Arm day today. Did 140 bicep curls for the girls (and a certain percentage of the boys).
And yeah, I know it’s not Thursday.
More HNThumpers here. Read all about Half-Nekkid Thursday over at Osbasso’s.
Piece of ass
Then I found myself completely alone for hours. Kid one is at prom(!), kid two is at a movie with a friend, Belle’s in China. And here I am, by myself without even man’s best friend to keep me company. No, not the dog. He’s here. I was talking about the penis.
So I thought it might be time for some good old-fashioned ass-pounding prostate milking. Alas, no real men have raised their hands for the job so I’m left to my own devices. The devices in question being the growing assortment of dildos and plugs at my disposal. (Not Belle’s, of course. Those are for her.)
I’ll spare you the details and say only that it was a good night. I was able to go to town on a dildo I’ve had for many years and had acquired as the result of my eyes being bigger than my anus. The beast is 10″ long and has a circumference of 7 1/4″. And I rode that fucker long and hard. All because I had time and was patient, used plenty of lube, and worked my way up with smaller dongs first. Note, some of those ten inches were wasted as there’s just not that much room inside me, but I bet I got more than seven inches of it.
The milking was successful. I produced prodigious quantity of clear, sticky precum which dripped and hung off the Jail Bird in long ropes that swung around with the rhythm of the action that was forcing them out. I also made a smaller quantity of milky ejaculate (without the ejaculation, of course).
The main reason I mention this is because near the end of the evening’s activities when I was astride that giant dong in a position not unlike a reverse cowgirl and the satisfaction of the sensation was humming through my entire body and my prostate was zinging with electricity, I had this feeling that everything would be so much better if I could stroke myself as I was fucked. And, way in the back of my brain from a dark little corner, I heard a tiny voice.
You can back out of the Jail Bird.
And I was like, You know, I could.
And this is what happens to a guy. When you juice him up real good and either tease him to pudding or fuck him until he’s a quivering jellyfish, he is no longer thinking with his brain. Like you need me to tell you that. I defy any guy who hasn’t come in three months to basically have sex with himself for ninety minutes and not almost lose his shit like I did.
Almost.
After I had had my fill of King Dong, my calmer head prevailed. I knew what I had to do — bring out the big gun. I retrieved the Steelheart. But even that caused conflict because part of me said I should make sure I get nice and clean in my post-workout shower by taking the Jail Bird off and not putting the Steelheart on until I was done. Because, you know, nothing untoward has ever happened in a soapy hot shower. And I really should be as cleans as possible. Belle would want that, right?
I ended up putting the Steelheart on before the shower. After, I went looking for a solution to the free key issue. I needed to get that thing out of my reach. The key safe will only fit one key at a time so I resorted to using a little envelope and taping it closed with the date from today’s paper firmly affixed. Then I stuck it under Belle’s statue.
I’m not saying I would have pulled out at some point or used the key to take the device off and leave it that way long enough to get in trouble. In fact, I was good and didn’t do what I’m expressly forbidden from doing and was able to control myself. But placing the key out of reach gives me piece of mind to go along with the piece of ass I had earlier. And I need that right now.
Mailbag
Rob writes…
First of all, my compliments on your blog. Me and my wife started experimenting with tease and denial and chastity in December 2013. Looking for info on the web, I found your blog. I started at the first post, and have read almost everything up to April 2010 so far. I find it very helpful to read the process you and Belle have been trough and the experiences you have. I see a lot of similarities (but also some dissimilarities).
I feel like a lucky man that my wife wants to give this a try. In general I get the idea she likes it, and that is also what she tells me. But everything is very new to her, and actually to me to. One of the things is that she find it hard to make it difficult for me. She likes to please me as well. I like that too, a lot, but I crave denial and I rather want to please her, and that she loves to be pleased, while I am being denied. I tell her many times, but I get the idea that she doesn’t fully understand my desires. I guess this also has to evolve over time.
