Libéré en étant enfermé
I’m going to start a weekly post feature, not unlike HNT, where I pull forward a few choice images from the Portfolio. I’m calling it the Weekly Woof because 1) it will be weekly (duh) and 2) they’re pictures that make me go “woof.”
This week’s obviously VNSFW entries after the jump.
So a funny thing’s happened. Well, two things really and I’m not sure they’re all that funny (as in, haha kind of funny) but happened they have.
Faithful readers will know I’ve continued to have a serious thing for porn even though I’m now nearly continuously locked in a device and, even when I’m not, having an orgasm is not an option. Basically, I look at it (and read it and watch it and would roll around naked in it if I could) simply to feel the sensation of ever-escalating levels of arousal. However, as I said in my last post, even though Belle was out of town and that would normally leave me plenty of time to indulge my habit, it never really sparked for me. I did try by visiting the usual haunts, but even when I was sorting images for the Portfolio, I never really found myself getting overly hot and bothered. Whenever I started to move in that direction, I’d find myself not thinking, “Gee, I wish I could stroke myself right now,” and instead thought, “Gee, I wish I could be stroking Belle right now.” My urge to orgasm and masturbate and in any way experience pleasure while consuming the porn was all about her orgasm and masturbation and pleasure. Since I effectively no longer have a cock (at least as a pathway for sexual pleasure), those autonomic impulses have been rewired to focus on her sex organs and orgasm.
I did find myself pausing, slack-jawed, over images of big fat cocks with ejaculate running down their sides or other images of semen puddling on a woman’s stomach or of a woman’s hand wrapped around a cock as its payload was shooting out or of some guy’s face dripping with spunk, but I looked at them the same way I watch a show on the lifestyles of the rich and famous or when some dude in a really sweet classic Corvette drives by. I longed to be in their places, but in a detached “that could never happen to me” kind of way. I will never have that fabulous all-glass house overlooking the ocean and I will never drive the 1976 ‘Vette, but isn’t it fun to think about. Similarly, I will not be shooting my own copious load any time soon, but wow, look at what that guy did!
I told Belle about this shift in attitude the night she got home and, even though I wasn’t really trying for anything that very moment, she let me get her off. In short order, I found myself sucking on her clit, hard meat in the device painfully pressing into the bed, and an almost physical connection to her climax. I felt completely plugged-in to her pleasure. As she arched her back, I tensed and moaned right along with her. She came and I felt the release inside me. We enjoyed a simultaneous orgasm but without the distraction of my own getting in the way. I was still so, so fucking horny afterward and couldn’t take my hands off her or press myself close enough to her, but I was satisfied. In the only way I can be now. And it was fucking great.
The second thing that’s happened is I’ve almost totally lost my whole “service sub” vibe. Ever since we were in London and I was profoundly knocked out of my headspace, I have felt barely a quiver of interest in really serving Belle. I’ve been a bit lazier and more self-centered. The other night, I got home and she was pissed at me for not keeping the house in order while she was gone. It was, I thought, in pretty good shape, but it wasn’t up to her standards. Then last night, I totally spaced on making her coffee. Turns out, she’s not very pleased with me (told me I “wasn’t on her list of favorite people”). I don’t like her to be unhappy, but I’m very glad to see there is an element of our dynamic she really doesn’t want to live without. She’s grown to expect the service from me. You could read this as a failure on my part (and it surely is), but it’s also reassuring in that we have developed a symbiotic feedback loop and integrated it into our lives. This is really kinda cool.
Now if I could only get my vibe back, we’d both be happy. And she might even let me share another orgasm.
When I started my new little venture in porn distribution, I said I’d post “specifically the porn that, for whatever reason, speaks to me as a chastised submissive bisexual male.” I find that, even just a few days into it, that that’s not exactly how it’s unfolding.
There’s a difference, it turns out, between merely consuming porn and showing what you like to the rest of the world. Even though I’ve become fairly comfortable exposing myself (both physically and emotionally) here on the blog, there’s something different about showing everyone what turns your crank. It’s like the opposite of a Rorschach test where people get to see things in you based on the pictures rather than the other way around. In much the same way I made the decision long ago to draw a line between certain things that happen in my head or in my life (even if they’re germane to this blog’s purpose), I now find myself not posting all the images that move me.
