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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.


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.

Trust and ball crushing

Trust and ball crushing

I’ve spent this week in a haze of sewing, cooking and ploughing through a mountain of work. If I can keep my sanity for the next couple of months, everything will be okay.

Mr Kitty has also been very busy, so I’ve let him stay unlocked for the last week or so. I don’t mind unlocking him when he’s in a particularly busy period and working to deadlines, because I know that his sex drive dips a little anyway and he knows what happens if he cums without permission. Whenever he’s unlocked and isn’t given explicit permission to wank, he’s required to tell me if he thinks he might do it due to not having enough willpower. That way I can act on it. There has been instances in the past where he has put himself back in the cage, on purpose, without me telling him, because I was uncontactable at the time and he thought it easier to stop himself if he was locked up again. I didn’t think it was much of a deterrent since he had the key those times, but it was the best he could do, and I’m glad he did it. Whether he’s actually locked in a cage or not means very little to me. I like to control his orgasms, not necessarily his access to his cock. Though controlling access to his cock is a nice bonus.

Well, this week he didn’t seem to struggle at all. It was as if he had no urges to masturbate. I could easily make him hard, but he was so good at not trying to cum despite his horniness, that he actually had a wet dream, like he did when he was a teenager! Awh!!! After a couple of days I thought that maybe what was happening was that his sex drive was very low because of how busy he was. It was beginning to bug me that it seemed so effortless to him. Was he controlling himself so well out of love and respect for me, or was it because he simply had a very low sex drive?

So today I made him have sex with me, even though I didn’t particularly feel like it (I had some serious fun with a couple of dildos a few days in a row…). If his performance is any indicator, I think his sex drive is just fine. Regardless, we both know that I can’t trust him to be good for a very long time, busy or not, and there’s no fun in that anyway. I won’t be locking him up just yet because he’s going away on a business trip this week, but as soon as he is back, he’ll also be getting back into his cage. I might even bring it with me when I pick him up at the airport…

Something weird happened after we had sex. We have a habit of lying in bed for ages just chatting or cuddling or giving each other rubs, playing with the cat, etc., instead of doing whatever it is that we’re supposed to be doing at the time. It’s not particularly responsible, especially when he’s working to very tight deadlines, but I think it helps to keep us sane and happy. Well, today I accidentally crushed his balls with one of my feet! I think I was trying to get up from the bed, and I wouldn’t have noticed if it wasn’t for the very loud scream that he let out. It was so loud that I thought I’d caused serious damage, but no, I only stepped on his balls lightly, if unexpectedly. I apologised immediately, but I must admit that there was something about it that made me feel really powerful, even if I hadn’t planned on it at all. I don’t know how to explain it because I’ve never been one to inflict pain for the sake of it, other than in very specific circumstances. But I felt very powerful and high and I don’t know… I really wanted to do it again. Specifically, I wanted to find a man —any man — and crush his balls. I badly wanted it.

As I tried to explain this to Mr Kitty, he crossed his legs very tightly in an attempt to block any access I might have to his balls, and that was that. I think I might have genuinely scared him.

Writing this out has reminded me of how I used to kick boys in the balls for fun when I was little. They never did anything stop me from doing it (these were boys that fancied me, not just random boys) and it made me feel very good, but I wasn’t sure why. It’s also really weird because I can’t stand any sort of human (or animal!) suffering. I don’t know, I guess I do like to inflict pain when it comes to punishing Mr Kitty, and I do have fantasies about cutting him with a very sharp razor and just watch the blood flow. Not that I’d act on that, as I don’t think it would be right to mark his body that way. He scars easily. Still, I don’t consider myself a sadist at all. I’m more of a control freak. But I really, really want to crush someone’s balls.

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”.


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.

Numbing cream, sex and orgasm denial

Numbing cream, sex and orgasm denial

Wine has weird effect on me. After a couple of sips, I start getting this faint physical feeling of arousal. If I continue to drink it, I actually get really horny. The effect tapers off after the first glass or two, probably because after two glasses I start to become tipsy (I know I know, I’m a lightweight). I suspect that this effect is caused by one of my fun guy friends, who used to have sex with me every once in a while until I moved here. Like a good Russian, he liked his drink. And like a good host, he knew that my drink of choice would be wine, so that’s what he served every time. I think I subconsciously associate wine with sex; in particular, very good sex.

Mr Kitty and I have a glass of wine with our dinner most days. I’ve learnt to ignore its arousing effect unless the situation calls for it. Mr Kitty, however, has also learnt to take advantage of it for his own purposes. He will sometimes start caressing me gently as we watch a film or a tv series. At first, I don’t usually notice what’s happening… all I know is that I’m getting a little hornier. The end result is often that he’s forced to pleasure me, but still doesn’t get unlocked.

