The Edge of Vanilla

Welcome

2010-12-31T23:59:00.000-05:00

You are probably here because you clicked on a Comment I left on another blog.

Or perhaps a web search, most likely involving the terms "chastity", "orgasm denial", "male chastity" or "chastity device", pointed you here.

Welcome.

I don't use this blog, at least, not with any regularity. But despair not!
This is pretty much just a mirror for the anecdotes and fiction that I've posted on my main blog.

For more details and links to various blogs and resources on sexuality, intimacy and relationships, and of course, the hot chastity porn, please click the link to: The Edge of Vanilla

Time and Punishment: Some dynamics of male chastity in marriage

2010-02-27T15:00:00.000-05:00

I often get emails from people asking whether or not Mrs. Edge and I have a chastity contract, or some kind of agreement as to how long I will be locked up. And often, they seem surprised when I explain that we don’t. That’s because we, um… we just don’t. We don’t have a contract, nor do we use games of chance, dice rolls, random numbers, or a dartboard, or even some kind of point system. Yes, I suppose this makes us boring and unimaginative, but that’s how we roll.

Partly, we can’t be bothered with rolling dice, or keeping track of days, or doing all the accounting with the points and demerits that some people like to use. Sure, if it makes denial fun for them, then that’s great. For us, it’s just a hassle. We’ve got enough things to keep track of. I mean, I can barely remember to get to the bank and the dry cleaner on the weekend.

But mainly, we don’t have a contract because Mrs. Edge thinks that if we’re going to play with this, then it should be totally up to her. Enforced chastity is a power exchange; Mrs. Edge thinks that a contract, or a dice toss, or a lotto pick takes the power away from her. Even a point system creates an obligation on her part, should I reach a particular goal. “Hey, I’ll have 100 points after I wash your car; that means you’ll have to let me out tonight!” My point is when we decided to explore this, the thing that made it hot for both of us was to give her 100% of the decision making power. I never know when she will allow me out, or allow an orgasm if she does. It might be a couple of weeks, a month, or several months. But it’s up to her, and that’s how we like it.

Read the rest of the story at The Edge of Vanilla on Wordpress.

Ahead of Time

2010-01-19T21:21:00.000-05:00

“You’re going to be locked up for a long time,” she said casually.

She was laying against my side, her fingernails tracing lines up my thighs, stomach, and chest. We had just made love, and were basking in the afterglow. Well, at least she was basking; I hadn’t come — nor had I for the past couple of weeks — and was still aroused.

“I know you don’t like to know ahead of time when I’m going to let you out, but I just wanted you know that it’s going to be, well, a long time. We haven’t played at a really long term in a while, and I was thinking that I wanted to try it again.”

I failed to suppress a whimper, and she looked up at me. “I hope you’re not complaining,” she admonished. “I mean, I unlocked you at the end of the summer, and you spent all autumn free as a bird. Winter’s almost half over; in fact. I can’t remember when you’ve had so much free time.”

It was true; I’d been unlocked for months, but it wasn’t exactly a Roman orgy around here.

“Yeah, but what with both of us getting the flu, plus the holidays, work, and all that, we barely had any sex at all, so it’s not like I’ve been running wild,” I explained. “I mean, for a couple of months, we even thought there was something in our water, since we just couldn’t get excited.”

She shrugged, and lay her head back down on my chest. “Anyway, since I’m going to lock you up tonight, I wanted to spend some quality time with you; it’s going to be the last time that your cock is going to be free for quite a while, and I had to get enough of it to keep me motivated.”

I whimpered again. Despite not having as much sex as I would have liked, I had certainly gotten used to touching myself whenever I felt like it, and feeling her warm ass as we lay spooning, and of course, being allowed to come pretty much every time we did have sex — as infrequently as it had been. And although we keep talking about long term denial as a fantasy — a really hot fantasy for both of us — the fact is that it’s been quite a while since we played at that, and I wasn’t totally looking forward to actually doing it. Sure, I knew it was only a matter of time before she wanted me back in the chastity device, but as the weeks seemed to slip by, I just fell out of the groove.

Until tonight. . .

Read the rest of the story at The Edge of Vanilla on Wordpress.

53 Days

2008-05-26T20:47:00.002-04:00

"So, how many days has it been, now?"

I brushed away a fine hair that had been tickling my nose and thought for a moment. "Fifty three days so far," I answered. She had one leg over my shoulder, and I planted several small kisses along her warm thigh, my other hand idly caressing her belly and waist.

I felt her hesitation.

"I, uh, have some bad news," she said after pausing for a few seconds. "I have to go to Kansas again."

"Oh, dammit. Don't even tell me. . ."

"Yeah, it's going to be late next week," she replied, almost sheepishly. "I'm sorry, I just didn't have any control over when Marketing was going to ask for new staff training."

I knew that there was nobody else available to go, but I was still disappointed. "You know, you promised only sixty days this time," I said reproachfully, hoping to rub in a little guilt. "By the time the weekend rolls around it's going to be sixty four days."

"Oh, come on," she replied, "that's only five percent extra. After two whole months, what's another half a week?"

"Yeah, well, I don't see you not coming for two months. Let's see how you'd react if I told you you'd have to go for four days, let alone sixty four."

She disentangled herself to get off of the bed and pad toward the bathroom. "Maybe I could mail you the key at the beginning of the week."

I snorted, "Yeah, right. And have it get lost like that other time? No, thanks."

The sound of water tinkled around the door. "Hey, maybe you could leave it with somebody," I called out. "Preferably somebody cute, kinky, or both."

"You son of a bitch," she sputtered, "you'd love that, wouldn't you?" Walking back into the room she threw a towel at me. "I think you're missing the point of having your cock locked up."

"Yeah, somebody cute and kinky," I mused aloud. "How about that cute blonde that works with you. You know, with the big rack. What's her name. . . Chris?"

I didn't hear my wife's answer because she was beating me over the head with a pillow. All I was able to make out sounded like, "You bastard! I'll get you for that!"

The conversation seemed to go downhill after that.

. . .

It wasn't until Thursday that she brought it up again.

"So, I gave it some thought," she said between bites of salad and grilled salmon, "and I thought that maybe it was a bit unfair to ask you to wait an extra four days, especially since I'm not going to be around."

"No, don't be silly," I responded, sprinkling a little more balsamic vinegar on my salad, "Not having you around might actually make it easier for me. And what the hell, it's only four days."

She shrugged. "Okay, whatever. I'll tell Chris not to bother."

The clink of my fork falling to the plate made her look up with a sly smile. "This wine is good. Have we had it before?"

"What did you say?" I asked slowly.

"The wine. Have we had this before?"

"Aauurrgghh! No, about Chris! What the hell did you do?"

"Oh, it's nothing. I just asked Chris at work about holding the key. You remember Chris, right? Tall, blond hair, works out at the gym. . ."

Oh hell, I thought. I hope that she didn't tell Chris what the key was for. She wouldn't do that. Would she? Damn, yes she would.

"Oh my freakin' God. You told somebody you've got me locked up? Are you out of your mind?"

"It was your idea, you big jerk. I told Chris that I had a key for a lock that you would be interested in opening, only for one day. You'd have to give it back the next day. Now, stop hogging that wine and pour me another glass."

I put my head in my hands. Oh my freakin' God, one of her friends knows. By next week, her whole freakin' office was going to know that she keeps my cock locked away, only letting me out once in a great while.

"Oh, and by the way, I mentioned that part of the deal was that you had to be especially nice to Chris if you wanted the key."

I looked up. "Especially nice? As in, if I weren't nice I might not get the key?"

My wife nodded, smirking.

I groaned.

"I'll get the dishes tonight, honey," she said to me in mock sympathy. "Go take a shower and lay down, you look a little pale."

. . .

"Umm. . . about Chris," I began. It was Saturday night; we were in the bedroom and she had almost finished packing for her Sunday flight. "What exactly did you tell her?"

"Her?" she asked absent-mindedly. "Oh, Chris. Are you still worried about that?"

I nodded. "Of course I am."

Smiling she asked "Have you been worried about that for the last few days? Gosh, and all this time I was thinking that you'd enjoy the chance to have some fun with my cute friends. After all, it was your idea." She pushed me back onto the bed. "And since I'm not going to be around, Chris will determine whether or not you can be unlocked after I get back. Oh, and Pat, too."

"Pat? Who the hell is Pat?" I demanded.

"Why, it's Chris's partner, of course," she reminded me, "Don't you remember them from the summer picnic?"

"Oh, sure," I lied. For crying out loud, there's a bazillion women working for this company, I can't keep track of all of them. "Umm. . . so, by 'partner,' you mean that Chris is. . ."

"Is gay, yes." she finished. She smiled a little too sweetly. "You don't remember them, do you?"

"No, no, of course I remember! Blonde, tall, Chris. Big rack. The one who's got a partner named Pat."

She eyed me narrowly. "You don't remember Chris or Pat, do you?"

"Sure I do. From the summer picnic, right?"

She hit me with the pillow.

Hmm, I thought. All I have to do is be "especially" nice to a couple of her cute friends from work? And if they work out at the gym, they must be at least in halfway decent shape. Maybe this won't be so bad after all.

. . .

Knowing that we would be apart for the rest of the week, my wife finished up her packing first thing in the morning so that we'd get to spend some quality time before she had to leave for the airport. She teased me by being as vague as possible about the things that I'd have to do for Chris, telling me only that it was entirely up to me as to whether or not I'd be allowed to come - and how. I told her that I still felt a little disappointed; after having been denied for two months, I'd much rather have an orgasm with her - it's generally much more fun.

"Generally?" she sneered, "You're just digging yourself deeper and deeper, aren't you?"

That probably explains how I ended up naked and tied down to the bed. My wife kneeled over me, the key to my chastity device hanging tantalizingly from a chain around her neck.

"So, before you go, are you going to tell me what the deal is with Chris?"

She looked down at me, grinning evilly and lightly scratching me with her nails. "Why, does it really matter?"

"Uhh. . . doesn't it matter to you?" I asked.

She shrugged. "The other day I told Chris that you would be very anxious to get this key. But after thinking about it for a few days, I decided that this might be a good test to see how badly you really want to come."

Frowning up at her, I asked "Are you serious? What about your promise to let me out in sixty days?"

She shrugged again. "I changed my mind. I was thinking that this would take us into a new level. 'Push the boundaries', isn't that what you always say?"

I shook my head in disbelief. "What are you saying? How long are you going to keep me locked up?"

She tweaked my nipple, making me gasp. "That will depend upon you." She put her finger over my lips and continued, "See, that's the 'pushing the boundary' part. If Chris tells me that you've been. . ." she paused to consider a moment, ". . . cooperative, then I'll be more inclined to allow you to come after I get back. If you're not cooperative, then you'll continue to be locked up."

"But. . . for how much longer?"

"Until you're . . . more cooperative, I guess," she finished.

This wasn't too bad, I thought. It sounded like my wife was expecting me to be very accommodating to one of her friends. Chris sounded like a hot number. Hmmm.

"Okay, what's the catch?" I demanded, suspiciously.

"Whatever do you mean?" she asked sweetly.

"It sounds like you've given Chris carte blanche with me for the rest of the week."

She nodded. "That might be a good way to put it," she replied.

"But, what if she wants something intimate? Like, you know, sex or something?"

She smiled. "You're locked up, silly, remember?"

"Well, what if she wants oral sex?"

"She? You mean Chris?"

I nodded, not liking the grin fixed on her face for the last few minutes.

"Oh, no problem. Chris loves oral."

This sounded too good to be true.

"Uh, that means that I might have to, er , you know. . . " I looked up at her, hoping that she'd catch my drift.

"Are you asking for my permission?"

I nodded again.

"Chris is my friend, so I'd expect you to be as . . . accommodating as possible. Of course, if you want to continue to be locked up long after I get back . . ."

I relaxed and tried to repress my smile.

She leaned over to give me a long, passionate kiss, her warm breasts pressed against my chest. I moaned with desire, my cock stirring in the plastic cage. After a moment she pulled away and cupped her hands around my swollen balls. She flicked a finger against the device, and swung her legs over the side of the bed.

"I've got to get leave," she said simply, and quickly put on her blouse and skirt. I watched as she slipped into her shoes and walked toward the bathroom.

"Hey," I called after her, "what about me?"

I started as the doorbell suddenly rang. She reappeared from the bathroom and walked toward the door. "What about you?" she called back over her shoulder.

"Are you going to just leave me here?" I whispered

Apparently so. I heard her walk down the hallway and open the door. I heard some low voices, and then footsteps coming back up the hall. Oh shit, I thought, she can't be bringing somebody in here now, could she? I tested my restraints, but they held fast.

My wife walked back into the room. She gave me a quick kiss on the lips, and grabbed her bags, and wheeled them back down the hall. A pause, then the low voices again and more footsteps back up the hall.

She popped back into the room, shrugging into her jacket. "Honey, I've got to go." She grabbed the CB-3000, my arousal making it stick out from my body. "But since you're already tied down and excited, I thought it would be a shame to let all this testosterone go to waste." She walked back to the door and motioned.

A moment later, her two friends came in.

Both obviously had spent some time working out at the gym. One was a tall blond. With a big. . .

Shaking my head, I started pulling against the chains that held me down.

"Honey, you remember my friends Christopher and Patrick, don't you? You know, from the summer picnic?"

Not the Usual Anniversary Present - 8

2008-03-24T18:09:00.000-04:00

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7

Week 31: Something changed for the both of us.

For the next few weeks after the night that she tied me down, her libido seemed to increase. After having gotten accustomed to the once a week oral or strap-on sessions, it was a pleasant surprise to have her after me three times a week. Even though she refused to let me out, I felt my own libido responding in kind as I took her with the strap-on or spent a half hour with her thighs wrapped around my head. I'm not sure what inspired her, but I decided to enjoy it while it lasted.

One night I mentioned casually, "I don't get it. Usually when you're in the mood, you're willing to take the damn cage off of me."

"Well, it's only been a week or so, hasn't it?" she replied lazily. While I attributed her lack of precision to the fact that her thighs were wrapped around my head, it didn't bode well. Usually she's good about keeping track of the days.

"No, it's been five weeks now, and I'm really having a hard time."

"Hmmm. Only a month and already you're complaining? I should make you go for another month just for that." Her fingers tightened on my hair and she pulled my face back between her legs. "In fact" she added as I resumed licking her wet mound, "I'm thinking that it's time to take your training to the next level."

I managed to lift my head a bit. "Training? What the hell are you talking about? This isn't training, it's denial! You expect me to be happy coming once a month?"

Her legs tightened around me, pulling me back into position. "Right now, I think that you're going to be happy coming whenever I let you, be it once a month or once a year."

"Once a year?" I exclaimed, "I can't do that - that's crazy!"

In answer, she held my head down with her hands and lifted her hips. I got the message. I resumed my slow licking and sucking, all the while listening to her talking - more to herself than to me - about my "going for some really long term training." The more she talked to herself, the more aroused she became, until soon she was bucking and thrusting her hips so much that I could barely keep up.

Afterwards, she laid across my chest, relaxing. I was still aroused, of course, but not painfully so; somehow being able to give her so much pleasure enabled me to sublimate my own arousal.

"Umm, about this 'training' you mentioned..." I began, "It sounds very erotic and all that, but I barely get to come once a month as it is; besides, you're always saying how much you prefer my cock to the dildo. It's not going to be easy for you to do without, you know."

I was hoping to talk some reason into her. She looked up at me.

"I'm sure it's going to be hard for a while," she smiled.

Week 34: I find that I've lost track of the time.

People talk about "lifestyle" this or that, without really having a conception of what it's like to live 24/7 with something. Oh sure, they do it for a week, maybe a month, but for most of us, exploring some alternative sexuality is more of a vacation from real life, rather than becoming part of real life itself.

I don't remember when it changed for me. At one point the idea of wearing the cage every day was exciting; even the frustration of being denied an orgasm for a week or two was arousing in a way. Eventually, though, the reality slammed home - I wasn't ever going to have as much sex as I wanted; or rather, I was never going to have as many orgasms as I wanted. It took a while to work through the frustration of not being in control of my cock, to have to forgo the pleasures the joyful consummation of lovemaking. I developed a love-hate relationship with the steel cage that I built - I was proud of how well it contained me and how secure it was, but hated having to wear it.

When my wife began keeping me locked for longer and longer periods, I found myself so grateful for the times she released me that I didn't mind going back in right. Eventually though, even that pleasure was mitigated by her decision that I should clean her with my mouth and tongue immediately afterward. When we discovered a good strap-on harness and dildo for me to wear, it was almost a mixed blessing - I was unlocked even less frequently, but at least I didn't have to humiliate myself as often. And I realized, that's what it was - humiliation; I was willing to promise anything for those ten seconds of glorious fireworks.

But at some point a few months ago I realized that I had gotten past even that, and became almost perversely proud of my ability to hold out without begging for relief. Once every month? I could handle that. But two months? Three? I tried to put the thoughts out of my mind. Fortunately, my wife really enjoys intercourse, and we both knew that the strap-on, although pleasant, just didn't quite have the same feel. Maybe it was the angle, or the shape of the head, or how it was situated on my hips. Sooner or later, she was going to let me out. She had to, right?

Week 36: Silly me – I was supposed to be enjoying this.

A few weeks later I came home early and picked up the mail. There was a small package addressed to her from a company that I recognized as an adult products mail order house. I was curious, but couldn’t figure out a way to open the package without leaving a trace. I left it on her dresser. Later on, after she had come home, I saw that the package was gone, but she didn’t say anything about it. That night, I mentioned it when I was giving her a foot rub.

"Oh, it’s just a little something that I thought would be interesting for us," she replied mysteriously. “You’ll find out on my next day off," she said simply, and dropped the subject.

Her next day off was in two more days. Eagerly arising, I fixed her some coffee and toast and I hopped into the shower while she ate. I realized that she didn’t give me the key before I took my shower, but she sometimes likes to tease me by letting me think that she “forgot". I slipped into the bed, and she was already waiting for me.

"Here, eat me," she commanded, holding my head in her hands. I proceeded to lick her gently. “No, harder," she said, “make me nice and wet."

I thrust my tongue into her, drawing it up her clit in long, firm strokes. She came quickly, bucking her hips. “Oh, that was so nice. You don’t know how much I’ve come to appreciate your tongue these last few months."

"It seems like you only appreciate my tongue," I complained.

"Oh no," she assured me, “I love your cock inside me, too. It’s just that it’s such a hassle to unlock you, let you out of your cage, and then lock you back up again." She pushed me onto my back. “That’s why I have something for you," she explained, "that is, for us".

Reaching under her pillow, she brought out a realistic - a very realistic - looking dildo.

"Oh my God," I exclaimed, "that's me!"

She nodded. "I told you that for our anniversary I wanted something different, remember? Did you figure out that I had made a cast of your cock last month? I had it made into an extension for you."

"It’s a penis extension. You want me to put this on?" I asked, incredulously, “I won’t feel a thing!"

"It's not just an extension," she explained, "This is made from the best 'cyberskin' for a squishy, yet firm feel."

Handing it to me, I saw that the front end was solid, but the other end was hollow. I squeezed it - the tip was amazingly lifelike. I saw the familiar veins and ridges - holding it almost felt like holding my own cock. No, it felt just like holding my own cock - just not attached to my body.

"It's meant to fit over the end of your chastity cage," she continued, "you'll be able to wear this when I want some of your nice cock inside me."

Looking it over again, I said, "If you like my cock so much, then why not just unlock me? Why do we need an extension? "

"Silly," she replied, “of course you wouldn’t need one - normally." She took the extension from my hands and leaned in close to my face. She gave me a deep kiss and whispered “But we don’t have a normal arrangement anymore, do we?"

She sat astride my legs and rolled the hollow part up like the end of a sock. Then she placed it over my cage and unrolled it. It fit perfectly, and the tight rubber held it firmly in place. I could see the outline of the steel cage at the base, but otherwise, it looked like I had a full erection - my own erection.

"Oh my," she said as she stroked it, “it feels so lifelike. I’m sure it will feel as good as it looks, too." Quickly she positioned herself over it and lowered her pussy onto the shaft. I could feel pressure, but no warmth, no friction.

"Hey," I complained, moving my hips, “what the hell are you doing?"

She was already pressing her hips to mine in pleasure. “Ooh, honey, it feels just like yours. So nice and deep, too." She continued to grind her hips onto mine. I reached up to her to fondle her breasts and waist, to hold her ass. I knew we were fucking, but I couldn’t feel it. This was worse than wearing a strap-on, worse than anything I could have imagined. The feeling was absolutely maddening, and I began to pump my hips frantically in order to feel something – anything.

"Oh, yeah, just like that," she mumbled, oblivious to my own frustration, “I can feel the bumps from the cage inside me, it’s wonderful!" She leaned her head back and shuddered softly as she came. “Oh, that was nice. Much better than having you just stick some old dildo inside of me. I wish I had known about this months ago."

She dismounted and lay down next to me, pulling me on top of her. Hoping that this was a temporary distraction, I carefully thrust into her. She was so wet that I, that is, my extension slid in effortlessly. Her legs immediate wrapped around my own, and I proceeded to pound into her, half in lust, half in frustration. Before long she was biting my shoulder and pushing her own hips hard into me. We fucked this way until I lost count of how many times she came. Finally she seemed to relax, so I pushed her onto her side so that I could enter her from behind. My wife just closed her eyes and gripped my hand as I plunged into her, filling her deeply. I still couldn’t feel anything but some slight rubbing and the pressure on the ring around my cage. I had hoped that in this position I could make my balls rub on her thigh enough to stimulate me, but after a few minutes it was obvious that there was no way that I could come with this extension on. My wife, however, had no problem coming, and did so a few more times before she asked to get on top again.

I started to complain, but she reminded me that the week before I had come without permission, so I had to accept my punishment. She seemed to get excited by telling me this, and she came quietly. She placed her hands on my shoulders and leaned forward to kiss me. I was a wreck, of course, but she placed a finger on my lips.

"That was wonderful. It felt so real, because it's just like you," she said contentedly, "and there’s no danger of you coming before I give you permission. Wouldn’t you say that that is a good thing?"

"Umm. . ."

"And it's so easy to put on, just half a minute to get you ready, and we don't have to bother with the straps and getting things in just the right position, like with the strap-on. That's a big plus, isn't it?"

I nodded, unsure of where this was going, but sure that they weren’t going well.

"And I kind of miss just being able to have a quickie, don’t you?"

Still unsure, I nodded again.

"I’m glad you feel that way, because I was thinking that lately I might not be too tired to have a nice fucking at night. I miss that, don’t you?" For emphasis, she ground her hips into me.

Again I nodded – this really was not sounding better.

I've wanted to have more sex at night," she continued, "but the problem is that it’s such a hassle to unlock you at night. Then you’re too excited anyway, and you either try too hard to hold back and it breaks my rhythm, or worse, you come too fast, and that’s not fair to me – especially since when I punish you, I’m only punishing myself. Don’t you agree?" She squeezed my balls firmly.

"Umm, yes. . . er, no. . . er . . "This was looking bad again.

She silenced me with a kiss. “But now we can have sex whenever we want. With this nice extension, we could have a quickie, and there’s no unlocking, no cleaning up, you can fuck me for as long as I want, and I’ll never have to worry again about you getting overheated. And best of all," she continued, "it's just like you, so I'll never miss having you inside me! Doesn’t that sound like a great idea?"

"A great idea for who?" I asked with my heart in my stomach.

"And to think that this is all because you wanted a little teasing for your birthday a few months ago. Thank you, darling, for a present that is giving me so much pleasure to give you." She leaned down to kiss me again.

A few? It had been almost eight months! This was looking decidedly bad. “Um, you mean that we’ll use this to have a quickie, or sometimes at night, and on your days off we’ll still unlock me so I can get some action, right?" I nudged her again, “Right?"

She looked down at me, smiling.

"Silly," was her only reply.

Back in the saddle again

2007-12-05T16:01:00.000-05:00

Well, not exactly in the saddle. We're not into pony play.

Yet.

I'm back into something else, though. Wanna see?

A little bit ago I wrote that the whole frenum piercing thing just didn't work out well with regard to using it with the CB3000. The barbell often pinched my skin in the cage, especially when I got aroused, and the lack of room made it difficult to keep clean, resulting in several infections during the year. I could never wear it for more than a couple of days at a time, which didn't sit well with the increasingly kinky Mrs. Edge, who over the last couple of years developed a fetish for longer (much longer) periods of orgasm denial.

For me, that is.

Anyway, a couple of months ago I removed the piercing and let the hole close up. That it did so with something approaching the speed of a nano-black hole was also annoying. However, there doesn't seem to be any permanent scarring, and all's well that ends well, right?

Knowing that Mrs. Edge was going on a short business trip this week, it was motivation for me to dig out theCB3K and fix some minor things so she could have something to think about while being away. These devices have ventilation holes at the top and bottom; unfortunately, the top holes allowed my skin to swell out rather painfully, so I had filled them in with epoxy. The epoxy yellowed and became loose, so I replace it with tiny bars of acrylic that I shaped and super-glued over the holes. It keeps the skin from swelling through, but allows some air flow and water for cleaning.

Yeah, it's gear-head talk, but chastity is not an exact science.

I put it on on Friday morning, and ended up wearing it all through the weekend. Family, work, and other obligations kept us from enjoying any intimate time, although we did manage about 10 minutes to look at the new CB6000 model online. It looked that she was going to head off to the mid-west without our getting an opportunity for sex, but Monday night we both managed to get to bed at about the same time. While she was in the bathroom, I donned my strap-on harness and warmed up her favorite dildo (which she calls my "other cock"), and lay in bed waiting.

She crawled in, and after a few minutes started moving her hands around. She felt my other cock and said "But what if I didn't want this one? What if I wanted your real one?"

"That's fine with me," I told her, "in fact, even better, since I haven't come since last week. I was just warming the other one up so you could have the option."

We began to make out a bit, and then a bit more, which was nice because for the last few months it seems like we've only had time for quickies. A short while later I was lying on top of her, my other cock pressing against her mound and my cage pressing against her ass cheeks. She indicated that she would like some lube, and I reached into the bedside drawer for the heavier stuff that I use for my other cock. My other cock is very lifelike, but the thinner lubes sometimes aren't enough lubricity to last and will sometimes leave her a little bit chafed.

We settled into her favorite position: missionary, with my hips pressed tightly against hers, angled slightly upwards to allow the curve of my other cock to massage her sensitive spot inside. I have learned to enjoy this position myself, because when I'm not focused on the six inches of sensitive meat, the rest of my body needs some extra sensation. I continued to kiss her while maintaining long, slow stokes, and it wasn't long before I felt her legs tighten around mine and felt her arch her back slightly. Obviously the idea of me back in the cage warmed her up pretty quickly.

She smiled mischievously. "That damn piercing," she complained, "wasted a whole fucking year on that."

I felt badly about this, and told her so. I mean, it was my idea, after all.

She indicated that I should shut up and to keep fucking her.

A few minutes later, she came again, a little harder than previously. She opened her eyes and told me "You know, I should really make you pay for that mistake. Do you realize I'd almost forgotten about this?" I smiled.

"Pay?" I asked, "Like, deny me for a while?"

"Yes," she replied as I continued my slow thrusting, "like, a long while." Her breathing grew deeper and faster.

"It was over a year that I tried to make it work," I reminded her, "maybe you need to make up for lost time with me. Would you make me pay for a whole year?"

She closed her eyes tightly and nodded. A few short moment later her long nails were digging sharply into my ass and she was pressing her hips up to meet mine. A short moan, and suddenly the look of intense concentration on her face turned into a relaxed grin. She opened her eyes and smiled at me.

A quick, mini-fantasy had just played itself out in her head. I wouldn't mind, but I'm convinced that she has stronger orgasms when she thinks about keeping me locked in for longer periods. I checked this morning, my ass still has scratch marks. "I really was going to unlock you, but now I think I'm going to make you wait until I get back."

"But... but..."

"It's really because you do such a good job with your other cock, you know." She tweaked my nipple and laid back. "It's late, and I think I'm done for the night."

I asked her if she wouldn't mind sitting astride me for a couple of minutes. I love this position because I enjoy seeing her body - even more now that all the exercising has given her a nicer shape. She complained a little, but pushed me over and slowly lowered herself onto me. My cage was pressing against her ass, and I could feel her warmth through the plastic.

We talked for a few moments, she asked me "If I took off the cage and told you that you had only two minutes to come, could you do it?" I nodded. "Two whole minutes? Sure thing."

"Well, how about one minute?"

"Umm, yeah, I think so," I replied, not liking where this was headed.

"What if I took it off and said 'You've got twenty seconds to come, and then the cage is going back on'?"

"Oh, that's totally unfair," I protested, still aware of her weight on my hips, "I train myself so hard to not come quickly, and then you try to sabotage that by telling me it's the only way I'd get to come?"

She laughed softly, and rocked her hips back and forth.

"You know," I confessed, "I sometimes do have fantasies about you teasing me for a long time, stroking me, keeping me right on the edge..." "Yeah?" she asked, her eyes closed, concentrating.

"And then, right at the very end, just when I'm about to come really hard..."

She closed her eyes and leaned forward slightly as I moved my hands from her breasts to her shoulders, and down to her waist.

"... you suddenly stop touching me as I come, just letting it spill out, ruining it."

She tensed briefly, frowning in concentration, and I pulled her hips down to meet my own. She let out a breath, sighing, and her body relaxed. She leaned forward to lay against my chest. No question that she was now really done for the night.

"You don't mind waiting until I get back, do you?" she asked, sleepily.

"No, I'm good. I thought I'd be begging to come, but I'm actually feeling pretty satisfied right now," I assured her. "Thank you for getting on top for that last bit, I really enjoy looking at you." And truthfully, being able to spend some time close both physically and emotionally really did make me satisfied.

She whispered a goodnight and turned on her side. I got up to remove and clean my cock, and to apply some lube to help me sleep through the night. A few minutes later I was back under the warm covers, spooning against her back.

In the morning, just before she left she noticed me rummaging through the kitchen junk drawer, looking for some masking tape.

"What do you need that for?" she asked. In response, I handed her a pen. She watched as I removed the emergency key to the lock from my keyring and wrapped the tape around it. I gave it to her, and she signed the tape, knowing that if I tried to remove it in order to unlock myself I'd rip the tape and destroy the seal. She dated one side and, displaying some good humor, drew a couple of little hearts on the other side. She took her own key and put it in her purse.

You can see my jumble of keys with the picture of the taped key. Clicking the above picture will bring you to an album with pictures of me wearing it. NOT SAFE FOR WORK or in the same room with younger family members.The camera adds ten pounds, of course, but anyone who's seen my pics from last year can see that I've toned up quite a bit since then.

And even though she said something about "waiting until next week," I have no idea if she really means it. At this point, I don't know when she'll next let me out.

Not the Usual Anniversary Present - 7

2007-12-03T18:40:00.000-05:00

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

Week 18: My week long birthday fantasy seemed to have turned into a permanent arrangement.

One night she happened to notice me rubbing some cream on the exposed area of my cock, and dabbing a little under the ring. I had long stopped trying to get myself off this way, since in the past it has only led to frustration, a sore cock, and lots of wasted cream; but I found that a little lubrication at night helped ease some of my discomfort. When she offered to help me, I was eager to have her lend a hand, so I lay back on the bed while she massaged the cream around the cage. Her touch being much better than my own, I was soon moaning in pleasure, fervently hoping that she wouldn’t stop.

My wife poured then poured cream on my balls, and massaged them with one hand while she rubbed my caged cock with the other. I tried not to let her see how excited I was so that she wouldn’t stop. Unfortunately, I couldn’t keep from thrusting my hips up to meet her strokes. Eyes twinkling, she squeezed my balls more firmly, knowing full well what effect that would have on me.

"Please, please let me come," I begged, "I'm so close… mmm. "

"I don’t know," she replied slowly, "you don’t seem to enjoy it when I let you come with this thing on."

"Oh, we can take it off, can’t we?" I was becoming frantic.

"No, I don’t think that’s a good idea," she said, but kept rubbing and squeezing. "I don’t think that you should get to come so easily. Besides, I’m sure you won’t even enjoy it."

My mouth was almost too dry to speak. "Yes, yes, I’ll enjoy it, I promise. Please, don’t stop, it feels so nice, oh please oh please …oh oh oh… uunhh..."

The next thing I knew, I had a few short spasms and the come just dribbled out of me. As usual, it wasn’t enough to abate my desire. My wife seemed fascinated by watching my cock leak all that fluid, and kept prodding it. Finally it stopped coming out, leaving a small pool of come on my stomach.

"Not very much," she commented, "you used to shoot so much of it, remember?"

I nodded, remembering how she often gave me hand jobs and I would end up with come as far up as my pillow, or sometimes even the wall. Apparently she remembered that, too.