What I’m doing now is more akin to curating than anything else. I look at the images with a different eye. As opposed to just posting the “hot” ones, I feel the need to make sure they fit the image I want to project for my little collection (and, by extension, this blog and, by extension, me). After blogging for about a year and a half, it’s like I’ve developed something like a brand I want to nurture and protect. I suppose that kind of thinking is a byproduct of my professional life. I can’t help it.
In any event, what follows is a random set of observations regarding some things I’ve figured out now that I’m seeing the porn (rather than just looking at it) as well as what I’m looking for in an image before I post it.
The first and maybe most obvious thing is I’ve chosen not to post is images of women in obviously submissive poses or performing obviously submissive acts. This isn’t a political statement or anything, it’s just that there’s so goddamn much of it out there already. There seems to be, in particular, a fascination with close ups of women performing fellatio in the sample I’ve been perusing. Also, women being contorted into uncomfortable positions while being fucked.
An example of one such image is this one. I find it hot for a number of reasons, but for my collection, it’s inappropriate because of the relationship it suggests between the woman and the man’s cock (the man’s beautiful, beautiful cock). This is not to say, had the camera pulled out, that the larger scene wouldn’t have been much different, but for my purposes, I want to show images where the woman is minimally equal to the man and preferably superior. This is highly subjective and I think some of the pictures I’ve chosen (like this one) don’t suggest any kind of power dynamic. However, I bring my own perspective to the scene. Where someone might see two lovers in an embrace I will also add a dynamic or scenario that’s probably only in my head.
The images I especially like are those where the woman’s pleasure appears to be the focus of the sexual act (such as this or that). These are the minority of the images I’ve seen. While they also don’t necessarily suggest a power dynamic, they do illustrate something I’ve felt my entire life: the woman’s pleasure is just as, if not more, important than mine and should always come first.
The next kind I like are the “adoration” type images where the man is demonstrating how much he’s into the woman. I simple love these two.
Sliding down the D/s scale, you find things like this or this. I almost feel self-conscious posting those as they’re so obvious, but they’re also tripping enough of my triggers (as well as aligning well enough with the “brand”) that they get included. I have found myself being somewhat more discriminating when it comes to this kind (here’s a nice one).
I have been including pictures of solo people I find especially attractive, either in repose (example 1 and 2) or pleasuring themselves (3 and 4). Those are there only because I find them especially attractive (and I’m totally jealous of the guys).
The ones I’m most missing are images of men with other men. I have at least one that I’m very happy with, but pictures of guys being submissive or demonstrating adoration to other guys have so far been very rare. There’s a metric shit ton of generic guy on guy sex out there (some of it very attractive – hello Corbin Fisher) and quite a bit of hard core leather stuff, but what about the gay D/s that’s not studded and covered in body hair? If you have any sources, I’d love to see them.
So there you have it. Nearly 800 words about pictures. I’m sure there’s something I meant to mention but forgot and I’m also sure the collection will continue to evolve. In the mean time, I hope you enjoy it.
My recent post on the kind of porn I’m drawn to gave me an idea. No, it’s not a particularly novel or even an original idea as it’s apparent that only about a gazillion other people have had done the very same thing, but that’s how ideas go sometimes.
It seems to me that if one of the purposes of this blog is to relate how my experiences are shaping my thinking and feeling, then how it effects the kind of pornography that stirs me is also relevant. In fact, the kind of porn I find myself responding to has changed quite a bit since Belle and I brought D/s, T&D and chastity into our relationship. As I’ve said before, in the past I was consuming mostly gay porn with rather occasional authoritarian overtones. Now, women are much more prevalent. In particular, the images with women suggest (at least to me) a dynamic like the one I have with Belle. It’s often not obvious or even what the photographer had in mind, but it’s what I see.
So anyway, I’ve started a Tumblr photo blog called Thumper’s Portfolio where I’m going to collect pictures I like, but also the occasional story or even video. It’s not going to be just any porn that turns my crank, but specifically the porn that, for whatever reason, speaks to me as a chastised submissive bisexual male. I’m not planning on adding any color as to why a particular image works for me. It’ll just be a stream of consciousness kind of thing.
I could have integrated this stuff into this blog, but don’t think that the majority of my readers are all that interested in seeing the stuff that turns me on. If you’re interested, check it out. If not, ignore it. If you do check it out, I hope you like it.
I find that the more I’m locked up, the more I’m interested in seeing pictures of hard cocks. Now, I admit I like pictures of hard cocks as much as the next guy (OK, I probably like them more than the next guy), but this isn’t just about looking at porn. This is about seeing the thing I don’t get. The one thing that’s not on the menu for me in any way: hard, throbbing, occasionally dripping cock.
