chastity devices – Page 40

April 12, 2009

Lizard vs. Bunny

I look forward to Saturday night all week long. It’s the one night I can usually depend on getting a little Thumper-centric action out of Belle. This week, based on what she described as my exemplary service over the previous five days combined with the fact that it’s been two weeks since my last orgasm (and it’s showing), I was especially expectational of being made a happy bunny.

Once we got into bed, the vibe didn’t seem like one that was going to lead to wild, passionate, kinky sex. She had assumed an aggressive “curled up for sleep” posture. Trying to go with the flow, I asked if there was anything she wanted me to do for her. She told me to get naked and rub her neck. After her top was off and she was laying on her stomach, I straddled her ass so I could get to work on her knotted up muscles. The little prisoner looked up mournfully at me as the tube it was in crushed my balls into Belle’s ass. She was making appreciative moans and groans and was obviously slipping into a deeper state of relaxedness.

When she had had enough, I rolled off and laid next to her. Still on her stomach, I gently ran my hand in circles over her lower back and ass. She really liked that. So much so, that after a short while, I heard a short little snory snort come out of her. She was asleep.

All at once, I was full of internal conflict. On the one hand, it was supposed to be my turn! She had dropped hints. I had give her the best service I knew how all week. Where the hell was my action?! On the other hand, I had made her feel really good. I had made her happy. Wasn’t that my goal? Isn’t this exactly what I signed up for?

Back in your hole, rabbit.

I blew out all the candles and rolled over to go to sleep. Normally, I spoon into her, but this time I turned the other way and curled around my pillow. I felt neglected. I felt horny. I felt guilty. And yeah, I felt a little angry. The submissive little bunny in my chest was beaten back by the sex lizard who, frankly, had had enough of his fuzzy, pink-nosed, floppy-eared bullshit.

I slept fitfully due to my brimming sexual energy and a painfully full chastity tube. At 4:30, Belle rolled over and put her arm across my chest and started to finger the hair in my arm pit. Her touch immediately set me on edge. Electrical fire flashed across my skin. I wanted it – craved her touch – but simultaneously desired her to get off me.

She asked how I felt. I struggled with an answer. A month ago, I’d have probably said something noncommittal and stewed, but last night I was able to answer, “Conflicted.” I confessed my frustration. That I expected attention, even though the terms of our dynamic gave me no reason to do so. She said she could feel my frustration. I apologized for being moody and said I didn’t want her to feel guilty. She said she didn’t feel guilty. The tube between my legs throbbed at that.

She wanted me to know that even though we could have had sex at that moment, we weren’t going to because she would only be doing it for me, not because she wanted it. Yes, she did want to reward me for my excellent service, but it needed to happen when she wanted it to and not at any other time. My behavior could not be used to manipulate her actions.

The way she said these things, in a measured and thoughtful way, totally obliterated the petulant sex lizard. My internal bunny came roaring back. She meant this. She felt it. My Belle Fille was in total possession of her dominant position over me. All my internal conflict dropped away leaving me feeling absolutely under her control.

I told her I understood completely and that I loved her, completely. Our sex belonged to and was for her. I apologized for having expectations I had no right to. We kissed and I burned. She rolled over and I spooned into her so insistently it was if I was trying to fuse myself to her.

This morning, I’m content. Yes, terribly horny – my sexual frustration rings through me like a struck bell – but content nonetheless. My wonderful, beautiful, caring Belle Fille has never wielded her sexual dominance over me more assuredly than she did last night and I am beyond appreciative to her for doing so. She makes me very, very happy and I know how lucky I am to have her.

April 11, 2009

The plateau

I stood next to the bed and waited for her to acknowledge me. Before our lost month, she had started to call it her bed and I felt it was time for me to start acting like it was again.

“What?”

“Can I get into your bed?”

Pause. “Not like that, you can’t,” meaning I had to get naked, “and not without the foot lotion.” She wanted another foot massage.

Massaging her feet this time was different than it had been the night before. And it was all very meta since after I started the massage, she read my last post about that massage where she left a comment about this massage (dizzy yet?). And she was very chatty. That, along with just having spent the evening with her parents, made my headspace less deep than it had been the night before. Besides, I was thinking about the cock too much.

