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Posts tagged ‘kink’

Mar 10

10 Comments

#techsex

Today at SXSW I attended a panel discussion called “Old Tech, New Tech, Same Old Sex?” (hashtag #techsex) and, even though the word sex was right there in the title, it wasn’t very well attended. Which is too bad, because it was fantastic. Essentially, the panel discussed how “a mix of old and new technologies lead us to ever-increasing ways to connect, share, learn, enjoy” our sexualities online. There was a lot covered, but a few bits have stuck with me as I went about my day.

The first was the double-edgeness of how the internet allows us to see the entirely of possible human sex and sexuality for perhaps the first time in history. Every kind of permutation, from the most straightforward and mundane and obvious to the most convoluted and extreme and nuanced, are laid out for anyone with a smartphone to consume. If you’re like me, this can mean a dramatic expansion of your sexual horizons. Providing form to the amorphous urges and desires I’ve had for as long as my little gonads produced hormones. This is, undeniably I think, a Good Thing. I mean, were I to have been born 30 or 40 years earlier, I’m not sure how I’d have ever found out as much about myself as the web showed me was possible. I am not alone.

Of course, the opposite side of that is young people can find all the same stuff I can. Kids, I’m talking about. And depending on what part of the internet’s sex district they find themselves, they can get a very skewed perception of what sex between adults is like. Since our culture’s so fucked uptight about sex, this may be the only significant sexual education a lot of kids get. This resonates with me especially since I have a fourteen-year-old son who I know for a fact has set out on his own nascent relationship with porn. And now I’m in the position of being the sex blogger who can wax poetically (or, at least, at length) on every kind of thing in his own head but can’t figure out the best vector to take in explaining to his kid what porn is and is not. And then to redirect him towards real resources (like Scarlet Teen or maybe even Dan Savage).

The second thing that’s stuck with me is an extension of the above, I guess. How by putting our sex lives and sexuality out into the world (like I do here) helps destigmatize and perhaps even legitimize alternative deviations from the norm. Think of all the hundreds of thousands (millions, even – tens of millions?) of sex blogs out there now. Think about how the better ones (those who are more than just a thin shell of titillation and provide some insight into their author’s lives) can put a real faces on what could otherwise be stereotyped as prurient deviance. One of the tweeters in the session audience went to far as to say all this helps advance revolution. I’m not sure I’m personally interested in revolution (at least, not yet), but I get his point.

I suppose we lesser mortals separate ourselves from us the revolutionaries by the use of our pseudonymous identities. Real revolutionaries use their names. I’m a cowardly little rabbit. No, really. Another person in the audience, seeing me tweet about the session, recognized me though the blog. She readily identified herself in a friendly way and I…did nothing but compliment her backpack (which was, admittedly, pretty cool). I should have at least said hi when it was over, but passing through the membrane of this world and the one I walk around in is harder than perhaps it should be (overly-often shared pictures of my junk aside). After the fact, one of the panelists also reached out via the Twitter to say hey and let me know she’s read the blog.

It’s very, very weird to be known in such a public place (if even to a handful of people) for such a public display of anonymity. It’s not something I’ve ever experienced and it leaves me somewhat uncomfortable. Not that these nice people have made contact, but that it’s so unexpectedly left me nervous and weirded out. And for what? I’m not ashamed of how I live or what I’ve shared here. Not in the slightest. But I am, ultimately, deeply introverted. And that’s not something I can just skip over lightly. So, in the end, it wasn’t the confidently sexy young woman saying she liked this blog that was surprising, I guess, but me walking up to her and saying hi back would have been significantly surprising. At least for rabbit like me.

That’s quite enough of that. Suffice it to say, the panel was fantastic and my only regret was they couldn’t keep talking for another hour.

Nov 3

5 Comments

Thirty minutes of freedom

Last Sunday was a bit more than advertised. Belle did let me out and she did, in fact, fuck me. Also, I once again kept it together and resisted coming. Relatively speaking, I wasn’t even close. This brings my streak to five for the number of times Belle’s been able to get off on the penis without me ruining everything with an orgasm. Again, I thought about politics, but with baseball over and the election about to mercifully come to an end, I’m going to have to find another unsexy thing to keep my mind distracted from the feeling of her pussy sliding back and forth over the aching, neglected shaft.

