Imagining the Higgs Boson

I’m currently working on an assignment for Goddess.  In the course of this I came across a post in a forum from a girl asking for advice about putting her boyfriend into chastity for the first time.  She was thinking about three weeks for his first period of lock-up and was wondering if that was too harsh.  That first post was from 2010 and the thread now runs to 77 pages!  She locked her boyfriend up and has kept the forum updated on all their adventures ever since, receiving along the way lots of comments, advice, and suggestions for head-fucks and games to play from other men kept locked by their wives and girlfriends.  She’s an excellent story teller and has aroused and frustrated her audience, including me,  almost as much as her boyfriend.  I only had time to read fully her accounts of the first week – his first period of lock-up before release was for a week – and skipped over much of the rest.

During that first week she teased him relentlessly.  She got home from work before he did and was always waiting for him dressed provocatively in outfits she knew he liked (the sorts of things she only ever wore for him in the bedroom) with her hair freshly washed and straightened.  She flirted and teased him all evening.  She made him give her orgasms.  One evening he came home to find her pleasuring herself on the couch with her vibrator.  She made him watch and then ordered him to take the vibrator and continue.  When she was close she made him bring her off orally.  Under this regime he couldn’t keep his hands off her so one evening she told him that if he touched her at all that evening he’d be kept locked up for another week.  For the rest of the evening she crawled all over him driving him crazy.  As release day approached she deliberately convinced him by the things she said at home and the text messages she sent him at work, that release would mean an orgasm for him.

When release day came and she had him tied to the bed she began by giving him a long slow teasing blowjob, keeping him close to the edge but never letting him orgasm.  She’d stop every so often to give him time to calm down, then she’d put her mouth back on him and start all over again, edging him over and over.  Later she straddled him and rode him, but really slow, verbally teasing him as she tormented him with her body.  Again she was edging him repeatedly.  Eventually she had him bring her to orgasm orally.  Afterwards she had to leave him for over an hour, still tied to the bed, before he’d calmed down enough for her to get the chastity back on him.

While I read all that I suffered all manner of torments in my own chastity.  My balls ached abominably, my cock was tormented relentlessly, and my pants were soaked in pre-cum. 

While I’ve been working on this project for Goddess my evenings have become a reflection of my normal working day: get up, wash, eat, go to work, come home, wash, eat, go to work, go to bed, get up, wash, eat, go to work, come home, wash, eat, go to work, go to bed…  An effect of that is that I’m thinking about Goddess constantly.  Many times last week at work I’d suddenly find myself with serious torment going on in the chastity, with my cock straining to get hard and the skin of my scrotum being tormented.  And then, to add to the mix of what’s already spinning around in my head, I have all these mental images of this girl relentlessly teasing her boyfriend's cock with her clever mouth, her lips and her tongue, with no intention of letting him cum.  Inevitably I was empathising with him and of course wishing I was him, wishing it was my cock; and, thinking of Goddess all the time, wishing the girl was Goddess Valentine.

But I just can’t think of Goddess that way.  The idea of anyone so perfect, so flawlessly beautiful as Goddess Valentine being with anyone like me in a manner so intimate is so outlandish, so unreasonable, so improbable, that the moment I try to imagine it it disappears.  So after I’d read this account, for the rest of the night and for the whole of the following day both at work and at home, it span around in my head, with thoughts of Goddess spinning around it but both on different orbits, occasionally coming close but never meeting.  But as they span they were picking up speed, gaining energy.

At some time in the early hours of Friday morning, deep in my head, the two ideas smashed headlong into each other.  The massive release of energy had to discharge itself somewhere.  I was woken immediately with a rock hard straining erection jammed into the end of the tube of the CB3000, hauling agonisingly on the skin of my scrotum caught on the A ring.  How long does it take to dream an image; seconds, a fraction of a second?  I was sitting on the edge of my bed with my hands handcuffed behind me.  Goddess Valentine’s gorgeous sexy mouth was on my penis, Her soft red lips sliding along the shaft as Her mouth pulled on me.  She drew me out of Her mouth and I saw Her clever tongue curl and flick teasingly at the head of me.  She looked up at me with Her irresistibly beautiful blue eyes, Her long blond hair gleaming and cascading soft over Her shoulders.  In the instant I realised what I was looking at the image vanished completely.

