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Posts tagged ‘milking’

May 5

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Whack job

So I’m back out and for pretty much the same reason as last time, though the symptoms aren’t as bad. I woke up Monday morning with an odd twinge on one side where the PA fixing is and a mildly irritated sensation down on the corona. I asked to have the fixing taken out and figured I could deal with the other part, but by nighttime it was approaching the super annoying stage. She let me out (after a brief time of not being able to find the key) and I again saw the same kind of redness around the corona and on the glans as before. I don’t know if this is a new issue or if it’s the same as last time that didn’t properly heal, but whatever, it’s back.

Monday I felt kind of crappy otherwise and fell asleep early (even forgetting to make Belle’s coffee). Last night, though, I was feeling a lot better. The free meat was urging me to make the moves on Belle. These urges don’t feel the same as when I’m locked and know I’m not coming out. First of all, in those cases, I find I don’t usually get really hard until either my face is buried in her pussy or she’s moaning and writhing around. I respond to her and my impetus is to feel her reflected pleasure. But when I’m free, the cock gets hard way earlier in the festivities and my driving motivation shifts subtly. I still want to feel her come, but the cock (an eternal optimist) starts sending up suggestions and dropping little hints. I find myself grinding into Belle and acting much more like a regular guy as opposed to what I really am.

Belle even called me on that last night saying my actions didn’t suggest her pleasure was at the heart of my actions. I guess it’s true. I had a hard, free cock for the first time in a month and really wanted to feel something with it. Call it a moment of weakness, but the cock’s imperative loomed large.

Turns out, Belle didn’t act on the opportunity. She said she was actually turned on by denying herself the chance to fuck me. I have no idea what to do with that or even how it makes me feel. Her denial is, of course, mine and I’m wired to want her to have everything she wants, but if what she wants is to deny herself…it’s an unexpected loop. She did place her hand over the hard meat and I gyrated into her palm, just happy to have that stimulation. I was really hard and really turned on, but shortly, she was pretty much asleep.

As she turned over to go to bed, she said, “Since you did a good job today, Thumper, you can play with yourself.”

I immediately wrapped my hand around the erection and said, “Oh, thank you Belle Fille. Thank you.”

“Of course, you can’t come.”

“No, of course not. Thank you, Belle Fille.”

“Try not to stay up all night,” she added, “and you’re going back in tomorrow.”

I was amazed at how quickly I found myself at the edge of orgasm. I couldn’t stroke the full shaft more than maybe a dozen times before my prostate’s payload was locked and ready to fire. I was able to make rapid short strokes just under the head of the cock for more extended periods, but even then I was on the edge relatively quickly. I didn’t pick up any porn and instead just laid there luxuriating in the sensation of jacking off. It was a chance for all my senses to absorb the moment: my whole body felt the bed gently vibrate at my motion and I could hear the wet smacking sound of the precum-lubed slit. As little beads of semen were squeezed out, I picked them up on the tips of my fingers and placed them on my tongue where I swirled their unique viscosity over the roof of my mouth. When I’m that hot and milking myself so freely, I absolutely adore spunk. My hunger for it knows no bounds. In fact, that’s how I judge whether or not I’ve had an orgasm. I think, “Would I eat that?” If I don’t recoil at the thought, then it wasn’t an actual orgasm.

Anyway, I soon found that I was getting way, way too close to coming to keep going. Even after pausing to let everything ooze back down, I’d be right back at the edge after two or three strokes. Also, the skin on the cock’s shaft just wasn’t used to that kind of abuse. One of the ironies of prolonged device chastity I’ve discovered is that the longer you go inside, the less you’re meat is able to withstand the amount of jacking you want when it’s free. The skin loses the toughness it has when it’s constantly rubbing against the inside of my underwear or my clenched fist.

I eventually wound myself down and discovered I was exhausted. I laid on the very edge of sleep for what seemed like an eternity, but eventually did have a fairly restful night. This morning, I can still see little angry spots on the corona which I’m sure weren’t helped by all the whacking the night before. They don’t bother me, but I’ll leave it up to Belle to decide if I’ll go back in. Honestly, even though I had a nice time with it, I don’t really trust myself to be alone with the cock for an extended period of time. Not in the state I’m in now. I’d rather she put it back where it belongs until my time’s up. It’s just simpler that way. I only hope it decides to go quietly.