Earlier, I had asked to be unlocked so I could switch to a larger ring. I had the familiar issue of irritation on the right side of my scrotum and thought a slightly looser ring might help while it healed. This happens every time I get locked up at some point. In any event, after switching, I went to her to get relocked (she likes to make it click) and she took the lock in her hand, but paused. She was considering. Hello? What’s she thinking? Am I going to get out? Does she want her cock? My heart skipped a beat.

“Not yet,” she said, leaving the lock in place, but not closed.

So as I knelt there, rubbing her feet with the thick lotion and feeling my hands ache from the effort, the thought of that little chrome lock dangling, open, from the device she makes me wear loomed large. Later, she decided she wanted her neck and shoulders massaged, so she sat in front of me topless. I got up on my knees in order to get better leverage against her tight muscles and felt the device (and it’s prisoner) press against her back.

The chatting continued (induced by the wine she was drinking and had drunk while her parents were over). She talked about her trip to San Fransisco and how she and her girlfriends had shopped at Good Vibrations. She bought a little silver pocket vibe that’s a about an inch long which she keeps in the lipstick case in her purse.

“You can think about me carrying that with me wherever I go.”

“Trust me, I do.”

She started to tell me about the toys her friends have. One of them (the one that lives there) has a very elaborate rabbit-style vibe while the other has toys her husband brought home, but she wouldn’t talk about them. I’m very happy to hear she’s sharing her new sexual adventurism with her friends and I’m thrilled she went to shop for those things and didn’t even tell me about the new little vibe until she got home (even more thrilled to hear she used it before she got home). For a few moments there, I thought she might have told her friends (or, at least the non-uptight one) about what we did, but she never went there. Maybe she has, maybe not. I wouldn’t have a problem with it if she did and actually wish she would since she has no one to talk to about it.

After a long, long back rub and lots of praise by her regarding what a good job I was doing and what a good job I had done all week, she told me to lie down on my back. Oh boy, I thought, here it comes! I’ve been good! She’s going to give me my reward!

“Remember how you’ve said it’s important to have teasing along with the denial?” she asked while fingering the lock.

“Sure,” I answered, wondering what her point was and when she was going to take the device off of me.

“Well, this is the tease part,” she said as she clicked the lock closed.

Fuck. I walked right into that. I’m such a stupid fucking guy.

“Now, you’re going to do your best job using both my vibes on me and then we’re going to go to sleep.”

The little silver vibe sounds like a hyperactive bee. Very different than Pink’s baritone hum. I fucked her with Pink and used the little silver dude on her clit. This was entirely about her. I was doing nothing more than servicing her pussy. None of the ancillary ways in which I scrape together a little sexual satisfaction were available to me. I had to use both hands and had my head down by my work, so I couldn’t play with or suck on her nipples. I wasn’t actually touching her as much as I was touching the devices she told me to use on her. A few minutes earlier I thought I was in line for some kind of action that was going to be all about me and she had totally turned the tables and had me acting like some kind of twisted sexual masseuse while I worked her pussy into an orgasmic frenzy. I really should stop doubting that my Belle hasn’t embraced her role as my dominant, because she very nicely played me like a fucking jukebox.

Belle’s orgasm was unlike any I’ve ever seen her enjoy. Usually, she climbs a giant sloping mountain only to come crashing over a cliff at the end. This time, the combination of getting fucked by Pink – feeling its vibrations deep in her pussy – while the little silver dude spastically assaulted her clit brought her to a high, wide plateau of semi-orgasmic sensation. What I thought was her climax just kept going. Minutes ticked by. I was starting to get worried but then realized she was having an entirely new orgasmic experience. I was simultaneously happy for her and ripped with the aching knowledge that not only was I getting nothing during or after, but that technically speaking, I wasn’t responsible for what she was enjoying. I was only the operator of the little plastic wonders holding her at the very apex of the waterfall. Just a spectator.

Eventually, it ended. I can’t say “she came” because neither of us is sure what she experienced. I think it was a really long, very intense orgasm. But there never seemed to be that one emphatic exclamation point of a moment emblematic of a typical climax. I envy her, though. And I’m glad I was able to be there to see it happen.

April 10, 2009

Übersub

Again this morning with the clear precum leaking out of me. There was a healthy glob of it collected in the end of the tube when I first got out of bed. I cleaned that out, but as I walked around I felt it dripping down my pajama-clad legs all morning. I am now cruising on a wave of sexual frustration equal to anything I’ve experienced before.

