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Author: Kitty

Girl crushes and sexy fingers

Girl crushes and sexy fingers

I think I’m a creep. Not the type that has a cock and wears a long coat, hides in the bushes, and waits for innocent schoolgirls to pass by before jumping out and flashing them. I’m more the type that looks at her Facebook wall, sees the picture of a particular girl, and wonders what could have been. We’ll call her Alice, though that’s not her real name.

Alice is breathtakingly beautiful. She could have been a model, but she’s far too intelligent for such a career, and perhaps too pretty and feminine to pull off the boyish sulky looks required of high fashion models these days. If there is a god, he made Alice his golden standard for female beauty. If you think about the most gorgeous woman you’ve ever seen, and then dial up the beauty a few notches, you’ll start to get closer to how she looks. Add aquamarine blue eyes and dark blonde hair, and there you have her. Alice is also engaged, if not already married, and I haven’t seen her in years. I’m not even friends with her beyond what Facebook calls friendship. I don’t know in which country she lives. I don’t think she remembers I exist.

Years ago my then-fuck buddy called me over to his house. I knew he’d have girls over, which meant that this was an invitation for crazy sexy fun. Sadly, I was too tired to accept the invitation so I decided to stay home. I didn’t think things through and now I regret it. One of the girls was Alice, which brings me to why I’m a creep. Every time I see her on Facebook I have a small horny frustrated mental crash where my mind just goes “why… why did you say no”. It’s such a stupid thing. Can you imagine how creepy she would think I am if she knew? As a girl, I’ve been told by many guys that they’ve wanked thinking of me, but I would be somewhere between surprised and disturbed if I found out that some girl out there gets pangs of regret every time she sees my picture on Facebook!

I’m not sure why I’m sharing that here but I feel like I needed to tell someone… even if it’s pretty much the whole world.

See, as a girl who’s into guys, 99% of the prevented sexual experiences in my life are of men who wanted to be with me, not me wanting to be with some girl. For example, this week we’ve had very hot weather for England. I don’t do well in hot weather (I don’t like being exposed to the sun) so I’ve been wearing sun dresses that are more revealing than I would like. I still need to do my masters work regardless of the weather, and at the moment it involves a lot of talking to men in our mechanical workshop at university. My supervisor advised me months ago to not look too pretty while I’m there because it’s such a male environment, but I can’t help wearing lower-cut dresses in the horrible heat! As a result, my boobs have a newfound respect among the technicians in the workshop. My face… not so much. This is more like what I’m used to. It’s open and obvious. I know they’re staring at my boobs. I know they want me just because I’m a girl (I have the right body lumps and that’s enough for them) and that’s how it usually works.

Having typed that out, I’m wondering if my ex’s best friend still keeps that creepy picture of me that he used (without permission) as his desktop background.

Hmmm.

Anyway, the hotter weather has also meant that in the Kitty household everyone is permanently naked. In hot countries a house will usually have AC. In England we don’t (oh, how I miss it), and the high humidity means that anything above 25ºC becomes uncomfortable. So no clothes it is. Mr Kitty’s antibiotics for his skin issues are taking their time to take effect. To avoid making the problem worse, he’s only locked up on and off. This week our life has been as sexually charged as it gets, but not quite fulfilled.

First, I was getting all the orgasms I wanted using my fingers and his tongue, with my body getting more and more pleasure each time, as it does when my period is about a week away, until I finally let him fuck me. Once that happened, my body stopped cooperating, gave me only one orgasm and decided that sex was more tiring than it was worth. Zero orgasms for him of course, but I don’t like only getting one!

Then, I let him use a dildo while in the shower to prepare his ass for some loving. He went too hard and hurt himself slightly and I didn’t get to fuck him. Finally, once he was comfortable again with his ass being messed with, I found out that he’s actually embarrassed of ass play unless he is (and I quote) “locked up, very submissive and cock hungry”. He was ridiculously submissive, but not the other things. One of the times we were lying around and nakedly cuddling on our bed, I started to circle the outside of his asshole with my finger.

