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Bad touch

I was going to the trainer on Saturday and decided, since I’m locked up on my own recognizance, that I’d let myself out beforehand. I don’t need to be unlocked when training, but I had gotten used to not being in the steel and when I’m being stretched the device makes an unusual bulge (plus, on a couple of occasions, there have been inexplicable clicking noises coming from my crotch when doing jumping exercises).

So yeah, I decided I’d get out but that I’d put the locking cock ring on instead. I had the key in a pants pocket though I couldn’t remember exactly which pants it was. I went to the pair hanging on the back of the bathroom door. Nope. No key. Hmm. I was pretty sure that’s where it was. Then I went to the pair of jeans I had on a few days earlier. Not there. I dug into the hamper and checked yet another pair of jeans. No dice.

I admit I experienced a brief flash of panic. We have several locks and I used the first one that plopped out of the little silky bag Belle keeps them in. It had just the one key which meant the spare was likely the emergency key in the little steel key safe she lets me carry just in case, but until I popped the seal I couldn’t be sure. In the time it took me to get to the drawer where the spare lived, I wondered if this particular lock only had one key now. I know we thought we lost a key at one point. That’s why we have more than one lock.

Crisis averted. The spare was to the lock in the device. Then, today, I found Belle’s key deep in the pocket of the first pair of pants I checked in the first place. We have a full set of keys again.

A little while back, I bought a bunch of little numbered blue plastic key safe seals. I had been thinking for a while that since Belle doesn’t ever check the numbers being used and that I had the all the extras I could, conceivably, cheat by popping the spare whenever I wanted to and locking it back up again afterward. I thought giving the seals to Belle was a better idea, but she hides everything within a two square foot space (except for the key which she usually has with her all the time) so they weren’t exactly out of reach to me. I think I have a better idea, anyway.

Off to the right of this post in the blog’s sidebar I have placed a log of the seals used (including the current one). As they get broken, I’ll record the date and reason plus add the new one’s number to the top of the list. I’ve went back a few since it was pretty easy to do so, but obviously we’ve gone through more than the three currently listed. It seems to me this is the most secure way to deal with the spare since the number of the current seal is essentially public knowledge.

In any event, in the few hours I was out prior to going to the trainer I was as weak as ever and took full advantage of the situation. The cock ring, of course, does nothing to keep my hands off the penis so there it was. Minutes before I had to leave for the gym, I ended up giving myself a very productive ruined orgasm. I know it was ruined because even as the creamy goo was shooting into my hand I was thinking how fine it would feel sitting in my mouth being swished around by my tongue. There was a ton of the stuff and it covered my palm and got in between my fingers and I licked every bit of it clean. Even the few extra drops I milked out afterward. I savored it in all its slimy glory and swallowed it in a thick gulp.

I have mentioned before that my main trainer is a massive West African dude. He’s nearly a foot taller than my six feet. I can appreciate the fact that he’s a fine specimen of the human species, but I have to admit I don’t find him all that sexually interesting. He’s simply not my type. The only thing about him that kind of transfixes me is that I can sometimes totally see his dick when he’s wearing the right stretchy pants. Not surprisingly, since everything else about him is large, his cock looks pretty big. In its flaccid state (obviously), it appears to be at least four or five inches long as it gracefully arches downward. Some days, I can even tell he’s circumcised. I know that flaccid length is not necessarily relevant to erect length, but still. Chances are good he’s near the top of the bell curve.

Anyway, the reason I tell you all this is because yesterday he had me laying on a bench on my back doing chest presses. It was my third set and he’d kicked up the weight pretty high (for me, anyway). He was standing close to me in order to spot the weight in case it turned out to be too much for me and as I started to lift it, my right hand – I am certain – brushed against his cock. It’s bad enough that he’s walking around showing everyone his dick, it’s worse when one of his clients is as fucking horned up as I am and actually gets to touch the damned thing. I know the contact was purely accidental. He stepped back a bit and I kept lifting, though I was replaying the brief sensory input over and over as I completed the set.

