The Last Day Of Her Vacation
Saturday came, the day when I was to join MW at the resort for her last evening there. I packed my bag late afternoon, and left to do just that. On the way I stopped in town to buy some wine and other essentials and then entered the freeway to drive across the valley.
Upon my arrival she and the girls, Laura and Beatrice, were happy to see me as usual with the accompanying hugs, etc. We sat around sipping wine until dinnertime. I barbecued a steak for each of us. We had a pleasant dinner. Afterward I set up the massage table (we never travel light). I have a shoulder condition that I have been nursing back to usability. One of the ladies, Laura, is into healing, so she volunteered the help of the three of them to fix me real good. I am not much of a supporter of psychic healing, but I figured that I couldn’t go wrong with three women getting their hands on my body at the same time. I just hoped that the Little Guy would cooperate by not making a spectacle of himself. Even though I was dressed in shorts (outerwear) and teeshirt, he has a way to draw attention. I was ordered up on the massage table on my back, and then they took it from there.
If at this point you are expecting lurid details of an intimate massage, you may be disappointed. About the closest was when Laura felt bump under my shirt. “Have you seen a doctor about this?” she said. My wife answered before I had realized what bump she was talking about, “That’s his nipple.” I guess I should have had my shirt off to avoid misunderstandings of this nature. I wonder what they would have thought of the other lump that was forming further south of my nipple. Alas, they did not discover that one. I enjoyed being their center of attention.
After the session broke up MW and I retired to the mistress suite. I had expectations of sexual nature, but I could tell the she was not quite ready. It was also late, and we knew that we had to be up early, so we got naked and went to bed. We shared some skin, and then I passed out.
Going Home
I was up early the next morning. MW and her nocturnal friends were still asleep, so I left for the dining room where I set up the computer again to catch up with some chores. I checked MW a few times before the sun was up. I assumed that she would not mind being awakened around eight. I made coffee and returned to the bedroom to kiss her butt awake. I took my time to run my tongue over her twin dimples while inhaling her pleasantly musky aroma. She was up, I was up. We set in bed sipping coffee.
The plan we made the night before was to leave well before checkout time. I had a lot of work to do before I had to leave on another trip that involved a six-hour drive. I started thinking that this would put MW in a difficult situation. Her planned activities with her friends would be shortened, they would be rushed, she would need to do some chores at home that I normally do, and I would still be way behind schedule to set off on my trip. After being apart for a week already, except the three times I already mentioned, I would be gone for another four or five days. It was apparent that she did not want me to leave. She actually missed me. I made arrangements to postpone my trip until the next day.
After coffee we played a bit, and I put on something to make me appear decent in polite company. Read that as “I did not want to scare the straights with my PA piercing, tortured tits, and shaved balls.” I put on my athletic shorts and tried to keep my poor tits out of view. The women were in the living room already packed. I apologized for being two hours late in the implementation of our plan, and asked them to relax, for after we check out we are going to lunch. After they tossed around a lot of guilt, and worry about my late start of my trip, I generously allowed them to thank me profusely. When MW showed up all dressed, she found three happy people.
Not having eaten since dinner the night before, I was ready for breakfast. MW had other Ideas, and I began to load the Beast. The luggage, food, and furniture were to go into three distinct heaps on the floor, which I could then translate to the vehicle. There was a good reason for this. The longest time was consumed by unloading the refrigerator. Since I was the only one with an ice chest, MW ended up loading it to the gills with perishables from the almost full refrigerator. She always returns home with more food than she takes on a trip.
I checked out at the front desk, and we were leaving just as the maid pushed her cart into the unit. We agreed to meet at the Dos Amigos restaurant for lunch. The two ladies went ahead to, I assume, enjoy a drink, while MW and I drove to Beatrice’s condo and I unloaded their luggage. As I said, there was a lot. Only ours remained in the Beast. We joined them at the restaurant.
We shot a couple of hours on lunch, then MW I headed back toward home.
At Home Again
Our dogs and cats were happy to see us. I unloaded the luggage and ice chests, and attended to chores. By the time I finished we were ready to have a drink and relax. But MW still had things for me to do. After I showered she had me put on the CB3000. It was not for punishment or denial; it was just because she could make me do it. While in my natural state I did some computer work for her, paid some bills, and was finally in a position to relax early evening.
We enjoyed the evening. It was good to be home again. I suggested that I could get a real early start on my trip in the morning. She expressed her wish to have coffee with me on the top deck, something that she missed while she was away. It was thus decided by her that I would leave later, in order to give her my time.
In the morning I was up early again, did some messing around on the Internet, and bumped into her in the dark unexpectedly. It appears that one of the cats awakened her. Dawn was just becoming visible. I made our coffee, and we met on the upper deck. The morning air was cool enough to be pleasant, due to the breeze. We talked until the sun came up from behind the mountain.
We returned to the bedroom where she instructed me to remove the cage. I did, and was back with her in a flash. She drew me on top of her and did that wonderful thing with her fingers and my on/off switches.
“You know, I could give you your thrill afterward, I hinted that maybe this time she would allow me to server her orally after I have had mine.
“You could do it now,” she replied.
I did not wait, but turned around and began to do that wonderfully fragrant and tasty chore that I love so much.
I think that she was trying too hard. By her admittance she had one orgasm, but I could tell that it was not an earthshaking event. She stopped me after that because of an instant headache. We paused, and the headache was gone in a while. I rejoined her at the top and we continued with very traditional sex.
She whispered, “Maybe I will have you clean me afterward.”
She usually says something like that to mess with my mind, so maybe this time she meant it, I thought. Whether or not she meant it, it did not happen. I did have an excellent sendoff. It’s interesting how we behaved almost like newlyweds, but with a kink.
After I finished some chores I had breakfast, and then loaded my luggage into the Beast. It took me a long time to get away, because somehow she kept finding more things for me to do. I don’t think that the dead rat floating in the bucket of water outside the front door was done by her in an attempt to delay my departure. We have had some rains. In any case I did have to dispatch the dead animal.
The last chore she had for me was to photograph her standing on the bridge while I stood below with the camera. It was done, and I could leave on my trip. We kissed again, and I was gone.
Showing posts with label CB3000. Show all posts
Showing posts with label CB3000. Show all posts
Monday, September 1, 2008
Saturday, August 30, 2008
Problems With Chastity Devices
Why Use A Chastity Device?
I am beginning to think that there are no true chastity devices, only tokens. Consider the origin of this. Back in the era of the Crusades a Lord left his Lady for years at a time. Whether or not she was the kind who would stray was irrelevant. He went off to pursue his needs, and left her to want her needs. So who was going to provide them? He was getting his, but was she expected to remain chaste? If she would, why? By the way, it was not the Lord who was wearing the chastity device.
So, whether or not his approach to the solution was justified, her views were not addressed. She may have been willing and able to remain chaste, but he was so insecure that he would not trust her. Then again, if she was such a flake that she would screw any male with a hard on, a chastity device was simply working the symptom, not the cause. I am just saying that on the long run, it was wrong!
Is all of this is a Big Fantasy?
Getting back to the present, I feel that it is still wrong. If you don’t trust your partner, get rid of him. You don’t need some horny schmuck who will get his jollies at the slightest provocation and give you a sexually transmitted disease as an unintended side effect.
If all you worry about is his daily masturbation, but you get all the sex you want from him anyway, why should you care?
If he is such an asshole who masturbates to the point that he has no use for you, then get him therapy or get rid of him. I mean, really, people, try to solve the problem rather than mess with the symptoms!
I don’t know what percentage of the material out there that deals with chastity is real. My guess is a few percent, if that much. Maybe one percent. The rest is male fantasy. If you want examples of fake stuff, contact me, and I will give you examples. It is far more difficult to give you true stories.
Now that I have badmouthed [the myth of] male chastity, I can get to the meat of the matter, so to speak. We are all weird in some way, and some of us are weird sexually. For example, I like CBT, D/S, serving my wife. I want to be dominated sexually, and, difficult to believe, emotionally and psychologically, as long as all that is not in a really weird way, such as really hurting someone.
I can function as a normal human. I don’t frequent prostitutes or professional dominas. I just need a little kink in my life to spice up the mundane tasks that I face daily. Love alone will not suffice. I am not Sir Lancelot. I am more like Sir Frigging Horny. Give me some of this, and I will give you a lot of what you want. Simple.
The only thing that chastity has to do with me is that I am true to my wife. That would change if she no longer wanted me. As I said, I am not Sir Lancelot, but I am just as devoted to her. But I need something in return. Love, care, food, companionship are nice and necessary. But there is the other stuff that I mentioned, part of which is the toys that were the subject of this treatise. I am fascinated with them. If MW pays attention to my interest, she can use any device she wishes for any length of time. Or not. It is her attention that I crave. I also crave the devices, but I don’t need to get too technical to illustrate my point.