Surabaya Jim is a site that Maymay brought to my attention in a comment here. It’s a Tumblr blog that only posts pictures of cocks. Big ones, littler ones, really hard ones, sorta soft ones, fat ones, skinny ones, black ones, white ones – you get the idea. Just cocks. In the spectrum of porn sites, it’s not especially creative, but it does draw me like a moth especially when I’m where I am now. I’d post some of the pictures here, but on the NSFW scale, I’d imagine a close up of a big erection has to rate about a 9.5. I’ll put a list at the end of this of some of my recent favorites. I noticed in looking for those that the one attribute most of them share is that they either show or suggest that the model is playing with himself. Yeah, that’s the other thing I don’t get to do.
When I wear the device, it is a constant. It’s always hard and smooth and it pretty much always looks the same, regardless of what the state of its contents are. As I’ve said before, after a while (maybe 10 days or so), I stop thinking about it as a thing that’s on me and start to think about it as part of me. It starts to feel as though I don’t actually have a cock anymore. That I’ve become this third kind of person. I’m not sure if this is a good thing or a bad thing, but as the cock transforms into this static steel member, I find that looking at the images on Surabaya Jim helps me stay connected with the real me. Makes me crave the living meat within. Stops me from totally transforming into a Pleasure Island donkey.
Anyway, here’s the porn:
It’s been 45 days since I last had an orgasm. I’m not writing this for any other reason except Belle’s still out of town (back tomorrow night!) and I’m really starting to feel both her absence and my extended orgasmless existence. I’ll admit up front here than I’m kinda all over the place tonight. No actual point to make, just feeling the need to express myself.
I’ll start by giving myself a little credit for mostly avoiding websites that’d make me even hornier than I already am, but it’s getting harder to resist. Especially since I’ve just found two cuckolding blogs (one fiction, one non-fiction). Thing is, this cuckolding stuff really turns my crank, though I know it’ll never happen. Belle’s said she has zero interest in going outside our relationship. Not only is she very much a one-man woman, she’s also very satisfied having sex with me. She loves the cock and loves that I know how to use it (though, admittedly, I was better at it back when I wasn’t always trying to keep myself from coming). So anyway, yeah, the cuckolding thing will remain pure fantasy, albeit a hot, blood-pumping one.
I realized today that the majority of the porn I’m consuming of late is heterosexual. In the years leading up to the introduction of D/s into our relationship, I enjoyed mainly gay porn with only an occasional foray into straight stuff. Nowadays, though, I’d say three-quarters of the stuff I look at or read is straight, kinky, female dominant entertainment. I always figured I liked the gay stuff before because, as an avowed bisexual, guys were what I couldn’t get at home. Now, though, I’m seeking out and enjoying themes that are either exactly what I get at home or variations on that.
A little while back, there as a bit of a debate in the comments about porn and my consumption of it. Belle was considering cutting me off in an extension of her control over my sex but ultimately decided she didn’t much care if I looked at it or not. Jane Docent had a good point when she said:
Are you really denied if you make yourself “hard and bothered”? You’re supplying your own sexual stimulation. Supplied, not denied.
I actually agree with that which is why I would have acceded to Belle’s restriction, had she required it, but I think the opposite point could be made that it isn’t whether or not I get turned on that’s important, but that I can’t so anything about it. That’s her control. If I had to, I could use my imagination to create my own internal porn. In either event, I couldn’t provide my own relief or even touch myself.
The question was also asked as to why I’d even want to look at porn. Tim said, “It almost sounds like additional suffering!” Well, yes. It is. Maybe that’s the point! I’m still wired to seek out the stimulation even if all it’ll do is build and stew inside. It makes my head buzz sometimes, but as I said in my reply comment, a lot of what gets me going sexually is excessive stimulation. Being locked up and letting the porn push my arousal to ever higher levels is part of what I’m in this for. My only regret is that I’m so turned on without Belle. Everything’s better when she’s with me.
So, anyway, she’s out of town and I’m locked up as I always am when we’re apart. She told me before she left that I would be secure until we leave next week on a short trip to Mexico (probably getting out on the 13th). She’s going to be nice and let me out for the entire trip which is very sweet of her, I think. I’m not keeping track officially anymore, but in looking at the blog since September 1, it looks like she’s kept me locked up 28 out of 37 days. If not for the fact that she really likes her cock, I probably would have been in longer than that.
