Be Prepared =^..^=

Are you ready my Pet? We leave for vacation early tomorrow morning. Have you shaved your "naughty bits?" (My Pet has been listening to Monty Python) Fun and games packed? That vibrating wand we enjoy so much? Oils, ropes, switches, rods, crop, blindfold, tit clamps? I'm sure the local hardware store has most of what we might need. Who knew a hardware store could be so much fun?

More Anticipation of the Trip

Packing and Pre-Trip Anxiety

MW and I are getting ready for our trip. It will require loading our vehicle with things that we need, things that we want, things that we may or may not need depending on the weather, etc. A rain or snow storm is predicted on our day of departure. We are planning to cross some high mountains, so we need to have survival items for contingencies. All of this means that we will take a lot of stuff that we will not use, and wish that we had brought others.

She has already told me to bring the piercing kit for a possible addition to my current state of anatomy enhancement. Might come in handy when we get snowed in. I get turned on every time that I think of it. She is aware of it, of course. It is unmistakable if you know where to look, and in my “natural state” it is quite easy. This morning she also said that I should pack a pair of sweatpants in case I need to wear something comfortable in public while being encumbered by things. I think that I convinced her (with respect!) that I am not a sweatpants man. I would rather wear something like a size larger than needed pair of old Levi’s which I happen to have. Of course, the topic gave me another erection. Yes, I need to contain myself.

Power Exchange

You may need to fasten your seatbelts before reading this posting. It is not just the controversial nature of the subject, although it may be controversial within our narrow context. It is more having to do with one’s credibility or willingness to visualize abstract concepts such as “the thing is there, only it is not”. All right. I am just toying with you. You will do fine.

A reader made a comment on my prior post about my meaning of “Exchange of power.” Since I don’t have anything of sensual or sexual or kinky nature to report this time in anticipation of the trip, I think that this would be a good time to define what I was talking about.

“You can keep digging deeper and deeper and find yourself coming out at the other side.” I am saying this again, and will probably repeat it as long as I support this blog. One reason is that I may have forgotten that I said it before. Hey, wine will do that to you! The other, the real reason, is to point out how some lines of reasoning can circle back in unexpected ways. I will give you an example.

Say, there is a man who deems himself submissive and selfless, and wants to serve a woman unconditionally. Her pleasure, her desire, her authority are paramount, whereas his are not. Let’s see, now, who gets what out of this relationship? By his own admission he gets nothing (he is selfless). By his own desire of selfless servitude she gets everything. Hm. I see something wrong here: he gets what he wants, she gets what he gives her.

You could turn this around, and assume that there is a woman who wants and needs to dominate a man. She succeeds to form a relationship that allows her to do just that. If the man wants to be dominated, is she really dominating him? If the man did not want to be dominated, my guess is that he would back out of the relationship. So, the question again, is, “Is she really dominating him, or is she giving him what he wants?”

I am not at all suggesting that the only male submissive relationship between male and female is when the male voluntarily gives up power to the female. If that were the truth, then the assumption that the male had all the power to begin with would have to be true. I see it differently.

I have demonstrated in an earlier post that all relationships are D/S. Their rules are dictated by the dominance scale that maintains a stable relationship. In this sense the dominance scale is a measure of power exchange. It is analogous to energy as defined in the physical sciences. One can not have energy, and one can not use up or waste energy. The only thing that one can do with energy is to convert it from one form or manifestation to another and reap the benefits in the process. Also observe that energy is essentially limitless in this universe (there is entropy but I don’t want to be too side-tracked by discussing it). One is not born with a given amount of energy and eventually use it up before or at death. Worse even, if one were to use it up while still living, what would he do for energy later?

In a like manner power can be defined from a psychological perspective (not physical as in the physical sciences) as “an ability to manipulate others.” One is not born with an amount of power that one can use up and then become powerless. Power by itself is useless unless one applies it to get what one wants. So, like energy, one can not have power and one can not give power to another person and possess less power as a result. But one can convert power into benefits. This enables the other person to use power to manipulate the one who receives the benefit in exchange. As to which person gets or receives the power conversion or the benefit is one of my circular assertions about “digging deeper and deeper until you come out the other side.”

As a final observation I will say that, “Power exchange is always defined from a certain perspective, and that another perspective will see the same in a completely different way.” Still, it is a convenient means to describe one’s point of view.

I am not sure where I was going with this, but I seem to have arrived where I started. It reminds me of the “European Vacation” movie where the Griswold family is traveling in a traffic circle in London.

Pontification #3: Dispelling a Couple of Myths

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Getting Lucky

I did not get lucky on the day before, but, I did get lucky on Thanksgiving Day. MW made the event perfect. We had family, friends, happy reunion within our private domain, wonderful food, no tension. It was an event to remember. But I did not get lucky in the way I meant. At least, not then.

Last night I did get lucky. Late in the evening MW told me to gather her toys and make them available. I knew then that pleasure was to follow. I laid out some of her favorite toys on the bed, and waited.

I have sensitive and appreciative tits, and she knows how to use them. It is kind of funny how my tits work like an ON/OFF switch. If she wants me to have an instant erection, she will pinch using her sharp nails, and I have no control over the result. My simple-minded little guy will snap to attention and remain so until he perceives that he is being ignored. But he will rally again upon provocation over and over again.

There is a pair of clamps connected with a delicate chain. I don’t remember what the original purpose of the clamps was, but I do know for what we use them: to cause my tits to suffer. She applied them in the manner in which they do their duty. It hurts upon application. After a while the pain becomes less sharp. I know that it is there but I can live with it. I also know that when she removes the clamps I will really hurt. You just have to be there!

She gave me ten minutes to do anything that I want to do. I quickly removed the PA ring in anticipation of a great fuck to come. Figuring that in ten minutes I can come and go, so to speak. Well, nothing is that simple. As much as I wanted to, and as much as she turns me on, and as much as I desire her, my little guy failed me. OK, it could have been too much wine, but I am not really looking for an excuse. The little shit did not come through when I expected him to do so. If it did not hurt so much, I would kick the crap out of him. Sorry, that would be self abuse and we are not allowed to do that.

MW graciously allowed me to go beyond the ten-minute mark. My tongue never fails me, so I took the next avenue of approach. Oh My! I could live with that. She began to show signs of my success, even suggested enhancements that I could provide. I am being vague on details here on purpose to avoid intrusion on her privacy. I was enjoying the sight, the scent, the tactile feedback, the mind fuck that she provided. Imagine a window into a scene that continues, showing perfect footage (in movie terms) of the most loving and sensual experience that a man can have in the presence of a woman. This was it.

The next thing I knew was, she was telling me to leave and that she would finish the job herself. I sat in my living room, naked, thinking of many things. After a few more drinks I did not really know where things went bad. I guess it was, as in the Cool Hands Luke movie, we had a situation of a failure to communicate.

She joined me later and we got together. I certainly don’t hold a grudge, and hope that she does not feel guilt. I just would like to get back to what we were doing and finish the job that I was supposed to do. Damn. I have a way to fuck up a wet dream.

The Tension is Increasing ...

This is the day before Thanksgiving. As usual, MW has over-extended herself. Many people coming to dinner tomorrow, she is cooking and baking everything for everybody. She is too good!
This morning as we sat outside sipping coffee while watching the stars she gave me a real thrill. No, not the good kind of thrill. She yelled loud enough for me to be really alarmed. It was over a shooting star of unusual display. Well, maybe it was falling space junk. But it was still startling.