Me: “On a scale from 0 to 10, how rapey would it be if I were to finger your ass anyway?”
Him: “Er… 7.”
Me: “Wait, how is it not 10?”
Him: “Because you’re warning me first, and I know you’ll do it anyway.”

For the record, he did consent eventually. I was gentle and loving and only used my fingers. I’m planning on finishing what I started by fucking him when I go to bed in a few minutes. He’s still unlocked (not allowed to wank) and, for once, I will actually stimulate his cock as I penetrate him. Hopefully that will change his mind about only ever doing ass things when he’s locked up “and cock-hungry”. The way I see it, that’s when I get to have full control over my kittyslave.

PS and Lost spoilers:

We’re re-watching Lost at the moment because the first time around, I bailed when it became more ridiculous than usual. I’d forgotten just how sexy Josh Holloway is. Seriously, he’s so hot that I get instantly wet when he’s on screen. Today we saw the episode where Sawyer gets tortured… and I got embarrassingly horny during that scene. Yup, apparently all I want is to tie up Josh Holloway and push sharpened bamboo sticks up his nail beds.

Cageless chastity

Cageless chastity

Communication. That thing therapists insist is the key to a good relationship. One of the benefits of chastity is that it forces good communication, and not always in the ways that might be expected. Lately I’ve been finding different things about which Mr Kitty is embarrassed to talk to me about. While the discolouration of one side of his penis is now gone, he is still having some of the mostly medication-related skin problems that we discovered many months ago. They generally flare up in the form of small pimple-like blemishes, and the closer they are to his bits, the more embarrassed he is about them. I didn’t know this until I asked him to get back into his cage once the discolouration was gone. You know the way sometimes when children are naughty they become embarrassed straight away and won’t admit to their misconduct? Mr Kitty looked like a little boy wincing and blushing as I asked him to get locked up. He didn’t want to do it, but he also didn’t want to tell me why.

Eventually I got it out of him: he had a flareup in an inconvenient place. If he put on the chastity device, the rubbing of the metal against the pimple would cause him pain. This information alone was embarrassing to him. I asked him to show me where it was because I needed proof that there was a real reason for him to stay unlocked. It’s not that I don’t trust him… but I know better than to fully trust a possibly horny guy. He was mortified at the idea of me seeing it (I’m not sure why. It might have been painful but it was barely visible). As cute as he is when he’s embarrassed, I must admit that I felt bad for him.

This incident prompted a conversation about whether we need to use a chastity device at all, at least until some of the issues are fully resolved. I know some people do it this way and it works for them, so why not try it? After all, he has repeatedly shown that he can control his urges to wank when he’s not allowed. The only way he occasionally lets me down is by using toys without my permission, and that’s not something a chastity device can help with, anyhow. Surprisingly, he was completely against the idea of not using a chastity device. He said he couldn’t trust himself to just follow my rules without a physical deterrent. As it is, he can get so horny that he will do anything to get unlocked. It makes him so cooperative and obedient because he knows there is no other way. If his cock was free, he would eventually cave and misbehave. I guess when his skin issues arise, I’ll need to keep embarrassing him by checking when he can be locked up again. It’s his choice, but I’m glad he could be honest with me.

It only took a couple of days for the inconvenient pimple to heal, and I made him get locked up straight away. Well, I tried. In reality he did his routine of pretending to be meek but actually being very defiant. It went something like this:

Me: Get locked up.

Him: Ok. But… what if you want sex?

Me: I can unlock you whenever I want, remember? Or I could find someone else. Get locked up.

Him: Ok. I will. But… I’m really horny. What if I get hornier later? Are you sure you want this?

Me: Yup.

Him: But why? I’ll be good.

Me: Get locked up.

Him: But what if you need cock?? What then??? What If I get really horny??!!!!!!

This circular argument went on for oh, I don’t know, maybe three minutes. To the limit of my patience anyway. I had to spank him to put a stop to it! In the heat of it I forgot to reach for a paddle. It was only afterwards that I realised that my hand was sore. I honestly don’t think I hit him that hard, it’s just that I have tiny weak hands. In any case, he got locked up immediately and became an affectionate ball of human fuzzy docile loveliness. ^_^

His GP is aware of the skin issues and has offered some possible solutions, but they haven’t quite worked. I’m considering getting an alternative cage for when he has inconveniently placed flareups. Possibly a more open cage. We’ll see.

