Thoughts and fantasies of a submissive

 I am feeling low at the moment, ill when I should be round with Miss enjoying various planned birthday treats. These have been postponed to a lengthy session next Friday.  Throughout a frustrating week, with cancellations for other social events too, one of the most frustrating things has been my lack of frustration. Today marks 3 weeks since last I was emptied, but with my illness my libido has been as suppressed as my social life. But it has been coming back slowly, and with it thoughts of happier times with Miss. Happier times next week when it will have been 4 weeks and by when I'll probably be climbing the walls again with a raging libido.  So ahead of that time, from the embers, a thought for a happier time. Miss makes me take the cushion from the spare chair in the lounge. It's red and broad and helpful to aging knees like mine. i place it before Miss's preferred seat on the main sofa. I place a towel over it to protect it from any accidents and then kneel before ...

I've been thinking about therapy, as I am want to do heading into my third week of denial, and the ideas i have for more treatments.  One came to the other day, when I was not coming as it were. Miss likes to end her treatments with a very vigorous climax for me, what I think of as a crushing orgasm, having my libido crushed. Often for days to be fair. Sadly, this is not always a possible outcome and Miss must refrain, due to other things in my life.  But I thought she might like an idea I had which never impacts my ability to retain my libido after.  My thought was that after a session of therapy has ended, then Miss could continue to stimulate me, with just a thumb or finger on the underside of the head. This will keep me close and with minimal effort get me to the edge. Then Miss can just continue until i start to go over and take away her finger when she feels me climaxing, so i just dribble out a sad little ruined orgasm. Without stroking it out, this will leave me s...

 I had some quality therapy last week. Miss was in complete control, a perfect hour of knoblet teasing and abuse. There was no danger of me getting hysterical and losing control, for Miss had a complete grip of the situation. I had to go out that evening, so i knew in advance how long it was going to be, but it is amazing how long an hour can feel. Also with that level of control means that she could easily keep me going for another hour. Which she has done before.  Which is terrifying.  I am afraid of the power she wields over me, to be a panting moaning wreck, knoblet rubbed and polished until it feels actually sore.  We listen to music when she is applying therapy, her choice of techno and trance. She chooses to cultivate my appreciation for her choices. Association with pleasure stimuli is effective - i look forward to the next session of therapy and the thumpy music she prefers. One day I will love it as much as she does, maybe more so.  But I worry that th...

 ...and Miss complained every step of the way. I took Miss out on a day trip to somewhere nice but underrated on her trainline the other day, and it was probably the last day of seriously good weather we'll have this Summer. Which is why poor Miss didn't cope too well, sunshine is one of her nemeses (like stairs :)). It was also a great chance to explore a town which used to be an old stomping ground for Kentish Miss and me, though we tended to just rv at the hotel and spend a few hours letting her practise her mummification skills and it's hard to get in any sightseeing when you are hooded and mummified and panting like the proverbial on heat.  But we had a good time Miss and I, in spite of the complaining and the broken bottom issues, and found a good restaurant for lunch which i'd happily return to. Thanks Miss for picking up lunch btw, very naughty of you as you had nothing to apologise for. Except maybe making such a half assed attempt to finish your main before st...

While there may be 4 seasons technically, for my kinky life there are just two.  The first coincides with Spring and Summer, when i play sport and must be in my natural state, hairy and "masculine". For these times I serve naked and collared, in my red service collar belled to provide a melodious background to my movements.  This is the perfect season for my straitjacket, which I have been lucky enough to get more wear out of this year. Miss likes it as it covers my hairy chest, and I like because it is flattering and keeps me comfortable, but wonderfully bound. One day I will hopefully be kept in it for longer than just the odd afternoon.  Hopefully I'll have a pic or two of me in it for my therapy sessions soon. In my soft black hood too.  But Miss prefers the other season, the season of the sissy slut.  The season starts when I have my first shave, and consists mainly of me in stockings, a lovely 6 strap suspender belt and full figure, black control panties. ...

I had a fabulous day again with Miss last week, our usual mix of pleasantnesses, a fine breakfast, good company, some snoozing, some wabbit assaults and some time on the sofa with a straitjacket and some coconut oil. Happy times. And on that alone, thank you Miss may I please have another... On the sofa and when in Miss' embrace upstairs she would occasionally be rougher with me, to which I would say pretty please, pretty please more please. When she was roughly tweaking my nipples or slapping the knoblet from side to side it inflamed me as it always does, the pain its usual accelerant. But I got to thinking, as one does when a sweet woman is pumping and polishing one, how Miss could make me beg for abuse. Not just abuse I crave, to have my knoblet slapped about and my balls squeezed in her fist but for things that are just a little too much for me. Like some firm patting spanks on my balls. Or little flicks on them. Or a steady stream of splats with a ruler to the head of the knob...