"No, not very much anymore, I’m afraid," she said, shaking her head, "Poor honey, just can’t shoot if you can’t get it hard, can you?" She bent down to give me a kiss. "Oh, by the way," she added, "I don’t remember giving you permission to come, so I hope you realize what this means."

Damn it, I thought to myself, probably an extra week until she lets me out again. Ignoring the pained expression on my face, she just draped a towel over me and left the room.

Week 21: My frustration started to give way to resigned acceptance.

At some point I began to realize that I was going longer and longer between unlockings. While our frequency remained pretty much the same for lovemaking, it seemed like she found one excuse after another to avoid letting me out, so that lovemaking sessions invariably became exercises in frustration for me. Yet I still woke up each morning spooning her, my caged cock pressing against her round ass. Or I'd rub up against her in the kitchen, or pop into the shower with her to feel her naked body against mine. I began to take pleasure in having her rub other areas of my body - my ass, my thighs, my chest. I didn't stop looking forward to my now-infrequent orgasms, but I learned how to become almost satisfied with our long make-out sessions.

My wife, I'm sure, noticed this because she taunted me a little less frequently about not coming, even though we seemed to indulge more frequently in mutual kissing and fondling. She even once remarked that I didn't ask as often to be released from the cage. I had a few moments of confusion over this; was I really becoming more satisfied without coming? Having fewer orgasms didn't sound like such a good thing to me, but at the same time I no longer watched the calendar like I used to. Was there something wrong with me?

Week 26: An unusual turn of events.

For a while I wondered if my not paying attention to the calendar meant that I was losing my sex drive; over the last few months I'd gone from being allowed an orgasm each week, then every other week, and now it was about once a month; even less frequently when she decided that those involuntary emissions counted. Yet each time we crawled into bed together, I certainly felt randy and aroused, even when I knew I wouldn't be unlocked.

One afternoon there was a package in the mail. My wife just smiled when she saw it, but wouldn't tell me what was inside. That night, she told me that she was going to unlock me, but that I had to promise not to come until she allowed it. I readily agreed to be tied to the bed - hell, I would have agreed to be tied to a porcupine if it meant a good orgasm for me - and she carefully fastened my wrists and ankles to the straps at the corners of the bed. She unlocked the cage and carefully worked it off of my cock, stiff with anticipation. She made me squirm as she cleaned it with a warm washcloth, and then went into the bathroom for a few moments. When she returned, she had removed her clothes, and was holding a large towel. She placed the towel over my face and told me to remain quiet. I heard some unfamiliar noises, then what sounded like rummaging in a shopping bag, and the tearing of paper. A soft "pop" and then I gasped as she worked warm lotion over the head of my cock, letting it dribble down the shaft.

Whatever she was rubbing on me had a warm, tingly feeling, almost like menthol but without any scent that I could detect. Soon my cock was sso completely engorged with blood that it was almost painful.

"Doesn't that feel nice?" she asked me.

I nodded, then realizing that she might not be able to see my face under the towel, I moaned a "yes" to encourage her to keep rubbing. Soon I realized that my hips were rising up to meet her firm strokes, and I felt myself making little noises in the back of my throat.

"Such a nice shape," she mused, "I think that you're about as hard as I've ever seen you."

I moaned again in agreement... and then in frustration as she took her hand away. She said nothing, but I heard some fumbling with containers, and a few seconds later I felt a sensation around my cock, almost like warm dough. She pushed and squeezed, shaping something around my cock, all the while whispering encouraging words and fondling my balls.

"Try to keep still for a few minutes, okay?" she asked. For emphasis she wrapped her fingers around my balls and gave a firm squeeze. I felt her fingernails trace a path around my stomach and chest, taking care to pinch and tweak my nipples. I bit down on my lip to keep from twisting and moving. After two or three minutes, she released her hold on my balls and I felt her get up from the bed.

"Umm...," I questioned, but I felt her finger on my lips.

"I'll be right back," she promised, and I heard her footsteps across the room. A few minutes and some bathroom noises later, and suddenly I felt a cold wet rag across my stomach.

Hey!" I yelled, "That's friggin' cold! Whatthehellareyoudoing?!"

I heard her giggle and she removed the cold cloth, only to wrap it around my swollen balls. I started to bounce up and down, but she pressed her hand to my stomach to keep me from jumping. Moments later, my blood-engorged cock was shriveling up, trying to crawl back into the warmth of my body. The weight of whatever she had on my groin was lifted and apparently she took it into the other room, leaving me to writhe and twist in agonizing frustration.

Dammit!

About five minutes later she came back and began to clean me up with a warm cloth. By that time I had lost all traces of my erection, and I felt her squeezing my cock back into the metal chastity cage. I started to twist and bounce, but she crawled up onto the bed and sat on my stomach to keep me still. A minute later I heard the lock click shut. I grumbled a bit, but she managed to quiet me down when she turned around and positioned herself over my face. She pulled off the towel and guided my head between her legs; she was extremely wet, and she came very quickly several times in a row.

"I don't know why you're complaining," she said as she unfastened the bonds," I mean, you did agree not to come until I'd given you permission, right?"

I nodded, seething slightly.

"So, what's the problem? I didn't give permission and you didn't come."

"But what was that stuff you put on me?" I asked.

She shook her head. "It's a surprise. You'll find out soon enough," she replied. "Our anniversary is coming up next month; maybe that would be a good time to let you in on it."

Next month? It had already been a month since I'd last had an orgasm - would it be another month before I'd be allowed my next one?

to be continued…

Not the Usual Anniversary Present - 6

2007-09-03T16:15:00.000-04:00

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

Week 14: I became somewhat resigned to our arrangement.

The rest of the week passed by without comment. She got her nightly back rub, and I was still horny most of the time, and it was well into our third month since my "birthday present", or "our arrangement" as she sometimes called it. Since her day off came at different times in the week, I might go anywhere from five to nine days. Over a month ago she had stopped unlocking me for night sessions, saying that she preferred to have me inside her when she was awake and rested. Her next day off finally arrived, and I was looking forward to some good, long fucking. I was so excited that I figured I’d be able to come twice. She handed me the key and I hopped into the shower. She kissed me and told me not to take too long, as she was going to have a little surprise for me. The soap lather helped to ease the cage off, and I quickly finished shaving, dried off, and stepped back into the bedroom.

My wife was laying there in a black outfit, holding a pair of leather handcuffs. "Come on down," she teased, "I have a little surprise for you."

Although she has talked about handcuffing me during lovemaking, she hasn’t actually done it since we were dating. I lied down on the bed, and she climbed on top of me, kissing me deeply. "You’ve been such a good boy that I thought that I’d give you a little treat." She had me roll over and fastened the cuffs securely behind my back. Rolling me onto my back again, she took my cock into her mouth. "Mmm… big, isn’t it?"

I couldn’t answer, I was too busy enjoying myself. For over three months I had pleasured her in every way imaginable, and my reward was to be kept locked up. Now it looked as if I was going to get some attention for a change. She swung her legs around and settled onto me in a sixty-nine position. I hungrily lapped at her sweet, salty juices, relishing the feel of her soft thighs around my head. She ground her hips down onto my face, almost smothering me, as she came.

"No, don’t stop," she whispered, and pausing only to take a breath I went back to softly flicking my tongue over her swollen lips. This was one of those nine day periods, and she had rubbed it in by having me give her extended massages almost every night, and a few nights she made me follow up by licking her to a nice, slow orgasm. Not surprisingly, I was ready to come almost immediately. Her own tongue was licking the head of my cock, and I fought hard to keep myself under control. I concentrated on making her come before I could, since without the use of my hands, I was unable to push her away.

She was making herself excited by sucking hard on my cock, drawing all the blood to the already swollen head. My cock soon felt as hard as a steel rod. Thankfully, she paused to let out a moan. Her head dropped to rest on my leg, but her hand tightened around my sore balls as she came loudly. I stopped licking directly on her lips, and kissed and caressed her upper thighs with my own lips and tongue. She lay there for a few moments before getting up.

"Very nice," she complimented me, “we never do it that way anymore."

She swung her leg over my hips and teased my cock with her pussy. I was already gasping from holding back my own climax, and didn’t know if I wanted to push it in or wait. Sensing my distress she smiled “Poor honey. You want to come so bad, don’t you?"

Eyes closed in concentration, I could only nod.

"You’re trying so hard to hold back, maybe I shouldn’t let you come at all. Is that what you want?"

My eyes snapped open. "No! No, I want to come, really," I managed to croak out, “ I just want it to last a little longer. It’s been so long, and I want it to feel good."

"Hmm, so it doesn’t feel good other times?" she asked in mock hurt.

"No! Yes! Um, it always feels good… Oooooohhhhhhh…" I moaned as she slowly lowered herself onto my hot shaft.

"Isn’t this good?" she asked again, rocking on my hips. She reached back to squeeze my balls. "Mmm, got something in here for me?"

I could only moan. “Please, please, no, yes, oh please…" I lost all sense as a huge, unstoppable climax began to build. I could feel the pressure in my balls, in my cock, and deep inside my groin. I opened my eyes briefly to look longingly at her, and heard myself moaning. Suddenly what seemed like a gallon of hot come pulsed deep into her pussy as my hips pushed up off of the bed. Finally I collapsed, my cock now spent inside her, the pressure in my balls released. I opened my eyes again. "That was incredible," I told her, "I think my throat is dry from moaning so much."

Still smiling down at me, she said, "I didn’t give you permission to come. You’re so selfish, you couldn’t at least wait until I was satisfied? After all, I had to wait more than a week for this, you know." Using her fingers to hold her swollen pussy lips together, she slowly raised herself off my now-soft cock, and moved up to position herself over my mouth. "I think that you need to eat me until I’ve had enough," she said, holding her dripping pussy over my mouth, "besides, weren’t you just saying that you had a dry throat? I’ll bet that there’s a real lot of juice for you in here."

I don’t remember when it started, but for some weeks now, she had decided that any time that I came in her, that I was to suck out the juices and to clean her with my tongue. She claimed that I was much better than using a towel, and the best part was that she didn’t have to get out of bed. Admittedly, I did get some small pleasure from making her come that way. Unfortunately, she sometimes didn’t care about coming, and merely used me, which made me feel a little humiliated. It was useless to resist with my hands still handcuffed, so I reluctantly opened my mouth and licked her. I almost gagged on the amount of hot, salty come that dripped from her pussy, but didn’t dare stop sucking on her until she had came, shuddering.

"Okay, now it’s my turn to lie down," she said. She pushed me off the bed, told me to kneel at the edge. She then lay back on some pillows and placed her legs over my shoulders, pulling my head into her still-dripping mound. "Mmm, too bad your hands are still tied, or else you could be fucking me, too." I just mumbled in agreement and slowly pleasured her with my mouth and tongue. In no time she came again, and I rested my head on her thigh.

"If you undo these cuffs, I could rub you, or use the dildo on you, or even give you a little massage," I suggested.

This sounded like a good idea to her, and a few minutes later she was stretched out on the bed and I was kissing her deeply, my hand slowly pumping the familiar red dong. I climbed on top of her to give her some body contact, and found myself getting hard again listening to her moans of pleasure. I teased her with the dildo, keeping her right on the edge of coming, and when I could feel myself harden all the way, I slipped between her legs to give her some of the real thing. She responded by arching her hips to meet mine. I angled myself to push at her pubic bone and she grabbed my hips. She was going to have a nice one, I thought, so I pumped her deeply, making sure that she felt the full length of my shaft inside her. Her hips stiffened and I felt her bite my shoulder hard. I continued my pace, and she came twice more before finally settling down to the bed. I kissed her lightly until she caught her breath.

I motioned her to roll over on her stomach, and entered her from behind.

"Ooh, you never do me this way anymore," she murmured.

"When do I have the chance?" I asked her, pushing my hips deeply. Her pussy was still hot, and soon I felt another orgasm building. I pulled her back onto her side, and entered her roughly. She closed her eyes and gripped my hand tightly. I let her come once, and then I increased my own tempo. The feel of my balls dragging on her warm thighs, and her soft ass pressing into my groin was enough to again send me over the edge. Although not as intense as the first one, I came hard, letting out a short yell. I collapsed on top of her, my legs still shaking.

I kissed her back and neck. "Mmm, just like the old days, eh?" I said.

In response she reached for the cock cage on the nightstand and handed it to me. "No, it’s better than the old days," she replied, “wouldn’t you agree?"

I started to protest, saying that she had just gotten some wonderful sex, and that I was happy to have gotten to come twice. She replied that making me wait was what made it seem more wonderful, and besides, I should consider myself lucky that she let me come a second time. "After all, you barely lasted two minutes for the first one. You must have forgotten that you’re supposed to be pleasing me, not the other way around."

And once again she helped to squeeze my cock into the chastity cage, closed the stainless steel ring around my balls and clicked the lock shut.

"Oh, I almost forgot," she mentioned, "I just felt a few drips down my leg. Would you clean me up, please?"

to be continued...

Not the Usual Anniversary Present - 5

2007-08-04T23:52:00.000-04:00

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Week 11: This was a decidedly bad turn of events.

During the rest of the week, she made sure that I did something for her every single night. I was sure it was her way of reminding me that she had to do without, although I kept reminding her that she seemed to get a lot more pleasure out of “doing without" than I did. She kept reminding me that this whole arrangement was my idea to begin with, and the least I could do was to accept my birthday present with a smile. In the meantime, she would have to force herself to have weekly pedicures, back rubs, massages, and a few sessions taking pleasure from my tongue.

Finally, her day off came. I was almost frantic from more than two weeks without coming. We both jumped into the shower, and I gladly washed her back by soaping my hairy chest and rubbing against her back. She was soon ready to get out, but I told her that I needed to stay in a bit longer. I was afraid of coming too fast, and I needed some time to settle down. It was only then that I realized that she had not given me the key before my shower.

The shower helped to ease the soreness in my groin, and I walked to the bedroom. To my surprise, I saw her already in bed, eyes closed and smiling broadly. A glance further down told me she was fucking herself with the dildo. I watched her hand moving it in and out; it was as if she wasn’t even aware that I was staring at her. I felt a twinge of jealousy at the rubber dong, but kept staring as she slowly brought herself to orgasm. She opened her eyes, not surprised to see me there. I climbed into bed and held her. Sensing what I was about to ask, she put her finger over my lips. I rolled on top of her, kissing her hungrily, my hands touching, groping everywhere. I rubbed her pussy with my fingers and felt her slippery and warm. As usual, she pushed my head down to her mound. Handing me the dildo, she leaned back again to have me lick her expertly while I pressed the dildo inside of her. She was very excited, and began to moan loudly. Her hands grabbed my hair and pulled hard, I had to pull back in order to catch my breath. Within moments she tightened her legs around me and squeezed. She came strongly, and almost immediately came again. I kept licking until I could feel her spasms subside. Almost a minute later she sank back into the mattress, seemingly spent.

"What the hell was that all about?" I asked her.

She just shook her head, “ Mmm, I don’t know, I was just feeling horny, I guess." She reached down to feel me. I jumped. “I’ll bet I know what you want," she murmured. “I hope that you’ve learned your lesson about being ready for me when I want you. I don’t want you to disappoint me like that again."

I shook my head, but before I could mention that I was still locked up she pulled me on top of her. “Come on," she said, “I’m really wet. Put it in me. I want to feel it."

Remembering the last time we had done this, I started to pull back. “No," I said, “I don’t want to come like that! I want a good one. Please, unlock me! Please?"

She just chuckled. “I just want to make sure that you learned your lesson. After all, it’s you’re your fault that I had to go without your nice cock last week. You didn’t think you’d get away without some punishment, did you?"

"But it’s not good this way," I complained.

"It’s good for me," she replied, and besides, it’s all you’re going to get this time. Now, do you want to come or don’t you?"

I did of course. I gently pushed myself into her, gasping as her warm pussy closed over the head of my cock that had swelled out of the cage. Now I really was frantic. I wanted to come so badly, since it had been over two weeks. But I wanted to make it last longer, since it would probably be another week before I’d get the chance. But no matter how long it lasted, I couldn’t have a real orgasm while still locked up. The cage kept me from the deep muscle spasms that make it so satisfying.

"What’s the matter," asked my wife, “I thought you would be happy to come after waiting so long." She paused, “but if you want, we could always wait until the next time…"

Groaning with frustration, I pushed as deeply into her as the cage allowed. I barely noticed her stiffening with her own orgasm as mine built so quickly. I moved back and forth a few times and felt a huge contraction start in the root of my cock. As I heard her come, my own spasms started and I suddenly felt my seed just trickling out. No wave of pleasure, no firm contraction from my groin, just a few small spurts and my come merely spilled out of me. I collapsed on top of her and literally sobbed in frustration.

"Didn’t last very long that time, did you?" she asked. She held me for a moment and said, “So, maybe I shouldn’t have let you come if you weren’t going to enjoy it. On the other hand, now you’ll remember how our arrangement works. Am I right?"

I nodded, too frustrated to argue. Feeling used, I allowed her to push my head down to her pussy so she could be satisfied.

"Remember," she reminded me again, “you should always be ready to give me some when I want it." Soon, she lay back in the bed, enjoying her orgasms, and ignoring me.

to be continued...

Not the Usual Anniversary Present - 4

2007-07-15T15:47:00.000-04:00

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Week 7:
There soon developed a routine.

Over the next few weeks, life was pretty uneventful – for me, anyway. About two or three times a week my wife would get a nice massage or foot rub or back rub at bedtime, and would roll over to sleep, leaving me frustrated with desire. About once or twice during the week she would have me lick her or rub her, which left me even more frustrated. Sometimes she would awaken early and have me rub her, my fingers massaging her wet pussy, giving her a nice little orgasm. She would give a quick stroke to my cock, swollen and purple inside my cage. Then she’d go back to sleep for an hour while I got ready for work. Other times she would take a quick shower right before bed, my signal that I would be expected to lick her until she was ready to go to sleep. This could take five minutes, or an hour. Once she straddled my face, grinding her pussy onto my mouth so hard that I almost couldn’t breath. The whole time that I ate her, she squeezed my balls, already sore and swollen. She tried to tease the tip of my cock with her tongue, but the bars on the cage were too close together. These sessions always ended with her going to sleep, and me lying wide awake for another hour with an ache deep in my groin.

During the course of the week, I’d find myself hugging her, brushing up against her, fondling her, copping a quick feel – anything to arouse her enough to let me out. Ironically, I couldn’t get enough of feeling her, but the more I felt, the crazier it made me. My wife knew this, of course, and although the amount of sexual contact we had never increased, the amount of sexual tension certainly did. Wanting her was constantly on my mind. Sometimes she would take off her shirt in the night, and I would awake lying next to her smooth skin. It seemed like everything she did was meant to make me want her all the more.

Week 9:
It didn’t take long before the arrangement started to seem normal.

After the first few weeks, I noticed that despite how it seemed, we really didn’t have any more or less sex than usual. Well, I certainly didn’t have any more, but without the luxury of taking matters into my own hands, so to speak, the week-long period seemed ten times as long. She, on the other hand, never seemed to want me enough to unlock me more than once a week or so. Of course, at first, she had me making her come a few times a week, so she was just fine with the arrangement. As the weeks went on, though, my enforced chastity seemed to lose the novelty. Not enough for her to unlock me and end the game, but enough so that she sometimes didn’t even want me to make her come all week. I gently suggested that she remove my cage so that we could take a break for a few weeks, but she told me that she’d then have to worry about me touching myself all the time, and besides, she liked for me to always a little on edge for her.

I noticed that the whenever I was re-locked after coming, I would be very excited for the first day or two. Then I would slowly settle down and spend the next few days perversely enjoying the sexual tension. If confined more than a week, though, I became too horny to enjoy it, and could only think about my next release. Unfortunately, this didn’t seem to matter to my wife. She put off my attentions by reminding me that the chastity cage was my idea in the first place, and that it wasn’t her fault if she ended up getting more benefit from it than I did. I tried to reason with her by suggesting that more frequent “time off" for me would be better for her, since I wouldn’t be so crazed with desire and would be able to last a lot longer for her. After a few weeks, though, she just shrugged and told me that she was able to “make do", and that I should stop pestering her.

One week I wasn’t able to stay home on her day off. We were both disappointed, but she didn’t make a big deal of it. I, on the other hand, was frantic. That night in bed, she kissed me, and pushed my head down to her pussy. “Lick me," she commanded, “I’ve been waiting all day for this." She crossed her legs over my shoulders and stretched back. I held her hips as I flicked my tongue lightly over her lips and clitoris. She lifted her hips a bit as she came, and I slowed my licking, so she could catch her breath.

"Mmm, are you ready to fuck me, now?" she asked breathily.

"Of course I am, I’ve been waiting all day for this, too, you know." I rolled over to allow her to unlock me. “Where’s the key?"

"Oh no, you had your chance this morning," she admonished, “You’ll just have to fuck me with the dildo and eat me at the same time. You know, the way I like it now."

"But… but…" I stammered, “It wasn’t my fault about work!"

She shrugged and reached for dong in the dresser drawer. Acting as if she hadn’t heard me, she simply handed it to me and pushed my head toward her mound. “You’re supposed to be ready whenever I want some," she explained, “that’s supposed to be one of the fringe benefits of our arrangement, isn’t it?"

I just moaned in frustration, and went back to licking her lightly.

"Don’t worry," she said, “I’ll give you some later."

"Oh? Later tonight?" I asked hopefully. By this time I was teasing her with the head of the dildo.

She stiffened, “Uh unh, not tonight," she replied in a distracted voice, “I meant later, on my next day off."

Only her legs around my shoulders kept me from jumping up. “What?! But that’s next week! That’s not fair!"

Seemingly taking no notice, she reached down to guide my head again to her mound. “I know, it’s not fair that I should have to wait to get your cock inside me, but I’ll have to make do." she stiffened under my tongue, and I resumed fucking her with the dildo. "Oooh, fuck me nice, like that…. Mmmmm," she moaned. She was obviously beyond understanding, so I ate her that way until she came a few more times. Pushing my head away, she settled back with a sigh. “Hurry, clean up and come hold me, I’m sleepy now." Completely oblivious to my aching, swollen cock, she soon fell asleep in my arms. I, however, spent the night silently moaning in frustration.

The next morning, I again complained that it had been a week for me, and that it was unfair to make me wait until the next day off, especially when she had gotten off the night before. She countered with saying that it was unfair to her, as well, since she still enjoyed my nice cock, but being tired at night, it didn’t seem worth it to go through the trouble of unlocking me, moving into all those different positions, cleaning up afterward, and then locking me up again. In fact, she continued, since it was my fault that she had to do without, it was only fair that I had to do without. Besides, her next day off would be here before I knew it.

to be continued...

2007-06-13T22:26:00.001-04:00

Not the Usual Anniversary Present - 3

2007-06-13T22:18:00.000-04:00

Week 5
I almost forget that I am wearing it – sometimes.

I swear that she started going out of her way to touch me, tease me in a vary casual ways; although she didn’t ask me to “take care of her" as often. The first week we had sex almost every day. The second week it was more like every other day, but the warm weather allowed her to sleep in just a light nightgown, and the feel of her skin so close to me was a nightly reminder of what I couldn’t have. I was every bit as excited, and my cock still woke me up in the morning.

Finally, after more than a week since the last time, she surprised me by simply handing me the key as I was getting into my nightly shower. You’d think I would have rushed through the shower, but instead I took my time, trying to stop the trembling. When I slid into bed, she was completely nude. She didn’t want me to waste any time, though. Quickly she pushed me onto my back and engulfed my already stiff cock with her warm mouth. The shock nearly made me jump off the bed. Less than a minute later I was begging her to stop because I was so close to coming. Sensing an opportunity, she rolled onto her back and pulled me on top of her. We kissed, our bodies touching, but I was careful to keep my hips from rubbing her too much so as not to get over stimulated. When I thought I had settled down, I pushed my cock head toward her pussy. It was already wet, and I slid in easily. She bit her lip and pulled me closer. My cock was swollen from over two straight weeks in the cage, and she seemed so tight that I knew I would not last long. I tried to fuck her slowly, pacing myself, but my overly swollen cock made her come several times in a row. Each time she came I had to force myself to hold back.

Then she wanted to ride me. Normally I love that position, but I was afraid that I would come too quickly. I wanted to make it good for her, but since I had to wait so long, I wanted as much time as possible to enjoy it myself. She wouldn’t wait, though, so I lay back and she quickly slid onto my shaft. I could tell that she was really enjoying the feeling of my cock swollen more than normal, and she came quickly. I watched her close her eyes and bite her lower lip as I held her hips to mine, forcing my cock in a little deeper; her muscles gripped me lightly, and she sighed in relief. Watching her on top of me was so exciting that moments after she came, I realized that I could not hold back the incredible pressure building up in my loins. I bucked my hips higher as I passed the point of no return, at once frustrated at my own loss of control and yet grateful for the release. I barely stifled a loud moan, turning it into a low, throaty growl just before I collapsed back onto the bed.

She was a bit upset about that, almost disappointed. “You’re supposed to wait until I tell you," she hissed at me “I wasn’t done yet."

I apologized, “But it just felt so good, and I was so horny, waiting all that time…"

She just grunted and rolled over, muttering, “You couldn’t do that one little thing for me. Well, see if I’m nice to you anytime soon."

She couldn’t have been too frustrated, because she was sleeping in a few minutes. My own desire somewhat abated, I spooned up against her back and held her closely.

I woke up early with a rock-hard erection. It was the first time in weeks that I had been able to have full-blown morning erection, and I was anxious not to waste the opportunity. I realized that she had forgotten to cage me before we went to sleep, so I fondled her, enjoying her warmth as much as I enjoyed the feeling of an unfettered hardness. Soon I had her legs parted, and I was again entering her, more gently now. She was just barely awake, but certainly awake enough to enjoy a nice slow fucking. Soon her hands tightened around my waist, pulling me closer. I listened to her soft moans, her eyes closed in sleepy pleasure. She came softly and I continued to pump into her. Quickly she came again, and I gave her a moment to catch her breath.

I saw that she was more awake, so I asked her if she wanted to roll onto her side. She just nodded and threw her legs over to allow me to enter her. This is one of her favorite positions, and I wasted no time in giving her something she really enjoyed. Pushing hard against her hips, I could hear her groaning, no, grunting with pleasure. I wasn't as wild as last night, just firm, constant thrusting, pressing up hard against her hips. She gripped my hand, eyes closed as she came several more times. At last she drew a deep breath and I slowly pulled out.

She now pushed me onto my back and straddled my hips. This is my favorite position, but since I had already come last night, I knew I'd be able to hold out for a while. She again closed her eyes as she rode my cock. She must have been fully awake by this point, because she barely noticed me; she just put her hands on my shoulders and thrust her hips toward mine. Again and again she pushed and rocked, scratching my chest with her nails. She pushed down on me, as I raised my hips to deepen my thrusting. She came hard, and moments later I felt my own cock pulsing and spurting inside her. She collapsed on my chest, and I hugged her for a moment, kissing her neck. Slowly she sat up. My cock was slowly softening, and I pulsed it inside her.

She reached behind her and grabbed hold of my swollen balls. "You're very naughty," she said, suppressing a smile, “I didn’t give you permission for that."

"What, for giving you some nice hard cock?" I asked, “Besides, you sure enjoyed it." I nuzzled her shoulders.

"No, that was nice," she replied, “I meant I didn’t give you permission to come. Good thing I’m about to take a shower, so your punishment won’t be too bad – this time."

"Punishment? But I thought it was good for you?"

"It should have been good, especially after last night. Next time though, you better not come until I give you permission – or else."

She gave a threatening squeeze, and dismounted to take a shower. Noticing the cage on the bedside, she handed it to me. "Looks like I forgot about something last night," she smiled, “I’ll have to remember about that in the future."

She watched me squeeze my cock into the metal cage and close the stainless steel ring around my balls. I installed the lock, but she clicked it shut herself, something that she rarely does. “Just wanted to make sure," she said, giving me a little kiss as she tugged the lock. Then she was off to the shower, and I got dressed and went off to work.

to be continued...

Not the Usual Anniversary Present - 2

2007-05-29T13:18:00.000-04:00

Week 3
So far, I think I can live with this.

The next time was about a week later. It was her day off, so I arranged to go in late. Instead of handing me the key, she had me warm her up by licking and rubbing her until she had come a few times. Naturally my cock was so swollen that it was pressing through the cage, making it impossible to be removed. I had to put a cold washcloth over it to make the swelling go down enough. She undid the lock and helped me take it off, eager to feel me inside of her.

The cage that I wear is a modified version of the ones that you can buy at “adult toy" stores, but since I own a machine shop, it’s more secure than the plastic models on the market. It has a hinged stainless steel ring that encircles my cock and balls. It stretches my balls out from my body a little, so I’m always just a tiny bit aware that it’s on. I expect that after a while my skin will stretch enough to be just a bit more comfortable, but it hasn’t happened yet. The cage itself is held on by two thin plastic-coated stainless steel bands fastened to the cock ring. When soft, the end of my cock just about reaches the end of the cage, and just about fills the sides. That means that as soon as I get excited, my cock swells to the point where I’m exceedingly uncomfortable. Naturally, it can’t extend any further, so the skin bulges out from the metal. It stops just short of being painful. The problem is that when I’m aroused, the feeling of constriction itself becomes even more arousing, and I’m trapped in a vicious cycle. You’d think that since I had designed and built it myself that I’d have been more aware of the comfort factor, but wearing something for a few hours is nothing like wearing it for a few weeks.

Another one of the benefits for my wife is that once I take off the cage, my cock is swollen wider than normal. I suspect that this is part of the reason that she likes me so confined. I teased my head into her, just the tip at first. I love to hear her gasp as my head slides in and rubs that spot under her pubic bone. In, then slowly out, and in less than a minute she was coming. Even though I was excited myself, I managed to give her some slow, deep strokes. I like to pull out just about all the way, and then plunge back in, my head dragging her lips. She gets very wet, and I like to fuck her this way until she’s come quite a few times. This time was no exception, and after she had come four or five times, I pressed my hips tightly against her and hugged her body close to mine. My head was still swollen, and when I angled my hips up, she responded by scratching my back with her nails. Gradually I sped up my tempo, and in another minute she was biting my shoulder, and I heard her moan lightly as she came.

Seeing that she was still excited, I turned her on her side. She loves to have me fill her this way, and she was so wet that I slipped right in. I pushed my hips up to hers so hard that her eyes popped open in surprise.

Too hard?" I asked, “Want me to stop?"

She shook her head, barely able to speak. “Just, umm… a little… ooohhhh," she moaned.

I love to watch her in the daylight, so I continued to fuck her this way for a few more minutes. My balls were swollen and sore, and as they dragged on her thigh I became more stimulated. I again pushed deeply. “Oh, honey, I want to come this way. Can I come yet?" I asked her feverishly.

She nodded, “Come for me." and pushed her hips back to meet mine.

I closed my eyes for a moment and gripped her side and her thigh. I thrust deeply into her, feeling my sore balls rubbing her thigh. Moments later, I felt my hot come gushing out, so much that it squished out of her before I had even finished. Wave after wave of pleasure propelled my hips forward until my cock was sore from pulsing. Weakly I leaned over her to kiss her neck, and then without pulling out, settled down to snuggle, spoon-style.

"That sounded nice," she said, her arm lazily caressing my leg.

"Mmmm," I moaned, “that’s because I finally got to stretch my love muscle." I hugged her tightly, enjoying her warm back against my chest and warm ass against my groin. “When I’m locked up, I can’t stretch, so all those spasms get backed up, you know." I kissed her neck. “Of course, I don’t understand why you wouldn’t want me to do this more often."

She playfully pushed me away, “Because then it wouldn’t feel so special to you. I’m just trying to give you what you asked for." She turned to face me, and gave me a long, deep kiss. “And doesn’t it feel good when we finally get to have sex?" I couldn’t argue with her, so we lay there for a few more minutes until I had to leave for work. She watched me squeeze myself back into the chastity cage and lock it up. I got dressed, and remembered the morning for the rest of the week.

... to be continued

Not the Usual Anniversary Present - 1

2007-05-22T17:58:00.001-04:00

Week 1
They tell you to be careful in what you wish for.

As usual, I awoke with an erection. Or, more correctly, my attempt at an erection woke me; the feeling of my cock trying to grow, to stretch and swell was hampered by its confinement in a steel cage which was firmly anchored to my swollen balls by a hinged stainless steel ring, and secured with a small brass padlock which was, of course, securely locked. The constant straining against the cage had woken me, as it had woken me every morning since my wife had requested that I wear it.

It started off innocuously enough. We had been experimenting with a male chastity device, a kind of cage for my cock to heighten the teasing and denial games that we had been playing. We typically played for a few hours to a few days over a long weekend, and it usually ended in one of us removing the cage and indulging in some great sex.

