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.

Well, that was weird – further thoughts

Regarding this:

So last night she comes home late and pretty much says we aren’t going to be using any of the new items. I didn’t really think she’d be tying me up, but not even the collar? I can’t even try it on? I had built this moment up in my mind – me, the pet, getting my first collar, from her, my owner – and instead I get a tired wife who just wants to go to bed.

If I were in her shoes (which I’d never be since they look so uncomfortable and I have not even an inkling of a shoe/foot fetish nor am I interested in cross dressing) I’d have used this situation as a way to give me what I want without giving me what I want. I don’t expect she’s going to want to have sex as often as I do (especially when I’m getting no orgasmic release away from her), so why not just tell me to be a good boy and heel? Hell, hit me with a rolled up newspaper, even. Tell me tonight’s not the night and if I give her any crap about it she’ll add a week to however long it’s going to be until I get to cum. When the time comes, she can even threaten to lock me up. In short, leverage her disinterest into an opportunity to feed my kink. I suppose she’ll get there. This is all so new to both of us, though I’ve dived deeply into the concept and have read so much more on the topic than she has. Maybe it’s time to give her a tour of some of the sites I’ve been visiting.

Well, that was weird.

Last night was not especially great. Belle’s flight was delayed so she got home really late. Also, she had to get up early this morning and’ll be at a work thing tonight, so there’s no telling when we’ll get a chance for some quality time. Suddenly, the real world has shoved its nose into our life and I’m not liking it. It’s given rise to some worries.

Last post, I talked about the whole “exotic pet” metaphor. If someone had dropped a lemur or ferret on her doorstep without instruction, Belle’d be just as hard-pressed to deal with it as she is dealing with her suddenly kinky, horny, submissive husband. While I did order her some books, they only can help her so much if, at the end of the day, her heart’s just not in it. I never asked her if she wanted to control my orgasms and we never really talked about adding a large measure of kink into our sex lives. I more or less dumped all that on her. Well, what if she doesn’t like it? What if none of this really gets her going? In order for it to work for me, I need it to work for her. And last night, it just wasn’t.

Since she called me and told me about the things she was buying in San Francisco, I have been fixated on the collar. The other things (cuffs, straps, etc.) are also intriguing to me, but I’ve been imagining the collar almost constantly- the first time she put it on me, the way it would look around my neck, the way it would make me feel. Yeah, I’ve taken this whole pet thing pretty seriously. So last night she comes home late and pretty much says we aren’t going to be using any of the new items. I didn’t really think she’d be tying me up, but not even the collar? I can’t even try it on? I had built this moment up in my mind – me, the pet, getting my first collar, from her, my owner – and instead I get a tired wife who just wants to go to bed. No, there’s nothing wrong with that. It’s totally understandable. But I was pretty well crushed by the let down and that, in turn, led me to doubt this entire course we’re on. It also highlights the precarious emotional state I’m apparently in.

I feel as though I’m coming out to her. No, I’m not gay, but I can’t imagine telling her I was would be much more difficult than this. Where we are in our relationship and how quickly it’s developed over the past six to eight weeks, and the fact that sex (or lack of it) was one of the root issues that led to our troubles, has left me feeling a little insecure. On top of that, I know that as I’m exploring my desires I’m discovering new things about myself. As I mentioned in the last post, I’m finding myself much more drawn to D/s (with some reluctance). It’s as if I’m pulling a thread on a sweater and it just keeps coming with no end in sight. I really don’t know what kind of person I am. And I don’t know if Belle’s interested in maintaining whatever it is I’m becoming. And that’s scary.

Thumper: An exotic pet

Wednesday night, after Belle released me from the device, we had amazing, intense, and extraordinarily satisfying sex (at least for me). While we were discussing the affect the CB6K had on me and us, I was able to explain to Belle the four pillars of my kinkiness. In short, they are:

  • Orgasm tease and denial – This is foundational. Not sure a lot of folks would consider this a kink in an of itself, but, as I’ve written about previously, I’m categorizing it as a core kink for me and our relationship.
  • Pain – I am a masochist. When I’m aroused, any feeling of pain seems to amplify my pleasure. So far, Belle has been unable to inflict pain on me that crossed my threshold beyond sexual enjoyment. Pinching, scratching, hair pulling, and biting have, so far, only increased my arousal.
  • Bondage – I desperately want to be tied up. We have experimented with this very little, mostly due to lack of proper equipment. I remember telling her about my desire to experiment with bondage at the very beginning of our relationship, but she had no way to deal with that information at the time and nothing ever came of it. Truth be told, I’ve never really been tied up by anyone, but I’ve often fantasized about being secured with straps and ropes and unable to control the things being done to me. Plus, bondage porn is some of my favorite.
  • Anal play – This is the one thing that I have plenty of experience with. In my youth, I had several male sex partners and have held a fascination with putting things up my ass for as long as I can remember. However, with the exception of a brief period near the beginning of our relationship, Belle and I had never really talked about it and we’ve never integrated it into our sex. It has been relegated to solo masturbatory sessions for more than a decade.

You may notice, as I have, that the first three bullets involve activities often related to dominance and submission (D/s). I’ve written at the beginning of this blog that I wasn’t especially interested in being Belle’s slave. Interestingly though, the closer we edge towards activities with strong D/s overtones I find I have more interest in being dominated, in at least a sexual way. I am still decidedly NOT interested in Belle dominating me all the time in all we do. However, in bed, I’ve yet to find the bottom of the pool of my submissive desire.

So once the talking part of our evening was over (or, at least, the part where we talked exclusively since we usually talk quite a bit while making love), and Belle was being especially cruel to my nipples, raking her nails down my back and ribs, digging them into my ass cheeks (almost, but not quite, as good as ass biting), and squeezing and pulling on my balls, I blurted out that I wanted to be her sexual pet. I had already used the metaphor to describe all these new kinky needs suddenly gushing from her husband and how it was not unlike having an exotic animal left in your care with no idea what to do with it. It clicked in my head that, in fact, I did want to be her sexual pet. Like any well-trained and obedient animal, I was eager to please her and willing to accept just about any command. The attention she was lavishing on my body was profoundly arousing. While I was still her husband, lover, and friend, I also found myself moving to a place in my head where I was, absolutely, her pet. And I loved it.

Since I’m often over-thinking things, here’s my take on this. I don’t want to be a slave because, in my mind, that requires the abdication of too much authority over my body to someone else. I do not want to kneel before her or wait for her command (and she’s not interested in that, either). However, a pet still has the ability to think and act for itself. It can have an overwhelming need to satisfy its master, but as any pet owner knows, even the best-trained animal will sometimes do what it wants and try to take control of a moment. In this way, I think the pet metaphor is a much better expression of my need to be submissive while balancing my dislike of being totally dominated.

Yesterday, my wonderful Belle Fille called me from San Francisco, where she’s visiting a friend. To while away the afternoon before her friend came home from work, she was doing some shopping and happened upon a local sex shop called Good Vibrations. She called me and we both shopped the store as she walked the aisles and I surfed their website. She’ll be coming home Sunday with cuffs, straps, a feather tickler, nipple clamps and – the thing I’m most happy about – a fur-lined collar for her pet.

My wife is making her kinky little bunny very, very happy.

Out of the box

Belle let me out of the CB6K Wednesday night and I suspect I won’t be seeing it again for a while. There are several reasons for this. First, we’re in period of transformation in our relationship. Sometimes it’s easy to forget that it was less than two months ago that I revealed my infidelity to Belle. From that nadir to today’s zenith has been a remarkable period of discovery and growth that continues to evolve. The emotional and physiological impact of enforcing chastity was not adding to the joy of this period. Second, Belle’s still adjusting to her role as my keyholder (and I’ll continue to use that phrase even when not locked up since the key I’ve given her isn’t just a physical one). No small part of our emotional transformation is the sexual aspect. I feel like I’m dumping all kinds of stuff on her that I’ve had in my head for years and years (more on that soon) and she’s understandably going to need time to figure out what to do with it all. Frankly, she just isn’t ready to deal with a whiny, locked up male. Lastly, there are just so many other new sexual adventures for us to explore that the slow burn of chastity was taking the hitch out of our giddy-up. Once we get past this “kid on Christmas morning” period, I really hope well revisit the acrylic prison. Right now, though, is the wrong time.

