Milkshake

Over on FetLife, a member called tiger posted this in a thread about milking:

How do you feel different before and after you’ve been milked? How much is enough? What are the objectives exactly? I’m not even clear on that. Is it just to reduce the volume of stored fluid for the sake of prostatic health? It’s also a very dominant, very beautiful act of removing a man’s control over such a quintessentially male thing. I imagine it would make me feel more submissive. What more is it supposed to do?

I think his questions get to the heart of why this is something I want Belle to do to me. I have milked myself a few times now and understand the physiological impact, but it’s allure is more than that.

Physically, I do feel a lessening of pressure when the semen is released. It’s not a pressure I can even say I was cognizant of before it was gone. Maybe it’s more a feeling of the absence of something. In no way does milking make me less aroused. Quite the contrary. The last time I did it, I couldn’t get enough and was much hornier afterward. And that, even though Belle has never said I couldn’t milk myself, is why I feel I need to ask that it be something we share. I felt like I was receiving too much pleasure from it. No, I wasn’t having an orgasm, but the pleasure I received felt like a violation of the spirit of our arrangement.

Tiger absolutely hits on the psychological trigger for me. It’s the “act of removing a man’s control over such a quintessentially male thing”. To be denied even the fleeting satisfaction of a ruined orgasm. To reduce the passage of semen from my body to an almost clinical act that I have no control over after she’s denied me and teased me and stoked within me such a bonfire of desire. So unfair. So unsatisfying. Especially when you layer on how doing it increases my frustration. On the list of things she can do to me that embody the domination I wish for her to embrace, there are few more powerful.

Deny me, part deux

This post is related to the task my Belle Fille gave me prior to leaving on her trip. I am to write on my blog specific things, blah blah blah. You know the drill by now.

Belle,

Upon further reflection, I’ve come up with with the following addendum to my previous note to you regarding my denial.

  • I go back and forth on whether it’s better to know when I’ll come next or if you should keep me guessing. Since the guessing part leads me to obsess over it in a not-so-good way (Is today the day? After she comes, will she tell me to keep going?), I’m now leaning towards having some forewarning. One way you could do this would be to set a date range. For example, there’s no way I will come before X date, but I’ll definitely come by Y. That spread could be a week to a month, but to make it much longer would defeat its purpose, I think. Another way you could handle this is to make it a reward for achieving a goal of some kind. For example, I will get one orgasm within a week of bringing you to climax N times. Using our last conversation on this topic as a guide, that would mean you get to come 50 times before I get to come once.
  • I would like to be milked on a regular basis. This, too, could be as a reward for exemplary service (your discretion) or be a regularly scheduled thing that you could take away as punishment if I did or said something you were unhappy with. So, maybe every Saturday night I get milked, but not this Saturday because I did that thing you didn’t like. Or maybe it will happen this Saturday, except you won’t let me eat what comes out afterward (for a more minor offense).
  • I need some kind of real consequence for an unauthorized emission. There’s two ways I can think of that you could do this. The first, and most obvious, would be to extend my period of denial by a large number of days. For example, I was supposed to come in two weeks, but since I demonstrated insufficient control over the cock, I will have to wait another two months. The other punishment scheme, and the one that is actually much more severe from my point of view, would be to cut off access to your body. If I ever come without permission, you would make me sit next to you on the bed, in chastity, back straight, with my hands behind my head (maybe even cuffed?), and only be able to watch you pleasure yourself for your next ten orgasms (however long that takes). I think it’s further proof of how orgasm denial has transformed my attitude toward sexual satisfaction that not being able to give you pleasure is honestly a fate worse than the continued denial of mine.

Yours in every way,
Thumper

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.