One night, a week or so before my birthday, she mentioned that a neat present would be to have her lock me up for more than a few days, perhaps a week, just to heighten the arousal. I thought that she would blow it off, like she had several times in the past, but the next night found her straddling my hips, bringing me to the edge of coming, and dangling the cage in front of me. In an apparent change of attitude about the subject, she told me that once I came I would have to put on "the cage" until she felt like letting me out – no argument. When I agreed - and I was so horny that I would have agreed to anything – she then told me to beg her to lock me up ("So you won't complain, since it will be your own choice," she explained). The thought of her keeping me locked up, but continuing to tease me for a few days was pretty hot - so hot, in fact, that as I was "begging," I came harder that I'd thought possible. She gave me a few moments to bask in the afterglow, and demanded that I lock myself up again. Sometimes she teased me about the cage just to see how aroused I would get, but this time she was serious. So I put it on and she locked it. I figured that a few days of erotic torture leading up to my birthday would be fun. A week would be the longest time we'd ever gone, and I actually looked forward to the buildup of excitement.

The next morning my erection straining at the cage woke me up, and I teased myself a bit by caressing her as she slept. She woke slowly, and snaked her hand down to my cock. Sighing and moaning a bit, she moved my hand to the warm area between her legs. Obligingly, I stroked her, surprised at how quickly she became wet. Barely a few minutes later she moaned and arched her hips, and I slowed my stroking to allow her to come down. She smiled, and opened her eyes for the first time. She reached up to give me a good-morning kiss, and her hand again slid down to fondle my caged cock. I whimpered as she shook and stroked the few bits of flesh that bulged through the bars and firmly squeezed my balls.

She whispered “Do you have your key? Get it for me, please."

Not needing to be told twice, I hopped out of bed and riffled through my pants for my keyring. I removed the little silver key from the ring and sliding back into bed, handed it to her. She placed it firmly on her nightstand, and turned to see the look of amazement on my face. "What, did you think that I was going to unlock you so soon?"

I nodded, unable to speak.

She took my face in her hands and said "I want to make sure that you have a wonderful birthday present. I mean, you suggested it, right?"

"Er, no. You suggested it."

"Whatever. The point is that it’s your present and you agreed, right?"

I nodded again, feeling devastated.

"Good," she said, laying back down, "Now, how about making some coffee while I snooze for a few more minutes."

That was a week before my birthday. I remember that morning well.

The time ever since then has been incredible - for her. For the next few days she was pampered with massages and pedicures, and of course, with lots of attention from my fingers and tongue. I rubbed her body with cream after her shower, massaged her feet and painted her toenails. I still remember the first night when she rolled over to go to sleep, completely ignoring the state that I was in. It didn't take long before I was crazy with desire for her, and I tried to convince her to unlock me so that I could come. I even told her that she could lock me back up again after I was done. She anticipated that, however, and told me that she "accidentally" left the keys at work to avoid giving in to temptation. I continued to service her with my tongue each night and with my fingers in the morning, feeling my cock painfully straining against the cage. She had all the benefits, except that of feeling my warm cock inside her. She didn't complain, though, and managed to suffer through it by having me fuck her with a realistic silicone dildo while I licked and sucked on her pussy. One night, I wore her strap-on dildo and despite the maddening feeling of not being able to come, I gave her a nice long fucking that ended with a shuddering orgasm for her - and an incredibly frustrated sleepless night for me.

Finally my birthday arrived. She continued to tease me all evening, and by bedtime, I was a wreck. Then she did something that really blew my mind. The flesh of my cock was literally swollen out of the bars of the cage after an evening of pleasuring her. Crazy with desire, I lay on top of her, kissing and caressing her when my caged cock brushed her still wet pussy. Thrusting and twisting, I managed to push it a short way into her. The feeling was incredible; she had never seemed so tight or hot. Yet even as I carefully thrust into her, she began to moan and squirm. Unbelievably, she was coming. Here I was, frustrated and caged, my the skin of my cock bulging like a sausage through the bars of the cage; and she was coming! The thought was too much for me, and right after she came, I could feel the incredible pressure building up inside me as well. Unable to hold back, I desperately tried to come, but the cage left me unable to flex my shaft. Disappointingly, I had no satisfying spasms, just a few meager dribbles and suddenly, before it had even begun, it was over. It was worse than nothing; I was more frustrated than ever. My wife, perversely enjoying my lack of release, pushed my head down between her legs so that I could satisfy her. As usual, when she was finished she rolled over to go to sleep, again leaving me caged and horny.

The next morning after my birthday I awoke horny, frustrated, sore, and still caged. My wife didn't seem very eager to unlock me, so I asked her to let me out so that we might have a quickie before work. She grew quiet and looked away for a moment. Sensing that something was up, I nudged her. Pushing me onto my back, she gave me a kiss and explained that she had been getting many more benefits from having me locked up than she would have realized. She said that she liked that I was attentive, always ready to please her, and that she never had any mess to clean up afterward. She started to explain that although she missed my cock inside her, she was willing to put up with it for a while. It began to dawn on me that she was enjoying the situation more than I had anticipated. She reminded me that since it was my wish to be caged in the first place, she had no intention to unlock me anytime soon.

Week 2
Sometimes it’s hard to remember that this was supposed to be my present.

Even though I've been taking care of her well - very well - with my mouth and fingers and the dildo, she insists that she misses the feel of my cock inside her. The problem is that the longer I'm caged, the hornier I become. And the hornier I become, the tougher it is for me to last long enough to satisfy her. Since then, I've been let out only about once a week so that she could enjoy the feeling of my cock, swollen from my constant caged erections. Sometimes it's at night just before she goes to sleep, but usually it's on her day off.

The first time that she let me out was wonderful. After being caged up for over a week, I fucked her wildly. Pushing her onto her side, I entered her deeply. It felt so good, I barely noticed how many times she came. Finally she decided that she wanted to ride my cock. She moaned a little as I pulled out, but wasted no time in straddling my hips and lowering herself onto me. I tried to hold back, but watching her come so strongly sent my already overloaded libido over the edge and I came hard - over a week's worth of desire and frustration suddenly released. My throat was sore from moaning, and I could barely move my legs.

"That was the best sex we’ve had in I don’t know when," I told her when I could catch my breath.

She nodded, rubbing a washcloth over my cock. “Obviously to me," she said, “all that saving up just made it so much better." She dangled the cage over my cock and added, “Hurry up and put this on. I want to go to sleep." I started to complain but she stopped me, “Do I have to remind you that this is your birthday present?"

"Um, yeah," I answered, “but I was thinking it was just going to be for a few days, or a week tops."

"Oh, stop complaining," she told me, “it’s only been a few days, like what, nine or ten days? So a few extra days should be a good thing for you, right? Besides, it’s been pretty good for me."

"Sure, that’s because you’ve been getting some sex every other day."

She just smiled. “Uh huh, just how it should be. Besides, it was your idea, wasn’t it?"

I had to admit that I had begged for it. So she snuggled up in my arms and soon we fell asleep, tired but well sated.

... to be continued...

Not the Usual Birthday Present

2007-04-20T13:44:00.000-04:00

It's been a while since I posted a Friday Fantasy, and as I explained earlier, I just haven't had it in me lately to do one. But based on the popularity of the few chastity related posts, I thought that some of you would find this interesting.

I wrote this story some years ago, and posted it on several different web boards. It's been ripped off and re-posted by others - in one case on the same web board. I've made some small edits for grammar and spelling that I'd missed earlier, but the story is the same. And yes, there is a particular Friday Fantasy sub-plot that you will recognize.

For those so inclined, enjoy!

Not the Usual Birthday Present

Wednesday
It was a few days before my birthday when my wife asked me what I wanted. I just leered (as usual), and she just rolled her eyes (as usual). "Is that all you think about?"

"Well, why not?" I answered, "Always the right size, color and fit. I never return it." We have this conversation every year, and every year I get the same thing – nothing that I ask for. This year we were laying in bed. I snuggled up to her and nuzzled her ear.

"Maybe I should give you something different this year. Instead of giving you sex, maybe I could, umm, not give you sex." She leaned back into me.

"Mmph, sure... Hey, what?" I asked.

"Well, I've been thinking..."

"Oh, great," I replied.

"Silly, let me finish. It's been a long time since we played with your chastity cage. I was thinking that maybe instead of you pestering me, I could, um, lock you up for a few days. Then, if I wanted, I could still have a little entertainment."

I thought for a moment. "Well, I get a lot of ‘no sex’ now, so, what's in it for me?" I kissed her neck and squeezed a bit.

She reached her hand down to fondle me. "Just think of how great it will be when I finally let you out," she whispered. "Besides, I thought that you found it exciting to be ‘controlled’ by me."

I had to admit that I was hooked. "Okay, sounds good to me. For my birthday, please don’t give me any sex."

"You got it, baby," she said. "Now, turn out the light, okay?" And settled quickly settled down to sleep, leaving me to stew in my fantasies. Oh well, same as usual.

Thursday
Thursday night, she took a shower before slipping into bed to join me. Taking advantage of the opportunity, I kissed her back, her shoulders, and worked my way around her front. At her urging, I slid on top of her, pressing my warm body against hers. We kissed, and my hard cock soon found her moist mound. Slowly entering her, I felt her stiffen. She stopped kissing me and leaned her head back, eyes closed. She came quickly, and I slowed my thrusts. Pulling out slowly, I slid down her stomach, down her thighs, kissing and nibbling. As I licked and nibbled her, she placed her thighs over my shoulders and pulled my head closer. She came easily. "Another one, don't stop yet", she murmured. A few minutes later she stiffened and settled back. She pulled me back up to her, and again I entered her wet pussy, slowly thrusting in deeply, and pulling back until the tip was just brushing her lips. I teased her for a few minutes until she dug her fingernails into my ass and pulled me closer. Again she came, and finally opened her eyes to look at me. "Mmmm, you're so good to me", she said, satisfied. "Now lay back and rest. I want to ride you."

"Your wish is my command," I smiled.

Quickly we traded places and she lowered herself onto my hard shaft. "Hey, no fair!" I complained. I could see that she was already getting ready to come again. She pressed her hips against mine and rode herself to another orgasm.

"That was nice," she said a few moments later. I held her hips steady, trying to hold back.

"What's the matter, don’t you want to come yet?" she asked.

"No, not yet. I was on the edge, and now I'm just trying to make it last longer." She leaned over to kiss me, wiggling her hips. It seemed like she was trying to make me come.

"What's the matter, don't you want to come yet?" she asked again. Concentrating, I shook my head.

You know," she continued," I was thinking about giving you a nice fucking for your birthday. How does that sound?"

Still trying to hold back, I smiled. "Sounds good to me." I closed my eyes, imagining what it would be like. Monday evening, as usual, we'd both be too tired from work to do anything really interesting. Mentally sighing, I opened my eyes again to look at her body on top of me. Seeing the way she was looking at me made me imagine something very different: I had an image of her dressed in a leather corset, brandishing a whip, forcing me to... Dammit, I felt myself going over. I held her hips to slow her down a bit. I could feel myself teetering on the edge.

"Still trying to hold back," she asked?

"Just another minute, it feels so nice," I replied.

"Well, I want you to come nicely, because I want you to do something for me afterward," she whispered. I arched my eyebrows, "Mmmmm?"

She leaned forward to reach the nightstand. I heard jingling, and when she sat up, she was holding my cock cage, turning it in her fingers.

"After you come, I want you to put this on," she said, "and then I'm going to keep you locked up for a while." Despite myself, I felt my orgasm building. I've worn it for her before, but she rarely makes it a request. I love it when she gets dominant. I looked up at her, wondering if she was serious.

She smiled, "You'll wear this, and then maybe, just maybe, I'll give you a nice birthday fucking, okay?" I thought quickly: my birthday was Monday, that's, what just a few days? Until Sunday night? Monday latest? That meant all weekend I'd be off limits. On the other hand, if she were suggesting it, then maybe there'd be a chance to play a bit. Maybe I could talk her into letting me out on Saturday.

"Umm, all weekend," I asked?

"If you're lucky. Now c'mon," she whispered again, "come for me. Unless you want me to just stop, and we could cage you now?" I couldn't hold back any longer; moaning loudly I came hard, erupting deeply into her hot pussy.

A few moments later I settled back to the bed. She lay across me, stretching out her legs. "Oooooohh, that was the best one I've had in I don't know how long," I murmured in her ear. Nodding in agreement, she hugged me for a few moments, and then slowly got up to get a towel. She wiped herself off, and then ran the towel over my now-sensitive groin. It tickled, and in reaction, I got up to use the bathroom. I slid into bed, and saw that she was again dangling the cock cage.

"Are you ready?" she asked. Seeing that she was serious, I took it from her, and worked my softening cock into the steel rings and fastened the stainless steel clamp ring around my balls. She handed me the lock, which I placed into the hole in the ring. Pushing my fingers aside, she pressed the hasp and I heard the metallic "click". "There," she said, "now let's get some sleep. I'm tired." Despite the huge orgasm, I felt my cock stirring again. I tried to ignore it, and settled in behind my wife, holding her close. She was soon asleep, and I probably wasn't far behind.

Friday
I awoke before the alarm on Friday morning. My cock was straining against the metal cage, my balls felt heavy. The first few days wearing this are the worst; I'm aware of the confining rings, and they keep me constantly aroused. I knew that the head of my cock was red and filling the cage, my skin bulging out the sides. I curled up behind my wife's back and tried to comfort myself by pressing my crotch into her warm ass. As usual, it only made things worse. After another fifteen minutes or so, I could tell that I wasn't going to get back to sleep, so I moved my hand between her legs and rubbed her mound softly. A few moments later she moaned sleepily and turned over onto her back to I could have easier access. Soon her breathing quickened, and her hand moved over to caress me. She squeezed my balls gently, and I drew in a breath. I saw a faint smile as she teased my bound cock. Soon my hand had brought her to an orgasm. Her hand, which had brought me only frustration, stopped fondling. "You know," I whispered in her ear, "maybe one more for good measure?" Her eyes still closed, she shook her head.

"I'm still sleepy," she said, "I need to rest a bit more. Why don't you get up and stop bothering me." Taking the hint, I kissed her neck and got out of bed to get ready for work.

Work passed uneventfully. Well, that is, it passed because every so often I was reminded of my caged manhood, and wondered how I was going to make it through the weekend. Seems like whenever I forgot it was there, I’d have to bend or move in a way that made me aware - sometimes a bit painfully - that I was caged. Finally it was time to leave, so I rushed home. I noticed myself acting a bit more affectionate, touching and kissing her, pulling her close. Sometimes she just pushes me away, but tonight she made a point to fondle my pants. "How are we doing in there?" she asked, "I've been thinking all day about you."

After dinner, she squeezed my crotch hard while I was doing the dishes. At least a dozen times she pushed her ass up against my crotch to tease me. By bedtime, I was becoming very turned on, and let her know it. I slipped into bed after my shower. I wasn't too surprised when she announced that she was going to take a quick shower herself before bed. A few minutes later, she had joined me, and was pressing her naked body against my own. She reached down to fondle me. "Not hard yet? I guess you must not be interested in me tonight. Maybe I should just go to sleep." I pointed out that I was trying to get hard, but it wasn’t working all the way. Was there anything I could do to please her? In no time, I was kissing my way down her stomach, down to her warm mound.

She used to enjoy my oral ministrations more when we were dating, but she has mentioned that she prefers to have me give her a nice slow, deep fucking more than anything else. Tonight that was impossible, so I did my best to give her a slow, sensuous orgasm with my mouth. I sucked her lips in and teased her clit with my tongue. As usual, she came quickly, enjoying the attention. I gave her a break for a minute, kissing her thighs and stomach, and was about to start kissing her pussy again, when she stopped me. "No, I want you to fuck me now." she whispered.

"Umm, I can’t, I mean, unless you want to, um…"

She cut me off, "No, silly, get the toy out of the drawer." Oh. She probably wanted me to use the new silicone dildo while I ate her. I pulled it out of the drawer and crawled back down between her legs. I worked it into her slowly as I licked her clit and lips, and soon she was rolling her hips again. I could have made her come quickly, but I teased her with the toy, pulling it back and not pushing it in right away.

"Stop that teasing and make me come, or you’ll be sorry," she warned.

"What’s the matter?" I asked, "I’m being teased, why can’t you?"

Eyes closed, she answered "Because, you’re supposed to be giving me as much as I want, that’s why." She kept her eyes closed while I continued to eat and fuck her. Finally she stiffened and grabbed my hair, a sign that she was having a particularly good one. She yanked my head into her, a little harder than usual as I continued to massage her clit with my tongue. Finally she sighed and settled back down to the mattress. I stopped licking and pulled out the dong. It glistened with her juice. She saw me staring at it. "Lick it clean," she ordered. Winking at her, I licked her juice off as if it were an ice cream cone.

I was so swollen that I was actually sore, but she still was in the mood to play.

"You know what we haven’t tried in a while?" she asked me, "The harness for that thing."

"Seriously?" I asked.

She nodded, "Yes, hurry up and put it on." I opened the drawer again and pulled out the tangle of leather and buckles that were the strap-on dildo harness. I quickly slid the dong into the hole and pulled the harness over my hips. I had to make it sit a bit high, since my swollen cock was in the way. A few moments later I was poised between her legs. It’s the strangest feeling to be "fucking," yet not feeling anything.

"Oooh, it’s cold," she said at first. I tried to get a rhythm going, in, out, in, out. The head of my cock, bulging out of the cage kept grazing her ass. "Oh, that’s nice," she exclaimed, "I can feel two cocks. Mmmm." By now I was moaning in frustration, panting, shaking from lack of release. My wife, on the other hand, was panting and shaking from yet another orgasm. As usual, she came quickly, so I slowed my rhythm so that I pulled the head almost all the way out, and then slowly back in. It was difficult, since I couldn’t actually feel what I was doing, but her hips began to meet mine.

"Are you ready to come yet?" she asked me, teasingly. Swearing softly, I continued to move against her, gently slapping my cage against her ass. I saw her bite her lip, and a few moments later she grabbed my ass with her nails and held firmly. She pulled me close to her as she came. I slowed my thrusting. "No, don’t stop," she moaned, "I need a little more."

I resumed my deep, slow thrusts. Without being able to feel her hot lips around my cock, I couldn’t tell if I was almost out or in. Watching and feeling her get so turned on, but without being able to get any feeling from it was frustrating. Knowing that my cock was firmly caged, and that there was no way I was going to come was absolutely maddening. I kept thrusting, hoping insanely that some feeling from the silicone cock would transfer into my own. I almost didn’t notice her own orgasm until she gave a small cry and pushed her hips up hard to meet mine.

Again, she collapsed, never once opening her eyes. "Mmmm, that was nice. Oh God, that was so nice, so nice," she repeated. She smiled slowly as her voice trailed off and opened one eye at me, "maybe I don’t need to unlock you after all…"

"Don’t even say that," I said, "I’m dying. I’m going to explode if I don’t get to come."

"Oh, but it’s so nice. You eat me so well, and now you can fuck me well, and there’s no mess to clean up. I can go right to sleep now." She opened her eyes to smile wickedly at me. Putting a hand on my chest she pushed me away. "Okay, that’s enough. Time to roll over and go to sleep."

"Enough for who? I’m so sore, I really need to come. I’ll never get any sleep like this." Whining and moaning, I pulled the dong out of her and slipped off the harness.

"It’s enough for me," she said. "Maybe you should soak a washcloth in cold water and cover yourself with it. That should cure your swelling."

Sighing, I brought the toys into the bathroom to clean off. I wanted to pee, but I didn’t think that I could get soft enough. Finally, all cleaned up, I went back to bed, only to find her almost asleep. Frustrated beyond belief, I curled up behind her, the feel of her warm ass a comfort and a tease at the same time.

Saturday
I barely slept all night, since my cock was so swollen and sore. I must have had a two dozen erections, or rather, erection attempts. Each attempt was a painful reminder that my orgasms were under her control. Finally, close to morning, I drifted off to a fitful sleep. We had turned off the alarm for the weekend, but I woke early anyway, my usual "morning woody" straining against the steel. My wife, of course, slept just fine. I didn’t want to wake her, but I had hoped that maybe, just maybe I could convince her to let me out for some relief. Although I had only been caged since Thursday night, it seemed like a week had passed. The first few days are the worst, but I had never really worn it for more than a few days. Once, when she was gone for a week, I wore it the entire time, but it was easier since she wasn’t around to tease me. Out of sight, out of mind, I guess.

I rolled over to fondle her. She woke up easily – a little too easily – and almost immediately asked me to go down on her.

"I had such a nice dream," she explained, pushing my head down to her thighs. "You spent all your time eating me, fucking me with the dildo, and never getting to come. I got all the attention."

"Umm, I thought that you liked to fuck me, to make me come," I tried to play on her sympathy, "You can’t tell me that you’d like that all the time."

"Ssshhh, just eat me," she commanded. Now in a bit of pain, I licked and sucked her until she came twice. Caressing her, I moved up to lie on top of her, kissing her neck.

"Umm, are you sure you don’t want a little of my real cock?" I asked her, nuzzling. I could usually talk her into it this way.

"Hmm, you know, maybe I would like to feel you in me. Too bad you can’t, though."

"Sure I could. Just unlock me, and I’ll get out of this cage, and give you some of my nice, swollen cock. Wouldn’t that be nice?"

She kissed me back, "Oh, I’m sure it would be wonderful, but you’d never get that cage off, even if I could unlock it."

"Sure I could," I continued to kiss her, "A little cold water, some cream, and… what do you mean, ‘even if you could unlock it’?" I sat up.

She pulled me back to her, "Oh, didn’t I tell you? I left the key at work. I wanted to avoid the temptation, since I know how persuasive you could be." She smiled as she reached down to squeeze my swollen cock. I just groaned; waiting until Monday night was now inevitable.

Dejected, I got up a few minutes later, fixed some coffee for us, and put on my work clothes to do some yard work. I spent the rest of the day digging, hauling, mowing, and raking. By sundown, the yard certainly had gotten the benefit of my pent-up energy. She didn’t flirt or tease me all day, so my swelling wasn’t so bad. I threw some burgers on the grill, and we had a simple dinner. I hopped into the shower, and she came in to join me. "I’m tired," she told me. "Is it okay if we don’t have sex tonight?" She was teasing me again.

"How could we have sex anyway?" I wondered, frustrated. We soaped each other in the shower, and despite knowing that I couldn’t get out of my cage, I began to get turned on again. She pushed my hand away from her mound, so maybe she really was tired. I had an idea. "Maybe you could just relax while I give you a nice massage," I said.

"That would be lovely," she answered. We finished up the shower, and soon she was reclining on the bed and I was rubbing warm oil into her skin. It wasn’t a sexual massage; it was just a nice, sensuous rub down. Soon her back, legs and ass were as smooth as silk. She rolled over so I could do her front. I started with her shoulders and breasts, and rubbed the moistening cream into her stomach, thighs, and down her legs to her feet.

"My feet are so dry," she complained. I rubbed the remaining oil into them, and got up to get her a towel. Having an idea, I grabbed a bottle of polish remover, some tissues and cotton balls, and a small bottle of red polish.

Still naked, I told her to move to the chair. She sat at the edge, and I put the acetone on a cotton ball, and rubbed it over her toenails. In a few minutes, her old polish was removed. She had said nothing the entire time, but noticing that I was again swollen, she asked, "You don’t have a foot fetish, do you?"

I laughed. "Don’t worry, I’m just having a good time. I just get turned on when I’m 'working' on you. Of course, if you want me to have a foot fetish…"

I looked up at her, and she just rolled her eyes. So I put cotton between her toes and took the emery to her heel and the ball of her foot. When I finished, I rubbed her feet clean with a towel and uncapped the polish. I think she was rather surprised to see me concentrating on not getting the polish all over, and maybe even more surprised that I didn’t. It wasn’t much different from painting small model parts, though, and in a few minutes I had a nice coat of sexy red polish on her toes. I looked up at her.

"So, takes, what, about 10 or 15 minutes to dry before we put on the second coat? I have an idea on how you could pass the time," I grinned wickedly. Gently, I lifted her legs over my shoulders and leaned in to her clean, damp pussy. She scooted forward a bit more on the chair, and I could smell the traces of soap.

"What an excellent idea," I heard her say as her thighs closed around my ears. Before long she was moaning gently and I was again painfully aware that my cock was in a tight metal cage.

"I'm sure that you’re ready for a second coat," I said presently, and again carefully painted her nails. While waiting for this coat to dry, I put away the towels, acetone, and everything else. I sat at her feet, rubbing her calves and thighs. Soon I was able to remove the cotton balls from her toes. She quickly slipped between the sheets, and I quickly joined her. I lay on my back, and she curled up next to me, throwing her leg over my thigh. She kissed my ear and thanked me for her massage and pedicure.

"I’ve always wanted to do that for you," I told her.

"You're weird," she said, letting her hand idly caress and stroke my cage. I jumped and moaned a few times, both in pleasure and frustration. Soon she put her arm around my shoulder, and threw her leg across my waist and settled into sleep. I just watched television until the swelling went down. Again, I slept fitfully, but a little better than the night before. At least, my erections only woke me up a few times.

Sunday
Once again, I woke up before the alarm, or at least, the time when the alarm would have sounded. I was beginning to think that wearing the cage to bed every night might have some redeeming value – it would keep me awake in the morning, and without the hint of getting unlocked,then I’d have no excuse to laze around in bed. Knowing that whispering in her ear and rubbing her weren’t going to get me unlocked, and not wanting to get horned up by satisfying her urges, I got up to make some coffee. I slipped on my pants and went out for the newspaper. I grabbed a cup and sat out on the deck, enjoying the cool morning breeze. Before long, my wife came out to join me. Seeing her toes, I started to get hard again, but tried not to let her know.

I resumed my yard work as she went off on her morning jog. Taking a break after an hour or so, I went inside to check my email. On impulse, I did a quick web search for "male chastity". There were a lot of devices out there, and quite a few sites discussing them, but most seemed to be more about torturing than about teasing. I was hoping to find something a little more comfortable than the home-built cage that I was wearing, but it didn’t look like there was much else out there. The adult product company where we bought some of our toys had a new item, a plastic cage that was supposed to be escape proof and undetectable at the airport security. Checking its web site, I saw some interesting pictures, but it seemed too bulky for wearing under normal jeans. Besides, the stainless steel cage that I was wearing was fairly comfortable, and certainly more escape proof. Sighing, I went back outside to work.

The rest of the day was pretty uneventful. Yard work, cleaning, grocery shopping, dinner, and then a much needed shower. I was finally at the point where I didn’t notice my cage much, so although I was swollen, I wasn’t sore. She was already showering, so I hopped in to join her. As we soaped each other up, I began to get turned on again. As she soaped my back, she pressed her breasts against me and reached her hand around to my front. Damn, I was getting hard.

"Hey, it’s Sunday night," she said, "isn’t this when you’re supposed to get your birthday fucking?"

Remembering the key that she claimed to have left at the office, I shook my head.

"Don’t see how that’s possible," I answered.

She sat on the shower seat. "Here, if you can make me come, maybe, just maybe I’ll have a surprise for you." Hoping that she was just joking about not having the key, I knelt down, letting the warm water cascade over my back. I licked her roughly, excited. She stopped me.

"No, it’s not working. Use your hand on me instead." Standing up, she leaned against me as I stroked and massaged her mound with my fingers. After a few minutes, she stiffened slightly, then relaxed and let out a sigh. "Thank you," she said.

"Do I get a surprise?" I asked eagerly.

"I promised you a birthday fucking, didn’t I?" she asked. Since she was done in the shower, she kissed me and left me to finish cleaning up.

"I'll be waiting for you in bed," she called out as she left. Damn it, my cock was getting hard, and when it’s swollen, it’s practically impossible to get the cage off of it. Too late, I would just have to calm down and hope that by the time I got into bed it would soften.

Fat chance. When I got out of the bathroom, I could see the room was lit with a few candles and that she was lying in bed, a sheet up to her chest and she wearing a shiny black teddy. I slipped into the sheets and reached for her, but she slapped my hand away.

"No touching. Lie on your stomach and put your hands behind your back. Excited, I did so. I felt her putting the leather handcuffs on my wrists. Problem was, I was harder than ever, and so I would never get the cage off in my condition. How would I get my "fucking", I wondered? When she finished, I started to turn over, but she pushed me back. I heard her doing something, and I felt her lean over me. Putting her mouth up to my ear, she whispered, "I thought I would give you a nice surprise tonight, since you’ve been such a good boy."

She then tied a scarf around my eyes. I heard sounds in the bedroom, but couldn’t identify them. I waited a few minutes, and then asked "Umm, not to sound unappreciative, but I thought we were going to, um, you know…"

"Hey, if you want me to stop…" she said.

"No, no no no," I said quickly "I just thought that you were going to unlock me."

She massaged my back, thighs and ass with her fingers. "I don’t know what gave you that idea," she said mischievously.

"You did! You said I was going to get laid!" Now I was confused.

"I never said that," she answered, "I said that you were going to get a nice birthday fucking." And with that, she suddenly probed my ass with her finger.

Oh! "Um, oh, I, uh…" I stammered, "Hey, that’s not fair!"

"Sure it is," she replied. She squirted some lube on a small probe and wiggled it into my ass. I resisted a bit at first, but soon I was moaning and thrusting my hips to the penetration. After a few minutes, she switched to a larger one, and I continued to moan and move my hips. I knew that my cock was now swollen out of control, but I could barely feel it in the cage.

"Oh, you like that?" she asked.

I could only stammer and pant.

"I thought so." She stopped moving the probe, leaving me to writhe on the bed. I heard her doing something that I didn’t recognize, and then she squirted more KY on my ass and guided me to turn over onto my back. I adjusted my arms so that the cuffs wouldn’t dig into my back and tried to relax.

"Are you ready for your birthday fucking?" she asked. I nodded, thinking that she would never get the cage off.
"Surprise!" she exclaimed, removing the blindfold.

I looked at her kneeling on the bed between my legs. She was wearing the harness with a red dong thrusting out from her hips. As I watched, she unwrapped a condom over the dong and leaned toward me.

"Um…, " I began.

She placed a finger on my lips. "Just relax," she said, "and I’m sure you’ll enjoy this. I’m going to give you a nice fucking."

I was riveted by the sight of her with her harness, looking like she wouldn't take "no" for an answer. My cock tried to escape the metal cage, but it only succeeded in making me sore. She put some more lube on the end of the dong and pushed it up against my ass. It hurt a little as she pressed, and I felt the head move into me a bit.

"No, wait, easy," I pleaded. She backed off for a moment and then pushed again. I could feel it stretching me.

"Easy, it's still hurting," I said. I closed my eyes to try to relax, and she moved in, then out, then in a little more forcefully.

"Ow, ow, ow, …oh… oooooohhhhh," I sighed as I felt the head slide past my sphincter muscles. I opened my eyes to look at her. She was smiling sexily. "That feels so, so… unh, " I gasped as she pulled back. Slowly she pulled her hips back until the tip was almost out, and then leaning toward me, she pushed in, a little farther each time. Soon she was thrusting the entire dildo into me, and because it was rubbing along my prostate, I began to feel like I was about to come. The feeling was incredible, and I soon lost the ability to speak coherently.

"Oh, yes, unh that… feels… oh, yes, it's... mmm…", I stammered. She soon had me panting and shaking. I moved my own hips up to meet hers. The entire time she just studied me carefully.

"Does this hurt?", she would ask occasionally. I could only shake my head 'no', since I seemed to be continuously on the edge of coming. But that was the problem, I was on the edge, but no farther.

"Oh, I want to come, please let me come, please, I need to come," I moaned wildly. But she just kept thrusting with the same rhythm, back and forth, in and out. She leaned in closer to me, changing the angle of the dildo.

"What's' the matter, can't you come?" she asked, teasingly. "Go ahead, you know you want to."

I shook my head again.

"What, you don't want to come? Want me to stop?"

I shook my head and mustered up what little concentration I could. "I…wanna come…. can't... feels too, um… uunhh…". My voice trailed off as I tried to focus on making myself come, but for some reason the rubbing made me crazy with desire that stopped just short of release. That damn cage, not letting me get all the way hard, not letting me come. Everything felt so intense, so good, so… unh.

After what seemed like hours, she finally slowed her thrusts.

"Damn it, no, no, don't stop... I want to come, I can’t come, oh damn it…" I stammered like a crazed person. Finally she eased herself out of me.

"Well, looks like tonight isn't the night. No coming for you, I guess." I continued to lay there on the bed, almost sobbing in frustration. I was so close, so close to coming. My cock was sore, my balls were sore, all my muscles were sore from being so close. I barely noticed when she came back to bed from cleaning up. She unhooked my handcuffs and I rolled over.

"So, how was that?, she asked, smiling wickedly.

"Incredible. Frustrating. Oh God, I just want to come." I said, my voice shaking. Soon I fell asleep, still trembling with frustration.