The Problems
Some of you may be tired of this subject popping up at a high frequency. It is as if that is all that supposedly submissive men think about. I have said before that I am not exactly submissive, but I submit to my wife as long as she wants me to. I would love more of her control, but I must be realistic.
I have also said that we play with chastity. I love the feeling of helplessness when I know that there is a chance of her forcing me to do things. A device such as this can be subtle, such as under clothes, yet I know exactly where I stand. It can be blatant, such as when I am not wearing clothes. It is totally unnecessary for me to wear such a device because I am honorable, and if she says, “You will not touch your male parts,” I will not touch them. Not because I am physically prevented, although that in itself is a great turn on. Because I agreed to follow her order.
Some of these devices are not real, rather, they are a token of what they are supposed to be. Say, a piece of plastic that I could crush with one hand would not keep me from cheating in any way. The token part is to show her that I take it seriously enough so that I don’t try to defeat it. Then there are those that would take a lot more than a good squeeze by one hand to defeat even in the slightest manner.
As most men who are into this, and as some couples, we have gone through many devices. Some of my early homemade devices were downright silly and very primitive. We bought some over the years, used them for a while, and dismissed them. I am still trying to find one that works for me.
I find the “belt style” devices intriguing. I love to read about them, I like to see men in them. In spite of that I am not even tempted to buy one. It is something I assume that I could wear at home while being in my natural state only as a punishment or for my wife’s amusement. There are many reasons for my not wanting to have one. The most compelling is a matter of personal cleanliness. When I have to rely on the keyholder for that purpose, that is asking too much, and can be just too inconvenient.
The trivial devices such as “seven gates of hell” are strictly for D/S play. They can be sexy, fun, and cause enough pain and humiliation to make them worth the effort, but they are non-functional for chastity or orgasm control. If chastity devices have leather parts, or parts that rust or get otherwise damaged by liquids, their effectiveness and life span are limited.
Metal devices were the precursors of the now ubiquitous plastics. Back when a man did not have to worry about metal detectors picking up his hardware, a wife could send her cheating-prone hubby on a business trip with it on. She must now rely on plastic. Metal devices have class. They tend to exude an aura that plastic, especially the colorful ones, cannot match. Metal also suggests a permanence and strength, although a bolt cutter could make confetti out of it in a hurry. My favorite is stainless steel. That is not the same as chrome-plated pot metal or aluminum.
Plastics are a great innovation. They are easy to mass-produce, cheap to make, don’t set off alarms, are light weight and come in colors (yuck!). They also easily break, and are easily defeated by an unscrupulous wearer who does not mind having his fun now and paying for it later.
Variations on the theme dealing with “safety”, “security”, and functionality have come along in the form of piercings. In a way some devices take advantage of piercings and would not function well without them. In an other way the piercing was in itself a chastity device that became enhanced by the newly acquired hardware. This is one reason why I pierced my little guy. The jewelry that I can wear is barbaric, but damned sexy. It is also versatile in D/S. Just visualize me being lead by a leash attached to a Prince Albert ring that is permanently in place place. See We Are Playing Again.
My first real chastity device was a CB2000 (see Mistress Wife Is At Home ). We still use it from time to time. MW likes to vary the scenario and I am all for it. It broke, and I fixed it. With my fixes it still works as well as when it was new. However, I had a problem with long-term wear, say more than a full day. Not that I am squeamish, too sensitive, or that I can’t stand some pain and discomfort. Here is what happens. My little guy is uncut. That means a fully functional foreskin is there for all to see. Well, maybe only those who pay first. Without the cage there is no problem.
With the cage, the foreskin in place covering the head, urination tends to leave residues even after careful splashing of water onto the cage. So there is some unpleasant smell as a result. Trying to fix this problem I have pulled back the foreskin, and left the head bare, so to speak. It works because the little guy fills the space in the cage. I even get a thrill out of it, and the cleaning effort, even when I am away from home, tends to be more effective. This, however, creates another problem. My foreskin swells, and I must assume that leaving it swollen for more than a couple of days will cause some harm other than just pain. So this is not a long term solution.
We tried a CB3000 lately. It is a slight improvement in looks and size over its predecessor. I like the looks. It is sexy, but I like it less than the predecessor, because my parts will not dry as readily due to the almost solid tube. In other respects it has identical problems. My solution to this foreskin-swelling problem is to have the device off for a few hours each day. Even in a very strictly controlled Keyholding relationship this is possible if one tries. It even opens possibilities of D/S that a 24/7 device would not allow. For example, some keyholders will bindfold or handcuff a male while the device is off. A more interesting and less cumbersome approach was offered by a male in his relationship. His wife hands him a solid steel hinged collar which he locks around his neck She has the key to the lock. After that he is allowed to remove the cage. The collar remains on him until she decides otherwise, which will most likely be when the cage is reinstalled. Since he has to go out once in a while, like to work, it goes without saying that the cage goes back on unless he works at some porno shop. He did not say what would happen if he misused his cock while out of the cage, but I imagine that the issue could be addressed by the keyolder prior to the exchange of collar for cage.
MW and I are also using a strip of plastic called the Kali’s Teeth Bracelet. It may be a misnomer as far as the “bracelet” part is concerned, but it is effective to a certain extent. I could still orgasm wearing it, but no male or female would want to be, ah, entered by me, so that sort of cheating is not really feasible. This too, is a short-term device. The last time I had this on I wrote in one of my recent posts . It was on the order of three days, and MW wanted me to keep in on for another three days until we meet again (she was out of town for a week). Well, aside from the extreme pain that woke me every morning over and over again, this too caused some swelling in addition to the pinprick holes that the nasty little teeth created. My sweet and perverse MW also likes to gently knee me in the balls from time to time. Wearing this device makes that very painful for me. Sure, the pain is temporary, and hurts too much only when I have an erection. Then again I have an erection most of the time when she is around, especially when she is having fun with me.
I pointed our in an earlier posting that I have considered buying the #12A from Miss Lori’s site (see Lori's Devices). This seemed to have solved all the problems that people had with other devices. But I had a hard time visualizing how it is used. I wrote to her expressing this concern, and also that my measurements are all over the map, and that trying to fit me to any device may be futile. She answered promptly. Among other things, she said, “… Your length does not matter … The #12 series does not allow erections so your length will not change that much using this device.”
Ah " …, does not allow erections?" Where do they go? I mean, when my little guy goes from zero to seven inches in two seconds and changes from finger size to, you know, stand back. It is almost like pulling a ripcord on an inflatable boat: if you stand too close, you may get a pair of fat lips. So, how does “not allowing” work exactly? Could I be facing a bit of unintended side effects, like maybe extreme bulging in unnatural ways and places? Maybe a blowout? Miss Lori was very nice to have included a picture that demonstrated to a certain extent why length does not matter. I have not asked permission to show it, so I can’t. But it does tell me some things. (1) #12A, or equivalent variety from her toy store, is difficult to install, but once on it stays on, (2) extreme size changes of my anatomy caused by temperature variations and the effect of sexual provocation would be very exciting, but not necessarily in a good way, (3) the issue of foreskin is not addressed.
Being as handy as I am with tools, I fabricated a prototype of the #12A just to investigate the feasibility. I incurred a bit of damage, it was fun, and I can try it again, but overall my conclusions stand. Now, if I could “consumer test" this device without having to pay first, I could do it justice. It would take going through the seasons, so to speak, to give it a chance to handle reactions to temperature changes in addition to MW's presence that tends to inflate my versatile parts. But I would prefer not to spend all that money just to find out what I think I already know.
Those of you who don’t know will find this funny. My little guy and the boys change configuration to the extent that you would not recognize them from moment to moment. In cold weather the little guy pulls in to the point where I may have to search for him sometimes. The boys snuggle up with the scrotum puckering around to provide a thermal insulation. The whole package is barely there.
In warm weather, however, the picture is much different. You would not believe that you are seeing the same set of parts. The little guy is no longer little. The boys swing low.
Given these seasonal variations, I have had some real problems with the cage variety of chastity device. It becomes very pressing in cold weather. If I loosen it to accommodate the cramped parts, then the cage falls off when I get warm, such as in a shower.
I know, you can’t satisfy everybody every time. The Lori's #12 device is perfect: shiny like jewelry, barbaric, and about 100 percent effective. However, I would not want a permanent erection with it on. I would love to have this item. I would love to play with it. I would love to suffer using it. I would love to have MW teasing me with it on just to see me lose control. But dang it! It cannot be a long-term device because of the foreskin problem.
