Today’s HNThumper is all about hard metal chomping down onto soft meat.
Porn For Me: That Hurts (via beyond the hills)
I hafta hafta hafta repost this from ranat. Sofuckinghot.
via beyond the hills
Kinky or no?
On a recent post, a reader left this comment:
Belle appears to be very serious about having things her way, which I think is wonderful. She should keep you locked up until you think it is kinky to be otherwise.
On the face of it, this might seem to be a fairly innocuous thing to say, but this same reader then went on (in another comment) and said I lacked “true submissive values” and that I demonstrated too much of a concern for my own pleasure and not enough for hers. You know, that same old bullshit. As a matter of fact, as any long-time reader of my blog knows, I do consider myself something of a selfish sub, but that’s not to say I’m still not a sub. Who in the hell wants a partner, submissive or otherwise, who seems to have no interest whatsoever in their own happiness? Isn’t one of the hot things about topping someone that you occasionally make them wait (or even refuse outright) that thing that they really want? Isn’t that part of the fucking dynamic? If they don’t really want anything other than to please you in some servile, pathetic way…then what?
And besides, I think it’s incumbent upon everyone to be mindful of their partner’s motivations and needs. You’ll just have to trust me on this, but I know my Belle. Better than any of you. She really wants me to have what I want. She wants to give me what I need. It’s just how she’s wired and it’s part of the complexity of structuring a D/s relationship since what I seem to want isn’t always what I say I want and she’s left to decide which she should be thinking about. For example, the other night I said to her that I really, really wanted to fuck her. Like, really. And, of course, that was true. But, what I really wanted, more than anything else at all, was for her to tell me I couldn’t. To refuse me the thing I had a very strong urge to do. Because she can and I like it when she does. See? Fucking complicated!
But whatever. I digress. The real point of this post was to mark the approach of one month locked up and how my dear reader’s comment has stuck with me.
I think she locked me up around July 6. That would make today my 29th day encumbered which, while not a record or anything, is the eve of a bit of a milestone worth noting. Oddly enough, I have no idea what my longest stint in a device is. Seems like the kind of thing I’d remember, but I don’t. I suppose it’s recorded here on the blog somewhere, but it’s not in my brain. I know it can’t be much longer than five or six weeks, though. I’ve either had to bail out due to physical damage or she’s decided she wanted to play with the contents or I’ve had to travel or something before it got much past that point. So anyway, I’m going to say that six weeks is the record duration just for conversation’s sake.
Will I be locked up longer than that? Well, she’s intimated that I may be locked up until our anniversary in mid-October. That’s still 10 or 11 weeks from now. I’ve never done anything close to 100 days in any device, so the prospect is exciting. However, she’s been coy about that and I haven’t been able to pin her down. Our anniversary might just be the next time she lets me come. Or maybe that’ll be this weekend. I honestly have no idea. I do think she’s heard Sarah’s “add 50% to whatever he says he wants” advice and is pondering it in application to me. I would be thrilled to be made to wait longer than my last longest orgasmless duration, but I’d also really want to fucking come way before then…see my earlier point about complication.
In any event, back to the comment. “She should keep you locked up until you think it is kinky to be otherwise.” While I certainly don’t think being unlocked is kinky, I can say that when I’m in and have been for a while (like now), it’s hard for me to imagine what being out and about is like. Plus, I get to a point where being locked seems both normal and natural for me. I like feeling like this, as hard as it is sometimes, and I like having even the possibility of sneaking in some quiet edging (or more) taken away from me. So, I start to think being locked is normal and natural and I get a happy, warm and even comforting feeling being that way. It’s at times like these that I totally understand that whole “being locked up for the rest of my life would be so fucking hot” thing.
It’s also when I actually do the opposite of what my dear reader wanted. Instead of thinking not being locked up is kinky, I stop considering being locked up as kinky. Like I said, it’s natural. It’s normal. It’s how I should be. So? And then I want to share it with people. I think it’s just human behavior to want to tell your friends when you’ve found something fantastic that’s changed your life. I wish I could find a way to explain it to them (some of them, anyway). But I can’t. Because even though I don’t think it’s kinky anymore, they do. And this isn’t some run of the mill relationship advice. This is my sex life. And I think it’s inappropriate to bring anyone into your sex life if they don’t want to be there. So I’m stuck.
