Tag Archives: The Pedant


So I wrote to The Pedant:

Just for the record, my dream, for years now, has been to have a man who submits to me in bed but ALSO in other areas that make my life easier. A go-getter I can delegate things to (like planning outings) and he’ll present me with detailed options to choose from

I don’t presume to think that your movie-planning prowess is anything more than vanilla helpfulness.

But if you ever WANT to submit to me in a wider capacity than bedroom stuff, let me know. You would be so exactly what I want.

“So, basically, you want a house-husband,” The Pedant said. Asking for clarity about what exactly would be involved in submitting to me more, I guess. That bodes well.

I wrote another wee novel:

Well you can’t be THAT, given that you don’t live with me and I can’t support you…but elements of that, I guess, insofar as it’s possible. Reliably doing what I want, and doing so in the spirit of being in service to me.

In which “what I want” would mostly be minor fetching and carrying, making food, tech support, planning and organizing outings or other things. Maybe Googling shit for me sometimes.

And also of course all the sex. 😀

He hasn’t responded to that, and the conversation drifted off elsewhere. But that’s fine. I’m happy to have gotten my thoughts off my chest. He usually needs time to process relationshippy talk so I’ll just back off a while and see if he eventually approaches me to ask more about what I’ve said.

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The Pedant ended up utterly outdoing me for dirty talk the other night. His prose was descriptive and had rhythm and was just…hot. I could barely keep up. How long he’s had this skill sitting in his back pocket I don’t know. 😀

The slightly weird thing (and a big reason I felt I couldn’t keep up with him) is that I said some mushy thing about how lovely he is to play with and he said “Do you really enjoy using me that much?” and I said yeah, I couldn’t think of anyone else I’d rather collar (the convo started with me showing him a titanium eternity anklet online and saying I’d love to lock one onto him, remember). And it’s true, I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather collar, because I don’t currently have anyone else who submits to me.

And he started up a sort of call-and-response rhythm of saying “Only me to do X and Y to?” and some of the things weren’t even D/s related – he was asking me if I wanted to touch only his nipples and stuff. And I mean I’m willing to get caught up in fantasy and hyperbole to a certain extent but I just started feeling uncomfortable. Like how far would this go? And would he start thinking I actually meant it and didn’t want to play with anyone else? If I then ended up meeting someone else who bottomed to me, and mentioning it to The Pedant, would he feel misled?

It was late at night anyway so I eventually just ended the conversation as gracefully as I could, saying I needed to get some sleep.

I didn’t think The Pedant was the type to eroticize being the only one to do whatever with me. I mean we’re both poly and living with other people. So this was…weird. It almost felt as though he was asking for reassurance or trying to get me to say that I’d only do D/s with him and nobody else or something. I dunno. I’m probably overthinking it.

His overall response to me sending him that link to the anklet did get me thinking, though: would he let me collar him? Maybe not an anklet per se, because that’s a bit too unconventional for The Pedant, I think, and really would probably not work under the kind of tight lace-up boots he usually wears. But I could see him liking the look of something like this titanium bracelet. And I really, really dig the idea of him having a reminder of me locked onto him all the time.

Something seems to have clicked over in The Pedant. I’m not just topping him anymore, and haven’t been for a while now. He’s actually into the idea of me genuinely having control and using him as I please; he focuses on my pleasure a lot more than he used to. And although we’ve only negotiated bedroom D/s, he does seem to try to impress me outside the bedroom, too, doing little things to make my life easier. Carrying my knapsack for me, paying for things for me. Lots of little gestures that just light me right up. Things he didn’t do for the first few years we were together.

And the things he’s said about feeling safe with me to explore these parts of himself just make me swoon. I guess I’d like to declare ownership over that small piece of his psyche. I’d like him to more formally declare himself mine. And, okay, I suppose I’m a bit jealous that he’s living with someone now, and want some sort of counterbalance, some evidence that he loves me, too, despite being less entangled with me life-wise.