Different, not better

Day two in the cage. This morning, Belle supervised as I dismantled the little acrylic torture chamber in order to put on the 2″ ring (which, by the way, is too big – makes the thing much less secure). The relief once it was off was palpable. I had mentioned to her less than 10 minutes before that I wanted to move up a size and that I needed her to unlock me. As soon as I realized I was going to be released, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I kept going back to her until she agreed to go into the bathroom with me and do it. I was like a little kid or a puppy or something. I had to get out of it.

She washed the tube while I reassembled the bits and pieces. As soon as I started to slide the lubed cage back over my cock, I felt the elation leak out of me. I think I even whimpered a little. When she snapped the lock, something snapped in me, too. Not “snapped” like a postal worker. Maybe “clicked” is a better word. Anyway, I suddenly felt very much kept. Locked up basically against my will since I really didn’t want to get back in there. But, a deal’s a deal. I gave her the power and she’s using it. I felt very different than before it arrived when she was denying me release. Then, I was looking for more stimulation – more access to her in order to get that. This time, I felt owned by her.

After the relocking was done, I followed her around from room to room, kissed her a lot, and (apparently) gave her funny looks. Now I realize that I’m not just being denied orgasm, but her touch as well. She likes to lay in bed and basically pet my cock. She’s been doing the same thing since I got locked up, but of course, now I can’t feel it. The only sensation I get from my cock now is negative (pressure, tightness, pain). I feel so much more dependent on her than before. I am starting to feel like I’m her prisoner. It is effecting me emotionally and mentally.

Mind you, I’m not saying I want to stop. I really want to continue to experiment with the device. However, at this time, I can’t say I want chastity to be a huge part of our sexual lifestyle – more like a side dish rather than an entree. I love that she controls it. I love that I have no power over its use. It is a huge turn-on. Beyond that, though, I’m not sure I love how it makes me feel.

Irresistible force

The biggest surprise so far with the CB6K is that, in fact, it does not stop erections. Just like Christmas morning the night after the Grinch steals all the Who-gifts, somehow or other, I get hard just the same. Unfortunately, the strength of my erection doesn’t break the box it’s in quite as easily as the Grinch’s heart did when it grew from four sizes too small. It’s more like when he gets caught going down the chimney. Yeah, OK, enough Dr. Suess metaphors.

I guess I thought the erection would start, see that it didn’t have room, shrug its shoulders, and then go back into his hole. Turns out it doesn’t have shoulders (D’OH!). It just keeps on truckin‘ and ends up backing up into my body and pressing the CB6K’s ring into the underside of my balls. Ouch. I’m going to try moving to the 2″ ring tonight, but don’t have much hope that it’ll make a difference.

Belle leaves town on Thursday for four days. She says she knows if I’ll be locked up while she’s gone, but she’s not willing to tell me my fate…

The Eagle has landed

Belle picked me up at the airport yesterday afternoon and had the CB6K with her. It was smaller than she had expected, but actually a little bigger than I had thought it would be (maybe a good thing). It’s exactly what all the pictures of it look like on the internet, so very little surprise out of the box. She said she’d put me in it that night since I wasn’t in the proper condition at that moment anyway and she wasn’t feeling all that well (which is why she was home yesterday and able to come get me).

We got home and, sickness be damned, were all over each other. Pretty soon we were naked and I was sending her into orgasm with a combination of my fingers and mouth (there’s nothing better than directly feeling her orgasms with my tongue). Then, because she’s sweet and probably a little too indulgent, she said I’d needed to fuck her and come if I wanted to be able to put the device on before we went to pick up the kids. It had only been since Wednesday with no teasing in between, but it was a fucking amazing release anyway.

I started with the 2 inch ring and the second to smallest spacer. We applied JO lube and did our best to pack my sausage into its new home. I was immediately able to pull it off. I moved to the 1 7/8″ ring and the smallest spacer. After two or three painful pinches getting it assembled, it was more secure, but I’m still pretty sure I could pull out if I wanted to. Also, the friggin‘ ring is tight. Not sure how much of this is par for the course and how much is just ill-fitting, but away we went to pick up the kiddies and head out for dinner.

I definitely knew it was there the entire time. While driving, the CB6K had nowhere to go but down my left leg making me look like I’m either very well hung or very aroused. By the time we had both the kids and were at the restaurant, I was feeling some pretty intense pinching. Once home, I found a bunch of scrotum skin bunched up and pinched between the cage and the ring. Pulled that back through the ring and, using a Q-tip, shoved my winky more fully into the cage and felt better. Then I had to pee.

