A Pizza Topping You Can’t Order

Mat was feeling slutty. He had been feeling that way for a while and his need was boiling over in him. I should probably point out that I had (originally) no intention of letting him cum that day and he knew it.

Lunch was leftover pizza from the night before. Well brunch really. Actually I mean, despite the lateness of the hour, it was actually breakfast – but pizza for breakfast is good, right?

I’d heated it up in the oven and was offering Mat some but he was initially reluctant. Then he suggested (frivolously) he could spunk on a slice of seafood pizza and then eat it.

Oh, so much, yes.

I gave him a plate with the one remaining slice of seafood pizza (tuna, onion, prawns and double anchovies) and sat back with my own plate of pizza to watch the show.

Mat was feeling slutty. He was naked, wanking his cock and telling me his filthy fantasies. Expressing a desire to suck cock, to be spunked on and to have his virgin cunt raped by an enormous cock.

That fantasy wasn’t enough for him alone, he needed more. He requested permission to use a toy and I granted it. He fetched my big blue dildo and proceeded to fuck himself on it eagerly.

I watched, I ate pizza, I tweaked his nipples and slapped his balls and told him what a filthy slut he was. I enjoyed the show.

He came, like a good boy, on his slice of pizza and then, like a good boy, he ate it up. Grimacing in the aftermath, a pizza almost too salty even for my anchovy loving Boy.

A pizza with a topping you can’t order.

My Own Private Gay Porn Show

Mat wanted cock; more than that, he needed it. It had become a hunger and he needed filling in every sense.

I approved his search for a man, someone who would let him suck his cock and, important to us both, would let me watch. I was surprised how quickly he found somebody, how quickly we managed to arrange a meeting.

We were nervous and approached cautiously. We were looking for someone who was looking for us. Our paths crossed with a man and we walked on.

“If that’s him”, Mat checked with me, “do you want to go through with this”.
“Yes”, I was suddenly more confident, “I do”.

We wheeled round and this time we all greeted each other. Nervously, hesitantly we made our way inside. The location was as described. Comfy chairs gave me somewhere to sit and watch. We kept the lights low but I could see perfectly well.

Mat kneeled in front of the man and began stroking him through his jeans. He looked sideways at me, putting on a show.

Still as I watched he forgot himself as the man in front of him instructed Mat in how to pleasure him, controlled him, fucked his face, used him.
I watched. I told Mat he was a Good Boy, I held his head and stroked his back and then sat back to watch some more. This was sexy and good.

This man knew how to use him, how to speak to him. I felt a tingle of electricity as I watched and listened.
“Some men are destined to suck other men’s cocks, don’t you think?”, he remarked to me.
Watching Mat with his mouth full, eagerly pleasuring him I felt inclined to agree.

When his kind benefactor gave him a face full of spunk I ran my fingers across Mat’s face, feeding it to him, watching him swallow it down eagerly.

This done we all sat back to relax, to chat and to agree that we might indeed like to do that again someday…soon.

 

The Twelve Days of Christmas (My Version)

On the first day of Christmas my true love gave to me…

With a Domme (and a sub) who loves numbers, Christmas and various versions of that song how else could we celebrate Christmas but with a little game.

And so, on Christmas Day there was one stroke from the black cane for my submissive.

The next day my Boy was again ordered to lie down on the bed and present his bottom for two strokes from the butter hand (ridged side down) and, of course, one from the thin black cane.

I’ll spare you the elaborate version of this tale to reveal that on the twelfth day there was :

One Simple Gesture

KneelingI could have entitled this post “one simple gesture that will enhance your D/s relationship” but I’m really not that pretentious.

There is one gesture that will melt my heart and move me. One little thing that means so much and it is this, my boy kneeling at my feet.

It’s simple, non sexual, even publicly acceptable but it puts our D/s relationship in central space for that moment.

I had Mat kneel for me recently in a busy town centre. I was amused (and not entirely surprised) at the cries of “say Yes” that ensued. What those observers didn’t know is in that moment we were both saying “yes” to each other. This gesture from him at my command underlines who we are.

He kneeled at my feet atop a beautiful hill as I sat on a throne like rock, my willing submissive, my boy, my own. No queen ever felt so powerful, so respected or so worshipped as I did then.

Mat kneeled at my feet unbidden at the end of a hard day and helped me off with my shoes. As he gently massaged my feet, I felt loved and cared for. A simple service, spontaneously offered and the more precious for it. He gave me his submission without words and I took it with joy.

It is a gesture that sums up who we are. It never fails to move me deeply. At my feet, my Boy offers himself and I accept gladly. I give him my love and my approval. There is no quicker way to my heart.

This then is my favourite view of my Boy.

An Uncertain Invasion

Sucking My CockSo many posts start ‘we went to a play party’ but this was our first this year. Yes, you read that correctly. For various reasons formal public play has been missing for a while and that is not good for Mat or for me.

