Lace Panties

When Love started that list thing back in June, I had an idea of what this would mean: no T&D, no BJs, nothing the whole July through. I was almost right. This afternoon I made a hook on the last thing on my list (licking Master’s hiking shoes clean, and well, no, it did not taste well as we were hiking last weekend when the paths turned out to be a bit muddy). In retrospective I liked the list, but of course I did not like that Master kept his genuine plan and denied anything. Ugh. So, when I made that final hook today, he was very content with me and told me so. Although I had the thought, I did not ask him whether or not he would allow me anything and he seemed bemused by that. Of course he knew I was on the verge of begging him.

He made me kneel by his side while reading the newspaper, tapped my head every now and then and did nothing for a long time. I grew hornier, of course, and he realized I became nervous. “What do you wish for, son?”. I did not know what to answer as everything could turn out to be wrong. “Don’t ya think a nice big plug would fit you well?”. Hhhhh! Yes, of course. When he had placed the toy, I thought that it was odd, but my hole had shrinked. Love seemed to enjoy the fact and suggested we could enlarge the times I won’t get fucked because it’s so nice to hear me moan and see me getting stretched. Ahm, yes, sure, as you wish. Then again he made me kneel by his side and read some more newpapers. “Do you already have a wet spot in your pants, son?”, he asked mildly smiling, and sure I had. “Hum, I don’t know, perhaps it’d better for your health if you just kept the plug in place until tomorrow and then we’ll see. What do you think?”. I had no words, just a picture in my head of my suffering another day, but I managed to utter again “as you wish, Sir”. He just laughed.

When he finally asked me to get up, bring the paddle, pull down my trousers and pants and come over his knee, I was very grateful. I had missed being spanked at least as much as being fucked or giving BJs. It was very, very intense when the wood finally hit my skin. Sent waves of lust and anger through my body. I asked myself how I could ever have made it through these five weeks. John took his time and gifted me with severe pain and a very red ass. When he paused, he softly stroked my skin. When he changed to his hand to hit me, I was leaking precum like mad and it dropped on his trousers. Although I’m the one to clean them again, Love was a bit upset by such misbehaviour. He told me to go to our sleeping room, undress and stand straight until he would follow. I did. When he entered the room, he had brought the waterproof trousers and the waterproof cape I wear when we’re hiking and it starts raining.

“Make your nipples hard, son”, he demanded and I did (it did not take long). He placed two very tight clamps on them. Ugh, yes! “I still don’t know whether I shall release you from the Birdlock or not. What do you think? Have you been a good, obedient boy? Do you deserve your tiny cock released?”. Uhm, yes, I hope so, Sir. He made me wait and walked around me. “Tell me, what was the hardest thing during the past weeks?”. I answered: to watch you having sex with other men, to watch you sucking them off and being denied all the way. He smiled. “Yeah, you were going insane, huh?”. I was. “See, I’m your husband, I’m your Dad and I’m your Master…d’you know what that means?”. Uhm… “I can do whatever I please, right?”. Yes, right, Sir. He pulled on the clamps which sent shivers down into my cock. “And right now I’m really eager to see you suffer, boy. To make it very uncomfy for you, see?”. Yeah, and my hands turned wet.

The clamps stayed where they were, so did the plug. He asked me to pull over the waterproof clothes and then lay on the bed. He put the hood over my head and eyes and pulled the strings so that the only part of my face uncovered were my nose and mouth. The spread the blankets over me, both his and mine, and tucked them under. Then he came to me side and started kissing me. Just kissing me and whispering to me. I thought I’d go insane. It was tight and grew quite hot, and as the plastic stuck to my skin, moving became very annoying. “Sh, sh, little, just lay still, Dad’s here to take care for you”. And again his curious, greedy mouth on mine, his fingers softly on my chest, wandering deeper and just grazing my cock. After a long while he went to the cupbord and when he returned, he had brought the electric blanket. He spread it on my chest and belly, then added another woollen blanket and a thick pillow. “What if I have to pee?”, I giggled, a bit desperate. “Then you must wet yourself, honey, and hope for the trousers to keep waterproof”. Ugh, yes. Thank god I have a big bladder.