Dec 11

4 Comments

I am not dead!

Anyone who’s read this blog for a while knows that extended periods of quiet are signs of alarm. Not unlike a collie bursting into the room and barking like mad (which might lead you to look around for young Timmy, whose absence would then cause you to run off to check the local well/abandoned mine). In any event, I haven’t posted because a) there wasn’t all that much to talk about for a bit, and b) there were, in fact, issues.

The issues are basically the same we’ve gone over before and involve the fact that my internal submission engine requires a certain level of sexual frustration to remain engaged. Belle left for NYC immediately following my last post, which was fine because our sex the night before was outstandingly frustrating. However, for a variety of reasons, we didn’t do much of anything sexual from the time she got back through the next weekend. In addition, she wasn’t giving me any tasks to perform or otherwise flexing her domination over me (and, in fact, did several things I told her I’d be happy to do for her). By the time Sunday night rolled around and she fell asleep while watching the Vikings collapse in front of a national audience, my tank was full of fumes.

I laid there, listening to her sleep, and calmly thought through where we were. I, certainly, was not feeling it. She, it appeared, wasn’t feeling it. Not only that, she didn’t seem to have any desire to bring it back (and, of course, by “it” I mean our D/s dynamic). I wasn’t really mad or full of despair or anything like that. It seemed normal that after a year or so of messing around with this and after a several month period where she left me locked in a chastity device pretty much 24/7 that maybe the one or both of us would get our fill. I really wanted out of the CB6K. Once I felt I wasn’t being denied as much as detained, the bloom was off. Also, since living with the Steelheart for a while and even the chrome CB6K, the old clear CB6K is only barely erotic for me (and her, I think).

So, long story kinda but not really short, I decided to propose a break the next day. By “break” I meant no device, I can come whenever I want, I’m not submissive. At least for a while. Until we both wanted it back. That was the idea, anyway. Turns out, when I said it, she took it pretty hard. What seemed to me a logical extension of how we were living, to her, was a rebuke of sorts. I didn’t mean it that way and didn’t expect her to take it the way she did, but there it was. She gave me the key on Monday morning but was also obviously distressed to do so, so I gave it back to her and said we’d discuss it that night when we had a chance to talk.

Monday night came around and she removed the lock. I was very happy to be facing the prospect of taking it off, but it was still obvious to me that she was unhappy about it. She said it made her feel like she didn’t own the cock anymore. That wasn’t my intention. Really, all I wanted to do was take it out for a spin. Laying there, device still on but unlocked, and against what I wanted, I suggested she put the lock back on. She declined. I offered again. She declined again. Soon, I was practically begging her to put the lock back on. The deliciousness of the situation (me, begging to be relocked even though I really wanted out) was not lost on me and I found myself forcibly holding the device together as it strained against my erection. I finally told her to replace the lock just for the night. Whatever she wanted to do the next day, we’d do. Obviously, the device and the control it represents has developed into a potent symbol between us.

Next day, she let me out. Her period had just started, so she said we’d do the opposite of what’s normal and I’d be unlocked until she was done bleeding. However, we were not going to be on a full break. I was not allowed to come without her permission. I really did want an orgasm (more to the point, I wanted a whole fucking lot of them), but wanting out wasn’t the same as wanting to be out from under her control. Feeling full and unencumbered erections was, I admit, glorious. I also admit to doing what came naturally with those erections, though I never went all the way to the logical conclusion.

Last night, Belle started giving the cock some pleasant attention (mixed in with occasional and random strikes to the balls). It got hard again, really hard, and I wasn’t sure which I wanted more: the nice cock contact or the ball hitting. I rolled over and got onto all fours and she started to milk me like a cow. I closed my eyes and zoned out on the sensation of her hand moving over the hard cock. It didn’t take too long for me to start feeling the tickle of an orgasm bubbling up. I warned her, asking if she wanted me to come. She said I could.