So the result was a trip out to a new event, a new venue and with new people. I was nervous and uncertain and arriving early to a brightly lit empty room with a few people on one side propping up the bar did little to reassure. I didn’t feel like a Domme at that moment and whether Mat responded to that lack, or his uncertainty increased my own I’m not sure but we struggled to find our respective headspaces.

We decided to explore the venue (primarily a swingers club). We found a small dungeon, reassuringly dark and with a few pieces of furniture. That space gave me somewhere to relax, the confidence to put my Boy safely on his lead and to start to play.

Still it was awkward, clumsy, nervous and uncertain. It wasn’t until I had my Boy on all fours on the bed and was pounding into him with my strap-on that I really began to feel like myself again.
I had a wonderful time flogging him, in a gently therapeutic (for both of us) way. We enjoyed watching some boys being thoroughly abused, well I definitely enjoyed it. I even just about found time to use Mat’s boy-cunt again before the evening was over.

And so, finally, we went home, to fall asleep in happy exhaustion. Knowing we need to do this again much more often.

Rope And Steel

Rope and SteelD/s has been struggling to find space in my life recently. Of course there are the little rituals that keep our lives ticking over but some things have been missing…and missed. As they become less common the confidence to even try to find them suffers and so begins a vicious spiral.

What a welcome relief then to get away from the limitations of ordinary, everyday life for a little while and have a break. New surroundings and a lack of routine are both things that seem to open up the space for play.

I would have said we were tired, that we needed sleep but when Mat lay back across the bed, naked, just inviting me to play with his body I could hardly resist. I took my dagger and ran it lightly across his body; threatening and gentle. I used the flat of it to tap his balls and I pressed the point of it into his skin until it left a mark. with my hands I stroked his face and tweaked his nipples. I wanked his cock and watched him gasp but I held back from giving him too much pleasure.

After all, we did need to sleep. I took rope and tied it around the base of his cock and then pulling it back between his legs I settled down to sleep still holding and tugging my Boy.

Waking, holding the rope, in the early light was a delight. A pleasure too long missed. My Boy and I, for once, awake together.

I couldn’t resist playing with his body and began to wank him again. I took up my dagger and laid it across his throat with one hand as I pulled him to the edge of orgasm with the other. I let it fade and then enjoyed bringing him to the point of no return. My good Boy, steel across his throat as he bucked in helpless pleasure.

For those precious hours he was my Boy and I was his Domme. Perfect, happy and complete; with rope and steel.

 

Warming His Cock

Deep HeatIronically, the Deep Heat had been bought originally to torture my Boy. On that occasion it had been unneeded and so it had made its way unopened into the medicine cabinet. Now it found its way out to be used to bring relief to Mat’s aching back.

While I had him lying still, I trailed my slightly contaminated fingers over his cock and watched his reactions blossom. This was clearly an avenue that needed pursuing.

“I want to be tortured by you” he whispered softly. A request no loving Domme could ignore.

Later on, we made the time to play. I took rope (for the first time in, oh, far too long) and wrapped it around his wrists. Pulling them then behind his head and taking the rope around his arms I made sure he knew that he would be lying back, unable to interfere with my pleasure. Once he had lain back with a pillow tucked under his head to ensure his comfort I fastened the end of the rope to the bed. He wasn’t going anywhere.

I opened the tube of deep heat and smeared the merest dab on the head of his cock. He complained he could hardly feel it. I grinned, I hadn’t even got started yet. I took my time, applying the cream to different areas of his cock, watching his reactions, asking for feedback; warming him up gently. His cock was hard, this was pleasure interspersed with pain.

I was aware of just how turned on I was. Enjoying the irony that Mat’s cock was something I simply couldn’t have for now. Still I had something better than sex at that moment.

I continued to torture his cock. Wrapping ribbon tightly around his balls to heighten his sensations I moved to slapping them gently while my hand continued to stroke his gently burning cock. As always, the noises my Boy makes while being tortured drove me on. I was in no hurry.

Still finally, he told me how ready he was.
“If you want me to cum”, he said,”you’re going to need to hit me harder and use a lot more deep heat”.
How could I refuse. With a fresh application of cream I continued my ministrations. I knew he hadn’t thought this through. With a deep sense of evil delight I knew this was going to hurt. So soon, he was gasping harder, and his head tipped back.
“May I cum?” his simple question.
“Oh, yes”, I breathed as I stroked him and watched his body convulse and his spunk shoot into the air.

“It’s burning, it’s burning” as his pleasure subsided the pain kicked in.
“Oh god, it hurts” he moaned. Still helpless, he whimpered in the aftermath of orgasm. This was the pain I had been saving up for him. This was my rush of pleasure.

Gently now, I untied him and held him, comforting, loving my brave Boy who had taken the torture for me and loved me still. How warmly I loved him in that moment.