Regardless of whether or not I’ll be secure on the trip, based on the very few hints she’s dropped, I don’t get the feeling I’ll be coming any time soon, even on vacation. Like I said, it’s been 45 days. How much longer? If it’s not until we get back, that’ll be over two months.
Assuming, of course, I don’t fuck up in Mexico.
As I said, Belle’s away on a short business trip. This means, as usual, I’ve taken advantage of the opportunity to consume a fair amount of porn. Since she left me in the clutches of the CB6K, this has led to a corresponding increase in the amount of unexpended hormones coursing through me. Also, as usual, it means last night was very nearly sleepless. I did sleep, for about two or three hours, but not until I popped a Tylenol PM and even then not for at least an hour or so after I took it. Today, I found myself dealing with some interesting and heretofore unknown side-effects of my denied, locked, and hormone drenched condition.
In my job, I often find myself in rooms full of women where I am either the only man or only one of two. Today, I was in about four meetings stretching over five hours where I was outnumbered at least 4-1 by the double-x set. After the third hour or so, I started to feel the electric resonance of carnivorous butterflies bouncing around in my chest. These hormonal surges start to kick in after a couple of weeks of orgasmless existence, but I had never experienced one in that setting. I felt like getting up and running as fast as I could through the endless rows of cubicles of my client’s office. It was hard to sit still. When asleep, these surges will wake me up. When already awake, they apparently make me want to do jumping jacks on the conference room table.
In any event, while all this was going on, I happened to glance across the table at one of the more attractive women I was meeting with. Suddenly, I was presented the most intense and palpable, well, vision, I guess. Hallucination? I don’t know what to call it, but I felt my mouth on a woman’s hard, erect nipple and my hands on a soft, female form. Not exactly the woman I was looking at, but looking at her had triggered it. There was no face, not even Belle’s, it was just a nipple and a body and me. Instantly, I felt the CB6K fully pressurize. I was fairly useless for the next five to ten minutes as my mind processed the experience and the surge of testosterone (or whatever) was absorbed by my body.
I wonder if I blushed.
Belle let me come three time last weekend. Three times in three days (only once inside her). I feel somewhat bad for not coming over here and posting about it (and even worse that I ignored the blog all week), but the truth is, after the three orgasms, I didn’t really feel like it. Every little bit of whatever energy I use to write what I write had left me (plus, I have a very busy week at work). Not only that, but (of course) my sub reservoir was totally drained.
The first orgasm was pretty straightforward. Shortly after getting in the room, Belle and I got into bed. I fingered her to orgasm and she told me to have my way with her. For a few moments, I thought she was going to keep me waiting, but she’s excessively nice to me. My resulting orgasm came quickly and explosively.
The second time, she had me blindfolded and tied to the bed and had just abused me with the flogger, ice, and wickedly cruel nipple clamps. Again, she’s crueler in my mind and I though she might have been stroking me just to leave me edged and horny, but she kept going and I eventually came like fountain. Whatever had spurted onto her hand she smeared all over my lips. All I could do was laugh hysterically at this, though I kept my mouth clamped shut and wiped the spunk off as soon as my hand was free.
The last time was Sunday morning. She had ridden me to her own orgasm and wanted me to go too, but something wasn’t quite right. I couldn’t come from underneath and had her roll over but couldn’t come from on top, either. Eventually, she let me jerk off and that felt almost as good as fucking her considering how long it had been since I had been allowed to enjoy my own hand all the way to pleasurable orgasm. Masturbation is quite unfairly derided, in my opinion. I really like it (and miss being able to do it).
The week passed with me slacking off on my duties until Wednesday when I finally confronted the mountain of laundry that had piled up. I don’t feel as though I’ve been of much service to her, partly because she’s on her period now but mostly because, as I said, all my submissive juices were juiced out of me. Yes, I’m one of those guys. I told Belle last night that I wanted us to get back into the rhythm, though. My 41-year-old libido has finally recovered from all the ejaculatory action of the weekend and I’m getting horny again. I know I said in my last post that I wanted to take a break from the dom/sub thang, and I guess we did, but mostly because I wasn’t energized and she was on the rag. I still haven’t come since then or had any sexual contact with her at all. She never released me from my servitude, though, and I’ve been faithful to her control over my sex even as the meat between my legs made it presence known this morning in a way that suggests the lizard within is starting to stir.
