Month: January 2010

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Questions from a reader IV

Parts una, duo, and tres.

We’ve hit the half-way point! It’s all downhill from here.

In respect of your comments as to whether you are submissive or “submissively inclined”, from what I have read, you don’t strike me as what I think of as submissive.  You enjoy sexual submission, but that seems to be as far as it goes.  While you do perform domestic services, you do it as part of sexual conduct and to satisfy sexual needs.  But you retain a significant amount of control and power both outside your relationship and within it, or at least that is how your blog reads to me.

Well, your guess is as good as mine. I’m just starting to figure out this whole submissive thang, to be honest.

It’s true I have a great deal of power and control at my work. That’s because I own the place and pretty much run it. However, this isn’t contradictory to being submissive in my relationship. From what I understand, it’s actually common.

With regard to having power in my relationship, it’s not that simple. I have influence. Just because I’m her sub doesn’t mean I don’t want things. We’ve established a nice system whereby I’m able to communicate my wants without making her feel obligated to give them too me (this’ll come up again in a later question). If I have real power in our dynamic, it’s based on the fact that I know she love me and wants me to be happy. It’s a power I could use, but choose not to since I like her being in control. I’m not saying I don’t struggle with the whole “topping from the bottom” thing from time to time, but I think it’s a lot clearer now than it used to be. I’m much more patient, for one thing. I’m able to let go of my need to steer and let her establish the path we’ll take more or less based on her speed. Yes, I’ll occasionally nudge or suggest, but it’s always with the understanding that it’s all up to her, not me.

You might read all that and think I sound like I have it all figured out, but I don’t. I admit to having some insecurities around my submissiveness (And I really a sub? Like, all the time?). Also, like any other human relationship dynamic, I know that our D/s will have its up, down and sideways moments. I guess the bottom line is I’ve decided to just roll with it and see what happens.

As an adjunct to that, how would you respond if Belle Fille said she wanted you to submit financially to her?  To give her full and complete control over every cent you earn and the family finances?

I’ve already asked her to do this. After reading Steve’s deal, I forwarded it to Belle and suggested we do the same. I’m all for it, but so far she hasn’t established the parameters.

Also, would the ultimate exercise of Belle Fille’s control over you be for her to deny you what you want – to deny you your denial?  What would happen if she insisted that you have full orgasms every day for a week?  Not “ruined” ones, but full on, ear popping, feet scrabbling, locomotives of sperm.  If you were really submissive, you would submit and do as she ordered.  But is that the submissive paradox – being made to do what you don’t want to do is really what you want to do ….?

Mykey had a situation once (described in posts I can’t find at the moment) where his wife Sandy made him come and then consume his own spunk every day for a week. That was fucking hot. Totally. Fucking. Hot. So yeah, if it was in the context of Belle exercising her control over me and my sexual release, I’d be game for whatever.

One aspect of your relationship that I would find very difficult to emulate if it were required of me is that one person does all the heavy lifting in terms of sexual decision making.  I love being in charge of my own sexuality, but I don’t know if I have the energy to also make all the decisions for someone else.  It’s a bit like having to decide what to cook for dinner every night – you might be a fussy eater and a good cook, but every now and then you want someone else to come up with an idea!   Does Belle Fille find it a burden? Do you think it is an unfairness that works in your favour, that you are no longer required make the hard calls?  (God, this message has so many double entendres that I can’t be bothered trying to avoid them anymore!)

This gets back to my having influence over the course of events, but not outright control over them. Belle’s Rule says I can come on to her all I want in any way I want 72 hours after her orgasm, so it’s not as one-sided as your question sounds. For a while, I wasn’t allowed to make any move on her without permission, but that didn’t really work for either of us. For her, it was pretty much as you describe. Lots of pressure on her. Too much control, not enough spontaneity. Sometimes a girl likes to know how much her boy wants to fuck her senseless, even if she’s going to shut him down. Also, we found that waiting for her to want it so bad that she’d allow me to start working on her led to a lot more infrequent sex. That usually ended up making me feel depressed (and her more stressed as a result). Letting me get physical with her, even if nothing comes of it, gives me an outlet to demonstrate my frustration (which makes me feel better).

