Month: July 2012

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Kidless morning

We’re kidless for the next six days. The boy went to camp last weekend for two weeks and the girl went today for a week. Of course, we will miss them. But still. No kids. A week. Imagine.

Personally, I expect to be naked a lot more than usual. This isn’t a sexual thing. It’s just how I prefer being. I’ve been naked most of the day (and am now) and the recent spat of nice weather has left the windows open and the gentle breeze rustling through my exposed body hair. There are few things better than that feeling (and it’s only improved upon by the combination of sunlight heating the skin at the same time).

Belle got back from dropping the girl off and we sat in bed, her reading the Times and me on my computer (having already pawed through the paper earlier). Her, fully clothed, me buck naked (except for the steel). We took a nap. Well, Belle took a nap. I tried to take a nap but couldn’t fall fully asleep. I let her sleep while I poked around on my phone.

Once awake, we laid there and snuggled and kissed and discussed the Jail Bird I’ve had on since yesterday. It’ll be going back to MM next week for the locking screw modification and I’m wearing it for a few days to make sure the fit and finish is all good. I have to say, even with the bulky lock in place, this device is loads better than the last one I wore. I’ll have lots more to say on this, of course, but the addition of the double A-ring has made it a much more comfortable device. The ring looks to be pretty much exactly the same size as the Steelheart’s, though it’s slightly ovoid and, with the double rings, much wider. Since the rings are 1/4″ wide, I had MM make the new cage a 1/4″ shorter than the last. Also, though I didn’t ask for this, MM put the locking post up on the ring so the top of the cage lines up with the top of the ring. (Lots more on the alignment of the cage and ring of a stock Jail Bird here.) Short story, I’m really digging the new JB and could imagine doing serious time in it. The old one, I could barely wear overnight.

Belle, though, doesn’t like the looks of it as much as she does the Steelheart. They are of two different aesthetics, that’s for sure. Belle said it was the difference between Apple and Dell, though I don’t think that’s entirely fair. The JB still has the Masterlock on it which, to my eye, ruins the lines of the thing. The bulky black square of the lock sticking off to once side does make it appear much more utilitarian and less sleek than the Steelheart. That’ll all be fixed soon enough, though.

Anyway, laying there, appraising my steel, kissing, etc. In another time, I’d be annoying and all over her trying to get into her pants. Even now, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to, but I have been consciously trying to find satisfaction in how my frustration and desire resonates in me. Yes, I did want her. Badly. Her mouth tasted heavenly and the feeling of her soft, full lips on mine was intoxicating. Literally made me light-headed. But I wasn’t trying to be pushy. I wasn’t trying to make anything more than what was happening happen. I was enjoying my nakedness and her warmth and the time we were having.

“OK, fine,” she said, “You can give me an orgasm but then I have things to do.”

I was a little hurt. Her words and movement suggested I was being annoying. As if she was finally relenting so she could leave and be productive. I tried to tell her that wasn’t my intention, but she didn’t seem to believe me. I would have debated the point further, but by this time her pants were off and other things were jockeying for my attention. I remember thinking I may as well indulge if she was going to lay out the goodies.

I sucked and fingered her breasts and felt her hips gyrate as my caged manhood pressed into her. As I put my fingers into her hot wetness, I started to kiss her. I made a special point to make this more romantic. More like love making rather than just sex. I wanted her to know how much I loved her and appreciated the access she was giving me.

Eventually, as her snatch became more and more lubricated and her hips more and more animated, she pulled her mouth away and put her head back, visibly retreating into the pleasure I was giving her. This is my signal to stop and just get her the fuck off. I moved my face back to her breasts and concentrated on her movements and reactions to what I was doing. Finally, she pressed my hand down hard onto her pussy with hers and brought her other arm around my neck and squeezed. The Jail Bird was bursting with caged meat as I felt the pale echo of her orgasm washed over her.

After, as she was slowly uncoiling in afterglow, the knot of passion was still high in me. I forced it into neutral so as not to ruin her moment. Then, as she basked, I palpably felt the knot release in me. I hadn’t come. Of course I hadn’t. But somehow, my body responded to her afterglow. The frantic desire I held within fell back. Then again. Then I, too, was glowing. A kind of post-orgasmic warmth without the orgasm.

