Going On A Trip

I am going on a trip of two to four days. I will be driving alone. MW will be staying at home taking care of all furry critters and the homestead.

I have a choice of my own making. Here is my chance to use the little guy the way I can under the circumstances.

No, I don’t mean consorting with willing persons on the side. Just, you know, having some fun in the privacy of my accommodations. MW would not know the difference unless she asked.

Actually, I have done Master Bation before, and was willing and able, nay, even eager, to do all that she could accept from me afterward. So the thing is not really an issue that needs mitigation.

Still, I feel almost like the guy who goes out of town and fucks everything in sight. MW is not planning to lock me for the duration. I am not sure that I would want to be. It is not a matter of discomfort or loss of access to pleasure. It is more like being realistic. I drive on an interstate highway many hundreds of miles. Things can happen. Do I want to be found with a friggin’ cage and such around my formerly private parts?

Given all that, the idea of being locked until I return intrigues me. I guess, if some really bad things happen, some emergency technician finding my balls confined and really be disgusted (or turned on) won’t make a difference to me.

So, what do you advise? Should I go locked or free?

It Ain't Happenin'

I masturbate. The last time was ten days ago. Then I thought that I should not do it any more so that I would be ready for MW.

Well, she needed me four days ago, but my cock was not involved, if you know what I mean. I love oral sex, especially when I am doing it to her. I could live with that. Still, I miss the other things.

So, when I get over the feeling of obligation to be chaste I do my thing in the early morning hours when she sleeps. I do it three or four days apart, or as necessary. I would rather do it with her. I would rather have her helping me. I would rather have intense penetrating sex with her, whatever the means or methods. But, she has some problems, and then so do I as a result.

I know, there are other ways that we could have sex. She knows, since I have given her about as much information as she is willing to take on the subject. It makes no difference. So much for communication.

I think I will do it again in the morning. If I postpone, I may die of old age before getting any satisfaction.

Peasants In The Castle

I have a friend whose life and political views nearly coincide with mine. We agree on many things, and disagree on few. We share similar backgrounds, although mine is more recent. He used to be a journalist. He still writes, but he has given up working for monetary gain. He says, “People no longer want to hear the truth.” Even worse, he has given up his last forum, a website that he had maintained for some years. He still writes, but only to a limited audience. He lets me see all his literary production. With his permission I decided to share with you this piece from his autobiography.

In the eighth year of my life I was to spend the summer with my uncle and his family in a distant farm town. Upon my arrival at the railroad station a few miles from town, he met me. We walked along the dusty road mostly in silence since we really did not know each other. As we reached the edge of town I saw a building whose spires and steeply sloping roofs towered above the ancient trees around it. He noticed my interest. However, since I did not ask, he did not say anything.

He had a small farm that he worked with the help of his family. They were not prosperous, but did well under the circumstances. In addition to working the collective farm, my uncle was compelled to give a large percentage of his small farm’s produce in taxes. Once or twice a month he was also expected to provide the use of his horses to the community for general freight services. It was on such occasion that I rode into town with him and asked him about the mysterious building among the huge trees.

After we dropped off the horses we came to the place surrounded by wrought iron-on-stonewall fence. Just inside the fence were shrubs with deep green leaves, keeping a solid screen between where we were, and what might be on the other side. Past the shrubs huge trees obscured most of the building behind. As we walked along the weed-covered gravel road toward the building more of it became visible. Tall windows in the front, balconies, spires, and towers around graced the magnificent edifice. But many of the windows were broken or hanging askew.

A large clearing from the bordering trees offered the view of what was once a garden with low walls blending into the centerpiece of a fountain. The fountain was silent. Around the fountain was a once-stately stone walkway leading to a pool. Weeds and shrubs filled the cracks between the stones, lifting some above their neighbor. The granite and marble walls of the pool were mostly obscured by the trash that filled
it.

The doors leading to the front entrance of the castle used to be under a portcullis. Now they were both missing. We walked into a great hall. The marble floors were barely there, most pieces having been removed. The chandeliers were smashed or missing with bare wires and chains hanging from the domed ceiling. Doors to adjacent rooms were mere doorways. The kitchen was gutted. Some of the rooms showed signs of occupation by animals, and in some cases, humans.

I threw up my breakfast. Looking guiltily at my uncle I heard him say, “Don’t worry, the pigs will clean it up.” After I recovered we left. I asked him about the history of this place.

