Tag: enforced chastity

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Mailbag

TK has some questions:

Been following your blog for a while – finally decided to catch up from the beginning (I’m up to March 2013). You’ve been helpful in so many ways, and you’re a great writer, so thank you. I have two questions – if you have a moment to respond, I’d really appreciate it. You answered a question about the MM a few months ago, so we will be buying a new device in the next few weeks. However, it’s cold here (North East) – but I noticed you’re in MN – so my first question – how do you wear any of your devices when it’s this cold out ? My testicles recede so far into my body when it’s 5 degrees out, it’s like they’re up by my neck somewhere. I’m terrified of trying that while wearing the device.

Usually not a problem for me. I’m rarely out for more than a little bit without underwear or normal pants (like to drag the trash to the curb or whatever) and can only think of a few times when the boys tried to crawl up inside me and were thwarted by the steel ring. However, I can also say that being locked up for so many years now that my ball sack is much looser than it used to be. That might have something to do with it. Without a device on, I’m just about as far away from “high and tight” as a guy can get. Occupational hazard, I guess.

My advice is to make sure you’re in underwear (layers help with warmth) and thicker material pants until you’ve figured out how you’re going to react.

Second question (related) is what you do about pants while wearing the device. I’ve slowly been weaned off of baggy (i.e. comfortable) clothing in favor of tight jeans (part of our dynamic revolves around my wardrobe) – I’m not sure how I’d wear the device for any extended period in jeans. Right now, it’s a nighttime only device, and only during certain times of the month.

Skinny jeans and a chastity device you don’t want people to see don’t mix. Also, there’s a definite comfort issue. Not all are created the same, though. I could probably easily wear the Looker 02 in tight pants without too much trouble. The Steelheart would end up crushing my nuts flat. And, you know, there’s the stealth question. You don’t say what device you’re going to get, but a standard CB-6000 would stand out quite visibly. If making your condition obvious to passers by is also part of your dynamic, then score! If not, you may want to look into some looser clothing, for the sake of your modesty and your anatomy.

Doug asks:

Hi, I’ve been following your blog for some time now and usually check daily for updates.

Bless you.

I’m a young, single, gay male with an interest in chastity.

FUCK, that’s so hot to me. Why is that so hot?

I’ve locked for a few days at a time in a cb6000s over the past couple years and enjoy the intense horniness and frustration and all that comes with being locked and denied.

Almost three weeks ago I purchased a Jailbird knockoff, locked my penis in it and gave the keys to a friend. This week and today in particular I have been horny to the point of continual distraction. I have to admit that I have a love/hate relationship with it and I want to continue and stay locked and denied for a few months or so.

The love/hate thing is awesome, isn’t it? I think it is. Clawing at the cage wanting what’s inside but not being able to get at it. Lovely.

After reading your posts on That Little Cupid Prick, I thought I’d drop you a line (sorry this is becoming so lengthy) to ask how you manage the intense, distracting horniness. I had trouble getting anything accomplished at work today because of it. I only expect the horniness to continue and grow over time (which I want, btw 🙂 ) but need to learn how to deal with it. I’m sure part of it is just the nature of the beast and I have to deal with it. Do you have any tips or thoughts?

Regarding the distraction thing, all I can say is it gets better. At first, it’s really hard to concentrate. How long will it take to get to a manageable place? Hard to say. We’re all different. The good news is, it isn’t an ever-upwards ramp into the heavens. Eventually, your hormones will plateau and even fluctuate downward from time to time. Those days aren’t any fun, either, but for a different reason. Also, the first week or two are always the worst.

I could tell you to stop looking at things like this blog which only feed your fevered sexual state. Stay off the Tumblr, etc. But I know you won’t because I’ve been there (am almost always there) and you’re going to do what you’re going to do. You could try channeling that energy into other physical activity. Use your powers for good, so to speak, while you wait for the initial rush of hormones to wash through you.

Chas inquires:

I’ve been wearing a CB6000s on and off for 2 plus years and my wife has decided that its time to upgrade to steel due to aesthetics, hygiene, comfort and hopefully long term 24/7 wear. Even with extensive rounding of the 6s base ring I develop a nasty sore spot on my upper right side (my right side definitely hangs higher than the left. Day to day this irritation is minimal and keeping it lubricated goes a long way towards preventing it. The problem is nocturnal erections where I wake up with an attempted raging hardon and it backs up in my body and the A ring is deeply dug in as the whole package is being pushed away from my body.

