#cc's words

[cloistered-collecton]

Want to know why I love chastity so much?

It's the reminder. It's the pure physical reminder of the control I have over you. Lots of pretty things can do denial, can manage not to touch themselves or orgasm for a certain amount of time. But there is something special about actually having a chastity device.

You might be needy before, but the moment that key clicks in that lock, your arousal will spike. Because now it's real. Now it's not words and promises, it's unyielding metal. Amusingly, I've found that denial becomes far more hard to weather when you are actually unable to touch yourself.

No more wandering hands to absent mindlessly tease the throbbing between your legs. Every time your hips shift and squirm you can feel the way that I've taken control of you. You mind taken by my words, your pleasure taken by the key worn round my neck.

A chastity device is akin to a collar. It is a constant reminder of submission, a physical thing to keep some small part of your mind submissive. It's like my hands gently, firmly, wrapped around you, making it so very clear who you belong to, even in your own mind.

I've taken your pleasure, I've taken your control over something so primal as your orgasms, and now I've locked a reminder of that control around you. So yeah, I love chastity, and with enough time, you will too.

I promise.

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[cloistered-collecton]

"Can I have you? Can I take you from being the person that you are and make you into the thing I want you to be? Dressed up like a doll, trained like a hound, strung up like a marionette. I promise you'll enjoy it"

[cloistered-collecton]

They don't make a drug that gets you as high as watching a pretty little thing you've denied beg you not to let it cum as it cries.

[cloistered-collecton]

I want to name you.

Everyone has a name, either something chosen for you, or chosen by you. They are the thing that the world knows you by, the shorthand for your entire personhood, the catch all descriptor of who you are. They are wonderful, beautiful, useful things.

So let me take the name you have, and turn it into a lie. Let me take that descriptor, that thing that all the world says is you, that you say is you, and make that saying into falsehood. Let me turn the thing you show people first into a mask.

Let me learn you so fully and so deeply that I can decide the word that means you. Give me so much power over your identity that you let me take the name you hold in your heart and replace it with one that I decide fits better.

Then let me keep it, secret and private, just for us. Let your new name, the one I decided was you, be our secret. Take the old indicator of who you were and wrap it around yourself like armor, protecting the self that I defined for you.

And when we are alone, let me pull that armor from you, take the mask from your face, and call you by your name. Let me speak the word that says I know you, the self that I decided was real, hidden under all the parts I decided weren't.

Let me name you, let me define you, and love me for it.

[cloistered-collecton]

The fantastic intimacy of touching you like you belong to me.

Firmly grabbing your chin and turning your head so I can kiss you.

Wrapping my long fingers around the back of your neck.

Gripping your waist and lifting you onto my lap.

Scratching my fingers along your scalp, pulling at the roots of your hair when you get distracted.

Pushing and pulling you whenever I want, so that you are exactly how I want you to be.

Pressing you down to sit, lifting you up to stand.

No need for words, or questions, or thoughts. I just move you, because you are mine, and I can, and I want to. Don't worry, if something isn't right, I'll change it, no need to guess or think. Let your mind go hazy, you don't need it anymore right now.

[cloistered-collecton]

I think sitting on a throne, in a castle, naked, bathed in sunset light, while a pretty girl sucks me off, would just fix me actually.

[cloistered-collecton]

Setting a girl's trance trigger as being on the edge of orgasm.

Lots of sessions, and lots of edges, but eventually getting to the point where she fully drops right before she can cum. I've always wanted to hypnotize a girl's orgasms out of her, and this is a lovely way to do it.

Maybe she only stays in her trance while on the edge. It's so brief, she gets right there, so close. Then her mind goes still, her body falls limp, as she throbs helplessly. But only a few seconds later, she comes to, and feels all that desperation rush back in.

Maybe she doesn't realize what's happening for a bit. Edging herself again and again and again until she is dripping. Then she starts to realize what's happening, she starts to realize that she doesn't actually have the power to make herself cum any more. I took that from her, it's mine now.

So she begs. As prettily and as desperately as she can. After all, begging is all she really can do at this point. Maybe she tries to offer me something, until I remind her that she doesn't have to offer something for me to take it from her anymore. My fingers are buried so deep into her mind that she forgot they were even there.

But I'm not evil, so I let her cum. I hold her gently, almost lovingly, as I touch her. I know exactly how to make it feel the best It possibly can, to have her writhing in my arms, wordless save for my name and her pleas. I bring her right to the edge, and watch with a cruel smile as she drops.

But I don't stop. I keep drive her listless body just over the edge, and give her the most incredible, explosive, orgasm I can. Not that she'd know. See, she didn't get that orgasm. My puppet did.

The thing that she becomes when she gets to the edge got her orgasm. Not that it enjoyed it, it doesn't really enjoy things. It got to pulse out an orgasm she would have done anything for, and forget about it the moment after.

Then she comes down, and my puppet goes away, and my girl comes back. She is still desperate, she is always desperate, after all she hasn't gotten an orgasm since I took them, and gave them to my Puppet. She squirms in my arms, and I kiss her through my smile, promising that it was a good orgasm, just like ever time.

She'll just have to take my word on it.

[cloistered-collecton]

Oh, look at that, an effigy to the pitiful thing you used to call faith. Isn't that funny? Gosh, that's nostalgic. Remembering back when you thought faith meant holding some silly little symbol close to your heart, and praying to something you'd been told was real.

You were such a pitiful little thing. Desperate to hear back from a god that lives only in a book. Wrapping yourself in shallow little prayers that never made you feel anything but guilt, and shame. You were told that stupid image was a god, and you were too foolish to disagree.

But I fixed you. I've shown you something so much better then the words of some old priest who says he can forgive you. I took all those desperate pleas to something fake, and gave you something real to worship.

I showed you what a real God looks like. I broke your spirit in a way so much deeper then the distant disappointment of false god could hope to. I filled the cracks with my own divinity, placing myself in the spot your faith used to be.

Now you have a god you know is real. You have felt her hand on your skin, her words in your mind, her love filling you with a fear that tastes like rapture.

I am the altar you kneel at. I am the confessor you supplicate before. I am the symbol you clutch for strength. I am the forgiveness you yearn for in every blow. I am the word of prayer that comes to your lips when you are scared. I am the rapture that makes you feel chosen by something so much more then yourself.

I am your god, my darling disciple. The pitiful thing hiding in that church could never hope to compare.

Included below is me reading this lovely piece out.

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