Tag: orgasm

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Cornucopia of orgasms

In the eight days from the Saturday Belle and I were at the cabin to yesterday, I’ve had five orgasms. This is, I admit, an embarrassingly large number for someone supposedly practicing orgasm denial. I like to think that, rather than denial, Belle and I have been practicing orgasm control since none of the orgasms were without her authorization. Perhaps it was the spirit of holiday bounty that moved her.

In any event, I am now back in the CB6K. Her period should come any second now and, as has been previously reported, I am to be locked up for the entirety of her menstruation. Note I said it should come any second. It hasn’t yet, though I’m still locked up. What was I saying about getting turned on by unfairness?

Funny thing is, what with all the coming I’ve been doing, I can’t say I was overly excited about being placed in chastity. I was getting into a groove and kinda liking it. The idea of staying out and continuing down this “come every 48 hours” road was fairly appealing. For the first time, she’s put me in chastity pretty much against my will. I’ll be curious to see how my feelings about it change while I’m in here.

In related news, I’m considering – and strongly leaning towards – getting a Prince Albert peircing. I can’t say exactly why, though the idea turns me on and, to be honest, I can’t explain why half the things that turn me on do so. Belle’s not opposed, so I might take the plunge after she lets me out of lock-up. I’m attracted by the relatively short healing time and the many chastity devices that take advatage of a PA piercing. I’d appreciate hearing about any experiences the half-dozen people who read Denying Thumper have had with this kind of hole in their dick.

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Crossing the Rubicon, Part 3

[This is the last part of a three-part post. You might want to read the first and second parts first.]

I chose to call this series of posts “Crossing the Rubicon” because of what happened on the morning of the last day of our weekend. As I’ve written in the past, being tied up is one of my oldest and deepest desires. I’ve never been tied up by anyone before, though it’s been part of my fantasy life and a major player in the porn I enjoy since as long as I can remember. I did bring it up to Belle early in our relationship, but her reaction caused me to put it back in the dark hole in my psyche from whence it came. She wasn’t actively opposed to the idea, but I sensed trepidation and maybe some fear. I let it drop. Now, all these years later, it was back to the surface. I had told Belle everything I wanted done to me and she had shown sympathy and a willingness to try, if not a comprehension of what motivated me.

On her trip to San Francisco, Belle had purchased some light bondage gear. Basically, some simple tethers with clips on the ends and four velcro cuffs with attached rings. Nothing too severe, but inexpensive and packaged in an accessible and non-threatening fashion. It was my understanding that we’d finally put these to use over this weekend, though the opportunity I thought most obvious had come and gone due to too much drink and hot water. Sunday morning, she indicated we’d finally take the plunge.

To me, this was synonymous to the first time I had sex. I had wanted to do this for so long and now the time had finally seemed to come. I asked if she wanted me to prepare the room, and she said I should while she made her coffee, ate her cereal, etc. Back in the bedroom, I tried to figure out the best configuration of the tethers. Our bed was king-sized with no headboard or footboard (like we have at home). I eventually attached the tethers to the legs of the bed frame, but I found by laying them out and trying different poses that I’d be stretched into an extreme spread-eagle position. I bound one ankle and one wrist to make sure it was even physically possible and the sudden reality of the moment finally struck me. I found myself incredibly nervous and self-conscious. Ironically, as I was preparing the bed in a way to maximize my physical vulnerability, I discovered a deep well of emotional vulnerability. Doubt crept into my mind. Was this going to be fun? Did she really want to do it? Maybe this was the wrong time. I tried to put those thoughts aside as I finished the preparations. I went back out to the living room and waited.

It seemed to me, as the minutes ticked by, that Belle was dragging her feet, just as I suspected she had dragged her feet with regard to bondage all along. Finally, after she had exhausted just about every delaying excuse possible, she sat down next to me on the couch by the fire. She said she wanted me to know that she was “sexed out” and not interested in further penetrative activities with me. That’s what she said, but what I heard was a serious lack of interest on her part and felt she was trying to work her way out of the event. It played directly into my doubts and fears and vulnerability. I told her maybe we shouldn’t do it since I was not interested in it if she wasn’t. There was only going to be one first time for this, I said, and if we couldn’t both be into it, I didn’t want it ruined. I was angry, scared, disappointed, and embarrassed to even be in that position. I started to cry. I was a mess.

