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Month: April 2016

I don’t understand guy bits

I don’t understand guy bits

As I write this, two things are happening:

  1. It’s late and I can’t sleep.
  2. I’m full of cum.

I actually had half of a blog post written for another day, but I’m going with this instead.

I don’t understand men, and I really don’t understand their bits.
I mean, I got very good sex ed. I know the biology stuff. I’m supposed to be an adult and a fairly open-minded one at that (I hope, anyway!) so I know that men don’t always cum, and if they do, it’s not always when they want it to happen. I definitely know it isn’t my fault, even if I can usually make a man cum earlier if I want to.

I wanted Mr Kitty’s cum in me yesterday. I hinted as openly as I possibly could that he should be ready for sex, but it went over his head. Amongst other things, I asked him to get into bed with me “for cuddles”, which he took to mean that there was no way he would get unlocked, and that he would definitely be fucked in the ass. No, no, no! All I wanted was some lovely old-fashioned lovemaking… or rather, to be filled with cum by the cock most readily available for this purpose. I was horny, but also uber fuzzy.

Anyway, I made him get into bed with me, where I told him to go down on me. He was still locked up at this point and he did a great job. Orgasm one. Then I unlocked him and we fucked. Orgasm two. Finally, I used my fingers while he played with my boobs. Orgasm three.

I could’ve sworn that he had cum in me. I was as drippy as I usually am afterwards, he was as sweaty and tired as usual. His movements were the same as when he’s finished. But I was wrong. He stopped fucking me because he was trying to give me a second vaginal orgasm and that tired him out. I was actually quite close to a second one… but I didn’t get there because his thrusting became too fast and deep! So he tired himself out doing the opposite of what he hoped to achieve. Oh well. No big deal. I can hardly complain when I got three orgasms and he got none.

Today we both seemed hopeful for rectification. He knew he would get locked up again today, so I guess he didn’t want to miss his chance. I wasn’t sure if he would be able to finish this time either because he had major precum all day, mostly from being teased by me and thinking about being back in the cage. He was fantasising about being in a belted device with an integrated butt plug, and the idea was making him nonstop horny and wet. When he is wet for long periods, sometimes it affects the pressure of ejaculation, and sometimes he just doesn’t cum at all. Sort of like when he milks himself incompletely so that he can still get hard but not quite cum. I thought he wouldn’t finish this time either.

Well, he did. About 2 minutes into sex, he did. I’ve never had sexual complaints before but my god, if this experience is anything to go by, I’m not a woman built to deal with premature ejaculation. Thankfully we don’t have that problem, but I’m not used to him finishing before I’m satisfied. It’s just never been a thing. His explanation? “I thought you were disappointed last night about the lack of cum, so I made sure to get there before I tired myself out.”

I must admit that I appreciate the sentiment… But I feel like I preferred the alternative. I must be a really selfish lover! The occasional lack of my own orgasm doesn’t bother me in the least, because the stuff that comes before it is almost as nice. But not getting an orgasm and not getting enough enjoyment time, that’s not for me. I’m definitely selfish. Thankfully I’ve got him well trained and he did finish me with his fingers instead. 😉

So now I’m fuzzy and happy and relaxed. For some reason I’m finding it hard to sleep, but that’s ok. I’ll get there in the end.

Oh, and by the way, he’s locked up now. He’s only had two orgasms so far this year. I’m liking this trend.

Knowledge and power

Knowledge and power

I think everyone can admit to having wondered what goes on behind their neighbours’ closed doors. I know I have, all the time. It’s not so much that I’m nosy, but that humans are such an interesting species, with such a wide range of quirks, hobbies, responsibilities and everything else, that I can’t help but wonder what’s out there, and where.

Our energy company has been trying to fix some problems with their network over the last few days, leading to intermittent power cuts. The first time it happened, we immediately took to the window to see if it was just us. It wasn’t: everyone else was also in the dark. Heh, at least I know we have something in common with our neighbours.

I think the network issue has been fixed, as no cuts have happened today. That’s great news for us. We can get our work done again and Netflix is back! I like to have something on in the background as I work because I find the black expanse of our tv too intimidating. Call me weird, but that’s what growing up with scary movies does to you. So today I had Alfred Hitchcock’s Rear Window as my background movie. I’m sure I don’t need to explain the plot here, and no, I don’t think my neighbours have murdered anyone. I did, however, decide to finally take a parcel to the slightly creepy building across the road from us. It was delivered to us because the recipient wasn’t home when Royal Mail called. I probably shouldn’t say it’s creepy. I didn’t think it was until I was climbing up the excessively steep stairs to their front door. It looks like an apartment building, but instead of being divided into flats, it’s just the one family home.