Anyway. On a related note (or maybe not) he wants to take me to see the new Bladerunner movie on Friday and I asked him to do some recon on locations and times and I’d buy advance tickets to whatever he thought was best. The email he ended up sending me was…breathtakingly thorough. He sussed out the best location for our needs, showed me times, linked to where precisely to buy tickets online for each showing, linked me to supplementary materials I might want to watch ahead of time (the best version of the original movie, some short films made after that which take place in the same universe).

Now, it may well be that he was thorough like that just because he’s, well, pedantic. He’s always been anal retentive and detail oriented. But can I just say, my dream for years now has been to have a sub I can delegate things to and who will be extremely helpful and thorough, just like this. So I got his email and I was like “Holy shit, this boy is the sub I’ve been looking for all these years.”

And once again I’m wondering if he could come around to thinking of himself as that. Or if maybe he already does. When he does these acts of service, he is being nice to me or is he serving me? What goes in inside that gigantic melon head of his?


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Up and down

The Pedant is so weird. He’s a lot more forthcoming with sexy talk than he used to be, but he’s still really inconsistent with it. Maybe it just depends on whether he’s horny or not at any given time. I enjoy sexy talk just for the sport of it and would engage in that sort of banter with him at almost any time. Like not during a bout of the stomach flu or while watching the vet examine my horribly sick cat or something. But I don’t have to be actively wanting to wank in order to talk dirty.

A week ago I texted him: “I wish we were in a blank white room somewhere with you tied to the bed.” I was hoping to get something sexy in return, which does happen sometimes these days.

Instead he replied “That’ll have to wait. My work shifts won’t allow me to visit on October 16th, sadly.” (I’d asked him about the 16th ages ago – The Dandy is away that night at a work retreat thing. At the time he said he’d think about it but when I didn’t hear back within a few days I honestly just forgot all about it.)

By contrast, just now I texted him “Currently daydreaming about locking one of these onto you. Probably not practical under boots, but you’d look so pretty… http://www.eternitycollars.com/anklets/titanium-anklet” You can kind of see how flinchy I am there, anticipating the reasons why he’d tell me he wouldn’t wear such a thing. Being sure to specify that it’s a daydream.

His response: “It makes me hard that you’d want to keep me as a pet like that.”

Guuuuuuh I’LL BE IN MY BUNK.


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Turmoil and comfort

The day Dandette checked herself into the mental hospital, I was not in a good headspace. My own mental issues were spiking. I was freaking out at the prospect of living, indefinitely, with someone whose moods are so up-and-down. I was upset that she told The Dandy where she was going but not me. And I wanted to get out of the house before Dandette returned, just in case she was still freaking out; I couldn’t handle it.

I texted The Pedant basically begging him to come for coffee or something and comfort me. He wasn’t able to right away, and he flat-out said he was broke so I’d have to pay. That was fine by me. I took him to Swiss Chalet and he was his wonderful, comforting self.

He seems to have gotten over his previous conviction that I need him to know what anxiety is like. It’s his emotionless clarity and logic I’m after and I think he finally gets that (thank god. I was getting sick of arguing the point). I specifically told him, over big plates of chicken, that the apartment is too fraught and full of feelings right now and it was comforting to be around someone who’s kinda flat. “Does The Dandy not give you that?” he asked.

“Actually, he does. He’s not a terribly emotional person, and it’s one of the things I really like about him. But you’re a lot better at talking me down. It feels like someone told The Dandy ‘women need you to just nod and listen while they vent’ so that’s what he does – even when I am directly asking him to do specific things to help me.”

“And that’s not at all what you need.”

“Well, it has its place sometimes. But I mean sometimes my anxiety makes me unable to decide between two arbitrary choices and I’ll ask him to tell me which one to pick, just so I get unstuck, and he won’t. I asked him about this once and he said he’s afraid of having that responsibility in case the thing he picks doesn’t work out for me.”