Above sounds like it is only about what I want, and not what she wants. When I ask her, the answer is more general like us being happy together (which we are, very much).
I offered her to find a good book on the subject. She really liked the idea. What we are am looking for is a book that explains to her how male submissiveness works, more on a psychological way. Why do want men to be submissive, are they really happy that way, etc…
Also something on how to dominate a man, how to start, how to expand and different styles of femdom. We are not looking for a book describing only Ds-games/scenario’s. Although this will be helpful, she is also very creative.
Do you have a good suggestion for a book?
On your blog, you wrote something about Uniquely Rika. Is this a book you can recommend for starters?
I have also been reading some posts of Sarah Jameson. She wrote some books too, but the site doesn’t seem to be active anymore. Do you know her books? I think they might be interesting. The free ones as well. But I’m not sure if these are still available (at least I don’t get a response when filling in the contact form).
If other readers have suggestions as well, they are welcome as well. Also suggestions from females. Sorry, I don’t want to discriminate here, but my guess is that as a female, you may have a good idea on what might be helpful for my wife to read.
I liked Uniquely Rika a lot. It was the book I was reading when I realized I was actually a submissive and not just playing at it. I also think Sarah Jameson has some interesting things to say on the subject, but her bias against submissive men makes it hard for me to enthusiastically recommend her stuff. The Mistress Manual are Male Chastity: A Guide for Keyholders are also good. We got those early on. When Someone You Love is Kinky is highly regarded, as well.
Readers? Any other suggestions or advice for Rob?
Nina enquired…
I love your blog for all of the detailed information you give on chastity devices! Thank you for offering such a helpful resource on this subject. I noticed that you have written a lot about the Holy Trainer device and I was wondering if I could ask your advice? I recently received the device I ordered (2nd version, short tube, middle-sized ring, black material). It is very well constructed, looks good and seems reliable and easy to use. Unfortunately, I may have miscalculated or made some mistaken choices on my sizing. I measured myself and felt like the larger base ring would be too loose to hold the device on, especially because the shaft of my penis does not have a large diameter and, though not very tiny in length, is also not long. However, with the short tube, I am pushed very deeply to the end when the device is on all the way and it seems like the scrotum is pulled too far from the body to sit securely or comfortably. In fact, I noticed that with the device fully on and locked, there are still “folds” between my scrotum and the shaft of my penis on the “outside” of the ring, as if the whole package does not fully fit into the device. My question is, do you think this sounds like it would be best remedied with a larger ring or a long tube? I’m afraid that with the large ring, the whole device would not stay on at all and also, conversely, with a longer tube I would not fill it up enough to keep the device securely in place. At the same time, as it fits now, it seems somehow way too easy to slip my penis out of the tube and the ring when I am naturally flaccid. Anyhow, I know you are not one of the Holy Trainer manufacturers, but seeing as you have such extensive knowledge and experience with these devices, I thought I would ask for your view on the subject.
I wonder how tight your scrotum is naturally. Have you worn devices before? The folds of skin don’t sound terribly unusual but I can’t see them so I’m not sure. In any event, if your balls don’t turn blue or purple when you’re hard, the ring probably isn’t too tight. I found that my scrotum became much more flexible with time. Erections pushing against the tube anchored to my ball sack over and over stretched the skin. It may be the case that your scrotum is of the “high and tight” variety. The middle ring for the Holy Trainer is 45mm and I think that’s pretty darn big. It’s big on me, anyway. Sounds like, if anything, you may want to consider the 40mm ring.
You say your penis is all the way to the end of the tube when wearing the device and you’re flaccid. That’s perfect. Just the way I like it.
Regarding being able to pull out easily, that, I’m afraid, is just how it’s going to be. If you penis is much thinner than typical, it will probably feel even less secure. What it sounds like you need is a thinner tube, not just a shorter one. I don’t think you’ll find that on the over-the-counter plastic device market. You’ll need some custom steel. Also, a smaller ring would help. That being said, I found the Trainer to feel a little less secure than other plastic device I’ve worn. Also, of course, trapped-ball devices just aren’t terrifically secure things in general.