Because I’m me, I didn’t think, “Oh, fuck, YES!” I thought, “Oh shit, not on the sheets!” I cupped my hand under the end of the cock just in time to catch the spurts, but doing so took my eye off the ball just long enough that I wasn’t able to fully enjoy the orgasm. Regardless, I really liked it. I wiped my hand off on my balled-up underwear, curled into her, and almost immediately fell deeply asleep, heavy scent of ejaculate hanging over the bed.

This morning, the PA piercing kinda hurts. She was pretty rough on the cock and the ring flopped around with a lot of force. I’m totally feeling it today, along with the normal post-orgasmic rush of additional horniness. One orgasm never seems to get it all out.

Sep 21

5 Comments

Milking madness

I got a couple questions regarding the milking I mentioned in my last post via comments. I glazed over that more than I wanted to, so I’ll answer them here and expand on the event.

From Dev:

What did the milking feel like?

From esirpus:

When you are giving yourself a prostate milking are you wearing your chastity device? And if so is Belle supervising you?

I’ll take the last two first. No, Belle was not supervising me. She’s instructed me to take care of this by myself. Sure, I’d love for her to be involved, but if she doesn’t want to be, at least she’s letting me do it alone. Anything anal squicks her out, so I can’t count on her involvement going forward. And yes, I was in the device. In my handful of attempts at this in the past, I’ve found having access to the cock makes it somewhat easier, but also more dangerous since a few pulls to help things along can be taken too far. Also, the juices seem to run a bit more easily through erect meat than flaccid.

As to how it felt…this is more complicated. The act of stimulating the prostate feels amazing. Sometimes, so intense it’s hard to say it feels good. I imagine it’s not too dissimilar to what it must feel like to have one’s clitoris stimulated. I have a hard time imagining that prostate massage alone would ever lead me to a real orgasm, but the signals it sends my brain when I’ve found the spot are so closely related to orgasmic pleasure that I find it only sends my frustration and desire for one into the stratosphere. It’s kind of like a car engine that won’t start: turning the key makes a lot of noises that kinda sound like it’ll turn over, but it never quite gets there.

I’ve never really been able to get much out of myself this way. A dribble here, a dribble there. The last time, with the G-force, was pretty much the same. However, I did end up get a feeling like I had to pee. Once I tried, I found the fluid that came out to be thick and milky. And plentiful. Turns out, I was successful but didn’t understand the feeling well enough to know.

With regard to doing it in the future, I think the secret is getting into a sufficiently relaxed state. Since I feel like I’m kind of sneaking around when I do it (though Belle’s been aware of the last few attempts) and I’m usually squirreled away in a bathroom or something, I never let myself totally enjoy the moment. As with anything anal, being relaxed is key. Usually, I’m too tense. Also, there’s a fair but of contortion involved in reaching the spot. Not so much with the G-force with its handle and length, but even then it’s impossible to really lay back and enjoy the sensation since I’m the one creating it.

I’ll probably give it another try in about a week. Any tips in the mean time would be appreciated.

Sep 19

5 Comments

Birthday loot review

The birthday presents arrived as scheduled.

hi yo silver, away!

Belle let me put the new CB6K on right away. I think my total time unencumbered was about 30 seconds (just enough time to clear away those hairs that can’t be shaved when packing). Physically, besides the color change, the two devices are very similar. On the new device, the two pieces that form the top of the A-ring snap together with an audible click, while on the old device, they simply slid into place. Also, the spacer I was wearing (second smallest) was slightly longer in the new device. I dropped down the smallest spacer to compensate. The silver finish is beautiful and highly reflective. Both Belle and I find it much more attractive than the old clear option. The parts other than the tube are all made from black plastic, though to me it doesn’t feel like the same material used in the clear device. The tube does not appear to be black. The best I can tell, it’s clear underneath the silver.

