There’s been a bit more rope play around here lately, and I’m enjoying it greatly. Mostly having my hands tied and pulled over my head secured to the headboard, maybe a bit of cock bondage, and being humped by Bear. Last time he did this, he teased me close to orgasm, and as I got closer and wriggled and moaned, I was getting ready to beg – beg him not to make me come, although my body wanted nothing but. When he let off, I let out a big huff and relieved “thank you.” It looked like he understood what I had thanked him for.
I spelled it out a bit later anyway, in the name of good communication – oh who am I kidding, because I love talking about my denial. As we were basking, he asked me about the far-away look I got for a moment. I told him I was hoping and fantasizing that he’d take his time before he let me come. Maybe until his birthday, I said. He gave a little laugh, a bit surprised I think. Or maybe until our next anniversary, I said. He didn’t react further, and I didn’t press. Those two dates are 5 months and a year from when I last came. Right now it’s been a bit over 5 weeks.
Hubris, with my history of self-control? Maybe. On the other hand, I’m not going to improve my record of obedience if I don’t dream and stretch myself. And I am genuinely curious whether chastity will feel different to me after months than it does after weeks.
When I feel the urge to pleasure myself in the ways that had me coming before, I think “horny and obedient” to myself. Corny as it is, it works right now. What I feel when Bear is teasing me is shifting. My body feels the urgent need for orgasm. I feel both the desire to come and the desire not to, to please Bear by obeying and staying horny. The desire not to come is getting stronger with time. Behavior modification works, what can I say.
A few weeks ago, I walked in on Bear, knelt with a leash in my hand – I had thought about carrying it in my mouth, but then I couldn’t have spoken – and asked him whether he’d like to gag and fuck me. Much to my delight, he did just that a little later in the day. What I hadn’t expected was that he told me to get the collar out. The very same collar that he put on me some 14 years ago, that was the symbol of my promise to obey and his promise to own me, and that I gave back to him when that attempt ended in hurt feelings and tears. He fastened it around my neck, leashed me to the headboard, and humped me enthusiastically while I was lying face-down and drooling into the pillow.
I can’t help myself, I saw all sorts of significance in that. Though I know that he was just playing. After, I told Bear that I couldn’t help but dwell on the symbolism. He told me that was fine by him, as long as I was fine with the fact that for him, this was just a bit of play. I told him I was fine by that. I am. And still I am hopeful.
That collar is in bad shape – some form of green gunk, not sure whether it’s from the rivets I used when I made it or from the glue. I’ll get it cleaned up. And it barely, barely fits me any more. There’s a gap. Bear quipped that might give me incentive to lose weight. Hrmph.