Monday
No surprise, my morning attempt at an erection woke me up before the alarm. I was surprised to see that I had slept all night, so either I didn't have any erections during the night, or more likely, I just didn't feel them after being exhausted from my "birthday fucking". I was lying on my back and my wife's arm was draped over my chest, and her leg over mine. My ass still felt a bit sore, and my muscles felt a bit weak, so I laid there for a few more minutes before stirring. I tried to get out of bed without waking her, but she looked up. I crawled back in to snuggle with her for a minute. "Happy Birthday," she said, giving me a little kiss.

"Thanks, darling," I said holding her, "I'm getting up early. You can rest for a while." She drifted off again, and I got up, legs unsteady. I made coffee, got dressed, and woke her up before going to work.

"Don't work too late tonight," she called after me. No need to worry about that, I thought, I’ll be lucky just to make it until lunch.

I felt myself moving slowly at work, both physically and mentally. In some way, though, it was a good thing to be someplace where I wouldn't need to worry about being teased and frustrated. Eventually, though, I had to go home. She was in the kitchen when I walked in.

"Hi honey," she smiled, "How was your day?" She reached down to feel my crotch, squeezing firmly. "How's my 'property'?"

I hugged her back. "Still there. Where's it gonna go?" I asked. "Which reminds me. You did remember the key at work, right?"

She stared at me blankly for a moment. "Oh, the key. Yeah, I remembered it. Why?" she teased.

"Well, um, it's Monday, and it's my birthday, so, um, you know. Isn't it time yet?"

She looked wounded. "Oh, why, are you ready to come for me finally? You didn't come for me last night, so I figured that you just weren't interested anymore. Don't want to force you, you know."

"Yeah, right. Somehow I managed to get through the day. So, are you going to unlock me now, or do I have to wait until bed?" I knew what she would say.

"Oh, I can't unlock you now, we're just about to sit down for dinner. You'll just have to wait."

The evening passed, and she teased me mercilessly until it was time for bed. I figured that she was playing it up for all it was worth. I took a shower and hopped into bed. My wife came in some time later, I figured she was just trying to prolong my suffering. She took a quick shower and joined me, naked and still damp. Snuggling up close, she guided my hand down to her mound, her hair still wet from the shower. We kissed for a few more minutes, and soon she came softly. "Please fuck me," she asked.

"Um, I'm still locked up, you know," I smiled at her.

She didn't smile back.

"Of course you are; it's still your birthday, so you're still locked up. That was your wish wasn't it?"

"Um, no. I think it was really your wish," I responded, trying to keep the sarcasm out of my voice.

"Mine, yours, whatever. Now, eat me. Here, take this." She handed me the silicone dildo and pushed my head toward her thighs. Sighing, I once again sucked on her lips while I massaged her clit with my tongue. After she came, I continued to lick her gently.

"Honey, fuck me. I want to feel it inside me," she whispered. With one hand I pushed the head inside her wet pussy and teased her for a minute. She grabbed my arm and helped to guide it in, clearly not in the mood for play. I licked her as I moved the dong in and out. She moaned quietly, for some reason she seemed to be enjoying this more than usual. I, on the other hand, was practically beside myself with horniness. Finally she grabbed my head with her hands and held it to her bush. I licked firmly, all the while fucking her with the dildo. She came hard, pushing her hips into my face, and then settling back to the bed with a sigh.

I eased the dong out of her, and crawled up to lie on top of her. I kissed her, rubbing my body against her. God, she felt so good. "Are you going to unlock me yet? Please, please, I'm so horny," I pleaded.

She shook her head. "It's still your birthday, and you're getting the present you asked for," she smiled mischievously. I moaned, and started to roll off, but she stopped me, holding my ass with her hands. She raised her legs around me, and guided the tip of my caged cock toward her wet pussy. I was so crazed that I tried to thrust into her, but that seemed to be what she wanted. We kissed, and my cage got ever closer to moving inside her. She pulled my hips closer. She wants me inside her, I thought. Carefully I eased it into her. She gasped a little, and pushed her hips up to meet mine.

"Careful," she warned, "don't push all the way." I pushed in and out, only the tip. She stopped kissing me and closed her eyes. Jesus, she was coming. I swore at her, angry that she could come so easily while I was so frustrated. I pushed in a little deeper. Despite the cage, my cock was swollen so much that I could easily feel her moist, hot pussy surrounding the little bits of flesh that had swollen through the bars of the cage. I continued this way, thrusting gently so the cage wouldn't hurt her. When I realized that she was coming again, I felt my own orgasm begin to build. Quickly it bubbled up to the surface.

"Honey," I gasped, surprised, "I think I'm coming. Oh God, I'm coming with this stupid cage on."

"Yes," she encouraged, "come for me."

Only a few more moments, and then… I ... came… sort of. Not the gratifying wild volcano erupting deep inside her like I needed. No, the metal cage kept my cock firmly in check, kept me from spurting. Groaning, I managed a few small spasms, I felt a little dribble of come leak out and then… nothing. No huge release, no elation. Nothing. It just… ended.

"No, no," I moaned to myself, "not like this. Oh, is that it? Damn it, is that all?"

She was just as surprised. "Poor baby, did you come? Was that all of it?"

I nodded, still breathing heavily. I barely felt myself pull out of her. I started to roll off in disgust, but she grabbed hold of my hair, and guided my head down to her pussy again.

"I'm not finished," she said reproachfully, "I thought that you'd at least wait for me, but you’re so inconsiderate. Now you have to make me come again. You'll just have to eat me some more."

It took a few seconds to register this. "Umm, but I just came," I complained, feeling cheated.

"Oh, you barely came at all, isn't that what you were complaining about? There can’t possibly be much there. Besides, I've gotten used to not cleaning up a mess afterwards, so you can just take care of it while you're down there." She pulled harder; I gave in, and soon her legs were over my shoulders, my tongue buried in her, tasting our salty mingled juices. As usual, it didn't take long for her to come. I could feel my own cock begin to stir again, but she didn't seem interested. Before long, she was lying on her side, asleep, my arms wrapped around her, my semi-hard cock still locked in the cage and pressing against her warm ass. I fell asleep, wondering what I could ask for my birthday next year.

Tuesday
I awoke before the alarm. My cock was raging, stiff and purple in the cage. I was again lying on my side, my hips rubbing up against her ass, trying to feel the warm heat against the bit of skin poking through the bars. I rolled onto my back, trying to calm down. At least it was Tuesday and my birthday was over. Finally, I could be free. I thought about how many different ways I could come, when my wife woke up. She rolled over on top of me, stroking my attempt at a hard-on.

"So, how did you like your birthday present?" she asked lazily. I was still frustrated, of course, but at least I could see the light at the end of the tunnel.

"It was very nice. I'm glad you're awake - I'm looking forward to getting out of this thing now. Do we have time for a quickie? I'm still frustrated from last night."

She raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really? How frustrated?"

I grunted in exasperation. "You have no friggin’ idea. All that buildup and then we just let it dribble out? I’m dying. I need something, anything. A handjob? Please?"

She was quiet for a few moments. "Umm, no, no time right now. Besides, you did get some kind of release, so what are you complaining about? You're lucky that you got that much."

I snorted. "Yeah, funny. That didn't count as coming."

She shrugged, and regarded me quietly. I shook her.

"So, um, the key. Or are you going to make me wait until after work again?"

She pressed her hands on my chest and raised herself to look at me. "Well, I was thinking. This was kind of fun, and it hasn't even been a week. I've had my toenails done, and had a nice massage, and I've gotten to come nicely every day."

She looked away for a few moments, then looked back at me, "So, this is working pretty well for me. Besides, this way there's no mess to clean up, I don't get sticky afterwards. And if I do decide to let you come like last night, it's pretty easy for you to take care of it. I might miss your cock, but you do so well with that dildo that I could manage for a while."

"A while?!" I cried, "What the hell are you talking about?!"

She drew a breath. "What do you think I'm talking about? I'm saying that I don't see any reason to unlock you. I'm getting everything that I want. You even get to come, apparently, even though it's not a big one. Besides, this way, you'll continue to stay interested in me."

"But I'm always interested in you!" I almost shouted. What kind of game was she playing, I wondered.

She put her finger on my lips. "You're nicer, more attentive, and you have more energy around the house. Plus, I rather like being in control of your comings and goings. Certainly your comings." She smiled at me again. "What I'm saying is that I like things just the way that they are. I know it was supposed to be your birthday present, but I really don't want to unlock you," she said firmly. "Well, maybe for our anniversary in a few months. Just think about the nice fucking that I’ll give you then."

I groaned. Some birthday present this turned out to be.

Commentation on My Chastity Story

2007-03-23T15:18:00.000-04:00

It's been three weeks since I posted about one of the chastity episodes with my wife. Except for a couple of Yahoo groups, I've never told that story anywhere; I'm amazed that I still feel embarrassed about some of my kinks, even behind the anonymity of the internet, but I'm even more amazed at how interesting other people found it. I've had 1,600 hits on that post alone, and several hundred more on my old Blogger site, and over a dozen comments. Some of you left questions, and I wanted to take the opportunity to address them.

Lady Julia Says: How do you feel about this years later? Are you happy you did it? Do you have any regrets?

This took place about two years ago. Yes, we are both happy that we did this, and it led to some good - and long overdue - discussions between us about sexuality and intimacy. It was good for me to finally begin to express some of the kinkier sides of me that I repressed for the previous decade. And I think it was particularly good for my wife to allow herself some creative sex play, something that she seemed to have given up since we were married. It took me a long time to become convinced that she was enjoying herself, and not simply indulging me.

Aside from the regret that we hadn't done this years earlier, I do regret that we still had not been able to resolve some of our issues with emotional intimacy when this happened. Unfortunately, there were times when it seemed (to me) that keeping me locked up (as we called it) might have been a means for her to avoid intimacy. It really wasn't until last year that we were able to get more of a handle on the real issues. That ties into the part about my wondering if she was merely being indulgent; fortunately, we are now able to address those issues better than we had in the past.

Suzy Says: I’d have to be in the no column as well:)

Understandably so. I want to stress that my wife did not really want this to be a permanent condition; but as we began to explore, just talking about the fantasy became very hot for both of us. It was a good experience overall, though, and it allowed the both of us to examine how reality intersects with fantasy.

Russ Says: Wow… Not sure I could last 48 hours, let alone months.

A few years ago, I would have said the same thing. It's not as if I had always had this fantasy; as I explained later, it just sort of snuck up on me. To give it some perspective, I've often referred to it as "BDSM Lite" - the device became a 24/7 reminder of a change in our relationship. It's kind of like having bondage without the the overt display of collars and other equipment.

Sassy Says: Also sounds like she found her niche. Did you ever think she would come so far from where you were initially?

She did find a niche, and even now she occasionally wants me to wear the harness, even without me being locked up; she really enjoys the idea of me being aroused and frustrated. It gives her a sense of control or ownership that she finds exciting.

I don't know how far I had expected her to come. When we were dating she showed some rather overt dominant traits, which was one of the things that attracted me to her. I was, however, surprised when she admitted that she would like to try this.

diggerjones Says: So when does she apply the soldering iron to the lock to make it permenent?

As I said, we both find this to be a hot fantasy, but neither of us would want this for more than a few ~~weeks~~ ~~months~~ years at a time.

Cat Says: "she confessed that the hottest thing in the world at the moment was knowing that I was caged, frustrated, and aroused just for her." Are you kidding what woman would not find that appealing????

Cat, that's why I like you!
I've been active in several Chastity groups for some years, and I can tell you that according to the men who post, most women partners are horrified, bored, disinterested, or freaked out by the idea. I think that a lot of men approach it in a way that is probably a turn-off for them, but it's apparently not for everyone.

I saved Kimba for last...

kimba Says: Tom..? I have questions..

That's why I'm here.

Don’t you miss the feeling of your wife? Especially against your fren piercing and all?

You missed the part where I said that this happened a couple of years ago. I was describing a series of episodes that started opening up the concepts for us. It's okay; you were probably one of those who skipped the details and went straight to the hot sex part.

I am thinking now of your penis far more than I think I should..

If I had a dollar for every time I've heard that one... I'd have a dollar.

I guess this post heightens the more than just physical act of lovemaking.. Damn I am talking around in circles trying to understand the concept..

No, this is actually very insightful. When I put on the harness and make love to my wife, is it sex? Of course it is! Sex isn't just about tubes of meat - it's about the sensual and the emotional, the sights and sounds and feelings all over your body. Hell, it's not even about the orgasm; I have found that the anticipation and arousal are more enjoyable- certainly much longer lasting - than the ten seconds of fireworks. I'm not discounting those ten seconds, of course, but I have long ago learned not to make them the reason for everything that leads up to them.

Back when I was in my early 20s I used to practice yoga. I ran across Tantric and Taoist practices, and learned about the pleasure that can be had by limiting my own physical orgasms, to sublimate them, as it were, into pleasure of another sort. It's not for everybody, admittedly. But over the years I have found that I really enjoy the low-level arousal that stays with me for days at a time.

Chastity - Some Backstory, Part 1

2007-03-19T17:54:00.000-04:00

Just what is the fascination with chastity devices and orgasm denial? In the couple of weeks past that I posted a bit about my wife and I experimenting with it, my blog hits have gone through the roof. That post has had more hits in the last two weeks than the next most popular post had in a month - and considering that the previous post had been mentioned in Sugasm, that's saying a lot.

There were some good comments on that post, too, but before I get into all that, I think this would be an appropriate time to give some background to this.

Back in the early 1990s, when the internet was still for geeks, one of my hobbies was web surfing. You know,go to a site, find a link, from there go to another site, then another, then another, until it was 1:15 am and you were a long way from where you'd started at 8:30 pm. Because I'm a normal guy, I'd look for p0rn - not so much for wank fodder, but simply because I found it enjoyable to look at attractive, leather-clad, whip-wielding Mistress types (Sorry, Bitchy, but the thigh-booted, cruel Dominatrix look is still hot, no matter what you say about it). I'd also look for stories, and more importantly, web forums where I could read about people - real people - who were exploring their BDSM-ish natures, especially since this was not an outlet easily open to me in Lower Podunk.

Anyway, in surfing one evening, I ran across a link to a fairly new site that had mostly emails from men (and some women) about chastity devices; reviews of the several devices available at the time, tips on how to make home-made devices, and tales (some true, some not) of being locked in for various periods of time. Chastity aficionados will recognize this as the inimitable Altairboy pages; perhaps the oldest, and certainly the most famous of this genre. I read the stories on that website the way one might look with fascination while passing an automobile accident. To me, it was almost beyond comprehension; I'd spent most of my adult life trying to have as much sex as possible, and here were people - mostly men, but not all - who were not only being denied, but who enjoyed it.

Weird!

After an hour or two of reading, I left the site, and didn't think much about it, until a year or so later I ran across it again. I couldn't believe that dozens of new stories had been added, plus pictures, and even more tips on modifying home-built devices. I again scanned the site, and surfed on elsewhere.

But the seed had taken root.

A few months later I was back again. And then a few weeks later. And then I'd stop by weekly to see if there were any new posts. I began to find them arousing, in fact, and read a few of them more than once.

And then, it happened. If you had told me this a couple of years previously I'd have said that you were crazy, but it happened all the same: I began to wonder how it would be to be locked into a device. I began to imagine them in my head, how they would look, how they would fit, and how I would feel with someone - one of those stern, cruel, Mistress-y types, perhaps - holding the key.

The various online fetish shops were selling items that, while not good for long-term use, were probably okay for weekend play, maybe even a week. I looked at them. And looked at them. Looked at some more. And finally, after exchanging several emails with Joel, owner of The Stockroom, I actually bought one; the style that they used to call a Stallion Guard. It looks pretty cool, but the cage was a little bulky, and did not bend into the most comfortable position for long-term wear. Also, the leather strap that encircled the balls began to stretch to the point where I had to cut new slots in it in order to keep it from slipping off. Lesson learned: "fetish" wear does not necessarily mean "comfort" wear.

By this time the CB2000 had come to the market, and after looking at pictures for several months, I began to get an idea for a device that incorporated the cage with a more comfortable design, and one that could be worn for long periods. Oh, and security would be a big issue to overcome, but since I have a machine shop to putter around in, I felt confident that I could work out the details. So, I decided to build my own.

Fetish Lore

2007-03-09T20:43:00.000-05:00

No, this is not about the history of fetishes. I'm just taking a moment to mention that the cottage industry of kink that is otherwise known as Richard - the pansexual polyfetishist - apparently does not had enough to do with the dozen or so blogs and feed aggregates that he manages; so he has just begun a web message board:

Fetish Lore

The board is for the discussion of D/s, BDSM, kink and fetishes. He hopes to have it develop as a low-profile operation for the education of those who are new to the lifestyle, who have questions but might be embarrassed to post at some of the more heavily trafficked groups. There are discussion groups ranging from the psychology and philosophy of D/s, to practical tips on bondage, to chastity and orgasm denial, to... well, you'll just have to see for yourself. I'll be checking in regularly to answer questions on chastity and orgasm denial, and I expect that some other well-known blogsters will be dropping by, as well.

Richard and I have exchanged an email or three over the last couple of years, and I have always found him to be calm, serious, and not disposed to suffering those from the Church of the One True Way lightly. I suspect that there are a number of people who read the various blogs who have questions about these topics that won't be answered on them. Discussion boards can be a great resource for those who are looking for some education and support, and I urge anyone who might be too shy to post on the Comments sections to drop by and check things out.

My own chastity story

2007-03-02T13:36:00.000-05:00

Okay, I've got a story, of sorts. It's not my usual Friday Fantasy because, well, it's not fantasy. This goes back to when my wife and I were first experimenting with chastity play and orgasm denial.

I've mentioned that a few years ago my wife and I tried some chastity play for a while. It started off as "just for a couple of weeks," and when a couple of weeks went by, we ( and yes, it was a "we" decision, we're not into any serious D/s) thought we'd go for a month. The month turned into two, then three and then six, and it ended up being almost 8 1/2 months of 24/7 wear in my CB3000. I was not allowed to have an orgasm during that entire time. Since it was mostly her idea in the first place - we had been looking for a kink to experiment with and that seemed to grab her fancy - I went along with any decision she made about it, just so she could get comfortable with the idea.

At first, she unlocked me a couple of times a week to have sex, and then I would clean up and we would replace the cage. After a month or so, we invested in a good strap-on harness and a good silicone dildo, and my unlockings became less frequent, several times it being four, five, or six weeks running. She prefers penetration over oral, so the harness really worked well for her. When the time came for our agreement to end, we were in the middle of some marital differences, so we put away the toys for a bit. We thought about playing once in a while, but frankly, after 8 months, going for a couple of weeks just didn't seem quite as exciting, so we didn't bother with it for a while.

Anyway, about seven or eight months after we had ended the last session, my wife left for a trip to visit some family for a week. I stayed home because of work (and because I enjoy my alone time anyway). So after spending the first day masturbating a few times out of boredom, I dug out the CB3k, cleaned it off and locked it on myself. Surprisingly, it didn't take long for me to get used to it again, so I left it on for the rest of the week. When it came time to head to the airport to pick her up, I was going to remove it, but at the last minute decided to leave it on. I got the bags, we had dinner, and she didn't discover it until we got home. She felt it against her leg, but didn't say anything until later on when we went to bed. She then asked why I had put it on and how long I'd worn it (just for the hell of it, and all week). We talked and then made out for a few minutes, and that's when I discovered something: she was wet. No, I don't mean the moistness that women get when they're aroused; I mean literally dripping down her legs with excitement.

I made love to her with my fingers and my mouth for a while, maybe 20 or 30 minutes, and then she asked me to put on the harness. I entered her, slowly at first, resting my weight on her and remembering how to angle myself for her pleasure. By this time I was rock-hard inside my cage, my balls were tight against the ring, everything straining to be free. I found my rhythm, and brought her to a tremendous climax literally within a minute. I slowed to give her time to breathe, and she indicated that I should keep going. As I continued my slow, deep thrusts, she began talking to me - something she rarely does during lovemaking - asking me how it felt to be locked up again, telling me that she missed me inside the device, and telling me how hot it made her to feel the dildo deep inside her with my hard cock inside the cage bumping into her ass. In no time at all she was coming again. And again. And again. It seemed that each time was more powerful than the last. Finally, I whispered in her ear that I didn't want her to allow me to come that night, that I would stay locked up because it was obviously making her so hot, and she came so suddenly and so hard that she gave herself a headache. We relaxed for a few minutes and then went to sleep. Well, at least she did - I was awake for a while longer, trying to calm down.

We had things to do during the week, so we didn't even get a chance to talk, let alone have a repeat of that first night. But finally the weekend came, and Friday night found us freshly showered and in bed, our bodies hot against each other. I reminded her that I hadn't come in over two weeks, and in response, she placed my hand on her mound so I could again feel how wet she had become just thinking about my frustration that week. No oral tonight, she asked me to put the harness on right away, and we spent the next hour in some more serious lovemaking. Again, I noted how turned on she seemed to be, and she kept repeating that she was getting off more and more on the idea of having me locked up. And that's when it started to come out; she whispered that she wanted to keep me locked up even longer than the last time, to not even let me out for a moment. Each time she mentioned it brought her to another climax, and by the end of the evening she was as worn out as I'd ever seen her. She went right to sleep from sheer exhaustion, while I lay awake for a while, not just from my own frustrated arousal, as from this new development on her part. Was she really serious?

A few days later I began to get an idea of just how serious she was. We went to bed early one night, and began kissing and fondling each other, and she said that because she was tired, she only wanted me to take her with the dildo for five or ten minutes. So during our lovemaking, I asked her how serious she was about not letting me out and about going for longer than last time. Nice months? Ten? Perhaps a year? She started to respond that the idea of me agreeing to go for a year was so hot... and she climaxed right in the middle of her sentence! Oh yes, she was serious; she'd love to see me frustrated, to know that I'd be aroused and excited all the time just for her. Our "five or ten minutes" soon turned into 45, and again she fell asleep out of exhaustion. Needless to say, I was awake - again - for quite some time.

Fortunately, we managed to make time for each other a couple of days later, and I tried to keep our lovemaking slow and paced. I asked her how serious she was, and each time she kept responding that she wanted me to stay locked up for a long time. Then she asked the tough question: Did I want to know how long? I thought about it, and told her no, I don't want to know - I was willing to leave it completely at her discretion. Oh, how that sent her into a series of short, fast orgasms; and when she was done, she asked me to tell her again, to beg her to keep me locked up. Each time I told her that I didn't want to come sent waves of pleasure through her like I'd never seen. She even suggested that we make a replica of my own cock, so that she'd never have a reason to allow me to be out, and I told her that we could check blowfish.com for something, since they had several that were very natural looking. She wondered how I'd feel about being "replaced", and of course, I told her that as long as I was keeping her satisfied, it was good enough for me. Ah yes, that was the right answer, and she soon finished, exhausted and happy.

Needless to say, by the end of the week we had checked the Blowfish site and had decided on the Bent Realistic (medium) because it seemed to be the closest thing to my own natural shape and size. I spent the money for the expedited shipping, and soon found just how closely it resembled me - close enough to make her very excited and me very nervous. We couldn't wait to try it out, though, and soon I was half proud and half jealous of this new addition. The large head stimulated her better than the dildo we had been using, and best - or maybe worst - of all, she kept saying how much it felt just like my own cock. I found that I could position it just a little lower on my hips, and before long my wife was whispering in my ear thoughts and fantasies of keeping me locked in the device for longer and longer periods, of not ever allowing me to come, of forever feeling my cage pressed against her ass while I filled her with my new silicone "friend". And each time she whispered a new fantasy brought her another wave of pleasure, another climax, and another satisfied sigh.

We finished with her asking me to lay on my back so she could ride me. This is my favorite position because I enjoy watching her. As she pressed herself onto me, I felt the stirrings of a "release", what I call it when my body is about to release it's semen without an orgasm. I told her what was happening, and she paused and asked me to stop. It was very difficult because I'd gotten so completely turned on from pleasuring her, but I managed to hold on. When I was back in control, she told me that she didn't even want me to release unless she gave me permission, perhaps once a month or so. She continued to move her hips on me, slowly, just enough to keep herself aroused, but not quite enough to come. She told me that she found herself even more excited this time around than the previous session, and while she couldn't explain what the attraction was to her, it became obvious that she had developed a serious kink, perhaps even a fetish for this. As she worked herself into the last climax of the night, she confessed that the hottest thing in the world at the moment was knowing that I was caged, frustrated, and aroused just for her. She said that she was serious about not allowing me to come, and in fact, about not even allowing me out of the cage for at least six months and probably for a year, to a year and a half - right up until the summer. Could I handle it?

I don't know.

Could I?

Could you?

Fauxdommes & Fauxmissives

2007-02-18T12:41:00.000-05:00

Sometimes it's simply too difficult to keep one's mind in the game. All those rules and regulations start running together, and if you're not focused you'll wake up one morning and realize that you're confused, and that some Dick will tell you that you're not as real as you once thought you were. Then the existential questions will follow. W/which L/letters G/get C/capitalized? Who gets and who gives the oral? Which one of you gets on top? Should you really need the restraints? Where's the corkscrew for that bottle of golden champagne? And whatever happened to that steaming hot sex you were having?

In other words, smoking more now, but enjoying it less?

Take heart - now there's hope for the busy would-be kinksters who simply don't have time for those D/s ettiquette courses. A recently dicovered Tantric manuscript found in the Earl of Edgerton's library (that is, under the cracked floorboard of the coat closet in the pantry next to the library) describes the long-forgotten art of becoming less "dommier" or "subbier" than the next person, while still managing to increase one's inner pleasure. And since the Earl is already not having sex with more women than he can handle, he has graciously offered to have copies of the manuscript made and passed into the public domain.

Goddesses, Ladies, Mistresses, and Womyn can now learn the re-discovered ancient esoteric and erotic art of "Fauxdomination."

And just as importantly, slaves, would-be slaves, groveling worms, pets, and ambulatory washbasins who have not been able to keep their thoughts focused properly can now learn the ancient art of "fauxmissiveness." Like Fauxdomination, fauxmissiveness is 1/3 easier to practice, and 42% faster to learn.

No longer will a Domme have to weigh the consequences of allowing a submissive to think for himself. Likewise, submissives will no longer have to wonder if they are being selfish when they complain of work pressure, chest pain, or missing appendages.

A smart Fauxdomme will begin training her pet as a fauxmissive without delay. Unless it's really inconvenient right now. But later is good, too.

The Earl apologizes for not making a personal appearance to announce this important find. It seems that he has been somewhat distraught ever since somebody mailed to him a small package (it came C.O.D.) containing a large popsicle stick with a number of rubber bands stapled to the tip.

"... but when I'm bad, I'm terrific."

2007-02-04T22:32:00.000-05:00

The quote from Mae West supposedly went "When I'm good, I'm very good; but when I'm bad, I'm terrific." I've always liked the humor of it, but it points up something interesting. As a response to my post on the "fines" for being bad, Suzy (who managed a respectable $610.10) had this to say (before she yanked the post from sheer embarrassment:

I actually did this on the up and up. Pretty much all the bad stuff was before I became involved in with Ty. Some of the fun stuff was afterward:)

I’ve known Ty since high school but of course I was not interested in him at all because he was:

Nice
Kind
Decent
Gorgeous
Honorable
Intelligent
Fun
Hardworking

Being with him would have seriously derailed my master plan to completely fuck up my life. In the infinite wisdom of youth I wanted guys who were none of the above. Boy there’s another whole blog. Better go before I get all bummed out and start running up the fines again.

Likewise, Kimba had something in a similar vein recently:

Really guys.. I used to like you ten years ago.. So why now are so many of you such uptight, ungenerous, unadventurous, unromantic, pain in the arse bastards?
[Do you] guys get dicked around by women who promise they'll call and never do.. by women who leave you as soon as the sex is over, your pants still around your ankles?

I've belonged to several web groups where the longest running threads often had titles like "Why do women like jerks?" or "I'm a nice guy, why can't I find a nice girl?" And as much as I hate playing up the stereotypes, I think that this one deserves some discussion. Like Ty, when I was young I thought that the way to attract women was to be polite, decent, honest and considerate.

Umm... not that I ever was all of those things consistently, of course, but I did make an effort.

In high school I did the "nice guy" thing and consequently spent a lot of Saturday nights hanging out with the other nice guys. In college, though, I began to wise up. Good thing, too, or else I'd have missed out on a lot of interesting experiences and this blog would have to be called "The Solid Middle of Vanilla."

I was reminiscing about some of those experiences from back then, and I remember something interesting. When I was about 21 or 22, I roomed with a guy I'd met when I was a freshman. We became good friends over the next few years, and after college he and I shared an apartment for a while. It was our first bachelor pad. No lava lights or shag carpeting, but it was a nice place, warm, off-street parking, and working utilities. We were both polite, attentive, sensitive, and well read.

Translation: we were often dateless on Saturday nights. And Fridays. Not much happening on Thursdays, either. Well, we did get a lot of the "chaste kiss followed by 'I really like you as a friend...' " routines.

My friend finally snapped under the pressure. He was tired of being a "friend" to all of these women who only wanted to cry over what a jerk their last (or current) boyfriend was being toward them. He decided that the only way to get any action was to be a real jerk, himself. An "insufferable bastard", I believe he termed it. And he methodically set about acting as boorish and loutish as one could imagine. I tried this, too, but when we traded tales, he was much better at it than I. He stood women up, neglected to call them afterwards, stopped taking them to nice places for dinner and instead took them to dives. He would take their number and not call them after sex - which he seemed to be having in record quantities.

He stopped picking them up, insisting that dates meet him someplace. And unbelievably, his social calendar was always full. He did this for about a year and a half. I met many of his dates; some of them worked with him, some of them met him through other friends. The weirdest part was that some of them told me that they had "never really noticed him before," but lately found that there was "something different" about him. One of them used to call me monthly to complain about how he never called her anymore, and asked if he had said anything to me about that.

He and I lost touch over the years, but we reconnected a few years ago, and one night we went out to dinner and spent a few hours talking about that whole thing. I now think that he used it as an excuse to take out some hostility, but that's a completely unprofessional opinion. But the fact remains that date-wise, he was much more successful at attracting women when he acted like a jerk.

He finally met someone that he liked enough to make him stop. There is no small irony in that she turned out to have a bitchy streak a mile wide, and after about 15 years, she divorced him and married the guy that she'd been cheating on him with. An alcoholic with a poor job history and a motorcycle.

There's a lesson in here someplace. Isn't there?

Friday... Naked Lunch

2007-01-26T10:49:00.001-05:00

"Try this. I think it's a little bland, but we can work with it."

"Mmm. Yes, it would be nice to spice it up a bit."

"You want it spicier? Really?"

"Yes, you know I like it spicy!"

"Didn't you tell me last week that things were too spicy lately, and you needed to have it more 'comforting', I think you called it?"

"Well, that was last week. I'm hungry for something spicier now."

"How spicy do you want it?"

"A little spicier than this."

"A little?"

"Umm..."

"Tell me. How spicy?"

"More. "

"Tell me, dammit! How spicy?"

"More! I want more. More than this."

"Okay, how's this?"

"Mmm...."

"Better?"

"Nuh uh. More."

"Okay, have some of this! How's that, huh?"

"Oooh. Yeah, more like that."

"You want more? Huh? You want more of this?"

"Yes, yes, yes... more, give me more."

"Okay, you asked for it. See this? Huh, see how big it is?"

"Oooh, it's big, isn't it?"

"I'm going to put it in."

"No! Not all of it?"

"You want spicy, I'm gonna give you spicy."

"Ooohhhh, I'll never be able to take all that."

"Oh yes you will. You're gonna take it, and you're gonna like it, you hear me?"

"Oh, oh...Oh!"

"Liking, it, aren't you?"

"Y... yes."

"Here, take some more."

"No, I don't think I ca... oooh, yes, that's good."

"Yeah, like that. Now I'm gonna give you all of it."

"All?"

"Yeah, all. Here it goes... there, how's that?"

"Mmmmm... oh yes, yes, yes... that's fantastic."

"There, satisfied now?"

"Oh yes! That's what I like! Thank you for making it so spicy for me."

"It's my pleasure. Just remind me to pick up another bottle of chipotle sauce at the grocery next week."

I've Been Sugasmed!

2007-01-23T10:47:00.000-05:00

Yes, my WordPress blog was entered in the latest Sugasm sex blogger roundup.

Sugasm #63

The best of this weeks blogs by the bloggers who blog them. Highlighting the top 3 posts as chosen by Sugasm participants. Want in Sugasm #63? Submit a link to your best post of the week using this form. Participants, repost the linklist within a week and you’re all set.

