#like i was reading blue period but like it seemed real good so i put off reading it

[ekanatsume]

Gon watch dungeon meshi tmrw ☝️😩 OH AND READ BLUE PERIOD

[dira333]

Assistant to the Hero Part II - Amajiki x Reader

Requested and beta'd by @fuzztacular , Part of my Follower Celebration

Part I - Masterlist

3,5 Months as his assistant

There are no more gifts on your desk.

Instead, you find them in front of your room at the most random of times.

One of your favorites, a blue piece of sea glass, sits next to your coffee cup one morning.

Amajiki’s sitting at the table just a few steps away, finishing his breakfast.

“Thank you.” You say, picking up the sea glass. He must have put it there while you went to the bathroom.

“It reminded me of you.” He says, voice almost calm.

“Because I’m blue?” You tease and hold it in front of your left eye as if to look through.

“It’s rare.” He says instead, a distant look in his eyes you cannot place.

-

Amajiki places a DVD on your desk just after lunch.

You glance down at the cover and back up to him.

“Where did you get that?”

“Mirio’s girlfriend lent it to me.”

“Why?”

He shrugs, blushing. “I told her you wanted to see it. It’s for movie night.”

“We can’t always watch what I want to see. You gotta pick the next one.”

He nods, a little smile pulling at his lips.

-

“Here.” You grab two Bento Boxes from the Fridge and present them to Amajiki. “I made us Lunch.”

“Oh?” He opens one of the Boxes. “Octopus sausage?”

“I’ll put the real thing in next time. You just have to tell me when you want Lunch and when you want to eat out, okay?”

“Yeah.” That little smile is back and you wish you could look at it a little while longer without being a creep.

-

It’s Tuesday and you’re on the Couch, hot water bottle on your stomach, chocolate open on the table in front of you.

Amajiki freezes in the doorway. “Did something happen?” He asks, whispering.

“Huh?” You look up from your book, sniffling. “Oh, no, I’m just… I’m on my period and I’m reading this book… This part is just really sad.”

“Why? What happened?”

“There’s this dog… His owner had a pet-food shop but died and he’s defending the shop in case his owner comes back…”

“And?” Amajiki’s now standing next to the Couch, peering down at you anxiously.

“The bad guys just destroyed the shop.”

“Oh no.” 

“Yeah.” You nod, wiping your eyes. “But there’s this guy, he’s a little silly, but he means well, and I think he’s going to help the dog take revenge.”

“Is he?”

“I don’t know yet, I’ve just read this, listen…”

When the chapter ends and your voice is hoarse from reading, the dog’s fate is still not decided.

It might be your Hormones speaking, but Amajiki seems interested in its fate just as much as you are so you pat the spot next to you and urge him to come closer, hold the book out so that both of you can read at once.

When it does end happy, you sink back into the cushions with a happy sigh.

“That was a good book.” Amajiki mumbles next to you.

“It was.” You hum happily, sleep pulling you in. “Do you read too?”

“Yeah.”

“What kind of stuff?” You close your eyes as you speak. Just for a second, to rest your eyes, you tell yourself.

“I can show you next time.” He offers and you nod.

“Next Tuesday, kay?” You mumble, words a little slurred.

-

4,5 Months as his assistant

You’re in the middle of making Dinner when Amajiki comes home from the gym.

“I’m going to shower.” He says right after greeting, shuffling off to the bathroom.

“Kay, but don’t take too long. I’m making Takoyaki.”

-

Dinner is the time when Amajiki is the least nervous. 

He’s usually focused on his food, doesn’t have to listen, doesn’t have to look at you and you can’t help but use this to your advantage.

It’s the only time you really get to look at him, at the little satisfied smile that curls around his lips when he likes the food or how his nose scrunches up when he’s not that fond of it. He doesn’t have the biggest appetite, but with his quirk, he likes to try new things.

Tonight, his hair is still wet from the shower, a floppy, dark mess that’s only parted by his ears.

Your eyes find them eventually, and not for the first time you wonder if they’re sensitive. They remind you of cats ears and the thought of him as a little Neko has you dig into your food, trying to calm your racing heart.

“Do you want to go out for Lunch tomorrow?” Amajiki asks, voice a little shaky.

When you look up, surprised by his sudden question, the tips of his ears are red and a blush is working its way onto his face.

“I didn’t make a Bento Box yet, so if you want to eat out, that’s no problem.”

“No, I mean, yes… but, do you want to get Lunch… together?”

You blink in surprise. A thought hits you, its implications making your heart skip before you berate yourself. No, it’s definitely not a date, don’t get ahead of yourself.

“Sure. I’d love to. Where did you want to go?”

Amajiki doesn’t talk for a moment, mouth open as if he’s still processing your answer.

“Amajiki?”

“Oh, yes.” He snaps back to himself. “There’s a new restaurant down the street. They make Butter Chicken and you mentioned you like that.”

“Oh, Butter Chicken!” You clap your hands in excitement. “You know me so well.”

He chuckles and nods, turns back to his meal.

It’s a Tuesday, and just like the weeks before, he leaves for his room right after dinner to pick out the book he wants to read tonight. He gets the snacks and the drinks, preps the living room while you do the dishes.

Tuesdays, like Fridays, have become a thing in your household. On Tuesdays you read books, on Fridays you watch a movie. He doesn’t have that many other nights that he’s consistantly home at the same time as Patrol times love to change, but you find yourself next to him at least two times more each week, trying out some new video game his best friend recommended or watching the Hero news together.

It’s cozy and it makes you feel like you’re in a relationship, making it harder and harder to keep yourself focused on the truth. He is just a friend, you’re just his roommate. And his assistant.

-

On your way out of the agency, you meet Kirishima, who beams at you.

“Hey, long time no see. How are you?”

“I’m doing great. Are you going for lunch too? We’re trying out the new restaurant down the street.”

“I-” Kirishima stutters to your surprise. When you glance at Amajiki for backup, you realize why. Amajiki’s leveling Kirishima with a glare you’ve never seen on him before.

“Everything okay, Amajiki?” He seems to snap back to himself, shaking his head a little as if to clear his mind.

“Everything fine. Sorry, I think I zoned out a little. But I think Kirishima’s already busy. He mentioned something earlier, right?”

“Right.” Kirishima clears his throat awkwardly. “But have fun, you guys.”

-

It’s awkward at first. 

You’re used to eating with him, at the kitchen table in your shared apartment, where he’s as calm and collected as he can possibly be.

But it’s different out here. 

He barely opens his mouth, even though you get the table at the back. Once, twice his hand moves across the table as if trying to touch yours but he always pulls back. 

You wouldn’t have minded his touch, not if it would make him more comfortable and even less if it meant he was that comfortable with you.  

But he doesn’t seem to dare and you don’t either.

“This was nice.” You still point out when it’s time to pay. His mouth tells you that he’s getting anxious again, that thin, wobbly line you will always be able to recognize him by. “We should do it again.”

“Really?” He asks, his eyes on your shoulder to avoid eye contact while you watch the fingers of his left-hand play with the sleeve of his cardigan on his right arm.

“Really.” You nod to emphasize your point.

When the waiter arrives with the bill, Amajiki moves to pay.

“I got it.” He points out firmly when you still grab your wallet. “It’s on me.”

“You don’t have to-” You insist, only to be interrupted.

“You two are very cute.” The waiter, a middle-aged guy, all but swoons at your sight. “First dates are so precious, am I right?” 

Amajiki blushes up to the tips of his ears, but he doesn’t deny it.

And even though it’s not real, you don’t deny it either. 

Even if it’s just a silly little fantasy, it’s nice to live in it, if only for a moment.

-

6 months as his assistant

It’s Saturday morning and the sun is peaking through the window.

You need a minute to wrap your head around the fact that you’re sleeping on the Couch.

It’s warm and comfy under the blankets and if not for your bladder screaming at you, you could stay here forever.

As you slowly work at untangling your legs from the blanket, something moves by your side. With a low groan, Amajiki lifts his head, stretches out his arm, and pulls you closer toward him, settling his face in your neck.

You freeze. Are you still asleep? Did your usual dreams become hyperrealistic all of a sudden?

But his breath tickles your skin and you can’t imagine the weight of his arm over your chest, right?

A part of yourself - the part that doesn’t need to pee - tells you to go back to sleep. You’ll never get a chance like this if Amajiki was awake.

But the larger part of yourself screams at you to get up.

If Amajiki wouldn’t do this if he was awake you have no right to use his sleeping body to cuddle. Carefully you pick up his arm and slip out from beneath it.

When he grumbles, you grab a pillow from the floor and place it where you’d been a second before.

He pulls it closer just like he did with you and digs his nose into the soft fabric.

Amajiki looks, there’s no denying it, as cute as a kitten. 

Your hand darts out before you can stop yourself, to push a stray lock of dark blue hair behind his ear. His hair is soft and he sighs at the touch, relaxing further into the pillows.

You sigh. 

“Amajiki.” You whisper. No reaction. “I’m falling in love with you.”

He lets out a tiny snore and you swallow your emotions for yet another day and turn for the bathroom. If he asks about this, you’ll deny it ever happened.

-

You wonder if he can feel it.

The shift in the air. The new awkwardness that wasn’t there before.

How your eyes seem to get stuck on his mouth whenever you talk. 

You’ve always been hyperaware of him, but this is a different level.

Your body cannot decide where it wants to be. Near him, where you can see and smell and touch him, or far far away from him where you can forget that this isn’t a thing. You’re just roommates, coworkers, maybe friends.

There’s no denying that you need a little space, so you skip lunch with him in favor of locking yourself in a bathroom stall and calling Kyoko.

“Are you sure you don’t have a chance?” She asks, always the voice of reason.

“We have a good thing going on.” You say instead. “I work for him. I don’t want to jeopardize that. I wouldn’t be able to look at myself if I was the reason he feels no longer safe at work.”

“Well, you know the theory of getting over feelings like that. But are you ready to put that into practice?”

“What do you mean?” You know exactly what she means. You just don’t want to hear it.

But Kyoko isn’t your best friend because she keeps the ugly truth to herself. 

“You will have to move out. I know that this is part of your ‘good thing’ but you cannot stay there and get over yourself. Imagine how it would be if he brought home a girl.”

Her words are like knives to your heart. Wet stains appear on your skirt and you realize that you’ve started crying, soundlessly.

You really, really, really don’t want to move out. You don’t want to lose what you have, but this is the real world. You can’t have your cake and eat it too.

“Okay.” Your voice sounds almost normal and Kyoko does not comment on it. “I’ll start looking. Talk to you soon, okay?”

“Okay. Love you, take care.”

The call ends and you lean back, rest your head on the wall, and pull your knees up to your chest. Not the most comfortable position to sit on a toilet seat, but you’re not at your most comfortable to begin with.

The door opens. You freeze, well aware of how you must look. You put on Mascara this morning, the non-waterproof-kind. You will not show yourself to anyone until your makeup is fixed.

“No one here.” A voice says from the door. “So, what’s the tea?”

“I heard Kirishima started dating someone.”

“What? No.” The first voice groans in annoyance. “I mean he was kinda silly, but he was hot. And he’s going to be one of the major sidekicks in no time. He’d earn so much money. Goodbye work, hello life of a stay-at-home girlfriend.”

“I know, right? Apparently, it’s some girl he went to school with.”

“Ugh, don’t tell me it’s that Heteromorph Pinky. He doesn’t have any taste. But what else is new?”

“Well, Suneater is dating too.” 

Your heart freezes, stops after one painful last thump. What?

“That’s old news. How long has that been going on? I told you that girl only got the job as his assistant because he told Fatgum to put her there. They’ve been dating way before she became his assistant.”

“Do you think so? They didn’t seem that close.”

“Yeah, but Kirishima was so over the moon when she got the position, I tell you that they had a thing going on. Also, remember how she told me off when I tried to talk to Suneater? I work inAccounting, my role is way more important than hers.”

“Well, cheer up.” Accounting-girl’s friend seems annoyed now. This topic must be old news too. Your mind’s still reeling from what you’ve just heard.

They think that you’re dating Amajiki? You? That you got the job because of him?

“I heard that Lemillion is going to switch to our agency. This is top secret, but apparently, he and his girlfriend broke up and he wants to put some distance between them. It makes sense for him to move to his best friend's side, right?”

“Oh, Lemillion is hot! And he makes even more money than Suneater because he knows how to talk to people. I’ll keep an eye on the books. We have to look our best when he comes in.”

Someone’s phone chimes and shortly after that, silence falls over the room. 

You’re still catching your breath, reeling from all the revelations and your heart’s reaction to it.

If you react like this to the mere mention of Amajiki dating, Kyoko is right. You need to get some distance between the two of you.

And while you don’t know how much of the other gossip you should believe, there’s a point there that you cannot deny.

Lemillion is Amajiki’s best friend. If he broke up with his girlfriend, it would make sense for him to come back, and claim his old room again. You wouldn’t put it against him to want the comfort. But you’re in the way of said comfort.

You know what you must do.

-

7 months as his assistant

Finding an apartment isn’t easy, even when you’re not picky.

You know you can’t move back to where you came from. There is no argument that Amajiki or Kirishima would believe, no reason for you to go back to that. You earn nowhere near enough to be able to afford an apartment in the district you’re living in right now, so you search a bit further away from the agency. 

With your portion of the rent being so low and Amajiki constantly demanding to pay when you go out for lunch, you’ve saved up quite a bit, but you cannot use that to pay for your rent. So you widen your search parameter even more.

When you find one apartment that’s actually feasible, it comes with a one-hour drive and the last train leaves at six. To make that, you’d have to leave early every day and while you know Fatgum won’t mind that once or twice, you can’t ask for a favor like that.

So you swallow all your pride and stop Kirishima the next time you see him.

“Hey, I… kinda need your help.”

“Oh? Sure, what do you need?”

“I…” You pull him to the side, away from possible prying ears and eyes. “I need to look for a new apartment.”

“What?” Kirishima blinks in surprise. “Why?”

“That’s… a difficult story. But do you… know, someone? Like from your class or even younger, who could need a roommate? I don’t mind cleaning and cooking if I can save on rent.”

“Sure, I mean, I know Shoji is looking for a roommate right now. But are you sure? What about Amajiki?”

“He’s fine.” You insist. “I don’t want to bother him any longer.”

“Bother… him?” Something seems to click in Kirishima’s mind, but whatever it is, it clicked the wrong way. 

“I’ll talk to him.” He insists, his voice way too determined.

“What? No, Kirishima, that’s not-”

“I thought he was a good guy.” He’s not listening to you, arms hardened as he moves past you. Your grip just slips off and all you can do is run after him.

You find Amajiki in his office, alone, thank god.

“Amajiki!” Kirishima’s voice booms through the room and you throw the door closed in the hopes of avoiding a scandal. 

“Keep your voice down.” You tell him, but he won’t listen.

Amajiki looks confused. Not scared, which you’re thankful for, but confused. And you can understand that. You’re confused as well.

“What’s going on, Kirishima?”

“How can you treat her that way?!” Kirishima asks, pointing at you. You blink back.

“What are you talking about?” You ask, face burning as Amajiki look over, worry evident in his eyes.

“When you started dating, I told you that if you hurt her, I’ll make sure you hurt even more. Kicking her out? That’s hurting her.”

“What the-” You start, but stop when Kirishima lunges over Amajiki’s desk.

“ENOUGH!” You yell, and to your surprise, Kirishima freezes for the first time since he’s started down this path of whatever he’s trying to achieve.

“WHAT?” He asks, clearly unhappy about your interruption.

“We are not dating!” You point out. “And even if we were, you have no right to play big brother.”

“We’re… not… dating?” Amajiki’s voice is low and quiet, but it still manages to cut through the tense atmosphere like a butcher’s knife.

It’s your turn to freeze, to have trouble breathing. 

Amajiki looks confused, Kirishima looks confused and well, you’re not sure what you’re looking like, but you definitely feel confused. 

“I-” You start. “What?”

“Well, my bad.” Kirishima holds up his hand defensively, waves them around as he chuckles awkwardly. “I’ll… I guess I’ll let you two talk this out. If you need me, I’ll be back at my desk and… uh, if you need Shoji’s info, let me know.” He backs out of the room with a tense smile on his face, leaving you and Amajiki to stare at each other.

Well, you stare at each other’s bodies, avoiding eye-contact, but you’re used to that by now.

-

In the end it's the realization that avoiding eye contact might have gotten you into this mess that has you look straight at him. He’s blushing and you feel a little sorry, but you need to make sense of this situation.

“Amajiki?” You ask, voice soft. “Can you tell me why you thought we were dating? I won't be mad, I promise.”

He shrugs and looks down at his shoes. You wait, well aware that he probably needs a few moments to gather himself. 

“Washio-san said you liked me too.” He starts, confusing you even more. Washio-san? Wait, you liked him too?

But before you can ask, he speaks on.

“She said that I should make sure to give you enough attention. And… and that girls like gifts. So I got you stuff, you know.”

“Oh my god.” You whisper, realizing that he's referring to the little trinkets he’d brought in ever since you started working for him.

Wait, if Washio-san was aware-

“Does… does Fatgum know?

“Of course.” Oh my god. “I told him… when you reciprocated.”

You're left stunned and he adds softly: “You brought me that pebble.”

“But we never… I mean, we didn't…” You press your hands together for a lack of words. He seems to understand nonetheless, flushing profusely.

“Mirio said… he said… well, I asked and he… not everyone liked doing… that… I thought you were not into it. I didn't want to make you uncomfortable.”

“Oh. My. God.”

Silence falls over the room as you process things.

By the time you come back to reality - your stomach rather forcefully reminds you that you haven't eaten yet, your lunch break wasted on… more pressing matters - Amajiki has drawn into himself. He's sitting at his desk, seemingly occupied by a file, but you can tell he's not reading. 

You swallow your nerves and get up, walk over to his desk until you are right next to him. You push your back into the desk but instead of facing him directly, you focus on the tip of his left ear. It's flushed, the bright red a stark contrast to his dark hair.

“I have had a crush on you for ages.” You confess, forcing your voice to stay calm. “I didn't want to ask for the role as your assistant because in the end, you need to be comfortable with who you are working with, but I was hoping I would get it. Kirishima and I celebrated when I got the job, he might have… he might have told you.” You swallow thickly.

“I don't know if boy crushes are the same but girls… we tend to think that we’re not good enough. It paints everything in a different light. You ask me out on a date and I think you can’t possibly mean that, that you want to be just friends.”

He’s stiff as a board, but he doesn't speak up, so you continue. He told you his side of the story, so you owe him as much.

“If you're still up for it… I’d love to date you. For real this time.”

“Are you sure?” He asks, voice the tiniest bit wobbly.

“Absolutely.” You nod to emphasize your point and slide your hand across the table until it knocks into his. “And I do like… to do… that.” His hand grips yours, warm and strong, fits around yours like it was meant for that. 

Your heart beats loudly in your ears as you lean in, waiting for him to stop you but he doesn't. Your temple touches his, warm skin against warm skin. His eyes are wide open, his skin is flushed. You don't kiss, don't need to. It's enough for now to share your breath, share the warmth and the knowledge of your feelings.

“I really, really like you.” You point out, exhilarated when his lips pull into a smile that can only be described as giddy.

-

9 months as his assistant/girlfriend

The bed is way too warm to leave it, even though your bladder insists on doing just that.

Tamaki is spooning you, his face hidden against your shoulder blades, his messy bed head tickling your skin.

You drag your fingers across the arm that's holding you close. It's the softest of touches, barely enough to register in Tamaki's sleepy brain. But it works and his grip goes slack. You roll out of it, hand already in his hair when the absence of your warmth has him pout, even deeply asleep as he is now. He curls into himself in a matter of seconds, pout still on his face even as he starts snoring.

The shirt he wore yesterday still hangs on his desk chair and you slip into it. You don't want to give your new roommate nightmares.

When you step out of the bathroom, you're welcomed by the clattering of dishes and the smell of fresh waffles.

"Morning." You greet Shoji, who nods back.

He moved in two weeks ago when it became clear that he couldn't find a roommate and Tamaki wouldn't let you sleep in your own bed anyway. He insisted on sound proofing both bed rooms before moving in, but he's a quiet and friendly guy and you definitely do not mind his expertise in the kitchen.

"I have patrol today." Shoji points out minutes later, putting the waffles on three plates while you pour coffee into cups and do your best in putting the blueberries on the plates instead of into your mouth. "I'll be home late."

"Okay. I'm making curry tonight, I'll put your portion to the side."

He nods and smiles, before muttering: "Amajiki just woke up."

"How did you hear-" You start before you can see it too. Tentacles crawl over the floor, their movement sluggish but their goal clear.

You barely manage to jump to the side and put the coffee pot away before one snatches your legs and pulls.

"Good grief, Tamaki! I'm holding coffee!"

"Come back to bed!" You can barely make out his whining, but you know him by now, have learned quite a bit in the past two months.

There's nothing quite as unfiltered as Tamaki when he's barely awake.

And there's nothing quite as needy as him when he wakes up without you by his side.

"See you." Shoji puts your plates and coffee cups on a serving tray and holds it out for you. You're still struggling with the tentacles wrapped around your bare legs.

"Pull your tentacles back or I'll drink my coffee without you." You try to sound like you mean it, but you've always been an awful actress.

When you get back to the room, Tamaki's spread out on the bed, the arm that produced the tentacles reaching toward the door.

"I don't like waking up without you." He complains as he gets rid of the tentacles. You put the tray on his nightstand and slip into bed, press your now cold toes against his warm legs.

"Like you're already awake." You tease and he grumbles and mumbles, hides his face in your neck. He's on his best way to fall asleep again.

Just as you feel his body going slack, Tamaki moves again. He wakes like a cat, you learned, his nose often awake before the rest of his body follows. Or, like this time, his nose is not willing to go to sleep again.

“Waffles?” He asks, eyes closed. “Blueberries?” 

“And some apple and pear slices.” You point out, kiss the side of his mouth when he tries to move past you to get to the good stuff. His lips pull into a lazy smile and he cuddles back into you, heavy and warm and oh so relaxed.

“Feed me?” He asks. 

You snort but press a warm piece of waffle against his lips, only to kiss the leftover syrup off his lips.

“I could get used to that,” you mumble and he nods and hums and pulls you closer, always closer. 

“Please do.”

...

Half an hour later, when the coffee has trickled into his system and his anxiety is awake again, he's hiding his face against your neck for a different reason.

"I can never show my face again." He insists. "That was so embarassing. What did Shoji think of me, using my quirk for personal gain?!"

"I think he found it funny."

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[a-bit-too-much-of-a-zelda-fan]

Guys. Why is there even a debate here. Some of the games were explicitly written to be connected, some of them weren't. Not everything has to fit into one cohesive timeline. As a matter of fact, they can't. Now, there is some more nuance to it. Read below for my explanation (infodump) plus a more nuanced chart.

Red and blue lines are canon within the games' text. Ambiguities are filled in with green. I'll get more into that later. Let's first explain the two completely separate mini timelines.

The Four Swords miniseries stands mostly alone. The Master Sword and the Triforce are present in every other game or (mostly--looking at you, Master Sword in LoZ and AoL) have a good reason not to be, but they are not present at all in these three games. Instead, we have the Four Sword and Light Force. The only wrinkle is that Ganondorf shows up in FSA... so I don't know about that one. I don't think anyone does.

As for BotW and TotK. Oh brother. What do we do with these. Skyward Sword is intended to take place seemingly millennia, or at least several centuries before Ocarina. We see the founding of Hyrule with the first monarch and her chosen knight, the cycle of recurring evil and heroism being established, and the forging of the Master Sword

Wait. What about Rauru and Sonia? I thought they were the first rulers of Hyrule. And if the Zonai were around long before Hyrule, where is any of their presence in Skyward Sword? Huh. Alright. We don't know how much time passed between the first Calamity and the second, but from the past era of TotK to its present, we can account for at least 10,105 years of history. We don't even need to get into how Zora and Rito coexist or anything smaller like that. There's just no fucking way these two games fit with any of the others. Fine, that's fine. Moving on.

There's also a little hiccup around the Oracles. Nintendo seems to go back and force on whether the Oracles feature the same Link as in ALttP and LA, but if they do, it probably makes more sense that Oracles happen before LA (the linked Oracle game ends with Link boarding sailing off on a small ship and LA starts with him on one). So like... I guess they fit there?

Either way, let's take a second to look back at where this idea of a timeline split happened. Remember that WW and TP both clearly take place after OoT. That isn't theorizing, that's in the actual text of each game. The thing is, they're mutually exclusive. TP has Ganondorf being executed, as he would have been after the Hero of Time goes back to his original era and warns Zelda that her plan to get to the Triforce first isn't going to work (which is implied to be what happens at the "The End" screen of OoT). WW has Ganondorf coming back by breaking the seal put on him, and the Hero of Time didn't appear to stop him again (as would happen if Link was sent back in time). Fans started theorizing way back in 2006 that OoT created separate timelines, with WW and TP being mutually exclusive sequels to it as the evidence.

Some fans have asserted that Nintendo just "took" the fan theory. But come on, put everything together here. The texts of OoT, WW, and TP HEAVILY imply the timeline split. The only reason we called it a theory is because the writers didn't literally say "And then the timeline split in two". The texts are pretty clear though. It's the only thing that makes sense. That isn't to say that there needs to be a cohesive timeline, and that the split is the only way to fit it together. No, OoT is connected to both WW and TP no matter what. That was the intent. It's just that the explanation for OoT to have mutually exclusive sequels actually fits neatly into the texts of the games.

And now we come to the tricky part. Put yourself back into the 90s real quick. ALttP seems to have been written as a prequel to Zelda 1, showing Hyrule before its period of decline. Alright, let's just accept that because it may as well be true. The lore at that point was so thin that it made enough sense. I kinda slapped Zelda 1 and 2 at the end there to show it, because we do have a cohesive timeline from ALttP to TFH. That's fine, all well and good.

Likewise, OoT seems to be written as a prequel to ALttP. We see conflict over the Triforce, the origin of Ganon, the seven sages, and an earlier iteration of the Master Sword. Back in 1998, we had no reason to not believe it. These are tenuous connections that are not explicit in the games' text, so I've paired them with green lines to show it.

But wait. ALttP is ALSO mutually exclusive to TP and WW. Oh brother. What do we do about this? Even after figuring out the timeline split in 2006, fans didn't know what the fuck to do with the first four games of this franchise. They could go after TP, but that's even messier than putting them right after OoT. Yuck. This doesn't feel good at all. Oh yeah, and then there's the Four Swords games that don't fit anywhere.

Now you can imagine the position the writers of Hyrule Historia found themselves in when they were tasked with creating an official timeline. Some of the games have certain explicit connections, as detailed in my first chart. But they had to cram everything into one timeline. Well. They knew they had a timeline split in OoT, because that's what the texts of OoT, WW, and TP collectively say. The lore of ALttP also mentions seven sages (or wise men, but let's call them sages), but not a legendary hero. So... if you really stretch your brain out here... it kinda makes sense that there's a timeline where the Hero of Time died fighting Ganon. Maybe. Kinda. Not really, but kinda. And then there's the Four Swords miniseries. Fuck it, throw them in randomly.

The two-way split doesn't disagree with OoT's text at all, which said that Link won. The three-way split does disagree with it by asserting that Link lost. But if we're really trying to fit everything into one timeline, that is the cleanest place to put them. Some people really hate this, but it does seem that those are the same people that demanded that there be an official timeline in the first place. ie the same people who were gonna be pissed off with anything Nintendo gave them that wasn't exactly their own theory being confirmed.

Alright, real talk. The producers of the Zelda series have said time and time again that they think of what would make a fun game then write a story that fits around it. The Wind Waker devs wanted you to sail around the ocean. Then the writers decided "oh, we could put this after Ocarina! After all, weren't they left without a hero? What if Ganon came back with no one to stop him? How would that problem resolve itself? What if the gods just flooded the world?" Then the Twilight Princess devs wanted a spiritual successor to Ocarina, with an epic adventure on horseback across the traditional Zelda kingdom setting. So the writers went "hey, in Ocarina, Link warned Zelda about Ganon, right? What if he was executed then, and then the world was never flooded?"

We have to realize that trying to put games with this design philosophy into a neat little timeline is a futile effort. It's never gonna work because it wasn't designed to. More so than any other storytelling medium, video games take so many approaches to continuity. The Halo games were all meant to be sequential and fit neatly into a strict timeline. Pokemon is all canon within itself but the ties between games are less important than the stories of each game. Mario essentially has no canon except for recurring characters and settings. Zelda is gameplay first, canon second. That's why the two most recent mainline games don't even try to fit in the canon of the previous eighteen. That's just how it works and we're gonna have to accept that.

[deadbydangit]

@vicketch I'm sorry you aren't feeling well, maybe this will help.

Cheering up a depressed Reader

Legion (Julie), Dwight, Kate

Legion (Julie)

Feeling down?

Not for long!

This girl has been there, done that.

When she first entered the realm, she had a period of depression.

But she pulled herself out of it.

And she's going to pull you out of that pit too.

First, she'll want to talk about it.

What's bothering you?

Is someone bothering you?

"If it is I'll go kick their ass right now."

She won't outright force you to talk, but she'll strongly encourage it.

Want some snacks?

She has lots of snacks.

Cookies were always her go to snack when she was upset.

Just no beer.

Or drugs

Julie knows better than anyone how drinking doesn't help solve the problem.

She and the other Legion have tried to drink and smoke their troubles away.

It does not work.

It makes things worse.

Wanna play a game?

Maybe do a make over?

Prank Frank?

Go for a walk?

