Back in the box

Wednesday night, Belle was out of town. Before she left, she agreed to allow me to pleasure myself in her absence as long as I did not achieve orgasm. I have found that I need an outlet for my sexual tension when I can’t focus on her and dry masturbation seemed to help. Also, before she left, she agreed to leave our toy box unlocked as I wanted to play around with some of our new items (I called it “research”).

Earlier in the day, on my way back to the office following a client meeting, I found myself back at the house with thoughts of that unlocked box dancing in my head. I hurried into our bedroom, stripped, and brought out the Aneros. It had been about five days since my last orgasm and I wanted to see if I could milk myself.

My first impression of the Aneros was that it was very small. That was disappointing. As I’ve mentioned previously, I’m an old hand at putting things up my ass and have always been something of a size queen. The Aneros is positively dainty in comparison to some of the things I’ve gotten up there. What I found, though, is that size really doesn’t matter. A couple of drops of JO lube later, and it slid in so easily I almost didn’t feel it. Once in place though, I immediately appreciated its cunningly devised shape. After about 10 or 15 minutes of direct prostate massage combined with a moderate amount of stroking, I experienced my first non-orgasmic emission. It just sort of poured out in a rather lazy fashion and pooled next to my belly button. It was ejaculation without the jack. Since it was a new sensation attached to my dick, I have to say I enjoyed it, but it wasn’t anything like cumming. Afterward, I was still totally aroused, and in fact, remained in a heightened state of arousal for the remainder of the day. There was no post-orgasmic high. No drowsiness. No contentedness. My brain was still buzzing with sexual activity.

Which was probably why I screwed up that night. After all the kids were in bed and asleep, I wanted to repeat the milking experience. I wasn’t sure it was possible since my understanding of how it worked was that there had to be ejaculate backed-up and waiting behind the prostate, but I was horny as hell and couldn’t imagine it would hurt anything to try again. This time, it didn’t even take ten minutes. Either I found the fucking spot on my gland or it was extra sensitive from the earlier session, but the intensity of the feelings washing over me was like nothing I’ve ever felt before. Next thing I knew, and with little manual stimulation, the semen was leaking out again. Still not flying out like a normal orgasm, but with more vigor than the first time. In fact, it wasn’t so much the way it came out but how it felt inside that told me I had cum. As soon as I realized it was happening, I tried to stop it, but it was too late. It wasn’t an especially good orgasm, but an orgasm it was. I had broken my promise to Belle. I felt terrible.

Not only had I cum without permission, but I did it after she gave me permission to masturbate. It was just about the worst thing I could do. However, I also knew she would not appreciate the seriousness of the infraction. I could have told her and experienced no repercussions. But, in the twisted way my mind’s working, I wanted her to punish me. I needed to pay for cumming. Even though I’m no big fan of the CB6K, I knew that I needed to put it on. And not just for two days this time. I came without permission. I needed to do some hard time (so to speak).

If we have any issues in our relationship right now, they’re mainly centered around me needing her to be a strong, dominate female and her resistance to doing it naturally. She just doesn’t feel it. I want to be beat up, tortured, teased, and denied and she just wants to snuggle. Don’t get me wrong, I love snuggling (in fact, her absent-minded stroking of my armpit hair while we’re holding each other is one of my favorite sensations). But sometimes, and especially now since its all so new, I want her to domme it up a bit. I have a feeling it will come – that we’ll eventually meet half-way – but it’s going to take time. I’ll go vanilla for her when she wants me to and she’ll tie me up and spank me every so often. But for the moment, it’s somewhat awkward. Case in point…

I spilled the beans to her when she got home the next day. I told her I proactively locked myself up (though she admitted that she wouldn’t have thought of that). I told her she needed to decide for how long I was to be incarcerated and that she should not let my whining and complaining about it affect her decision. I needed to be locked up and denied for a long time. I should never, ever want to cum outside her company ever again. Yes, I do get off on this treatment, but I really do hate the fucking CB6K. Really. She needs show me who’s boss and to use the CB6K as her enforcement tool – the physical manifestation of her absolute control over my sexual pleasure. Hopefully someday, I won’t need to coach her on this and it’ll all just come to her naturally. When it does – when I fear her reaction to cumming at the wrong time or without her permission – then I’ll really be happy.

