Exploring new territory – 2

I mentioned a while back that I did something that I’m always cautioning other men around here not to do: take a full blown fantasy scenario and dump it on your unsuspecting partner, and then expect something good to happen with it.

The Reader’s Digest version is this: a year or two ago, Mrs. Edge was off for a few weeks visiting family, leaving me by my lonesome. We had been moving away from the chastity device into permission-based orgasm control (which, in my case, meant “not any”), and with it, had put some tentative tendrils into something resembling a female-led relationship, although it probably looked more like a mistress/servant type of thing. Over the course of doing my yard work, shopping, cleaning, and spending my time alone, I began to form some fantasy scenarios to keep me occupied, and without the opportunity to discuss them with her, they sort of… took off in a direction I hadn’t given much thought to.

When she finally got back and we’d had some time to settle in, she asked what was making me so antsy. I explained that I had this idea that we could have a weekly “performance review” evening, at which we could have a nice dinner — cooked by me, of course — after which we could settle in the drawing room on the family room sofa with a glass of wine (opened and poured by me), where she could go over how well I looked after her the previous week and note my shortcomings, after which I would be given some strokes with a riding crop or cane; some for punishment, and some strictly for maintenance. After which, I’d vow to do better, and we’d have some fun the next week.

Okay, seriously: I’m actually embarrassed to admit that this happened.

I mean, this totally came out of nowhere, so she wasn’t expecting anything like this at all.

And yes, it came out of nowhere for me, too. One day I was just mowing the lawn, and the next day I had some kind of tingle just thinking about it. But the instructive point here was that I had the better part of a month to let it percolate in my head; Mrs. Edge had never heard me ask for a spanking, let alone a punishment, performance review, or anything else. Again, I had been thinking about them, and building things up in my head, so what she heard was an almost-finished project that had no input from her.

This is often the case with guys who harbor domination fantasies for years, except that it often goes badly for them when their wife — who may have been much less disposed to anything not vanilla — just flat out rejects their ideas entirely.

In my case, Mrs. Edge was willing to listen; in part because we’d already spent some time in the past discussing how to best approach some of these ideas, and in part because I presented them as a fun, no-pressure version of a kinky date night. Her reaction wasn’t negative, but it was certainly guarded. We talked about how things would work, she asked a few questions, and a couple of weeks later we stopped by a local “adult emporium” and picked up an inexpensive riding crop. Why a crop over a paddle? She thought that a paddle seemed too much like Catholic School, and that a crop was more elegant, even if a bit stereotypically dominatrixy.

So, what happened? When we got home, she gave me a couple of whacks with the crop before bed, and then we put it in the drawer.

Where it stayed untouched.

The “performance review” nights turned into date nights, for which we made a rule for ourselves not to talk about our kids or our parents (readers of a certain age will understand what I mean here). It was nice to go out once a week, have a burger and a glass of wine and relax, but as the weeks, and then months passed, I found myself becoming frustrated. In the past, I’ve had to learn how to be conscious of not being too pushy for something that I wanted, but I’ve also learned that Mrs. Edge will often just not bring it up, hoping that I’ll forget about it. I brought the topic up again, and she seemed interested, and professed that she wanted to try it… but that didn’t go anywhere, either.

Does this sound familiar to anybody?

From the various blogs that I’ve seen come and go over the years, this is a pretty typical scene. I’m bringing this up because, despite the fact that Mrs. Edge and I actually have a pretty good relationship, we are still prone to the same kinds of frustrations and disagreements over expectations; especially expectations that are not communicated clearly or with the opportunity for input from both sides.

I won’t bore you with the mis-communications that we had over this during the next several months. Once in a while, I’d ask “Remember that thing I asked you about last summer? Are you still interested?” She would usually respond positively, and then… that would be it until the next time I asked.