Tell stories?

You sure you don't want to prank Frank.

"Trust me. It's really funny. I once replaced his knife with a rubber one and he came back from trials pissed."

And laughing is a good way to feel better.

Sitting around just makes things worse.

She's the type who wants to keep you focused on anything but your depression.

She'll even swallow her pride and tell you about her own experience with it and how she dealt with it.

"I was with the others, we all worked through it together. And you? I'll work through it with you. You won't suffer alone."

Dwight Fairfield

You don't even have to say anything, Dwight can tell.

He's great at reading emotions and detecting small changes in someone's personality.

So, when you don't seem like yourself, he knows.

He's been through depression before.

He knows how much it sucks.

But he won't outright say he knows you're depressed.

He'll lay beside you one day, and just start chatting with you.

"I've been where you are. I felt so useless, I thought everything was just pointless."

He'll pull your head into his lap.

"But then I realized, there are so many more reasons to be happy than there are to be sad. Even here."

And he'll list some.

"Sunshine, flowers, you..."

And he'll look down at you with tears in his eyes.

But he's still smiling.

He hates seeing you so upset.

But him frowning isn't going to make you feel better.

He's no therapist, but he'll listen and give the best advice he can.

Sometimes he'll do something silly or tell a really dumb joke.

But you're laughing and smiling.

He's also very good about keeping track of your health.

Did you drink enough water? Have you eaten? Was it healthy? Too much junk food can make you depressed.

It may seem overbearing, but he really wants you to get better.

You being so sad isn't on his list of things that make him happy.

Kate Denson

"What's got you all blue sugar?"

She'll make sure to ask in private.

She understands if you don't want your troubles going public.

She had enough of that in the real world.

Kate is also very good at sensing emotions.

This girl is almost always rainbows and sunshine.

So it's surprising that even she dealt with depression at a time

"I wasn't doing what I loved to make me happy. So my music wasn't happy. Then no one is happy."

If you want to talk about it, she's all ears.

If not, she's not going to force you.

Instead, she'll change the subject.

Something funny like a story or a joke.

"...And that's how I accidentally made Hannah Montana hate my guts."

And she'll laugh.

And her laughter will make you laugh.

She had written some music when she was in her depressive moments, and she'll offer to sing it to you.

Then she'll sing you her most upbeat happy ones.

It's to show you how strong she bounced back from her sadness.

"Come 'er Darlin'."

She's putting your fingers on her guitar and guiding you to a few strings.

It's her way of saying that you can get over it too.

"And I'll be right 'er with ya' the whole time."

[levbolton]

Blue Period Chapter 64

Scans and Rough Translation

Disclaimer: I DO NOT consent to using this translation for scanlation! I am not fluent in Japanese, I use Google Lens and Deepl/Google Translate to translate this, so sometimes stuff can be faulty or unclear. Besides, Impromptu Scanlations do their best with their scanlations. There's a simulpub, but kodansha decided they should keep it to US only and most of us do not live in US (and those that do don't share the translation bruh)

I am translating it this way because no one keeps up with the story and it feels lonely to be the only one reading it. You can obviously take bits form here to discuss, but do not use it for scanlation without my consent. If I see any I will immediately stop translating and you’ll get back to square 1

Scans are here

Translation 64

P1 : Title

You, send.

The blue continues. (Great start I don’t really know what it is supposed to mean)

君を、送る。

青は続く。

Art reference: Un enterrement à Ornans by Gustave Courbet

P2

Kanie: I'm here to collect all of Machiko Sanada's pieces.

Murai: Ha? What?

Murai: I didn't hear anything about that.

Murai: What? What? has the Kanie Gallery finally started doing things this way?

Kanie: ?

P3

Kanie: Listen... are you available?

Kanie: Well, you seem angry, don't you?

Kanie: You know...

Card: Machiko Sanada exhibition. ~ The genius girl painter who became a real deal/an angel.

Kanie: You can come, but don't get violent.

Kanie: Of course, I've already got permission from all the relatives.

Kanie: No wonder you don't know.

P4

Kanie: You're just friends, aren't you?

Hachiro: When did you decide?

Hachiro: When I talked to Sanada-san's mother last week...

Kanie: Let's see, the day before yesterday, or the day before that?

Kanie: Three years ago... The exhibition she was planning on doing before she died went bye-bye. I was about to give up on it, but...

Kanie: But then Machiko's paintings became a hot topic on SNS.

Phone screen: The artist died when she was 18. God takes geniuses with him.

Sound effect: I see.

P5

“Machiko's paintings...”

"They love her so much..."

Murai: ... What? SNS...

But her mother...

“She wouldn't want it to be like this”

“She wants you to be with someone who cares about you.”

(she probably meant she wanted people to care when she was alive)

P6

Yakumo: You're a miser!

Hachiro: Yakumo!

Yakumo: All he cares about is making money!

Yakumo: Are you happy that Sanada's dead and the sale price went up? Yeah?

Yakumo: Fucking hijacker!

P7

Kanie: After ten years, most of the paintings are worth two or three thousand dollars.

Kanie: Idiot.

Kanie: You guys must think you're doing something great, don't you?

Kanie: When you die, you get a fixed number of works for the rest of your life, so the relative value of your work goes up.

P8

Kanie: There are only a handful of artists like that.

Kanie: In fact, they almost always go down.

Kanie: There are artists who get recognition after they're dead.

Kanie: But there are artists who were very successful during their lifetime, have their prices dropping.

Kanie: Artistic value is determined over a period of 50 years.

Kanie: But 50 years...

Kanie: In other words, it's difficult to find a place that will value your work for 50 years.

Kanie: It takes a lot of space and money to store a painting.

Kanie: Even if it's a good painting for the person who buys it, it doesn't mean that the family who inherits it will share its value.

Words: Trend, Humidity, Sunlight, Location

P9

Kanie: incidentally

Kanie: Machiko Sanada's paintings didn't change in price between her life and death.

Guy in the background: President.

Kanie: It's okay, I've got the permit.

Kanie: Our job is to make the work worth the most and deliver it to the people who cherish it.

 Yakumo.

Kanie: Put your feelings aside.

Kanie: Are you going to turn mellow wine into vinegar?

P10

Yakumo: …

Kanie: good grief

Kanie: Galleries don't bring in any money.

Kanie: Fucking kids.

Momo: We’ll be late

Shall we go?

P11

Hachiro: ... Yes ... Yes ...

Hachiro: No, what mother decides is best.

Sound: Bleep.

P12

Yakumo: Maybe if we were a family (as in married I think?)

Yakumo: I'd have the right to tell him.

Momo: But we're friends.

Yakumo: But... But...

Box1: We're friends.

Box2: I feel so powerless.

P13

Hachiro: I see... Sales...

Hachiro: Yakumo will miss her paintings.

Hachiro: ...but I wonder if it will force him to get back on her feet.

Hachiro: Yakumo didn't even come to Machiko's funeral.

Yotasuke: What?

Hachiro: When someone you love dies, it means that one part of your daily routines disappears...

We're here.

Register: Those who have applied to the AOJ, please fill in this form and proceed.

P14

Yatora: Surprisingly ordinary warehouse...

Hachiro: There are no regulations on the size of the works, so this is probably all that's needed.

Yatora: Wow...

Yatora: I'm getting nervous now.

Hachiro: What's going on now?

Yatora: I've seen other works and I start to feel it...

P15

Yatora: So this is where I'm being delivered.

Yatora: Come to think of it, Hacchan seems to have finished early.

Yatora: What kind of...

Yatora: !

Yatora: An abstract painting? It looks like he put a brush on a cleaning robot and moved it...

But I don't have the image of Hacchan as a painter, so maybe the cleaning robot did it for real...

…!

Yatora: Yakumo-san...

P16-17 double spread

P18

Yatora: That…

Yatora: I knew right away.

P19

Yatora: It is a floral service.

Secretary:  Okay, we'll be judging in a week's time.

Secretary: We'll be streaming it on TUBE, so please do watch it, and we'll be in touch with the winners shortly afterwards.

P20

Hachiro: Uh-oh.

Hachiro: Mr. Kanie cleaned up the whole place...

Yotasuke: He left something...

Momo: It's a postcard for Machiko's exhibition! They're having a reception party.

Yatora: What's that?

Momo: A party for the people involved in the exhibition, right?

Momo-yota-yatora: The date is... One week later!

Hachiro: Mr. Kanie's been preparing for this for a long time.

P21

Hachiro: Well, I'm not keen on it, but I might just turn up.

Momo: It's been four long years. ~~~~~~

Yotasuke: Yaguchi-san?

Yatora: What?

Yatora: Oh...

Yakumo: Aaah! Aaah! Aaah!

Yakumo: Don't look at me. Go do whatever you want.

Yakumo: I'm watching the AOJ's trial feed.

Yakumo: They don't even know what the work is about. It's just a shitty exhibition.

P22

Hachiro: Well, Yakumo's right... Machiko's work is different from the type of artists Kanie Gallery usually deals with.

Hachiro: Maybe the Kanie’ customers won't be interested...

Sign: Kanie Gallery

P23

Yatora: Are there more galleries in Hiroshima?

Hachiro: Oh, no?

Women: I'm from Wakayama, I saw it on social media and thought it was a really nice painting...

Hachiro: I see.

Momo: I saw it on a social media and thought it was a very good picture.

Yakumo(‘s phone): This year's AOJ has started slowly, hasn't it?

Receptionist: Yaguchi Yatora-sama, isn't it?

Receptionist: Please have a drink from over there.

P24

Momo’s dad: Are you sure you didn't want to go with the others?

Momo’s dad: It was Machiko's big day.

Yakumo: You wouldn't want me to get into trouble, would you, kakinokizaka-san?

Momo’s dad: That would be a problem.

Momo’s dad: When he came to collect the paintings the other day, I got a call from Mr. Kanie. but I wondered if he'd already told you guys.

Momo’s dad: Now, this is Kenji Hachiro's work... (I think he rather meant responsibility???)

・・・・・・

P25

Momo’s dad: Hey, Yakumo-kun.

Momo’s dad: A lot has happened since Machiko passed away, hasn't it?

Yakumo: I never thought the three of us would pass the exam together.

Momo’s dad: Me too. I mean, no one thought so.

Yakumo: What's the matter? Are you trying to cheer me up?

Momo’s dad: Yakumo-kun, getting over something isn't a bad thing.

P26

Yakumo: You don't seem to understand, do you?

Momo’s dad: Funerals.

Momo’s dad: Maybe it's the ego of the living, but it's precisely because we humans can share something invisible that we can all interpret death together, accept it or let it go.

P27

Yakumo: In other words?

Momo’s dad: I mean, you know, I was thinking about moving on away.

Yakumo: ...? A postcard?

Postcard: Murai, I'll be waiting.  Sanada Machiko Solo Exhibition

Bubble: A postcard from the exhibition three years ago, which did not take place, addressed to you.

P28-29 double spread

Bubble: I think she wanted you to come and see it.

P30

Box: Amazing...

P31

Box: Egoistic.

Box: A strong picture that leaves no room for others.

Box: It's much stronger than the one I saw in the warehouse.

? - There you go.

P32

Kanie: So Yakumo didn't come after all?

Kanie: How's it going? It's a nice painting, isn't it? Sold out on the first day.

Kanie: Machiko Sanada's paintings only look good in the exhibition space.

Kanie: I understood the meaning of her persistence in the exhibition through this exhibition.

Yatora: I see…

Box: But for all that...

P33

Women: How could someone who paints such good pictures...

Women: She was... She was young, wasn't she?

Women: God is... really...

Dude: Hey!

Dude: Have you been on social networking sites too?

Dude: Sanada and I went to middle school together!

Dude: Sanada was a weird kid, but she was always really good at drawing...

Dude: Here's my graduation album from junior high school...

? - Hey...

P34

Yakumo: I know who you are, too.

Dude: Uh... friend of mine? You're a friend of mine?

Yatora: Mr Yakumo! You came?

Yakumo: Wow, so many people.

Yatora: Sanada-san's painting is amazing.

Yakumo: Hmm...

Yatora: What's going on?

Bubble: It's even better than when I saw it in the warehouse...

P35

Yakumo: It's a terrible exhibition. ~~~~~

Yatora: It's...

Hachiro: Yakumo ....?

Yatora: This is bad! It's a bad sign!

Yakumo: That woman...

P36

Yakumo: She just liked to draw, and it just happened that she drew good pictures.

Yakumo: Only to die at 18.

Yakumo: So what's this, "a genius girl painter who became an angel/real deal"?

Bubble: Who the hell is that?

P37

Kanie: So Yakumo's here...

Kanie: You can go home.

Hachiro: Yakumo.

Hachiro: Let's not... at Machiko's exhibition...

Yakumo: No, no, no, you can't stand it either, can you, Hacchan?

Yakumo: As soon as she died, they dramatized it.

Yakumo: Her drawings are eloquent, but she was just a quiet person.

Yakumo: I wonder why it's selling so well after all this time.

Yakumo: That's funny.

P38

Yakumo: If you pity her so much, buy her when she's alive!

Yakumo: Then maybe she'd be more...

Yakumo: Whaaaatttt?

Yakumo: Don't touch.../leave me alone

Kanie: You're ruining the mood.

Kanie: Go home.

P39

Talking: Call the police. ....?

Talking: What to do...

Hachiro: Let's go home. Let's go home.

Momo: Hacchan…

Hachiro: We're sorry for the trouble we caused you.

Hachiro: I will tell him to be more careful (something like this)

?- That’s unnecessary…

?- Hachiro-san...

P40

Machiko’s mom: Machiko must have made some good friends.

Bubble: Yes, she did.

P41

ha ha ha (laughing loudly)

Momo: Look! Look at this!

Phone: There was a man who was verbally abusing Machiko Sanada at her exhibition, it was terrible. Arrest him!

Hachiro: Yakumo. He's getting shit on social networking sites.

Yakumo: Hey, stop Ego-surfing!

Yatora: Ah, that middle school classmate...

P42

Momo: I can understand how Yakumo feels! I knew a lot of people who'd never even heard of Machiko.

Hacchan: Even the caption was, "What? Who?" It's a bit overdramatic.

Yakumo: Then, why don't you say so on the spot?

Momo: I'm an adult.

Hachiro: I'm an adult.

Bubble: If I were you, I'd retaliate in a way that wouldn't be noticed.

Yakumo: Oh, shit.

P43

Yakumo: No more paintings by that artist...

Yakumo: I've been drawing ~~~~ for a long, long time...

Yakumo: Every time I draw, every time I aim for something, I can't help thinking of her...

Yakumo: But it was fine...

P44

Yakumo: I've only known her for a few months.

Yakumo: That's fucked up.

Yakumo: I'd rather let my feelings die than be with her.

Yatora: What can you do with a person who draws like that?

Yatora: I’d think they’re too cool.

Yakumo: Ah?!

Yakumo: I think so too!

Yakumo: Right! She's so cool!

P45

Yakumo Oh, well, I'll just watch the rest of the AOJ feed.

Hachiro: Don't drink!

Hachiro: Thank goodness... Yakumo seems to be on the road to recovery.

Yotasuke: Hey...

Yotasuke: Why does he have to get back on his feet?

Yotasuke: .... What? What's wrong with Murai-san?

P46

Yotasuke: It's okay to live with that grief for the rest of your life.

P47

Yakumo: ... What?

Yakumo: I see.

Bubble: I can carry this sadness with me for the rest of my life.

Brush: Sanada

The wounds don't need to heal.

I will not forget you.

End of 64th stroke.

Next time: the results of the AOJ!

24th August 2023

[ferret-milk]

Gang, Im depressed. (A rant/review of the blue period manga or how I am reflecting on emotions and my art)

so I first started reading the blue period manga like when the anime first started airing. And man that was the most depressing stuff I had ever seen. I got to about the beginning of the second year of university before I stopped reading it. And that kinda put me in a slump mentally with art. Yatora represented everything I was at that point in my life.

A high school student just wandering through life with no intended real goals who got an interest in art and decided to pursue that, only to become overwhelmed with everything that comes with it.

I act like I know art but I don’t. I don’t make great or amazing art. Everyone around me seemed to be making art just to make art. But I could only make art for assignments or on assignments. I was actually afraid to draw.

This panel hit me so hard. Everything about it resonated with me. It’s actually really pathetic. Everyone sees me as an artistic creative person when I couldn’t even make art for myself. Yatoras journey after getting into art school was me. Everyone seemed to know what they wanted to do at some capacity. Surrounded by people with years of experience and mountains of motivation. But what was I? Why was I there? Why am I making art?

there are moments in the manga that are very practical. They show the artistic method and all that. They show the practical way about art and the artistic process. The ways that make it look so easy. That you can just make art. That it’s so simple to create something.

And then it’s not that easy.

it really isn’t

And then I get stuck again.

I make one good piece.

And then I don’t make any more art.

Anyone can do what I can.

Maybe.

Actually no.

No they can’t.

And so I stopped reading Blue Period and stopped making art. And then I made art again. And I really liked it. It’s fun. I’m so happy when I make something. When it turns out well or I try something new. It’s exhilarating. For 6 months. 6 months I could make art and be proud of it.

And then I read Blue period again. And all these emotions came flooding back. Everything I made up until that point was worthless garbage. I actually had a panic attack after reading a few chapters. It’s kinda funny in a way. I’m so disturbed by this manga because of how much of it is me. But I have to move on.

I don’t think I’ll ever finish this manga. I don’t think I can. Not if I don’t want to lose an important part of me. So overall its art style and story telling is a 9.7/10. Would recommend for people who only appreciate art.

[majesty-madness]

A Past Encounter - Bucky Barnes x reader (nsfw)

Summary: Being in a relationship with Bucky, Y/N prided herself on knowing him quite well but when she’s accidentally teleported back to 1940, Y/N discovers that there is a whole other Bucky that she has yet to meet. The sweet flirt that had everything going for him before his unfortunate capture by HYDRA.

Word Count: 3600+

Warnings: flirty 40's!Bucky, small 40's!Steve, slight angst, nothing else really (I mean it's a little sad)

a/n: I started a new job and I haven't had the time to write much before hand so I hope at least one person will enjoy this. Also I'm posting this at like 11:30 at night so I'll repost it tomorrow.

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Chapter Three

First thing her ears pick up on are the sounds of cars driving on the street with the occasional honking. 

Despite the aching thrumming over her body, Y/N managed to open her eyes to take in the slightly darkened room. 

She kept still as she took in the environment around her; at first the familiar edge of panic shot up her spine causing her to whip up in the bed she occupied. However, the longer she stared out into the room, the more it sank in. 

The small bedroom complete with a bed fitted with olden sheets and a comforter, a modest dresser sitting against a wall covered in chipped paint and scrapped wooden panels acting as the floor. 

It wasn’t a dream, everything that happened last night was real. 

She was in Brooklyn, New York, in the 40’s. 

Once the memories rushed back to her, Y/N took a deep breath, fingers carding through her hair while her arms rested on top of her thighs. 

Then she wondered what time it was so she moved her eyes about the room, subconsciously looking for a digital clock and forgetting she wouldn’t find one. Though she found a small analogous clock sitting on the nightstand that read, 8:30am. 

She hummed, knowing that it was about the same time she got up every morning. 

Nice to know that even in traveling through time, she kept to a schedule. 

Figuring she should get up, Y/N pushed the comforter from her legs and bundled them up at the end of the bed. Then quietly, she stood up from the warm mattress and tip toed over to the wooden bedroom door. Her fingers reached forward, taking the cool metal of the doorknob into her grip, the cold almost stinging the surface of her skin as she turned it. A clicking sound resonated into the room and she pushed the door open. 

Y/N peaked out into the living room, seeing that Bucky and Steve were already up and running for the day. 

Jeez. It seemed that even in the 40’s, Bucky and Steve were early risers too. 

Before stepping out, Y/N listened in on their soft voices talking to each other. 

“You think she’ll be okay? She seemed out of it.” Steve asked, as he poured himself a glass of orange juice. 

Bucky, taking a sip from his coffee mug, shrugged then swallowed the contents. “I’m not sure, but she seemed alright for the most part. Besides, she doesn’t have anywhere else to go; it wouldn’t do us any harm giving her a chance to get back on her feet.”

Steve nodded in agreement. 

The said woman smiled tenderly, mostly to herself, at Bucky’s words. They didn’t know each other all that well at this time, and yet Bucky was putting her needs before his own. 

That was a rare gift to find in any time period. 

Finally, she stepped out from Bucky’s room, quietly making her way to the side of the dining table. 

At first, the boys didn’t notice her presence, however, once Y/N just a few feet from the table,  Bucky straightened himself up. 

“Hey, good morning.” He greeted boyishly. 

Steve whipped himself around to see Y/N standing there. “Good morning.”

She shyly smiled, head dipping down a couple of times. “Good morning, you two.”

“Did you sleep well?” Bucky asked, setting his cup onto the table; deep blue eyes never straying from Y/N’s delicate figure covered in nothing but his baggy white shirt. 

“Yeah I did. You were right, it did get chilly in there last night.” She joked light heartedly, trying to keep the situation less odd. 

“Were you able to stay warm at least?”

Y/N nodded. “Thank you, I really appreciate it.” 

“No problem, and if there’s anything else you need, just let us know.” Bucky said, seemingly distracted by Y/N’s morning beauty. 

Steve looked between the two adults then let out a cough causing Bucky to shake out of his thoughts. “So Y/N, do you want some breakfast?” 

Her eyes snapped to Steve who stood from the tablwe. “Oh yeah, that’d be great. Thank you.”

He politely smiled at her, proceeding to pull out one of the dining chairs for her. She walked over and sat on the wooden material of the chair; it wasn’t exactly comfortable but she wouldn’t be sitting at the dinner table for a long time. 

“What would you like?” Steve asked Y/N who had spaced out for a moment. 

“What do you two have to eat?” She asked as she looked between the two men. 

Bucky strolled into the compact kitchen searching for food. “We have - let me see - we got eggs, bread, oatmeal, cereal and….I think that’s all we got.” 

“How about uh…oatmeal?” Y/N answered though it sounded more like a question. 

Bucky scoffed with a grin. “Oatmeal? Unsure are we?” 

Y/N laughed. “No, I mean oatmeal please.” 

Then the dark haired man pulled out a sealed small packet of, what Y/N assumed was the breakfast food itself. He rummaged through the shared kitchen, eyes dancing over the different metal pans inside to find the one he needed. 

As he began to prepare the simple meal for Y/N, she pulled her attention to Steve who had sat back down diagonal from her. “Did you sleep okay?” 

There it was again, the look of startled surprise appearing across Steve’s face upon hearing her question. 

She wondered, was it really so odd for someone other than Bucky to be concerned for him?

Nonetheless, he answered. “Oh yeah, I slept fine. Thanks for asking.”

“What about you, Bucky?” Y/N tested out the name, feeling a bit awkward for saying it despite having said it many times. 

From what she could tell, it didn’t bother him as he stood over the stove waiting for the water to heat up, rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably. 

“Uh…well I slept about as well as one could on that rickety sofa.” He admitted, a small groan falling from his lips as he set his hand down to his side. 

A pout formed on her lips. “I’m sorry to hear that, hopefully I won’t be taking up your bed for too long.” 

“It's really not a big deal. Besides I'm the one that offered, didn't I?” 

Y/N tilted her head to the side, “Well technically, you both offered your beds.” 

The boys laughed at her witty comment, easing some of the tension in Y/N’s shoulders. 

“That’s true, but still…” Bucky snickered, pouring the oatmeal packet into a bowl and then mixing it with hot water. “I wouldn’t worry your pretty little head about our sleeping arrangement.”

He picked up the bowl from the counter and brought it to the table, placing it carefully in front of Y/N. 

“We said we’d help you out until you got back on your feet, and we meant it.” He added while taking his place at the table, across from her. 

She smiled gratefully at him, and spared Steve that look as well. “And I am grateful for that.” 

Bucky gave a slight nod, taking a sip of his coffee. And in the corner of her eye, Y/N saw Steve take a drink of his orange juice at the same time. 

Y/N gripped a hold of the spoon already buried by the thick oatmeal and took a bite. The moment it hit her tongue, it burned and in a panic she quickly swallowed to make it go away; feeling the uncomfortable sensation of it traveling down her throat into her stomach. 

Should’ve blown on it first. She scolded herself in more ways than one. 

She managed to keep her distress on the downlow as neither one of the boys reacted to her searing her tongue off. Honestly, it was better that way, she already felt awkward around them. 

Deciding to take another bite, Y/N first blew on the food before swallowing it, much happier that it didn’t burn her that time. 

“Speaking of getting you back on your feet, do you have any other belongings with you that we might be able to pick up?” Bucky asked, thumbling the handle of his cup. 

Y/N thought on it, gaze dancing about over the surface of the table. “Um…no, no there isn’t. Like I said before, that purse was all I had.” 

“Well that means we’ll have to go out today and replace what got stolen.”

She quirked a brow up at the implication. “You don’t mean you’re going to replace it?”

“Well yeah..” He stated matter of factly, with a little hesitation.

“I can’t ask you to do that.” Y/N objected, her breakfast nearly forgotten. “That would be so expensive.”

Steve leaned forward, clearing his throat as he began to voice his thoughts. “But we can’t leave you with nothing to call your own.” 

“The question of money isn’t a serious concern either; both of us have steady jobs so getting you something like clothes won’t be a problem.” Bucky added to further support Steve’s point. 

Y/N listened to the two, becoming more and more conflicted because one, she wasn’t even from this time period so it would be pointless for her to buy things when she would ultimately leave, but she wasn’t even sure that she could leave or if she could when she’d be able to leave and if she was going to stay, she did need regular household items to live in this time. 

Either way, she needed at least the bare minimum for a person to live semi-conveniently. 

“I would feel guilty if you spent money on me; I’m not from around here.” Y/N still tried to reason with them, but they weren’t having it. 

“It doesn’t matter if you’re from around here or not. You’re here now with us, and life can be difficult on your own so let us two gents help a pretty lady in trouble huh?” He teased confidently.

Again, the familiar heat rose to her cheeks and her heart skipped a beat in her chest. She was not used to this type of flirting from him. Back home, Bucky was much more subtle with his flirting; his self consciousness made him hesitant in any kind of romantic relationship. Therefore, to know that he was flirting in the first place, one would have to look under the surface to see what his intentions were. 

To have Bucky, in a time she knew nothing about, being much more obvious in his intent was a shock to be sure. 

Regardless, she shyly moved her head down to her breakfast. “O-okay…”

Once they had all finished with breakfast, Steve cleaned up the table and kitchen while Bucky searched through his closet for his smallest clothes for Y/N to wear, at least until they got to the clothing store a couple of blocks down the street. 

He had handed her another white button up shirt, and a pair of brown high-waisted jeans with a belt. They were the smallest he could find, but they all soon realized that wasn’t going to work because as soon as she stepped out of the bathroom, the pants would not stay up properly. 

Y/N had pulled the belt over the very last notch and it still wasn’t tight enough around her waist. 

Bucky stood still, thumb resting under his chin as he contemplated what to do next. Then Steve made the suggestion that maybe a pair of his pants could fit, so he grabbed a pair and waited for Y/N to change again. 

When she stepped out they saw immediately that with the coupling of Bucky’s belt, the pants did indeed fit around her waist so right after that, they left for the clothes shop down the road. 

Though the clothes fit, it was clear they weren’t her’s, if the slighted stares of people walking by her on the sidewalk was any indication. Luckily, Y/N didn’t care what others thought about her clothes, she’d be wearing a different pair here before too long anyhow. 

The three of them mostly kept quiet until they came into view of the shop Bucky had mentioned earlier that morning. Bucky pointed it out, and they jogged across the street to meet at the front door. 

Steve stepped forward to open the door first, letting Y/N and Bucky step through before he did.

The first thing Y/N noticed was the counter with a lone bell sitting on top of it and nobody occupying the space behind it though that quickly changed as Bucky casually strolled up to the counter and tapped the bell, causing a ringing sound to echo through the small inside. 

An older woman, probably about fifty years old, walked out with a pair of black glasses attached to a thin chain around her neck, and a maroon colored dress. Once her eyes set upon Bucky’s figure, she smiled brightly. 

“Hello, dear, it’s been so long since I’ve seen you!” 

He smiled back at her in return. “I’ve been busy with work.” 

The woman then playfully slapped his arm. “Don’t give me that, James. You said the same thing when you were in school.” 

That caused Bucky to laugh while the woman looked at Steve. “Hello, Steve, dear. How are you feeling?” 

He gave a nod and a much more relaxed smile. “I’m feeling alright.” 

“You staying out of trouble?” She asked inquisitively while raising a brow at him. 

He laughed then too, bashfully, almost like she had caught him red handed. “Mostly.” 

“Oh my word, boy! You’ll worry me and James to an early grave!” She let out a laugh of her own that time then her attention was pulled to the unfamiliar young woman standing between them. “And who is this young lady?”

“This is a new friend of mine, Y/N. She, unfortunately, had her stuff stolen and is in the market for some new clothes.” Bucky explained, pivoting himself to look back at the young woman. 

The older woman walked around the counter to shake Y/N’s hand which Y/N politely reciprocated. “I’m so sorry to hear that dear. I’m Irene, nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too, Ma’am.” 

“Don’t you worry, now. We’ll find you something real nice, something that..” She took a small step back to eye the baggy clothes she wore, her smile falling and expression utterly perplexed. “...will suit you much better.” 

Y/N watched Bucky cough awkwardly while Steve avoided Irene’s gaze all together. 

“Seriously, boys, you couldn’t have found something better for the poor thing to wear? Shame on you.”