No, I will not get a circumcision. I like the little guy just the way he is. But the #12 series of chastity devices assume that there is no foreskin. I don’t see a way around that. So, I could buy one, and we would play with it, but we could not install it and then forget it for the rest of my life as some users claim. Alas, it would be just another expensive toy. Then again, aren’t they all?
I would like to know whether I am the only one with the swelling foreskin problem. Have any of you guys experienced this? Of course, if your thing is already cut, you would not have the answer (sort of like a woman, and I don’t mean disrespect, not knowing about the direct effect of Kali). Still, I am listening.
Being Humbled Again
MW has been doing some unrelated research and came across "information" which is relevant to the above material.
I am convinced that we must not believe everything we read on the Internet. I have been saying this for years. So what do I do? I succumb to the very temptation that I try to discredit. This time it has to do with our interpretation of chastity devices. In specific, their origin. I admit that I did not research it before presenting it as the basis of my post. The bottom line is, according to this "information" the medieval folks did not invent the chastity device as we know them today. It is a nice legend, but we must give credit where credit is due. Then again, I have not checked the authenticity of this new "information", so I may still be wrong. If you are interested, check out this
http://www.arizonapowerexchange.org/newsletter/Apex_Sept2008.pdf
It is probably more credible then what we find on the websites of vendors of chastity devices, or blogs by proponents of male chastity.
I am beginning to think that there are no true chastity devices, only tokens. Consider the origin of this. Back in the era of the Crusades a Lord left his Lady for years at a time. Whether or not she was the kind who would stray was irrelevant. He went off to pursue his needs, and left her to want her needs. So who was going to provide them? He was getting his, but was she expected to remain chaste? If she would, why? By the way, it was not the Lord who was wearing the chastity device.
So, whether or not his approach to the solution was justified, her views were not addressed. She may have been willing and able to remain chaste, but he was so insecure that he would not trust her. Then again, if she was such a flake that she would screw any male with a hard on, a chastity device was simply working the symptom, not the cause. I am just saying that on the long run, it was wrong!
Is all of this is a Big Fantasy?
Getting back to the present, I feel that it is still wrong. If you don’t trust your partner, get rid of him. You don’t need some horny schmuck who will get his jollies at the slightest provocation and give you a sexually transmitted disease as an unintended side effect.
If all you worry about is his daily masturbation, but you get all the sex you want from him anyway, why should you care?
If he is such an asshole who masturbates to the point that he has no use for you, then get him therapy or get rid of him. I mean, really, people, try to solve the problem rather than mess with the symptoms!
I don’t know what percentage of the material out there that deals with chastity is real. My guess is a few percent, if that much. Maybe one percent. The rest is male fantasy. If you want examples of fake stuff, contact me, and I will give you examples. It is far more difficult to give you true stories.
Now that I have badmouthed [the myth of] male chastity, I can get to the meat of the matter, so to speak. We are all weird in some way, and some of us are weird sexually. For example, I like CBT, D/S, serving my wife. I want to be dominated sexually, and, difficult to believe, emotionally and psychologically, as long as all that is not in a really weird way, such as really hurting someone.
I can function as a normal human. I don’t frequent prostitutes or professional dominas. I just need a little kink in my life to spice up the mundane tasks that I face daily. Love alone will not suffice. I am not Sir Lancelot. I am more like Sir Frigging Horny. Give me some of this, and I will give you a lot of what you want. Simple.
The only thing that chastity has to do with me is that I am true to my wife. That would change if she no longer wanted me. As I said, I am not Sir Lancelot, but I am just as devoted to her. But I need something in return. Love, care, food, companionship are nice and necessary. But there is the other stuff that I mentioned, part of which is the toys that were the subject of this treatise. I am fascinated with them. If MW pays attention to my interest, she can use any device she wishes for any length of time. Or not. It is her attention that I crave. I also crave the devices, but I don’t need to get too technical to illustrate my point.
The Problems
Some of you may be tired of this subject popping up at a high frequency. It is as if that is all that supposedly submissive men think about. I have said before that I am not exactly submissive, but I submit to my wife as long as she wants me to. I would love more of her control, but I must be realistic.
I have also said that we play with chastity. I love the feeling of helplessness when I know that there is a chance of her forcing me to do things. A device such as this can be subtle, such as under clothes, yet I know exactly where I stand. It can be blatant, such as when I am not wearing clothes. It is totally unnecessary for me to wear such a device because I am honorable, and if she says, “You will not touch your male parts,” I will not touch them. Not because I am physically prevented, although that in itself is a great turn on. Because I agreed to follow her order.
Some of these devices are not real, rather, they are a token of what they are supposed to be. Say, a piece of plastic that I could crush with one hand would not keep me from cheating in any way. The token part is to show her that I take it seriously enough so that I don’t try to defeat it. Then there are those that would take a lot more than a good squeeze by one hand to defeat even in the slightest manner.
As most men who are into this, and as some couples, we have gone through many devices. Some of my early homemade devices were downright silly and very primitive. We bought some over the years, used them for a while, and dismissed them. I am still trying to find one that works for me.
I find the “belt style” devices intriguing. I love to read about them, I like to see men in them. In spite of that I am not even tempted to buy one. It is something I assume that I could wear at home while being in my natural state only as a punishment or for my wife’s amusement. There are many reasons for my not wanting to have one. The most compelling is a matter of personal cleanliness. When I have to rely on the keyholder for that purpose, that is asking too much, and can be just too inconvenient.
The trivial devices such as “seven gates of hell” are strictly for D/S play. They can be sexy, fun, and cause enough pain and humiliation to make them worth the effort, but they are non-functional for chastity or orgasm control. If chastity devices have leather parts, or parts that rust or get otherwise damaged by liquids, their effectiveness and life span are limited.
Metal devices were the precursors of the now ubiquitous plastics. Back when a man did not have to worry about metal detectors picking up his hardware, a wife could send her cheating-prone hubby on a business trip with it on. She must now rely on plastic. Metal devices have class. They tend to exude an aura that plastic, especially the colorful ones, cannot match. Metal also suggests a permanence and strength, although a bolt cutter could make confetti out of it in a hurry. My favorite is stainless steel. That is not the same as chrome-plated pot metal or aluminum.
Plastics are a great innovation. They are easy to mass-produce, cheap to make, don’t set off alarms, are light weight and come in colors (yuck!). They also easily break, and are easily defeated by an unscrupulous wearer who does not mind having his fun now and paying for it later.
Variations on the theme dealing with “safety”, “security”, and functionality have come along in the form of piercings. In a way some devices take advantage of piercings and would not function well without them. In an other way the piercing was in itself a chastity device that became enhanced by the newly acquired hardware. This is one reason why I pierced my little guy. The jewelry that I can wear is barbaric, but damned sexy. It is also versatile in D/S. Just visualize me being lead by a leash attached to a Prince Albert ring that is permanently in place place. See We Are Playing Again.
My first real chastity device was a CB2000 (see Mistress Wife Is At Home ). We still use it from time to time. MW likes to vary the scenario and I am all for it. It broke, and I fixed it. With my fixes it still works as well as when it was new. However, I had a problem with long-term wear, say more than a full day. Not that I am squeamish, too sensitive, or that I can’t stand some pain and discomfort. Here is what happens. My little guy is uncut. That means a fully functional foreskin is there for all to see. Well, maybe only those who pay first. Without the cage there is no problem.
With the cage, the foreskin in place covering the head, urination tends to leave residues even after careful splashing of water onto the cage. So there is some unpleasant smell as a result. Trying to fix this problem I have pulled back the foreskin, and left the head bare, so to speak. It works because the little guy fills the space in the cage. I even get a thrill out of it, and the cleaning effort, even when I am away from home, tends to be more effective. This, however, creates another problem. My foreskin swells, and I must assume that leaving it swollen for more than a couple of days will cause some harm other than just pain. So this is not a long term solution.
We tried a CB3000 lately. It is a slight improvement in looks and size over its predecessor. I like the looks. It is sexy, but I like it less than the predecessor, because my parts will not dry as readily due to the almost solid tube. In other respects it has identical problems. My solution to this foreskin-swelling problem is to have the device off for a few hours each day. Even in a very strictly controlled Keyholding relationship this is possible if one tries. It even opens possibilities of D/S that a 24/7 device would not allow. For example, some keyholders will bindfold or handcuff a male while the device is off. A more interesting and less cumbersome approach was offered by a male in his relationship. His wife hands him a solid steel hinged collar which he locks around his neck She has the key to the lock. After that he is allowed to remove the cage. The collar remains on him until she decides otherwise, which will most likely be when the cage is reinstalled. Since he has to go out once in a while, like to work, it goes without saying that the cage goes back on unless he works at some porno shop. He did not say what would happen if he misused his cock while out of the cage, but I imagine that the issue could be addressed by the keyolder prior to the exchange of collar for cage.
