Thursday, 29 March 2012

Twitter Ruined My Orgasm

I like wanking.

Everybody likes wanking, wanking is brilliant. Alas when you’ve spent ten years being a kinky sod, your wanks get kinkier too.

Yesterday I took delivery of a package of NOS bottles, the little pods that you screw into a whipped cream canister to make your cream get whippy. It’s also of course laughing gas, and one of my favourite things to play with.

Coupled with poppers, which like wanking are BRILLIANT, you get a really rather fantastic rush from inhalation. (If you haven’t done NOS before, please read to the end before you try.)

So there I am, horny. Sniffed up plenty of poppers and my head is going a bit Outhere Brothers (boom boom boom, way-yooo etc etc), I’ve preloaded a bottle into the dispenser, and I exhale deeply. Hold my nose, and WHOOSH, inhale the full pod. Aaaand hold.

So as I get tingly, and the boom boom boom starts to reverb until it’s just a noise like an idling engine, I’m wanking, loving the altered sensations across my body. Everything is numb yet feels amazing. NOS is a powerful dissociative anaesthetic, and sure enough the vision starts to go along with the hearing. I keep wanking in NOS induced sensory deprivation, and it feels amazing.. (PLEASE read the bottom before trying this. PLEASE.)

I’m writhing around in total pleasure, then I feel something unlike anything else as yet. I feel something damp. I’ve cum. I think... Have I cum? So it begins...

It feels like I’ve cum, I think to myself, "but that was really weird. It was like it wasn’t actually an orgasm at all, but it was. Like something blocked it, but my body responded to everything. I still can’t see properly so I’m not sure, maybe I’ve cum, maybe I haven’t.. maybe I should just keep wanking, I don’t quite need air just yet. NO I’m pretty sure I’ve cum. I don’t think that damp would be there for any other reason, could it? Maybe I’m just feeling things that aren’t there. Ehh, I think I should probably breathe now." *breathes*

"OH LOOK AT ME WAFFLING. That’s just typical. Your whole body is coursing with dopamine, having an absolutely mindbending experience with unparallelled effects and you’re having a conversation in your own head with yourself about whether that was an orgasm or not. Just enjoy the wank you stupid bugger, shut up and focus on the fact you should probably be gasping with pleasure right now, not talking to yourself."

"Hahaha. That would make a good blogpost that would. Wait? What? I’m still apparently in the throes of ejaculation and you’re thinking about BLOGPOSTS?"

"HA. That REALLY WILL be an awesome subject for a blogpost. I can’t wait to get this out on Twitter. I wonder what the subject should be?"

"Twitter, wha?? Damnit. Damnit you. You bring shame to this orgasm."

"I suppose I should clean up and type this up or something."


Aaaaand here I am.

CURSE YOU TWITTER AND THE INTERNET. (And my brain, let’s not forget my inappropriately waffly brain.)

If you’re interested about NOS, PLEASE read below.


Okay, so you’ve read that blogpost, had a giggle, and then some of you are still probably thinking ‘that sounds fucking ace to try’.

You would be correct, it is. It is also however very dangerous to do if you’re not clued up. I am NOT going to tell you ‘how to take NOS’, as I don’t want to be responsible for you buggering yourself over by reading directions incorrectly. All I can say is the following things that you should NOT do:

Until you know your limits, and the effects on your body, do NOT use NOS alone. This means trying it with someone, and noting mentally what happens when right up to the point you feel you won’t want to adventure past. (This is likely to be the bit where you need air.)

Until you know your limits, and the effects on your body, do NOT mix NOS with the effects of anything else whilst playing alone. NOS is an anaesthetic, just because you don’t feel it as strongly, whatever else you are playing with (poppers included) are still working just as hard on you.
NEVER, NEVER, NEVER EVER *EVER* obstruct your airways when playing with NOS. The single most important thing when playing is that when you need to gasp for air, you do, right there and then. If you can’t take that gasp of air, you’re pretty much fucked. Needless to say the very idea of obstructing your airways and playing with NOS alone is a fast track to a Darwinian end.

