Deep breath. And... relax. Here goes

This morning while MyPete was in the shower, I took out Dora and Big Bear and left them on the bedside table. I didn't say anything about them, but I knew he'd notice. <evil grin> Sal

 

Oh dear. I think I've misjudged and made a mistake. Excuse another long post. A lot has been happening.

Last night I was still feeling that I wanted the sensation of being filled and yet it felt too early to unlock. Having him wear a strap on or sheath is something that he has described as 'beyond mindfuckery' which makes me enjoy it more than I probably otherwise would. The sheath isn’t quite as user-friendly but doesn’t require fiddling around with straps, so I chose that. I unlocked him and asked him to go and tuck himself into it. It’s fairly rigid and pretty insulating, but I put a little dab of cream (we call it ‘numb-numbs’ – haha) just to be sure.

That would normally have been quite enough, but wanting to push the limits a bit, after extended and very happy kissing, I’d had what I thought was a great idea. When he returned, looking extremely sheepish and embarrassed, I asked him to go and sit in the measurement chair with legs out over the arms as usual. He obviously expected me to take off the sheath to be measured. With my stomach literally doing flips, I just gave him the tape measure and asked him to measure it just as it was. He gave me such a look – a combination of frightened rabbit and upset but also, I thought, kind of excited too – that I nearly gave in. Instead, I just said stared him down and said, ‘Let’s do the length first’. I wrote it down, then I asked him to do the girth in a couple of places and he wrote those down. He was literally trembling! I poked a bit of fun at his handwriting and thanked him for doing that for me.

We had a long kiss on the bed and I asked him how he felt. ‘Out of control’ – and I felt in charge again. I told him I quite like it when he feels that way. I told him that I wanted to feel filled. He knew I wasn’t about to remove the sheath so he just said he would try to take it nice and slowly, which he knows I like, especially with a sheath or a strap-on. He was so eager to please that I nearly let him get on with it but I just popped him on his back and told him that he didn’t have to judge the speed or depth, because I would do that. Being on top with him wearing the sheath felt ok physically – to tell the truth not absolutely amazing and I couldn’t really get the circular grindy motion that would be properly satisfying. But mentally it was just extraordinary – incredibly erotic and dominant in a way that was unnerving and absolutely thrilling. I knew that it was frustrating for both of us but the sense of power and control for me was amazing.

After a while it started to get a touch uncomfortable so I sat him cross-legged on the floor, deliciously awkward in his sheath and asked him to watch while I while I, how shall we say, brought things to a conclusion. I am sorry to say, I’d rather lost track of how he was feeling at that point. If I’d been more sensitive, I’d have stopped there and brought him to bed for a reassuring cuddle and perhaps released him for a bit. But I was on a kind of high, a bit carried away with it all and to my shame, I made him measure himself (in the sheath) again and made a show of writing down the numbers, which were of course the same as last time.

That had of course been the whole point and I’d thought I’d been clever again in making him fill in the blanks. But after we did that, and I’d brought him to bed, we were chatting and I could tell that something wasn’t right. I asked him what was happening and he said, “I feel a bit broken.” I could tell he was holding back tears and I suddenly felt sick with worry. I realised that the combination of everything we’d done over the last few days, along with my change in attitude had been too much, or at least too much too quickly. I said that this was new to me and that I was sorry if I’d misjudged. I asked him if he would prefer not to have the cage back on that night and he said that he’d prefer not. I said that of course that was ok.

We chatted for a while and I made us hot chocolate and then we chatted some more. When we seemed calm again, he asked me what I had felt and I said that up until the point I realised I’d gone too far, it had been physically nice but not spectacular, but mentally I had lost myself in the feeling of power and dominance and that I’d found that scarily exciting. But that once I realised he was genuinely upset, I didn’t find that exciting at all. He found that reassuring. I asked him if he felt he could explain how he’d felt and he said, “mentally and physically smothered and totally out of control”.

He said that when I’d asked him to lick the yoghurt off the mirror, that had felt very edgy indeed and he felt that over the last few days, everything I’d been doing had ratcheted up the tension, the humiliation and the feeling of being completely dominated. I told him that’s indeed exactly what I’d been trying to do but had no idea that I was being so effective! He said that being waxed intimately, while I watched and chatted with the guy doing it (who’d obviously seen all sorts before) was one of the most humiliating things that had ever happened to him. He said that the moment when I’d gripped his wrist and stared him down was incredibly powerful and that I’d followed up with ordering for him in the cake shop and making him eat an éclair. He said that even though nobody else would ever bat an eyelid, he felt he was on show and it was like performing oral sex in public. I thought he was joking and had to stop myself laughing as he continued. He said he’d noticed the Dora and Big Bear on the bedside table in the morning, as if to say ‘you can’t satisfy me properly, so I’m going to use these on my own’. Then there were quite a few texts from me during the day which had reinforced his feeling that I wanted more than he could offer, in terms of size (that thing again!) and performance (and that!). I reminded him that he’d wanted me to play on that kind of humiliation and that I’d been resistant.

And then he said that making him measure the sheath was very difficult, followed by the ‘mindfuckery’ of having sex while being in the sheath but having no sensation there, and no control, just being taken in the most dominating way possible. He said that he had at that point begun to lose control of himself and that just when he thought it was all over, I’d made him measure himself in the sheath again, not only reinforcing all the doubts about size and performance but also making him realise that he wasn’t even capable at that point of calling a halt and saying no.