She also let me have a go at her once she was through glowing and stuff. Her pussy felt incredibly hot and sensuous and I was once again sweating out my desire to come in her. Cold, damp sweat. I ended up leaking copiously, but no orgasm. Belle told me the ride was coming to an end and I withdrew about 80% and just moved the head back and forth feeling her labia playing over the overly sensitive glans. Holy fuck, you know? I’m almost shuddering now just typing these words…

In any event, the Looker 02 came off immediately prior to the fucking and the Steelheart Short went over the still-sticky meat immediately after. I never left the bed unlocked. Couldn’t have been more than thirty minutes of freedom, but they were action-packed.

Later that day, after her parents had been over for dinner, she told me in the kitchen that she wanted to go at it again. I pointed out the kids were still up and she rejoined that our bedroom had a door with a lock. With memories of coronal ridges bumping past labial folds dancing in my mind, we retired to the bedroom and locked said door.

I quickly discovered that the coronal ridge was out of luck. The device wasn’t coming off again. We both got naked (except for the steel) and I took up my position next to her, sucking and pinching her nipples and playing with her pussy. Outside the door, the dog was going to town on a squeaky toy.

“He’s excited for us,” Belle said.

“Errhurmph,” I said, mouth full of tit.

“Well, he’s excited for me, anyway.”

“Ermph,” I replied.

I have a remarkably well-tuned sense of how her orgasms develop now and I could tell things weren’t coming along as they should. She brought out Pink, her favorite vibrator, and I used that instead of my fingers. Still, no dice. She took it out of my hand and benched me from below-the-belt action so I redoubled my attention to her nipples. Eventually, she came, but it was a different kind of orgasm. Longer and broader as opposed to a sharp crescendo  Belle’s just one of those girls who has a hard time with the multiple orgasm thing. More like a guy that way, actually.

Anyway, since then I’ve been back in the Steelheart after quite a lot of time in the Looker. It’s taken me all week to readjust at night. The nocturnal erections are a lot more intense in the SH-S with its smaller ring and tighter gap. Given a few more days, I’ll probably be sleeping through most of it, but it’s a very different experience from both the Looker and the Jail Bird (both with slightly larger rings).

It’s now been just over four months since my last orgasm. That’s clearly record territory. Belle mentioned last night that I’m just two months away from my next chance to have one and I suppose I should be looking forward to that, but I’m ambivalent. If I can go six months, I can go for the rest of my life, right?

Right?

Aug 6

9 Comments

The last thing I’ll ever post about “Fifty Shades of Grey,” I swear to god

A reader calling themselves Elle left this comment and I think it’s exactly what I was trying to say with my original post:

Of course Fifty Shades isn’t high brow literature. It’s not the best written, and there are surely faults. I found some. But then, I rarely read a book and get to the end and say “Everything about this was perfect!” My biggest disappointment from Fifty was that the kinkster had to have a traumatic background. Not the best message to send to the masses, but overall – the book has accomplished good things. In my opinion.

In my life personally? I recommended it to my best friends. And you know what? They loved it. Told me they liked their sex a little rougher than they’d ever hinted to me before. They even said, quite salaciously, *they liked to be spanked*. Wide-eyed but delighted by this information, I got brave and took the plunge. I told them I was kinky. That’s right! I told my best friends I was kinky, and it was all facilitated by this book. So maybe the way Fifty was written did some harm to the BDSM community’s image. But it surely also did a bit of good, even if we’d rather it were better.

Walking through Target this morning on a quest for children’s cough and cold elixir, I saw the entire series of books massed out at the end of a checkout aisle between packages of Oreos and The Avengers Blu-Ray preorder cards. I’m telling you, when books about kinky sex (even objectively bad ones) penetrate the popular culture to the level of blockbuster comic book movies and fucking Oreo cookies, it is a good thing.

Aug 1

8 Comments

Fifty shades of get over it

Over on The Facebook, I follow a technology website called The Verge. Great site. Probably one of the best tech sites on the web. This morning, they posted a link to an article about how Fifty Shades of Grey has become the top-selling series of books in the United Kingdom, surpassing the seven Harry Potter books. Along with the link, they added…

The correlation between popularity and quality grows ever weaker

Before I go any further, what correlation between quality and popularity?! It seems more often the case that things that are popular and of high quality are a happy accident than the norm. But I digress.