Functionally, the devices are identical. Psychologically, they’re different. In the old clear device, my connection with the cock was never really broken. While I couldn’t touch it, I could always see it in there. Kinda like visiting day at the prison, I’d knock on the plastic and wave while he pressed his face against the window of his cell. In the new device, though, I can’t see it anymore. Instead of looking like a cock in a plastic tube, this new device looks like a silver phallus. Before, it felt like the cock was locked away, but now it almost feels as though the cock’s been replaced by Robocock. Losing that visual connection with the flesh has, in a way, lessened my thinking about it. Out of sight, out of mind, as it where.

In short, I’m very happy with the new device. I’ll be curious to see how it wears over the next year. I’ll be sure to keep you posted.

Also in the box with the chrome CB6K was the Tantus G-force. As I said before, my experience with other prostate simulators (mostly the Aneros) has been disappointing. I find it difficult to experience any significant sensation and find them hard to manipulate. As recently as this past weekend, at Belle’s instruction, I tried to relieve myself of accumulated fluids to no avail. However, the G-force is a tool to be reckoned with. The longer shaft, bulbous head, and easy-to-grip handle allowed me to quickly find and assault the magic gland. Eventually, I produced a respectable amount of thick, milky fluid. The G-force gets a thumbs up in my book.

I also bought a heavy steel ball stretcher, but for obvious reasons, have not had a chance to try it out yet (though I am very much looking forward to doing so). The Japanese nipple clamps had been back-ordered, but arrived before the end of the week. These things are wicked. They grab on very firmly thanks to little rubber pads on the clamps and, due to their design, grab on more tightly as the chain that connects them is pulled. Unlike other objects I’ve had clamped onto my nips, the Japanese clamps hurt from the moment they make contact. I look forward to seeing these used on me by Belle.

I haven’t had this much fun with my birthday presents since I was a little kid.

Mar 8

3 Comments

Marked man

I love it when Belle marks me. Whether it’s by biting me or giving me hickies or raising welts, I like to think her marks are representative of her power, control, and ownership. When she makes them, she’s leaving evidence that the body which displays them is hers, to do with what she likes, even if what she likes is to damage it. Uber hot. I get all light in the chest just writing about it. So you can imagine what I felt when she mentioned she should brand me.

Lucky bunny

Lucky bunny

That’s how I found myself laying over her legs, ass in the air, several hours later getting tickled by the tip of a black Sharpie dancing over my skin. She drew what you see to the right: a little bunny under a horseshoe with “BFR” written over it. “BFR” stands for Belle Fille Ranch which, apparently, is a rabbit ranch. That I can’t see the brand without a mirror makes it that much hotter.

I wasn’t really expecting any serious action what with her not feeling 100% and all, but once her mark was upon me, my passions were running pretty high. I was on all fours, her beneath me, and my right knee strategically placed so as to press my thigh firmly against her pussy, moving subtly as my body shifted. All I did was kiss her face and neck, but my thigh could feel the heat between her legs start to build. Her hand started to carass my inner thighs and I moaned, desperate to feel her touch higher up. She eventually did, lightly stroking my tight, constricted scrotum. Fuck, did I want that cage off. She gripped the tube of the CB6K and started to stroke it as if she was masturbating me, but that only drove my frustration higher since all she was doing was pushing and pulling the entire contraption and torturing my already strecthed balls. I found myself fighting once again the overpowering urge to bite her, to consume her, to gather her up in my arms and crush her. I knew – knew – that there would be no release for me. Instead of fighting it and causing a scene, I let the inevitability of her control wash over and calm me.

When she told me to make her come, I focused everything above her waist. I fingered and licked her nipples and kissed her mouth much longer than I would normally. I knew she wanted me to move south, to give her pussy some attention, but I stayed up north, letting her get just the slightest taste of tease and denial. I did eventually bring my hand down to her pussy, but I merely let it graze ever so lightly over her lips. Her hips squirmed and raised up, trying to make better contact with my fingers, but I kept them just close enough that she knew they were there but too far away to actually feel them. She was moaning freely.

When I finally let my fingers touch her, she was soaked and slicked with arousal. It took about two minutes to bring her to climax. When she started to come, my finger was still lightly resting on her clit. She arched her back and grabbed my hand, pressing me harder into herself, forcing my finger deeper into her pussy. The orgasm shuddered though her and I actually felt three distinct little waves of tightly focused muscle contractions move over the tips of my fingers.

