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Bedtime in the life of a pet (NSFW text)

13 May

I wrote about mornings a couple of weeks ago. Yesterday, I saw a Twitter conversation about sleeping in bondage, which spurred me to continue the series with bedtime.

Jalan and I have a bedtime ritual (of course). I almost invariable am sleepy well before she is. I’m a terrible, terrible, morning person. I might start getting drowsy at 7pm, or it might be 10:30pm — most often 9ish. As I say something to the effect of, “I’m starting to fade, Ma’am,” we begin the ritual.

Most often, it begins with “How was your day?” Currently, both of us are home most of most days — “living in each other’s pockets,” as I am wont to say. But this is still important. It’s not just, “What did you today?” which we generally already know, but rather, “Was it a good day?” We talk about this. It’s ¬†connecting time.

We then usually talk about what the next day will bring. We may already know the just-the-facts, but also what we’re looking forward to (or not). More connecting time. We may or may not make plans at this point for something additional. Finally, I ask what time to awaken her in the morning. Most often the answer is 7am. And, of course, there are the “I love you”s and “sleep well”s. There is a certain formula she uses at night to tell me she loves me, but that’s private.

Sometime in this, she recognizes I’m falling asleep, so offers to tuck me in. This invariably involves at least leather cuffs locked on. The baseline is the ankle cuffs padlocked together and the wrist cuffs padlocked together, but there are variations. More often than not, there’s a chain to the bed from at least the ankles, sometimes also from the wrists. The amount of slack I have depends on her mood and what she perceives will suit me that night.

Then there are nights (mostly when I have little to do the next day) that it’s much more rigorous. Sometimes she gets out the leather play collar and locks it on, chaining my wrists to it — damage to my primary collar is not to be risked.¬† Sometimes, my wrists are anchored to my ankles. Sometimes a combination, leaving me little maneuvering room. Sometimes, it’s a whole web of chain, though she is careful to not leave my lying on locks. It’s not always chain, but far more often than not. On occasion, there’s a blindfold or hood (such as our spandex hood with the sewn-in blindfold but a mouth and nose cutout, so there’s no breathing concern). On occasion, there are fist mitts locked on, making my hands rather useless. Plenty of variety.

On occasion — fairly seldom, her judgment is usually sufficient — I’ll specifically ask for something particularly restrictive, depending on my emotional needs of the night. I almost never ask for a specific form to the bondage, just a degree of restriction. If I’m particularly stressed or anxious, the bondage is usually more stringent, whichever of us makes the decision.

Obviously, it’s not always easy to sleep. Though as other claustrophiles know, the bonds can actually make it easier. There’s also an interaction with the desire and ability to masturbate, but there are rules aplenty governing that, so it may or may not happen.

I’m under standing instructions to wake her for bathroom needs or any distress, not just physical. As noted in the previous entry, I’m usually wake well before 7. The actual time to wake her to be unchained (barring bathroom urgency) is, more often than not, actually determined by the dog’s need to be walked . . . Jalan finds it less disturbing to unchain me than to wake enough to walk the dog herself.

That’s my night, almost every night. I love my life.

 
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Posted by on May 13, 2012 in Daily Life

 

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