He Is Normally Scheduled One Ruined Orgasm A Week. If We Fail To Ruin It Properly, A Week Is Added To

[Caption from Barscubed - these aren't Mistress N's 'rules']

Mistress kindly granted me release last night and also allowed me to write about it this morning.

It happened quite late in the evening. She started work late due to Thursday's heavy night and therefore finished late too. She was also quite tired, so she took a nap after dinner. I tried not to think about release, but Mistress had already implied that it was likely to happen that night, so it was difficult to dismiss the idea all together.

She woke up quite refreshed and, dressed in just a tee shirt, she was soon instructing me to strip naked and put my collar on. She told me to fetch her dildo and strap it on her, then had me kneel down before her and "worship her cock". I licked and sucked the dildo as she rammed it into my mouth and rubbed it into my face.

When she was ready, Mistress had me kneel up on the bed, lubricated my anus and her "cock" and gave me an energetic pegging, starting slow but building to a literally eye-watering climax. I was left sore, red-faced and chastened, while Mistress glowed, with a wild and triumphant look in her eyes.

The circumstances of my release were different from most previous ones, in that Mistress opted to squat down on my face while I masturbated. I was not permitted to speak, so I was unable to ask for permission to release when I felt I was approaching completion; I just had to wait for her to grant it without any prompting.

This meant that there was a greater than usual risk of me coming without permission; to mitigate that risk, I had to "ease off" whenever I felt myself getting to the point of no return. Effectively, I was being forced to "edge". Given how much I wanted to ejaculate once I began to masturbate, that wasn't easy.

Mistress made me keep this up for what seemed like quite a long time, all the while taunting me, asking me why I had slowed down and encouraging me to go faster; at the same time, she kept pinching and scratching my chest and nipples and shifting her bottom around on my face, making it hard to breathe at times.

Eventually, permission was given and I rapidly brought myself off. To me, it felt like opening up a high-powered hose, but Mistress found it far less impressive.

"Is that all you've got?" she teased. "W*nker! I don't know what all the fuss was about..."

Nevertheless, a wave of relief passed over me as I lay there with my heartbeat slowly dancing back to normal. Mistress rose, padded across the room and fetched a tissue, which she threw down at me with an order to clean myself up; then went and sat on the end of the bed.

When I had finished and disposed of the tissue, she told me to get back down on my hands and knees before her. I obeyed, bowing my head as I did so, but she put her finger under my chin to make me look up at her. She looked deep into my eyes.

"What do you say?" she asked, softly but firmly.

"Thank you, Mistress" I said, almost in a whisper. Those moments can be overwhelming.

"Goddess," she corrected me. "I want to be a Goddess tonight".

"Thank you, Goddess," I said, making sure the last word was very clear. She smiled, a self-satisfied smile.

"Okay, you may kiss my feet."

I ducked down and pressed my lips firmly to her warm, slightly perspiring, slightly "beddy" feet. I would stop when she told me. Then it would all be over, for at least another month.

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I'm not sure if Mistress will want to add anything to this or not. I hope so, though she is a little busy today.

p

Nurses, Enemas, and Medical Fetish

Buy Shock Collar (Bracelet) for his Balls - FLR (female led relationship)  😈👰

Review #1 - from Alicia I still love this shock-collar for Husband training. I have truly seen a positive attitude change in him. We all have times our significant other irritates us, but most Women don’t know how to stop it. Example, I was reading my book, and my Husband kept pestering me. I just looked up and turned on the Zapper. Then I told him to vacuum the upstairs, and not interrupt me until I summoned him. 

Once I finished reading I gave him an extra good zap to summon him to get me a glass of white wine. Now if you had known my man years ago, you would not believe how responsive he is to my needs and desires.

Review #2 - from Christine After purchasing this we made a rule that my husband would put the zapper around his scrotum just above his balls any time I ask him. It’s also is great on date night. Now when I need the pool scrubbed, I just ask him to put on the zapper. Once it is on, he works hard without any complaints. Then I might get him too clean the stairs. Once he is finished I get him to give me a shoulder and neck massage. I make him wear it 24x7. Even when he is in office. Believe it or not, its an amazing training device for husbands.

Review #3 - from Jenny We recently started using a remote shock puppy collar on my husband’s balls to ensure obedience. This particular model has six shock levels plus a vibrating signal. It’s amazing how effective it has been. 

Since we started our FLR, we had a rule that if I called him or gave him an order he must drop whatever he is doing and come to me or do what I told him to do. This used to work according to his mood, and while I of course had the right to punish him, I didn’t do it regularly because I’m lazy. Now I call him using the vibrating feature and he knows that if he doesn’t come immediately (or if he doesn’t obey an order immediately) his nuts will get zapped. He is so responsive and so fast now! When we go out I always make him wear the fully recharged zapper and he behaves like a gentleman, since he knows that I keep the remote with me at all times and that I’m not afraid to use (frankly, I like to use it – hahaha!). 

My sweet husband never argues with me anymore and shows proper respect at all times. Even when the zapper is not on, he knows that he will be wearing it before he goes to bed every night. That is a ritual we have since we got the device. Every night he asks me if I am happy with his behavior for the day. If I’m not, I give him shocks of varying intensity and duration depending on the infractions. I love to see the look on his face when he asks the question, especially on those days when he knows he’s been a bad boy, which are now becoming rare. I recommend this gadget to all dominant wives. You will never let any misbehavior go unpunished and he will become a new man, one you will like a lot!