Last night, Belle allowed me to give her a foot massage. I stripped and kneeled at her feet. In that position, naked while she was clothed, exposing the chastity device to her clearly (something that I’m still occasionally self conscious about) left me feeling profoundly submissive and the device fully packed and straining. She made a few comments about how good I looked and what a nice job I was doing and that only compounded the feeling. I’ve said before I don’t have any kind of foot fetish, but when I’m in that spot and she’s in the mood she was in last night, I want to kiss and lick her feet – to worship her in that most classic of submissive positions. It was all wonderfully powerful stuff.

Then she wanted a back massage, but not the simple neck-rub-through-the-shirt variety. I was using oil on her naked back. Placing towels under her at the start and being presented with glimpses of her naked breasts made my mouth water. Running my hands over and across her oiled and fragrant skin, kneading her muscles, as I straddled her ass and the device rested in the crack of her ass…nirvana. I gave her the best massage I could, working up a sweat in the process. When she had had enough, I was floating in a sea of sub energy. I felt so relaxed, so content, so happy being there with her, serving her, giving her pleasure. She told me I was a good man and all I could say in response was that I was all hers.

Of course I was unbelievably horny. There had been a constant pressure in the tube from the moment she had me undress, but I didn’t feel any urgency about it. It’s just how I am now. I could have made my feelings known by grinding into her or whining or moaning or some other now-forbidden activity, but I didn’t do any of that. I said I was going to let go of trying to maneuver her towards sex and I have. And, it turns out, there’s a kind of zen that comes from that. It’s like enjoying a fireworks show. You ooh and aah as it comes and just lay there and enjoy the experience. That’s where I was last night: wanting her badly, but feeling no need to try to dictate what happened next.

Which, I expected, would be sleep. She had already fallen asleep earlier putting our daughter to bed and was supremely relaxed from the all the rubbing. In that ubersub headspace, I would have felt zero disappointment or resentment. All I wanted was to please her and make her know how grateful I was to have the chance to do so. But, to my surprise (twice in one week with the surprises), she pulled out Pink, the little vibe that could, and wordlessly handed it to me. I was given the opportunity to perform my third act of service of the evening.

This morning, I’m still glowing (and leaking). I am a very happy bunny and I love my Belle Fille.

April 9, 2009

No guilt zone

Elle, over on Kink Unleashed, seems to be wrestling with something I suspect my Belle also has issues with. Specifically, is it OK to use enforced chastity to make a man act more attentive, affectionate, etc.? Is that manipulative? Is it fair? Feel free to read her post for yourself, but that’s my take on what she was getting at. I left some comments over there that I’d like to expand and extend here.

Right up front I’ll say, yes, I think it’s fair. More than fair. Assuming the underlying relationship is good – that the chastity isn’t being used to “fix” something – and the D/s layer of the stack is humming along, then I say any weapon in the arsenal of the dominant is in play in order to provoke a certain response in the sub. I’d go so far as to say the submissive would welcome being “manipulated” by their dom in such a way. I don’t want Belle to feel any guilt for using whatever power she has over me to in order to make her life a little closer to what she wants or needs it to be. As a matter of fact, I like that kind of shit.

Secondly, Elle seems to suggest (and I know Belle has similar thoughts) that it shouldn’t be necessary to lock up a cock to make a man a better mate. Well, OK, but I think about it this way: Remember back at the beginning of the relationship when everything was new and the guy was super sweet and affectionate and yada yada and all the sex was awesome? From my perspective as a chastised man, all chastity does is recreate the emotional and hormonal atmosphere from those heady, intense days of discovery. No fucking kidding, I have always loved Belle and always will, but what I feel for her now is just as potent and amazing as what I felt when we first started seeing each other. Just as potent, and just as real. Chastising me and denying me and constantly keeping me on an ever-upward spiral of sexual frustration does not create feelings that don’t already exist within me, it amplifies and magnifies and feeds them back on themselves until they consume my mind – just like when I first met and fell in love with her.

And guess what? I like it! I want to feel that way about her. I want my heart to race and the meat between my legs to swell at the slightest of her touches. I want to linger on every kiss. I want the memory of her smell to cause me to daydream about that little spot under her hair, behind her ear, that I love to nibble on. I want to be waiting on her every need and looking for any way I can score points with her. And, I suspect, she likes that, too. As Elle said, what girl doesn’t want an attentive lover? There isn’t one little bit of that attentiveness that is in any way made less genuine just because it’s instigated by a chunk of polycarbonate locked onto a dude’s cock.