In situations like this, it’s easy to blame the guy for being pushy, but that misses the bigger picture. Since it’s within a relationship, that means that there are two people who aren’t working together. Yes, the guy can be pushy or topping from the bottom, but if he isn’t getting good feedback from his partner, then he’s not going to know enough to change his approach. Fortunately, neither Mrs. Edge nor I are stupid. I took some time to step back and really think about what I had asked of her: in my mind, I was asking for a scene. But in her mind, I already had something scripted that she wasn’t on board with. So, I stripped it down to the basics, that is, what I was really hoping to gain from it, and asked her again.

“What if I were to ask you not for anything complicated, but something simple:  For two months, once a week, at a time of your choosing, I’d like you to hit me with the crop, say, a dozen to a dozen and a half strokes. This isn’t a sexual thing, it doesn’t have to be a particular day. Tuesday after dinner. Thursday before bed. Saturday morning. Any time you feel up to it.”

I then added, “There’s no leather involved, no role playing, you wouldn’t need to get dressed up — not that I’d mind — you could even stay in your pajamas. We don’t have to turn it into a scene. Just five minutes, and we’re done.”

Now that she didn’t see a script involved, she was more intrigued. “Isn’t that going to hurt? What’s in it for you?”

“Yes, I expect it to hurt — that’s kind of the idea. I’d like to experience what it’s like to be punished, or more correctly, to have some control removed. Like an indentured servant or something. I’d have no say in when you would do it, or any say in how many strokes.”

And I could see the wheels turning; it was no longer my idea, she would have plenty of say in how things went together.

“Are you sure you’d want a dozen whacks? You’re going to be begging me to stop.”

“Well, I know that I could take six or eight. Once we get past ten, I’d probably be out of my comfort zone. Since the idea is for me to be pushed past that zone, to do something I really don’t want to be doing, a dozen or more seemed like a good number. I gave you a top end in case you started feeling uncomfortable about it.”

“And is that why you said ‘two months’?”

She was giving this some actual thought now, which is good.

“That’s right. I figured I could handle a few times, but eight or nine weeks in a row is, again, pushing beyond my comfort zone. Plus, if you’re really not enjoying it, there’s an end in sight.”

“And this doesn’t have to be a date night thing? You won’t care if I give you a few whacks in the morning before work?”

I mentally winced at the idea of sitting on my office chair with a welted ass. “Yes, I might care, but that’s not the point. What I’m asking you for is for you to do this whether I want it or not.”

Mrs. Edge thought about this for a few minutes, and decided that it was something that she could live with. We had taken any odd or constricting factors out, and left the important sections up to her.

“What if you get mad at me for spanking you?”

“Oh, I’ll probably be upset in the moment, but what I’m expecting is that when I think about it later, It will make me all aroused and hot for you.”

She laughed at that. “It doesn’t take much to get you all aroused, but I do like it when you’re aroused for me.”

Suddenly she smiled at some inner thought.

“What’s that about?” I asked.

“Well, what if we get to eight weeks, and I decide that I want to continue?” she asked, slyly.

For those of you who don’t recognize what’s going on, this is what negotiation looks like in a relationship. It doesn’t necessarily mean compromise, but it does mean that everyone gets a say in how it’s going to work. It doesn’t mean that you will get everything that you want, but it certainly improves your chances for getting something that you want — which you weren’t getting without negotiation, anyway.



Although sometimes we have different ideas of what “negotiating” means…

Lies, damn lies, and statistics

Regarding the recent news article about frequent orgasms helping to prevent prostate cancer, here’s an interesting article about health & science news that popped up on IO9 today:

I Fooled Millions Into Thinking Chocolate Helps Weight Loss. Here’s How.

The article itself details the Nutrition Science version of the Sokal Hoax, and I really can’t give it a good summary – just click the link and go read it.

But the take-away is this: Science journalism is much like any other kinds of journalism in that writers don’t fully understand the topic, and often draw the wrong conclusions based only on the press release and a quick skim of the material (if that). Then editors will throw a click-bait headline on it, and the entire thing is geared to sell ad space.