Your question also misses out that sometimes she’ll tell me we will have sex, but that I have to drive and get to do whatever I want (absent orgasm, of course, or actual fucking if I’m in the device). Her control over our sex includes having the prerogative to delegate that control to me, if only temporarily.

Having said that, I know that the reason it would not work for me it that I like partners who are sexually confident and sexually persuasive – which I distinguish from being sexually aggressive, which can be damned annoying!  I like a partner who does more than just respond – who can seduce me, who can get me going from a standing start.  I know that you now have limited permission to initiate sexual conduct, but does Belle Fille, and do you, not miss your more significant input (another one…) into getting the fire lit?  Do you not miss those opportunities to seduce your partner, or do you see your submission as seduction?

I think I answered this one with the last one. As far as I know, Belle’s Rule allows me to do whatever I want until either a) she tells me to stop, or b) she comes. I am sexually confident and can be very persuasive. “Submissive” does not equal “passive” (unless that’s what the dominant wants). I am not a passive person.

What you seem to crave from Belle Fille is a lack of compassion – you want her to see your suffering and be unmoved by it.  That seems to get you very hot.  Do you find that you are starting to see compassion as something undesirable, or as a weakness?  Or are you able to keep that dynamic solely within your relationship?

You’re correct that I want her to see my suffering, but not that I want her to be unmoved. Rather the opposite, I want her to be deeply moved. On the denial side, it’s a continuous demonstration of my willingness to be controlled by her. I gave her my cock. That’s a big deal and I “suffer” because of it every day. On the masochism side, it’s a little different. If you’re not a masochist, I’m not sure how to explain it and I don’t know you’ll ever understand, but I want her to hurt me a lot. To the point at which I can no longer take it, and just a little bit more. I want her to push me and I want to show her how willing I am to be pushed. I want to suffer and squirm and writhe and do it all because it is from her hand. But far from being unmoved, I want her to know that I do it for her because she’s my love and to understand that I know she does it to me because I am hers.

Of course, the two things feed on each other. The more I’m denied, the more I crave the pain and the more pain I can take. There are times when I want the hurt more than anything else. Axe just went though a week of beatings (here, here, and here). Just the idea of being beaten every day for a whole week makes me light headed. Imagine Homer Simpson and how his jaw drops and gets all drooly when he’s around donuts. That’s me thinking about what happened to Axe.

All that aside, you’re right that I’d rather not see compassion from her. I don’t want her to ever seem like she’s sorry for me, or if she is, to do it in a way that makes me feel smaller and more inferior. Case in point. She loves her vibrator Pink. Loves. It. I know she does. But she very often makes a point of telling me she likes her cock (that is, the one on me) more than any toy. This might be true, but honestly, I don’t want to hear it. I don’t need to hear it. I’m not threatened. Quite the contrary, I can think of nothing hotter than her finding something other than me to be the most sexually satisfying. Besides, the last thing I want to hear is that she’s not being fully satisfied since her favorite “toy” is locked in the device (and can’t be trusted anyway since I find it so hard to control my orgasm when I’m using it).

And (on a lighter note) do you ever worry about having a car accident and being taken to hospital and having to explain why you have that attached to your cock??  Like the “always wear clean underwear because you might be hit by a bus” argument??

In short, no, I don’t worry about it. Ever. Maybe at the beginning when, ironically, I was wearing a device I could have conceivably removed bare-handed, but not anymore. Maybe that’s just sexually charged bravado or plain old stupidity, but it’s just not a factor.

And there you go. Thirteen questions, 13 answers. It helped that these came in right when Belle started her period since there wasn’t much else to do anyway. 😉

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Questions from a reader III

Part one and two.