I could go on, but Belle’s told me she’d like me to clean the kitchen and make her coffee for the morning. After that, I know there’s a load of laundry downstairs that needs to be folded. Daylight’s wasting.

April 8, 2009

Beat the clock

Day one of the new FLR experiment thingy went pretty well. I was motivated to wash, fold, and put away a couple of loads of laundry, did all the dishes after dinner, went and gassed up Belle’s car for her before work so she wouldn’t have to, got her coffee ready for the morning, and gave her a foot rub before also giving her a neck and shoulder massage. And no, it’s not all hot and steamy, but I did get a certain satisfaction from serving her. I wanted to do all of it and would have actually looked for a few other things, but there’s only so much time. This morning, there were a few things I should have done for her, but she got to them first. It just means I’ll need to be a little quicker next time. At some point, I’d like her to remember she can order me around, but whatever. Baby steps.

When we were finally in bed, the previous night’s sexually induced insomnia had left me totally exhausted. Even though my brain wanted to shut down, my body was too interested in her to let it. The feet and back rubbing had me too worked up and since she was letting me continue to touch her body and was talking to me, there was still a glimmer of hope she’d let me go further. I sure as hell wasn’t going to blink and roll over to sleep.

I was pretty sure she was debating internally whether she wanted a little something. I skated the seam between being affectionate and loving (and, hopefully, encouraging her to make the decision I wanted) and being overtly sexual. It has to be assumed by her that when I’m in this state, I am always ready for sex, but I am not allowed to make that too obvious. I can’t ask, can’t suggest, can’t lobby, beg or imply, and can’t be excessively forward in my actions. In short, no matter how badly I want to go down on her or fuck her senseless, I have to show composure and wait for her to offer. If Belle had said thanks sweetie and turned her back to me, I would have been disappointed, but would not have been allowed to register that disappointment in any way. Because, of course, it’s not about me. Sex is for her now. What she wants and when she wants it with the only goal being that of her total satisfaction. If she wants to throw me a bone just because she’s nice, then good for me, but I can’t sit at the table and drool while looking at it.

In any event, she finally rolled over and looked at the clock. I expected her to next say it was time to sleep, but instead she told me I had ten minutes to make her come. Ten minutes!? I felt like Augustus Gloop in that scene from Willy Wonka where he first sees the room where everything is made of candy, but I fought the urge to eat everything in sight. I needed to pace myself knowing ten minutes was actually way longer than I needed to make her come. If I rushed it, I’d be leaving all that body access time on the table (and maybe get sucked into a tube and sent to the Fudge Room…or something). Eventually, I found my face planted on her snatch, hungrily eating her out. It was glorious. I wasn’t checking the clock, but when she finally went over the falls, it had been exactly ten minutes.

Afterward, I did not feel the usual pseudo post-orgasmic satisfaction I feel when she’s come. Her orgasm wasn’t quite enough for the reptilian sex monster living within. Vivid images of me fucking her flashed though my mind. The memory of the what the hard cock felt like in her wet pussy insisted that I move forward – that I mount her and fuck her. But that was impossible. If I had been out of the device, she would have felt my desire and might have even indulged me, but the plastic feels hard no matter the condition of what’s inside. Since I wasn’t demonstrating how badly I wanted her, there was no way for her to know it. When she declared the evening’s activities at a close and, of course, it was clear I would get nothing else, it was wickedly disappointing. But it was as it should have been and entirely what I should have expected.

I spooned into her, told her I loved her, and thanked her for the opportunity to make her happy.

April 7, 2009

Dreaming of steel

The San Quentin of trapped-ball chastity devices

My severe horniness combined with my dopey sleepiness has left me fairly unproductive today. Surfing through my collection of chastity and denial sites finds me again and again at the Steelworxx website. Why? Because, for the 124th time, I’m pricing out the stainless beauty to the right.

For the record, I want the Steelheart, sized about the same as my CB-6000, with an integrated lock and PA fixing. That’ll set me back €296…which, I think, is something like Monopoly money. I’m not sure. Oh, I see. According to Google, at this moment in time, €296 equals $393. That’s a lot of cabbage.