MW and I are also using a strip of plastic called the Kali’s Teeth Bracelet. It may be a misnomer as far as the “bracelet” part is concerned, but it is effective to a certain extent. I could still orgasm wearing it, but no male or female would want to be, ah, entered by me, so that sort of cheating is not really feasible. This too, is a short-term device. The last time I had this on I wrote in one of my recent posts . It was on the order of three days, and MW wanted me to keep in on for another three days until we meet again (she was out of town for a week). Well, aside from the extreme pain that woke me every morning over and over again, this too caused some swelling in addition to the pinprick holes that the nasty little teeth created. My sweet and perverse MW also likes to gently knee me in the balls from time to time. Wearing this device makes that very painful for me. Sure, the pain is temporary, and hurts too much only when I have an erection. Then again I have an erection most of the time when she is around, especially when she is having fun with me.
I pointed our in an earlier posting that I have considered buying the #12A from Miss Lori’s site (see Lori's Devices). This seemed to have solved all the problems that people had with other devices. But I had a hard time visualizing how it is used. I wrote to her expressing this concern, and also that my measurements are all over the map, and that trying to fit me to any device may be futile. She answered promptly. Among other things, she said, “… Your length does not matter … The #12 series does not allow erections so your length will not change that much using this device.”
Ah " …, does not allow erections?" Where do they go? I mean, when my little guy goes from zero to seven inches in two seconds and changes from finger size to, you know, stand back. It is almost like pulling a ripcord on an inflatable boat: if you stand too close, you may get a pair of fat lips. So, how does “not allowing” work exactly? Could I be facing a bit of unintended side effects, like maybe extreme bulging in unnatural ways and places? Maybe a blowout? Miss Lori was very nice to have included a picture that demonstrated to a certain extent why length does not matter. I have not asked permission to show it, so I can’t. But it does tell me some things. (1) #12A, or equivalent variety from her toy store, is difficult to install, but once on it stays on, (2) extreme size changes of my anatomy caused by temperature variations and the effect of sexual provocation would be very exciting, but not necessarily in a good way, (3) the issue of foreskin is not addressed.
Being as handy as I am with tools, I fabricated a prototype of the #12A just to investigate the feasibility. I incurred a bit of damage, it was fun, and I can try it again, but overall my conclusions stand. Now, if I could “consumer test" this device without having to pay first, I could do it justice. It would take going through the seasons, so to speak, to give it a chance to handle reactions to temperature changes in addition to MW's presence that tends to inflate my versatile parts. But I would prefer not to spend all that money just to find out what I think I already know.
Those of you who don’t know will find this funny. My little guy and the boys change configuration to the extent that you would not recognize them from moment to moment. In cold weather the little guy pulls in to the point where I may have to search for him sometimes. The boys snuggle up with the scrotum puckering around to provide a thermal insulation. The whole package is barely there.
In warm weather, however, the picture is much different. You would not believe that you are seeing the same set of parts. The little guy is no longer little. The boys swing low.
Given these seasonal variations, I have had some real problems with the cage variety of chastity device. It becomes very pressing in cold weather. If I loosen it to accommodate the cramped parts, then the cage falls off when I get warm, such as in a shower.
I know, you can’t satisfy everybody every time. The Lori's #12 device is perfect: shiny like jewelry, barbaric, and about 100 percent effective. However, I would not want a permanent erection with it on. I would love to have this item. I would love to play with it. I would love to suffer using it. I would love to have MW teasing me with it on just to see me lose control. But dang it! It cannot be a long-term device because of the foreskin problem.
No, I will not get a circumcision. I like the little guy just the way he is. But the #12 series of chastity devices assume that there is no foreskin. I don’t see a way around that. So, I could buy one, and we would play with it, but we could not install it and then forget it for the rest of my life as some users claim. Alas, it would be just another expensive toy. Then again, aren’t they all?
I would like to know whether I am the only one with the swelling foreskin problem. Have any of you guys experienced this? Of course, if your thing is already cut, you would not have the answer (sort of like a woman, and I don’t mean disrespect, not knowing about the direct effect of Kali). Still, I am listening.
Being Humbled Again
MW has been doing some unrelated research and came across "information" which is relevant to the above material.
I am convinced that we must not believe everything we read on the Internet. I have been saying this for years. So what do I do? I succumb to the very temptation that I try to discredit. This time it has to do with our interpretation of chastity devices. In specific, their origin. I admit that I did not research it before presenting it as the basis of my post. The bottom line is, according to this "information" the medieval folks did not invent the chastity device as we know them today. It is a nice legend, but we must give credit where credit is due. Then again, I have not checked the authenticity of this new "information", so I may still be wrong. If you are interested, check out this
http://www.arizonapowerexchange.org/newsletter/Apex_Sept2008.pdf
It is probably more credible then what we find on the websites of vendors of chastity devices, or blogs by proponents of male chastity.
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
Our “Annual Drive-each-other-crazy Obligatory Visit to her Parents in another State”
We do this once a year. Before I present our thrilling trip, I want to point out that MW endured some years of family vacations with my parents along, so she had earned some credit that she has been using up lately. My parents are long gone; it is now only hers...
July 28, 2008
July 28, 2008
Due to an on-going restoration of my office all of our computer equipment is squeezed into our bedroom that already has the regular bedroom stuff and then some! This is a big cramp: two desks, two chairs, one work station, one filing cabinet, three computers with monitors, printer, scanner, book case, and miscellaneous junk. I have just finished cabling so that we don’t trip over them.
I am up at 3 AM working on my computer. I try to be quiet and don’t have any lights on except the little USB light. Mistress Wife creeps silently out of bed and moves as if sleepwalking. I can’t discern her form in the dark, but I hear an occasional crunch as she steps on toys the cats left. I ask, “Are you up for good?” She does not answer. I walk to her and run my lips over her lovely parts. Again I ask what the problem is.
“We will be leaving in 28 hours.”
She is already stressed over what could be a good time. Pity.
July 29, 2008
We are sipping my robust brew on the front deck watching the bunnies, quail, doves, thrashers, etc. She begins to make oblique references to something that did not register on my mind immediately. Then at some point I feel the edge of former hurt. I remember forgetting her anniversary of something or other. Today is her birthday. Suddenly I understand the subtle pokes at my psyche. I put down my coffee, and blurt, “I will return.” I hasten to the garage where I kept an item just for this occasion. I left it in the garage because she stays out of there, so it was unlikely for her to find it too soon. It was meant as her birthday gift.
I retrieve the box and go upstairs to present the contents. She is thrilled. It is, by her words, “A lovely gift from my pet. A glass turtle. He remembered my birthday.” I am in a state of grace. I may be totally guilty of something in the next minute, but for now I relish here appreciation of a decadent and frivolous beauty.
We are only an hour or so late leaving. I run to keep up with the demand for my services: take care of the animals, pack our miscellaneous electronic gear, pack my own stuff, and load a ton of material into the Beast. The Beast is a tall, big, beautiful, black truck that can accommodate the driver and five passengers, has four wheel drive and off-road equipment. Yes, we are decadent and proud of it.
“We will be leaving in 28 hours.”
She is already stressed over what could be a good time. Pity.
July 29, 2008
We are sipping my robust brew on the front deck watching the bunnies, quail, doves, thrashers, etc. She begins to make oblique references to something that did not register on my mind immediately. Then at some point I feel the edge of former hurt. I remember forgetting her anniversary of something or other. Today is her birthday. Suddenly I understand the subtle pokes at my psyche. I put down my coffee, and blurt, “I will return.” I hasten to the garage where I kept an item just for this occasion. I left it in the garage because she stays out of there, so it was unlikely for her to find it too soon. It was meant as her birthday gift.
I retrieve the box and go upstairs to present the contents. She is thrilled. It is, by her words, “A lovely gift from my pet. A glass turtle. He remembered my birthday.” I am in a state of grace. I may be totally guilty of something in the next minute, but for now I relish here appreciation of a decadent and frivolous beauty.
We are only an hour or so late leaving. I run to keep up with the demand for my services: take care of the animals, pack our miscellaneous electronic gear, pack my own stuff, and load a ton of material into the Beast. The Beast is a tall, big, beautiful, black truck that can accommodate the driver and five passengers, has four wheel drive and off-road equipment. Yes, we are decadent and proud of it.
I shower when I think that all that is done. She has me install the CB3000, and then I dress.