"A Baron owned the town and most of the land around it. He provided employment to any who was interested. His lands needed people skilled in farming and animal husbandry. The town supported the local needs, and tradesmen and merchants provided the skill and material. He built and supported a school for the children. Because the railroad ran several miles from town, the Baron spent his own money to build a narrow-gage railroad between the station and town. That made it possible to move freight and people regardless of the winter snows, or the summer mud. Local shops sold merchandise produced there, or brought in by train from nearby cities. Grain and livestock were hauled to the railroad station. Most people prospered, most were satisfied.

"But it appeared that some people were not satisfied. Some chose not to make a good living by working for wages. They said that it was not right that the landowners had all the riches and goods, while they had nothing.

"So, there was a revolution. Afterward those who owned anything of value were killed or sent away, so that their wealth could be given to the rightful owners. The merchants in town lost their shops to looting at first, and then to the local revolutionaries. The skilled farmers who used to work for the landowner while thriving on their own small farms were told to join a collective farm. They did, because the small farms they had were taken from them, and tossed into the collective pool. The revolutionaries insisted that now everybody owned everything, and were to share the proceeds equally. Nobody needed to starve. There were to be no more privileged people.

"The revolutionaries put their own people in charge to run the collective farm, and also the local collective industry to produce manufactured goods. The new people in charge knew nothing about what they were doing, so the output of the collective enterprises was dismal. At this point even the productive people were nearly starving.

"The narrow gage railroad was given to the people who should have owned it in the first place. Each town folk was allowed to take several pieces of rail with the attached ties. They did. The railroad became history. The rutted road between the station and town offered mud or snow depending on the season, to those who cared to walk or drive their horse cart. The local industry died, the merchants no longer existed. There was no more product to haul to the railroad station.

"The revolutionaries gave the castle to the rightful owners who subsequently moved in. Their pigs did their best to clean up the garbage, but they were not equipped to repair the roof or to replace the doors and windows that some used for firewood. When the new rightful owners complained to the revolutionaries they were killed. The castle was now vacant, beyond the ability of anyone to repair it.

"Things have changed some since that time, but nothing is as good as it was in the Baron’s time. Those of us who work have to work harder than before. There are still some who refuse to work.

"We are expected to be thankful to the revolutionaries for our liberation and distribution of the wealth of the Baron. In payment for this we have to share the product of our labor with them. They have the biggest houses, they live better, and they send their children to private schools. And just like us, they have their jobs for life."

Fella Tio

Some of you may have discerned from my writings that I am a fully functional heterosexual male. If you have, it means that you have paid attention. Here is something new: I would love to be the recipient of fellatio. But it is not about to happen.

I have had some girlfriends prior to meeting my wife, but they just were not into that sort of thing. Then she and I married, and my blow-job-affairs became fantasy from then on. She did actually do it twice in our early years. It must have been bad, for it did not occur again. I don’t know where we went wrong, if we did, but somehow MW just does not do that any more. It could be the flavor of the proceeds, and I would not hold it against her to refuse that. I have tasted it, and it is, shall we say, nasty. Of course, there are ways to get around that.

But I am not really referring to the typical pornographic image here. I am talking about making love. Who does what to whom is a matter of how much you want to give to your partner as a gift.
Buying an expensive piece of jewelry maybe self-gratifying, and may end up being appreciated by the recipient. But that is only money. Something actually done or produced by one for another is precious. Then there is an extreme. We have a life-long friend who does not get any sex from her husband other than getting to suck his cock. It’s not that she wants to do so. It is that, that is all he wants from her. I could never do that to a woman. Theirs is definitely not an FLR.

I know fellatio is not a “thing of FLR”, but neither are a lot of things that I do. We are not in the mindset of “female is superior, male is a piece of crap” thing, so that is not the reason for this situation. Yet, fellatio is missing from our lives. I know, I have advised others of talking about issues. I may be remiss, but I feel that if I were to bring up this subject with MW, it would be something that would cause problems, rather than to solve them. As you can see, our relationship is not perfect.

Now, if I were to bring up this subject, she could set me straight, as in “You may as well forget about a friggin’ blow-job. I don’t do that, and don’t ever bring it up again. Your job is to serve me in any way I want, and you take what I give or choose not to give.”

I could live with that, just that, she has not actually said that. So I am still uncertain about its future.

Be All who You Want To Be ... Maybe

Doing Dishonest Things Makes You Dishonest

I may have a suppressed memory from childhood that makes me almost paranoid about my pretending to be anyone other than what I am. I don’t remember. Then again, if I tucked a bit of nasty stuff under some other accumulating garbage in a seldom-used recess of my mind, I just might not remember because of that.

