D A Y - E I G H T E E N !!!

SHE and mozart
i made it
i can't believe i did
i am crawling out of my pants
hyper excitement mixed with misery
my delight touching the peak of the mountain you pointed to

i was sent
over there
to get atop of suffering's hat
aching and panting
the air thin and weak
my heart pumps a heavy mantra
my balls ache for relief

how trite i am
reduced to puppy dog eyes
pathetic male energy
with my tin cup out for mercy

i await final commands
an end to a phase
pledged fully beyond the milestone
yet eager for this one's end

i thank you for bringing me here

DAY'O 17...daylight come an me wanna go cum...

i cant believe i made it
well i still have to make it through this evening
but as much teasing and denial i have endured in my time
this was surely the one that caused the most discipline
blurry eyed aching
and many sleepless nights

even now i am moving my legs back in forth
involuntarily
rubbing myself
many odd ways have been invented these past days
and i lose my breath contemplating any degree of their detail

i have involuntarily rubbed my nipples walking down stairs
sitting in a chair
like an aroused zombie i have humped a walls corner
woken from deep REM to catch a wet dream's dream before it was too late

ive submitted to my fears
and succumbed to my helpless lust and induced service
my whimpers have become trite
and gagged by resignation
i crawl to the will of my captor
pleading for release
wound tightly
a spring cocked with dire need
please...oh please...oh please

d-d-d-d-d-day 16

i awake
heart racing from pre-mature sleep
my involuntary humping
leaving me like in a cold sweat

my cock points
and directs my walking
i sit and write

my insides are on its mouse wheel
i am what i am told
nothing more
ive been rinsed of will by will

can lust do all this?
set a course for eating oneself inside out
dry dripping want
reaching for light

it does seem now
that the closet is
a whimper's only refuge

day 15

i am afraid to stroke now
three days left
it rises now with its own mind
i ignore it
it whispers...pssst...psssst
i ignore it
the ache is an accepted reality
what am i to do

i think of the helplessness
the lack of choice
the matter that has a governess outside myself
the focal point being the suffering itself
the 'taking on' of it all
the succumbing to task
bare to the cold chill of next
and the empty hours of 'no'
i of course lust
but it becomes about power
the transference of animal want to the etching of a piano roll
playing the notes of her composition
being played, keys baren of my fingers
as i watch
just as others might
my dissonance rarely resolving
empty of will
time summing up my chromatic scale
even my whimpers swallowed by black keys
i dangle from the faint pull of strings

days 12,13, & 14...of abstinence

abstinence

sometimes the only choice
a ripe tomato about to fall from its vine
i am a walking piece of swollen meat
my eyes wander up legs
and my ears twitch to staccato struts

ive swallowed my need to bare the time
becoming a slave to normalcy
a submissive is always in service to something
invented games
mind tricks
and those precious and honored times of a Woman's will

kneeling within the frame of your construction
i have found for three days
a hiding place of abstinence
desperation, an achieved goal, set on my mind's mantle
peering into my ache
as i live with it

my face turns bright red
past each whiff of wind from any female with prowess
i am sure they see right through me
i dream of service
to aid in the mitigation of my suffering
given to focus on things even as tantalizing as her will
yet selfless as all service must be

it is a desperate race to the line you have drawn
and i through the pledge of submission
am crawling as fast as i can
all thoughts yielding the puzzle of 'no'
resolution to fate
configuring time in order to make it
enduring till i am there
the threshold given to me
as kneeler to your throne

even this contemplation
as seemingly worthy as i attempt it to be
runs blood to shake my breath
and make me quiver with want
and dizzy with choices that lead nowhere

i am captivated by your mind
and the tension of acknowledged distance
submission to the grace of your pointed finger
seclusion from its view
i rest happily yet tortured by its inventions

the lure of a Female laundry list of creative chaos
a blueprint inflicted upon me
i run like a mouse upon its its white lines
racing to absorb each and every consonant
taste each vowel
as they are dropped inside my box

i am starved for more
as slow as it comes
intoxicated by its density
just wanting what is next
it is my only reward

day ELEVEN

i basically collapsed last nite
pure exhaustion
lengthy dreams of tensions released
i awoke refreshed
smiling
happy
till i showered
and noticed
that i was hard
and the ache set in
and the recognition of denial
and i rubbed a bit
and whimpered as my balls filled up
even beyond their capacity
buldging now
and i wanted release more than ever before
i stopped just short of orgasm
but i leaked a tiny bit
i held it back
with my head tilted back
my hair still wet from the shower
i breathed deeply
resigning to my unfortunate fate
i swallowed my reality
put on my underwear
tried to calm my pitched tent
and went on with my day

now i sit here...and it rises again
as i write
but it knows
there is only so much it can do
i sigh

...day 10...