This Week’s Picks
That sound (http://junohenry.wordpress.com)
All she wanted was a cold drink when she woke up (http://thebinside.blogspot.com)
Once, a long time ago (http://excessesofabasement.blogspot.com)

Mr. Sugasm Himself
Angelina Jolie’s Real Marvelous Breasts (http://sugarbank.com)

Editor’s Choice
What Really Really Sucks (http://alwaysarousedgirl.blogspot.com)

More Sugasm
Join the Sugasm

Erotic Writing and Experiences
Begging for it (http://dirtylittlecockslut.blogspot.com)
Cheerleading Camp (http://lostinperversion.com)
Chicago! (http://perverselypoly.blogspot.com)
Release (http://pick-up-pieces.blogspot.com)
Sex with D (http://plum001.blogspot.com)
Use Me Up (an RPG) (http://femmefataleteen.blogspot.com)
The Workout (http://eroticjournals.blogspot.com)Sex and Politics
Michigan: Adultery Punishable By Life Behind Bars (http://smutandsteff.com)

Sex News, Reviews and Interviews
The Eroticism of Dance: Matthew Bourne’s ‘Swan Lake’ (http://adelehaze.com)
Interview with a Masturbator (http://masturbationblogs.blogspot.com)
Stunt Cock Casting Call (http://www.lovehoney.co.uk)
Ultime G-Spot Vibrator Review (http://stilettodiaries.blogspot.com)

Sex Work
Devoted Pets Learn To Adjust Their Lives For Princess (http://www.phonesexsub.com/brat_blog/)
My Wonderful Adult Life (http://www.model-chat.com)
Sexy Sausages And Scary STDs (http://radicalvixen.com/blog)

BDSM and Fetish
Canings for a good cause (http://pandorablake.blogspot.com)
Happy HNT - Spank me panties and threesome fun (http://darkside-journey.blogspot.com)

Is it Friday yet? (http://vanillaedge.wordpress.com)

[Yes, that' s my story! ]

Morning canings at school, re-visited (http://www.spankingwriters.com/blog)
No cane, no pain, no gain! (http://blog.sex-mad-witch.com)
Spanking the Monkey!! (http://theriverdalegoddess.typepad.com)
Yes Sir (http://www.suzanneportnoy.com)

Thoughts on Sex and Relationships
A Niners Tale For the Feminists (http://loladavid.wordpress.com)
Of My Untried Fantasies, and Many Other Thoughts (http://totalsensuality.blogspot.com)
Sestina for Zoe (http://sweatshopsissy.wordpress.com)
Thoughts on Monogamy (http://deliciously-naughty.typepad.com)

Spank Me panties courtesy of Journey to the Darkside.

Is it Friday yet?

2007-01-18T22:41:00.000-05:00

"Are you sure you want your present tonight?"

"Of course I do," I answered impatiently, "I've been waiting two months for this."

"I thought so," she nodded, "And I did promise you a nice fucking for your birthday, didn't I? Would you mind if I tied you up first?"

"Would I? You mean you have to ask?"

The nylon webbing was already attached to the headboard. In a minute we had the thick leather cuffs snugly around my wrists and she was snapping the clips to the steel ring. She propped my neck and head up on a few pillows, and stroked my chest and stomach lightly with her fingernails. "You've been looking forward to your present, ever since I promised you the fucking of your life for your birthday, haven't you?"

I nodded, enjoying her touch. I closed my eyes, savoring the light, sharp rake of her nails down my stomach, down to my thighs.

She bent down to nuzzle my neck, her gentle bites causing me to moan a little bit. Her lips traveled down my chest, moving from one nipple to the other. Again, her gentle nipping sent electric shocks throughout the rest of my body, making me alternate between moaning and gasping. After a few minutes, she continued downward, planting soft kisses and tiny nibbles on my stomach, then lower still, teasing and promising delights yet to come. Her mouth moved down to my thighs, and her tongue traced the line where my thighs joined my body. My hips, seemingly of their own accord, raised to meet her touch.

The next thing I knew, it was twenty minutes later and I was whispering "Oh please, please..." over and over again.

"It looks like you're pretty aroused," she whispered into my ear. She gave my earlobe a little nibble, and said "I'll be right back. I need to change into something more ... appropriate for your birthday fucking." She emphasized the word with a tweak of my nipple.

I was panting with desire. "No, no, come back," I pleaded, but the only response was her evil laughter and the sound of the bathroom door closing.

I took a few deep breaths to get myself centered. It seemed as if something was "off." I was naked and restrained, and very, very vulnerable. Suddenly, I realized that I was not completely naked. There was one article of, well, not exactly clothing, but something that I thought should be removed. In fact, considering her promise two months ago, it seemed essential. Yes, over two months ago, she promised to give me a "birthday fucking," one like I'd never had before in my life. But there was a catch, a catch that was suddenly very apparent.

"Um, honey?" I called out to the bathroom door. "I don't want to sound ungrateful or anything, but I think you forgot something."

She opened the door to reply. "What's the matter? Do you need a drink of water?"

"No, but I need something else if I'm going to do any fucking tonight."

"What's that?" she called around the edge of the door.

"The key. Where's the key?"

Through the open door I heard her fumbling around with clothes and zippers and snaps. "What are you talking about?" she asked.

"Usually you're wearing the key around your neck. I didn't notice it tonight."

"I haven't worn it in a few weeks, Mr. Observant."

Oh oh. Nothing like not noticing when they change something. At least it wasn't a new hairdo, I thought.

"Besides, I thought you got over all those problems getting it adjusted and comfortable to wear," she continued, "so what's the problem now?"

"Um, no problem with the comfort," I called back, "it's just that I was looking forward to some good sex."

"Yeah, me too," she replied, "So?"

"Well, how am I going to have sex with you if you don't take the damn chastity device off of me?" I asked, a touch impatiently.

A few more clothing noises from the bathroom. "Who said anything about removing your device?" she called back.

Now I was confused. "You did! You said I'd get to fuck you for my birthday!"

"No I didn't," she replied teasingly, "What I said was that you were going to get a good fucking for your birthday... one like you'd never had before in your life. I certainly don't remember saying anything about letting you out of the device, though, do you?" The bathroom light snapped off.

"But how..." I began, and then stopped.

She walked out of the bathroom, dressed in a leather body harness. She climbed up onto the bed and positioned herself between my legs. I lowered my gaze to her hips and caught my breath.

The strap-on gleamed in the flickering candlelight.

She grinned down evilly at me. "Are you ready for your birthday fucking?"

The Edge of Famous

2007-01-11T17:04:00.000-05:00

I mostly use the WordPress account because, well, I like it better than my mirror on Blogger. Cooler features, easier to manage, pretty colors. I wish I could modify the template more, but one thing at a time.

Anyway, last week I was home sick with a wicked flu, so I didn't bother looking at the other account. I checked it the other day, though, and almost fell out of my chair. My hit count went crazy! Normally the WordPress blog gets between 200 and 300 hits per day, and the Blogger gets maybe half of that. But for several days running the Blogger account was double the WordPress one. What?

Turns out I was getting most of the hits from Fleshbot - an adult blogger site. Apparently The Edge of Vanilla was one of several featured blogs. More specifically, one of my Friday Fantasies was mentioned in the Jan 5th picks.

Sex Blog Roundup: Laws Of Desire

Devotion sometimes overwhelms simple desire, making lovers do things that would make no sense to anyone outside its spell. It makes a wife cherish a husband's t-shirt or a submissive crave a dominant's admonishments. Today's roundup of the some of our favorite recent writing from the sex blog scene runs the gamut of devotion from the sweet to the extreme, from a simple boudoir kiss to all manner of soul-shattering orgasms ... including those forced or denied.

I should mention that my friend Crash was also on that list, as were several other blogs that I hadn't yet discovered. Some good reads on all of them, I might add.

Gosh, I certainly hope that this brush with fame doesn't go to my head.

Toy Shopping in Oz?

2007-01-10T11:14:00.000-05:00

My new friend Kimba, now having gotten over her embarrassment at being linked to a "fetish" site, has decided to do some shopping for adult toys. As she put it:

Since visiting here Tom I am now looking to buy my first vibrator.. but SHIT.. I can’t even buy condoms.. I seriously can’t.. don’t suppose you can do some personal shopping for me?

If this were the US, I could point her toward some of my favorite online shops. Unfortunately, I don't know what's available in the land down under. I know that I have some Australian readers, perhaps some of you can leave notes or links about your favorite shops - either online or brick & mortar - in the Comments section for Kimba?

It's Friday again...

2007-01-05T16:48:00.000-05:00

"I finished the last coat," I told her, carefully screwing the top on so as not to spill any of the bright red polish on the floor.

She looked up from her magazine and wriggled her toes. The foam cushions kept her from messing up the end of almost an hour's worth of work on her feet. Washing, pumicing, scrubbing, buffing, a coat of clear, and two coats of fire-engine red. Yes, cars and women, I thought to myself, they get almost the same kind of maintenance.

"Very nice. How long for this to dry?"

"I'd say about ten minutes. Maybe fifteen to make sure."

"I love it when you put the last coat on. Do you know why?" She shifted her legs over my shoulders, one on each side of my head.

"I think you like that 'waiting until they're dried' part," I replied.

"I think you're right," she responded. "I'm really beginning to see the benefits of this Mistress/slave thing you've been asking me about. For one thing, it's saved me a fortune on nail salon fees."

"Is that all?"

In answer, she scooched down in the chair and curled her legs. I moved my head forward so she could direct me with her hands.

A minute later, there was only the scent of her musk, the tension of her thighs around my neck, the sweet sound of her moans... and the occasional clinking of my shackles on the floor.

I'm a Fetishist!

2006-12-30T23:58:00.000-05:00

Okay, I admit to being a bit of a link whore - almost as much as I'm a comment whore. But for the most part, I'm less concerned with others linking to me as I am with discovering new and different blogs to read. A quick perusal of my blogroll shows that I'm adding blogs that fit into several categories. While most of them deal with "alternative sexuality, " and more specifically in the D/s genre, I also read a lot of others in what I call "Marrige & Relationships." While most of them seem to be blogs that detail problems in relationships, once in a while I come across blogs that showcase some of the more positive aspects. To that end, I've linked "Over 40 Married Sex" (how could you not love a title like that?) and "Crash's Sex Story Spot," both of which being examples of happy, married sexuality.

Since I tend to think of this blog as an exploration of sexual and emotional intimacy, it was surprisng to see someone showcase me as a "fetishist." Kimba has a funny blog... or rather, she tells funny stories about dating and her other relationships. Apparently she linked here to give her own readers something interesting to read (and for many of us, this is praise indeed!). But this quote from her cracks me up:

I have just seen my blog, blogrolled on a fetishist site.. I can't tell you how hysterical and intimidated I am at the same time..

So now I'm wondering - when the hell did I become a "fetishist"? Was it when I bought those knee-high black leather boots for my wife? Was it when I insisted on having sex wearing a corset? Was it when I discovered that yak butter makes a great personal lubricant? Or was it when I had my manacles monogrammed? Or maybe it was when I asked Santa to bring me a vibrating, inflatable butt plug for Christmas...

Friday Fantasy

2006-12-29T11:58:00.000-05:00

"I love the way your cock feels," she said, her face laying against my chest which muffled her voice slightly.

"Really?"

"Mmm, especially how that nice big head slides between my lips. I love how my lips close around it." Her fingers wandered idly around my thighs, tickling and teasing.

"You came a lot this time, I noticed."

"Mmmm," she sighed in contentment, "that's because you did such a wonderful job." She stopped tickling my thighs to fondle my cock. "Damn, your cock was just so perfect. I love how it just reaches that spot inside. And that little curve at the end rubs me just the right way. Mmmm, the thought of doing this tomorrow is making me aroused again."

"What! You're still not satisfied?"

"Oh, I am, I am." She kissed my nipple, making me gasp a bit. "In fact, I think I'm going to be a little sore tomorrow. " She sighed again. "But I couldn't ask you to stop, not when that cock was feeling so good inside me."

"We aim to please," I said. I lightly scratched her back with my nails. No response "Hey."

"Mmmm? What?"

"I think you're falling asleep on me."

She yawned. "Your cock wore me out. Can we go to sleep now?"

"If you want."

She rolled onto her back. "Okay, you can take it off now."

So I undid the buckles and removed the harness, and moments later I was in the bathroom, washing my cock. The noise from me putting it back in the nightstand drawer made her stir, and she woke up slightly when I got back into bed.

"So, my new cock is a success, then? A keeper?"

Snuggling over to me, she whispered, "Your new cock was the best one yet. It's just like you. Remind me to write a nice letter to the Blowfish people."

I kissed the top of her head as she drifted off to sleep, her fingers still fondling my chastity device, in which my old cock still strained against the hard plastic.

The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly

2006-12-28T20:48:00.000-05:00

The Good: Suzy has enabled the "Mail To" function, allowing you to mail her excellent articles to someone (or yourself) in anticipation of her taking to blog down. Again.

The Bad: Our over-the-top Suzy has once again disabled her comments.

The Ugly: It's already Thursday and I haven't done a Friday Fantasy yet.

Disclosure on Enclosure

2006-12-27T21:34:00.000-05:00

"We are who we pretend to be, so we must be careful who we pretend to be." -- Kurt Vonnegut "Mother Night".

I've had some interesting comments on my article about "Enclosure" that deserve some discussion - mainly because I'm surprised that some people are in the same situation that I am.

Sagitaria writes:

I’m not especially kinky myself, but I can relate because even though I’m using a pseudonym and am completely anonymous, I still hold back from posting some of my most personal thoughts and feelings for public consumption. Whether because it wouldn’t fit the image I’ve created, I don’t know.

This was in response to my concern that one of the groups in which I post seems to be overwhelmingly "vanilla", and I'd found that this made me hesitant to initiate non-vanilla topics.

For some value of "vanilla," obviously.

And echoing my own thoughts was Val, who wrote:

I can relate to the "enclosure" concept...
Although I blog only [semi-]anonymously, I find myself trapped by self-censorship ALL THE DAMN TIME; yet that's one of the reasons I STARTED a blog in the 1st place!?!?

I've been perusing other blogs and I've noticed a few comments similar to those above, but I think that Val nailed it above: Her blog was supposed to be her freedom from self-censorship, but almost two years of journaling have made her more, not less protective of the impression that she gives to others.

Yes, that's funny, isn't it? Despite the anonymity of the internet, we develop personas and become so attached to them that they become virtually indistinguishable from our actual selves. I'm not talking about keeping our names hidden to avoid trouble with our families, friends, jobs, social networks; I'm talking about the way we - I - have invested so much ego into these electronic facias that those personas end up being just as closed off, hidden, private as we are at home or at work.

Friday Fantasy

2006-12-22T15:05:00.000-05:00

The email was as explicit as it was brief. I was to leave work early, go home and bind myself to the bed in what we called "sensory deprivation mode". That meant I was to wear my hood, with earplugs to deaden any sound and the eye patches closed.

And then I was to wait.

I blew off some paperwork and 40 minutes later I was naked and getting into position. I fastened my legs to the end of the bed with the leather cuffs, carefully placed the spring-loaded hooks for the hand restraints into position, and placed the hood over my head.

Damn, it's dark in here. And quiet.

I lay back carefully and wriggled my wrists over the the hooks. They caught and fastened, and I tugged to be sure that they were secure. The very last click is a frighteningly erotic moment, because at that point, I'm completely immobilized. I can twist and turn a bit, but there's no way that I'm going to escape.

I lay back, trying to settle my mind in the quiet darkness. Breathe in. Hold. Did I leave the light on or off? Exhale. Breathe in. Hold. Did I lock the door? Exhale. Breathe in. Hold. Dammit, I forgot to get the mail. Exhale. Breathe...

And I waited.

So quiet.

So dark.

So calming.

How long had I waited? Twenty minutes? Two hours? I half sighed, half gasped at her touch. Her hand on my chest felt surprisingly cool and rough; it explored my body as if I were an unfamiliar object, poking, prodding. A sharp pain in one nipple, then the other. Oww, I thought, she's going from zero to sixty in nothing flat. Even so, I could feel the blood rushing to my cock, betraying my inner pain slut. In other circumstances I'd feel embarrassed, but here I was an object. And objects don't feel...

Ouch! I jumped, trying to move away from the painful grasp around my balls. That's too much, too soon. Oww, they're going to burst, ow, ow... ahh, that's better. Damn, is she trying to damage me? But I stopped mentally complaining when I felt that rough, cool grip on the shaft of my cock. Oh, that's nice. Oh yes, so nice. I moaned slightly in pleasure, and then again in dismay as my cock was freed. But then I felt the bed move with the weight, and moments later the rough, cool hands were replaced by a very hot, moist mouth. My hips rose to meet the new pleasure, my cock welcoming the tongue and lips and occasional feel of fingers.

But this was different somehow. I'm never permitted to come without her rare and grudgingly given permission, and she generally teases the hell out of me, slowly, sensuously. But the mouth on me now was hard, hungry. Soon my cock was even stiffer from the blood being sucked into the veins. I realized that I was moaning and writhing, and slowly moving to the verge of losing control.

Oh no! In my hood I'm essentially deaf. How would I know that she was giving permission? Maybe this is one more test? I suddenly went from giving myself over to the pleasure to growing frantic at the possibility that she would force me to come, only to chastise me later for doing so without permission. I tried to hold back. Tried. Tried and tried and tried, but that hungry mouth was relentless. She seemed to know I was holding back, and reached a hand down to massage and fondle my balls. I tried to think of baseball, England, my ex-wife. I felt, rather than heard the low moan build in the back of my throat, and moments later realized that every muscle in my body was tense, waiting for the inevitable explosion...

...which came.

And came.

And came some more. A veritable Vesuvius, a Krakatoa, a Mount St. Helen's. And scant seconds later I reveled in the pleasure of release, until it was tempered by the shame of failure. I never heard her permission, which was the same as not having received it. I slumped back into the bed to wait her punishment.

And waited.

And waited.

And my body, relaxed by the rare gift of orgasm, soon dozed off.

~~~~~

"Oh honey, I'm so sorry. I locked my friggin' keys in the car, and I tried calling you, but obviously you couldn't hear the phone."

"Wha...?" The light from the bedroom lamp was blinding, and I felt the cool air on my face as she peeled back the hood.

"So I managed to call Suzy to pick me up, and we looked at the car and didn't know what to do, and then she called Ty."

"Wha..? Ty? Suzy? Huh?"

"Yes, and fortunately Ty had some tools in his trunk from that new playroom he's building. He was able to open my door and guess what?"

"Uh..." The cobwebs in my head were starting to clear. "Keys?"

"Yeah, my stupid keys weren't in the car at all. They had fallen out of my jacket and were laying on the floor next to my desk at work. Can you believe that?"

"Um... You mean you just got home?"

"Yes, and I'm so sorry. You fell asleep, you were tied up so long. Four hours, maybe. I hope you're not mad at me."

She had been unfastening the restraints as she spoke, and I was now sitting on the edge of the bed, rubbing my wrists.

"Just now? You didn't come by earlier?"

"Are you still sleeping? Yes, that's what I'm saying, I just walked in the door two minutes ago. Look, obviously I'm not in the mood to play right now, and I'm sure you need a break. Let's get dressed and I'll buy you dinner, okay?"

"Umm... yeah. Dinner. Dinner sounds good. Just give me a few minutes to splash water on my face and get dressed." Dammit, she's screwing with my mind! This was my punishment for coming without her permission. Something bad was going to happen to me, I just knew it.

I brushed my teeth, ran a comb through my hair, and threw on some rumpled clothes, as she made more apologies for being late and careless and made sure that I wasn't mad.

As I stood at the toilet, she went to get her coat. "Honey, when did UPS get here?"

"What? UPS?"

"Yeah, there's a package here in the hall. It wasn't here this morning, so I figured they delivered it this afternoon."

"A package?"

"Yes, a package. Didn't you sign for it?"

Self Enclosure

2006-12-20T00:48:00.000-05:00

One of the reasons that I started a blog was to give me a certain sense of enclosure. Not "closure" - the sense of ending things in a way to have some peaceful resolution, but "enclosure" - the act of bringing the various far-flung aspects of one's personality together for more integral functioning. In short, to not have a bazillion little secrets parts, all "compartmentalized" so that nobody gets to know the "real me." I have written on a number of different subjects on a number of different venues that never seem to cross. After several false starts, it was my intention that I'd have a blog that encompasses those various aspects.

Of such things is the road to Hell paved.

I mention this because I've been checking my blog stats. Yes, I have an ego, and when I realized that people were actually reading this blog I started checking the stats a couple of times a day. Want to know something interesting? A very large proportion of people coming to this site do so because they are searching for "orgasm denial" or "chastity" or something similar. Very large. And except for a few posts that I dragged over from my old blog, I haven't really discussed chastity in general or chastity devices at all. At least, not here.

And that's part of my point; I get emails from people all the time, looking for advice on picking out a device (technical stuff is easy) or how to get their partner (usually, but not always female) to go along with it (relationship stuff is not as easy). And in addition to the emails I still post regularly in several different online groups, some of which even seem to appreciate what I have to say. But I never mention chastity or orgasm denial in some of the groups, nor do I let loose with my trademark wit (okay, my bad puns and double entendres) in others. As Samuel Clemens would have said, "Never the Twain shall meet."

So here's an interesting tidbit of self-discovery: Even in the relative anonymity of my little corner of the blog world, I'm embarrassed to admit to having a kink. How stupid is that, anyway? What's even stupider is that I can't even describe why I'm embarrassed. No, wait - yes, I can. It's embarrassing to me because when I try to step back to look at it objectively, it seems like a weird kink to have. I mean, who the hell writes about sex but has a kink which revolves around not having it? On top of that, it involves equipment, which makes it somehow weirder on the kink scale (you know about the kink scale, right? The more equipment involved, then the weirder it must be, because it becomes less "natural").

So, there it is. In the near - the very near - future I'm going to out myself with regard to my kinks. It's not for your benefit, but for mine. In fact, let's consider this to be an early New Year's resolution - I want to bring all those far-flung aspects of me into one enclosure.

Another Friday Fantasy

2006-12-15T00:01:00.000-05:00

Stolen from inspired by Destiny & chance

"How long has it been since you've come?"

We both knew very well how long it had been. "99 days," I responded, thickly, straining against the bonds holding my arms to the headboard.

She knelt between my legs, the lube glistening on her fingers in the candlelight. She worked it into my ass while she spoke. "Ninety-nine days and twenty two hours. Almost done, aren't we? Tomorrow will be one hundred days. You must be very, very excited by now." She teased my cock and balls until I groaned an agreement. "And I promised you that if you could hold out for a hundred days, then I'd let you have your way with me for a month straight - any way you wanted, didn't I?"

"Yes," I whispered, "just a couple more hours to go."

It was a good game, but with a terrible penalty: if I came without permission, then I would have to start over for another hundred days. Paradoxically, it got easier as time went on; I was able to allow my focus on my body go elsewhere. Most of the time, anyway; but in the last few days I've felt my composure slipping as the deadline neared.

"Do you know what this is?" She held up a black rubbery device and poured some more lube over it. "It's a butt plug," she went on, "I read your blog and you wrote that it was something you wanted to try." I sucked in my breath as she eased the plug into my ass. "I ordered it a couple of weeks ago. It's quite the toy." I felt the cool taper stretching me, and then the sudden clenching as my muscle clamped onto the smaller diameter. I closed my eyes, panting slightly.

"And do you know what this is?" she asked again. I opened my eyes to see her holding a rubber squeeze bulb. "See, it's an inflatable butt plug." As I opened my mouth to answer, she gave it a squeeze and said "One."

I gritted my jaw. She paused for ten seconds or so, watching me carefully.

"Two," she counted, giving the bulb another squeeze.

Another pause. Ten seconds.

"Three."

The sudden expansion made me twitch.

"Four."

I started clenching my muscles, knowing that the plug was expanding deeper inside of me.

"Five."

By now I could really feel it stretching my insides. I rocked my hips on the bed, but that only served to make it stimulate me.

"Six."

Involuntarily, I let out a whimper.

"Oh, do you like that? It must feel really nice, being all full. I'm sure it's pressing up against your prostate."

I nodded. Every movement seemed to excite me, and I could feel my composure slipping.

"Seven."

I let out a small moan.

"Yeah, nudging up against your prostate, all swollen from not coming for ninety-nine days. Look, your cock is all swollen. Must be getting hard to hold back, huh?"

I shook my head back and forth. "No, I'm fine," I lied. My voice sounded high and weak.

"Sure you are," she replied. She held up the bulb. "Eight."

I could feel my arms trembling. I tried to breathe through my mouth, slow, measured...

"Nine."

I bit down hard on my lip. It was filling me, both painful and pleasurable. Each motion nudged me just a teeny bit closer to losing control.

"Wouldn't it be a real bitch if you came now, with only an hour and a half to go? All that time, only to have to start over again?" She smirked at me.

I tried not to move. When I looked down, I saw the fluid seeping from my cock, dripping onto my stomach. She followed my gaze, and arched an eyebrow. She reached down and gave a slow stroke along the length. I tried to move my hips away, only to make the plug nudge my sensitive spot deep inside. Oh no, I thought. I could start to feel some involuntary contractions.

"Ten!"

I let out a long, low moan and writhed on the bed. "No, no, no, no, no!" I begged. "That's not fair!"

"Would you like me to stop pumping?"

I nodded. "Yes, please, please, please. No more, I can't take any more, it's gonna split me open" I babbled. Every time I clenched my muscles to hold back, the plug nudged me a little more. I was on the edge of coming, and maddeningly without touching my swollen cock.

"I think that I'm going to leave you like this for a little while."

I looked up at her, pleading.

"But don't worry, I'm not going to pump any more, okay?"

I nodded, relaxing my tense body just a bit.

"Because it would be a real shame if you came now, with only," she looked at the clock, "an hour or so to go, wouldn't it?"

"Yes," I whispered, "thank you."

I closed my eyes and tried to focus. Breathe in. Hold. Yes, that's it. Breathe out. The contractions stopped. Breathe in. Hold. I was winning! Breathe out. I was regaining my control. Breathe in...

"Do you know what this is?"

I opened my eyes. She was holding an electronic control in her hand.

"Did I mention that it's a vibrating, inflatable butt plug?" She looked at me with mock sweetness, "I just put in fresh batteries. Let's see if they'll last for an hour."

Lovely Parting Gift

2006-12-11T22:44:00.000-05:00

Yeah, yeah.

Supposedly I won the damn car as a consolation prize.

Then supposedly "budget constraints" meant that I had to share the damn car with Bob.

Now the blog is down, the email has been cancelled, the electric bill has been ignored, and there's still no damn car.

All I've got is this stupid picture:

Of course, I have to admit... I stared at this picture for five minutes before I noticed that there was a damn car in the background.

infection nipple pie

2006-12-10T12:55:00.000-05:00

infection nipple pie ?

That was the first thing that popped up in the "Search" box in the Yourdomain.com page that has now captured the link for anyone trying to find "Sue Wears the Pants" or "suewearsthepants.blogspot.com".

Further investigation shows that the Search Text box was too short to display the "rcing", making the ending to Sue's blog appropriately as surreal as the manner in which she herself has maintained it for the last couple of months.

Before anyone expounds upon such well-reasoned theories as, for example, that Sue was actually a graduate art student and her blog was really her MFA project, allow me to repeat part of an email she sent to me, apparently just before she cancelled her email account:

"[...] I did go ahead and delete it. It just kind of ran its course. There are not many D/s blogs that people really update and I think I would have been better off having it listed as erotica and not D/s. Some of the people like yourself are really welcoming, others are not so kind.

"[...] I think your relationship and outlook are much closer to what many in long term relationships are experiencing rather than the “I whipped my slave for 30 minutes” posts.

"I wish you the best in your relationship and life."

And part of my response to her:

"I'm really very sorry to see you close things down; I was very sincere when I wrote elsewhere that you are one of the very few bloggers in this little corner of the world with a sense of humor - and more importantly - a sense of fun. One of the reasons that I *do* hang out in this area is because there are literally hundreds to thousands of internet searches for Femdom and D/s from men (and some women) who want just a *little* bit more than what they have, but are scared off - if not downright freaked out - by the more extreme stuff. I've been active on various sexuality groups for years, and I've had enough feedback to have ~~created an egotistical monster~~ convinced me that I can be helpful in presenting a responsible opposing viewpoint. Or at least, another, more workable perspective.

"Honestly, I've enjoyed your articles immensely, and I don't think I'm going to be the only one sorry to see you go. If you decide to put up another blog, please let me know - I'd really like my wife to see some more of your writing."

Sue, please stop by once in a while, especially when the rest of us are taking ourselves too seriously. And please know that you will be missed.

Best wishes to you and Ty for the holidays, and for your future happiness and good fortune.

The Friday Fantasy

2006-12-08T00:13:00.000-05:00

"Yes sir, these are our best cuffs. See how they have the extended material near the wrists? That's to keep your wrists from being damaged when being suspended. Would you like to try them on? Of course we have various accessories. For example, we often sell these with the heavy-duty snap hooks, capable of sustaining over 800 lbs of force."

"Oh, that screaming? Don't worry, this is the testing area, and in the room next door they're trying out one of those new electro-stim units. Here, let me take your jacket so you can move around more comfortably."

"As you can see, they are very comfortable, allowing your partner to stay suspended for a couple of hours. Yes, they are nice to look at, aren't they? Would these be for you or... ah, yes. I'm sure that your partner will be very pleased with them. Here, let's hook them up to the hoist so you can see how much weight they can take. Yes, they are quite comfortable, even on a big, strong man like you, sir. I imagine that your partner would have no trouble wearing these for a scene."

"No sir, I don't know why the screaming stopped next door. They must have finished testing already, and went to get another toy. But let's get you down and I'll show you some of those accessories for this set."

"I'm sorry, sir, I guess I must have jammed the hoist somehow. It should just take another minute to... damn! I can not beleive this; the little spring thingie seems to be stuck. No, I have no idea why, this has never happened before. I'll go get the manager, sir. I do apologize for the inconvenience. I'll be right back."

~~~~~~~~~

"I need some help, Julia. The friggin' hoist in room 3 is stuck again; do you have the little tool thingie to undo the ratchett? Mr. Allen has been hanging there for ten mintues. Oh, and Cat was playing with the new electro-stim in room 4, and I think it blew the circuit. That girl is out of control! I'll check the breaker while you find the tool."

"Oh Julia, I just saw that Dr. Digger guy on the floor in room 2, like he's passed out or something. And have you seen Cat? No? Well, I fixed the breaker, but I can't find Cat anywhere. Looks like she took the electro-stim with her. Did you find the tool for the hoist? No? Damn, Mr. Allen is going to be pi... Did you see that? The lights just dimmed! And... oh my god, who the hell is that screaming?"

Like I'd have trouble finding more than six...

2006-12-03T19:04:00.000-05:00

So, I'm minding my own business, just reading my favorite blogs and checking out unread links, when the email comes in:

Bonnie said...: sorry but you've been tagged
Blame Saratoga he started it LOL
Tom Allen said...: Bonnie, doesn't it count that Cat tagged me the other day with this very same meme?

I have a phobia about visiting the dentist - but it's motivated me to take fantastic care of my teeth so I don't have to worry about cavities, etc. I brush, floss, rinse, scrape, and clean way, way more than the average person. When I get my teeth cleaned they're always amazed at how little they need to do.
I love animals... outside where Mother Nature put them. I'm not a pet person, although I understand that people enjoy them. But I dislike zoos and circuses, and I don't like to see animals taught to do tricks. I feel badly for the Shamu trainer that got hurt, but for cryin' out loud kids - it's a killer whale. And frankly, I don't want the responsibility of taking care of an animal.
I get a touch of obsession when I'm first learning about something, especially if I find I'm enjoying it. I'll spend hours researching things so I can bring myself up to speed in a short amount of time. Likewise, if I have to visit a strange city on a trip, I'll dig up everything I can so I won't seem like a noob.
I'm one of those rare people that can have a cigarette once in a while without getting addicted. I'll have a few if I'm drinking with the guys. I might have a couple at work on coffee breaks. Interestingly, several other of my family members are like that as well. I don't understand how people get addicted to them, actually.
I rarely turn on the TV. The exceptions are usually when I'm home sick (rare) or to watch a Twilight Zone marathon, or a particular Sci-Fi or horror movie. For example, right now the family is out and I'm tuned into "Van Helsing."
Dark chocolate, if you please. Put me in a warehouse of milk chocolate, and I won't touch it. But Hershey's Special Dark? Or some of those slightly bitter Italian chocolates? I often get some at Xmas and will nibble a little bit every day for a few weeks.

Friday Fantasy

2006-11-30T23:53:00.000-05:00

"Oh please," I moaned, "no, no more..."

"You want me to stop?"

"Yes. No. Oh, dammitdammitdammit!"

We had cooked dinner, cleaned up, and she suggested that I take a nice shower before bed. "And make sure you shave for me," she admonished. I knew she wasn't talking about just my chin.

A half hour later I was restrained to the bed - arms and legs, a rarity. The nipple clamps had gone from painful to stimulating, and the couple of pillows under my head allowed me to watch her every move. Especially her every maddeningly slow stroke along my shaft. Every time I strained my hips upward, she'd back off.