BEEN THERE. I really grew to hate that fucking ring. I had exactly the same issue as you in exactly the same spot.

We are planning on ordering from Mature Metal with my wife leaning towards the Queens keep or the Jailbird.  My question is regarding the tube length. MM and I believe you recommend have a tube length that is shorter than your flaccid length. My thinking is the shorter length is going to make the pulling and resulting digging of the ring that much worse. Also do you have any recommendations as to the ring thickness (Double ring?) in terms of comfort and or minimizing irritation. Any guidance or suggestions would be greatly appreciated.

I think it should minimally be the same length as your flaccid state, erring on the short side, yes. It seems counterintuitive but, in my experience, creating more room in the tube leads to a greater degree of discomfort. As if letting the penis achieve partial erection and then stopping it hurts more than forcing it to stay at its normal soft state. Yes, that will lead to pulling. No doubt about it. But that’ll happen anyway and won’t be nearly as uncomfortable in a smooth, rounded steel ring as it is in the torture device otherwise known as the CB-6000 A-ring. Assuming the ring is sized right, it’s actually a feeling I really enjoy. (Another benefit of a shorter tube is easier concealment and lighter weight.)

Regarding Mature Metal’s ring, I do recommend the double thick option. Their rings are a narrower gauge than Steelworxx and I found them to be a bit more biting. Doubling the ring thickness added a lot of comfort. Don’t forget to add the thickness of the extra ring to the overall length of the device.

PS How is your book writing coming along? I look forward to reading it.

Ah, yes. That.

My feeling now is I’m not going to write a book, per se, but publish a series of long articles here on the blog. That way, I could kick them out in a more serialized fashion. Instead of charging for a book download, I’ll likely create some way for those interested to optionally toss a few shekels my way. Like a tip jar. Also, my work style is much more collaborative than solo, so I’d like to garner feedback from my readers as to what topics the “book” should cover. Something to help me devise a structure for the thing.

Before I wrap, I’ll highlight a couple of great things I came across recently. First is a Tumblr called Erotic Drawings. Men In Bondage filled with original pen and pencil sketches of…well, men in bondage (having been put there by other men). It’s really beautiful work. Even though they’re drawn in a rushed and somewhat crude style you still get a sense of emotion and can empathize with the guys tied up. Woof.

Second thing is an episode of a podcast I’ve just found. The show’s called Men Submit and the episode in question is number nine on — what else? — chastity. Listening to them, I found myself nodding my head in familiar agreement half the time and wanting to butt in to build on or clarify a point the other half. I enjoyed the conversation and only wish it could have been longer. Regular readers of this blog should check it out.

That’s all I got for now. If you have a question or comment or other morsel of communicative goodness you want to pass my way, don’t forget about the feedback page.

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Sunday of Sex, part one

I woke up before Belle Sunday morning which is fairly typical. I layed there, snuggled into her warmth with my arms and legs wrapped around her, Steelheart packed tight, sex simmering inside me. That’s a tricky time for me because I know she’s more willing to fuck me on weekend mornings so all my Spidey senses are tingling and I’m anxious for her to wake up but I don’t want to be the cause of making that happen.

I rolled away and looked at my phone. Mostly smut which made the device go from comfortably packed to almost painfully so and Belle rolled over and put her hand on my chest, still dozing. Fuck if I didn’t almost combust at the touch. That’s all it takes, of course. Simple touches. Little touches. And I get all dopey.

Eventually she woke up. I moved into her. Her hand absently found my balls. She brushed her fingertips over the only part of my genitals that could feel pleasure. More little touches. I got up on my hands and knees over her and kissed her face. She continued to tickle my balls, now pulled tight by the achingly hard meat inside the steel tube.

I asked her what she wanted that morning. How could I make her come? What was her pleasure to be? After some time making me almost debilitated from the raging hard-on stuffed through the Steelheart’s tight ring, she decided this morning would be the debut of Maverick. I hobbled out of bed to get the harness and big dildo together and she pulled off all her bedclothes.

Even though it means I’ll be getting even less of a thrill than usual, I do find that the sensation of pulling the harness on, up and over my ass, straps on both sides of the device, through my legs and up my crack, to be terrifically erotic. I fucking love straps and buckles and everything to do with them. The Maverick was a tight fit through the harness’ O-ring, but once through it stuck out from me in a way no cock ever has and hung heavily against the steel chastity device.