The article itself just covers the facts of the situation, but the comments are enlightening.

How sad…

I have no words to describe the sadness that I am feeling because of this.

Human kind has deteriorated.

I just died a little inside.

Etcetera, etcetera. It reminds me of the comments from the recent article on Karezza Tom pointed out. Discouraging.

Now, I haven’t read Fifty Shades because M/f dom/sub stuff just doesn’t do much for me. I’m more a little M kinda guy, after all. But I can’t think of anything better for those of us espousing non-traditional sexuality than this book. I mean, I’ve got boring, middle-aged hausfrau friends living in Connecticut reading this in their book clubs. Like, out in the open. And talking about it. With their friends. As a culture, we’re so hung up in our own fucking undies over sex that any popular work that helps thaw our icy Kegels has to be a good thing, high literature or not.

Four millions copies of these books have been sold in the UK alone since March. Imagine how many thousands of people may have been inspired by the story to open up to themselves and their partners about their own kinks. Something made somewhat more easy, I assume, since the work has been embraced by the popular culture. And if it leads to further interest in non-traditional erotic literature (like the works of Anne Rampling/Rice, for example), even better.

Fifty Shades makes being weird slightly less weird, so I don’t give a shit what it means to the Boy Who Lived. He defeated Voldemort, after all. He’ll get over it.

Jul 26

4 Comments

Mailbag

Matt Cook hasn’t had an orgasm in seven months, and he hopes never to intentionally have one again.

Now that’s an opening line. Certainly one that will grab my attention. It comes (ahem) from an article found by the inimitable Tom Allen in which the practice of Karezza is described. Kareeza, also know as “coitus reservatus”, is described by Wikipedia as “a form of sexual intercourse in which the penetrative partner does not attempt to ejaculate within the receptive partner, but instead attempts to remain at the plateau phase of intercourse for as long as possible avoiding the seminal emission.”

The article on Matt Cook wasn’t the first time I’d heard of Karezza, though. I received the following from reader Athena an embarrassingly long time ago:

I would be very appreciative to read a mans view, in particular your view regarding “Coitus Reservatus” or aka Karezza. I’m requesting this because you’re very gifted at expressing yourself in a manner that is easily understandable for your Female readers.

I want to approach the topic with my boyfriend, as I’ve been researching the practice lately. But finding contemporary and relative articles has been a challenge.

Would you agree that Karezza can be, for some the next step in the progression of chastity within a relationship?

I’m not sure I’d compare Karezza to enforced male chastity for a couple of reasons. First, chastity is, as we practice it, more than incidentally about power exchange. It’s a form of BDSM. Karezza, as I understand it, has no element of power exchange whatsoever. The man willingly controls his orgasm to promote the “deepest human affection.” Secondly, it sounds is if there is regular penetration by the man (and some kind of preternatural ability to avoid orgasm on his part). In my experience, the penis rarely gets wet, especially for recreational fucking without possibility of orgasm (alas). Of course, the end product of both is similar. The girl comes and the guy doesn’t. The resulting feelings and attitude of the man are likely very similar, but the getting there is all different.

But that doesn’t mean I disagree with you that it (or some form of it) could be a “next step in the progression of chastity within a relationship” for some. Honestly, I’ve felt for a while now that I was doing this chastity thing all wrong. I want to be denied. I do not want to come. Oh, I do, from time to time, get the urge and feel the need and she does let me, but immediately afterward I invariably wish I hadn’t. Even as I’m building toward the orgasm, in the back of my head I’m hoping she won’t let me. In all the hawt chastity porn, the man is desperate for orgasm all the time and his evil wife is constantly dangling the possibility out there but rarely letting him have it. That’s not me. I want to be denied and denied and denied. I’ve felt this way for a long time and, I recall, when I first said on this blog that I didn’t like having an orgasm as much as not having one, some readers suggested I was Doing It Wrong. Perhaps my denial has led me to a place not unlike where practitioners of coitus reservatus find themselves. Like Matt, I’d be happy if Belle told me I would never intentionally come again.

So yeah, the idea of coitus reservatus does appeal to me, but the lack of any kind of domination or submission doesn’t. I am where Matt Cook is, mostly. But I still want the D/s, bondage, and masochism. I’m a kinky bastard, after all.