Last night we had one such situation, except I unlocked him. I really needed cock but I had no need for being filled with cum this time, and I definitely didn’t want my slave to orgasm. Luckily, there’s more than one way to maintain orgasm denial. ;P

Enter the lidocaine cream. For those who don’t know, lidocaine is a commonly used local anaesthetic, generally used topically for relief from pain and itching. Apply it to a penis, and the feeling will vary from slight numbness (as in premature ejaculation treatments), to complete loss of sensation, depending on the strength.

In our case, we used enough 5% lidocaine cream that he could feel his cock very faintly, but not enough to feel any pleasure at all. In his own words: “It feels like I’m using a strap on”. To keep the hard on without the pleasure, he also took some Viagra.

I was very tired so all I needed was a quick fuck and then sleep. And yet, somehow, the sex turned out to be amazing.

I first made him go down on me, to allow the Viagra enough time to kick in. I’ve said it before, but I’m so proud of Mr Kitty’s skills. I made him go on for a while until I was just about to orgasm, and then I made him stop. It was time for a good fuck.

We used a condom in case any of the cream hadn’t absorbed properly, so that it wouldn’t make me numb like him. He didn’t have any way of knowing how deep he was going other than by watching my reaction. Result: very hard, deep fucking. I liked that. Because of the tongue service, my first orgasm happened very quickly, and it was really intense.

I then made him go down on me again… because I could. Again, I got close enough to orgasm but decided to move onto using my fingers, while he sucked on my boobs and caressed me everywhere. I love it when he does that. Then something strange happened, which has been happening more often in recent times. I had this weird, drawn out, extremely intense succession of orgasms, where I thought it was over and then I’d get another one. I don’t even know how many I had. It was unbelievable. I was so wet by the end of it that he might as well have cum in me. My mouth was dry and I was exhausted but perfectly relaxed. My lovely slave brought me water, as he knows to do after great sex.

“Time to get locked up.”

Of course, that was wishful thinking, as I knew that with the Viagra it would take him a long time to shrink enough to get back into his cage. Luckily, the numbing cream would prevent him from trying to wank, and he knows better than to do that anyway.


Prince Albert piercing, mmm

Prince Albert piercing, mmm

In reply to a comment I got today:

How did you convince him to get a PA when his previous SO wasn’t able to do so? More depth around his objections and eventual acceptance would be interesting. Where was it done, what was the experience like, did he complain of the pain or aftercare, how has it changed the fit of the device… These are all questions for which the answers I wouldn’t mind reading on your blog.

I was planning on writing about it at some stage, but today is as good a time as any!


The idea of getting a Prince Albert piercing came to us by accident. About a month into our relationship, I asked Mr Kitty a little more about the two foreskin piercings that he had on either side of his cock. I wanted to know how they worked within chastity, whether it hurt to get them done, how did he feel about them, etc. To him, they weren’t a big deal because they were very small, and the foreskin is so thin that piercing it wasn’t particularly painful. So I asked if he’d ever get “one of those proper piercings, those that go through your cock and hurt loaaads to get!!!” He squirmed, thought about it for a moment, and said no.

At the time, I was an 18 year old girl who had seen several naked guys, but none that were pierced. The idea of putting a sharp piece of metal through the most sensitive part of Mr Kitty’s body was fascinating, but so incredible that I considered it unthinkable. At least as a serious idea…

Regardless, I went ahead and said:

“I bet you’ll get one if I make you do it.”

His facial expression changed to a mixture of surprise, excitement, and a hint of fear. It was the first time that I felt like I had real power over him. Our relationship was still very young, and we were at the very beginning of our journey into chastity. I wasn’t yet sure of what I could achieve through it. His response indicated that he was loving the suggestion that I could order him to do such a seemingly drastic body modification.

Over the next couple of months, I went from joking about it to fully expecting him to do it. The transition was completely seamless, both for me and for him. We didn’t even realise that it had become a serious plan. It wasn’t about chastity device security — we were far too inexperienced to really think about that yet — it was about ownership. He would get a Prince Albert piercing because I made him get a Prince Albert piercing. He’d think of me when the pain pierced his cock, and every time he’d see the piercing thereafter, he would feel owned by me.

One day I told him that I wanted him to book the appointment at a piercing place of his choice. A few days later he sent me a very loving text, explaining how he was about to go into the piercing studio, how nervous he was, how scared of the pain he was, but that it would be worth it if it was what I wanted. I was sitting with my girl friends during lunchtime at school, and of course I had to read it out to them. They were impressed at his resolve, and so was I.

By the end of the day, he had sent me pictures of his very bloody cock right after the procedure, saying that it was nowhere nearly as painful as he thought it would be. It looked horrific!

The piercing was done very professionally, more like a medical procedure. Mr Kitty thought that he might feel self conscious when he got it done, but the piercer’s skill made it obvious that he had done this procedure many, many times before. It was over quickly and now all he needed to do was wait for it to heal.