Ow ow ow

Ow ow ow

Shortly after my last post I began to feel queasy. Soon I had chills, then a high fever. Then I fell asleep and the next few days became a blur in which I can only assume I was being looked after by Mr Kitty, who’s been as supportive and lovely as I could ever wish for. I had the flu. The flu is never fun.

I’m almost back to normal now, with a few niggling pains but that’s to be expected. Naturally, Mr Kitty’s birthweek was cut short and our plans didn’t go as I wanted. Doesn’t matter, I’m picking up where I left off. We had two choices and one demand. Mr Kitty’s choice was to have sex with me using his penis, with no penis sleeves, no desensitising creams, just his hard cock going into me… plus a dildo in his ass that I could play with as he fucked me. My demand was that I wanted to see his embarrassed little self as I tried to insert the biggest butt plug he owned into his ass. I got sick on the day that I was supposed to carry out my demand, so that is still outstanding, but yesterday I was able to do his request.

It went just as I expected. A couple of thrusts, lots of ugnnhhgghggghhh noises coming from him, then some moaning, then it was over. My kitty can’t control himself when his prostate is stimulated. He did make the cutest moans, though. And every time I reached the dildo with my hand to pull it out or push it further into his ass, he became bigger and even harder. Obviously I made him finish me off with his tongue despite the insane amounts of cum he somehow produced. I say “somehow” because it looked like a superhuman amount of cum, but I know what caused it: he was locked up all throughout my illness, with no explicit permission to milk himself. After he finished me off and wiped away the globs of cum he’d smeared everywhere, I locked him back up.

That didn’t last long, however, because he began to get a bit of discomfort. Today I decided to unlock him and check what is wrong. The right side of his penis looks a little darker than usual, as if affected by friction burn. He’s been mostly wearing the same chastity device for years now, with very few issues. It seems strange that he’d start having issues with it now. I can’t see how there would be increased friction either, since he’s the exact same size as before and the cage doesn’t give him room to grow. Maybe a temperature issue? Trapped sweat causing problems? Me having a killer man-eating vagina? All I know is that one side of his cock was tender and a slightly darker colour than the other side. I’ll keep an eye on it but I intend to lock him up as soon as we’re sure it’s ok. I need him locked up and submissive so I can play with that big butt plug of his.

Birthday? What birthday?

Birthday? What birthday?

Mr Kitty’s birthday came and went, and so did Father’s Day. I thought Father’s Day would be almost irrelevant to a man with no children, beyond sending a card to his father, but I was wrong. My lovely kittyslave was in a weird mood throughout the day because he wanted to join in the fun. He even said something along the lines of “in 10 years’ time we’ll have seven year-olds who will fuss over me and give me a breakfast fry and…” etc etc. He seems to have a plan, and it seems to involve twins… or triplets! These days, when he’s sinking deeper into chastity mode he becomes a real softie and begins to feel broody (can a man be broody?). It’s cute and it goes away after a while, but I couldn’t help but feel sorry this time. So I’ve instituted the birthweek. It’s not my kitty’s birthday, but his birthweek. That seemed to cheer him up, thankfully.

Apart from the usual gift giving, I’ve been using his birthweek to remind him of how to be good again — all in the name of making him happy, of course. I swear it’s not because he’s amazing at giving me pleasure when he’s happily and squirmingly locked up. I’ve been quite generous: I even gave him a choice of activities for his birthweek. I gave him two choices and one demand.

His choices: either he lets me lovingly fuck his little ass and then we switch and he uses a strap-on on me; or he gets to have proper sex, with his little cock in me and everything, while I use a dildo on him. Alas, my body will be doing the girl thing soon and that’s a hard limit for him, so whichever option he chooses won’t happen till next week.