Well, that was weird – further thoughts

Regarding this:

So last night she comes home late and pretty much says we aren’t going to be using any of the new items. I didn’t really think she’d be tying me up, but not even the collar? I can’t even try it on? I had built this moment up in my mind – me, the pet, getting my first collar, from her, my owner – and instead I get a tired wife who just wants to go to bed.

If I were in her shoes (which I’d never be since they look so uncomfortable and I have not even an inkling of a shoe/foot fetish nor am I interested in cross dressing) I’d have used this situation as a way to give me what I want without giving me what I want. I don’t expect she’s going to want to have sex as often as I do (especially when I’m getting no orgasmic release away from her), so why not just tell me to be a good boy and heel? Hell, hit me with a rolled up newspaper, even. Tell me tonight’s not the night and if I give her any crap about it she’ll add a week to however long it’s going to be until I get to cum. When the time comes, she can even threaten to lock me up. In short, leverage her disinterest into an opportunity to feed my kink. I suppose she’ll get there. This is all so new to both of us, though I’ve dived deeply into the concept and have read so much more on the topic than she has. Maybe it’s time to give her a tour of some of the sites I’ve been visiting.

Well, that was weird.

Last night was not especially great. Belle’s flight was delayed so she got home really late. Also, she had to get up early this morning and’ll be at a work thing tonight, so there’s no telling when we’ll get a chance for some quality time. Suddenly, the real world has shoved its nose into our life and I’m not liking it. It’s given rise to some worries.

Last post, I talked about the whole “exotic pet” metaphor. If someone had dropped a lemur or ferret on her doorstep without instruction, Belle’d be just as hard-pressed to deal with it as she is dealing with her suddenly kinky, horny, submissive husband. While I did order her some books, they only can help her so much if, at the end of the day, her heart’s just not in it. I never asked her if she wanted to control my orgasms and we never really talked about adding a large measure of kink into our sex lives. I more or less dumped all that on her. Well, what if she doesn’t like it? What if none of this really gets her going? In order for it to work for me, I need it to work for her. And last night, it just wasn’t.

Since she called me and told me about the things she was buying in San Francisco, I have been fixated on the collar. The other things (cuffs, straps, etc.) are also intriguing to me, but I’ve been imagining the collar almost constantly- the first time she put it on me, the way it would look around my neck, the way it would make me feel. Yeah, I’ve taken this whole pet thing pretty seriously. So last night she comes home late and pretty much says we aren’t going to be using any of the new items. I didn’t really think she’d be tying me up, but not even the collar? I can’t even try it on? I had built this moment up in my mind – me, the pet, getting my first collar, from her, my owner – and instead I get a tired wife who just wants to go to bed. No, there’s nothing wrong with that. It’s totally understandable. But I was pretty well crushed by the let down and that, in turn, led me to doubt this entire course we’re on. It also highlights the precarious emotional state I’m apparently in.

I feel as though I’m coming out to her. No, I’m not gay, but I can’t imagine telling her I was would be much more difficult than this. Where we are in our relationship and how quickly it’s developed over the past six to eight weeks, and the fact that sex (or lack of it) was one of the root issues that led to our troubles, has left me feeling a little insecure. On top of that, I know that as I’m exploring my desires I’m discovering new things about myself. As I mentioned in the last post, I’m finding myself much more drawn to D/s (with some reluctance). It’s as if I’m pulling a thread on a sweater and it just keeps coming with no end in sight. I really don’t know what kind of person I am. And I don’t know if Belle’s interested in maintaining whatever it is I’m becoming. And that’s scary.