Once I got home I went into the bathroom and put the device back on as quickly as possible. I didn’t think, I didn’t touch, I just locked it all back up. Belle gets home on Thursday. I wish there was some way for me to get rid of the key until then. Things are just so much simpler when I have zero control over penis access.

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Thanks but no thanks

I received the following feedback from a reader calling themselves Castimonia:

Have you ever thought you might have an intimacy or sexual disorder?  I read some of your blog and it seems that there are some issue you have that I used to have quite a bit.  I am not judging you because I have been where you are, I am simply stating that IF you would like true freedom and true happiness, THEN there is help for all of us!  Good luck!

I read that and went, “Hmmmm.”

Castimonia has an eponymous blog upon which I found the following on their about page:

Castimonia is a Christ-centered 12-Step Support and Recovery program for sexual impurity or sexual addiction with the goal to achieve a Biblically-based sexual purity. We share our experience, strength, and hope with each other so that we may achieve sexual purity and help others overcome sexual impurity or compulsive sexual behaviors.

Although we believe Jesus Christ is our Lord and Savior, Christianity is not a requirement for attending meetings or working the 12-step program. We are open to any group or denomination. The only requirement for attendance and participation is the desire to stop compulsive sexual behavior and reach sexual purity.

And:

Every man struggles with some level of sexual purity.  This group is designed to help men who struggle with sexual purity, particularly in the following areas:

  • Sexually immoral thought life
  • Pornography
  • Sexual acting out such as self-gratification, using prostitutes, frequenting sexually oriented businesses, or adult bookstores
  • Adultery

If you are dealing with any of these kinds of struggles then you have found the right place.

I gotta tell you, that term “sexual purity” makes my skin crawl.

Yes, Castimonia, I once did think there was something wrong with me. I was ashamed and tried to hide how I was. I resisted the feelings that came from within me until I couldn’t any longer and then felt deep guilt and self-loathing once I indulged my desires. It wasn’t until I embraced those desires that I felt good. Once I admitted who I was to myself and my partner, a great weight was lifted. Your path, based on an interpretation of a corrupted mythology originating thousands of years ago, leads to self-hatered and mental anguish. Wrap it in whatever platitudes you like, it’s the same old anti-sex anti-human bullshit that’s made generations of people hate themselves and hate others who won’t do the same.

I have no use for you, no use for your belief system, and no use for your concern for me. Please go peddle your bile elsewhere.

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Locked plugged pinched

As I mentioned, I’ve locked myself up in anticipation of Belle’s return next week from her international business trip which will also mark the return of our D/s dynamic. As I also mentioned, I’m pretty fucking worked up. It’s been something like a week and a half since my last orgasm and while normally this would be a highly frothy period anyway, the fact that my body got used to not carrying any excess hormones for a while can’t be helping.

Last night, after all the offspring where sequestered for the evening, I had every intention of going to bed as I was tired. The intentions evaporated, though, when I spent a few minutes curating The Portfolio (and it’s little brother). Tumblr led to Literotica and it’s wonderfully implemented story tags where you can mix and match perversions to your heart’s content. Many words were read. That led me to bring out the njoy Pure Plug 2.o and my six pinchy things.

Of the pinchy things, I chose the two most vicious: the alligator clips and the pervertable Old Navy clips. It was one of those nights where there was no such thing as too much pain and suffering. Starting with the alligators affixed to the very end of my nips, I graduated to the badass Old Navy clips and then to both. At the same time. In fact, the gators and two different sets of the Old Navy clips. That’s three clips simultaneously chewing on my nipples. Nipples are funny old things in that they’re so incredibly sensitive yet can stand up to a withering amount of abuse. In general, my nipples are a little larger and bit chubbier than average so there’s plenty of surface upon which to affix nasty biting things. The pain was intense and today they’re puffier than usual and hurt even when I walk (but still pink and cheerful looking). Even so, I’m constantly reaching unto my hoody when people aren’t looking and pinching them through my t-shirt. I’m quite positive I’ll be ruining them again tonight.