Hope that helps!
Reader Recon requests…
Hey there, Thumper. You have an awesome blog here. I’ve been reading it for a few years. It is very interesting to hear your first-hand account of being locked up and denied over the long term. As a matter of fact, yours is the only blog I read related to chastity. You’re also very sexy to read.
I’ve been interested in chastity since coming out 20 years ago. While at university, I bought a Carrara belt (back before they were known as Carrara), a used Tollyboy, and an original used Bird Cage. Since then, I’ve also picked up a CB-2000, one of the stainless steel guys from Mr. S, and a Dickcage. And lately I’ve had my eye on a couple of the more basic pieces from Steelwerks up in Montreal.
I haven’t really been locked up properly, lacking a guy who wants to control things, but I’ve played around with it now and then. I find that my biggest problem is using the restroom. Normally I run a finger up the entire length of the cock, from the perineum up to the head, to press out those last few drops of piss. Otherwise, I end up leaking, which I find quite annoying. Obviously if my cock is encased in stainless steel or plastic, I can’t do that. So I leak. Is this a problem that you have encountered? Any tricks to get those last few drops out?
Yeah. That.
This is a problem I deal with daily. The only tricks I can offer is to shake the damned thing out as well as you can, dab up as much excess as possible with toilet paper and exercise your Kegel muscles. Then, after all that, try to learn how not be so bothered by it and rinse the tube out when warm water at night and with soap and water in the morning. I wish I had the magic bullet to fix this, but it just is what it is.
Another reader announced…
Foreword: I am very much drunk (I don’t think I would have had the confidence to write to you otherwise).
I just want you to know that I identify with the way of life you have described in your blog. Your writings have helped me explain my sexual desires to my fiancee in a way that previously made me feel alienated and alone.
I guess all I have to say is thank you for your blog (and also thank you to Belle, of course).
And I guess all I have to say is thank you right back. And good for you (and your fiancee).
Keys to the kingdom
Belle’s gone on her trip. Due to the ballpark metal detector/plastic device issue and the timing of her departure, I ended up having all the keys to everything at my disposal.
So, just to reiterate, I am to stay locked up because I can’t be trusted with the penis and she likes knowing what I’m not doing with it when she’s not with me but I also have all the keys and am allowed to wear whatever device I want. But she has made clear that she expects me to be locked up the entire time she’s gone. Truly, this is just a different flavor of obedience chastity except I get to wake up early in the morning with a crushed erection and have to demonstrate sufficient willpower not to cheat along the way.
Grrrr.
I swapped the Trainer for the Jail Bird last night before bed. I did it as quickly and efficiently as possible leaving the penis free for only a few seconds. Just long enough to get the Trainer ring off and the JB ring on and barely enough for any optimistic swelling in between. The one thing I really like about the JB is how it feels first thing in the AM when the meat is at full pressure. Unlike the Steelheart which is fairly intense due to the slightly too small A-ring or the Looker 02 which I often will sleep right through, the JB allows a delicious amount of uniform pressure all around the penis. Just enough to feel the erection really fight but not enough to be painful in any way. Just a foot over the “uncomfortable” line. The double thick oval A-ring helps a lot with this as does the fact that I think it’s just about perfectly sized for my anatomy. Another nice thing about the JB is how, when I took it off the other day to put the Trainer on, the penis had lines from the bars embossed along its length. That’s a pretty cool artifact if you’re into the locked up cock thing.
In any event, several years ago I bought Belle a small reproduction of Rodin’s Eternal Idol. It lives on the dresser in our bedroom. I use it as a kind of dead drop for device keys whenever I’m supposed to lock up after Belle’s gone to work. I slide them in between the form of the woman and the kneeling man kissing her stomach with his hands respectfully held behind his back for Belle to retrieve when she gets home. I’ve decided that I’ll do that for the next two weeks even if I decide at some point to switch into another device. That little statue is, to me, something like a shrine to our dynamic and placing the key there or removing it is a more significant act than just throwing it in my nightstand drawer or something. If I have to know where the key is and have easy access to it, this is the place it should be.
