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Caging, Immobility and More Fear

September 23rd, 2010

If you click the picture, it'll take you to Extreme Restraints, where you can buy a cage very much like this one, among other awesome kinky things. That neck hole? Yeah, that freaks me right the fuck out. Almost as much as the hole at the bottom for a food dish. Or bed pan. ~shiver~

Was it yesterday? The day before? I can’t remember.  Master said something to me, and my cunt twitched as my stomach shattered across the tops of my toes, and my whole body came alive.

There’s always been talk of me just falling off the face of the earth.  Getting ourselves into a position where all of the bills can go into His name, and we have our own place instead of a flat, and only have lifestyle friends so if I disappear for weeks at a time the people we know will shrug it off as just something we do, and so M can keep me naked even when we have visitors if He wants to.

I suppose He could do that now, if He wanted, but most of the people we know would be uncomfortable or offended.

He said, “I will eventually keep you in a cage.  I hope you have no delusions about that.”

It was so unexpected, and His voice was so cold.  And I smiled that nervous smile, and turned just slightly away from Him, as if covering my nakedness somehow protected me from the overwhelming feeling of vulnerableness those words induced. 

I probably blew Him off with a “Promises, promises.” and went on with my chores, trying desperately not to give it a second thought.  That’s my usual response to something that makes me uncomfortable.

Uncomfortable.  What a way to say how you feel without really saying how you feel.

This ball of fire lights up in my stomach, and sometimes my chest.  My breath quickens, and sometimes tears well up in my eyes.  I have to remind myself that I’m not afraid of this man, and He won’t do something He thinks would cause me serious damage.

Or would He?

I mean, I’ll readily admit that I fantasize about serious abuse.  Nonconsensual abuse.  Getting the shit kicked out of me for no reason at all.  Not because He wants me to enjoy it, or even because He enjoys it, but because He just wants to kick me around a bit.  Being degraded turns me on like nobody’s business.  Having my limits and cries of pain ignored does some amazing things to my body.  My pussy aches and drips, and my senses heighten.  And there’s this line that, if Master decides to stop toeing it, and shoves me over, I’ll do just about anything once I’ve crossed it.

There’s no hesitation.  No fear.  No hurt feelings, or questions.  There’s not much of me there.  There’s only Him.  And His cock.  And whatever dirty thing I can do to make His cock hard, and myself worthy of His cum.

I don’t always know He doesn’t mean the things He says, and that’s part of the draw.  And sometimes, He does mean the things He says.  He’s not just saying them to get our respective parts wet.  He’s saying them because He feels them.  And that’s part of the draw, too.

He called me His little punching bag the other day.  And I felt small and mistreated for about half a second.  And as I sat there eating it up, the urge to beg Him not to stop and the fear of rejection warred inside my mind.  I don’t remember why I didn’t.  Maybe the phone rang, and the mood changed? Who knows?

I want a cage.  I don’t want a cage.  I love the challenge a cage presents.  I’m petrified of the challenge a cage presents.  I have insane fantasies of being somehow rendered unconscious and waking in a cage.  With my limbs bound, and my body made immobile.  With my limbs free, and the ability to move.  I think each will be just as difficult for me to accept in their own way.

I don’t like having no control whatsoever over my own mobility.  I love not having control over my own mobility.

For fuck’s sake.  I’m a bundle of jumbled emotions.

I am not a docile person.  I fight for things I believe in while M’s content to allow it.  And yet, I know that even while I’m terrified, I’ll quietly crawl in the door when He’s ready.  Submit to His will even as I want to fight.  Maybe even close the door behind me myself.

I read this post over on SlaveDuties.com about how she spent her week, and I had to force myself to read the whole thing.  Because the idea of being stuffed in a box and shoved in a corner in the garage, quite honestly, scares the crap out of me.  And makes my pussy melt.  But let’s do the cage thing first, please and thanks.  Acclimation is key.  Right?

Oh… And now that I’ve linked M to that page, I’m hiding the electrical tape. Just as soon as I find it.  And maybe the bondage tape, too.  Do you think the packing tape’s okay to leave out, or should I hide that, too? Hmm…

P.S. I keep wondering if Master really will do it.  There have been times when we’ve had extra money (as if there is such a thing), and I’ve suggested alternatives to that cage up there.  Smaller, cheaper things, like kennels we could buy at WalMart for now, while caging would still be an experiment for us.  And He always passes on it in favor of buying something else.  Maybe the fantasy will prove to be better left a fantasy? Time will tell, I guess.

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  1. September 23rd, 2010 at 16:35 | #1

    Just saw your ping come in from the link to my post 🙂 Thank you for that, and I’m more than glad that you enjoyed the post! I definitely look forward to reading more of your blog, as I myself am usually overcome with insatiable desire 😉

    Warm Regards,
    Slaveduties

  2. September 23rd, 2010 at 19:51 | #2

    @Slaveduties I think I might go crazy, being left alone with just my mind to occupy me for a week. But I’d love to at least try! Lol.

  3. September 25th, 2010 at 23:10 | #3

    Rayne,

    That cage is just hot. I’ve got to include it in a story soon. To bad it’s so freaking expensive.

    Dave

  4. September 30th, 2010 at 19:15 | #4

    @dweaver999 Isn’t it? I want one so bad. But yeah… hella expensive. :/

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