Help a sister out

My new BFF Dishevelled Domina and I have been kicking around the idea that the terms “dominance” and “submission” in a sexual context might have too much cultural baggage to be useful, especially to new people looking for just a little play. That prompted her to ask to interview a number of “submissive” guys last year, the results of which she posted over the course of a few months.

In the interests of further research, she would love to hear from women who do not necessarily identify as dominant, but who do enjoy taking charge or running the show in the bedroom. Here is her actual invitation:

If you are a woman who likes to decide the how and when of sex, I have some questions for you. You needn’t consider yourself a dominatrix or even claim the title dominant woman. If you enjoy taking the lead in bed or setting the pace sexually, I’d like to know a little more about you. Female sexuality is incredibly diverse and if you are a woman who prefers to be more in control than your partner then you are the kind of gal I want!

Please email me at dishevelleddomina (at) gmail (dot) com.

I think that this is a great idea. Mrs. Edge definitely does not self-identify as a domme, but certainly enjoys directing traffic. If this sounds like you, please drop her a note or visit her blog. We’d love to hear your side of the story.

And for no good reason, I’m including a picture of Gillian Anderson not being a latex-clad dominatrix.

I think I’m having a Sugasm

The best of this week’s blogs by the bloggers who blog them. Highlighting the top 3 posts as chosen by Sugasm participants. Want in Sugasm #135? Submit a link to your best post of the week using this form. Participants, repost the link list within a week and you’re all set.

This Week’s Picks
Tantra is work and a two way street
“Tantra is hard work and is not all light and orgasmic play.”

Nyotaimori
“She smiles wantonly, but says nothing.”

Submit
“But when you’re really attracted to someone, and part of that attraction is to their dominance, it almost gives you a second wind for pain.”

Mr. Sugasm Himself
Sugar Bank

Editor’s Choice
Discussing a lifestyle event with strangers

More Sugasm
Join the Sugasm

See also: Fleshbot’s Sex Blog Roundup each Tuesday and Friday.

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Not the Usual Anniversary Present – 8

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7

Week 31: Something changed for the both of us.

For the next few weeks after the night that she tied me down, her libido seemed to increase. After having gotten accustomed to the once a week oral or strap-on sessions, it was a pleasant surprise to have her after me three times a week. Even though she refused to let me out, I felt my own libido responding in kind as I took her with the strap-on or spent a half hour with her thighs wrapped around my head. I’m not sure what inspired her, but I decided to enjoy it while it lasted.

One night I mentioned casually, “I don’t get it. Usually when you’re in the mood, you’re willing to take the damn cage off of me.”

“Well, it’s only been a week or so, hasn’t it?” she replied lazily. While I attributed her lack of precision to the fact that her thighs were wrapped around my head, it didn’t bode well. Usually she’s good about keeping track of the days.

“No, it’s been five weeks now, and I’m really having a hard time.”

“Hmmm. Only a month and already you’re complaining? I should make you go for another month just for that.” Her fingers tightened on my hair and she pulled my face back between her legs. “In fact” she added as I resumed licking her wet mound, “I’m thinking that it’s time to take your training to the next level.”

I managed to lift my head a bit. “Training? What the hell are you talking about? This isn’t training, it’s denial! You expect me to be happy coming once a month?”

Her legs tightened around me, pulling me back into position. “Right now, I think that you’re going to be happy coming whenever I let you, be it once a month or once a year.”

“Once a year?” I exclaimed, “I can’t do that – that’s crazy!”

In answer, she held my head down with her hands and lifted her hips. I got the message. I resumed my slow licking and sucking, all the while listening to her talking – more to herself than to me – about my “going for some really long term training.” The more she talked to herself, the more aroused she became, until soon she was bucking and thrusting her hips so much that I could barely keep up.

Afterwards, she laid across my chest, relaxing. I was still aroused, of course, but not painfully so; somehow being able to give her so much pleasure enabled me to sublimate my own arousal.

“Umm, about this ‘training’ you mentioned…” I began, “It sounds very erotic and all that, but I barely get to come once a month as it is; besides, you’re always saying how much you prefer my cock to the dildo. It’s not going to be easy for you to do without, you know.”

I was hoping to talk some reason into her. She looked up at me.

“I’m sure it’s going to be hard for a while,” she smiled.

Week 34: I find that I’ve lost track of the time.

People talk about “lifestyle” this or that, without really having a conception of what it’s like to live 24/7 with something. Oh sure, they do it for a week, maybe a month, but for most of us, exploring some alternative sexuality is more of a vacation from real life, rather than becoming part of real life itself.

I don’t remember when it changed for me. At one point the idea of wearing the cage every day was exciting; even the frustration of being denied an orgasm for a week or two was arousing in a way. Eventually, though, the reality slammed home – I wasn’t ever going to have as much sex as I wanted; or rather, I was never going to have as many orgasms as I wanted. It took a while to work through the frustration of not being in control of my cock, to have to forgo the pleasures the joyful consummation of lovemaking. I developed a love-hate relationship with the steel cage that I built – I was proud of how well it contained me and how secure it was, but hated having to wear it.

When my wife began keeping me locked for longer and longer periods, I found myself so grateful for the times she released me that I didn’t mind going back in right. Eventually though, even that pleasure was mitigated by her decision that I should clean her with my mouth and tongue immediately afterward. When we discovered a good strap-on harness and dildo for me to wear, it was almost a mixed blessing – I was unlocked even less frequently, but at least I didn’t have to humiliate myself as often. And I realized, that’s what it was – humiliation; I was willing to promise anything for those ten seconds of glorious fireworks.

But at some point a few months ago I realized that I had gotten past even that, and became almost perversely proud of my ability to hold out without begging for relief. Once every month? I could handle that. But two months? Three? I tried to put the thoughts out of my mind. Fortunately, my wife really enjoys intercourse, and we both knew that the strap-on, although pleasant, just didn’t quite have the same feel. Maybe it was the angle, or the shape of the head, or how it was situated on my hips. Sooner or later, she was going to let me out. She had to, right?