So, let’s remember to use some common sense, and to not believe the first thing that we read. This goes for science news as much as it goes for all those “true stories” on the BDSM blogs.

Well, except for this, of course. I came home from work one day and Mrs. Edge had totally converted into my dream/nightmare Domme. No, really.  This totally happened.

An orgasm a day…

I know that most of you come here looking for stories or information on *not* orgasming, but here’s something that popped up on the news feed recently:

Men who orgasm every day ‘have lower risk of prostate cancer’

Stories like this appear once in a while, but this time apparently someone was able to put a number to it. Ready?

Study finds men who ejaculate 21 times a month lower their risk of the disease by a fifth

Okay, that’s worth looking into.

A study has revealed that those men who ejaculate more often during their lifetime have a 22% lower risk of getting the disease.

The study doesn’t give any reasons why the practice of ejaculation may help to stave off prostate cancer, but there are theories which have been made public previously.

Oh, wait. I thought that we were going to have something a little more concrete than we usually see. But all is not lost:

The largest research to date on ejaculation followed almost 32,000 men in good health for 18 years.

Of the number, 3,839 later developed prostate cancer – but the figures showed that in the 40-49 bracket, men who ejaculated more than 21 times a month had a 22% lower risk of developing the disease.

Results were adjusted to take in other possibly contributing factors such as diet and lifestyle.

So, it looks like once you hit your 40s, you have to make orgasms a job: Once a day, Monday through Friday, and weekends off. That hits the 20+ mark on most months. Hell, when I was a younger lad, 21 was probably a minimum number for me.

You can read up on the rest of the article at The Mirror. I was hoping that they would have a link to the actual study, since Mrs. Edge is away this week and I’ve been trying to make up for lost time. For some  reason I’m feeling a bit lethargic this afternoon, and I’m too lazy right now to hunt it down myself.

See, I, personally don’t have any problem with this “21 orgasms per month” program. In fact, I kind of like that number. Unfortunately, Mrs. Edge seems to have other ideas, and won’t be as easily swayed.


Pleasantly surprised

First of all, I want to thank everyone who commented and emailed to me their concerns about the apparent change in the relationship between the “vanilla” Mrs. Edge and I.

Yes, that post was one of my annual April pranks. I apologize to those of you who forgot that I usually put up something odd, and took this seriously.

That said, I was surprised – very pleasantly so – at how many people expressed concern that we were slipping into an abusive relationship. It’s interesting that I took a typical “be careful what you wish for” femdom trope and removed all the overt sex, only to have it look like a “50 Shades” variation.

To be honest, I had expected that a lot of the comments were going to be along the lines of “Oh, you lucky man,” or “I wish my wife would take charge like that,” or something like that. The fact that they were concerned and supportive tells me that I must have some of the best readers on the planet, or (and?) that some of the old ideas about BDSM or D/S relationships have finally begun to be replaced by more informed and intelligent thinking. So, if that describes you, kudos!

And to those of you who were hoping that this was true, I’m sorry to disappoint you, but Mrs. Edge remains (at least, in her own mind) resolutely vanilla. Why, even the new riding crop that she picked out is definitely more functional than showy, and certainly won’t fit tucked inside her calf boots.


And as to the punishments? I think I deserve to have Lady Asmondena show Mrs. Edge how to use that new cane. What do you think?

Following a new path

It’s hard to believe that The Edge of Vanilla as a blog is going on nine years, after my having spent several years on various online groups (most of which no longer even exist), and that Mrs. Edge and I started our chastity journey several years even before that. Fifteen years of “enforced” chastity and denial has been alternately a fun and frustrating ride, through some high and low points in our marriage, and into some areas of growth for the both of us.