I commented about how much work she did yesterday, and that she should not work so much today… Her response was a very warmly condescending “yeah, sure.” After breakfast I left to do my chores. Before I got anywhere, she asked me to fix her computer so that she can “print recipes.” I assumed that to mean that she wants to be able to use the printer from her computer. Well, the driver and software installation took more than the expected few minutes including one reboot. After that I went about my business.

I mentioned earlier that dratted deck that I am repairing. You know, way up there, the free fall thing, etc. After many days and many hours I am coming close to completion. But still, every time I need another tool, more supplies, it is three flights down and then three flights up. So, after several hours of hard labor on the project I came downstairs for good to check in with her. You know, the being naked to do her things, etc. Well, before I knew it, I had to put on clothes just take out the trash from the kitchen in which “she has been slaving over a hot stove for hours.” I fixed some lunch and sat down to study. For the next few hours it was up and down. She always apologized but had still another thing for me to do. Actually I think that she was lonesome. I really liked that!

It was not until late afternoon when she said something that I considered as “It is time that I tippy-toe out of the kitchen and not return until I am summoned.” She said right away that she realizes the tension, and that it would be good for me to be in another room. She had no argument from me on that remark.

It is now 4PM. She has been working on and off since 7AM. This is not good. I usually hurt when she does that. She did mention that a full body massage was in order. That means I massage, she receives the massage. Well, at least the day may end with a pleasant exercise. Not always, but most often, a “full body massage” ends in my being requested to give her endless oral pleasure. Maybe I will get lucky tonight.

Piercingly Potential

Some people get queasy about body piercing, understandably so. I used to pass out at the hint of getting a tetanus shot. I even dropped to the floor of a hospital room just prior to the administration of some stuff preceding surgery. In spite of my aversion to medical piercings, actual body piercings fascinate me. I used to say that ear piercings were a barbaric practice and I fully believed it. Actually, I still do. Not just ear piercings but all kinds of body piercings. The difference is that now I am willing to participate in the act, with mutual consent, of course.

I feel that I must not let my fascination get away from me. I have seen pictures of pierced people that even I would call “geeky”. I think that some of those folks don’t have much else in their lives at the time, so they do this, and later on may regret the extent. The only problem I have there is that some of these body modifications are extreme and permanent. I don’t think that the practice is harmful in general, as long as the practitioners remain realistic and healthy. However, the modifications do get in the way of social interaction outside of their very closed circle. So you need not be concerned, I will control myself and remain discreet with the place, number, size, etc.

Some years ago my wife and I decided to do a private piercing on my parts. It was an itty-bitty hole through the rim of the head of my cock. I inserted a piece of 18 gage solid gold wire which I shaped into a circle afterward. The piercing fascinated us for a while, but over time it worked itself to the edge and I removed the wire just before the hole turned into a notch. It was disappointing, but we got over it. It was at this point that W (at that time she was not yet Mistress, just Wife) decided to get another piercing in her right ear (she already had one in each ear). After it healed she inserted the same circular gold wire through the hole and now, many years later she is still wearing it. It is a symbolism of something that I have not yet determined in a satisfactory manner.

Our next attempt at piercing was again on my private parts. I will not go into the details now because I want to write about it later. It was in a very romantic setting which we will try to re-create in the upcoming trip in December. The result of that piercing was satisfactory at first, alas, that too had to be abandoned eventually.

The third and last piercing took place about a year ago. You have seen the result in Mistress Wife Is Away posting. The illustrated story behind it is another potential to present to you. Let me know if I would be going overboard in the details. In any case, that has been successful for over a year. Completely healed with only one problem that was described in the above mentioned post.

Getting to the point. MW buttonholed me a couple of days ago. Actually, she did not use a buttonhole on account of I was not wearing clothes at the time. You may guess what she used. She said that I should look through our paraphernalia to determine what we will need for the next piercing that she is planning for our upcoming vacation. Needless to say, I complied. We reviewed the options, and decided on acquiring 12 gage needles, and straight and curved barbells to support the operation. The items have been ordered, and the little guy is ready and eager to receive his new jewelry.

Pontification #2: Relationships

In my post on Commitment I pointed out that it takes two to have a relationship, and that both partners must be committed and remain supportive. What I did not say was what kind of relationship. The reason for that was because I wanted to explore the subject later, which in part brings me to this posting.

Merriam-Webster has three definitions for the word, but my preferred one is “… the relation connecting or binding participants in a relationship.” It is circular in a way, but fits my current reasoning. I will take that to expose an underlying principle.

In any relationship there is tension, and a subsequent struggle to resolve the tension. One participant may be satisfied by the resolution, but the other may end up with more tension as a result. I could write a book about this, but would rather get to the point before I lose the readers’ interest.

The only way a resolution would satisfy both partners all of the time is if, on the dominance scale, one partner was one hundred percent and the other zero (100-0). The dominant would decide and all would be well. It turns out that humans are not that way, so we must compromise.

Why does any relationship work, even temporarily?

On the short term we don’t get too perturbed by things not turning out the way we expect. We keep hoping that they will be better and maybe try to do something to make it so. But if they keep going that way, after a while we have enough, and want to change.

On the long term, assuming that we got over the short term annoyances, we develop a working relationship: “you do this and that for me”, and in return “I do that and this for you.” As long as both comply with the assumed and developing rules of behavior, the relationship can last a long time. As mundane as this sounds, this covers all ranges of dominance and submission. The key issue here is that both participants get what they want out of the relationship. Neither is forced, either may quit, but they continue because generally they are both getting much of what they want. It is unlikely to be perfect, but it works.

I will take an example from my previous jobs to illustrate the point. A workplace is not a democracy. When I accept employment I am obligated to follow local rules and produce a product that my employer can use to make profit. Change any of this and either my employer or I are breaking the contract. In more simple terms, I do what I am told to do, otherwise I am out. If the employer is unethical or does not support my needs to produce, I find another job. Wow, that is some power exchange!

A marriage is somewhat like that, but has other layers of interdependence and complexity. There is love, lust, friendship, habit, mutual responsibility, etc. But the same rules apply as in any other relationship: both participants must get what they want, otherwise it does not work. Even strongly committed persons will give up if there are irreconcilable differences.

So how does a successful relationship work where others fail? I have heard of, read about, and seen in movies 50-50 marriages that supposedly worked. Marriage is a subset of a relationships, so all that applies to marriage does not apply to relationships in general. In this 50-50 marriage, fictional stories aside, both partners must be detached in order for the relationship to survive. This to me implies “impersonal”, “clinical”, “nothing but rational”, non-involved living and continual negotiations. It is fake, or the end of a formerly loving marriage. The union remains only for economical, financial, or some legal (having children in common) mutual obligation until such obligations are dissolved. Screw the 50-50 marriage. It is fake.

The following numbers are not based on scientific data. I am making them up only to illustrate my point. If a marriage does not have at least a 60-40 power balance, it is deathly dull. On the other hand, many marriages don’t survive a 60-40 or more diverse power balance. Either because the wrong person has the 60, or both want to have the 60 percent or more of power. Those that survive have figured out that one of the partners is more or less in charge, and the other complies. Hmm … What a novel idea! Too bad ideas cannot be patented.

In a Dominant/Submissive relationship the power exchange is more 80-20, or even 90-10. It is really never 100-0 for any length of time except maybe during a scene. But even then we don’t know for sure.