Anonymous said:

After few months with playing with CB-6000 and some doubts, my wife came to conclusion, that she like benefits of using chastity device (short term, not permanent), but not the device itself. Reason – tube-like shape and imagination of everything inside swollen, sweaty, and without much ventilation, works for her rather as a turn off. We looked for some cage-like devices, but I still don’t get it – how to take it off with full erection, while most of them (all?) has closed, one-piece rings? I know the ordinary method (one potato, two potato, weenie to get in, and backwards to take it off), but HOW, when my precious member, when full erected, is pointing straight at my face, when I look at him? is it even possible to take off the ring with an erection?

If the ring is fitted correctly, you can’t get it off when you’re hard. Impossible. But, (again) if it’s fitted correctly, you probably don’t really need to. At least that’s my experience. The A-ring of the Steelheart, when left on, is like an almost but not quite too tight cockring. It has the benefit of making the penis’ erection a tad larger and it gives me a bit more staying power (plus, it’s kinda uncomfortable which pushes my masochism buttons). I’m not sure that a device without the integrated lock would work as well, though. My Jail Bird has a post sticking out for the lock to engage the cage and, while we’ve never tried it, it’s likely that the post would poke Belle.

My advice: Figure out a way to get the ring off before you’re too hard and/or make a fun little game of defeating the erection so the ring can come off (bag of ice water on the cock, for instance).

Beth said:

I’ve never commented but I’ve enjoyed reading your blog immensely for the last year or two. I was hoping I could get a piece of advice. I’m a lady in a 5+ year relationship with a handsome gentleman- I’d say he’s a switch/sub and I’m a sub/switch. We’ve been doing light BDSM play for 2-3 years now but in a couple of weeks we’ve decided to try a 24 hour power exchange since it’ll be the first time we’ll see each other in 3 months (!). I’ll be domming but as we’ve never done anything like this for more than an hour or 2 I figured I’d ask if you had any particular “care and keeping” advice.

From our earlier play I know some of the standard considerations (plenty of conversations ahead of time, sit down in an uncharged situation before to revisit soft/hard limits, yellow/red safeword system, have quick access necessary safety equipment (trauma shears for rope play, etc), plenty of downtime afterward to process and recharge and snuggle) but a scenario of this length is new territory for both of us and I imagine there are things I haven’t thought of. Should I try to break scene every few hours to check in or is that too disruptive to the “subspace”? We’re both very much looking forward to this and I just want to make sure it goes as smoothly as is reasonable to expect.

Beth, to me it sounds like you’re doing everything right. All that communication up front is so critical and it sounds like you’ve done it in spades. With regard to breaking the scene, if I were in his position and had the requisite safewords, etc., I wouldn’t want you too. The more time spent deeply in the subspace, the better.

Your handsome gentleman is lucky to have such a thoughtful and considerate top.

John said:

Recently got in to chastity with my partner. Actually, he complained about my spanking the monkey too much and sort of took matters into his own hands. I am currently locked in a Bon4. Hoping for a jailbird or steel heart soon. I had reservations at first, but have since found it fucking awesome to hold back. The longest time so far is 5 days. He teases me mercilessly while i am locked up. We had to do some experimentation with different ring sizes, lubes, underware, etc., but thanks to the advise on your blog, things have improved significantly. Just wanted to say thanks for the awesome blog, and keep up the good work.

Have I mentioned how hot I find the idea of gay male chastity? Sweet Jesus. I’m glad things are going well for you guys, John. Send pictures. Really.

I apologize to those who sent in feedback. It took me far too long to get to it all this time around.

Apr 19

4 Comments

Locked plugged pinched

As I mentioned, I’ve locked myself up in anticipation of Belle’s return next week from her international business trip which will also mark the return of our D/s dynamic. As I also mentioned, I’m pretty fucking worked up. It’s been something like a week and a half since my last orgasm and while normally this would be a highly frothy period anyway, the fact that my body got used to not carrying any excess hormones for a while can’t be helping.

Last night, after all the offspring where sequestered for the evening, I had every intention of going to bed as I was tired. The intentions evaporated, though, when I spent a few minutes curating The Portfolio (and it’s little brother). Tumblr led to Literotica and it’s wonderfully implemented story tags where you can mix and match perversions to your heart’s content. Many words were read. That led me to bring out the njoy Pure Plug 2.o and my six pinchy things.