As for the plug, I don’t recall ever mentioning the Pure Plug 2.0 here before. It’s a wonderfully dense slug of steel with a circumference of almost 14 cm (which sounds a lot worse than it is). I adore this thing. I used it last night because I wanted to feel stuffed with the 1 1/3 pounds of metal and didn’t have the energy for anything more strenuous. Getting the thing in is harder than even Stryker’s Beast since its 2″ diameter, while shaped for insertion, is totally unforgiving. A dildo has some give. Steel does not. There’s always a half-second of feeling like I’m about to rip open as it goes in, but once it settles into place I quite often drip from the pressure on my prostate.

So there I was, dick locked, ass plugged and nipples fiercely pinched while I read all sorts of perverted things on the internet. I was out of my mind on the hormones but eventually found myself unable to keep my eyes open and I had to stop. I wistfully unclamped the throbbing pink circles of tender flesh and put their tormentors back in a black velveteen bag but decided to leave the Pure Plug where it was.

As even a casual reader of this blog knows, I really like it up the ass. I love the sensation of being penetrated and stuffed and especially like how the heavy steel of the Pure Plug shifts around inside me as I move. If I could, I’d want to be plugged all the time (sometimes) so I indulged my fantasy a bit last night. I did fall asleep even with the distraction. I woke up a few times and was reminded of the invader immediately. Reaching around and feeling where the hot steel disappeared into me brought me out of my sleep quickly, but I managed to leave it in place all night. The only downside of the Pure Plug is it’s base which has an oval ring (presumably to make handling easier) with somewhat sharp edges. After a few hours, those edges start to bite into the cheeks pressing against them.

Belle doesn’t get home for another week yet. I really want her. I want to press my face into her snatch and feel her come against my mouth. I want to smell her and suck on her tits and feel her bite my neck and squeeze my nuts. While I wait for that, though, I’ll get by with the self-abuse.

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I ran

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0_Pq0xYr3L4]

During the month out of chastity, I took up running. I have an old knee injury (which we’ll say was incurred playing varsity football but actually happened when I tripped on a pothole in an ice cream parlor’s parking lot) and I always assumed that since exercise would often make it hurt (and I can still hear it click when I move the joint) it would keep me from being able to run, but the strength I’ve gained from the personal training seems to have made it possible for me to do more than just the elliptical machine. Even though I’m stronger than I used to be, my cardio isn’t what I’d like it to be and that’s what led me to running.

Yeah, so anyway, waaaay back in last month when I started this new routine I didn’t have a bunch of steel hanging off the tender vittles. If you’re familiar with running shorts, you’ll know that they’re kinda like a swimsuit in that they have an inner liner that offers a modicum of support so your nuts aren’t bungying off your vas deferens as you jog along, but it isn’t designed to support metal or to deal with the greater inertial forces generated by a steel tube getting punched hither and yon by the nut sack pushed up behind it. What would it be like? Would it hurt? Would I even be able to do it?

As a matter of fact, I could. I ran for two miles yesterday in my Nike shorts and my German steel and am no more worse for wear. I was aware of the steel flopping back and forth but it never caused me any discomfort (some of the hills pretty well kicked my ass, though). I could sometimes hear the clinking of the PA ring inside the tube, but it was’t too apparent (and besides, who’s going to hear it besides me?). Pretty sure the tube was fairly visible through the thin fabric of the shorts, especially as the breeze pressed the material to my body, but from what I could tell, it only appeared to be a fat cock bouncing around, not a kinky sex toy (which, by the way, is how it almost always appears through clothing). I could feel the sweat running down into the tube mostly because it seemed to be cooled by the steel so a slightly air-conditioned willy is a by product of running in a Steelheart. In the end, there doesn’t appear to have been any excessive chafing or other damage done. I did lube up pretty good before I left, though. Seemed the prudent thing to do.