I thanked her for her orgasm. She said I was welcome. Then I held her, sleepily, until she decided that was enough. Then I wrote this.

I’ve included a sneak-peek of the new Jail Bird after the jump for those interested in such things.

Continue reading “Kidless morning”

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Leakage

One of the nice things about where I sit at my job is that I’m in an office with my screen facing away from the door. That’s convenient since I will sometimes tend the porn farm while on the clock. I don’t feel especially guilty about that since the clock is mine.

So yesterday, I was filling a few minutes before I needed to leave for a client meeting with a little Tumblr trolling and, I admit, got pretty worked up. It’s been about three weeks since Belle let me come, so no surprise there. I finished queuing up the smut, gathered my things, and walked out of the office (confident that the confines of the Steelheart made the still-stiff penis no more visible than usual). On my way out, I stopped off at the men’s room for a leak.

There’s a specific way this works when one’s penis is in a steel tube. On the way in, I grabbed a bit of paper towel to absorb excess liquid I’d shake out when finished. As the end of the stream approached, a different sensation took its place. Something akin to the feeling of needing to pee, but without the pressure of a bladder full of urine behind it. Very similar to what I feel when milking myself. It was the feeling of an engorged prostrate needing some relief.

Once the peeing was done, I bore down and flexed the internal muscles used for ejaculating. They’re a bit out of shape, but about three moderate slugs of milky goodness oozed down the penis and slowly, like ketchup leaving a bottle, dripped out of the tube. I held the towel to the opening and shook it, catching more of the silky substance.

Upon exiting my vehicle at my client’s office, I felt the distinct and tell-take cold trickle of more ejaculate on my left thigh. As I walked up to her office, I felt more of the stuff. I tried to make a few furtive glances down to see if the goo was soaking through my pants but didn’t see anything. We had our meeting. It was uneventful except that I kept thinking about the stuff on my leg.

Once it was over, I stopped in again at the men’s room on the way out. My pants showed nothing, but once I released the device from my underwear, I was hit by the pungent smell of male ejaculate. My balls were slimy with the stuff. Still have no idea how it dripped down my leg. I cleaned up the best I could, pulling on the tube and craving the ability to well and truly empty its contents, and then left.

The funny thing about this is that, yes, it was annoying and potentially embarrassing, but it’s also somehow exhilarating and fun. No, I would really rather not have my female client see a stream of semen soaking though the leg of my jeans, but being put into the position where it might happen was, I admit, kind of exciting. It’s not entirely unlike those times when the tube of the device is visible between my legs. I’m actually totally over that as a source of angst and take little action to disguise it. Am I unfairly pulling people into my kink whether they like it or not? Or am I just being who I am and letting them process what they glimpse in whatever way they like?

Hard to say.

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Mailbag

Matt Cook hasn’t had an orgasm in seven months, and he hopes never to intentionally have one again.

Now that’s an opening line. Certainly one that will grab my attention. It comes (ahem) from an article found by the inimitable Tom Allen in which the practice of Karezza is described. Kareeza, also know as “coitus reservatus”, is described by Wikipedia as “a form of sexual intercourse in which the penetrative partner does not attempt to ejaculate within the receptive partner, but instead attempts to remain at the plateau phase of intercourse for as long as possible avoiding the seminal emission.”

The article on Matt Cook wasn’t the first time I’d heard of Karezza, though. I received the following from reader Athena an embarrassingly long time ago:

I would be very appreciative to read a mans view, in particular your view regarding “Coitus Reservatus” or aka Karezza. I’m requesting this because you’re very gifted at expressing yourself in a manner that is easily understandable for your Female readers.

I want to approach the topic with my boyfriend, as I’ve been researching the practice lately. But finding contemporary and relative articles has been a challenge.

Would you agree that Karezza can be, for some the next step in the progression of chastity within a relationship?

I’m not sure I’d compare Karezza to enforced male chastity for a couple of reasons. First, chastity is, as we practice it, more than incidentally about power exchange. It’s a form of BDSM. Karezza, as I understand it, has no element of power exchange whatsoever. The man willingly controls his orgasm to promote the “deepest human affection.” Secondly, it sounds is if there is regular penetration by the man (and some kind of preternatural ability to avoid orgasm on his part). In my experience, the penis rarely gets wet, especially for recreational fucking without possibility of orgasm (alas). Of course, the end product of both is similar. The girl comes and the guy doesn’t. The resulting feelings and attitude of the man are likely very similar, but the getting there is all different.