Thumper: An exotic pet

Wednesday night, after Belle released me from the device, we had amazing, intense, and extraordinarily satisfying sex (at least for me). While we were discussing the affect the CB6K had on me and us, I was able to explain to Belle the four pillars of my kinkiness. In short, they are:

  • Orgasm tease and denial – This is foundational. Not sure a lot of folks would consider this a kink in an of itself, but, as I’ve written about previously, I’m categorizing it as a core kink for me and our relationship.
  • Pain – I am a masochist. When I’m aroused, any feeling of pain seems to amplify my pleasure. So far, Belle has been unable to inflict pain on me that crossed my threshold beyond sexual enjoyment. Pinching, scratching, hair pulling, and biting have, so far, only increased my arousal.
  • Bondage – I desperately want to be tied up. We have experimented with this very little, mostly due to lack of proper equipment. I remember telling her about my desire to experiment with bondage at the very beginning of our relationship, but she had no way to deal with that information at the time and nothing ever came of it. Truth be told, I’ve never really been tied up by anyone, but I’ve often fantasized about being secured with straps and ropes and unable to control the things being done to me. Plus, bondage porn is some of my favorite.
  • Anal play – This is the one thing that I have plenty of experience with. In my youth, I had several male sex partners and have held a fascination with putting things up my ass for as long as I can remember. However, with the exception of a brief period near the beginning of our relationship, Belle and I had never really talked about it and we’ve never integrated it into our sex. It has been relegated to solo masturbatory sessions for more than a decade.

You may notice, as I have, that the first three bullets involve activities often related to dominance and submission (D/s). I’ve written at the beginning of this blog that I wasn’t especially interested in being Belle’s slave. Interestingly though, the closer we edge towards activities with strong D/s overtones I find I have more interest in being dominated, in at least a sexual way. I am still decidedly NOT interested in Belle dominating me all the time in all we do. However, in bed, I’ve yet to find the bottom of the pool of my submissive desire.

So once the talking part of our evening was over (or, at least, the part where we talked exclusively since we usually talk quite a bit while making love), and Belle was being especially cruel to my nipples, raking her nails down my back and ribs, digging them into my ass cheeks (almost, but not quite, as good as ass biting), and squeezing and pulling on my balls, I blurted out that I wanted to be her sexual pet. I had already used the metaphor to describe all these new kinky needs suddenly gushing from her husband and how it was not unlike having an exotic animal left in your care with no idea what to do with it. It clicked in my head that, in fact, I did want to be her sexual pet. Like any well-trained and obedient animal, I was eager to please her and willing to accept just about any command. The attention she was lavishing on my body was profoundly arousing. While I was still her husband, lover, and friend, I also found myself moving to a place in my head where I was, absolutely, her pet. And I loved it.

Since I’m often over-thinking things, here’s my take on this. I don’t want to be a slave because, in my mind, that requires the abdication of too much authority over my body to someone else. I do not want to kneel before her or wait for her command (and she’s not interested in that, either). However, a pet still has the ability to think and act for itself. It can have an overwhelming need to satisfy its master, but as any pet owner knows, even the best-trained animal will sometimes do what it wants and try to take control of a moment. In this way, I think the pet metaphor is a much better expression of my need to be submissive while balancing my dislike of being totally dominated.

Yesterday, my wonderful Belle Fille called me from San Francisco, where she’s visiting a friend. To while away the afternoon before her friend came home from work, she was doing some shopping and happened upon a local sex shop called Good Vibrations. She called me and we both shopped the store as she walked the aisles and I surfed their website. She’ll be coming home Sunday with cuffs, straps, a feather tickler, nipple clamps and – the thing I’m most happy about – a fur-lined collar for her pet.

My wife is making her kinky little bunny very, very happy.

Different, not better

Day two in the cage. This morning, Belle supervised as I dismantled the little acrylic torture chamber in order to put on the 2″ ring (which, by the way, is too big – makes the thing much less secure). The relief once it was off was palpable. I had mentioned to her less than 10 minutes before that I wanted to move up a size and that I needed her to unlock me. As soon as I realized I was going to be released, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I kept going back to her until she agreed to go into the bathroom with me and do it. I was like a little kid or a puppy or something. I had to get out of it.