The way out of town is boring. I already know that I will suffer at least until we get to check into a motel in the evening. Tight cock ring, tight cage, in tight shorts, pressed upon by tight pants does not help as I sit driving. I keep adjusting the seat like John Candy in “Planes, Trains, and Automobiles” (until he breaks it). Even when I take a break to give the boys a chance to breathe I am in pain. In spite of that I appreciate her gesture. About half way to our first day’s destination we stop for a picnic lunch in an area just off the highway. Food is good; we relax a bit. I need to make a deposit, so I head into the bushes. Have you ever tried to pee with a cage on while trying to negotiate tight pants, tight shorts, and the wind? I should squat. The outcome is not bad, but I do have to wash my hands thoroughly.
At the motel after half a day of suffering she says, “Take off the device so that we can check for problems.” I finish unloading our equipment, which takes about twenty minutes. All the floor space in the room is taken up by our stuff that I don’t want to leave in the Beast overnight. I undress and remove the cage. Cleaning the equipment and shower time follows. She generously allows me to remain unfettered, but nothing much happens.
July 30, 2008
I am up early as usual and grouchy because there is no way for me to make or get coffee. I read a book, and keep glancing at her bare buns while thinking of what I would like to do with them. At some point I assume that she would not mind connecting with the world again, so I slip into bed behind her. While feeling her smooth curves with my hand, I snuggle up to her back. It takes a short time for the little guy to become the big guy. We enjoy our closeness for a while. Then she says, “We should try something we haven’t for a while. I guess what is coming up.
She lifts her knee, and then guides my slick tip between her lips. We try to connect for a few minutes. It sure would be nice to get down there and lubricate her fragrant private parts with my tongue before going further. Even afterward would be nice. She takes charge of the big guy, and guides him into her warm folds. At that point he takes charge, and I am along for the fantastic ride.
I load our equipment into the Beast, check out of the motel, and then drive through the small town to buy coffee and ice for the trip ahead. We head toward our destination at a relaxed pace, allowing all the stressed-out idiot vacationers to pass us on the two-lane highway. It’s not that I am dragging my ass, just that I stay with the speed limit primarily to conserve fuel and maintain a sane control over the situation. I am comfortable with my thoughts, also with the realization that MW did not bring up the subject of the cage, so it was neatly packed in my luggage. The boys are thankful.
Another half day of driving through the small roads of the colorful countryside brings us to our destination. I haul our equipment up to the second floor of the hotel. Foolishly I pour myself a drink. Being the day after her birthday she expects a fine dinner out. I already consumed half a shot of Scotch, so she expects me to be prostrate with alcohol in my innocent veins thereby being unable to choose, find, and drive to a fine restaurant. I am unfamiliar with the local streets and have no map and she knows that. In not so many words, I am in deep stuff. I feel that we have to go out to eat even if by a limousine.
After one drink neither my driving nor my reasoning ability are affected enough to matter. I decide to drive. The search for a restaurant does not go well. There are many, but with heavy traffic, and always being on the wrong side of the road from our target we are being selective. Driving into the sunset and looking through bug-smudged windshield while each of us is trying to satisfy the other, we are lucky to survive. A few miles down the street I turn back. After some more false starts we pick a decent Italian restaurant that does not seem to have too long a wait. As we sit in the lobby the contention between us is thick in the air. She is almost crying. After fifteen minutes of my concentration on the female customers we are escorted to a booth. Things improve from there. I order a glass of Cabernet Sauvignon from a private label. She orders tea, her favorite appetizer, and a salad. I order a smallish pasta meal. The wine is excellent. We mellow a bit as the evening progresses.
July 31, 2008
The reason for this trip is for MW to visit her parents. It is understood that I am to participate to the smallest extent possible. This decision is based on the tension, and resulting seriously bad times between us borne of earlier years’ experiences with the same. The problem is that she has an obligation that she can’t handle in a lighthearted manner. It goes deep. As a result, she needs my stable presence to assure her that she will not be sucked into a psychological twilight in handling conflicting emotions. I have a more simplistic way of handling situations: I get to the point and do what needs to be done. She, on the other hand, tries to satisfy everyone present, which ends up at her expense more than she can afford emotionally. In theory she could do all that. In practice it takes too much from her. This results in an amount of tension that neither of us can handle with grace.
When I pick her up at the end of her visit I had already spent several pleasant hours alone at the hotel, so I am in good shape. She, on the other hand, had spent the same hours building up stress like a coiled spring. I am aware of it, but not the extent of it.
We are in bed after watching a movie on one of our DVDs. I am ready to sleep; she tries to read to unwind a bit. With tremendous self-control she beats the mattress with her fists behind my back while she blurts the source of her angst. I understand. The only comment I make is, “I am glad that it was not my back that you have just pummeled. You are welcome to use a light instrument like a crop if you really feel the need, however.”
August 1, 2008
The morning begins with the expected stress. I make the mistake of offering her advice on how to handle her situation. It is not meant to be a lecture, but she takes it as such.
I am always on her side even when I think that she is wrong. She must know that. But when she is stressed like this, she may see things differently. We resolve some issues, and she decides to check her email on the Internet. We are staying at a hotel where Internet access is free. As a consequence, we have no recourse about the flaky service provided. She tries several times, but the connection goes in and out. Each time she complains. I remain silent since there is not anything that I can do, and I know that she is aware of it.
I drop her off at her relatives’ house, then return to the hotel for some hours of solitude. During the day I do some reading, some writing, and also visit some blogs of people who post their experiences on FLR. One particular posting strikes me as relevant to our relationship.
The way out of town is boring. I already know that I will suffer at least until we get to check into a motel in the evening. Tight cock ring, tight cage, in tight shorts, pressed upon by tight pants does not help as I sit driving. I keep adjusting the seat like John Candy in “Planes, Trains, and Automobiles” (until he breaks it). Even when I take a break to give the boys a chance to breathe I am in pain. In spite of that I appreciate her gesture. About half way to our first day’s destination we stop for a picnic lunch in an area just off the highway. Food is good; we relax a bit. I need to make a deposit, so I head into the bushes. Have you ever tried to pee with a cage on while trying to negotiate tight pants, tight shorts, and the wind? I should squat. The outcome is not bad, but I do have to wash my hands thoroughly.
At the motel after half a day of suffering she says, “Take off the device so that we can check for problems.” I finish unloading our equipment, which takes about twenty minutes. All the floor space in the room is taken up by our stuff that I don’t want to leave in the Beast overnight. I undress and remove the cage. Cleaning the equipment and shower time follows. She generously allows me to remain unfettered, but nothing much happens.
July 30, 2008
I am up early as usual and grouchy because there is no way for me to make or get coffee. I read a book, and keep glancing at her bare buns while thinking of what I would like to do with them. At some point I assume that she would not mind connecting with the world again, so I slip into bed behind her. While feeling her smooth curves with my hand, I snuggle up to her back. It takes a short time for the little guy to become the big guy. We enjoy our closeness for a while. Then she says, “We should try something we haven’t for a while. I guess what is coming up.
She lifts her knee, and then guides my slick tip between her lips. We try to connect for a few minutes. It sure would be nice to get down there and lubricate her fragrant private parts with my tongue before going further. Even afterward would be nice. She takes charge of the big guy, and guides him into her warm folds. At that point he takes charge, and I am along for the fantastic ride.
I load our equipment into the Beast, check out of the motel, and then drive through the small town to buy coffee and ice for the trip ahead. We head toward our destination at a relaxed pace, allowing all the stressed-out idiot vacationers to pass us on the two-lane highway. It’s not that I am dragging my ass, just that I stay with the speed limit primarily to conserve fuel and maintain a sane control over the situation. I am comfortable with my thoughts, also with the realization that MW did not bring up the subject of the cage, so it was neatly packed in my luggage. The boys are thankful.
Another half day of driving through the small roads of the colorful countryside brings us to our destination. I haul our equipment up to the second floor of the hotel. Foolishly I pour myself a drink. Being the day after her birthday she expects a fine dinner out. I already consumed half a shot of Scotch, so she expects me to be prostrate with alcohol in my innocent veins thereby being unable to choose, find, and drive to a fine restaurant. I am unfamiliar with the local streets and have no map and she knows that. In not so many words, I am in deep stuff. I feel that we have to go out to eat even if by a limousine.
After one drink neither my driving nor my reasoning ability are affected enough to matter. I decide to drive. The search for a restaurant does not go well. There are many, but with heavy traffic, and always being on the wrong side of the road from our target we are being selective. Driving into the sunset and looking through bug-smudged windshield while each of us is trying to satisfy the other, we are lucky to survive. A few miles down the street I turn back. After some more false starts we pick a decent Italian restaurant that does not seem to have too long a wait. As we sit in the lobby the contention between us is thick in the air. She is almost crying. After fifteen minutes of my concentration on the female customers we are escorted to a booth. Things improve from there. I order a glass of Cabernet Sauvignon from a private label. She orders tea, her favorite appetizer, and a salad. I order a smallish pasta meal. The wine is excellent. We mellow a bit as the evening progresses.