I know that this blog has departed from the personal stories and insights into the odd bits of humor and interesting sex news, but that’s because I really haven’t quite been able to process the recent changes in our relationship. Not that things haven’t been good; for the most part, they have been. Rather, things are just… somehow different in a way that I hadn’t begun to appreciate until very recently.

A decade and a half is a lot of time for self discovery, and both Mrs. Edge and I have changed a bit during that time. We’ve gone from longer and longer term lockups for me, to abandoning the devices in favor of self-control (or more correctly, my giving over to her control); after which she experimented a few times with ruined orgasms, but eventually preferred to just deny me, in essence, permanently; a situation which I’ve accepted because it’s really what I’d asked for — not specifically, of course, but rather as a circumstance extending from asking for her control over me in the first place.

But it’s the way that our lives outside of the bedroom have come to merge with our play inside the bedroom that has now had the greatest impact on our marriage, and by extension, the future (if there is one) of this blog.

I’ve written about how Mrs. Edge has been very involved with the church, but usually from the volunteer aspects of running the various dinners and social functions that are the lifeblood of a large church in the suburbs. But in recent years she has become more religious-oriented, and in the course of attending a lot of women’s groups, women’s retreats, and assorted classes, she has developed a new conception of marriage and relationships — in part because of her accepting control of my sexuality — that has given her the mindset that she has a moral obligation to take control outside the bedroom as well.

There’s an irony in that her becoming more deeply involved in this aspect of Christianity has made her both less inclined to be sexual in general, let alone kinky, while at the same time her attitudes (and actions) have become more, well, femdommish — although I wouldn’t dare mention this to her because she has declared that she is moving away from such things. Indeed, Mrs. Edge has always claimed to be straight vanilla, and has never wavered from her position that our use of chastity devices or orgasm control has been anything but “normal” sex. That attitude hasn’t changed much, except that she now thinks that devices are unnecessary because a well-trained husband (meaning me) should no longer need them, and that any accidents or loss of control on my part (intentionally or otherwise) should be dealt with swiftly so they don’t become a habit. Consequently, over the last few months she has asked me to discard the small handful of toys that we’ve acquired over the years.

Because I’ve already been accustomed to long-term denial, I’m not overly concerned about her continuing to expect control over my orgasms; after a decade and a half of this lifestyle, it’s become second nature to me, and it’s rare that I even expect to come during our lovemaking — which of late has become more typically my performing oral on her until she’s satisfied and sleepy. It’s funny, but for most of our marriage, she didn’t particularly care about my going down on her. I mean, she enjoyed it when I did, but it wasn’t something she ever requested. This past year, though, it’s become a requirement several nights a week, usually at bedtime, after which I spoon her until she falls asleep.

For a while now she has been referring to this as “worshipping at her temple,” a euphemism that she picked up in one of her women’s groups. Occasionally, I’ll be working on something in the office and she’ll just walk into the room and announce that “It’s time for worship services,” and I’m expected to drop everything and attend her needs. Once satisfied, she thanks me lovingly and sends me back to whatever I happened to be doing.

There’s no expectation of intercourse; that’s reserved for the evening, and only before bedtime. I enjoy it just as much as ever, even without coming, which, as you can imagine, can be sometimes difficult. I’ve learned to hold back because I’m now required to “clean up after any accidents.” Yeah, the idea sounds pretty hot in all the chastity erotica, but trust me: the reality is very different, and even after a few months I’m no happier about doing it. Worse, I’m beginning to suspect that Mrs. Edge sometimes, well, intentionally provokes those accidents, for reasons I still can’t understand.

The biggest change in our relationship, though, is that her readings and women’s group sessions have led to her insistence that she, as the spiritual head of the household, has an obligation to set a course for us as a couple — and that obligation carries the requirement that she needs to  “continually correct the course” (as she has put it several times) when it deviates. Not that it deviates often, but when it does, for some reason it always seems to end up back on me.