She washed the tube while I reassembled the bits and pieces. As soon as I started to slide the lubed cage back over my cock, I felt the elation leak out of me. I think I even whimpered a little. When she snapped the lock, something snapped in me, too. Not “snapped” like a postal worker. Maybe “clicked” is a better word. Anyway, I suddenly felt very much kept. Locked up basically against my will since I really didn’t want to get back in there. But, a deal’s a deal. I gave her the power and she’s using it. I felt very different than before it arrived when she was denying me release. Then, I was looking for more stimulation – more access to her in order to get that. This time, I felt owned by her.

After the relocking was done, I followed her around from room to room, kissed her a lot, and (apparently) gave her funny looks. Now I realize that I’m not just being denied orgasm, but her touch as well. She likes to lay in bed and basically pet my cock. She’s been doing the same thing since I got locked up, but of course, now I can’t feel it. The only sensation I get from my cock now is negative (pressure, tightness, pain). I feel so much more dependent on her than before. I am starting to feel like I’m her prisoner. It is effecting me emotionally and mentally.

Mind you, I’m not saying I want to stop. I really want to continue to experiment with the device. However, at this time, I can’t say I want chastity to be a huge part of our sexual lifestyle – more like a side dish rather than an entree. I love that she controls it. I love that I have no power over its use. It is a huge turn-on. Beyond that, though, I’m not sure I love how it makes me feel.

The Eagle has landed

Belle picked me up at the airport yesterday afternoon and had the CB6K with her. It was smaller than she had expected, but actually a little bigger than I had thought it would be (maybe a good thing). It’s exactly what all the pictures of it look like on the internet, so very little surprise out of the box. She said she’d put me in it that night since I wasn’t in the proper condition at that moment anyway and she wasn’t feeling all that well (which is why she was home yesterday and able to come get me).

We got home and, sickness be damned, were all over each other. Pretty soon we were naked and I was sending her into orgasm with a combination of my fingers and mouth (there’s nothing better than directly feeling her orgasms with my tongue). Then, because she’s sweet and probably a little too indulgent, she said I’d needed to fuck her and come if I wanted to be able to put the device on before we went to pick up the kids. It had only been since Wednesday with no teasing in between, but it was a fucking amazing release anyway.

I started with the 2 inch ring and the second to smallest spacer. We applied JO lube and did our best to pack my sausage into its new home. I was immediately able to pull it off. I moved to the 1 7/8″ ring and the smallest spacer. After two or three painful pinches getting it assembled, it was more secure, but I’m still pretty sure I could pull out if I wanted to. Also, the friggin‘ ring is tight. Not sure how much of this is par for the course and how much is just ill-fitting, but away we went to pick up the kiddies and head out for dinner.

I definitely knew it was there the entire time. While driving, the CB6K had nowhere to go but down my left leg making me look like I’m either very well hung or very aroused. By the time we had both the kids and were at the restaurant, I was feeling some pretty intense pinching. Once home, I found a bunch of scrotum skin bunched up and pinched between the cage and the ring. Pulled that back through the ring and, using a Q-tip, shoved my winky more fully into the cage and felt better. Then I had to pee.

OK, this I’m not thrilled about. There’s something about a strong, heavy stream of hot piss plunging into a toilet bowl that says – loudly and proudly – “guy”. Pissing through the end of the cage slows and disrupts the stream so it comes trickling out. Standing is, of course, out of the question. Sitting, it sounds to all the world like the tinkling of a little girl. Grrr. It accentuates my imprisonment and Belle’s ownership of my manhood in an unexpected way. While it makes this simple act much more complicated and somewhat humiliating, I also have to admit to being aroused by it.