Of the pinchy things, I chose the two most vicious: the alligator clips and the pervertable Old Navy clips. It was one of those nights where there was no such thing as too much pain and suffering. Starting with the alligators affixed to the very end of my nips, I graduated to the badass Old Navy clips and then to both. At the same time. In fact, the gators and two different sets of the Old Navy clips. That’s three clips simultaneously chewing on my nipples. Nipples are funny old things in that they’re so incredibly sensitive yet can stand up to a withering amount of abuse. In general, my nipples are a little larger and bit chubbier than average so there’s plenty of surface upon which to affix nasty biting things. The pain was intense and today they’re puffier than usual and hurt even when I walk (but still pink and cheerful looking). Even so, I’m constantly reaching unto my hoody when people aren’t looking and pinching them through my t-shirt. I’m quite positive I’ll be ruining them again tonight.

As for the plug, I don’t recall ever mentioning the Pure Plug 2.0 here before. It’s a wonderfully dense slug of steel with a circumference of almost 14 cm (which sounds a lot worse than it is). I adore this thing. I used it last night because I wanted to feel stuffed with the 1 1/3 pounds of metal and didn’t have the energy for anything more strenuous. Getting the thing in is harder than even Stryker’s Beast since its 2″ diameter, while shaped for insertion, is totally unforgiving. A dildo has some give. Steel does not. There’s always a half-second of feeling like I’m about to rip open as it goes in, but once it settles into place I quite often drip from the pressure on my prostate.

So there I was, dick locked, ass plugged and nipples fiercely pinched while I read all sorts of perverted things on the internet. I was out of my mind on the hormones but eventually found myself unable to keep my eyes open and I had to stop. I wistfully unclamped the throbbing pink circles of tender flesh and put their tormentors back in a black velveteen bag but decided to leave the Pure Plug where it was.

As even a casual reader of this blog knows, I really like it up the ass. I love the sensation of being penetrated and stuffed and especially like how the heavy steel of the Pure Plug shifts around inside me as I move. If I could, I’d want to be plugged all the time (sometimes) so I indulged my fantasy a bit last night. I did fall asleep even with the distraction. I woke up a few times and was reminded of the invader immediately. Reaching around and feeling where the hot steel disappeared into me brought me out of my sleep quickly, but I managed to leave it in place all night. The only downside of the Pure Plug is it’s base which has an oval ring (presumably to make handling easier) with somewhat sharp edges. After a few hours, those edges start to bite into the cheeks pressing against them.

Belle doesn’t get home for another week yet. I really want her. I want to press my face into her snatch and feel her come against my mouth. I want to smell her and suck on her tits and feel her bite my neck and squeeze my nuts. While I wait for that, though, I’ll get by with the self-abuse.

Mar 14

9 Comments

Mailbag

Catching up on some mailbag items…

Thanks for a great website.  I am about to start a long time in a CB-6000 with PA cable on Thursday.

I do have an odd question for you….

I need to wear an athletic cup for sparing in martial arts.  I know I can get the cup over the device but I suspect if I actually get kicked, the device and cup will work together to rack my balls badly.  Any advice on this?  (I wear the cup to prevent damage to my balls… I can handle some pain… I THINK!)

I know for a fact that one can wear these devices during physical activities, but I wouldn’t wear one while participating in a contact sport. A device ties all the squishy bits together in a way they weren’t designed so that as one part moves in one direction during a hit and another part might move in an opposite direction, they’re forced to move together and that might be bad. Especially if you’ve got a cable running through the whole set up that fixes the end of your penis in place with a ring that’s been punched through your urethra. Man. I get creeped out just thinking about it.

The cup might offer some measure of protection, I suppose, but if it’s like ones I’ve worn there won’t be much room in it for all the extra plastic. If it were me, I’d figure out a way to take it off while kicking and being kicked.

I have recently found your blog about male chastity, actually, I have recently found out about male chastity.  I have been looking for a way to spice up my marriage a little.  I have been married to a great wife for 14 years now, 3 kids and the spice is not what it used to be.  We are both just starting to get back into wanting sex more.  Although, she likes missionary only.

I am researching this as much as I can and like to talk with normal people that are doing this and what I can learn from them. Bringing this up to her and getting her to go along with this will be difficult, so wondering if you have any suggestions.