I have been doing breathplay for years, many many years. As a result I’m very good at regulating how I use my air, and I can go for a lot longer than a lot of people. Everybody is different. You may find you need to gasp before you start losing the senses, if you have to gasp GASP. I can take it to a ridiculous extreme, but I know where I stand at each and every point. If you don’t, don’t do it, don’t kill yourself trying to reach an effect your body can’t physically get you to.

NOS is brilliant fun, with an amazing sensation, but it IS dangerous. It IS an anaesthetic that when administered without oxygen as a blend will asphyxiate you very very quickly. Have fun, but for fucks’s sake be careful.

- Boy

Friday, 17 June 2011


Today I want to talk about one facet of my slaveboy 'being'. One that I want to talk about because it is fast becoming more and more a part of me, and it's quite exciting.

I'm of course talking about my pup side. What started as a basic enjoyment of dehumanisation and playfulness has come to be a whole section of my mind, one that is steadily infusing with who I am, and into my subconscious.
Pupspace, as I will call it, is a state of mind in which I feel total submission, it is one I can access instantly (unlike the wonderful world of subspace and it's glazed-over-trance-like-sex-robotiness, which needs a bit of work) and I find even the smallest dip into it almost intoxicating.
Sir fully supports the fact his boy is very happy being on all fours growling playfully, and appears to enjoy having me in a docile (well more docile than usual) state and playing.
Being in pupspace is refreshing, wonderful escapism. I lead a fairly hectic life with shift work and long hours, to enter into pupspace gets away from it all.
Whilst in it, my demeanour is that of simple, playful, loving submission. I love being in bed with Sir, being stroked, petted and having nice things said to me. A happy bark in reply. Having my tum tickled, and all the other things you'd generally do to a puppy. Yes, I'm 26, I'm hardly the youngest pup, but it's not about age, I don't find myself choosing how I react in pupspace, and my manner is that of a very very playful pup. I make Sir smile as he plays with me, and that's just what a pup should do.

Yesterday I added my penultimate thing to my pup 'gear' collection, that when complete will make me feel completely 100% kinky puppy through and through (the final item being a pup tail plug to poke through my rubber). Yesterday I fulfilled desires I've had for a few years, and finally shelled out a fair bit of cash on a premium lockable rubber muzzle. Five straps, pulled tight this puppy can't even bark quietly. It's heavily muffled mmphs at best. I LOVE it.

Sir strapped me into it before bed last night, him on the sofa, me on the pupbed beneath him. I felt truly at peace (so did Sir, given I rarely shut up and now couldn't utter a sound), I got up onto all fours, nuzzling his leg, a scratch behind the ears, and loving look into my eyes, and some comforting petting. Absolute perfection.
I can't wait to try it with my mitts (a brilliant present from Sir). Muzzled up, locked, on all fours, mitts locked on, perhaps in rubber, unable to say a thing, played with for a while, then locked in the cage for a few hours, left to curl up and just be left with my puppy thoughts.
Once muzzled or in any pupgear I find it almost upsetting to bring myself out of pupspace, my pupside doesnt like to be ignored, especially by me. Once i set him free he wont go away, its his time. I know that in the cage, kept like that, my pupspace wouldn't break. I'd just be there padding about, quietly growling and never being bored despite being unable to touch or do anything at all. In my place , where i belong, I could never be anything other than happy.

I've recently been excited hugely (which spurred on the desire to get this muzzle now) as Sir put forward the suggestion that I am kept as pup almost by default. He enjoys having me as this concentrated version of my personality, my loving caring attitude focused to the point of everything else being eclipsed in favour of showing total devotion to Sir, one that will do anything to make him smile and receive those heartfluttering words 'good puppy'.