Easliy one of the most intense orgasms I’ve ever given her. Seriously, top three.

—

This morning, she finally released me from the CB6K. Plus, she let me have a ruined orgasm. What a kind and benevolent dictator she is!

This time, we tried the abandoned version of the ruined orgasm (as opposed to the over-stimulated version we tried before). She layed next to me, running her fingers though my chest hair and teasing my nipples and watched while I wrapped my fist around the freely hard cock. Sweet jesus, did that feel good. I had barely started and was already leaking freely.

I jacked off until I felt the first stirrings of the orgasm approaching, then pulled my hand off quickly. A tiny little dribble came out. We decided that wasn’t good enough, so I started in again. It took a lot longer to get back to that place the second time, though I had barely come. Eventually, I felt it again – the tickling, tingling sensation of impending orgasm. I gave myself maybe two or three extra strokes and this time had a fairly respectable hands-free ejaculation, though without the volume I’d have expected. Indeed, it was no orgasm. I felt none of the post-orgasmic high. No refraction. Just a few minutes later, I was still profoundly arroused. I asked her to pinch my nipple just to make sure. Oh yeah, that felt good. I was still horny as hell.

Jan 9

6 Comments

Bad day in chastity

Yesterday was just weird all the way around. I think my issue with the device was that I reassembled it after cleaning using the smallest spacer. Even though it’s only a little smaller than the one up from it (which is what I normally wear), space is so tight down there that the tolerances are small. The ring pain I experienced during the day was, I suspect, mostly the result of not lubricating it properly, but the shorter spacer might have contributed. I know it was a factor in what I faced this morning. I can’t recall ever finding myself so tightly packed into the device as I was then. Just that small difference in tube extension made my normal morning erection (which, as every guy knows, is typically the strongest of the day) push every tiny bit of open space out of the tube. My flesh was extruding out of the side vents and slit like modeling clay and my balls, which are already swollen and sore from frustration, were pulled just that much further from my body and were tight and throbbing. I tried to pee and felt the urine travel down my urethra and then just stop about halfway down the shaft. The end of the penis was pressed shut. This has happened before and usually means I have to flex my kegels to spray it out in tight bursts, but even that proved difficult and it caused the urine to burn upon exiting so I eventually gave up. Probably the most uncomfortable I’ve been in the CB-6000. Odd thing is, it didn’t occur to me to just take it off.

But take it off I did while I was getting ready for work with the thought of moving up to the second largest ring. That’s when I discovered the spacer issue. I was standing there naked (I had just come out of the shower) fiddling with the pieces when I felt something cold on my leg. Looking down, I saw a long, clear, unbroken string of what I assume was precum hanging off the end of the cock and extending to my calf. That kind of oozing has been happening off and on for about the past 24 hours or so. I’ll just be sitting there, shift a little, and feel a small squirt escape into the tube. I wouldn’t have expected this for another week, based on previous experience, but I’m sure my hyper-arousal this week has advanced the schedule a bit.

Finally, I was having a meeting this morning with some of the people who work for me and was doing a lot of getting up and down from my seat to write on the whiteboard. One time, as I sat back down, I left myself turned away from the table with my legs spread and noticed the guy next to me totally checking out the device’s bulge. He played it pretty cool and wasn’t ogling or anything, but I could see where he was looking. As nonchalantly as I could, I turned my legs under the table and dropped my hand to my lap to see how exposed I was. I’m pretty sure he was able to see the ridge of the glans molded into the end of the tube pressing through my pants. I have no idea what he thought of the show, but I can say I’m not too thrilled he got it. I’m not sure what to do about this issue. These are the baggiest pants I have. I guess I’m just going to have to start being more aware of myself or accept the fact that people are going to see it and think…well, I don’t know what they’re going to think. Maybe that I have a very short, fat erection all the time. Eventually, I suppose someone who knows what it is will see it. That’ll be an interesting day.

