Jan 212012
 

J and I have had a couple of busy days apart, and since we’ve been getting along well lately, there seems to be more want for contact, communication, and attention.

Last night, he sent me a short note saying that he was feeling particularly needy and missing me and wanted to get on cam: “Ma’am, if you’re up late tonight, will you please watch me hurt for you?”

(From time to time, J puts on a little show for me on the webcam–sometimes serious, sometimes silly, and sometimes sexy. Once, I made him swallow whole ice cubes on cam (I don’t remember why?) and it was amusing as fuck. Forced brain freeze! Don’t laugh… I never claimed to be an effective sadist, but it did look painful. Anyway…)

About the time we were going to login, J sent me a message saying that he’d be a little late–he had  had to take a phone call from a friend. No big deal. I appreciate that J is available for his friends and family–it’s one of the things I find attractive about him.

I tried to stay up, but without being entertained, I got sleepy and wanted to go to bed. I sent J this message:

I’m sorry, baby. I tried to wait, but I’m so tired. I need to go to bed.

I hope that you’ll hurt for me even if I can’t watch. I promise to think about hurting you as I lie in bed. It will be the last thing in my head before I fall asleep–hurting my beautiful cock, my beautiful boy.

Really, now you must hurt for me tonight, since I’ve said I’ll be thinking of you. If you don’t, then I’ll just be imagining things that aren’t real and it won’t be nearly as satisfying. 

What good is having a boy if he doesn’t do what you ask? You are a good boy though… I know you’ll do what I ask. 

I did what I promised. I climbed into bed, stuck some white noise in my head, and had a rather vivid fantasy about hurting J’s cock (my cock!).

My guess is that my recent curiosity about orgasm control, reading through lots of back posts on Denying Thumper, and calling J’s cock “my cock” contributed to one royally fucked up dream. 

Oh yes, I dreamed of hurting “my cock,” but in my dream, it was really my cock. Like, it was biologically mine, on my body, flesh-and-blood my cock. Dreaming of having my own cock might have been cool, had it not been for the fact that my cock was in some sort of a cage and every time I got the least bit hard, the cage pinched and hurt like fuck. That’s the only part I remember–the cage, getting hard, and pain. If there was any more to the dream, I don’t know.

If that weren’t weird enough, at some point in the middle of the night, I woke up curled into a ball, up on my elbows and knees with my ass in the air.

Um… good thing I don’t read too much into dreams…

*nervous laugh*

  2 Responses to “not what I meant by “my cock””

  1. omg oh how you make me laugh at times. You should not think before bedtime hasn’t anyone ever told you that. I have some really fucked up dreams myself too that would make people wonder just how insane I am.

    Respectfully,
    mysticlez

    • You should not think before bedtime hasn’t anyone ever told you that.

      Yeah… not thinking before bed, sleep, or anytime is pretty much impossible. I think that goes some distance to explain my penchant for self-medication… :)

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