So there you go. One more thing you can do in a chastity device.

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Rising tide

Where were we? Oh, right. On a break.

It’s been one month since I wrote that. One month of not wearing a chastity device and one month of essentially coming when I want. Yes, the deal was that I wasn’t supposed to come without Belle, and it started well, but I failed there. Easy access to the penis and our hiatus in other action along with her distraction by work gave my reptile brain the momentum it needed to make me think for a second or two longer during masturbation. That’s all it takes.

“Wait!”

“What?”

SPURT

I have no idea how many times I came in that month. Not as often as I would have under “normal” circumstances, but perhaps more than I have in the previous six months combined. That is, until about ten days ago. I hadn’t come in a bit and was feeling pretty horny. Instead of acting on that desire, I let it sit and grow. Then Belle told me that as soon as she gets back from the long business trip she’s currently on, I was going back in. Break over. That made me want to try to start the break in the proper state of mind. So I haven’t come now for about a week and a half. Hardly any time at all, really, but I’m feeling it.

A few days ago, after Belle had left, I was alone in the house with time on my hands. A bad combination for those who haven’t come and are trying not to. I ended up on all fours abusing myself with Mr. Stryker and his lesser cousins, locking double cocking ring in place, chain between the nipple clamps swinging. Of course, cock ring or no, I had access to the penis and worked it hard. I put some of the numbing cream on before hand but not so much that I couldn’t feel a thing. In any event, I was well and truly fucked (literally) and super horny (as you can imagine). I didn’t come, but I jerked it raw and wanted more. A lot more. There was a tickle in the back of my brain saying the break was still on. There would be few chances to come. I should take advantage of it.

The thing is, though, while it’s really hard to keep my hands off of it when I’m this turned on, I knew how I’d feel after the orgasm. Belle’s warning me of the end of the break brought me back into line and while a very rudimentary part of my brain wanted the orgasm, everything higher up didn’t. That’s what orgasm denial does to men. It sets up an internal war over the penis and orgasm. Higher brain functions at battle with lower ones and constantly the need to feel one’s hard member in hand. The higher forces had regained the advantage, though. I put the device back on.

I know where the key is, of course. Belle doesn’t have it, I do. I’m purposefully denying myself what I could have because I honestly can’t trust myself. If I take it off, I may give myself an orgasm. An orgasm I don’t want but desperately need. The key is in my bathroom drawer. I saw it last night and I caught myself fingering it before I even thought to touch it. Maybe just a short jerk, I thought. I’d even leave the ring on. It’s not like I’d really be taking it off…right?

So that’s where I am. Aching balls and a tight early morning throbbing between my legs. Pretty much right where I want to be.

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Mailbag 6

A note from a reader:

To make a long story short, I’m a gay male who plays with like minded guys in BDSM and leather. I have a great group of friends and I have recently discovered long term chastity. I’m still somewhat new to the game, the longest I’ve spent locked down is about ten days. I’m currently locked into a birdcage silicone chastity device for another week long stretch. I really love the feeling of wearing a device for long periods and slowly I’m getting used to the sensation of the strap around my balls, the constriction when I start to get hard, and making it through the night without waking up every five minutes. That last one has been REALLY tough, but it does certainly get easier with time.

Here’s my question: I find that after a few days in chastity, I start to get really comfortable in the device (Most of the time I don’t even notice that I’m wearing it) but on the other hand I hit certain points in the day when I seem to experience what can only be called “intense hormone spikes”. Its like I get these sudden sensations of extreme horniness and I suddenly feel super aggressive, like I’m about to put my fist through the wall (actually I almost did that the other day…) If I can make it through these sensations for about five minutes they normally pass without incident. However it is getting harder to hide these sudden moments of hyper arousal at work and I really don’t like the way they make me feel temporarily out of control (especially when I’m with colleagues, slamming my fist into the wall for no apparent reason in front of my boss… definitely not cool.)