Someday, maybe, after the consumption of alcohol perhaps, certain topics might come up in conversation that would allow me (or Belle, even) to share the secret in a way that seemed, at the very least, relevant. In the mean time, I’m exactly where I want to be. And it feels really good, whether or not it’s kinky.
Pure pleasure
As I mentioned in my previous post, the njoy Pure arrived yesterday. Mere happenstance brought me home early (no, I swear) so I had a chance to get it wet all by myself and then, because I liked it so much, I made use of it again later that night. Here are my thoughts.
Before I start, I admit I’m not this thing’s typical consumer. Chances are I’ll never have an orgasm while using it. All it does for me is allow an outlet for my need to feel further heights of stimulation while also coaxing backed-up fluid out of my reproductive system. Most guys, I assume, would be jacking off while using it which, naturally, would lead to a very different outcome than mine.
The out-of-the-box experience is quite good. Not Apple kind of good, but way better than the majority of sex toys on the market with which I have experience. This is a premium implement and it comes with a premium package. The case itself is a sturdy black plastic and contains a cut-out in the shape of the Pure and is lined with soft cloth. Closed, it’s very understated and could live in a nightstand without attracting any undo attention. Since the surface of the Pure is polished stainless, I’m glad they include such a nice box in which to store it. The thing itself is pretty indestructible, but I’m sure it would scratch easily rolling around in the toy box.
The wand is 8 inches from end to end and terminates with a one inch ball on side and a 1.5 inch ball on the other. The balls are offset so, on the inside of the wand’s curve, they have a bit of a lip to catch on the sensitive bits of whatever orifice in which you’ve put it. It weighs in at just over 1.5 pounds and that, plus the mirrored finish, give it a presence to be reckoned with. As soon as you take it out of the box, you know this is a serious tool.
I’ve purchased at least four implements purpose-built for stimulating the prostate and I have to say that the Pure puts them all to shame. I used it for about a half hour in the afternoon and maybe an hour later that night and the Pure allowed me to feel things I’ve just never felt before. This thing fucking rocks.
I started out with the smaller end to get things rolling. I found the one inch ball, on the narrower end of the wand, to be all about precision. Seriously, I just can’t say this enough. With the Pure, I can hit places I hardly could before and with a consistency that literally took my breath away. Once the party really got started, I moved to the larger end. This side is about gravitas. You can feel the density and mass of the thing as it rides up and over your prostate. This isn’t about tickling or teasing, it’s about rolling over stuff and teaching it who’s boss. I can’t really say I liked one end more than the other. They both have a role to play and I found myself switching back and forth.
For lubrication, I used Astroglide. The stainless is so smooth, you don’t need much. One of the things I’ve always (or nearly always) experienced in the past with using dildos is an irritation and sensitivity around my anus afterward. The Pure, though, isn’t about penetration. It’s like a laser-guided smart bomb compared to the typical dildo’s bunker-busting brute force action. Once inserted, you can focus entirely on the P-spot and forget everything else. For those with hang-ups about penetration, this could be a really good thing. But, for those times when you just want to feel like you’re getting fucked, it’s not the best choice.
In any event, this morning I woke with the definite feeling of having an itch I’ve already scratched too much but want to keep on scratching. Inside, I feel like I’ve been raped by a biker gang (you know, in the good way), while outside is nothing but perfectly pink pucker. The Pure provides for an amazingly comfortable ride, both during and after. I can still feel a subtle happy glow burning away in my colon even now and admit, unless Belle texts me to put an end to my fun, I know exactly what I’ll be doing again tonight once the kids are asleep.
Another interesting aspect of the Pure is the temperature-trapping qualities of the stainless steel. I can imagine a lot of interesting temperature play options with this thing. Holding it in your hand for a few seconds takes the chill off as it can be a bit cold at first. After a little while, though, it comes out hot in a way I found very satisfying. So much of this device’s success, for me, is how it plays with your senses. Feeling it slip out as hot as I was after using it made me love it that much more.
