More Nettles

Mistress K asked me to write more about the nettles. First, the experience is a little odd. For example, when you get caned or paddled, the event and the pain are as nearly simultaneous as can be. Whack, it hurts. There’s some pain following, but it’s less. The nettles were exactly opposite. They barely brush your skin, you think "this isn’t too bad" and then the pain slowly increases. And increases and then doesn’t go away. It’s a terrible sensation. And it hurts like the dickens.

I hurt from the nettles from the afternoon until I went to bed. Alleve worked to reduce the pain by bedtime, but it still hurt. I should mentioned that my ass hurt the worst, and some of that pain may have been caused by my ass-presensitization caused by a little caning.
The next day, my whole body felt swollen. I mentioned in my earlier post that my chest was bigger. I’ve got little fat boy breasts, (Phil Mikelson B-cups) and yesterday they were substantially bigger. The pain had gone away, but I still had red spots and welts.

I started a thread on Max Fisch about this and I’m curious what other’s experience is.

Nettles

Well, fans, I’m out of chastity. I was locked up for more than sixty days with no release, but Mistress Katja and I agreed to take a sabbatical for the summer. And she said I wasn’t to be locked up unless she had the key, that chastity was not a game. I agree.

I saw her the other day. It was my birthday, and for a present she brought a bunch of nettles. I had read about stinging nettles (St. Keven rolled in Nettles to control his sexual desire) but I had never experienced them. So I got strokes for my birthday with nettles. Nothing the truly evil Mistress K has ever done has hurt so much. The pain was like a slow burn, first the stroke and then, seconds later, the burn. She whipped my whole body with them, clamped nettle leaves on my nipples, and even whipped my penis. Then, she had me get dressed, put some nettles around my balls, and had me run an errand. I could barely walk. My body hurt all day, and the next day I still had welts. My chest was swollen, making my breasts larger.

I have done more, and gone further, in my submissive nature in the last six months, than I did in a lifetime of fantasy. I’m pretty proud of it, and I’m truly grateful to Mistress Katja for taking me along this road.

Enema

For those of you who are counting, I’m about fifty seven days without release from my chastity belt. I saw ( the truly evil) Mistress Katja yesterday, and, while she let me out for a minute, I was back in without relief or release before I knew it.

My time with Mistress was overwhelming emotionally. A nice image – I was streched up on a St. Andrew’s cross (a ‘x’ shaped frame). The cross was facing a brick wall. Mistress was beating me. She would take her time, picking out a new whip, walking around behind me, swishing the whip around. As I faced forward, I could see her shadow, and the shadow of the whip on the the brick wall in front of me. The shadow was scary, as scary as the sound of the cane whizzing through the air. It was the first time she had caned me, and it really hurt.

For the first time in my life, I had an enema. In fact, I had several. These were what Mistress Katja called ‘punishment enema’s’. They weren’t very painful, but they were extremely, totally and effectively demoralizing. By the time they were done, I was in what’s called sub-space, and my only desire was to please Mistress Katja.

I wanted to show off my new bra and panties that I had bought at Victoria’s secret, and my reward was clothes pins on my nipples. While nipple torture is painful, its real benefit is that my nipples remain sore and erect for a day or so following.

Mistress Katja wants to see me more often. I had a comment here that I'm in another world than most. I admit that my behavior as cataloged on this blog is pretty deviant. But, I'm still excited by it, and I haven't hurt anyone, except myself. I'm getting old, and I don't want to spend my life in fantasy, when reality is available. Mistress Katja is young, creative, beautiful and keeps pushing my limits. At this point, though, she hasn't reached them.

Slavery essay

While looking at porn on the internet, I saw a movie clip of a woman, kneeling in a bathtub. Guys were pissing on her, you couldn’t see the men, just the tips of their penises. They were verbally abusing her as well, and at one point, when told to, she looked at the camera, and said "I’m a piece of shit." Thinking about this scene, it struck me as about as totally degrading as something could get, and yet her total submission turns me on.

The path that I am is, I’m afraid, similar. I was thinking this morning in bed about how much Mistress Katja controls my life. She obviously has the key to my penis. In addition to keeping me from masturbating, the fact that my penis is locked up, as well as my shaved legs, painted toenails and panties, has changed how I relate to women. When I meet women in social situations, I’m constrained, because I don’t want to have to explain that I’m someone else’s property, and that even if she was interested in me, I’d have to get the key before we could have sex.

Mistress Katja also controls a lot of my imaginary life too. My sexual obsession used to be relieved by masturbation, and because it was relieved, it had limits. Because all I can do now is fantasize, my obsession takes larger parts of my life (here I am writing at 5:30 in the morning), and has gone in different directions at her wish. Before I started this I would never have fantasized about men, and now, because she told me to, I do.