So would you consider these “surges” normal? And if so, any tips for how handle it, especially when you’re in a public setting?

The level of hormones we carry when we’re being denied orgasm for more than just a few hours was not part of our original design specification. We’re designed to release them at regular intervals (sometimes, very regularly). There’s an always-on stream of hormones feeding into our blood stream and, after a bit, it’s natural to expect some kind of affect.

I can relate to your surges of aggression. I’ve have them too, but usual only to the point where I want to punch the monkey, not a wall (but you know, we’re all wired a little differently). I find when I’m denied that all my emotions are closer to the surface. I have experienced palpable rushes of horniness in the most innocuous of situations. One time in particular, I can recall being in a business meeting at a client in a room with about six young attractive females (and no other men) and having to deal with the most intense images of them in various states of undress flashing though my head and right down to the penis in its cage (which, in turn, caused me to shift uncomfortably in my chair, as  you can imagine). So, in response to your final question, yes, even in a public setting. There’s nothing you can do to stop how you feel regardless of where you are.

Some people find these interruptions to be intolerable, either too difficult to deal with or too distracting or whatever, and use them as a sign that it’s time for an orgasm. I do know that eventually these things tend to level out. Sooner or later, that always-on stream of hormones starts to slack a bit and the high peaks of hormonal emotional interruptions get cut off. You body adjusts to its new reality and, in a way, you start to crave the frustrating surges. Personally, when I’m really in the zone, I can’t get enough of them. They’re like crack. But, as I say, mine don’t often manifest towards physical aggression (only self-abuse).

Here’s hoping things level out for you sooner rather than later or that you can at least learn to control yourself in front of the boss. 😉

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It’s a team sport

Friday night I was laying in bed flipping and flopping and trying to ignore the fact that I was working up to another sleepless night due to an overabundance of hormones. It’s been a hard few weeks since Belle and I had so much time apart, but also we’ve been in a period where she’s not been too interested in me or what I’m able to do for her (i.e., little or no sex). It was three o’clock in the morning and I was stewing.

Apparently, my tossing woke her up. When I realized this, I started to talk to her about it. I told her that the game we play is a team sport. It requires two to work. I can’t do it by myself. Also, our relationship is enhanced by the hardware that’s attached to the penis, not defined by it. If she didn’t feel interested in engaging, then we didn’t have to do it. Indeed, “setting and forgetting” has the opposite affect on me. I didn’t feel closer to her, I felt more distant. And while I wasn’t trying to guilt her out or sound angry, I could feel myself moving in that direction.

She told me to take it off. She also told me I could come. I was simultaneously sad and excited. I couldn’t really discuss the prospect of having an orgasm rationally. My hand was even shaking. She unlocked the lock and I disassembled the steel and jerked off next to her. When I came, it was a relief. I could feel the wave of sleep-inducing chemicals wash out of my brain. After wiping the goo from my body, I found sleep.

The next morning, she wanted to fool around. Surprisingly, I had it in me. I offered to let her come by riding the stiff penis, but she opted for the usual fingering. She said she’s been “trained” to want it that way. Funny. We’ve both been trained. After she came, I fucked her to completion. Two orgasms in less than six hours. The decadence.

We’re not on a total break. I’m not allowed to come without her, but I’m not sure if that means there’s any limit to how often I can come as long as she’s there. Even though I’d done it twice in the past day or so, I want it again. I’d be doing it right now except she’s not home. The device will be off for at least two weeks since we leave next Saturday for our Spring vacation.

In any event, things might get a little quiet around here for a while. I’ve got some HNT queued up for Thursday, but other than that, I’m not sure what else I’ll have to talk about.

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Mailbag

Catching up on some mailbag items…

Thanks for a great website.  I am about to start a long time in a CB-6000 with PA cable on Thursday.

I do have an odd question for you….