Of porn and rogue vibrators
Two random things…
I’ve started a new Tumblr. One more brick in the global Thumpermedia empire. Of course, there’s the original Portfolio. When I first started curating it, I said it was a place to “collect pictures I like, but also the occasional story or even video. It’s not going to be just any porn that turns my crank, but specifically the porn that, for whatever reason, speaks to me as a submissive bisexual male.” I tend to pick pictures of men being used for sex by other men, beautiful women being beautiful, hot guys being hot, guys going down on women because pussies are awesome, and men being subjected to a variety of torturous hotness from both genders. It may appear to be a bit of a hodgepodge at first glance, but if I can place myself somehow in the scenario depicted, I will usually reblog it. For me, that’s critical. I really like to associate with the image personally in some way (and it’s not always obvious what that way is from the outside, I’m sure). Also, I’ve made the editorial decision to never show men ejaculating on the Portfolio because duh.
The second Tumblr I made was the Pit Stop. Pure dude pit porn. Very little deep thought put into it except I really have a thing for dude’s armpits. Cumshots allowed, though not the main point of the site so infrequently found.
The new one is called At least she lets you watch. This is another case of where the value of the porn for me is accentuated by trying to place myself in it. Due to my submissive tendencies, I tend not to really get off much on the images of women being fucked or otherwise appearing to be “bottoming” for a guy. But, I found that once I viewed these images through the lens of my nascent cuckolding kink, they suddenly become about a hundred times hotter for me. But they don’t fit on the Portfolio because images of MF sex there tend towards those where the woman appears to be in charge or I find the sex to be more reverential or respectful. On ALSLYW, I can freely post images of woman being complete sluts and loving it because the implication is she’s doing it with someone who’s not her husband. Convoluted, perhaps, but that’s how it works for me. Also, of course, the more cumshots the better. Especially if it’s all over her face or tits. Oh, yeah.
In a way, I think consuming porn is like going through a bucket of differently shaped pegs and seeing if they fit into any of one’s differently shaped holes. Some slip right in, some can be forced, and other just won’t work. It’s interesting to me how a simple internal change of perspective can make a peg that otherwise won’t fit suddenly work even though the peg itself hasn’t changed a bit.
Second random thing is Belle’s departure this morning for her two-week Asia trip. Much sadness. However, when I got home from the gym, she came out of the bathroom and told me she had a job for me. She gave me Pink and told me to give her new batteries so she wouldn’t have to worry about the little vibrator not working while she’s gone.
Funny story about that. We took Pink on vacation with us (and used her, too) and, upon leaving for home, I packed her in my suitcase. The suitcase went into a Jeep and then onto a ferry and then stacked in the back of a cab before being handed back to me at the airport. When I picked it up, I felt what I though was some kind of machinery vibration coming up from the ground. Thought it was weird, but didn’t stop to consider it more than that. Then, once we were checking in and about to hand over the luggage to security, I felt the vibration again. And it hit me. Pink was happily buzzing inside my suitcase. Right in the middle of the check-in area, in front of the kiosks and airline agents and fellow travelers, I laid the suitcase on its side, popped it open, and rustled around inside until I found the vibrator. It was hot. Probably a good thing I turned it off. No idea how long it had been going (had to have been a while based on its temp) or if anyone around me noticed what I was doing (doubtful), but that’s why Belle wanted me to swap out her batteries. So I dutifully shuffled off and tended to my wife’s vibrator so she could get herself off without worry while I was left at home with a locked up penis.
Desperate spooning
Belle leaves the country on Thursday for two weeks. I hate these trips, though to be fair, she hasn’t had to take one like this in a while.
