I was in, I was out, I’m back in again.
She took me out last weekend and, as usual, I had no idea it was going to happen. She fucked me (or, I should say, let me fuck her) and apparently I was supposed to go back in the next day, but she neglected to follow-up in the morning so I didn’t and by the time she mentioned it that night I gave her kind of a face or something so she said something about taking a break. I took that to mean we were taking a break, but she didn’t, so I was apparently breaking the rules for a week or so.
Thing is, I had just come, so my inclination for incarceration was quite low. In these situations, I might know instinctively what I’m supposed to do, but I find reasons not to absent her firm hand. So, in any event, I was out and about for the week until Monday when she told me I would, in no uncertain terms, be going back in. But not before she let me come again. So, I’m back in, but my head’s not as I’m still recovering from the post-orgasmic subdrop (two in seven days!).
Truth be told, I’m happier when the cock’s locked up. It’s what feels normal and natural now. Being out feels like I’m getting away with something and just leaves me feeling a little out of balance. Regardless, I wasn’t inclined to put myself back in without her explicit direction. And that’s the other part of what feels normal and natural (and happier). I am, again, being “maintained” and cared for. I have her attention. And that makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside.
She was giving me shit about it last night. Wanting to know if I was suffering, etc. Come on, I said, it’d only been one day. How much suffering could there be? But, she said, she liked knowing I was squirming. She liked knowing my exact condition. And, she says, she likes me better in the steel.
So, I’ve been out (it seems) quite a bit lately. Also, it seems as though I’ve been coming a lot (though in reality, it’s hardly at all — that I’d ever think a couple of times a month was a lot says much about how I’ve changed). Next week, we head to tropical paradise for a week where she’s already said I’ll be out of the device for the whole trip (even the parts when I don’t have to be out for national security purposes). If past is prologue, I can probably expect some more orgasming. And the thing is, I don’t want any of it. I don’t want the cock to be free for any longer than it has to be and I don’t want to come. Not at all. Not for a really long time. I know I can’t wear the thing on the plane and I know there will be activities that will require I remove it and I know she’ll probably get frisky and want a romp and I know (I really do) that it’s all up to her in the end, but I also know that I, too, like me better when I’m starved for orgasm and without access to the meat.
I crave desperately to be back in that deprived state, craving desperately the thing I don’t want to have. Regardless, I’ll do what she says. If I get to come, I’ll enjoy it. If I stay out for the week, I’ll probably enjoy that, too. But that doesn’t mean I can’t hope for the other options. She and I both know it makes me a better man.