subscribe
The Most Beautiful Nightmare You'll Never Have…
Lifestyle Domme & Mistress

She relishes my hurt

slave-diaries

12 April 2015

Mistress

I’m fully aware that much about me has changed over the last 3 months, both physically and mentally. Some of these will purely be the result of my chastity and others down to the powerful and unique femdom dynamic in which I find myself . My chastity and the dynamic are, in any case, irrevocably linked.  They are without doubt dramatic changes. The most dramatic changes have evolved slowly. Whether such changes are complete or are to evolve further, only time will tell.

For as long as I can remember I have chosen to deny myself sexual release for long periods of time. I can’t explain why. It is perhaps an automatic feature of submission. Cumming and orgasm represent release and the ultimate sexual pleasure and the submissive, or at least submissives like myself, probably interpret denial of pleasure as a self punishment. Of course, I still had control. I would arouse myself like anyone else. Pictures, sounds, thoughts would trigger the need to masturbate and arouse as they do most individuals. The only difference is that I would choose not to fully release but take myself to the edge. I had to be very much in control and had to use that very control to prevent ejaculation. Stopping when nature is demanding those final edges of stimulation takes a great deal of self control.

I no longer have that control, or indeed any control, as far as my sexuality is concerned.

An outsider might assume that, once released from a long period of chastity, the male would have more difficulty in preventing an erection and ejaculation than actually having them.  In my case however, during the first period I was released, I was commanded to cum  and I had great difficulty in doing so. Whether it was caused by the chastity itself or by her mental and psychological destruction of my male sexual ego, I will never know.

On that occasion I could only cum with the aid of nipple stimulation and I’m not sure that my cock became erect before I spurted. In fact my inability to get an erection when released and allowed to wank during a recent session would lead me to suspect that, for me, an erection is a thing of the past.

Nipple stimulation is itself a major revelation that has appeared during the last 3 months. They have often, in my past,  been the subject of torture and can be highly sensitive either when initially clamped or when the blood flows back into them immediately after release. Sensitive they have proved to be, but never before stimulating. They have not only taken on this new role but have come to the fore. They are my main, most effective means of arousal. It is for that very reason that I feel a compelling need to hand control of them to my Mistress. To be touched and stimulated, when and only when, she deems it appropriate.

Nipple stimulation will, in any case, with my cock imprisoned, merely result in arousal and not release. As I shall try to explain later in this email, the arousal I now feel and experience is palpably different to the arousal previously experienced.

Physically and mentally I feel like a eunuch in the broader sense of its definition. My cock and testicles remain intact but their relevance has been eradicated.

I had assumed that I was experienced as a submissive. However, experience has nothing to do with numbers, amounts or time, it is to do with emotions, senses and feelings. In that respect I have no previous experience with regard slavery of the nature in which I am now immersed.

Previously I have always hidden behind a wall of acceptance. I have never envisaged any sexual intercourse between myself and a domme. By accepting it I completely excluded it from my desires and longings. There was never any real sense of denial. There was of course tease and denial, but that was merely the physical teasing of my cock and the denial of sexual release.

With this Goddess it is different. Very early in our dynamic she made me fully aware that this false wall of acceptance had to be demolished. Did I find her beautiful? Yes I did. Did I find her stunningly beautiful? Yes I did. Surely therefore you desire to fuck her? Surely I do. Her restriction on physical contact goes far beyond those of previous Mistresses so the impossibility of me fucking her is even more pronounced.

Merely to accept denial bears none of the emotional torment when compared to desiring and being denied. It still doesn’t come naturally to desire to fuck her. When in her presence I will sometimes look at her and her phenomenal beauty will sweep over me. I know that faced with such beauty my natural desire should be to desire to possess and consume it and that should normally mean a desire to fuck her. I am sometimes aware that I have to make a specific effort to remove the mental wall that springs up at such times. I demolish it fairly easily and my mind is allowed to relish the prize that can never be. When this now happens, I will allow my brain and body to embrace that thought intensely. As I do so it hurts, not just emotionally but also physically.  It is that hurt she relishes. She is both a psychological and physical sadist and my pain and suffering pleases her. I exist to please her, so, although she may not be aware of my suffering at that time, I cling on to that pain and torment, wrap myself around it and intensify the hurt and ache as much as I possibly can.

Throughout this period she has sought to destroy my masculine pride. In fact, to be her slave, from the very start I had to swallow the fact that I am not a man. She dredges vanity, ego, pride and dignity from her slaves. Vanity, ego and pride can be negative emotions in any sphere, but dignity? Surely the destruction of dignity is unjust and cruel. Of course it is cruel. She is deliciously cruel and evil. It is part of her fabric and an essential component that makes her the divine Goddess that she is.