As I said, and regardless of how good I’ve been recently, she’s not about to leave me alone with the penis. There’s a complication, though, in that I have tickets to the baseball game both tonight and on the day she leaves and they’ve recently installed metal detectors there. Not sure if they’re the walk-through kind or the wands (I’ve been wanded in the Steelheart before without detection). Therefore, I’m in the Trainer, but I really don’t want to be in it for the entire time she’s gone. I’d rather spend some time in the Jail Bird, actually (it’s been a while), or whatever device she says she wants me in. We’ll have to figure out something regarding keys and swapping devices and such.
In any event, she’ll be gone and I’m feeling pretty horny lately so last night I was lobbying hard for some pussy time even though she just came twice over the weekend and was generally tired and ready for bed. I didn’t push too hard. I wanted to leave her plenty of room to opt-out. Mental anguish over my subordinate lot in life would have been good, too. I was mentally prepared for that, but it didn’t happen. I presume she felt a little sorry for me and she eventually pulled back and said, “Make me happy.”
I went to work on her in the ways that usually induce happiness on her part. I was in the Jail Bird and felt the erection push hard against the bars while her pussy grew wetter and wetter. I didn’t want to rush as I was enjoying myself but I also wanted to be respectful of her desire to go to sleep soon. After a little of this where is seemed as though she wasn’t progressing as fast as she wanted, she asked, “Would you go down on me?”
And I’m like, FUCK. YES.
For the record, she never needs to ask if I’ll do this. Any day, any time, any place. Point to the pussy and push down on my head and I am so there. Eagerly.
It was hard work getting her home (her refractory period is more than just a few days after two orgasms in two days), but we got there. I lingered, kissing the inside of her thighs and resting my forehead on her mons and breathed deeply, letting her pheromones penetrate while she basked. It’ll be a while before I’m there again and I wanted my fill for as long as she’d let me.
I was a leaky mess after. And I did that thing where I spooned desperately into her and got thisclose to falling asleep before jolting awake. I guess that’s hormones. Happens more often than not after I get her off and I’m left locked. Eventually, I did sleep, but not until after some melatonin. Probably got about four hours.
On balance, four hours of sleep in exchange for pussy juice all over my face seems like a pretty fair deal.
Symbolism
Several comments on my post about Belle’s decision to tattoo me as a way to commemorate my permanent denial.
Dave said…
If this is what you both really want, then you should consider chemical castration. This would make it easier for you and would prevent future accidents. If the chemicals work out, then consider the surgery this would really make it permanent.
Castration would be the exact opposite thing we should do. My desire for orgasm is what powers my role in our dynamic. Anything that would remove that desire would be my kryptonite. Also, Belle wants a mate who’s hot and bothered over her. She likes it when I fuck her and when I want to fuck her. Remember, chastity and denial IS NOT abstinence. It’s not the opposite of sex. It is a way to enhance a sexual relationship.
MsDana said…
You might wanna ask someone who knows Japanese if that sign has all the right connotations of ‘deny’. It might not mean what the literal translation says it means.
And Tim added…
One of my new patient’s came to me recently and he has a tattoo that went on in the 1970s when he was at college. It says “Keep on Truckin” He told me that he thought he knew then what he meant but he is certain that he is not really certain now what it means. He is not the first patient to confide in me with lament about a tattoo
I am persuaded that everyone should have the freedom to choose what they want to do with their bodies. As you look/consider images, I would suggest that you look to something that has an affirming meaning… Such as the kanji for Commitment and Locked, or Service and Purpose. Just some ideas.
And Michael concluded…
The commenters suggestion to fully explore the symbols meaning is a good one. You don’t want the wrong connotation. That being said, I don’t think Japanese is either of you or Belle’s first language so you are probably ok if the intended meaning is within the greater lexicon of it’s literal meaning.
First off, I consider the message of what I believe to be the meaning of that kanji (which, yes, I will do a bit more research on) to be affirming. In our context, “deny” also means “commitment,” “service,” and “purpose.” Her decision to do it and my accepting the mark (because, let’s be real, if I really didn’t want a tattoo I wouldn’t get one) are all wrapped up in super sexy, hot, and ultimately loving sentiment. She’s not permanently denying me as a punishment. Quite the opposite. I think we both consider it a further deepening of our commitment to one another and our relationship.