Week 36: Silly me – I was supposed to be enjoying this.

A few weeks later I came home early and picked up the mail. There was a small package addressed to her from a company that I recognized as an adult products mail order house. I was curious, but couldn’t figure out a way to open the package without leaving a trace. I left it on her dresser. Later on, after she had come home, I saw that the package was gone, but she didn’t say anything about it. That night, I mentioned it when I was giving her a foot rub.

“Oh, it’s just a little something that I thought would be interesting for us,” she replied mysteriously. “You’ll find out on my next day off,” she said simply, and dropped the subject.

Her next day off was in two more days. Eagerly arising, I fixed her some coffee and toast and I hopped into the shower while she ate. I realized that she didn’t give me the key before I took my shower, but she sometimes likes to tease me by letting me think that she “forgot”. I slipped into the bed, and she was already waiting for me.

“Here, eat me,” she commanded, holding my head in her hands. I proceeded to lick her gently. “No, harder,” she said, “make me nice and wet.”

I thrust my tongue into her, drawing it up her clit in long, firm strokes. She came quickly, bucking her hips. “Oh, that was so nice. You don’t know how much I’ve come to appreciate your tongue these last few months.”

“It seems like you only appreciate my tongue,” I complained.

“Oh no,” she assured me, “I love your cock inside me, too. It’s just that it’s such a hassle to unlock you, let you out of your cage, and then lock you back up again.” She pushed me onto my back. “That’s why I have something for you,” she explained, “that is, for us“.

Reaching under her pillow, she brought out a realistic – a very realistic – looking dildo.

“Oh my God,” I exclaimed, “that’s me!”

She nodded. “I told you that for our anniversary I wanted something different, remember? Did you figure out that I had made a cast of your cock last month? I had it made into an extension for you.”

“It’s a penis extension. You want me to put this on?” I asked, incredulously, “I won’t feel a thing!”

“It’s not just an extension,” she explained, “This is made from the best ‘cyberskin’ for a squishy, yet firm feel.”

Handing it to me, I saw that the front end was solid, but the other end was hollow. I squeezed it – the tip was amazingly lifelike. I saw the familiar veins and ridges – holding it almost felt like holding my own cock. No, it felt just like holding my own cock – just not attached to my body.

“It’s meant to fit over the end of your chastity cage,” she continued, “you’ll be able to wear this when I want some of your nice cock inside me.”

Looking it over again, I said, “If you like my cock so much, then why not just unlock me? Why do we need an extension? “

“Silly,” she replied, “of course you wouldn’t need one – normally.” She took the extension from my hands and leaned in close to my face. She gave me a deep kiss and whispered “But we don’t have a normal arrangement anymore, do we?”

She sat astride my legs and rolled the hollow part up like the end of a sock. Then she placed it over my cage and unrolled it. It fit perfectly, and the tight rubber held it firmly in place. I could see the outline of the steel cage at the base, but otherwise, it looked like I had a full erection – my own erection.

“Oh my,” she said as she stroked it, “it feels so lifelike. I’m sure it will feel as good as it looks, too.” Quickly she positioned herself over it and lowered her pussy onto the shaft. I could feel pressure, but no warmth, no friction.

“Hey,” I complained, moving my hips, “what the hell are you doing?”

She was already pressing her hips to mine in pleasure. “Ooh, honey, it feels just like yours. So nice and deep, too.” She continued to grind her hips onto mine. I reached up to her to fondle her breasts and waist, to hold her ass. I knew we were fucking, but I couldn’t feel it. This was worse than wearing a strap-on, worse than anything I could have imagined. The feeling was absolutely maddening, and I began to pump my hips frantically in order to feel something – anything.

“Oh, yeah, just like that,” she mumbled, oblivious to my own frustration, “I can feel the bumps from the cage inside me, it’s wonderful!” She leaned her head back and shuddered softly as she came. “Oh, that was nice. Much better than having you just stick some old dildo inside of me. I wish I had known about this months ago.”

She dismounted and lay down next to me, pulling me on top of her. Hoping that this was a temporary distraction, I carefully thrust into her. She was so wet that I, that is, my extension slid in effortlessly. Her legs immediate wrapped around my own, and I proceeded to pound into her, half in lust, half in frustration. Before long she was biting my shoulder and pushing her own hips hard into me. We fucked this way until I lost count of how many times she came. Finally she seemed to relax, so I pushed her onto her side so that I could enter her from behind. My wife just closed her eyes and gripped my hand as I plunged into her, filling her deeply. I still couldn’t feel anything but some slight rubbing and the pressure on the ring around my cage. I had hoped that in this position I could make my balls rub on her thigh enough to stimulate me, but after a few minutes it was obvious that there was no way that I could come with this extension on. My wife, however, had no problem coming, and did so a few more times before she asked to get on top again.

I started to complain, but she reminded me that the week before I had come without permission, so I had to accept my punishment. She seemed to get excited by telling me this, and she came quietly. She placed her hands on my shoulders and leaned forward to kiss me. I was a wreck, of course, but she placed a finger on my lips.

“That was wonderful. It felt so real, because it’s just like you,” she said contentedly, “and there’s no danger of you coming before I give you permission. Wouldn’t you say that that is a good thing?”

“Umm. . .”

“And it’s so easy to put on, just half a minute to get you ready, and we don’t have to bother with the straps and getting things in just the right position, like with the strap-on. That’s a big plus, isn’t it?”

I nodded, unsure of where this was going, but sure that they weren’t going well.

“And I kind of miss just being able to have a quickie, don’t you?”

Still unsure, I nodded again.

“I’m glad you feel that way, because I was thinking that lately I might not be too tired to have a nice fucking at night. I miss that, don’t you?” For emphasis, she ground her hips into me.

Again I nodded – this really was not sounding better.

I’ve wanted to have more sex at night,” she continued, “but the problem is that it’s such a hassle to unlock you at night. Then you’re too excited anyway, and you either try too hard to hold back and it breaks my rhythm, or worse, you come too fast, and that’s not fair to me – especially since when I punish you, I’m only punishing myself. Don’t you agree?” She squeezed my balls firmly.