Y/N might have laughed if she hadn’t felt embarrassed that she let Bucky and Steve let her wear their clothes. 

So much for not caring what others thought. 

Irene then gently grabbed Y/N by the shoulders, beginning to lead her further into the store. “Now let’s pick a nice dress for you.” 

“Dress?” Y/N questioned, abruptly stopping in the middle of the store. 

“Of course a dress, deary! What else would you expect to wear?” The older woman gawked at her. 

Y/N eyes fluttered down to what she was already wearing, briefly gesturing to it. “These?” 

Irene shook her head. “Don’t you think that sends the wrong message dear? Wearing two different men’s clothes?” 

“How could you tell they were from two different men?” Y/N asked, surprised. 

The older woman turned over her shoulder for a moment, staring at Bucky and Steve as they avoided looking at her sight directly, awkwardly busying themselves with anything other than the woman herself. 

She sighed. “Honey, I’ve been doing this for a long time, I think I can tell when the clothes don’t match.” 

“Oh..” Y/N mumbled. 

“Now let’s stop wasting time and get you something pretty to wear!” She insisted, beginning to lead her towards the back of the shop again. 

In the span of thirty minutes, Irene has picked three different outfits for Y/N to try on, and each seemed to fit her personality perfectly while also being shockingly comfortable. 

The first outfit had been a green shirt waist dress with white flowers decorating the fabric; next there was the tan lined skirt and a white blouse, and lastly, a pale blue peplum top dress with a gray cardigan and a pair of black flats with a thin strap going over the foot. 

The pale blue dress had really caught Y/N’s eye, urgently pointing to it as soon as she’d seen it hanging on one of the many racks in the store. Irene seemed to agree that it was the perfect dress since she exclaimed the word beautiful once she’d stepped out of the changing room. 

Y/N took a moment to admire herself in the mirror, liking the way that the dress wrapped around her curves in a classy sort of way. She thought she looked attractive with the combination of being polite, best of both worlds. 

Although there was something oddly familiar about this shopping trip. Y/N couldn’t place it. 

“I have to say, you are a natural at picking out clothes, Ma’am.” Y/N complimented, continuing to look in the mirror. 

“Please call me Irene.” The woman waved at hand at the formality. “Besides I should be good at this, considering I’ve been doing this for twenty years.” 

Y/N grinned at the woman’s carefree attitude then let the older woman guide her back to the front of the store where Bucky and Steve had been waiting patiently. 

Upon catching Y/N in that pale blue dress, Bucky nearly jumped up from the chair he’d been sitting in, eyes growing wide with awe. 

“Wow, you look…” He paused for a brief second to swallow hard. “..beautiful.” 

Then it hit her. 

She had stepped out of the changing room inside one of the various clothing stores inside the mall, watching as Bucky’s eyes grew wide and stood straight up when his blue eyes settled on the dress she was wearing. 

“Wow, you look…beautiful.” 

Y/N couldn’t help the giddy grin and an excited laugh that left her. “You think so?”

He nodded, completely stunned. “Yeah, I mean, god, you’re perfect.” 

“Aww, Bucky.” She stepped forward, resting her hands on his shoulders and pecked his lips. “You are the sweetest, you know that?”

Bucky raised his metal arm to the small of her back with a smile that could light up the world. “Only for you, Doll.” 

Suddenly, she felt like she didn’t know how to breathe as that one memory knocked the air right from her lungs. 

In the short span of less than a day, somehow she’d forgotten the reason she was here, the whole point to why she had to be getting new clothes in the first place. 

She didn’t belong here, but the memory and what was happening now started to merge together in a way that made her want to drag him into her arms and never let go; kiss him until they both had troubling breathing. 

Unfortunately, he didn’t know anything of what they shared together, what they had. 

He didn’t know her. 

Fighting back the suffocating ache in her chest, Y/N tried to convincingly show she was flattered by his compliment. “Thank you, Bucky.” 

“No problem.” Bucky shyly nodded, beginning to fidget in his spot. He didn’t have to fidget for long as Irene called for his attention. 

“Now, James, normally I would charge you the usual rate, but seeing as how she had her stuff stolen, I’ll take fifty-percent off.” Irene explained, writing down something on a sheet of paper. 

“Well that’s awfully kind of you, Irene.” 

The woman huffed. “Don’t get smart with me, Buchanan or I will charge you in full.” 

Bucky raised his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. I’ll stop.” 

Irene wrote a couple more things down, then turned a clipboard towards the tall brunette. “Sign here, and here and I’ll get these wrapped up for you, Honey.” She said to Y/N, already pulling on a roll of brown paper and wrapping the outfits she picked out. 

It took another few minutes eventually though, they bid the older woman farewell, not before she playfully scolded Bucky to ‘take care of her.’ 

Being out with a pair of clothes that fit the times actually made Y/N feel a little more at ease. Now there wouldn’t be any more random strangers staring at her like she was an eyesore. 

To be fair, it did nothing to release the painful ache in her heart. 

Her thoughts ran rampant on all the small things that her and Bucky had done together back in her modern time. Happiness was the usual feeling that accompanied it but today, sadness tugged at her instead. 

The screwed up thing was that she was with Bucky right now, but she couldn’t be with him like that. It felt like in some way, the world was teasing her. In reality, the notion of going home was futile because she had no clue if it was possible to get back home and if it wasn’t then what would she do?

Would she live out the rest of her days in time that she had no business being in? Live her entire life in love with a man she could never touch or hold? 

She knew she’d never be able to live a life that way. 

But how were things going to go from here on out? What were they going to look like? She wondered. 

Y/N didn’t know it, nor could she, but right now in a time far away, a single man was wondering the exact same thing.

[foxglove03]

Songs to exist frightfully off of…songs to go through the effort of googling “how to put a song on a loop on Spotify” and fall asleep in an armchair after getting home at 8 am…songs that will most definitely kill your mood or revive and slap the shit out of you..

“Lakes of Canada” by The Innocence Mission or covered by Sufjan Stevens. Honestly, this is a dealer’s choice kinda thing but if you’re inclined to go with Sufjan, give the original a chance because it’s just as good. The song holds a very strange catharsis for me. It always brings me back to this terrible period of rejection several months ago when everything seemed very world-shattering. I think if I hadn’t listened to this song as much as I have I wouldn’t be able to look back at all.

“Famous Blue Raincoat” by Leonard Cohen was my gateway drug. “And what can I tell you, my brother, my killer, what can I possibly say? I guess that I miss you, I guess I forgive you, I’m glad you stood in my way,” is not the line to be left to your own devices to interpret for the first time pissant drunk listening to records.

"Against Pollution" by The Mountain Goats is another song where I just get caught on the execution of one particular line. Just "And a guy came in," absolutely caught me. I have no idea what Mr Darnielle is doing but he's doing it completely right. I personally think the simpler songs instrumentation-wise are the best in TMG's discography.

"Roman Candle" by Elliot Smith is the titular song of his first album. So many songs in there that I wish I listened to years ago. I found out about Elliot when I saw The Scene in The Royal Tennumbaums. Then, I just sleepily waded through his music until I hit this. The song possesses a kind of anger and rawness that belongs to someone with no aim toward mainstream success. It isn't a song written for an audience.

"Sadie" by Joanna Newsom grows on you. I have a bad habit of not being able to read the vibe as far as musical accompaniment goes. I will put on my "The Milk-Eyed Mender" CD while friends are over and trying to sleep in random uncomfortable places. Apparently, this isn't a popular choice. Joanna Newsom's music has a voice that's so rough and fragile, that anyone would love it eventually. May take you a bit...

"Casimir Pulaski Day" by Sufjan Stevens is the most vivid listening experience one could ask for. Talk about sustaining, you know? It's where Sufjan shows his personal interest in the art of the short story. I don't remember when I listened to Illinois for the first time but whenever it was, I should separate my life into before and after. I also feel like I didn't really feel immersed in the album until I rode through Illinois and upstate Wisconsin (an area I feel extremely attached to 3,000 miles away from it) on a bus. The song makes me want to take a cross-country bus. They should make those things cheaper. If you get anything from this list, take a greyhound. They're terribly impractical modes of transportation, more expensive than you'd think, and the best environment for some real artistic contemplation.

[quickdeaths]

@nijimx

It was especially rare for Shinobu to have a day to herself. Between school, training and competitions, and dates, seldom did a weekend come with nothing on the calendar. Still, they supposed they wouldn't complain. Her father was away on business until the following week, and she was on short-term rest orders after suffering a minor shoulder injury in her most recent competition. That there were no dates scheduled was even uncommon than those rarities, but drawing too much attention to it would only bring a stampede of annoyances upon them.

Instead, she found herself in Jinbocho, enjoying - for as much as Shinobu Yaguchi enjoyed anything - the quieter atmosphere in her standard attire of a fashionable suit, some light makeup, and her dangling tassled earrings. For things like mass-market manga or light novels, there were far better places, meaning that the majority of those who frequented the neighborhood were either office workers, or those with general literary interests. It was the case that such people rarely spoke with strangers, which allowed the archer to move between the shops, silently browsing, without being disturbed by idle chatter.

Though not explicitly looking for it, Shinobu discovered quite an interesting find near the back of one of the bookstores, gently pulling it from the shelf and flipping through the pages. "A signed copy of So Lingers The Ocean... How unusual." The author was famously quite reclusive, so a signed copy of any of her work was a rarity, and though the particular book on the shelf was certainly used, the condition wasn't beyond what she could accept. Why someone would have gotten rid of it was more than she could guess at, but Shinobu supposed that someone else's poor judgment was to her own benefit.

Admittedly, she hadn't read the book yet, but it was said to be the author's most highly-regarded work, in a bibliography of highly-regarded works. Shinobu herself had read Blue Thread from the Scarred Mountain, her most recent work. Although romance wasn't a genre of great interest to them, let alone heterosexual romance, they had to admit that it had been quite the surprise, the sort of book that was difficult to put down, and kept one thinking of it long after it was finished. If So Lingers The Ocean was as expertly-written, Shinobu was sure she'd find value in reading it.

Without anything else to purchase at this particular store, Shinobu carefully tucked the book beneath her arm and made her way towards the payment desk, where in front a small line had formed. The clientele was largely as she expected - elderly layabouts who had little else to do on a Sunday afternoon except shamble around, overworked salarymen enjoying a brief reprieve from their meaningless lives, and aging housewives clinging to fantastical stories that could never happen to real people, convinced that their savior would come to add intrigue to their otherwise dull existences any moment now.

Although, the person directly in front of her in line, holding a bag with a number of items inside, was someone she'd never seen around before, though perhaps that spoke to both of their busy schedules. "Ah, Miss Niijima, good afternoon." Although they were in different classes in the same year, it was hard to attend school without being conscious of the student council president. "I hadn't expected to cross paths with anyone from our school today." Indeed, most of them seemed not the type to take much interest in long, literary novels, judging by how much complaining filled each and every literature class period.

Largely unfriendly and with a school reputation as both a cold-hearted person and someone who engaged in a number of fights - albeit, fights that were never started by Shinobu herself - she'd prefer to simply go about her business without acknowledging Miss Niijima. Still, standing so close to a classmate for a period of time in a non-school location imparted a certain social responsibility for conversation that they weren't especially skilled in avoiding. "I've found this bookstore to house a number of interesting and unusual finds - imported works, limited-run curiosities, and things otherwise out of print. Did you happen upon anything that especially caught your eye?" Or had she come all this way simply for light novels and manga volumes? Without seeing what was inside her bag, they couldn't say for sure.

[spankingtheatre]

We Hide What Makes Us Interesting

A treacherous trap lurks whenever I socialise. In that strange period of awkwardness when the bubbles of two strangers collide, when our sophisticated social survival instincts begin to speed-read each other.

Them: ”What do you like to do?”

Me, proudly: "Oh, I love to write!"

Them: "That's awesome! What do you write?"

Me: 👀

I'm reticent because erotic writing still seems like such a taboo activity. Whilst a reader can choose their author, a writer can't choose their readers. Hence those of us who write kinky stories are effectively broadcasting our most intimate fantasies to strangers. Some may love us, but still more may think us super-weird. 

So if I do accidentally reveal that I write to a stranger, I might defensively murmur something about spaceships, or robots, or mediaeval fantasy battles between the forces of good and evil. Anything to avoid revealing that what I really write about is folks getting their bottoms enjoyably smacked.

But why is that? Why is sex such a taboo subject? Why are kinks like spanking, which so many enjoy, more likely to provoke scorn or ridicule if we ever dared raise them in conversation, rather than admiration for being so liberated? Why is it considered more socially acceptable to write about magic or murder than masturbation or masochism?

Part of it might be that sex can come across as rather uncanny when put into words. Written sex can feel like an audio-described symphony, something that was intended to be performed, rather than narrated. But I suspect the explanation is more to do with the subtle conventions we human beings have created around intimacy.

In the 2002 Chinese film "Hero" (which is actually pretty good), a central part of the plot is that to protect himself from assassination, the reclusive King forbids anyone from approaching within a hundred paces. Then, a stranger arrives, offering proof that he's foiled a plot and killed several assassins. He wins the King’s trust, and is allowed to approach closer to tell his story more privately. And I think that's a pretty good analogy for revealing our intimate desires too.

If a stranger was to approach me in real life and say, "Hi! I love tying people up!", my initial reaction would be to think: Whoa Mate! Not that tying up is itself weird, I actually quite enjoy it, but having a stranger boldly announce their sexual fantasies out-of-the-blue feels impolite and undignified, bordering on the transgressive. 

If someone we barely knew was to suddenly announce: “I love sex!”, our instinctive reaction would be to consider them braggy and rather vulgar, despite the fact most adults do indeed think sex is a Very Good Thing Indeed. The permission to speak intimately is a special privilege, one we grant sparingly, to our closest friends, and online sources we follow and trust. 

The social conventions we've collectively agreed mean prematurely projecting one's sexual intent onto strangers is regarded as rather creepy. Some will find it quite intimidating, that’s why sexual boundaries exist. Sex is an act of vulnerability, with an inherent physical threat, the risk of being overwhelmed and assaulted. That’s why consent is protected by law in every civilised society. As social animals we’ve all agreed we can’t just do whatever we want when it comes to intimacy, proceeding further requires the continued assent of others.

Sexual revelations feel creepy when trust has not yet been earned, which is likely the basis of our society-wide taboo on sexual disclosure. It exists because most people in the world are indeed strangers to us, we haven't earned their trust yet, so they’re naturally unsure of our intentions. But once we allow others to get closer, that taboo begins to disappear. Once we know them well, we can’t wait to see them naked, and get to know their filthiest thoughts.

How much we reveal depends on how much we trust. Hence when we bump into strangers at parties, we are sounding each other out, analysing our conversations for permission to reveal more of ourselves.

I've been writing for as long as I've been spanking. Whilst other interests in my life have come and gone, these two have persisted. Their longevity has convinced me they're far more than pastimes, they're intrinsic parts of my identity. 

So it feels like such a shame to have to hide such an important part of me, but social acceptance does matter, and I’m mindful I’ve a mask of professional respectability to maintain too. Absolute candour would be great, but only if everyone committed to it. Until then, wearing a mask allows me to write candidly, and walk into rooms without attracting stares. 

Even if you don't write, we all learn early on in our lives that we exist in a judgemental world, and opening up about ourselves can be hazardous. When I first started writing, I quickly discovered if I wanted to write anything remotely interesting, I’d have to make myself vulnerable first. That was scary.

Yet we also discover a kind of generosity when we write, because words are meaningless unless others read them. In writing, we give of ourselves, sharing ideas, and helping others make sense of the world. Through words we confess who we really are, and confront our greatest fear: that we won’t be loved.

Writing expands the horizons of the possible for whoever happens to read it. It permits us to step into the shoes of another life, not just so we can vicariously experience the joys and sorrows of being human, but every complex manifestation of human sexuality too. Stories help us think, they describe desires, and what might happen if we pursued them. We witness how characters change as their wants are satisfied, and find ourselves wondering.

A rich culture needs writers to dare to record unsayable thoughts. We all benefit when messy feelings and confusing emotions are put into words for others to discover, when we can learn about the joys of sensual pleasure in the privacy of our own heads. But we don’t need to tell others we write, not unless we want to.

I often think of that movie’s scene in the throne room, with the mysterious stranger kept a hundred paces distant.

Do we keep others at a safe distance out of fear of offending them, or because they might discover how imperfect and filthy we really are behind our impeccably curated public faces? Are we wary of others because we fear they’ll damage us, or discover us?

Yet once a secret is revealed, its power over us is broken. When the bitter awkwardness of feeling unmasked fades, it becomes just another fact in our ongoing life story. The revelation may even open up new paths, and unlock new life opportunities. Years later we may look back and wonder why we ever wasted so much mental energy keeping it secret at all.

Remember when we used to play Hide and Seek? It was highly embarrassing to be discovered too easily, so all players tried to avoid that terrible shame. But the real thrill was hiding skillfully, being almost discovered, able to hear the panting breath of the seeker so close, but remaining hidden through your own ingenuity. 

But it was also possible to hide too well. To dash so far away that we no longer heard the scuffling footsteps of the searcher, or the excited shrieks of our playmates. This kind of hiding wasn’t fun at all, there was no satisfaction in running away. It just made us feel isolated, waiting alone, worrying our friends might have forgotten all about us. Afraid of losing, we could end up ostracising ourselves.

Perhaps our childhood games intended to teach us an important lesson. That the fun of the game is not in hiding and being forgotten, but in the jeopardy of possible discovery, the thrill being sought, the catharsis of revealing where we were hiding all along.

I have a better understanding of the social waltz we dance with taciturn strangers now. I can see it as a grown-up game of Hide and Seek. Acutely aware of our own imperfections, we hide away, concealing what makes us uniquely special.

We hide the awkward truths that make us interesting, but deep inside, we yearn to be found.

[angkis]

I hope you don't mind, but do you have advices for other artists? I try to draw too, but my drawings never come out looking like the reference, like I'm unable to draw something alike Derek or Stiles, that's frustrating hahahaha

The colouring, the anatomy 😩 you are so fucking amazing!

Thanks for sharing your art pieces with us ❤️

First of all, I'm honored that you ask ME this question, because I'm not very confident (working on it 💫) and it's like a huge compliment that you would even ask.

Llike every other artist, you and me are both gonna be the biggest critics of our own drawings!! I just want you to know that before I say anything else! If you ever feel like you're not getting any better or not fast enough, take a step back and take a look at the bigger picture, go back, look at where you started, it's only a question of time, you're constantly evolving!! <3 Be patient with yourself ~

I'm sure you were thinking of actual advice not the mental part, so I thought of some, but for real, most of what formed my art style (that is constantly changing and is gonna continue to change until I die 👁️👁️) was TIME. I don't always love to draw but when I have these periods of drawing a lot it's always because I'm hyperfixating on something, so finding something you can fall in love with and obsess over is gonna make time absolutely FLY BY.

Don't get discouraged when you're not nailing a character the first time you draw them. I personally only get it somewhat right at like the fifth try (funny enough I'm an impatient person but when I love something I seem to be able to be patient 💀💫) if anything Do it out of spite!!!!!!

Practice is a funny word, I don't like it because it seems like you have to know what you're trying to achieve if that makes sense. Maybe that can hold you back too. Drawing something and failing still counts as practicing. Finishing the best painting of your lifetime counts as practicing. Every time you draw you get better.

Ooooooh an interesting one that I only figured out this year: SPEND (if you can) MORE TIME OUTSIDE AND AROUND PEOPLE because your eyes notice lightings, movements, expressions, COLOURS that you then unconsciously (subconsciously?) keep in your head for later!! And when you are drawing you're gonna UNCONSCIOUSLY use that information??? It's wild (says the person who spent years barely leaving their bedroom) I'm not even exaggerating, my art got out of the blue so much 'better' (different) when I started leaving the house more often. (You might not have this issue tho!! 💫)

Also I started drawing when I was watching a lot of animated movies/shows and it influenced my art so much. When I got hooked on shows with live actors everything changed (again, your brain is putting away so many details for later) I started seeing anatomy more realistically.

One last tip before I stop rambling (and make another coffee 💫) Find a pen that WORKS FOR YOU. My stuff would look so much different if I was using different brushes than I use now. Try as much as you want! Do you prefer traditional or digital drawing? Both have cheaper alternatives (I understand this hobby is not a cheap one in general) I have a bunch of tips for Clip Studio Paint for example! Idk, let me know, I would love to show you my favourite settings that actually make my life easier!! ❤️

Sorry if I'm all over the place, I'm not too good with words 👁️👁️ I hope it's not gonna be like 'I really read all that for nothing' for you sgsggshshsgsh in which case I'M SO SORRY SFSGGGSGSGSG and again, thanks for your question!! I wish you luck!! Keep drawing!! You're gonna surprise yourself how far you can go I'm so serious!!!! ❤️❤️❤️

[mjammies]

maxon come back plzzz (the elite)

ch21-24

Ch 21 

-not the king and maxon leaving to go to asia

-maxon must be 5’8 the way they be describing him

-”call ahead and tell them to go easy on us” maxon you gotta be kinding if you think this girl got ties like that

-oop kriss is taking itttttttt 

-i hate america i really do but this kinda behavior with kriss woulda had me tweaking tf out fr

-”you are such an idiot sometimes” gurl arent you tryna win him and you calling him a dummy

-”he noted the homemade bracelet I wore. He studied it, seeming confuse, then kissed my hand tenderly” america better pray that maxon dont know what the guards buttons look like. America really dumb af.

-not anne finding aspen in america room omgg can somebody jump him plzz, where the hell is this rod when you really need it.

-”he was in plain clothes, not his uniform” bro i think aspen was meant to be a 6 cause this level of ignorance is unmatched.

-”maxon is gone. This changes everything.” ummmmm no it does not, goofy 

Ch 22

-atp they shoulda put cameras in all the rooms cause im tired of them sneaking around

-i dont even wanna read this bitch ass chapter 

-”i dont like talking about him anyway” ofc you dont, only cause he tryna take your girl

-”and the injections, too” yall getting fed and bbls??

-my thing is if aspen really wanted to make change wouldnt he let america be a princess since she'll actually speak out about all the nonsense going on. Cause if you take her, maxon is gonna marry someone else and the exact same shit is going to continue to happen.

-”slowly, he lowered me to the mattress of pillows” i want them both to die

-”there was a newfound confidence there, something instilled in him through becoming a two” why not a one, imagine the confidence a one could have 

-”when this was all over, would i be a two or a one?” bro this wack ass caste system. The only reason cass set it up like this was to make it seem like there was a real competition here, but wth kinda comp is it between a prince and a guard, like sir you are THE HELP,

-america is just greedy asf, maybe she needs a poly relationship since she cant chose. 

Ch 23

-”but elise family says they never arrived” oop the prince and king is mia

-not the king saying they there but elise family wth is they at

-not kriss pulling her in the garden to chat about maxon, this finna get juicy

-”i think you and i might be neck and neck at this point” oooppp she saying yall is equally in the running omggg

-”anyway, he loved it. He said no one had given him a present yet”. Damnnnnnn america you really missed the ball on that opportunity

-omggg he done took kriss to his room and not even miss thing has been

-”anyway he started visiting me during pretty much every free moment he had” im gonna be sick

-he aint even try to kiss her yet, good

-”i dont know how you feel, but i love him” damn. Miss home of the brave couldnt even say that and here go kriss confusing easilyyy

-not the rebels demanding they end the selection, yall dont like a little drama lol

CH24

-broo imma need maxon to get back and soon

-”what if maxon was dead?” girl dont act like you care

-oop waitaminute the king and maxon are coming home tonighttttt, thank god

-”kriss left seconds later. Maybe she was making a welcome home card.” lol i sure hope so

-not the maids fightingggg

-are the maids not also a two? See this why this caste system doesnt work 

-oh wait nvm i guess not

-she back to reading gregory’s diary, im not reading all that tho yall be easy

-damn he wrote a lot

-not she tryna look decent for maxon, i know thats right

-awww not him gifting her a blue bracelett, i need someone who will think about me in a whole different country

-”i didnt find anything for anyone else” period

-broo this could all be hers, but she so slowww 

-”im just really confused about you rn.” GIRL hes the one whose been confused about YOU

-”if you ever want to know anything about me… all you need to do is ask.” now THAT is a man

-”i dont know if im ready to do that yet” whats the number to this palace, im calling in a bomb threat myself 

-maxon gone for days, yall thinking he died, he returns, and this is how yall communicate when he gets back palease.

[atricka8]

As anyone who's tried a real-life D/s relationship knows, it's incredibly important to talk through how you're feeling and what you want and don't want. My wife and I spend a lot of time talking through our feelings and desires, both before and after we play, but we often need to discuss something a few times before we really understand each other. Sometimes it helps to have time to process part of what we've heard before we can understand the rest. Sometimes we have to hear the same thing said in slightly different ways in order to really understand it. And sometimes, reading these stories gives my wife additional insight into what's going on in my head, which can help her understand something I've tried to communicate to her.

That seems to be what's happened to us recently with our discussions about tease and denial play. After my wife read the last part of this story, she mentioned that she was surprised that I really didn't want to cum when she made me cum. I was a little surprised that she was surprised, because we had talked about it before, but I tried to explain again why this kind of play appeals to me.

There are really two main reasons I like tease and denial play. The first one is that it is actually very pleasurable for me, because it's like extended foreplay stretched over days or weeks. I enjoy feeling aroused for so long, not knowing when I will get release. Actually getting the release is often a bit of a let-down, because the arousal goes away.

The second reason is that it appeals to my masochistic side. There is a part of tease and denial play that is torture for me: when I do get really turned on and am not allowed to cum, the desperate wanting to cum and not being allowed is intensely frustrating, and the sensation of having blue balls can be a bit painful. And I know that she likes seeing me frustrated and in pain. It's just like with flogging or spanking, in which I love to take the pain because it gives her pleasure. I really like the idea of giving up my desperately desired orgasm to give her pleasure. After all, what better way could there be for me to demonstrate my devotion than for me to give up my pleasure to increase hers?

I explained all of that, and I told her that I really wanted her to deny me for a longer period of time. I said that I really wanted her to get me really frustrated and blue, and for her to take pleasure in my pain.

I also told her that I particularly loved it when she made me give her orgasms while denying me, because it always seemed to give us a really amazing feedback loop. Making her cum always turns me on, and doing it when I know that I'm not allowed to cum always makes it more intense. And I've observed that she often gets particularly aroused when she's denying me. I told her that I really want nothing more than to give her such intense orgasms that all she can do is collapse and ask if I got the license plate of the mack truck that hit her! She laughed at that, but I think she was starting to understand that I really was willing to be denied if it would give her better orgasms.

As it turned out, though, we were going to need to have one more conversation before things got really good.

The next time we played was on a Sunday, just over a week since our last scene.

After I put our son to bed, Mistress had me strip, put on my collar, put in my dilator, and sit down on the bed in front of her. We were both sitting cross-legged facing each other. She had me put my hands behind my head, elbows out to the sides, so that she had full access to my body.

She started by playing with my nipples and running her hands through my chest hair. She smiled at me and then moved her hands down to tease my cock through its cage. I loved the attention she was giving me.

Then she had me get the leather paddle and the nipple clamps. I brought them back to her and sat back down on the bed in front of her. She put the nipple clamps on me, and I gasped at the sensation.

Then she had me turn to the right and lay down on my stomach. She picked up the paddle and ran it gently over my ass so that I knew what was coming. When she had teased me for a few seconds, she pulled her arm back and smacked my left ass cheek. The blow was hard enough to sting - harder than the slow start to a full warm-up, but not nearly so hard as to be truly hard for me to take.

When she saw that I reacted well to that, she gave me a similar smack on my right cheek. Then she teased me for a while, running the paddle gently over my ass, but smacking me with it at random intervals and in random locations, so that I never knew when the next blow was coming.

After a few minutes, she decided to switch to my shoulders, giving them the same treatment that she'd given my ass. She again started out strong enough to sting, but not so hard that it was truly painful. I could tell this was just playfulness, not a serious impact play session, but I knew she would enjoy it nonetheless.

"Turn over onto your back. Put your hands behind your head."

"Yes, Mistress," I said, complying.

She reached down and started seriously teasing my cock through the bars of its metal cage. I looked down my body and watched her touch me. It was incredibly erotic, feeling the stimulation she was giving me while seeing her hands play with my caged cock. I could see and feel my cock swell as much as it was able to in its confinement, my flesh bulging out between the metal bars. I moaned in pleasure.

After teasing me for a few minutes, Mistress threw her left leg over my stomach as she continued playing with my cock. I figured that she was probably just trying to find a more comfortable position, but being trapped underneath her did make me feel more submissive.

"Would you like me to kiss your foot, Mistress?"

"No. You just lay there and let me play."

"Yes, Mistress."

She kept teasing my cock. It was partly torture, being aroused in my cage, but it was also wasn't fully satisfying, because I wasn't really getting as much stimulation as I would have gotten without the cage on, so my arousal was decreasing a bit.

I craned my neck to try to see over her leg and watch her playing with me, in the hopes that that would increase my arousal again. But she put a stop to that.

"Put your head back down."

I complied but whined. "Oh, but I wanted to watch you play with me, Mistress! It's such a turn-on."

"I said no. I like torturing you by not letting you see."

I sighed in defeat. "Yes, Mistress."

She continued playing with my cock. I could feel her stroking my skin between the bars, and I couldn't help but clench my PC muscle in approval periodically.

After a while, she moved her leg up toward my head. I craned my neck and kissed her foot, and then she moved it off of me.

