Chastity – Some Backstory, Part 2

The cards and letters continue to pour in.

“Tom, you’re crazy, dude! I couldn’t last a couple of days without coming, let alone a month. How do you do it?”

Actually, I’ve been asked this a lot, and it’s a good question. Here’s some background:

I discovered yoga back in my late teens, and from there went on to read about other, related practices. In college, I had a girlfriend who was as sexually creative and adventurous as I was, and, well, to put it bluntly some of the stories of our exploits and experiments were circulated among the crowd at the small branch of the university that we attended.

Kara, if you’re reading this now, I never did find the you-know-what after we climbed down from the you-know-where.

Ah yes, good times… good times.

Back in those days it was not unusual for the profs to hang out with the students for a few beers, and one afternoon a professor who hailed from India asked if we knew about Tantric yoga. He suggested a few resources, which never panned out, but I continued to look for information. While magazines such as Cosmo and Better Homes and Mechanic’s Illustrated now freely discuss Tantric techniques, back in 1977 it was virtually impossible to find anything, certainly anything written in English.

But eventually I found some items which led me to other items, which led in turn to more useful items. Web surfing in those days was much more difficult; I ended up going to various college libraries and picking through card catalogues. In my travels, I ran across Taoist practices, among which were discussions on the benefit of “orgasmic continence” and the retention of chi and yang energy. I became intrigued. Would I really be healthier and longer-lived if I learned to have sex without releasing my fluids? At 20, it seemed that the only possible result of that would be to end up with swollen, purple testicles… but I was interested enough to give it a trial.

I soon discovered that by withholding my orgasms that I began to focus on the sensual aspects of lovemaking. Oh sure, it was always there, but I learned how to sublimate the desire for orgasm into obtaining more pleasure through the rest of my senses. Smells, tastes, sounds all were amplified and more focused. I discovered erogenous zones that I never knew existed, both on my own body and in my partner. Eventually I was able to achieve an orgasm – of sorts – simply from sensual stimulation. It wasn’t the same as ejaculatory orgasms; my body would suddenly start trembling and I felt transported to some other realm. They left me both drained and exhilarated. It didn’t happen all the time, nor did I deprive myself of the more conventional orgasms; it was just something nice to add to my sexual resume.

This sounds so dry when I write it out, but I can’t stress enough that this was a very enjoyable learning process for me, and it reshaped my entire sexual outlook. This is the period in my life where I realized that sex did not have to be split into “foreplay” and “intercourse.” I developed a desire for the anticipation; or in the vernacular, I began to appreciate the journey more than the destination.

My college girlfriend and I split up, and unfortunately I had a few relationships with women who did not share my ideas on sensuality and sexuality. This began the period in my life where I began to understand that I wasn’t merely sexually adventurous, that most women seemed to regard me as “kinky” if not downright “perverted.” I began to feel ashamed of trying “new” things, and pretty much stopped explaining my ideas and fantasies to my new partners. And while some of the Taoist and Tantric techniques stayed part of my repertoire, it would be years before I would again explore some of the other concepts.

The Age Thing

First of all, I want to thank everyone who either emailed me privately with good wishes or who commented on my recent post about the age thing. And, as is so often the case, while I spent some time thinking that I was the only one with those doubts and concerns, it seems that I’m not the only blogger who has been whacked by the wand of the birthday fairy when he wasn’t looking.

I’m really trying not to dwell on this. Really. Actually, that post was the first time I’d even discussed it anywhere, mainly because it takes me so damn long to figure out:
a) that something is bothering me, and
b) what that something really is.

Two months to figure this out, right? “Yeah, Tom writes some neat little stories once in a while. Too bad he’s so slow on the uptake…”

Kind of like my bitingly sarcastic retorts… the ones that I think up at 2:30 in the morning.

So, while I’m not dwelling on the subject, I was reading over the comments – and thank you again, everyone, for your support and good wishes – and Aradia’s jumped out at me: “I know what it’s like to feel depressed about feeling old.” This one niggled at me a bit, and I realized that I don’t worry about being old, or even getting old. Rather, my concern is more akin to the joke about falling out of an airplane – it’s not the height that kills you, it’s the sudden stop.

See, I’m not worried about getting older; rather, it only became clear to me that I might not.

I belong to a local civic group that has a number of active members in their late 50s and also in their late 20s. Even though I’m physically closer to the former group, I more often find myself socializing with the latter group; not out of any intentional reasons, but simply because that’s where I “see” myself. And while I think of myself as about 28 mentally, I do realize that I’m not physically 28. That is, I don’t make a fool of myself by, say, trying to outdrink any of the guys who are actually 28, or challenge them to arm wrestling, or to pull an all-nighter. I know that my body doesn’t bounce back like it did 20 years ago, and I (usually) remember that if I do any heavy labor that I’m going to be pretty sore the next morning. In short, I don’t try to act like an overgrown college student.

(Insert comment about piercing my nether regions here. Go ahead, you know you want to.)

