Armpit Hypnotism

(Drafted in September…)

Michelle’s armpits drive me insane. They smell salty, tangy, meaty, powerful and thoroughly dominant.

Even without chastity, the smell from them is enough to make me want to be near her and to please her. If I’ve been chaste for anything more than about two days, the smell makes me rock hard in an instant and I feel almost light-headed with desire. They just make me want to fuck her, and make sure she is happy and all her needs are met. I guess, biologically, that is their role.

She’s we’ll aware of this. She often wears tops that leave them exposed, and if she asks me to do something for her, she sometimes accentuates the instruction by spreading her arms out to the side, or even putting them up by her head so I can see the stubble. “Get me a drink will you honey?”

Even more powerful is when she directs my nose into her armpit and gives me orders. Sometimes this is when we are around the house and she wants to make sure things get done. She’ll raise her arm, point to the pit and guide my head in there. “Get your nose in there, cutie.”

After a few whiffs she begins instruction. “I want the house tidied today before people come over. I’ll be in my room having a lie down.”

“OK, sure.”

Then she’s off, leaving me with the smell.

Best of all is when she instructs me to smell her when we’re in bed, like during a fuck we had recently. All of a sudden I found my body pinned by her legs and my head locked away in her armpit and then she started telling me the score.

“OK, here’s what you need to understand. You want to serve and obey me all the time. You can never do enough for me. The merest touch from me makes you quiver with delight. You are not allowed to come unless I say so. You…”

“Stop!” I cried out. Nothing makes me want to come faster than being spoken to like this. Within about fifteen seconds I was on the edge of orgasm.

“OK,” she sighed, and stopped grinding her cunt on my cock.

It took me a minute to calm down, then I pleaded with her to tell me more.

“No. That’s all,’ she said. And I think I understand why. Who wants a lover who only lasts fifteen seconds?

Anyway, I think her armpits open up my subconscious and just generally make me feel more receptive to instruction. Not everything she says gets in, but I can feel some of her words rattling around in my mind for weeks afterwards. In particular, the phrase, “you can never do enough for me” is now deeply imbedded in my mind and pops into my head when I first see see her in the evening.

I asked her about the wisdom of this. “You’re sure you want me thinking that? I could get pretty neurotic if I think I’m never enough for you.”

“I’m OK with it so far. If I need to tweak it, I will,” she said.

I guess she could, too.

The really odd thing is, we’ve tried other kinds of hypnosis and none of it has worked as well. She has even made a recording of a script in which she repeatedly instructed me on all the different ways she wanted to be served, lasting about half an hour. I’ve listened to that about fifty times, and I don’t think any of it has sunk in to the same degree as the single lines she has said to me when I have my head in her armpit and I am on the edge of orgasm.

It’s just a very receptive, submissive place to be.

The Waiting Game

It’s been a hectic week what with the move and all, and we’ve slipped into a pretty non-sexual way of relating. It’s not exactly vanilla – I’m still chaste and she’s still in contriol, but there’s no play to speak of, just work, stress and the challenge of staying on top of everything. She’s told me that she’s “just trying to get through”, and promised me that sooner or later I’m going to cop it, so I’ll just wait patiently while not in use, and hopefully when the last box is finally unpacked, normal service may be resumed.

In the meantime here’s a post I drafted ages ago.  I got several of these to keep this thing ticking along until I get properly settled in mid-Dec.


No Sleep ’til Sometime: Chastity and Insomnia

I haven’t been getting much sleep lately. I’ve been chaste for about four months now, with only the occasional release (once every 2 weeks or so), and I guess the hormone levels are really starting to build up.

I get to bed at somewhere between 10 and 11 every night and don’t actually nod off until 2 or 3. The intervening 4 or 5 hours are a mix of time spent reading, time on the computer and just time spent lying there fantasizing. By 1am, or so I am too tired to do much else other than just lie there, but still cannot actually sleep for a few more hours. Then I’m up at 7.