I have to admit, that last asnwer kinda knocked the wind out of me. There was a lot of stuff in there that I hadn’t dragged out in a while…

Here’s the next one:

Do you think that your infidelity in any way still informs the relationship between you and Belle Fille?  I know it’s simplistic to say it, but it is tempting to note that your cock got you into a heck of a lot of trouble and nearly cost you your marriage.  By handing over control of it to Belle Fille and denying yourself orgasms, you achieve 2 things: (a) you ensure that it can’t happen again, and (b) you could be seen as punishing yourself, or atoning, for your transgression.  I don’t think that’s why you have chosen this dynamic, but it does achieve both those things.  The main reason that I ask if your infidelity might still be present in some form is because of an entry in which Belle Fille came home after a night out and a few drinks and, at your request, repeatedly punched you in the balls.  Now I know you wanted it, but I don’t think I could bring myself to do that to someone I loved, even if they wanted me to.  Or not unless I was really, really ANGRY at them.   It’s the ultimate response to a cheating husband – to really hit him where it hurts.  I know you love her for doing it, and that she is getting in more and more touch with her inner domme,  but is there any anger or resentment present in her enjoyment of your submission?

I understand how on the surface my chastity and denial might be seen as a result of the affair (and, were I in a hawt chastity porn story, not only would that be the case, but the device would be somehow magically and permanently attached to me while she enjoyed a succession of lovers with ever-larger cocks), but in reality, experimenting with chastity was my idea, not hers. I have reflected on the apparent irony of the former cheater being denied access to the weapon used in the crime, but I am totally unaware of any connection in my mind in wanted to be locked up and what I did. They’re two separate things divided by personal revelations and events and aren’t connected.

You’re correct that, by keeping the cock locked up, it is ensured that I’ll never put somewhere it doesn’t belong again, and it’s also true that the last time I saw TOW, Belle had me locked up. Belle will have to answer herself if making me wear it then was a safeguard against her or to keep me from playing with myself in a hotel room (I think the latter). Belle and I have regained trust in our relationship with or without the device. With regard to the idea that I might be punishing myself or atoning, that’s not the case either. I admit that the idea of being punished and forced to atone is super-hot, that’s not what’s happening at all. I am locked up and denied because Belle loves me and knows I want to be controlled by her in that way.

As far as I’m concerned, the only way chastity and denial are somehow involved in the affair is how they make impossible a repeat of the conditions which brought it about in the first place. When we were vanilla, my sexual gratification wasn’t connected to our relationship. For the most part, it happened outside our bedroom. Now, since she’s in control of my orgasms, I will never find relief without her. Before, my cock would lead me away from her while now it leads me closer to her. Sex and our relationship are now intertwined in way they’ve never been before. Had it not been for the affair, we wouldn’t be here today.

Regarding anger or resentment in her domination of me, I don’t believe it’s present. She’ll need to address that herself, but I don’t sense it. Rather, I sense her domination comes from her love for me and an actual enjoyment on her part in playing that role. When she punches me in the nuts, it’s not to express anger or relieve frustration with me, it’s because she cares for me. Yes, kicking a guy in the nuts is a great way to get back at him for something terrible, but for me, it’s also a way to make love and that’s how she approaches it. Truth is, it took her a long time to really let loose and hit me as hard as I wanted to be hit. If she was doing it to make me suffer, I suspect she would have let loose from the beginning.

I note a comment by Belle Fille that your submissiveness makes her feel “desired, appreciated, respected”.  Did she not feel like that before you became submissive?  Or did she feel it less?   I can understand why she did not feel it at all on learning of your infidelity, as that could destroy those feeling.  But I feel desired, appreciated and respected not just because my partner treats me like that, but also because I know, with or without that relationship, that I am desirable, appreciated and respected.  I don’t need someone to fold my laundry or put a ring around their cock to generate my feelings of self worth.  (Reading that back it sounds really harsh and critical, which is not what I intended, but I am not sure how else to say it and make the point).  Or am I making too much of her comment?