We eventually went to bed with the idea that we’d just snuggle and watch TV, but I wasn’t much interested in just snuggling and was shortly pleasuring her with my fingers while sucking on her right nipple. After her second orgasm of the day, it was time for sleep. She gently stroked my forehead trying to bring me down off my hormonal surge (I said she was sweet) and we fell into sleep with her in my arms. Bliss.

About 90 minutes later, I was awake and on fire. The ring was incredibly tight and burned around the root of my unit while my cock felt numb. I went into the bathroom hoping to find my junk turning blue so I’d have an excuse to take the damned device off, but no dice. All was pink and normal, though very constrained. My hard-on had filled every tiny space inside the cage and the tip of my penis was pressing against the slit on the end of the tube. It wasn’t numb, it was just sensory deprived. I had the sensation of my dick being transported away from my body and held somewhere dark and tight, though I could still feel it. Weird.

After a few cycles of falling back to sleep only to be awakened by my little prisoner’s anguish, I rolled over and put my arm over Belle. She woke up a little and asked how I was sleeping. I asked what would happen if I said I wasn’t, and she said nothing would happen, that she was just curious. Nice. So much for all that shit about her being sweet.

Triple play

Last night I spoke to an old friend about this strange new world of orgasm denial (OD). It was refreshing because I felt very much that I wanted to share this with someone other than Belle. I’m sure most people would tend to keep this kind of thing to themselves, but I’ve been compelled to talk about it and I think I know why. First of all, now that I’m being totally open with Belle about everything I’m thinking and wanting, it’s sort of broken down a wall I had built between my fantasies and real life. Since she’s the most important person to me in the world and knows everything I just don’t feel like I need to keep it a secret from anyone else. Second, in the short time Belle’s had control over my emissions, I’ve gotten a glimpse of the incredible transformational potential of OD.

I know that in my body (and, I assume, the bodies of most other guys) my brain, heart, and dick are all on the same circuit. Get control of one of those things, and the other two are easy pickins‘. Get two, and it’s game over. What I feel has happened in our relationship is that my brain and my heart conspired to hand over my dick to Belle. Due to the tremendous trust I have in her (brain) and the great love I feel towards her (heart), it was perfectly natural for me to hand over my dick (which really serves him right for being so easily distracted and only waking up a couple of times an hour). The erotic power of this arrangement also pleases both the brain and heart immensely and that helps keep the dick in it’s place. Then, since the dick really is a simple minded yet powerful little guy, all the focus of his attention gets whittled into into a sharp point. In short, he has no other options. Like a kid frying an ant with a magnifying glass, he targets Belle and makes sure the brain and the heart (those elitist eggheads who put him in this spot to begin with) have no choice but to follow his imperative and focus on her more than they did before. That’s the beauty of this scheme. A simple yet sincere act of trust and love has, in effect, worked to increase those same feelings many times over. Soon, she became the absolute center of my universe. She hardly ever leaves my consciousness and her pleasure and well being have become a primary objective of mine. When she’s not near, I think about when she will be again. When she is near, I am always thinking of new ways to make her even closer to me. Heady stuff.

Truth be told, I had no idea OD would prove to be so potent. I am not a person with religious faith nor have I ever really felt its absence. However, this concept has proven to be so transformational that I begin to understand the zealot’s drive. I want everyone to do this. I think it should be standard operating procedure and, in fact, written into the marriage vows. Hell, I might just found a church around this. I could use the tax write-off. Anyone interested in joining Our Lady of Perpetual Denial?

OD vs. T&D vs. D/s, etc., Part 1

I admit to harboring a healthy number of sexual perversions. Some of them, I’m sure, aren’t even legal in all the states. Most of what gets me going, though, is strictly in the realm of fantasy. The number of things I’ve read, watched, and rhythmically enjoyed on the web as opposed to the number I’ve actually engaged in is drastically lopsided. That being said, when I started learning more about all the various flavors of orgasm denial (OD) and how its practiced, I found myself unhappy with a great deal of what’s out there. I would never judge the kink of another, but much of how OD is applied practically is far too “out there” for me and, at least as (if not more) importantly, my Belle Fille.

