Month: September 2011

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INMIY, part 2

nuts4belle said:

That is interesting how when “forced” lockup goes from being a fantasy to reality it is no longer appealing. That tends to happen a lot in life and it doesn’t look like chastity is immune. Hope you snap out of it and enjoy yourself soon. It is more fun when it is a cock cage and not a ball and chain.

Perhaps I overstated it. It’s not that it’s unappealing. I’m still on board with the practice and am nowhere near withdrawing my consent. Somewhere in my head, the usual feeling that the device and I are one hasn’t been allowed to set in and rather than feeling I am in my normal state, I feel the opposite. It’s not as appealing to me, but it’s not unappealing. I’m not not enjoying myself. The other morning with Belle was fantastically intense and really fucking hot.

That being said, yes, even your life’s sexual fantasy, if practiced long enough, can become mundane.

Mykey said:

The sleep. It’s a killer. If there is one thing that kills me it’s lack of sleep. The one big downer to denial those sleepless periods.

Agreed. Typically, I’ll not sleep for a few days then, due to exhaustion, sort of collapse into sleep for a day or two. That’s what’s happened this time, too. I’ve slept relatively well the past two nights and was only woken once by the stupid penis at 4:45 each morning.

Randy/Rachel said:

Seems like a you want what you want until you have it situation to me. Enjoy it for the rest of us whose wifes didn’t like the idea one iota.

Hmm. Perhaps. However, after living this for three years and writing about it the whole time, I don’t think I’m the kind of person who “likes what I want until I get it.” It’s far more complicated than that. Also, I expend no effort trying to “enjoy it” for all those reading whose wives are uncooperative in making real their husband’s fantasies. I’m not unsympathetic to those guys, but this isn’t a porn soap opera here. It’s my life.

After Belle read the post, she said she didn’t care much for the title. I can see that. It does have a bit of an accusatory tone that I didn’t intend at all. Sometimes, the title of posts are obvious, other times I struggle with them. That happened yesterday. I wasn’t trying to send a message with it.

She mentioned the idea of a break, but we didn’t really discuss it. Even though I wrote about it, I wasn’t prepared to talk about it. Since I’m not miserable or “in a bad place”, I don’t think I need a break. I would like one, sure, but I don’t need it. She will allow me to have it or not.

Going back to the metaphor of the relationshop stack made up of layers dependent on those below them to operate properly, the D/s layer is near the top. All the stuff I’m feeling is happening in there, not lower down. This isn’t a crisis at all, just a different manifestation of my submission. Therefore, the “solution” can come entirely from within the D/s stack. That means it has to can happen on her terms, not mine.

Meanwhile, I have a doctor’s appointment today and, while I don’t expect it’ll involve any groping or xrays or anything, you never know. Belle’s left me with the key so I can take the device off before I go. I’m working from home until my appointment and am painfully aware that I have at my disposal the means to remove my encumberment and am completely unsupervised. I nearly took it off when I showered this morning but left it on knowing that the soapy, slippery shower is a dangerous place. Now, I’m sitting with my computer and thinking about working on The Portfolio which is really dangerous. I’ll leave it on. I’ve decided I’ll only take it off just before I have to go.

How does this jive with the feelings I described yesterday and above? No idea. I think it means I want to be good even when the lesser angels of my nature are whispering in my ear. In that hotel room, I succumbed to their ministrations. Today, I’m just a bit stronger. At least for the time being.

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It’s not me, it’s you

I’ve been back in the device for just over two weeks straight (not counting the 20-30 minutes I was out on Saturday morning). My last orgasm was about two and a half weeks ago (you know, the unfortunate incident). Normally, at this point, I’d be really worked up, but I’m not for some reason. Also, I’m usually loving the feel of the device and really into it. But…I’m not so much that, either. The device hasn’t slipped into that “part of me” feeling at all. I’m always quite aware that there’s this thing on me no matter where I go and no matter what I do.

I’m not sure why this is. When she put me back in it, I remarked that I felt like now I had to be locked up or I’d jack off and squirt without permission. Before, I was a willing accomplice and, for at least some of the time, wanted to not come more than she didn’t want me to come. But now it’s required. I’m untrustworthy. Somewhere in my head, a screw has made a quarter turn and I’m one of those guys. Yes, of course, it’s all still consensual. But I’m locked up now more because she wants me to be than because I want to be.