Previous to the affair, neither of us felt especially desired, appreciated, or respected. The affair wasn’t the cause of that condition, rather that condition was the cause of the affair. Now, my submission to her allows her to feel those things, but her domination of me makes me feel them, too. It’s not just because of the D/s that we feel that way, but because we have an active, healthy, and engaged sex life. It could take many different forms, but for us right now, it’s D/s. The laundry folding and cock hardware don’t create her feelings of self worth, but what they represent in our relationship do for both of us. They mean we are committed to one another’s needs in a way we may never have been prior to the affair.

Your confusion over this point is, I think, very common for people not engaged in our kind of relationship. Focusing on the trappings of D/s is wrong. All the D/s is is a type of commitment we’ve made to each other’s satisfaction. It may look one-sided or like she needs to force me to behave a certain way, but that’s just wrong. We do it for each other because we love one another and like how it feels and how it feeds our foundational relationship.

Time to start the day. More to come later!

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Questions from a reader II

Part one is here.

You mentioned some time ago that you and Belle Fille were attending couples counselling.  I am not sure if that is still the case, but do/did you discuss your current relationship dynamic with your counsellor? I am not asking what you or your counsellor said – obviously, that is entirely private but I was interested as to whether you raised it at all.

We are no longer in counseling. I can’t say exactly how it happened, but at some point we realized we didn’t need it any more. It was primarily the vehicle we used to get past the infidelity. Once we saw the path through that and had basically put it behind us, we stopped going.

My deviant sexual desires did come up in the last handful of sessions, but it was very early on in our exploration of them and the dynamic between us hadn’t yet come into focus. At that point, she was just starting to beat me and we had already started playing with chastity (I remember wearing it to her office and trying to sit so it wasn’t so obvious), but we never really got into the specifics with her. I remember the first time we mentioned my kinkiness, she immediately went to the extreme conclusions (warning us that breath play can lead to cardiac arrest, etc.). I was put off by her initial reaction, but over time felt more comfortable with her attitude. She wanted to make sure Belle was a willing participant and that we were cognizant of her limits. Other than a vague reference to “power exchange” and masochism, it wasn’t discussed in much detail.

Had our counselor been more “kink-aware”, I think I would have advocated for more sessions. Since she wasn’t and since we had moved on from what had brought us there to begin with, stopping was the right thing for us to do.

This may be another one of those questions/comments that falls in the “way too personal and I’m not even going to consider answering it” categories, in which case please don’t be offended and just ignore it, but I am going to include it anyway.  What was the basis of the relationship with the other woman?  Was it a purely sexual relationship?  Did you get as big a sexual kick out of it as you get out of the submissive relationship you have now?

The other woman (henceforth referred to as TOW) and I had developed a friendship over several years based on our shared interest in a wildlife organization. Since she lives in another part of the country, I’d only see her once or twice a year at group events (conferences and camping trips).

I won’t speak to her motivations in developing a relationship with a married man since I have no idea what they were, but I was driven to her as a result of Belle and I having an essentially sexless marriage. I told TOW from the very moment we started the affair that I was never going to leave Belle. All I needed was sex and the feelings of being desierable and appreciated that come from it (though I couldn’t articulate that part to her at the time). The actual affair went on for a couple of months through phone calls, emails, and text messages while the sex part only happened over a single weekend. And yes, as vanilla sex goes, it was very satisfying. I got what I needed from it.

During that weekend, I felt like I was living in a fantasy world. In retrospect, I’m shocked at how well I had been able to compartmentalize my real world with Belle and the fake world of TOW. In the moment, I felt no guilt or even a realization that I was involved with something that had no future. I was getting what I needed right then and refused to allow myself to think about anything other than the present. However, sitting alone in a different hotel room by the airport waiting to go back to my life, all that I had been missing in my relationship with Belle (a satisfying sex life, honesty, closeness) yawned open before me and threatened to suck everything that I cared for away. I was suddenly and acutely aware of how profoundly fucked up my life had become and it scared the crap out of me since my overriding desire was to stay with Belle and preserve my family.