Female Led Relationship (FLR) is a subset of all relationships between a male and a female. In my next Pontification, if you are still around to read it, I will show you why FLR seems to work, and try to explode a related myth.

Anticipation of a Journey

As in most journeys in my life (not all!) getting there was most of the fun. Just think how much you looked forward to one such journey when you were still young and innocent. Well, maybe not innocent, but you know what I mean. The way there was full of little joys that were enhanced by your knowledge of good things to come. If you were lucky to share your thoughts with one you loved you formed memories upon memories.

Just before you arrive you look at the scenes and participants with great expectations, and think that it will be a little sad when you have to leave a few days from now. But for now it is great in anticipation and the beginning of experiencing the reality: it is no longer an expectation. This is it! You arrive and get busy with settling in. Time goes fast, and before you know it, it is tomorrow. Except that it is always today.

Then next day arrives. You begin to do that for which you came. Your senses are still highlighted with the joy of realizing the goal of your journey. You still have plenty of time to feel all the goodness in it. You still have days full of plans of doing and not doing a lot of things. By the end of the day it is as if you had enjoyed this life for a long time. You are settled in an almost normal routine, except that it is not normal for you since you are on this journey that is different from what you do at home.

Days fly by and you are now beginning to think in more rational, more mundane terms. You know that in a day or so you will have to prepare the final phase. You wish that you had a few more days, yet you know that all good things come to an end. You could not really continue this joyous journey in this form long. You have things to do, obligations to fulfill. You give up to the inevitable, and plan the last day.

As good as the stay was with all of its fun, excitement, and challenges, you now look forward to the way back to home. Well, sort of. I have done this many times (that gives a hint to my age) and each time it is nearly the same. The exceptions are when some of the expectations are not met, or some kink develops that spoils the journey. But we will not delve on that, will we?

MW and I have such journey planned for the first of December. Although it is only an inter-state road trip with a few days’ stay in a historical city, it will take extensive preparations. Our life is not exactly simple, so we have to make sure that all who and what depend on us will be maintained satisfactorily until our return. Then there is the matter of selecting and packing the useful and useless items that we plan to take, my prepping and loading our vehicle, reservations made along the way there and back, etc. But then, all that is part of the anticipation and the journey.

We needed this getaway for more than just the obvious enjoyment of it. MW usually paints herself into a corner with all of the activities centered on the last three months of the year beginning with a couple of weeks before Halloween. It is usually over by the first week of the new year, but then she has her parents’ visit to dread. Oops, did I say dread? I meant anticipate later in January. A week or so before, during, and a week or so after, she is kind of living in a delicate space. I have to be very careful.

For example, she hates Windows based computers, as she is an Apple person. Regrettably, my son and I gave her a Windows machine when her Apple computer crapped out a year or so ago (the third one in a succession of Apple computers). This temporary replacement computer is very capable and does all that she needs to do on a computer. OK, maybe not all that she wants to do, so there is the rub. Plus, she just absolutely hates the logical approach that is needed to coexist with Windows. You see, MW is an intuitive and artistic female who does not want to deal with stuff that are irrelevant to what she wants at the moment. That is one of the reasons for which she married me. I do the irrelevant stuff for which she has no use but which needs to be done daily. So, when stuff needs to be done, she calls me to do it. Being touchy because of the holiday-induced activities, I must be very circumspect about my attitude and results. If I don’t deliver as expected, bad things happen. Not that she is an ingrate, it is just that she has a way of looking at things that my logical mind is not capable of understanding. So I get into trouble even without trying. But, as I always say, life without tension is deadly dull, and our life is not deadly dull. As usual, I will likely get myself into trouble with this, but the pain will be worth it.

Now you see why we need a week of relaxation. I will post the details later.

Punishment for the Crime

I mentioned earlier that MW must approve my writings before posting. I email it to her, she reads it and possibly makes changes, emails it back to me, and then I post it. My last post was similarly reviewed and approved by her. But as we know, stuff happens. After I published it she read it and became angry. I know that I am in trouble when she is angry. Somehow she missed the second part of my writing prior to posting it. It was the part that deals with the kitchen sink.

After she calmed down enough to deal with it, she ordered me to go to the bedroom and lean on the bed. She asked me how many I should get with the riding crop. I said ten. She replied that it does not matter how many I think I should get. Indeed. I received 29 strikes. She took a snapshot of my striped butt and then told me to retract my writing dealing with her handling of the sink. So that is what I am doing.

I have exaggerated the part about scraping garbage into the sink. She may drop some stuff in there or cut leaves off vegetables, etc, while fixing fabulous gourmet meals, but does not actually scrape garbage off the plates into the sink. If any garbage gets in there it was not done by her on purpose.

Signed, with contrition while sitting on the warm glow of my striped butt,

Susan’s Pet

PS: If you think that you see the outline of an "S" on both cheeks, you are not imagining it.

Having Fun without Sex

I am as horny as any teenager, and can get it up at the slightest provocation. Of course, that depends on the provocation. For example, when MW casually turns on her side in bed and I am just in that delicious semi-conscious awareness before passing out, she grabs one of my tits and pinches hard with the opposing nails of her thumb and middle finger. As much as I would resent being knocked back to consciousness, I am suddenly fully awake and eager to see what she wants. She gets away with waking me so rudely and with a huge erection to boot. She does this rarely, but when it happens it is memorable.

It has been several days since she allowed me to remove the CB2000 and have me keep it off. Actually, she does not usually have me locked like that, she does it only to torment me temporarily. This time we were both willing to keep it on. She gets a thrill from keeping me locked, I get a thrill from being locked. Pleasing both, tormenting one. The problem was that the little guy became damaged by a device that is not part of the CB2000. It is a wedding ring that I usually wear. With the cage in place and the frequent erections the ring cut into the frenum and the site began to sting when wet. After the removal of the cage it took a few days to heal. The little guy is right as rain now. He and I are ready for anything.

Alas, MW has had a lot of other things with which to deal. First, she planned a family gathering for a mid morning meal that is now traditional with us during the cool days of fall and winter. Only half of the family responded, and she had to deal with what she perceived as rejection. Then she planned a Thanksgiving meal at our home for the family and some friends of the same. Again, only some of the family responded. This caused her to be occupied with the whys and wherefores and consequently pushing her pet’s needs into the never-land that I maintain for her just in case she needs it.

Meanwhile life goes on. My natural state is without clothes. I regret to admit but most people of whom I am aware would resent seeing me that way unless the circumstances were right. In a way I understand. I have some friends whom I would not care to see naked under any circumstances. Then there are some whom I would love to see naked, but their state would get in the way of conducting whatever business was on the agenda. So, clothes are not really optional as such; more like necessity. Pity.

For the same reason, plus to avoid being arrested by the Sheriff for indecent exposure, I wear clothes when I am outside. Inside is something else. We don’t have many rules, but this is one: I am naked unless told to be otherwise. She is with or without clothes as she chooses. Most of the time she is dressed. I can live with that. As much as I love to see her without clothes, it is a special thrill for me to be naked at her command while she is dressed. With the winter coming I am practicing wearing goose bumps. I heard that they help to keep one warm. We will see.

By the way, I figured out how to add my icon to my profile. You can see Susan’s Pet in my profile and also on comments that I make on other blogs.

On a Slightly Different Subject: Griping

I chose my lot in life when I submitted myself to serve my MW. The decision was well motivated, mostly based on my wild fantasies, but at the same time it was a very rational and realistic decision. Under the circumstances it was the best approach to the rest of my life. I assume that the rest of my life will be with her.