“Ah. Whereas I don’t have that fear. I know that I’ve made the best decision I could based on the available info so there’s no use worrying about it.”

“Yeah, and you also know that I’m not gonna blame it on you if things turn out badly.”

“That, too.” And he regaled me with some stories of exes who were not so reasonable.

We talked a bit more about how I like it when someone offers suggestions etc when I talk about my problems, and that them empathizing – like, feeling my distress and reflecting it back at me, as many people would – tends to make me even more anxious and I don’t like it. I said that The Pedant consistently being there for me when I need him demonstrates to me that he cares about my well being, and that’s all the caring I need – not for him to be all caught up in whatever my problem is. He said that he’s not emotionally invested in my problems whatsoever (which, put that way, sounded a little cold) but that it is indeed important to him that I’m happy (which is maybe the first time he’s ever said that to me, and is as close to an “I love you” as I’ll probably get from him for the next few years).

OH and I guess he thinks of us as “dating” again. A while back he had asked if I was okay with us being “friends with benefits” (I guess he felt a need to differentiate me as less important than his other girlfriend?). I was like yeah, FWB, whatever. My observation with The Pedant is that once he loves someone, those feelings never actually go away, and he did tell me he loved me at one point. Certainly he was treating me exactly the same way as he ever did when he thought of me as his primary partner.

But the other night he said that he wants to introduce me to NewGirl sometime; that they both felt they should introduce any other serious partners to each other, and given how long he and I have been seeing each other, we certainly count as serious.

He also said that he mentioned to NewGirl that I have a housemate going through mental health issues that are making living here difficult for me, and she said I could crash at their place sometimes if I wanted(!). That…is amazing. I am frankly stunned by her generosity.

I asked The Pedant “If I’m over and NewGirl is there, what’s the etiquette? Do I need to not be physically affectionate with you, or…?” and he said nah, it was all totally fine(!), including us fucking in the next room where she could hear us(!). Now, The Pedant sometimes makes stupid assumptions, and also NewGirl hasn’t been poly before, so I’m not 100% believing that it’s total carte blanche. But it seems like I can at least kiss him in front of her and gauge her reaction and that she’ll probably be okay. The rest we can play by ear.

The Pedant asked if I’d like to crash at his and NewGirl’s place that night and I was tempted but ultimately said no. Too much newness (new dynamic seeing him with someone else, new bed to sleep on – in this case a shitty old single futon with no sheets because they have more apartment than furniture – new kitchen that may or may not have anything in it I can eat). I had to work the next day and needed rest. But I appreciated the offer very much.

I can’t remember what-all else we talked about during that evening (during which we sat in Swiss Chalet til it closed and then found a park to sit in some more). He just generally talked me down from my crisis and held me while I cried intermittently and managed to slip in about a thousand little compliments about my appearance, lifestyle, personality, and relationship skills (possibly the best one was something about wanting to be there for me because I’ve always been so excellent at supporting him, and when I said “I try” he replied “actually you make it look pretty effortless.”)

Oh and near then end when I was feeling substantially calmer we went on a whole segue into sex talk. I was talking about how wonderful it is to have Dandette around doing the lion’s share of cooking and cleaning. He said it’s too bad we weren’t seeing each other when I still had my stable day job (we were, actually, but Minx was still living with me so it’s moot) because he was unemployed back then and could have been my houseboy. He went on at length about how he would have unfucked my hugely cluttered, filthy apartment little-by-little and also had dinner waiting for me when I got home (“And presented it to me kneeling, in nothing but your collar” I interjected, and he gave a tiny little gasp as he is wont to do when he’s turned on. :D). He added that it’s certainly not something he felt he could do for very long. “Well, it would’ve been a hell of a month or so,” I said (honestly figuring I was pushing my luck even thinking that long). He said “Well I would have gone longer than that.” RAWR.

He walked me up to my apartment door and we kissed and I longed to fuck him but knew it wasn’t the right time and we said goodbye instead.