I climbed back into bed and latched onto Belle’s nipple with my mouth. My hand was in her snatch and felt her heat and wetness. She luxuriated in my petting of her for a long time. I ran my fingers through her pussy, over her other nipple, and back again. After a bit, taking her time, she put her own fingers down there. Hers and mine mixed in her wetness and over her folds.

After a bit of this, she made a move to climb up on top of me and down onto the Maverick. I had placed some lube on it beforehand, but the Vixskin material and her dripping wetness were such that it was likely unnecessary. I left my hand down there so I could feel the fat black cock as it slid into her. Open her. Based on her expression, it was an intense sensation, but she soon warmed to its heft and her pace quickened. Once I figured she was ready, I started to fuck back. I reached around and pressed on the small of her back with my palm. She humped it even faster, eyes closed, mouth shaped like an O. Her orgasm seemed to last as long as the dildo inside her.

She layed on top of me and basked. The penis started to flex and surge, almost of its own accord. I felt nothing but tight steel push back. Not soft and warm pussy. Not what the Maverick would have been feeling had it been living meat and not man-made.

She rolled off and the Maverick slapped back to hit my stomach. I gripped it like a real cock and stroked it using the remaining wetness of her pussy. So big. It felt warm and alive, but there was no sensation for me except frustration.

“God, I wish I could fuck you right now.” It’s how I felt so I said it, but I wasn’t asking. Leaving me locked up would have been almost as good as letting me out, but for different reasons. Somewhat to my surprise, she got up to get the key.

Once out, I immediately climbed on top of her. The penis slid in effortlessly. I groaned, “This is how I love to feel you.”

“Really? I can barely feel you,” she said innocently. But the comment struck me. It was exactly what the bunny wanted to hear and exactly not what the lizard wanted. “Seriously, it’s like the penis isn’t even there.”

Moar groaning.

I fucked her with practically no friction. The fat dildo had taken that from me before I got there. Taken her. And that’s what I loved feeling. Second. Smaller. As if she was only doing me a favor after being pleasured by something closer to the size she prefers. I do not pretend to understand how all my kinks work, this one in particular. It’s outside the sensibility of most and what made me so hard and almost drunk on passion would make other men shrivel up and assume the fetal position. I’m not saying there isn’t pain in knowing what really gets her off is something so much bigger than what I have. But in the same way I love the sting of the strap across my ass or of the ache of her fist punching my nuts, the searing comprehension that I am and always will be less than she really wants fires both pleasure and pain circuits.

More than that, I crave to hear her twist the knife. To remind me why we need Blue and the Maverick. To say it’s like I’m not even fucking her once they’re done making her come.

Which of these things is not like the others?On the practical side, Belle said the Maverick felt smaller than Blue. As you can see, they’re very close to the same size, though Maverick’s head is more pronounced with a dramatic flare Blue lacks. It’s possible Blue, in use, is fatter, but since I’ve never measured it with the hard penis in place, I don’t know. She also prefers Blue’s veiny texture over Maverick’s smoothness. Almost too smooth, she says. The little dildo they’re with is Vixen’s Tex. That was the one we got when we first started to experiment with strap-on sex years ago and it was picked because it was almost exactly the same size as the penis when hard. The penis’ head isn’t quite as impressive, though. In any event, it’s a striking visual demonstration as to why she could barely feel me inside her. It’s also interesting to note that Belle didn’t much like using dildos back when we were using one specifically chosen as the closest to me.

I don’t know how long I fucked her, but she was very indulgent. I never got very close to coming and didn’t even leak. Not enough friction, I suppose, though it was painful being told I needed to stop. She told me I could stay out of the Steelheart a little while, so I was free as we went out for brunch with Kid #2. Kid #1 was at an all-day school event and Kid #2 was going to go shopping with a friend around noon, so we had to get moving.

All in all, I would have chalked Sunday morning’s encounter up as quite lovely and pleasurable. Little did I know we weren’t done yet. Not by half.

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Further Looker 02 observations

I’ve been in the Looker 02 for two weeks now and am about to come out for our trip to NYC. Belle’s told me I’ll be free n’ floppy whilst visiting Gotham. Still kinda unclear if I’m out of the orgasm warning window or not, but maybe that’s by design.

