Saturday, December 30

I'm a Fetishist!

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, December 29

Friday Fantasy

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


"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.

Thursday, December 28

The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly

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.

Wednesday, December 27

Disclosure on Enclosure

"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, December 22

Friday Fantasy

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?"

Wednesday, December 20

Self Enclosure

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.

Friday, December 15

Another Friday Fantasy

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.


The sudden expansion made me twitch.


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


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.


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.


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...


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.


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."

Monday, December 11

Lovely Parting Gift

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:

Lovely Parting Gift

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.

Sunday, December 10

infection nipple pie

infection nipple pie ?

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

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.

Friday, December 8

The Friday Fantasy

"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?"

Sunday, December 3

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

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?

Right. Like I can't find six more weird things about me.

Okay, here goes:

  1. 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.

  2. 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.

  3. 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.

  4. 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.

  5. 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."

  6. 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.