Those of you familiar with the happenings of the northeastern US probably know that we had an unseasonal Nor’easter – a storm that dumped a foot or more of snow around southern New England, and knocked out power in 2/3 of Connecticut for days – in some cases, for over a week. The Edge household was without power, phone, or even cell service for most of that time, which led to a case of cabin fever. Naturally, when we got power back, we tackled the important things: making sure the internet connection was back up and running. Oh yeah, and something about the furnace and hot water might have figured in there, too.
Anyway, having developed a Tumblr addiction, it was nice to see what had been being reposted in the kinky sectors. I spent a
few hours couple of minutes browsing around and found this captioned picture on the Locked in Chastity Tumblog. I was struck by the rather profound insight that often gets overlooked when one reads chastity related fiction, or indeed, even the chastity related blogs that spring up. Most of the time we’re hearing about how the denial affects the man who asks to be denied, but we rarely hear about how it affects his partner.
Let me qualify that. We often hear about how the Missus loves it because she gets backrubs, pedicures, and the the laundry done. Yeah, no duh; I mean, I’d love to get daily massages, myself, and if somebody would wash and iron my socks every week then that would be one less thing for me to worry about.
But I’m talking about the more intimate and emotional aspects of chastity and denial. I’d venture that most married people are having a pretty decent (fsv of) amount of sex every week, so men who ask to play out some kind of long-term chastity fantasy are also denying their partners something to some degree. Is PIV sex important to all women? Of course not, but at the same time it’s presumptuous for men to simply assume that they can replace intercourse with oral sex and backrubs – which seems to be the (ahem) dominant theme behind much of the “enforced” chastity paradigm (Paradigm? Did I really use that word outside of a graduate class?).
Some years ago when Mrs. Edge and I started messing with chastity and denial, we would go week to week. That is, she kept me locked up for a week, would let me out for some intercourse (no orgasm for me, of course), and then lock me back up. And that’s how it went for some time, until we got the strapon harness and a really lifelike dildo. We tried it out a few times, but at the end of the week, she unlocked me. And again, the next week. And the next.
But there came a time when she skipped the weekly unlocking, and asked me to use the new toy, instead. I ended up being locked up for two straight weeks. And the next time it was three weeks. And the next time it was a month. And then it was six or seven weeks.
While this was happening, I suspected that she was testing the waters, but was hesitant to ask her directly because I didn’t want to spoil the mood. Our agreement was that she could play as long as she wanted, and if I were uncomfortable, I would mention it to her. But that was okay, because I was experimenting myself — for a while I was looking forward to the weekly unlocking, even though I wasn’t coming. How well would I handle going without even that little bit of pleasure for longer periods? Would I eventually get jealous of the silicone? Would I give in and beg?
When it hit seven weeks without allowing me out, I finally asked her what she had in mind. “I’m just experimenting,” she told me. She enjoys — actually, prefers — intercourse to oral, so she wondered how long she could “make do” with the dildo, which we began to call “her” cock. She, herself, had been enjoying the weekly unlockings, but after seeing how lifelike the new toy was, and how well I could position it, it began to seem less challenging to her. After going for a two or three weeks, she realized something else: I didn’t have to pace myself for her pleasure the way I had to do when she unlocked me. If she wanted something a little more vigorous, or to extend it a bit longer, she could do so without my asking to take a breather. She found the idea that she could replace my cock with “her” own to be an unexpected turn on.
By the time that she made me go for a month straight, she began to feel comfortable with using it frequently, and comfortable that I wasn’t being somehow damaged, anxious, or upset. By that point, it didn’t feel so much as a second-best replacement; the couple of extra minutes for me to put on the harness and adjust “her” cock was now simply a natural part of our lovemaking.
Once she stopped worrying about how I was holding up, she found that she wanted to try something else: she wanted to go for longer periods simply to see if I would get frustrated enough to quit. Not in a cruel or mean way, rather that she was discovering her own limits, and in so doing, wondered where my limits (or lack of them) might be. Eventually, she wondered if she would feel comfortable enough not unlocking me at all, and indeed, she even began leaving her key at work so she wouldn’t be tempted to use it. After several years of this, she stopped experimenting with limits, and we simply played for random time periods, always set by her.
So, again, I just want to take a moment to point out to the men who are interested in “enforced” chastity (or really, any other similar activity), that your partner needs time to experiment, to find her own limits of comfort — both with the relationship and with herself. Try to take s step back from your own excitement to give her what she needs.