I love hearing 'good boy', those words too make me fuzzy inside, but 'good puppy' triggers the attention seeking bouncy pupboy in the back of my mind, he's pretty new so when he gets acknowledged he gets excited. I love being called pup/puppy, and I especially love when it's preceded with the word 'good'.
So as I say, he's planning to keep me in pupspace a lot more. He reckons it'll keep me more obediently submissive on a day to day basis, and since I'm his slave 24/7, permanent obedience is required, and yes.. It's no secret that I do test his patience sometime, and this change in how i am kept is sure to make me very much the perfect obedient boy. Of course he loves a bit of cheek, so do I.. My boy is a very cheeky boy, but I love him all the more for having that personality, and it comes across so incredibly cute, especially when he's hiding and swiftly apologising!
I'm of course versatile, and while I'd say I manage the fact I'm both 24/7 slave AND an attentive dominant master to my boy, there are times when one will affect the other. These are my cheeky times. After a visit from the boy, and having been dominant most of time, I invariably end up being that bit more cheeky towards Sir.
Bringing this new pup regime into place, ordering me onto all fours (which is enough to drop me into pupspace as it is), muzzling me, putting me in my mitts, playing with and teasing me, before locking me away a while will be pretty effective in telling me who is boss, and putting me in the mindset where I don't want to be cheeky.
When we get our next place with just the two of us, Sir has told me I'm going to be experiencing a further shift towards absolute slavery, in that I'll basically become his housepuppy.. A cross between houseboy and puppy, where I shall be doing the domestic duties, and spending much of the rest of the time caged up while Sir goes about his evening.

I personally cannot wait. Every step is a step closer to living out my wildest dreams. Ruff ruff!

Please do comment, I hope that these blogs are interesting, arousing (wait til i post pics!) and that they do give an insight into the mind of a boy for whom this is not all a bit of adventurous fun, a bit of kinky sex.. But for whom this is life. I live for Sir and my boy, and I couldn't be happier.

Pup x

Location:On a train!

Saturday, 7 May 2011

A day in rubber

I've been a sleazy pup recently, and I thought it about time to actually blog again.

I had one day off last week, and I wanted to make it a fun one. So I requested to Sir that he give me orders for my day.

Sure enough before he heads off to work I'm presented with a typed list of orders. First: Go for a bikeride in Lycra, plug and while nipple clamped. Unfortunately that same morning my bike got nicked, so I had to use a Boris bike. Except the machines wouldn't accept my card. Good start. With the clamps beginning to hurt I decided just to jog back home, got back.. Ow ow ow. Clamps off.
After a while of chatting to my boy, I then went to the next orders, magnificently started with 'put on full latex'. I scanned down the sheet, no mention of it coming back off again. Awesome.
After sorting out the bike theft etc my day was running behind so at this point I decided it'd soon be lunch.
I suited up in my black and silver suit, black socks and gloves, leaving hood and mask for the time being.
I was ordered that before lunch I have a dildo fuck, using the big dildos. I worked myself up to them and took it quite merrily, also left for me was the thick anal balls dildo thing, 50cm of thick black rubber with five 'balls' moulded along the length. I put the first two in no problem, the third went with a bit of persuasion, felt SO good. Okay, the fourth.. I pushed and moved it around, and pop, in it went.. FUUUUCK. The sensation was amazing but also completely unbearable, I had to get them out. Four pops later and I was laying shaking after quite the anal assault. Time for a delicate boy's lunch. Pizza.
Post pizza it was chores time. Clean the living room and bedroom, sort the socks, fold all the clean washing, all in full rubber. On went the gasmask and hood. Instant erection as I became 100% coverage.
I got on with my chores, building up a nice sweat and getting ridiculously horny. With Sir due home at 7, and the time being 5, and an order reading 'reclamp nipples for minimum two hours' I sent a text to Sir and duly clamped them. Ow. Still tender from before...
I managed 40 minutes before the agony became unbearable. I text Sir pleading for release, ten desperate minutes pass, two more texts, when I get a reply.. Yes! I take them off gently and still they cause me to yelp, dug in as far as they were.