Regarding potential tattoo regret, you need to know how I feel about tattoos in general. To me, they are markers of significant moments or influences in your life. They should have meaning, even after the moment or influence has past. They can serve as a reminder of where you’re from or where you’ve been or even as an indication of where you want to go. In short, even if at some point in our lives we find ourselves not in this dynamic (unlikely but who knows), we will still have been there at one time. It will still stand for an important point on the map of my life. I won’t regret it. Hopefully, I’ll always cherish what it meant to us.
To me, this tattoo will be a permanent symbol of our mutual dedication, commitment, and love.
Volly
Schnoff and I are going to continue our game of blogging badminton…
He wrote recently about the conflict of not living up to the expectations of that person with whom one has placed control over one’s orgasm (and I like writing using words like “one” because it does makes one feel as though they’re speaking dialog from an episode of Downton Abby). In my first post in response to his first, I said…
I still touch it and fiddle with it absentmindedly and give it a squeeze if it’s hard and I’m liking that, but I will not “play with it.” Which means I’ll not be able to find myself in that spot Schnoff did.
And even as I wrote it I thought it sounded a bit too confident. I should have said if I remain true to Belle’s wishes that I not play with the penis when it’s unlocked and I don’t have permission in that way I know from years of experience will bring me into spitting distance of orgasm, I’ll not be able to find myself in that spot Schnoff did. Lately, I have been really good about that. There’s some kind of mental block that’s been trained into me so that the idea of stroking myself, while appealing on one hand since I know how good it will feel, is really unappealing to me since I also know it would be very wrong. That’s not to say if I found myself locked in the bathroom with my ass in the air and the Pure Wand sticking out and punching my prostate that I wouldn’t also find my hand all over the penis if it were free, but that very specifically is one of those things I just mentioned. So I won’t do that unless she says very specifically that I can.
To illustrate. Belle left me unlocked this weekend from Friday night to this morning. She let me out on Friday not because she wanted anything to do with the penis but because she knew she might want it Saturday morning and she didn’t want to have to fiddle with the key or wait for me to attend to my cleanliness or anything like that when it was time. So, in effect, I was loaned the penis until she had a use for it. I was only holding onto it (figuratively) for her. So I didn’t do anything pleasurable with it until Saturday when she stroked it and let me put it in her. Similarly, the next morning we had sex again but this time there was no foreplay on her part. I was attending to her tits and fingering her pussy and the penis was rock hard between us but she totally ignored it. Neither of us touched it at all until she let me slide in because I’m not supposed to and she didn’t want to. There was a time when I might have maneuvered myself into position where her hand was adjacent in hopes that she’d play with it or even so that I could pleasure myself while pleasuring her, but the rule is now that the only pleasure I’m allowed from the penis is when it’s being used to fuck her. And I have been conditioned to obey that. I’m actually pretty proud of how good I’ve been, though I understand that she still doesn’t trust me.
I think there are some specific reasons for this recent success. One is Belle has given me very clear rules. No stroking. No getting yourself off without permission. Absolutely no orgasm. It’s hard to wiggle in that space. If I’m doing something that feels good with the penis, it’s probably against the rules. Two, I have come to realize that to really succeed I need to respect her, her rules, and our dynamic. All those things. Her authority over my body is not an island that is separate from me and my actions. I do not exist outside that construct.
I, of course, have willingly entered into this dynamic with Belle (just as I entered into our marriage which is a similar arrangement, I think). If I am to disrespect her wishes within the dynamic, I am disrespecting the dynamic. The thing I wanted and crave. The thing that provides me so much emotional pleasure. I can’t help wanting to stroke myself and even to come (in fact, I need to want to stroke myself and come) but to do so would mean I am not really invested in making the dynamic work. She has her role (which she is fulfilling quite well) and I have mine. If I can’t live up to her expectations, then why should I hope she’d do the same for me?