I need to wear an athletic cup for sparing in martial arts.  I know I can get the cup over the device but I suspect if I actually get kicked, the device and cup will work together to rack my balls badly.  Any advice on this?  (I wear the cup to prevent damage to my balls… I can handle some pain… I THINK!)

I know for a fact that one can wear these devices during physical activities, but I wouldn’t wear one while participating in a contact sport. A device ties all the squishy bits together in a way they weren’t designed so that as one part moves in one direction during a hit and another part might move in an opposite direction, they’re forced to move together and that might be bad. Especially if you’ve got a cable running through the whole set up that fixes the end of your penis in place with a ring that’s been punched through your urethra. Man. I get creeped out just thinking about it.

The cup might offer some measure of protection, I suppose, but if it’s like ones I’ve worn there won’t be much room in it for all the extra plastic. If it were me, I’d figure out a way to take it off while kicking and being kicked.

I have recently found your blog about male chastity, actually, I have recently found out about male chastity.  I have been looking for a way to spice up my marriage a little.  I have been married to a great wife for 14 years now, 3 kids and the spice is not what it used to be.  We are both just starting to get back into wanting sex more.  Although, she likes missionary only.

I am researching this as much as I can and like to talk with normal people that are doing this and what I can learn from them. Bringing this up to her and getting her to go along with this will be difficult, so wondering if you have any suggestions.

If you’re asking about how to approach her, I’m not a very good resource. I don’t really have a strategy because when I first found out about enforced chastity I immediately shared it with Belle and we were on our way. We were in a particular place in our relationship where I felt comfortable sharing this interest with her. The best advice I have would be to explain that normal people really do do this. Really. Yes, it’s kinky, but not like taped up hamsters. It’s pretty tame, actually.

If you’re looking for things to share with her, I more or less think Sarah Jameson’s stuff is pretty good. That’s not a bad place to start. She puts things in a way that might appeal to the average woman and, as long as you can see through her submissive male bigotry, is reasonably practical. Obviously, I think the stuff Tom’s written is another great resource. Belle in particular has appreciated his point of view. Don’t forget Dev, either! I also think the gang over at the Chastity Forums are pretty levelheaded. That’s another good place for you to go as you figure out a strategy on how to move forward with your wife. Finally, I’m asking others to add their two bits and/or links in the comments. I know there are smart people reading this who could help.

Good luck!

I read your blog because you are an honest writer.  You don’t pull punches or shy away from topics that um, well might embarrass others.  However, having said that, you may not want to tackle the subject I am about so ask you to write about, because it’s so full of emotional, political, and even religious focus.  The subject is homosexuality versus bisexuality. I have commented before that I find the idea of gay male sex a real turn on, but I have never felt a “man crush” for any man. Conversely, I have had many a crush on woman that don’t physically turn me on.

I also am one of the many guys that finds lesbian sex a huge turn on, but other then the fact that its usually two very attractive woman doing things that I like to do with a woman, I don’t know why it turns me on.  Just watching two beautiful women kiss drives me crazy.  And although two guys can talk about lesbian sex with zero social stigma, you rarely hear two guys talk about gay male sex.  Kind of a double standard there, I think.

So, that double standard got me to thinking that bi-sexuality might not have the “falling in love crush” attached to it, but rather is simply physical pleasure derived from both the physical act and the “taboo” nature of the act. (not unlike anal sex for some). The hardcore homosexual organizations talk about bisexuals as a cop out or as an out right denial of sexual identity.  And mostly they take this position for political reasons.  They seem to be saying “We’ve worked so hard to get our rights established in the law, we don’t want any of you fence sitters screwing it up, come out or shut up.”  That’s why I think that bisexuals get this horrible rap of being confused or closet homosexuals. I call bullshit on that. I’m not confused, I like the same kind of sex that homosexuals do.  I just don’t feel like I could fall in love with someone and have a “pair bonded” relationship with them.  Thank god there is strap-on sex…the closes thing I’ll ever get to gay male sex!