Inside, The Dandy was making himself cheesy garlic bread and Dandette wasn’t home yet but expected to be released shortly. I bade The Dandy make me a piece of cheesy garlic bread, too (gluten free though) which he cheerfully did. And – although The Pedant had left me feeling a lot better than I was before – I guess I still had a lot of angst, or The Pedant had distracted me with his sexiness rather than defusing my original angst, or something. Because I started venting to The Dandy about a lot of stuff and ended up in his arms, crying my fucking face off.

Somewhere int here, I mentioned to him how I’d specifically asked him for verbal comfort before to help with my anxiety and he hadn’t done it. He looked baffled and had no idea what I was talking about. I recounted the conversation and he said he just hadn’t gotten it, somehow, and that if that happens in future, just ask him again in different words.

I explained to him (not for the first time) that I have a really hard time asserting my needs in the first place when I’m anxious because AssholeBrain likes to tell me I’m a liar and a faker for attention and really there’s nothing wrong. So when I say I’m not doing well and I get no “Oh shit, how can I help?” response, I assume the other person has looked at me and assessed me to be doing just fine so I really am a faker. And I can’t – cannot – bring myself to go “Yeah but seriously though I need you.”

On an unrelated note, I also expressed guilt feelings that I was venting to him when he already had Dandette and her issues to deal with (and added that every time I’ve told someone about our household menage and they’ve said “Heh heh, lucky guy, gets to have his cake and eat it, too” I wanna punch them in the fucking face) and The Dandy was very sweet and said I’m allowed to be going through stuff and he wasn’t overwhelmed by it or anything. So I felt a lot better.

Incidentally, though, I still haven’t been sleeping well and when I came home from work this evening I told The Dandy that I thought I might need a nap after dinner to try to reset me – and that it would really help if he spooned me and petted my head for ten minutes or so, so my brain would calm down enough to maybe let me rest. And he never approached me to do this or brought it up again since.

I honestly wonder if he ever even listens to me when I’m upset or if he just sits there with a comforting expression and nods at intervals while mentally planning out what to watch next on YouTube.

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Third and probably final installment of the recent-ish Pedant visit

When we got back to our suite after dinner, it was around 1am and truth be told I was pretty tired and could have just gone to sleep. I felt like that would be a waste of the room we’d paid for, though, and The Pedant made it clear that he was game to keep going all night, so I rallied myself as best I could.

There had been talk of The Pedant bathing me and then massaging me, but the stupid bathtub  in the suite had no plug for the drain (none in the sink, either) so the bath part of the evening was moot. I did grab my thing of moisturizer and have The Pedant massage my feet with it, though. And he was quite thorough and didn’t ask “so, better now?” every thirty seconds like he used to. When he did finally ask if I was feeling better (in a full sentence and with much a more sincere tone than the flippant “better?” he used to repeatedly give me) I requested a bit more work on my right foot and he provided it, for a good long time.

He got me off again, and preparatory to that, he lubed up my dildo by sucking on it (I’m honestly a bit squeamish about the spit-as-lube thing but it’s definitely not the sketchiest thing I’ve ever done to my vag and anyway I wanted to enjoy the show). He sucked my juices off the dildo after I’d come, too. Like, full eye contact, wrapping his lips tenderly around the head and then taking the toy as deeply into his mouth as it would go. The visual turned me on but in a weird way I was hesitant to let it turn me on because, like…did The Pedant understand that I was kinda-sorta picturing him giving fellatio to an actual cock just then? It seemed like he was putting on a deliberate show to turn me on, but was it a fellatio show or an I-bet-you’re-anticipating-this-toy-inside-you/look-how-much-I-love-your-juices show? I was a little scared that if I stared too intently he’d suddenly realize what was going through my head and get all weirded out. So I tried to play it at least a little cool.

But, you guys…I…I think he actually was deliberately giving fellatio to my dildo*. I’m not absolutely sure. But I think so. This may be one of those things where he was freaked out at first but slowly came around.