In a way, this mentality is the root of my assertion that the most secure chastity device lives between one’s own ears. Right now, I’m in the Jail Bird. It’s totally unsecure in that my PA has nothing through it. I could, theoretically, pull out and jack off or even go into my toolbox and use pliers to remove the security screw holding the cage on. She would have no way of knowing. But why in the world would I do that? To what end? And it’s the same willpower at a higher amperage that keeps me from breaking her rules involving free meat. The device is a deterrent but not the authority. That’s embodied in her.
So, the differences between successful device chastity and obedience chastity are non-existent…except for the device.
Like I said the other day, I think penis constriction is a kink all by itself. Some people get off on the feeling and, like in me, it’s buried deep down and has always been there. Another kink is about control (being controlled or doing the controlling). One could do either or both and still be covered under the “chastity” rubric. There is no right way. Layer over that ancillary kinks like bondage, sadomasochism, and even aesthetic preferences and you get some combination of this game we play.
The only advantages I have over anyone else sharing these kinds of experiences is the length of time we’ve been doing it and the fact that I often make an effort to tease out my feelings and thoughts in writing. But I do think that unless one gets to the point that they realize “being good” is really about respecting the holy trinity of their partner, themselves, and their relationship, they will struggle. I know for a fact that Bear and Schnoff are on the right path because it’s the same path Belle and I are one. I can recognize it in his writing. All the familiar mileposts are there.
Marked man
“You should probably just stop counting,” Belle said to me this morning after I mentioned that today made eleven weeks since she last let me come — approximately one-third of the total time I was denied before. Then, later, “I mean, you’ll just be counting forever.”
You see, Belle has decided I won’t have any more orgasms.
After talking about it, she’s unhappy with how I am after I come (even though it happens, on average, about once every 9 months) and is much happier with how I act and feel when I don’t and doesn’t like waiting around for my hormones to rebalance afterward (which, with the extension of duration between events, seems to take a lot longer than in the past). So that’s that. Calling a spade a spade. She’s happier and we’re better when I don’t come.
This concept has been bandied about before, but she’s pretty invested in it now. Belle said she thought something this momentous required a ceremony of some kind. It’s not unlike marriage vows, if you think about. Submitting to your parter’s control over your sexual release and willingly giving that up forever in exchange for her happiness and the salubrious benefits it has on our foundational relationship. Just saying, “No more for you,” without some kind of mutual acknowledgment of the significance of it would make backtracking too easy. Someday, maybe a long time from today, I’ll beg in a certain way and she’ll be in a certain mood and she’ll let me (like last time). Or I’ll be alone with the penis and allow it to think for me and I’ll fuck up. How can we take it a step further and solemnify the decision in a way that will make it more persistent?
Over dinner last night, she decided what she wants to do. She wants me get a tattoo. And she wants to be there to see me get it. That will be our ceremony. The tattoo she’s chosen is the Japanese Kanji for “deny.” She wants it about an inch from the base of the penis, just above and to the right. It’ll always be there as a reminder to both of us that my denial is forever. If I ask or beg or plead to come, all she’ll have to do is touch me on the Kanji. Every time I’m naked, her decision will be there to see. Right next to the steel ring (usually) locked on me. I will never be in a position when I’ll be able to allow myself to forget my commitment to her control. Every time anyone sees the penis, they’ll see her decision right next to it. She wants me marked. So I will be.
And I’m telling you, she’s really excited about this. She was near giddy as the plan was falling into place during our dinner date last night. She was laughing and grinning and I was feeling nervous butterflies tumble around inside me as I sipped my wine silently. I’m both excited and a little scared. Probably how most guys feel when they get engaged. This is a Big Deal. Not the kind of thing that just happens.
Every time I think about it, I get hard. Not just hard at the idea, but from how invested in it she is. Whenever I see her do or say anything that shows me she’s really into this dynamic, it makes me happy. This, in particular, makes me very happy. This isn’t about humoring me. This is what she wants, too. No doubt about it.