“Umm, yes. . . er, no. . . er . . “This was looking bad again.

She silenced me with a kiss. “But now we can have sex whenever we want. With this nice extension, we could have a quickie, and there’s no unlocking, no cleaning up, you can fuck me for as long as I want, and I’ll never have to worry again about you getting overheated. And best of all,” she continued, “it’s just like you, so I’ll never miss having you inside me! Doesn’t that sound like a great idea?”

“A great idea for who?” I asked with my heart in my stomach.

“And to think that this is all because you wanted a little teasing for your birthday a few months ago. Thank you, darling, for a present that is giving me so much pleasure to give you.” She leaned down to kiss me again.

A few? It had been almost eight months! This was looking decidedly bad. “Um, you mean that we’ll use this to have a quickie, or sometimes at night, and on your days off we’ll still unlock me so I can get some action, right?” I nudged her again, “Right?”

She looked down at me, smiling.

“Silly,” was her only reply.


More of my ridiculous attempts at erotica can be found on my Stories page.

Dating Scene

“Of course I want dessert. What, are you in a hurry or something?”

Way back in the day, before she became Mrs. Edge, we were at one of those upscale Italian restaurants. You know the kind: they are usually named after an island in the Mediterranean, the waiters are named after one of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Terrapins, and where you can’t get spaghetti; instead you order Salmonella a la piccatta served over a bed of risotto cosi fan tutti. We’d been there before, because it was the place where I took my dates when I wanted to impress them. I had just discovered that she was wearing thigh-high stockings with a garter belt, and suddenly I was in a hurry to get her back to my condo and show her exactly what I thought about such behavior.

We ordered coffee named after some kind of a monkey and a tiramisu - which seems to be Italian for “soggy bitter cheesecake” – for her, and some kind of dark chocolate torte for me. I admired her out of the corner of my eye: She had that rare combination of dark hair and blue eyes, and looked a bit like Kirstie Alley in her pre-Jenny Craig spokesmodeling days. That night, she was wearing a low-cut black dress with huge red florals, reminding me of a Spanish dona on the costa del sol. I was dressed in a dark jacket with a dark shirt and loud red power tie (this being the late 1980s, I went with the uniform of the era). I’m sure we looked quite the couple – that is, we would have if you could have actually seen us in the dark, shaded booth in the back of the restaurant.

“Are you sure that you don’t want these ‘to go’?” I asked when the waiter returned. She elbowed me in the ribs and toyed with her liquor-soaked cake. I should have known better than to get between a woman and her dessert, and as she and I had been dating for a while, I knew that as much as she enjoyed a nice meal out, she would still be in the mood for some fun when we got back to my place. I bided my time, imagining what we would be doing later on.

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Rika does Vanilla!

Okay, here’s something that I rarely do – have a guest blogger here on The Edge of Vanilla.

Of course, I’ve never asked anyone before, either.

Anyway, long-time web surfers looking for femdom-related readings have no doubt stumbled across the Uniquely Rika web site, hosted by Ms. Rika, a non-pro dominatrix who runs an informational web forum and who has spent much of the last two decades counseling couples who have some interest in exploring female domination. She has a very simple, down-to-earth approach to D/s and her web site is laid out as a safe, easy-to-follow guide that reflects her own development over the last twenty years.

Believing that there was a need for a written guide that presents female domination in a safe way, and one that avoids the stereotypes commonly associated with domination – stereotypes that tend to turn women off to the idea – Ms. Rika recently published a book, “Uniquely Rika,” in order to bring the essential points of her web site to a wider audience.

From the Lulu Publishing web site:

This is NOT your typical D/s manual. Uniquely Rika provides a practical, intelligent, common-sense approach to adding / enhancing D/s in your relationship; with long-termed success. You’ll see how fulfilling the inner desire to serve or be served is within your reach – without having to mask yourself in artificial roles and games.

Ms. Rika explains why several popular approaches fail to last. She then details her approach to creating successful D/s relationships; one which has proven as effective with seasoned D/s players as with those who never thought themselves to be a ‘dominant’ or ‘submissive’.

Regardless of your experience level, Uniquely Rika will provide a new insight, a heightened awareness, and a fresh perspective on D/s that will enhance your relationships, forever. Though written from the ‘female-led’ perspective, the concepts are applicable to any loving partners.

If you’re serious about a lasting and meaningful D/s-based relationship, you’ll want to read “Uniquely Rika”.

Okay, enough with the jibber jabber. Ms. Rika agreed to be interviewed by the staff here at The Edge of Vanilla, and our diligent writers spent considerable time in researching in order to come up with questions a little more engaging than “What is your favorite color?” or “What is the average airspeed of a swallow?”

EoV: Self-styled femdom experts are all over the net. What’s your angle on this? Why listen to you, or in this case, read your book?

Ms. Rika: There is so much literature out there on D/s and BDSM, unfortunately, it’s mostly designed to sell to the male-centric fantasy of the whip-wielding, leather-clad, ego-centric bitch. As a fantasy, it’s not such a bad thing; I, too, enjoy the role-playing, dressing up, and scene-games from time time.

However, the problem arises when men who recognize an inner desire to submit mistakenly try to convert this fantasy into a full-time lifestyle, without regard to their partner’s personality. They turn to their wives or girlfriends and try to convince them to take on the role of Dominatrix. The problem is: their partners are seldomly whip-wielding, leather-clad, ego-centric bitches (if they were, the guy wouldn’t be the one initiating the lifestyle, would he?)!

Men need to identify their true inner needs. Do they want to serve a woman who recognizes her position of dominance? Or, would they rather just be ‘done’ while helpless to resist? The former serves the woman… the latter serves the man.

If a man has a true inner desire to serve – and to be subservient to – a woman who openly recognizes and accepts her position of dominance, then he needs to commit himself to learning how to submit to her unique desires and needs. He needs to be taught how to serve the unique woman who has accepted his service.