Anyway, I thought this would be a good time to make some observations about the L02 since it’s been a while since I spent this much time in it.

Running: A while back, I went into the L02 for a day and had to get out because I went to the gym right after putting it on and ran three miles on the treadmill. A few hours later, it felt like someone had shoved broken glass up my urethra. Yeah, just like that. It seems as though for the first 24 hours or so things can be a little tender and susceptible to irritation and during that period an activity like running isn’t something I’d advise. However, once the penis gets used to being impaled, things tend to settle down and running isn’t a problem. In fact, I just ran four miles yesterday (about 14 in the last two weeks) and I felt nary a twinge. I find that the longer I wear the Looker and its insert the more comfortable it becomes.

Gym: I have already learned this lesson, but the L02 can only be worn to the gym with dark colored pants/shorts and highly supportive (read: tight) underwear. When I wore it with my gray shorts the other day, I was on my eighth or ninth inclined sit-up before I noticed the contours of the Looker’s cage were quite visible through that light-colored material. The Steelheart (which I assume I’ll be wearing when we get back from New York) tends not to be so visible in those kinds of positions because it’s heavier and drops lower between my legs. All this continues to beg the question in my mind as to what my trainer thinks of all these odd bulges and what it will take for him to finally come out and ask me about it.

Risk: My description of putting the L02 back on after sex the other day prompted reader Thom to comment:

Hmm. Sterilization of anything that goes up the urethra has always worried me enough to not try out a plug (even if I got my hands on some surgical lube). Granted, I haven’t done much reading on sounding. Did you address that issue in another post I’m forgetting about? Because, I mean, sliding the bulb of the plug in with the help of all those body fluids is hot, but it sounds iffy to my ears…

Sterilization and surgical lube sounds very sensible. But really, there isn’t much about long term chastity and denial that is sensible. I’ve opined on this before. There is risk inherent in everything worth doing and, for me, shoving a titanium rod up the penis for weeks at a time is, oddly enough, worth doing. But regardless. I just don’t think there’s much to worry about re: inserting body fluids up there.

The lovely thing about a penis is its flushed out with large quantities of sterile fluid several times a day. In addition, the insert only goes about 3″ up and that seems to be far enough away from my bladder to avoid any kind of infection. I am, of course, no doctor and am totally unqualified to dispense medical advice, but my experience in wearing the Looker 02 for weeks at a time suggests it’s minimally not easy to get something like a UTI from using it.

Pole action: Lastly, my experience with the Looker 02 demonstrates that if Belle ever lets us invest in something like the Steelwerks Extreme PA Classic it’s tube will have to be shorter than the L02. Or even the Holy Trainer which is the shortest tube I’ve worn. The penis still tends to occasionally shrink up and not fill the L02’s cage (especially when working out) leaving a bit of the insert exposed. If I was wearing a device where the insert was secured through my PA, it’d end up being painful when the penis shrank and pulled on the PA fixing. This is what happened when I experimented with a PA cable back in the CB6K days. The only difference was, back then, the tube was so much longer than what I wear today. Still, I suspect that any pulling on the piercing will prove uncomfortable.

In any event, if you told me back when I started this that some day I’d be pondering living day in and day out in a tube about one third the length of the penis when it’s hard, I’d be very surprised.

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No promises

Belle told me this morning before she went to work that I’d get to make her come tonight. Plus, I’d get to choose how. All day I thought about that. I thought about my tongue in her snatch and flicking over her clit. All day.

After work, I had to cart the kids all over hell and back and started to feel really tired. Was I going to be too tired to get her off? By about 8:00, I was running on empty but then the last kid was carted home and I changed out of my day clothes and climbed into bed and the prospect of Belle’s wet pussy seemed to be recharging me.

But Belle was tired. She took off her glasses and placed them on the nightstand. She was easing into her “going to sleep” mode and there were still kids awake and I saw the light at the end of my tunnel, which had been rushing towards me minutes ago, start to recede.

Then she turned over and closed her eyes.

“But…”

“I’m tired, Thumper.”

I could hear my heart thumping in my ears. Felt heat on my face. Loss.

Her prerogative, I thought. Embrace it. You’re powerless.