Aside from the good stuff that she allows me I have some irritating issues with which to deal. One of my tasks is to always clean up after a meal regardless of whether it was thirty-guest family gathering or the morning breakfast with just a boiled egg. I chose this life, and I am grateful for my MW to allow me to have it. I feel that I am serving her when I do this. Getting to the point. I am a person who relies and lives by logic. She, on the other hand, lives by feeling, emotion, empathy, in a laissez-faire approach to life. Not only that, but she is a creature of habit. Somewhere in her young life she became imprinted with the notions that (1) all scrapings from a plate left from a table go into the sink, and (2) the scrapings go into the left side of the double sink and dishes are washed on the left side, rinsed on the right, and (3) all unwashed dishes are to be stored in the sink until they are in turn put into the dishwasher. These are not rules as such, just that they are inviolable habits. My approach in general is to do what makes sense under the circumstances unless they violate some prime directive. On item 1, I don’t scrape garbage into the sink. Garbage goes into a plastic bag which eventually ends up in the dumpster that gets dumped twice a week. Why? I will not go into the several reasons. Trust me. It makes sense. On item 2, this is just absolutely arbitrary. I really don’t give a rat’s ass about which side of the sink is used for what until I have to deal with the garbage that clogs the drain because it was not designed the accept garbage: the disposer is on the other side of the sink. As a result, I have to pick garbage out of the drain with my not so dainty fingers before the water will drain. So, generally, I like to wash dishes on the side where the garbage disposer is. On item 3, the only problem is that well meaning people pile dishes with all the garbage into the sink. Before I can do anything with them, I have to take them all out and store them on the counter, clean out the sink (both sides) from the garbage, and then get down to the business of washing dishes by hand.

I face a dilemma. If I don’t say anything about my dissatisfaction with this, it is assumed that all is well, and I continue to face frustration. If I do say something, then either “I am complaining,” “I am topping from the bottom,” or just plainly annoying my MW. In a way I can see that all three options are correct. Not that I am a slave, but let’s assume that I have a slave. Being the considerate person that I am, I would try to be aware of my realm. If someone were to point out that through my action or inaction I repeatedly make my slave’s life more difficult, I would consider changing that if it is within reason. There I times when I would make it purposefully difficult for my slave, but that would be to teach him/her a lesson, or to give him/her pleasure because that is what the slave craves. Messing up the sinks for no real purpose is something that I could change to avoid making a relatively simple chore more complex.

Sometimes we feel that we have to do something just for the principle. I know that my core dump above will be a reason for my punishment. The punishment may be something that will hurt temporarily, or may be withholding her attention from me or both. I am aware that even if she were not to change her habit with respect to the kitchen sink I will continue to serve the same way, punished or not. There are greater issues here that are far more important than garbage in the sink, and I would rather deal with those any time to be sure that our FLR is supported. I wish to point out that within this same FLR, I maybe taking a chance at invoking punishment from her, but she is never so severe that I am afraid to say when something bothers me. It is always up to her to do or not do something about it. That is what a loving Female Led Relationship is.

Pontificaton #1: Commitment in a Relationship

Based on the premise of my prime directive, “Hers Forever” you could guess that my postings are directed at Female Led Relationships. You are right. But some of my writings cover subjects that are more general than that, and are necessary to provide a stable and credible basis for my views on FLR. The FLR idea will pop up often both as a contrast to vanilla and as the primary topic.

I want to point out that I am not about to beat up divorced and remarried people. Commitment aside, divorce is sometimes the best for one or both partners. It can happen to anybody. But when it becomes a habit …

Neither am I about to beat up people who cohabitate without marriage. Without marriage divorce is not necessary, although the equivalent can be just as painful. However, I see less of a commitment in this case.

The subject of this writing is "commitment within a relationship." Let’s get the negativity out of the way first. Most marriages are vanilla. We, who know what FLR is, also know vanilla. A vanilla marriage has characteristics that range from no sex or ho-hum sex to S/M, from “honey please do such-and-such” to knockdown abuse and control of male or female. It includes fantasies, unfulfilled wishes, cheating on one’s mate, and more often than not, divorce!

The divorce rate in America for first marriage, vs second or third marriage 50% percent of first marriages, 67% of second and 74% of third marriages end in divorce, according to Jennifer Baker of the Forest Institute of Professional Psychology in springfield, Missouri.

See the source at http://www.divorcerate.org/

A contemporary approach to starting a marriage is often like the following. After having sex for a few days, and not really knowing each other, they get together for a weekend. A few drinks later and before another bout of sex,

“I love you babe!”
“I love you too honey!”
“Let’s get married.”

So they do, and the female gets pregnant. Hardships develop because after a while the female has problems that are not necessarily related to having sex for the moment. The male does not see it that way. What he sees is that she has not been as attentive to his needs as before, and his options of gratification are (1) self, (2) professional, or (3) that sexy little number at the Seven-Eleven store where he buys his cigarettes.

I may be making light of today’s marriage age adults, but you just have to look at statistics of the number of marriages versus divorces, families with children of various parentage, etc. and you can’t argue that there seems to be a lack of commitment. I am sure that there are responsible adults out there who are not the way I presented in my irreverent portrayal. It is just that I get really annoyed when some beer swilling hairy-assed jock belches and says, “I’m in charge, and I’ll take what I want.” He may still have some tender feelings for the woman that he married, but with all the conflicting influence on his behavior of having to be macho but sensitive, manly but expressing his femininity, he is one confused male. Add to that the possibility of not being very intelligent or even smart, he has a major problem dealing with his life in a caring and intelligent manner. No wonder he wants to split when the little woman does not see it his way.

This is not implying that the wife is necessarily perfect and just a victim of a bad marriage. She may be just as messed up as he is. Coming from a broken family, uncaring parent or parents, torn between warring parents, succumbing to peer pressure of early exposure to drugs and sex, seeing television sitcom females as her role models she has her own problems. She may be perfectly beautiful and sexy, but totally unable to handle a marriage. So, when things become difficult between them, she will decide to split. They become single again, and the cycle repeats with possible complications: children.

A person’s lifetime is too short to accommodate several experimental marriages that fail in search of one that finally succeeds (the eenie-meenie-minie-moe approach). It is best to be selective in the first place, but I understand that most couples are not mature enough when they marry. I know that I was not, even though I was old enough. Why? It is because we never had education in how to select a mate for life. Romance novels, movies, and television are very bad sources for such task. Either our parents were unwilling to talk about it, did not know it themselves, or it was not part of the curriculum of raising a child. It is just not done. Look at many TV show that deal with so-called families, and you see a lot dysfunctional people who don’t have a clue about commitment. Their children grow up sophisticated with respect to today’s gadgets and protocol. They emulate the dog-eat-dog relationship within and outside the family. They learned these from the parents and peers, and don’t have a clue about survival as a caring and reponsible adult.

On to the positive approach …

My background prepared me to take responsibility for my actions and for all who depend on me. I realize that once I make a change in another person’s life, I am responsible for that change. Marriage is such change in the most profound way.

Commitment is necessary regardless of the style of relationship. We cannot simply say, “We love each other and all is well,” and expect it to succeed and last forever. It takes two to have any kind of relationship. A relationship needs awareness, open mind, and continual support from both participants. You can relax for a while if you have a lot of goodness in the bank, but don’t become complacent. Your partner’s attitude is likely to be as in, “Yeah, you were great, but what have you done lately?” It is not wrong. It is the way we are. If you are really committed, you will do all you can to avoid having to hear that.