My demand: there’s this ginormous butt plug in his drawer that he insists he has never been able to fit inside him. I want to be the one who gently guides it in, even if it won’t fit, just to see. To see what? I don’t know. I don’t expect it to go in fully, but when he mentioned this butt plug he seemed so cutely awkward and self-conscious about it, about failing to get it in, and about buying such a massive thing in the first place, that I wanted to take part in this. And that is happening tomorrow. I’ve been preparing him by going up the plug sizes as usual. Watching Better Call Saul is a lot more fun when there’s a man lying across my lap, softly moaning as I lightly play with his plugged ass. ^_^

On Father’s Day I was working and, as I walked away from a table of older people I’d just served, I heard one of the women saying: “awwww bless!”. I don’t know if she thought I was very young or very cute. It made me smile though. This elderly woman thought I was sweet and innocent with my waitress uniform and my customer service smile, while at home I had a plugged and locked up man, cleaning the house and making it ready for when I returned.

I think he is getting back to his submissive slavey self. We had a talk about needs and expectations because he had gotten into the habit of saying he was all submissive and wanting to get back into the swing of things, and then making up excuses in the last minute. I guess that’s what happens when I’m too busy to manage him properly. We will be making a conscious effort to avoid that issue in the future. But for now, I really must find the bigger bottle of lube.

Recovery, chastity and hospitals

Recovery, chastity and hospitals

While I recover from my exams, Mr Kitty is recovering from a hospital procedure. Nothing major, just a quick endoscopy. His recovery is more psychological than physical. First, he went from not being scared of the procedure at all to dreading it (my fault. He seemed so chill that I accidentally mentioned what some of my older friends have said about getting it done). Then he was shaken by the fact that the sedative used in the endoscopy didn’t work, as the hospital used the same stuff that is already part of his usual medication. Not a huge deal, but he said it was very unpleasant. Finally, when I picked him up from the hospital, he was required to go from this:free penis

to this:

locked up penis

That was two days ago. It took a lot of effort on my part to get him back into his cage. Effort that shouldn’t have been necessary. In fairness to him, he did eventually give me a lot of fun when I needed de-stressing towards the end of the exam period, but that doesn’t justify his disobedience in following my orders. I know he was having an internal struggle between wanting to be free, with an accessible cock, and wanting to be controlled by me and submissive to me. He would talk at length about sexy things he’d like to do for me, wanting to offer himself up to me, but as soon as I pointed out that he doesn’t get in that selfless mood unless he’s locked up, he would bring up all sorts of excuses. “I was gonna get locked up after our walk”. “I wanted to shave before putting the device on”. Eventually he admitted: “I’ve run out of excuses”.

At the moment he is wearing his chastity device with an anal plug attachment, which I’ll let him remove when I feel like it. I’m stricter with him than usual. I will continue to be until he goes back to following my orders without needing to defy or struggle against them. He wants to be good, he’s just out of practice. I will give him enough homework to practice.

Getting there, but still frustrated

Getting there, but still frustrated

I wish I could track down the asshole who put my hardest exams on consecutive days, meaning that I’m sleep deprived, undernourished and feeling like death. If I had to summarise the week just gone in one word, that word would be: brutal. I still have an exam to go, but thankfully I have a few days off before it so I have time to actually sit down for something other than studying. Yay…

I’ve been feeling very frustrated. There’s a lot of things I want to do but can’t because something more important is taking up all of my time. I guess it’s human nature to want to be somewhere else, doing something else, whenever precisely that something isn’t available. I’ve been wondering whether this also happens with Mr Kitty and his chastity, and I can’t see why it wouldn’t. He certainly seems hornier when he knows he won’t be unlocked in a long time.

The difference between him and me is that when he’s busy he becomes a man on a mission, with no space in his mind for the tiniest of sexy thoughts. Me, on the other hand… my sex drive goes through the roof. I don’t know how it works, but if I’m busy and/or stressed, my body starts begging for sexual release. My fantasies become more colourful and developed too. I could write a book about some of the latest sexy stories in my mind (if they weren’t so fucked up anyway).

Now here’s the problem: we’re both busy as fuck. I’m a horny mess and he’s a happily locked up little kitten with not a single impure thought in his mind. One of my old fuck buddies is back in town so technically I could have called him over, but nooo, I couldn’t because some bitch in the student office gave me an awful exam timetable and I didn’t have a couple of hours to spare.

