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The online diary of an ethical pervert.

Monday, 11 August 2008


"So, when you knock on my bedroom door, I expect you to be naked, kneeling and offering me a gin and tonic."

It's Friday and a series of flirtatious text messages plus a trip to the fetish shop neatly located around the corner from work for handy lunch break perusing have given me ideas. The Photographer and I have reasonably similar attitudes to D/s so I can usually lay odds-on that if I'd like it, he'd like it. The same does not hold true for cock rings, lacking the equipment I couldn't really comment, but given that I'm going to be the top, I thought that some self-gratification might be in order and I do enjoy both the aesthetic and the control they offer. I bought a fairly simple set - two rings attached with a short leather strap.

I watch him crawl on all fours and make him sit between my legs. I lube up his cock a little and make him put them on himself. Partly this is so that I can watch, partly because I like the idea of getting him to constrain himself in such a way, and partly (admittedly) that I'm not precisely sure the best way of doing it, and I still have an element of nervousness around getting it right when I'm topping him. I'm getting more confident the more I do it, and also enjoying it more each time. This was no exception, there was a pleasing strain against the metal and some nice little moans when I tapped and flicked his bound cock.

I tied him up with rope and moved him onto his back so I could play with his very, very sensitive nipples, making a mental note to invest in longer lengths of rope and also perhaps a riding crop or similar. I crossed my legs over his chest, resting one of my heels under his balls and making the odd pressing motion. I sipped gin and tonic and listened to the noises he was making, and generally felt very pleased with myself. Later on, he was blindfolded and I let him lick my clit, then, after removing the rings, I fucked him. I played with myself whilst doing so, enjoying using his cock as a sex aid. I kept talking to him about what I was doing and why, which got a wonderful response and seemed to push him a little further under until he asked to orgasm and, after a suitable pause, I consented. Magnanimously.

An idle thought made me tie his ankle to the bed so I could keep him for the morning. A less idle thought decided that really I should also put the rings back on, and then cuff his hands to his collar, then fasten his ankles together. Satisfied, I kissed his forehead goodnight, rolled over and went to sleep, to find some lovely, needy noises when I woke the next morning.

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