I ended up securing The Pedant to the bed again (this time in standard spread eagle formation) and cutting his boxers off him with scissors and edging him a whole bunch. It will never not be amazing to me that he can get off from such slow, languorous touches. I told him to tell me when he was close to coming because I wanted to edge him a bit, and I just kept swirling each my lubed-up hands sloooooowly around the head of his cock and then down the shaft in turn, and pretty soon he was telling me “I’m close” after ten seconds of this and I would back up and let him cool down a bit. At one point he requested I insert the stainless steel butt plug. It’s really nice to see him asking for this; now I know for sure it’s not just a thing he’s doing for me. I’m not sure what the plug does for him, since when I use my fingers he seems to prefer me moving them in very gentle circles just inside his entrance rather than pushing on his prostate, but apparently it does something.

Unfortunately, when I finally decided I wanted him to come inside me, I rode him thinking he’d go off like fireworks inside of a minute but he…didn’t. His dirty talk lapsed from “I want to come inside you” (which was hot) to “please make me come” (which is a bit performance anxiety-inducing) and I was shunting up and down on his cock so quickly as to feel somewhat undignified. I decided I wanted to go back to the slow stroking. I dismounted, pulled the condom off, and went back to the hand job.

(On a side note: at no time during any of our canoodling did The Pedant seem even remotely tempted to enter me without a condom. There were times that we were lying with our genitals touching and I sensed no hyperawareness of this and no shifting closer to “tease” himself as he used to do. Which is hurtful to me. Back when he and I weren’t really seeing anyone else and we agreed not to ditch condoms until we got STI tests and they came back okay, he “got carried away” and put himself inside me before either of us had even made an appointment. But now that he has a girlfriend who’s said “we’re fluid bonded, don’t bareback anyone else,” apparently he’s not prone to getting carried away anymore. That little reminder that he loves someone else and will effortlessly adhere to her boundaries stings like hell – especially since he didn’t adhere to mine back then. I enjoyed telling myself it was because our chemistry was just so hot he couldn’t help himself – but our hot chemistry is still very much there and he’s somehow found self-control. Fuck.)

Even with me back to stroking The Pedant with my hands, he was having a hard time getting over the edge. I felt kinda bad for him. I wonder if I went too far with the edging and his cock just abandoned all hope, or if he was just tired because it was like five in the morning by that point? At any rate, after quite a bit more struggling and straining and desperation, he finally did get off. His orgasm was less sustained than one might expect; in fact he got oversensitive really quickly and whispered “stop.”

After that he passed out immediately, as he is wont to do. I needed more time to wind down. I ended up only getting about two hours’ sleep in the end (he didn’t fare that much better; maybe four hours for him). Once we’d checked out of the suite, we went up to my place to catch up on sleep for a bit. He used some flimsy-sounding pretext to avoid using my and The Dandy’s bed; I assume he just felt weird about that  and for some reason didn’t wanna tell me flat out. We ended up dozing cuddled up on the couch. Unfortunately the building picked the worst possible day to start testing the fire alarms, so the klaxon went off in little bursts every five minutes. But I managed to get some rest, anyway, and I think he did, too.

Then he needed to get home so I walked him to the bus stop ’cause the building/neighbourhood is complicated at first. And the bus came and we kissed goodbye and that was that.


*Related: last night I unpacked a box left over from moving in here and I found my packer (squishy limp cock-n-balls that a person without a cock-n-balls of their own can put inside their pants). I stuffed it into the front of my boxer briefs, found The Dandy, and asked him to cup my package. He wouldn’t. He refused to touch this hunk of squishy rubber(?) simply because it was shaped like a penis. Actually I’m pretty sure The Pedant reacted the same way, back in the day; it’s nice to see that he may be evolving a little bit.

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Dinner (part 2 of the last Pedant visit)

Right, so The Pedant and I slept for a few hours and then wandered upstairs for dinner with The Dandy and Dandette.