My ordinary day to day life is controlled as well. I’ve given up my favorite hobby, because I can’t do it with the chastity belt on. My budget is constrained by my relationship with her. And I think about her a lot.

So being a slave isn’t living in the basement and being dragged out for sex, it’s a gradual and total change, that leads to an acceptance of my submissiveness. Its expressed in changes in my life, and a willingness to abase myself. So if asked, or if told to, I would gladly get pissed on, drink the piss and allow a video of myself on the internet saying "I’m a piece of shit", but I’m Mistress Katja’s piece of shit, and that possession is the important part.

Pink nightgown

Over the weekend I got high speed internet, and being the guy that I am, I’ve spent a bunch of time looking at porn, especially movies. I mentioned yesterday that I’m fascinated by blowjob shots, facials and things like that, and that I imagine myself in the receiving role. Another spot is The Other World Kingdom. This is a place in the Czech Republic, in an old castle, which is run as a kingdom run by women. It’s a real place, and one can go there and visit, but as a submissive, you’d want to think twice, because it’s the real deal, with dungeons, and ponyboy play and all that stuff.

At any rate, I spent a couple bucks and subscribed to their movie site (www.OWK-cinema.com) and have had some thoughts. First, they have some amazing stuff. A guy caned until his ass bleeds. The guy I mentioned yesterday who had breasts. But more importantly, I was thinking about who I am. So on the internet, I see a guy pathetically crying as he’s whipped. I don’t think about what a doofus this guy is, I’m impressed with how beautiful and powerful the woman whipping him is. I want to be him, even if he is going farther than I’m currently willing to go in submission, and even if a part of my brain violently disagrees.

So here I am trying to keep my self-esteem, with my penis locked up, no key in sight. I’m sitting at my computer in my nice pink nightgown. I don’t think I have a choice.

A submissive day

What a day for a submissive. Somehow, since my family left, I’ve been more committed to becoming as submissive as could be. So today, I went and got my toenails painted, fucked myself with dildo while watching some gay cum shot porn, posted an introductory note on a BDSM website, and am now going to shave my legs and take a nap. Later, I’m going to go shopping for an outfit I could where to the SM club which shows my true submissiveness. I think I dress too much like a top. Wrong semiotics.

coffee

Well, I tried to masturbate again and the experiment was, as the scientists say, ‘not replicable’ so today I am totally horny, totally at the mercy of my chastity device, and my Mistress is far away. She told me at one point she was going to mail me the key as she was going to be out of town, but I guess that’s just more exquisite torture.

I went to the S&M club last night for a couple of hours. I have trouble meeting people there and I definitely have trouble asking for what I want. I look, I think, somewhat like a top, when at heart I’m a bottom. Moreover, there’s a cadre of older guys who just look, and I don’t want to be like them. So, I’m going to go buy myself some leather or vinyl club clothes. I look ridiculous in drag, but that humiliation is part of what I crave.

Playing around with my new high speed internet, I saw a video from the Other World Kingdom. The interesting part about it was that the Dominatrix was torturing a guy about my age with a nice set of breasts. The guy was pretty ugly, but he had a nice rack. Makes me wonder.

Lastly, on days when I don’t go to work, I don’t drink as much coffee as I do when I do go to work, and then I wake up with a terrific headache. Two solutions present themselves – First, cut down on coffee all the time, Second, drink more coffee on the weekends.

I wish Mistress Katja was in town, I really would like to see her.

Coffee

Well, I tried to masturbate again and the experiment was, as the scientists say, ‘not replicable’ so today I am totally horny, totally at the mercy of my chastity device, and my Mistress is far away. She told me at one point she was going to mail me the key as she was going to be out of town, but I guess that’s just more exquisite torture.

I went to the S&M club last night for a couple of hours. I have trouble meeting people there and I definitely have trouble asking for what I want. I look, I think, somewhat like a top, when at heart I’m a bottom. Moreover, there’s a cadre of older guys who just look, and I don’t want to be like them. So, I’m going to go buy myself some leather or vinyl club clothes. I look ridiculous in drag, but that humiliation is part of what I crave.

Playing around with my new high speed internet, I saw a video from the Other World Kingdom. The interesting part about it was that the Dominatrix was torturing a guy about my age with a nice set of breasts. The guy was pretty ugly, but he had a nice rack. Makes me wonder.

Lastly, on days when I don’t go to work, I don’t drink as much coffee as I do when I do go to work, and then I wake up with a terrific headache. Two solutions present themselves – First, cut down on coffee all the time, Second, drink more coffee on the weekends.

I wish Mistress Katja was in town, I really would like to see her.