after a sorry mistake
a prolonged ordeal
another sleepless night
too worked up from corrected transgression

i mustered the day...with yawns and caffeine
the bags under my eyes holding sharp memories
of shivering bones and helpless moans

i hope my apologies and acts of suffering
rest like bon bons at the reach of your painted nails
to caress and scratch aimlessly
my distant purrs evaporating before they hit your ears

i can hardly see
now that i am at the end of a very very long day
and in my mind's eye
i remember your harsh words
and the deserved shudders
milk white vision trauma

all this and my balls ache too
closet time held me
contained and rung out what i yearn for most
in the most inappropriate time
but that is what slavehood truly is
doing what you are told
whenever you are told
and leaving the puddle of your tears
as emblems of suffering

tonight, i stroked a little
mostly while writing this
remembering the text of your voice
and afraid of the edge
i must now, walk away
to wallow in my predicament
so grateful again and again
whimpering...
expression beyond gasps
and the gags of distance

Day 9 Brrrrrrrrr

on only 2 and a half hours of sleep
i made it through a very long day
only to find you eager to have me suffer more

last night's 5 minutes was torturous
both because i got so aroused so quickly
and because i had to stop
and you sent me to bed

i wanted to stroke all day today
got wrapped up in my work
but often escaped with the reminder of my ache
an ache that is really now very hard to control or ignore

it has been 9 days of arousal, torment, and denial for me
and while i want to cum so badly...the thought of pleasing you with more suffering drives me further

tonight i am shivering to temperature torment
which you brought to a new level
my mind shadowed by undeveloped REM
my skin pimpled with a goose's smile
each moment i dont know what is in store for me
and sleep deprived and frustrated i can hardly cognate the possibilities

all this and i am so ever grateful
and wanting to stroke
and show you how i lust
stroke and show you my need
and let you toy with my gasps for relief
with the known resolve that knows no end

Day 8

a busy day
up at 6am
stroked for about 20 minutes
the ache filling me quickly
my cock swelling and rising slowly
creeping awake
not accepting fast stroking
but pinches and squeezes
aroused terribly but not really hard
almost like it was fed up
but it doesnt take long before it loses its resolve
and stretches to its fullest
waki waki
it proudly erects
i'm COCK it seems to say
and i let out a moan
and then that cold realization
that this will not end well
and i let out a whimper
and realize it is time to go

Day 7

it has been 7 days now
i have expressed the inner rumblings of my psychology
and professed my fixations upon you who rule me
i like to get completely wound up in the rule box you lay out
i know it is easy for you, and that you are busy, and that i probably yearn for abuse when a conversation might be more appropriate

but i wake up now...so horny from the days of arousal, the days of no arousal, and the 5 minutes you allowed me yesterday
and well, i walk down the stairs touching my nipples
i see a commercial on tv or an flash ad on the internet and i let out a quiet moan
all i want to do is stroke
and be that animal you lock away as you have so easily described

i dont know how to apologize for it...i wish i knew the perfect balance of when to speak
and when to wish for you to point your finger

i stroked for an hour this morning...fit it in
knelt with some vaseline, closed my eyes, and wished you had ordered me to
the first 5 minutes were impossible
because the days of cum that have built up screamed for release
the next 10 minutes i got under control
and started to fantasize
its just what i do
dream of ways to be controlled
and kept in this state of utter arousal without end
the more i do it, the more i want it
it is a vicious cycle, and such a cliche

ive been afraid i am getting boring
and when i fantasize i feel that i am getting pushy
what kind of servant/mashochist/onanist male pervert am i, if i dont submit to whatever your will is
my insatiable need for arousal, and my enforced denial till the 26th
is license i suppose to indulge to keep my momentum of frustration alive
yet it seeks from
structure
the rubics cube of your mind
to tell it its next steps

i loved the objectification the other day
yet missed the direct arousal
i love the titrated sleep
yet panic sometimes
yet love when that panic is abused
i love this assignment
yet whimper in its silence
yet love its distance
yet yearn for more

i am a walking set of contradictions
when you heat me up
i reduce to a low male pervert like a sauce becoming more potent with its true essence

the next half an hour i whimpered terribly
used my fingertips at times to maintain a close to the edge arousal state
ive trained myself to suffer that way
staying right on the edge for hours
that is what i wish so deeply to be for you
a whimpering pathetic frustrated being...simply revealing his rawest form of need

while i have stroked for many hours on end...even over night
if truth be told, i have not witheld release, often due to accidents, for as long as currently prescribed
and thus i am torn for how much arousal i should engage in, in order to pace myself

my balls ache terribly...i shower carefully
but they fill me with grand dreams of captivity
and more stroking
and desires to still be amusing for you
so that i may continue to have glimpses of your wit
intellect, cruelty, arousing aura...and mostly your control

i am very grateful

Day 6

the timbre of my days
echo 6
and bugle unheard cries
but the sea that carries the weight of ache
drifts away from its shore
dragged further away than arrival's expectation

and figments of imagined smiles enjoyed
by you and the hims of your daylight
and your night
fall sharply upon my naked face
chilled by the air of cold cold quiet
as i soak like damp wool
reeking of want

i walk head tilted
cause the eyes of women notice
they can peer through me
and see the lust dripping like tears
i avert out of respect

and head to blog
and stroke to each futile end
and search as instructed
for non-moving, yet difficult legs to endure
just because
you had asked