I have gone to school. I have never cheated. I have never cut a class. I think that all this was because of what my parents instilled in me: “Do your best, and enjoy the result. If you get what you want by dishonesty, you are a dishonest person when you get it.” The thing is, I had to work my balls off all of my life to get what I wanted, because I am not as smart as those of you who need not work that hard. Yet, my parents’ warning stayed with me. I will now get to the point of this pontification.

I was reading a post once, in which the writer said something about what he and his wife did, and then said that “We are not really that way.” I commented that, “If you do it, then you are really that way.” It is because we are what we do, not what we claim to do.

I have enjoyed reading a particular blog in which the writer likes to cross-dress. He also professes to be a submissive, and he demonstrates that by his postings. Married to a moderately dominant woman he does a lot of housework, and then serves her in any way that she will let him. So far it is as expected.

At some point, he apparently decided to escalate the demonstration of his yearnings for domination and to be considered female. The blog was reasonable until then. With today’s common theme of extreme FLR, cuckolding had to enter his realm. He writes very well about it, and the story is plausible. But I see a patina of fantasy on this new beginning. His previous very real posts have taken a turn toward every closet homosexual male’s needs and desires. He has had some “dates” with his wife’s boyfriend’s male friend. It was all arranged for him, so he is blameless in his encounters.

I admit that I did get some thrill out of following the details. Most of my thrills were the assumed domination by the wife, such that he had to submit to her boyfriend also. But I have a bit of a problem with the other part that I will detail in a moment. Aside from the very likely fantasy presented as real, he will have a problem in real life: life is not like fantasy. It can be very cruel.

I truly have no problem with a man giving up to his homosexual needs, and acting on them. If you have to admit it, go ahead. It does not make you a lesser person. It does not diminish you in my presence or my opinion. You can still be my friend, and I can still trust you with my life if I would have done so otherwise. In fact, I would trust you more, because you are not hiding something from me. And there is the rub.

Cross-dressing is OK for fun. I am not into it, but I can see how it could be a thrill. But this takes me back to my introduction on this subject: be all you can be, but not somebody else. If this cross dresser enjoys being with and around people pretending to be a female, and they all know he is just playing the part, then all is well. He is a female wannabe, and we should give him a chance. It is harmless, and often helpful to real females. If he keeps it within his close relationship, then anything goes, and all know that he is pretending.

That is where a problem can arise. If he goes outside the relationship, people may not know that he is pretending. That is like taking credit for something that he is not, or he has not achieved. I don’t think that I would be vindictive if I were duped by him (see this post Is She Real?). But some people are not as easy going as I am. My real problem is with the pretense for real. As interesting, fascinating, and sexy as the story may be, I could not justify it because of my urgent need to be true.

With all that I am not saying that I have never lied. We have thresholds for behavior, and circumstances always have strong effects. For example, I have done undercover police work where telling the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth would have been counterproductive to my job. If I had a problem with that, I would not have gone into law enforcement. But that is not what I am saying here. How could I dress as a woman and expect to be accepted as one? To what extent would the acceptance go? At some point the rubber meets the road, and I don’t want to go there.

Arguments And Fights

I tend to be pragmatic in mostly all of what I do. It is the way I am. It is also for this reason that I distinguish between an argument and a fight in more or less benign context, say, between partners in a given situation.

An argument can be rational or not. That depends on whether both persons adhere to rationality to resolve issues. Argument relies on logic to support one’s position. The attempt by both parties is to convince the other of supporting facts. When one or both parties use emotional support, the argument fails. It becomes something else.

My current pontification was incited by Great Kate. She presented a way to diffuse what could have turned into a fight, and she did a great job. I am sure that she was being rhetorical when she asked, “Does every fight have to be settled by exchanging punches?”

A fight is the other way of handling things. As a given requirement, it is irrational. A fight occurs when an argument was not tried, or was tried and it failed. Some people don’t have the skill or incentive to argue, so they are always in the fight mode. When something annoys them, they fight.

I have heard that “Violence is the last resort of the incompetent.” I have never thrown a first punch. However, when I was the recipient of such, I tried to retaliate in kind depending on the situation. For example, I would not punch back to a person whom I loved and or respected. Also, I would not punch back when I was passed out on the floor. Given that, I can honestly say that I have never had a fight with my wife. I had to duck a few times, and had put up with some verbal abuse, but never retaliated in kind.

In our early years I tried to argue with her. It did not work. She is not the pragmatic logical person who I am, and there is no way to convince her of right or wrong when she perceives a hurt. So, what I always do, is let her vent her fury, and then she will calm.