If you’re asking about how to approach her, I’m not a very good resource. I don’t really have a strategy because when I first found out about enforced chastity I immediately shared it with Belle and we were on our way. We were in a particular place in our relationship where I felt comfortable sharing this interest with her. The best advice I have would be to explain that normal people really do do this. Really. Yes, it’s kinky, but not like taped up hamsters. It’s pretty tame, actually.

If you’re looking for things to share with her, I more or less think Sarah Jameson’s stuff is pretty good. That’s not a bad place to start. She puts things in a way that might appeal to the average woman and, as long as you can see through her submissive male bigotry, is reasonably practical. Obviously, I think the stuff Tom’s written is another great resource. Belle in particular has appreciated his point of view. Don’t forget Dev, either! I also think the gang over at the Chastity Forums are pretty levelheaded. That’s another good place for you to go as you figure out a strategy on how to move forward with your wife. Finally, I’m asking others to add their two bits and/or links in the comments. I know there are smart people reading this who could help.

Good luck!

I read your blog because you are an honest writer.  You don’t pull punches or shy away from topics that um, well might embarrass others.  However, having said that, you may not want to tackle the subject I am about so ask you to write about, because it’s so full of emotional, political, and even religious focus.  The subject is homosexuality versus bisexuality. I have commented before that I find the idea of gay male sex a real turn on, but I have never felt a “man crush” for any man. Conversely, I have had many a crush on woman that don’t physically turn me on.

I also am one of the many guys that finds lesbian sex a huge turn on, but other then the fact that its usually two very attractive woman doing things that I like to do with a woman, I don’t know why it turns me on.  Just watching two beautiful women kiss drives me crazy.  And although two guys can talk about lesbian sex with zero social stigma, you rarely hear two guys talk about gay male sex.  Kind of a double standard there, I think.

So, that double standard got me to thinking that bi-sexuality might not have the “falling in love crush” attached to it, but rather is simply physical pleasure derived from both the physical act and the “taboo” nature of the act. (not unlike anal sex for some). The hardcore homosexual organizations talk about bisexuals as a cop out or as an out right denial of sexual identity.  And mostly they take this position for political reasons.  They seem to be saying “We’ve worked so hard to get our rights established in the law, we don’t want any of you fence sitters screwing it up, come out or shut up.”  That’s why I think that bisexuals get this horrible rap of being confused or closet homosexuals. I call bullshit on that. I’m not confused, I like the same kind of sex that homosexuals do.  I just don’t feel like I could fall in love with someone and have a “pair bonded” relationship with them.  Thank god there is strap-on sex…the closes thing I’ll ever get to gay male sex!

Help me explain this better can you?

I spent many years of my life essentially paralyzed by my seemingly contradictory impulses with regard to sex. I kept trying to find a paradigm I could fit myself into and it just wasn’t there. By the time I decided to stop obsessing and get on with things, I was approaching thirty. I lost most of my twenties, sexually speaking. It is a waste of fucking time.

Fact is, people are going to feel how they’re going to feel. Kinsey nailed it back in the Forties with his scale. Human sexuality is a fluid continuum that simply cannot be diced into orderly blocks to suit anyone’s moral preferences. We are all born this way, to one degree or another, as are many other animals. There is no right answer and its society’s problem that this isn’t recognized and accepted, not ours.

I’ve recently started reading a book called Straight: The Surprisingly Short History of Heterosexuality. Here’s a snippet from the Amazon description:

Like the typewriter and the light bulb, the heterosexual was invented in the 1860s and swiftly and permanently transformed Western culture. The idea of “the heterosexual” was unprecedented. After all, men and women had been having sex, marrying, building families, and sometimes even falling in love for millennia without having any special name for their emotions or acts. Yet, within half a century, “heterosexual” had become a byword for “normal,” enshrined in law, medicine, psychiatry, and the media as a new gold standard for human experience.

I recommend you check it out! It’s an eye-opener.

The following came from a comment to another post.

This is from http://chastewench.blogspot.com/ and has nothing to do with your recent post, but it does describe my exact situation and I hate it! Any suggestions you might have that would smooth out the ups and downs?

Rollercoster

Various blogs suggest that the way to motivate a man is to keep him desperate. It’s so scarily true.

A few days of tease and denial and I’m ready to do anything the Empress of my cock says. Yet once I’m sated it’s difficult to relate to why I was so malleable and so desperate to be dominated. It’s like looking at another person, one you don’t quite get, and finding yourself a little shocked by their antics. Thinking ‘was that really me?’