Day 5

having missed an evening of you
i've tossed and turned
like a night fritter
sizzling in a sleepless haze

having been such an object
strokeless for almost two nights
i rub and the jeanie of ache smiles and winks
i am whimpering even in whispers
leasning forward towards your photo
knowing the weekend brings your silence
im not sure panic is too soft a word

i am in heighted state of suffering now
brought on by soft breezes upon my nipples
quick turns that squeeze my jeans
and finger tips that involuntarily meet touchpoints
like a nymph left on shore

W H I M P E R

Day 4

today your reach spanned daylight's window
and continued its hold upon my daze
my eyes are weak
and my need sore
you keep me humming on fumes
titrating my sleep
i engage the day with a fog
your toy sent among its own
with wanting in his pocket
and tears swelling in inoperable ducts
your image burned into the haze he parts to see my lunch

my head wobbles heavy
yet jerks for curved bodies passing
an unatural flashback
to the world you keep me in
i try not to embarass myself
but the perv inside reaches through my chest
and i duck corners to blush

when a moment catches me
i was to be that object again
stroking
dripping spasms of restraint
how much more can you make me want
you are the food
and rubbing the water you bring me to

i can hardly stand
the weight of your will
ringing in my ears
i dont know what i want next
let me lust or something close to your amusement

Day 3

luckly the day ate me up
though i stir from deep sleep
twinge of need swirling
i esaped a long day of distraction
only to feel it more potently
nudge me from my slumber
and leave me now with a sharp calling

it winks at me
reminding me of its controller
and jarring the juices left stale and abandoned
you are its north pole
and whimpers crawl up my esophogus
invoked by the mere thought of you
and how your side glance captivates me

i need to be cloaked in this need
these are the ingredients of bondage
captivity of a mind desperate for drowning
wanting every gasp to be of your attention
attenuated by your blood-red-finger-nailed-twist of a knob
from the control room of your post
high above the dwellings of my ache
and the screams of my wanting

i am crawling
to a mirage of hope
but it is as real a pull
as the guide of a needle's pull
pointing to your electric wave
this is not yearning
it is an exodus of choice
leaving naked
my goosebumped skin
as i stroke oblivious to the wind

Day Two

all she said was do this
i stroke all the time anyway
but it is different
under her control...there is no way out

i whimpered into my pillow last night
the ache from my balls making me find new positions to sleep
it was a five hour run
kept up long after my eyes begged to close
they slammed shut once horizontal
but i found myself humping them awake
dreaming of her
and facing the futility of rubs
exhaustion won its battle
and i arouse early
the ache still apparent
earlier than my body's desire for rest
my horny self causing its stir

oh my an exhausting day
hobbling my balls around
them feeling dragged across pavement
i caught my unconscious self touching my nipples in the middle of the day
i gasped

meetings went late
and imperative errands kept me longer
from a private space
where i could take it out
and watch it rise rapidly to say 'please'
i shook my head...it is not for me to say
still i grabbed it and closed my eyes
squeezing rather than stroking
and pulling
jerking
oh my god...already there in moments
i had to put it back

i want to stroke more
do nothing but
for her attention
know her pleasure from my suffering
and endure need's see-saw with cousin obey

first post

i am shoved into your cyber corner
locked in your little electric closet
a tiny pm box left blank with silence
with only my next stroke to keep me awake
and desperately in need

hours go by
as i aimlessly stare at the screen
hoping you will think of me
and type to me
i realize how pathetic it is
but each glimpse into your mind
each moment of your intellect
takes me further into need's cloak
pushing me deeper into your debt
and wanting more and more of you

and the more i want you
the more you point me towards my fate
a never ending ritual of want
stroke meeting stroke
quenched only by another stroke
and the perpetual denial you keep me in

there do come those moments
when the desire is soo overwhelming
i just want to shout
or cry
or whimper like a puppy
and wish you can hear me
and sometimes i whimper pathetically in your IM box
wishing you knew how hard it was to distrub you
but how i cant control myself sometimes with the need to let you know
what you have done to me

and when you make me deal with your inevitable unmoving resolve
i take a hard gulp
and learn to absorb another level of frustration
hoping i am getting credit for each level in some way
imagining you reading my dire state from afar
omnipotent among my ache
lightly tapping my cage with your mind when you see fit

you make me an animal
a wanton dish
and there is no way out of my cage
for you are too amused

how can it be that i can be kept so
never even a touch
hardly a bother
you knowing just the amount of cruelty to last hours
and the right time to gag me
and lift my dreams
to a new set of maybe's
and probably not's
and barrels of weakness you have rung from my confessions
and scrambled on the floor
like a fetishist shoes
placing me neck high in them

i stroke
and stroke more
and i continue to stroke
and whimper

it is 3 hours now...will this go on?