Next, she picked up the paddle and gave my front the same treatment she had given my back earlier. She ran the paddle over my chest, randomly smacking me on either side. Then she switched to my thighs, teasing them and smacking them as she saw fit.

When she tired of that, she set aside the paddle. "Okay, I think we're done for the night. You are not cumming tonight."

I was a little disappointed that she hadn't gotten me more aroused before stopping, but I was turned on by how she teased me. It may have turned out to be just a small scene, but it was a good start to her exploring how to tease me.

To my surprise, she decided to play again the following night.

After I put our son to bed, Mistress had me strip and put on my collar. I asked her if I should put my dilator in, since I had not yet had it in for the 30 minutes a day she had ordered me to do. She said yes, so I went to do that.

When I was done, she had me come over and stand in front of her as she sat on her side of the bed. She leaned forward so that the key around her neck could reach the lock of my cage, which she unlocked and handed to me.

"Go take off the cage."

I took off the cage and went to put it on my nightstand. Then I came back to stand in front of her again.

She reached forward and played with my cock, running her fingers up and down my shaft and teasing me on my sensitive spots. I moaned in pleasure as I felt myself start to get hard. It had been a few days since I'd been out of my cage, and I was enjoying the feeling of actually being able to get erect.

She continued playing with me for a few minutes. Her teases and caresses felt really good, but there was something about the situation that was slowing my arousal a bit. I'm not sure whether it was the fact that I was standing up instead of lying down, or maybe something about not knowing what she planned to do with me. But whatever the cause, before I was quite fully hard, she stopped. I looked down at her beseechingly, but she just smirked at me.

"You're not going to cum, but you are going to go down on me."

"Yes, Mistress!" I was certainly happy to hear that! Going down on her was one of my favorite things in the whole world, and I knew that she knew that.

She lay back and spread her legs. I went down to my knees in front of her and decided to really take the time to bring her to as intense of a climax as I could.

"I'm going to really take my time pleasing you tonight." I took her left leg in my hand and kissed her ankle.

"I'm going to make you cum really hard." I kissed my way up her leg, kissing the crease under her knee.

"I love that I'm going to be able to make you cum, while you deny me and then lock my cock back up in its little cage." I kissed up her thigh.

"Making you cum is going to get me even more frustrated. But I love being frustrated for you, knowing that it adds to your pleasure." I moved to her other leg, kissing from just above her knee up to the top of her thigh.

"I love worshipping every part of you. I love your sexy mound." I leaned forward and kissed all around her mound, staying clear of her labia at first.

"I love these little furrows on either side of your labia. It's like they're inviting me to stick my tongue into them and lick." I accepted their invitation, licking slowly first up one side and then the other.

"I love teasing your pussy lips." I gently kissed my way up her still-closed labia, starting at the bottom and working my way up toward her clit, being careful not to provide enough pressure to open her lips or cause her clit to come out.

"I love knowing your sexy clit is right here, waiting for me to pleasure you." I repeated the pattern of kissing my way up her labia to her clit, this time giving just a little more pressure.

"I love how much pleasure I can give you this way." I continued kissing her clit, increasing the pressure with each kiss, slowly stoking her arousal.

"I love licking your beautiful pussy." I stuck my tongue just barely between her labia and licked up from her pussy to her clit. I could feel her wetness on my tongue. The sensation made both of us moan.

"I love feeling how wet you are, knowing that I'm giving you pleasure."

At this point, I had turned myself on enough that I couldn't wait to fully dive in! I stuck my tongue all the way down between her labia, ran it all the way around her hole, and then licked slowly but firmly from there up to her clit. I gave her clit several firm licks, making her gasp in pleasure.

As I was kneeling on the floor, I could feel the dilator start to slide out of my ass, which was an annoying distraction. I reached down with one hand to push it back in, and then quickly returned my attention to pleasuring Mistress.

I moved back down to her pussy and repeated the same pattern, licking around her hole, slowly up to her clit, and giving her clit several firm strokes of my tongue. I repeated this over and over again at the same slow and steady rhythm, thoroughly enjoying hearing her gasp and feeling her buck her hips in pleasure.

Occasionally, I would pause between passes to just shove my face into her pussy and turn my head from side to side, covering my face in her delicious juices, immersing myself in her arousal. "Oh my god, I love this pussy!"

I could tell that my arousal was contributing to hers, because she seemed to gasp when I said that.

Unfortunately, my dilator continued to periodically slide out of my ass. I kept shoving it back in, but it was distracting both of us.

"Why do you keep moving your hand?" Mistress asked, a bit annoyed.

I lifted my head just long enough to answer her. "I'm sorry, Mistress. My dilator keeps sliding out." I dived back in to resume pleasuring her.

"Just let the fucking thing fall out!" she cried, a bit distracted.

I probably should have, but I really didn't want the mess on the carpet, so I kept shoving it back in. But I did make a mental note to do my 30 minutes with the dilator earlier in the day from now on, so that it didn't interfere with our play.

At this point, I went right back to the same pattern of licking from her hole up to her clit, over and over again. I can't seem to write about this in a way that doesn't seem repetitive to me when I read it, but it was far from boring - every pass was intensely arousing for both of us. Every gasp she made was a joy. Every time she bucked her hips or cried out, I was filled with arousal, pride, and pleasure.

I could feel her arousal building higher and higher. She started crying out and bucking her hips.

I could tell she was teetering on the edge, so I pushed two fingers into her pussy to rub her G-spot. Sure enough, that set her off!

She cried out and bucked her hips as she came. As always, I was incredibly aroused seeing and feeling her experience that much pleasure. I kept licking her and massaging her G-spot as she came, trying to prolong her pleasure as much I could.

As she recovered, she dropped her legs down, and I moved my fingers out of her pussy to give her room to relax her legs. But I kept my tongue on her clit, continuing to pleasure her, hoping to keep her arousal going for another round.

To my great pleasure, it seemed to be working! After a few moments, she pulled her legs back open to allow me to continue, and I went right back to the same pattern, licking slowly but firmly from her opening up to her clit, over and over again.

I was so turned on and wanted to reach down and play with my uncaged cock, but I didn't think I was allowed to! So I forced myself to keep my hands away from myself, even knowing that this could be the only chance I would have to be unlocked for a while.

I kept licking her, sometimes pausing to dip my tongue inside of her along with my fingers, other times giving her clit more attention. Soon she reached another amazing orgasm, even stronger than the last one!

I kept licking her and fucking her with my fingers as she bucked her hips and cried out in pleasure. It must have gone on for twenty seconds. It was incredible to watch, smell, taste, and feel, especially from such an intimate position between her legs.

Finally, she rolled over onto her side, this time clearly done. "I've been hit by a mack truck!" she joked.

I absolutely loved that I was able to give her that gift, and I really hoped that denying me had contributed to her arousal.

On Wednesday, just a couple of days after our last scene, we played again.

I knew that my wife was having her period, so I knew that this scene would only involve her playing with me - I wasn't going to get to pleasure her. Given that, I was actually a little surprised that she wanted to play, but she had made a comment about spending the week torturing me.

She unlocked my chastity cage and had me remove it. Then she had me lay in the center of our bed and tied me spread-eagled, my wrists and ankles cuffed to the four corners of the bed.

She reached into our toy drawer and got out our silk scarves and her magic wand vibrator. She sat down next to me on the bed and ran her fingers through my chest hair for a bit. I smiled up at her, loving the affectionate contact.

Then she picked up the silk scarves and trailed them all over my body, teasing me with the light tactile sensation. I moaned and shivered, loving the way she teased me.

"You like that?"

"It's giving me chills, Mistress!"

"Oh, good," she smiled, loving the reactions she was provoking in me.

When she tired of the scarves, she picked up the magic wand, turned it up to maximum, and started running it all over my cock.

"Woah!" I was really surprised at how arousing it was! "That feels really good, Mistress."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah!"

I tend to think of vibrators as something for women, not men, but I was clearly going to have to rethink that. The vibrations were really arousing, and I could feel my cock getting hard for her. It felt particularly intense when she held it right on my frenulum.

"Oh my god, Mistress, if you keep that up, you're going to make me cum!"

"Oh really?" She seemed delighted that she had found something that could so easily bring me close to cumming.

She held it in place, watching me struggle as my arousal built and built. I couldn't believe that she could actually make me cum that way!

"Mistress, I'm getting really close! You better stop if you don't want me to cum!"

She could see how desperate I was, so she did stop, but only long enough to pull me back from the brink of an orgasm. As soon as I'd caught my breath, she pushed the magic wand right back against my frenulum again.

I gasped at the sensation and tried to fight my arousal. But it was no use - after just a minute or two, I was right back on the brink again. "Oh god, Mistress, I'm close again!"

Once again, she stopped. Again, she started right back up as soon as I'd had the briefest of respites. Again, I was soon at the brink and warning her to stop.

She lifted the magic wand away from me and smiled at me. "Don't you want to cum?" she teased.

"God, yes, Mistress!"

"Then beg me."

"Please, Mistress! Please, may I cum?"

"You don't sound nearly desperate enough."

"Please, Mistress? Please? It's been over a week since I've cum. I really need to. Please?"

"Well, maybe I should let you cum."

I looked at her seriously. "Mistress, I know how much you like to see me desperate. I want you to see that and take pleasure from it. You don't need to let me cum if you don't want to."

"Okay. Then I'm not going to let you cum unless I think you're really desperate."

It turned out that we had just had a miscommunication, but we didn't realize it at the time. I thought I'd communicated to her that I wanted to be able to beg and plead so that she could get pleasure from my desperation without making her feel like she had to make me cum. But she just thought I was saying that I wasn't quite desperate enough yet. She brought the magic wand back to my cock, and the stimulation once again brought me closer and closer to an orgasm.

"God, I really am desperate, Mistress," I whined. "It has been so long, and I am so close, and I really, really want to cum. Please, Mistress, please may I cum?"

"No."

"Oh, god, please, Mistress? I am so close, so desperate! Please?!"

"No. You are not allowed."

At this point, the intense vibration had me really close to cumming, and I really did want that orgasm. I was actually close to crying, wanting her to see how much she was frustrating me, hoping that it was turning her on to do that to me.

"Oh, god, Mistress, I really need to cum so badly!" I whimpered. "Please may I cum? Pleeeeease?!"

At this point, she took pity on me. "Yes. Cum for me. Now!"

The magic wand was still vibrating intensely on my frenulum, and I really was right on the brink of cumming. Before I could even think twice, I just let go, exploding into an intense climax, straining against my restraints, crying out with each spurt of semen that flowed out of my cock, covering my abdomen and stomach, until I finally collapsed, utterly drained.

"Thank you, Mistress," I gasped.

"You're very welcome," she replied in a satisfied tone.

I didn't know it at the time, but that turned out to be my last orgasm for quite some time.

The next morning, as we were getting up, my wife asked me, "How are your body parts doing?"

"Which ones?" I asked innocently.

She smiled. "Your balls."

"Completely empty." I paused. "Feels like a bit of a let-down, actually."

I think she could tell from my tone that I was trying to tell her something. "Oh, you didn't want to cum?"

"Well, I mean, of course I wanted to. But I could have gone a lot longer than that. It's like we talked about the other day. Part of it is that I do like being kept aroused and not allowed to cum, because once I cum, my arousal goes away, and then I'm not enjoying it anymore. And the other part is that I think you like seeing me frustrated, and when you let me cum, I can no longer please you."

"But you were begging. You seemed so desperate." She sounded a little confused.

"Yeah, I was begging. I really did want to cum, and it was frustrating not being allowed to. But, I mean... Let me ask you a question, because I don't want to assume anything. Does it really turn you on to deny me?"

"Yes, it does. I do like seeing you frustrated."

"Well, then I guess I don't really understand. It seems a little inconsistent, because you say that you like to see me frustrated, but it seems like most of the time when you have the opportunity to frustrate me, you make me cum instead."

She considered for a moment. "Okay, that's fair. I can understand why that's confusing. I do like to deny you, but sometimes I also like to see you cum. It's not like I did it because I felt guilty or anything."

"If it wasn't because you felt guilty, then why did you make me cum yesterday?"

"Well, you were begging, you seemed so desperate. I didn't want to really hurt you."

"I thought you said you didn't do it because you felt guilty. But now you're saying it's because you were worried about hurting me." I smiled gently at her. "Look, I really want you to be able to deny me when you want to, to see my frustration, to hear me beg, and not feel like you have to stop. I want you to have that pleasure without having to feel guilty that you're going too far."

"So you would have rathered that I didn't make you cum?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, I really did want to cum, but I didn't really need to. If I had been really hurting, I could have used my safeword."

"So you don't ever want me to let you cum unless you use your safeword?"

"Well, I mean, not never. But I know I can go more than a week or two. You could definitely make me go at least a month, maybe more. I don't really know how much I could take; we'd have to explore to find my limits."

She considered that for a moment. "Okay. I guess I'll try to keep that in mind."

I think that was the moment she finally got it.

On Friday afternoon, we were snuggling on the couch. She reached into my pants to tease my cock through its cage.

I moaned and adjusted my position to give her better access. "I love it when you touch me."

She smiled at me as she traced her fingers over my skin between the bars, teasing me slowly. Her touch was so light that it made for an incredible tease, and I could feel my cock starting to get hard, my flesh pressing out between the bars of its confinement.

I flexed my hips to try to increase the contact with her fingers, but she kept her touch light, continuing her erotic tease.

"God, I love it when you tease me," I said, looking up at her lustily. "You love getting me turned on like this, don't you? Getting me all aroused and not letting me cum?"

She suddenly looked down at me with a serious expression and said, "I think I'm not going to let you cum for a whole month."

My jaw dropped, and I stared at her in shock. "Really? A whole month?"

"Mmm hmm."

I blinked, still trying to get the idea through my head. I was so surprised that I didn't know how to react. I was torn between arousal and concern. This was exactly what I wanted her to do to me, and yet I somehow didn't know how to feel about it now that it was actually happening.

"You're not going to let me cum for a whole month?"

"Nope."

"Wait... A month from today?"

"When was the last time you came?"

"On Wednesday."

"What was the date on Wednesday?" She checked her phone with her free hand. "The 22nd. Okay, so you are not going to cum again until May 22nd."

I continued staring at her, trying to wrap my mind around what was happening. She was still playing with my cock, but I'm not sure I was actually even feeling it at that point. In hindsight, it was incredibly funny how hard it was for me to accept what she was saying.

"I can't believe this is actually happening. I've fantasized about this so many times, but now that it's actually happening, I don't know what to think. I have all sorts of conflicting feelings."

She smiled at me, still stroking my cock through my chastity cage as we talked. "Tell me what you're feeling."

"God, it's hard to figure out what I'm feeling." I tried to gather my thoughts. "I'm incredibly aroused by the idea of you controlling me like this. I'm really looking forward to being kept aroused for that long.

"But I'm also a little worried about how hard it's going to be. I don't think I've ever gone a whole month without cumming. I've maybe gone a few weeks, during one of the periods when I was trying to save myself for you. But I don't think I've done a whole month before. Hell, before you locked me up, I was used to jerking off at least once a day! I'm worried that going from that to a whole month is going to be really challenging.

"But... I have to admit that as I think about it, I really like the idea. It's like, I'm giving you control of me in a whole new way. It's a whole new way for me to be yours. And it really turns me on to be yours this way."

I paused to enjoy her ministrations for a moment. "What made you decide to deny me for a month?"

"Well, I figured we'd both enjoy having a specific target date. That way, there's no need to negotiate or guess, no temptation."

At this point, between the sheer kinkiness of what we were discussing and her renewed stroking of my aching cock, I was incredibly aroused again.

"God, you have me so turned on, Mistress!" I moaned.

She smiled down at me. "It's really turning me on too."

"Oh yeah?" I smiled back at her. "Do you want me to do something about that for you?"

"No. I'm still having my period."

"Are you sure? I can just use my fingers."

"No, I don't like that during my period. It makes me more uncomfortable."

I was disappointed but not terribly surprised. "Okay, Mistress. I can't wait until your period is over, so that I can pleasure you again."

"Me either. As soon as my period is over, we will play, that very day."

The next morning, I woke up before everyone else, as usual. It was Saturday, so I knew my wife would sleep in a bit.

I was bored and horny, so I spent some time reading tease and denial stories on Literotica, which turned me on even more now that I was actually being denied. It somehow added a new dimension to what I was reading, like I could identify with the characters and what they were going through even more now. I managed to get myself pretty damn turned on and was starting to get blue balls.

When my wife woke up, I told her that I'd been reading stories and was getting a little blue-balled. I thought she'd actually be somewhat pleased, since I was torturing myself more in exactly the way that she wanted me to be tortured. But she surprised me again, telling me that she didn't want me reading stories anymore. She said that she wanted me to be turned on by her, not by the stories I was reading.

I groaned, knowing that she had just taken away one of my primary outlets for stress and frustration. But we both knew that I would obey her.

"Yes, Mistress. My arousal belongs to you."

Her period ended the following Tuesday, but unfortunately, she wasn't feeling well that night, so we didn't play. I was actually a bit frustrated about that, not so much because of the fact that we weren't going to play that particular night, but more because she had said that we were going to and then hadn't followed through. That had actually happened a few times recently, and it always made me feel disappointed.

Over dinner that night, I explained that I found that I was frustrated when I expected to play and then it didn't happen, either because it was one of the nights we had set aside to play, or because she had told me we would. I suggested that instead of having set-aside nights for playing, that she should decide when we play, and she should not tell me in advance when it will be. But this meant that she would need to plan it out in advance (e.g., make sure we eat dinner early enough, tell me to take Viagra in advance if needed, etc).

She agreed, so we decided to try it and see how it worked.

Wednesday night was one of the nights that we had previously had set aside to play, but now that we'd changed things such that we had no predetermined days to play on, I wasn't really expecting anything. However, that night, while we were laying in bed, we had one of those nice moments where we both happened to want attention from each other at the same time.

We had both been geeking out on our phones, but I noticed that she had put her phone down and was just laying on her side, looking at me. I put down my phone and turned toward her. We looked into each other's eyes and smiled. We kissed, slowly at first, our passion growing as the kiss intensified.

Finally, I pulled back, looked into her eyes intently, and said, "I want to pleasure you."

"Oh yeah?" she said teasingly. She reached into my pants to play with my cock through the bars of its cage. "How you doin' down here?"

"Just fine, Mistress." I closed my eyes for a moment, enjoying her touch. "Mistress, let me get ready for you."

She removed her hand from my pants. I quickly stripped, grabbed my collar out of our toy drawer, and buckled it on. Then I lay back down next to her where I had been.

"Ready, Mistress."

She just smiled at me and reached down to resume playing with my caged cock. She teased me for a few minutes, enjoying the reactions that she provoked with her touch, watching my arousal grow. I could feel my cock stiffen and begin straining against its captivity, and I moaned in pleasure.

"God, Mistress, this is incredible torture. It's only been a week since I came, but somehow knowing that it's going to be so much longer before I'm allowed to cum again makes it seem so much harder than it should be!"

She smiled at me, clearly loving what she was doing to me.

"Does it turn you on, seeing me like this, Mistress? So needy and desperate, so frustrated for you, knowing that you're not going to allow me to cum?"

"Mmm hmm. Wanna see how much?"

She spread her legs. I reached down into her panties and felt her wetness. I moaned in arousal at the evidence of how turned on she was from denying me.

We played with each other for a few minutes. Then she let go of me, rolled onto her back, slipped her panties off, and spread her legs.

"You want to pleasure me? Go right ahead."

"Yes, Mistress!"

I was so turned on that I wanted nothing more than to see her cum. I dove between her legs and attacked her clit with my tongue. She was obviously fairly aroused too, because it didn't take me long to get her close to an orgasm.

As she approached her plateau, I inserted two fingers inside of her tight, wet channel, angling them up to hit her G-spot. I slid them in and out, fucking her in the same rhythm that my tongue was using on her clit.

As it usually does, that extra stimulation set her off, and I relished the entire experience of her climax: the sound of her crying out as each wave hit her, the feel of her wetness all over my face, the smell of her delectable pussy right under my nose, the feel of her bucking her hips and tensing up with each wave of pleasure.

It didn't seem like it was the strongest orgasm she had ever had, but it had been over a week since I'd been able to make her cum, and I enjoyed every second of it. It was particularly erotic knowing that I was pleasuring her while she was denying me!

I kissed and licked her slowly as she came down from her peak, waiting for her breathing to slow.

"Did you enjoy that, Mistress?"

"Mmm hmm. But we're not done yet. Go get the paddle."

"Yes, Mistress!"

I hopped up, got the leather paddle from the closet, and brought it back to her.

She propped herself up on her elbow facing me and pointed to the foot of the bed on my side. "On your hands and knees, facing that way."

"Yes, Mistress."

I positioned myself as she requested and stuck my ass out, presenting myself for her to use. She kept me waiting for a few seconds before she swung.

The paddle hit hard right across both of my ass cheeks, making a loud smack, and I grunted with the impact. A moment later, I felt the sting across both cheeks. She wasn't warming me up, but I was already so turned on by serving her this way that I loved the contact.

She continued spanking me with the paddle for several minutes, seeming to enjoy the sound and feel of the impact, the sight of my ass turning red, and the sound of my cries.

When she was satisfied, she put the paddle down and ran her hand over my reddened ass. I shivered at the contact.

"Mmmm, I love seeing you like this."

"Good, Mistress. I'm so glad I can serve you this way."

She continued caressing my ass for another moment or two. Then she took a deep breath.

"Okay, that's enough for tonight. Go put the paddle away and get cleaned up for bed."

"Yes, Mistress."

I would have been perfectly happy continuing to serve her, but I knew she was tired, and I honestly hadn't expected for us to play that night in the first place, so I didn't object.

After I cleaned up, we snuggled up in each other's arms and fell asleep.

So far, I was really enjoying her deciding when we would play!

That Thursday, as we were eating dinner, I asked my wife how her recent appointment with her therapist had gone. She had told me that she was going to talk to her about some of what she was going through in terms of coming to accept her sadism, and I was curious how it had gone.

"It went fine. She suggested that I go online to find other people that are exploring the same things and maybe talk with them about what I'm going through. She said that knowing I'm not the only one will probably make it easier."

"That sounds like a really good idea. You could look at some of the femdom groups on FetLife."

"Yeah."

"Did she seem surprised when you talked about sadism?"

"I don't know. We talked about a bunch of things."

"Oh yeah? What else did you talk about?"

"We talked about how I told you you're not allowed to read stories anymore. She asked me why I didn't want you to do that. She asked if I felt like I was competing with them for your arousal, and I think there may be some of that, but I need to think about it a little more. She asked if I was worried that you were too obsessed with sex, but I said no. She asked if I thought that if you read stories you would masturbate too much. I laughed and said you can't, because I have you locked up."

I was really surprised! "Oh god, I don't believe you told her that. What did she say?"

"She was like, 'Oh, really?'"

I was stunned. For a moment, I couldn't do anything but sit there, trying to wrap my mind around the fact that she'd actually done that - actually told someone that she had my cock locked up.

"That's it? That's all she said?"

"I explained that it was your idea, that you were really into chastity, tease, and denial." She paused. "Is it okay that I told her that?"

"Yes, of course, you can tell her whatever you need to, Love. I want you to do whatever you need to do to be comfortable with your sadism."

In hindsight, I don't think I had enough time to fully process the surprise at that moment, so I didn't know how I really felt about it. But I did want to reassure her that I was okay, because I really did want her to have the support she needed to get comfortable with her own desires. And I knew it was confidential anyway, so no matter how I felt about it emotionally, I knew that there was no logical reason why she shouldn't have done so.

Thinking about it now, as I write this, the fact that she told her that really trips my humiliation trigger. I'm incredibly aroused knowing that someone knows that she has my cock locked in a cage. I can't help but fantasize that she will eventually tell someone else, someone I would have to interact with, maybe one of her friends. But I honestly don't know if I could handle it if she did that. I dearly wish I understood my own humiliation kink... but that's probably a topic to explore another day.

On Saturday afternoon, we were cuddling on the couch, and Mistress once again reached inside of my pants to play with my caged cock. This seemed to be one of her favorite activities lately!

She must have spent ten or fifteen minutes teasing me, running her fingers lightly over my skin, stoking my arousal. My cock was already as stiff as it could get in its confinement, my flesh bulging out between the bars of my cage. I was moaning in pleasure and frustration.

"God, I love it when you tease me, Mistress. Do you know how turned on I am? How frustrated I am, knowing that you aren't going to let me cum?"

"Mmm hmm."

"And it's only been a week and a half!" I whimpered. "I don't know how I'm going to manage a whole month."

I looked her in the eye as she teased me, letting her see what she was doing to me. I could see her smile as she saw how turned on and frustrated I was. I knew she was getting turned on by what she was doing to me.

I was suddenly overcome by the need to demonstrate my devotion to her in the most visceral way I could.

I looked her in the eye intently. "Mistress, I want you to try your hardest to make me cum. I will be responsible for making sure I don't cum. I won't, I promise. Push me, torture me. Make me hurt for you. Please."

She smiled at me, and I thought I saw a bit of arousal and hunger in the expression. She picked up her pace, alternating between teasing me in between the bars of the cage and squeezing me all around - a squeeze that was actually very effective, given how much I was bulging out between the bars.

I moaned as she brought my arousal to the next level, trying to cope with both the intense arousal and the frustration of being denied release. She tortured me like that for quite a while. I don't know how long it went on, but I could tell that she was turned on by what she was doing to me.

She leaned close to my ear and whispered, "Do you know how wet it makes me to torture you this way?"

I moaned, instantly turned on even more by the knowledge that she was so aroused. "Can I see, Mistress?"

"Yes," she smiled at me.

I reached down to try to get my hand inside the waistband of her shorts, but the angle we were at made that difficult. "Go up the leg instead," she said.

I moved my hand down, and after a little maneuvering, my fingers found her pussy. She was incredibly wet, and my forefinger slid right inside of her! "Oh, wow, you really are wet!"

"Did you think I was lying?" she asked, a little indignantly.

"No, Mistress. It's just always so amazing feeling you this wet."

I looked her in the eye as I fucked my finger in and out of her a few times. Then I pulled back to rub her clit.

"Okay, that's enough," she said.

"Don't you want me to make you cum?"

"You will. Later. Now take your finger out of my pussy and lick it."

"Yes, Mistress." I complied, sucking and licking my fingers, savoring the taste of her.

When I was finished, I looked up at her. "I really want to pleasure you, Mistress."

"You will. Tonight."

I gave her a wry smile. "Please, don't tell me that, Mistress. I don't want to be disappointed if it doesn't turn out to actually happen."

She gave me an apologetic smile. "Okay. Pretend you didn't hear that."

I chuckled. "I'll do my best, Mistress."

She continued teasing me for a few more minutes. When she finished, I could feel my balls aching. It took several minutes for my cock to stop trying to escape from its cage.

I really did try to put what she said out of my mind, because I didn't want to be disappointed if we didn't play that night. But as it turned out, I needn't have worried.

That night, after I put our son to bed, I put my dilator in and went back downstairs to finish cleaning up after dinner. It took me about a half hour to put the leftovers in the fridge, clear the dishes from the table, and load the dishwasher. When I was done, my wife was in the bathroom, so I went upstairs to take out my dilator and use the bathroom myself. She came upstairs while I was in the bathroom, and when I was done, I met her in our bedroom.

When you walk into our bedroom from the bathroom, you are close to the left side of the room. The head of our bed is against the wall to the right, and my wife's side of the bed is the far side. She was laying on her side of the bed in a tank top and panties, playing a game on her phone. I sat down on my side of the bed near its foot and looked at her, unsure whether we were actually going to play. "I'm all yours if you want me, my love."

She put her phone down and looked up at me. "I think I want you to rub my feet."

I smiled. I didn't know whether or not that meant we were playing, but I was always happy to give her pleasure, even the non-sexual kind. "I'd be happy to, my love."

"I know you would. Maybe I'll have you give me a full-body massage." She looked into my eyes, seeing my devotion to her. "I think I need to have you pamper me more often."

"It would be my pleasure."

I started to reach for her foot but then hesitated. "Should I get my collar?"

"Yeah, I think so. After all, you are going to serve me, so it seems appropriate, doesn't it?"

"Yes, Mistress. Absolutely." I opened our toy drawer to get my collar and put it on. "I guess I should also be naked."

"If you'd like."

"Yeah, I would. It seems appropriate to me to be naked when I'm serving you."

I stripped off my clothes. I was naked, aside from my cock cage, the leather bracelet that served as my day collar, and my play collar around my neck. I took a brief moment to enjoy the feeling of submissiveness that I got from exposing myself to her this way, all locked up and under her control.

"Go turn on the LED candles, and let me put the fireplace on."

"Yes, Mistress."

While I went around the room turning on the candles, she picked up the remote and turned on the TV, putting on the "Fireplace For Your Home" video on Netflix. We had found that it added a bit of ambiance to the room.

When I finished turning on the candles, I found that Mistress had disrobed as well. She was lying stretched out on her back in glorious nudity, her arms crossed behind her head, her beautiful breasts sitting proudly on her chest, and her left leg angled slightly toward me so that I could start with that foot. Her legs were not quite spread enough for me to see her sexy pussy, but the sight of her inner thighs teased me with what I knew was hidden between them, and I could feel my cock start to swell in its cage at the sight.

I sat back down on my side of the bed near the foot and reached for Mistress' left foot. I started massaging it as best I could, starting with the sole. As I massaged, I tried to look her in the eye as much as possible, willing her to see my love and devotion to her and her pleasure. The first few times, she smiled back at me, but then I saw her close her eyes, concentrating on how I was making her feel.