It’s always hilarious when guys do the macho posturing thing with each other. The Pedant and The Dandy greeted each other curtly, in voices slightly louder and an octave lower than usual. I half expected them to start pulling empty beer cans out of thin air and crushing them against their foreheads while yelling “BOO-ya!” at each other. Curiously, though, The Dandy had opted to come to the dinner table in his blue brocade pajamas, which somewhat undercut his manly, aloof facade.

In case any of you have forgotten, the two of them do know each other. Maybe friends is the wrong word, but they met years and years ago in the goth nightclub/concert scene and are acquaintances. And honestly it’s not just The Pedant who is pedantic; the first night I met the two of them, we headed home on the same bus and the two of them got into animated chitchat about Military Uniforms Through the Ages or similar. They both know a lot of esoteric things and like to talk about them at length.

Dandette brought out candied carrots, risotto, and a pork roast. The Dandy took one look at the slices of pork and said they were too pink for his taste. Dandette said she knew he likes his meat well-done and she orchestrated it so some of the roast was pink but some was not. The Dandy still looked skeptical (while not even looking through the slices of meat to find the well-done ones) and Dandette wearily said “Fine, I’ll just fry yours up until it’s more cooked.”

I’d taken some pork off the platter immediately but Dandette whipped the rest of it off to the kitchen to re-cook, leaving The Pedant awkwardly meatless. I could hear her muttering to herself that she couldn’t do anything right – a mood she gets in sometimes. When she brought the meat back out, she excused herself and left the apartment. I figured she was having an anxiety attack and needed to be alone to compose herself; she hates having a fuss made when she’s like that, so I pretended like nothing was happening. The Pedant either had the same instinct or is just an insensitive asshole because he also ignored it – didn’t ask where Dandette had gone or anything. The two of them didn’t even try to leave some food for her to eat when she came back – they devoured it all.

When Dandette came back, the two guys were deep in conversation about politics and I was zoned out. She rolled her eyes and made some remark to me like “Ugh, there they go.” “Yup,” I said. “At this point I’m just letting their voices wash over me and thinking about how pretty they both are.” Neither man heard any of that at all, or acknowledged that Dandette had returned.

Just as an aside: I definitely do consider myself poly. I like variety and I like freedom and I’m attracted to lots of different physical types. But when I’m into someone and find him attractive, I just obsesssssssss on his physicality. Like, stare and memorize every single feature of his face and body and find beauty in it all. It can be a little bit hard to even find someone else attractive when I’m in full-on obsesso-mode with a guy. Having both my main partners in the same room together was…you know that joke about putting a chameleon on something plaid? The implication that the chameleon will probably get overstimulated by trying to turn himself plaid, and explode? Kinda how I felt. The Dandy and The Pedant are both six-foot-ish white guys with brown hair and blue eyes – and, by complete coincidence, they also each have shoulder-length hair with an undercut and a mustache/beard (The Dandy didn’t have that hairdo back when we first met, and actually only acquired the facial hair after I dated him the first time around; undercuts and facial hair aren’t specifically a “thing” for me), but their bodies and facial structures are quite different. So as they yapped away about how best to fix our city’s public transit system, I kept looking from one to the other and trying to get my head around how they could each – at different times – be the absolute epitome of beauty to me, and yet they look so very different. I’d stare at The Pedant long enough to get starstruck by his pretty, and then look over at The Dandy and his face would look weird for a minute because it was Not-Pedant, but then I’d acclimate and The Pedant would look weird to me because Not-Dandy. Yes, I know I’m strange.