She’s left me out of chastity for the week, so this morning as I was in the bathroom getting ready for work, I snuck a little edging in. I’ve been counting how many times I can rapidly stroke myself before feeling the urge to come. I got up to over 120 before having to pause the first time. After a few moments of rest, I’d go again and find each time the number – unsurprisingly – got smaller. The last time, I only got to the high 30s before having to stop (and even then, a little bit leaked out). I bet I got about 400-500 strokes in. As long as she keeps me out of lock-up, I’d like to keep up this training program. I’d like to be able to stroke myself 1,000 times and not be close to coming. We’ll see how it goes.
I don’t expect to get much more time to practice, though. I leave town Monday for a three day conference and she’s said she thinks I need to be locked up before I go. Normally, business trips are an opportunity to consume porn and jack-off like a rabbit, but that was all before the new paragdim. If I’m really lucky, her period will end soon and she’ll let me service her a bit. That’ll leave me nice and worked up for the trip, and well motivated to keep up the blogging.
Well, maybe I spoke too soon when I gave my homebrew PA cable the old Thumper seal of approval. Today, I’m getting sporadic, intense pinching sensations from the area around the piercing. Like right now ouch ouch ouchouchOUCH!
OK, it stopped. Kinda. I think this is being caused by one of two things. It could be that the piercing is being aggravated by some pulling. Even though it has a lot more leeway from the cable sliding in and out of the tube, there is still a minor amount of pulling. If the cable went in about a quarter inch more, it’d be better. The other, and I think more likely, option is that the segment ring is pinching some of my skin on the little lip caused by the flared “penis head” shape of the CB-6000 tube. Once in a while, this area swells a little while I’m locked up and I’m experiencing that now. This pinching is not a new sensation. I’ve felt it occasionally when wearing a curved bar bell, but it’s always passed fairly quickly. Now, though, it appears as though the wire holding the ring will allow it to retreat just enough to pinch a wad skin on that little ridge – and hold it there. In any event, this is not the good kind of pain. It’s the “oh Jesus, get this thing off of me” kind of pain. I’m going to give it to the end of the day and see if it gets better. I might have to cut the wire off. That would suck, big time.
Meanwhile, I’m horny as a phrynosoma platyrhinos. Once the offspring were down for the count last night, I spent the better part of the evening reading chastity and denial porn (which, by the way, is even more formulaic than normal porn) and otherwise making myself hot and bothered. When I’m alone like that, I feel as though I can get myself so turned on than I could ignite a match just by holding it between my fingers. It doesn’t make a lot of sense, but I think the new cable actually enhanced my arousal. In the past, I’ve always known in the back of my mind that I was choosing to leave the device in place, but now I know that I have no choice at all. It’s way. Fucking. Hotter.
Eventually, I decided to try to sleep (since, of course, I was never going to be able to alleviate my condition) and I just laid there, tossing and turning. I was afraid of repeating that horrible night last time Belle was absent when my abject horniness kept me awake for a day and a half, but, with the help of my iPhone and a relaxing noise generator app, eventually drifted off. My sleep was fitfull. The CB6K seemed to be straining all night long. Regardless, I know I’ll do it to myself all over again tonight.
Here’s what I think about porn (at least, the porn I like): It’s fantasy. An escape. Total unreality. Just enough basis in real life so that it’s not outrageous and unbelievable (it needs to be just believable), but honestly not so far removed from a cartoon. Porn is not about the mundane mechanics of how sex should or does work, it’s about turning people on. Porn is not a guide to sex any more than The Lion King is a guide to wildlife. It should be reasonably well-written with all the words spelled correctly and with acceptable grammar. Basically, it shouldn’t look like it was pecked out with one hand (if you know what I mean). That is the standard I have tried to follow as I’ve continued this story.
Please note that the events I’ve depicted here have no basis in any personal experiences, except that Belle and I did once spend a very nice (very vanilla) weekend in Montreal in a room not unlike the one I describe in the story. I am not representing real life here and I am also very clearly not trying to describe some kind of ideal life through fiction. I would not want what happens to the guy in this story to happen to me (not all of it, anyway). Life is life, porn is porn. They are not the same.
Anyway, with that outrageously long preamble out of the way, let’s continue. Last we saw our protagonist, he was bound to a chair, a red dildo up his ass, on display in front of the windows of the hotel room he shared with his wife. Night was beginning to fall. Soon, it would be hard for anyone to miss him…