I knew I’d be horny and time-poor. That’s why I let Mr Kitty stay unlocked and allowed him to do anything he wanted (minus actually cum). I was hoping he would be able to play with his cock a bit, avoiding any feelings of being forgotten by me, and be available when I’d inevitably call him from our bedroom wanting some quick “servicing” before I sleep. This didn’t quite work. He’s turned off the sexy side of his brain. We figured out that we can use his smart watch to check whether he’s sleep wanked. Nope, no wanking. His response to busy times is so weird that he came to me and said “I hope you don’t mind that I’ve relocked myself. It felt like the right thing to do”. What.the.fuck. Meanwhile I’m a horny mess. It’s supposed to be the other way around!

In fairness to him, he has been very good and supportive, even with his own things going on. Despite my rambling in those previous paragraphs, we’ve kept a semblance of a sex life, mostly in stop-start bursts, and always without him cumming (with one glorious exception. Add one to the year’s tally). It’s just that it gets weird when he decides to stay locked up and I’m the one who is frustrated. Not his fault, but still.

I can’t complain though. Even when he’s not allowed to orgasm, and when he’s not even into the idea of having sex (I swear I’m not forcing him!) he puts so much care into giving me pleasure that I end up thinking it just doesn’t get better. But it does, every time. It’s quite impressive. Yesterday at one of our impromptu lower-my-trousers-and-fuck-me-now episodes, I was (apparently) moaning so loudly during my last orgasm that he thought he was hurting me. Not at all. It just felt that good. No repeats of the blood incident for me!

I have one more exam this week but it’s for a nice enough module. Still, I can’t wait to finish it so I can have my lovely squirmy boy again. That being said, I love that when circumstances aren’t ideal for our fun games, he still alludes to them in our everyday life. He left me this note on the kitchen counter the other day, and despite the terrifying drawing I thought it was cute enough to take a picture. I’ll regret posting it here, I’m sure.

I only joked about it!
In my defence, I only joked about it!

I’m making him stay unlocked until after that last exam. I don’t think it’s fair to force him to be locked up when I can’t even resemble a good keyholder for him. Having said that, I also don’t want him locking himself up without it being my choice, especially when I’m the definition of cock-hungry. I think at this stage it’s reasonable to trust that he won’t orgasm without my permission, and that’s all I’m restricting for this week.

Getting there, getting there…

 

Addendum:

It occurs to me that our way of dealing with stressors might be culturally influenced. His culture is calm and relaxed about life. Mine is a mix of intensities of stereotypical sexy fieriness. I’m not an edgy horny girl: I’m fulfilling my cultural destiny. >_>

That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

Sometimes it doesn’t work

Sometimes it doesn’t work

I’m getting closer to my final exams, which means that my stress levels have gone through the roof. It also means that my horniness has increased exponentially and I’m what you’d call, ahem… insatiable.

The other day I gave in and unlocked Mr Kitty. I needed cock, and I needed it now. He was only too happy to oblige. I couldn’t make up my mind on whether I wanted him to cum, so I didn’t say anything. He assumed he wasn’t allowed and that was fine with me.

We nearly always start with me on my back before moving positions, mainly because it gives him better access to all the fun bits of my body. This time was no exception, though things moved faster than usual and my instinct was to want everything harder and deeper. Yup, epic sex.

I realised something was wrong when I noticed that he was going balls deep from behind while I was on all fours, yet I wasn’t in pain. That rarely happens and, when it does, it’s after a long time of being veeeery careful. Granted, at that stage I had already had a few orgasms so things were bound to be easier, but even then it didn’t make sense in my head that this felt good, despite not having a slow and gentle stage until my body stops thinking that the doggy style position is evil. He was going deep and hard and it felt good.