Things I said to Belle that I do not want from our practice of OD:

  • To be demeaned
  • To be hurt or injured
  • For her to be hateful toward me
  • To be dominated by her all the time, in all aspects of our life

What I do want very much:

  • For her to control if, when, and how I will enjoy orgasm for the rest of my days
  • For her sexual pleasure and satisfaction to always be before mine
  • For her to always leave me craving more of the unique pleasures only she can give
  • For us to have fun with our distinctly different sexualities

There is so much on the web around OD, tease and denial (T&D), and domination and submission (D/s), etc., that is very anti-male. I admit to being new to this scene, so it’s entirely possible what I’m reading is just people staying in character, but I don’t think so. Many sites written by women for women (example) make men out to be little more than sexual animals who can’t be trusted to control their urges and whose sex drives can be harnessed to make them do all manner of things they wouldn’t do otherwise. I’ve even read men on forums regurgitate this POV. Like somehow OD saves them from their inner pigs. (The notable exception, and luckily the site I found very early on in my exploration, is Tickleberry.)

The above line of thought is so alien to me it’s not something I can even pretend to be into. Again, I do not judge anything anyone else is into, but personally, I revel in my maleness. I rejoice in the differences between women and men. The fact that I enjoy sex as much as I do, that it’s as important to me as it is, that I think about it all the fucking time is wonderful. I would never want to abdicate my male prerogative to anyone else, even my beloved Belle Fille.

So, how can I say that and still get off on not getting off?

I see the way Belle and I are developing our version of OD as having two distinct parts. The first part is purely emotional and involves our evolving relationship and its importance to me. The second part is much more about the sex and the kink and FUN of how she controls my emissions.

First and foremost, I see my transference of control over my orgasms to Belle as a sacred gift. I love her and trust her and care enough about her and our relationship that I truly never want to experience sexual release ever again if she’s not with me. I have alluded to the fact that I was unfaithful to Belle, so I need to stress that I did not come to this decision with the idea that it was a necessary penitence, act of contrition, punishment or because I didn’t feel I could trust myself in the future. I did it willingly because I was looking for a way to help heal the damage I had done and saw this as not only something that held great personal appeal to me but would truly demonstrate the magnitude of my commitment to our relationship. Giving Belle the one thing that more than any other makes me male – control over my penis – tells her that I want my happiness and hers to be inseparably intertwined. This is not about the absence of sex or just having sex when she wants it. In fact, I will still initiate sex as much if not more than before. I trust her to use the power I’ve given her with the same loving attitude and care she’s always used in other aspects of our relationship.

The fun part of all of this isn’t the what of her control but the how of its execution. Things like the chastity device, edging, using my cock as a simple tool for her pleasure since she may not allow me to cum while she’s enjoying it, and in general teasing me and keeping me in as active a state of sexual stimulation as possible for as long as possible are all just icing on my kinky little cake. I have always gravitated towards porn and fantasies involving either the willing or unwilling loss of sexual control. Now, I can actually live a version of this with the most important person in my life. She teases me and keeps me guessing as to how or if I’ll be released. She’ll stroke me or go down on me until I’m a quivering mass of sexual ecstasy and leave me hanging and craving more. She’ll allow me to enter her and even fuck her with abandon as long as I understand I am not to ejaculate within her. Do we need a chastity device or other accoutrement to experience all this? No, certainly not. Jesus, I’m so hot right now just thinking about it! We’ve had enough sex recently with OD as the central principle to know we could do this all by ourselves indefinitely. The toys aren’t required, but they sure do make the whole thing a bunch more fun.

The most important thing we both bring to the equation is mutual respect and love. I can remain secure with regards to my position in our marriage as an equal partner and confident in my masculinity while simultaneously giving her the keys to it (literally and figuratively). She in return will get sexual pleasure beyond what she’s previously enjoyed along with levels of attention and devotion from me unseen since we first began our relationship.

That’s the plan, anyway. So far so good.