So, spending several hours in a hospital ER has made me examine this mental / physical thing that I have blithely carried around with me. I wrote that this was the first time I’ve had to face the growing discrepancy between the age that I feel mentally, and the age that my body has become. I’ve been fortunate enough to be pretty healthy. My eyesight is good, my dexterity is good, and while a bad flu will knock me out for a few days, it doesn’t happen very often. I’ve put on a few pounds, but it hasn’t seemed to affect much except that I can’t fit into my leather pants from 20 years ago anymore.

No, I don’t have any pics of me in leather pants. Or me when I was 28. At least, not in digital format.

Anyway, I’ve realized that what’s bothering me is not the aging thing itself; Perhaps, because I’ve never had any health issues until now I’ve suddenly been shocked into looking at it from a completely different perspective. I’ve always known I was going to get old, but my conception of “getting old” has been analogous to a clock running down. That is, I have always figured that I’d simply get slower and slower and gradually run down until finally – after a long while – there wouldn’t be anything left.

The idea that the mainspring would suddenly break or a gear would jam and suddenly stop everything just never occurred to me.

Like I said, sometimes I’m slow on the uptake.

But as I get over this little bump, I’m being thankful that it turns out that there doesn’t seem to be anything wrong physically. I’ve had several tests for which the results were “perfectly normal” and if the upshot is only that I’ve started on blood pressure and cholesterol meds now, instead of after something serious, then I guess I’m ahead, right? Venting about this here has helped, too. It’s good for me to see that I wasn’t alone in my thinking, and that what I’ve been going through is, like my health, perfectly normal. Again, my thanks for those of you who wrote.

Oh, and I’ve noticed that my libido has returned; Mrs. Edge thanks you as well.

Not the Usual Birthday Present

It’s been a while since I posted a Friday Fantasy, and as I explained earlier, I just haven’t had it in me lately to do one. But based on the popularity of the few chastity related posts, I thought that some of you would find this interesting.

I wrote this story some years ago, and posted it on several different web boards. It’s been ripped off and re-posted by others – in one case on the same web board. I’ve made some small edits for grammar and spelling that I’d missed earlier, but the story is the same. And yes, there is a particular Friday Fantasy sub-plot that you will recognize.

For those so inclined, enjoy!

I’m too young to be this old.

No, I haven’t gone anywhere. I’ve managed to leave a few comments around the blogscape, but I just haven’t been motivated to post anything lately.

I’m feeling… blah. Depressed. And totally unsexual.

I wrote in my Live Journal that two months ago, during one of those New England storms that dumped loads of snow and ice on the area, I had spent a couple of hours outside shoveling and snowblowing, including dragging a 150 lb snowblower up some stairs. I hadn’t felt well most of the day, and by the time I came inside my chest was hurting. Knowing that my blood pressure is always on the high end of normal, and that my cholesterol is also inclined to be high, I called a nurse friend of mine to describe the symptoms. She suggested that it wouldn’t be a bad idea to get my ass to the nearest hospital. I tried to sneak out of the house to drive myself, but that plan didn’t work out. We found someone to watch our daughter, and headed out into the storm to the nearby university hospital.

They hooked me up to a bunch of wires, poked holes in my arms for blood, and did some tests. My blood pressure was through the roof, doubtless in part to merely having to be there in the first place, and in part to the fuss that my family made about it. After a few hours of observation, they informed me that my blood pressure was too high, gave me some pills, and told me to contact my doctor. The chest pains were probably a combination of the high BP and some general stress (business owners are prone to this), and lugging a damn snowblower up the stairs.

Anyway, the last two months have been a seemingly constant blur of blood tests, EKGs, and various other examinations that would please all but the most jaded medical fetishist. My doctor figured that since I’m already approaching the half-century mark, I’d have to be getting all this done in the next few years anyway, and we might as well do it now.

I’ve had a stress test, and even as I write this I’m wearing a harness… not a strap-on harness, but something to hold the device that tracks the electric impulses around my heart area. I’ve got a dozen wires taped to various body parts, and if I were more of a masochist I’m sure I’d enjoy the feeling of the tape ripping the hair from my body as they remove the electrodes. I know it’s going to hurt, because in the last couple of months I’ve had a hell of a lot of hair ripped from my body. I’ve also had some odd patches partially shaved and, me being of the hirsute nature, it makes me look a bit odd when I’m shirtless.

The upshot is that so far I appear to be healthy, at least within some normal range of the term.

So, why am I depressed?

It seems silly, doesn’t it? I’m taking blood pressure lowering meds that within a few weeks have actually lowered my BP to well within normal levels for the first time in years. I’m taking something else which is supposed to lower my cholesterol, although I won’t know for sure until the next serious of blood tests confirms this. My eyesight, though starting to change, is still better than normal. I’m overweight, but not by much, and indeed, I’ve already lost fifteen pounds during this. I should be dancing in the streets, right? Counting my blessings and all that?

I think that my problem is this: we all have an “age” that we feel. Mentally, I tend to think of myself as being about 28. Physically, except for some grey hair, I’ve had nothing to contradict this mental attitude.

Until now.