Mistressusan Here

We have hit a "patch of vanilla" on our road of life. Some people get along just fine with vanilla. It is the most often purchased flavor of ice creams.

Others, find the addition of chocolate or strawberry syrup titillating. I like a banana split with LOTS of nuts.

Sometimes I will just hold the banana, and slurp up the cream and nuts. Occasionally I am satisfied with a small dish of sugar free gelatin. It is all part of life's grand pageant.

Trying to add a picture to my profile

This picture has a number of significances for me. One of them is that I produced it during one of our (MW and I) many great stays at a favorite place. I am trying to add it to my profile so that it also shows up in comments that I make to other blogs. So far I have not succeeded. Any suggestions from the Pros?

More CB2000 Thoughts

This is somewhat of a record for us. It has been six days now since the cage was installed on me. MW has not asked or checked to see how we are doing. I guess that she is expecting me to have a hard on, remove the cage, and have penetrative sex with her. Of course, that applies only to night-time hardons. And there is the problem. Like last night and early this morning, I was awake several times, out of bed, trying to make the painful erection go away. I just don’t see myself grunting, turning her on her back and spreading her thighs to have my way with her. That is neither romantic, nor justifiable. Under different circumstances, once in a while, that would be a terrific scenario. But not now.

By the way, we have not done anything sexual since the first installation of the device. I am not sure that there is a graceful way out of this. I don’t want to be a weenie and ask to be released. Yet, I am not sure that she is fully aware of the implications of this. You know, one being in charge must be aware of all that is going on. I am willing to continue wearing it, but one of us should check to make sure that all is well.

If this sounds negative, or as if I am whining, I apologize for that. This is a very positive experience for me so far (with some concerns). She has pushed my limit, and I am in full support of pushing my limits. In the past we were always somewhat tentative about doing any of this. She seems to take it in a more “matter of course” fashion this time, which is a good sign. The other thing that I want to point out is that I am very blessed with her attention and with her assumption of being in charge of me. That has been my fantasy all along, and I am thankful.

So, the only thing that puzzles me at this point is, “Why am I so much on autopilot?”. My autopilot can handle short term trips, but it is not designed to be autonomous. After a while it veers off course and needs to be reset.

The following is a comment on this posting by MW. I may be in trouble.

My, oh my. This does sound as if you are whining. I had planned to release you soon, and bestow a juicy gift for your “suffering”. Now I realize, your character needs a challenge. Be aware, that I AM aware of your suffering. Your “autopilot reset” will be postponed indefinitely.
Mistress S

On Another Subject

I know that I have been at this blog for only a short time, but I am already getting impatient. I am aware that people visit here, but nobody seems to have anything to say about it. I don’t even know how they stumble onto the site.

I have followed the “Sugasm” link to see what it is about. They appear to be a way to make one’s blog known to other interested parties while providing a service. However, they have rules. I have dealt with rules all of my life, and I am trying to relax for a while. I don’t really want to get into more rules for now.

The other thing was what I have seen on various blogs that re-post links to weekly Sugasms. I don’t blame any blogger for promoting her or his site, but I like to be realistic. The Sugasm references on any blog are tiresome and visually polluting. They are complex without sufficient reward. The multiple links appearing on multiple blogs are further loading the already bloated blog space. When I see them I am reminded of irritating commercials that are repeated ad nauseam. It seems like the various blogs are serving one another in an incestuous fashion where most of the visitors are bloggers. I am sure that Sugasm is a good thing, but for now at least, I am not tempted enough to try.

That brings me back to the “I don’t get no respect,” [credit to Rodney Dangerfield] situation. Maybe I have not earned it yet. My MW seems to agree. Nobody knows about my blog, so nobody visits on purpose. Those who do must do so by accident because they leave no comments. I hesitate to add links to other blogs without the permission of their owner. Without knowing me, nobody will add links to mine. It is like working in the dark. Does anyone have a suggestion? I guess I should remain patient.

MW here:
AKA, Mistress S

We hit a little bump in the road yesterday. Apparently I am expected to put him upon the rack and check to see if all parts are functioning properly during and after he has been confined a certain number of days or 10,000 miles…whichever comes first. I expected my Pet to know the proper care and maintenance of his appliance. I was wrong. He was wrong. We each expected the other to notice, check, be aware of any problems, and follow through with appropriate treatment.
Fortunately, no real damage was done to the “little guy” during his incarceration.

********************

The Male Chastity Game

I woke during the night with a pain. It took a while to realize that my cock was trying to survive in a space that is about one third of the space it needed. Once erect, it filled the cage and bulged through the slots while pulling hard on my balls. I lay on my back waiting for the erection to go away. The pain catered to my kinky needs such that it fed back to maintain the erection. Under the circumstances it was not about to go away. The only way to get some relief was to get up and walk around while trying not to pay attention to the problem. It worked. The time was a little after 1AM, so I tried to go back to sleep. I woke again for the same reason. The time was just before 3AM. I knew what I had to do, so I got out of bed. A few minutes of walking around barefooted so I would not disturb MW did the trick. The pain went away as soon as the hard-on went away. But by then I was fully awake, and did not think that I could go back to sleep. I stayed up. I did an hour of weight lifting, and after that I did some work on my computer.

Around 5:30 MW joined me. I made coffee for both of us, and we sat on the front deck to watch the sliver of moon and the stars while sipping the strong brew. She asked me how I slept, and I mentioned to her the problem with erection. She said that she already gave me permission to take off the cage and use the little guy as he was intended. Silly me, I thought that her permission was good only that night a couple of days ago. I guess I will have to wait and try again. I have been wearing the CB2000 for four days now. I know that I will not be breaking any records, and am not trying to do so.

MW and I have a way of looking at chastity that is both sacred and a fun game. The sacred part is that neither of us will stray from our commitment to each other. That means, “No messing around with anyone without her approval.” Her having a relationship with another person is not forbidden, but is extremely unlikely. My having a relationship with another person is forbidden and is also extremely unlikely. Although she is “hot”, she is not a “hot wife”. She is also not into cuckolding, swinging, or threesomes. In my fantasies I might be OK with all of this, in reality I doubt it. I wish to point out one more thing. I am as horny now as I ever was in my life. I get turned on by a lot of stuff, mostly in a female related way.

Everywhere I am I look for females and enjoy seeing them tremendously. The way I see females is with deep appreciation of their beauty and a reverence for their power. That does not mean that I mentally undress every woman whom I see, or that I have thoughts of all abandoned sex with them. It is kind of like seeing and smelling a flower, or feeling the gentle caress of my feet as I stand in a shallow stream on a warm day. It is like hearing a favorite piece of music, or watching kittens play. It is nature’s gift to me to enjoy anywhere. I can enjoy without taking anything away, or without having to pay for the privilege.

Getting back to being horny, I would absolutely love for MW to allow me to make any kind of love with a female acquaintance of her choice. There is one fantasy that never fails to get me going! But as I said, none of this is likely to happen in this life.

Now we get to the fun game. She is allowed to pleasure herself any time, anywhere, in any way, according to her rules. I, on the other hand, will get my pleasure only through her generosity. This means that I am not allowed to masturbate unless she orders me to do so. The CB2000, and some other devices that she has me wear occasionally are just her way of teasing me, making me appreciate her more when she allows me to use my little guy as he was meant to be used. It is just part of the sex games that we play.

