Restraint and service

There is a lot happening when I sleep. Rare is the night when I sleep like a baby, blissfully unaware of my self; awakening from a state of nothingness. I absolutely love it when it happens, usually when  I am desperate for an eight hour sleep, but on a day by day basis it is not meant to be.

The night before last my husband tied my wrists together and my ankles as well. I loved every moment of it but I suspect the minutes I was fast asleep and unaware of the ropes were few. I tossed and turned looking for the best position, eventually deciding that lying on my back was the way to go. By early morning I was conscious of the fact that my hands were in the prayer position, palms face to face, and the soles of my feet were also together with my knees spread. I was aware of thinking how marvellous I thought this new position; a sort of meditative position on one's back. I could feel my sexuality simmering away; like I was a slow cooker.

At times like this, my mind turns to chastity belts. I imagine what it must be like to be told one cannot touch oneself, or to be shown that one has no hope of touching oneself by being put into a chastity belt. In my thoughts I can take this several steps further by imagining that I'm under the control of people whose business it is to train me to accept these constraints on my liberty. Constraining my sexual liberties in reality is something I can't really come to terms with but in the night I often go to the thought; almost as if it were the last frontier for me; the constraint that  I must endure because I can't endure it.

My sexuality was given free reign later that same morning although my liberty was still in question: holes filled and gagged, eyes covered, hands tied to bed posts. That evening, I constrained myself in my usual way expecting that the plug would co-operate and leave me to sleep. But, it was not to be. My mind was too active, not with worry but with being taken and used in various ways; with men (and women, what's more) wanting to use paddles and canes on my rump. I squeezed and squeezed in the hope of settling the situation down, but in vain.

Eventually, and it's not a thing I do lightly because I like to imagine that I am in a chastity belt and have no choice over the matter at all, I woke myself up properly and went and removed the object causing me the sleeplessness. Almost immediately I think, I went into a deep sleep, waking only when  I heard the garage door open downstairs and registering that my daughter was leaving for school.

This notion in my mind of constraint and use sit side by side one another. I like the idea that I must show patience and forbearance and I like the idea that I am a waiting object. When the use takes place I like the idea that I am object designed for use and hungry for use.

Along with the interplay of restraint and use is the interplay of a mind filled with the desire for use (but the inability to do anything about it) and the mind that is emptied of all matters but sensations when use takes place. Whether I'm locked away in one fashion or another or abundantly used, it's all service (for me!). Shhhhhhhh.