In the past, that might have been it. I might have been impulsive and we might have fought and the entire event would have collapsed in a heap of resentment. Luckily, though, we kept talking. She told me she just didn’t want me disappointed if she didn’t come at the end of this. That she did want to do this, for me, but that she wasn’t interested in sex being a part of it. I told her who came and when was entirely under her control and, if played correctly, it was practically impossible for me to be truly disappointed. I told her that the erotic torture she had put me through the previous morning, upon being released from the CB6K, was all I was expecting with the only difference being this time I’ve be tied down. I sensed she was making this thing into a bigger deal than it needed to be. That I wanted to be tied down by her and only her and anything she did to me would be wondrous. All I wanted to do was share the experience with her, my love. That’s all.

Finally, I stopped crying. We had gotten past the road hazard and would continue the journey. She told me to go back to the room, get naked, lay on the bed, and wait. I did as she said and, while in the room alone laying nude in the middle of the big bed, felt a level of apprehension and anxious expectation unlike anything before. Involuntary shudders rippled across my body and my teeth were beginning to lightly chatter. She entered the room and I felt very naked, vulnerable, and exposed.

She started with my right wrist, then my left. I tested the restraint and found them to be light, yet quite secure. I knew I could not overcome them and the thought sent an electric wave through me. Next, she secured my right ankle, then my left. I tried to move and found my range of motion severely limited. Goosebumps broke out across my body. Finally, she placed a blindfold over my eyes and kissed me on the mouth. I was going to explode with anticipation.

I heard her move through the room. She seemed to be looking for something, but I didn’t know what. She left the room, then came back in. I heard the light switch go on and her rifling through our toy box. Then the light was switched off. I honestly had no idea what was going on or what she was looking for.

I felt something light and feathery brush against my chest. Was that a feather? Where the hell had that come from? She dragged it across my nipples, down my legs, across the cock and my balls. I instinctively moved my head as though, if I could just find the right angle, I’ve be able to see what was going on, but to no avail. Finally, I figured out that I was feeling the ends of a simple rubber flogger Belle had purchased along with the restraints. I had dismissed it as a novelty, but was happy she brought it out as it was totally unexpected and might be able to give me a mild stinging sensation.

Her first swing of the flogger did nothing to change my perception that it was a toy. It struck my chest with a light, almost tickling sensation. I found some pleasure from not being able to see it before it hit me, so the shock of the feeling was sudden and surprising. Each impact caused me to sharply intake my breath. Then, I was even more surprised to find the sting of the little flogger to be getting stronger. She started flailing on my left hip and upper thigh with rapid succession and then alternate with my right side. In fact, after a while, I felt myself actually approaching the limit to the amount of sensation I was going to be able to withstand. I writhed, moaned, growled, and barred my teeth as the pain’s intensity became almost more than I could bear. It occurred to me we had never established a safeword or any other way for me to tell her she had gone too far when, at the very moment I felt I was going to break, she’d move to another spot on my body or suddenly start gently brushing my skin with the feathery ends of the rubber strands. While all this was going on, I started to self-analyze my reaction. Was I enjoying this? Was it good for me? Oh god, yes. It was everything I had hoped it would be and more.

I felt the areas where she had struck me burn and sting and I felt the cock between my legs flop around. Interestingly, it didn’t get hard as I had expected, but it was flushed with blood and felt fat and heavy. She would occasionally concentrate the light sensation over my groin and I found myself simultaneously fearful she’d strike me there and hoping desperately that she would. She never did, but she did grab and pinch my nipples with a force I’d never felt her apply before. Did my restrained and vulnerable position give her greater strength or did it only feel it that way because I was helpless?

I honestly have no idea how long the flogging went on. She eventually grabbed the cock and started stroking it roughly. I had to ask her to be more gentle as somehow she had unknowingly crossed into bad pain. I felt the flogging portion of our session was over and that now I was expected to come, so I begged to have my hand released so I could bring myself to orgasm. At first, she declined, but I think the effort eventually got to her and she released my right hand. I was immediately stunned to feel how hard the cock in my hand was. It had been so long since I stroked it, but even so, this was bigger and harder than I had remembered it could get. My legs being spread made it harder to come, but she told me I’d have to do it the way I was. No more of me would be released. She started to twist my nipples and I finally felt the stirring of an orgasm start to build between my legs. When the orgasm finally came, I felt its sticky ropes fly across my stomach. I was panting, blind, and euphoric.