July 31, 2008
The reason for this trip is for MW to visit her parents. It is understood that I am to participate to the smallest extent possible. This decision is based on the tension, and resulting seriously bad times between us borne of earlier years’ experiences with the same. The problem is that she has an obligation that she can’t handle in a lighthearted manner. It goes deep. As a result, she needs my stable presence to assure her that she will not be sucked into a psychological twilight in handling conflicting emotions. I have a more simplistic way of handling situations: I get to the point and do what needs to be done. She, on the other hand, tries to satisfy everyone present, which ends up at her expense more than she can afford emotionally. In theory she could do all that. In practice it takes too much from her. This results in an amount of tension that neither of us can handle with grace.
When I pick her up at the end of her visit I had already spent several pleasant hours alone at the hotel, so I am in good shape. She, on the other hand, had spent the same hours building up stress like a coiled spring. I am aware of it, but not the extent of it.
We are in bed after watching a movie on one of our DVDs. I am ready to sleep; she tries to read to unwind a bit. With tremendous self-control she beats the mattress with her fists behind my back while she blurts the source of her angst. I understand. The only comment I make is, “I am glad that it was not my back that you have just pummeled. You are welcome to use a light instrument like a crop if you really feel the need, however.”
August 1, 2008
The morning begins with the expected stress. I make the mistake of offering her advice on how to handle her situation. It is not meant to be a lecture, but she takes it as such.
I am always on her side even when I think that she is wrong. She must know that. But when she is stressed like this, she may see things differently. We resolve some issues, and she decides to check her email on the Internet. We are staying at a hotel where Internet access is free. As a consequence, we have no recourse about the flaky service provided. She tries several times, but the connection goes in and out. Each time she complains. I remain silent since there is not anything that I can do, and I know that she is aware of it.
I drop her off at her relatives’ house, then return to the hotel for some hours of solitude. During the day I do some reading, some writing, and also visit some blogs of people who post their experiences on FLR. One particular posting strikes me as relevant to our relationship.
MW wants to be in charge, because she likes the perks of being in charge. On the other hand, she does not need or want the responsibility or the obligation that go with being in charge. In a simpleminded fashion I can assess this relationship as, “She gets the mine, and I get the shaft.” This is not as bad as one could assume since I love to get the shaft by her. But it is definitely not the ideal FLR. Given the stress-induced volatility of her nature this presents us with a difficult situation. She needs my complete attention, and I can’t give it to her under the circumstances. So, FLR is out the window, she feels abandoned by me, and we get nowhere in trying to explain how things really are. We don’t fight, just remain unsatisfied in most ways.
When she is stressed, she can’t force herself to be in charge. I would not expect her to arrange a full-scale DS session with me, but it would be nice if she just came out as a person who knows what she wants, and has me help her in any way that she needs. I could continue my role as a submissive husband to provide all that. Instead of telling me or even asking me to do things, she skirts issues and makes vague references that even in my best moments I would not understand. I don’t give her what she needs, and I fail as her submissive. The scenario reinforces her already negative feelings, so there is no chance of a reasonable solution.
The relevance to what I read in the aforementioned blog is that at times like this is when a working FLR could really be helpful. She needs to know that I am there to serve all the time, especially when she needs it most. All she needs to do is ask or tell me the details. She knows that I am not thrilled to be with her relatives for all the hours that she decides to spend with them, but that does not mean that she can’t say, “I need you with me for such and such occasion, and after that you can leave.” I have done that in the past, and can do it again. The problem is that she then begins to watch me, and notices that I am not exactly thrilled. I am not the most gracious guest who entertains and charms the pants off all the other guests. She takes this as antagonistic behavior on my part, so she does not want me to be there. She ends up “throwing herself onto the grenades,” and I am not there to pick up her pieces.
August 2, 2008
The grand conjunction of her visit is about to take place. Two of our adult children fly in to join her and her relatives. I am invited but am not pressed to attend, so I decline. She does another visit in the morning, and comes back to the hotel to relax until the reunion. Late in the afternoon our children arrive to pick her up. They head to the event.
I settle back to a relaxed evening. I have dinner out of our larder in the kitchenette. For the next two hours I read a mystery novel. About every fifteen minutes I flip through the hundred or so channels on television only to be dismayed by the trash that is offered. My novel has far more attraction, so I stay with it.
The phone rings around nine in the evening. MW wants to know whether I would like to join the three of them for dinner. My first thought is to decline the invitation, and remain naked in bed enjoying my book. Then I realize that this is her way of asking me to be with her, with the children.
Fortunately for all of us I had not been drinking my usual amount of wine, so I graciously accept her invitation. I put on my clothes and zip down the freeway to the restaurant where we are to meet. Since I am not hungry, I take my dinner in the form of an excellent Margarita. I take some pictures of the three of them as they are conversing. We are having a pleasant time. After dinner I drive the two of us back to the hotel. MW appears relaxed. I made the right choice in joining them for dinner.
August 4, 2008
I don’t remember what we did the yesterday. She decides that we would start our trip home one day ahead of schedule. After breakfast I load the Beast. We stop at her folks again to say goodbye. We leave before noon with far less stress and some pleasant expectation of the trip home. We do our favorite sight seeing at national parks and old towns that we remember from prior trips. We go out of our way to find roads that we have not traveled recently. We choose to travel those two lane roads that still allow us to see what the country was before the interstate highways were put in with the subsequent chain motels, hotels, restaurants, and rest stops.
We take many pictures. MW chooses not to give away our location, so I include only one here. You can interpret it to a certain extent and form a conclusion. The small towns through which we pass allow a glimpse into the past. I find it charming and sad. Houses built in the past century, homes with small cornfields and vegetable patches in the front yard, decaying buildings and rusting farm equipment speak of a different life style of the past.
Old crumbling buildings, barns with sagging lumber, and old businesses locked and boarded up for ever. Some ambitious families thrived in these places until the children left to the cities, and the homestead lacked the support it needed. Soon now, bulldozers will be used to make still another shopping mall, and modern housing developments will sell their houses to people from out of state who come for the “relaxed old style country living”. Yeah, right!
We drive into the early evening. Because we started home one day early, we had to cancel our reservation. Being in a small town with accommodations ranging from “undesirable” to “forget it” leaves us two options: drive home or go back a few miles and try in a larger town. Driving home would be another 6-7 hour affair, so we decide to backtrack. In this larger place we have more options. We choose a motel where we stayed many years before. It is relatively clean, but it is a dump in other respects. However, we like each other’s company, and there is a Mexican restaurant next door. We walk across the lot to have dinner.
August 5, 2008
The last day of our trip home begins with my driving to the local coffee shop for coffee. It is not Starbucks, but it is better than the swill I would get at a Denny’s or such. I return with two cups. After coffee I have breakfast, then load the Beast again for the last time while MW is dealing with her email. We head for home.
In spite of all the coffee that I consume on this trip, I keep falling asleep at the wheel, so I need to stop often to pump some adrenaline into my veins. I also stop to buy more of the thick black stuff to keep me juiced. Somehow we make it into a city where we often stop to have lunch. The place is a college town that caters to tourists passing through year around. The waiter staff consists of college students in most eateries. We seldom get adventurous, but the place that we frequent is different. It serves flavorful simple meals and has a microbrewery on site that displays the equipment. The atmosphere is college-like, although the clientele is definitely not. Then there are the waitresses about whom I should not talk. In some people’s opinion they are way too young for me.
I park the beast in a slot about half the size needed. We squeeze ourselves out the doors. A glance around to assess potential damages does not reassure me. I notice that the tattoo and piercing parlor next to the restaurant is still in business. I toy with the idea of visiting it. But, knowing that MW is already hungry after skipping breakfast, I control my urges. We enter the restaurant. It is a shame that the time of the day is lunchtime. Because the place is packed, we don’t get our usual booth, so MW is more than slightly annoyed. I am OK with the table, but realize that a storm is brewing. A nearby booth is vacated, so I ask the waitress to move us to it. As the lunch crowd thins the noise in the place abates, I am beginning to hear and understand her words. After a bit of recrimination directed at me she is all right.
After lunch we drive through some of America’s most beautiful country to get to our next stopping point. As usual I am well fortified with coffee, and manage to keep us on the road most of the time. We stop to pick up MW’s favorite dessert, and then continue to head down to the final destination, home. A couple of hours later we again face the grand entrance to our homestead, being greeted with a view of Titanic proportions, framed in the gateway to a well known legendary location in the USA (MW wants to keep this private for now).
I have some work to do to unload the Beast, take care of the animals, and make MW comfortable. I am tired, but it feels good to be home.