But that doesn’t mean I disagree with you that it (or some form of it) could be a “next step in the progression of chastity within a relationship” for some. Honestly, I’ve felt for a while now that I was doing this chastity thing all wrong. I want to be denied. I do not want to come. Oh, I do, from time to time, get the urge and feel the need and she does let me, but immediately afterward I invariably wish I hadn’t. Even as I’m building toward the orgasm, in the back of my head I’m hoping she won’t let me. In all the hawt chastity porn, the man is desperate for orgasm all the time and his evil wife is constantly dangling the possibility out there but rarely letting him have it. That’s not me. I want to be denied and denied and denied. I’ve felt this way for a long time and, I recall, when I first said on this blog that I didn’t like having an orgasm as much as not having one, some readers suggested I was Doing It Wrong. Perhaps my denial has led me to a place not unlike where practitioners of coitus reservatus find themselves. Like Matt, I’d be happy if Belle told me I would never intentionally come again.

So yeah, the idea of coitus reservatus does appeal to me, but the lack of any kind of domination or submission doesn’t. I am where Matt Cook is, mostly. But I still want the D/s, bondage, and masochism. I’m a kinky bastard, after all.

Anonymous said:

After few months with playing with CB-6000 and some doubts, my wife came to conclusion, that she like benefits of using chastity device (short term, not permanent), but not the device itself. Reason – tube-like shape and imagination of everything inside swollen, sweaty, and without much ventilation, works for her rather as a turn off. We looked for some cage-like devices, but I still don’t get it – how to take it off with full erection, while most of them (all?) has closed, one-piece rings? I know the ordinary method (one potato, two potato, weenie to get in, and backwards to take it off), but HOW, when my precious member, when full erected, is pointing straight at my face, when I look at him? is it even possible to take off the ring with an erection?

If the ring is fitted correctly, you can’t get it off when you’re hard. Impossible. But, (again) if it’s fitted correctly, you probably don’t really need to. At least that’s my experience. The A-ring of the Steelheart, when left on, is like an almost but not quite too tight cockring. It has the benefit of making the penis’ erection a tad larger and it gives me a bit more staying power (plus, it’s kinda uncomfortable which pushes my masochism buttons). I’m not sure that a device without the integrated lock would work as well, though. My Jail Bird has a post sticking out for the lock to engage the cage and, while we’ve never tried it, it’s likely that the post would poke Belle.

My advice: Figure out a way to get the ring off before you’re too hard and/or make a fun little game of defeating the erection so the ring can come off (bag of ice water on the cock, for instance).

Beth said:

I’ve never commented but I’ve enjoyed reading your blog immensely for the last year or two. I was hoping I could get a piece of advice. I’m a lady in a 5+ year relationship with a handsome gentleman- I’d say he’s a switch/sub and I’m a sub/switch. We’ve been doing light BDSM play for 2-3 years now but in a couple of weeks we’ve decided to try a 24 hour power exchange since it’ll be the first time we’ll see each other in 3 months (!). I’ll be domming but as we’ve never done anything like this for more than an hour or 2 I figured I’d ask if you had any particular “care and keeping” advice.

From our earlier play I know some of the standard considerations (plenty of conversations ahead of time, sit down in an uncharged situation before to revisit soft/hard limits, yellow/red safeword system, have quick access necessary safety equipment (trauma shears for rope play, etc), plenty of downtime afterward to process and recharge and snuggle) but a scenario of this length is new territory for both of us and I imagine there are things I haven’t thought of. Should I try to break scene every few hours to check in or is that too disruptive to the “subspace”? We’re both very much looking forward to this and I just want to make sure it goes as smoothly as is reasonable to expect.

Beth, to me it sounds like you’re doing everything right. All that communication up front is so critical and it sounds like you’ve done it in spades. With regard to breaking the scene, if I were in his position and had the requisite safewords, etc., I wouldn’t want you too. The more time spent deeply in the subspace, the better.

Your handsome gentleman is lucky to have such a thoughtful and considerate top.

