boyfriend in chastity...?

Today he said to me that he was beginning to feel like a boyfriend in chastity, rather than a slave.

I had to agree with him to some extent. Life and the daily routines and busyness of everyday living had often come to over-ride our 'playtime' together, and as a result we were becoming very much a regular couple. He was losing sight of his place and I wasn't exercising my authority. It wasn't a good situation.

As I mulled his words over I became quite cross about it. The last thing he expected was for me to suddenly start dominating him as it would have been in response to his 'request'.

I went to our playroom and looked. An idea had suddenly presented itself in my head. I assessed whether it was feasible to do. I told him to get his collar out, some various lengths of rope, lube, hood, and a hitting implement. He hurriedly did as I asked, following me round, staying close.

I placed him away from me, looking away, and told him to undress and put on his hood as I didn't want to look at him. Then I put his collar round his neck. I slid a short length of rope through the D ring. Knocking the back of his knee, pulling down on his neck, signalling him to lower himself I led him to the end of the wrought iron bed. I tied the rope to the lowest bar on the bed making him crouch down on all fours. Taking his right hand I then tied this to the top of the bed frame, and then his right ankle, again to the top of the bed frame. He became unsteady, balancing on his left side with his head secured close to the floor.

I fetched the hitting implement. A black leather paddle and applied it to the sole of his foot, his toes, buttocks, legs. I commented how he looked like a dog, cocking it's leg, not a boyfriend at all. Just a dog. 
I held the lube bottle and allowed it to drizzle out onto him, and slipped the glass butt plug not quite in. Using my inserted a gloved finger, I pulled his hole up, down, left, right and then the butt plug easily went in.

I asked if he still felt like just my boyfriend? if course, he didn't.

Removing my glove, I then invaded his mouth. Three fingers pushed as far in as I could manage, making him gag, again and again. Holding his nose, choking and gagging him, making him out of breath.

I noticed he was becoming increasingly uncomfortable with the position I had put him in, adjusting himself to compensate strain. I asked, are you struggling? - Yes. I asked, do you think I'll untie you when you are really finding it difficult. He said, yes. He thought I wouldn't push him to manage the difficulty, but I replied. No, I wont.

So he remained there. Exposed. Spread apart. Blind. And I was quite enjoying it.

I noticed his foot stuck out at the end of the bed, held there with rope. I lifted my skirt and placed his toes against my knickers, and rubbed myself against him, looking at him in this bizarre predicament as I did so.

Eventually, I layed myself on the bed, but not before removing my knickers and throwing them on the floor for him to scramble around for, restrained.

An urge...

Sometimes I just have an urge...

I had been inspired by a photo from my prospective new man. 

I had an urge to suck cock... just to have it in my mouth. My mouth full.. completely penetrated..

I had been at work all day in my summer dress and black tights with black patent high heeled shoes.

I called in to see my boy and, laying upstairs on the bed, I asked him to fetch my handbag. He hurried off to do as I asked. I took his keys out of the zip pocket in my bag and threw them over to him. He didn't hesitate in getting cocklet out.
I rubbed my tired aching feet over his face. He held onto my smooth tight covered legs and pulled my feet close over his nose, breathing me in as I layed back and sucked on him...

It was delightful.

Urge satisified, cocklet back in his cage, boy very, very grateful.

Maybe....

I mentioned that my boy had pretty much been fruitless in his search for a man to join us in our cuckolding relationship. It is a big ask... Like with my boy, I'm very particular and only accept the best.

I have now instructed my boy to take the ads down...

I am in communication with a very nice, attractive young man though. It's very, very early days just yet, but you never know. It might just work.

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This evening my boy accompanied me to the gym. I showed him a photo of my new man. I told him how young, fit and attractive his body is... How much I like him, and I made my boy sit and agree with me how nice he looked.

 

cocklet jumped around in his cage... I noticed.

 

I have my fingers crossed.

 

New name for cock..

Since my last post about the man I had noticed on my drive to work, my boy and I have been talking very much more seriously about the prospect of cuckolding. We have discussed it many times before but I had not felt ready to embark on it for real until our relationship was absolutely secure and established.

I did not want my boy feeling threatened by someone else in the sense that he risked losing me. I wanted him to understand that it would only serve to make his devotion and commitment to me even stronger.

My boy offered to search for an appropriate bull for me, and I accepted his offer, though was doubtful he'd find me anyone one who I deemed suitable.

I was pretty much right. The men who saw themselves as 'bull' were, in general, not the type of man that I wanted any association with. Just as when I was looking for my boy, I wanted someone quite unique.
As my boy sifted through the many applicants, we were of course sent photographs, displaying various shapes and sizes.......

Some were huge.

Looking at these, and then seeing my silver cage on poor boy made me see him differently. He was so very much smaller, babyish almost, and so I began referring to him as cocklet.

This is his new name.

cocklet.

Turning a Corner..

On my drive to work I passed a car. A white Merc. I was driving slowly round a corner and the car approached slowly too.

It was being driven by a man. He was maybe in his late 40's, tanned, immaculately groomed. He wore a crisp, white shirt which was brilliant against his tanned skin. He had grey flecks in his hair. Sophisticated. Intelligent. Well off. Successful.

I imagined somehow, that I got to meet this man. Allowing him to take me out. Getting to know him. He is who I would allow my boy to share me with. One day, my boy will have to share me.

Cock is spending increasing amounts of time locked away. He doesn't even get to come out and point very often now.

It may take years to find a suitable man, just as it took years to find my perfect slave. But I see this is the direction we are heading in.

shed.........

Training Shed.

Although my boy came to me fully committed to and in need of chastity and servitude, he was coming to me from a very normal life. From the outside, we both hold regular jobs and would appear to anyone else to be quite normal folk.

With this in mind, the contrast of being thrown into enforced, longterm, unrelenting chastity has had it's little glitches. That is only to be expected. From one extreme to another. From overuse of his sexual freedom to having it completely taken away from him.

And I have high standards. I expect not just chastity, but a chastity slave. I expect him to serve and to be devoted to me.
There have been times when he has retaliated against this. When he has thought I have been wrong or unfair.

What he has yet to learn, that unfair or wrong, it doesn't matter. He does as I say. I expect nothing less. Often that is very unfair. 

He criticises me for never admitting fault, but if I did, if I believed there are times when I am not the strongest link in our chain, then I would not be me. I would not be who I am. I would not be able to dominate and rule him in the way I do if I was weak willed or didn't have absolute belief in myself.

So coming to me from his position of authority at work, of being a leader, a manager, someone in control, it has had it's challenges to truly submit to me.

But I help him by not shifting my stance when he fights against me. I help him by being strong and showing him this is the way it is going to be. He does sulk at times. But I just wait. I am very patient, and I know that eventually he will come round to admitting I am right, even when I am wrong in his eyes.

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While we were exploring his new garden the other week, I investigated a little shed. It was full of cobwebs and clutter and rubbish. But I thought how perfect it would be for my boy. A little house for him. A special place for when he forgets who is in charge. A training house. A cold, uncomfortable place where he could spend time on quiet reflection.

I gave him instruction to clean it out and told him my plan for the little house.

That afternoon he set to work and cleaned his place. He scrubbed the cold brick floor and swilled it out.

It's now very lovely. 

It will serve him well.