Anyway. Dandette told me that she guessed she just couldn’t do anything right that day, meaning the thing with the meat. Her tone was a bit histrionic – definitely she was depressed/anxious and trying to wallow in mean thoughts about herself – but I’ve seen her go through low patches like this before that passed without incident; I had no idea she would end up wanting to commit suicide later that night. I reassured her that The Dandy was just being dumb – she’d clearly told him that she had accommodated his tastes and he’d ignored this. And anyway The Pedant and I were totally on board with the medium-rare roast, and had very much enjoyed the carrots and rice, too. The Dandy had eaten everything on his plate and then some, in the end, too, so really the meal was a success. I’d hoped that I could logic her out of her anxiety. Obviously not.

At some point, Dandette broke through the guys’ wall of oration and we all hung out and talked about stuff that wasn’t politics. Then she went out for a smoke and during that time I made a dinosaur joke or something and that got the guys speechifying to each other about esoteric dinosaur facts. Dandette returned and looked at me like “again with the ridiculous dissertations?” and I was like “Yeah I think I brought this one on myself.”

Dandette eventually got the conversation to expand and accommodate all of us again. She got onto a whole tangent about her childhood, including mentioning having been raped as a kid and other things that seemed inappropriate to discuss with someone she’d only met once before, briefly, and couldn’t remember until tonight. She was drinking wine and it slowly occurred to me that she was pretty shitfaced (I’m slow on the uptake sometimes). She kept playfully humping my ass, trying to hump The Dandy’s ass and he sidestepped her, making comments that The Pedant might as well fuck her too because she and I already share one guy anyway so why not share all of them, making comments that she wishes I were into chicks so she and The Dandy and I could be a full triad instead of a somewhat ambiguous V. Pretty sure she was acting out because her other boyfriend recently broke up with her. In fact as The Pedant and I said our goodbyes and went back to our suite, Dandette outright told me “he’s cute and I’m jealous. Go have all the sex.”





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Da secks

The Pedant hauled both our knapsacks down to the guest suite and I showed him around (he’d been so late that I’d had time to get the keys and scope the place out well before he arrived). Then I flopped down on the bed. I really hadn’t slept enough the night before and was feeling it. The Pedant methodically stripped down to his boxers, stowing each discarded piece of clothing neatly in the bedroom closet in his anal-retentive way. Then he left the room. I could hear him puttering around elsewhere. After probably over five minutes has passed I finally got curious as to what exactly he could be doing (what even was there to do in that otherwise empty apartment except hang out with me or use the bathroom?).

I found him in the bathroom futzing around. “I thought I’d unpack your stuff and have it at the ready,” he said, shyly (I’d brought bubble bath and a thing of moisturizer because there had been talk of him bathing and then massaging me). How lovely. Our official deal is that he only submits to me sexually, but he seems to be deliberately expanding out into other kinds of service.

He really has the best mouth. All full and pouty and shit. I got distracted by all the pretty and started kissing him, seizing him firmly by the jaw to move his head whichever way I wanted it. He immediately began to melt. His knees buckled a bit and he ended up leaning his butt on the edge of the bathroom counter with his legs awkwardly splayed and bent. The way he so completely fell under my spell put me in an even toppier headspace and I just wanted to devour him alive. “Mine” I whispered fiercely between kisses. “Yes,” he whispered back.

(When I’m making out with a sub and it gets this good, I always feel at a loss for what to do – like my desire gets so huge that there’s nowhere for it to go. I was thinking about this last night and realized that I do know where I want things to go: I want to seamlessly use The Pedant’s (or whoever’s) body as a passive, pretty tool to get myself off. If I were a cis man, I’d accomplish this by shoving my cock in his ass until I came. If I were in this body but ten years younger, I’d accomplish it by grinding up on him until I came. Unfortunately, I can’t come these days just from humping someone’s leg/pubic bone/whatever. I physically can’t use a man’s body for my pleasure the way I want to. And I hate that.)