“Uniquely Rika” addresses this problem from both the male and female point of view. It discusses in depth why other approaches to D/s fail in the long run, and why they often leave the partners dissatisfied and resentful. It then takes a practical approach to creating a long-term dynamic that is layered on top of the relationship, one that works for both parties.

It works because it is rooted in the basic foundations of relationships and open communication of intent. It works because the unique needs and identities of both parties are addressed and preserved. There are no roles to play, no protocols to follow (we leave those concepts to playtime, where they still exist with all their glory!). In my perspective, D/s extends the relationship, it does not replace it.

The book provides a new and different look at D/s that I believe both experienced and novice D/s partners alike will find invaluable.

EoV: What kind of personal information would you like readers to know in order to make them feel comfortable with your style of domination? What works for you and your husband? What did not work for the both of you, and how did you resolve it?

Ms. Rika: When I first realized that I enjoyed dominating men, I was 12. It’s a long story which I’ve told online many times, but I realized having a male at my mercy excited me. I took on the roles and played the scenes. Still, I always felt a little empty. I always realized the men were getting what they wanted and I was judging my “success” on their reactions! It was all about what I did to him or made him do. It didn’t feel like I was the one being served.

Over our 20 years of marriage, my husband and I migrated from the fantasy-oriented, male-centric BDSM scenes to the more practical service-oriented, domme-centric lifestyle of D/s. Neither of us have ever been happier. Now, D/s is about what he does for me, not what I do to him. We judge the success of the D/s dynamic on how satisfied I am; and on how good a job he does in anticipating my needs and fulfilling them.

Sure, we still scene, but that’s playtime – a gift from me to him. “Uniquely Rika” spends a lot of time on gifts, and explains why playtime is so different than real time. It also addresses why gifts are different from – and better than – rewards.

EoV: You claim to be a lifestyle domme. Have you ever subbed? If so, what drew you back to the top side?

Ms Rika: I’ve not subbed for very long. I’ve done a few scenes which I didn’t enjoy. I’m defintely not submissive!

EoV: What made you decide to write a book? What’s different about your approach than we might read in some of the other books out there?

Ms. Rika: Over the past 15 years, I’ve been refining this approach. Starting back in the days of Compu$erve’s channel 12, through Yahoo Groups, and most recently my own forum (www.msrika.com) I’ve been learning what’s in and on the minds of submissive guys and dominant women around the world. I have been reshaping their minds for many, many years through common sense, irrefutable logic, and an empathy for their true inner needs. I felt the approach had matured enough to put it all together into a single reference; a reference sadly missing on today’s shelves. I wanted it to be out there, generally available!

EoV: Can you give some examples of situations in which you’ve helped others?

Ms. Rika: There are many couples who came to my forum; usually it’s the guy who tells me his wife can’t dominate him “correctly”. I just love that. It doesn’t take more than a short conversation to make him understand how what he’s asking for is for only himself; a very self-serving and selfishly motivated request hidden in mock-subservience. In most cases, we can delve into what he really needs at his core; sometimes it’s a “do me while I’m helpless” scene, but more often he really does want to submit and serve. When it’s the latter, I help them – sometimes over a period of a year or more – to learn to serve and self-discipline… and they are so much happier! It’s very rewarding for me.

The contact sometimes comes from a woman trying to become her husband’s fantasy domme. As I point out in “Uniquely Rika”, there is no way to keep up with a man’s fantasy; it’s an ever-escalating, ever-modulating, unachievable goal that will swallow up her identity and leave her very unsatisfied. I have to help her understand this, and that the key to happiness for both of them is for her to assume a truly dominant and confident role and openly accept his submission on her terms.

I go into detail on all of this in the book – there’s a lot to it.

EoV: Here’s a question that I think will be the most interesting to the male readers. What can a man do if his partner seems to be hopelessly vanilla?

Ms. Rika: Read “Uniquely Rika”! Seriously, there is nobody who is “hopelessly vanilla”. The battle for a successful D/s dynamic is not about teaching the woman to be a fantasy dominatrix, it’s about teaching the man how to serve the unique needs of his partner! Once the dynamic of service-oriented D/s is properly established, everything else falls into place. His actions towards her are based in his intent of service and she accepts them from a position of dominance.

This happens because they’ve openly communicated and accepted the intents of their actions. The roles and games of playtime become gifts for the man… gifts his partner can feel comfortable giving whenever she wants, because she knows she’s playing a game in the context of her own generosity.

And if she happens to be a closet whip-wielding, leather-clad, ego-centric bitch – he’s going to find that out very, very quickly! But the chances are that he’ll just be more satisfied than he could ever have imagined simply serving the needs of the woman he loves.

EoV: I see your site – and presumably your book- aimed at newbies or mainly-vanilla couples. Why do you believe that your book has something to offer experienced D/s players?

Ms. Rika: There are two reasons: one as it relates to the nature of service-oriented D/s and the second as it relates to the “male-centric” activities section of “Uniquely Rika”.

Firstly, the interesting thing about service-oriented D/s is that it doesn’t matter what the action is, the power exchange itself is the context in which all actions take place. Remember, the focus for the submissive guy is to learn to please his partner. If the dominant partner is most happy when torturing him, then it is his duty to learn how to suffer for her. If she is not into that, he must give her whatever else she needs and wants.

Even if it’s a seemingly non-kinky activity, the fact that it’s based in the power exchange and that he offers it with the intent to serve and that she accepts it from her position of dominance, it will be D/s-based and charged with the excitement of power-exchange activity!

Whether you’re a pure-service partner getting your clothes folded or a BDSM-aficionado enjoying the pain you’ve created for your sub, the power exchange is the same! The difference lies in the individual and unique likes and desires of the dominant partner. “Uniquely Rika” makes this clear – the concepts are suitable to all people regardless of the degree to which they are involved in traditional BDSM activities!

Secondly, “Uniquely Rika” covers gifts and playtime in depth. Topics that fall under this category tend to be more male-centric and include chastity devices, tease and denial, educational scenarios, a little bit on bondage, and a bit on post-orgasmic torture. I think that the fantasy-based players will find these topics both interesting and educational.

