I’m on a trip away from Jalan most of this week. I’m no longer used to sleeping alone, and I do not like it one little bit. I’ve been sleeping terribly. I’m also working on a major deadline long distance, which is ok, but it adds to the stress and anxiety levels from the insomnia (and, of course, feeds the insomnia).

Not entirely unrelated, I have a bit of a thing for masturbating when alone in hotel rooms. Not an option at the moment. Well, that’s not strictly true. It’s actually a requirement at the moment — Jalan opted not to reduce the masturbation quota when she instituted the denial period. In other words, I am required to edge myself exactly three times this week. This is not but so much help for the case of the lonely-and-hornys …

So too tired to work on anything but the major deadline. Not able to use my usual retreat. And having to somehow accomplish the purposes of the trip along with the deadline. Grump.

#denial

Thank you so much for the incredible compliment. I so appreciate your sentiment, you are awesome. I just want to say that I enjoy your blog as well, since I have no real life experience it is awesome to read about your experiences. Your Mistress sounds like a very fun Lady. I am now getting ready to read your post about chastity now, I am more of a fan of short term tease & denial but am also fascinated by chastity and have went as long as 40 days without a full orgasm.

Thank you! I do appreciate your feedback, and I’ll be sure to tell her.

What I’d been hoping and dreading (in the “be careful what you wish for” sense) happened yesterday. Jalan had me strung up in a partial suspension, blindfolded and gagged. She talked about loving seeing me off-balance, which she means in more ways than one. That she feels her dominance when she pushes me — again, in more ways than one.

That it’s harder to get me than some men to the point where we both know, viscerally, that I have yielded. Not because of a high pain threshold. I’m no masochist. But because some of the tools she’s worked with in the past operate by setting up the planning and anticipating in the submissive partner. But I am already doing that all the time. For her to feel me yield, no matter what I say and do for her, requires a different kind of push.

She took off the blindfold, but left the ring gag in.  She explained these things to me. Then:

 I have decided that you will not come again until I can feel your need for it. Not just your want for it. And I don’t know when that will be.

I’d seen some of this coming. I’d been bound for awhile (comfortably and safely, not the suspension, nor gagged) while she showered. I could hear enough to be pretty sure that whatever else happened during this scene, I would not be the one getting off. And the issue of denial had been circling our conversations and aims for a few weeks. I do my best not to be demanding, but we still have channels by which I am permitted to communicate such desires. And she can read me like a book to begin with.

But the ride has begun.

Thank you, Ma’am. I do love you.

#chastity #denial

Male chastity has been a fascination of mine ever since I learned devices for men existed, maybe a decade ago. Female chastity has been a fascination even longer. Even aside from devices, masturbation and/or orgasm control has been a major kink since I discovered I enjoyed D/s, also maybe a decade ago.

It was not a big thing for Jalan before we got together, but she’s come to appreciate its effect on me! After many years, many attempts, and way too much money, I got an effective belt last Fall. As mentioned previously, it’s a custom-fit metal cage welded onto a locking belt. It’s completely unremovable by me and completely effective at preventing masturbation. Unfortunately, I live in a warm region and sweat a lot, so 3 days is about the limit of wear at one go, despite my best cleaning efforts. We’ve also experimented with periods of denial (up to two weeks at the last go-round) without the belt.

These are the core of the rules:

• My rules for masturbation are set every Sunday. They default to the previous week’s.
• I keep a journal of when I masturbate, as well as when I want to but don’t due to the rules or due to the device, which I submit Sunday morning.
• The current rules are to masturbate exactly three times per week. This sets up the dual dilemma of restriction and requirement, meaning the need for some strategizing. The number of what I call “Masturbation Units” (MUs) has sometimes been one. Other weeks it’s been by specific permission only.
• There are accommodations for when the belt prevents reaching my quota.
• When I am belted, she will remove the belt at least every three days for cleaning (both of it and of me). It might go right back on, in which case, masturbation during the cleaning is prohibited.

We have not yet spent a lot of time with me in the belt, in part because we’re still fine-tuning the physical side of it to prevent sores from rubbing and so forth. But it’s always there, and I never know when it’s going to be brought out. Most of the occasions on which it’s been on, it has been the full three days.

One thing that’s easily seen in this is that we’re not a long-time-denial couple. In part, this is because she enjoys sex with me, including the kinds that are not possible with the belt. In turn, I’m fascinated with the idea of my wearing a strap-on, including the strap-on gags that are popular these days. But for me, denial works best when there is hope. For example, we both love hand-jobs. But I also love not knowing whether she’s just going to edge me (at which she is expert) or let me come. And I do a great job of the mindfuck on myself with this.

At this time, I am preparing for a week-long trip away. Last night, during one of these slow hand-jobs, we observed that: (a) it was Saturday night, so the rules could change soon; and (b) I was going to be away, so any change wouldn’t result in her being denied (into which she very definitely is not). She then capped it by letting me know that I was not to take advantage of the loophole, by which I could masturbate sometime after midnight Saturday night before new, more restrictive, rules might come down. Then she stopped and said “good night.”

I love my life, and I love my wife.

A bit of stream-of-consciousness here. It’s a blog read by a handful of people on a good day, to which I post twice in a good week. What is it for but self-indulgence?

Some of the things I want to write about:

* Topping Jalan (I did recently, at her instruction).

* My masturbation and chastity protocols and rules, feelings, and devices.

* Particularly fun scenes Jalan and I have, or simple pleasures.

*  The way in which — when things are going well — most of our life together is our sex life.

Tonight I am taking the time to write about taking the time.

Since I personally entered the laptop era, some number of years ago, I’ve developed some good habits, some bad habits, and some habits of debatable merit. I mean that literally: their merit is debatable, not clearly present or absent.

I have a small flaw in my character. I multitask to ridiculous levels. When I have the laptop out, in any given fifteen-minute stretch, I’ve usually done some work, checked e-mail, done something finance-related, read news and blogs, and surfed porn. Other times, I really get carried away.

This has pros and cons, but one of the cons is that it’s hard for Jalan (or me, for that matter) to tell whether an interruption for “couple time” would be welcome, accepted, or resented. Usually it’s at least accepted. But sometimes I really am working hard on something that requires focus, or sometimes I’m focused obsessively on something else that isn’t work.

Don’t get me wrong: Jalan is in charge. If she directs me to close the computer and come for The Snuggle, or The Footrub, or whatever may be, I will, and will do my best to do so with good grace. But I mostly work from home, and she respects my needs to do my job. So the lack of cues from me — even when she can see me flipping through windows — makes it hard for her to know when I’m ok with, or even happy about, an interruption.

We’ve been in a bit of rut (and not the fun kind) for a couple of weeks, in part related to my having a major work deadline, and in part due to other things, some of which are hers to share if she chooses and not mine. Last night we had a long talk about it.

One of our past rituals has been my bringing her breakfast in the morning. I wrote about this recently in one of the “life as a pet” posts. But in recent weeks, her schedule has been such that she can sleep in — and often does so for some hours after I am awake. This is not itself a problem, but it means there is no explicit cue for when breakfast and tea should be ready. On her side, there is no explicit cue as to whether I, having been up for awhile, am in my workday mode.

So, being the type of couple we are, we have been brainstorming about how to get back that ritual. The breakfast itself is not the important part (even if it is the most important meal of the day), but the service and the connection time are. So one of the tactics we are trying out is for me to watch or ask outright for when she is awake enough to want breakfast, get to a stopping point, and bring it to her and sit with her while she eats. Togetherness and connection are the keys. Our goal (and, until recently, practice) is to start the day and the day with talking and touch. And frequently sex .

Jalan has not adjusted the rules for the morning routine. It is her way to try different things and see how they work before putting them into the rules (we have a website), and they are still malleable (by her, sometimes at my suggestion). But we are in the testing stage.

Bringing this long post to a close: Breakfast is an example. The point is that we problem-solve. As partners. Our partnership is asymmetric, but no less for that it is a product of us working together and sharing common goals and values. It is how we are building a life together.

I am breaking a rule right now. I have an electronics “blackout” during the night (11:30pm to 5:30am — I’m an early riser) to help with good quality sleep, which has often been a problem for me. When Jalan wakes, I’ll explain and ask forgiveness. But I’m making a judgment call, meanwhile.

Jalan is asleep, and has not been sleeping well. So I am not waking her to explain. But I’ve got the “midnight collywobbles,” as a dear friend calls them. Otherwise known as a mild anxiety attack. Nothing seems quite right, recent decisions seem ill-advised, etc. This is a familiar feeling, though it hasn’t happened in some time. I don’t want to take anything pharmaceutical, partly because it’s so late, and partly because  I already took a sleep aid. I decided to get online as a way of not dwelling on the details (even though I am writing on the general issue). Perhaps this will help.

I wrote about mornings a couple of weeks ago. Yesterday, I saw a Twitter conversation about sleeping in bondage, which spurred me to continue the series with bedtime.

Jalan and I have a bedtime ritual (of course). I almost invariable am sleepy well before she is. I’m a terrible, terrible, morning person. I might start getting drowsy at 7pm, or it might be 10:30pm — most often 9ish. As I say something to the effect of, “I’m starting to fade, Ma’am,” we begin the ritual.

Most often, it begins with “How was your day?” Currently, both of us are home most of most days — “living in each other’s pockets,” as I am wont to say. But this is still important. It’s not just, “What did you today?” which we generally already know, but rather, “Was it a good day?” We talk about this. It’s  connecting time.

We then usually talk about what the next day will bring. We may already know the just-the-facts, but also what we’re looking forward to (or not). More connecting time. We may or may not make plans at this point for something additional. Finally, I ask what time to awaken her in the morning. Most often the answer is 7am. And, of course, there are the “I love you”s and “sleep well”s. There is a certain formula she uses at night to tell me she loves me, but that’s private.

Sometime in this, she recognizes I’m falling asleep, so offers to tuck me in. This invariably involves at least leather cuffs locked on. The baseline is the ankle cuffs padlocked together and the wrist cuffs padlocked together, but there are variations. More often than not, there’s a chain to the bed from at least the ankles, sometimes also from the wrists. The amount of slack I have depends on her mood and what she perceives will suit me that night.

Then there are nights (mostly when I have little to do the next day) that it’s much more rigorous. Sometimes she gets out the leather play collar and locks it on, chaining my wrists to it — damage to my primary collar is not to be risked.  Sometimes, my wrists are anchored to my ankles. Sometimes a combination, leaving me little maneuvering room. Sometimes, it’s a whole web of chain, though she is careful to not leave my lying on locks. It’s not always chain, but far more often than not. On occasion, there’s a blindfold or hood (such as our spandex hood with the sewn-in blindfold but a mouth and nose cutout, so there’s no breathing concern). On occasion, there are fist mitts locked on, making my hands rather useless. Plenty of variety.

On occasion — fairly seldom, her judgment is usually sufficient — I’ll specifically ask for something particularly restrictive, depending on my emotional needs of the night. I almost never ask for a specific form to the bondage, just a degree of restriction. If I’m particularly stressed or anxious, the bondage is usually more stringent, whichever of us makes the decision.

Obviously, it’s not always easy to sleep. Though as other claustrophiles know, the bonds can actually make it easier. There’s also an interaction with the desire and ability to masturbate, but there are rules aplenty governing that, so it may or may not happen.

I’m under standing instructions to wake her for bathroom needs or any distress, not just physical. As noted in the previous entry, I’m usually wake well before 7. The actual time to wake her to be unchained (barring bathroom urgency) is, more often than not, actually determined by the dog’s need to be walked … Jalan finds it less disturbing to unchain me than to wake enough to walk the dog herself.

That’s my night, almost every night. I love my life.

I wake up early most mornings. I’m not allowed electronics before 5:30am, as part of good sleep hygiene, so most days I doze until sometime between 5:30 and 6:30.

If the chain configuration of the night lets me reach my computer, which is most of the time, I then pick it up and start dawdling online (though typing is often a challenge). I’m striving toward recovery from workaholism, so I’m also not allowed to do work- or finance-related activities until at least 6:30. Thus, the first hour or so is recreational — checking social networking, online games, tumblr erotica, etc. After 6:30, I check bank balances, online work, and so forth.

The night before, Jalan will have given me a wake-up time; most often 7am. That is the time I am to wake her, though I also have instruction to wake her earlier for my bathroom needs or any kind of distress. Given how early I go to bed, the former usually kicks in before 7 and I have to ask to be released. She may or may not rebind me when I return — she is more likely to if it’s the middle of the night.

After I am out of bed, I make her tea and then my coffee. More often than not, she is not ready to be awake at 7, either, so I am on my own for awhile, which involves some combination of breakfast, online “rounds,” and sometimes something streaming with headphones (we have a few of the online services, as cost-effective entertainment options).

Speaking of, time to wake her … more parts of the day later.

To have a sex life that means that you have to watch out for the bubble wrap on the way out of the shower.

But where I can get this gag?

Yes, it’s been a month since my last post.

No, I don’t feel badly about it. This blog is entirely for my own purposes, and I’m learning to use such tools accordingly.

So there, too, you inner voice, you.

Anyway, quite a month. The celibacy period ended after 14 days. It would have been 13, but there were some health issues on my end. I got back home from my trip to Jalan’s arms. We’ve been together nearly 24/7 since then, as she’s been working from home and I do quite a lot of my job from home, as well. The health issues are in the process of being resolved, after some unpleasant diagnostics, seeing a new GP my wife highly recommended, and doing some tinkering with meds.

Oh, yes. There was also the getting married part. Yep, we eloped. Good stuff, and the details are ours, unless you know me personally — in which case, feel free to ask. There’s an odd paradox to getting married, especially eloping, when we’ve been living in each other’s pockets. It means so much to us, but affects so little in our day-to-day interactions. We’re still exploring. And having great fun doing so.

Work is going great guns; I’m as happy and mentally healthy as I can ever remember; physical health is being worked on; family issues are falling out as they need to. Oh, yes, and we’re married.

Did I mention that we’re married?

This is from some of Jalan’s first experiments with duct tape.

rohosub:

Very few men have the necessary size and the stamina to satisfy their women.
More and more women understand how to solve the problem. Whether it’s male chastity or simply using numbing creams to make him last longer…

Oh, yes. I do love the webbing/pinning effects in bondage.