Case in point. Last week sometime, I started to think about a break and how nice that would be. A week or two or four of being like everyone else. I could go unencumbered and play with myself whenever the mood struck. Gosh, what if I wanted to come every day? Even when it was just a little dribble into the sink. Wouldn’t that be great?

And now I’m like, what? Yeah, OK, I admit I want to jack off and I’ve love to come, but a break? Aren’t we defined now by this arrangement? Isn’t it a cornerstone of our sex life? Didn’t I give her the penis forever and always? Yes, of course. But still. The idea was appealing. I even almost brought it up. And it wouldn’t be like usual when what I really want is to hear her say no. Had I mentioned it, I would have really wanted it. Had she said no, I would have been disappointed.

But the thing is, this is what I wanted, right? Isn’t this the hottest fantasy of all the chastity wankers? The woman who locks you up even when you want out. Who keeps you from yourself and your pleasure at exactly those times when you really want it. So who am I to complain? And who’s idea is all this anymore? Right now and for the past few weeks, given a choice, I’d want out. I’d want to come. But she’s not letting me. Even though my sleep continues to suffer and I appear somewhat miserable about it, the idea of letting me out has never crossed her lips. She’s liked the idea of me being locked up for a long time now, but what changed is she wants me that way and what I want doesn’t really matter to her.

So here I set. Locked up. Kinda horny. Not really loving it. But exactly as I’m supposed to be.

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By the light of the sun

It’s been bad sleeping the past few nights. I have a hard time getting to sleep (or even feeling sleepy), then have a hard time staying asleep, then have to deal with insistent erections from about 4:00 AM on that wake me up. I have a few tricks to make them go away, but the most efective is to get up and pee. So anyway, crappy sleep. Occupational hazard of the chronically denied.

Belle and I woke up at about the same time this morning as dazzling sunlight poured through our window. The device was, as usual, very tight as the penis within was doing its stupid best to get as long and as hard as it could. I whined to Belle about it. She didn’t seem too impressed, but closed the bedroom door so I could get her off. To me, it felt like a quick, hard fuck. I didn’t linger or draw it out. I got her off as fast as I could. As if the faster she came, the better I’d feel or something. But once it was over, I was in even more misery. The penis was throbbing against it’s confinement.

I whined again. This time, about how I wanted to be inside her. Yes, it was lobbying, but I do that from time to time and it’s seldom successful. But this time, she seemed moved by my predicament and got the key.

“You can go for a ride,” she said, “but you can’t come.”

I frantically fumbled with the key in the lock. The penis had subsided just a bit and I had a very short window of opportunity to get the whole thing off before it responded to its new opportunity.

“Don’t get hard, don’t get hard,” I repeated under my breath.

I got the tube off and the PA fixing out of the way, but was too far gone to get past the ring. I was either going in with it on or would have to wait god knows how long before the hydraulics would allow it to be removed. Time was of the fucking essence. Her pussy was right there, all wet, hot and inviting. Somewhere in our house were children who would soon be demanding our attention. Even the dog was antsy.

Fuck it, I thought. I mounted her and pushed the stiff penis home. It felt, in a word, glorious. The cuff ring is too small to wear absent the tube which helps keep the penis from achieving its full erect girth. When it’s not there, the ring bites even more than usual. In my mind, I could see the penis with its veins all standing out and the head deeply red and swollen from the constriction at its base. It felt weird. Not bad, but different. As if I was fucking with someone else’s cock.

After a few minutes of this, the reptile brain took charge and told me to bite Belle. Of course, that’s not allowed, but I wanted to do it badly. I wanted to totally destroy her with this miraculous wonder boner and chew on her face. It was as if my brain was being doused by a fire hose spraying pure testosterone. All semblances of submissive bunny were swept away.

I growled into her ear, “I just love fucking you,” thrust, “so,” thrust, “much!” THRUST.

As I said, the sun was pouring in and Summer is making a last stand here in the Great North, so I was soon getting sweaty with my effort. I felt my forehead bead over and the sweat lubricate our grinding thighs. I kicked the blanket back and my pumping ass was exposed. Even it was sweaty. I felt like a rutting animal. The only human thought left in my head was DON’T COME.

The ring around the penis was becoming insistent in its biting. I would withdraw completely so just the tip of the head was surrounded by sweet pink pussy, then I’d thrust balls-deep, feeling the pain of the ring, the smooth, wet action along the swollen shaft from the folds of her labia clinging and caressing, the throbbing head going deep inside her, my mouth open on hers.