EoV: What is the average airspeed of a swallow?

Ms. Rika: Did you mean a European or African swallow?

Despite the fact that she considers chastity devices to be sex toys – a view which I can’t really dispute – I’ve always liked Rika’s approach. Back when Mrs. Edge took an interest in wanting to learn about the subject, Rika’s web site was one of the resources to which I pointed her. I also look in on the forums at her website, on which Ms Rika usually takes the time to reply to just about every question.

Her book is available at Lulu, and will shortly be available in the mainstream outlets (Amazon, Barnes & Noble, etc.). Considering some of the books on female domination that have been published in the last few years, I’m sure that it will be a welcome edition addition to those who are looking for a safe and sane introduction to the lifestyle.

Ms. Rika, thank you for taking the time for this interview. The staff here at The Edge of Vanilla enjoyed working with you, and we wish you continued success.

Not the Usual Anniversary Present – 7

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

Week 18: My week long birthday fantasy seemed to have turned into a permanent arrangement.

One night she happened to notice me rubbing some cream on the exposed area of my cock, and dabbing a little under the ring. I had long stopped trying to get myself off this way, since in the past it has only led to frustration, a sore cock, and lots of wasted cream; but I found that a little lubrication at night helped ease some of my discomfort. When she offered to help me, I was eager to have her lend a hand, so I lay back on the bed while she massaged the cream around the cage. Her touch being much better than my own, I was soon moaning in pleasure, fervently hoping that she wouldn’t stop.

My wife poured then poured cream on my balls, and massaged them with one hand while she rubbed my caged cock with the other. I tried not to let her see how excited I was so that she wouldn’t stop. Unfortunately, I couldn’t keep from thrusting my hips up to meet her strokes. Eyes twinkling, she squeezed my balls more firmly, knowing full well what effect that would have on me.

“Please, please let me come,” I begged, “I’m so close… mmm. “

“I don’t know,” she replied slowly, “you don’t seem to enjoy it when I let you come with this thing on.”

“Oh, we can take it off, can’t we?” I was becoming frantic.

“No, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she said, but kept rubbing and squeezing. “I don’t think that you should get to come so easily. Besides, I’m sure you won’t even enjoy it.”

My mouth was almost too dry to speak. “Yes, yes, I’ll enjoy it, I promise. Please, don’t stop, it feels so nice, oh please oh please …oh oh oh… uunhh…”

The next thing I knew, I had a few short spasms and the come just dribbled out of me. As usual, it wasn’t enough to abate my desire. My wife seemed fascinated by watching my cock leak all that fluid, and kept prodding it. Finally it stopped coming out, leaving a small pool of come on my stomach.

“Not very much,” she commented, “you used to shoot so much of it, remember?”

I nodded, remembering how she often gave me hand jobs and I would end up with come as far up as my pillow, or sometimes even the wall. Apparently she remembered that, too.

“No, not very much anymore, I’m afraid,” she said, shaking her head, “Poor honey, just can’t shoot if you can’t get it hard, can you?” She bent down to give me a kiss. “Oh, by the way,” she added, “I don’t remember giving you permission to come, so I hope you realize what this means.”

Damn it, I thought to myself, probably an extra week until she lets me out again. Ignoring the pained expression on my face, she just draped a towel over me and left the room.

Week 21: My frustration started to give way to resigned acceptance.

At some point I began to realize that I was going longer and longer between unlockings. While our frequency remained pretty much the same for lovemaking, it seemed like she found one excuse after another to avoid letting me out, so that lovemaking sessions invariably became exercises in frustration for me. Yet I still woke up each morning spooning her, my caged cock pressing against her round ass. Or I’d rub up against her in the kitchen, or pop into the shower with her to feel her naked body against mine. I began to take pleasure in having her rub other areas of my body – my ass, my thighs, my chest. I didn’t stop looking forward to my now-infrequent orgasms, but I learned how to become almost satisfied with our long make-out sessions.

My wife, I’m sure, noticed this because she taunted me a little less frequently about not coming, even though we seemed to indulge more frequently in mutual kissing and fondling. She even once remarked that I didn’t ask as often to be released from the cage. I had a few moments of confusion over this; was I really becoming more satisfied without coming? Having fewer orgasms didn’t sound like such a good thing to me, but at the same time I no longer watched the calendar like I used to. Was there something wrong with me?

Week 26: An unusual turn of events.

For a while I wondered if my not paying attention to the calendar meant that I was losing my sex drive; over the last few months I’d gone from being allowed an orgasm each week, then every other week, and now it was about once a month; even less frequently when she decided that those involuntary emissions counted. Yet each time we crawled into bed together, I certainly felt randy and aroused, even when I knew I wouldn’t be unlocked.

One afternoon there was a package in the mail. My wife just smiled when she saw it, but wouldn’t tell me what was inside. That night, she told me that she was going to unlock me, but that I had to promise not to come until she allowed it. I readily agreed to be tied to the bed – hell, I would have agreed to be tied to a porcupine if it meant a good orgasm for me – and she carefully fastened my wrists and ankles to the straps at the corners of the bed. She unlocked the cage and carefully worked it off of my cock, stiff with anticipation. She made me squirm as she cleaned it with a warm washcloth, and then went into the bathroom for a few moments. When she returned, she had removed her clothes, and was holding a large towel. She placed the towel over my face and told me to remain quiet. I heard some unfamiliar noises, then what sounded like rummaging in a shopping bag, and the tearing of paper. A soft “pop” and then I gasped as she worked warm lotion over the head of my cock, letting it dribble down the shaft.

Whatever she was rubbing on me had a warm, tingly feeling, almost like menthol but without any scent that I could detect. Soon my cock was sso completely engorged with blood that it was almost painful.

“Doesn’t that feel nice?” she asked me.

I nodded, then realizing that she might not be able to see my face under the towel, I moaned a “yes” to encourage her to keep rubbing. Soon I realized that my hips were rising up to meet her firm strokes, and I felt myself making little noises in the back of my throat.