Love returned, again kissing and stroking me tenderly. “Are you already getting hot, son?”. Like hell. He smiled, kissed me on the nose and told me he’d return in a few minutes. When he did, he had brought a baby bottle with tea. Not hot, but warm enough. He let me drink it all, while he kept kissing and slightly touching me, until I felt like melting wax. “How’s your cock? That little thingy of yours…d’you feel a bit nervous between your legs, sugar?”. I did and kindly asked him to release me. “And then? What shall I do then?” I told him and he smiled, but with a sigh. “Oh boy, that’s rude. Didn’t I tell you I will never ever take that slutty little cock in my mouth, huh?”. He came close to my ear and whispered “you will never cum again by getting sucked off, boy”. Ugh!!!!!! I was desperate and he saw it, so he turned to the electric blanket and put it away. It was very, very hot! I was sweating like crazy.

He seated himself upon my belly and very slowly made his way through all the layers to my cock. When he finally pulled out the key from under his shirt, I felt like crying, that lucky me. He took his time and enjoyed watching my tortured cock unfold, then, without touching it, pulled the trousers and the blankets back over me. I had an instant hard-on which hurt a bit. While John returned to kiss and cuddle me, he began slapping my cock with tender strokes every now and then, very tenderly, very cruel. I was pranting franticly.

“I just had a thought”, he whispered into my ear, while the slapped me harder and added some massaging movements. “I won’t suck my husband off, right?” Yeah. He kept moving and I kept sweating and wishing to cum. “But there might be a way”. What the heck?!! He kept slapping. “You know, I don’t like cunts. But I’d like to see you wear nice, soft panties.” Ugh!!! “You know…they should be a little tight for your cock and balls. And be very tender. With lace.” He began hitting me harder and I felt and orgasm building up. “You’re my little fuck cunt, aren’t you?” Yes. Yes! “I want to see it. Show me you are by wearing panties, will ya?” I did not hesitate to nod my head. He smiled and took away his hand. “Good boy, well done”. Oh no!!! He smiled again, kissed me very long and tenderly. “Do you promise?” I do. “Say it.” I will wear panties, I swear. “Then I might suck you off”. Ugh, he might!

When Love returned to rub my cock through all the layers again, it just took me seconds to climax. It was so hard, it hurt, but I enjoyed it unbelieveably. I was hot, I was sweaty, I was horny like hell, everything stuck to me and was sticky, and I just kept cumming for a century. John was content and had me enjoying my situation (as he put it) for 20 more minutes, laying in my sweat and cum. When we were under the shower, he finally fucked the brains out of me and I could only think how grateful I am for that cruel, sweet, evil and loving husband of mine. I’m all yours, John, even in panties. Do as you wish.

Knives And Weapons

Last night I had a bad dream. I watched myself dissociate in our kitchen with a knife in my hand. I was completely out of myself, ran around and ranted about something I had forgotten. I put the knife to my throat and cut slightly into the skin until blood came out, but I did not feel a thing. I awoke with a scream, which merely ever happens. John was awake immediately and looked after me while I broke out in tears.

Only in the morning I realized it was a dream that has his root in my past. My father used to threaten me with knives, sometimes even with a gun. At some point, when I found out that he just got aroused by confronting me with a weapon, I started to like it and sometimes I still get a hard-on when we watch movies and a weapon is pressed against someone’s neck or temple in a certain way (slow, in control, kind of nice and cruel at the same time). I wondered whether it would hurt to get shot and when I found out that he was not about to kill me, I was sad. I thought it would have been an easy way out. I feared knives more as he could use them to stroke and to cut me. Sometimes he pretended he was going to castrate me or penetrate me with a knife to “deepen that hole”. He did not, but the mere mention of it made me go insane.