Now I’m tossing and turning and so tired but the stupid fucking penis keeps swelling and filling the Looker’s cage and squeezing its insert and the very sensation of impotent frustration is fueling my horniness. I am not in charge at all and I don’t even get to complain because she gets to arbitrarily withdraw earlier commitments and I have to accept it. There are no promises. I can expect nothing. I deserve nothing. And she carries no guilt. Nor should she.

Denial is more than just absence of orgasms.

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Dishwasher domination

Following this weekend’s activities, I’m left wondering if Belle’s warning of impending orgasm has passed. I know, I could just ask her, but let’s not kid ourselves. By writing these words, I am, in a way, asking her. I don’t want to pressure her, though, and she’s not always happy when I’m asking her about her future plans. This is just passive-aggressive enough, thank you very much.

Absent any other ideas of her intentions, I assume Sunday’s after-nap funfest was exactly what she was looking for (she even texted me Monday morning praising it again) and, since she was able to get it even without having me come, I think of it as an overall success. The best part was, I did want to come in her. A lot. Totally would have had she just said the word. But now, after the fact, I’m glad she didn’t.

Over on the Twitter, poor said something that got me thinking.

I wonder, if Belle wasn’t part of my life and I had no partner, would I still be into denial? I don’t think so. I really like jacking off and, believe it or not, I really like coming. I might still like the idea of chastity because I’ve always had a nascent kink involving penis bondage and constriction, but I doubt I’d deny myself for more than an extended edging session.

And that train of thought makes me realize that, for me, denial is all about my relationship. I want to be denied because of how it makes me feel about Belle. Not because I hate orgasms. I don’t. But I do love my wife and I know denial makes me a better mate. But it’s not alchemy. That is, it doesn’t create commitment out of thin air or transmute resentment into adoration. It nurtures a seed. It’s more like an amplifier that way.

For example. This morning, I was getting ready for the gym and noticed as I was putting my breakfast dishes in the sink that the dishwasher was full of clean dishes. I had time, so I started to unload it. This sounds pretty mundane, but there was a time when I wouldn’t have thought to do it. It just wouldn’t have occurred to me. Now, it does. Not only that, but as I was putting the plates in the cupboard, I thought how pleased Belle would be to find the dishes put up and the sink clean and I actually started to pop a boner. I mean, seriously. I chubbed out (as best the L02 would let it) just by thinking about how I was doing something Belle would find satisfaction with. Then I made the bed. Then I went to the gym.

It doesn’t really matter that a good spouse and partner should be doing those things anyway. What matters is, because I’m so much more in tune with what makes her happy and so much more invested in that happiness, we both feel good about it. It’s a way to make mundane tasks a lot more interesting.

When I got back from the gym, Belle told me how pleased she was with me. So much so that tonight I could choose how I’d get to make her come. (Decisions, decisions.) All that because of the dishwasher.

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Stong-armed

We took a Sunday afternoon nap. That means, Belle slept and I kinda dozed and eventually woke up and looked at my phone until she was done snoozing.

“Is the door locked?” she asked sleepily.

I nodded. She kissed me on the mouth.

“What did you have in mind?” I asked. I was told to be ready to come out of the device but she had left me in. I had no idea what she wanted, though I figured it would likely be a quickie fingered orgasm.

“I’m letting you out.”

All right, Thumper. Game on.

She handed me the key and I pulled the covers down. I was already naked so I stuck the key in the little brass lock and turned it. The lock slid from its chamber freeing the cage from its cockring mate. Setting the lock and key aside, I pulled the cage off and felt the bulb end of the Looker 02’s urethral insert slither its way down the inside of the shaft it had secured for a week. It caught briefly in the head of the penis and then popped out. Then I pushed the thickening meat back through the ring and winced as the testicles popped through, right first then left. I was free. The steel was on the nightstand.

When I rolled back over towards her, she was naked. The penis was hard and, as I wrapped my arms around her, it brushed against her thigh. The feeling of it caused me to gasp slightly. From no sensation to the best sensation in under 30 seconds.

“How can I serve you, Belle Fille?”

“I want you.”

“Do I get to come?” The $64,000 question. I was ready for whatever she said.

“…No,” she replied evenly.