I have had insomnia before, related to stress, but this is different, worse and better. It’s worse because I get even less sleep, but better because lying around in a horny half-dream is pretty enjoyable, especially if I know Michelle is in a deep post-orgasm sleep in the other room (we have separate bedrooms).

Oddly, I’m not that tired. You’d think with only 4 hours of sleep a night for several months, I’d be exhausted, but in fact I’m OK physically, and cope with a lot of day-to-day stuff pretty well, although mentally I’m not so sharp, and forget a lot of stuff. I think chastity makes me a bit vague anyway, and coupled with the lack of sleep it is even worse; but the extra energy I get from chastity somehow balances the whole thing out so I can function OK.

Michelle, who is an increasing fan of my chastity, doesn’t seem
remotely concerned about this side-effect and kicks me out of her room after she has come, saying things like ‘sleep well…or not!’ and ‘make sure to think about me while you are lying awake.’ She has never once expressed concern that I might be sleep deprived and thinks my memory lapses and general vagueness are sweet, just so long as they do not affect her too much.

I love that.

The thing is, change is in the air; we’re moving to a new location (another country actually) and I will need to take up the breadwinner role while Michelle stays home or does further study. So, we’ll see how I go on four hours sleep when I am working 9 to 5. That might be a different story. I’m kind of hoping that the insomnia will be a phase, like the period I went through where I smelled like day old sausage. That went away, so with any luck the sleepless nights will be a thing of the past soon. In the meantime they are kind of funny, but could be a drag if they go on too much longer.

We move in a few days and the computer is going into temporary storage, so it might be about a week before I blog again, and then infrequently until about Dec 15 when we will be properly established.

In the meantime, enjoy yourselves.


Leading, Following, and Coming of Age

OK, time to get serious for a moment…

Looking around at blogs by a few other submissive guys, I can see a common theme – how to work through the paradox of a man leading a woman into a female led-relationship. Good to know we’re not the only ones who have struggled with that! (I’m talking in particular about some posts on All for Her, but I see this kind of thing around in other places too.)

It seems there’s nothing really wrong with it, to begin with. The man, who has had submissive urges for a while, plucks up the courage and lays it out for his partner to see – “this is who I really am, this is what I want for us”.

If he’s lucky, she begins to experiment with the power she’s been given, decides she likes the control and the domestic peace it affords, and the whole thing takes off from there.

The problem for me is that over the last few years I have put so much energy into creating the right environment for this kind of D/s relationship that I almost don’t know how to stop. I have had a lot of practice in leading, and not so much at the following.

Partly, I’ve been scared that without constant input from me the whole thing will fall by the wayside. (We’ve had false starts before.) I used to feel like when she did something bossy and wonderful, I needed to say, “yeah, be like that more,” which was patronizing and annoying because she knows perfectly well how to be. I haven’t done this for a while, I’m pleased to say. Instead I just say “I love it when you talk to me that way.”

But more importantly, it’s that I still have difficulty in accepting that Michelle isn’t just doing it to humor me because she loves me and wants our marriage to work. Even when she blows my mind into tiny fragments, there’s still sometimes a nagging doubt that she’s being led, willingly, into pleasing me by dominating me, and that eventually she’ll grow tired of the game because it isn’t really her.

The doubt is the thing that prevents my total immersion in submission. Still a part of me remains, a part that wants to question, and to control.

Over the last few months there’s been a shift – she’s undertaken so many acts of dominance, many of which were not actually to my liking, that I am starting to relax into my role and forget about whether it’s me or her. I’ve been more chilled, she’s noticed, and been more dominant with me in an off-hand way, which I love. She asks, and I say yes. If I ask, she says yes or no, without a trace of guilt or reluctance. I’m happy about that.

Then again, there are still moments of doubt, of indecision, moments when I wish she’d be more dominant with me, and she senses that, feels pressured, and backs away to the safety of the old way.

So I guess in one sense this is a ‘coming of age post‘ for our relationship. I think we can see the wood and the trees now. We’ve made it out of the first stage of the paradox. She is often very comfortable in using her power to get what she wants and I am mostly comfortable that she is doing this willingly, and forcefully.