I like the Steelheart for a few reasons. One, it’s designed using a simple aesthetic; natural curve, super-clean lines, and a single hole for urination. IMO, so much more beautiful than the CB6K’s logic-puzzlesque look. Two, I have a well-known fetish for stainless steel. Three, I like that when it’s worn it doesn’t appear to cover the penis as much as it appears to have replaced it with a shiny steel prosthetic. At least in a CB6K you can still be connected with Mr. Winky through the convenient visitor’s window-like plastic. With the Steelheart, your little man is doing hard time in solitary. Über. Fucking. Hot. (I’ve been doing that period-between-each-word thing a lot lately, haven’t I?) Finally, with the added option of an integrated lock, the entire package ends up being less bulky than the CB6K by a long shot. I’d also imagine it would be more comfortable for Belle when I spoon (and, occasionally, grind) into her.

The reviews (here, here, here, here, oh hell, just search Google) all seem to be universally positive. Now if I can only talk Belle into getting it for me. Hey, father’s day is coming up! What says to dad how much you love him better than a stainless steel cock prison!?

April 7, 2009

PA cable project est morte

I put a bullet in the head of the brief-yet-storied PA cable project this morning. I cut the fucker off as soon as I got out of bed. At least for how I’m configured, I can’t see any way a cable through my PA ring will ever work as a permanent security measure. It’s just too painful, in the supernotsexy way. Either the ring is pulling on the piercing or the cable itself is poking into the spongy tissue of the penis head or pinching my scrotum or whatever. Maybe if you’re the kind of guy who’s flaccid state is on the longer side (a shower rather than a grower), it’d work. But if you’re like me and often see the resting version of your little buddy only filling about 60% of the CB6K tube, I think it’s a no go.

Belle unlocked me before she left for work so I could install the smaller A ring and the KSD-G3. I took the opportunity to clean myself and the device, shave, etc. As I withdrew the penis from the tube, I saw gobs of clear, thick fluid. And it just kept coming. I was careful not to handle the merchandise any more than necessary (I didn’t even get an erection), but the precum just kept leaking and leaking. I don’t know – maybe a tablespoon? It was crazy. Even now, 90 minutes later, I can feel little burps of the stuff oozing out every once in a while. So, uh, yeah. I’d say I’m pretty focused at the moment.

Anyway, I’m way over trying to wire the device to myself and am now content with having a pretty secure device as opposed to a totally secure one.

April 6, 2009

Rewired

I won’t be trying anything for at least a week, though. Even if I’m not dealing with little cuts and it’s only abraded and raw, I need time to heal.

A week? A whole week? Nah. How about a day. Max.

I was soaking in the bath yesterday and realized, since I’m wearing the 1 7/8″ ring, that I could slip the tube off without hardly trying. Before, I would have shrugged it off, but now that I’ve had a taste of stainless steel enforced security, it’s totally unacceptable. You might be asking yourself what I’m going to do about it since I can’t unlock the thing. Turns out, you can wire yourself up pretty easily, even when locked, assuming you’re fabricating the cable at the same time.

The first approach I took was to loop the cable around the PA ring directly and then (a la Birdlock) loop it under my balls onto the CB6K’s ring. I figured the cable could be shorter that way and might even move around easier. Unfortunately, it was pretty uncomfortable. The cable around the cock ring kept pinching my scrotum skin. My second approach was to affix a permanent loop around the PA ring and another around the padlock. I figure this would greatly reduce the amount of wire I was carrying around in my crotch. This was what I slept with last night.

Well, tried to sleep with. I need Belle back in bed with me. Somehow, when she’s there and I can hold her, I fall asleep easier than if she’s not. This seems counter-intuitive to me, but it is what it is. Without her there, I’m just too damned horny to drift off. The sex lizard in my subconscious keeps interjecting erotic thoughts into my brain as I lay there. That causes the tube to fill which in turn reminds me of my status and what I can’t do about it. The engorgement subsides after a few minutes, but I find myself wanting to feel it again as soon as it’s gone. I think I finally fell asleep around 1:00 AM.

At 4:00, the cable woke me up. The aluminum ferrule had ridden up into the tube and was pinching me when I was hard. In fact, the fixed hoop’s inflexibility and the close proximity of the ferrule to sensitive meat is the downfall of that particular design. Once awake, the aforementioned subconscious lizard kept me up for the rest of the night.

Now, I’m back to the original design but with a slightly longer cable. So far, so good. Haven’t felt any pulling or other pain. The cable does form a bit of a hard point where it’s bent around the PA ring and that does occasionally poke the part of the head of the cock between the PA hole and urethral opening, but it’s manageable so far.