I think that for the first time I’ve been caught by surprise by this whole “getting older” thing. I’ll be 49 in a few months, and it is only this situation which has made me aware that I’m not repeating my 28th birthday over and over again. Adding to the surprise is a bit of frustration, too: I’ve taken relatively good care in watching what I eat, taking vitamins, and being moderate in using alcohol. I take the stairs instead of the elevator, and park halfway across the lot so I can walk to the store. I grill simple vegetable and meat dishes, rarely touch fast food, and buy veggies fresh when in season. Part of me wants to know which department should get the complaint email; I’ve been taking good care of myself so these kinds of things shouldn’t happen, right?

The doc says that all this has been beneficial; that with my genetic predisposition I’d probably be much worse off if I hadn’t been so moderate in my lifestyle. All I know is that it feels unfair.

Whew. It felt good to finally get that out.

Okay, I’m going to stop with the whinging. I’m much better off than a lot of other people, even people half of my (physical) age. Things in general could be much worse, and I am indeed fortunate to live in an advanced technological age where I don’t have to be so concerned about these issues.

I’m really going to try to get over this. It’s just a bit of a shock, you know? As I keep saying: I’m too young to be this old.

---

If you found this interesting, you might also be interested in some of my other real-life experiences which are listed in the True Tales page.

And more questions from me(me)

Let’s see… I’ve posted the 5 interview questions to Lady Julia, Goddess Susan, and Kimba. So, that leaves…

Cat:

1) How would your life have been different if your family stayed up in NJ instead of moving to NC?

2) You are very open and out there on your blogs. Did you make a conscious decision to do that, or did it just evolve that way?

3) When did you first begin to think about exploring D/s? What made you finally take the leap to try it out?

4) You’ve been separated longer than some people have actually been married. What’s the deal with that?

5) Boxers or briefs? (turning this back on you!) And thongs, french cut, or what?

… and Lady Calliah:

1) Your blog is named “A Kinky Woman’s Guide to the Universe.” Is this a Douglas Addams reference?

2) You seem to be happy living in a rural area. How would your life be different if you were living in a big city?

3) You keep talking about how your husband changed last year. What about you? Did you change or have to change to accommodate this? How is your relationship different?

4) Being a full time mother of three little ones has to seriously cut back on the kink activities. How do you handle that?

5) Are you as mellow in real life as you seem to be from your blog?

Susan, in case you missed them, here are the questions from the other day:

1) What motivated you to give up a career in order to be a stay-at-home mother? What regrets do you have about this?

2) You and Ty seem to be exploring D/s in a very natural way. How did this happen? Did he suggest it?

3) If it was at Ty’s suggestion, how did he suggest it, and what was your reaction? And did it change your perspective of him?

4) Would you have cosmetic surgery? Why or why not?

5) Where the hell is my car? Boxers or briefs? And thongs or french cut?

And Kimba, here are yours again:

1) So many women are uncomfortable with physical expression. What was one of the things that influenced you to enjoy kissing (pashing)?

2) Was it hard for you to move to a big city? What drove you to make such a move?

3) Eyes open or closed during lovemaking? And why?

4) Are you more or less comfortable with your body than you were at 24? Why?

5) Boxers or briefs? Thongs or french cut? (I stole this from Cat)

Did I miss anyone else?

Me(me) Interviewed

After I interviewed Lady Julia, we swapped places.

Tom… first, where’s that picture you promised Susan and me? Hmm? No that isn’t one of your questions

It’s coming, I swear! I’ve already lost like 10 pounds, and I’m working on the next 10. Then we’ll figure out the correct angle. I know that the camera is supposed to add 10 pounds, so I’ve got to prep for this.

Ok..

1) If money, time, and physical health were such that you could do any daring activity that you chose, what three activities would you try for the first time? (You define what “daring activity” means to you.)

Bigamy. From the stories I hear, that sounds pretty gosh-darned daring.

Sports car racing. Not NASCAR, but those little Grand Prix sporty numbers that race around Italy and France, and end up in Monaco with groupies dying to get into your pants.

Not so much daring as adventurous: I’d like to hike the entire Appalachian Trail.

2) Have you any interest in hypnosis, either therapeutic or for more erotic pleasures?

I visited a hypnotherapist to help control my IBS and other stress-related symptoms. It was spectacularly unsuccessful, and I had some parting words with the therapist.

I have, however, successfully hypnotized people in the past. Did I mention that I’ve got an undergrad background in Psychology? I’ve done it in erotic situations, as well.

Yes, I am an ambulatory Swiss Army knife of useful trivia.

3) You’re going away for a romantic weekend with your Lady. Before you leave, you pack a bag with a few items to enhance the weekend. What’s in your bag?

This one’s easy: The harness with her favorite dildo, the velcro “love cuffs”, some Astro-glide, and a bottle of Pinot Noir.

4) If you were to choose a song as the theme song for your life, what song would you choose?

“Once in a Lifetime” by the Talking Heads would be high on my list.

5) You’ve been given $10,000 with the proviso that you do something totally decadent. What do you do?

There is a little town at the northern end of Napa Valley that is known for its spas and hot springs. I’d rent an entire floor of one of the hotels in town for a couple of weeks, and have all the dinners catered by the local culinary arts school. We’d spend the entire day getting massages, spa treatments, skin defoliations… all the while sampling the local wines.