The peculiar thing is the more I’m denied, and the nastier she is, the more I crave submission, discipline, humiliation, abuse, pain. The desire to be dominated builds and builds. The constant forfeit of control and state of excitement is so addictive. Crazy as it sounds it’s almost as if the more she denies me the more a part of me wants it to continue. The more I sink into submission.

Then she lets me cum and then buzz is gone. I’m left bemused, shaking my head at my own behaviour. Having to remind myself that I signed a contract, try to rationalise putting the chastity belt back on, when I no longer really want to be locked away, I’m no longer in the mood. Then with a snap of the lock the ride starts all over again.

So, so familiar with that particular ride, as would be anyone who’s found themselves locked up for more than a single play session. It gets to the question of what is a true submissive. If one only feels that way after being denied (or feels it much more strongly), then is that person a real sub? Honestly, I leave that question to others to decide. For Chaste Wench and for me and for many others (maybe even you), we like that eventual feeling of profound submission. The part where you can’t get enough of whatever she’s dishing out. As far as I’m concerned, you need at least a seed of submission in you somewhere for it to grow, but really, if it feels good, who cares?.

The cratering of desire for all this chastity play after orgasm can’t be helped (assuming it’s a pleasurable orgasm). It’s chemical. Once you come and the brain releases its happy juice into your bloodstream, it snuffs out the other chemicals that drive the need to be locked and disciplined and abused. There really is no way around it, other than either always ruining the guy’s orgasm or never ever letting him have another (which is rife with its own set of issues). After the spurt, you feel kind of embarrassed for ever wanting to wear the thing in the first place and wonder what all the hubbub was about. If you have a blog like this one, you go back and read things that, even though you wrote them, you have a hard time feeling.

Personally, my advice would be to enjoy the ride. When it’s up, it’s the best fucking thing in the word (or at least feels that way). When it’s down, you simply need to take solace in the fact that, given time and a secure device, all will feel right in the world eventually. For me, assuming it’s just one orgasm, that’s about 2-3 days. Hardly any time at all!

Oct 11

4 Comments

Clarification

Celtic Queen, in response to my last post, left the following comment:

Thumper, this sounds like a trite question (it isn’t meant to be) but are you happier as a person now?

Put another way, did control of your sex make you unhappy?

Then Chaz added…

You state that your OK with it. I think those that say you are trained might offer congratulations, yet I get more a sense of resigned acceptance from this post. It almost has a BCWYWF feel to it. I would echo CQ’s comment. Are you happy? You say you have changed, I would like to ask is it change for the better? Are you a better husband lover friend father? “BROKEN” as a title I would take to mean your will, but could it refer to something that needs to be fixed?

As I started to formulate a reply, I realized I might need a little more room, so here we are.

Starting at the end and with the title “Broken,” that was just a play on words. I used the “broken horse” metaphor in the post to describe how I was feeling about my sexual urges and it was a reference to that. Also, as I alluded to in the post, “broken” might have been how I would have described those feelings at an earlier stage in our dynamic. I wasn’t trying to say I was broken or my sex drive was (hell no!) or we were or anything ominous like that.

With regard to resigned acceptance, I guess that’s not an inaccurate description. What other option do I have? I could rail against my confinement and the generally low level of sexual activity we’ve had lately, but to what end? To put extra pressure on her? To make her feel guilty? To suggest I want out of the device and from under the dynamic? I don’t want any of those things. Hell yes I want more sex, but the timing wasn’t right and no matter how horny or frothed up I get, there’s nothing I can do about it. So yes, resigned acceptance. Acceptance that being the object of long-term enforced chastity isn’t always a crazy pornfest type of existence. Sometimes, things don’t work out how you’d like them to. You might be able to characterize resigned acceptance as negative, but you might just as well call it a healthy frame of mind and more productive than moaning and pissing about my grievances.

With regard to the “be careful what you wish for” vibe, yeah, totally, I was going for that. I can remember how incredibly turned-on the idea of chastity made me even when I was actually in that kind of relationship. I can remember how surreally horny I used to get and hopped up on hormones I’d be. This, though, is perhaps what the long tail of chastity looks like. Once your body adjusts and the new device smell goes away, you have to figure out a way to live with it. Be careful because sometimes it’s not all that hot. Sometimes, it’s freaking boring.