As I’m still very much drawn to Lord Shiva I thought about self-destruction once more. It is said that Lord Shiva dances the world and the Ego to an end and then rebuilds everything after His will. I wonder when this phase of rebuilding will ever take place for me. I always seem to make one step forward and then one step back, so that I stay right where I started. Am I more stable today than I was at age 21, when my father finally decided to get rid off me? I don’t know. I guess I have never talked about it. I had thought that I was precious to him and that he would never really attempt to kill me, let away all his severe tortures. I was surprised when he finally did and I remember the split of a second when I realized that this time he was real. We had rehearsed my death that often that I was stunned when it got through to me that he wanted to finish it. I had wished for death so often since my childhood but when I realized I was going to die, I did not want to. I was sad and angry, because I asked myself “that’s all to my life?!”. I had not experienced love, I had not lived on my own, I had not seen the ocean. When the lights faded, I was only sorry for me.

I’m still sorry for me nowadays. I grieve for the person I never was, I was never allowed to be. Perhaps I’d be as smart as my brother, have a normal job, earn money, be normal. Perhaps I would not like pain that much and need it as an anchor, which is really quite lunatic. Perhaps I’d have a normal relationship without the urge to get hurt, mentally and physically. I love John and I love our life, but sometimes I can’t help but wonder. Would I be normal? It’s easy to claim “normal is boring”, when you’re quite normal. It’s cynical when you’re broken like me.

What About Playing?

I have managed to make a hook on almost every task on that list John gave me, but still he refuses to play with me which gives me a hard time. I know I could end this all and tell him to take off the Birdlock, but somehow I do not want to. Why? I’ve come so far and in a strange way it satisfies me to experience I have the will-power to make it. What really hurts and tickles is that Love went to a glory hole twice this month. You put 20 € through that hole and then you get a blow job by someone you don’t even see. Later he told me everything about it and I was like melting, because I wished so much for this other guy had been me. But it reminds me of episodes of my life I don’t really like, because I made some money by having sex with strangers when I lived on the street. John said that I have to value that he is so moderate just having a little bit sex with others while his husband (me!) is busy. Ugh, yeah. And sure I like to know he’s satisfied and it increases my own desire to hear about it or witness it, but ugh!!! This evening the two of us will be visiting a gay sauna club again and I will watch him fucking someone else. What is that weird thing about, watching Love having another? I like it and I hate it. I love this man so much, I can’t put in in words. I’d do most everything for him and accept at least all he gives to me. I do trust him to do me no harm. I know he’s very caring, that Dad of mine. There are times when playing hurts. Just like in any good game.

Hurting Myself

One of the things on John’s list of tasks was playing with myself to amuse him (and of course with the Birdlock still on). That’s what I did yesterday because today Love wants to watch soccer on T.V.

It was not easy to think of ways to entertain Master, because I still feel ashamed for my body, even though he’s been trying to teach me to be proud of who I am for years now. I chose pegs, a huge dildo and a wooden spoon, as Master likes to give me some severe strokes with a spoon while I’m trying to keep upright and not to scroch the food. It all started very innocently, but at some point of the game I lost control. John did not mix in and just kept watching me. Perhaps it was a test, I don’t know, but I failed anyway. I hurt myself so bad that today my chest is blotched with bruises and I suffer from belly ache. I should not have done that to myself and today I feel bad about it. I just took the opportunity to hurt myself, packed as service to my Master. That’s got nothing to do with sub-pride or being a good boy or whatever. I still wonder whether BDSM is just a way of hurting myself over and over again and it’s so sick, because I usually like it. Later yesterday evening, when we were in bed, Love turned to me and whispered to me that he’d like to kiss my wounds, but that he won’t touch me before I’m done with the list. I know, but I only seldom feel that bad.