August 8, 2008
It is two days after the trip. We are well settled once again. I am awakened by one of our cats who likes to get attention at around 2AM. I put him out upon his request, and make espresso to start my day. A few hours on the computer to catch up on writing, accounting, and some surfing has me relaxed. Around six I again look at the beautiful butt that MW presents as she sleeps on her side. I just have to do something about it. I slide behind her, and feel her softness along her back, cupping her butt, then down her thighs feeling her perfect legs. She is ready for coffee. I am ready for sex. We compromise. Sex first, followed by coffee.
I prepare my perfectly thick but deadly brew, and we enjoy the cool quietness of the landscape on the upper deck. We make plans to return to FLR real soon. It is the start of another perfect day.
We drive into the early evening. Because we started home one day early, we had to cancel our reservation. Being in a small town with accommodations ranging from “undesirable” to “forget it” leaves us two options: drive home or go back a few miles and try in a larger town. Driving home would be another 6-7 hour affair, so we decide to backtrack. In this larger place we have more options. We choose a motel where we stayed many years before. It is relatively clean, but it is a dump in other respects. However, we like each other’s company, and there is a Mexican restaurant next door. We walk across the lot to have dinner.
August 5, 2008
The last day of our trip home begins with my driving to the local coffee shop for coffee. It is not Starbucks, but it is better than the swill I would get at a Denny’s or such. I return with two cups. After coffee I have breakfast, then load the Beast again for the last time while MW is dealing with her email. We head for home.
In spite of all the coffee that I consume on this trip, I keep falling asleep at the wheel, so I need to stop often to pump some adrenaline into my veins. I also stop to buy more of the thick black stuff to keep me juiced. Somehow we make it into a city where we often stop to have lunch. The place is a college town that caters to tourists passing through year around. The waiter staff consists of college students in most eateries. We seldom get adventurous, but the place that we frequent is different. It serves flavorful simple meals and has a microbrewery on site that displays the equipment. The atmosphere is college-like, although the clientele is definitely not. Then there are the waitresses about whom I should not talk. In some people’s opinion they are way too young for me.
I park the beast in a slot about half the size needed. We squeeze ourselves out the doors. A glance around to assess potential damages does not reassure me. I notice that the tattoo and piercing parlor next to the restaurant is still in business. I toy with the idea of visiting it. But, knowing that MW is already hungry after skipping breakfast, I control my urges. We enter the restaurant. It is a shame that the time of the day is lunchtime. Because the place is packed, we don’t get our usual booth, so MW is more than slightly annoyed. I am OK with the table, but realize that a storm is brewing. A nearby booth is vacated, so I ask the waitress to move us to it. As the lunch crowd thins the noise in the place abates, I am beginning to hear and understand her words. After a bit of recrimination directed at me she is all right.
After lunch we drive through some of America’s most beautiful country to get to our next stopping point. As usual I am well fortified with coffee, and manage to keep us on the road most of the time. We stop to pick up MW’s favorite dessert, and then continue to head down to the final destination, home. A couple of hours later we again face the grand entrance to our homestead, being greeted with a view of Titanic proportions, framed in the gateway to a well known legendary location in the USA (MW wants to keep this private for now).
I have some work to do to unload the Beast, take care of the animals, and make MW comfortable. I am tired, but it feels good to be home.
August 8, 2008
It is two days after the trip. We are well settled once again. I am awakened by one of our cats who likes to get attention at around 2AM. I put him out upon his request, and make espresso to start my day. A few hours on the computer to catch up on writing, accounting, and some surfing has me relaxed. Around six I again look at the beautiful butt that MW presents as she sleeps on her side. I just have to do something about it. I slide behind her, and feel her softness along her back, cupping her butt, then down her thighs feeling her perfect legs. She is ready for coffee. I am ready for sex. We compromise. Sex first, followed by coffee.
I prepare my perfectly thick but deadly brew, and we enjoy the cool quietness of the landscape on the upper deck. We make plans to return to FLR real soon. It is the start of another perfect day.
Monday, July 28, 2008
Sunday, July 27, 2008
Arrival of the CB3000
The box arrived on June 9, about 45 days after the order was placed. It was marked, “Plastic artifact: sample,” apparently to satisfy customs. The sender’s address was in India. The box was packed like something a ten-year-old would do. I opened it.
I sorted the parts. The miniscule padlock was made in China. This did not bode well. I threw the wrapping into the trash. I washed the parts with soap and hot water. In the kitchen I filled a saucepan with water, and dropped all pieces into it, then turned on the heat under the pan. After boiling them for about ten minutes I removed them, and washed them in rubbing alcohol. I laid them out on a clean cloth.
The center post that holds the ring and the cage together has the hole through which the lock goes. In the process of punching this hole the tip of the post became distorted. Consequently, none of the four center (locking) posts would go through the appropriate hole in the cage part. This required garage adjustment number one, then back to the bedroom.
While trying to assemble it, I tried to slip a spacer onto the center post without success. The spacers’ hole was too small. Here came garage adjustment number two. I searched in my drill bit set for a bit that was just slightly larger than the hole. I had hell of a time holding the small plastic thing between one forefinger and thumb against the drill. The bit grabbed it out of my hand repeatedly. Finally I came up with a way to do it without destroying it or my fingers. I drilled all six pieces. Alas, the hole was still not big enough. I managed to find a slightly larger bit, and repeated the process. This time I had a good fit.
I cleaned up the parts, and laid them out on the bed.
She asked me whether I had tried to install the device. I said no. She said to go ahead with installing it. I tested the fit by starting with the next to smallest of the five rings. Skipped two, and tried the next to the largest. Still too small. I finally settled on the largest hinged ring. I suppose one or both of my balls would squeeze through under some circumstances, but the smaller one was just too snug for longer than potentially several hours that I was anticipating. The five spacers and the three center posts offered a number of fitness between the two rings to make it difficult or impossible to remove, and definitely impossible to replace without unlocking the padlock through the center post hole. I chose a distance of about 5/8 inch, provided by the two largest spacers. All was well so far.
She had me put the set together and install it in the evening after we had showered. Wisely she allowed me to use a small latch instead of the padlock for this initial period. It is now early morning. I have had several erections during the night, but none of the ball-pinching problems that the CB2000 caused in the past. Aside from the bulk and occasional need to adjust my balls, the CB3000 device is rather comfortable. In cold weather my balls tend to migrate upward in a futile attempt to return into my body, and my cock shrinks to a ridiculously small size. With the CB2000 I had to decrease the space between the ring and the cage to about 3/8 inch, which in turn put a very painful strain on my balls and sack in cold weather. Since the weather has been warm lately, I don’t know how this CB3000 will fare under the circumstances. For now it is doing well.
With the CB2000, due to its construction, urinating was a relatively messy affair best performed while sitting. About the only time I stood was when in a public restroom. At home I sit anyway, but with that cage on it was a necessity to avoid pissing on everything around me. I have not tried standing with the CB3000, but the stream as I sit appears straight, only partly drippy because of the PA ring, which has nothing to do with the cage. In addition, with the 2000 I had to drop the entire set of balls, cock and cage into the bathroom sink and splash water all over it after urination. With the 3000 there is no need to be so vigorous, since the urine does not splash all over the cage.
I miss the open design of the 2000, since my skin does not get to breathe as much, so long term wear may not be as benign with the 3000.
Later this morning we were having coffee and discussing what I might be doing later in line of work. I had some hard labor in mind, she had other ideas. I will be cleaning the kitchen, hall, and the powder room. They are all rather large, so it’s not a matter of a few minutes work. After breakfast I attended to our animals feeding, and then began the work. She wanted to make sure that I remember her, so she attached and locked a padlock to the PA ring. At first it was sexy and erotic. After a while it was painful, as in tearing the flesh.
It took about an hour to move stuff such as furniture, and things left on the floor, into the living room, so that I could begin on the aforementioned floors. I cleaned the powder room toilet first. Then vacuumed all the floors of ceramic tile. This was followed by mopping the same, and concluded with scrubbing the pedestal sink in the powder room. There were some carpeted areas to vacuum clean, and then move all the furniture and stuff back where they were.
She had other chores for me that required going outside the house. For those I had to put on my jogging shorts, and then take the same off upon returning inside.
Later she attached a piece of acrylic ornament to the weight on my PA ring. It looks something that would hang from a chandelier. The combined weight increased the tearing pain. I went with that until late afternoon when she removed the acrylic weight, but left the heavy padlock on.
I sorted the parts. The miniscule padlock was made in China. This did not bode well. I threw the wrapping into the trash. I washed the parts with soap and hot water. In the kitchen I filled a saucepan with water, and dropped all pieces into it, then turned on the heat under the pan. After boiling them for about ten minutes I removed them, and washed them in rubbing alcohol. I laid them out on a clean cloth.