In other chastity nerdery news, I’m somewhat amazed at how my scrotum has adjusted to the device. For the longest time, it would be stretched tight, especially at night. But now, even when engorged, I find a noticeable amount of loose skin. Overall comfort has increase dramatically. I may have finally and fully “outgrown” the 1 7/8″ ring.

Be sure to check back later for another exciting entry in Thumper’s PA cable saga.

April 5, 2009

Unwired

I cut the wire off. The pain was getting worse and more frequent so I didn’t really have much choice. I’m pretty sure I know what happened, though. I’m currently wearing a 6ga segment ring in my PA instead of my old 8ga captive ball ring. The segment ring, when assembled, looks like a continuous and (mostly) smooth ring. In the case of mine (and maybe all of them) there remains a very small gap between the segment and the ring into which it snaps. While the ring is in, it rotates freely through the piercing. Sometimes the segment disappears into the head of the cock, sometimes it’s visible.

Well, what I think happened was that the gap between the segment and the ring, when rotated into the head of the dick, was being pulled against the incredibly sensitive tissue in there when the shaft was trying to retract. The edges of the ring are actually pretty sharp (sharper than they appear in the picture). I wasn’t being pinched as much as I was getting cut. Owie. So anyway, the wire’s off and I haven’t felt anything except during the night and this morning when I was fully engorged (“erect” doesn’t seem like the right word). Well see how the day goes. Belle (and the key) gets back Monday night. If I feel like I need to remove the ring, I’ll need to stage a breakout from the CB6K. I really have no idea if I can get the entire thing off when it’s locked. Hopefully, I won’t need to find out.

In the future, I’ll either need to make the wire a little longer so it doesn’t pull at all or I’ll need to get a 6ga captive ball ring. On the one hand, it won’t have any exposed sharp edges like the segment does, but on the other hand, the ball will keep everything from moving as freely and will eat up just that much more internal volume from the tube (which already gets a little crowded). I won’t be trying anything for at least a week, though. Even if I’m not dealing with little cuts and it’s only abraded and raw, I need time to heal.

April 4, 2009

Pinch pinch

Well, maybe I spoke too soon when I gave my homebrew PA cable the old Thumper seal of approval. Today, I’m getting sporadic, intense pinching sensations from the area around the piercing. Like right now ouch ouch ouchouchOUCH!

OK, it stopped. Kinda. I think this is being caused by one of two things. It could be that the piercing is being aggravated by some pulling. Even though it has a lot more leeway from the cable sliding in and out of the tube, there is still a minor amount of pulling. If the cable went in about a quarter inch more, it’d be better. The other, and I think more likely, option is that the segment ring is pinching some of my skin on the little lip caused by the flared “penis head” shape of the CB-6000 tube. Once in a while, this area swells a little while I’m locked up and I’m experiencing that now. This pinching is not a new sensation. I’ve felt it occasionally when wearing a curved bar bell, but it’s always passed fairly quickly. Now, though, it appears as though the wire holding the ring will allow it to retreat just enough to pinch a wad skin on that little ridge – and hold it there. In any event, this is not the good kind of pain. It’s the “oh Jesus, get this thing off of me” kind of pain. I’m going to give it to the end of the day and see if it gets better. I might have to cut the wire off. That would suck, big time.

Meanwhile, I’m horny as a phrynosoma platyrhinos. Once the offspring were down for the count last night, I spent the better part of the evening reading chastity and denial porn (which, by the way, is even more formulaic than normal porn) and otherwise making myself hot and bothered. When I’m alone like that, I feel as though I can get myself so turned on than I could ignite a match just by holding it between my fingers. It doesn’t make a lot of sense, but I think the new cable actually enhanced my arousal. In the past, I’ve always known in the back of my mind that I was choosing to leave the device in place, but now I know that I have no choice at all. It’s way. Fucking. Hotter.

Eventually, I decided to try to sleep (since, of course, I was never going to be able to alleviate my condition) and I just laid there, tossing and turning. I was afraid of repeating that horrible night last time Belle was absent when my abject horniness kept me awake for a day and a half, but, with the help of my iPhone and a relaxing noise generator app, eventually drifted off. My sleep was fitfull. The CB6K seemed to be straining all night long. Regardless, I know I’ll do it to myself all over again tonight.