Help me explain this better can you?

I spent many years of my life essentially paralyzed by my seemingly contradictory impulses with regard to sex. I kept trying to find a paradigm I could fit myself into and it just wasn’t there. By the time I decided to stop obsessing and get on with things, I was approaching thirty. I lost most of my twenties, sexually speaking. It is a waste of fucking time.

Fact is, people are going to feel how they’re going to feel. Kinsey nailed it back in the Forties with his scale. Human sexuality is a fluid continuum that simply cannot be diced into orderly blocks to suit anyone’s moral preferences. We are all born this way, to one degree or another, as are many other animals. There is no right answer and its society’s problem that this isn’t recognized and accepted, not ours.

I’ve recently started reading a book called Straight: The Surprisingly Short History of Heterosexuality. Here’s a snippet from the Amazon description:

Like the typewriter and the light bulb, the heterosexual was invented in the 1860s and swiftly and permanently transformed Western culture. The idea of “the heterosexual” was unprecedented. After all, men and women had been having sex, marrying, building families, and sometimes even falling in love for millennia without having any special name for their emotions or acts. Yet, within half a century, “heterosexual” had become a byword for “normal,” enshrined in law, medicine, psychiatry, and the media as a new gold standard for human experience.

I recommend you check it out! It’s an eye-opener.

The following came from a comment to another post.

This is from http://chastewench.blogspot.com/ and has nothing to do with your recent post, but it does describe my exact situation and I hate it! Any suggestions you might have that would smooth out the ups and downs?

Rollercoster

Various blogs suggest that the way to motivate a man is to keep him desperate. It’s so scarily true.

A few days of tease and denial and I’m ready to do anything the Empress of my cock says. Yet once I’m sated it’s difficult to relate to why I was so malleable and so desperate to be dominated. It’s like looking at another person, one you don’t quite get, and finding yourself a little shocked by their antics. Thinking ‘was that really me?’

The peculiar thing is the more I’m denied, and the nastier she is, the more I crave submission, discipline, humiliation, abuse, pain. The desire to be dominated builds and builds. The constant forfeit of control and state of excitement is so addictive. Crazy as it sounds it’s almost as if the more she denies me the more a part of me wants it to continue. The more I sink into submission.

Then she lets me cum and then buzz is gone. I’m left bemused, shaking my head at my own behaviour. Having to remind myself that I signed a contract, try to rationalise putting the chastity belt back on, when I no longer really want to be locked away, I’m no longer in the mood. Then with a snap of the lock the ride starts all over again.

So, so familiar with that particular ride, as would be anyone who’s found themselves locked up for more than a single play session. It gets to the question of what is a true submissive. If one only feels that way after being denied (or feels it much more strongly), then is that person a real sub? Honestly, I leave that question to others to decide. For Chaste Wench and for me and for many others (maybe even you), we like that eventual feeling of profound submission. The part where you can’t get enough of whatever she’s dishing out. As far as I’m concerned, you need at least a seed of submission in you somewhere for it to grow, but really, if it feels good, who cares?.

The cratering of desire for all this chastity play after orgasm can’t be helped (assuming it’s a pleasurable orgasm). It’s chemical. Once you come and the brain releases its happy juice into your bloodstream, it snuffs out the other chemicals that drive the need to be locked and disciplined and abused. There really is no way around it, other than either always ruining the guy’s orgasm or never ever letting him have another (which is rife with its own set of issues). After the spurt, you feel kind of embarrassed for ever wanting to wear the thing in the first place and wonder what all the hubbub was about. If you have a blog like this one, you go back and read things that, even though you wrote them, you have a hard time feeling.

Personally, my advice would be to enjoy the ride. When it’s up, it’s the best fucking thing in the word (or at least feels that way). When it’s down, you simply need to take solace in the fact that, given time and a secure device, all will feel right in the world eventually. For me, assuming it’s just one orgasm, that’s about 2-3 days. Hardly any time at all!