience.

Then last night, I took Mommy out to a restaurant I knew but that was new to her. It has nice food and a comfortable atmosphere and is on the inlet to a large lake. I knew she would like it, and she did very much. As is normal for us now, she orders for me, although I am allowed to pick my own food and tell her beforehand. This night was the first time we had a male server when we did this, and Mommy asked me if that made me feel any different. It did: its natural for me to feel awkward around another woman, as this is how I have always interacted with women, but it was a different feeling with a man, although I'm not sure I can verbalize how. It was certainly a different kind of humiliation. Another thing I noted was that he stopped looking and talking to me almost immediately, although at one point, he did ask me if I wanted another drink, as my glass was empty, and I looked at Mommy and told her what I wanted, and then she looked at him and nodded her approval. Its actually a little unclear to me if I am allowed to talk to the waitstaff to even say "thank you" or even look at them when they are at the table.

Mommy has started writing her own thoughts down about us that she will add to my blog in the near future when its upgraded. She lets me read them, and in one, she talked extensively about having other slaves, starting with one and seeing where that leads. The idea was very exciting to me. In the past when I thought about a possible future in a Female Led Relationship, I generally thought of just me and my owner. But to be just one of her slaves would crush my soul even more. She has talked about this often since showing me her written thoughts. She has talked about the three of us going out to dinner together, each of us taking care of her needs. It would be clear to everyone that we both belonged to her and that she was in charge of us both.

She says that she is too busy to pursue another slave right now, and she wants to focus on my training, but that perhaps by next Summer, we could both start looking for a third. She asked me to write a Tinder profile for her that would be subtle enough that a normal person wouldn't know exactly what was implied, but something that would grab the attention of another male like me who could guess what was actually meant. She also asked that I write about what I would like in an additional slave, and finally, to write a description of her to give to a slave candidate. I finished all of these, and Mommy seemed to approve of my work.

We are planning to pick up Mommy's new motorcycle this weekend, which she is very excited about. We talked about possibly going to a bar so she could flirt with other men in front of me. We've also talked about how nice it would be to have a rainy day, where we could nap, watch movies, and cuddle while listening to the rain fall on the roof.


There is a myth in the BDSM community that you need to be strong to be a submissive, that you may need even more strength than a dominant person has.

This is counter-intuitive for a reason: its just simply not true. At least, its not true of me, and I don't believe it's true of others either, at least not those subs who seek 24/7 power exchange. These people are submissive 24/7 and searching for a life where they can be more comfortable with this, where their external life aligns with their internal feelings. This is the fundamental desire of a submissive.

Submissives are weaker. Submissiveness is shameful. Submissives are inferior. And likewise, dominants are stronger, and people to be admired. They are the winners in life, in all areas, not just sexually. How can it be otherwise? And how can we deny these truths or find them unpleasant?

The cuckold admires dominant, confident, alpha men who embody these manly virtues. The cuckold admires them all the more because he lacks these qualities himself. It is only right that these men are rewarded, and it is only right that women chose them over us. These men have conquered us sexually. It's repugnant to think that a superior woman would degrade herself by having sex with losers like us. We can only hope to serve these women, to have brief glimpses of their attention by being useful to them and being used by them.

I was often puzzled by so-called dominant women on sites like FetLife who claimed they were looking for a "confident" sub. This is confused, perhaps because these women are not truly dominant either. A sub simply cannot be confident, at least, not in the way they describe. They describe a man who is, or at least, appears to be alpha to the outside world, but who is completely controlled at home, or at least, in the bedroom. But these two states cannot exist in one man, they are fundamentally incompatible. If a sub acts like an alpha, it is only an act, he knows he is a fraud, and this act is damaging to his self-esteem because it's a constant reminder of what he lacks. And a true alpha would never allow themselves to be controlled by another.

It is possible to destroy the confidence in an alpha man so he is no longer an alpha. I don't believe the opposite is possible, to raise a sub to the level of an alpha. Confidence is something that can be taken away, and it can even be quite fragile in that sense, but inferiority is something that becomes part of the fabric of your being. It is exposed when the outer cover of confidence is removed. This is nature, entropy is natural.

The logic on the other side seems to be that, for example, to withstand physical torture, you must be physically strong. This would seem to make sense, but it simply doesn't apply, at least, not to a femdom relationship. The truth is that generally speaking, women have much higher pain tolerance than men, it's just that submissive men take the pain because they feel they deserve it. On some level, if not on all levels, they hate themselves. There is more here that I can explore further in a future post.

But even if all you are doing is "role-playing," these are the roles you are playing: the dominant is superior and in control, the submissive is inferior and controlled. If you think these activities do not reinforce these concepts in each of your minds, even as just role-playing, you are kidding yourselves. If you think that physically hurting a man will not damage him psychologically, you are fooling yourself. It may take time, it may happen slowly, but it is happening. That is how we are built, to be conditioned through these processes and eventually, to be addicted to these sensations until we can't imagine living any other way.

At least, this is how it has worked for me. I am a naturally shy, introverted, introspective, gentle person. I act accordingly, and the world reacts accordingly. I began life in a devalued, degraded state, and I continued to be devalued and degraded. Slowly, over time, I have let go of thoughts of myself having any value. (After all, how can I be right, and the entire world be wrong?) As I have come to understand my lack of value as a living thing, I have come to accept more degradation, in increasing amounts and intensity. This is what I deserve, and it is my fate. This is why death is the true completion of my life, because if it is forced upon me, it is the ultimate expression of my worthlessness.

I know I can't be a confident alpha, and I have reached a point where I can admire such men without hoping I could somehow be one too. This is just not my lot in life. And once I accepted that, I began to want to go deeper into the darkness, to fulfill my destiny as an object to be used and abused.

There are many myths and misconceptions in the BDSM community and elsewhere around D/s sexuality, and I will write more on these in future posts.


Mommy has also started writing about our experiences, and she showed me her thoughts on our first date, which were fascinating to read, to see the things she noticed, her thoughts on what was happening. I now understand better why she likes reading my blog. She also showed me a few of her writings on other topics, including her desire to own more slaves than just me.

We are talking about re-launching my blog on a more robust blogging platform so she can also make regular contributions. I've started planning this and should have something new later in the Summer.