Belle Fille’s plane departs in about five hours. She’ll be home tomorrow afternoon. I am beyond excited to have her back. My little issue with sleep on Wednesday put me behind in finishing her task since my brain was hardly functioning yesterday evening. I have two more posts to write before I pick her up at the airport. Then, I’ll get to find out her reaction to all my gut-spilling.

Jan 7

4 Comments

Milkshake

Over on FetLife, a member called tiger posted this in a thread about milking:

How do you feel different before and after you’ve been milked? How much is enough? What are the objectives exactly? I’m not even clear on that. Is it just to reduce the volume of stored fluid for the sake of prostatic health? It’s also a very dominant, very beautiful act of removing a man’s control over such a quintessentially male thing. I imagine it would make me feel more submissive. What more is it supposed to do?

I think his questions get to the heart of why this is something I want Belle to do to me. I have milked myself a few times now and understand the physiological impact, but it’s allure is more than that.

Physically, I do feel a lessening of pressure when the semen is released. It’s not a pressure I can even say I was cognizant of before it was gone. Maybe it’s more a feeling of the absence of something. In no way does milking make me less aroused. Quite the contrary. The last time I did it, I couldn’t get enough and was much hornier afterward. And that, even though Belle has never said I couldn’t milk myself, is why I feel I need to ask that it be something we share. I felt like I was receiving too much pleasure from it. No, I wasn’t having an orgasm, but the pleasure I received felt like a violation of the spirit of our arrangement.

Tiger absolutely hits on the psychological trigger for me. It’s the “act of removing a man’s control over such a quintessentially male thing”. To be denied even the fleeting satisfaction of a ruined orgasm. To reduce the passage of semen from my body to an almost clinical act that I have no control over after she’s denied me and teased me and stoked within me such a bonfire of desire. So unfair. So unsatisfying. Especially when you layer on how doing it increases my frustration. On the list of things she can do to me that embody the domination I wish for her to embrace, there are few more powerful.

Jan 7

1 Comment

Deny me, part deux

This post is related to the task my Belle Fille gave me prior to leaving on her trip. I am to write on my blog specific things, blah blah blah. You know the drill by now.

–

Belle,

Upon further reflection, I’ve come up with with the following addendum to my previous note to you regarding my denial.

  • I go back and forth on whether it’s better to know when I’ll come next or if you should keep me guessing. Since the guessing part leads me to obsess over it in a not-so-good way (Is today the day? After she comes, will she tell me to keep going?), I’m now leaning towards having some forewarning. One way you could do this would be to set a date range. For example, there’s no way I will come before X date, but I’ll definitely come by Y. That spread could be a week to a month, but to make it much longer would defeat its purpose, I think. Another way you could handle this is to make it a reward for achieving a goal of some kind. For example, I will get one orgasm within a week of bringing you to climax N times. Using our last conversation on this topic as a guide, that would mean you get to come 50 times before I get to come once.
  • I would like to be milked on a regular basis. This, too, could be as a reward for exemplary service (your discretion) or be a regularly scheduled thing that you could take away as punishment if I did or said something you were unhappy with. So, maybe every Saturday night I get milked, but not this Saturday because I did that thing you didn’t like. Or maybe it will happen this Saturday, except you won’t let me eat what comes out afterward (for a more minor offense).
  • I need some kind of real consequence for an unauthorized emission. There’s two ways I can think of that you could do this. The first, and most obvious, would be to extend my period of denial by a large number of days. For example, I was supposed to come in two weeks, but since I demonstrated insufficient control over the cock, I will have to wait another two months. The other punishment scheme, and the one that is actually much more severe from my point of view, would be to cut off access to your body. If I ever come without permission, you would make me sit next to you on the bed, in chastity, back straight, with my hands behind my head (maybe even cuffed?), and only be able to watch you pleasure yourself for your next ten orgasms (however long that takes). I think it’s further proof of how orgasm denial has transformed my attitude toward sexual satisfaction that not being able to give you pleasure is honestly a fate worse than the continued denial of mine.

Yours in every way,
Thumper

Oct 31

Back in the box

Wednesday night, Belle was out of town. Before she left, she agreed to allow me to pleasure myself in her absence as long as I did not achieve orgasm. I have found that I need an outlet for my sexual tension when I can’t focus on her and dry masturbation seemed to help. Also, before she left, she agreed to leave our toy box unlocked as I wanted to play around with some of our new items (I called it “research”).