Aftercare and healing

I’m very fuzzy on the details and timeline of healing, as it’s been a while! If I remember correctly, he was told to not masturbate or have sex for at least two weeks, but that it would take a month or two for the area to be fully healed. He was to keep the area clean and avoid tight clothing. That’s all I remember as far as aftercare.

We went back to having sex as soon as he felt able… and discovered that the pierced area needed ‘tempering’, since the healed tissue was still too recent to have any strength. For the first couple of months, we had to be more careful than usual, and often needed to stop sex earlier because he would start to get little twinges of internal pain. This eventually went away.

At this point I should say that the pain was possibly exacerbated by my over-enthusiasm in sex. I think every girl should try being fucked by an unpierced cock first, and then again by the same cock, post piercing. It was so good. In fact, I raved enough about it that a few of my guy friends ended up getting their own PAs and thanking me for it!

Chastity device security

Once the PA had healed completely, Mr Kitty was back to being locked up most of the time. We decided to get a new cage, which turned into one of our favourites: the Steelworxx Steelheart. With the PA attachment, there was no way he could ever pull out of the device, as I knew he could do with the CB-6000 that he previously used (it was even easier in the shower, due to the soapy water!). The extra security definitely brought a new dimension to our chastity play. Essentially, it felt more real. And knowing that I could convince him to get his most precious bit of his body pierced through with a chunk of metal, just by ordering him to do so, made me very happy.

Getting the Prince Albert had many advantages and no disadvantages at all. It was quicker than expected, the healing process wasn’t too bad, the sex went from good to amazing, and it made me feel like a powerful motherfucker. After all this time, I still think every man should get one. =P

Got bored. Drew a picture.

Got bored. Drew a picture.

This is what happens when I get bored, find a pencil, start a random sketch of an ass, and then realise that I have no eraser.

Considering the lack of references used (and therefore the terrible anatomy) I know I’m going to regret posting it here. But hey, I like ass. I’m an ass person with nothing to lose.

So here goes!




Our plans for the weekend fell through for unforeseeable reasons. Somehow, sewing wasn’t quite as fun as spending time with a very dominant guy and my slave would have been. But it was still alright, just a little too quiet.

The highlight of the day was spanking Mr Kitty. He was being punished for saying that he’d come back in a minute, and then taking too long to come back. My slave has no sense of timekeeping, so I’m improving him with a little discipline. It’s taking a while but he is getting better.

I used my hand to spank him, which I rarely do these days, but I liked the look when I was finished so I just had to take a picture!


I’m considering making him a girly tulle skirt as my next sewing project. He needs new girly clothing for when he’s doing his household chores…



I like being dominant towards my lovely kittyslave, but I find it hard not to be submissive towards everyone else. Does that make Mr Kitty doubly submissive? I don’t know.

What does it make me?


Before I met Mr Kitty, I always assumed I was naturally submissive. Not in a very kinky way, mind you, just… vanilla submissive. I’d been tied up a couple of times. I had my nipples bitten. I asked sexual partners to inflict pain (which they never did well enough because they were too scared of actually hurting me >_>). I felt like there was something missing, but the idea that I could be dominant towards a man was so alien to me that I’d never even tried. I’m a girl, I get to be submissive. I truly believed that.

When we decided to play the chastity game, I felt like the pieces of the puzzle were falling into place. I found my voice. My slave found his purpose. I finally got to call the shots when it came to sex, our relationship, and essentially our private life. It was great! Being able to tell him exactly what I want, knowing that he must do it (or else…), gave me a sense of freedom that I’d never experienced in any of my past relationships. And he was happy with the arrangement. It seemed so perfect.

It was.

It still is.

However, I still need to be submissive in some way. Not towards Mr Kitty, as that doesn’t feel natural. I submit to other men. I haven’t given my slave a blowjob in so long that I can’t remember the last time, much to his protests. I love giving blowjobs and he knows it, but I can’t give them to him. He’s my slave, so I suck other men instead.

There’s something very primal about submitting myself to a man. Begging him to fuck me. Letting him have his way with me, pound me hard, bite me, hit me. I love all of it. I crave it. At any given time I always have a dominant guy or two who will be happy to meet me for a bit of fun. My slave, of course, gets to clean me up afterwards, so that he always knows that his duty is always to worship me. ;P

So there it is. That’s how I manage my dominant and my submissive sides. I’m very lucky to be able to engage in both. I’m even luckier that my slave never expresses a wish to be dominant. We’d have a bit of an issue if he did!

As a closing thought… when it comes to women, it’s a different story. Despite being quite the girly girl, I’ve never been able to be submissive towards a woman. I’m not particularly dominant either. It’s like women break my need to be one or the other, and just make go back to ‘normal’. I’m much more masculine in my actions when I’m with women (I can’t help myself when it comes to grabbing boobies! =P), but there is no power play. It’s a bit odd.

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