I had stepped into my fantasy world expecting to be able to keep it separate from the real world, but at that moment (and to my horror) they came crashing into each other. All the guilt that had been accumulating like lava beneath the surface of my actions erupted all at once. I knew that it was just a matter of time before I’d have to expose Belle to what I had done.

Fast forward to the present. Do I regret what I did? I regret the pain. I regret the dishonesty. I do not regret where we are now. I can’t really square this in my mind, but had I not entered into my affair, Belle and I would likely still be living the life we had before which, I understand now, was deeply dissatisfying. Sooner or later, it would have happened. I guess it’s possible that some other force would have made us face up to our relationship’s issues, but I firmly believe that my path was set. Had it not been TOW, it would have been someone or something else. The journey we took back to our marriage has made us much, much closer and allowed me to reveal the things I wanted and needed from our relationship, to both her and myself.

So I said the sex in that hotel room was satisfying and, relatively speaking, it was. However, the sex life I enjoy now is infinitely more satisfying. Our relationship has a depth and texture it never could have had before. I am totally happy and feel light years away from where I was back then. I know it was me and I know I did it, but the thought of doing it now makes me feel like I have memories of someone else’s life.

Belle has always been and always will be my best friend and I have never felt closer to her than I do right now.

Your next question continues down this path, but I feel the need to recharge before I tackle it.

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Questions from a reader

I received a email this morning chock full o’ questions from a reader of the blog. I suspect they picked it up in the middle somewhere and then went back and reread the whole thing, though they don’t actually say that in their email. In any event, they’ve taken the time to ask thirteen (!) questions, some of which have been covered previously in one form or another, but many deal with topics I may not have addressed directly or at all. All of them are thoughtfully written. I plan on answering them over several posts since to do them all justice at once would take a great deal of time and many, many words.

And with that, let’s start!

Are you and Belle Fille concerned about your children either finding out about your current dynamic, or of them sensing that you are a submissive?  Do you find it has affected your relationship with them at all?

I don’t think I “present” as submissive at all. This will come up again in other answers, but I doubt anyone who knows me socially would peg me as a sexual submissive (double entendre and all). I say that because I don’t think either of our children, at ages 7 and 11, would pick up on any signs other than I tend to (but not always) defer to Belle’s wishes around the house and have recently started doing a much larger share of the household tasks than I used to. I’m not one of those subs who demure around their domme or otherwise act subservient and servile. In bed, yes. Around the house and socially, not so much. I’m willful and talk back. An uppity sort of sub.

I have no problem with my kids eventually finding this out about me (well, no more problems than anyone has with regard to their sex lives and how it should or should not be shared with close family). Even though I’ve struggled with certain aspects, I am not ashamed of what I am or what we do or what I like her to do to me. I don’t worry about them thinking less of me as a man or that I’m being less of a role model to my son. Quite the contrary, I’d like to present an acceptable alternative to him with regard to how men are “supposed” to be, especially with regard to how they interact with their mates. I don’t intend to somehow try to make him like me. My goal would be demonstrating to him that he can be exactly who he is without regard to cultural norms or expectations.

All that being said, the one thing I try to keep from them at all costs is the chastity device. They’re simply not prepared to understand or deal with that at this point in their lives (nor, I’m sure, would they ever want to know about it). Also, I’m not sure they’d understand the various implements she uses to hurt me. All the accoutrement of our sex life should remain firmly in the privacy of Belle’s bedroom/my pants.

With regard to affecting my relationship with them, I find myself being somewhat more deferential to my daughter (or, at least being more aware of it). I don’t know what to make of this. It could just as well be the well-documented way daddies are easily manipulated by their little girls. I also find that when I’ve been denied for a longish period of time and haven’t had access to Belle that I’m much more abrupt and have less patience with them (and the world in general). I start to resent their presence around us as I want to have Belle all to myself. This is totally unfair and unacceptable, of course, and I try to temper myself with reason when I see myself being that way, but it happens just the same. I feel as though the denial and dependency on her sets up a very primally competitive attitude. Since they’re around us more than anyone else, it attaches to them fairly easily.