I smiled to myself, knowing that she must be starting to relax, and I focused on her foot. When I was done with the sole, I moved to the sides and the top, trying my best to massage her muscles and help her relax. I then moved up to her lower leg, using firm pressure as I moved my fingers down from her knee to her ankle, trying to loosen her muscles.

"Do you want more on this foot, or should I move on to the next one, Mistress?"

"I think you can move on now," she said, still keeping her eyes closed.

I set her left foot down and reached for her right foot, giving it the same treatment as I'd given the previous one.

As I massaged her, I couldn't help but reflect on what the two of us must have looked like. There I was, wearing my leather collar, with my cock locked in its metal cage, massaging the feet of my naked wife, who was effectively displaying her body to me, teasing me with what I wanted. And although I don't really have any sort of foot fetish, the image of what we must have looked like made me feel so submissive that I couldn't help but find another way to demonstrate how much I was enjoying pleasing her. I lifted her foot to my mouth and kissed her toes as I massaged her.

As I moved her leg, I could see a bit more of her pussy between her legs, and I could feel my arousal growing. I felt a strong urge to kiss my way up her legs and worship her beautiful pussy, but I didn't know if that's what she wanted yet, so I held myself back.

After a while, she stopped me. "Time to give the rest of me a massage," she said. She turned over onto her stomach, positioning herself diagonally across the bed, with her head near my pillow and her feet near the foot of the bed on her side. "Focus on my neck and shoulders."

"Yes, Mistress."

I straddled her body right below her ass and reached up to massage her neck, slowly working my way down her shoulders. I worked on her upper arms and then made my way slowly down her back. When I'd massaged most of her muscles individually, I switched to pushing my fingers up her back on either side of her spine, each pass starting lower and lower on her back, always ending up on her shoulders.

Running my hands all over her naked body like that was really turning me on. All that separated my cock from her flesh was the bars of my cage. Without realizing it, I had started thrusting my hips into her ass as I massaged her back.

"Ouch! Your cage is poking my ass."

"I'm so sorry, Mistress!" I felt a bit embarrassed, as if I were a dog humping a tree. "Let me move so that's not a problem."

I repositioned myself a bit further up, so that I was straddling her ass, my caged cock lying on her lower back. I kissed my way slowly up her spine by way of apology.

I turned my attention back to massaging her shoulders. She must have liked it, because she pushed herself up onto her elbows to give me a better angle. But when I saw her rise up like that, it took a lot of self-control not to reach underneath her and cup her beautiful breasts. I desperately wanted to do that, but instead I took a deep breath and continued massaging her shoulders.

After a while, she said, "Okay, that's enough."

She patted my leg to motion me to get off of her, which I did. She rolled back onto her back and onto her usual side of the bed, and I lay down next to her.

She reached down and started playing with my caged cock. I was so conflicted in that moment - I did desperately want to feel her touch, but I also wanted more than just some teasing through my cage, which I'd already had so much of recently. I really wanted to be allowed an erection, to feel pleasure all over my cock.

"Please, Mistress, can you take off my cage and let me edge for you?"

She thought for a moment. "Okay. But you are not going to cum tonight, do you understand?"

"Yes, Mistress. I won't. I promise."

"Very well. Come over here."

I got up and walked around to her side of the bed. She unlocked my cage and handed me the lock. I removed the rest of the cage and then walked back over to my side to put it on my nightstand. Then I lay down next to her once again.

"Now, stroke your cock for me. Edge for me."

I looked into her eyes as I reached down and started stroking my cock, relishing the feeling of being able to feel the whole thing, free of its cage.

"Tell me what you're thinking about while you do it."

"I'm thinking about how long it's been since I came and how pent up and frustrated I am. It's been a week and a half since you let me cum! And I know that isn't really that long - I've gone longer than that before. But somehow, knowing that I'm not allowed to cum for three more weeks makes it so much harder, and I so want to cum! I'm so frustrated, but I'm thinking about how much you love seeing me frustrated. It's like a vicious feedback loop: my arousal and frustration turns you on, and seeing you turned on increases my arousal and frustration. I do so love giving up my orgasm to give you pleasure."

"I know," she smiled at me. "I'm incredibly turned on right now."

I perked up at that. "Mistress, may I pleasure you? Please?"

She looked at me with a smile and nodded.

I hesitated for just a moment. I so desperately wanted to get between her legs and worship her beautiful pussy, but I was also loving the humiliation of her watching me edge myself, and I didn't want to lose that. But then I realized that I could have both.

"I'll position myself with my feet toward your head, so that you can still see me edging for you, Mistress."

She didn't object, so I turned myself around and rolled onto my left side, such that my right hand could continue stroking my cock where she could see it next to her. I then leaned my torso over her leg and attacked her clit with my tongue.

I was in heaven. I was worshipping Mistress' pussy, hearing her cries of pleasure, and edging myself for her, giving her the gift of my frustration. I knew she could see how aroused I was, my cock rock hard in front of her, needing desperately to cum.

Our arousal seemed to feed off of each other, each of us climbing higher and higher as we rushed toward our oncoming orgasms, both knowing that only one of us would be allowed to get there. I knew that the pleasure she felt from my tongue was multiplied by her knowledge of my arousal and frustration, that the knowledge that I would stop myself right before I came was bringing her so much more pleasure than my tongue alone would have.

I could feel pre-cum flowing out of my cock. I rubbed it over the head as I continued to stroke myself, the feeling of the slippery fluid on the head of my cock bringing me even closer to orgasm.

I stopped licking very briefly, just long enough to tell her how close I was. "Oh, god, Mistress, I'm so close! I'm leaking so much pre-cum, and I keep having to take my hand off of my cock so that I don't cum!"

I dived back in, licking her clit with renewed vigor. I think my exclamation must have pushed her over the edge, because she started cumming at that moment, and I redoubled my efforts on her clit.

Unfortunately, her excitement also came very close to pushing me over the edge. I immediately took my hand off of my cock and tried to focus on prolonging her pleasure as much as possible, but I was too aroused! Halfway through her orgasm, I was forced to pull away from her incredibly sexy pussy to force myself away from the brink.

I rolled onto my back, my hard cock throbbing in the air above me, yearning desperately for just a little bit more stimulation - a wish that I knew I must not grant it. I was so close that a single touch or a single arousing thought would be enough to set me off, and though I desperately wanted that orgasm, I even more desperately wanted to give Mistress the gift of my frustration.

"I will not cum! I will not cum!" I chanted to myself through clenched teeth.

"Don't you dare cum!" Mistress shouted at me.

"I'm trying so hard, Mistress! I swear!" I thrashed my head from side to side and slammed my fists down at the bed at my sides, trying to will my arousal to dissipate.

My Mistress reached down, grabbed my nipple, and pinched it as hard as she could, twisting it from side to side. "I said don't you dare cum!"

I gasped in surprise. "Owww, that hurts!"

"Is that a good distraction?"

"Yes, Mistress, that's helping. Thank you!"

She moved to my other nipple and did the same thing. I again cried out in pain but thanked her for the distraction - it had successfully pulled me back from the brink of orgasm. I never would have believed that she could be so cruel, but it definitely accomplished what she wanted it to.

"Better?"

"Yes, Mistress," I sobbed, taking in deep breaths, a couple of tears running down my face. I was overcome with such an overwhelming cocktail of emotions; I couldn't help but start babbling about them through my sobs. "Thank you for helping me not cum for you, Mistress. Thank you for helping me give you such a gift. I am so incredibly frustrated right now. I so wanted to cum - I so needed to cum!"

"I know," she said compassionately, stroking my side. "Are you okay?"

I was still sobbing, still trying to get my thoughts out. "Yes, Mistress, of course I am! The frustration, the need to cum, is so intense, so painful. But I don't care about that. I wanted to be frustrated for you. I wanted you to get pleasure from my frustration. More than anything else, I need to give you pleasure."

In my haze, I suddenly realized that part of my frustration was the fact that I'd had to stop licking her in the middle of her orgasm in order to stave off my own, and in that moment, I could not bear the thought that the frustration I had just gone through had been for naught. I needed to give her the kind of intense orgasm that I knew she deserved.

"I need to make you cum. Now!"

Without even asking for permission, I suddenly pulled myself up and moved in between her legs, diving into her clit with renewed vigor. I don't think I'd ever been so possessed with anything as I was at that moment. Nothing would satisfy me until she had had a huge orgasm.

I don't know what it was that aroused her. Maybe it was the intensity with which I dove in between her legs and attacked her clit with my tongue. Maybe it was the leftover arousal from her previous orgasm, which had been cut short. Or maybe it was the sadist in her seeing how intensely I had just suffered for her. But whatever the cause, she very quickly came to the brink of another orgasm, much faster than she normally does.

I wanted to give her all the pleasure I could, so I brought up my right hand and inserted two fingers inside of her, fucking them in and out of her at an angle that hit her G-spot on every stroke. That took her over the edge.

And it seemed to be an incredibly intense orgasm, too - one of the most intense I've ever seen her experience! Every time I thought she had peaked, she seemed to be hit by yet another wave, each more intense than the last, causing her to cry out even more loudly and buck her hips even more strongly. Throughout it all, I continued lathing her clit with my tongue and using my fingers to stimulate her G-spot. Finally, after about four or five waves, she seemed to come down the other side.

I continued gently licking her clit and slowly fucking her with my fingers as she recovered, until she finally pushed my head away. "I'm done. Get up here and snuggle with me."

I climbed up next to her, and she started to turn slightly onto her left side to let me curl up in her arm, but then she hit a wet spot on the bed. "Eww. What's that?"

"I'm sorry, Mistress, that's all my pre-cum."

"Well, clean it up so that we can snuggle."

"Yes, Mistress."

I got some tissues and wiped it up, but there was still a wet spot.

"Grab a towel to put down here."

"Yes, Mistress."

I grabbed the towel from our toy drawer and put it down over the wet spot, and then I was finally able to curl up in her arm.

We snuggled for a bit, relaxing in each other's arms, recovering from the intensity we'd experienced and whispering our love to each other. After a little while, I rolled onto my back to avoid sweating on her so much, and she had me take off my collar. I don't know how long we lay there, but it didn't seem long enough by the time Mistress decided that we needed to clean up.

"Time to put your cage back on."

"Oh, already?" I asked with a sigh.

"Why, did you think I was going to play with you some more?" She seemed a little exasperated, like she thought I was expecting too much.

I was quick to correct her. "No, not at all. I was just really enjoying snuggling."

"Oh, okay." She seemed mollified. "Well, we can snuggle more after we've cleaned up."

"Okay. Let me go turn off all the candles."

I rolled over, sat up on the side of the bed, and turned on my bedside lamp.

"First, get that cage back on," my wife ordered sternly.

"Yes, Mistress," I said. She turned off the TV as I started putting my cage back on.

When I was done, I put away my collar and went around the room turning off the candles.

I was about to get back into bed when she suddenly said, "Wait, I forgot, there was one more thing I wanted to do tonight. Go get the paddle."

I was surprised, but I went to get the paddle from our closet. I came back and handed it to her. "Should I put my collar back on?"

"If you want."

I considered a moment. "Yeah, if I'm going to be serving you, I should have it on."

I got it back out of our toy drawer and buckled it back around my neck.

"Ready, Mistress. Where do you want me?"

"Right here on your side of the bed, on your hands and knees."

I got onto all fours and pushed my pillow up to rest against the headboard, so that I could rest my head on the mattress.

She started smacking me hard on my ass with the paddle, without any real warmup. It stung like hell! I was crying out, gripping my pillow with my fists, and flailing my legs to deal with the pain.

"This is for all that pre-cum you got on my bed," Mistress said.

"I'm sorry, Mistress! I didn't know that wasn't allowed!"

She didn't reply, but she did keep whacking my ass. Sometimes she would hit one cheek, sometimes the other, and yet other times she would smack it straight across both of them at once.

She varied the strength of her blows, making me guess how hard she was going to hit next. Every once in a while, she would give me several very hard blows really close together, making me scream out and rise up to get away from her. Every time, I took a few deep breaths and forced myself back into position so that she could resume again. After one particularly hard set, she asked, "Are you still green?"

"Yes, Mistress. It really hurts. But if this pleases you, I can take it."

"Okay, I'm going to give you ten more, and then we'll be done. Are you ready?"

I braced myself. "Yes, Mistress."

She gave me ten more really hard rapid-fire blows, each one landing right across both cheeks. I barely had time to register how badly each blow stung before the next one landed. When she finished, I collapsed down onto the bed and tried to catch my breath.

"Are you okay?" Mistress asked.

I looked up at her and realized that I was actually crying. This was the first time she had actually reduced me to tears from the pain, and I really wanted her to see it. I moved over right next to her so that I could look her in the eye.

"Yes, Mistress, I'm okay," I said through my tears. "It really fucking hurt. You didn't warm me up at all. But if that's what you want to do to me, if this is how you want to see me, then I want to take it for you."

"But you're crying!" She seemed alarmed. "Why didn't you use your safeword?"

"Because I didn't need to, Mistress." I was still crying a bit, but I really wanted her to understand. "You didn't hit a limit for me. I know how much you like to see me in pain. And I want to give you the pleasure of seeing me that way. I allowed you to hurt me so much that I'm crying! This is my gift to you."

She caressed me and looked into my teary eyes as she thought about what I'd said. I tried to catch my breath and recover a bit while she gathered her thoughts.

"I'm... not sure I'm comfortable with hurting you so much that you're crying."

I lay down on my side next to her, still looking into her eyes. I could see how much this troubled her, but I really wanted her to see that it was okay to want that. "I understand what you're saying. And I appreciate it. And if it turns out that this is not what you want, that's okay. But I want you to consider something."

"Okay."

"I think that one of two things probably happened just now, and only you can say which one it was. And there is no wrong answer - I want you to tell me honestly what you think. And it's also okay to not know the answer right now and need time to think about it. But there are the two possible explanations I can think of.

"We both know that we're exploring new things here, and while we can guess what we might like and dislike, we aren't really going to know how we will react to something until we actually experience it. The only way that we can really know our limits is to hit them, and that's why we have safewords. And sometimes, we may hit a limit that we immediately know is a hard limit. Other times, we may hit a limit just because we are surprised or need more time to process it, and we may decide to try again, maybe even a few times, in order to tell whether it's something we really don't like or something that we just need to get used to before we can enjoy it.

"So I think that what happened tonight was that we hit one of these boundaries. This was the first time you inflicted enough pain to make me cry, and now you have to figure out how you feel about it. The first possibility is that you discovered that this is a limit for you, that this is something you don't like."

She interrupted me. "Yeah, that's how I'm feeling."

"And if that's the case, that's fine; that would mean that this is a limit, and we'll figure out how to work within that. But the other option is that seeing me cry is a bit of a shock, and it's triggering the guilt that we know you're still working through as you come to accept your sadism. And it could be that if you give yourself a chance to accept that it doesn't make you a monster to enjoy my tears, you might find that this is something that you enjoy.

"Like I said earlier, there is no wrong answer. Just give yourself time to process and decide what you think. I want you to know that if you do decide that you enjoy seeing my tears, I want nothing more than to give them to you, and I don't want you to feel guilty about that. I really don't want us to hold back from doing whatever will give you the most pleasure."

"Okay."

We held each other for a few moments.

"How bad was it?" she asked.

"It really wasn't that bad. Honestly, I think it felt worse than it actually was, because you didn't warm me up."

"I know." She hesitated, as if unsure if she should say something, but then she continued. "I do like not warming you up sometimes."

I cocked my head at her. "Oh yeah? Why's that?"

"I like how you react so strongly."

I smiled warmly at her. "You are such a sadist."

She smiled and we snuggled for a little while longer.

Finally, we broke apart to get ready for bed. I put away my collar and the paddle. She put on her pajamas but decided that I should sleep in my boxers, which I gladly did for her. We got back into bed, snuggled up together, and fell asleep.

The following week was a little stressful. Our son had a medical procedure - nothing urgent, a scheduled thing, but something that had already been postponed once due to covid - and there were a couple of procedural snafus that made it take a lot longer than it should have. And then we learned that my wife's father was in the hospital - not covid, and not planned, so she was understandably worried about him. Due to all of that, I didn't expect that we would be playing very much that week.

But Wednesday night, my wife surprised me. Over dinner, apropos of nothing, she turned to me and said, "You need to take a Viagra tonight."

I smiled at her, "Oh yeah? Okay."

Then I thought for a moment. "Do you also want me to put my dilator in early?"

"You can if you want, but I'm also fine if you just skip it tonight."

"Okay, then I guess I'll skip it."

After dinner, I finished putting our son to bed and came into our room. Mistress was trying to turn the TV on to put on the fireplace, but the batteries in the remote were low, so I ran downstairs to get new ones.

When I came back, Mistress had put on the LED candles and changed into a sexy teal babydoll with low-cut black lace bra cups. It showed off most of her upper breasts beautifully, and my eyes lit up seeing her.

"I'm going to go to the bathroom while you get out the toys." As she walked into the bathroom, she told me which toys to get. "We'll need the wartenberg wheel, your blindfold, the crop, the paddle, the strap, the slapper, and our two favorite floggers."

"Woah!" I said, impressed by that list. "Did I do something to piss you off, Mistress?" I joked.

"No. I'm just telling you what I want. You always tell me you want me to make the decisions."

I smiled. "Yes, Mistress. I love it!"

I got out everything she asked for, as well as my collar.

"Oh, and the new nipple clamps," she added.

"Which ones, Mistress?" We had just recently ordered two new sets, one that seemed like it would be more adjustable than the basic set we already had, and a set of clover clamps that I was a little scared of.

"The ones you're terrified of," Mistress calmly replied.

I shivered. "Yes, Mistress."

I laid everything out on the bed. Then I stripped and put on my collar. I grabbed a pillow and kneeled to wait for her in the position I know she loves: heels under my ass, knees spread, hands clasped behind my head, elbows out. This position always made me feel so submissive, presenting every part of my body for her to play with as she saw fit.

As I waited for her, I started thinking about all the toys she'd had me get out, and about her using them on me. I started to get aroused. I would really love to be restrained while she used them.

"Mistress, do you want me to get out any of our restraints?"

"No. I told you exactly what I want. I didn't hesitate or anything. I even put on the candles."

Those were all things that I'd told her I would like, and I did. I felt bad for having made her feel like I didn't appreciate her. "Yes, you did, Mistress. I did notice that, and I appreciate it."

When she came back into the room, she walked over to me and ran her fingers through my hair affectionately for a moment. I leaned my head against her stomach and closed my eyes, enjoying the affection.

"Stand up."

"Yes, Mistress," I said, complying.

"Let's see... I like the ambiance here, so I don't want to go into the other room. But I need to find a spot with enough room." She looked around the room for a moment, then gestured to the side of the alcove that contained the doors to both the bathroom and the hallway. "Okay, come over here and stand facing the corner."

She positioned me facing the side of the doorway at a 45 degree angle, so that I was facing the corner where the wall of the alcove met the wall of the bedroom. I put my hands up on either side of the corner and rested my head just to one side of it, so my forehead wasn't resting right on the edge.

"Spread your legs more."

"Yes, Mistress." I spread them apart a bit. It made me a little nervous, because with my legs spread, my thighs didn't protect my balls from being hit by a stray flogger hit between my legs. But I wasn't going to disobey Mistress.

"That's good, just like that."

Mistress picked up the medium sized suede flogger and started with a simple circular motion on my shoulders. She wasn't hitting me that hard, but it had been a while since she had flogged me, and I immediately realized how much I'd been missing it. I could feel my cock getting hard in its cage.

"Is this a good warmup for you?"

"Yes, Mistress, it's very nice. It's really getting the blood flowing to my skin."

"Good."

She continued flogging my shoulders for a while and then switched to my ass. I pushed my ass out a bit to make it easier for her to strike me.

"That's it, stick out that ass for me."

She started hitting my ass with the same circular motion, giving me a nice gentle warmup.

After a little while, she stepped back, and I heard her picking up the package containing the nipple clamps from the bed.

She walked back over to me. "Turn around."

I dropped my hands to my sides and turned to face her. "Yes, Mistress."

She reached up and pinched my left nipple, pulling it out from my chest. Then she brought the clamp to my nipple, squeezed it to hold it open, carefully positioned it around my nipple, and slowly let it close around it.

I cried out in pain - I could not believe how much it hurt! I had been afraid of these clover clamps, but that's because I knew that they were supposed to clamp down even tighter when the chain was pulled. I didn't realize that they would be so much more painful just clamping on to begin with!

"Oh, shit, Mistress, that really hurts!" I whimpered.

She looked at me, concerned by how strong my reaction was. "Do I need to take it off?"

"No, Mistress, I think it's okay," I said through clenched teeth. "Just give me a chance to get used to it."

She watched me closely as I tried to master the pain. I was breathing heavily, staring down at the clamp on my nipple, telling myself over and over that it didn't look so bad. I stomped my feet, I clenched my fists, but the pain just went on and on. I knew I could adjust to it if I could just last long enough to let my pain receptors get acclimated to it. It was taking a lot longer than I thought it would, but I knew that it was ultimately a question of mind over matter, and I was determined to power through.

Unfortunately, after about twenty seconds, Mistress reached up and took the clamp off. "Let's give you some time to adjust."

I whimpered in a mixture of disappointment and relief. "Oh, no, I was trying to get used to it, Mistress!"

"Well, here, let's try the other side. We'll see if that's any easier."

She attached the other clamp to my right nipple. It hurt just as badly as the other side, and I cried out in pain again. But I did know what to expect this time, and that somehow made it a little easier.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes, Mistress," I answered through gritted teeth. "I'm okay."

She reached up and reattached the first clamp back onto my left nipple, and I cried out again. The twin sensations were intensely painful, shocking me with their power.

After a few moments, the shock wore off, and all that was left was the overwhelming pain, throbbing anew with each hammering blow of my rapid pulse. I found myself actively crying as I tried to process the pain, sobbing with each wave that hit me.

Mistress must have been really concerned about me. "You can use your safeword if you need to."

My instant reaction was intense anger. I looked up at her through my tears and my gritted teeth, and I barked through my sobs, "There is no fucking way I am going to use my safeword! I know it turns you on to hurt me, and I want you to see how much I'm hurting. I'm doing this for you!"

I don't think I had enough mental bandwidth at that moment to understand why I reacted so strongly. But in hindsight, I think there were several facets to my reaction. First, the whole reason that I was accepting this pain was to please her, and I couldn't bear the thought of giving up and losing an opportunity to give her pleasure. Second, I was already in so much pain for her, and I did not want that to have been a waste - if I gave up, she would not experience the pleasure I was trying to give her, and I would have done it for nothing! And finally, and perhaps most importantly, I think that part of me felt like she was rejecting me by not being willing to accept the gift I was trying to give her. Nothing gives me more satisfaction than to give Mistress pleasure through my pain or frustration; it makes me feel like I'm demonstrating my devotion to her in a way that she can't get from just anyone. And when she does not allow me to demonstrate my devotion that way, it makes me feel like she doesn't value the deeply meaningful, heart-felt gift that I am giving her. I know that may not be all that logical, but it is how I feel.

Mistress told me later that she still wasn't sure how she felt about seeing me cry, but she decided to give it a chance while she tried to figure out whether or not she liked it.

"Let's try to distract you," she said.

"How, Mistress?" I asked, still really worked up.

She put her hands on my shoulders and gently turned me back around to face the corner. I put my arms back up on either side of the corner I was facing. My nipples were burning, but my anger had actually helped me start to get on top of the pain.

Mistress stepped back, picked up the suede flogger again, and resumed striking my shoulders. She was still striking me very gently, as if trying to warm me up, but I was barely feeling it - the light strikes with the flogger were being totally washed out by the pain in my nipples.

I think Mistress could tell that the flogger wasn't doing anything for me at that point, because she put it down. I didn't know what she was going to do next, but I suddenly felt the sharp sting of the crop hitting my right shoulder!

Mistress didn't give me time to adjust, though. She repeatedly struck the same spot over and over again, making my skin sting, and finally stealing some of my attention away from my burning nipples. I was so overwhelmed that all I could do was cry out and try my best to process the pain.

She moved back and forth between my two shoulders, each time smacking the same spot over and over before moving back to the other side. Every once in a while, she gave my ass a few swats too, but she kept most of her focus on my shoulders. I could feel my skin burning and the tears in my eyes. It was all I could do to keep breathing through the pain.

After a while, she put the crop back down and picked up the suede flogger again, going back to circular motions on my shoulders. She started out using the same warm-up-intensity strikes that she'd been doing earlier, giving me a brief respite from the pain. But then she started ramping up the strength of her strikes, and I could feel the skin on my shoulders stinging again.

Next, she picked up the paddle and started whacking my ass. She was definitely not warming me up at that point! I cried out in pain, overwhelmed by what she was doing to me.

She came to stand directly to my left, and I turned my head to face her. I sobbed, feeling the tears now actively running down my face.

She ran her fingers through my hair affectionately. Then she leaned in to kiss me gently. I was suddenly overcome with the desperate hope that my submission was pleasing her. I pushed my lips more firmly against hers and kissed her with all my might.

I pulled back to look into her eyes. She had so many conflicting emotions on her face for me to see: empathy, love, satisfaction, arousal, and so much more.

She kept her eyes locked with mine, but she pulled her right arm back, and resumed spanking my ass with the paddle. I looked back at her, grunting with each strike, sobbing in pain. I leaned forward again and kissed her as intensely as I could, as she continued striking my ass.

After a little while, she put down the paddle and started running her fingernails over the skin on my shoulders, making me squirm at the sensation.

"Oh, god, Mistress, that's so intense! My skin is so sensitive right now!"

She just smiled at me and kept doing it.

When she finally tired of that, she moved back behind me to the bed. I don't think I was aware enough to try to guess what she was picking up, but the next thing I felt was an incredibly hard flogger strike on my right shoulder. I didn't realize it at the time, but this is when she picked up the long leather flogger, her favorite one.

I arched my back to give her a clearer target, trying to breathe through the pain as she struck me again and again. I was so overwhelmed at this point that I'm not sure if I was consciously feeling the pain in my nipples anymore, but I knew that the pain was still there at some level, contributing to the state I was in.

"I don't have quite enough room here. Move over to the other side of the doorway."

"Yes, Mistress."

I moved a bit more slowly than I normally do, still feeling a little overwhelmed by the pain, but I complied with Mistress' order. Once there, I resumed my stance from before, hands on either side of the corner, head resting against the wall just to one side of the edge.

At that moment, unfortunately, our son started making noise, clearly not asleep.

"Ugh. Wait here, I'll deal with him," Mistress said.

I couldn't even reply. I just stood there, breathing as evenly as I could, while I listened to Mistress getting our son settled back in.

She came back in, closed the door behind her, and walked up behind me. I guess she thought that my shoulders needed to be even redder, because she started slapping them with her palm as hard as she could. She gave me several slaps in the same spot, first on one shoulder, then moving to the other shoulder, then smacking both shoulders at the same, one with each of her hands. I cried out in pain as my skin took even more punishment.

Then she picked up her flogger again and resumed where she left off. I was too overwhelmed to realize it, but this was the endgame. She was giving me full-strength overhand strikes on my shoulders, alternating between them to spread the pain out.

All I could do was cry out in pain and try to manage my breathing. I could still feel tears on my face, but I don't think I was actively crying anymore - I was way past having the focus for that. I just... absorbed the pain as her blows rained down on me, over and over and over again.

In hindsight, I think that was the closest I've ever come to being in subspace. The combination of the pain in my nipples and the pain from her striking me was intense and overwhelming. I suspect that if Mistress had kept going, giving me more strikes with the leather flogger for a longer period of time, not letting up on me, that I might very well have really discovered what it was like to be in subspace. I don't think Mistress was quite ready for that yet, though... and I'm not entirely sure I am either. But I'd be lying if I said I wasn't incredibly curious about it. In any case, I don't know how long it went on for, but finally she was done. I was actually a little surprised when she put down the flogger and gently turned me around to face her. All I could do was stare at her, hoping that she could see my devotion.

She reached up and gently removed the clamps from my nipples.

I yelped in surprise. "You should have warned me," I whined. "These really hurt coming off!" I reached up and squeezed my nipples, trying to cope with the pain as my blood rushed back into them. After a moment, the pain passed. But I think it did help snap me back into full awareness.

"Are we done, Mistress?" I asked, still sobbing a bit.

"With this, yes. But that's not all I have in store for you."

"Whatever you want, Mistress," I said through my tears. "Just tell me how to serve you. I will do anything for you."

She smiled affectionately at me. "I know you will."

She had me put away all of the impact toys and lay down on the bed. I grunted as the sensitive skin on my shoulders touched the bed, but I lay where Mistress wanted.

She leaned over me so that she could reach my chastity cage with the key on her necklace, and she unlocked me. "Take it off."

I removed the cage and placed it on my nightstand.

Mistress moved around to her side of the bed and sat down next to my upper legs. She reached over and started stroking my cock.

"Oh god," I moaned in delight, closing my eyes to focus on the sensations she was giving me. "I love it when you touch me, Mistress."

"I know you do." I could hear the smile in her voice.

"Do you like teasing me, Mistress?"

"Mmm hmmm."

I could feel myself starting to stiffen, and Mistress switched from stroking to gently teasing me with just one finger. The sensation of her finger sliding slowly up my cock, from the base to the tip, was incredibly erotic.

I opened my eyes and looked down at my cock, watching Mistress slowly stroke her finger up and down teasingly. "Oh, god, Mistress, I am so turned on!"