OK, this I’m not thrilled about. There’s something about a strong, heavy stream of hot piss plunging into a toilet bowl that says – loudly and proudly – “guy”. Pissing through the end of the cage slows and disrupts the stream so it comes trickling out. Standing is, of course, out of the question. Sitting, it sounds to all the world like the tinkling of a little girl. Grrr. It accentuates my imprisonment and Belle’s ownership of my manhood in an unexpected way. While it makes this simple act much more complicated and somewhat humiliating, I also have to admit to being aroused by it.

We eventually went to bed with the idea that we’d just snuggle and watch TV, but I wasn’t much interested in just snuggling and was shortly pleasuring her with my fingers while sucking on her right nipple. After her second orgasm of the day, it was time for sleep. She gently stroked my forehead trying to bring me down off my hormonal surge (I said she was sweet) and we fell into sleep with her in my arms. Bliss.

About 90 minutes later, I was awake and on fire. The ring was incredibly tight and burned around the root of my unit while my cock felt numb. I went into the bathroom hoping to find my junk turning blue so I’d have an excuse to take the damned device off, but no dice. All was pink and normal, though very constrained. My hard-on had filled every tiny space inside the cage and the tip of my penis was pressing against the slit on the end of the tube. It wasn’t numb, it was just sensory deprived. I had the sensation of my dick being transported away from my body and held somewhere dark and tight, though I could still feel it. Weird.

After a few cycles of falling back to sleep only to be awakened by my little prisoner’s anguish, I rolled over and put my arm over Belle. She woke up a little and asked how I was sleeping. I asked what would happen if I said I wasn’t, and she said nothing would happen, that she was just curious. Nice. So much for all that shit about her being sweet.

Like a Twinkie without the creamy filling

Random thought. Like I said in the previous post, Belle and I have been away from each other for a week with just one short (yet productive) visit. In that time, I have hardly touched myself, let alone masturbated. This is not the version of orgasm denial I had in mind! Once I get home, we’ll get back in the swing of things, but the absence of orgasms along with the absence of teasing or some other intense sexual stimulant isn’t fun, it’s just sad.

Changes are afoot

Ugh, being away from Belle Fille has been hell…on both of us. In the past week, we’ve spent about 12 hours together and for most of those we were sleeping. First she was gone and I was miserable and now I’ve been gone and it’s her turn. As I write this, I’m about 12 hours away from going home to her and not a moment too soon. What is it they say about tomorrow being the first day of the rest of your life?

Saturday was our 11th wedding anniversary. Eleven years of keeping my sexual needs and wants hidden from her. Eleven years of her not being able to fully embrace the sexual being that was within her. Eleven years leading up to a crisis in our marriage that’s left us stronger for having survived it. If the past six weeks (since I told her about the affair) have been the time our relationship was being heated and hammered by the blacksmith, then this past week was the final plunge into cold water before our new marriage – forged from what was left of the old – was fully complete.

We’re calling this “11.1” – the first year after the first eleven years. Standing here at the brink of it, I find myself filled with excitement and overwhelmed by the potential of it all.

So, to fill you in on the events of the past several days: On Wednesday last, Belle came home from her trip. I did everything I could to clear the decks so that, upon her arrival, we could focus on each other. However, her plane landed early so the kids were still awake when she got home. Whatever. Minor setback. We still got to spend quality time (most of it naked by candlelight) and, after she climbed on top of me and came, she stayed up there and rode me to a fantastic orgasm. Jesus, I thought my toe nails were going to pop off. It had been just five days since my last emission (not that long compared to what many on the interweb say they’ve endured) but it was the longest I’d gone without release (while also being sexually aroused) since, like, ever.

The CB6K will arrive tomorrow and all the other toys (with the exception of the new cock rings) have already shown up. She’ll be leaving again on Thursday to spend time with her girlfriend in San Francisco (no, not that kind of girlfriend – but bonus points for thinking it) and I have to admit I hope she leaves me locked up while she’s away. I’m a little worried about getting the fit right in just a few days, but think I can figure it out in time.

Lastly, Belle has expressed an interest in joining me on this blog. I’ve set her up with an account, so we’ll see what happens. The idea of a he-said-she-said thing kind of turns me on and, I think, her journey along this new path might be even more interesting than mine.