Do you feel that you have changed in your other relationships such as with your friends, family and workmates?  You seem to be so focused on your sexuality and on Belle Fille, that I wonder if other relationships have altered?

Yes, I have greatly curtailed my involvement in certain extracurricular activities over the past year. There are many reasons for this, but the primary one is that I’m far more interested in what’s happening in my relationship and sex life than I am in other things that used to take up a lot of my time. In fact, I need that time to properly interact with Belle according to our D/s dynamic. I don’t in any way resent this change. I have enough time to pursue my interests and have maintained those friendships that matter.

My relationships with other family members outside our house have not changed in any appreciable way. Neither have my friendships except that I wish I had more friends I could talk to about my marriage and how it’s changed. When I was having my affair and afterward, there were many people I could have talked to about it, but ironically, now that my marriage is better than ever, I don’t feel comfortable getting into it with anyone because of how it’s been transformed. I guess this blog is an outlet for my need to share and verbally process everything. I guess these questions of yours are, too.

Two down, eleven to go!

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Top five

First off, I just have to say UGH! Vikings. Jesus. UGH!!

There. That’s off my chest.

Going into this weekend, I had been given guidance by Belle that I’d be locked up on Friday. She left me unlocked for almost a week, though due to various nighttime work-related activities for both of us, we never connected over the course of the week (where “connected” means “fucked”). Friday night came and went and I was still free as a bird.

That caused me to cop a bit of an attitude. In our brief conversation the next day, she told me she didn’t want to lock me up until she had chance to take advantage of the unencumbered member. I told her I figured as much, but it would have been nice to hear what she was thinking. Friday morning, she had made a point of reminding me what her plans were that night, but when the night came, she snuggled up in bed and went right to sleep. Nothing happened. That, of course, is her prerogative, but it left me feeling somewhat miffed. Absence of action along with an absence of communication is difficult to deal with. All I need to hear is that she’s changing her plans and I’m cool. That little bit of communication helps assure me she still takes all this seriously. Anyway, it wasn’t that big of a deal. And we talked, so it’s all good.

Saturday night, I hustled the kids off to bed as early as reasonable (though clearly unreasonably early, according to the eleven-year-old). Once they were down for the count, Belle told me she wanted us to have good old-fashioned vanilla sex. Well, maybe vanilla with a few kinky sprinkles on top since, naturally, I wasn’t allowed to come.

I went into it not feeling too insecure with regard to coming accidentally. However, after several minutes of slow fucking, I started to feel myself get drawn in to the action. I try to keep my mind on other things (like her nipples, work, the political ramifications of recent special elections), but I was quickly running out of distractions and she was obviously enjoying what I was doing to her. With remarkably little warning, I found myself past the point of no return. I told her I was coming, but I could tell she was still a little ways off.

“Keep fucking,” she said.

So I did. I fucked right through the orgasm. It felt really good for about one and a half seconds before the head of the cock started to burn and all the muscles I had been contorting so I could keep my mouth on her nipple, one hand on the other nipple, and the cock in her pussy all at the same time started to complain. The joy of the orgasm was swept away by the psychic energy necessary to keep my rhythm. The load of spunk I shot into her completely changed the viscosity of her lubrication and once it got good and sloppy, she started to arch her back and breath heavier.

“Keep….fucking,” she ordered me, “KEEP…FUCKING…”

She reached up with both hands and grabbed onto the headboard while I did as I was told and humped her harder and faster. I hadn’t lost the erection, but the sensations coming up from it were no longer at all pleasurable. She finally came extraordinarily hard and it was all I could do to keep myself from collapsing onto her.

After I rolled off, she gasped, “Top five. That was one of the top five of all time.”

So on the one hand, I’m really happy she had such a tremendous orgasm. On the other hand, I’m upset with myself that I came. But on the third hand (work with me here), at least it wasn’t pleasurable. Totally ruined.

