Back in March, I posted HNThumper XV to the portfolio. Since then, it’s been reblogged by five six people and liked by six others. Certainly, as Tumblr porn goes, those numbers are quite modest but I find it interesting that it seems as though the guys reblogging it don’t get that that’s not me filling out my jeans in such an impressive manner. One guy added the comment, “Damn this is too hot for words!” I don’t necessarily disagree with him. I also find it very hot. But, that ain’t no cock behind the demin.
That particular picture is a worst case scenario with regard to how the device looks under pants. I guess, looking at it out of context, it does look like a big fat penis. Since I know what it is (in fact, am what it is), it’s hard for me to see it as anything other than a big steel tube. While I have more or less gotten over worrying what people think when they catch a glimpse of the occasional bulge in my crotch, it’s comforting to know that, at least sometimes, they’re just assuming I have a really big dick. I suppose that’s because the truth is so far outside most people’s experience that they can’t imagine it’s anything else (plus, you know, who doesn’t want a really big dick?).
In related exhibitionist news, this site’s been getting a record amount of traffic in the past month or so. I can’t tell how I compare to others in the blogosphere, but the numbers are getting big enough that it’s making me pause to gape at them. Back in the day, I’d get a few hundred views a day and just be happy I wasn’t talking into an empty box. Now, I can tell there a number of people are reading the entire blog every day (I assume they’re new to the site) and July’s traffic will be higher than any month before.
I don’t say this to brag or anything. There’s a part of me that would rather those numbers stop growing because the more people who discover this little corner of depravity the higher the likelihood, while still very small, that someone I know will figure out it’s me. If that ever happens, my only wish would be for the discoverer to tell me they know. I don’t actually like having this alter ego and secrets I need to protect. I’d rather be open and honest, though not to the point that I’ll volunteer details of my sexual proclivities for no reason.
There’s also nagging in the back of my mind the fact that I’m playing to an audience now. At what point do I stop being a person on a virtual soapbox saying whatever comes to mind to whoever happens to stop to listen and start being aware of all your eyeballs looking back? Yeah, of course, I always knew you were lurking out there, but for some reason there’s a difference between 100, 500, 1,000, and 25,000. I only wish I had something more profound to share with all you peepers (which is not a passive-aggressive prompt for you to comment how profound you think my blather is).
In assturbation news, Belle’s allowed me to purchase an njoy Pure Wand (see what I did there?). I had previously purchased a G-Force for p-spot play, but have found its floppy tendencies somewhat annoying. I have been able to use it with some success, but, since it’s made of silicone, it’s sometimes hard to practice any kind of precision. The Pure Wand, being solidly made of my favorite material, should prove to be much easier to control and a more productive prostate juicer.
Even though it’s not really a fucking tool, Belle says I still need to ask her permission before I get to use it. I had thought she only wanted me to tell her when I was craving a healthy reaming and that something like the G-Force, or soon the Pure Wand, would be allowable under the “clinical” definition she has established, but it now appears as though I’ll need ask permission before I shove anything up my ass at any time for any reason.
The occasions when that happened used to be private, of course. I admit there’s an amount of embarrassment I feel in needing to go to her for permission beforehand, but there’s also a lovely warm feeling of being that much more controlled by her. Bonus points that it was entirely her idea. It’s yet another aspect of my previously personal sex life that’s been exposed to and is now “managed” by her.
In short, I’d say things are going swimmingly for us at the moment. I fell asleep last night with my head on her stomach and my arm wrapped around her waist while she caressed my back and watched TV. It was a simple moment and, to an outsider, a fairly innocent position to be in, but it made my inner sub hum with satisfaction. I know there will be good times and bad and that now is just an exceptionally good one, but I’m not sure she could make me any happier than I was as I dozed there.
It’s good to be Belle’s Thumper.