When I got to the front door at the top of the stone stairs I noticed a few parcels hidden away in the shrubs. Unkempt front garden and no doorbell. The front door had a plain glass pane and no blinds to conceal the interior of the building. I could see right through the ground floor, all the way to an also unkempt back garden. In the hallway, there was a baby stair gate, a couple of empty bottles of whiskey and too many letters and parcels to count. The strange thing is that they were neatly placed on the second step of the stairs, so someone had been there to do it (unless the postman has a key to the house).

It made me think about how little we know about our neighbours, and how little they must know about us. They know where we’re from due to the unescapable accent. They must have an idea of what our schedules are like. They know our cat is a murderess. If our next-door neighbours keep an eye out (and I know they do) and if they can hear well, chances are they also know that we’re not the most vanilla of couples.

What are the chances that they’ve heard about male chastity? I might be wrong, but I don’t think they are too small. Could they practise it themselves? Probably not. I quickly added up who knows about our chastity game: my closest girlfriends from school, some of my university friends from my undergrad, a couple of good friends from my previous job. On Mr Kitty’s side, no one. More people know about the allowed openness to the relationship, including some of Mr Kitty’s friends, but some don’t realise that I decide our limits. None of my childhood friends know anything kinky about us. As far as they can see, we’re just a couple with a very strong relationship. Neither does our family, long may it stay that way!

My mother is coming to visit us, for the first time ever, next week. We couldn’t be more nervous. I’ve been hiding our sex toys but also making plans for the deepest spring clean we can achieve with our limited time. My mother has a sixth sense for detecting the slightest of oddities and blowing them out of proportion. I have visions of her stepping into our house and instantly conjuring up mental images of drug-fuelled sexual depravity. Worst of all, she will never tell me whatever she imagines. It might be innocuous. It might be nothing. It might be a display worthy of inclusion on the Marquis de Sade’s toilet paper. And I will never know what image I’ll be forever fighting against.

I’m a control freak and I don’t like unknown enemies.

I should be happy to see my mother. I am happy, sort of. I just don’t like having my fortress breached by a force bigger than my own. Is there such a thing as mummy issues? If so, I should probably look into it.


I’m definitely developing a bit of an obsession with Mr Kitty’s little ass. I’ve always given him love gropes, but I find myself fingering him a lot more often these days. I still haven’t fucked him yet, at least not with the strap on, just with dildos I’ve held with my hands. He makes the cutest of moans and they make me melt. He’s also been docile like a kitten, and has even grown his beard longer than usual because stroking it relaxes me. With his stress relieving ways, my Mr Kitty is probably the best study aid I’ve ever had.

Submissiveness overload

Submissiveness overload

The submissiveness is hitting him hard.

I have a habit of giving him back rubs once or twice a day, as it helps him when his condition is acting up. I like to do this on our bed, where he can place his head on the edge of the bed and lie on his belly. I then sit on his ass and give him the massage. You’d think there’s not much scope for variation in this routine, right?


Yesterday it took me a few moments to go upstairs for his back rubs. I knew he was already laying on the bed but I had to finish what I was doing before I could go up. It was no longer than five minutes. When I finally got to our bedroom, I found a very unexpected scene.

While waiting for me, he felt so submissive that he began to play around with some of the bondage gear I make him keep on his bedside locker, including a wrist and ankle spreader. I walked into the room to find him helplessly bound in the device, ass in the air. He’d somehow managed to put it on but couldn’t take it off, leaving him in a very precarious position for me to have fun with.

Artist impression of restrained Mr Kitty.
Slightly tipsy artist’s impression of restrained Mr Kitty.

I took advantage of the situation by fingering him a little before freeing him to give him rubs. I like making him feel vulnerable, like I could strike at any moment. He should always be aware that I have full access to his body and he can do nothing to prevent it. The massage sessions we have together are the best for that because since I’m sitting on him, I can play with his little asshole and there’s not much he can do about it. I can also spank him if he says or does something I don’t like. It’s good preparation for when I’ll be fucking him again.

The result of all this is that he’s brimming with horny submissiveness. He can’t keep his hands off me and even seeing me stretching lazily will send him into his horny self-torture. The other day I caught him absent-mindedly playing with one of his nipples and his ass while we had a conversation. He didn’t notice what he was doing until I pointed it out. He was so attempted hard.

I think he might be going crazy…

Did I mention that he’s only had one orgasm this year? I almost feel tempted to keep it that way until the end of the year! But I’m such a cum whore that to do so, I’d need to find a bull whom I could trust enough to let him cum in me, and that’s not happening any time soon. The last guy I had who was allowed to cum into me now lives in a different part of the country. I had a dream about him recently and I was considering contacting him to see if he’ll be near here at some stage, but I don’t know if it’s worth getting my hopes up. I do know that he will be moving back here next year. Assuming we still live in this town next year, and that my friend doesn’t get into a serious relationship, I might get my old cum-enabled fuck buddy back.

