Journal #2          3-3-2015

 I was greatly saddened to hear about the death of Leonard Nimoy. Mr. Spock was the shit and definitely one of the best characters ever created for television. Live Long and Prosper.

 Anyway, I decided to do a little light training in order to increase my pallet strength. I remember seeing an old video were a slave male was tied to a chair then force fed random concoctions made from a pantry while being verbally humiliated and all that good stuff. Now I use to be that kid in the lunch room who would mix mashed potatoes and peanut butter into an ice cream cone, but I never thought of that being any form of potential submissive training. I haven’t gone so far as to create truly “fear factor” level food abominations, but I have been practicing little by little to increase my constitution.

 The last time I did anything of the sort, I had saliva on the brain. I love seeing videos or photos were a woman is gagged and spit is just oozing around her lips and falling to the floor. I fantasize about being forced to ‘clean up’ all the excess spit that has coated the ground by licking it up as thoroughly as I can. In real life, spit, saliva, and loogies are possibly the most disgusting fucking things I can imagine. Whenever I see a guy hack up some lung butter, I very seriously want to vomit. However, by that same token, my mind is so warped around the thought of being dominated by a woman that seeing a woman spit can give me an erection.  

 While I know what I know, that fact remains that spit can still gross me the fuck out. So I made an endeavor to suppress such revulsions while also trying to incorporate food humiliation, and gagging myself, but in a good way. I started by placing a plain piece of rye bread into a doggy bowl. I had recently found a very large rubber band in my college classroom and made sure to squirrel it away, thinking I could find some use for it later, and that night I did. It was really simple actually. I stuck out my tongue as far as I could, then took two pencils and pressed them against my tongue like slices of bread with my tongue being the meat. Then I wrapped the rubber band around the back of my head creating a support strap for my pencil gag. Now my tongue was being pushed out without my being able to retract it. I leaned myself over the dog bowl and waited for the saliva to start flowing. It was ages before I got as much as a drop. I figured I needed to ‘stimulate’ the saliva production process, but I had wished that I had a contingency plan for such an event. Sadly, as the ‘training process’ continued, I was unable to get the truly copious amount of spit on the bread in order to soggify and nasty it up.

 With my tongue still vulnerable I tried other irritants that I felt would be good training to toughen up my slutty mouth. First were strong breath mints. They had a very light burn, but the minty aroma made my eyes water. I would suggest cinnamon next time. Then I tried hot sauce. It had more burn, and definitely more saliva, but still not painful enough. Finally I decided to end it by just chewing up a bunch of mints, swishing around some water, and spitting it all on the piece of bread. I then cuffed myself behind my back and dug in. I managed to finish it rather quickly, and the only way to describe it was “like eating a tooth paste sandwich.” I had tried similar things in the past, and have even just gone crazy by getting naked and crawling through a gauntlet of yogurt, peanut butter, and whatever else I could find that was messy and genuinely hard to clean up

 On a side note. A few days after the pencil gag, I found my tongue was very sore. I wasn’t sure if this was from it being held in an uncomfortable position for so long, or the pencils themselves crushing against it. I didn’t mind the after pains, but I was surprised for how long afterwards I felt them. I do carnal aerobics, basically simple tongue exercise to help keep up your stamina while you’re going down on a chick. One of my favorites is just to write the alphabet with your tongue a couple times a day, and trust me, it will make a difference.