I kept on making out with him for a while, occasionally going full American Psycho with it and admiring my reflection in the mirror as I did so (yeah, it’s narcissistic as fuck, but I’m hot when I’m toppy and it kind of fascinates me. A few years back I did a kinky photo shoot with my then-partner, The Doll, that included a few selfies of me licking his face through his latex hood and yanking his leash and stuff. I usually hate pictures of myself but in these I smouldered. I was lit up from the inside and radiating power and it was mesmerizing even to me). I made eye contact with myself over The Pedant’s furry shoulder and gave myself a congratulatory look. 😀

After a while I gently disengaged and said “Please unpack the rest of my things and put them wherever seems most logical. I’ll wait on the bed.” The Pedant did so. He even scoped out where there was an outlet for my Hitachi to plug into, and moved the bed out from the wall with me still on it in order to access the outlet and plug it in. All his manly upper body strength harnessed just for me. Prawr.

When he was done I had him massage my neck and shoulders for a bit. Then I made him stand in front of me so I could peel off his underwear. “I know you wore old ones so I could cut them off you, but that’s better done when you’re restrained. I want to see you naked now,” I said. His breath hitched with arousal. He shimmied the rest of the way out of his boxer briefs and kicked them away. I pulled him down on the bed with me and we kissed some more and then I whispered that I wanted his mouth on me. The Pedant has no idea that The Dandy won’t give me oral – I don’t tell personal things about one partner to another like that – so when The Pedant murmured in my ear “It is such a privilege to go down on you” before crawling down the bed to service me, he was saying it just because he wanted to and not because it was the best thing I could possibly hear from a man at that moment. But it totally was the best thing I could possibly hear from a man at that moment. This is why I love having multiple partners – they each offer different but amazing things.

The Pedant went down on me while massaging my g-spot with his finger(s), and that quickly turned me on enough that I wanted to finish the job with the Hitachi. I don’t know if it was the intensity of my orgasm (which was really good) or the fact that we were alone in a fairly soundproof apartment but I when I came, I wailed like a friggin’ banshee. The Pedant came up and held me while I giggled and shook and fought down my rising tide of post-orgasm violence.

Eventually, once my legs felt like they might work again, I set about securing The Pedant to the bed and playing with him. God, I miss my bed with the dog leashes wrapped around each corner; every time we play these days we have to spend a few minutes rigging up an under-the-bed strap system. This time, I thought I would stray from my usual spread-eagle thing with him – instead I secured just his arms to the bed, and then tried putting dog collars around his thighs and connecting a strap from one of those through the ring on his bondage collar to the other thigh-collar so his knees were trapped up by his chest. I wanted to play with his ass and I wanted him to feel a little helpless and exposed. This configuration…kind of worked. Turns out he’s not that flexible so his knees weren’t anywhere near his chest. He was just kinda…lying there with his knees up and the soles of his feet still planted on the mattress. The bondage didn’t really immobilize him or hold him in a slightly uncomfortable position or even put his asshole much on display. But oh well, worth a shot.

I slipped a gloved, lubed finger inside him and used my other hand to play with his cock. The Pedant is my favourite person to do hand stuff to ever; he gets really turned on, reacts strongly, and doesn’t require a fast, mechanical, repetitive shuffle motion in order to get off. I can be creative. I can slide my hand all over his cock sllllooooowwwwlyyyy. So I did, and he moaned and arched and his eyes rolled back in his head. I brought him to what I’m pretty sure was the edge of orgasm several times, and each time I did, I let go of his cock and just stimulated his ass and nipples for a while. My idea is that maybe by doing that I could kind of bait-and-switch him into having a prostate orgasm, but even if that didn’t work, worst case scenario is he’d have a minute to cool down before I built him up toward orgasm again.

I debated just endlessly edging him and then stopping when it was time to go up to my apartment for dinner (Dandette wanted to meet him), but The Pedant’s orgasms turn me on and I had a feeling he’d still be good for another round by the time dinner was done, so I went ahead and let him come. It was satisfyingly strong, and afterward I had to wait at least five minutes to get my right hand back because every time I tried to withdraw that finger from his ass, he reflexively clenched on it. “Jeez, you’re like one of those Chinese finger traps,” I said, affectionately.

More later.



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