Maybe 2017 will be the year when Mr Kitty gets fewer than 5 orgasms in the whole year.



The relocking process didn’t quite go to plan. Well, technically it did, but I didn’t let him fuck me in the end. I simply didn’t feel like it. When he got locked up before starting his working “day” (which started in the evening, as usual), I decided to kickstart his submissive horniness by sending him a link to a very hot blowjob porn video.

By his first break from work he was bent over his desk, my hands fondling his ass, and him begging me to do anything (anything!) to him if it meant that he’d be unlocked soon. I agreed to unlocking him “soon” if I get to fuck him hard with my strap on. It’s funny, we’ve known each other so long, and yet he was surprised that I was getting horny at the idea of making him moan like a girl with my big black dildo. We did have a problem though: he hasn’t had any toys in his ass for a few weeks, and he feels like he needs to work himself up to it!

I’d like to think I’m a good girlfriend to him, so I’ve given him a few days to work through the butt plugs he feels he’ll need until he gets to a reasonable size for my dildo. I haven’t yet told him that he’ll be tied up and gagged, or that I’ll be using the biggest dildo we have. I also haven’t defined what “soon” means in the context of unlocking him! He knows he doesn’t get to decide, even if he is begging for anything in lieu of being locked up, so he hasn’t tried to make me give him a concrete date for his freedom. I have such a considerate kittyslave! In return, I haven’t given him a hard deadline for when his little ass should be prepared for my fun, but he has already started his preparation. Acceptance is a wonderful thing.

In the end, instead of having sex I let him suck on my nipples while I used my fingers and he caressed me everywhere. It’s one of my favourite forms of masturbation. It’s also my main method when he is locked up. By the end of it, he’s so attempted hard that it almost looks like his cock could break the chastity device! I love it.

Fun times.

Google Play

Google Play


It’s been a lovely day here and it looks like spring has well and truly arrived. My exams are in a couple of months. Mr Kitty’s important work deadlines are happening this month, which means that all I want to do is make his days as pleasant and stress-free as possible.

We’ve decided that for the time being, we will make an effort to keep chastity as separate from his business work as might be achievable, considering that he works from home. As he chases up businesses and partners for payments and contracts, he must project an image that isn’t very compatible with his cute submissive self. In practical terms, all this really means is that I must be mindful of when he’s working and when he’s free (not as easy as it seems! He tends to walk around the house thinking about work…). Obviously I’m also busy with my masters project and studying for exams, but I’m the kind of girl who will masturbate as a break from study.

I’ve left him unlocked for the last few weeks and the only conclusion I’ve found is that whatever I’ve done to his thoughts and feelings, whatever submission I’ve pushed him into, it’s now irreversible. Case in point: he hasn’t wanked a single time, nor has he felt any desire to. I was getting worried about that (what if I’ve broken him? What if he’s very depressed?) until he showed me that he gets horny only if I cause it. If I touch him, if we watch porn together, if I say sexy things to him or if he thinks about what I might force him to do with other people, he gets horny. By himself, he doesn’t get horny, at least not beyond the usual morning boner, if that counts as horniness.

I suppose I should clarify…
We know for a fact that he hasn’t wanked while he was awake and aware. Whether he has wanked during his Google Play state is anyone’s guess. And here we go! Time for me to explain Google Play…

Google Play: the time when Mr Kitty is still asleep, but looks like he’s awake. The name comes from an occasion when he was in bed pretending to be awake. I tried to have a conversation with him, and I had to ask him something (I forget what it was, but it was important). His reply was “Google Play”. My attempts at clarification just pushed him into this very articulated, well developed explanation about how Google Play works, and how I needed Google Play to solve the problem, and even the steps I needed to take to find a solution. Like a spoken tutorial, but completely irrelevant to the conversation! And most likely not even possible outside of his dream world.

His Google Play state is so strange that one time we had (extremely bad) sex while he was in it. He seemed fully awake. He has no memory of it.

So yeah, we know he hasn’t wanked while he was awake and aware. There is no telling what he might have done while he was asleep, although we’ve found no icky sticky tissues/socks/corners of the bedsheets, and one time he had a proper wet dream.

We haven’t been able to do much sexy stuff for a whole bunch of reasons. Now that everything is settling back to normal on most fronts, I really want to have him locked up again. I’ll let him fuck me once before he gets back into the cage. It’s only fair, right?

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