Sunday, I put on the device.

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Alien flesh

Penises are spatially variable things. They get bigger, they get smaller, they’re hard then soft, they twirl around and get squished and squashed. Their friends, the testicles, are the same way. They move around all on their own and, like octopi, have the strange ability to fit into the narrowest spaces. Sometimes, the scrotum splays out like a jellyfish that swallowed a couple soft-boiled eggs, while other times it’s like a tight, wrinkly little meatball. Frankly, it’s all very weird and random.

This is top of mind as I’m still out of the device and have only just reacclimated to all the ways this strange appendage behaves. When you’re in a chastity device, everything is more or less static. Yes, things tighten up and feel different from time to time, but by and large, they don’t actually look any different (unless, of course, your device is see-through). When your cock is in a big steel tube, it’s the big steel tube you have to deal with all the time. The cock eventually fades into the background, especially since it’s out of site. And while the balls are still out there, the A-ring tends to shepherd them into very reliable configurations. The phrase “a place for everything and everything in it’s place” comes to mind.

To be honest, being out is a big distraction. I was locked up for almost a month and dealing with that condition became second nature. While I appreciate the flexibility a free cock has (both physically and in application), trapping it in a device makes it a known, fixed variable. And of course, temptation stays at bay.

It’s like when your best friend across the street from when you were a kid went away for half the summer. You missed him at first and learned to have fun without him and of course always looked forward to his return. But when he did get back, you had to readjust all the things you figured out how to do when he was gone. The dynamic between you and your other non-best friends had to shift around to make room for him again. That’s how it is now with free meat. Suddenly, it’s back and demands attention. I’m not supposed to play with it, but it’s very insistent.

There’s a part of me that really misses the confinement, even though it’s only been five days of freedom. I like the controlled feeling of device. I like feeling her control. I’ve been wearing the A-ring off and on as a reminder and think I’ll leave it on permanently now. It simply feels too weird not having something down there, even if it leaves the cock free to be a strange alien thing.

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New theme

I have (obviously) switched to a new theme. I liked the old one because it was clean and non-distracting, but I’ve never been a big fan of white text on a black background. Also, the comments were very hard to read. This new theme is, IMO, gorgeous.

I’ll be tinkering with it for a little while until it’s exactly how I want it, but in the mean time, I hope you like it as much as I do. And if you don’t…well…c’est la vie.

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He comes laughing

I woke up Saturday morning at our family compound in the North Woods at 5:28. That’s within 5 minutes of when I woke up every day for the previous week or so. Usually I get up and pee since, as any guy knows, peeing helps alleviate morning wood and some days the wood’s so woody that the ring of the device is biting harder than a snapping turtle chomping on a guy’s tit. Not every day, but most days. I guess you could say that beside all the other reasons chastity is good for us, it’s also convenient having a reliable alarm clock with you wherever you go.

The night before, after rolling in moderately late and getting the kids settled down and asleep, Belle and I were laying in bed sipping Bailey’s, me naked at her direction, talking about the Steelheart again. I had been wearing it for 25 days and, while maybe not a record, it was pushing it. You leave something like that on yourself for so long and you start to lose physical memory of what it was like before it came along. We have both come to think of it as the cock and not just something over it. I told her how happy it made me to be wearing something she liked so much.

“Oh no”, she corrected me, “I don’t just like it. I love it.” Whimper.

The next afternoon, she unlocked it so I could prepare myself for that night. I was happy to see no surprises lurking under the steel. It all seemed perfectly normal (though I imagined it blinking and covering it’s eyes after so long in the dark). I cleaned both it and myself and shaved the spots I can’t normally get to. For the remainder of the day, I was commando in my pajama bottoms.

As the fabric rubbed against the head of the cock, I found the skin more and more sensitive to it. I don’t know if it’s something to do with the material of the device or if the PA fixing holds it such that it doesn’t come in contact with anything when it’s in there, but by the time we went to bed, it was really kind of driving me nuts. There’s nothing apparently wrong with it (maybe a little red), but it remains extraordinarily sensitive, even today.