Review #4 - from Me I instructed My husband to buy one of these Remote Shock Puppy for Me several months ago. Once this shock trainer arrived, I looked it over and ordered him to attach it to a locking bondage belt that I secured around his balls. I immediately started experimenting with the shock settings on this wicked little device. It has 16 levels of shock intensity. I discovered that level 3 or 4 are good to get his immediate attention or to summon him to My presence. I use levels 5 to 7 as for punishment for minor infractions, while higher levels are reserved for more severe discipline. Usually anything above level 8 is sufficient to drop him to his knees. I don’t think I have inflicted anything higher than level 11 on him which makes him beg for mercy! I keep My slave in his “shock trainer belt” nearly all the time (except when bathing and so forth). 

I really enjoy that I am able to discipline (shock) him when we are out in public like at a restaurant, shopping mall, and so forth. I usually shock him whenever I see is his attention wander from me, or he dares to glace a little too long at another woman. 

Queens & Ladies, take My advice and buy one of these shock trainers for your slave/husband. Using this shock trainer combined with the male chastity device of your choice will keep him under your complete control and help make living with him a real pleasure for you 24x7..!

All Part of the Plan, Ch. 1

This caption is part of a series I'm lucky enough to write with the great @boysrbabies! Hope everyone enjoys it as much as me!

“Babe, look at me! You know I love you, you don’t have to be so embarrassed! It’s just a diaper!”

Easy for you to say.

I never thought I’d be in this situation. But here I am, being comforted by my girlfriend after putting me in my first diaper since I was potty trained.

It’s so humiliating.

This diaper, this horrible conversation is the culmination of the most embarrassing two weeks of my life. I have no idea how it got to this point. It all happened so fast.

All I know is ever since she woke me up that first morning in a puddle, my bladder control has cratered. I haven’t woken up to a dry bed since. Stripping the sheets and making the walk of shame to the laundry room became horribly routine.

As humiliating as it is waking up to a wet bed—and boy, is it humiliating—it was just the beginning. My life got much, much worse.

Turns out, peeing yourself in the middle of a bar, surrounded by your friends, makes bedwetting seem fun. I didn’t even know I had to go. One minute, I was sitting down, drinking a beer. The next, I’m looking around, wondering who spilled their beer.

At least, I thought someone spilled until I realized my lap wasn’t cold—it was warm. If I know anything about beer, it’s that beer is not warm. And then it hit me: I, ostensibly an adult, just peed my pants in public.

My girlfriend seemed to put the pieces together before I did. Maybe she saw the look of terror on my face. I don’t know. Luckily for me, she sprang into action, “accidentally” spilling her drink on me to give me an excuse for my now-soaked jeans before telling our friends that she was a little too tipsy, giving us a reason to leave.

I expected her to be angry or embarrassed on the drive home, but she wasn’t. Quite the opposite, really. To be honest, she almost seemed…excited? I don’t know. My wet pants were all I could think about.

She spent the entire drive assuaging my crushed ego, convincing me what had happened was not embarrassing, that it was just one accident, and that it was probably just stress. She promised she’d do whatever it took to help.

I have no idea what I’d have done without her there for me. She never complained about waking up to a wet bed, assuring me that it wasn't a big deal and that she would never judge me for any medical problem like bedwetting or daytime accidents. She will love me no matter what.

She was her cheerful, loving self even after my accident in her brand-new car. She calmly assured me that she understood it was an accident. She would take care of it; nothing to worry about. I shouldn’t worry or feel bad, she loved me all the same. Though she did make me sit in the back seat after.

But even with her promises that she'd love me no matter how many more accidents I had, I couldn’t shake the terror growing inside me. How could she love me when I’m suddenly peeing myself like an unpotty-trained toddler? She deserves to be with a man, not a baby.

I knew exactly what would happen if I didn’t get my accidents under control. And it terrified me.

She never said the word “diapers,” but I knew what she meant when she said we would have to find a “solution” if my accidents continued. As loving and supportive as she was, there was a definite tone of finality when she said it. She was serious. I’d be in diapers very soon unless something drastically changed—and fast.

Which brings me to the diaper she just finished taping on me.

As always, she knew what happened before I did. One second, I was watching the movie, the next I heard: “Babe, you had another accident, didn’t you?”

My cheeks burned so red you could have lit a cigarette off it.

She sighed, as if summoning her strength. “I know you’ve been trying so hard to stop having accidents, but it doesn't look like they’re stopping anytime soon. It’s time you start wearing diapers, babe.”

I sat there, too stunned to speak, as she went into our bedroom without another word. She returned a minute later with the most gut-wrenching armful of supplies I’ve ever seen.

I could have sworn there was a hint of a smile on her face, though admittedly, I was distracted by the thick, poofy diaper in her hand. But it wasn’t just a diaper. She also had a changing pad, wipes, powder, and rash cream.

She was prepared for this…

Thoughts raced in my mind. Why did she have everything ready? When did she even get everything?

"Down on the changing pad," she demanded, the authority in her voice unmistakable. She wasn’t asking.

My pants were off in a flash, wordlessly and unceremoniously stripped away.

She went to work putting me in a diaper with ruthless, expert efficiency. Everything she did was purposeful—this was not her first time putting a diaper on someone.

The implication terrified me.

“All done, baby!” she said proudly, “is your diaper comfortable?”

I’ve never been less comfortable in my life. And did she just call me baby?

She playfully tapped my diaper, forcing my attention to it. The diaper was much thicker than I ever expected, every crinkle booming in my mind as I nervously fidgeted.

How did it come to this?

There was no dignity in this position. Laying on my back, diaper fully exposed, with my girlfriend towering over me, kneeling between my legs and admiring her handiwork.

“Awww, don’t look so grumpy! You’re going to love your diapies, you'll see!”

Something about the way she said diaper—and the triumph in her voice—filled me with dread.

Did she want this?

Boy, you're in chastity. Your enjoyment is NOT my concern. Your surrender is.

Love the range of reactions here 😊