Instinct took over. I climbed between her legs and pushed the end of the aching meat against the lips of her pussy. She was dry, but I pushed in. I wanted in. She felt tight. Lack of natural lube and at least two weeks since anything had been in her. I shifted my hips to gain further penetration. I was gambling that she wanted it a little rough. A little guy-centric. A moment later, the penis found her hot and wet. She sighed.

“I have no idea why I did that,” I said.

“It feels good,” she purred, “Really good.”

“Is this what you wanted?”

“Yes…”

I pulled the hard shaft out and pushed it back in, spreading her gathering wetness around. I bent my head down and started to suck on her nipple while I fucked her slowly. I shifted again and pushed in as deep as I could, wrapping one arm around her shoulders and placing the other hand in the small of her back. I wrapped her in my strength and exerted just enough pressure for her to feel that I was holding her tight and she couldn’t get out. Not that she wanted to.

I thought fucking slow would let me last longer and I felt I was doing a pretty good job being as leisurely as possible. Her snatch was hot and totally wet now. Her breathing was starting to get more shallow.

“Oh, fuck,” she whispered.

That was it. I can go for a long time and trick the orgasm that wants out into holding its own, but once I hear her start to really get into it, I lose my cool. Two or three slow thrusts later, I had to stop. I could feel the ejaculate locked and loaded. She wanted me to keep going, though, and wiggled her hips. That was enough to trigger a long jet to shoot out of me and into her. I had to pull out to keep it from going any further. She had said, no orgasm.

Now that I had her going, I didn’t want her to lose momentum. I quickly worked my way down to her pussy and dove in. Immediately, my mouth was full of my own seed. I swallowed it down and worked my tongue over her clit, lapping more of myself than seemed possible as it continued to leak from her. My throat was thick with it and its scent mixed with hers to fill my senses. My hands worked their way up to her breasts and tweaked her nipples as I eagerly ate her out. I wondered if this is what it would be like on those night she had her boyfriend over. Would she let me off the floor long enough to clean his semen from her before they slept in the warm bed and I on the hard floor? Would he watch or already have fallen asleep in his post-orgasmic stupor?

Belle’s hips started to buck. She was moaning and pushing against my forehead with the palm of her hand as the intensity of her orgasm crested but I pushed back harder keeping my tongue working over her electrified clit. Her legs crushed my skull and she pulled a fistful of my hair while her ass was off the bed. If she wanted to be taken hard, I was going to make her fucking well feel this orgasm.

Once it was over, I rested my face against her inner thigh and kissed at her taut tendons as she came down a little. The mixture of scents was intoxicating to me. I almost felt dizzy from all the pheromones attacking my brain. I climbed back up her body so that I was between her legs again. She took the penis in her hand and guided it into her.

Jesus fuck, was she hot and slick. Her juices, my semen and spit, and the full ripeness of her post-orgasmic pussy all mixed together and I started to fuck her. Hard. I could still smell us both in the smeared fluids that covered half my face and it drove me mad. It wasn’t long before I could feel the building orgasm and I. Wanted. It.

“Can I come?”

“No.”

Ugh. Wimper.

I stuttered and stopped just long enough for it to climb back up inside me and then I had my hard, strong arms back around her, holding her tight and close. I buried my face in her neck and clung tightly to her and fucked her harder than I had in a long, long time. The lizard was off his leash and going to town. This was just fucking. Just me having my way with her. Doing her. Nothing gentle or submissive about it. I felt another orgasm winding up. A big one. The one I wanted. The lizard said DO IT but the bunny fought back. Each thrust into her caused her to exhale a little. There was no tenderness in what I was doing to her. No room for that. Just lust and desire and burning intensity.

“Come on!” I said to myself under my breath as I slammed into her. Not sure to who I said it or what it meant, but there was a stand-off inside me. Would I? Or not?

Of course not. In the end, I tensed up and then just knew. It wasn’t happening. It was like the lizard’s back was broken. Again. He slinked off and I shuddered and collapsed onto Belle.

“OK, Thumper, that’s enough.”

I panted. Gasped. Gathered myself.

“Is it what you wanted?” I asked quietly.

“Yes.”

—

We laid in bed a long time after. I felt both the feelings of sleepy post-orgasm and the raw edge of continued desire for her. I wanted her to throw me over onto my back, crawl on top of me, and fuck me until I came. I told her.

“No you don’t.”

“Yes I do.”

“No you don’t.”

“Yes, really, I do.”