This does not mean that I am allowed to remove the device, any device, just because it is a game. It just means that even without the device I would be chaste because she wants me to be. I will remove the device only when she tells me to remove it.

We have a rather relaxed attitude about the whole thing. Reading about forced chastity does turn me on. Actually I get turned on by just about anything forced when it is done by a female to a male. But all that is just my fantasy. In sex games with MW she can do anything that she wants to do to me. True, I never get enough and I could use more of it, but I am not in a position to tell her to “do me”. She does when or if she feels like it, and I enjoy it then. It is part of my fringe benefits of serving her as my queen. Still, I do wish that I could have more.

Ho Hum. Another Evening of Oral Sex.

MW and I share a room in which we have office equipment set up including the use of some computers. In the evening I usually shut down mine and retire to the bedroom before she does. There I shower and then read until she shows up whenever she feels like doing so. Last night it was the other way. It took me a while to realize that she was not coming back, so I followed her to the bedroom. She was already on her back reading a book. I could not help but run my hands all over her soft thighs. I began to massage them. I must have gotten carried away with the pleasure for she pulled away with a painful expression on her face, “Kneading muscles is all right, but the soft part hurts when you do it so hard.” I playfully apologized and kissed her inner thighs as a token of my sincerity (as if I needed one!). I sniffed around a while before tearing myself away from her charms.

I did the usual evening application of lotion and foot and leg massage. I don’t mean to make this sound like some boring chore. It is not. There are many things about it that are dear to my heart. Most of the time she is naked while I do this. I love her naked. Actually, I love her clothed, and in any stage of dress or undress, so that this is not really saying much. Anyway, seeing her on her back enjoying my attention pleases me much. One of her best qualities of physical nature is her legs. She has, in my opinion, beautiful legs. I always get a thrill as she walks by me with her legs visible from the knees down. Or from the waist down. Or from the neck down … This is especially true when she wears high heels. Then again, I get a special thrill also from seeing her barefooted and standing. I guess I am just a horny guy hung up on a beautiful woman who happens to be my wife.

Getting back to the evening. After I showered and shaved I returned to her to apply the lotion. Taking her left leg first, I lifted it by the foot with her knee slightly bent. I ran my spare hand over that perfectly shaped muscular calf, then rubbed the lotion into her foot and toes. I put the leg down gently and rubbed my fingertips on both sides of her knee with a circular motion that pressed deeply just far enough to be penetrating but not hurting. My hands traveled down her leg an inch at a time while pushing into her muscles as if they were stepping along. Back again to the knee, and down again, but this time kneading like bread dough. My fingers repeated the action of circular massage at her ankle, then I concentrated on her foot. There are a lot of things one can do with her foot, and I love to do them. This time it was only massage. I spend a little more time on her toes, then back to her calf for a bit. I repeated this with her right leg and foot, then returned to her left foot for some extra care. This sort of work often gets me going so that I end up with an erection. Since I was still caged, it was of no importance.

She must have been reading or thinking of something special prior my appearance, for she had a small finger-dildo inserted in her love nest all this time. To say that this was unusual is an understatement. She never does that. I took it as a cue to concentrate on it, but needed verbal reassurance since I had been very wrong in the past at trying to interpret her cues with potentially deadly results. Yes, this time she was ready to play. I did some more finger-tip massage all over her and began to gravitate toward that wonderful place where the dildo nested. We have used such toys before with mixed success. This time was one of the not-so-good attempts, and she had me toss it so that I could concentrate on giving her oral pleasure. Now there is one thing that I can do well! The evidence is overwhelming. When she is ready, we go on and on giving her pleasure that way until she is totally spent. We did again.

When it was over she said,

“When you get hard during the night, use him to his best advantage,” pointing my my little guy. Well, he was little only because he was confined. Normally he is, oh, larger ...
“Remove the cage. Whether or not I am awake, do it.”

“I assume that you mean I should fuck you then …”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I mean.”

This meant two things. One, I will not be removing the CB2000 just yet, and two, it will be up to me to unlock and remove and gently mount her in her sleep when I get my usual nightly hardons. Ok, I can live with that. I put the key on my night stand, and we watched a movie until I got sleepy. After that I don’t remember.

I woke up this morning with a hardon as usual. Time was 2:47. Remembering what she said, I lay on my back thinking of the details of what this would take. By the time I figured out the logistics, the little guy's hardness was history. I got up and made an espresso for myself with extra caffeine. While my computer was booting. She slept.

I have no regrets. Giving her oral pleasure is by far the best and most that I desire. This is not saying that I do not want orgasm. I could handle that on the average, say, three or four times a day. But I have to be real. Actually, make it three or four times a week. What I have to give does not diminish but reinforces itself, kind of like an addiction to her pleasure. My pleasure is her pleasure. So, my orgasm is secondary and entirely at her discretion. I love serving her.

Mistress Wife Is At Home

The events I relate here took place on November 3, 2007

How can I say this otherwise? Her presence is everywhere. Her scent is in my nostrils and my mind. Her taking charge of me grabs me by the balls (mostly in a figurative way but sometimes ...).

I let her sleep late in the morning because of the hardships that she endured, and our going to sleep later than usual. So, it was after sunrise that I awakened her for our morning coffee. The process could be anything, but this morning it was just a few warm kisses and nibbles of her buns and serious sniffing around her most lovely private parts. She was ready. I served coffee on the front deck. Yes, the sun was up, but it still had to rise over the mountain range to the east, so we had not missed much. As we sipped coffee she debriefed of her most recent visit with relatives. She talked; I listened, and asked relevant and leading questions. She began to be agitated, and then relax. Overall, it was a relaxing time for us.

Later she re-attached herself to her computer to catch up on her various email accounts and websites. When she does that, she likes to have a constant supply of ice water to drink. I am the man who provides that for her. Since I have chores around the house, and the repair project going on, I would not be next to her to fetch her drink or anything that she needs. She thought that it was a good idea to instsall the signaling device on my person so that she can fetch me any time she needs something.

The signaling device is a simple electronic dog-training item straight out of the catalog. It was designed for a medium size dog to fit around its neck. When the trainer pushes the button on the controller, the dog gets a shock. The intensity of the shock can be set on ten levels. The shock can not be continuous; it must be done with pauses between presses of the shock button. Level one is most often not felt by me. Level ten is intense, and we seldom use it. The remote controller has a range sufficient to cover our house and yard. The only modification that I made was to remove the nylon-webbing dog collar, and replace it with a short ¾-inch leather belt. The belt can be put around my cock and balls, or just around my balls, depending on what else may be there or what MW desires. After testing it, I can be anywhere on the property and be summoned by the simple push of a button. Of course, from time to time, I may need to explain my sudden dropping of whatever I am holding, and the accompanying noisy outburst. In any case, I usually hasten to where I think MW is so that she will not repeat the summons at a higher level for thinking that I did not feel it the first time. Sometimes it takes a while to find her, and I get another jolt. Generally it works very well. Here is what it looks like:

She chose to have me wear the CB2000 also just to remind me of her. The two don’t get into each other’s way. I get to remove the signaling device while I am using the bathroom for anything. That is to keep it relatively clean and out of moisture. I do wipe it off often with an alcohol soaked towel. The CB is no problem, since the shower with a spray attachment gives it a thorough cleaning.

