ball gag training, session five

Session 5 of my gag training was last night and things went well....erm, mostly. I surprised Ma'am and I both by how well I took to the gag last night. I managed to stay calm and serene despite the repeat occurrence of the activity that provided such harsh pain in my prior session and until “the incident” panic and fear were nowhere to be found. I was proud of myself and happy with my progress and even allowed myself to drool without immediately wiping it up!

Since I was doing so well, Ma'am decided to up the ante. She'd been playing with me idly for a while and wanting to add more pleasurable stimulation to the pain I was already feeling, she slid her hand under my skirt. She had me moaning and writhing in no time, gag all but forgotten until I realized that I had no clear means of requesting permission to cum. I did, however, find a suitable way to make my plea clear and I think my orgasm began before the words “you may” had fully passed her lips.

I didn't find it difficult to cum this first time in the gag and promptly forgot about it again as Ma'am brought me higher and higher. By the time Ma'am gave her consent to my second orgasm, I was fully lost in pleasure. As I tumbled over the edge of the abyss, I tilted my head back in ecstasy...and began violently choking on my own saliva.

It was a horrible, terrifying end to the session. I'm grateful for Ma'am - she had me ungagged in no time flat and provided endless comfort as I clung to her for some time afterward, trying to shake off the fear of the experience. Needless to say, I'm not exactly looking forward to Session 6 at this point.

Stupid, stupid girl – almost drowned herself by forgetting she was gagged....

training update

I've had four training sessions with the gag so far and on the whole I believe I'm starting to acclimate to it. While I seem to continue to have some difficulties in my initial acceptance of the gag, I've gotten better at wearing it for an extended period and my panic episodes have diminished in frequency. I've come to terms with the fact that I will drool while wearing it (although I still find it rather distasteful) and made strides in fighting the compulsion to swallow. This, I think, is my most important progress as my inability to swallow properly is one of my main triggers for panicking.

Ma'am has varied each of my training sessions and introduced different positions and different methods of pain and stimulation into each. In my last session, I wore the gag tightly for the first time. A different and harsher pain than previous sessions was incorporated and one of my big fears was realized – crying while gagged. This is something I was very afraid to experience - I didn't think I'd be able to deal with crying in a gag. The very idea of it instilled intense fears of choking and suffocation. Fears I hope I'll be able to put behind me now that I've gone through the first experience.

It hadn't been part of Ma'am's plan to bring me to tears... There came a point when I knew that they were coming and I wouldn't be able to stop them. I began to breathe deeply and rapidly, trying to be calm and trying to push my rising fear aside. Ma'am could see I was struggling and was very encouraging – the sound of her voice helped to anchor me and soothe a bit of the edge. And as my tears loomed ever closer I put the full force of my focus on trying not to fight them, resisting the urge to compulsively swallow as I normally do when trying not to cry.

And then they came.

I sought Ma'am's eyes when they started to fall – saw a flash of surprise and the tenderness they held as she gently wiped them away. I was suddenly, and strangely, calm. These were quiet, gentle tears with no distress. A detached part of my mind wondered idly when my airflow would be cut off, wondered how I was so calm on the cusp of such great fear, but I was untouched by it. I was drooling a lot...but that didn't seem to matter to me either.

Shortly after the tears had run their course, my nose plugged up and I felt my fear creep back in. I could breathe around the gag but I wasn't getting enough air. I signed to Ma'am that I needed the gag removed and bowed my head as she unfastened the strap. Once removed, I blew my nose and took a few deep, deep breaths to prove to myself that I could breathe. I was ready to resume my allotted time. I put the gag back in my mouth and bowed my head for Ma'am to refasten it. When I looked again into Ma'am's eyes, I saw her pride and had to close my eyes for a moment. I still don't have words for how I felt in that moment...

I don't know what caused the tears. It could have been a form of release from the pain and heavy emotion that I'd recently made my way through. It could have been the pain itself or something I haven't begun to understand yet about the depth of my feelings of submission. What I do know is that these tears were important and cathartic. It was the first time that I barely registered the drooling (and was unconcerned about it when I did) and the release they provided allowed me to continue wearing the gag in a more peaceful state, somehow purged of some of those things that get in the way.

training begins

Last night I began gag training – something of a necessity as Ma'am and I are working on increasing my pain tolerance and have been delving into heavier and more sustained pain than I can easily (and quietly!) take. While I've used a ball gag before, I don't tolerate them well and become distressed and panicked after only a short period of time wearing one. Because of this, Ma'am usually chooses to gag me with a bandana between my teeth and it isn't very effective in helping to dampen the noise. This past weekend we bought a beginner's ball gag. Our first use didn't go as well as we'd hoped and so Ma'am has decided that training is the best way to help me get used to it.

Ma'am thought it would be best to start me out under the least intense situation she could think of – sitting on the sofa. I was to wear it loosely for 3 half-hour periods with ample breaks in between and had been given permission to spit it out if it became too much for me. I was determined not to, of course, and Ma'am and I both knew it.

I can't say how many times I fought against the panic, for a while it seemed an almost continual thing, but Ma'am was there with me the entire time – watching over me, comforting my distress - her soothing hands caressing my thigh or smoothing my hair. She kept telling me how well I was doing and how proud she was of me, reminding me that she loves me and maintaining eye contact through the worst moments. Her obvious pleasure and pride gave me courage and strength that helped me to calm myself and the simple kindness of providing me with tissues to wipe away the drool instilled a sense of gratitude and love distinctly out of proportion to the act.

I had thought (hoped?) my evening's training was complete when I made it through my second round – a particularly difficult and drooly time in which I'd started to choke and my panic reached fever pitch. My heart sank when she she told me she wanted me to go one more round and I didn't know how I'd ever be able to do it. My voice was small and pathetic when I told her that I was ready. Improperly – but she forgave the protocol lapse.

The lapse, and particularly Ma'am's silent yet clear acknowledgement of it, helped me to move my focus from my fear and impending suffering to a more appropriate place. It reminded me of my place and my duty to be obedient to her will. And it proved to me that she was paying attention...she was watching me as she had been all night and I knew that she wouldn't let anything happen to me. Ma'am wanted 30 more minutes so I opened my mouth to receive the gag and gave them to her.

The most surprising thing was the variety of powerful emotions I went through during the course of the evening. Behind and between the panic and distress there were feelings of helplessness and humiliation, the undeniable revelation of Ma'am's control and my bending to her will, my struggle for obedience in the face of my fear, the reward of Ma'am's pleasure and pride...and even arousal. I felt my submission stretch and deepen, felt the need to bow to it – the need to bow to the woman before me whom I fought against fear to please, and I sank to the floor by her feet to receive her pleasure and her comfort.

This was not an experience or lesser intensity as intended but rather more intense because I felt every nuance of it - unhindered, undistracted, and undiluted...