But I’d be lying if I said I was totally comfortable with it. And I’d be lying if I said I wish she wasn’t more dominant sometimes.

I think the doubt and the frustration will probably remain for quite a while, and slowly diminish with time and practice. I suspect that D/s relationships probably go through a whole series of arrivals, points at which both partners feel relaxed enough to stop worrying about whether something ‘means’ something, and just go with it. Hopefully this can keep happening throughout the relationship.

That’s probably why I see coming of age posts on other blogs, by guys who have been doing this for much longer than me. Even after years of deep submission, there’s still a sense of wonderment and relief at the increasing dominance of their partners. “Hey, she’s been even more dominant lately. Awesome! We’ve really made it!”

I guess this makes sense. You wouldn’t expect there to be a definitive ‘arrival’ in a vanilla relationship, reaching a place where all roles were fixed and all issues were resolved. So why expect it of a D/s relationship? If you think about it, it would be kind of inflexible and get pretty boring.

So anyway, if Michelle wants to be more dominant, bring it on. I think I’m ready. But if it doesn’t come, or takes a long time, well then, I’m ready for that too. I’m going to try not to lead any more.

And in terms of this blog: I’m going to try and avoid having too many posts that say things like: “We’ve made it! She made me bark like a dog at a dinner party! We’re officially D/s now!”

Because I can see that the old anxieties will still be there, and that a month later, we’ll have some argument or lapse, and that will make me want to eat my words and make me realise we still have a way to travel.

Then again, if Michelle does something spectacularly dominant, or ups the tempo in some way, I probably will let y’all know…


My pants are chafing me, baby

Michelle returned from her work trip on Saturday afternoon and we spent the remainder of the day ogling each other before we finally got at it. She deliberately wore a very low cut dress with no bra, and if that wasn’t enough, I got even more aroused when she asked me whether I had stayed chaste for her.

‘Yes, of course. I told you that on the phone,’ I said. (It’s been about ten days).

‘OK, just checking. I stayed chaste too.’

‘Really?’ (I was quite surprised at the thought she had waited for me).

‘Yeah. I didn’t have sex with anyone else. Oh, I did masturbate a lot though.’

Sigh. Schnookered again.

When we get into bed, she gets completely naked and instructs me to make her come. But as I start taking my pants of…

‘No, leave them on, it’s sexy,’ she says.

We spend the next hour fooling around, with me masturbating her and giving her oral, and her fondling my cock through my jeans.

Well, it started out as fondling, by the end it was more like the motion you use to knead dough into a sausage shape, and my dick was really getting quite scraped around. Not exactly hardcore CBM, but after a while, I really wanted to get it out of there and into the fresh air. But I’m not really supposed to ask for things during sex, and Michelle didn’t offer, so the jeans stayed on. And on. And on.

‘You having a good time?’ I ask after a while.

‘Brilliant. I’ve been on the edge for ages,’ she said. ‘Your dick feels so sexy. You can squirt in your jeans if you like, sweetie.’

‘Ah, not quite the right kind of stimulation,’ I say. Actually, it did feel pretty good, just not in that way. The pain of the chafing mingled in with the pleasureable, pre-orgasmic itch and added up to a feeling that was different to anything I’ve had before – not likely to make me come, but enough to make me very hard and happy.

(By the way, the testosterone build-up in situations like this gives me very aggressive surges, during which I want to bite her, tongue-kiss her very dominantly, or just jump on her and fuck her, ignoring all her rules and demands. I have to use breath control to get through them, while she lies beneath me, making deliberately unhelpful, teasing comments about how I need to remember my place. I think one of these days, I’m just not going to be able to resist…)

So anyway, we kept at it for ages longer, kissing and groaning and writhing about just happy to be back with each other again, not wanting it to end. I kept slowly stroking her clit and she kept wrangling my dick around through the denim, until finally she came all over the place, and that was it.

Then I left her lying there all blissed out, and went to lie on the spare bed, where I got to take my pants off at last, and managed to get some of the pre-cum out with a few careful edges. Took me til four in the morning to get to sleep, though.