Holy FUCK! I got really, really close. Really. Imagine a beer commercial where they show the bottle tipping in slow motion and the golden fluid cresting over the edge about to pour into a frosty mug, except substitute the bottle for the penis, the beer for my ejaculate, and the frosty mug for Belle’s hot pussy. Then freeze the shot as the beer has just peeked over the edge. Leave it there for ten to fifteen seconds, then roll the footage backward. That was me, heart pounding, head swirling as she said, “I think that’s it, Thumpy.”

Pause. Think. Grind teeth. Flex the penis in her pussy.

Stop.

“Yes, Belle Fille.” And I withdrew.

The penis looked just like I thought it would. Swollen and purplish, glistening with her lube. The ring deeply embedded in the base of the penis shaft. It stood there and throbbed.

“You can stay out until tonight, but then you’re going back in.”

I pulled up my underwear and took the few bits of the device I could get off into the bathroom for a good cleaning. I scrubbed out the tube and, using cold water, cleaned the penis. It was still 80% hard and the corona of the head was massively sensitive. Chilly water or no, it wasn’t going down. And I knew, were it to be left out all day, I’d be messing with it every chance I got. With lots of work and more cold water, I shoved the genie back into the bottle. The lock closed with difficulty as the penis continued its futile effort, stuffed back into the dark cold tube.

I left the bathroom and put the key on Belle’s nightstand. I went to her in the kitchen and put her hand on my crotch.

“I’m not to be trusted,” I said as I buried my face in her neck.

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Six pinchy things

I only have the two nipples, but over time, we’ve collected six different types of pinchy things with which to torture them. I realized the other day that they’re not all created equal so I thought I’d write a little missive on each explaining why I like some but not others.

Each will be rated on three attributes using a scale of 1 (worst) to 5 (best):

Pinchiness — In short, how much to they pinch the nipple meat? Admittedly somewhat subjective, but it seems an important measure for those who like things clamped to their tits.

Grippiness — How well do they stay on, either when just hanging there, during play, or when being pulled on?

Viciousness — Another highly subjective measure, but exactly how mean and nasty is each? You know, in case that’s what you’re into.

I’m also including pictures of each, both in situ and a detail of the business end. Click on any picture for a ridiculously larger version.

KinkLab Mandible – $18.50

One of two newly-added items to our collection, they have a threaded adjustment feature that allows them to be made more or less tight. There is no spring mechanism, so the only way to make them grip is to screw them on. In practice, I found that to be somewhat futsy, though once on, their rubberize tips make them difficult to remove by pulling alone. They’re unlikely to come free by themselves, assuming they’ve been screwed on well. However, they’re also surprisingly unpainful. To such an extent that they’re essentially useless for me. I like it when it hurts.

Pinchiness: 2 — Grippiness: 5 — Viciousness: 1

Pierced Nipple Chain – $14.50

While my nipples are not pierced (alas), I got these because the Stockroom description said, “After testing, we also found that they work well as nipple clamps.” My initial impression was not good and I almost chucked them out as they seemed rather weak and unimpressive. However, given a good fat chunk of nipple flesh to bite onto, I found they’re anything but. In reality, they’re intese little fuckers which stay on well even though they’re nothing but bare metal. The chain is nice and heavy so you know when you have them on. They can be pulled off with enough effort which can be fun, too.

Pinchiness: 3 — Grippiness: 2.5 — Viciousness: 3

Chrome Mini-Clothespins – $9.00 a pair

We got these very early on in our acquisition of kinky toys but don’t often use them anymore. One of them fell apart when the two metal halves came out of the spring (and getting them back in was a bitch). In use, they’re tricky to get on properly and tend to slip off after a little while since they’re very slick. The biggest issue I have with them, though, is the fact that one spring carries considerably more tension than the other meaning one nipple gets pinched much harder than the other. Also, I wish they had a connecting chain for tugging and yanking (turns out, they do make some like that).

Pinchiness: 3 — Grippiness: 1 — Viciousness: 2.5

Japanese Clover Clamps – $26.50

The first really satisfying clamps we got, these things are classics. They grip really well thanks to the little nibs on their white rubbery pads. They have a nice heft and a good chain to yank and pull around with. Their large size makes them exceptionally well-suited to twisting. Plus, they look really cool in black. It’s very hard to go wrong with these.