I watched her tease me with her finger for a few moments more. I could not believe how erotic it was watching her do that to me. It was like watching one of the tease and denial videos I'd seen online - only this time I could feel the sensation that went along with the amazing visual.

I forced myself to tear my eyes away from my cock and looked up at Mistress, gazing into her eyes intently. "Mistress, I know I'm not allowed to cum tonight. But I want you to use me for your pleasure. I want you to tease me and frustrate me as much as you want, just to bring you pleasure. I promise you that I won't cum."

She looked back at me with a small smile that seemed to contain both love and cruelty. "Let's test that. Get the cock rings."

"Yes, Mistress!" I was surprised but very pleased to hear that! I had suggested to her a number of times that we could try putting the cock rings on me to see if they would help me stave off my own orgasm long enough to fuck her to one of her own. I had always wanted to be able to last long enough to keep fucking her through her orgasm - or maybe even multiple orgasms! - but I never seemed to be able to do it. Her arousal had always turned me on so much that when I saw her start to approach her orgasm, it set me off. We had managed to cum at the same time on a number of occasions, but I'd never been able to last longer than she did. But I hoped that the cock rings would help me do that, and it seemed that she was going to allow me to try.

I reached down into our toy drawer and grabbed the box of cock rings. It's the same set of three silicone rings that I've described before. The largest one goes around the base of my cock, under my balls; the medium one goes around my balls but not around my cock; and the small one goes around my cock, right above my balls.

I was already aroused enough that my balls had tightened up and weren't cooperating, so it took me a couple of tries to get the rings on, but I finally managed it.

I looked back up at Mistress, stroking my cock for her. "Ready, Mistress."

She climbed on top of me, straddling my hips, pinning my hard cock between herself and my abdomen. I could feel the heat from her pussy on my cock, and I gasped at the sensation.

She looked down at me and said sternly, "If you cum tonight, I'm gonna flog the crap out of you."

"I promise, Mistress, I won't."

She reached down to try to get me lined up. But as so often seems to happen in real life, we just couldn't get that position to work that night, for whatever reason. Either she wasn't at the right angle, or I wasn't, or we'd spent enough time trying to make it work that I had lost some of my hardness, or whatever.

Finally, she gave up on that position. She rolled off to my right and onto her back. "Let's just do it with you on top."

"Yes, Mistress."

I looked at her as I reached down to stroke my cock back to full hardness. Then I rose up and climbed between her thighs. I stroked the head of my cock up and down between her labia, getting myself nice and wet. Then I lined myself up and looked into her eyes as I sank deep inside of her.

"Oh, god, it feels so good, Mistress!" I moaned.

I slowly stroked myself in and out of her, luxuriating in the feeling of her tight, wet channel around my throbbing member. She felt so incredibly good around me, but I tried my best to focus on her pleasure instead of my own.

Every few strokes, I ground my pelvis into her clit, making her gasp. I tried to maintain a pace that I knew would feel good for her. At one point, she said her shoulders were at an uncomfortable angle, so I pulled her pillows out from under her head.

We looked into each other's eyes as I fucked her for a few minutes. I loved bringing her so much pleasure.

Before too long, though, I had to pause to get my own arousal under control.

"I'm sorry, Mistress. It's just been so long. It's been two weeks since I came, and even longer since I was inside of you. I don't even remember the last time you let me fuck you."

"I know," she gave me a small, satisfied smile. I could see the arousal in her eyes.

I slowly resumed stroking myself in and out of her. "You really like denying me, don't you? It really turns you on to know that I'm fucking you, trying to give you pleasure, knowing that I'm not going to get to cum, doesn't it?"

"Mmm hmmm." Her response was a little breathy, as if the very subject we were discussing was turning her on. She looked back at me intently, her face radiating love, arousal, satisfaction, and just a bit of cruelty.

Unfortunately, seeing how much it aroused her to deny me caused my own arousal to spike, bringing me suddenly way too close to my own climax. If I wanted to continue to bring her the pleasure of denying me, I had no choice but to stop.

"Shit, I'm too close!" I cried, quickly pulling out of her and flipping over to her right, landing on my back right next to her. I clenched my muscles to hold in my orgasm.

I think she could see how hard I was trying to not cum, and she decided to help me. She reached over to my left nipple, which was still sore from the nipple clamps, and pinched it hard.

"Owwww!" I cried, "That hurts!" But the pain was very effective at pulling me back from the brink of orgasm. "Thank you, Mistress."

"Of course. But we wouldn't want to leave the other one out, would we?"

She then did the same thing to my right nipple, making me cry out again. "Ow! Those are still sore from the clamps, Mistress."

"Well, I figured the pain would help distract you from cumming."

"You were right, Mistress. Thank you." I took a few deep breaths, then turned my head to look at her. "Did you like seeing me struggle like that?"

She smiled that satisfied smile again. "Mmm hmm."

I couldn't help but be turned on by her sadism. I hopped up off the bed and reached over to try to pull her toward me by her ankles.

"Hey! Use your words, don't just grab me."

"Sorry, Mistress," I said, letting go.

She moved over to the side of the bed where I wanted her and spread her legs for me. I kneeled on the side of the bed and slid back inside of her.

I tried so hard to fuck her to orgasm. I looked into her eyes intently as I fucked her, so that she could see my arousal and desperation.

"I really want you to cum for me, Mistress, knowing that I'm not allowed to cum. I want you to see my frustration. I want you to know that I am giving you my orgasm as my gift to you, giving up my pleasure for yours."

I increased my pace, trying desperately to make her cum, and I could see the pleasure in her eyes. But as always, my own arousal was climbing right along with hers. The cock rings didn't seem to be helping much.

At this point, I was again getting desperate to cum. I stared intently into her eyes, slowly pistoning in and out of her, chanting "I will not cum!" over and over, anguish plain on my face for her to see. I think the intensity of knowing how frustrated I was really started to get to her, because I could see her approaching an orgasm.

Unfortunately, seeing her so close to cumming always turns me on, and this was no exception. I tried so hard to keep going long enough to make her cum, but in the end I just couldn't do it.

Before she could cum, I was forced to pull out of her, closer to cumming than I've ever been in my life without actually doing so. I clenched down as hard as I could, I pinched my own terribly sore nipples, willing my orgasm away with all my strength. I felt a small spurt leak out of me, and I clenched down harder. I tried reaching down to squeeze my cock with my hand, but that didn't help - if anything, it gave me a bit of added stimulation, and I immediately pulled my hand away again, refusing to touch myself further, and I think another small spurt leaked out. I stomped around and clenched down more, desperately wanting to cum but even more desperately wanting to give my Mistress the pleasure of my frustration. Finally, I felt myself come down from the brink of arousal, and as I unclenched my muscles, I felt one last small spurt leak out of me.

I sobbed in frustration, feeling so forlorn that I was not even sure what had just happened. Had I cum? Or had I succeeded in suppressing my orgasm? I knew I had felt a few small spurts escape, but I had been so desperately focused on not cumming that I knew that I had not experienced anything like the pleasure of a full orgasm.

Then I looked down at my Mistress, still laying with her legs spread at the edge of the bed, and I became even more distraught at the realization that I had been forced to stop before making her cum. I seemed to still be mostly erect, so I stepped up to her again.

"Mistress, I still need to make you cum!"

She helped me line back up with her sopping wet hole, and I tried to sink back inside of her, but it didn't work for more than a few strokes.

"What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry, Mistress. I guess I'm too soft," I said. Maybe I had cum after all, I thought miserably to myself.

"Well, then get down there and finish me with your tongue," she ordered.

"Yes, Mistress!" That I could certainly do!

I immediately dropped to my knees and dived in, worshipping her clit with my tongue. I was surprised at how aroused she still was! She quickly started moaning again, acting like she was fairly close to cumming - much closer than I expected her to be after I had been forced to pull out earlier. I moaned, realizing that watching my intense struggle to avoid cumming must have really turned her on.

I brought my right hand to her pussy and inserted my first two fingers, angling them up to massage her G-spot like I know she loves. I increased the pressure on her clit with my tongue, licking her clit and fucking her with my fingers in unison.

Before long, she was there! She cried out and bucked her hips, cumming on my face.

I was so happy that she came so quickly, knowing how aroused she must have been for that to happen. But I didn't stop - I knew her second orgasm is usually more intense than the first, so I kept right on going, continuing the same firm pressure on her clit with my tongue and the same firm fucking motion with my fingers on her G-spot.

Amazingly, she didn't even pause after her first orgasm, and with only a brief delay, she launched into her second one. She cried out even louder and bucked her hips even more strongly, and I could feel her pussy clench around my fingers. This climax lasted quite a while, and I fully expected her to push me away as she came down.

But much to my surprise, she let me keep going, and moments later, she exploded into a third amazing climax! This one seemed like it was not quite as strong as the second one had been, but it was still a lot more intense than her average. I could not believe that she'd let me give her three orgasms at once!

Finally, though, she had had enough. She brought her legs down and pushed me away from her delectable pussy.

I gently kissed her all over her mound and her thighs as she came back down to earth, feeling so grateful to have a Mistress as amazing as she is.

When she had caught her breath, I crawled up onto the bed next to her, and we held each other for a bit, cuddling and whispering our love for each other.

Finally, we got up to get cleaned up. Mistress made me put my cage back on right away and then went to shower as I cleaned up. I put away the remaining toys, turned off the candles, and went downstairs to get us a snack.

When Mistress finished showering, we got into bed and snacked while we debriefed. She told me that she was still trying to figure out how she felt about me crying in pain, but that she was trying to let it happen as she explored it, and I encouraged her to continue doing that. I told her that I loved everything she had done; my only disappointment was in myself for letting a few spurts escape. I explained that I had certainly not actually had a pleasurable orgasm, but I had clearly let some semen out, so I wasn't feeling quite as much pressure in my balls as I should have been. She seemed more understanding about it than I was, but I knew it was something I was going to need to work on.

Eventually, we were both so exhausted that we lay down and fell asleep in each other's arms.

As I write this, it's been two and a half weeks since Mistress allowed me to cum, and I've got two more weeks to go. I have experienced some of the most intense denial of my life, and I have found it so incredibly fulfilling. I can't wait to see what Mistress has in store for me next!

On Mother's Day, I made my wife breakfast in bed. She had a lazy day to herself, spending most of it upstairs in our room watching TV, while I took care of our son downstairs.

Later in the day, she came downstairs and we all went out to hang out in the back yard.

At one point, she pulled me down for a kiss. I think she could tell that I was really wanting some attention. "Don't worry, we'll play soon," she said.

We had previously discussed the fact that I didn't want her to tell me in advance when we were going to play, since she had often set my expectations and then not followed through. So I really wished that she hadn't said anything at all.

I think she could tell that I was unhappy with what she'd said, so she tried to clarify. "I'm not telling you exactly when, but soon."

The clarification didn't really help; I knew her well enough to know that what she meant was either that night or the next one, so she'd already set my expectations. But she obviously already knew that I was unhappy she'd said something, so I didn't want to make a big deal out of it.

The next day, after I finished work, she seemed to be tired. I suggested that she go upstairs and have some quiet time while I watched our son.

She got up to go upstairs, gave me a kiss, and said somewhat apologetically, "I wish I had enough energy to play tonight."

After she had set my expectations the previous day, I was frustrated, but I was trying not to make a big deal out of it. After all, there was nothing she could have done about it at that point - she couldn't go back and unset the expectations, and I didn't want us to play that night just because she felt sorry for me.

"It's okay, Love. I hope you feel better." I tried to keep the disappointment out of my tone.

I think she could tell I was unhappy, but she just gave me a small smile and then went upstairs to rest.

In retrospect, I probably should have told her how I felt. This is a bad habit of mine: I find it very hard to be selfish, and few things make me feel as selfish as expressing my disappointment in her not doing something that I want, especially when I can see that she's not feeling well. I know that the result of my saying something is just going to be to make her feel bad, and it's not going to change the practical outcome anyway, so why bother? I do know that it's important to make myself express my feelings anyway, because it's important for both of us to be vulnerable with each other and share how we're feeling, even when it doesn't seem like it can't affect the immediate outcome. But it often takes me a little while to get to the point where I realize that something is bothering me enough that I need to say something about it.

That evening, I was going to discover that that actually wasn't the only thing I'd been needing to say something about.

I was still a little upset when she came back downstairs for dinner a couple of hours later, although I was still trying not to show it. As we sat down to eat, I asked her, "Did your rest help?"

She was acting all up-beat, although I felt like she was just trying to cheer me up. "Yeah, it did. I am feeling a bit better."

"Good, I'm glad," I said, without much emotion.

She looked at me. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm okay, Love."

She smiled. "Good. Tonight, I want you to take a Viagra."

Unfortunately, after what had happened earlier, I wasn't in the mood to play anymore. I shrugged. "Okay, if you want," I said without much enthusiasm.

"What's wrong?"

"I know you're not feeling up to playing tonight, and I don't want you to play just because you feel bad about disappointing me."

"It's not because I feel bad, I really want to play."

"That's not how you've made me feel, Love. It's like..." I paused for a bit to put my thoughts together in a coherent way. "I want to feel desired. I want to feel like you want me. Right now, I don't feel like that. I feel like you weren't feeling up to playing, but then you saw how disappointed I was, so you're doing it because you feel sorry for me. That's not what I want. Honestly, it completely ruins it for me."

She considered what I'd said, and I could see that she was actively working hard not to react defensively. "Okay, that's fair. I didn't mean to make you feel like that, but I do understand why you do."

"I know you didn't, Love. I've never once felt like you did something to intentionally hurt me. But I'm still really frustrated."

We had a long talk after that, starting right there at dinner and continuing in bed that night. As these conversations sometimes do, we wound up branching out and talking about a number of subjects related to our D/s relationship.

I explained that I really wanted to know that I could please her and to feel desired. That's why I wanted her to be the one to initiate play: for most of our marriage, I had been the one to initiate sex, and she had turned me down often enough that it made me feel undesired. I explained that one of the things I really loved about our recent exploration of kink was that it had finally allowed me to find things that turn her on. I really wanted her to take advantage of the gift of submission that I was offering her, to fully revel in her control over me in a way that made it clear that she valued it and that it brought her pleasure, but I didn't feel like she was really letting herself do that. I'd been trying to encourage her to explore to find more things that she'd enjoy, in the hope of finding something that turned her on enough to overcome any reticence she might feel and allow her to fully embrace her desires. But unfortunately, she always seemed initially hesitant about any new idea, which made me feel like she wasn't as interested as I was in exploring things that she might enjoy.

She explained that one of the reasons why she wasn't really letting herself go was that she was worried about going too far. She didn't want to really hurt me, and she didn't want me to be upset at her. I tried to assuage her concern by asking her what she thought the worst case would be. She said that if I passed out and she had to call 911, she didn't know how she'd explain to the EMTs what was going on. I told her that I knew she could do that if she needed to and that I trusted her to put my life and health ahead of any embarrassment she might feel.

She said that she was worried that she might hit some sort of limit for me. I told her that I think we probably would hit a limit at some point; in fact, I thought that we needed to do that in order to find out where our limits actually were, because we probably had limits that we couldn't know were there until we actually encountered them. I promised her that as long as we did that carefully and together, I would not be upset when that happened.

We agreed that part of the problem was that she was having a hard time trusting that I would actually use my safe-word when I needed to. I told her that the reason I hadn't had to do that yet is that we hadn't hit any real limit yet, but I promised her that I would use it if I needed to. I agreed that I would be extra conservative in deciding when to use my safe-word, to help her gain confidence that I would use it when I needed to.

We also talked about the fact that I felt that she sometimes still exhibited people-pleasing behavior, which was something that she'd really made great strides in over the last year or so. I felt that when she told me that we'd play soon, it was because she saw that I was needing some attention and was thinking more about trying to make me feel better than about the fact that she knew that I didn't want her to tell me in advance when she was planning to play. But she said that she actually was just trying to build my anticipation when she said that. I accepted that, but I gave her another example: she often gave me choices about what we were going to do in a scene. I told her that I would rather that she not ask and just do what she wants, so that I could have confidence that she was doing what she wanted, not what she thought I wanted. I explained that I wanted to be able to trust that when she tells me to do something, that she is doing it because it's what she wants, not because she's trying to find something that I will like. I think we gained some mutual understanding on this issue, but I don't think we fully solved it; it was definitely something that we were going to have to continue working on.

Toward the end of the conversation, she suggested that one good way to decide what to do in a given scene would be to have a suggestion box. The idea would be that I could write down ideas on little pieces of paper and put them in the box, and for scenes where she didn't necessarily have something particular in mind, she could go into the box and pick out one of the suggestions to determine what we would do that night.

"I'm certainly fine with that if you want, Mistress," I replied. "But to me, it's basically the same as you telling me what to do; either way, I don't have control over it. And there are always going to be some activities in the hat that you don't like as well as others, or that you aren't in the mood for that particular day. So I'd generally much rather have you choose, because that way I can be more confident that it's really what you want. But we can certainly do it if you want."

I also had a suggestion for her. "You know, you could also give me challenges. For example, you could tell me that I'm not allowed to cum until I can fuck you long enough for you to cum."

I could see that idea spark her interest. "I would really like you to be able to do that."

"I would too, Mistress."

"So how are you going to make that happen?"

"I can try exercising my PC muscle." It was a technique that I'd heard of but hadn't really been motivated enough to try before.

"Okay. Then I want you doing that every day."

"Yes, Mistress. I'll start right now."

When I was done with my exercises, we curled up in each other's arms and went to sleep. I think we both felt a lot closer from having talked out so many issues that had been affecting us.

The next day, as I was working, my wife sent me a couple of teasing photos of her holding the key to my chastity cage. She got me aroused just thinking about how much she controlled me. Then, like the sadistic Mistress she is, she told me to go back to work.

It took me a few minutes to really get my attention refocused on work.

That afternoon, my wife had an appointment with her therapist. She had told me before the appointment that she was going to be talking with her about her efforts to understand and accept her sadism. After that appointment, I asked her how it had gone.

She said that she'd told her therapist about her concerns about losing control and really hurting me. Her therapist advised her to be self-aware, which I completely agreed with. But she also advised her that when she has negative energy (like when she's stressed or upset about something), she should not take that out on me, because that could lead to abuse.

I was not happy to hear that, because I wanted her to be able to use me as an outlet when she was stressed. We had done that in one of our previous scenes, where she had taken out her frustrations over the covid pandemic on me, and we had both been very satisfied with the outcome. I didn't want her to lose the ability to have that outlet, so I tried to make it clear to her that I didn't think the reason that she wanted to do something really mattered; I said that I thought it would be abuse only if she did something to me without my consent, such as ignoring a safe-word or an agreed-upon limit. I think she understood what I was saying.

After dinner that night, she came up behind me and leaned in to kiss, lick, and nibble on my ear. I shuddered, enjoying the sensation. Then she whispered, "Tonight, after you put our son to bed, you are going to take a Viagra, strip, and sit on the floor in our room to wait for me."

"Yes, Mistress." I smiled and luxuriated in her touch for a moment. "Do you want me to put in my dilator early, or should I just skip it tonight?"

She knew my hemorrhoid had been flaring up the previous day. "How's your ass feeling?"

"It's been okay today so far."

"Well, that's good, but I think let's make sure you're all healed. Skip it tonight."

"Yes, Mistress."

"It's really too bad," she said teasingly, "because I was looking forward to pegging you again."

I smiled. "Oh really?"

"Yup. After all, how can I get better at it unless we practice?"

"Good point, Mistress."

She went upstairs to use the bathroom and get ready. I finished cleaning up and then brought our son upstairs to give him a bath. I took a viagra before I put him in the tub, so that it would have time to get into my system. When I'd finished getting him to bed, I came into our room.

Mistress had turned off the lights and turned on the LED candles. She was laying on the bed on her stomach, playing on her phone. I noticed that she'd changed into a sexy leather miniskirt and a leather top, but I couldn't see the front of it, so I didn't know which one.

I quickly stripped and told her I needed to go to the bathroom before we started.

While I was in the bathroom, she said, "You didn't even comment on my outfit."

"I'm sorry, Mistress. I did notice that you look good, but I couldn't see the outfit clearly!"

"Uh huh, likely excuse," she teased playfully.

When I finished, I came back into our room, took my collar out of our toy drawer, buckled it around my neck, and kneeled down next to the bed facing her.

She put down her phone, and we looked into each other's eyes. I felt content, happy to be there submitting to her again.

She smiled at me. "Feeling better now?"

"Yes, Mistress. Kneeling here before you feels so right. I love submitting to you."

She wrapped her arms around me, and I let my head fall forward, relaxing into her embrace. I didn't plan it that way, but I was looking down into her cleavage. I could now tell which top she was wearing, and it was one of my favorites: a sexy leather corset with laces up the front. But what really drew my attention was the sight of the key to my cage, nestled snugly between her beautiful breasts.

"You look incredibly sexy, Mistress. And I love seeing my key around your neck."

She picked up the chain and twirled the key in front of my eyes. "I know you do," she said with a smirk.

I looked back into her eyes. "I'm starting to get hard in my cage just from being here like this with you, Mistress."

She smiled at me.

We stayed close for another minute or two, just enjoying our closeness.

"Okay, here's what I need," she said. "The long-tail flogger, the paddle, the strap, and the slapper."

I gathered the toys she requested, laying them out on the bed.

"We also need the nipple clamps."

"Which ones? Your favorite new toys?" I asked with a smile, referring to the clover clamps that she had so enjoyed using on me the previous week.

"Yes."

I got them out and laid them on the bed next to the other toys. Then I went back to kneel down in front of Mistress again. I tilted my head forward so that our foreheads were touching, and we looked into each other's eyes again.

"Mistress, are you going to try to really let yourself go tonight and enjoy your sadism?"

"I'm going to try, yes."

"Good. I promise, Mistress, I will be very conservative about deciding when to use my safeword."

"Thank you. I appreciate that."

We held each other for another moment or two. Then she took a breath and said, "Get on all fours on the floor, facing that way."

She motioned to my right, the direction of my nightstand. I got down on my hands and knees as she requested, waiting for what she would do to me.

I heard her pick up one of the toys, although I didn't know which one until I felt it hit my ass: the leather paddle, striking me right across both cheeks. It was a sort of medium-strength blow: not a fairly light warm-up blow, but also not a super stingy blow.

"Hey, this is actually a good angle for me." She was still laying on the bed on her stomach, but she was obviously well positioned to strike my ass.

"Good, Mistress," I smiled. "I'm glad."

She continued striking me with the same strength for a minute or two, then switched to hitting my cheeks individually, slowly ramping up the strength of her blows. Because of the angle she was at, striking from the bed on my left, her strikes on my right cheek were far more stingy than those on my left. But both were starting to get hard enough to really hurt, and I cried out in pain.

Unlike in the past, where she has let up for a bit when I cried out, this time she kept going. The strikes were coming so close together that the pain was building on top of itself in a very intense way.

I tried so hard to keep still for her as she continued to strike me, but I couldn't manage it. I squirmed my ass around, instinctively trying to get it away from her blows, even though I really didn't want to. I flailed around with my lower legs, trying to cope with the pain.

Finally, she paused in her strikes. I got myself recomposed and got back into position, making sure to pull my legs together to protect my balls hanging between them.

She resumed striking me, and before long, I was again in enough pain to be squirming around, trying to get away from her blows. She had to pause again to let me get back into position.

"You need to stay still," she chided.

"I'm sorry, Mistress. I'm trying, but I'm having a really hard time." I thought for a moment. "Is it okay if I go down on my elbows?"

"Yes."

I folded my arms in front of me and lay my head down on them. "Ready, Mistress."

"Remember, you can always use your safeword. You know you can say yellow. That doesn't mean that we're ending the scene; it just means that you need me to pause."

"Yes, Mistress. I'll remember."

She resumed paddling me. Yet again, I was not able to keep still, instinctively trying to lower my ass away from her blows, but this time she followed me down. "I'm not going to pause unless you use your safeword," she said, continuing to strike me.

I tried to hold it together for another couple of blows, but I couldn't. "Yellow!" I screamed.

Mistress stopped immediately. Even after she stopped, my ass felt like it was on fire, and I continued squirming around and flailing my lower legs, trying to cope with the pain. Finally it receded enough that I could stop moving, but I was still breathing very quickly.

"Are you okay?" Mistress asked.

"Yes, Mistress. I just need a minute to get myself back together." I put my head down on the ground and forced myself to calm my breathing and reset myself a bit.

"Okay, Mistress. Green."

She resumed striking me. I hadn't noticed her changing implements, but the pain was much sharper this time. I realized later that she had switched from the paddle to the strap.

Again, it quickly got intense. I grabbed onto my pillow, shoved my face into it to scream, and tried to bear it. Eventually, I screamed "Yellow!" again.

Again, she paused to let me recompose myself.

"Green, Mistress."

Another set with the strap, and another eventual "Yellow!"

The strain of trying to hold my position was really getting to me by this point. "Is it okay if I just lay flat, Mistress? It's just too hard to keep my position on my knees."

"Okay."

"Thank you, Mistress."

While I was readjusting, Mistress got up and walked around the bed, so that she was now sitting on the edge of the bed instead of laying flat on it.

By the time she got settled in, I was ready for more. I took a deep breath. "Green, Mistress."

Another set on my ass, this time with the paddle again. Another "Yellow!" As I was still trying to recover my composure from the stinging in my ass, Mistress said sweetly, "Let me give your ass a break."

She started striking my shoulders. The pain was intense, not so much because of the strikes themselves, but because I hadn't been ready for them. I had been expecting Mistress to wait until I called "green" to resume, but she didn't. (We talked about this later, and she had interpreted my "yellow" to just mean that my ass needed a break, not that I needed a break from everything. In hindsight, we should have clarified that up front.)

I had been a little too preoccupied to notice her switching implements, but she was using the crop this time. She would pick a spot on one of my shoulders and repeatedly strike it over and over before moving on to the other shoulder to repeat the same treatment there. And she was really going at me hard, not holding back at all.

After a few rounds of this, I again screamed, "Yellow!"

I took a few moments to recenter myself and slow my breathing. Then I braced myself and said, "Green."

Mistress resumed striking me with the crop. By this point, the pain was really intense, and I found myself actively crying. "Yellow!"

She stopped immediately. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, Mistress," I sobbed through the pain. "I just need... I'm just trying to figure out how to cope with the pain."

"If it makes you feel any better, this is making me sopping wet."

I was incredibly happy to hear that, although it somehow made me sob even harder. I was overwhelmed by emotion and needed some reassurance from Mistress. I got up on my knees and turned to get a hug from her.

She held me for a few moments as I sobbed.

"Let's try something different."

I thought I heard her pick up the nipple clamps, and I pulled back from her embrace to see what she was doing. Sure enough, she was holding the evil things up, intending to put them on me.

"Oh, god, Mistress, I really hate those things." I still wasn't completely calm, but she wasn't giving me time to process anything before we moved on to the next thing.

"I know," she smiled. "Hmm, will you be able to lay down on your stomach again once these are on?"

"I don't know, Mistress," I choked out. "I guess we'll find out."

"Which one do you want me to put on first?"

"I don't care," I sobbed. "Whichever one you want. Just get it over with!"

She reached down to try to get one of the clamps on my right nipple, but she couldn't get the angle right. "Stand up."

"Yes, Mistress."

She clamped my right nipple, and I cried out in pain. She quickly clamped the left nipple as well. I clenched my fists and cried out, trying to adapt to the burning in my nipples.

I stomped my feet and turned around. I knew I needed a distraction, so I turned my ass to face Mistress and said, "Please spank me, Mistress! Hard, on both cheeks!"

I expected her to use her bare hands, but she used the strap instead! She gave me several hard blows with the strap, and I quickly cried out. "Woah, stop, stop!"

Mistress stopped. "What? I thought you wanted me to spank you."

I laughed through my tears at our misunderstanding. "Yeah, but I meant with your bare hand, not with the strap!"

She laughed as well as I caught my breath. At least the fresh pain had succeeded in helping me adjust to my aching nipples!

I was about to go back down onto my stomach, figuring that she'd want to continue where we left off now that she had the clamps on, but she interrupted me. "Stay standing. Hands on the wall."

The wall in front of me was a fairly narrow wall, only a couple of feet wide, positioned in between the door to our closet and the alcove containing the doors to the bathroom and the hallway. I put my hands up and grabbed onto both sides of the wall, wrapping my fingers around the doorways to keep myself in place. Then I leaned forward to rest my forehead on the wall.

She resumed striking my ass with the strap. After ten or twenty strikes, I was crying out in pain again. I held out as long as I could, but when I could bear it no more, I shouted "Yellow!" again.

She gave me a moment to recover, then I gave her the okay to resume.

She did another set with the strap. The pain was intense, and I quickly cried "Yellow!"

This time, when I was ready to resume, Mistress switched to the crop, striking my shoulders, just as she'd done earlier. But my shoulders were still on fire from earlier, and it quickly became overwhelming.

"Yellow!" I screamed. I was in so much pain that I screamed out some insane string of expletives. "Goddam son of a pigfucking bitch!"

Mistress laughed. "Don't mince words, tell me how you really feel."

"I hate that goddamn crop!"

"Oh, that's no way to talk about the crop. You're going to hurt its feelings." She brought the crop over my shoulder, next to my face. "Kiss it and tell it you love it."

I groaned and quickly touched my lips to the crop, sarcastically saying, "Oh yes, I love the crop."

"That wasn't sincere," she said sternly, obviously enjoying herself. "You better tell it the right way, or I'm going to take the strap to your ass again."

