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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………..

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.

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?

Wrong.

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.

Yes, we have an unconventional relationship

Yes, we have an unconventional relationship

Some time last year I decided to go back to college and finally get my masters. It seemed like a great idea. I love engineering, I knew I could get into a decent university very easily with my degree and professional experience, and I’d have a great time being a student again. I look younger than I am and wouldn’t have any problems socialising with my younger classmates. It would be fun!

I was right on most of those counts, except I’d forgotten just how much work an engineering degree actually takes. More than that: I feel like I should have appreciated my good, steady salary better before I gave it up for a life of busy weekdays and busy weekends. I’m in love with the project I will be doing (seriously, it really is awesome). Since I had most of my modules this term, I’m currently a little overwhelmed by the coursework, but next term I’ll barely have any contact hours and will therefore be focusing on my incredibly, wonderfully, unbelievably amazing project. Argh, I can’t wait!

Bear with me; I swear I have a point here.

Where was I? Oh, steady salary. I gave up a good salary to do the masters, but I didn’t want to rely on Mr Kitty for everything because that wouldn’t be fair, so I took a waitressing job at a local hotel. The work is as hard as expected but it’s oddly liberating to know that even if you mess up, the worst that can happen is that a customer might be slightly unhappy for a day or so. I’m more used to knowing that if I mess up I might cause someone’s death. No real-life consequences is definitely a plus.

I found a bigger plus: young, unattached, Eastern European men.

Before we moved here, I had a crazy Russian friend who was up for everything in bed. He was my best fuck ever, and it would be hard to top him. He was so into it that I couldn’t help but keep coming back for more. The only times I didn’t meet him for casual sex were when he was in a vanilla relationship. When we moved here he moved back to Russia, removing any chance I could have had of meeting him for fun times together again. I really missed those meet-ups, but have been unable to meet someone as up for it as him.

Until now, I hope.

I’ve been open about my unconventional relationship with people at my current work. I didn’t mention chastity, but they know that we have some sort of open thing going on. As usual, no one really cares all that much and it hasn’t been mentioned again after the typical questions. That is, no one except for one guy.

This guy was flirty with me from the beginning, until he realised that the ring on my finger is an engagement ring. He immediately stopped flirting after that, which is a shame because I love flirting. After he found out that I was allowed and even encouraged by Mr Kitty to meet other people, he was interested again but still seemed a little reluctant to do anything. In the past, I found that many guys will happily have sex with me as long as Mr Kitty isn’t around. They’re scared that he will beat them up or something for having sex with his girlfriend. To me, that can only mean two things: 1) they clearly don’t believe me when I say it’s allowed, and 2) they have no issues with helping me “cheat” as long as they don’t get into trouble. That’s fine for a one-night stand, but not for a fuck buddy.

When I asked my coworker if he was scared of getting into trouble, he said something along the lines of “no, you said he likes it!” Good answer.

His shift pattern has changed so I never see him in work anymore. I gave him my phone number on Facebook (as per his request) and he said he would ring me so I’d have his number. He rang one day and we had a brief chat. In that phone call, I said my usual “we should meet up some time”. His answer was: “As friends or for a quick fuck?”

And that’s why I like Eastern European men. No beating around the bush. I think I’ll keep this one, thanks.

I’ll only be available for anything after Christmas, and there’s a chance that he might go back to his native Romania before I can actually meet him. I really, really hope he stays. If he’s a decent fuck I might have found my new fun crazy friend.


Meanwhile, Mr Kitty is still awaiting his final orgasm of the year. I can’t decide whether it should be reserved for Christmas Eve/Day, well before Christmas so that he can squirm and suffer his full-blown horniness for the remainder of the year, or just before the end of the year so he has the longest possible wait until he gets to cum. Decisions, decisions…

Halloween fun

Halloween fun

I never celebrated halloween when I was growing up. Where I lived, Halloween was an American thing that we saw on TV and films. There was something called All Saints’ Day or something like that, which seemed to be about eating a lot of baked goods, for the most part. At least that’s what it looked like from the outside. Since we weren’t Catholics, we didn’t celebrate that either.