John said:

Recently got in to chastity with my partner. Actually, he complained about my spanking the monkey too much and sort of took matters into his own hands. I am currently locked in a Bon4. Hoping for a jailbird or steel heart soon. I had reservations at first, but have since found it fucking awesome to hold back. The longest time so far is 5 days. He teases me mercilessly while i am locked up. We had to do some experimentation with different ring sizes, lubes, underware, etc., but thanks to the advise on your blog, things have improved significantly. Just wanted to say thanks for the awesome blog, and keep up the good work.

Have I mentioned how hot I find the idea of gay male chastity? Sweet Jesus. I’m glad things are going well for you guys, John. Send pictures. Really.

I apologize to those who sent in feedback. It took me far too long to get to it all this time around.

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How I should be

Got home Saturday after three days on the road. I love these trips, but the getting there and back is grueling. Before the sun went down, Belle was already saying I needed to go back in to the steel. Not until Sunday, though.

Sunday morning, she was up early getting the boy ready to leave for camp. I wanted some fun, but it wasn’t to be. By midmorning, I had the Steelheart back in place. But, you may be thinking, didn’t I have a new Jail Bird waiting for me? Yes, I did, but it wasn’t right. I ordered it with a security screw and it came with a hole for a regular little padlock. I tried it with the one and only little padlock we still have from the old CB6K days but it was one of those black Masterlocks with the plastic shell and it made the unit too bulky. It was quite visible poking through my sweats. Also, I’m not a big fan of the way the lock sits sideways on the JB.

I don’t really consider the screw omission to be Mature Metal’s fault entirely. The order started as an email exchange about getting a new base ring, the more observant of you might remember, and it evolved into a whole new device after several messages sent back and forth. We ended up using a non-standard channel for the order and they missed a detail. Had it gone through their site, I’m sure it would have been right. In any event, it’s going back to get screwed.

By Sunday night, Belle and I had found some personal time. Naked, I laid close to her with my head down on her chest while she fingered my sack and basically drove me crazy. She asked me how I was doing being back in and I, in that state with that sensation, would have told her anything. I said I was glad to be back in. I was happier that way. I told her how I never got used to having a normal penis during the trip. Each time I took a leak it felt weird handling a soft flap of meat rather than a steel tube. And in the morning, the unencumbered erection was a distraction. I felt like I was cheating somehow. It was wrong. She told me I was suited to being locked up. That it was how I should be. Then she let me get her off.

When it was over, I was amazingly turned on. The tube throbbed with beat of my heart, bit into my nascent erection and pulled on my nuts. I wanted…something. Not to be out, but to be out. Not to fuck her, but to fuck her. Not to come, but to come. All the conflicting and otherwise contradictory urges that come with the denial of orgasm.

I’m on my third day back in the steel and it feels like I was never out. Belle’s right. This is how I should be.

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Popular culture

Three things before I depart for the Great Western Mountains.

The Advocate has an article on a new book detailing Mick Jagger’s sexcapades:

Legendary Rolling Stones frontman Mick Jagger has long been regarded as a notorious ladies man, but a new biography claims he’s also been intimate with late bandmate Brian Jones, David Bowie, Rudolf Nureyev, and, excuse us, Eric Clapton, as well as an attempted tryst with Geraldo Rivera.

First off, this is a surprise to who, exactly? Mick is the consummate bisexual and I thought everyone in the world knew it. I admit, though, that the Geraldo thing totally squicked me out.

Jagger and late legendary ballet dancer Nureyev  “playfully trapping journalist Geraldo Rivera in the middle of a sexual sandwich at a party;” Rivera claims that this was Mick’s serious attempt to seduce him.

Oh, I see. Mick and stone cold fox Nureyev decide to have a little fun pulling the pompous straight dude’s chain and suddenly he thinks he’s a genuine target of their affection. Don’t get me wrong, Gerlado was a good looking dude in his youth, but I suspect he was always a bit of a prick.

Then, on the Facebook, Start Trek: The Next Generation (who I follow because I’m a nerd) asked, “Which Star Trek: The Next Generation character did you have a crush on?” And I thought about it. For a second I almost said Picard what with his calm commanding demeanor and fantastic flute talents. Make it so, indeed. But then I decided it was, of course, Worf.

Klingons, it turns out, like it rough. Biting is a prominent feature of their mating rituals and that weird chair thing in his quarters was an obvious BDSM prop. Of course, I’m talking about Worf from later seasons when he let his hair grow out and had that Samuari thing going on. Not first season Worf. Too skinny. Too “dead crab on the forehead” for me.