Five times now she'd brought me right up to the edge, each time letting me believe that she would follow through.

Five times I settled back into the bed, each time more frustrated than the last.

"It's almost midnight. We've been at this two hours. I'm very impressed."

I looked at her, pleading. "Impressed enough to let me come?"

"How ready are you?"

I was dying. This is the longest she'd ever teased me this way. My balls were beyond sore, my cock was purple, my muscles were cramping from the contractions. "I'm ready. Please? Please? It's been so long since you allowed me to release."

"How long?"

"I... I think it's been over three weeks now."

"Oh, you've gone much, much longer than that. Three weeks shouldn't be very hard for you, now should it?" She gave me a firm squeeze to emphasize her point.

"Only three more minutes until midnight. Wouldn't it be wonderful to shoot a nice, big load right when the clock turns twelve?"

"Yes, yes, oh yesyesyes!"

She resumed stroking, ignoring my ragged moans. "Tell you what," she said, "I'd be a real bitch to deny you after working you up like this."

I nodded.

"So I don't think that I should deny you."

I nodded faster.

"And that's why I'm not going to deny you."

I stopped nodding. "I'm?"

She stopped her maddeningly slow stroking, and stretched her body over me, her nipples just out of reach of my mouth. Fumbling for a moment, she sat back down on the bed and held out a shiny object to me.

A quarter.

"Heads or tails?" she asked, smiling wickedly.

My First Tagging

2006-11-29T23:39:00.000-05:00

Oh, dammit.

This can't be happening to me, can it? I mean, this is "The Edge of Vanilla," for cryin' out loud! Sleek, slick, kinky and sexy. Good writing. Sex. Insightful articles. Kink. Poignant perspectives. Kinky sex. This isn't one of those MySpace ghetto blogs; this is an eclectic little corner bistro of a blog.

Damn, I can't believe I've been tagged!

Yeah, yeah, I know. I could ignore the call. I could turn it down. I could stick my nose in the air and walk away.

Oh, what the hell. After all, Cat tagged me, so how could I possibly refuse?

Besides, as bait, she's even promised to post a special HNT pic for me. Of course, I've been promised other things lately that I don't really expect to get.

Still waitin' for that car, Mistress Yunohoo.

Okay, here's the deal: Six random, wierd things about Tom Allen. Stuff you'd never guess. Stuff that I don't even tell my closest friends. But stuff that I'm going to tell you - my anonymous internet friends.

1) I'm really a 36 year old single mother from Charlotte, North Carolina...

Wait. What's that?

They had to be true things?

Uh...

1) About fifteen years ago I stopped listening to pop/rock stations and switched to talk radio. After a few more years, I pretty much stopped listening to the radio at all. I drive in silence, just gooving on my own thoughts. I sometimes need to take the long way home to finish them.

2) I'm a voracious reader. In fact, I have a 512m SD card in my Palm T3 that's always got a dozen E-books on it at any time. I read in the bathroom, waiting to pick up my pizza, wherever. And because of that, I can have a conversation on virtually any topic, which often surprises people who really should know me better by now.

3) Speaking of pizza, I'm one of the 87 people on the East Coast of the U.S. who likes anchovies on his pizza. Really. Anchovies, mushrooms, peppers on a thin crust. With a chilled Chianti or a light beer. On a lazy Sunday evening. In the summer.

4) I have a very dry sense of humor in real life. So dry that people often feel compelled to douse me with glasses of water.

5) I can build a computer from scratch, machine stainless steel valves, climb mountains, swim rivers, design and build furniture that looks like artwork. But please do not ask me to do anything with plumbing. I can't solder a joint. Go figure.

6) I studied a bit of Taoist and Tantric yoga when I was younger. I can have full-body orgasms, even without intercourse. Not as useful as, say, doing my own plumbing, but it makes me a fun date.

Thoughts on "Thoughts"

2006-11-28T23:32:00.000-05:00

Despite the aftermath of the Great Comment Fiasco in the Autumn of 2006, Ms. Susan herself has opted to comment on comments - to the delight of all nineteen of her most devout readers. To me, it's one of those self-referential "breaking the wall" situations, almost on the level of when Dilbert has a visitor from Family Circus, or when Jimmy Neutron gets zapped into the Fairly Oddparents world.

Yes, thirteen years of college have been wiped from my brain and I have been reprogrammed by Nickelodeon and the Cartoon Network. Anybody else out there have children, or is it just me?

Anyway, she left a comment on a comment on an article from last week that I wanted to comment on.

In her post, she writes:

"In reality because D/s or FemDom is just play to us right now. My “dungeon” consists of a paddle, some scarves, padded cuffs, feathers, lotions, vibrators and a blindfold. Pretty much standard bachelorette party stuff. We have added a collar which we both adore and some new elements to our play. Quick and quiet are usually two really important elements for us. The little erotic stories can be read to each other late at night. And yes they contain some real life elements:)

"For me as a woman the real benefit to sexual exploration is the intimacy I am able to share with Tyler. It started out as sharing fantasies but the intimacy has spread into other non sexual areas of our marriage. That was much needed."

In case anyone missed the subtext, Sue and Ty are using some D/s activities to enhance their enjoyment of each other. They are teasing each other with BDSM fantasies in order to enhance their level of intimacy.

In short, they are playing.

And you know what? I think that this is great! They are playing, having fun, enjoying each other, living in the stolen moments when they don't have to make breakfast, correct homework, do the grocery shopping or unclog the toilet. So it came as a bit of a disappointment to read her further thoughts on this:

"[...] I take every thing in proportion but the blogs and websites I was reading were Goddess This and Mistress That. After a while they become completely unrelatable to my life situation.

"I know there is an outlet for my thoughts; I’m just not sure it’s blogging or at least blogging about “playing” D/s."

That's sad.

What's even more sad, is that between the time I started writing this article this morning and now, Susan has deleted several of her well-written posts, and has again disabled the comments.

I suspect that, despite what she's written in the now hidden comments, it's because she really did not want me to win a car.

There are dozens of web logs in this community, and more dozens of web forums and internet groups in which many of the regular contributors are so damned serious. S/slash writing protocols. Capital Letters for Dom/mes and lower case for subs/slaves. Week long discussions defining the difference between subs and slaves. I/introspective R/retrospectives on the A/author's J/journey (and why is it always a journey? Why isn't it ever a trek or a voyage or an expedition?).

I've heard - all too often - the nervousness of the newbies who are concerned that they aren't doing something "right", as if there were some kind of performance review at the end of the quarter. Not long ago, a woman on a chastity group emailed me because she had questions on how to be a Domme the "right way." She was concerned that she was enjoying herself too much to be a "real Dominatrix." Another woman was concerned because she enjoyed the sensation of her husband orgasming inside her, and - based on what she'd read - believed that as a Domme she was not "allowed" to do that anymore.

Recently, Bonnie of Collars'n'Cuffs posted an interesting rant:

"So many on the blogger sphere try to tell newbie's and the committed to the lifestyle you must do this or that, this way in order to member of the Femdom Fan club. [...] I don't blame a lot of the blogger's for disappearing or hiding when the answer they give are not the answers the reader wants to hear. or they are burnt out from the derivative thoughts and opinions. [...] I get it now you have to fit the Femdom mould in order to belong. "

While I don't think that anyone has flat out told Susan that she's doing something wrong, I get the impression that like a T/traveler on a J/journey to a place that is enjoyable to visit she's absorbed some of the local color and wondering how she "fits" into an environment in which Ladies, Mistresses and Goddesses trade tips on edge play while naked subs and the great uncollared cavort at their feet - the better to give foot massages, of course. And I wonder if, like me, she hasn't thought that perhaps she's a bit out of place because she doesn't make a second career out of Femdomming.

I write "like me" because our own dungeon is a couple of drawers in a bedside nightstand. More than once I've looked in on the various BDSM web forums, having felt embarrassed to post amid the veteran scene players, and decided to merely lurk, instead of becoming an active or even semi-active participant. I'm not sure why I feel so nervous, especially as I've spent a lot of time on various web groups trying to assuage the concerns of the new & nervous. Indeed, when I'm not being snarky with the clueless, I am usually explaining that it's perfectly acceptable to just play and have a good time, that not only do they not need to follow any rules, but that they'll have even more fun by stretching their imagination and making up their own rules as they go along.

Or better perhaps, making up no rules at all.

Friday Fantasy

2006-11-24T12:10:00.000-05:00

Blogging memes are often annoying, perhaps because most of them are merely rehashed email memes. Those personal quizzes asking about your favorite color (blue or black) or which albums you'd take with you on a desert isle (Stop Making Sense - Talking Heads) have been done to death.

But...

A recent series of posts by Richard generated a little spark of curiousity - suppose we created a meme more tailored for adults, specifically, a more sexually themed meme? Not something in the 20 QUestions format, but perhaps something more readable, something to look forward to. We've already got HNT - Half-Naked Thursdays (which origins I've still not been able to pin down), so to wind us up for the weekend, perhaps something along the same lines might work.

Accordingly, I propose the "Friday Fantasy".

While graphic erotica is certainly appreciated, I'm thinking that perhaps - as in HNT - just a snapshot, a quickie paragraph or two outlining a desire, wish, or a current favorite. Maybe it's even something that you've done, or almost done. Or maybe it's a situation that started one way, but you wish it had gone somewhere else. Anything, as long as it's a description of something that grabs your interest.

For example...

We're laying on the couch watching a movie, Linda's legs up on my lap so I can rub her feet. The commercial break comes, and she turns to me, her eyes glinting. "The polish on my toenails is really chipped and cracked. I'd really love it if you removed the old stuff." Hurriedly, I gather up a towel, a bag of cotton balls, polish remover, and an emery stick. By the time the movie is back on, we're settled back into our positions, only I'm gently rubbing the wet cotton balls over her toenails. It takes a few minutes, but I manage to get the red out of the cracks and crevices. I dry them off, and although she didn't ask, I buff down the rough edges with the emery. Another commercial break makes me realize that I hadn't been paying attention to the movie at all. Soon, I'm rubbing a soothing lotion around her toes and feet.

By the time the movie ends, her feet have been rubbed and smoothed, and she's feeling relaxed. "C'mon," she tells me as she gets to her feet, "I've got some other areas that need attention, too."

Mixed Feelings

2006-11-17T16:46:00.000-05:00

I have mixed feelings upon discovering the events that unfolded over at Susan's blog during the last two days.

Anger.

Disgust.

Disappointment.

Discouragement.

Okay, sure... Susan is over her admittedly over-reaction; but that's not the point. She's a new blogger, perhaps a bit excited over the new Comments feature, happily posting away with the little birds of praise twittering in the background. Life, that is, the blogging life, to Susan is good: a loving husband, an enjoyable family, pleasant times, and she does what bloggers do - writes about the things on her mind, not all of which happen to deal with BDSM or even with sex.

Then the jackass brayed.

"i wuz lukin 4 bsdm sexx. u suk. were is it? u suk. i doont care abot buttrflyz. u suk. if my mom didnt need teh cumputer now id riite more abot how u suk."

And here's where I felt anger and disgust. I simply do not understand why some people believe that the anonymity of the Internet gives them rein to act in ways that would, in the "real world," cause them to be ostracized, and perhaps nursing a lump on their head in the process. How miserable does your own life have to be, how small minded are you, and how insecure in your personhood do you have to be in order to act in such a way?

More to the point, what is it about the sex blogs, forums, and other groups that seems to attract the most loutish of you? Have you no other outlet for sexual expression than a lopsided keyboard and a handful of petrolatum?

So Susan, having learned to appreciate the wine and not wanting to sully her vineyard with the dregs, turned off the Comment feature.

And that's a disappointment.

Blogging can be about self-expression, but how much better to express one's self in a community which encourages such expression? In which one can be introspective, but to also to explore ideas. To trade, as it were, thoughts and tips about the wine with our neighbors.

Susan has added something little seen in this area of the blog world.

A sparkling sense of humor.

In an area in which so many of us take our kink so damn seriously, Susan set up shop with the admission that this is not a full-time endeavor for her. Whereas so many of us have a dozen references to "O/our J/journey I/into D/s" (and for some of us it's a dozen a week), it's pleasantly refreshing to see that some people aren't making a lifestyle commitment to anything except having a little enjoyable sexual exploration.

You know. Fun.

And yes, I see that she's turned the Comments back on after a couple of days of mood swings, tears, introspection , and (an assumption based on my experience) probably some wine and a bit of chocolate.

But something that she wrote sticks in my mind, and herein lies the seeds of my discouragement:

"I simply wandered into a community/lifestyle where I did not belong."

How sad that Susan - witty, charming, funny, sensuous, and thoughtful - believes that it is she who doesn't belong in this community.

If not her, then who?

Supporting One's Self-Perception

2006-11-12T18:03:00.000-05:00

I subscribe to Psychology Today - you know, the magazine that does for Psychology and Sociology what Ladies Home Journal does for Feminism. While a lot of the articles are pap and only scratch the surface, sometimes I get a glimmer of an insight. This month, there is an article on "friendship", which carries the following blurb:

The conventional wisdom is that we choose friends because of who they are. But it turns out that we actually love them because of the way they support who we are.

This makes me wonder about other aspects of ourselves, more specifically our love or romantic relationships. Do we do the same thing when looking for a partner; that is, do we tend to pick our romantic partners based on how they support our self image?

I can easily see how this works with a lot of relationships. If we think of ourselves as teachers, we tend to surround ourselves with people who enjoy learning from us. If we tend to think of ourselves as not worthy of respect, we might find a partner who treats us accordingly. But... does a change in our perception of ourselves - who we believe ourselves to be - one of the causes for a loss of intimacy?

I'm thinking about the seemingly inevitable differences in libido after several years together. Do we evolve into different people such that our partners no longer support our self-perceptions (and we no longer support theirs)? I've been reading a lot of blogs by people who are in bad, deteriorating, or otherwise miserable relationships - and almost all of them show a pattern in which they feel a distinct lack of intimacy with their partners. I'm not talking specifically about sexual intimacy, although that is also a widespread complaint. And after reading the blogs and comments, I'm sure that I'm not the only one to ask why it seems that Low Libido people always seem to get matched up with the High Libidos? Underlying many of the words of support on the Comments sections of the desperate and hurting is the not-always unspoken wish: "Wanna trade?" My question is what happened along the way? What else changed besides ten years, three kids, and two cars to make people grow so far apart? And after reading this article, I started to wonder if there isn't some principle that can be applied to love relationships.

I realize that I've been thinking about this subject for most of the week, and for some reason I can't get my thoughts on this to be coherent enough to set down. I think I'm just going to let this one sit for a bit and then come back to it later.

A Scene in the Vineyards

2006-11-10T15:00:00.000-05:00

I can't possibly comment on this, for I have not the words. Or rather, I have the words, but reading her latest post has shamed my tongue into uncharacteristic silence, if not paralysis.

Droll. Stirring. Amusing. Satirical. Insightful.

Damn good.

But don't take my tongue-tied word for it; go read for yourself.

Me? I'm going to sit in my shed and contemplate the grapes for a spell.

The Grapes of Domme

Incompatible Defense*

2006-11-08T11:26:00.000-05:00

Inspired by one of my last ramblings about coming out to my wife about my BDSM kink, slave2Catwoman left a comment in which he wrote:

I applaud your courage to finally talk to your wife. You did it the right way, too. You showed her the aspects that would benefit her, not just the leather and dungeon stuff. In time, she may come to enjoy those things as well.

I am always amazed at the way men will date and actually marry women who are totally sexually incompatible with them. It seems to me to be a horrible folly. Yet countless men fall into this trap.

Yeah, well, the first part had to be done or I was going to have what they used to call "a nervous breakdown." I was not sleeping, was depressed, and felt physically ill most of the time. We'd had a long period in our marriage in which I could not even discuss vanilla sex, let along anything else. It took a separation and more before we could at least begin to discuss things.

But that's not the point I wanted to make today. Rather, I wanted to address the second part - the concept that so many of us end up with incompatible partners.

Personally, I think that hardly anyone considers their partner to be "incompatible" when they meet and date for a while. Some people manage to hit it off well right from the start, and can discuss their feelings and interests with regard to sex. Others need to feel more secure in their relationship as a whole; lest we forget, sex is not the entirety of our relationship, that's why we see so many couples with incompatible sex lives who are still together.

I think that many people believe that the initial excitement of dating will last forever, and so never give much thought to the eventual leveling off of libido. And some for some people, that libido will drop off fairly quickly into the relationship - but often after their partner is satisfied that their level is sufficient enough. If the five-times per week part of the relationship lasts for a few months, the partner with the higher libido will assume that things are going to be fine, and may in fact interpret a once-per-week spell as simply a setback, and not as the natural level. It's a constant subject of study for psychologists to understand why it seems that the security of marriage or long-term partnering seems to lead to a drop in frequency.

But people with kink leanings have one other obstacle to overcome: if they are embarrassed by or do not understand their own desires, then it will be difficult to bring them up for discussion with a partner. Worse, if they they have attempted discussion and were met with a real or imagined negative reaction from their partner, then it will be even more difficult for them to bring it up the next time.

Unfortunately, Western culture has a schizophrenic attitude about sexuality; we treasure it highly, but find it difficult to discuss because we're taught that it's impolite. Often, we lack even the syntax with which to discuss even the basics, let alone anything kinky. How often do you hear adults describe their genitals in terms of "down there" instead of using actual words? How many euphemisms do we have for various sex acts? And how many of those euphemisms are couched in language that is sarcastically humorous or downright degrading? Booty call? Doing the nasty? Parking the sausage bus in tuna town?

Ugh. Have any of us really progressed beyond Junior High School?

So here we have:
a) people who feel embarrassed to discuss their sexuality,
b) people who don't have the terminology to discuss their sexuality,
c) people who don't have enough sex drive to even want to discuss their sexuality.

Makes you wonder why we have so many couples who actually do so well at it.

Since I spend a lot of time reading relationship blogs, I run across interesting perspectives on couples who are mis-matched. I found this on Unsolicited Advice, one of the (seemingly) several dozen blogs by Digger Jones. While not specifically targeted for the kink-inclined, this brings up some good points that should not be overlooked.

Top 10 Ways of Identifying a LL Partner

Here's my TOP 10 ways to identify a Low Libido (LL) person...

First off, the odds of landing a LL guy or a guy who will have a substantial low libido problem at some point in your relationship is about 20%, which is way higher than most folks think. This is based on some of the research I've read. Sorry I don't have the citations, but check the Journal of Marital and Family Counseling for starters.

FYI, the odds of landing a similarly LL wife (or one that will turn out LL) for the guys is 60% based on the same research. Give or take 5%.

While predicting who is and who isn't going to be LL is difficult, I have seen some common themes from being on the low libido board for 5+ years. A Low Libido (LL) person typically:

1. Has no time or inclination towards sexual topics, items or subjects. This could be porn, lingerie, certain T.V. shows, books, pictures, etc. It does nothing for them, or precious little. If this is true for your guy, beware. Double beware if they are turned-off and disgusted by any or all of the above. Porn is controversial, but guys are generally more accepting and responsive.

2. Has no sexual fantasies. This is huge and consistent. Most of us, when we ask our LL spouses what their sexual fantasies are, they report that they don't really have any. Or have very few or something very tame, like sex in a water bed or something. Not all fantasies have to come true (like three-somes) but sexually healthy people do have fantasies and have them on a regular basis. They don't have to work on thinking about sex. To a high libido person, thinking and fantasizing are as natural as gravity.

3. Thinking, talking and having sex is a chore. Generally, LL folks lose energy when they have to relate on a sexual level, and they tire of it easily and quickly. HL generally gain energy as the level of sexual tension increases. Sex increases the well-being of people with high sexual thresholds, and not having sex bothers and hurts them on many, many levels.

4. Low libido people are generally easily and quickly satiated. Read an article below concerning LL from a sensory integration framework for more detail. In a nutshell, after having sex, the LL person will be satisfied for a longer period of time. They get irritated in a major way if they just finish having sex (meaning it was just an hour, a day, a week or even a month ago) and their partner tries to initiate again too soon. For HL folks, the more they have, the more they seem to want.

5. The LL person will generally have more boundaries and limitations on sexual practices. There are a slew of us on here who have partners who refuse to have oral sex with us. Some are okay with giving and more are okay with receiving, but it is almost universal that our LL partners will have some aversion to oral sex in some way. Or in any way, as in the case with my DW. The absence of variety and kinkiness may relate to the dearth of a fantasy life for LL people. 69ing is not a regular component of the menu for any of us HL CL folks.

6. Kissing. There are a bunch of us who have partners who refuse to give us open-mouthed or long, deep, passionate kisses. If your fiance isn't looking for your tonsils (in apparent sexual frustration) I'd be concerned. But that's just me.

7. Initiating. This is also a sore spot, as most HL people on this board complain that if they don't initiate, nothing is going to happen. Or they have given up, simply because they have been turned down so often. The LL partner generally initiates on an infrequent basis, if at all.

8. Talking about sex is different. The LL partner generally talks about "giving it up" or "giving the person sex" or "giving in", and refers to the other partner as the one "getting it" as in "I just gave you some (last month), and I can't believe you are interested in getting it again!" While the HL person may use similar language, such as "Pleeeze?! Can I pleeeeze have a little somethin'?" They are more likely to refer to it as a shared experience. The HL partner's fantasy includes being with someone who truly enjoys being with them, finds them sexually exciting, really, really wants to jump their bones and responds with lust, desire and passion. All of these components indicate a more shared experience from the HL standpoint. Our partners frequently view it from the standpoint of enduring it and wanting to get it over with.

9. Sex is not worth the effort. Often there are many obstacles to having sex, including work, schedules, physical stress, children, intramarital tensions and other factors that make sex a goal that seems far away. For the LL person, there is a very finite amount of energy that should be expended towards sex. If there are conflicts or obstacles, sex quickly gets put on the back burner. Circumstances sometimes warrant this, but the HL partner will almost always find ways of overcoming or working around these obstacles. The LL person will allow circumstances control and ultimately crowd out time, energy or thoughts of sex. They are often too tired for sex. The HL is more often too tired of NOT having sex!

10. Hostility towards discussing the topic. Generally, the LL folks regard having to discuss the clashing libido issue as pressure, which leads to #9. They will generally avoid the subject and definitely avoid discussing the problem or deny that there is one at all. Included in this is shifting responsibility back to the other partner. The problem should be a shared concern, not just a matter of fixing one person or the other. Chances are, both partners have contributed and both need to be involved in mending the relationship.

============

I don't have much to add to this, except to say that it's easy to see how some of these items apply in relationships in which there is a kink imbalance. Particularly appropriate is item No. 5 - if your partner tends to avoid conversations about introducing kink to your relationship, or in fact becomes openly hostile, then that should be a large red flag. I would even suggest that subtle attempts to make you feel ashamed or embarrassed, such as referring to BDSM as “sick” or “perverted”, or affecting scorn at the idea, or referring to the desires as “your problem” are also signs that your partner will likely maintain that attitude when you are long into the “comfort and security” part of your relationship.

* The title of the post refers to a joke in an old "Beverly Hillbillies" episode.
Uncle Jed Clampett was describing why the did not need a sophisticated alarm system back on the farm, and explained to Mr. Drysdale that it was the "Incompatible Defense." When questioned by the banker, Jed answered "If you come in to pat the bull, then you is going out over dee fence!"

Okay, it was funny when I was eight.

When Someone You Love is Kinky - 3

2006-10-27T13:59:00.000-04:00

I've been writing on the period in our marriage when I finally explained to my wife that I could no longer keep some of my desires for kink and other sexual intimacy buried. At the time I was writing extensively in various web groups, and I was surprised at the amount of email that I received not merely from fellow group members, but from people I didn't even know. The messages were both supportive and questioning, with a number of men (and some women) asking me how I managed to work up the courage to tell her, and if I had any tips to pass along. When you think about it, this is both funny and sad - how many people consider a person with only a single experience to be an expert?

This is from a conversation a few weeks after I made the post that I quoted in my last article:

"I read your "Kinky - Part Two" message today. I'm happy for you. Can you provide specifics that finally led you to giving the book to your wife? Before and after scenarios I guess. I've been married for 12 years and I just can't get my wife to understand some of my needs sexually. I'd really like to know more detail about what you communicated and what she has delivered and how you made it all happen."

My response:

I'm not sure how much info I can give that will be useful. That is, I don't know what your marital situation is, but my wife and I were separated for almost a year, and she knew that I might not come back. It's not just a kink thing that caused the rift, either, but sexuality issues were certainly in there.

On my part, I explained that there were several "pillars" that supported my life, and that I was in a position in which none of them were working. In no particular order, I counted Sexuality, Intimacy, Finances, Career, and Lifestyle. You can see how they'd all be related somewhat, and I pointed out that if two or three of them were in working condition, then I might have been able to get by; but in the latter part of our marriage I felt as if none of them were okay. We hadn't had any intimacy in so long that she'd actually forgotten what I was talking about when I told her that it was missing. Sexuality was a big issue for me, and because we didn't have the intimacy with which to discuss it, that made it loom much larger than it needed to be. The lack of intimacy also led to poor communication about our lifestyle and the spending that seemed to go along with it, which impacted my career choice.

Are you with me so far?

All that being said, I think that you're really asking for some tips on how to get your wife to understand your needs. How intimate are you already? Can you talk frankly and openly about what turns you on? Do you go out of your way to do things that you know that she likes? Do you even know what she likes? Sometimes it's so sad to realize that after a dozen years, a couple of kids, and a whole bunch of things in between that we are still living with a stranger.

FWIW, I told my wife that I've had these desires since I was a preteen, and that I've always had some mental component that I've added to sex. Not necessarily a fantasy, more like mentally setting a tone or a mood or atmosphere. I asked her to read this particular book. There are others, of course, depending on what your ideas are. Since my kinks tend mostly toward female domination, I pointed her to websites that I thought were good and basic, not wanting to scare the hell out of her. www.akashaweb.com is very good; a little cluttered, but I cribbed her "Good Girl's Guide to Female Domination", and printed it out along with pages from several other sites. She read those after she read "Someone... Kinky", but in the middle of reading, she and I were already talking.

On her end, she decided that if it was that big a part of my life, she would at least invest some time in trying to understand it. To her credit, she didn't "turn off" or dismiss the web images and readings as sick, perverted, or try to impose some kind of moral judgment on the activities (which she had done in the past). That being said, I also didn't make any demands on her to do anything more than listen. I told her several times that I wasn't even sure what I expected from her at this point, I only wanted to tell her what I was feeling and then we'd take it from there.

Now, understand that if you believe, as I do, that our sexuality is "wired" into us, some women are just going to have a more difficulty than others in understanding, let alone accepting this. Wiring, cultural mores, public opinion, religious upbringing, attitudes of friends and family, etc., will all have an impact on how your wife (and you, yourself) are going to both perceive things, and to integrate them. My wife didn't rush out to get that leather catsuit, but she was able to integrate certain aspects into her general persona.

Here's something that came out in conversation with her: She often felt "pressured" to have sex, even though I don't ever remember having done so. She used to get upset if I'd snuggle her or kiss her neck while she was cooking or reading or something. For some reason, she interpreted any affection as a signal for sex, so the more (gently) affectionate I tried to be, the more she felt pressured. She's trying to get over that feeling now, and she's using some of what she now knows about me to help. Would she like a warm oil massage a half hour before bed, without feeling pressured to have sex? No problem. Foot rub? Shoulder rub? A glass of wine? Coming right up, dear. See, we're "playing" with the idea that I'll do things for her with a guarantee that she'll never have to feel pressured, that she is, in fact, now in complete control of that situation. So for her, this works because it takes the sense of pressure out of the equation, for me, it works because I can add components that mesh with my kinks. For example, I used to say that foreplay could be a 24/7 arrangement. Now it is, because I never know when she'll want to have sex, but that doesn't stop me from being affectionate and intimate, and for her, it's a thrill to keep me guessing as to when she'll want it, but she's certainly enjoying the attention.

I'm not sure if this is any help to you; there wasn't any one thing that I remember saying that made it come together for her, I suspect that she herself has a few kinks and what we're doing just seemed to mesh well. If you remember some of my previous writings, there were any number of times that I've tried to get her to understand where I was on sexuality, and she just didn't seem to "get it". So why now? I don't know. Neither does she. I'm not going to spend much time trying to analyze that though, instead, we're going to focus on how to keep our new model of communication open and functioning so that it doesn't happen again.

The only thing that I can add is that you'll need to talk more intimately with your wife, perhaps for a few months. Consider therapy, if need be. And keep in mind that you've got some kind of ideas that you've been carrying around in your head for years, but she doesn't, so you've got to find some way to present them as something that will push her buttons.

The Curious Incident of the Blog in the Night

2006-10-16T19:29:00.000-04:00

The storm over the disappearance and apparent hijacking of Candace's blog "Woman Rules Roost" has abated and now that Candace seems to have resurfaced on the FLR forums, the blogworld will eventually forget the tempest in a teapot - partly because the virtual world has a short memory, if not attention span; and partly because some of us are not going to dwell on our theories explaining her abandonment of not only herblog , but of the FLR/Femdom community. I confess to having had my own ill-founded explanation that proved just as wrong as the idea that she was masquerading as either another blogger, a man, or an academic researcher. Frankly, I'm glad that she proved to be just a person who realized that she was losing the focus on the relationship while letting the blog itself direct her attentions.

But that said, I don't really want to write about Candace or her blog per se. Oh, I did want to a couple of weeks ago, but social obligations, marriage and family life, and the bete noir of actually needing to run a business have kept me from writing much of anything in the last month except a few sparse comments on other blogs. But since her reported appearance (and I want to note that I am not a member of that forum, but do not have any reason to doubt the several people who have purported to have read her posts), I've taken a step back to think about not Candace herself, but about the overall phenonemon. In the last three months I've seen posts and articles about Candace in which the tone has ranged from the high praise usually reserved for poet laureates, to outright scorn. She's moving too quickly along the Femdom road to be real. She's moving too slowly. She's a model for all other women. She's not a true domme. She should cuckold her husband. She's obviously monogamous. She should put him in chastity. She should deny him sexually. Etc., etc.

Even more interesting have been the comments I've read since her blog was hijacked after a couple of weeks of inactivity. "Textual integrity" and "emotional realism" are the ones that have stuck in my mind over the last couple of weeks, probably as a result of some misspent youthful years in graduate school where such terms were bandied about regularly over late-night coffees. Additionally, a number of people who had probably not given it much thought suddenly found themselves wondering if they'd been duped or somehow cheated; as if a well-written blog implied a certain trust that had been shattered. Furthermore, the growing attitude of doubtfulness about her "reality" spawned a question that I don't think anyone really asked:

What does it really matter?

While a few of us in the virtual world may interact with others in real life, the overwhelming majority of us will never see, hear, taste or touch one another. We are all real only in the virtual sense; and because the blogging and forum worlds are still essentially a print, i.e., textual medium, then we all have the "reality" of Madame Bovary, "O", or by way of further example, Sherlock Holmes. That is, without any physical attributes to consider, we - out of expediency or otherwise - invest a certain amount of emotional reality into all of our online acquaintances. I don't, however, see this as necessarily a bad thing overall. We, as a culture, have always imbued characters - real, historic, or literary - with qualities and characteristics that we ourselves idealize. We identify with them, or sometimes with the people who interact with them; but we process the stories about them with the assumption that they could be alive, perhaps sitting next to us.

Sir Arthur Conan Doyle wrote the Sherlock Holmes stories as serials in the Strand magazine for almost fifteen years. He grew tired of the detective stories, believing that they kept him from more serious endeavors, and so arranged to "kill" Holmes in an encounter with arch-nemesis Professor Moriarty at Reichenbach Falls in Switzerland. Immediately, he and the magazine were flooded with angry letters from people who were appalled, hurt, saddened by the "death" of so great a man. One woman wrote, calling him, Doyle, a "murderer." Yes, on one hand it would be easy to dismiss this as the cognitive dissonance of the clueless, but who among us hasn't had similar - albeit lesser - emotional reactions to books or films? Anyone who has read "The Yearling" or "Old Yeller" as a child must remember the sad scenes even today. Likewise, we've all probably seen films with very positive or upbeat endings which found us leaving the theaters feeling energized and motivated. At no time do we stop ourselves in the action to remind ourselves, "Oh, it's only a movie, there's no point in feeling anything."

Over the last several months people - us - left comments on Candace's blog, read and responded to comments she left on other blogs, and even discussed her, her blog, and her relationship in our own blogs. We acted as if she were real, because to us - the FLR/Femdom blogging world - she was real. As far as I know, up until a few weeks ago nobody suggested that she - or anyone else, for that matter - was actually a grad student working on a project, or that WRR really was being written by other well- or lesser-known bloggers . Then suddenly a mysterious disappearance and we feel... what? After reading some of the discussions and comments, for some reason I'm reminded of a passage from an old Kurt Vonnegut novel in which the author writes something like, "The people, having been promised nothing, felt cheated, having received nothing."