And then we moved to a different country.

In that country, Halloween was a big thing. Bonfires were lit and fireworks were everywhere. That’s despite the fact that fireworks were illegal! Children would call to every house asking for sweets. But at that stage I was too old to care, so either I went to a Halloween party or I just didn’t do much at all.

In that country I met Mr Kitty.

And then we moved to a different country.

Where I am now, Halloween is celebrated in most places but not to the same extent as in the previous country. It is a thing, and children do call door to door… but not in my area. We live in a small town with a fairly aged population. I heard three fireworks the night before Halloween, and that was it. The parties to which I was invited happened during the week, so by the 31st, Mr Kitty and I were home and getting through our list of halloweeny films.

 

What I lack in Halloween traditions, Mr Kitty more than makes up for. Not in the traditional sense either. He’s not big into dressing up, and he’s never even mentioned what he did as a kid during this time of year (I never thought to ask!). But anyone who knows the birthdays of his family members realises that October is his family’s mating season. So our new tradition for Halloween is fucking like rabbits.

Oh wait, he can’t.

Some time ago I decided to allow him 5 orgasms until the end of the year. I was told I was generous, and I would tend to agree, but I thought it was a nice enough number. Bearing that in mind, and considering how horny I was too, I unlocked him over the Halloween weekend. He now has two remaining orgasms to last him till the end of the year. Of course, I wouldn’t say cumming twice into his girlfriend counts as “fucking like rabbits”; he had to make up for his limitation by using his tongue instead.


On Monday night he went away on business and I let him stay unlocked. He got back a few hours ago. It’s always great when he’s back! (That probably makes me sound like the neediest girl ever. I probably am.) Anyway, we did a lot of cuddling and he said he was all happy and fuzzy.

Yeah right, fuzzy. Is that what they’re calling it these days?

cock_silhouette

Needless to say, the chastity device is back on, where it belongs.

Orgasm control and the endless sex session

Orgasm control and the endless sex session

Kittyslave orgasms: 1

4 to go.

Yes, I’ve been feeling really fuzzy and horny and everything else lately, which has resulted in a ridiculous amount of sex. I blame it on Mr Kitty’s parents’ absence. I’m also not used to being around Mr Kitty for that many hours, so maybe that had an effect too! He’s been trying his best to sync his sleep pattern with mine while I’m enjoying these glorious days of not doing anything remotely productive, and even though it still feels a little weird, it’s actually quite nice to have some proper free time together. Which, of course, makes me horny and leads to sex. *cough* I mean, love-making…

But…

In all this time he’s been allowed to cum only once. I’m amazed at his ability to hold back these days! It used to not be like that. He never came prematurely or anything, but I couldn’t realistically expect him to go on for a long time without losing quality, getting soft, or finishing. We’ve tried to come up with a reason for him to have improved so much, and the only thing we can think of is the regular edging. I noticed that the time that he came, he continued on with sex without any visible discomfort, and without losing the hard-on at all. I don’t know how I never noticed before. The other times, when he wasn’t allowed to orgasm, we had sex until I was completely sexed out. He definitely enjoyed it, but without struggling against a need to orgasm.

A quick Google search for “edging and premature ejaculation” shows that, apparently, edging to combat premature ejaculation is actually a thing. It makes sense, but I never really thought about it. I guess I also never noticed Mr Kitty’s ability to continue fucking me after he cums because I rarely let him get there, and if I do, my goal is specifically being filled with cum, not so much getting several orgasms.

I unlocked him each time, putting him back in the cage, so his cock was all safe where it belongs. Well, except for a little injury, anyway. Mr Kitty managed to hurt himself with his PA in such a way that the only symptom appeared when he put the chastity device back on. The symptom? A sensation of being in the middle of peeing. He found it disconcerting because he had to keep checking that he was, in fact, still dry. Thinking back, the cause was one slightly-too-forceful thrust with a badly positioned piercing. The solution was avoiding the PA attachment of the chastity device for a day. It’s amazing how quickly a penile injury can heal.

Looking fuckable.
Looking fuckable.

All’s well that ends well.

 

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.

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