She says she’s going to make me come at some point soon.

Apparently I’m “kinkier than most”…

…according to the Hotlanta Kink Test, anyway.

My score of 501 to 600 means I’m more than just a “kinky player”, but not a major league kinkster like The Enigmatic Angel, from whose blog I learned about this test. Not that I’m competitive or anything…

The scores go like this…

100 or less – You need to lighten up and live a little!
101 to 200 – You have an average sex life in need of kink.
201 to 300 – You have sweet hints of a kinky nature.
301 to 400 – You have kinky playful tendencies.
401 to 500 – You are definitely a kinky player.
501 to 600 – You are kinkier than most!
601 to 700 – You are a major league kinkster!
701 to 800 – You live and breath kinky!!
801 to 900 – Wow! You’re too kinky for most!!!
901 or more – SUPER FREAK ALERT! You da BOMB!

The questions range from simple vanilla stuff like “do you like oral sex?” to hardcore stuff about bestiality, and I wonder about the weightings given in each section. I have to say as well, there’s not much in there from a D/s perspective. There’s really only one question specifically regarding my type of kink, and nothing at all about chastity, CBs, domestic service, face-sitting or any other femdom norms. I probably lost points on questions like “have you ever been videotaped in a public dungeon?” and there were no basic femdom questions for me to pick up those points later in the game!!!

Not meaning to whinge like a little baby, but WAAAAAHHHH!!!!! RIGGED!!! UNFAIR !!! etc.

So, in the spirit of sub-equality, here’s some questions on which I would have scored very highly, had they been included in the test.

The scoring for each one is:

  • Yes, all the time (3)
  • Yes (2)
  • No, but I like the sound of that (1)
  • No (0)

And the questions are:

  1. Does your partner constantly make you give him / her massages and then laugh when you ask for one?
  2. Does your partner routinely deny you orgasm and then mock you when you get frustrated?
  3. Have you ever used a queening / kinging chair?
  4. Does your partner smack your face or bottom as a way of chastising you?
  5. Do you fantasise about your partner chaining you up in the kitchen to do housework while s/he lounges around drinking champagne?
  6. Do you basically think your partner’s body is the best thing in the entire world?
  7. Has your partner ever pulled your hair so hard during oral sex that some of it came out?
  8. Does your partner address you by demeaning terms?
  9. Does your partner make you beg to make them come?
  10. Do you make short or long-term verbal or written contracts with your partner concerning your service to him or her?

Anyway, head on over and do the real test yourself and see how you go – bearing in mind you have to join Hotlanta to do it. If this seems like the kind of thing I’d only do if I had too much time on my hands, well, I plead guilty to that. Michelle is away, she has been all week, and the only instructions she left me with were about things I was not allowed to do. So that hasn’t exactly taken up a whole lot of my spare time…


Lena: Sticking to A Good Thing

‘I enjoyed last night,’ says Lena sleepily.

‘Oh, good. Me too. The guide book said it’s one of the best places in the area, so I figured it was worth the extra koruna, for sure.’

‘I don’t mean the restaurant,’ she says. ‘Although, it was nice. But I don’t need a guide book to tell me that. I used to live here, remember.’

‘Oh yeah. Sorry. So…anyway, I’m just glad you are having a good time being back home again. You want a coffee?’

You’re already up, showered, the coffee is on, and you want to get a move on so there’s not too much of a queue for the museum. But Lena has not moved from the bed. She’s still lying there in her night shirt, her evening make-up still close to perfect. She gives you a lazy half-smile and says:

‘No, I don’t want coffee now. I was talking about the sex, last night. I enjoy it. You make me feel pretty good.’

Pretty good? Talk about being damned by faint praise. But, you have already worked out that this girl always says what she means, and never says anything she doesn’t mean, so it doesn’t come as a big surprise. And you are going to be on holiday together for the next three weeks, so you might as well learn to take it on the chin.

‘Thanks,’ you say. ‘I aim to please.’