I will admit to being sad, and maybe a little frustrated that Candace completely took the blog down. It is my contention that while there are plenty of resources for people already involved with the BDSM community, there are precious few that address the needs of those balancing on the edge of vanilla and peering over into the abyss. Woman Rules Roost is - was - one of the few examples of a woman writing about her own experience and exploration as she tries to make sense of an alternative sexuality, and indeed begins to come to grips with the concept of taking her own pleasure out of doing so, instead of merely catering to the whims of her partner.

Most of the blogs that I've read are written from perspective of the male submissive or bottom - perhaps because a desire to "submit" to pain, humiliation, orgasm denial, or other sexual domination seems to run counter to what we perceive as "normal" (or at least, "typical") in our culture. I have also noticed that virtually any woman who blogs or posts to other forums populated by submissive men almost immediately will gain following, including half a dozen men who will ask her how they might get their own wife to be more dominant . I've often wondered about the economics of this, as it seems that there are many more submissive men than there are dominant women.

Regardless, there are all too few resources for couples wishing to explore these avenues that are written in a fashion that allows the readers to feel safe and comfortable. Candace offered up an example of D/s that was very safe; a Femdom "lite"; and for those who read her somewhat introspective tales, one developed the "feeling" that she was a real person. It was easy to imbue her with an emotional reality because she had qualities that one could easily imagine in one's self. Real or not, with the demise of Woman Rules Roost, there is now one less resource, and those of us on that vanilla edge are that much more diminished.

LFA = Loving Fundie Authority

2006-09-26T17:03:00.000-04:00

I've been reading over some of the messages from several of the mailing lists and web groups that focus on certain aspects of D/s, notably the groups dealing with chastity and orgasm control. I've mentioned that over the last several years this has become one of my interests, although I'm not quite sure how it happened. Anyway, I and several others are usually on hand to answer some of the more technical questions that, er, arise.

Over the last couple of years, I have noticed that there is a certain class of response (or perhaps better to say a class of respondent) that shows up, usually right after a newbie voices a concern about wearing a device. I used to ignore this particular class of response, but lately I seem to see them popping up all over - and not specifically in the chastity groups. I'm not sure if this is a new thing, or if they have always been there and I'm simply noticing it more because it's similar to that phenonemon in which, for example, after you buy a red car you suddenly notice just how many red cars are on the road.

Let me give a more specific example. I recently read a message from someone who had introduced his girlfriend to the CB3000, and they've been playing with it on and off for several months. He wears it on weekends, or sometimes at work for a day or so, maybe up to several days at a time. She removes it and they have sex, and maybe she'll put it back on, or wait a day or maybe until later in the week. In other words, it's a new thing for them and they have been having a good time playing.

Now, he writes, she's suddenly getting really into it and wants him to wear it 24/7; she has told him that he might have to go for a week or two without orgasm, and that she'd like to work him up to going a month or more. He's nervous; like a lot of men, he's pretty well accustomed to several orgasms a week, either with a partner or not. He is worried about wearing the device 24/7 for both technical and emotional reasons. The technical problems - keeping it clean, getting used to the 4 a.m. erections, using it at work - are fairly easy to deal with, more so because he'd already been using the device.

More of a problem, though, is the emotional roller coaster that ensues when one chooses to allow another to make all of the sexual decisions. While he's happy that his girlfriend is taking an active role in their sex life, he's concerned about how he'll cope with the frustration. What if she gets "too far" into this? He's never been more than a few days without an orgasm, how will he manage to cope with a week or more? What if she makes him go two months? What if she doesn't remove the cage at all? How will he be able to control his frustration?

Now, these concerns are typical for people into this particular lifestyle, understandably so. He was asking, quite simply, "How do I cope with the emotions of excitement and frustration as I turn over this portion of my sexuality to my girlfriend?" Yet some of the responses posted to his message were, in my opinion, particularly unhelpful. Typical replies were comments like:

"You don't get any say in this, it's all your girlfriend's decision."
"Just get used to it and be thankful you get to lick her pussy."
"You're just a lowly male and should not be questioning the wisdom of the SUPERIOR FEMALE."
"Why are you even asking? You should never have any say in being released."
"Your desires don't count anymore, it's all about what SHE wants."
"Think you're complaining now? What are you going to do when she throws away the key and cuckolds you with other studs?"

At first, I just blew those remarks off as probably coming from the Clueless Subbie Types that don't have their own partners. But then I began to look at this type of response from a different perspective; taken one at a time they were easy to dismiss, but when seen in a group they presented a different message:

"That's the way it is."
"Your desires are not important."
"Who are you to question authority?"

Where have I heard those messages before? The first thing that came to mind was hearing this message at church; God wants you to do (or not do) this. Don't ask questions, just give yourself over. Of course, I've also heard that message as a youngster in school, at various jobs, and from both major political parties. It's the war cry of the Fundamentalist.

While it would be easy to pick on religious fundies, the fact is that virtually every interest group seems to develop a cadre of those who prefer to see strict adherence to seemingly endless sets of rules - and the more rules, the better. And while it would also be easy to pick on the Gor groupies, at least they let you know right up front that they have all sorts of rules. No, the fundies that worry me are the ones who have a set of rules made up only in their own heads and can't understand why everyone else is not following the same script.

As I went back to read those unhelpful responses to various other messages, a pattern began to emerge. Apparently, in the Fundamentalist Femdomme world all men are inferior creatures, and all WOMEN (note the capital letters - that's always an important clue) are SUPERIOR to men in every way and men should learn their place. But some other rules emerge as well:
Men should never be allowed an orgasm, unless at the permission of the SUPERIOR FEMALE and usually by some painful and/or humiliating methods. Orgasm inside a SF is to be a rare and appreciated gift. Oral sex is the preferred manner for men to give pleasure to the SF, and should never be reciprocated. Oh, and men should be made to wear women's underwear to add to their daily humiliation - although I can't seem to understand why wearing the apparel of the SUPERIOR partner would be humiliating. But that's a topic for another day.

In other words, if you want to play in the "kinky" or the "femdom" sandbox, then it's all or nothing.

I don't understand what causes people to be attracted to fundamentalism, nor do I understand the motivation to impose these viewpoints on people who are obviously not playing in the same sandbox, let alone in the same game. In my earlier example, here we have a young couple that is obviously having a good time playing together; I can't even imagine what he must have thought in reading those kinds of responses to his concerns.

Even more interesting, and in retrospect perhaps a bit disturbing, is that nobody called these Femdom Fundies to task for their responses. Nobody said "Hey, lighten up, he's a newbie," or Dude, chill out - they're just getting started," or even "It's nice that you have your desires, but please don't impose your kinks on someone else."

I didn't call them on it, either, and I confess that until very recently the thought to do so hadn't even occurred to me. I now wonder how many people, new to either a BDSM lifestyle or simply new to some kind of kink play have read the various "Thou shalt not" pronouncements and thought to themselves how strange that a group that is outside of the "vanilla mainstream" mirrors some of the worst qualities of that world.

When Someone You Love is Kinky - 2

2006-09-15T00:28:00.000-04:00

This is the second part in a series, describing how I finally brought out my desires and thoughts on kink to my wife, and some of the ways in which it affected our relationship.

What follows is an reworked version of something written for another group, but which seems particularly appropriate to post here. This took place about three years ago, several months after my previous article. We had been in couples therapy for about eight months at the time this was written.

Four or five months ago, I had brought up that I wanted to give Janet Hardy's book to my wife, but I had some concerns that she would use this kind of information as leverage in visitation with my daughter (we'd been separated for the better part of a year). Over the last couple of months, we've been able to get a lot of the issues on the table, including certain issues about trust. I brought up my concerns about her using my desires for some kink and other "sexual creativity" against me in that respect, and it's led to some good conversations.

A few weeks ago, we realized that we were at a point in counseling where we were kind of stuck. I admitted in therapy that I have some issues that I've been hesitant to bring up, and since I really hate it when somebody drops a bomb and just sits there, I figured that I should do something about it. So that weekend, I arranged a sitter and we went out for dinner. We had a nice time, went back to my apartment for a bit, and finally I bit down on the bullet and came out with it.

I explained that I couldn't do the plain vanilla routine any longer, that there were things that I had fantasized about for a long time but have had to keep buried, and how much living a secret life inside my head has affected our relationship. I gave her the book, having highlighted some sections that I thought were relevant.

To her credit, she didn't freak; instead she took a moment to digest things, and I allowed her to ask me questions on that subject. First, she said that she knew that it was something huge that I was about to drop on her, and she had been wondering if
I was going to tell her that I was gay. Then we got into the serious questions. She asked if it meant that I expected to dress in leather all the time, if I liked pain, did I want to involve other people, animals, or what. In other words, she pretty much brought up all of the stereotypes that are constantly displayed in the movies and on TV. I was sweating like crazy by this time, and I did my best to answer things as openly and as honestly as possible.

For the next few days, we talked. And talked. And then talked some more. For me, it was a huge relief to finally get that off my chest, and I answered all questions and pointed her toward as much web information as I could find (I had already marked some of the "softer" femdommish sites, along with other kink information). On her part, she took some initiative and checked out some of the web resources listed in the back of the book, something that I didn't think that she would actually do on her own. Finally, she asked me if she should take a knot-tying course, and after a good laugh we started to get into some serious discussions as to what it meant for the relationship as a whole. As a good part of my kink runs to D/s and female dominant fantasies, I copied several excellent web sites and printed them out for her to read. She took some time to try to understand why I like certain things, quite different from a year or two ago when she was dismissive, if not downright critical. She told me how she felt about things, and I gave her every opportunity to discuss her concerns.

Understand that this talking did not all take place in one night, nor even in one week. This was several weeks of talking between work and children and other social responsibilities. We made as much time as possible to talk, though, which was important to me because for years I had been the one to complain that we never had any intimate time. And I want to stress that probably for the first time since we were married I felt as if she was actually interested in what I had to say, and she really seemed to work hard at trying to understand what I was trying to say. I covered more than just sex, of course, but I tried to express everything in the context of needing a different way to relate, both sexually and intimately.

One night, we were in the middle of making love, and we talked about sexual things - turn-ons, scenes, likes, dislikes, etc., when my wife began to open up and describe something that we had done a few years back that used to push her "hot" button; and for reasons she couldn't explain, even though she enjoyed it in the past, she had always felt hesitant to bring it up again. On my part, since she never brought it up, I figured that she was politely avoiding the issue so as not to embarrass me. As we talked about it, it seemed that it could be a nice introduction into D/s play for both of us. It involved a little bit of equipment (always a turn-on for me), and it involved her taking some control over me (something that turned her on), and something that could be done discreetly enough so that she could ease into it to see if she felt comfortable with the idea. Sounded like a win-win scenario to both of us at the time.

And that's how the next day found me wearing a chastity device.

It was something that I had built several years earlier, having seen pictures of some bulky contraptions on several other websites. Since I own a small machine shop, it was fairly easy for me to build something more customized. We used it several times for anywhere from a long weekend to a couple of weeks, but we never talked about what we were doing or how we were feeling about it, and never went back to discuss what we thought after a period was finished. On my part, since most other discussion about sex seemed to be met with disinterest, I figured that it was just some quirk of hers, and was always too embarrassed to bring it up again. She still can't describe why she wouldn't bring it up herself.

We played with it for a day or two, and in the course of talking, I mentioned that there was a new model on the market (the CB3000 had just come out a few months earlier). She looked at the website and decided that we needed to order one. I got a little embarrassed and explained that I'd already bought one a couple of months earlier, just because it seemed like such a cool thing. It was back at my apartment, where I'd wear it at night or on weekends. "You've got to go get it," she said, and the next day I picked it up after work and showed her how it worked. She seemed thrilled, and kept touching the device, even after it was on.

Suffice it to say that the entire concept of taking control of my/our sex life became a huge turn-on for her, and since then she's been almost insatiable about it. In fact, it's been working so well for her, and she seems to be enjoying herself so much that I have stopped asking if she's going along for my benefit, and started wondering if she's going to outpace me. I'm sure that this won't last, but I'm enjoying the little honeymoon period for now.

That being said, we both understand that there are other issues in our relationship that may not work out quite so easily, however we also understand that we can approach those kinds of issues in the same manner: by being honest and not assuming that the other is thinking or wanting something without checking it out first.

I'm sure that there's a lesson here someplace...

Now, I know that there are quite a few readers who have been in circumstances similar to mine, and who have questions about my wife and I handled this. Understand that I do not believe that everyone would respond in the same way. However, I do want everyone to understand that, especially in a relationship of five, ten, twenty years, that your partner has as much at stake in the relationship as you do!

Go back and read that again. I think that most of us - myself included - have (or have had) a very difficult time understanding this point. We've invested a lot of time and energy into our relationship, which is often whey we're afraid to bring up kink in the first place: we're afraid that in doing so we risk losing the love of our partner. Worse, I think that some people begin to believe that their partner will be all too ready to toss five or even twenty-five years of a relationship out the window; and what holds them back from explaining their desires to their partner is the fear that their partner really doesn't care enough to accept them.

That's a horrible thought to live with, isn't it?

No matter what you think her (or his) reaction will be, once you've finally gotten over the fear of talking about your desires and concerns, it's possible that you will discover that your partner loves you enough to accept those things in you. And if they can't accept them, then it's better for your own mental health to get on with dealing with the solid facts, rather than the ambiguous and indeterminate fears.

When Someone You Love is Kinky - 1

2006-09-15T00:27:00.000-04:00

I've been reading several blogs (notably Jamie's) in which the writers express some concern about bringing up their long-held desires, be they for D/s, LFA, or some femdom play. Several people have remarked that it was the hardest thing that they've ever needed to talk about with their partners, and from personal experience, I'd have to agree. Those of us who have had to wrestle with feeling guilty over these desires have probably walked that conversation through in our minds hundreds, perhaps thousands of times, and each time imagining our partner reacting with shock, revulsion, or even indifference - which kept us from bringing it up in real life. Even the trial balloon method of casual mentions, or pointing to TV or movie character or situations probably were met with ambiguous responses, making us hesitant to pursue the subject further for fear of being too pushy.

My own experience in this is mixed. I've known I was kinked since I was a young teen, and often had general fantasies of bondage and instruments of delicious torture wielded by deliciously cruel women (the term "Dominatrix" didn't come into my vocabulary until my mid-teens) clad in leather and tight spandex. I was in my very late teens or early twenties before I had a girlfriend who was interested in experimenting with these and other fantasies; we both enjoyed them immensely, and I was forever hooked.

After that college romance ended, I still believed that everyone would enjoy some kink activities, and so spent several very frustrated years as various other girlfriends turned up their noses and said "You want to try what?" Eventually I became convinced that there really was something wrong with me, and tried to bury those desires. There was no internet back then, and living in a small town meant that my options for exploration were severely limited. That's why I was happy to have met my wife, who seemed to have a pretty hearty appetite for sex, and a desire to try some "different" things with me. Our dating was fun and exciting, and we seemed pretty well matched.

Then we got married.

I know that this is a stereotype, but from where I'm sitting it seems like there's nothing like marriage, children, a house, and careers to really take the intimate joy out of a relationship. Or so my thinking went for years as my wife became more interested in church bake sales and PTA meetings than she seemed in me, and I'm sure that my working 60 top 70 hours a week at a new business didn't help matters, either. But the upshot is that we spent a good ten years never talking about anything more intimate than the kids, the next vacation, the next social obligation, and the next room to be painted. I gave up on trying to improve our sex life and concentrated on trying to improve our intimacy, but without much success. Long story short, after twelve years of marriage I found an apartment and moved out, expecting that there would be no way to work out our differences. Over the next year we tried counseling, but some things just weren't "gelling", and one of those things was my concern about her acceptance of my desires. Of course, there could be no acceptance if I was unwilling to bring them out in the open.

I'm posting an edited version of something that I wrote in another group:

I've written here a few times about some of my marital problems, more on-topically, about the lack of sexual intimacy, frequency, and variety. We've been separated since February, although we're still going to counseling together. We've been working on a number of other issues that have come up in the marriage, some hers, some mine. She remains hopeful that we can patch things up, I'm doubtful but trying to keep at least a partially open mind.

Anyway, early in the sessions, I told the counselor that I didn't want to discuss the sexual stuff, or rather, that it would be some time before I'd be ready to discuss it. This was due, in part, to some rather hurtful remarks from my wife over the last few years about my desire for what she called "kinky bondage shit". She threatened to make things difficult for me to have access to my daughter, and in fact, told several of her friends about some of the things that I'd mentioned that I'm into. She also threatened to pass around some of the erotic stories that I'd written to her over the years, stories that feature some rather non-vanilla sex. I should stress that these stories are tame compared to some of the things that people discuss on this group, but they are still certainly outside the mainstream. And that's not even to mention that they were things that I had written only for her and myself, as personal, say, as passing around love letters. In other words, without any basis for me to trust that what I said in therapy would stay between us, I wasn't about to get into anything that would make if more difficult for me later on.

A few months ago, I picked up Janet Hardy's book (written under the pseudonym Catherine Liszt, with Dossie Easton) "When Someone You Love is Kinky". I found it well written, and presented some of the issues and problems of "kinky" people in a casual and non-threatening fashion. Okay, enough of a plug. It was a good read, and it helped me become a little more comfortable with myself.

Anyway, we're getting to the point in therapy where we're going to be talking about the sex. We've had sex a few times in the past few months, obviously vanilla flavored. Lately, though, I haven't been interested in having sex with her. I know that this is making her upset, and although we're just tiptoeing around the subject this week, I know that we can't put it off much longer. So I was thinking about giving her the book and asking her to read it. I figured that I could give it to her at a session, or perhaps the night before a session, so that we could at least broach the subject in the relative safety of a somewhat controlled environment.

I'm not sure what I expect to gain by this. At one time I had hoped that she would read it and it would help her to understand that my desires and fantasies aren't something that I can change (or not easily), and now that I've had a few months of breathing room, I've realized that I don't want to change; to the contrary, I want to explore further. It's as if I had started something that I had to put on hold after we married, and now I can't put it off anymore. I still have the same concerns, of course, in that in reading this book she'd have "proof" that I'm somehow perverted and therefore, wouldn't "deserve" to have access to my daughter. And of course, she could then pass around the book or read sections of it to my friends and family and social circle in order to either embarrass me, or to "prove" that there's something wrong with me. On the other hand, I guess if she's going to do that, then she's going to do it anyway with the other personal stuff, so what's the difference, right? I'm not giving the book to her to get her to change her mind, or to convince her to take a walk on the wild side. I think I'm more doing this in order to drive home the point that we have some differences that most likely can't be overcome by just "going out to dinner more often".

There are several more parts to this that I'll post when I get the time. In the next part, I'll discuss what happened when I finally did sit down with her, gave her the book, and made myself about as vulnerable as I've ever done.

Stealth Submission

2006-09-12T13:45:00.000-04:00

In several of the groups that read, I often see messages from men who have desire to be submissive to their partners - generally a wife of some years. Like many who first discover a way to vent on the internet, their questions usually take the form of "How can I get my partner to..." I sympathize, of course, because I've been there, done that, and bought the postcards from the edge. For many of us, this is not a good place to be, emotionally speaking; I still remember all too well the frustration and heartache, the actual pain from having to keep years of fantasies and images and scenes locked up inside my head, not being able to share these with my wife, not to even have the opportunity to talk about them let alone act anything out.

When I read these messages on the various web forums, I often see other men in like circumstances trying to give helpful and supportive responses. They frequently suggest that the writer should imagine that his partner is domming him, and to keep that feeling in mind as he performs various "submissive" acts: Do the laundry, wash the dishes, clean the bathroom, get up early and make her coffee, give foot rubs and back massages without pressuring her for sex, and other similar acts of consideration are suggested. The underlying reasoning is that these are acts that a partner would enjoy anyway, and if one performs them with the mindset of being submissive, then they can fulfill their own fantasies and hopefully slowly bring their partners around to a dommish way of thinking. I've seen this humorously described as "stealth submission." I've tried this, myself, and while we had a cleaner house I never realized that sense of fulfillment. I now understand why:

I was doing pleasurable acts while fantasizing. In another context that would be called "masturbation."

Before any one flames me, I am not saying that there is something wrong with masturbating. I enjoy it; sometimes I've done it as a "quickie" way to take the sexual edge off, sometimes I've had long involved sessions, and sometimes I've done it to help fall asleep. That's not the point I'm trying to make. But sometimes what I want is not an orgasm; sometimes I want interaction. I want to be acknowledged.

I want a partner. I want a relationship.

And that's what was lacking for me when I've tried stealth submissiveness - I want some acknowledgement that my partner - my beautiful wife - knows and understands what I'm doing and why I'm doing it, I want her to actively participate, to give some thought to why I'm doing this, and - perhaps more importantly - can take some pleasure herself in knowing and understanding.

I want, I want, I want. Doesn't sound very "submissive", does it?

I continue to get up earlier than my wife to make the coffee. I continue to clean the bathroom and load the dishwasher and scrub the pans after I cook dinner. I rub her feet or her back or her neck, and make sure all the electronic devices are operating correctly - just as I did from the beginning of our relationship. But it's no longer an expression of submission for me; rather, it's an expression of consideration, a demonstration that she can count on me to be there for her.

In another context, I guess that this would be called "caring." We're still working on the "relationship" part.

Welcome to The Edge of Vanilla

2006-09-07T00:00:00.000-04:00

For those of you reading my original blog "The Tao of Me", I've moved to this journal (taking some of my favorites from the old one) for two reasons.

One is that the BloggerBeta was giving me some technical problems that made things inconvenient. I'm all about simplifying my life, and instead of hacking everything, it seemed easier to start from scratch.

The other is that the title of this blog is a better reflection of the direction that I'd like to see my journal take; an exploraton of sexuality and relationships, but with an acknowledgement that my own sexuality and thoughts and desires tend toward areas that seem to be just outside of the mainstream.

For old readers and those that know me through other groups and forums: thanks for continuing with your support and feedback.

For those who have just discovered me: I hope that this will be interesting enough for you to become regular readers.

Tom Allen

Equal Time

2006-09-04T23:00:00.000-04:00

I've noticed a trend in the FLR and related blogs lately, from people who are irritated with that particular genre to which I'm going to refer as the "Clueless Subby Type", or the CST. Picking on the CSTs that seem to populate the D/s forum communities may seem to be like shooting fish in a barrel, and frankly, I'm sure that we'll return to this a few more times in the future. That being the case, and in the interests of "equal time", I just wanted to share something that shows that the CSTs aren't the only ones with issues.

Once in a while I fire up Yahoo Messenger to play with the online music, weather, stuff like that. My favorite time to do this is when I really should be working, but I'm feeling brain-dead and I need a charge. Late one recent afternoon the notice came up that someone was trying to IM me. Here's a slightly edited transcript that you might find to be amusing. The speeling and; punctuation has been preserved, but other details have been changed to protect the guilty.

CDT: r u the tom that writes all that stuff on the group?
(This is not an unusual IM or email; I field a lot questions for people looking for help, tips, and support on chastity devices and orgasm denial.)

Me: WHich group?

CDT: the chastity gorup.

Me: THere's a couple of dozen., Do you remember which one?
(I ask because I like to keep track of that, but it's not really important)

CDT: the chastity group on Yahoo
(Duh! THere's only about a dozen...)

Me: Yeah, that's me. Need help with something?

CDT: u write a lot of good stuff.

(Okay, compliments on my writing. Good for a few points. )
Me: Thanks

CDT: r u in chastity now tom?

Me: Yes, I am.

CDT: how long have u been in chastity?

Me: ABout four or five weeks now.
(by now I'm starting to check his yahoo profile to make sure that it's not some 14 year old.)

CDT: who is your kh? (This is a typical abbreviation for Key Holder, partner or other person that holds the keys for a chastity device.)

Me: My wife. I've written about this.

CDT: ur married?
(Okay, now minus a few points. CDT has now committed the ultimate sin. Egotistical writers can manage to believe that you haven't read their stuff, but we can't forgive your completely forgetting what you did read. Now I start to get a teeny bit snarky.)

Me: Do the math.
(short pause)

CDT: u havent cum since 4 wks?

Me: No, I haven't even been let out.

CDT: ur kh doesn't let u out?
(Yup, I'm going to go from snarky to downright sarcastic in a minute.)

Me: No. If you've read my stuff, you might have seen that we like to go 24/7 for long terms.
(short pause)

CDT: my name is Don. whats urs?
(And this seems to check out with his profile, in which he appears to be a 40 yo gay male from the mid-west and into BDSM. )

Me: My name is Tom. You know, just like how I sign my posts and how it looks on the email.

CDT: I am a DOM.

Me: OK, cool

CDT: I like to be called SIR.

(Okay, I'm momentarily thrown for a loop. I had Don pegged as somebody who wanted advice on chastity devices, perhaps to use on his "boi". I suspect that Don is collecting CSTs and expects me to play along. Since I'm not the clueless one here, I tack differently than he expects.)
Me: I found tht it happend when I got older. Maybe it's the grey hair that does it.

(short pause)
CDT: ??? What?

Me: I get called "sir" a lot now that I'm older.
(Okay, that was too easy, but it was funny to me at the time.)

CDT: no tom, I am a DOM. People call me SIR DON.
(Yeah, sure. And notice his distinctive, if not particularly creative use of capital letters?)

Me: Do you want them to?

CDT: theyre supposed to. I am a DOM after all.
(I imagine that Don must now think I'm the crazy or clueless one. )

Me: Okay. cool. Is there something I can help you with?

CDT: yes...

(Don now asks some questions about - as I originally suspected - getting a chastity device for his "boi". He asks about the difference between the CB2000 and the CB3000, to which I point him to the damn web pages. I recommend the 3k, mainly because it's more passable under street clothing. I'm finally getting over my snarky fit, when he changes gears...)

CDT: which 1 do u wear?
(Okay this guy is just not paying attention. I've written about it for almost three years and have mentioned it to him several times in our IM.)

Me: Like I said, I've been using the CB3k for almost 3 years.

CDT: do u have a DOM?

Me: No

CDT: do u want me to be ur DOM?
(Major WTF moment here. I suddenly realize that I've wasted the last ten minutes.)

Me: You haven't been paying attention, have you?
Me: My wife is my KH and we're very happy with the arrangement.

CDT: ur not very respctful to me.

Me: What??

CDT: u don't act like a sub.

(Oh damn. I'm now at a loss for words, but only because I can only think of four letter ones.)

CDT: don't u know how subs are supposed to act?

Me: Why would that matter to me? I'm not in a D/s relationship, nor do I play publicly.

CDT: subs r supposed to be respectful to DOMS

Me: I don't have a dom. I'm not a sub. kinda goes togehter, you know?

CDT: u wear a cb. u must be a sub.

Me: CDT, I'm not a sub. I'm not in D/s relationship. I capitalize my name. My wife even does the laundry.

CDT: then why do u wear a cb?

Me: CDT, have you actually been *reading* the stuff that I write, or were you just looking at the pictures?

(Short pause)

CDT: wear are ur pics?

(There is a thumping noise as my jaw drops open and hits the desk.)

Me: There are no pics.
Me: I wear a CB3k sometimes because it spices up our sex life. My wife likes it, and I like anything that makes her interested. Get it?

CDT: I thought cbs were only for subs.

(I'm in the middle of writing a nasty sentence when this next line comes in.)

CDT: maybe u don't know if ur a sub.

Me: I think I'd know that. Look, my wife really likes when I wear one. I like her to be happy.

CDT: ur wife is ur DOMME?

(I'm starting to give up here. )
Me: I guess in a very general way, yes.

CDT: u have a DOMME so u must be a sub. is that why u wear a cb?

(And here I throw in the towel because I can't take anymore.)
Me: I can't think of a better reason, can you?

And so I logged off at this point, before he could get a chance to ask me why my wife allows me to use capital letters in my name.

Helpful Suggestions

2006-09-02T14:51:00.000-04:00

There is often a synchronicity in communities, and it's with some amusement that I have seen Richard Evans Lee and now Candace touching on a subject that has also been on my own mind. Candace has an amusingly titled post, sparked to some degree by what I call the "helpful suggestions" sent in by some readers. Richard notes that it's especially a problem for women bloggers, especially women taking on more dominant roles in their relationships. The point is that some of us choose to use these more or less public forums to ruminate, to think out loud, and to perhaps smooth the way for others; while we appreciate most of the comments, some of them seem to be nothing more than an indulgence of their own fantasies.

I've mentioned that I often get emails from people (mostly, but not always, men) interested in orgasm denial and chastity, topics on which I've written on in various internet groups. Occasionally, though, I also get my share of helpful suggestions. At first it simply surprised me, but eventually I, like Candace, began to wonder at the motivation for some of these people (mostly, but not always, men) to make these suggestions. Having now dealt with this for a couple of years, I now tend to read these with mild amusement.

While I'm not particularly squicked by most fetishes and kinks, there are quite a few that hold absolutely no interest for me. For instance, I love the soft, silky-satiny feel of women's lingerie... on women. I've had "helpful suggestions" that during those times when my wife would like me to wear a chastity device, she should also make me wear her panties to remind me of my lowly submissive status.

Um, excuse me? Where the hell did that come from?

I'm not even going to get started on the paradox of why those who consider women to be "superior" think women's clothing on men makes them "inferior". That's an entire topic unto itself. No, my question is this: I've made it pretty clear in my writings that my wife and I do not exactly have a D/s relationship, and that we sometimes practice chastity and denial play to spice up our marriage. So why do some people think that telling me to wear panties would be helpful? Or telling me that my wife should only unlock the device if I've gained so many "points"? And notice the paradox in that one: how could I, as an "inferior male" tell my "superior female" of a wife what to do? Don't these people understand the concept of "dominant"?

Apparently not.

Over the years, I have posted handful of erotic stories on various locations around the web, including the ever interesting Literotica. Someone once sent me a response, complimenting me on one of the stories that I had posted there, involving a couple with the man in a long-term chastity situation. I replied, thanking him for the compliment. He responded by asking me if I had ever thought of a sequel in which the couple hooked up with another couple in which the wife was in chastity. I answered, no, although it was an interesting idea. He then wrote suggesting a storyline in which the man and woman who were not in chastity devices had sex with each other while their partners had to look on in frustration, or perhaps to assist. I politely answered that it was interesting, but since I had other projects to work on, that he shouldn't hold his breath waiting. He then responded by saying that if I could work in a twist in which the people wearing devices had to be diapered or better, to wear rubber pants, then that would be even better still.

I did not answer further. I do hope he's not waiting.

If you like pina coladas...

2006-08-29T00:04:00.000-04:00

I was tired of my lady
We'd been together too long
Like a worn-out recording
Of a favorite song
So while she lay there sleeping
I read the paper in bed
And in the personal columns
There was this letter I read...

Bob was just out of college and living near the city when he finally had the courage to answer one of the personal ads that he'd seen in the local alternative paper. The keywords that caught his eye included "firm" and "discipline" and "corporal", and the ad looked a little less threatening than some of the others. It turned out to be from a woman about ten years his senior who had a predilection for spanking and paddling. Bob enjoyed a relationship with her for several years, eventually discovering that he preferred to be the spanker. He learned to appreciate the rhythms and the sensual feel of flesh under his palms. Bob kept up his relationship with her right up until his marriage.

"If you like Pina Coladas
And getting caught in the rain
If you're not into yoga
If you have half a brain
If you'd like making love at midnight
In the dunes on the Cape
Then I'm the love that you've looked for
Write to me and escape."

Bob's wife knew about his interests, and at first seemed to share those interests, herself. They settled into a middle-class community just a few minutes north of the fictional home of Rob and Laura Petrie, and Bob found a job with a well-known financial firm. Rotary Club, Junior League, and not long afterward, PTA meetings took up most of their social time. Life looked pretty well.

Over the next couple of years, though, he found her interest waning as often happens when newlyweds slowly become an "old married couple". Bob found fewer and fewer outlets for his interests and alternated between asking her - almost to the point of nagging, and long periods of sexual disinterest.

I didn't think about my lady
I know that sounds kind of mean
But me and my old lady
Have fallen into the same old dull routine
So I wrote to the paper
Took out a personal ad
And though I'm nobody's poet
I thought it wasn't half bad:

As Bob's wife became more involved with the kids and local clubs, she apparently lost any interest in their spanking play. Bob became more and more depressed over this, and at some point stopped talking to her about it because he was tired of feeling frustrated and hurt. Unfortunately, it also meant that they would stop talking to each other about the rest of their relationship as well. Their level of intimacy - emotional as well as sexual - declined.

"Yes I like Pina Coladas
And getting caught in the rain
I'm not much into health food
I am into champagne
I've got to meet you by tomorrow noon
And cut through all this red-tape
At a bar called O'Malley's
Where we'll plan our escape."