Belle released the other restraints and removed the blindfold. As she laid next to me, I felt the warmth of her skin and was surprised to find her naked. In addition, she had a light sheen of sweat over her from the exertion of the session. She snuggled in and I felt the comfortable warm afterglow of the orgasm wash over me…just as she scooped up a great glob of come and spread it across my lips. “Time for breakfast!” she said merrily. We both immediately burst out laughing as I told her through my sticky, gooey lips that the idea of eating my own come was admittedly more enticing before it came out of my body. I licked off my salty treat and felt my love for Belle Fille bursting inside me.

—

Later, we were back in the hot tub. As we climbed in, I showed Belle the welts she had raised on my skin. I was delighted, but she was taken aback. I reassured her that I loved the marks she had left and hoped to see more like them in the future. Venus and Mars, indeed.

As I sat there in the bubbling, steaming water and stared across the frozen lake, I felt a different kind of afterglow from our session. It wasn’t from the orgasm. It felt different. In fact, everything felt different. Belle had taken me across the Rubicon – the point of no return. She had popped my bondage and flogging cherries both on the same day. Thanks to her, I now knew what my fantasies really felt like. And they were better than I had hoped. It was almost half an hour later, and I realized I was still softly moaning to myself. It was as if I was purring like a happy cat laying in a sunbeam. The love of my life, my wife, my keyholder, my Belle Fille had brought me across the threshold to a new world.

And I was happy to be there with her.

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Crossing the Rubicon, Part 1

[I’ll be relating the events of our romantic weekend alone over three posts. Even so, I’m afraid this one got kind of long. I apologize in advance for asking to you to read through 1,370 words that don’t even get you past Saturday morning!]

We arrived at our secluded woodland retreat late Friday night. Belle had already informed me that I wasn’t going to get out until Saturday, so her refusal to release me as soon as we arrived was no surprise. What was a surprise (at least to me) was her acquiescence to my suggestion that we try out her new toy. Earlier that day, a discrete box had arrived containing a pretty, pink Onye “discrete massager”. The little vibe, which we’ve named Pink (because we’re creative that way), is surprisingly powerful. After working on her nipples for a few minutes to get the juices flowing, I started to rub the deactivated Pink over her clitoris to help her get used to its feel. My Belle has not been one to partake in sex toys (with the exception of a single use of the latex dildo I got her about a month ago and one very lucky banana in an overseas hotel room), so I wanted to take this new sensation slowly for her. I pushed Pink’s little pink button and she started to purr. Belle released a yelp and a startled little, “Oh!” After a few moments of surface stimulation, I was somewhat taken aback to hear her instruct me, which some insistence, to put Pink in her. I complied and a string of high volume exclamations followed. Then, not even 60 seconds after I turned Pink on, Belle had what I can only describe as a screaming orgasm. I had never seen her carry on in that manner. Truth be told, to a boy enduring a week of chastity, to see the physical manifestation of his sexual desire (and the very gatekeeper of his sexual satisfaction) come in under a minute through the directed use of technology was, to put it lightly, somewhat intimidating. I was very happy for Belle but also somewhat distressed to consider a future of extended lock-up where my unique contribution to her sex life was rendered not just inaccessible, but also redundant and entirely out-classed.

The next morning was one of the most amazing of my adult life. The preceding night was fitful, both from the extended build-up of precious fluid but also the knowledge that I might get the chance to release said fluid at daybreak. However, when dawn finally came, Belle was awake before I was. After padding around a bit and letting the dog out to do his business, she came in the bedroom, sat down in front of me on the bed, and, with my head bowed, put me in my collar. The carnivorous butterflies started flapping in earnest at this development. My collar, all by itself, puts me into a heavily submissive headspace. Combined with the ten days of denied sexual release, I suddenly found myself suckling her toes. Now, I do not have a foot fetish of any kind and have never, to the best of my recollection, sucked her toes. Nevertheless, here I was worshiping her feet. She did not instruct me to do so and I’m not even sure she recognized the significance of the act, but it was either an autonomic submissive response or the influence of reading countless malesub blogs and sex stories. In either event, I did not consciously decide to apply my mouth to her foot. I just did it. And it was sublime.

After a few minutes of slobbering on her foot, Belle told me to lay down on the bed. She sat at the head of the bed, with her back to the wall, and I laid with my feet next to her with my head pointing to the foot of the bed. She took the key to my cock and unlocked and removed the CB6K. My hand immediately and reflexively shot down to feel my released member. Belle just as quickly reminded me that I was not to touch her cock until she told me I could. I moaned and writhed, but complied. I begged her to touch the cock. She replied that she was stroking it with her eyes and that would have to be enough for the moment. I moaned and a large glob of precum oozed from the semi-erect flesh. She laughed and marveled at how the cock seemed to have a will of its own as it lolled about and a second string of precum came oozing from its tip.