After finishing my morning chores I went upstairs to continue the deck repair project. She called me a couple of times during the morning to refill her ice water, etc. I know that some men would resent their important work interrupted just to come downstairs to reset the router when her internet connection goes away. I don’t mind. I am thrilled to do it for her, knowing that she uses me for her pleasure at all times. It is what I want and enjoy doing.

She had made a date to go out with our daughter who lives about a half-hour drive down the valley. Today was the day to do that. Later in the morning she began to put on makeup and dress. I was up on the deck working when I heard the fire alarm downstairs. I dropped what I was doing and walked down quickly, rather expecting a false alarm. Sure enough, the bedroom alarm was objecting again to the fumes from her cosmetics. I turned off the stupid and offending device and went back to work. Later, she asked me to drop her off at the meeting place. I then removed the signaling device, showered, and drove her to the place.

It is now a day and a half later and I still have the CB on. I will talk about this in a later posting.

Mistress Wife Returning

The events I relate here took place on October 30, 2007.

MW was due to arrive at the airport at 2:08. I had several hours to put to good use until then, and decided to put a dent into the huge task of the repairs that I mentioned. Our house is a three-story building. The deck outside of the room above our bedroom is at the 21-foot level above ground, which means that when I stand there I am looking down on top of some trees. First thing that I needed to do was to remove a wrought iron railing to allow access to the surface to which it was attached. I then decided to remove some of the deck coating as part of repairs. It was an impossibly difficult job using hammer and chisel. After some hours of this (on earlier days) today I had a brilliant idea of renting a floor sander to use for smoothing and leveling the floor instead of manhandling the bumps by the application of steel upon steel. The following is a shortened version of what I remember.

I returned from the rental store and dragged the badly balanced eighty-pound sander out of the back of my truck. It had wheels, so I was able to pull it up to the second floor level on the walk up path with relative ease. At the stairs to the third floor I cradled it in my arms and walked the two flights up. I huffed and puffed a bit, but was otherwise OK when I put it down on the top floor.

I installed a very coarse paper sanding disk on the 15-inch base. I plugged in the heavy duty cord, and rolled the sander through the French doors into place on the deck. This sander is basically built the same as one of those large floor polishers that one uses to make circular arc motions while advancing. Push down, it goes one way, lift up, it goes the other way, repeat… There were three switches on the handle. One to turn it on, the other two to keep it running. These other two are called “dead-man switches” for a good reason. After some experimenting I managed to figure out the sequence in which they were to be applied. Unfortunately, I had only one hand to use to hold the sander while using the other to push the primary switch.

The moment is etched into my memory. It was somewhat as in Star Trek, “energize”. I even hear the click of the switch, and see the eighty-pound sander buck then careen in a quarter circular arc into the French door which is the entrance into the room. Since the motion ripped the machine out of my hands, the dead-man switch cut off the power and allowed the machine to stop. It fell to the floor with a very respectable thump. After inspecting the damages and feeling my feet and legs for breakage I determined that (1) I am still relatively undamaged, (2) the French door is still intact, and (3) I think that I have it figured out, and will be ready for it next time. Of course, I had to remove and replace the sanding disk that got ripped to shreds in this first attempt at bump removal.

I positioned the sander with my right being at the edge of the deck from which I previously removed the rail. Left hand on the handle: check. Dead-man switch gripped: check. Primary switch: about to be pushed. I am ready. Click …

I am yanked to the right and lose contact with the handle and the deck. I am in free fall. I see the grinder a few inches from my face turning slowly, with both of us going past leaves and branches. I smell the acrid burning rubber of the sander disc and the green crunched leaves of the tree as branches snap. I hug the grinder which is the only thing moving very slowly while all else is moving fast. I am thinking that this is like in the movies. The fast moving things around me are slowing and eventually stop. I am holding the grinder, and the grinder is hanging from the power cord. I look up and see the cord slowly oozing over the edge. We are moving again slowly. And then fast. I hit the bushes below first, the grinder hits next on top of me. I wait for the pain …

All right, I promised to tell the truth, most of the truth, and nothing but the truth, so here it is: all of the above is true until the last “Click …” that is followed by the free fall episode. It could have happened. It almost happened. I was nearly over the edge when I managed to yank the flying machine back onto the deck. I just wanted to show you the kind of stuff I can and do get into. After I collected my thoughts I manhandled the grinder down the stairs and lugged it to my truck. Half our later it was back at the rental place. I will try to stick to smaller tools in the future.

By the way, if I ever again present a fantasy or shall I say, other than the reality of my experiences, I will always let you know before or after.

After retuning home I got ready to meet my MW. I expected to hug and kiss her within an hour. It was all very simple: drive to the airport, meet her at the baggage claim, hug and kiss. What could go wrong?

The drive to the airport takes about forty minutes. I arrived, parked the vehicle and took the long walk to the baggage area where we were to meet. With half an hour before her scheduled plane arrival I sat in a place where I could watch the people and get an occasional thrill seeing an attractive female walk by. Many such thrills later I checked the posting of arrivals. MW’s flight’s status was “On Time”.

At 2:08 the baggage claim section where I sat had her flight number on the display, so all seemed well. Half hour later I began to fidget and was forming thoughts that she is perhaps at another terminal and is getting very angry because I foolishly waited at the wrong terminal. But that could not be in view of the various display monitors that showed that her flight was all there and on schedule. A few minutes later I thought that I should check with the airline to find out whether she was on the fight. But I did not want to leave in case she showed up. Since she had my cell phone, I decided to use a pay phone to try to call her. I have not used one for many years, so I was a bit embarrassed when it took my fifty cents without doing anything for me in return, sort of like a slot machine. I milled around for a while, then tried again, but this time I read the instruction. Another fifty cents down the slot just to find out that her (my) cell phone was turned off. I left a message that I knew she would not get. I tried three more times with the same result. One hour after her scheduled arrival time I realized that the only reasonable action this time was for me to return home and see whatever messages she may have left on my answering machine. Thinking that I was in deep stuff with her already, that she was standing somewhere being very angry because I was not there, I did not feel good at all while driving home, speeding all the way.

There were three messages from her. The voice quality of these cell phones is barely sufficient to understand three words out of five. Adding background noise, plus the distortion offered by the recorder, I could barely understand what she was saying. Even her voice was not like I remembered. But, I was able to discern that she was still at her departure airport boarding an alternate flight whose number she did not know, and that her flight would be leaving at a time that would put it a few minutes from now. And, by the way, her cell phone is running out of juice, and this is the last time she would call.

I tried to call the airline to find out what this flight would be so that I could meet her. The single number listed in the Yellow Pages was a toll free which I called four times. Each time I was led down the numerical path to total frustration. None of the time was I able to talk to a human. I truly hate these automated electronic labyrinths. At this point my best course of action was to stay at home until she calls again from a pay phone. I tried her cell phone a number of times, but it was off.

A couple hours later she called and I answered. She arrived, and was in good spirit. I suggested a definite place for a rendezvous, and hastened to travel to the airport again to meet her in forty minutes. We made contact forty-two minutes later. She was appreciative, and even apologized for my having to go through all this trouble. I was nearly hysterical with relief.

Since neither of us had lunch, and the time was about 7PM, on the way home we stopped at one of our favorite restaurants and had a very pleasant meal together. By the time we got home, showered, and I gave her foot and leg massage, I knew that my somewhat expected end of the 31 DWO was not to be (see “Mistress Wife Is Away” posting). Still, it was wonderful to have her in bed again.

Mistress Wife Is Due To Return

The events I relate here took place on October 29, 2007.

