Random Nuggets O’ Life

The zombie death plague has passed. We both still have some residual coughing and congestion, but it’s minor.

Last night, there was a party at the dungeon. G and I got there early to set up, and a few other friends arrived within an hour. Aside from setting up, we got there early with the intention of suspending me via duct tape to the wall. How many people can say they’ve been held up on a wall using only duct tape?

They wrapped my arms and legs individually with plastic wrap, then did the same to my body. Only my hands, feet, neck, head, and cock/balls remained unwrapped. Then I stood up on a bench with my back to the wall, and the taping commenced. It took three rolls of industrial-grade duct tape, and we were wondering whether it would hold once the bench was removed or if I’d peel off the wall and fall on my face. I weigh 150-155, so I’m not a huge guy.

They got some pictures, and G put a piece of tape over my mouth. After that, they removed the bench while a couple others stood there to catch me in case I did come unstuck.

The tape held! More pictures. It was slightly uncomfortable at first, but once things got settled a little more, it was actually fairly comfortable. I stayed up on the wall for about ten minutes before my hands started to go a bit numb and cold, so they put the bench back beneath me and took me down. It was a lot of fun. My friends are awesome.

Later in the night, G came to me with a rope which had a noose on one end and said, “Let’s go hang you.”
I said, “Okay.” I love these super-detailed scene negotiations we have.

We’ve done various forms of breath play before, and I knew she wasn’t talking about doing the real thing with full body weight. She threw the noose up over a tall suspension rack and then stood on the opposite side of the noose so the noose was in between us. She had a deliciously evil smile as I looked through the noose and she told me to step through it. We took it slow, and she was constantly checking my eyes and having me squeeze her hand to make sure I was still very with it. Then she told me to kneel, and we did it some more. She’d pull on the rope, but the frame that the rope was draped over was finished wood with normal square edges, so the rope didn’t slide real well. Still, it did slide enough for her to put some pressure on me. She also told me to lean into it or duck down some to add pressure at my own pace. (At one point she had me lean forward some, which put more pressure on through a slightly different angle. That pressed the carotids and made me slightly lightheaded, which I don’t really care for.) Being on my knees and looking up at her pulling the other end of this rope was just delicious.

The rope was soft, so it didn’t leave any marks on my neck. Thankfully, since I have one of those newfangled “job” things. We didn’t go very far with this since it was our first time doing it. I imagine it would be even hotter with my hands bound or cuffed behind me. (Everything is tastier with bondage.) Definitely an interesting experience that I’d like to repeat at some point.

“What did you do this weekend?”
“I got duct-taped to a wall and then hung. What did you do?”

Of Course

Almost immediately after locking me up for what is going to be an extremely long time, G and I both got sick. She got it worse than I did. So we’ve both been out of it for the past week. What a way to start things off. Germs are bastards.

On the plus side, we have had a few moments where we’ve felt better and spent a little time together at bdsm events. We’re both feeling a renewed sense of d/s; I’m not sure where that will take us, but we’re both happy about that.

Happily, the cock cage isn’t getting in the way for some new exercises I’ve been incorporating into my routine. Not new really, but new to me. I always shied away from doing squats and deadlifts; I’m in the medical field, and I’ve dealt with quite a few people who had lumbar injuries from these two exercises. It’s easy to get hurt doing these if you don’t have good form. So I’m starting slow, just using lower weight for now, and trying to build some muscle memory.


Last night, G and I got together to play. We tried a different form of breath play. Earlier in the week, she picked up a large plastic storage bin/box. Kinky, right? She had me fill it with water, drag it over to where we were going to play, and kneel in front of it. At that point, she cuffed my hands behind my back, pulled my keys from my pants, and put my keys in my hand so I could jingle them as a safeword. She grabbed a collar from my toy case and put it on me. Grabbing the collar, she forced my head underwater and held it there. I was okay at first as I held my breath. But as I started running out of air, I tried to get up, but she kept holding me under. My hands bound, I couldn’t stop her. Finally she let me up and I sharply took in the lovely, lovely air. She did this about five more times altogether. We do other forms of breath play, and we’d talked about trying this. It went pretty well. She didn’t push me all that hard, as it was our first time doing this specific type of breath play.

But to me, that wasn’t the centerpiece of the night. Prior to doing the breath play, she told me something. She informed me that I’ll be giving her an additional birthday present. That present is…


…every single one of my orgasms from now until my birthday.

My birthday is at the end of August.

That’s 5-1/2 months away. 170 days.

The longest she’s ever kept me locked up so far is 26 days. So we’re going from 26 days to almost six months. That’s definitely going to push me. She also said she’ll be “turning up the heat” and that she doesn’t want it to be easy. Frankly, I’m a bit scared. I want to drop to my knees and beg her not to do this. (But I have no clue how to beg. I’ve asked around and posted in multiple places, and no one else seems to know either, even though lots of people claim to be into it.) And it hasn’t even been 24 hours yet. At the same time, I know I have no choice in the matter. Because of that, I feel a heightened sense of d/s.

She’s never let me know ahead of time how long I’ll be locked up, and that always worked exceptionally well. Not knowing when my next orgasm will be lends excitement and uncertainty. This is different though since I know now. We’ll have to see if/how that affects things.

Six months. Just reading that is intimidating. That’s a long time. A really long time.

Hardcore Legend

The other night, I went out with a bunch of friends to celebrate some birthdays. I’ve been in a relationship best described as secondary poly since the beginning of the year. The woman I’m with (we’ll call her G) and her girlfriend were both having birthdays a week apart, so they had a joint party.

We had dinner with a smaller group, then walked up the street to another place for drinks and dancing. The former I don’t do, and the latter I don’t do well. There were lots of other friends waiting for us there.

Although I haven’t drank in over five years, G wanted to do shots with me to celebrate. She found an innovative way to do that.

Not long after we arrived, she came back from the bathroom and pulled a plastic sport water bottle from her purse. It was about 1/3 full of her piss. She just smiled this deliciously evil smile. Then she poured me a shot.

We toasted to her birthday, her with alcohol and me with her piss. Maybe five minutes later, she sat down near me and started pouring more shots for me, one after another. I probably did 6-8 in a row before the bottle was empty. She kept flashing this sadistic smile (which drives me up a wall!) as I drank her piss in a crowded club. None of the ‘nillafolk had any idea.

The group of friends we were with (probably about 20 people total) were all bdsmers. One guy, who is fairly new to the scene, knows I don’t drink, and he asked what I was drinking. I told him it was “secondhand recycled water”. His eyes got big, and I could see the wheels turning in his head. He was having one of those “you can do that???” moments. He then proceeded to tell me that I’m a “hardcore legend”. And he said it at least a few more times that night. That cracked me up. He’s since expressed a bit of curiosity about piss play, so I’m giving him some info on it. He said the thing that impressed him most is that I didn’t flinch at all. I didn’t flinch mainly because G was well-hydrated. When she’s not as well-hydrated, her piss is yellower, which makes it more difficult for me, more intense of an experience. The piss is much more piss-like.

It was wild to be doing piss play in that environment, in front of so many unknowing people. She really seemed to enjoy making me do this. I’m glad that I was able to toast her birthday.

Happy birthday, G!