“Such a nice shape,” she mused, “I think that you’re about as hard as I’ve ever seen you.”

I moaned again in agreement… and then in frustration as she took her hand away. She said nothing, but I heard some fumbling with containers, and a few seconds later I felt a sensation around my cock, almost like warm dough. She pushed and squeezed, shaping something around my cock, all the while whispering encouraging words and fondling my balls.

“Try to keep still for a few minutes, okay?” she asked. For emphasis she wrapped her fingers around my balls and gave a firm squeeze. I felt her fingernails trace a path around my stomach and chest, taking care to pinch and tweak my nipples. I bit down on my lip to keep from twisting and moving. After two or three minutes, she released her hold on my balls and I felt her get up from the bed.

“Umm…,” I questioned, but I felt her finger on my lips.

“I’ll be right back,” she promised, and I heard her footsteps across the room. A few minutes and some bathroom noises later, and suddenly I felt a cold wet rag across my stomach.

Hey!” I yelled, “That’s friggin’ cold! Whatthehellareyoudoing?!”

I heard her giggle and she removed the cold cloth, only to wrap it around my swollen balls. I started to bounce up and down, but she pressed her hand to my stomach to keep me from jumping. Moments later, my blood-engorged cock was shriveling up, trying to crawl back into the warmth of my body. The weight of whatever she had on my groin was lifted and apparently she took it into the other room, leaving me to writhe and twist in agonizing frustration.

Dammit!

About five minutes later she came back and began to clean me up with a warm cloth. By that time I had lost all traces of my erection, and I felt her squeezing my cock back into the metal chastity cage. I started to twist and bounce, but she crawled up onto the bed and sat on my stomach to keep me still. A minute later I heard the lock click shut. I grumbled a bit, but she managed to quiet me down when she turned around and positioned herself over my face. She pulled off the towel and guided my head between her legs; she was extremely wet, and she came very quickly several times in a row.

“I don’t know why you’re complaining,” she said as she unfastened the bonds,” I mean, you did agree not to come until I’d given you permission, right?”

I nodded, seething slightly.

“So, what’s the problem? I didn’t give permission and you didn’t come.”

“But what was that stuff you put on me?” I asked.

She shook her head. “It’s a surprise. You’ll find out soon enough,” she replied. “Our anniversary is coming up next month; maybe that would be a good time to let you in on it.”

Next month? It had already been a month since I’d last had an orgasm – would it be another month before I’d be allowed my next one?

…to be continued…


More of my ridiculous attempts at erotica can be found on my Stories page.

What class did you say this was?

Well, here’s something interesting: I received an email today, which read, in part:

I was wondering if I could ask you a couple questions about chastity belts. I am doing a paper for a psychology class on different aspects of chastity belts. If you are interested in helping me out, I would like to thank you in advance for your comments. The paper isn’t due for 2 months, so you have plenty of time to think about your answers. I will not use your name or any personal information if you don’t want me to. You don’t have to answer all the questions if you don’t feel like it. The questions are for wearers and key holders. Both opinions are needed. So if you are the wearer, the key holder could also answer questions.

Okay, that’s… different. I’m trying to figure out what kind of class in which a paper on chastity belts would be acceptable. Abnormal Psychology? While I suspect that this is a request of a somewhat dubious nature, I’ll bite this time. The mail headers indicate that he sent it to several dozen people, names that he seems to have collected off of one of the more well known chastity belt story sites (yes, there are some more well known than this one).

Anyway, here are the questions:

Please answer the personal questions first:

Age: 49

Sex: Not very often, obviously (har har har).

Okay, Male.

Wearer or key holder? Wearer

1. (Both) Do you own a chastity belt? If so, which one(s), and explain a little about them? (Comfort, security, noticeable under street clothes, etc.)

I own a CB3000 and several home built versions. The CB3000 is probably the most popular commonly known of the inexpensive devices, and is of the style known as “trapped ball” devices; that is, it is not a full belt. These devices are generally attached to the scrotum and encase the penis, and are able to be secured with a small padlock.While they are not the most secure devices, they are inexpensive, fairly comfortable for most users, and do not show up under normal street clothes. They can also be modified easily to allow the use of a urinal; other devices require partial disrobing and use of a sit-down toilet.

2. (Wearer) Why do you wear a chastity belt?

Because it is a kink that both my wife and I enjoy. We’ve been able to turn it into a fun, sexy game for the both of us. It doesn’t require much maintenance, nor much in the way of special equipment (apart from the device itself). It’s simply a way to have a little bit of kinky, erotic fun.

3. (Key holders) Why do you lock up your partner in a CB?

She enjoys the idea of “controlling” our sexual activities, and also enjoys creating a sense of extended frustration in me.

4. (Both) What is the longest term of wearing the CB? What changes in attitudes were there, and why do you think there were changes?

There are various ways to answer that question.

The longest we went in orgasm denial was 8-1/2 months. That means that the device was removed once in a while for sex (or a couple of times for repairs).

The longest I went wearing it continuously, i.e., 24-7 without removing it at all, was 4-1/2 months. We stopped because a section holding it together broke under the strain.

I’ve been wearing it on and off – including the periods mentioned above – for just about 3 years.

 

5. (Both) What must the wearer do to “earn” release? (Game, chores, behavior, etc.)

While some people play games of chance (marbles, dice, lotto numbers, etc.) to allow release, and others have some kind of a point system for “earning” a release, we chose not to do anything at all. It’s left totally up to her whim and fancy.

We do have a syntax, though, to make it easier to understand. A “release” to us does not mean my being unlocked, and being unlocked is not a guarantee that I would be allowed an orgasm.

Unlocked means being let out or not wearing the device (or cage). I’m often unlocked for intercourse, and then locked up again.

Orgasm means exactly that – an orgasm, usually via sexual intercourse.

Release means an involuntary ejaculation, usually while I’m still wearing the device. This sometimes happens after several weeks without orgasm or release. It’s not pleasurable, but it does appear to relieve some sexual tension.

6. (Both) Are there any times where there is a “teasing session” during term of wearing?

