Hello sparse readers. And by sparse, I mean SPARSE. But that is okay. I do zero advertising of this blog. Truly. I have done so little advertising that I am actually in the anti advertisement zone. This is by design. I began this as a writing space to put my thoughts to paper. It also has given Mistress, and a few of you, insights into the things that I cannot say aloud or could not have spoken aloud. I have mentioned a few times that I build my own barriers, or should I say, I support the obstacles that I have allowed others to create for me. It is tough as a male submissive in a male-driven society. We have expectations as males to be “manly” and not a pussy. Submit to no one should be the manly man motto. And here I am, kneeling at the feet of a dominant woman, submitting to her power, and enduring her wrath. I have zero complaints.
The actual conversation is about the big orgasm. You know, the only that you have after the hours-long play session and your Mistress decides you are allowed to release. Euphoria! I mean, I have convulsed after one of those events. Well, as you may know, I am on an orgasm drought until at least September since I made some poor bets against Mistress. I feel like this has been her trial run for long-term tease and denial sessions. What used to be teasing for a few hours and then the big O turned into teasing for a few days and then the big O. Now, the big O is still months away and has been unreachable for the past three months. I mean, approximately 12 weeks since I have had the big orgasm.
Mistress completed her first ruined orgasm a few weeks back, leaving me with an epic case of blue balls. I was introduced, taught, and experienced this very act all within five minutes for those not knowledgeable about the topic. We had a rather deep session that night when Mistress turned me over and said, “I want to try something. I have to practice this anyway.” Now, I have learned to not turn anything down from Mistress. The position she rolled me into may have signaled that she would give me a reprieve from my drought. She sat up on her bed, and her hands did God’s work. It didn’t take long after weeks of play and denial and then our deep session we just experienced. As the extravagant event took place, she abruptly stopped as my climatic eruption piddled all over me in a dismal motion. Instantly, my balls ached, and I pleaded for Mistress to continue. The grin I was met with was not the one that allows me to continue. I rolled from side to side in frustration as the main event quickly disappeared in the night. Content with herself, Mistress arose from her bed and got dressed at, end of the session. It took me a few minutes to reel myself from the ache and the disbelief.
My continuation of rambling about orgasms. Cumming inside my Mistress is powerful. I mean, that is where semen belongs, biologically speaking. Then men have the opportunity to have their women suck them off like a golf ball through a garden hose and then shoot their load down their throat. Actual power move, in my opinion. Almost like men are making a deposit in the women, they release their load into. But to have your orgasm controlled to a point where you build to the moment only to sputter through the finish line while your Mistress slowly giggles is demeaning. The event is maintenance, so I don’t end up with prostate problems or something. It isn’t even for pleasure but just to ensure good health. You would think I am building up to complain and say that “this isn’t fair”, or “she needs to give me mine.” I am not making that proclamation. I hereby say I just love it. She takes what she wants. She does what she wants. And I will follow her to the end of the earth sputtering along the way. But, it still is demeaning.
One last thing before I log off for the evening. Mistress made a new friend. He is a male dominant that I swear could be her twin, not by looks, but in thoughts, likes, and needs. I am sure that I am in store for some exciting things in the coming months. Stay tuned.
Kneeling Kitty 