The evening’s sexual activities were pretty standard fare. She let me give her an pretty great orgasm using my fingers and mouth (while she gently abused my balls) before I entered her. Once it was in the friendly confines of the warm and wet, any discomfort I felt on the head of the cock disappeared. The now thoroughly defeated sex lizard stirred just enough for me to lose myself in the act of fucking her, but not so much that I forgot to do as Ms. Rika suggests and ask to stop just before I came. I knew Belle wanted me to, and I figured I was going to, but Belle also liked Rika’s tactic of always having the man ask to stop before he comes (to ask if he can’t as opposed to asking if he can). In any event, the question surprised Belle and by the time she answered that she did want me to come, it was too late anyway. Nothing in the world was going to stop it.

I felt between four and five fat, healthy squirts followed by a large number of post-orgasmic flexes and throbs. It felt. So. Good. Seriously, top 10% of all orgasms. I even laughed. I once had a boyfriend who laughed when he came and I never really understood it since I’ve always felt orgasms were deadly serious business, but there I was, laughing. It was wonderful. Belle later commented on the prolific nature of the orgasm’s payload and I reminded her that it was 28 days worth with no relief (no milking and very little ancillary leakage).

Sleep reached up and forcibly pulled me down into its grasp. I slept incredibly hard and can remember no dreams. Just deep, deep sleep. And I didn’t wake up until Belle did at 7:30.

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High as a kite

I haven’t had a fitful night due to pent up sexual frustration in a while, but I did last night. Belle got home pretty late due to a work thing and, even though she was tired and went pretty much right to bed, I tried my best to get into her pants.

“Fine,” she said, “Get Pink. Make it snappy, though, because I have a busy day tomorrow.”

I have a proven ability to get her off in less than 10 minutes, and while I’d prefer a longer session, I’m too fucking horny pass up even a quickie. I grabbed the little pink vibe and got to work. By the time she came, I was fucking her with it and fingering her clit all at the same time using the same hand. It’s good to have long fingers and lots of practice getting her off.

It nicely stoked my subbie fire because her entire attitude was “make me come and make it fast” and she didn’t even touch me. It was reward enough to have her nipple in my mouth and a hand wet from her juices, though of course I was five time more frustrated afterward than before. At the very beginning of this adventure, I’d have laid awake for hours with all those hormones surging around, but I’ve developed the ability to actually fall asleep that way now. In fact, her orgasms make me sleepy in a way not unlike mine used to.

So anyway, yeah, I can fall asleep, but it’s a light, fitful sleep. All kinds of graphic mental images flashed though my mind as I drifted off, pleasantly full tube pressed into the bed. I dreamed the same way. Short sexual scenarios, none of which I can remember now, jumbled together like an Xtube montage. Belle, too, was tossing and turning and reaching out to me so that her touches mixed with what was in my head and I couldn’t really tell the difference between the dreams and the reality, wakefulness and sleep. Every little touch drove the tubal pressure up several notches, though it seemed like I had a boner all night long. At one point, she had her bare legs up against my naked ass. That odd, unexpected skin-on-skin contact was like jet fuel on a campfire.

Today, I’m still feeling it. The repressed sexual electricity is everywhere in my body and permeates my every thought and conversation. I feel simultaneously energized and powerful yet hopelessly distracted and nervous. To feel the spark and arc of abject desire with no outlet is almost like the perfect goal state for someone like me. Bathing in the hormonal high. I’m a total junkie.

And that makes me approach this weekend with a bit of apprehension. On the one hand, I want to come. It’s all I think about. I dream of having a real, free erection and the kick of ejaculation. On the other, I hate losing this. The energy, the excitement, feeling of being vibrant and alive. Regardless, I’m comfortable with whatever happens. I’ve given myself over her and I’ll either come like crazy or keep riding the wave. Honestly, they both sound great to me.