Last night, Mommy and I had a very nice date, another perfect evening. She texted me earlier in the day saying that she wanted to take me out to dinner and asked me to choose a place to go. I chose a place that we had both talked about going to in the past, a very nice, new, restaurant with great drinks, great food and great atmosphere. It would be new to her, and I knew she would love it.
She said that she would be picking the clothes I would wear that evening. So after coming home from work and showering, I stood naked in front of her while she picked things out, and I tried them on. In the process, she also told me what I would be wearing when we went to a planned event on the weekend.
Once dressed, I drove her to the restaurant. I am proud that this is the first night that I followed all her rules completely and flawlessly. I opened doors for her, and placed my hand on the small of her back as she entered them. I pulled out her chair for her. I stood when she went to the bathroom, and while she was away, our food came. I waited for her to return, watching for her, and once I saw her enter the room again, I got up and pulled out her chair for her again, and then we both ate.
She told me beforehand that she would be ordering for me and that I wasn’t to speak to anyone else the entire night. This is the hardest rule for me get right because I am very outwardly focused on others, and I have to be extremely careful I don’t automatically respond immediately when someone speaks to me. Its hard for Mommy too. When we entered the restaurant, the host asked how we were doing, and I instinctively opened my mouth to respond, before remembering my rules just in time. Mommy later said that she was initially confused why I didn’t talk, before remembering her own rules, as this arrangement is still new to her as well.
Its interesting to see how the wait-staff respond to this dynamic. The first few times they come to the table, they look and speak to both of us, and when I don’t respond or even look at them, you can see that it is awkward for them. They aren’t sure what exactly is happening at first, but then it becomes clear. By their third visit to our table, they no longer address me or even look at me. Its like Mommy is dining alone, they treat my place at the table as they would an empty chair.
Of course, its very exciting and humiliating for Mommy to speak for me. I am left to imagine what the wait-staff are thinking. At one point,, I did glance at our waitress’s face when she looked at me, and you could tell that she was intrigued and trying to figure out what was going on. She gave me a look that was a little wide-eyed with just a whisper of a smirk, and her eyes were searching me, her mind puzzled by what she saw.
Mommy has also started wearing the key to her chastity cage lock around her neck. Last night, I noticed for the first time after we ordered, that it was in full view of everyone above the cut of her shirt. And this key is clearly not just an interesting ornament–it is very clearly a generic, utilitarian key to a very ordinary lock. Anyone who is aware of chastity would immediately know that I was wearing a cage on my cock. Anyone else would also immediately notice this unusual jewelry and be left to wonder. A simple Google search would tell them more than they probably want to know.
So despite my anonymity being my primary, "hardest limit," I was quite exposed in my hometown that evening. And of course, I have worn my bracelet non-stop since we got it, even at work. But also because this is my primary hard limit, its very exciting to me to flirt with breaking it. As I ponder it, my mind races, and I forget to breathe until I suddenly start to gasp for air again. Mommy and I share a secret that we are dangling in front of other people, daring them to know it.
This all made me feel very small, very controlled, completely owned, all very nice feelings. I am too powerless to speak for myself, too insignificant for people to acknowledge, in bondage and exposed even out in public in broad daylight. I can feel these emotions wearing away at my psyche, I can feel my mind slowly eroding away over time.
When we got home, we had another intimate session. I gave Mommy an orgasm, and she spent significant time lovingly stroking my uncaged cock. She edged me several times again, despite my efforts to not be aroused by the stimulation. Once I screamed that I was close, and she kept stroking. I had to tense every muscle in my body as hard as possible to stop myself from cumming. I had to go to a very empty spot in my mind. She finally stopped and noted that a small drop of cum escaped. Then again she brought me to the edge, and I screamed that I was close. She kept going, and I screamed out "please stop Mommy!" She brought me to the very edge, and I teetered on it, and had to use all my powers, physical and mental, to keep from falling over. I could feel my cum rushing toward the surface and yet somehow I managed to keep it from erupting. When I was finally able to relax, the cum that had made it all the way up my cock to the exit before being stopped, dribbled out on me. Mommy noted this too, but I assured her that I did not have an orgasm, and I apologized for my sad little drops of cum.