We lay awake together for a while more and I reassured him as much as I could that this was meant to be a fun game, that I love him the way he is, and I’d got it wrong for both of us. Gradually I could feel the tension going and we just lay and kissed. I’m afraid I got a bit weepy. As we were about to put out the light he asked me to put the cage back on – just the ‘normal’ sized one. I asked if he was sure and he said that if I didn’t, he’d probably play with himself during the night so it was probably wise. And he gave that big goofy grin that makes my heart melt. After I locked him, he said he found the cage comforting (!) and that it had helped that we'd been able to talk and he could see that even after all that had happened we were able to have a normal chat. He fell asleep easily enough. It took me ages to get to sleep. I kept worrying that I’d overstepped and that the ‘size and performance genie’ was out of the bottle which I’d always been so careful to keep stoppered.And I worried that we might not be able to play as before because we'd both be scared we'd go too far. Worry, worry...

He was subdued this morning and didn't respond to my texts quite as positively as he usually does. He's at his mum’s tonight (which had already been planned). I rang Laura this evening and she said that I was obviously a more convincing domme than I'd thought. She said this sort of reaction was quite common, that he'd be fine in a couple of days when he sees that our relationship can just carry on as normal, that he'll end up being rational and know that he's not really that small or lacking in performance and that I should worry less. But, I'm still worried and I’m feeling like I want a holiday.

Sal

PS I find it very cathartic writing this.

 

Thank you for the messages of advice and concern! @Beyondheat, @bondinchas and @boo you've given me a lot to think about - the others too, for which many thanks.
Things are much better again. WE had another good chat last night and I think the problem was basically too much all at once. The size stuff wasn't really the issue - as Laura said - he knows exactly where he is on the scale of size (blokes, honestly!) and he also know in hs heart of hearts that size isn't an issue for me, although just acting like it is, is definitely edgy. I think the issue was that with everything all at once, he was losing control of himself and got into a bit of a spin, or a swoon as the Victorians might have called it. I actually think that's rather sweet, and told him so.
I asked him if he thought it was like falling off a bike as a child - you have a bad experience but everyone's advice is to get back on again otherwise you'll worry too much and it'll be worse later. He looked at me a bit frightened-rabbity and just said, 'maybe'. I knew he wanted me to decide.
I asked if he'd be ok if I unlocked him and popped him onto the sofa, (kneeling in the position we use to get us both on track - chin towards the back of th sofa, knees apart, deliciously exposed and vulnerable.) Physically, it's a comfortable position for him - but mentally- especially once I'm holding him, we've found it's powerful stuff. But he knows I'm never going to hurt him - holding them is mental control rather than any kind of pain. He was fine about that.

While he was taking his clothes off (I am always clothed when we do this) I went to the kitchen and put a dab of yoghurt on the hand mirror. I didn't show it to him immediately but just unlocked him and spent ten minutes or so holding him and being all sooothing and rubbing the base of his back. I said things things like, 'you love it when I take control' and when he rater eagerly agreed, I said that I do too. I could tell he was very excited, which felt nice for both of us. Then I said the stuff about falling off a bike and getting back on and just put the mirror on the back of the sofa, next to him. He looked a bit alarmed but I just held him - very firmly but absolutely not enough to hurt. He asked me what I wanted him to do but I didn't answer, just continued to hold him. Aminute or so later, he was licking the mirror. He was trembling a little bit and I made sure I sounded completely calm and just quietly said how erotic I find it when he's willing to give up control to me. I turned him around and we had a long, long kiss. I said it looked like he was ok (certainly excited) and he said tht it was edgy but ok.

What I really wanted at that point was to make love and be filled by him, but I knew in his present condition he would come almost immediately and then have all sorts of performance anxiety as a result. We didn't have time for me to let him come and then go for round two later, which would have been the best thing. I said I wanted to reward him and he immediately looked like an eager puppy. He was completely aroused and hard. We've noticed that when he's depserate, he not only gets fixated by my boobs, but his own nipples get more sensitive than usual. I've done my best to associate nipple play with those times I allow him to come.

Lying on the sofa now, just when he was getting close, I asked him to put his hands down by his sides and keep them there. It wasn't what I'd planned but I suddenly realised I wanted to have proper sex in a couple of days so he needed to be kept desperate, and so I decided on the 'RnR, route (ie ruined). I hate to sound boastful, but it's one thing I feel I'm really good at! I could tell he was on the edge and I managed to time it just right. I gripped his nipples and looked him straight in the eyes. I know that look of his - deperately trying to remain in control and not come. I let go of his nipples an just said "come for me, now" and I mentally counted. Eight seconds - it felt like forever!! - and we watched as it bubbled away. No big spurts or anything, just like a tap dribbling, but it went on for a while.

We had a lovely shower together. He asked me how I was feeling and I said, truthfully, a bit frustrated but also very excited by me being in control. He said he felt the same. I said that fortunately I could do something about my frustration if it built up too much. And we wrangled him back into the cage together, which was lovely and intimate. And that was that. Back on a fairly even keel, I think.

Sal

 

I'm literally laughing out loud! Of course it's all about when you start the mental timer, and when you stop... Sal

 

I wouldn't say 'eagerly'! At the moment, I have no wish for him to lick the real thing (I find the thought a bit icky, though of course I realise that's just me and others may feel very differently!!) and I am pretty sure he really doesn't want to do that. But there's a delicious edginess in doing something that represents that thing. It's a bit like when I've worn a strap-on and he's taken it in his mouth. We both know exacty what that represents, and it's edgy and exciting, but neither of us wants him to do the real thing (I think). BUT... having said all that, there's quite a lot of stuff that we do now, and almost take for granted, that a couple of years ago (yes, it's our second chastity anniversary!) I couldn't possibly have thought we would ever do. People change. Sal