Clean up is, naturally, a snap. The steel is totally non-porous which means it can be used with any lube and easily comes clean in hot soapy water. It’s not unlike a fork that way…
As a milking device, it’s exceptional. My earlier session seemed to have moved most of the accumulated fluid out so that, by the time things really got rolling that night, there wasn’t much left. I’ve always been a dribble and squirt kind of milker, though, and have marveled at the guys who’ve demonstrated the gush of fluid that comes out in a long continuous stream. I’d never been close to that kind of event, but I think, had I still been juicy, it would have happend to me last night. After 30-40 minutes of stimulation, I felt something like an urge to pee, but different. I can’t really describe the sensation, but it felt like, had the system still been primed, it would have been evacuating its contents at that moment.
It’s not all pixies and sunshine, though. The smooth mirrored surface responsible for the terrific comfort also makes holding on to the thing something of a challenge when it’s wet. It’s hard to feel as though you have a really good grip on it. Also, the weight can be an issue. You can just use it and use it and, eventually, your hand’s going to get tired. Finally, it’s expensive. I paid $108 with free shipping at Eden Fantasys. However, I think its expense is easily justified when you consider it should last, literally, a lifetime. Combined with how fantastically it does its job, I think buying one is a no-brainer. Next to Belle’s little pink vibe and the Steelheart, this is among the best sex toy purchases I’ve ever made.
Rating: 4.5 little fuzzy bunny tails out of five
Permission
“Just so I’m clear,” I said, embracing Belle with my arms and legs and pressing my face into her right breast, “I’m allowed to fuck my ass and torture my nipples while you’re gone?”
“Yes,” she replied.
“How about my balls? Can I abuse my balls? Can I make them hurt?”
Silence.
“No, you can’t do that. You need something to look forward to for when I get back.”
“You’re right, Belle Fille. Thank you.”
—
Belle’s off to NYC until Thursday leaving me alone with permission to do the things I used to do anyway back when it was up to me. Sera said in a comment to a previous post, regarding Belle’s appropriation of just about every one of my physical outlets, “Glad to hear Belle is rejecting the myth that cock=male sexuality,” and I guess that is the best summary of what she’s done. I think even I had fallen into that trap.
I had been lobbying Belle for another chance to make her come on Sunday night since she’s going to be gone for most of the week and well past the 72 hour no-fly zone that follows her orgasms, but as I laid there and held her, even with a full tube and a quivering desire fluttering around in my chest, I felt very calm. I’ve felt this from time to time before and I should probably bookmark this post for when I stop feeling it in the future, but it was one of those crystal moments when I totally accepted my place and her power to decide what was going to happen. I think this is due to her flexing her control and the acquisition of her new powers. The number of technicalities I was able to carve wiggle room out of have been drastically diminished by her. It’s almost refreshing to know I can’t do anything to or with my body without her permission. In any event, it focuses the mind quite a bit.
Which, in fact, is all I have left: My mind. Of course, it would be very difficult for her to control that to such an extent that I couldn’t use it to at least work myself up (not that I think she wants to or that I want her to or that it would be in any way good for our relationship). I still have blanket permission to consume porn which, at this point, it purely a mental exercise. That’s just about the last thing I can do all on my own that involves sex. I suppose she could require that I ask permission before engaging in it, but I do so at a frequency I’m sure she’d find both alarming and annoying if I asked her each and every time. Maybe if I had to ask each day or something. I dunno. Maybe I shouldn’t even talk about it. Yeah, let’s change the subject…
Saturday night, I almost made her come without ever touching her pussy. In fact, I know I could have. It had been two and half weeks since my last opportunity (due mostly to my trip) and she was ready. I started out playing extra special attention to her nipples, licking and sucking each while rolling the other between my fingers. Her nipples are so wonderfully big when she’s really horny. I camped out. Her hips were digging into the bed forcefully before I pulled her pajama bottoms down.