But the energy of collision between the two ideas was far from being discharged.  I was awake now and the image morphed into a waking dream of wickedly cruel and calculated teasing.  I was in a room in Goddess’s house, naked and standing restrained between two upright posts with my hands held slightly away from my body.  I was locked in chastity and I was gagged.  Goddess Valentine was standing in front of me.  She was wearing Her lemon mohair sweater, the first one I bought Her as a surprise gift and to which She’d reacted so ecstatically, saying how gorgeously soft it was and how much She loved it.  There was another slave there too.  He was similarly restrained but blindfolded instead of gagged.  We were positioned turned in towards each other so that Goddess standing between us made the third side of a triangle.  Goddess was looking at me and caressing Herself in Her sweater, running Her hands over Her arms and over Her body.

“This sweater is so-o soft, phil,” She purred seductively.  “It feels so delicious against My skin.  I know how badly you wish you could be in My arms; to feel the Goddess you love so much, so soft and warm against you.”

Still looking into my face She reached out and slowly slipped Her arm around the waist of the blindfolded slave.  “There,” She said, still talking to me, “a little treat for You because you love Me so much and you’re a good slave.”  She moved Her arm against his skin, caressing him.  “How does that feel?” She asked me.  “Is that nice and soft?”

Being gagged I could only plead with my eyes.  A mocking smile played around Goddess’s beautiful sexy mouth.  She turned away slightly and slowly put both arms around the blindfolded slave’s neck and pressed Herself against him.  Although he couldn’t see it She lifted Her face towards his and began saying how close Her lips were and how soft they were.  “How long is it now since a girl kissed you?” She asked and I knew She was still talking to me.

We were both being cruelly tormented by our chastities; him because he could feel what the Goddess he couldn’t see was doing to him, and me because I could see but couldn’t feel.  This scene went on and on in a waking dream with everything Goddess said and did designed to torment me, guided by everything She knows about me and my hopeless lovesick desires, but where the only thing that was real was the relentless cruel tormenting of my cock and balls.  And it went on for an hour.  Without interruption.  A solid hour of relentless physical and emotional torment all driven by the collision in my head between my thinking constantly about my beloved beautiful Goddess and about the powerfully erotic account of a girl teasing and tormenting her newly chastised boyfriend.  It was excruciating.  And it woke me up again later; repeatedly.

All of this I suppose begs a question.  On the one hand there’s this guy, kept in chastity by his girlfriend, tied by her to their bed, unlocked and tormented by her lips and her tongue and her mouth and her body teasing his frustrated cock.  On the other hand there’s me, kept in chastity by a beautiful Goddess I’ll never even meet, never unlocked, and tormented in the middle of the night by my own fevered imagination and the things that Goddess and random chance plant there, while at the same time knowing I’ll never be allowed to feel anyone’s lips or tongue or mouth or body on my frustrated cock.  Who is the most teased and denied?

Answer in 1500 words.  You may use both sides of the paper.

Audience with a Goddess

On Friday something truly remarkable happened, something which led to a night of relentless torment; at work I met a girl who was Goddess Valentine’s equal in beauty.

Around 10 O’clock I got a phone call.  It was for something that had only just then been arranged, and that in a rush, so the message I got only made partial sense.  There had been some kind of audit which had shown up shortcomings in the filing of paper records in one department.  I was to go upstairs to this department and meet someone, I was given a name, and then spend the morning showing someone else how to do this thing properly.  When I got upstairs no one seemed to know what I was talking about but at least the name I’d been given was recognised.  Eventually someone appeared who knew what was going on and I was shown into a small side-room to wait.

There was a girl already in there, reading a magazine and sat in the corner on one of the easy chairs that lined three of the walls; she was also waiting and was introduced to me as E---.  I could heap superlatives on her but if I simply say that she was every bit as beautiful as Goddess Valentine that’s more than enough to convey that she was very beautiful indeed.  She was a Goddess.  She is a Goddess.  In acknowledgement of Her superiority I’ve capitalised Her from here on.  I left a respectful empty chair between us and sat down.  After we’d said hello and established that She didn’t really know why She was there either She went back to Her magazine and ignored me.  She was very cool and self-assured.  After a bit of a wait the person we were supposed to be meeting arrived and explained what we were wanted for.  I was to show E the correct way to file these particular documents in their record folder so that everything was in its correct location.  We were shown where the files were that we were to work on.  We collected some and took them back to the room.