After a bit, I said, “OK, just between you and me, you can admit it now. You wish the penis was bigger, don’t you?”

She laughed. “No!”

“Yes you do. I know you do.”

She laughed some more. “Well…just a little.”

“OH! So it’s true! Now all I need to get you to do is admit that while we’re having sex.”

We both laughed.

Before I got out of bed, the Looker went back on. The fat bulb on the end of the insert pushed past the opening of the penis (helped along by the slick presence of ejacualte and pussy juice). The penis fought back and tried to grow, but that just made it all the tighter when the lock found its home and the key came out.

She held out her hand and I put the key in it. Belle got exactly what she wanted. I hope she always does.

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Coconuts and candlelight

Last night, with only candles illuminating the room, I was kneeling naked at end of the bed except for the Looker 02 and massaging Belle’s feet with coconut foot lotion. I asked Belle what one thing has changed most for her in our dynamic since we started it.

Her answer was that she was more confident in her role and less worried and/or guilty about what I was going through. My periodic whining about being so horny and desperate rarely phases her anymore. At the beginning, our exploration of chastity and denial and female domination were all as a result of a difficult phase in our marriage (not a unique story) and she accepted the dynamic more as a reaction to all that. We were not in an especially healthy place, though I think we’re now in the midst of the best, most intimate years of our relationship. In any event, that was her answer. Confidence. Learning how to make my denial her own, so to speak. That comes with time, of course, and experience.

She asked me the same question. I said I wasn’t as urgent as in the early years. There was an imperative that drove me. Hard to describe, really, but I seemed to be in a terrible hurry to get all that denying denied. Also, while I was ascribing a desire to submit to her authority and control over me and my sex, I ended up being a headwind for her in trying to find her path. I had my own ideas and my life-long conditioning as a male in our culture left me with residual feelings and impulses very much at odds with what I was saying I wanted. Once I accepted that I didn’t deserve anything, that I really didn’t want to deserve anything, that the best sex was the sex she wanted and not the sex I tried to push onto her, I found the turbulence within me subsided. Somehow, somewhere, I left that entitled prerogative behind. Realized it was incompatible with the kind of submissive partner I said I was and wanted to be.

My temperament is more even now, too. There are fewer highs and lows. I’m more often in “the zone” and feeling pretty good. I think that’s due to a few things. One, I don’t have orgasms so the swelling and crashing hormones aren’t a factor. Also, some of that could just be from my body chemistry adjusting to how it is to live without the release of orgasm (nearly seven months now). Two, either Belle’s confidence has left me less inclined to challenge her or I’m better at letting her lead, but regardless, I’m a lot more comfortable in my submissive skin than I was back in the day. I have learned how to gather energy from the act of submission. From being focused on her needs and desires and wants and letting the fuzzy warmth of knowing I am serving her feed me in a way I had a hard time with earlier on. The foot rubbing, for example. The composition of the event had very sexual overtones, but she didn’t want that. That didn’t stop the penis from surging and choking on the Looker’s insert and straining against its bars. For me, it was sexual. For Belle, it was luxuriously relaxing. For both of us, it was what we wanted.

All of this kind of talk sort of backed into Belle’s assertion the other day that she was close to letting me out and making me come. The supreme irony of being her submissive is knowing that she has a need and a desire to be taken by a man. A strong and powerful one who can have his way with her. She’ll be wanting that from me and, because I want her to have whatever she wants, I’ll do my best to give it to her, but the very act of doing so has the potential to screw with the foundation of our dynamic. If I unleash the lizard and we screw like teenagers there will be an impact. It’ll be my job to hold up my commitment to her without the hormonal help.

This is where the idea of being cuckolded comes from, I’m sure. You get to this point where her needs are paramount and there is this one kind of sex you almost by definition can’t provide but you want her to have it anyway. Toss in a pinch of kinking on humiliation and there’s your recipe for wanting her to take a boyfriend. She even joked about it once more as I was rubbing her feet. Said she could make me sleep on the floor at the foot of the bed, naked and uncovered, while she shared it with her lover. “I’ll let you stew on that idea for a while,” she said. Good god, the device was tight right then. I had to stop rubbing to wait for the feeling of what that would be like to pass. It took my strength away.