It occurred to me this morning, while laying next to her in bed after she let me get her off and with the sticky penis she let me fuck her with between us, that I shouldn’t be thinking about this permanent denial thing as something that’s in the future. The tattoo and commitment “ceremony” are in the future, but the denial is already happening. As she said, I will be counting forever. The last time she let me come really was the last time.
And there go the butterflies again. This is what I’ve wanted. This is what I’ve asked for. But now it’s real. The tattoo will physically mark the day the phase of my life where I could hope for orgasm ended, but that’s a formality. In reality, that day is already in the past. That part of my life is over.
The other way
You should read his post, but the short story is, while attending to his prostate, he lost control of his impulses and accidentally came. “Accidentally” except for the part where he was jacking off with a Pure Wand up his ass.
I don’t point all this out to make fun of him or make an example of him or anything. Mostly to commiserate with him.
I am coming around to the idea that failure is a necessary part of success. I had been obedient since we started in August, and I am upset that I can’t say that any more. At the same time, coming without permission led to growth: I was cheating and kidding myself about it, and that had to come to a head eventually. I was forced to look at what I was doing with less self-deception. That’s a good thing.
I have been in that place.
Recently, I was unlocked due to the fact that I felt like total shit and the device was making me feel worse by its simple existence affixed to my body. I was sick (which is also a big reason why I haven’t posted in a long time — that and the vacation we were on). Belle let me out (I wasn’t entirely sure she would) and I was free for about four days or so. Maybe a few more. In that time, I didn’t play with myself. “Play with myself” is now defined internally as stroking the erect penis and/or stimulating that sweet spot under the penis’ head. I still touch it and fiddle with it absentmindedly and give it a squeeze if it’s hard and I’m liking that, but I will not “play with it.” Which means I’ll not be able to find myself in that spot Schnoff did. Not again.
Funny thing is, by the time Belle decided it was time for me to go back in I was telling myself I didn’t need to go back in. Bear doesn’t use a device on Schnoff like Belle does on me and that’s always seemed a little weird from my perspective but I was digging not having to deal with the steel and all the extra crap that comes with being locked up (and I wasn’t feeling 100% healthy anyway — not really until just a few days ago). It’s not that I was swearing off chastity devices, but that’s how it works sometimes. More time out leads to wanting more time out and more time in leads to being happier in. It made me think of Schnoff and Bear’s arrangement. Which is why reading his post was…ironic.
But Belle wanted me back in. It wasn’t a request.
I asked her this past weekend after she let me get her off while locked up the whole time why she keeps me this way day in, day out. Why has this dynamic moved from something that was at first a thing I was advocating to something she has so fully embraced. I bet there are a good number of guys who fantasize about being in my state who’d like to know that, too. I’m not sure I got to the bottom of it, but she has a few reasons for wanting me locked up. First, she doesn’t trust me with the penis. And, if I’m honest, I’ve not given her any reason to. Sure, I was good and have been for quite some time on those off days I’m not locked, but I’ve given her plenty of reasons to think I can’t control myself. Situations that sound a lot like Schnoff’s. Second, she just likes knowing my state. See reason number one. If I’m locked up and controlled, I can’t make any mistakes and that makes Belle’s life somewhat simpler not having to worry or even think about me being true. Of course I am because I have no choice. Third, I think she just likes the control. After that, I’d say there are a number of ancillary drivers. Like I think she’s more accustomed to the penis when it’s a shiny tube than a meaty one. Like how she associates my denial and my submission to her with a romantic act. Like how she thinks my attitude and behavior around the house are better when the penis can’t dwell on my mind.
I didn’t write this to suggest device denial is better than willpower or that Schnoff is doing it wrong or anything like that. This is really more about me stretching my fingers and knocking the cobwebs out of the blogging corner of my brain. But it was also a chance to do a little exploring between the cracks of the various ways this denial thing can be done.