I smiled. Hearing how much she was loving this was more than enough to make me sincere. I kissed the crop again, this time with more feeling. "I love this crop. I love every time it hurts me for you, Mistress."

"Much better," she said with satisfaction in her voice. She ran the crop teasingly over my shoulders and my ass, making me squirm as it touched my sensitive skin.

She then started striking my ass. My skin there was already so red, raw, and sore that each strike caused it to burn even more, and I cried out and clenched my fists with each blow. Again, it quickly became overwhelming.

"Yellow!"

As I recovered, she stepped up next to me to run her fingers over the sensitive skin on my shoulders and back. "I love seeing you this red." Then she reached in front of me to gently tug on the chain between my nipple clamps, making me gasp.

After a minute or two, I was finally ready to resume.

She gave me another set of strikes with the crop. Now she was striking not just my ass but also along the sides of my legs. The pain was intense, and I wasn't sure how much more I could take.

"Yellow!"

She switched back to the strap, hitting my ass and the sides of my legs again.

"Yellow!"

Then she picked up the flogger. She stepped over to my right and pushed the flogger next to my face. "Say hello to your old friend."

I smiled fondly at this flogger, which had already brought us so much shared pleasure. I leaned over to kiss it. "Hello, old friend."

"Do you think you need to be warmed up?" Mistress asked sweetly.

I laughed. "I think we're already far beyond warm-ups, Mistress."

She laughed as well. "Oh really? Okay, well then I guess we'll get right to it."

She stepped back behind me, and a moment later I felt the sting of an overhand strike hitting my right shoulder. She repeated the strike several times, continuing to target the same shoulder. With each blow, I cried out in pain and clenched my muscles, my skin burning.

There were a few strikes where Mistress accidentally hit too close to the center of my back, and I had to tell her to adjust, which she did. But then she went right back to striking me.

For all its severity, the flogger did somehow seem just slightly easier to take than any of the other implements had been. I'm not sure if it was because I was more used to it from our previous scenes, or maybe just because the falls spread the blow out a bit, or maybe because there was more of a pause between strikes. But regardless of the cause, it felt to me like I was able to last just a little longer before having to use my safeword.

To compensate for that, though, Mistress was giving me some of her most powerful blows with the flogger. Each time the falls connected with my skin, I heard a huge slap, and the burning pain erupted a moment later.

Finally, my shoulder could take no more, and I screamed "Yellow!"

Mistress paused, and I stomped my feet and breathed heavily as I got on top of the pain. When I was finally ready, I told Mistress I was green again.

This time, she targeted my left shoulder with the flogger. But after a few strikes, she stopped.

"I don't have enough space to hit that shoulder. Move over here," she said, pointing to the edge of the alcove to my right.

I stepped over to the corner and turned myself 45 degrees to give Mistress the most space. This was the same place she had me at the end of our last scene. "Here, Mistress?"

"Perfect," she said.

At this point, our son started making noise, so my wife left me for a moment to get him settled back into bed. That was good, because it gave me a chance to reset a little bit, to get my breathing under control. It felt like I hadn't had time to do that in forever - everything had been happening so quickly!

My wife came back. "Are you ready?"

"Yes, Mistress."

She raised the flogger and gave me a solid overhand strike on my left shoulder. I cried out in pain - the chance to reset my breathing had clearly not done enough, because I was suddenly right back where I had been before, struggling to deal with the pain.

She struck my left shoulder over and over again, and the pain was intense. I did everything I could think of to deal with it. I cried out, I tensed up, I clenched my fists against the wall; it felt like all I could do to keep breathing.

Finally, I couldn't take any more, and I cried "Yellow!"

"Are you okay?"

I tried to answer, but I found myself sobbing. I took a deep breath and tried again, answering through my sobs. "Yes, Mistress, I'm okay. I'm just-"

I couldn't finish the sentence. Suddenly, I was sobbing much harder than I had up until that point. At first, I thought it was my reaction to the pain, but it somehow became something more. It was like I'd reached a threshold where I was just suddenly overwhelmed by the entire experience, by so deeply submitting myself for Mistress' pleasure.

Mistress reached out and gently turned me to face her. I looked into her eyes and sobbed, trying to talk through my tears. "I am so happy, Mistress. I am so glad that you used me."

She seemed confused. "Are these tears of happiness?"

"Yes, Mistress," I sobbed. "It did hurt, but I am so happy that I was able to serve you. I feel so complete, so fulfilled."

She pulled me to her to hug me close, but the chain to my nipple clamps got caught between us, and I cried out in pain.

She immediately let go of me. "What happened?"

"You tugged my nipple clamps, Mistress. It's okay, let's just be careful."

I started to lean in close to her again, wanting her hug, but she apparently didn't want to take the chance of doing that again.

"Tell you what, let's just get these out of the way."

I really didn't want to deal with the pain of removing them at that moment, but I was so overwhelmed with all the emotion I was still trying to process that I wasn't fast enough to stop her.

"Hold on around here if you need to," she said, indicating my right nipple, and then she removed the clamp. I cried out in pain, squeezing the flesh around my nipple to try to deal with it. Then she quickly removed the clamp from my other nipple as well.

I grabbed the flesh around that nipple as well, and I bent forward, holding both sides of my chest, howling in pain.

After a moment, the worst of the pain finally passed, and I stood up straight again. Mistress wrapped her arms around me, and I leaned my head on her shoulder, hugging her back. Through my sobs, I told her over and over again how much I loved submitting to her and how happy I was that she had used me so thoroughly for her pleasure.

When I had wound down just a bit, she said, "Okay, here's what we're going to do. I'm going to give you 10 more strikes, and then we're going to lay down together and snuggle. Okay?"

I didn't actually want any more strikes - I would rather Mistress have either not stopped to begin with, or just stopped there, but I didn't really like having the chance to calm down and then starting over again. But I was not going to say no to anything she told me at that moment.

"Yes, Mistress."

She gently turned me back to facing the corner, and I leaned forward against it again.

"Ready?"

"Yes, Mistress."

She gave me five more hard overhand strikes on my right shoulder, followed by five more on my left. I screamed out in pain with each strike, my skin on fire.

Then we were finally done.

She took me over to the bed and sat me down on the edge. She moved all of our toys off of the bed onto the floor, saying that we would put them away later. Then she lay down to my left and pulled me down next to her.

At first, I felt like I wanted to feel her surround me, protecting me, so I turned to my right and let her spoon up behind me. But I soon felt the need to see her face and talk to her, so I turned around the other way to face her.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes, Mistress!" I said through my tears. "I'm beyond okay. I am so happy that you used me like that. I am so glad you finally accepted the gift I've been offering you. It makes me so happy to serve you this way, to know that I can give you something so special, something that you can't get from just anyone."

She smiled at me. "I'm so glad."

"You were really getting into it, weren't you?" I asked her.

"Yes. I remember thinking to myself while I was doing all of that, 'I can't believe this man loves me this much that he'd let me do this to him!'"

I sobbed again when I heard that, my tears suddenly intensifying. "I cannot even begin to tell you how much it means to me to hear that, Mistress. It feels like I have finally demonstrated to you how much I love you and how devoted I am to you. It makes me so happy. I feel so complete, so fulfilled, like this is what I was meant to do. Thank you so much, Mistress!"

She smiled at me. "Thank you for letting me do that."

"I would do anything for you, Mistress."

"I know."

"Do you want me to pleasure you, Mistress?"

"Not right now. Let's just snuggle."

"Yes, Mistress."

We snuggled for a bit while I got my emotions under control. I felt so incredibly close to her. Between my raw emotions and the physical closeness, I began to feel aroused.

"Mistress," I said, looking into her eyes, "I just want you to know that I am straining against my cage right now, so turned on just from knowing how I've served you, from knowing how much you value me and how much my service turns you on."

She smiled back at me. "Oh good, then you can make love to me."

"I would love that, Mistress." I smiled at her. "We can try that thicker cock ring if you'd like."

"Sure, we can try that."

She made no move to unlock my cage, though, and I was content to lay in her arms and do as she asked.

We continued to snuggle, our hands roaming over each other. She ran her fingers over the inflamed skin on my shoulders and ass, making me moan and shudder, which she seemed to greatly enjoy. Then, at one point, I ran my fingers under her skirt and over her mons. It wasn't really a conscious attempt to try to arouse her; it was really more of a completely natural desire to feel and caress all of her, to bask in our intimacy.

"Are you trying to investigate how wet I am?" she asked with a smile.

"That wasn't actually what I was thinking, Mistress, but I wouldn't say no."

She spread her legs, and I reached between them to feel her pussy. She was indeed wet, and I loved the feel of her slippery flesh. I alternated between teasing her clit and sliding my finger in and out of her warm, wet hole.

I could see her enjoying my ministrations, and I was hit by an intense desire to pleasure her.

"Mistress, may I please pleasure you?"

She smiled. "Okay."

I kissed her and then moved down to kneel on the floor next to the bed. I leaned forward to lick her beautiful pussy. I had intended to give her the slow licks that I know she loves, starting from her opening and moving up to her clit. But after the first pass, she seemed to be really enjoying the attention on her clit, so I just kept my tongue there, lashing her clit over and over again with the flat of my tongue.

She must have already been incredibly aroused, because it didn't take long at all for her to be approaching an orgasm. I could hear her gasping and crying out, and I brought up my right hand and inserted my first two fingers inside of her, fucking in and out of her, rubbing againt her G-spot in sync with my tongue lashing her clit.

As usual, that triggered her orgasm, and I was rewarded by the sound of her crying out and the feel of her bucking her hips as each wave washed over her.

To my amazement, the orgasm went on and on - it wasn't necessarily the most intense orgasm I'd ever seen her have, but I couldn't remember the last time I'd seen her have one that lasted that long. I continued massaging her G-spot with my fingers and lathing her clit with my tongue, trying to maintain her peak for as long as possible.

Finally, her climax waned, and she came back down to earth. She closed her legs, and I pulled my fingers out from inside of her, but I continued slowly licking her clit until she pushed me away.

I put my head down on top of her thighs, occasionally kissing her thighs or her mons, just trying to let her know how devoted I was to her. But soon she pulled me back up to lay next to her.

I smiled at her. "Did you enjoy that, Mistress?"

"Of course. Thank you."

"It is my pleasure to serve you in any way I can, Mistress."

She looked right into my eyes, as if seeing me for the first time. "I am starting to understand how true that is."

I smiled and looked back at her intently. "Good. I'm so glad, Mistress."

We hugged and snuggled for a few moments.

"Okay, here's the plan," she said. "I need to clean up and get all this sweat off of me, so I'm going to shower. How about you join me?"

"Are we done for the night, Mistress?" I asked, slightly surprised.

"Yes, I think so. Is that okay?"

"If that's what you want, Mistress, of course it is. I was just surprised, since you had said you wanted me to make love to you."

"Yeah, but I think I'd rather save that for a time when you can actually cum with me, rather than having to pull out to avoid cumming."

I was disappointed but not really surprised. "I can understand that, Mistress." I guess I wasn't going to make love to her again until my month of denial was over on the 22nd.

"So, shall we shower?"

"Can we snuggle for a bit longer, Mistress?"

"Of course."

We snuggled up again, and she started running her hands over the sore skin on my shoulders. When she saw me gasp and shudder in response, she started raking her nails over my abused skin, making me cry out.

Her sadism also had a predictable side effect, which is that my cock was once again straining against its cage, struggling to get erect.

"Oh, Mistress, I am so horny right now. I really need to cum!"

She smiled cruelly at me. "No. You are not allowed to cum."

I closed my eyes for a moment and moaned, as she continued to scratch my shoulders with her nails.

"I know, Mistress. I'm just so horny," I whimpered.

"Let's see, what's today's date?" She checked her watch. "You have ten more days until you're allowed to cum."

"I know, Mistress." I looked at her. "I love you controlling my orgasms. I love giving them up for your pleasure. I really want you to know when it's hard for me, so that you get the pleasure of seeing my frustration."

She smiled at me. "I know."

"Mistress," I asked, "would you like to see me edge for you?"

"Yes, I would like to see that."

"Okay. Can you please unlock me?"

I got onto my knees and moved my cock closer to her neck, so that she could reach with the key. She unlocked me, and I took off the chastity cage and set it aside. I lay down next to her, turning my head to the left to look into her eyes as I reached down with my right hand to start stroking myself. I could feel my cock start to grow in my hand as I stroked it.

"I am stroking my cock for you, Mistress. I'm going to get myself really close to cumming, but I am not going to cum. I am going to give up my orgasm for you. I am going to give up my pleasure for yours."

She just smiled at me as I kept stroking.

I moaned in pleasure as I brought myself as close to my peak as I dared. At the last moment, I pulled my hand away from my cock and clenched down with my PC muscle, pushing away the orgasm that I so desperately wanted.

Mistress stroked my face, watching the anguish in my eyes as I gave up my orgasm for her.

When I had successfully pulled myself back from the brink of orgasm, I moved my hand back to my cock to edge for her again, since she hadn't told me to stop. For a second time, I brought myself as close to my orgasm as I dared and allowed her to watch the frustration in my eyes as I gave it up for her.

This time, Mistress stopped me. As we lay there snuggling, she reached down to tease my cock a bit, but she didn't bring me to another edge.

"Okay, time for us to shower."

"Yes, Mistress."

When we went into the bathroom, I looked at my back in the mirror. She actually left some small bruises on me for the first time! As it turned out, I was able to see them for the next few days. It was an incredible reminder of our first truly intense impact play scene.

We showered together. She washed my body, smiling when I groaned at the feeling of the abrasive loofa sponge running over my shoulders and ass.

"Does that hurt?" she asked innocently.

"Yes, it does, Mistress. My skin is still really sore."

She smiled. "Sorry, not-sorry."

I laughed, so happy to see her comfort at exercising her sadism.

I groaned even more when she washed my cock. "Oh god, Mistress, please. I am so incredibly horny. As it is, it's going to be really hard to get that back into its cage."

"Oh, poor baby, how ever will you manage?" she asked, her tone dripping with false compassion.

I just groaned in response, knowing how much she was enjoying my frustration.

"You'll just have to wait until the 22nd," she said.

Then a thought occurred to her. "You know, I just realized that I will probably be having my period on the 22nd. So I guess I need to figure out how to handle that. I can either make you wait until my period is over, or I can make you cum some other way."

"You can make me cum some other way, Mistress," I said, instinctively wanting to avoid waiting longer before I could cum. But a moment later, I realized that I didn't want her to be disappointed by that. "Of course, you don't necessarily need to let me have a full orgasm, Mistress. You said you'd make me cum, but not that I'd get to enjoy it. You could ruin my orgasm."

She seemed to like that idea. "You're right. I told you when you would cum, but I never told you how. I guess I get to decide that. I wonder how I should do it. I have so many options!"

I was looking forward to seeing what she decided to do.

We finished showering. She had me put my cage back on. Then we collapsed into bed together, falling asleep curled in each other's arms.

The next morning, we both woke up early at about the same time, and we spent about an hour snuggling before our son woke up. We knew we needed to get up, but neither of us wanted to let go of the other.

She convinced me to take that day off of work, so that we could spend it snuggling on the couch. It was a good day.

During the rest of that week, I spent some time reading a book called "Uniquely Rika," which I'd seen recommended by a number of people on one of the fetish groups I've been reading. The book was written by a female dominant who describes a practical framework for real-world female dominant relationships, and I thought it might give us some useful ideas to incorporate into our own relationship.

I wasn't honestly sure what I thought of the book at first. It described a 24x7 D/s relationship, which is not what my wife and I had, and it stressed the importance of focusing on the domme's pleasure, not the sub's. My initial reaction was that I liked the idea of focusing on my wife's pleasure, but I didn't like the idea of not focusing on mine. But the book did also point out some things that did resonate with me, such as the need to keep our relationship sustainable. I knew that always chasing the next exciting activity to explore would ultimately escalate until there was nothing new left to turn me on. And I knew that if my wife were in control, she would keep our rate of escalation more manageable than I would if I were driving.

The book also made me really think about whether any given activity we engaged in was done to turn me on vs. to turn her on. My wife and I had a few conversations about that. At first, she seemed upset that I kept asking her whether she was doing something for me or for her, as if I was constantly questioning her motives. But I explained that if she is always in charge, and she is most of the time going to do things for herself and sometimes do things for me too, then I can't just assume that everything she tells me to do is for her. And I explained that the difference does matter to me, because even if she tells me to do something that I don't inherently enjoy, I might very well still really like it if I'm doing it for her, but if it's something that she's doing for me and I'm not actually enjoying it, I'd like to know that so that I can communicate to her how I feel about it. I think this was another area that we were going to continue to need to work together on.

My wife did say that she would read the book as well, so that we could discuss it more when she finished.

The next week, she told me that I was going to edge myself for her each night, leading up to the end of my month of denial that Friday.

On Monday night, she took off my cage and had me edge myself for her three times. She seemed to enjoy watching me, but when I offered to pleasure her, she said that she wasn't really in the mood.

On Tuesday night, she didn't take off my cage, but she had me edge myself twice while still inside it.

On Wednesday night, she took off the cage again. I had been thinking about some of what I'd read in "Uniquely Rika" about men frequently stopping too early when edging themselves, and I realized that I'd probably been doing that without really thinking about it. I was determined to get myself much closer this time, to increase my frustration for Mistress' pleasure. Unfortunately, I think I cut it a little too close - by the time I stopped, I had to clamp down incredibly hard with my PC muscles, and I flailed around, desperately trying to pull myself back from the brink. I certainly didn't have a full orgasm, but when I did finally relax my PC muscle, I did squirt out a couple little globs of cum. Mistress punished me by spanking me hard with our new leather paddle with metal studs. Even when she was done, though, I was so disappointed in myself that I asked her for more. I felt like I'd let her down by allowing some cum to escape, but the additional paddling helped me feel a bit better about it. In hindsight, it was a very odd feeling, because true punishment (as opposed to the occasional funishment) has never been part of our relationship, and it's not something either of us really wanted. But somehow the extra pain was what I really needed that night to let go of my own feelings of having disappointed her.

Thursday night, she made me edge just once. When I was done, she said that she might wake me up at midnight to let me cum, since it was the 22nd. I suggested that she wait until morning, when we could really enjoy it, and she agreed.

Friday morning, before our son woke up, she unlocked my cage and had me jerk off. I asked if she was sure that's how she wanted to do it and suggested that she might like it better to tease me throughout the day before letting me cum. She said that she was going to tease me throughout the day but that she still wanted me to jerk off. I was disappointed, but I obeyed. It was a very hurried affair, because our son started to wake up before I had really built up my arousal, and I really didn't get to enjoy the orgasm very much. It was really a huge let-down after such a long period of denial.

I had the day off of work that day, and although Mistress had said she was going to tease me throughout the day, it didn't wind up working out that way. We were busy most of the day: she had a doctor's appointment, we dealt with getting a grocery delivery, we were taking care of our son, etc. And then when we had time in the evening, Mistress wasn't feeling well; her period was a little late, and she was starting to have bad PMS. So that quick jerk-off in the morning was the only relief she gave me after a whole month of denial.

On Sunday, my wife did finish reading "Uniquely Rika", and we discussed it. We had another conversation about the need to communicate about whether she was doing something for her or for me, but I knew that that was going to continue to be a challenging area for us. But we did agree that we both needed to try harder to let her be the one to drive. I needed to try harder to let go and just do what she wanted, and she needed to be more proactive about finding things that she wanted to explore.

For the next week, though, we didn't play. For the next couple of days, her PMS was particularly bad, and then her period finally arrived. I was really missing giving her pleasure more than I was wanting my own orgasm, but even though I knew she wouldn't want physical pleasure during her period, I hoped that she would at least be interested in taking pleasure from playing with me.

On Saturday, our bondage cross finally arrived! We had both been eagerly waiting for it for the last month or so, and I spent a couple of hours setting it up in our spare bedroom. I was really looking forward to being restrained on the cross while my wife took pleasure from my pain. But Saturday night, she just wanted to go to sleep.

By Sunday night, I was a little frustrated, and we had a long talk. I told her that I was frustrated that she hadn't made my orgasm anything special after a month of denial and then ignored me for the next week. I was trying really hard to let her drive, as we'd discussed, but I felt like nothing happened when I did that. We talked about the need for her to drive and for me to be able to trust that she would do that. I mentioned that I had done all the work to set up our new cross, and I thought she would have been excited to try it, but she had barely even looked at it. She acknowledged that she hadn't really been giving me enough attention for the last week or two and said that she'd try to make sure we played more regularly going forward.

On Monday night, as we headed up to bed, I brought her into the spare bedroom to show her how I'd set up the cross. I wasn't actually expecting to have a scene that night - not that I didn't want one, but I was trying very hard to stay in a mindset of letting her drive and not having any specific expectations of when we would play - but I did want to show her how I'd set it up for her, and I also wanted to make sure she knew how much effort I'd put into it.

We hadn't ordered new cuffs with the cross, so I had attached the nylon wrist and ankle cuffs that had come with our over-the-door cross. She told me to step up to the cross, and she cuffed my wrists and ankles to it. At first, I thought she was just experimenting with it, seeing how it worked. But then she pulled my shirt over my head so that it was resting against my chest and pulled down my pants so that they were at my mid-thigh.

"I'll be right back," she said, turning to leave the room.

"Oh, are we having a real scene?" I asked. "Can I fully take off my clothes?"

"Oh, you'd rather take them all the way off?"

"Yeah. Sorry. They're not really comfortable this way." I have some sensory issues, and sometimes the most seemingly benign things can be really distracting to me. "If we're going to have a real scene, I'd rather be naked for you."

"Okay." She released my hands one at a time to pull my shirt off, then did the same thing to my legs to remove my pants. "Better?"

"Yes, Mistress." Then I thought of one more thing. "And can you please bring me my collar?"

"God, you're so demanding," she said with fake annoyance. "You want your clothes off and your collar. Anything else?"

I smiled. "No, I think that should do it, Mistress."

"Okay, I can do that. I'll be right back." She turned to leave the room again. "Don't go anywhere."

I laughed and pulled against my restraints to demonstrate that I couldn't move. "I don't think I have a choice, Mistress."

She came back a minute later with some of our toys, which she laid out on the futon to my right.

She started with the crop, hitting my shoulders and my ass. She didn't warm me up much, starting out fairly hard and escalating from there.

I was crying out and squirming to get away from the crop.

When she was done with the crop, she picked up a feather tickler. She ran it over various parts of me, experimenting to see where I had the biggest reaction. I was surprised that it actually didn't have much of an effect on my sides, but it did make me shiver a bit on the back of my neck and my shoulders. But where it really made me squirm was when she ran it over the insides of my thighs!

Then she put down the feather and picked up another implement. I could hear her removing the rubber bands, so I knew she was picking up the spiked paddle. We had bought this just recently and hadn't tried it yet, and I was actually a little nervous about it. It was a wide leather paddle with little metal spikes sticking up from one side, and I was really worried about how badly they were going to hurt.

She started on my ass, initially using fairly light blows, but slowly getting more intense. I was definitely feeling the impact, but it actually wasn't nearly as bad as I thought it would be! It was a pleasant surprise.

Next, she moved to my shoulders, still using the spiked paddle. The impacts definitely stung, but they still weren't as bad as I expected them to be.

When she finished paddling my shoulders, she uncuffed me, turned me around to face away from the cross, and re-cuffed me.

She picked up the crop and smiled at me. I loved being able to look her in the eye as she played with me, even knowing what was coming.

She cropped my upper chest, starting on my nipples and then moving up toward my shoulders. The repeated strikes on my upper chest really hurt! The skin was burning even after she stopped.

As she cropped me, I asked her if she was enjoying herself. She told me that she was really enjoying it but was trying not to get herself too turned on because she was still having her period. I hated the fact that her period prevented her from getting the full pleasure from our play that she might have gotten otherwise, but I loved the fact that she was using me for her pleasure.

When she finally released me, I realized that my left arm was all tingly. It actually stayed tingly on and off for the next couple of days, so we knew that we'd have to find a more comfortable way to restrain my wrists for future play on the cross. But despite that, it had been a fantastic first experience with our new cross.

Wednesday night, as we were eating dinner, she said, "I'm going to give you a choice about tonight. The strap or the flogger?"

Apparently we were going to play again that night! I thought for a moment. "The strap. I hate it much worse than the flogger, but I know you enjoy it more, Mistress."

She smiled. "Okay. I'll also give you one more choice: nipple clamps or blindfold?"

"Nipple clamps, Mistress. Same reason: I know you enjoy using them on me."

After I put our son to bed, I stripped and put on my collar, and we went into the guest room. Mistress restrained me to the cross, my front facing the cross. This time, we used the leather wrist cuffs from the thigh sling, in the hopes that they'd help avoid making my arm tingly again.

She started out with her small blue suede flogger. She flogged my shoulders, warmed me up slowly, then did the same thing to my ass.

Between each set, she stepped up next to me to caress my back and tell me I was doing a great job. It was something that I had suggested that she do to help me deal with the pain, and I appreciated her effort. But as it happened, she had been starting out so lightly that it wasn't really hurting me much yet, so I didn't need the reassurance yet.

She slowly increased the strength of her blows with each set, but that particular flogger is small enough that even at the end, it wasn't hurting me that badly. Eventually, she tired of the small flogger and set it down.

Next, she opened up the new container of nip balm that we'd bought and put some on my nipples. I could smell the strong chocolate mint flavor, but I didn't really feel much of a sensation on my nipples. (I remarked to her later that I thought it might have been more effective in a sensation play scene, where all of the sensations were light enough to heighten my senses. But in an impact play scene, I was dealing mostly with much stronger sensory input, so my senses weren't turned up high enough to really even notice something that subtle.)

Mistress then picked up her crop. She again ramped up the strength of her blows slowly, again pausing between sets to tell me what a good job I was doing.

After a couple of sets with the crop, she was finally hitting me hard enough to make me cry out. She gave me a rolled up towel to bite down on to muffle my screams so that I could avoid waking up our son. (We decided later to order a ball gag to experiment with.)

When she tired of the crop, she picked up her leather strap. She once again started out striking me fairly lightly and increased the strength of her blows gradually with each subsequent set.

Before long, the blows were really hurting me, and I was bucking and squirming with each strike, tugging against my wrist cuffs.

Mistress stopped and unclipped my wrists. "I don't want you to risk cutting off your circulation. Wrap your arms around the cross in front of you and clasp your hands together."

"Yes, Mistress," I said, complying.

She resumed striking me. At this point, the blows were strong enough that I was crying out into the rolled up towel with every strike.

After that set, she again stepped up next to the cross and leaned around it to look me in the eye. "You're doing such a good job. It makes me so happy that you're taking this for me."

This time, her words really meant something to me, because I was in a fair amount of pain. "Thank you, Mistress."

"I'm going to give you one more set of 10 on each of your shoulders and on each side of your ass. These are going to be full-strength blows."

"Yes, Mistress."

She wasn't kidding! She struck me full-force with the strap, and I was howling in pain, biting down on that towel as hard as I could.

The blows on my ass were particularly hard. She was hitting me with her right hand, so the strikes were coming at me from my left to my right, and the end of the strap hit me particularly hard on the right side. When she struck my left cheek, that meant that I felt the worst pain near the center of my ass, but when she struck my right cheek, the strap wrapped around the side of my ass and hit the side of my leg, just under my hip, and I howled into the towel as I squirmed in pain.

When she finished, she came over to make sure I was okay. "Here, have some water."

I drank. The water helped a bit, but I was struggling to process the pain and trying to catch my breath.

"Let me give you a minute to catch your breath before switching to the next implement." I knew from what she had brought into the guest room that the next implement was going to be the spiked paddle.

At this point, I started feeling really lightheaded and broke out into a cold sweat. Mistress could tell I wasn't doing well. "Are you okay?"

"I think so, Mistress. I'm just really lightheaded all of a sudden."

"Do you need a break?"

I hesitated. I knew she had more planned, and I hated the thought that I might not be up to serving her the way she wanted me to. But I couldn't deny that I wasn't up to continuing immediately. "Yeah, maybe. I just need to rest for a bit."

Mistress undid my ankle restraints and helped me down. I kneeled down on the floor in front of the futon. She sat down on it in front of me, and I lay my head in her lap.

We sat there for a bit while I recovered, her running her hands over me affectionately and reminding me to slow my breathing.

Every time she ran her fingers over my shoulders, I shivered at how sensitive my skin was. And whenever I shifted my weight slightly, I could feel the side of my left leg throbbing.

"How bad is my skin, Mistress?"

"Your ass isn't too bad, but you've got really big purple bruises on your shoulders." I could hear the smile in her voice.

"Really?" I was surprised. I had always wanted her to experience the satisfaction of leaving lasting marks on me, but we hadn't ever managed it before.

"Yes. Go look in the mirror."

I crawled over to the mirror and twisted myself around to either side to see my skin. I couldn't believe what I saw! The upper outside corner of each of my shoulders was covered with a huge bruise. It was an incredibly dark color, somewhere on the border of red and purple.

I stared in amazement. This was the first time Mistress had ever left such significant marks on me, and I was riveted by the sight of them. If I'd had more energy, I would have just sat there looking at them for hours.

I crawled back to Mistress and looked up at her. "Did you enjoy doing that to me, Mistress?"

"Yes, I did. Didn't you hear me telling you how much I was enjoying it?"

I was so out of focus that I couldn't figure out how to answer her. She had said several times that I was doing a good job, but I didn't remember her telling me that she was enjoying herself. I was trying to remember if she'd said that toward the end, but I had been so zoned out by that point that I might not have registered hearing her say that.