(Key holder) Why do you do these “teasing sessions”? What do you do?

(Wearer) Why do you think the “teasing sessions” happen? How hard is it to make it through these?

Since this is not a punishment for me, there isn’t any specific teasing. We do have sex frequently, which is naturally very arousing, but it’s not with the intention to tease me along and to deny me an orgasm.

It used to be difficult to do, but I’ve learned to sublimate the arousal into a pleasant afterglow kind of sensation. Surprisingly to some people, I often initiate sex, even though I know I will not be allowed an orgasm.

 

7. (Both) What are your overall thoughts of a chastity belt? (Emotional feelings, physical feelings, regrets, etc.

Overall, it’s been a good, healthy thing for us. It allowed… no, necessitated our becoming more intimate and learning how to talk to each other about wants and desires and needs. Our relationship was suffering form a lack of intimacy, and while the chastity device did not fix things, wearing it facilitated our attempts to create both sexual and emotional intimacy.

 

On my part, I have no regrets, except that I feel like I wasted a year trying to get my stupid frenum piercing to work with the device. I modified the CB3000 several times so it’s comfortable to wear for long periods.

8. (Both) How does the wearer get to “release” when it is time?

If you mean “orgasm,” it’s usually through intercourse.

 

If you have anything that you would like to add, please do so. Don’t hold back.

You might want to read one of my accounts on this, specifically where I discussed the 4-1/2 month situation. Unlike a lot of wank fodder on the ‘net, this is a true account of, well, not how we got started, but how we got deeper into it. You should probably read some of the rest of my stuff on my blog The Edge of Vanilla.

Thank you for taking the time to fill this out. If you would like a copy of the report when it is finished, please let me know, and I will send it to you.

I would love to read it. In fact, if you’d like, I’ll critique it before you submit the paper. Feel free to use my name, and if you need any further information, don’t hesitate to contact me.

 

Okay, hopefully I’m really just helping out some college kid who’s going to surprise the hell out of his Psych prof. Actually, I did something similar a long time ago with a paper on Tantric yoga; I guess it gets tougher and tougher to surprise college teachers now.

Balance & the submissive CEO

This post started out as a comment to the discussion on my last post, specifically the discussion between Toni and Maymay with regard to the stereotyping of corporate CEO types having submissive streaks. It started getting out of control as I put more thought into it, so I sort of gave it a promotion.

This discussion started with the stereotype – played off in the TV show Nip/Tuck – about the high-powered corporate executive who “needs” to find some kind of balance in his life by seeing a highly paid dominatrix.

There is a problem with the discussion about the validity of who sees Dominatrixes – it begs the question that powerful men need some kind of balance in the first place. In fact, the real problem goes deeper, in that we too often “find” the solution to a question and stop looking at the situation anymore because the solution seems so obvious.

Example: To me, it’s obvious that the sun is a little ball of burning gas that goes around the Earth. If my grasp of math and geometry were even less than it is now, you’d have a hard time convincing me otherwise. Likewise, it’s very easy to find the “correct” assumption when dealing with questions of a psycho/sociological nature, but they too often overlook the huge and varied human experience. There’s a reason why “social sciences” are in a separate category from “hard sciences;” it’s very difficult to prove cause and effect, and even more difficult to predict based on behavior.

The issue with the stereotype of the hard-working CEO seeing a Dominatrix is that most of us not being highly paid CEOs, find that it fits in with our own idea of “balance;” which is not necessarily the way that our CEO sees it. In fact, I would go as far as to say that some of these stereotypes are our own creations because, like certain urban legends, we secretly believe that if they aren’t true, well, then they should be – if only for the sake of allowing us to pretend that there is some kind of balance to society or culture.

Kurt Vonnegut, writing in “The Sirens of Titan,” posited that people enjoy the contrast: that is, they don’t care which comes first, the suffering or the reward, the ups or the downs; what people enjoy is the narrative of someone being subjected both extremes. We’re fascinated by the idea of some kind of social balance, and so we make up our stories about people to match our own idea of balance: The deposed king reclaiming his throne, the rich man who gambles his money away, and yes, the high powered CEO who has a need to be tied down and whipped (for his sins of being a high powered CEO, maybe?).

In fact, though, by accepting the assumption that our CEO needs to be whipped and dominated after-hours to make up for his over-exertion of testosterone during the day, it creates a set of belief parameters by which we tend to see other, similar behaviors – which could (and probably will) lead to other wrong or confusing beliefs. Certainly, by accepting the “balance” theory, it leaves unexplained why some people with normal, every-day jobs want to be dominated, spanked, tied down, or to engage in any of the dozens of kinds of behaviors that we associate with BDSM. It also fails to explain the lesser stereotype of aggressive businessmen who continue to act out the Dom role on younger, female subs. And all of this completely misses any kind of explanation for the entire array of the population, in which we find low-energy, low-paid people with a desire for topping or bottoming, or mid-level managers with a desire for bondage, or housewives with a desire to be paddled after the children are asleep.

Of course, the media always has a field day when a “high powered corporate executive” is found to have been consorting with Maitresse du Painne; but frankly, when I see those stories, my first thought is that somebody making ten times my salary could certainly afford the $1,500 per session rates, and more power to him.

Lip/Suck

Over on Maybemaimed, my friend maymay is ranting about the shallowness of some people who use Halloween as a mini-Mardi Gras.

Have at it, May. Me, I’m about to get all bitchyjones about something much bigger.

TV. That is, night-time adult dramas. More specifically, those night time adult dramas that fall all over themselves in trying to attract more jaded viewers by “breaking new ground.”

In the last few years, television shows have attracted viewers with their teasing promises of kinky sex; in the last couple of years alone I can think of a handful that have gone over to use some BDSM theme – mostly that of female domination. CSI & ER come to mind; CSI made one a recurring character, and of course Desperate Housewives built half a season around the concept. Dominatrix characters have made spot appearances in several other shows, and I find that I’m having mixed feelings about this: while I appreciate the eye candy, I’m becoming increasingly irritated by the inane and stereotypical story lines. Tuesday night’s episode of Nip/Tuck was just the latest example.