Thinking about it, ST:TNG didn’t have many really sexual female characters. Not like the original series, anyway. Uhura? Oh hell yes. Hail me, baby. Dr. Crusher? No thank you. Actually, I just remembered that episode when Beverly goes back for her grandmother’s funeral and lays on the whole Scottish lass thing and gets telepathic orgasms from a sexy entity who lives in a candle. So OK, maybe Crusher, though her whole “mom vibe” is still pretty strong. Diana? Please. Too touchy-feely. And those creepy black eyes. Shudder. Also, her and Worf. I’m jealous.

Thinking about it even more, am I the only guy who wondered if the holodeck had a lock on the door? Because I’d be running all kinds of personal programs in there in my off-dudy hours. I’d be staggering out all bruised and sweaty. Honestly, I’m surprised they ever got anything else done. Like all other cool technology, I assume the holodeck was invented by the porn industry.

Finally, of course, there’s Anderson Cooper. Turns out he’s gay. Shocking, I know, but I have a long standing and well known thing for the steely eyed elfin newsman. It’s nice to see I can put him on my celebrity fantasy list along with Zachary Quinto and Doogie Howser. And Mick Jagger, I guess. 1968 Mick, that is. I know it’s a fantasy list so I should be able to put anybody I want on it, but I like to keep it minimally plausible. So yeah, 1968 Mick.

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Fireworks

So it’s true, sports fans. The bunny did come over the holiday weekend. Once on Thursday inside Belle and once again the next day all over my stomach (with Belle in attendance, however).

She let me out in the morning and yet again chose not to get herself off on the penis and opted for my fingers. Once done, she let me go inside and have at it. I tried so hard to make it last. I felt very confident that I would. That I was in control and would have enough time to really enjoy the old-fashioned sex, but my mind started inserting images and thoughts into my head. The fact that Belle hadn’t needed the penis to get off and that it was usually locked up, forgotten, and unnecessary. That it and my ability to control it was a shadow of what once was since, of course, I have essentially no control over it at all anymore. That lack of control is what makes it such a worthless object for Belle. There’s really no way to stop the orgasm. I can’t stop it. It’s coming already…right now…there. Done. Well less than a minute and I was copiously pumping nearly six weeks of pent up ejaculate into Belle. It felt like it was over before it even started.

The next morning Belle wasn’t really interested in anything but allowed me to jack off next to her in bed. Again, I wanted it to last so I could at least really enjoy the build up to an actual climax as opposed to the stopping and retreat that normally happens when I have access to the penis. And again, while I lasted longer than before, it was over so soon. Just a hair trigger it all that remains (at least so soon after I get out).

Friday night, she asked me how I felt. Pretty flat, to be honest. Orgasm is a massive let-down now, though at least I’ve already started to feel the build-up again. The floppy-floppy weirdness of the penis will wear off in a few days (along with the odd jellyfish-like gelatinous nature of my nuts – they’re so much more orderly when trapped by a steel ring).

Next we’re in an interesting period. The boy and I head out later this week to go camping on the west coast. We won’t be home until the 21st. Based on the conditions we’ll be in and the lack of essential privacy, I won’t be able to go with the Steelheart on. It needs to much hygienic maintenance. But, if the new Jail Bird arrives in time, it’s possible I could wear that. It wouldn’t be to keep me from doing anything since the lack of hygiene privacy will mean no masturbatory privacy, either. It’s really more about the control thing. Even when it’s not necessary, it’s there. All the time, it’s there. That’s what we both want. But, if the JB doesn’t land before I leave, it’ll just mean one or the other will go on as soon as I get home.

Now that I’ve come (and assuming she won’t let me do it again before I leave), I’m thinking about the next time it might happen. Belle likes to attach these occurrences to holidays or holiday-like events. My birthday is close to Labor Day, so that’s a possibility. In mid-October is our anniversary. Closer in, there’s a couple of weeks here and there when both kids will be absent at camp or visiting relatives. Those are also viable options. Or, since she’s reading this and knows I know how it works, she might skip over all those options entirely. Or she may not care and pick one anyway. In either event, I won’t know very far in advance and will have little choice.