As I began to explain E told me She wasn’t familiar with anything I was showing Her.  She’d never seen any of this stuff before.  I’d assumed She had some connection with the department we were in but She was from another department altogether.  She wondered Herself why She’d been chosen for this.  I went right back to basics and explained them as succinctly as I could.  At least that helped distract me from what She was doing to me.  She had pale blond hair, about shoulder length and partially pulled back and tied in a plait; the rest was clipped up.  There was a fringe broken up across Her forehead above Her blue eyes.  Her voice was like honey.  She spoke softly and I had to look at Her to hear Her properly.  She was wearing long false eyelashes with dark grey mascara and smoky eye shadow which forced me to look into Her gorgeous blue eyes whenever She said anything to me.  I’m sure She knew exactly how beautiful She was.  Sitting beside Her, talking to Her, being forced to look into the beauty of Her face and inevitably being powerfully attracted to her, I was acutely aware of what an absurd old gargoyle I was compared to Her and how utterly beneath Her I was.

All this was taking place in the context of a work situation so I had a valid reason for being in Her presence but even so She was really getting to me in that place Goddess knows so well and was making me feel very small, weak, inferior, pathetic, inadequate – all of those things.  Those feelings ran as an undercurrent the whole time I was with Her and fostered their own thoughts even as on the surface I concentrated on the job I was meant to be doing.  Feeling so utterly beneath E reminded me how utterly beneath Goddess Valentine I am and how unworthy of being anything more to Her than a slave and how lucky and privileged I am even to be that.   Right from the first moment I was seeing E in the same way; as a Goddess to be worshipped and adored.  I was responding to Her beauty in the same way I first responded to Goddess Valentine’s, with an urgent desire to submit to Her; but at the same time as I felt the desire I knew it was completely without hope.  I had absolutely nothing to offer Her after all and She was only sitting two feet away; She could see what She’d be getting!  I was in the presence of a Goddess but completely unable to reveal my feelings.  The best way I can describe how that hurt is that it was like meeting Goddess Valentine in an alternative reality, remembering from my reality all the joys of submitting to Her and being owned and controlled by Her, but knowing that in Her reality it never happened and never will.  And that I’ll probably never see Her again.

This job was only supposed to take a couple of hours but E asked me if I could come back after lunch as She still wasn’t confident She’d got it all.  I had other stuff I had to do but it would never have entered my head to refuse Her anything.  Absolutely I could come back.  In the end I spent about three and a half hours with Her.

After I left E I went back to what I’d been doing before and for the time being that distracted my thoughts from Her, partially at least.  When I got home though I couldn’t get Her out of my head.  It may have been just the way She made me feel about myself but I’m sure there was a natural dominance in Her.  I kept finding myself drifting into mad ‘what if?’ daydreams like if I’d gone down on my knees in front of Her and declared my adoration of Her goddess beauty.



I searched for ages for a picture to illustrate this post. I was amazed to find this. This is astonishingly close to E. She is even looking at me in the same way.

Once I’d gone to bed the dreams started.  All night two flawlessly beautiful and unattainable goddesses pranced through my brain.  Goddesses E and Valentine, sometimes singly, sometimes together, teased, tormented, humiliated, and rejected me, over and over.  Half the time I didn’t know whether the relentless torment of my locked up cock and balls was driving what was in my head or if it was the other way round.  I was writhing around in absolute torment in my bed.  I think I was in some species of delirium.  Under such an onslaught I could hardly be said to be have been asleep at all but the dreams continued uninterrupted and perfectly vivid.  My balls were aching abominably.  The skin of my scrotum was stretched agonisingly by the back ring.  My cock was straining but had nowhere to go as the head was squeezed and teased relentlessly.  I kept seeing myself in bondage with both of them standing before me, mercilessly look-but-don’t-touch teasing me while they mocked me.  I was desperate to touch them, for them to touch me, but the only thing ever to touch me was my chastity device. I was desperate for release; for them to finally make me cum.  But they didn’t.  They were merciless.  I only slept for brief periods the whole night.  Goddess E was still tormenting me in the morning when I gave up on getting any more sleep and just got up.