After being teased for weeks about the appearance of the delicious Tia Carrere as a dominatrix with the ridiculously hackneyed name of “Mistress Dark Pain” in the new season’s first episode, what the viewers were treated to was a few scenes with Ms. Carrere dressed in normal business clothes, and a scene with her dressed in black (the traditional dominatrix color, you know) lacy things that could easily be found in the back of a Victoria’s Secret shop. Her dialog was right out of femdom wanker porn, and one scene in which she casually dropped off a sub/bottom who was in need of medical attention simply validated the undeserved impression that the general public has come to believe about people who need “that kind of thing.”

Naturally, this particular sub was a high-powered executive – the head of a media production company – who needed to be dominated as a form of therapy because his job required him to be totally in control. A session with Mistress Dark Pain gave him release from his daily need to be in charge.

Oh for fuck’s sake! We all know that the reason why anyone is submissive is because they have a high-powered job as an oil, manufacturing, or finance magnate, right? It’s all that whatchacallit – compensation, you know?

It goes without saying that Christian – the smarmy good-looking one – was intrigued by Ms. Pain, and Sean – the prissy weenie – was totally put off by the entire thing (somehow he learned nothing after the last 5 seasons) and used words like “sick”, “perverted” or “sicko” when discussing the topic.

Nice.

Thanks, Nip/Tuck, for being even more stereotypical than “One Night at McCool’s” and even less helpful than “Desperate Housewives.”

I’m trying to imagine a tv show or a movie that shows, for example, a male bottom who is smart, funny, strong-willed, and who works at a regular old job. One who isn’t a CEO for some multi-national conglomerate, and who does not keep a dominatrix-slash-mistress in a Manhattan penthouse. And maybe, just maybe, he can be paired up with a regular woman who enjoys spanking or even knife play, but who isn’t a deranged psychotic bitch or who is completely indifferent to his emotional needs, or who dumps the guy as soon as he stops paying her car loan.

Naw. Never mind. That kind of scenario would be way too fantastic for most people to believe.

Hair today…

Okay, partly as a result of the anonymous comments about my piercing and buff pics, I’m about I’m about to go all bitchyjones on some of you people.

But first, I’m going to get esoteric for a moment.

Symbols are important to us because they help to transmit ideas in a language that’s easy to understand. Assuming, of course, that we’re all in agreement of what those symbols actually mean. Some symbols have agreement simply because they have been in use for so long: a red octagon, or a red circle with a diagonal line through it are obvious examples. Clothing can express ideas in symbolic terms; when you see a movie with women dressed in short, tight skirts that are fifteen years out of fashion, you understand that the director means for them to be prostitutes – and let’s not forget that we see such visuals in “the red light district” of a city.

Other symbols might be short, bobbed haircuts on middle-aged women that scream “soccer mom” (or in my neighborhood, “midget football mom”). Men at the beach wearing skimpy Speedos are assumed to be either foreign or gay. When I see people in their mid-20s wearing collars, I wonder if they are sporting the conventional symbol of ownership. And I’m often reminded of the old Dave Berg cartoon in Mad Magazine in which he compared the “uniform” of ROTC students with the “uniform” of the campus hippies.

But sometimes we ascribe far too much to symbols; there are no “inherent” meanings in any of them, merely the ones that we ascribe to them by common use or convention. Sometimes our assumptions say more about us than it does about the symbol.

For those who noticed my piercing pictures, yes, I shave. That is, I shave my genital area.

I’ve been shaving that area for the past 30 years, more or less – about the same time that I started receiving regular oral sex. It’s comfortable for me, and it’s convenient for my partner. I happen to like the smooth feel, and since I often go “commando” during the warmer weather, it keeps hair from getting caught in buttons and zippers. And when I began wearing a chastity device regularly, shaving became necessary to prevent the little gasps! during the day as a few stray hairs would snag and pull. And Mrs. Edge happens to like the feel of it.

Shaving. Comfort and convenience. It’s that simple.

Shaving is not an inherently submissive act, nor does it have anything to do with distinguishing submissive males.

Yes, I did have a reason for bringing this up, thank you for asking. Just as I mentioned a little while ago there was a discussion on one of the groups about the concept of domination & submission vis a vis chastity and orgasm denial, I’ve also had the dubious pleasure of having to defend the practice of genital shaving from those who would seek to ascribe to it some kind of mark of submission or ownership. Some of the reasoning for doing so in these groups defies my understanding. One of the more egregious examples was a person who claimed that genital shaving “reduced a person to his pre-pubescent state,” which was especially fitting because, being locked in a chastity device rendered one’s genitals useless, just as they were before puberty.

How’s that again? Shaving is supposed to remind me of my submissive status because everybody knows that subs or slaves don’t get to have sex with their partners/owners.

Beej? Did you get all that?

I’m irritated because this is yet one more example of a small group in the already-small fetish sub-culture co-opting yet one more thing to make the rest of us look like out-of-control juveniles who can barely think with our dicks. I’m so tired of reading about the feminized, sissy subs who are forced to shave and wear frilly panties to show their submissive status while some big, hairy stud has sex with their wives – not that I want to read them, mind you, but lately it seems that they’ve taken over the chastity and orgasm denial groups.

And while I’m on a rant here, I just spotted a conversation in which a woman was asking for advice about having her husband (who is in a chastity device) become more adept at using a strap-on to give her pleasure. Somebody who must not actually have ever had a relationship put in his two cents: “You should cuckold him with another man or a male slave.”

How the hell does anyone miss the point that widely and still manage to feed themselves on a daily basis?

Look, all I want to do is make my cock and balls feel smooth, without anyone ascribing some kind of significance to it. I want to wear a chastity device simply because Mrs. Edge and I find it arousing, and not because either of us have any desire to bring more people into our relationship, let alone in order to make me feel humiliated or unworthy.

*inhales*

*holds*

*exhales*

I really didn’t mean to get all bitchyjones about this, but sometimes you’ve just got to let it out.