The destruction of pride, vanity, ego and dignity involves education as well as intent. Initially there was resistance to this process. I am certain my humility is a long way from her requirements and there is still a long way to go. Despite my willingness to embrace this desire of my Goddess, it is difficult.

My Mistress is on a pedestal and every word she says or types are sacrosanct. Her humiliating comments, her “put downs”, her comparison of me with real men all hurt to the core. They are meant to. The pain amuses her and they also scrape away at my stubborn but weakening dignity. Each step is similar to being in a sauna that is getting hotter and hotter. Her cutting remarks are like water on the coals. The heat immediately rises and initially I cannot bear it. I am forced to leave the heat of the sauna. Experience now tells me that I merely need a moments respite from the emotional impact of this further step to complete humility. It hurts, I tell myself I cannot bear it and then the very pain and hurt induced by her cruelty causes a profound and powerful sexual arousal. I acquiesce and return to the heat and await the next ladle of water to be put on the coals.

The sexual arousal that is created by the real sense of denial, the arousal induced by humiliation and the arousal cajoled through nipple  stimulation are identical and although it bears some similarity to the sexual arousal I’ve experienced in my life to date it is also notably different. Physically it surfaces through my cock and balls but it appears to radiate from a spot deeper inside my pelvis.

The arousal interweaves itself with the intense pain of denial and humiliation. I seek to magnify the pain. I can only tolerate the pain, torment and suffering through this arousal, and the arousal feeds from the suffering and torment. I’m aware I exist to please her. I know that her evil would delight in my pain and, although I’m mindful that she may not be aware of my inner agonies, I must suffer them just the same. At times like these my worship of her is beyond description.

On Friday night her last text stung me. A mere throw away comment, even probably said jokingly. It was however, more hurtful by its truth. It reminded me of my inadequacies although such reminders should no longer be necessary. It hurt and I sulked. I took myself away from the sting, out of the sauna. Within a very short time I was aware, as I have now been numerous times before, that I had to embrace the hurt. It is what she would want and as her slave I should not seek to deny her wants. In order to embrace the hurt however I feel the need to magnify it. I can’t explain why. I liken it to scratching an itch. I recall the worst of her humiliations. I am revolting, repulsive and worthless. I repeat it in my mind. I need it, I want it, I get off on it. The arousal intensifies and I wallow in my denial and humiliation with the intent of suffering even more. My sulk lasts a mere minute or two but my arousal and pain will linger for hours.

As we left London on Tuesday, she remarked about the surreal nature of her meeting. A business discussion involving the niceties of female masturbation. Her comments highlighted my position and feelings as a slave and eunuch.  As she spoke the London streets we drove through were full of people making their way home. I could not help but view them through their sexuality. Women who, for just a few pounds, can choose from a selection of masturbation aids to suite their needs and preferences. Men who can turn to porn or any other stimulation to invokes sexual arousal and release. All of these may that night, a night later in the week, some or every night or day that week fuck or be fucked by their partners. Sex plays a main part, and in her world, the most significant part, of the human persona. In that regard I am excluded and an outsider. My sexuality now harnessed purely to ensure my servitude to her.

As we drove towards the outskirts of London, the seed sown with her comment about the meeting flourished. I become far more conscious of my cage, my dumbed cock, my engorged testicles squeezed between the ring and cage of the device still stinging from her punishment of the previous night. To see myself to be excluded as an outsider and irrelevant in the world of sexuality hurt emotionally, as all humiliation and denial has hurt me. I was in her presence and I could not, indeed would not, extract myself from the situation. I immediately embraced that pain. I gave myself to it. Wrapped myself around it. Intensified it and longed to suffer it.  I prostrated myself to my lowliness and worthlessness.

We stopped at a services as she was in need of refreshment. My worship and awe of her, significantly enhanced by my emotional state and the pain induced arousal, was now monumental. I was concerned by the practical issues resulting from the constant seep of pre-cum but did not let it distract me from what I saw as my duty to worship and serve her.  We later stopped for a meal and the intense feeling triggered by her, possibly unwittingly, as we left London had not abated. I sat opposite her, immersing myself in every facet of her beauty and her power. The sight and sound of every human being in that restaurant, from waitresses to customers, served as a constant reminder of my exclusion. An exclusion I had to embrace to be her slave and I cannot imagine myself being other than that.

She became my precious cargo. I had to deliver her safely back to the bosom of her family, her children and her real man. She was tired and she rested. I absorbed the pain of humiliation and denial and draped myself around the smarting, raw, tender and throbbing  arousal that they induce.

slave penny

Leave a Reply

Leave a Reply

Follow Me