Of course, that approach had gotten me into trouble simply because of my lack of expected response. I can lose a fight even when I refuse to respond. But that is better than responding in kind, for that would escalate the stakes and the required responses. As the years went by, she has figured out that it is not only difficult, but damn near impossible to get me into a fight with her. I would rather suffer whatever she decides to throw at me (figuratively speaking) than to fight her. When logic fails, irrationality also fails. We come back to the problem later and solve it rationally. We both learn from it.

All of this is not really within the spirit and practice of our Female Led Relationship. It is part of our basic relationship that supports FLR. We are not perfect. She flies off the handle once in a while, and I feel hurt. But neither will cause long lasting harm, and neither of us is trying to prove anything. It is just the way we are.

Master Bation

He Is Not As Bad As The Rumor Says

There is a lot of perversion of the idea of masturbation. Somehow people decided that it is wrong to masturbate. Under some circumstances it may be true, but generally it is all right.

Let’s get some basics out of the way before getting into the fun stuff. Does masturbation do any harm? If yes, what?

Regardless of the gender, age, or whether done in private or shared, except in extreme cases it is benign. One might call it a renewable resource with a kick.

I know it maybe sinful in some religions, but I am talking physiological or psychological, not philosophical effects. Anyone care to comment?

Since I heard no comments, I will proceed.

The Single Person

Assume that you are a single adult, and have no relationship with a partner who would be willing to participate in sex, or worse even, with whom you would rather not participate. If you feel the need to masturbate, and you don’t satisfy it, well, you are missing some fun.

Extending the above scenario, assume that you do have an occasional sex partner, but you just don’t get enough. Does it hurt anybody if you take things in hand from time to time? Unless you do it to the extent that “you can’t perform” when expected, what is the harm?

Oh, so maybe you do that, and don’t measure up when challenged? I would have to ask the reason for both: why do you masturbate to that extent, and why you don’t measure up. I could write essays on both, but will skip that for now.

In A Committed Relationship

Now we have more restrictions and expectations. If you have an exclusive relationship with your sex partner, then he or she will have something to say about your handling your affairs without some guidelines. But let’s look at some examples. I know, some of you are already thinking of sex forced on you when in prison. Go ahead, have your fantasy. As committed as that relationship may be, it is not what I am relating here.

Is it possible that you are in a vanilla relationship, and you and your partner are not well matched for frequency of sexual needs. We could measure the needs as the number of orgasms you or your partner requires per period of time. I would say that is true way more than half the time. This is where masturbation comes in handy, so to speak. It does not detract from the less sexually charged person’s enjoyment, but gives some gratification to the horny one. On the long run, all may be well unless one or the other is carried to an extreme.

I have never heard from anyone complaining that his wife or girlfriend masturbates so much that she loses interest in him. Much of the time the man is usually the horny one who wants more sex, and the woman may be satisfied with his occasional handling his own needs. If this ends up to be an exclusive affair that is shutting out the partner in favor of self-gratification, then the relationship is no longer viable without some modification. This would be truly an extracurricular affair.

In a D/S Relationship

D/S without sex is like scratching yourself when you don’t have an itch: after a while it becomes irritating. In the famous words of Doctor Charles Montague in the movie, High Anxiety, “Too much punishment, not enough discipline” (he wanted less whipping, and more personal attention). Sure, it can happen, but when it does, it is time to exit.

So we are finally at good old D/S with sex. Here is where the “rubber meets the road”.

In an FLR the female can do anything she wants, but the male is subject to her rules. Assuming that you subscribe to that (if you don’t, I don’t know why you are reading this), we still need to look at the reasons for which male masturbation is restricted or prohibited. There may be many, and for a quirky reason I will list some here. The list is provocative and farcical, but not exhaustive.

• He would do it to such excess that he would lose interest in her when she needs it.
• He would do it only occasionally, but the mistress would feel cheated, as if he were performing adultery (see No Masturbation!!!).
• He no longer owns his cock, so he must not be allowed to pleasure it.
• He must never be allowed orgasm without her approval.
• He must be punished for past transgressions against her.
• She gets off on tormenting him through this limitation.
• Slaves must not be allowed to have pleasure.

Any of these ideas is as ridiculous as the next, but when implemented in context, two people can have a lot of fun with it. I am not talking about pathological cases of self-inflicted chastity. It’s fine if that is all you can have, but we are really addressing a relationship between (at least) two people.

In this FLR masturbation means female or male doing it. Female masturbation is OK, any number of times, anywhere, any time. Male masturbation is to be done, if at all, by her rules.

