Double punishment

It’s late. I should be asleep.

Last night, I forgot to make Belle’s coffee so this morning she had to wait for it. I got up as soon as she told me, but still, she didn’t get her first cup until after her shower. Tonight, she told me I would be punished.

After the kids were down and out, she told me to take my clothes off like she does every night. I got up, stripped, and started to get back in when she stopped me. I hadn’t asked permission. Then, she showed me the tube of Icy Hot. I immediately started to whimper and whine. I told her how sorry I was for forgetting the coffee, that tomorrow’s was already set up, that I wouldn’t forget again. Didn’t matter. She already had a dollop of white paste on her fingertips.

I knelt on the bed and she reached under me. I felt her smear the greasy, cold liniment across my scrotum, stretched firm by the stainless steel chastity device. She laid back and opened her arms, inviting me in. I placed my head against her chest, still waiting for the first blast of heat. Once it hit, setting my balls on fire, I started to pull away but she held me close to her, face smothered in her breasts. I moaned, panted, and writhed the best I could, but she held me tight. One wave of fire would subside to be replaced by another, each time she held me firm and unable to move. Eventually, the waves of pain started to recede more quickly and crest a little lower each time, though the effects of the Icy Hot continued to linger.

She let me go, and I got back on my knees, legs spread, face to the mattress, letting my tender balls hang in the cool air. I cradled them and probed them with my fingers. Poor little things. It wasn’t their fault I forgot to make the coffee.

“Where’s Pink?” she asked.

“In my drawer,” I said, “but I’m afraid to use it on you. I have Icy Hot on my hands…”

“Get her out.”

I reached into my drawer and handled the little pink vibe as lightly as possible. “Give it to me,” she said, holding out her right hand. She had used her left to apply the Icy Hot.

The vibe disappeared with her hand under the covers and I heard the low thrum of the vibe’s motor kick in. I moaned some more. It had been days since Belle allowed me to pleasure her and I felt the need badly, especially after my punishment. I put my mouth on her shirt over her nipple.

“Did you ask?” she said sharply.

I retreated, still on my knees, sore sack suspended, and pressed my ear against her so I could hear the vibe better. The sound of its thrumming rose and fell as it slid it in an out of her. I could see it in my mind, wet with her juices, parting her full, pink labia, pressing against her clit. I wanted to feel it myself so badly, to press my mouth against her, to lick her soft folds.

“Please, can I do something?” I asked. She said nothing. Her head was back, jaw sharply defined in the candlelight, lips parted. She ignored me.

The rise and fall of the vibe’s motor increased its rhythm and Belle’s hips started to gyrate next to me. I closed my eyes and imagined how it would all feel under my hand, vibrations running up my wet fingers, her nipples hard in my mouth. The stainless tube was now filled and the tightness of the meat caused the Icy Hot to flare back to life. My crotch was on fire as she came quietly.

After a few moments of basking, she wordlessly handed me the warm vibrator. I replaced it in my drawer and she turned over, already half asleep.

And that’s why I’m here now, writing it all down for you.

Bad sub

So I had a hard day yesterday. Not “Belle and I had a hard day”, I had a hard day.

I came home from work after picking up the boy moments after Belle and the girl had gotten there. Belle had said to me earlier, “I’m going to have you take <our daughter> to swimming class tonight.” Not would you take her, I’m going to have you take her. I got a nice little subbie vibe from that. So anyway, while thinking about that, I also wanted to get the dinner started and under control before Belle got home. She’s had to deal with that for the days I was gone and, as I said yesterday, I’m eager to get back into the swing of things. However, I didn’t beat her home so she was already thinking about what to make when I got there.

No no no, I said, I’ve got it. I went to the freezer and picked out something for all of us, but couldn’t find anything I thought Belle would like and what I wanted to make the kids had expired (like, 18 months ago). By the time I got back upstairs, it became clear that my plan was going to hell so I ended up making what Belle had planned. Thing is, I had never really made that before (for everyone) and couldn’t get all the elements done simultaneously so everyone started eating at a different time. Plus, I made a huge mess and didn’t have time to clean it all up before I took the girl swimming and Belle had to finish for me. In retrospect, not that big a deal, but I was left discombobulated. I had a plan and the plan failed. Bad sub.

I got home and found Belle in bed with the apparent idea that I was putting the kids to bed. I totally would have eaten that up, but my mom called and needed tech support. That, all by itself, is enough to put me in a bad mood for 72 hours. So Belle had to put the kids down. Bad sub (though not my fault, I still felt bad about it).

In bed, I innocently was talking to Belle and said something to which she took offense (hey, twice in one day with the inadvertently pissing off people with careless comments!). I felt bed because she took it in a way I had not intended it to be heard. Also, I had wanted to watch Mad Men from Sunday and massage Belle’s feet at the same time, but all she wanted was the feet massaged and an early bed time. Again, with the plans being foiled. That one, though, I should have let roll off my back since I don’t plan what happens in the bed, sexual or otherwise. It’s her bed and her room. Bad sub.

All through the foot massage, I was talking about something I wanted to talk about when she had some heavy career stuff she wanted to work through. I didn’t know that until later and she didn’t say anything at the time, but I felt like a selfish bore afterward. Bad sub.

Finally, I had forgotten to make her coffee. The one thing I do every day. Bad sub.

So, after she told me to be naked and all the lights were off, etc., I said I felt bad and apologized for my sub-par sub performance. I told her I really wanted to do better, to be of greater service to her. When combined with the unauthorized emission last time we were in bed together, I told her I felt I had a great deal of room for improvement. Basically, I’ve been sucking wind lately. I turned to the topic of punishment.

Now, before I go any further, I want to say I’m interested in actual punishment, not faux scene-type “punishment”. This is not a way for the masochist in me to get a little more action. I want her to make me feel the consequences of failure, even if she doesn’t think it’s that I’ve failed all that much. Which, come to think of it, is part of the issue. She doesn’t think my “failure” is that big a deal. I’m being much harder on me than she is. She agrees, in principle, that I should feel consequences but doesn’t have a lot of passion for it.

We discussed her options regarding the form in which the punishment could take. Obviously, there’s the homemade cane I picked up a while back from the local Home Despot. But she was thinking about psychological punishment.

“What if I made you go sleep in the basement on the laundry room floor?” I looked up at her with cautious eyes. “I can see that would be an effective punishment,” she said.

In a quite voice, I replied, “Please don’t make me sleep in the basement on the laundry room floor. I want to sleep in your bed next to you.” That floor is hard and cold and miles away from her. I was terrified by the vision of me curled up, naked, on the hard linoleum mostly because I could tell she was considering it and that it was a very real possibility. I also felt a quivering form of excitement from the fact that we were at this point. Whodathunk even three months ago that she’d be considering something like this? We’ve come very far.

Anyway, that’s about how it ended. I told her this morning that I felt she had the right to punish me in any way she felt necessary. I can’t say exactly why I want this except that it seems a logical progression of things. Call it a further evolution of my inner sub or something, but I like the idea that I’m being judged and, when deemed to have fallen short, will receive corrective action. I find the idea hot, though I don’t really want to find the actual act of punishment hot when it’s happening. Like I said above, this isn’t a sideways path to masochistic fun. If she chooses physical rather than mental, I want it to hurt in the bad way. If she decides to cane me or whatever, I’d like it to happen totally removed from sex and I’d like it to be unpleasant.

If she chooses mental, I guess I’ll be sleeping on a cold, hard floor.