The final part of the orders involved a mystery package that may or not arrive. To my delight it did that lunchtime. More to my delight the package was a pair of supercomfy padded lockable pup mitts.
My orders were to put them on and lock myself in the cage to await Sir, I was still putting the mitts on as Sir arrived. He helped me in, locked them on and I instantly felt amazing.
Here I was, head to toe rubber, gasmasked, pup mitted on all fours, caged under my Master's control. A rush of blissful happiness came over me, I was how I always felt I should be. Total rubberpuppy. Sir reached through the bars, stroked and ran his fingers up the rubber, tickled me behind the ears and scritched the back of neck. Pupspace kicked in 100%, I lost the power to talk, barking contentedly, nuzzling Sir's leg through the bars. He reached and unzipped my nipple zips, and twisted my already tortured and sore nips. I couldn't complain, I just whimpered, like a puppy wanting out to play. It hurt, and I whined, Sir petted me. Good puppy.

All is perfect.

My head is locked through the headhole in the front, my head scritched and given my Master's loving attention. He needs to shower, I'm released back into the cage, my gasmask removed, his feet presented. I serve them willingly.
Earlier I cheekily got the piss sheath out for recycle play later on perhaps, Sir mentions he needs a piss. I nod towards the sheath, and lick my lips playfully. To my surprise he takes me up on it, and soon I am gagged, plumbed to my Master's cock. A while passes, I feel something in my mouth, a cold splash, the first taste. It was a drop he managed earlier that made it's way down. It's strong, I wince but swallow.
Soon after the back of my mouth fills, this is it, I'm bring used as Sir's toilet. The ultimate submission. It feels amazing, it's so string, tastes vile, but I gulp it down. Every drop. Good puppy.

Awesome day. I shall continue later with my descent into pisspup.

boy/pup x

Thursday, 21 October 2010

Welcome home, boy.

It has been quite some time since I updated this blog. A combination of long working hours, and no longer taking the Piccadilly Line (formerly my writing time) has resulted in me putting it on standby.
Alas my car is bust, and I'm back on the trains. So it'd be rude not to, wouldn't it?

When I took on my slave three months ago, I knew that I'd have to lose him to the other side of the world for 12 long months. On meeting I knew he'd be worth the wait, and duly tagged him as my own.

He was meant to be away for a year in Japan, tearful farewells a few weeks ago and I knew I wouldn't be domming, or hugging my boy for a long time to come.
That was until he decided that Japan was a mistake, he didn't know why he'd gone, it was going to cost huge amounts of money, and he was missing home hugely.
He falls back out of the sky into the UK later today! Which is awesome!

Ludicrously busy at work I'm unlikely to see him for more than a day next week, but still.. It will be an awesome day.

I didn't have a huge amount to say for this post, more a little thing to say that I'm still alive, and that life on the whole is still perfect. Can't wait to see my slaveboy again!

Boy x

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Location:On a train near Gatwick Airport

Sunday, 1 August 2010


I sit here grinning away following a fantastic scene my Master set me up in. Pictures were taken so I thought I'd share what happened with a few horny shots.

We actually did two scenes, the first was a test mainly for Master to see if he could still do heavy rope bondage with lots of lovely knots, and also a test for the cheap rope we got to see if it was any good. He sent me to plug myself first of all, it has been a long long time since anything was up there for long, and it took a while to get in and used to. I returned to the room and a few minutes later and my body is bound into an armbinder known as the 'dragonfly':

From this I was then bundled into the cage, put on my knees, my head locked into the cage door, and my arms raised. I was kept like this for a short while, but unfortunately this boy does not have the best joints in his knees, and a short while was all it was...

The next scene was to be more long term, and painful in a good way. First Sir introduced me to the catspaw, the method of binding wrists so you can pull all you want and they won't tighten, but the knot cannot be undone once pulled taut from the other end.