‘Good,’ she says. ‘It’s a good attitude. But there is one thing…’

‘What?’ you say, immediately and instinctively.

‘Well…’ She puts her arms up around her head (a position in which she spent much of the previous evening), and her shirt falls open. ‘How do you say in English…when I am on a good thing, I stick to it? And you are a pretty good thing, so…’

You feel a little downhearted, because that sounds like it might be a criticism, and you really thought she’d had a good time.

‘Sorry. I think I know what you mean. I thought you had…finished.’

‘Why?’ she asks.

‘Well, you…made noises like you were coming, so I thought, after that, it would be OK for me to go for it.’

‘Oh, I get it. You think I’m talking about the fucking.’ She gives you another sly smile.

Now you really are perplexed. You’d thought she meant that you’d come too soon during sex, even though you thought you hadn’t.

‘Yeah…that’s what I thought,’ you say. ‘I’m confused. I thought you’d come, so…’

‘The fucking was good,’ she says. ‘And yes, I did come, you are right. But, if you want to hold on for longer next time, that’s good, too. But actually, I was talking about what happened before that…’

What happened before that? After you’d kissed for about half an hour, you went down on her, for another half an hour, to make sure she was totally satisfied, to make sure her first night back in her home town was really something to remember. As far as you knew, she came at least once, maybe twice.

‘Oh, you mean the…cunnilingus? I…ah…what was the problem with that?’

‘Who said there was a problem? It was great. That’s why I don’t know why you stopped. And, I don’t like that word for it. Just call it eating me out.’

‘Alright, well, because I’d been…eating you out, for a while, and it seemed like you’d had enough, and I thought it would be OK for us to have sex.’

‘Hold on, you talk too fast,’ she says. ‘First thing, how long is “a while”? Second thing, why do you think that I have had enough?’

‘B…Because, you came! Didn’t you?’

‘But what is that got to do with it?’ she asks, her grammar slipping as she gets impatient with you.

‘Well, normally, when someone comes, they can’t…’

‘Normally, says who?’ she interrupts.

‘Well…alright, I suppose it’s just that when I was with my old girlfriend, if I made her come, that would be it for quite a while. Probably for the evening. So…’

‘Am I your old girlfriend?’ she says.

‘No, obviously not. Look, I think I’m missing the point here. I’m sorry that you didn’t get what you wanted. Next time you better just…ask me, I guess.’

‘I got a better idea,’ she says. ‘Next time, I say when I am finished. Like I said, when I am having a good time, I want to keep having a good time. That’s the point you are missing. OK?’

‘OK. So, next time I’ll just…keep going?’

‘Yes. Now, you have to make it up to me.’

‘Sure,’ you say, your eyes flicking over to the alarm clock, aware of the time rolling on. ‘What did you have in mind?’

She rolls her eyes, and then smiles at you. ‘I want what I missed last night, of course!’

She begins to slowly pull down the elastic on her panties. The lazy, teasing look in her eye has changed to something a little more demanding.

‘Oh…sure thing, but just for a bit, though. We don’t want to be late to the museum.’

She laughs. ‘Do I look like I want to spend the morning at the museum? I went there when I was a girl.’

‘Uh…I guess not, then. So, how long do you want me to, uh…?’ You falter, not sure how to finish the sentence.

‘Eat me out?’ she prompts.

‘Yeah. How long do you want to…’

She rolls her eyes again. ‘I don’t know how long I want it for. But I’ll let you know when I’ve had enough, you don’t worry about looking at the clock. You just keep going til I stay stop.’

She has now totally removed her pants. Your scheduled morning’s touring vanishes as her pussy comes into view. You feel lightheaded just remembering the scent of it from last night.

‘Right,’ you say. ‘Just one thing…if this was what you wanted, why didn’t you just ask me?’

She laughs again, and says:

‘And miss making you all confused? Why would I want to do that?’


NOTE: Lena is a 20-year old Czech girl who has modeled for the London Studio Group on three occasions, all in Prague. By all accounts she is actually very shy, but she doesn’t look it here. Or maybe that’s just my imagination…