We went for a long time and eventually had to take a breather. As I lay on my back next to him on our bed, feeling happy and fuzzy and life was good and everything was perfect, I noticed that his cock was still hard. I was very tired by that stage but I wasn’t thinking right. I had an urge to mount it and bounce on it even though I knew I was all orgasmed out. I got on top of him and bounced anyway, until he came too close to having an orgasm and I decided on the spot that he was definitely not allowed. I unmounted him and went back to being happy next to him, still panting.

That’s when I noticed that his cock was covered in blood. Not just a trickle, but full-on omgyou’regonnadie blood. I wasn’t in pain but his PA was causing him a bit of trouble, so we thought he must have got injured. I picked up some tissue from the bathroom to help him wipe the blood off… and that’s when we saw that I was bleeding. I was leaving a trail of blood. I felt no pain or discomfort, but it was so much blood that I wasn’t sure if I should ring the health services’ advice number or go straight to the local hospital. So much blood. Mr Kitty seemed to think I was going to die. And then the blood stopped by itself, before I made my choice about medical services.

I still had no pain, no obvious injuries, absolutely no discomfort.

The next day, Mr Kitty had a sore penis, a slightly angry PA piercing area, and muscular pain everywhere. I was perfectly fine. A little old blood when I wiped, but apart from that it’s like it never happened.

Another day passed and my uncontrollable need for cock was rearing its head again. I somehow convinced Mr Kitty that it would be perfectly fine to let him penetrate me if he did it very slowly, just to check if anywhere inside me was painful. Irresponsible? Yes, extremely. But I couldn’t help myself. So we did that after I practically begged him. It was alright; still no obvious wounds or sore areas, but I tensed up a little when I thought about the way my blood had soaked through the duvet the last time he had fucked me. I decided to abort the operation even though it felt good.

I’m no stranger to sex injuries. I can get a little over excited. But hell, this was horrific. My previous injuries where the type where there’s a lot of pain or discomfort but barely any visible signs. This was just the opposite! So I hereby declare that I won’t be irresponsible again and I will let myself heal properly before trying again. >_>
I am due for a pap smear next month so I’ll be bringing this up just in case.

Being a girl is fun………..

Feeling sexy

Feeling sexy

Disclaimer: despite the title, if you’re hoping for sexy you’ll have to wait till my next post!

I am 25 years old as of last week. Also known as “halfway to 50”, according to Mr Kitty. Backstory: I think that’s payback for when he turned 27, just after we first met, and I insisted that he was now in his late 20s. Halfway to 50 it is. I feel fine. As far as I’m concerned, I’m not ageing but moving towards what I consider to be a woman’s sexiness peak, which often happens in her 30s. That’s where the youthful looks are still mostly there, but the woman is confident enough to carry herself well.

I still look very young. When my coworkers found out it was my birthday, they asked me how old I was and they simply didn’t believe me. They asked me to specify my year of birth, like bouncers sometimes do outside nightclubs to check that you’re not lying. They thought I was about 18, and no more than 20. When I was 18, people guessed 16 by looking at me, and 23 when I started talking. Having opinions makes you sound older, apparently.

Overall, I feel like I’m slowly improving. Maturing like a good wine, as they say. Except I’m even tastier! I’ve always found it easier to build rapport with older people and people in positions of authority, but I remember many an occasion where I would fake confidence in my contributions while freaking out inside. It used to be a lot harder to keep a steady voice and a composed appearance. I used to hope people would listen to me. These days I expect them to listen; no freaking out required. As it turns out, if you’re not boastful and you respectfully treat people as equals (perhaps under the thin veneer of honorific titles), people tend to pay attention to what I have to say.

This is the first time in my life that I have no planned next step. I’ve always known what I would be doing. I know my life goals. I knew how to get where I wanted and was following my perfect plan. But somewhere along the way, I threw out all the next steps and decided to take a different path. The next few years will be a bit of a gamble, and whether we can keep to our discussed timeline for starting a family is anyone’s guess. But you know what? I’m happier this way. Most people I know don’t have a plan, and they don’t care. I wouldn’t want to be like this my whole life (or even a year!) but, right now, it’s actually kind of nice. I’ll worry about it later, when I finish my masters and realise that I should have applied for an engineering job by now…

I’m excited about the future, probably more than I’ve ever been.

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