I’ve been back in the device for just over two weeks straight (not counting the 20-30 minutes I was out on Saturday morning). My last orgasm was about two and a half weeks ago (you know, the unfortunate incident). Normally, at this point, I’d be really worked up, but I’m not for some reason. Also, I’m usually loving the feel of the device and really into it. But…I’m not so much that, either. The device hasn’t slipped into that “part of me” feeling at all. I’m always quite aware that there’s this thing on me no matter where I go and no matter what I do.
I’m not sure why this is. When she put me back in it, I remarked that I felt like now I had to be locked up or I’d jack off and squirt without permission. Before, I was a willing accomplice and, for at least some of the time, wanted to not come more than she didn’t want me to come. But now it’s required. I’m untrustworthy. Somewhere in my head, a screw has made a quarter turn and I’m one of those guys. Yes, of course, it’s all still consensual. But I’m locked up now more because she wants me to be than because I want to be.
Case in point. Last week sometime, I started to think about a break and how nice that would be. A week or two or four of being like everyone else. I could go unencumbered and play with myself whenever the mood struck. Gosh, what if I wanted to come every day? Even when it was just a little dribble into the sink. Wouldn’t that be great?
And now I’m like, what? Yeah, OK, I admit I want to jack off and I’ve love to come, but a break? Aren’t we defined now by this arrangement? Isn’t it a cornerstone of our sex life? Didn’t I give her the penis forever and always? Yes, of course. But still. The idea was appealing. I even almost brought it up. And it wouldn’t be like usual when what I really want is to hear her say no. Had I mentioned it, I would have really wanted it. Had she said no, I would have been disappointed.
But the thing is, this is what I wanted, right? Isn’t this the hottest fantasy of all the chastity wankers? The woman who locks you up even when you want out. Who keeps you from yourself and your pleasure at exactly those times when you really want it. So who am I to complain? And who’s idea is all this anymore? Right now and for the past few weeks, given a choice, I’d want out. I’d want to come. But she’s not letting me. Even though my sleep continues to suffer and I appear somewhat miserable about it, the idea of letting me out has never crossed her lips. She’s liked the idea of me being locked up for a long time now, but what changed is she wants me that way and what I want doesn’t really matter to her.
So here I set. Locked up. Kinda horny. Not really loving it. But exactly as I’m supposed to be.