Of course Belle’s very happy with the husband she has and the benefits of my submission, but she never would have described me if she was asked to write down the perfect mate back when she was 21. I told her that the idea of having a person with the needs I have as a partner sounded exhausting to me. I guess that really means I’m a sub because I don’t think I could stand having to deal with one. That’s one of the things that makes me so thankful she deals with me. That she’s taken the time to really try and figure out how to make all this work. That means, if she tells me to suck it up and have good old fashioned “pure” sex with her, I’ll do it. She’s accommodated me. It’s my job to reciprocate.

But not last night. Once the rubbing and talking was over, it was time to sleep. I wanted to get inside her pussy, but Belle was tired. Once again, my desires melted away in the face of her intentions. And we fell asleep intertwined and smelling of foot lotion. And happy.

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Lost in the sheets

I was away from Belle over the weekend. Thursday through Monday nights. I was having a nice time, but it was miserable not to be with her. Especially in the morning when the penis was pushing against the Trainer as hard as it can and my hand only found unfeeling plastic and not a hard shaft to play with.

I wish I knew more about the brain chemistry of love and attraction or that someone would do a study on the brain of a denied male. My feelings for her are made so much more intense by the lack of orgasm. My craving for her and her warm softness so much more acute by the locking of the penis. When I got home, I was all over her and her scent and lips and curvy female form made my heart flutter.

“I have to hear you orgasm,” I whispered into her ear.

Later that night, I snuggled up next to her under the covers as we watched Sherlock and as I ran my hands down her body they found the tubular shape of Pink, her favorite vibrator. My assumption was she put it there for me to use on her once Holmes and Watson saved London from terrorists, but no.

“Is that still there?!”

Turns out she had made the bed over it the morning before. While I was clawing at a compressed needy hard-on through its plastic trap, she was pleasuring herself with the little pink vibe. I instantly saw her in my mind doing this and could hear the thrumming rise and fall as she pushed it in and pull it out of her hot snatch.

And of course, I moaned. And melted inside.

I suggested christening her new dildo but she wanted my fingers and now we’re down to ninety-six. Even though I was horned up nearly to distraction, feeling her body tense with the wave of orgasm and then go limp in the afterglow triggered in me the need to sleep. So I did.

There’s a bit more to this one, but it comes with the standard NSFW warnings, so…

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Trainer training

In the old days, I’d sneak out of bed late at night so I could go jerk off without waking up Belle. Now, I sneak out of bed in the middle of the night because I can’t sleep due to not being able to jerk off and I don’t want my tossing and turning to wake Belle. The more things change.

That’s where I was last night. I took half a tab of the melatonin as it seems to be enough at such times, but not last night. I took the other half and became quite sleepy, but not so sleepy that it could overwhelm the quiet intense signal emanating from my crotch. In other words, I had it bad. Real bad. But, sometime after 1:00 AM, I finally succumbed and drifted off.

I’ve been wearing a new device since Friday in order to write a review on it. It’s the Holy Trainer from Switzerland. I’m well into the review post, but have had to slow down and temper my enthusiasm for the product after hearing on Twitter from people who’ve had serious quality issues with it. Personally, the unit on my unit hasn’t shown any symptoms, but I’m holding out a bit longer just in case. In any event, the problem seems to be rooted in the “biosourced resin” it’s made from. The clear plastic gets very soft and pliable when warm and that seems to be leading to it failing and breaking. The device I have on is black and doesn’t get anywhere near as soft as the clear appears to get. In any event, I was prepared to give the Holy Trainer my unqualified support (despite its silly name), but now I’m not so sure. The review should be up sometimes next week, if all goes well. If anyone with experience with the Trainer (good or bad) wants to post about it to the comments here or via the feedback page, I’d appreciate it.

Belle and I are travelling to New York City at beginning of February. She gets to go all over for business and I’m usually left at home with the kids but this time we finagled various family members to watch over them so I’m going, too. We’re going to see some sexy cabaret show or something and I plan on going to the Museum of Sex since it’s close to where we’re staying, but otherwise we have no hard plans. I’ll have a whole day to myself, too. Any suggestions?

This past weekend, Belle took note of the fact that the Trainer wouldn’t set off the metal detectors at the airport. She seemed to suggest she’d have me in it when we went through security since it’d just be the two of us. Hopefully the millimeter wave scanners won’t be on when I pass through.

If you want to see what the Trainer looks like in situ, hit the jump for an obviously NSFW image I posted to Twitter yesterday.

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