I was first rubber hooded and blindfolded, then placed with my back up against one side of the cage bars, my legs spread apart and cuffed so they could not be brought together, my balls parachuted with my spiked leather parachute. This was then hooked with some rope up to the top of the cage, pulled over and secured along with my throat and chest to the cage bars, I could no longer lean forwards, and my balls were being pulled fairly hard with the spikes digging in.

My arms were then pulled to either side of the cage at the other end and secured so they could not be loosened.

Blind, balls stretched, unable to do much more than wriggle back and forth, and lift my legs up and down the bars... horny as fuck, and looks it too ;)

i was left for a good long while, I have no idea how long, but it was definitely an hour at least. My balls steadily got more and more unbearable, burning and pulling constantly.. but I just couldn't get enough! Thrashing about in my bondage, unable to see a thing, felt awesome.. knowing that even if I did get out of it all, I was still locked inside my cage. Feeling very very imprisoned, and loving every moment.

After a long while I begged Sir to put clamps on my nipples for a further focus, once on I thrashed around even more, in total heaven, it felt amazing the pain all over... but gradually the nipples calmed off, and I was left with the burning balls sensation once again. Sir returned shortly afterwards only to remove the clamps, then put them back on again, just on the ends, right on the tips.

Oh my god. OH MY GOD.

I couldn't stop moaning, over and over, thrashing about, pulling at my bonds, in absolute ecstasy and unable to touch a thing. SO frustrating.. Sir returned a while later and laughed at how rock hard I was. I honestly couldn't get harder, my cock straining at the parachute, and my balls jammed full into the spikes. This only made me hornier!

A while later I begged Sir to let me cum, and make me stay in the torture after I came for ten minutes. I was in true maso mode, I needed pain, I needed torture. Sure enough Sir wanked me off, to the point I was pretty much screaming as I came, over and over, he took it further, kept wanking me, I was totally out of breath, head swimming, unable to think or do a thing. He let go, 'see you in fifteen minutes boy.'

Ow. Almost instantly my nipples woke up, OW, my balls woke up. Everything was on fire... FUCK FUCK FUCK THAT HURTS! I struggled for what seemed like an eternity, Sir came in 'just to let you know, that was 5 minutes.'

I couldn't take more, I struggled yet more and more, eventually using my comically dexterous feet while straining with the leg cuffs to slowly feed a tiny amount of rope through one of the loops, it took a good while, but determined I managed to work a tiny gap, through which I could hook a toe, and continue to feed through with another toe (yes they really are that capable) while pulling out my wrist.

Once one wrist was free, it was only a moment or two before I was able to remove most things, Sir was alerted with the sound of the hood removed, he helped me out, as I grinned away.

Fucking hot.

Oh and the plug is still in.

Hehehe. Do drop a comment :)

Boy x

Wednesday, 28 July 2010


I've spent 25 years on this planet, and nearly all of those I could whatever the hell I liked, knowing that pure fat and salt seemed to magically converted into more space to eat more pies. I could eat two fudge cakes and lose weight, it was ace.

Until the past few months, the past few months I could inhale and gain half a pound from the dust. My metabolism has clearly decided that now I'm quarter of a century old, that being enviably lithe with the appetite of a medium sized shark is no longer a priority.
Nope, now the appetite rages on, but so does the waistline.

Action was required, and this is what this blog post, and subsequent updates will cover.

I want to be fit, I want my Master to be proud of his boy, to have a nice bod that people won't run screaming from at the pool. I want to fill a tanktop without a small wobbly moon hanging out of the bottom.

For this I need Sir's help, my willpower in the face of a double cheeseburger is somewhat limited. I could quite merrily replace oxygen with KFC on an average day. This boy needed rules.

And rules he got.