Earlier in the day, on my way back to the office following a client meeting, I found myself back at the house with thoughts of that unlocked box dancing in my head. I hurried into our bedroom, stripped, and brought out the Aneros. It had been about five days since my last orgasm and I wanted to see if I could milk myself.

My first impression of the Aneros was that it was very small. That was disappointing. As I’ve mentioned previously, I’m an old hand at putting things up my ass and have always been something of a size queen. The Aneros is positively dainty in comparison to some of the things I’ve gotten up there. What I found, though, is that size really doesn’t matter. A couple of drops of JO lube later, and it slid in so easily I almost didn’t feel it. Once in place though, I immediately appreciated its cunningly devised shape. After about 10 or 15 minutes of direct prostate massage combined with a moderate amount of stroking, I experienced my first non-orgasmic emission. It just sort of poured out in a rather lazy fashion and pooled next to my belly button. It was ejaculation without the jack. Since it was a new sensation attached to my dick, I have to say I enjoyed it, but it wasn’t anything like cumming. Afterward, I was still totally aroused, and in fact, remained in a heightened state of arousal for the remainder of the day. There was no post-orgasmic high. No drowsiness. No contentedness. My brain was still buzzing with sexual activity.

Which was probably why I screwed up that night. After all the kids were in bed and asleep, I wanted to repeat the milking experience. I wasn’t sure it was possible since my understanding of how it worked was that there had to be ejaculate backed-up and waiting behind the prostate, but I was horny as hell and couldn’t imagine it would hurt anything to try again. This time, it didn’t even take ten minutes. Either I found the fucking spot on my gland or it was extra sensitive from the earlier session, but the intensity of the feelings washing over me was like nothing I’ve ever felt before. Next thing I knew, and with little manual stimulation, the semen was leaking out again. Still not flying out like a normal orgasm, but with more vigor than the first time. In fact, it wasn’t so much the way it came out but how it felt inside that told me I had cum. As soon as I realized it was happening, I tried to stop it, but it was too late. It wasn’t an especially good orgasm, but an orgasm it was. I had broken my promise to Belle. I felt terrible.

Not only had I cum without permission, but I did it after she gave me permission to masturbate. It was just about the worst thing I could do. However, I also knew she would not appreciate the seriousness of the infraction. I could have told her and experienced no repercussions. But, in the twisted way my mind’s working, I wanted her to punish me. I needed to pay for cumming. Even though I’m no big fan of the CB6K, I knew that I needed to put it on. And not just for two days this time. I came without permission. I needed to do some hard time (so to speak).

If we have any issues in our relationship right now, they’re mainly centered around me needing her to be a strong, dominate female and her resistance to doing it naturally. She just doesn’t feel it. I want to be beat up, tortured, teased, and denied and she just wants to snuggle. Don’t get me wrong, I love snuggling (in fact, her absent-minded stroking of my armpit hair while we’re holding each other is one of my favorite sensations). But sometimes, and especially now since its all so new, I want her to domme it up a bit. I have a feeling it will come – that we’ll eventually meet half-way – but it’s going to take time. I’ll go vanilla for her when she wants me to and she’ll tie me up and spank me every so often. But for the moment, it’s somewhat awkward. Case in point…

I spilled the beans to her when she got home the next day. I told her I proactively locked myself up (though she admitted that she wouldn’t have thought of that). I told her she needed to decide for how long I was to be incarcerated and that she should not let my whining and complaining about it affect her decision. I needed to be locked up and denied for a long time. I should never, ever want to cum outside her company ever again. Yes, I do get off on this treatment, but I really do hate the fucking CB6K. Really. She needs show me who’s boss and to use the CB6K as her enforcement tool – the physical manifestation of her absolute control over my sexual pleasure. Hopefully someday, I won’t need to coach her on this and it’ll all just come to her naturally. When it does – when I fear her reaction to cumming at the wrong time or without her permission – then I’ll really be happy.

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