Chastity and Crushing

(Not really satisfied with this one. The idea was to have several days of progressive crushing.)

There are some things we wary of trying because it is hard to make sure it doesn’t interfere with our overall life together. On and off we’ve talked about living as slave and owner 24/7 for two or three days. Just to discover how deeply we might come to know our respective sexual spaces. But have thought it’d be best tried somewhere away from home. Where, we’ve never figured out.

Enforced chastity we tried only once before. It was in the very early days and served a very specific purpose.

Several days ago we decided to try chastity again, both curious to see how it might effect my sometimes very strong need to surrender to her. Knowing I was physically under her control wherever I was didn’t displease her.

Don’t know if I’ll be up for a third time. The last few days have been very intense.

What we didn’t anticipate that having me at home already partly in bondage would bring out her pleasure in dominance every day.

Day 1 At work I hadn’t thought much about the chastity belt except when I needed to pee. Back home knowing I couldn’t have her left me wanting her badly. She could tell and softly brought me to my hands and knees to worship her boots.

Placing me on my back on the floor she bound me and removed the chastity belt. Then she ordered me to bring my knees up and slide until my feet touched a wall. A small segment of then plywood went under my cock. After putting a CD in the player she sat on that bit of wood. Having her sit on me brought out all my desire for her. Without standing she started moving to the music. One movement would arouse me, the next crush my cock into the wood. Thankfully one CD was enough, She put the belt back in place and let me up. The mix of pain from mild crushing and strong arousal left me drained.

Day 2 This was hardly the first time I sat bound in a chair as she sat on my lap. She teased me sweetly and cruelly. She knew every trick that would arouse me. And had long mastered many ways of making me whimper. Between feeling her tongue in my ear and her mildly painful operations on other parts of my body she slowly left me drained but hopelessly hungry for her. Long after she lay softly snoring beside me I started at the ceiling feeling I’d accept anything if only it were from her.

Day 3 I found myself again on my back. The friction of her shoes was gentle and arousing. She’d been long disappointed that she couldn’t bring me to orgasm with her feet. Still I didn’t respond.

“You say you love me, you say you worship me.”�

I guess she hoped my pent up frustration would finally make me please her in this way.

She started cursing me. I wilted into myself, as both man and slave I was disappointing her. Her shoes rubbed with increasing speed and friction. My cock was very raw when she finally stopped.

Day 4 “Why are you so stubborn?”�

This after many minutes of arousing me with her shoes without seeing me move toward orgasm.

The front of her foot pressed down and down crushing my cock. That was just her warm-up. Her heel dug in and began to twistingly work its way up. I lay back moaning under her merciless attack.

Day 5 I lay there helplessly enjoying her shoes caress my cock. Even as I sighed with pleasure I knew that I wouldn’t be able to go where she wanted me.

She brought out a too familiar bit of wood with a hole in it. With it and a cock ring in place I watched her. She looked down pityingly.

“Oh, I know you want to. But I can’t forgive you for not being able to.”�

After a few minutes even gentle kicks with a pointed shoe begging and pleading

Day 6 Again she was angry at my failure. But she knew my cock was really too sore for more. I shuddered when I saw her bend down with a little brown bottle. A tap with a swab and she didn’t need to do another thing. The wintergreen oil worked as brutally as her shoes. I sweated and squirmed.

She stepped on my scrotal sac. She just stood there. My body did all of her work for her as the oil left me writhing. Tonight there wasn’t any pity, hardly any recognition. She just watched.

Day 7 This is the seventh day. I’m at work. Sometime tonight I’ll be free. But before I am I’ll be given another chance to perform.

What will she do if I don’t. And I won’t.

She could be kind and just let me free.

But I don’t think she will.

Tonight I think she’ll need to make rougher than the nights before. Tomorrow she’ll be loving again.

Will she crush me, kick me? Will it be like that night she composed her “Polyphony of Pain”� and used every whip, flogger and strap in the house at least once?

She’s had plenty of time to weigh her options, make her choices. She could just forgive and forget. But something deep inside me says she won’t.