Yeah, well, sort of. For example, “How would you stop a man from doing this?”

“Chastity devices,” you say?

I suppose it could work. I know the implications. The problem is, the reason for the device would have to persist, and the enforcer of the device would have to be active in the care and feeding of the subject. One cannot simply lock the cage or belt on the poor schmuck, and set him loose. Even if he really desires wearing this device, at some point it becomes like wearing an artificial limb when you still have the real thing: pointless.

Chastity devices can prohibit, or at least make very difficult the act of masturbation, but they have to be used in an appropriate context. If the prevention of masturbation is the reason, maybe the whole premise of FLR is at jeopardy. After all, a submissive man can be told, “Do not masturbate!” and that would be the end of it. If he disobeys, he is not submissive enough, and he needs to be …

And here is where we get wrapped around the axle. I am not trying to make fun of this odd relationship. After all, I have experienced, and still do, much of it. But I am suggesting that none of this is real. All are wonderfully sexual and sensual games that can be part of a lifestyle for years. But it can also change in a moment. It is because it is consensual, and that is great. There are no rules other than what the two of you agree. Ignore anything other people tell you unless it has to do with “don’t do this or your […] will fall off.” I am all for experimentation, but I don’t want to be the posthumous recipient of one of the Darwin Awards.

The bottom line is, masturbation is beneficial, and don't anybody believe otherwise.

Not The Ring Trilogy

This is the last one on the ring. I promise. Unless someone requests more. I could not take pictures of the rings together prior to this time because the one I usually wear was in place, and the cage was also in place, which contained the ring. Today MW had me remove the cage. Because of some swelling of the little guy that is caused by the cage, she had me remove the ring also. It took some effort and trickery, but the ring came off. Consequently, I took this opportunity to photograph the twin rings while they were both idle.


In the first picture you see two rings. Both show my reflection with a window behind me as I am using the camera. Of course, I don’t really look like that: because of the concavity of the rings, my image is distorted. The ring on the left is the one MW wears when she chooses to do so. I polish it as necessary. The one on the right is the one I wear whenever she decides, which is much of the time. The rings looked identical originally: both shining silver, almost transparent. MW’s ring retained that feature, whereas the one I wear has developed an attractive irridescent greenish patina, which we chose not to remove.

In the second picture you see the same two rings from a different perspective. They look more real and more substantial. You can see the difference in size, my ring being slightly larger. I have tried to put on her ring once, but after a few minutes of struggle I decided against continuing. I still remember the gold ring that I had to cut off with a bolt cutter before …



Previously I referred to a problem with respect to using this ring. The problem had nothing to do with a metabolic reaction to the metal. Rather, it was a reaction to the physical constraint that the ring imposed. Consequently, a physical change took place in the little guy.

The Rings

Some years ago while in college I worked at jobs that made the wearing of a wedding ring, or any kind of ring for that matter, hazardous. Consequently, I left my wedding ring in a drawer at home. My wife was understanding, and did not think that I wanted to enhance my flirting possibilities by the lack of displaying a wedding ring.

An anniversary was coming up, and my wife (she was not yet MW then) decided to get me something special. She visited a jeweler, and described to him the kind of ring she wanted. It was to be of gold, about a quarter inch wide, thick band, with no sharp edges. She gave the jeweler the inner diameter needed. The jeweler said, “Your husband must be a large man to have fingers this big.”

“The ring is not for his finger,” she answered.

There was no more to be said at that point.

On the anniversary she presented the ring to me. I was pleased, and tried it on all of my fingers. Alas, it was too big. She just smiled, and said, “There is one you haven’t tried.”

I was quick to realize what the ring was for. But I had to work fast. With a bit of manhandling I was able to manipulate it on into a position just behind the glans.

It was a good fit at first. I could wear it at work without worry about damages to it or my fingers. I experienced some pain during nocturnal erections, but it was somewhat erotic, and I became accustomed to it.

After some years the configuration of the little guy must have adapted to the constriction, for in cool weather the fit became rather loose. A couple of times the ring fell off. I decided then that instead of losing the ring, I would just keep in on my dresser, and wear it only when the little guy tended to be big, such as under provocation, in warm weather, and also, while at home.

My wife, MW by this time, was aware of this, so she decided to get us another anniversary present. She did some research on the Internet and found it. The present was a pair of silver rings. One smaller for her, and one larger, but not quite as large as the gold ring, for me. It takes a bit of effort to put it on, but this is unlikely to work itself off without lubrication and some force. This is the ring shown in my previous post. However, it had caused another problem of sorts. I will not go into that this time.