In my unfocused state, the only reply I could think of was to see for myself if she was enjoying it.

I looked into her eyes and said, "Mistress, please scratch my shoulders."

She reached back over my shoulders and scratched her fingernails over my bruises. It seemed like she was a bit tentative about it, not wanting to hurt me too badly.

"More, Mistress."

She gave me a crooked smile, a look that always seemed to me to combine arousal and cruelty. Then she compiled, digging her nails harder into my abused skin, repeatedly scratching right over my bruises in both directions.

I gasped and allowed the pain to show on my face, never looking away from her eyes.

When she was done, she tilted her head at me questioningly. "Why did you ask me to do that?"

I smiled at her. "Because I wanted you to have the pleasure of doing that for me, Mistress."

She smiled back at me. That moment felt so intense that I was filled with a renewed desire to serve her.

"Mistress, may I pleasure you?" It had been weeks since she had allowed me to give her an orgasm, and I was yearning to feel her pussy on my tongue. "No. Tonight's not about me. I want to focus on you."

I was disappointed, but I reminded myself that if I wanted her to be in charge, I had to accept her orders. I sighed and put my head back down in her lap.

After a few more minutes, she asked, "Are you feeling better now?"

"Yes, Mistress. I think I'm okay now."

"Good. Stand up."

I stood up in front of her, and she reached down and unlocked my cage. I took off the cage and set it aside, and she reached out with her hand to tease my cock a bit.

"Now get yourself hard for me."

"Yes, Mistress."

I reached down and started jerking off, standing there in front of her. I was certainly enjoying having my cock free and getting to experience an all-too-rare erection, but I wasn't sure how much I should really try to get myself turned on, since I didn't know if she was going to let me cum. I was still pretty pent up, because the small orgasm that I'd had after a month of chastity hadn't really been that satisfying, and by this point, it had been a week and a half even since that. But as much as I wanted to cum, I think I held myself back just a bit until I knew what she wanted.

"You have no idea how wet I am, watching you do that for me."

I smiled at her and kept stroking.

After a few minutes, she stood up and took my hand. "Come on."

She led me back into our room. She stripped, sat down on my side of the bed, and looked at me standing there in front of her. I looked back at her and reached down to resume stroking my cock for her.

She watched me for a moment. Then she lay back, spreading her legs, and motioned to me. "Come here."

It actually took me a moment to realize that she wanted me to fuck her! "Yes, Mistress!"

I crawled over her, lined myself up, and thrust inside of her. I must have gone a little too hard, because she tensed up and told me to slow down.

I lifted my head to look onto her eyes as I slowed my motions, making sure that she had time to get used to me. After a few more strokes, I was all the way inside of her, and I smiled down at her as I could see the pleasure in her eyes.

It had been so long for me that I wasn't sure how long I was going to last, so I paused to get myself under control. But instead of letting me do that, Mistress immediately amped up my arousal with her next order.

"I want you to cum inside of me, and then go down there and lick your cum out of me."

I moaned, my arousal shooting up at that idea. I was so turned on by that idea that I knew I had just lost any chance of lasting long enough to fuck her into an orgasm.

I stared into her eyes as I resumed thrusting, and in just a few more thrusts, I erupted inside of her!

I kept thrusting as I came, and my orgasm seemed to last forever. I must have kept cumming for the next 15 seconds, relishing in the feeling of long-sought release after such a long period of denial.

I was actually so turned on that even after I finished, I was still hard and still enjoying sliding in and out of her. I tried to keep going in the hope of getting her to cum, but she stopped me.

"Now get down there and clean up your mess."

I groaned, slightly disappointed to have to leave the warm, wet embrace of her pussy. But I had to obey. "Yes, Mistress."

I pulled myself out and slid down to my knees on the floor, so that I was at eye level with her freshly fucked pussy. I couldn't believe how much cum was leaking out of her! I guess it must have been a lot more than usual, just because of how long it had been since I last came.

Her outer lips were swollen and open. There was a thick glaze covering her inner lips, and there was another gob of creamy white cum on the outside of her right labia. But the thing that my eyes were immediately drawn to was the huge glob of thick, white cum dripping out of her hole and slowly flowing down toward her asshole.

As usual, although being told to eat my cum before I came really got me going, my feelings were always a little more mixed after I came. I was a little hesitant to eat that much cum, but I knew I had to do what my Mistress had ordered. And truthfully, even though I was hesitant about eating my cum, I was incredibly eager to pleasure my Mistress!

I leaned forward and licked up the big glob of cum that was leaking out of her pussy, then quickly continued up between her lips and up to her clit. The taste of my cum mixed with her pussy definitely gave it a different flavor than usual, not quite as tasty, but not terrible.

I quickly licked up the remaining cum and swallowed to get the taste out of my mouth. Then I dived back in to my real mission, which was making Mistress cum.

I was so excited to be pleasuring her again after so long that I immediately focused on trying to make her cum. I focused on her clit with my tongue, and I inserted two fingers inside of her to stimulate her G spot.

She seemed to cum fairly quickly, gasping and bucking her hips a bit, but it was not a very big orgasm, so I maintained my efforts. I gave her clit firm strokes with my tongue, in the same rhythm as the strokes of my fingers in and out of her warm, wet hole.

Over the next couple of minutes, she had what seemed like a couple more small orgasms, but she hadn't yet hit a big one, so I redoubled my efforts. I tried to take my cue from her responses; if she liked a particular motion, I tried to give her more of it.

Finally, she seemed to be close to a much bigger orgasm. I increased the pressure on her clit with my tongue, and as she started to repeatedly gasp in pleasure, I sped up the rhythm of my strokes on both her clit and her pussy to match the frequency of her cries.

After just another moment, she finally came, bucking her hips and crying out in pleasure. I relished seeing her experience so much pleasure! I continued stimulating her through her orgasm, slowing my strokes and switching to gentle licks on her clit as she came down from her high.

When she was done, she pushed me away and closed her legs. I crawled up on the bed to snuggle up with her as we recovered.

She told me later that she had not actually cum the first couple of times when I thought she had, but she had gotten really close both times. Those close calls had actually acted as a tease, really ramping up her arousal and making her orgasm really intense when it did finally happen.

When we'd recovered some energy, she took the opportunity to shave around my balls, which we'd been needing to do for a while, since the hair tends to catch on the chastity cage when it gets long. Then she told me to lock myself back up, and we collapsed into bed.

She asked me if I wanted to debrief, but I was too tired, so I suggested that we do that the next night. She agreed, and we fell asleep together.

The next night, we talked about the scene we'd had. I told her that I didn't need as much encouragement when the blows weren't that hard, but that when they were, I wanted not just the encouragement but also to see and hear how much she was enjoying herself. We also talked about how I have to find better ways to manage my breathing, because I hated the fact that my lightheadedness had prevented me from taking everything she wanted to do to me.

We also put together an order for some more new toys. Our bondage board had arrived that day, but we needed some more straps to go with it. And Mistress wanted to get some ball gags to see if that would help keep the noise level down. I was looking forward to trying it out!

[letmeoutofthebasementt]

can I ask your honest advices on something personal? so I get next to no communication from a now former friend, I had some hunch to ask a reader if said friend dislikes me and the answer came back as yes so I recently googled if ignoring someone or not reaching out to them via texts can count as them being jealous or having some dislike? yet they still send the bday present and xmas card or present as do I but I feel like its a cheap way when I know she practically lives online but I barely here from her so I dont really know what to do? we havent met in years and she makes next to no effort to seem interested in what im doing even if I try to take interest in herself as a friend it feels very one sided even when we used to meet up it would always be about her and never any follow up questions.

I know she has a disablity of some kind however the effort she puts into her other friends is vastly different. if she messages me its once in a blue moon and only to ask if I want to do a quiz, now I stopped checking my online profiles so much because like it seemed she was much more into what she got from others i dont want to feel desperate by constantly trying to fix whatever this "friendship" was supposed to be. do i ask her or do i wonder about it? if she dont tell me how am i gonna know what to do about it because many ppl been like her even when I was in school I was always dealing with ppl who pretended to care when they didnt. I didnt know any better then so it feels like ppl r just only using me if they need me for that certain point otherwise they fuck off and find "better friends" elsewhere like am i that replaceable or weird?

is this petty of me to want to ignore her back or is it mostly her behaviours towards me? the thing is I have dealt with many ppl like her and it doesnt put her in a good light it gives trying to be nice to my face but for all I know she could be chatting shit with someone about me? and shes quite popular online. hence why it feels like im always bottom of her priorities since always having to instigate a conversation felt like conversing with a brick aka it was going nowhere. I know her disability cant prevent her from being a decent person but do I just leave her? yet this whole present giving thing really isnt it for me. its giving oh I will just send her something to make it seem like she cares when she dont message or try to get in touch nor does she want to meet up. all her messages in recent years have been so short almost too blunt

does this sound like jealousy or regular dislike? sorry for rambling again but im so effing tired of these types of ppl who act like they care to have a friendship but then half ass their way out of it, it doesnt help that we moved since long ago so we cant be closer physically as friends. But I feel like my existance bothers her for some unknown reasons. as I told the tarot reader im nothing special heck im not the popular one she is if anything I would guess she was quite popular that she simply didnt need me? You would think if we was real friends she would make a bit more effort cause sometimes theres things I wanna tell her but am like wait she dont care so im not gonna bother cause she want certain replies and comments yaknow?

thanks so so much in advance if you read all of this!!! I love your blog and readings so felt comfortable to ask you for your thoughts hope you dont mind the rant there!

Honestly that’s an awful situation to be in. In my opinion, it’s not necessarily jealousy. She just doesn’t like you, point blank period.

Now, I can admit I’m the type who’s on my phone a lot but can sometimes miss people’s messages, and I’m not good with reaching out first. But that’s not a good behavior. And at least if she liked you she’d be interested when you’re talking, which is something I do. And she’d be there for you. And at least she could come around to responding eventually instead of flat out ignoring you and only contacting you when she needs you.

It seems like to me she’s keeping you around so she can have more people clinging to her and chasing her to fuel her ego. It’s more an ego thing than a genuine like. She does not like you. I’d bet she doesn’t even necessarily tolerate you. But she likes your attention.

She likes the experience of being worshipped and chased. Knowing she doesn’t have to try and you will just chase and follow her to the ends of the earth.

[misqnon]

u gotta try harder /j

I WASNT ON TUMBLR MUCH TIL LIKE.. A YEAR AGO... SO I HAD NO IDEA .... that is extremely funny. thank u

theyre in a 3 way qpr with luffy as the center

THAT ZORO IMAGE IS SO FUNYN AHFHSJD

"i like to imagine he speaks with the emojis like you typed them. (“how are you saying that out loud-”)" NAHDIAHE hes magic thats how

i have a big crush on ace too but TRACE HEATFIST.... something abt him.... idk he just hits the spot for me. i love big brother characters n characters that r good with kids.. ace fills that spot.. and then u add his silly smoothness in the 4kids dub and its like wow. u are Perfect.

STEAL THEM!! i have . a pinterest board of . meme image. silly meme image. (is pinterest something ppl still use... i only started using it a few years ago)

NO A CUP MAKES SO MUCH MORE SENSE... I think u were rightm.

THATS SO FUNNY... see i never thought dragons were real but i DID believe . that unicorns were real for quite a while (i never liked to admit it). honestly i didnt consume much dragon content but i did like to just. think abt them . i had this mobile game i liked playing that was just a choose ur own adventure type story . but ur a dragon. never played spyro (and didnt even know about it til i was like... 12) but it seems rly fun and i would love to play the remaster,, purple dragon ily. i cant believe ur the kind of kid who could beat games... i was so stupid as a kid i didnt even know how to play animal crossing city folk correctly .... YOU ALSO??? FLIGHT RISING???? i joined in uhh 2019? i think? i found out abt it in like 2016 but forgot and then tried to join in 2018 but it wasnt accepting new users.. and then yeah. 2019. so ive been on and off a lot but i LOVE flight rising. i love my dragons. even tho theyre mostly un-gened 1st generation dragons..

sanji is . arguably the most human of all the straw hats.. which is interesting bc he is also the only one who was supposed to be inhuman. ofc i think theyre all very human but sanji has the most moments where i can relate to him. the sanuso fic i was reading yesterday... he was so full of shame... and they wrote him hiding behind his hair.. and i felt so intensely SEEN by that. like oh my god he is ME i do all these things.. i find that my comfort characters are usually... ones who suffer a lot. i love suffering. in media.

SHREK SCREENSHOT..

"I WANT TO PUT THE SANJI FEEDING MICE AND THE CREW IS CONFUSED SCENE IN A FIC SO BAD BUT I HAVE WRITERS BLOCK ATM 😭" i will write it for u

"sanji vs. minnie mouse his hardest battle yet" oh my god........ ur mind...... wow...... genius...... crackship time (have u seen . oh wait ur not into jjk.. ok have u seen frollo x goofy... its insane...)

BEING MAD ABOUT SIMPING FOR SANJI IS SO REAL.. please dont be attractive please stop please... please . IVE SEEN THAT OUTFIT and every time i get ANGRY (not for real but y'know.) because he looks SO GOOD and i dont like to admit that.. i hate to admit that. UR RIGHT that outfit is extremely gay like wtf is going on with that tie???? or whatever it is? around his neck??? this is like gay men wearing scarves

"have u seen that post where its drawings of each of the strawhat “rescue teams” of arlong park, enies lobby, and whole cake?" I SAW THAT A FEW HOURS AGO AHDHSH

"law 1: edgy. flipping u off. deranged. a bit evil looking. kinda hot" i see u...

i love law so much he is so antagonizing and then . the contrast.. when he is stupid or cute. its wonderful.

"HE ALSO LOOKS SO SO PATHETIC 😭 SOPPING WET CAT OF A MAN" i LOVE how pathetic he looks. i like pathetic people so much.. like why are u like that.. making me pity u.. only in media tho never in real life 🙏🙏

ZORO LOOKS LIKE A DOG AHEJDHA WHAT IS THAT

USOPP?? USOPP?????? HES THE MEME IMAGE ...

CHOOPA MY GUY.. he looks so silly as a full deer i wish he did that more often

this is blue period but im running out of funny images i have saved ...

dw abt taking a bit to reply!! i am patient /gen

IM TRYING MY BEST 

sharing my veteran knowledge

3 WAY QPR IS PERFECT 

trace heatfist the magic man. skeazy magician and fuckboy

ace is VERY likeable idk a single person who doesnt like him. even my non one piece friend likes him but i think shes weak to his freckles

i trade memes like pokemon cards. i look forward to this symbiotic relationship

arent unicorns the national animal of scotland…(or ireland maybe…) THAT WOULD MAKE ME THINK THEYRE REAL

I COULD ONLY BEAT SOME GAMES a lot i didnt but usually bc i got out of the rhythm of playing them and left them unfinished. when i was younger i made my older brother play the hard parts for me a lot LMAO. ALSO DO YOU WANT MY FLIGHT RISING DRAGONS. IDK WHAT TO DO WITH THEM ALL MAN I DONT PLAY ANYMORE

i love that sanji is arguably the most emotional of the group (aside from franky or chopper, but for them its just played for laughs) and that overemotional/low self esteem part is exactly what makes him so relatable. i actually really appreciate that oda gave that trait to a male character. sanji cries a lot and is overemotional and kind of hysteric sometimes jdvbvfjdk so im glad they didnt make it like nami or robin who was like that stereotype. GOD I REALLY CONVERTED U TO SANJI TOWN DIDNT I. SORRY WE’RE ALL HERE BECAUSE WE HAVE LOW SELF ESTEEM AND PROJECT ONTO THE WEIRDO

*FROLLO X GOOFY????* 

I HATE ADMITTING THAT I THINK HE’S HOT BC HE DOESNT DESERVE IT. BUT I DO. I THINK SANJI IS HOT. I DO. UNFORTUNATELY. in that maroon wano suit…ODA WHO TOLD YOU TO DO THAT!!!!!!!

and yes law too…listen. i have a big heart, ready to love, [possessed by sanji]

the little scarf/ascot is the gayest part 

“"HE ALSO LOOKS SO SO PATHETIC 😭 SOPPING WET CAT OF A MAN" i LOVE how pathetic he looks. i like pathetic people so much.. like why are u like that.. making me pity u.. only in media tho never in real life 🙏🙏” exactly…PATHETIC FICTIONAL MEN GO HARD

I LOVE THE DOG ZORO SCREENSHOT HE LOOKS LIKE HES GONNA BITE SOMEBODY

AND USOPP KDSJNKJ I USE THAT ONE SO MUCH

i agree i like almost all of chopper’s other forms better than when hes a little baby 😭

IS THAT MAKIMA NSCKJAS???

also u are free to keep sending me e-letters but if you want to just message on discord that is also fine. as i said. message me whenever 🫡

lets see what we have for 2day...

[butterflyintochains]

Post Suzuka Surprises

Max has re-asserted himself as the top lion on the grid, quelling any concerns after the fiasco in Melbourne. To add to his victory, there's some great news for the grid's alpha couple once he returns home for the week between Japan and China.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It's stupid, really, it is stupid. Juliette is just fine, there's nothing wrong with her, just some dizziness and nausea, that's all. So, it's stupid that Stefanie sent her home from work when there's nothing wrong with her. Sure, she's feeling dizzy and sick sometimes, it's no big deal, people get ill all the time, especially around this time of year. She gets home from work, and dumps her bag on her armchair. Max should be in the air right now, fresh from his win in Japan, for a short while at home before China and Miami. He'll be home soon enough, Juliette toes her shoes off, and hangs her blazer up. She decides on a whim to check her period tracking app, she was due for one this week, but it never came. So, she grabs her bag again, and puts her shoes back on, and goes down to the pharmacy. She quickly grabs a test, just to be sure she's ticked all the boxes.

Once back home for real, she goes to the bathroom to take it. Equal parts scared and hopeful. Scared in case she's not and she'd be getting their hopes up of starting their family. Hopeful to be giving the only man she's ever loved a baby. And, she also thinks how funny it would be if those late nights between Jeddah and Melbourne actually yielded something. She's wanted this for so long, had so many dreams about this, and it's in touching distance. Her phone timer dings, and she takes her eyes off of the butterfly painting hanging on the bathroom wall. She picks the stick up in quivering fingers, and reads the tiny screen.

Pregnant. Four Weeks.

She's pregnant, four weeks along, she's actually having their baby. Her happy sobs must attract the cats and Luna. All three of their pets look concerned, especially her beloved cavachon. ''I'm okay, little ones, I'm just pregnant.'' That word seems so foreign to her, she's pregnant. She's going to be a maman, and Max is going to be a papa. He gets in tomorrow morning with the trophy, so, she's going to surprise him. She finds an empty bracelet box that's long enough in her desk drawer, and puts the test inside it. She grabs some ribbon from her collection, and ties it all up with a purple and orange bow. The box goes in her nightstand for tomorrow.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Juliette is up early the next morning, and is in the bathroom throwing up last night's dinner, looks like the baby doesn't like something she put in her stir fry, she might need to ask Zhou about the recipe he gave her. She washes up for the day, and gets dressed. She opts for some toast and jam with fresh fruit and tea for breakfast. A pit of nerves in her chest, she's certain Max will be a wonderful papa, but is he ready for that now? Is this a bad time? She places the box on the coffee table, and waits for her husband to get home. Max pulls into the garage, and comes in with the trophy. He's practically glowing with joy at winning the race, if a bit tired. ''Welcome home, amour.''

Max pulls her in for a searing kiss, those never get old, post victory kisses. ''Good to be back, even for just a little while, schatje.'' He holds up the new trophy. ''Like it?''

Juliette smiles, and nods. ''It's impressive, I still prefer the one from last year that lit up. I caught the highlights in bed on sunday morning.'' She says, taking Max's hand. ''That reminds me, come and sit, I have something for you.''

They sit on the couch together, Juliette hands Max the box. He furrows his brows, but opens it. His blue eyes light up, his jaw drops as he takes the test out of the box. ''Julia, is this real? Are you... are we? You're... you're pregnant?''

Juliette nods, drying her eyes, stupid hormones acting up already. ''Yes, Max, I'm pregnant, we're going to be the Verstappens in the winter.'' Max pulls her into his arms, and kisses her everywhere accessible. Twins would be nice, she muses, a little boy with blond hair and hazel eyes, and a little girl with brown hair and blue eyes. ''I love you, Juliette.'' Max says, placing a hand on her still flat belly. Hers joins his. ''I love you, Max.''

Max turns on 'concerned husband mode' as she calls it, and asks her. ''Is there anything you need me to do for you? Anything from the shops you want? How are you feeling?'' Juliette laughs, their hands still layered on her belly. ''Max, calm down first. I'm alright, all I need from you is yourself for a little bit.''

Max kisses her again, reclining them both on the couch. ''Well, there's plenty of that for you, schatje, and you alone.''

The day is spent in a nice sleepy fog, travel and emotion finally catching up with the young couple, eight months to go until there's four of them. Juliette is certain she's giving her husband twins.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A couple of days later, they've told Victoria, who is expecting her own baby still, their niece. Tom, Lio, and Luka are already so excited, as is Victoria herself. Sophie has also been told, and burst into tears at the news of more additions to the family. Today, they're going over to Juliette's maman for lunch with the Leclerc side of the family. They park up at her maman's house, Max asks. ''Should we tell my dad yet?''

Juliette sighs, this has been playing on her mind since Singapore last year. ''When he's willing to apologize for how he's treated you, otherwise, not yet.''

Max nods, and says. ''Fair enough.'' They head inside. Pascale embraces her only daughter and her son-in-law. Greeting them both in french. ''Come through, dears, we're eating outside today.'' She leads them through to the back garden. Lorenzo and Charlotte are setting the table. ''Julia, Max!'' Charlotte comes to hug them, kissing their cheeks. Max says, still holding Juliette's hand. ''Good to see you too, Charlotte.''

Lorenzo asks his little sister. ''Are you going to Shanghai Julia?'' Juliette sits down at the table, suddenly feeling dizzy. ''No, I'm meeting the grid in Miami, I don't think I could handle going to China right now.''

Lorenzo asks, furrowing his brows. ''Oh? Why not?'' Max hints, but doesn't say it yet. ''You'll find out when the rest are here.'' Charles and Alexandra arrive, Charles asking. ''We'll find what out?''

Juliette says, moving a plate of deli ham to the other end of the table, feeling her stomach acting up again. ''Wait until Arthur's here.'' Arthur and Carla arrive with some ice cream. Lunch gets going, it hits Juliette, she's the only woman in her family who will be giving her children a different surname. Pascale asks her daughter. ''So, papillon, what was the news you wanted to share with us?''

Juliette and Max share a look together, almost asking each other who should tell everyone, Max kisses her forehead and says. ''You tell them, I told my side.''

Juliette nods, taking a deep breath. ''Okay, so. Max and I are expecting, I'm pregnant.''

Alexandra is ecstatic for her sister-in-law. ''Really? That's so great, right, Charlie?''

Charles wells up, his little sister and one of his dearest friends are finally, the loves of each other's lives, are becoming parents. ''Felicitations, truly.''

Lorenzo claps Max on the shoulder, and says to him. ''You are going to be such great parents, I'm sure of it.'' Everyone rushes to congratulate them, such a vast contrast to just a few years ago, when they were having to hide their early relationship from her brothers. Now, they can be open and invite the uncles and aunts into this so much more easily.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few evenings later, to celebrate Max's three race wins so far, Juliette's business doubling profits from last year, and the pregnancy, it's date night. Max is decked out in an all black suit with a dark blue tie, his newly trimmed air styled to perfection, looking like the champion he is. Juliette dressed to the nines in a midnight blue evening gown, matching diamond bracelet, necklace, and earrings, her hair in an updo, and makeup perfect. Ready for dinner and some Swan Lake. They head out to the car, Juliette buckles up, and says. ''You know what's just occurred to me, Max?''

Max starts the car. ''What's that, schatje?'' They get driving to the restaurant, Juliette says. ''The lucky orange dress I made for Zandvoort in 2021 won't fit me this year, so I can't wear it.'' Max takes her hand, assuring her. ''You can always make a new one, love, and I'll still love that new one.''

They arrive at the restaurant, and are escorted to their table. The waiter says. ''Anything to drink, Mr and Mrs Verstappen?'' Max politely says. ''Just some pineapple juice, I'm driving and my wife can't drink right now.''

The waiter nods, understanding, and says. ''Very well, I'll be right back with your menus.'' They get their drinks, and order their meals. Steak, fries, and salad for Max. Fish, fries, and salad for Juliette. ''Thank you.'' Juliette says. They eat their dinner, Max says to his wife, who he is in awe of tonight. ''Wonder what us from Spain 2016 would be thinking right now, married and making a family.''

Juliette laughs, this isn't the first time he's brought this up, and it won't be the last. ''I think my sixteen year old self would think this was impossible. What about eighteen year old Max?'' Max smiles, sipping his drink. ''I don't think he'd say 'no' that's for sure.''

They order cheesecake for dessert with some tea. Max pays for dinner, and they get going to the ballet. ''I've never seen Swan Lake before.'' Max says as they take their seats.

Juliette says, holding his hand, trying to ignore the eyes on them both. ''I have, maman would take me to see the ballet while papa was away with the boys.''

The performance gets underway, the lights go off. The dancers are all so elegant, and playing their roles to perfection. The performance goes for over an hour, ending with Odette's emotional final dance after her battle against Odile. The crowd applauds the beautiful performance. As the couple go back to their car, Max says, eyes misty. ''Why did Odette have to die, though? She'd just gotten the prince!'' He opens Juliette's door for her.

Juliette laughs as she buckles up. ''I've wondered that myself, amour. It's just how Tchaikovsky wrote it, I suppose.''

Max joins her in the car, he hates death in any stories. ''It's not fair, though.''

Juliette carefully leans over to kiss his cheek. ''Wait until we see The Nutcracker, darling.'' Max gets them going home, and says to his wife. ''I don't think I'm ready for that if Swan Lake got me going.''

They get home, and get ready for bed. Juliette sneaks a glance at herself in the mirror now that she's in her nightdress. No real bump yet, but that's okay. She gets into bed with Max and their pets, and rests her head. ''Tonight was just lovely, schatje.'' Max presses a kiss to her lips. Juliette smiles, fatigue catching up to her. ''Yeah, I love having nights to ourselves, without the others tagging along.'' After some talking, they both fall asleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A couple of days before Max leaves for China, they go to the hospital for Juliette's first doctor's appointment. She's five weeks along now, and still not showing much of anything. She's apparently in fantastic shape, everything is progressing as it should be. The scan is great, her blood work comes back clean. In all, Juliette Verstappen is given a clean bill of health, and told to keep taking her vitamins. After her appointment, they go for a walk along the sea front, it's a warm day, but there's a decent breeze coming in from the sea. They sit on a bench, and go over their handouts, telling Julia what she can and can't do, and informing them of how things are going to progress over the next thirty five weeks. ''It's all very complex, isn't it?'' Max says.

Juliette laughs. ''Says Mr Formula 1.'' Max laughs too, she's got him there, she says. ''At least we know things now, I'm just wondering when my clothes will stop fitting.''

Max reads a booklet. ''Says here that it'll be the second trimester, so, like, summer, I think? You'll need to stop flying late second or early third.''

Juliette checks the race calendar on her phone. ''Merde, that means no Monza or Baku. Zandvoort will be my last race.'' Max wraps an arm around his wife's shoulders, and kisses her temple. ''I'll make it count for you, I promise.''

Juliette says, emotional over this, stupid hormones. ''But, I could miss you winning the championship, Max! I haven't missed that yet, and now I will.''

Max assures her, kissing her forehead. ''We can cross that bridge when we get there, love. Like we always have.'' Juliette rests her head on his shoulder, still not entirely happy with the situation. ''Okay, still sucks, though.''

They sit on the bench, watching the boats, listening to the city passing them by for a while.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Max's leaving day arrives, Juliette drives him down to the heliport so he can get to Nice for his flight. She's always wished Monaco had some kind of airport, but there's just not enough space. So, the heliport will have to suffice. They catch up with Charles. Juliette hugs both her brother and husband, her favourite people on earth. ''Both of you, race hard, do as well as you can, enjoy the weekend.'' She says to them both.

Charles kisses her cheek, and says. ''We will, promise, papillon. Take care of yourself while we're gone. Je t'aime.'' Juliette nods, and promises him. ''I will, je t'aime aussi, Charlie.''

Max pulls her close, and kisses her. ''Ik houd van je, liefje. And, I love our little family as well.'' He places a hand on her belly. Juliette says, smiling. ''Ik houd van je, lieverd. I'll see you in Miami.'' Her Dutch is a work in progress, but she has the best teacher possible.

They board their helicopter, Juliette watches them take off, and heads home. She'll see them in Miami. Juliette heads to work, ready to get back on with her work at Vita Luxuria. She gets in, and ditches her bag at her desk. Stefanie asks her. ''Are you feeling better, Julia?'' Juliette smiles, and says to her best friend. ''Yeah, yeah I am.''

Daphne asks, looking up from a project she is working on. ''What was the problem, Julia?''

Juliette happily announces to her friends. ''I'm pregnant.'' She's mobbed in hugs before they open up for business.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That night, she dreams of their family. They're at the sea front, having a picnic. Luna is chasing the swans, Jimmy and Sassy are curled up taking in the sun. Max is plating up lunch, Juliette is drawing in her sketchbook. In two little carseats, are their two perfect babies. Their son and daughter.

Juliette wakes up from the dream, it's still dark out, so she rolls over and falls back to sleep. Thirty five weeks, so little time, but it feels like eternity.