But then, instead of moving right in and stroking her clit, I ran my fingers lightly over the skin and taut tendons to each side of her pussy. She moaned and purred like a kitten.
“Ohhh, you’re teasing me.”
“Yes. Yes I am.”
It was an unexpected reversal. She was so hot I know that if I had kept at it for 30 more seconds she would have exploded. But, as soon as I realized how close she was, I slipped my fingers onto her dripping clit. Turns out, I wanted to feel her pussy as much as she wanted me to. Seconds later, she was coming. My only regret was she was so worked up and she came so fast that my pussy time was incredibly short. She had a fantastic orgasm, though. I was up for hours, but she slept like a baby.
So anyway, the njoy Pure showed up today. I got home a little early and had time to myself to give it a spin. Short story so far is the thing is fan-fucking-tastic. I’m counting the minutes until I can play with it again.
And with that, I think I’ll go take advantage of my permission.
Don likes it rough
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w2_D9eYpSnk]
Just got around to watching last week’s Mad Men season 4 premiere. If you’re a fan, you were probably as surprised as I was to see Don ask a hooker to slap him around. True, we’ve seen him play with bondage when he tied up Bobbie whatshername (and then leave her like that), but who the hell knew he bottomed? Anyone else get all fluttery when he asked her to hit him harder? The way his eyes close after the third slap? Yeah, that’s the stuff…
I’m sorry…where was I? Oh, yeah. First of all, the coverage over his desire to be abused (with the woman on top, no less) has been a little breathless. Kinky? Really? OK, fine, I guess. But is Don really kinky? Already the post-show analysis bloggers seem to be suggesting the scene has another meaning. For example, Slate said this:
[I]s there more meaning here—is his desire to take a beating a manifestation of his guilt about the indiscretions that ruined his marriage?
Yes, I know, he’s a complicated dude with a complicated, compartmentalized life, but seriously!? If this turns into some kind of bullshit psychological crap I’m going to be very disappointed. Some guys, you know, just like to get the shit beat out of them. Some guys like it to hurt. Wouldn’t it be so much more refreshing to see a character with real masochistic tendencies (I suppose it would be too much to ask to see his upturned ass reddened with a crop) as opposed to just another media misrepresentation of the mentally ill abuse victim?
Eminent domain
In the beginning, I gave Belle the cock. Not only the cock, but everything associated with it including my balls, all the fluids they produced, and any opportunity to use those things to achieve sexual pleasure. So, it made some sense that she’d then – just last week – claim control over my ass. It is, after all, how I gain access to my prostate which is yet another part of the system I had already given to her. No, I hadn’t specifically given her that very special gland, but it is an integral part of the rest and so closely related to the production of the system’s output and my sexual pleasure, that I’m sure any court would have agreed and said she was well within her rights to regulate my access to it.
But how can I square all that with her latest land grab? Last night, she told me I wasn’t allowed to play with my nipples without her permission (where, of course, “play with” means “torture”, “abuse”, and “reduce to quivering puddles of painful pleasure”). So yeah, what’s up with that? They’re, like, two feet (or something) from the cock and not physically connected in any way. Well, except for how what happens to them directly affects the status of the cock and how much of the tube’s interior volume it’s trying to occupy. And how the pain stimulus feeds some kind of direct endorphine-like current deep into my brain in such a way as to make my mouth go slack and my eyes defocus. And how, even as the most intensely torturous, twisty, biting and burning abuse I think the plump pink meat can stand before ripping right off my body is inflicted upon them, not only is the sensation immediately converted to raw pleasure but I’m driven to stretch their tender and bruised little beings right back into the waiting jaws of the vicious little clamps I got from fucking Old Navy, of all places, and…and…*GASP!*
Yeah. OK. I can see her point. She’s not just in control of the cock or the ass or the nipples or, in fact, any one physical aspect of my body. She’s claiming control over every expression of my sexuality. And yes, as she points out, this is the logical extension of what I wanted when I first gave her the cock. What else should I expect? If she’s going to do it, she may as well do it right.