Am I a better “husband lover friend father”? I would really have to let Belle answer that, but I think I am a better husband. I think I was already a pretty good lover, though now I’m not able to use the penis on her in the way I know she likes. I was already very attentive in bed. I’d say that’s a push. Better friend? No, we’ve always been good friends. Better father? I’m not sure any of this has impacted that aspect of my life much at all.

Now, am I happy? That’s a bit trickier.

CQ asked, “Did control of your sex make you unhappy?” In a way, yes, because control of my sex led me to cheat on Belle. But, larger than that, control over my sex also led me away from her as it was easier and more convenient to pleasure myself than to seek that pleasure from her. I’m not making that “masturbation addiction” argument as I think it’s crap, but had I been able to jack off at will over the past few weeks, I wouldn’t be at all drawn to Belle for my needs. And isn’t that pretty much the entire point of enforced chastity? To bring a couple together so they can enjoy sexual intimacy only with each other and not by themselves? That morning we finally had sex was fantastic even though I was fucking horny as hell and left literally dripping with desire afterward.

No, I won’t say control over my sex left me unhappy, but having her control my sex does make me happier more often than not. Nothing in this world in perfect. There are no silver bullets. Living as I do is the same. There are good days, there are bad days. There are fucking amazing days, there are god awful days. In balance, though, I am where I want to be.

So, as a coda to my previous post, I should say having that one sexual session has changed my attitude remarkably. I’m feeling much hornier and more connected to my desires than I was before. Even to the point that holding the device in my hand as I clean it makes me think so much about what it means to have it on that it fills up with chubby penis meat and I can’t flush water through it. I’ll find myself fingering the hard ring under my waistband and, again, the stupid penis will try its best to plump out.

I am denied. My sex is totally controlled. And I am so fucking turned on by that.

Sep 24

3 Comments

Tale of the tape

It’s been a month now since I came in that nice hotel room all by myself and against the rules. Well, not so much against the rules. More like against The Rule™. Belle says I have just one more night of having to sleep with clothes on but at least two more months before she lets me come again. Just this morning, right after she came, in my charmingly squirmy and needy way, I asked he if she was craving the feeling of her husband inside her. She said yes, but that was too bad. I had, after call, come without permission. Then she laughed at me. Ah, love.

There’s really not much else to say around here. Belle was having her period for a while and then I had a very minor medical procedure that nonetheless messed me up for a day due to anesthetic. There’s hasn’t been a lot of action to report. The one thing I can say is that any speculation on the interwebs about long-term chastity having an adverse affect on the size of a man’s erection should cease. There’s one or a couple bloggers who suggest that keeping a guy locked up for a long time shrinks erections once they’re allowed out and, I suppose, there’s a sliver of logic at work in thinking that. In reality, however, it just doesn’t happen.

As I mentioned last week, I was out of the device for a day and a half due to some irritation. During that time, I found myself with a hard penis in my hand (purely for research and reporting purposes, of course – I’m always thinking about my readers) and decided, since it seemed like it was about as hard as it gets, that I’d check to see how things were going. I got the measuring tape and verified that Belle’s cock is every bit the 5 and 5/8s inches it has ever been, even though it spends almost all the time locked inside a very short steel tube.

I’ve said before I thought all this “chastity makes dicks smaller” stuff was wrong, but it’s worth saying again, I suppose. The root of this talk is two-fold, in my opinion. First, even something as small as the Steelheart Short seems relatively gargantuan when compared to the average flaccid penis. I know while I was out how shockingly small Belle’s seemed when it was soft, especially with a 4 GA circular barbell through the end of it, but as I said, it was exactly the same size as always. Free meat always seems amazingly uncomplicated but also much less substantial and put-together somehow. Second, I think at least some men who have come to the point where they’re kept in a device nearly all the time have also found themselves in a place very unlike that of other men. Specifically, their sex life and the satisfaction of their lover very often has little or nothing to do with their penis. It’s relative importance becomes less and the oversized role it plays in their sense of self diminishes. Some of them could start to wish their dicks were less significant because it plays into the nullification kink they might also be getting off on. They start to want a little penis, it feels smaller when it’s out, therefore, chastity makes it so.

No, ma’am. I’m not buying it.

Sep 8

3 Comments

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, they’re 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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