Pinchiness: 4 — Grippiness: 4 — Viciousness: 4

Alligator Nipple Clamps – $16.50

Of all the clips, these are the ones that grip the best. Underneath the vinyl coating on their tips is a set of pointy-toothed aligator jaws which, if used unprotected, would undoubtedly sever the tips of my nipples. With the vinyl coating, however, these little bastards hold on like rabid badgers. With a good mouthful of pink meat, they resist coming off even while being pulled with much force. In addition, they bite pretty hard. Originally, they had some little screw-in things to keep them from clamping down fully, but I chucked those pretty quickly. Of all the clamps in this post, these are probably the best combination of bite, grip, and price.

Pinchiness: 4 — Grippiness: 5 — Viciousness: 3

Pervertable clips from some cargo shorts I got from Old Navy several years ago – Priceless

These are bad-ass motherfuckers. They originally came off three pairs of shorts I bought from Old Navy maybe eight years ago. Each pair had two clamps attached to one another by a striped shoestring, one end clipped to a belt loop and the other end…well, I can’t remember. Honestly, I have no idea what they were supposed to be used for. I took them off the shorts and stuck them in a drawer and forgot about them. Then, one day several years ago, I rediscovered them and realized what they could represent. This was before I was “out” as kinky, so I experimented with them in private. Their bite is so intense, I could never keep them on for more than ten or twenty seconds, but as I’ve expanded my repertoire of pain (and my overall horniness levels), I’ve found I can sometimes leave them on for long periods. But fuck, do they hurt. Even just moving them around at bit while they’re biting can be an eye-wateringly painful experience. Usually, they leave my nipple aching for at least 24 hours. In short, I love them.

As you can see in the detail image, their pinchy ends are off-set and fit into each other so that the entrapped meat is twisted in an especially tortuous way. In addition, their edges are rough and sharpish. Their bite is so hard and nasty that their overly enthusiastic use will actually cause scabs to be formed on my nipples in the days following. They don’t cause me to bleed, but they do break the skin enough that it has to heal afterward. Here’s a detail of one of the other clip images where, if you look real hard (or just where the little red arrows are pointing), you can see the scabs left over from their use almost a week ago. Not for the faint of heart.

Their upside is that they’re wickedly horrible. Their downside is…that they’re wickedly horrible. They are so intense that I really, really have to be in the mood to get any enjoyment out of them. Also, they’re getting kind of old now and I’ve found that the spring mechanisms in a few are getting unreliable. Two of them stick so that they don’t bite as hard as they used to which makes them slip off relatively easily when pulled. I’ve replaced the shoestring in one set with a black chain and another set I keep free for maximum flexibility (sometimes, when I’m feeling especially wicked, I can get two on each nipple). The third set is still like they were when I got them and, since I use them the least, are in the best shape of the bunch. Bottom line is these are absolutely fantastic implements of torture, but you couldn’t buy them if you wanted to any more than I could and that’s a shame.

Pinchiness: 5 — Grippiness: 5 — Viciousness: 5+

So you might think six sets of nipple tormenting devices would be enough. But no. I’m always on the lookout for more. If there’s a type I’ve not covered in this post that you have experience with, please leave details in the comments. I’d love to hear how my readers are abusing their tender pink spots.

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Pardon

I made Belle come last night. No, that wasn’t her fourth orgasm since she decided my punishment for willfully ejaculating by myself in a hotel room, it was the first.

I admit that, in those times in which I was feeling especially needy (mostly while in bed with her and naked), I lobbied heavily for the lifting of the punishment, but in other more level-headed times (say, in the middle of the day while fully clothed and across the room from her) I felt guilty for doing so. I do respect the concept of her being able to make me pay for having an orgasm without her permission, but it was playing out kinda how I thought it would. She just didn’t seem interested in giving them to herself, even if I was right there next to her. I knew it, she knew it. So, last night, my fingers and Pink got her off.

And no, I really don’t want to feel like I got away with something, though I do. Perhaps that was the wrong form of punishment. I honestly do hope she comes up with something else.

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Spam favorites

Here’s a collection of recently received spam comments that I think deserve credit for being at least mildly entertaining.

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Nothing like a protracted chuckle, is there? Especially one over anal toys. Oh, yeah. Good times.

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