Throughout the night, Mommy talked of our future as we often do. She spoke of me being naked in the home. But now she has added new goals for us…
The previous night, she made me strip when I returned home, shower, and then she put a dog collar on me. She normally left a small amount of room on the collar so she could grab me easily, but that night, she adjusted it shorter in front of me, and when she put it on, it was quite tight around my throat.
I brought her a drink, and then was told that I could sit on the floor and read to relax, while she sat on the couch and did some writing on her laptop. She enjoyed watching me sit naked on the floor like a pet, and once when our dog came over and visited me, she noted that we had the same status and even the dog sensed it. I was not allowed on the furniture in my own home, the furniture I purchased, in the home I purchased. Again, to be degraded like this by the woman I worship, who controls me, gives me a warm feeling inside that is quite new, exciting, and comforting.
And so last night, she mentioned that this would happen more. And she talked about how nice it would be if we could work in the home together. Then I could be naked all the time, on the floor, with a real collar locked on me. Then she added that while I was on the floor naked, helping her with our work, I would also be chained to the floor.
She also spoke of me being captive, a prisoner to her in her home. She knows this is a fantasy of mine, and last night, she spoke as though it was now a fantasy of her’s too. I have only three family members I am close to, and they are all considerably older than me. So, she imagined a time when I would quit my job, have no family, and be her hostage, unable to escape, and nobody would even know I existed. She could do anything she wants, even kill me, without fear of the outside world.
She then mentioned something very new and exciting. She began making references to having other naked, captive slaves, many slaves even. Many that would exist to serve her. But she assured me that I would always be first among the slaves. She assured me I was special. The thought of being one of many naked captive slaves serving Mommy is very exciting to me. It would be a new level of degradation. And I know that if she wanted, Mommy would have no problem at all finding as many slave as she wants. She is so naturally dominant and so pretty. She could have her pick of the very best of a large number of applicants. And of course, I would help her with this too, to build her harem.
She mentioned some of these things over dinner, some on our drive to and from the restaurant, and some as we were being intimate. She got very carried away when I was bringing her to orgasm, saying things with a lust and excitement for them that I didn’t realize she had. She yelled out how she couldn’t wait until I was her prisoner. She wanted to hit me and split my lip, and how wonderful that would be to see every day. She said that she was going to break my nose. She said I would be broken mentally. And she wondered just how broken I could be, something I have always wondered too.
Again, just as she is confused (and I am too) about how I could want these things, I am confused (and excited too) that someone who seems to care for me can want to hurt me, injure me, and take pleasure in the act and the visible aftermath. It seems so cruel for her, and seems so degrading to me, that my mind can’t quite grasp it all, can’t understand her desires or my own. How can she love me, and hit me to break my nose, and smile with satisfaction at my bloody face?
The fact that she could be so cruel to me, and that I would have no power to stop it, is so terribly exciting and makes my chastity so much harder. I want so desperately to be that broken pile of meat that isn’t even human anymore, that has no value except as an living, breathing punching bag that Mommy is trying to destroy.
My mind is changing, my thoughts about all of this are changing. The more I think about it, the more I want it. There is no longer any resistance. To enter that Hell and know that there is no escape is something I would jump into without hesitation. That Hell that I have always been so drawn to, but scared of at the same time, no longer scares me as much, and my longing for it is intensifying.
I don’t understand why, but it feels so good to be small, insignificant, worthless. It feels so good to be mistreated, even despised, an object of disgust. I finally feel like I have found a home, and I found it in the darkness. It feels so natural. In that place, I can relax, I no longer need to hide who I am, and I can stop fighting my own desires. I can just exist, without a will of my own, an object to be used by another and discarded when they are done, along with the rest of the used up, broken trash.