No fast food, no crisps, chocolate, pizza, cheese and other fatty dairy, no pies, no pasties, nothing high in saturates, no sugary puddings. At the time I dismissed this as leaving me with little else to eat besides 'clouds and air'.
The truth is, in three months I've managed to pretty much constantly follow this whilst having a highly nommable diet. Yes, I could merrily sell my own legs for a Big Mac, but the only thing I've had from the golden arches have been a few consented milkshakes.

Sushi, fruit, low fat yoghurt, wholemeal sandwiches, salad, light wraps, more sushi, lots of chicken, pastas and I'm not dead. I'm happy, I've watched myself get better. It's ace.

I started with watermelon syndrome, hiding a large oval fruit over my belly under my top. My abs disappeared, my hips got grabflab. It was rubbish, I didn't have scales but I must have been well over 13 stone, verging 14.
As a boy who was 10st10 for YEARS this is somewhat alarming. I bought scales last week, assuming since I'd lost loads of weight and the last time I'd weighed myself I was 12st7, I'd bought them primarily for the smugness factor of seeing 11 stone something once again.

Step on. 12 stone 10. Whoa, okay? That was not expected. I was the heaviest I'd ever been, and I could visibly see where I had lost the weight back off again. Thank christ I didn't have scales during my watermelon era. I think I'd have bought Bulemia for Beginners.

So here I am, feeling better, until this morning. I weighed myself. 12 stone 13. Sir let me have fried chicken as a treat on Monday, that had clearly laid several eggs inside me and hatched chickens made out of lead cholesterol. Bastards.

So that's where I am, if I eat anything fattier than water I gain weight. The depressing truth is, it's time to calorie count. Fuck you body!

I start a new job in a week, and with it comes a lot more freedom, and a lot less lethargy. So it'll be time for phase two (which currently would kill me)... EXERCISE.

We'll see how that goes shall we?

Boy x

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Sunday, 25 July 2010

A new acquisition

It's been some time since I last updated. Main reason being I've been working such a huge amount that my usual blogging time, the tube home, has been spent napping without exception. Back once again though, and plan to update regularly once again.

So, a major development has occurred. I have been hunting for a slavepet for a good 8/9 months, since Sir gave me permission to take on a boy of my own.

After several false starts, subs that lose interest, and boys who suddenly end up in relationships, I've finally got my boy.

And what a boy! He turns 20 in two days, incredibly cute and never stops smiling. A mere 5'6 which just makes him that much more adorable.
When we first spoke he was just into the idea of play, and felt that ownership was not for him. I asked him why, and his responses revealed he followed the popular misconception people have of M/S relationships. The slave has no freewill, his life is controlled, used for the pleasure of his master, that his life as he knows it will be altered heavily and that it all sounded a bit distressing and too much for him.

Of course some masters DO operate like that, and there are of course slaves for whom that is what they want.

It wasn't what he wanted though, and nor was it what I wanted. I steadily assured him I take ownership to care, train and offer security and companionship to my boy, and that more important than my direct pleasure, was his. A happy boy makes a happy master.
After talking a huge amount and realising just how perfectly matched my wish for a slave was to his vision of a perfect master, we arranged a meet.

Four days before the meet happened however, the surprise Master had been teasing me about all week came to light. I had no honest clue what it was. Blindfolded on the bed I waited, told to remove my blindfold I looked to see the boy knelt beside me, he was my surprise. Grinning up at me I instantly hugged him tight, and didn't let go for ages! It really was the perfect surprise, and one I had not expected at all, as they'd both planned it together and threw me way off the scent!
We had a wonderful evening, and he stayed the night. Managed to miss his train but otherwise it couldn't have gone better. The sight of him collared in the cage, smiling contentedly through the bars was wonderfully heartwarming. I finally had a boy, and he was clearly overjoyed to be owned.
Fast forward three weeks and another meet later, and he's just been ordered to buy his first bit of gear, an orca wetsuit in a very small and tight size. Provided it fits he's gonna look amazing!

Next meet the 4th. Can't wait! Will update more shortly but the news needed to be told. :)

Boy x

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone