Why Do I Crave the Cage?

If you have been keeping up with the blog, you know that the current thirty-nine day run of denial and orgasm control has been based on the honor system.  We have not used a chastity/cock cage, because my old CB2000 just isn’t secure and my old Crossfire just doesn’t fit right.

Is that a problem?  For the purposes of me not playing with myself or touching my (NW’s) cock, no.  My word is gold.  And, yes, I understand that it wouldn’t be a workable solution for some.  Given our relationship, though, it is more than sufficient.  So, if that is the case, why even spend the money on a new chastity cage?  I mean, if the honor system ends with the same result…NW’s ability to control my sexual pleasure…does it even make a difference?

The answer to that is an emphatic yes.  You see, in the honor system, the control is indirect.  NW tells me not to touch or pleasure her property.  I then have to process that directive and choose to comply.  I do, of course, because I have given my word.  But that makes me a middleman in this.  And nothing happens without the middleman…hence the indirect control.

Having a chastity cage in place, however, removes the middleman from the equation and makes it direct control.  NW locks up her property because she doesn’t want anyone, including me, touching or pleasuring it.  She locks it up and it immediately becomes inaccessible…direct control.

While that is a physical difference, since the cage actually limits the ability to physically interact with my cock, it is the mental aspect that carries the most impact.  The cage means that I can’t stimulate myself.  I can’t give myself an orgasm.  I can’t even become erect.  It removes the possibility, without direct intervention, meaning a desire for it to happen, by NW.  The control actually becomes hers.

Here is where I would say, or you will read others say, “And I have zero control over it.”  Well, that isn’t true, of course.  If I were to get to a point where I demanded to be out of the cage, she would release me.  There is nothing about sex and/or chastity that is important enough to cause issues in our relationship.  And if I have hit that point (not simply wanting to have an orgasm or be free of the cage), where I have thrown off any hint of sex or play and my only thought is being free from it, then it needs to be removed.

So, it would seem, that I am still the middleman in this.  Except that, until I have hit that point (if I ever do), I am still under NW’s physical control, via the cage.  Also, there are ways to remove the immediacy of events that a free range cock enjoys.  That might include functional or situational things like… I am at work.  I have no key.  NW is at home.  I have zero choice but to stay locked…or find someone to cut it off.  Or maybe we are out running our errands and she decides to leave all of the keys at home.  We go on a vacation and she doesn’t bring the key.  Or, maybe, the key doesn’t even stay at the house or on her person.  Maybe a third party holds the key (knowing or not knowing what it is for) or it is kept in a safe, offsite location, where quick or immediate access isn’t even a possibility.

My only warning on any of these is that a situation might arise where you would want/need to remove the cage.  Not having an emergency key handy could be an issue.  Unless, of course, you have no concerns about potentially anyone and everyone knowing that you are caged…think trip to the hospital.  And if that is your situation, by all means, lock the keys far away, if you like.

There are other ways to mitigate the immediacy, such as, NW and I have agreed that, if I hit that point of “let me out or the world will end”, there will be a twenty-four hour waiting period.  Unless there is an emergency that would require otherwise (medical emergency, having to get on a plane or such…), just about anyone can survive those twenty-four hours.  It gives a set release time, is assured, but still allows a cool down period to make sure the “need” is real…or that you simply don’t change your mind.

In the event that one of us were to just burn out on the chastity aspect of this, we have instituted a seventy-two hour waiting period.  So, if I decide, tomorrow morning, that I just don’t want to do this anymore, I have to wait seventy-two hours before it officially ends.  During that time, things will go on as they have.  My sex would still be completely under her control.  She can continue to do whatever she likes.  She can use that time, and whatever methods she wants to employ, to try to convince me otherwise, assuming she wants to continue it.  And it gives me the chance to really think it over and decide if I really want to stop, if I am just having a rough couple of days, if there is some other root cause that really doesn’t warrant ending it and whether or not I am going to regret having ended it.

None of that is legitimately enforceable without the cage, though.  The cage prevents me from doing what I shouldn’t and forces me to honor that to which we have agreed…even when I think I no longer want it.

Beyond all of this, though, there are other perks to being actually caged.  NW is aroused by the idea of my cock being, actually, locked and under her control.  I, too, am aroused by that.  Going about my day to day business, at work, shopping, whatever, with my cock locked away in a cage the whole time, is very much a turn on to me.  It is to NW, as well.  And it makes both of us wonder who else, in the masses of people around us, are enjoying (or suffering through) some unseen kink.

And lets be honest, when I tell someone else about what is going on, whether me sharing it here, on the blog, or NW or I sharing it with a third party, the chastity play is kinky.  But keeping your spouse, or being kept by your spouse, in a cock cage, over which he has no immediate control, is a lot hotter and more arousing to share.  Not to mention, you can’t see chastity.  But you can definitely see a chastity cage!

Finally, back to the physical aspect of being caged, it is the way it feels.  Initially, it is a constant reminder that my orgasms, my erections, my cock and, hence, my sex are no longer under my control.  As I become used to wearing it, though, I forget it is there.  The snug, warm feel of the metal sheathing my cock becomes normal.  It is comforting.  It lends an odd sense of safety.  And it comes to a point where not being caged feels wrong and unnatural.  I learn to crave the cage.

It makes me feel like a kept man…

 

 

Some Things Never Change

In the description of us, on the “About” page, it notes that I am the more dominant personality in the relationship and NW is the more submissive partner.  As time goes by, my lack of a submissive nature just keeps being re-affirmed.

That is not to say that we are stopping what is currently going on, or that we have any desire to do so.  It is just readily apparent that I am in no way a sub.  NW says that I can’t even play one on TV.  I can surrender certain aspects.  And in our everyday lives, I do just that.  There are just some things that NW is more attuned to or has more knowledge concerning.  And that works.

As we started this, there was a  frenzy of desire and fantasy.  We pushed limits wherever we liked and tested the waters.  Mind you, none of that pushing was into anything too extreme…at least not to us.  But, through it, at best, I felt like I was pampering or going along with NW, not submitting to her, in the classical sense.

For instance, pegging.  I did it because NW wanted to do it to me.  But, despite not really getting anything physically pleasing from it, I have wanted to explore it.  As she told me what to do, to get into position and then did the deed, even without asking…even as I played off of her dominant talk…it still did not feel submissive, even though I was submitting.

Getting caned for being a bad boy?  Same thing.  The act, itself, is submissive.  But it doesn’t inspire a feeling of submission in me.  Being fed my own emissions?  Ditto…  It is happening because it is what she wants.  I have fantasized about it, but it is something that I have always been iffy on, in real life.  I am doing it to submit to her will, but do not feel beholden, owned or in any other way obligated…outside of me having given my word that she is in control of our sex life.  Maybe a good way to put it is that I feel like I am doing this for NW (while absolutely getting something out of it) instead of NW doing it to me.  It is fun to play at being under her thumb, even though that is not how I actually feel.  In a lot of ways it simply feels like roleplay.  I am okay with that.  She seems to be as well.

So, it seems that I can get into the part of the “play” that we are doing, at any given moment, but am incapable of getting into the overall mindset that “submission” would imply.

Why?  I have no fucking clue.  NW says that I am just wired this way and nothing is going to change it.  Maybe it is that simple.  I will say, though, that the one area where I actually do feel subject to her is the chastity…orgasm control and denial.

It still isn’t to the degree that I think actual submission feels like.  But her having that control is important to me…and her.  Beyond that, we are having fun.  And that, after all, is the whole point.  So, not much else matters.

Maybe once the cage gets here it will provide a bit of a tweak.  I don’t really see how it couldn’t.  Don’t expect anything life altering.  It isn’t like we haven’t been there before.  But, you never know.

All of that said, I have noticed one very positive side effect, in all of this.  NW has become more assertive, in general.  Maybe it is that she is becoming more confident?  Maybe it is that this is helping her step outside of her comfort zone?  Whatever is at the root, she is better able to express herself and less submissive in her dealings, with me and others.  That is a very welcome development and one that we will nurture.

NW Checks One Off of Her Fantasy Bucket List

As most of us do, NW has several fantasies.  Hers don’t often get too far out there, though.  This just happens to be one of those that was easy enough to fulfill, but the opportunity had never been seized.  I, as probably the only one, did not have this one high on my list.  But, you know, NW wanted it.  She directed it.  She got it.  I am glad that I could give it to her.

Once again, after work, nothing happened.  Other than the typical gropes, as we passed one another, it was a mundane evening, until we finally retired to the bedroom.

It started off easy enough, with NW lightly stroking my scrotum.  I do love the feel of her fingers lightly running along my flesh.  It was tantalizing, to say the least.

In time, however, it gave way to more intense play, as she took a firm grip of my balls and wandered off into some mild to medium CBT.  More specifically, I guess, it was BT.  For a change, there was no impact.  she took them in her mouth and sucked them.  She bit down on them.  She squeezed them with her off hand.

Eventually, she settled into pressing them.  At first, she pressed them with the palm of her off hand.  When that wasn’t enough, she planted her knee in the bed, right up against my tightly held balls, and leaned forward.  This allowed her to crush my captive balls between her hand, which was braced against my body, and her thigh, which was being forced forward by her body weight, as she leaned into and over me.  It was a high pressure situation, to say the least.

For my part, I spent most of my time focused on the growing pressure, then pain, in my balls.  I humped into her hands as she squeezed my balls between her palms.  Once she had moved to using her thigh, I would raise my hips, to increase the pressure that I was feeling.  At one point, I actually thought that I might be able to reach orgasm, if the pressure continued long enough.  It didn’t.  Oh well…  That would have been a nice first, though…to get there just from the pressure, without any foreplay to  my cock.

Even though her plan had been to ignore my cock, for a second day, she thought better of it.  After becoming content with the press job she had done, she worked her knee up under my balls, where they were resting on it.  Then she took my cock and began stroking me.  Every down stroke, the bottom of her hand would impact my balls.  It was a somewhat sharp, jarring pain.  It is also a technique that will bring me to edge very quickly.

She stopped before I was on edge, however.  Then, she started stroking again.  I went from nowhere near edge to about to go over, in about three ballbusting strokes.  I mean it came out of nowhere.  I managed to avoid the orgasm, but the semen had been released anyway.  Again, as last time, none escaped my body.

She then rolled onto her back, next to me, and told me to expel it onto her.  What choice did I have?  I rolled onto my side, pressed the bottom of my urethra and ran my fingers up it.  The previously hidden load dribbled out onto her waiting pussy.  She told me to eat it off of her.  I did.

As it was rather dark, in the room, I had to pretty much lick and suck all of her sex to find it all.  Once I found the largest deposit, I sucked it into my mouth and went to swallow.  Instead, though, I paused, brought it back to the front of my mouth and played with it for a moment…feeling it, tasting it, basically investigating it.  Honestly, it really didn’t seem to have much taste.  It didn’t register as salty, bitter or sweet…just warm and smooth.  I moved it back down and swallowed it, then finished cleaning her.  This was one of her fantasies.  Simple as it may seem, she wanted me to eat my cum off of her.  Check…  She has a couple of more naughty fantasies in the same vein.  I am sure that you can imagine.

After finishing my clean up work, I sucked her clit into my mouth and began moving my tongue side to side, over it.  She came hard and fast.  She cried out, “What are you doing?”  Then came again…  Then again…  And she was out.  I lightly slapped her thigh and she came right back.  She asked again what I was doing, but I was already doing it and she came again.  This time, though, she pulled away.  She said it was too intense.

The best that we can figure, my sucking her clit into my mouth had unsheathed it.  So, my moderately paced, sideways tongue lashing was on her exposed clit.  That is always a guaranteed orgasm.

That is definitely a technique I will employ again, as I eagerly await the next item on her list.

 

Catching up…

Things were a big frantic yesterday and, definitely, today.  So, just wanted to post a short catch up.

Yesterday was surprisingly quiet, on the sex front.  The only thing that really happened during the day was while NW and I were driving down the interstate.  She gave me “road head”, kind of sorta.  There were just too many damned cars around us, not to mention a rather tall center console.  So, instead I gave her “road…uh…finger”?  A “road handjob”?  I’m not sure what you would call it, but it involved my fingers and NW’s pussy…and lots of orgasms.

After we arrived home, I grabbed her ass, while in the kitchen, as we often do to one another, and the back of her dress was noticeably wet.  So, it must have been okay.

Then, last night, it was very basic…I went down on her.  Yes, I pleasured front and back.  I finger fucked her, with four fingers.  It was a failed attempt at fisting, which we have only ever managed once.

That led to some rather rough finger fucking, g-spot stimulating, and clit stroking.  She came and came and squirted and squirted.  In fact, on one of her last squirts, the angle must have been just right, because I didn’t know it had happened until it showered down on top of my arm and head.  Yes, she squirted straight up in the air and caused a brief rainstorm on our bed.  It has been many years since that happened.

Once she caught her breath, she provided me with a bit of tease and denial.  As is always the case, anymore, once on edge, she could just about send me over the edge by blowing, hard, on my cock.  It feels great to stay on that edge.  But it is also so damned frustrating.  There is almost zero sucking, stroking and/or squeezing after that, because I am just too damned close.

That was the night.  We are still waiting to get word that the new cage has shipped.  But that could be up to three more weeks.  We are both hoping for sooner, though.

This afternoon, after work, was more quiet than normal.  Actually, it was silent.  Nothing sexual happened. We did retire for a few minutes, to talk.  Honestly, it was just to talk.  And we did talk.  Of course, before we got out of the bedroom, NW ended up on her back with my mouth all over her pussy and tongue in her ass.  Then she rolled onto her side and I repeated the process.  Then I rolled onto my back and she climbed on top and fed me her sex.

I have no idea how many orgasms she had.  She said “two or three dozen”.  That sounds about right.  She is so damned orgasmic.  I am not sure I would know what to do with a woman who I actually had to work to bring off.  Hell, if NW hasn’t had her first within a couple of minutes I think something is wrong.

Oh well…caught up.  And, no, there was no t&d tonight.  I, for one, am completely okay with that.

Stroke, Choke, Lick Her Bum…Make Good Hubby Eat His Come

Well, despite our best intentions, last night was not the wild, wanton, sexual frenzy that we had dreamed.  After hours of yard work, followed by hours of food prep, I has pretty worn down.  For her part, NW had a rough day with stomach pain and was pretty wiped out herself.  We still made it happen, though, as we both wanted it, mentally, even if our bodies tried a mutiny.

I won’t go into great detail, as the posts seem to be getting a little bit repetitive, of late.  But a somewhat brief overview…

It started with me fingering my sweet NW.  That, of course, led to me tonguing her.  I worked her sex for a bit, but moved to her ass to bring her first orgasm.  As I have tried to do, the past few days, I bring her to orgasm with external and shallow anal stimulation.  Once her orgasm starts, though, I plunge my tongue in as far as I can and spend the next ten to fifteen seconds fighting to not have it expelled by her convulsing anus.

Back to her sex, lots of flicking and sucking.  Several orgasms ensue.  Then when she is as sensitive as she is going to get, it pull back the hood of her clit and flick it rapidly, but lightly, with the tip of my tongue.  This always drives her wild.  Over-stimulation at its best.

This was followed by thirty minutes (maybe more) of her sucking, stroking and fondling me.  It was not a slow as usual and I would have been edged much sooner, but NW was in a fun mood.  She wouldn’t quit talking and, so, we lay there chatting and cracking jokes while I was being worked.

For instance, she said she said she should paint my cock.  I suggested she should paint it like a rainbow, them make it arch across the sky.  That took us to unicorns.  She wanted to paint a horse face on my scrotum and paint my cock gold, as the horn.  She reminded me that unicorn horn has magical properties.  To which I quipped, “only if you suck on it long enough”.  Cheesy?  Absolutely.  Situational?  No doubt.  But we were both so giddy it was all good.

Once I was edged, though, it became serious again.  She moved around and lay next to me, moving my hand to her crotch.  I used my fingers, outside and in, to bring her to orgasm several more times.  All the while she was stopping and starting with my cock, as I was on, or near, constant edge.

Then, I saw the opportunity, given our positioning and my arm already under her head.  You see, NW has a thing about being choked.  If she is already aroused, grabbing her by the throat and restricting her airflow will send her rocketing over the edge.  There would be no hand, this time, though.  I wrapped my arm around her neck as a choke hold.  As my arm tightened and I flexed my bicep and forearm into her throat, I heard her struggle to breathe.  Off she went into an intense, soaking orgasm.  I did this two more times.  During both of the last two I worked her clit hard.  She was flowing like a river and convulsing and jerking hard enough that I actually needed that arm to hold her in place.

Mind you, I am always very careful of how much force I use and how she is reacting.  It is incredibly erotic.  It causes mind-numbing orgasms, not to mention the disassociated feeling of your consciousness flickering.  And, no, I don’t ever do it to a point where there is a real threat of her passing out.  Just enough for her to feel the effect.

Once she had caught her breath, she went back to edging me.  She milked me again.  It was the fourth milking in thirty-three days.  It was so non-orgasmic that nothing actually left my body.  At least, not until I pressed my urethra, at my prostate, and ran my finger up the length.  Then a heavy load dribbled out of the head of my cock and onto NW’s waiting fingers.  From my cock, to her fingers, to my mouth.  There was a good amount, even though some had been lost in the transfer.  (We really need a shot glass in the bedroom.)

I don’t recall there being much taste.  I mainly remember the feel of it…thick, creamy and warm.  Down it went.  And I am glad that NW has taken to this.  Eating my own cum is completely a mental tweak.  But I do so love the idea of “recycling”.  It would seem such a horrible thing to waste it.

Oops…not as short as I thought it would be.

This and That…

Just a few things that I wanted to quickly go over…

First, you may or may not have noticed that there is now a “Captions” page.  I have never made a caption before, but I have read thousands of them.  There aren’t many.  Give me time…as I am trying to make my own rather than lift them from other sites.  And I am sure that they are not going to hit on everyone’s kink, as they will be missing references to things that I am just not into.  Hopefully, they will still be fun, though.

NW and I did have an early afternoon playtime.  It was short.  She caught me right before I went outside to do yard work.  It was basically her teasing me to edge a few times, before sitting on my chest.  She fed me her sex and her ass, of course.  Then she rolled off and went back to edging me, while I used my fingers to continue her orgasms.  It was about ten minutes in all, and she let me loose on the yard.

Somewhat tying into that is the fact that we are now heading into day 34 (tomorrow morning).  Given my pre-denial average of just over three orgasms a day (99% masturbation), I have now been denied my 100th orgasm.  NW told me that we were going to celebrate by not letting me come.  She is so thoughtful.

Talking about this a few days ago, we came to the conclusion that lost orgasms are like lost sleep.  They can’t actually ever be recovered.  I could have ten orgasms a day, for the next month (not likely since the most I have ever mustered in a day is nine), and I would be having a lot of orgasms.  Those 100, though, would still be forever lost…or enjoyed by NW instead, if you prefer.

And that brings me to my final thought for this post.  Where I am mentally.  Several days back I made a post about the stages of denial, based on time and what my feelings were in each.  There was one word, though, that I did not use, but wish I had…acceptance.

Somewhere around, or just after that one month mark, the situation becomes, well…normative.  The arousal still exists.  Frustration still rises at times.  The desire for orgasm is not diminished.  But you have come to accept that it is out or your hands and will happen when your keyholder decides it will.  Fretting over it isn’t going to help things or change them.

That is where I find myself.  I have accepted the circumstances of my situation and am just kind of going with it.  I know that NW has no interest in me having an orgasm any time soon.  And I am okay with that.  Do I want one?  Yes and no…  But the reality is, not having one is probably the most pleasurable experience to be had, of the three options…denial, ruined or full.

Being denied lacks the climactic intensity of the other two.  But I do not have to suffer through the letdown, no matter how brief.  I do not have to suffer through the range of emotions (confusion, frustration, physical discomfort and even anger) that a ruined orgasm brings.  And, if past experience holds true, a full orgasm, after just a month of denial, is actually unpleasant.  It is as though my body doesn’t fire in synch or that all of the involved muscles have forgotten how to have a coordinated ejaculation.  The surge of semen through my urethra is actually uncomfortable…even mildly painful.  The second full orgasm is always good.  But just getting one and going back to denial almost makes it undesirable.

Anyway, as I said, just a few things to throw out there.

End of a Long, Short Week

This work week seemed long, even though I was off the first two days of it.  Honestly, that is usually the case.  A partial week, following a long weekend, always seems long.  I guess the early a.m. catastrophe didn’t help things.

Nevertheless, I made it through and was welcomed home by smiling kids and a wife with a very wound up and wanton look in her eyes.  She, impatiently, asked if I had spoken to the kids.  Once I affirmed as much, she took my hand and, rather hastily, led me to the bedroom.  I hadn’t emptied my pockets before she was on the bed, legs spread and her sex pointedly facing me.

I playfully asked if she needed something, as I leaned past her sex and kissed her.  She gave me that “don’t be a smart ass” look and, right after kissing me, pushed me down to where I, apparently, needed to be.

I kissed the insides of her thighs, her outer labia, her hooded clit and then ran my tongue up the length.  The sound that escaped from her was pure ecstasy.  She needed it in a bad way, as was evidenced by how wet she already was.  I was more than happy to take that up a notch.

I ran my tongue up and down the length of her pussy, kissed and lightly sucked her clit.  The latter caused a delicious arch and moan.  The sounds of her pleasure are intoxicating.  They continued, as I tilted my head, sucked the top of both of her inner labia into my mouth.  I slid my mouth up and down, never breaking contact, as I gently sucked the length of her labia.  Then, at the bottom, yet again, I released.  Mainly because she had rotated her hips back…the universal signal for “eat my ass”.

Lick, flick, suck and probe.  I refrained from going too deep until her first orgasm started.  I gave it a second or two to establish and then drove my tongue in.  Her waning orgasm re-awakened and she convulsed hard.

I moved back to her sex and with an ever so loving fervor, worked her to several more orgasms.  When sated enough for the time being, she freed me and it was on with the afternoon and evening.

I believe that she had much grander plans for the evening.  Unfortunately, neither of us were feeling well by then.  We did manage a short session of tease and denial, oral servitude and more tease and denial.  It was enough to fill her need, despite not feeling well.  And definitely enough to keep her streak of making me ride the edge until the head of my cock had almost burst.

I would bet that NW plans on making up for that lost time, today.

 

Also, please note that there is now a captions page.  There aren’t many there, as I am making them, not lifting them.  More on that later…