Finally, she touched me, but not on the cock. She ran her fingernails lightly up and down my legs and across my stomach. Then, without warning, she’d dig her nails deeply into my flesh sending me into tortured flailings. More than once she took hold of my testicles and cruelly twisted and pulled on them sending further waves of ecstatic pain through me. Eventually, I rolled over so she could apply the same loving attention to my backside, but also so I could grind into the bed. She was wise to that and told me I was not allowed to pleasure myself with her cock and to knock it off, which I reluctantly did. At this point, it’s probably safe to say a week and a half of denied orgasm and just over a week of chastity, along with the deliciously sensual torture, was causing me to experiencing one of the most intensely sexual experiences of my life. Luckily for me, it was eclipsed 24 hours later, but we’ll get to that in due time.

Belle rearranged me on the bed so that I could kiss and fondle her breasts. I had my mouth on her right nipple, my left arm under her back and my left hand on her left nipple, while my right hand manually stimulated her clitoris. Meanwhile, I freely ground into her leg like the dog in heat I was. She was extremely wet and seemed to be greatly enjoying the attention her nipples were receiving when I started to pick up those tell-tale signals that her orgasm was approaching. She stopped me, rolled me onto my back, and mounted me. The poor, neglected, aching cock – her cock – slid into soft, warm, wet flesh. I was understandably close to coming immediately upon insertion, but – ten days or not – I was determined to avoid a repeat of my previous failure. To help with this, I didn’t think of baseball or NASCAR or whatever other stupid things men are supposed to think about when trying to avoid orgasm. Instead, I repeatedly told myself that it was not my cock. It was her tool and hers alone to receive pleasure from until such time as she allowed me release. I was only the caretaker of her favorite sex toy and could not – would not – allow myself to fail her and get in the way of her pleasure. It was difficult. Very difficult. But I willed the orgasm back. In fact, I was so successful that, after she came and told me I was free to come myself, I had some work to do to get back to the edge of coming. But come I did in the most explosive, most intense, most abso-fucking-lutely mind blowing orgasm of my entire life. I actually felt the hot, thick slug of ejaculate surge up, out of my prostate and through every inch of her cock in a way I had never felt before. Regardless of all that talk from before of mourning the orgasm – of regretting the passing of the denial – I can say without reservation that I wanted that orgasm and loved every second of its existence.

This moment of pure orgasmic bliss is why I so enthusiastically embrace orgasm denial. When I think back on all the hundreds of meager, lonely orgasms pulled manually from my body over the bathroom sink or in front of the glow of internet porn, they couldn’t – not even in combination – compare to this one, single event. This one perfect orgasm allowed to me by the love of my life, my keyholder.

To be continued.

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Thumper fails

The monthly visitor has left the building, so last night I had a feeling Belle was going to let me out. At first, she requested a massage to her back and feet, so I lit the candles, got the oil, and laid out the towel as she put the youngest to bed. Once that was done, though, she said she was cold and just wanted to be under the covers so I could warm her. Fine by me! I stripped (with permission) and climbed in. A few minutes later, she told me to get the keys and the little prison was off.

My last orgasm had been six days earlier. I have no way of knowing since I didn’t keep strict records on such things until I gave up control of my sexual satisfaction to her, but I’m pretty sure six days has to be one of the longest times I’ve gone without release in my adult life. So, needless to say, being naked and under the covers with my wonderful Belle Fille, my mind (and hands) immediately went to her body. She told me the massage was off, but that didn’t mean I was without instructions. First, I was to get her nice and warm by manually stimulating her with my fingers. Then, I was to mount and fuck her – slowly – until she archived orgasm. I, however, was not to cum. Normally, she’d let me cum after her, but I got the impression that this time I was out of luck.

After a little while of sucking and licking her nipples and doing my dead level best to stimulate her clitoris, I could no longer stand the anticipation and begged to fuck her. I mounted her and felt her soft, warm moistness envelope my six-day-neglected cock. I nearly shot my load right there. I forced myself to consider other, less interesting subjects and started the long, slow strokes she requested.