MW is due to return tomorrow. I tested the reinstallation of the lock in my Prince Albert piercing. There is definitely some damage, so I gave up on it and reinserted the ring. Regrettable since I miss the constant pull of the weight of the lock. I will have to give the damage a chance to heal.

I have been busy each morning with working on an ambitious repair project on my house. One on which I had worked a number of times over the years. Each time it was improved to make sure that the rain does not soak through the bedroom ceiling. Each time I was disappointed. Ever hopeful, here I go again. By the time I quit for the day and come in to clean up, I am ready to relax and rest my back. So, I need to make a choice: Do I work on the project this morning, or do I clean the mistress bathroom? I suppose that I could do both, but then I would lose a substantial part of the day for other activities. More on that later.

Today I will work on the bathroom. Naked, of course. I always do my housework naked. Too bad there is no one here to appreciate it. She will be here tomorrow, but by then this work will be done. As I mentioned, before she left on the trip, she left a note for me on what is to be ready upon her return: (1) clean sheets and pillow cases on the perfectly made bed, (2) my balls shaved with lock in place (see earlier post), (2) waiting for her at the terminal’s baggage claim upon her arrival at the airport. I will have clothes on, of course. We don’t want to scare the straights.

Mistress Wife Is Away

The events I relate here took place on October 27, 2007.

Mistress Wife (MW) is away visiting her relatives in another state. Sounds simple, but keep reading. She takes a week or two to become acclimated to the visit, to “build a bubble around her,” in her words. The bubble is there to protect herself from pushy and boring relatives whom she feels obligated to visit out of duty and love. She reminds me that it is the same as what I used to do when I would be ready to go on patrol: some time before my scheduled departure I would assume an officer mode and practically become unapproachable. I didn’t think that I was that different in officer mode, but then I was too close to be subjective.

As she built her bubble our attention (I should say her attention) to mutual sex was suppressed to barely recognizable. She is sweet, and occasionally has pity on me, so I was not entirely ignored, but only comradely touches were imparted. Adding this to my extant count of DWO (Days without Orgasm) I was looking at 31 days, if she were to grant me the joy immediately upon her return. As wonderful as she is, I would not hold my breath. The day before she left she was thinking out loud about what sort of reminder she should leave for me. A CB2000, Kali’s teeth bracelet, and others would be good. But she did not want me to be too handicapped for a number of reasons (I did say that she is sweet).

On the morning of her departure she handed me a number of pink index cards. On them were instructions of when to feed her pet fish, water plants, do her laundry, etc. On a more specifically intimate matter, she requested that the bed sheets be changed on the day of her return, and that my balls be shaved. And, oh yes, as soon as she is on the plane, I should install the small padlock through my Prince Albert piercing and leave it in until further notice. I will report on the piercing later as a flashback, but will include one picture here for your information.



For those of you who have not had the pleasure of this specific body alteration, I will say this: things can be attached through the piercing temporarily or by way of a locked device, and it is an attention getter for all involved, especially the one who is pierced. That would be me in this case.

After dropping her off at the airport I ran some errands and then returned home. My usual attire while at home is wearing my birthday suit with some jewelry and occasional encumbrances (my natural state). I removed the curved barbell ring and replaced it with the small padlock. As you can see in the picture, the hasp of the padlock is substantially thicker, 3mm versus 2mm for the ring. With judicious application of lubricants I got it done in a jiffy. I don’t have a picture of the direct application of the padlock, because my MW has our only reliable camera. I thought of using my cell phone to snap a picture, but then I remembered that MW borrowed that too for the trip because she could not find hers. Oh well, I will just have to post that picture some other time.

The feeling is also different. While the ring weighs a quarter ounce or less, not even noticeable unless my cock is really swinging (like when I run on my treadmill), the lock weighs 1 ¼ ounce at least, as determined by my postal scale. The extra weight causes my cock to be longer, not that I need the extra length. I am not extraordinarily endowed, but the little guy has served me adequately. Well, maybe I have had some thoughts of, you know, self gratification under some circumstances in the past. But this extra length is not really significant enough to provide that opportunity. Still, looking in the mirror, it is gratifying. When I walk the weighty lock induces a pendular motion. My cock bounces off each thigh with every step. The feeling is sensational, a constant reminder that I belong to my MW.

All was well for a couple of days. On the third day I needed to run some errands in town, for which I had to dress (some people would not understand my preference to be naked). Getting in an out of the car is usually not a problem. However, with my tight pants, there was considerable strain on the piercing to the point of real pain. Sitting in the car aggravated the condition to a constant pain. I am not a sissy when it comes to pain, especially sensual pain. But in this case there was a feeling that the already healed piercing was being damaged. Regrettably, after returning home, I felt it necessary to replace the lock with the ring. Yes, she left me with the key “for emergencies.” I may be punished for this, but I did consider it an emergency.

Three more days until her return. At that time I will have to start making the bed again and throw out the cats in the morning. End of the bachelor life. I assume that my ass will be re-marked with her usual casual manner using a number of her favorite instruments. But she is worth it, and I am happy to provide the opportunity for her to exercise.

Where We Began

I feel the need to present some more background information on what is to follow in subsequent posts. I promise that from time to time there will be more interesting material than this. If you get bored here, please skip ahead. You can always come back to this posting to learn why I am doing this.

We have been married long enough to have adult children. During most of our marriage I stayed in charge of most things. It came naturally to me based on how I was raised. My wife was compliant to a degree, but had a passive resistant trait that defeated most of my attempts at having things done the right way (my way). We discussed the hell out of this, but got nowhere. Occasionally we had some bad experiences because of her tendency to self-destruct, and to become abusive toward me due to depression.

For many years I have been interested in reading novels whose theme was one or more females putting a male into a subservient position, and using him to their advantage. I was hungry to read and fantasize about all of this. But the most impressive theme by far, was what dealt with heterosexual marriage where the wife took charge of all aspects of her husband’s life. This led me to buy and study instructional and inspirational books published by female authors (see the list of books on the sidebar). I was still interested in D/S, power exchange, mild S/M, but it was mostly within a loving marriage where the wife was a strict disciplinarian. I guess that most of my fantasy involvement was in the sexual implications of the relationship.

During this time I made the books available to my wife. She may have riffled through them, but otherwise showed no interest. I was disappointed. Keeping in mind that I had made a vow to never request anything from her in order to avoid those bad episodes, our sex life took a downturn and stayed low key. I wanted sex but did not initiate it. If she wanted sex, I had no way of knowing because she would not suggest it. We remained intimate, but it was a miracle if we got together once a month for more than just a kiss and a feel.

My fantasies were not new to her. We talked about them over the years, but it was always in a sexual context. Problem was that neither of us felt natural about them. She was a “good girl” and good girls don’t do that. If I had to ask her, then I felt like I was dealing with a prostitute, which was an immediate turn off for me. Other than an occasional mild and short scenario we never got into anything meaningful.

At some point in the last two years some of the teachings of Ms. Rika and other strongly motivated women finally got through to me. It was not “requesting a certain treatment from my wife,” but “offering to her the benefits of my love and subservience in most things.” We even discussed the implications. My wife may have been skeptical, but went along with it. It did not take long for me to make a radical change in my attitude to make this possible. At the same time I did not expect her to change, at least not much. More on this later.

In the last two years another significant change took place in my life that was not related to this subject. This change enabled me to spend more time at home and with her. The rest of my posts will deal with our newly acquired freedom to practice a wonderful Female Led Relationship within our marriage.