Credit card is overspent? That’s on me for not calling her attention to beforehand. Cautioning her on her spending? I’m overstepping my boundaries and not giving her enough credit for being financially savvy. If I come home a little late from work? I should have called to let her know I was working late. If I call to let her know I’m working a bit late? I shouldn’t have woken her from her afternoon nap. I cleaned the bathroom on Sunday? I should have done it Saturday when she was out shopping so she wouldn’t have to smell the cleaning products. Clean it when she’s out shopping? I should have been… you know, I still haven’t figured out what made her upset that time.

Interestingly, she hasn’t insisted that I go to church more often.  In fact, she often skips Sunday services, herself, although she rarely misses the several Christian women’s group meetings each week — after which she usually comes home affectionate, if pensive. Dinner the next day is when she generally talks to me about things, including the need for the occasional “course correction.”

Those “corrections” originally felt like a bit of kinky play; you know, like “funishment.” Not that Mrs. Edge considered any of it be kinky, mind you, because she simply does not identify that way, and would be a little offended if you suggested it. Over the last few months, however, they have taken on a more serious edge; we no longer seem to “play” with it, but rather, she has become more determined to “correct” those little issues. What I mean is that she has taken it on as a serious duty because (as she insists) it will only serve to strengthen our marriage. Just before Christmas, she told me to go online shopping in order to replace our “toy” riding crop (an anniversary gag gift from a friend of hers) with a more “professional” model that would hold up better under actual use.

In fact, Mrs. Edge has recently taken to insisting that I need regular “reminders,” as she calls them, because there’s little to “correct” anymore.  Those reminder sessions seem to be shortly after those Christian women’s group meetings, too. And what with the Women’s Spiritual Reflection group, the Christian Women’s Reading group, the Women’s Godly Journey group, the Christianity and the Modern Woman group, the Women’s Christian Leadership group, and the Discover Your Goddess Inside group, she’s out at least a couple of nights a week. I’m being “reminded” quite a bit lately.

The “course correction” and “reminder” sessions are, as I mentioned, usually the day after one of her many Christian women’s group meetings, typically right after I get home from work. She greets me, always affectionately, and gives me a few minutes to unwind. Then she kisses me lovingly, and gives me a rundown of the things that she believes need some correction or (more typically) a “gentle reminder.” She then directs me to the bedroom where I’m to strip down, bend over grasping the footboard, and to “think about things” while I wait for her. After a few minutes, she comes in, reassures me that she loves me, and that this is all for the good of our marriage. And then she begins “correcting” or “reminding” me. There’s no rhyme or reason as to how long she corrects me; she prays out loud as she does this, and finishes when the prayer ends. Once finished, she kisses me, and tells me to take a shower while she finishes cooking dinner. After dinner, we snuggle on the couch watching some TV, during which she’s always very affectionate. Interestingly, correction and reminder nights are usually when she requests that I “worship at her temple” before bedtime.

And that brings me back around to what I mentioned earlier, about the future of this blog.

Easter is coming, and that represents a spiritual rebirth for Christians. Mrs. Edge has stepped up the corrections and the reminders this past week, and over the weekend we had a few long talk about what she sees for the future of our marriage. I can’t say that I’m completely surprised, nor can I say that it’s unwelcome. Yes, there are some aspects that have me a little apprehensive, but she explained that it’s to be expected. She has been reassuring me that she loves me more than ever, of course, even as her demeanor has become more firm. I have no doubt of this, for some reason; in fact, in many respects it feels as if our relationship has become stronger, and more intimate. The closeness has made the corrections and reminders worth it.

So, I guess I have to give some thanks to the Church for helping us to strengthen our marriage, even though it’s not what I would have imagined fifteen years ago. I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to continue writing, as Mrs. Edge has become a little hesitant about me writing online, and hanging out in the various online sex forums. She no longer considers it to be proper behavior for a Christian husband, and is concerned that those “weird sex perverts” might give me improper ideas.

I certainly don’t want it to be a point of “correction” in the future, if you know what I mean.