I can make my Belle cum about 99% of the time using my fingers, mouth, or cock. The most popular paths to her orgasms are my fingers followed by her getting on top of me and riding my cock. Mounting her missionary-style is the one that takes the longest for her. Knowing this, I also knew I was going to have to concentrate very hard not to cum. After several minutes of fucking her slowly and continuing to pinch, suck and lick her nipples, I found myself on the very brink of orgasm. I withdrew and, hoping to buy some time to recover, started to rub my dick head against her clit (something she’s enjoyed in the past). This time, however, she ordered me back in. She wanted me to fuck her to orgasm and didn’t much care that I needed to take a break. So, back in I went.

I felt a small slug of ejaculate escape upon entering, but I think was whatever had locked and loaded from the edge of the orgasm I had just come down from. I felt OK, though, and continued to work on her tits. I felt very much like her pet at this point. I was suffering – straining not to cum and in an awkward position fucking her while also working her tits. I was nothing more than her tool. A big meat fucking machine with her favorite dildo attached. She started to whisper how good what I was doing with her cock felt. I could sense she was getting close. She was breathing heavier and moving her hips in counter motion to my thrusts. Her mind was entirely on her own pleasure and without regard to what I was feeling and I knew it. And I loved it. And that’s when it happened.

I felt the wave of the orgasm too late to do anything about it. I came and I came. Probably six or more spurts into her. I tried to stop it and fought every one so that, even though I had been saving it up for a week, I didn’t enjoy a moment of it. I knew I had failed. She had not yet cum, but I did. I tried to keep going but the sensation on the head of my cock was too intense. Besides, I was starting to get soft. She told me to stop but to leave it in there. I pushed in as far as I could while she moved her hips around me. She did achieve a fierce little orgasm, but nothing like the OMFG type I had hoped she’d get.

I know there are dommes out there who would really make me pay for such a terrible transgression. My Belle’s not one of them. She does acknowledge that I owe her, but has so far not made clear what, if any, punishment I’ll receive for failing to contain my pleasure before hers. On the one hand, I love her for her sweet gentleness. She was really happy I got to cum and didn’t feel too much put out for not getting a good one herself. She says I owe her one tonight and that I better be able to contain myself this time. On the other hand, though, I wish she’d be a little tougher on me. I need to feel that what I did last night will lead to consequences I may not be happy about. If I know all I’ll get is a light verbal scolding, will I fight as hard next time to keep from cumming?

The best part for me about how she reacted was immediately after her little orgasm. She said she wished she had a harem so she could get the next guy to come finish the job I was unable to complete. Maybe he’d be a more worthy lover. This was perfect. The thrill that went down my spine as she said these mildly humiliating and non-threatening things (of course, there is no other guy and there never will be) was delicious. However, I think she felt that saying them hurt my feelings or something because she immediately started to backpedal. It’s kind of funny, actually. I think there might be a snarling little dominatrix in there somewhere. How else would those things have come from her lips at just the right time to stoke my feelings of failure and inadequacy? But then the nice girl came back and tried to cover it all up. I love that nice girl, don’t get me wrong. I married her. But, when I’m her pet, I’d much rather have the bad girl come out, kick up her feet, and stay a while.

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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.

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Changes are afoot

Ugh, being away from Belle Fille has been hell…on both of us. In the past week, we’ve spent about 12 hours together and for most of those we were sleeping. First she was gone and I was miserable and now I’ve been gone and it’s her turn. As I write this, I’m about 12 hours away from going home to her and not a moment too soon. What is it they say about tomorrow being the first day of the rest of your life?

Saturday was our 11th wedding anniversary. Eleven years of keeping my sexual needs and wants hidden from her. Eleven years of her not being able to fully embrace the sexual being that was within her. Eleven years leading up to a crisis in our marriage that’s left us stronger for having survived it. If the past six weeks (since I told her about the affair) have been the time our relationship was being heated and hammered by the blacksmith, then this past week was the final plunge into cold water before our new marriage – forged from what was left of the old – was fully complete.

We’re calling this “11.1” – the first year after the first eleven years. Standing here at the brink of it, I find myself filled with excitement and overwhelmed by the potential of it all.

So, to fill you in on the events of the past several days: On Wednesday last, Belle came home from her trip. I did everything I could to clear the decks so that, upon her arrival, we could focus on each other. However, her plane landed early so the kids were still awake when she got home. Whatever. Minor setback. We still got to spend quality time (most of it naked by candlelight) and, after she climbed on top of me and came, she stayed up there and rode me to a fantastic orgasm. Jesus, I thought my toe nails were going to pop off. It had been just five days since my last emission (not that long compared to what many on the interweb say they’ve endured) but it was the longest I’d gone without release (while also being sexually aroused) since, like, ever.