The center post that holds the ring and the cage together has the hole through which the lock goes. In the process of punching this hole the tip of the post became distorted. Consequently, none of the four center (locking) posts would go through the appropriate hole in the cage part. This required garage adjustment number one, then back to the bedroom.
While trying to assemble it, I tried to slip a spacer onto the center post without success. The spacers’ hole was too small. Here came garage adjustment number two. I searched in my drill bit set for a bit that was just slightly larger than the hole. I had hell of a time holding the small plastic thing between one forefinger and thumb against the drill. The bit grabbed it out of my hand repeatedly. Finally I came up with a way to do it without destroying it or my fingers. I drilled all six pieces. Alas, the hole was still not big enough. I managed to find a slightly larger bit, and repeated the process. This time I had a good fit.
I cleaned up the parts, and laid them out on the bed.
She asked me whether I had tried to install the device. I said no. She said to go ahead with installing it. I tested the fit by starting with the next to smallest of the five rings. Skipped two, and tried the next to the largest. Still too small. I finally settled on the largest hinged ring. I suppose one or both of my balls would squeeze through under some circumstances, but the smaller one was just too snug for longer than potentially several hours that I was anticipating. The five spacers and the three center posts offered a number of fitness between the two rings to make it difficult or impossible to remove, and definitely impossible to replace without unlocking the padlock through the center post hole. I chose a distance of about 5/8 inch, provided by the two largest spacers. All was well so far.
She had me put the set together and install it in the evening after we had showered. Wisely she allowed me to use a small latch instead of the padlock for this initial period. It is now early morning. I have had several erections during the night, but none of the ball-pinching problems that the CB2000 caused in the past. Aside from the bulk and occasional need to adjust my balls, the CB3000 device is rather comfortable. In cold weather my balls tend to migrate upward in a futile attempt to return into my body, and my cock shrinks to a ridiculously small size. With the CB2000 I had to decrease the space between the ring and the cage to about 3/8 inch, which in turn put a very painful strain on my balls and sack in cold weather. Since the weather has been warm lately, I don’t know how this CB3000 will fare under the circumstances. For now it is doing well.
With the CB2000, due to its construction, urinating was a relatively messy affair best performed while sitting. About the only time I stood was when in a public restroom. At home I sit anyway, but with that cage on it was a necessity to avoid pissing on everything around me. I have not tried standing with the CB3000, but the stream as I sit appears straight, only partly drippy because of the PA ring, which has nothing to do with the cage. In addition, with the 2000 I had to drop the entire set of balls, cock and cage into the bathroom sink and splash water all over it after urination. With the 3000 there is no need to be so vigorous, since the urine does not splash all over the cage.
I miss the open design of the 2000, since my skin does not get to breathe as much, so long term wear may not be as benign with the 3000.
Later this morning we were having coffee and discussing what I might be doing later in line of work. I had some hard labor in mind, she had other ideas. I will be cleaning the kitchen, hall, and the powder room. They are all rather large, so it’s not a matter of a few minutes work. After breakfast I attended to our animals feeding, and then began the work. She wanted to make sure that I remember her, so she attached and locked a padlock to the PA ring. At first it was sexy and erotic. After a while it was painful, as in tearing the flesh.
It took about an hour to move stuff such as furniture, and things left on the floor, into the living room, so that I could begin on the aforementioned floors. I cleaned the powder room toilet first. Then vacuumed all the floors of ceramic tile. This was followed by mopping the same, and concluded with scrubbing the pedestal sink in the powder room. There were some carpeted areas to vacuum clean, and then move all the furniture and stuff back where they were.
She had other chores for me that required going outside the house. For those I had to put on my jogging shorts, and then take the same off upon returning inside.
Later she attached a piece of acrylic ornament to the weight on my PA ring. It looks something that would hang from a chandelier. The combined weight increased the tearing pain. I went with that until late afternoon when she removed the acrylic weight, but left the heavy padlock on.
Saturday, February 16, 2008
Another Bump in the Road
Early in the Day
We sat at our computers on a rainy afternoon, and it occurred to me to play a CD that has her favorite style of music. Being somewhat careless I failed to control the volume as the music started. The sudden onset of noise startled her. Her reaction prompted a response from me, which in turn a response from her. The rest was worse.
In the Evening
Later in the evening she tried to make amends. I did not respond well. The consequence was that she left me in our bedroom, while she went to spend the night, and the rest of her life away from me.
Even in my best moments I find it difficult to deal with emotional attitude of others. I was not in my best moments last night. I did not deal with anything. After spending some time reading I turned off the lights. I had plans of doing and not doing certain routine things in the morning because of the change of situation at hand. I fell asleep with those troubled thoughts.
Restitution In the Early Morning Hours
Some hours later I was awakened with the world’s most beautiful breasts draped across my face. I reached out with my free hand and found equally beautiful parts attached to the breasts. Considering my position I had to assume that all of those parts belonged to MW. She stayed for several minutes while I sported an erection and fondled all of her that I could reach. At some point I suggested,
“Come back to bed.”
She silently stepped back, then went to the bathroom. Afterward she left the bedroom. I assumed that she was going to retrieve her pillows and join me. Several minutes later I realized that she was not coming back. I got my naked ass out of bed and went to find her. She was lying on the living room sofa with some cats for company. We straightened the misunderstanding: I wanted her to come back to bed, and she needed firm reassurance that I meant it.
Back in bed we felt each other like new lovers for maybe a half hour. She could not fail to notice the little guy muscling in between us, so at some point she made the overtures for me to help out. I gently pushed her onto her back, and she generously spread her thighs for us.
We spent a long time feeling each other before she took the little guy in hand and escorted him to the center of my being. Not being in a hurry I took my time to enjoy her to the hilt. She mentioned buying a CB3000 “because it looked sexy”. She knew that I consider the idea erotic. While pinching my ON/OFF buttons she talked of my acquiring “more protein in my diet” after the inevitable, obliquely referring to my cleaning up after myself. That usually gets me going like nothing else. Eventually the little guy took control, regardless of the implications, while I abandoned mine to a glorious orgasm.
Resting on one elbow or another I remained on top breathing her scents and feeling her softness. It took a while for us to settle down to some more fondling, kissing, licking, and feeling, then parting. She did not follow through on the hinted “protein snack”. At the time I was happy with it. In retrospect I wish that she had tested me. But I can’t complain. It's something to which I can look forward.
We sat at our computers on a rainy afternoon, and it occurred to me to play a CD that has her favorite style of music. Being somewhat careless I failed to control the volume as the music started. The sudden onset of noise startled her. Her reaction prompted a response from me, which in turn a response from her. The rest was worse.
In the Evening
Later in the evening she tried to make amends. I did not respond well. The consequence was that she left me in our bedroom, while she went to spend the night, and the rest of her life away from me.
Even in my best moments I find it difficult to deal with emotional attitude of others. I was not in my best moments last night. I did not deal with anything. After spending some time reading I turned off the lights. I had plans of doing and not doing certain routine things in the morning because of the change of situation at hand. I fell asleep with those troubled thoughts.
Restitution In the Early Morning Hours
Some hours later I was awakened with the world’s most beautiful breasts draped across my face. I reached out with my free hand and found equally beautiful parts attached to the breasts. Considering my position I had to assume that all of those parts belonged to MW. She stayed for several minutes while I sported an erection and fondled all of her that I could reach. At some point I suggested,
“Come back to bed.”
She silently stepped back, then went to the bathroom. Afterward she left the bedroom. I assumed that she was going to retrieve her pillows and join me. Several minutes later I realized that she was not coming back. I got my naked ass out of bed and went to find her. She was lying on the living room sofa with some cats for company. We straightened the misunderstanding: I wanted her to come back to bed, and she needed firm reassurance that I meant it.
Back in bed we felt each other like new lovers for maybe a half hour. She could not fail to notice the little guy muscling in between us, so at some point she made the overtures for me to help out. I gently pushed her onto her back, and she generously spread her thighs for us.
We spent a long time feeling each other before she took the little guy in hand and escorted him to the center of my being. Not being in a hurry I took my time to enjoy her to the hilt. She mentioned buying a CB3000 “because it looked sexy”. She knew that I consider the idea erotic. While pinching my ON/OFF buttons she talked of my acquiring “more protein in my diet” after the inevitable, obliquely referring to my cleaning up after myself. That usually gets me going like nothing else. Eventually the little guy took control, regardless of the implications, while I abandoned mine to a glorious orgasm.
Resting on one elbow or another I remained on top breathing her scents and feeling her softness. It took a while for us to settle down to some more fondling, kissing, licking, and feeling, then parting. She did not follow through on the hinted “protein snack”. At the time I was happy with it. In retrospect I wish that she had tested me. But I can’t complain. It's something to which I can look forward.
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