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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.

Punishment and success

Punishment and success

I’ve been a bad keyholder this week. I had a massive assignment due this week, plus project work, plus studying for my exams, plus work work, and then I got a sore throat and my body decided to do the girly thing. Ugh. I’ve been getting horrific mood swings. I don’t think I’m very fun to be around at the moment, and I really question how Mr Kitty can put up with me. Though sexual frustration and wetness aside, he seems to be happy enough.

Well…

He has been so frustrated and submissive it’s almost painful to watch. Almost, except for when he can’t stop worshipping my body. Ok, it’s actually kinda nice. But I was feeling ever so slightly sorry for him because I’m way too busy to do anything sexy at the moment, so I told him he was allowed to use toys. Now the question is: should we count anal orgasms in his tally for the year? I’m leaning towards letting them go uncounted, since they don’t seem to relieve his sexual frustration anyway. Even after getting one of those, he’s still randomly stopping me to suck on my nipples, kiss my belly or caress my ass. He says those orgasms are nice while they’re happening, but once they’re over, he remembers that he is still locked up without access to his cock. Apparently, that makes anal orgasms evil. Locked-up guy logic.

He asked a few times when he will be unlocked. At first, I let him know that realistically, it will probably be after my exams when I’ll consider letting him go free. He thought an early June release is insanely harsh but he didn’t complain. After a while he brought it up again, and again, and it got very annoying. I ended up having to spank him to help him fall back into good behaviour (he’s not allowed to beg for freedom). I only hit him five times with a paddle, but I hit him quite hard, possibly too hard. His ass turned red straight away. I asked him, on a scale of 0 to 10, how painful the spanks were. He gave them a 10. I asked him again, because I wanted a truthful answer. He changed it to a 5, but only “if 10 is death by spanking”. I guess in real terms it would be about an 8. Such a brief spanking, but such a great effect! He became malleable and compliant, and not at all annoying. We stayed in bed together while I gave him rubs and cuddles and he rubbed his locked up cock on me, in that cute little frustrated way of his. He commented on how he had a stingy ass, an asshole with that “freshly fucked” feeling, and a very attempted hard little cock, leaking precum. Meanwhile, he squirmed and groped me.

For the past few days he has been texting with a man from this area who is also in chastity. I don’t know any details but I wonder how many people in this town have tried chastity. We live in one of those places where everything looks leafy and idyllic in that old classic British way (Hot Fuzz anyone?), but as soon as you delve deeper you start to find that there’s a strong tendency towards kink, more than in other cities in which I’ve lived. It’s a funny place.

My mother really enjoyed her visit. She came with a friend and they mostly did their own thing. In fact, she was a thousand times better than I expected. No bad comments, no suspicious looks. She raved about how lovely Mr Kitty was towards her, how great our town is, how nice and clean we keep our house and even how well behaved our cat is. Yay! I feel like she’s finally forgotten all her weird internalised issues with us. Phew.

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.

Relocking

Relocking

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.

The day he embraced anal play

The day he embraced anal play

We’re officially at that stage of our relationship. No, no one is saying the D word yet (those who watch Last Man On Earth will know what I’m talking about). But he did say “I’m full of pee”.

*cringe*

For all my openness in sex, and my perfect ability to completely ignore societal boundaries, I can’t deal with crude forms of humour involving bodily functions. I could walk down the street naked if I had to, without giving it a second thought (the neighbours across the road would call the police, but I would feel no shame)… but I don’t want to think of other people in certain ways involving certain functions.

I’m not even squeamish.

Mr Kitty is squeamish. He won’t ever admit it, but he is. He will not, for example, have sex if I’m on my period. I won’t force the issue because I’d rather not put him off sex forever, and because I find it quite amusing that he chooses the option of having an anal attachment in his chastity device during my time of the month, over the option of having sex with me. Crazy, huh? He’s lucky I haven’t yet tried to change his mind. One day I might, if I feel like it. There’s a precedent too!

When I first met Mr Kitty, he was terrified of the possibility of ever having to participate in anal play. He considered himself as straight as you can get, and was adamant that anal play would never be something he could ever, ever try, let alone enjoy. I have met several other men with the same issue. Some, like Mr Kitty, eventually changed their minds. Most never attempted it. Obviously, Mr Kitty had an advantage in that he was very open-minded, enough that our chastity game was already in full swing. But he still refused to try it every time I suggested it.

I’m not one to force people outside their comfort zone. I prefer to encourage them once they are ready, and he clearly wasn’t ready. To me, it seemed strange that a person who would try so many other activities would have such an issue with this one. At the time, I didn’t think it was due to any insecurity on his part. Squeamishness, perhaps. Looking back, I think his reluctance was caused by sexual insecurity, just as with many of the men I have met with this issue. He insisted that there was no insecurity on his part, but I honestly think there was.

I wanted to solve the issue. I wanted to be able to do some of the things that I couldn’t do due to his reluctance, so I decided to try to find a good way to convince him. I realised that he felt so negatively towards anal play that any real pressure to just do it would cause even more severe negativity. For all I knew, he might never try again, and I really wanted to avoid that. The method had to be positive and so mind-blowing that he would want to do it again and again. It also had to evoke strong submissive feelings. My aim was to cause a double impact, affecting both the physical and the emotional spheres. The only way to do this was, of course, an anal orgasm.

I didn’t think he would simply use a toy in his ass, just like that, and I definitely didn’t expect him to get an orgasm from it. Instead, I told him that he would be unlocked and allowed to wank… but only with a toy in his ass. If I remember correctly, this was met with a lot of complaining. I tried to make him see that if he were to try some prostate stimulation while wanking, he’d get so much pleasure that he’d wonder why he hadn’t tried it earlier. He was still hesitant. So I reminded him of his bucket list.

Now, the bucket list is a list that I have never seen. I’m not convinced it has ever existed in written form. It was a bunch of sexual things a teenage Mr Kitty thought he’d like to try one day, even though deep down he knew he wouldn’t. All sorts of crazy things are purported to have been on this list. While no evidence of its existence has ever been found, it’s exactly the sort of thing I imagine him writing out. Mr Kitty likes to be adventurous even when sometimes it can make him uncomfortable.

After much persuasion, he decided that he would try it, but only because it was what I wanted. Even when I’m not giving orders he still tries to do what I want! So he took a smallish vibrator and used it in his ass while he masturbated.

I wish I remembered his words after he came, but it’s been a few years and my memory isn’t that great. I do remember that he was amazed at the intensity of the orgasm. So much so that the next few times any prostate massage happened, it was carried out by me. At first I let him masturbate while I did the anal bit. Then I started giving him handjobs. Finally, it was anal toys without any penile masturbation. The squeamishness about it was gone, and so was the insecurity. He knew he could still consider himself straight (hah!) whether he liked his prostate played with or not.

My plan had worked! And very well too! So well, that now he’s looking forward to meeting the other guy again. I’ve decided that he’ll be getting a nice piece of cock inside him soon. I bet he’ll enjoy it.

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