No BJs

Officially being married doesn’t prevent John from being cruel in a very polite way. Thank God for that 🙂 Yesterday he surprisingly suggested to visit a gay club known for his BDSMy attitude. My task: just watching. I wasn’t allowed any contact to others, be it beatings, be it sex. Not even sucking. Nothing. So I sat there and said no to every man who wanted to engage in a game, while Master was having fun with a young, hot stud. Ugh! Watching is still hurtful in a way, because these guys get what I’m craving for, even getting sucked off by Master. When we talk about it, John always asks “what about the fun watching you getting not what you want most if I’d suck you off?”. Yeah, right. He already proposed ending the BDSM-aspect of our relationship because then (and only then) he would be able to suck me off. Heck, no, I do not want that, but still I want to be given blowjobs. Love did some vicious things to the stud’s nipples with clothes-pegs and while he helped the young guy suffering, he watched me just sitting there, getting nervous and horny and not knowing where to look and where to put my hands. And I’m still wearing the Birdlock! Finally Master climaxed by fucking the guy, trickling his semen onto his belly. He kindly allowed me to clean the guy with my tongue. Thought I’d get a stroke LOL Well, and that was it. John drove us home, we took a shower and went to bed, John quite tired and I still horny like hell. Still 36 things to do from the list before Love will be playing again with me.

How Do You Know It’s Enough?

As I have stated before, I’m really into getting punished. At some point of the procedure I lose myself and indulge in the pain and I think I can take a lot. In former relationships my partners have brutalised me until I bled. Horrifying, but I liked it, even if the pain endured for a week or two. It was more of being “fuckmeat” than of being the person I am. Not to talk of love and respect. And I did not ask for love or respect, I just wanted the pain and the abuse. I was aware of the fact that by taking this serious form of injuring I repeated what my father did to me over and over again. He knew no mercy and I stopped begging for it as a child. Until today I almost never beg Master to stop or to slow down a bit and sometimes I am in the mood of wanting more, much, much more than what he dares to give to me. Of course it’s an act of cowardice to “use” Master to hurt myself and when I start to think about it, I feel bad. Is BDSM just a way of self-punishment all the time?

Sometimes when we’re powerplaying, I lose myself so much that I wish to be killed. It’s not that I want to die, really not, I love my life, I love John. But at some point my thoughts run wild and I think of being tortured to death and that somehow turns me on. I know it’s insane and I should not think that awful thing. I do not want to die in real terms, but giving in to Master’s power by offering my life…well, that’s a fantasy that really turns me on. My therapist says it’s no wonder I have these thoughts but that I should try to overcome them by building up self-respect. But let’s face it, who decides what’s best for us? I have experienced a lot of abuse and violence and I think it would be quite unlikely if I dreamt of bees and birds. And why should I change if Master does not even feel guilty about being the dominant and sadistic man he is? We both like it. But I am sure it’s good that John stays in charge, because I doubt whether I would ever be able to intervene if he went too far.

So, how do you know it’s enough? I think I have lost me sense for what would be enough by being pushed far over that line in early years. As a child I was convinced that one day my father would kill me and that my death was just a question of time. He had me fainting by strangling me and I liked it. I got a bit used to it and tried to stretch the moment when everything turned black LOL I liked it because it made the pain vanish and I hoped that I would not wake up again. But everytime I did and I was husky for a few days. It was that first, early experience of belonging that much to somebody who would even have the might and the right to kill me which left me a pervert I guess. I’m OK with it but sometimes I feel bad when I see John’s sad eyes. I’m sorry Love.

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A List

We’re still into T&D a lot and John came about a new idea: he handed me a list of 50 things I am supposed to do before he’ll be playing again with me. I asked how he wanted to control whether I don’t masturbate and with a sweet devilish smile he clicked the Birdlock around me. Ugh! “Honey, if you don’t want to, I could still take it off”, he curred, but of course I want it and of course I will complete the list. For example it includes

  • making Yorkshire Pudding (Master knows I really hate to do this, it always ends up in a mess)
  • clean Master’s car
  • wearing a dildo made of glass for 24 hrs without interruption
  • reading an old Time magazine from beginning to end (guess that will be boring)
  • holding Master’s cock in my mouth while he’s watching football on T.V.
  • standing still with a bowl of milk in my hands for one hr
  • bowl down a bit of paperwork

I guess I won’t experience an orgasm before the end of July as his list is quite a bit long. July will be busy 🙂