At some point Bob began picking up alternative papers and looking through the personals. He really hadn't any intention of carrying out anything nefarious - he just wanted to remember what it was like to feel young and sexy and desirable. He just wanted to recapture some of those fading memories of the fun times he'd had. He just didn't want to forget...

And at some point, he couldn't help himself. He placed an ad.

He got a response. A woman who wanted to meet in the next town. He replied, assuring discretion and explaining his own situation. No sex. Nothing long term. No strings. Just a desire to meet, talk, and if agreeable, to take her over his knee for a few minutes.

She agreed to meet him. They set a date and time to rendez-vous at an out-of-the-way bar. Bob left work early, drove to the restaurant, and walked in. He looked around the crowded room and spotted her instantly. She was looking at him, waiting in a booth near the back corner.

It was his wife.

So I waited with high hopes
And she walked in the place
I knew her smile in an instant
I knew the curve of her face
It was my own lovely lady
And she said, "Oh it's you."
Then we laughed for a moment
And I said, "I never knew."

And just like that it was over. One house, two cars, three children, and fourteen years of marriage.

She had set him up.

In a perverse twist of fate, an example of life not imitating art, but parodying it, Bob's wife did not suddenly rediscover her sexuality. She did not have a secret fantasy to spank or to be spanked. She was not trying to rekindle the spark in her marriage. No, she was tired of the charade of a marriage. She no longer wanted to be with a husband who had no interest in her, who would only accept a relationship with her on his own terms.

It would be years before either of them would understand that this is exactly what the both of them wanted; each would only settle for their own idea of a relationship, and instead of compromising or negotiating, they fought. Sometimes passive-aggressively, sometimes bitterly, but never with the idea of creating a situation in which both of them would feel loved, cherished, and respected.

This scenario is the nightmare that many of us on the vanilla-fetish edge fear; that our desires will end up destroying us, that our love-mates will become our enemy, that one small piece of our lives will upset the balance and ruin our hopes and plans, separate us from our home and children, perhaps ruin our reputation with our families, friends, work associates.

I met Bob long after this happened, after his wife moved halfway across the country, after the children had mostly grown up without him in the home, and after he had several more failed relationships because of his fear of opening up about his interests to them. He now compartmentalizes his relationships in order to avoid the pain; he sees some women romantically, and some for purely fetish interests - and never the twain shall meet.

Maybe I'm still too close to Bob's situation for perspective; our own marriage has only recently gotten a toehold in the escarpment of intimacy after some years of drifting apart and we're both moving carefully. I've found myself at times wondering where the hell my libido is vacationing because in the course of rebuilding our relationship I've had to - or at least I've felt that I've had to - put some of my sexual concerns into the background while we deal with other issues.

I don't have a happy ending for this. No pithy comment or words of lucid wisdom, except perhaps an acknowledgement that sometimes even when we think that we're communicating, we forget that we need our ears as much as our mouths.

That you like Pina Coladas
Getting caught in the rain
And the feel of the ocean
And the taste of champagne
If you'd like making love at midnight
In the dunes of the Cape
You're the lady I've looked for
Come with me and escape

Rupert Holmes
Escape (Pina Colada Song)

How do I get my partner to ...?

2006-08-25T19:11:00.000-04:00

It's a truism that one of the most asked questions on any sex forum is "How can I get my partner to...?" And while I'd venture to say that it's one of the most asked questions on any forum, I'm going to deal strictly with sexuality.

It probably goes without saying that one needs to keep the lines of communication open, but that's pretty easy to say from the safety of my comfy chair. For those of us who are already wresting with the idea that we have kinks in the first place, it's doubly difficult to open these discussions up with partners that we, through years of association, believe will be horrified, sickened, or run screaming into the street. That said, however, we also need to understand that not talking about them certainly isn't going to get us anywhere.

Unfortunately, when some of do initiate the conversations, we - and this applies mainly, although not exclusively, to men - often get it wrong by addressing exactly the kinds of things that our partners least want to hear, often ignoring the most important things that we should be addressing, such as our thoughts and feelings about the activity. For example, on the chastity and orgasm denial web forums I often see questions like "How do I convince my wife that she should use a chastity device on me and get her to enjoy the control that it will have over me?" And unbelievably, so many men read the websites promoting the "benefits of keeping your man in chastity" and are stunned when their wives or girlfriends don't seem to care about having their man "under control."

First of all, if you are already having a problem in your relationship, then understand that bringing up a kinky desire is not the way to start improving your emotional intimacy. If your wife won't even discuss sex, let alone your kinks, then you have a serious communication problem that you need to solve before you move on to other things, be it chastity or bondage or golden showers. Until the both of you are talking to each other, you won't "convince" her of anything, except that you're being insensitive.

Too, even if you can manage to begin a conversation, understand that not all women have some fantasy of being a dominatrix to a chaste male slave husband. To many people, the very idea of it is "kinky", and as we all know, nice people don't do kink. Who else but a sick perverted kinkster would want a few hundred dollars worth of plastic or metal wrapped around their cock and balls?

On the subject of chastity devices, most of the chastity-oriented websites point out the many benefits for the partner, saying in essence: "Your husband will worship and you and adore you because he'll want to please you so that you'll allow him an orgasm."

Yeah, okay.

When you present it to your wife, are you pointing out how she could order you around and assign points for when you cook dinner, wash her car, make breakfast, do the shopping, give her a massage, etc.? And she still didn't go for it? I wonder why not? I'm sure it's not because she was thinking, "That big jerk! Why doesn't he do those things for me NOW? Why do I have to indulge some kinky fantasies in order to get him to be more attentive?"

See, so many of the websites have all these rules about earning points, scheduled releases and orgasms, and all sorts of things that actually make it a real pain in the ass for someone who doesn't care for those kinds of game in the first place. A woman who isn't naturally dominant or who doesn't have much interest would probably ask "What's in it for me that I shouldn't already be getting from my partner?"

Anyway, my point is that if you're not already communicating intimately, then you have an issue in your relationship that needs to be addressed before you try to involve your partner in your kinks.

Kink-timacy

2006-08-23T13:20:00.000-04:00

I get questions. You get answers.

People read my stuff on the various web boards, Usenet groups, and Yahoo groups, and because (I hope) they perceive me to be articulate and sensitive, they email me. These are usually people who tend to "lurk", that is, read those groups without breaking their anonymity to post. They are also usually men. And they usually email to ask me about chastity and orgasm denial, or sometimes about introducing kink to a vanilla partner.

I am fairly articulate and sensitive, and because I'm also very introspective - and very handy with tools - I tend to research something until I'm, well, maybe not an expert, but certainly in the intermediate class. When my wife and I decided to use OD and chastity play as a way to have some compromise between my desire for D/s kink and her desire to have nothing to do with whips and chains, I set about reading as much as I could. Eventually I stopped asking questions and started answering them, especially in several Yahoo groups where I've logged well over 1,000 posts on those topics in the last several years.

I'm frequently asked about introducing some kind of kink to a more vanilla partner, and more often than not the person who has emailed me is already pretty worked up about the entire situation. I feel badly when this happens, but I well understand - I've been there: got the T-shirt, the postcards, and the henna tattoo and hair beading at the sidewalk vendor. And I'm going to share the gist of some of those emails and my responses in hopes that they will offer some support to others walking down this road.

About two years ago, someone wrote that his desire for some kind of femdomme kink was so strong that they could no longer keep it to themselves, but that his partner had no interest - in fact, refused to discuss his desires at all. He was concerned that by bringing it up he had ruined their relationship.

Let's get this straight right now: "Kink" does not ruin your relationship; rather it is the incompatibility, the inability of two people to come to some understanding or reconciliation of the kink. Our own problem is that we so often face the kink issue alone, completely out of context of any other aspect of our relationship.

Your partner could have an issue with your job, your other family members, or certain other lifestyle choices, and you would either work it out or part ways with the understanding that not everyone is going to be compatible with each other. Unfortunately, when we deal with kink we often bring in other issues: Your partner doesn't always understand your kinks, and there really aren't any easily available resources for help and support. Also, so often in anger our partners will make us (or try to make us) feel ashamed, sick, perverted. Never mind tht they are usually reacting out of their own insecurities about sex, the problem is tht many of us are already wrestling with feeling perverted or sick - in part because we have nowhere to turn when we need to discuss our desires. And too often we're afraid that they will tell our family or friends; the idea of being "outed" creates anxiety and sometimes we again try to bury those desires in order to avoid the pain.

But if kink is something that's very important to you, then not bringing it up early in the relationship will end up being a relationship killer at some later point. And if the kink itself doesn't kill the relationship, then the slow erosion of your psyche will kill it later on as you draw away from your partner, from the relationship, and lose the intimacy that you need to stay healthy.

Take a look at this passage from "Getting Close" by Barbara Fast:

In building an intimate relationship, trust is the major structural factor. Once you have trust you can risk emotional honesty. You can open yourself to your partner and reveal the good and the bad within you [....] Because we are afraid to risk, we settle for mediocre lives...which are really quiet desperation. Risking intimacy is a difficult, challenging task but you must always keep in mind the fact that if you settle for a life with little or no intimacy, your life will be measurably impoverished as time goes by.

Unfortunately, many of us are ashamed of our kinks. Because we haven't brought up the subject with our partner early on, it seems like it gets more, not less difficult to raise the issue the more involved we are. Soon it becomes easy to imagine parents, relatives, cow-orkers, ministers, etc., staring at you and asking derisively "Ugh, what kind of sicko would want that?" and letting those feelings of embarrassment and shame over-ride our desires for something that's not normally shown on tv.

For anyone in that position, I'm going to recommend picking up the short, easy-reading book at Greenery Press called "When Someone You Love is Kinky" by Dossie Eaton and Catherine Liszt. It's written in plain, slightly humorous, easy to understand laguage for people who are vanilla at heart. It's meant to provide some understanding to people who have a kinkster in their lives. Perhaps you might consider spending the $17 on the book and giving it to someone that you've been dating for a while, with the caveat "Before this relationship goes any further, there's something that you need to know about me."

I know a guy who is into spanking, but he's really embarrassed by it. He goes between telling women right up front, or not telling them at all. The problem is that after dating for 6 or 8 months, he takes a huge risk: if he tells them and she flips out, then they've both just wasted 8 months, and there's a lot of hurt on both sides. But he can't bring himself to mention it early because he doesn't want to "risk" losing a potential partner. His thinking seems to be that someone who's emotionally attached is more likely to stick around; unfortunately his experience seems to be just the opposite.

And look, we have to accept that some kinks are going to be easier to deal with than others. As they go, chastity play is probably pretty mild, at least, if approached as a game. I think that most people can deal with kinks when they look at them as something "fun" to do, instead of as a lifestyle choice. On the other hand, if you don't get that out of the way soon, then you're just begging for emotional heartache. I've read posts in other groups from people who have decided to get their kink issue out of the way by the third or fourth date. This way, if the potential partner isn't interested and they can part as friends.

Indiscrimination

2006-08-22T19:52:00.000-04:00

Orgasm Denial and its cousin, Chastity Play, are kinks tangentially related to BDSM, although they are often practiced by folks who consider themselves to be "vanilla". OD can be practiced as a simple "tease and deny" game, which makes it appealing to both men and women who either don't or won't look at the underlying D/s dynamic.

And for the moment, we won't look at it, either.

A few years ago, my wife and I were negotiating some kind of sexual play that would satisfy my own desires for D/s, yet wouldn't make her feel ridiculous by squeezing into leather corsets and shouting orders (my jokes that it's not the "shouting orders" part that makes her feel ridiculous is usually met with a cold stare). As we talked about what might work, she mentioned that she used to enjoy it when I wore one of my home-made chastity devices because she liked the idea of being in charge of when I would get to have sex (further jokes along the lines that she's usually in charge of that anyway were again met with cold stares). Having a machine shop to play with allowed me to build a device that was a cross between the vaunted CB-2000 and a Stallion Guard, although it was uncomfortable to wear for long periods. Accordingly, we purchased the (at the time) new CB-3000. I've made some modifications to the device to enhance the comfort and security for long-term wear, but in general it has worked well for us. It does not create unsightly bulges under street clothes, and once my body adapted, I became able to wear it for very extended periods without removal.

But this isn't about our experiments in "enforced" chastity.

I subscribe to a number of web groups dealing with Orgasm Denial and Chastity Play; at first because I was hungry for information, and later because my own research and experimentation allowed me to pass along some tips, tricks, and thoughts on the idea of chastity. I've become a fairly regular contributor in about a half-dozen groups, and as I read the posts that come in looking for support or answers, I've noticed a trend that disturbs me a bit: the chastity groups seem to attract "Do/me subs" who, despite the fact that they rarely have a significant other in their lives, are only too happy to pass along their ideas of what chastity, orgasm denial, and general submissiveness "should" be, seemingly without regard for how relationships tend to work in real life.

I confess that after seeing this for several years, I'm still amazed that men write to these web groups professing their indiscriminating desire for a woman - apparently any woman - who will keep them permanently "locked up (the vernacular in the Chastity community for being kept in a device), and "forced" to dress in women's clothes, to be a "sissy maid", to have them take other lovers, and to be humiliated in dozens of other ways that would surely end a more "normal" relationship in a New York minute. Generally I avoid comment - there's an unspoken rule in the kink world that one does not jump all over another person's kink, no matter how distasteful it may be to you. After all, what would your parents or grandparents, your pastor, or your cow-orkers say about your own kink?

But the other day somebody posted a variation of the above-mentioned messages in several of the groups to which I subscribe, which read in part:

I am going to be honest and blunt to the point

I have decided to spend the rest of my life in pursuit of one goal and that goal is to live for a womans pleasure and in such a way to maximize her pleasure and happiness to the actual exclusion of any for me....I think the best phrase to simplify this thought is that I dont have to cum as you cum for the two of us....looking for someone to help me achieve this goal and who might be selfish enough to have it as her own goal....anyway ..would love to talk to you ....

Leaving aside for the moment my pet peeves of bad spelling and grammar, I read this several times trying to get into the mindset of someone who would post this. Then I tried to get into the mindset of someone who would want this for themselves. I gave up, and then gave in to my first impulse. I posted a response, for which I'm expecting to get my wrist slapped by the group moderator:

I read this and all I could think was "How sad for both you and this undetermined woman."

What you've essentially done is to post a personal ad saying "I don't care who you are as long as you indulge in my self-denial kink."

Seriously, while you use all the pleasant and flowery terms, the fact is that you're merely offering yourself up to pretty much any woman that comes along. How would an offer like that make any woman (or man) feel special and worthy of such an offer? It smacks of someone who has so little self-worth or value that they don't seem to care who takes them up, so long as they get to fulfill their own little fantasy with some nameless mistress.

I can't imagine what would motivate a woman to take you up on this.

I've been flamed in the past for responding to messages in such a way as to rain on somebody's parade. I don't know what came over me, but I just had to say it. I'll admit that this is partly fueled by my own enjoyment of this kink as something that can stay on the vanilla/kink border; and that the men looking for indeterminate women to humiliate them will eventually become the majority in this community, turning off the couples who are looking to try something new to spice up their vanilla sex lives. I've corresponded with probably a couple of dozen newbies who had questions about denial and chastity, but did not want to get involved in any BDSM. I think that reading posts like the ones above would probably scare them off.

Lately I've been reading the similar reactions to the Domme-less subs from other bloggers, including the ever-articulate Richard Evans Lee who seems to be as tired of the men who can't separate their fantasy D/s life from the real world as I am. It makes me think that perhaps I need to take a break from the web group world in order to regain some perspective.

By the way, this post represents the first departure from my Live Journal blog. I had been mirroring the LJ posts here, and I may continue to do so, but I will probably keep this web log for the more specialized topics and the more kink-related topics.

Sometimes being a grown-up really sips through a straw

2006-08-15T16:27:00.000-04:00

Years ago, before I had kids, I saw some cartoon in which the parents - upon discovering that their various children had sleepovers or were out for the evening - said "Ok great, let's do something we don't get to do when they're home!" In the last panel it shows them going to be early and falling asleep.

Before I had children, I used to think that was a pretty stupid cartoon.

The stepson is pretty much moved out of the house; "pretty much" being defined as he sleeps at his girlfriend's place and has moved a portion of his clothes there. In fact, he rarely comes home except to interrupt important conversations with my wife, or to store his musical equipment, raid the fridge, do laundry, etc. He's been out for about a month or so.

And this week our daughter is at a sleepover camp. First time for her. Entire week.

So, you know what that means. Yep, we both worked late and came home exhausted.

I borrowed the company pickup and overloaded the back with old branches from some pruning I did over the weekend. Then I drove it back to work and dumped the brush over the embankment on our property. I got home about 8:30 pm, minutes before Mrs. Edge who was trying to catch up on paperwork undone because of her vacation a couple of weeks ago.

I showered and cleaned my new piercing (did I mention my new frenum piercing?), then I heated up the leftovers from our half-eaten dinners from the nice restaurant the night before, added some steamed broccoli and cauliflower, and we had dinner at 9 pm. Then she took more paperwork into bed to read. I checked my messages and locked up the house. We were probably both sleeping by 10:30 for the first time in months. In fact, I suddenly dozed off while reading an old Travis McGee story on my Palm Pilot, dropping the device on my chest, startling the both of us. That was funny because usually she nods off before I do.

Anyway, we were both more well rested this morning. Hope it lasts until tonight.

Yes, we have no bananas today

2006-08-13T22:23:00.000-04:00

Unbelievably, I don't have some sex-related observation to make today. In fact, I'm willing to wager that after my piercing heals that I'll be a bit less obsessive about my wang and will actually be able to hold conversations with regular, normal people.

For those of you - those very, very, very few of you - wondering about my wang: I got nuthin' for ya. Sorry.

Today we drove the daughter up to sleepover camp. We hung out to make sure that she'd be okay (she's an independat, introverted type like her dad, poor thing), and we took the long scenic route home through the undeveloped woodsy parts of the state, and on the way home I thought it would be nice to stop at a nice restaurant for dinner, since we wouldn't have to worry about a sitter. Then we hit the grocery store, and when we got home I cut up a pineapple that's been sitting for a week, and I made a kick-ass smoothie. Pineapple chunks, strawberries, orange juice, vanilla yogurt, some ice. Aaahhhh, delicious.

Now it' s10:30 and we're gonna head off to bed and chill. I'll soak my wang for a few minutes, and read some more Travis McGee.

woot - It works! - woot

2006-08-11T16:50:00.000-04:00

Okay, here's the sitch: The daughter is at a sleepover, so my wife and I get the house to ourselves. Cool, right? She tells me this at 6:15 pm, so I'm thinking in an hour we'll be on our way out to dinner and home early for some well-earned playtime. Haven't been in the mood since last Thursday because I've been too sore from my new piercing (did I mention that I've got a new piercing?) .

Unfortunately, she ends up having to work late. :-(

No worries, I get ready to go out for dinner, and she brings DD to her friend's house - where her mother (one of my wife's friends) begins venting about her own husband, their marital problems, how they haven't had sex in a year, they never talk to each other, money woes, etc. Not realizing this, I'm leaning back in a chair reading an old Travis McGee novel and beginning to doze off, when she finally gets home at 8:30 or so. She thinks I'm still in the bathroom getting ready, so she settles into the living room to read the paper. I'm wondering what's taking her so long in the bathroom, until at 8:45 we finally get our act together and head out to a local dining spot, hoping that the kitchen will still be open. We have dinner and wine, but by the time we get home I'm starting to snooze and I want a shower and some sleep.

But just when the evening looks wasted, I perk up slightly from the shower. We're both in bed, and I'm showing off my piercing. Then she pulled out a letter she had recently found, something that I'd written to her back in 1989 - back when we were dating. It was an erotic tale, not one of my best (and why the hell didn't I use paragraph spacing? I hate that!), and before long we were both feeling interested enough to make an attempt at some kind of sex. My firm - very firm, in fact - erection didn't seem to bother the piercing. So, what the hell, right? We have a strap-on harness which I carefully donned, and chose one of the realistic fleshy dildos, and in a few minutes we were experimenting. She was concerned that the straps or unusual bending might catch the barbell, but fortunately everything went along pretty smoothly. So, after she'd had a few orgasms in a couple of different positions, I upped the ante.

"I've got some condoms in the drawer. Maybe we could try this out and see how the barbell feels inside."

We talked about if for a minute, but figured that if it was starting to hurt, then I could just carefully withdraw and we'd go to Plan B (Rule No. 2: There is always a Plan B). So I removed the fleshy, silicone thing and unwrapped a Trojan Extra-sensitive, and then began the comical task of unrolling the very snug latex over a very sensitive piercing. Damn, now I understand why some guys lose it when putting one of those things on! I ended up needing to unroll extra and carefully stretch the rolled ring over the sides of the barbell. And then some of the creases caught some spare skin, and then I couldn't adjust it... I was lucky to retain half an erection by the time I finished.

For those non-savvy about piercings, it's recommended to use a condom to keep germs and secretions out of the fresh hole, and also to help keep the barbell from moving around and stretching the skin.

Anyway, a few minutes of making out again, and I was ready to go. My wife claimed to be pretty well lubricated (she wasn't lying), and so we began. I guided myself carefully, until my head was just at her entrance. To get a little more control I shifted to the "push-up" position, and slowly eased my engorged head deeper into her, until I could feel her lips just start to close around me. A slight sudden pinch, and then I was in. I pushed in a bit further and stopped. A little more. A little more. A little... ooch! Okay, that's far enough!

It was slow going, but worthwhile. The metal pin held the sensitive underside of my cock out a little further than I am used to, and even with the condom there was some movement of the barbell against the thin skin around the holes. We found a comfortable positions, and continued. I think she may have had a small orgasm, and we stopped after five or ten minutes. At some point she tried to raise her hips to get me into her a little deeper, but that hurt, so we took a break. We ended up swapping positions, and she got on top. I made her move - an inch back, no up, no a little frontways... ah, that's better - and she carefully rode me until I was very close to the orgasmic edge. Since she was concerned that I would lose my sensitivity, but even with the condom I was feeling everything in glorious Technicolor. I wondered if I was just overly sensitive because of the new-ness of the piercing.

Naturally I asked how it felt to her; in the missionary positions she can feel the balls slide in on the bottom just after my head slides in on top. She claimed to feel the balls slightly deeper in, too, and it was enjoyable. She wondered if it might not feel sore after a half hour or more, but I think that with some lube and no condom it should be better. While she was on top she could still feel them nudging her inside. I had to ask her several times not to get too carried away, and in fact, I had a moment in which I just couldn't help raising my own hips and it pinched like hell! Dammit, that pinched! We stopped for a few moments, and continued, since I was pretty close to the edge. Apparently she was pretty close as well, because I told her that if she wanted I would be willing to wait a few more days before coming. She went over the edge seconds later, and - according to one of our new rituals - after I asked for her permission, so did I. Wow! It lasted almost a full minute and was very intense, even though I had been trying to move as absolutely as little as possible. Damn, I hope they're all like that one!

In the past I've complained that after sex she immediately gets up for a towel, so there was some irony in that this time I was the one who hopped out of bed. I had another few moments of comedy as I now tried to get the damn condom off - again, trying to stretch the rolled ring around each bead. And again, I pinched my already sore frenum, and checked carefully for pulls or torn skin. Everything looked okay, so I gave it a warm rinse and a quick saline soak before returning to bed. We talked about it for a few minutes and then went to sleep. I tried sleeping commando, as it my habit, but I woke up at some point and got nervous that in my tossing and turning I'd catch the barbell, so I slipped on my new boxers and went back to sleep.

This morning I woke up with a major woody, so I'm pretty certain that everything is going to be working just fine.

Oh, and we were going to take pictures last night, but sort of forgot about them in the playtime. That's okay, it's still a teeny bit discolored - a few more days should clear that up.

TMI - More Healing

2006-08-10T12:41:00.000-04:00

Okay, this sounds stupid, but today I used a urinal for the first time in a week. Yay, me!

Wimmins don't realize the sheer amount of manhandling that we mens gotta do in order to relieve ourselves. I mean, sure, it looks easy, just stand up, unzip and let go, right? The problem is trying to manuever the equipment over the minefields of elastic waistbands while sharp metal zipper teeth lie in wait on the sides.

Okay, normally this isn't a problem, but for the last week I really didn't want to risk even further pain and bruising to the most tender part of my body.

A New Convert

2006-08-09T22:48:00.000-04:00

Okay, I'll admit that I was mistaken. I like boxers.

A long time ago I had tried some scratchy, bulky boxer shorts and I hated them Uh. They got tangled up in the legs of my jeans, they rubbed the wrong way, the seams scratched me, and I had to keep sticking my hands down my pants to adjust the legs. Pain in the friggin' ass.

But as I mentioned a couple of days ago, my frenum piercing was rubbing and feeling irritated (I did mention my new piercing, right?), and by the end of the day I would be very uncomfortably shifting and adjusting my crotch. And the area was red and feeling raw. Grr.

So the other night when I was walking in the door, my wife was walking out to pick up some little things at the local W*lm*rt, so I decided to join her. I spent a good fifteen minutes of my life that I'll never get back digging through the racks of underwear for cotton boxers. Not the poly/cotton blends, but 100% cotton. What cracks me up was that out of the four rows of Haynes and BVD and several other brands, the overwhelming majority of boxers were in Large and X-Large sizes, with the next greatest number being in Small. What the hell? I managed to find only half a dozen 3-packs of Mediums, several of which were some gawd-awful pattern, or had some reason that I didn't like them. I picked one of the two packages that looked okay, mumbling that I was only doing this so my piercing (did I mention my piercing?) would heal properly and that I'd be able to get through the workday without having to wear a kilt.

The next day, I wore some loose, baggy shorts (I have a pocket fetish, so I wear cargo shorts) and could feel the breeze coming up my thigh. Several times I stood over the floor grates for the A/C and let the cool breeze air things out.

Aaaaahhhhhhh!

I'm wearing a pair while I type this - dark red ones. Mmmm, the cool breeze from the open window is flowing up one side and out the other. It's almost better than going commando.

This weekend I'm going back to get a few more pairs.

TMI - Healing

2006-08-07T10:59:00.000-04:00

Damn, all day yesterday the pierced area was irritating me. Not hurting, just itchy and uncomfortable, and I just couldn't get any position that felt okay.

Most guys tend to be comfortable with their penis hanging slightly to the left or right (I'm a lefty), and I kept reaching my had into my shorts to adjust myself to hang right to see if that would help. Nada.

Anyway, last night I had a nice shower, hung out in some loose exercise shorts (commando underneath, of course) and felt much better when I woke up. Got dressed for work, but my underwear on (BVD briefs), and started feeling irritated again. I reached down to adjust myself and then I realized: it's the stubble! I didn't notice it with my fingers yesterday, but this morning I did. Obviously, my frenum being much more sensitive, it was getting too rough, especially with snug underwear keeping things in such close contact. So I gave myself a quick hot compress and did a quick shave around the base and the front of my testicles.

See, I shave two or three times a week; the last time was Thursday afternoon, right before I went to the piercing studio. I hadn't wanted to shave because I didn't want to irritate the area, but apparently the area was irritating itself. I feel a little better this morning, although I'm going to look for looser underwear later on. I just read the aftercare instructions from Tribaletic, and while they're pretty much the same as the ones I got from Green Man, it does mention that tight clothing could irritate the piercing and that one should wear loose clothing while it's healing.

I guess that means boxers instead of briefs, huh?

This won't hurt a b... Ouch!

2006-08-06T22:20:00.000-04:00

My friends from SSG keep asking about pictures. Here's the scoop: Quite a few months back, I thought it would be cool to get a frenum piercing for my birthday in June. I sort of chickened out, but only by a little. I checked out the various online groups and forums to find which studio in the area was most reliable. I settled on one, Green Man Studios (greenmantattoo.com), and late on Thursday afternoon my wife and I drove to West Hartford.

Here's my slightly edited Usenet post about the experience:

Okay, I'm crazy. I finally did it. This afternoon, about 4 pm. It's obvious that I'm hitting the middle aged crazy mark.

The wife and I drove up to a place in West Hartford that had been recommended on several online groups and by word-of-mouth. I had 3 to pick from, but frankly, driving by one of them really put me off because the location was kind of icky. I'm sure it adds to the atmosphere, but I crossed it off the list. I flipped a coin between the other two.

The woman at the desk took down some info, including needing to see my driver's license to make sure that I'm old enough and don't need my mom's permission. ⁽¹⁾ We went to a clean and professional looking room upstairs, where I immediately had to ask for the men's room. Five minutes later I was okay. Funny, I wasn't nervous until then.

We went over some of the choices, and I opted for a 10 gauge, 5/8" (16mm) stainless steel barbell. She said it was a pretty typical size and shape for a frenum piercing.

My wife was very interested and supportive, but not enough to opt for her own. Maybe next year. ;-)

For the technically minded, it was kind of interesting. She used a surgical clamp to hold the frenum (actually, about a 1/4" lower) skin, and spent a minute making marks to make sure that it ended up straight; that is, perpendicular to the axis. Despite the almost 100º heat outside, I had shrunken up as if I had just taken a dip in the Arctic Ocean. Geez, it's only a little piercing, nothing to get nervous about. Right?

So as I'm trying to regain my nerve, my wife pipes up to ask when I could get a PA or a few more to make a frenum ladder. As they start chatting, I interrupt to mention that maybe it would be a good idea to just let me get through *this* one first. Geez.

I vacillated between watching and closing my eyes, but it was hard to get a good view because I was leaning back against a medical bench. After I was cleaned and prepped, she took a needle that was shaped like a large, thick hypodermic (without the syringe part) and held it in position.

"Okay, take a deep breath, and let it out."

Inhale. Hold. Exha... "Ouch!"

"Okay, we're all done. That wasn't so bad, was it?"

I pried my fingers from around my wife's hand, and took another breath. It did sting, but it was less than a second. I nodded that I was okay, and said something to the effect that "I'm forty eight years old and I just pierced my cock. What the hell was I thinking?"

She gave me some instructions on aftercare, which I was pleased to see was pretty consistent with the stuff I'd read online and in some of the other groups. I spent the rest of the evening trying to keep things comfortable. It was probably four or five hours before I got the nerve to pee, and happily, everything looks fine. I've got my sea salt and other cleaning supplies, and except for some general soreness, I seem to be fine.

I was gonna take a before and after pic for my interested friends, but I figure that some are already feeling faint just reading this through there fingers.

Next up: maybe I need a tattoo!

⁽¹⁾Remembering my mom's reaction when I pierced my ear back in 1979, I'm pretty sure that she'd refuse to give permission for getting a stud through any other part of my body. Interestingly, back then I was on the wild edge because I had an earring. Now I'm way behind the curve... although I'm pretty sure that none of my over-40 friends have one, and most of my under-30 friends don't either. I'm also pretty sure that most of my friends, no matter what age, would freak to hear this; I'm kind of conservative appearing and acting nowadays.

Okay, I guess I'm gonna actually have to take some pics before I can even discuss posting them.

The Edge of Vanilla

Welcome

Time and Punishment: Some dynamics of male chastity in marriage

Ahead of Time

53 Days

Not the Usual Anniversary Present - 8

Back in the saddle again

Not the Usual Anniversary Present - 7

Not the Usual Anniversary Present - 6

Not the Usual Anniversary Present - 5

Not the Usual Anniversary Present - 4

Not the Usual Anniversary Present - 3

Not the Usual Anniversary Present - 2

Not the Usual Anniversary Present - 1

Not the Usual Birthday Present

Commentation on My Chastity Story

Chastity - Some Backstory, Part 1

Fetish Lore

My own chastity story

Fauxdommes & Fauxmissives

"... but when I'm bad, I'm terrific."

Friday... Naked Lunch

I've Been Sugasmed!

Is it Friday yet?

The Edge of Famous

Sex Blog Roundup: Laws Of Desire

Toy Shopping in Oz?

It's Friday again...

I'm a Fetishist!

Friday Fantasy

The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly

Disclosure on Enclosure

Friday Fantasy

Self Enclosure

Another Friday Fantasy

Lovely Parting Gift

infection nipple pie

The Friday Fantasy

Like I'd have trouble finding more than six...

Friday Fantasy

My First Tagging

Thoughts on "Thoughts"

Friday Fantasy

Mixed Feelings

Supporting One's Self-Perception

A Scene in the Vineyards

Incompatible Defense*

Top 10 Ways of Identifying a LL Partner

When Someone You Love is Kinky - 3

The Curious Incident of the Blog in the Night

LFA = Loving Fundie Authority

When Someone You Love is Kinky - 2

When Someone You Love is Kinky - 1

Stealth Submission

Welcome to The Edge of Vanilla

Equal Time

Helpful Suggestions

If you like pina coladas...

How do I get my partner to ...?

Kink-timacy

Indiscrimination

Sometimes being a grown-up really sips through a straw

Yes, we have no bananas today

*woot* - It works! - *woot*

TMI - More Healing

A New Convert

TMI - Healing

This won't hurt a b... Ouch!

woot - It works! - woot