The CB6K will arrive tomorrow and all the other toys (with the exception of the new cock rings) have already shown up. She’ll be leaving again on Thursday to spend time with her girlfriend in San Francisco (no, not that kind of girlfriend – but bonus points for thinking it) and I have to admit I hope she leaves me locked up while she’s away. I’m a little worried about getting the fit right in just a few days, but think I can figure it out in time.

Lastly, Belle has expressed an interest in joining me on this blog. I’ve set her up with an account, so we’ll see what happens. The idea of a he-said-she-said thing kind of turns me on and, I think, her journey along this new path might be even more interesting than mine.

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Bleh

So I’m feeling kinda bleh tonight. Belle’s out of town and I miss her and wish she was with me. In fact, I feel her absence with a special keenness because we’ve been through so much lately and have come so far in such a short period of time. I really feel the need to be with her now, but of course, I’m not.

At the beginning of our relationship she’d go overseas for a week or two and I’d miss her so badly that I’d call her voicemail just to hear her and I’d walk into her closet and bury my face in her sweaters just to smell her. I’m feeling a little like that tonight. I know she’ll be calling me later but I also know she’ll be 1,500 miles away and that we’ll only be together for one night before I leave and have to spend five more days away from her.

Like I said, bleh.

Plus, I keep finding more blogs and sites on chastity/tease & denial/orgasm denial and find myself feeling more and more distant from the vast community of people practicing these things. There are a few islands of apparent sanity that seem closer to where I am, but so many of the others are alien to me. They’re either guys looking to be absolutely dominated by their women who will keep their nasty, awful, piggish manseed bottled up inside them forever or they’re serial masturbators practicing a special kind of self-loathing and who are trying to save themselves from themselves with $180 pieces of acrylic. There are some elements of these guys that I can see in myself, but for the most part I feel as different from them as I am from just about anyone on the planet. To be honest, it’s starting to suck a lot of my enthusiasm out of all this.

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Blue balls

Jesus, my balls ache. They feel fat, heavy, and bloated. I’m pretty sure this is merely a symptom of not being released by Belle, but it’s only been three days since my last orgasm. We’ve had sex two of those nights and one of the mornings plus she jacked me off last night and this morning (up to the point of orgasm, but not beyond). So, I’ve had more than my fair share of stimulation, but no release. *groan*

On the other hand, it could be a result of my D.I.Y cock ring. While shopping for chastity devices, I read on Tickleberry their tips for measuring the circumference of my balls and cock (you need that for the trapped-balls type devices that fit around your unit). They recommend taking that measurement to the local hardware store and getting a similarly sized steel ring to check the fit. I did the math (circumference / 3.14) and got a diameter over 2 inches. This seemed odd since most of these things seem to top out at 2 inches and, while it does somewhat pain me to say this, the size of my member is nothing out of the ordinary.

After wearing a 2″ ring from my local hardware store for two days and a night, I had to take it off due to the pain. It’s not too tight when my dick is soft, but when it’s hard (as it was pretty much the entire first night I wore it) it’s quite tight. The next day, the pain was gone. Since Belle had allowed me to orgasm the night before, I couldn’t know what caused the pain. I wore the ring again over night and had to take it off again the next day due to pain, but that was after being denied the night before.

So, I’m left with two scenarios. One, the circumference of my unit is freakishly large and I’ll only be able to wear custom-fit elephant-type chastity devices. While this might be good for my ego, it’s a real pain in the ass as I so badly want to wear chastity for more than 48 hours at a time. Or two, I’m a weak little pussy that only after a couple of days of denial has such a bad case of blue balls that I’m left limping around the house like a 70-year-old.

Neither is very appealing. I’ll keep you posted.

P.S. We eventually bought the CB-6000 from this site which had the lowest price I could find online. Not only was it cheaper than a stainless model, but it comes with multiple rings (none of which is bigger than 2″). We figure it’s a good training wheels type option to use while deciding if a chastity device is right for us. If so, I’m definitely getting some heavy metal.

Belle, who just left town for a business trip, told me I could open the box when it arrives but I can under no circumstances put it on since, technically, the device belongs to her, not me (as does the thing it goes on). I anxiously await its arrival.