So I had this amazingly stupid idea that was also AMAZINGLY AMAZING

Well, a couple of reasons.  First of all, confinement is hot.  It’s just way fucking ridiculously hot to be confined by your lover.  I’ve experimented with various other forms of bondage (does it really count as an experiment, though, if the only conclusion you draw is that it spikes your jock?), but this one seemed to me the most primal, the most basic.  Is there any form of control more intimate and more direct than control over your actual sexual organs?  If you like being tied up, disempowered, divested of control, is there anything else quite so elegant and effective and illustrative?

Second of all, I’ve fantasized about it forever.  Simple as that.  The notion of a beautiful woman holding the key to my sexual freedom is just pure porn.

Third of all, honestly, I’ve been struggling with how best to focus and direct my submissive energies.  Rosebud and I only came to this arrangement relatively late in our relationship, despite knowing of and sharing these urges.  I’m turning 32 this year, and I was genuinely worried that I’d entered the Old Dog phase (not the movie with John Travolta and Robin Williams, that’s Old Dogs and it should never be spoken of), past the very possibility of learning new tricks.

Confronting failure in your 30s, whether it’s professional, personal, psychological or sexual is frightening.  All men fear failure, because failure is humiliating and indicative of a certain impotence, whether literal or figurative.  We’re not all Masters of the Universe, of course, but that isn’t the point.  My brother, a massively successful chef, is not “famous” per se, but he makes a tremendous living, supports a wife and child, is recognized by his peers as a genius and is in demand the world over for his artistry.  You may never have heard his name.  He told me, when I said that success in my field demanded a certain fame, “Fame isn’t success.  If you’re making a living doing what you love, then that’s success.  Don’t get the two scrambled or you’ll drive yourself crazy.”

I’m doing rather well in my chosen field and I think my growth as a human, as an artist, as a man has been one of my happiest successes.  Still, I was having trouble finding the right expression for my submissive urges.  It’s all very well and good to fantasize, to play for fun even, but to make submission a serious part of your life is fucking difficult.  Largely because life isn’t porn (though mine does come wonderfully close at times).  Also because, well, I’m selfish.  And there’s a part of most men that feels entitled to what they want when they want it.  It’s exactly what I’ve spent my life raging against, an attitude grown in a system that is essentially misogynous, but one must be honest with one’s self.  I can be a huge brat, and I can be sulky when I don’t get to indulge myself to a proper degree.

Not very subby of me.

After months of attempting this D and S framework, I was floundering, and I was grinding my brain to bits at my own failure.  Why couldn’t I just get over myself and SERVE?

I don’t know why it didn’t occur to me before now.

Before we go on, I know this has been a considerably more humorous blog prior to this, and more concerned with the technicalities of intimacy than with its emotional goings-on.  Here’s where I would usually put a HILARIOUS picture and caption to let you know that really, this is all a tap dance meant to amuse you.

Anyway, back to vulnerability and the possibility of losing readers.

We’d spoken of chastity before, I owned a CB6000 (for the layman, a remarkably well-put-

together plastic chastity device that is easily hidden under normal clothes), and the only thing keeping me from actually going through with it was, well, cowardice.

Fuck cowardice.  Fuck it in its puckered, trembling rabbit anus.

I’ve had it on for 3 days now, and the results have been fairly astonishing.  Most immediately, there’s the rekindling of a “we just met a couple nights ago and NEED TO BONE” variety of lust.  There’s also the fact that Rosebud finds the device unspeakably hot.  She likes to knock on it.  She likes to kiss it.  She likes to blow on it.

And this is where the awesomeness of it intermingles with ASTONISHING AGONY.  I’m basically turned on all the time.  ALL OF THE TIME.  I want sex now to the power of fucking seriously in a way that I haven’t since I first discovered that getting drunk and saying something clever would get me laid.  I’ve always had a pretty healthy sex drive, but nothing speeds restoration like deprivation.  As you may have guessed, a hard wang, unless it’s comically tiny, will not fit comfortably in a CB6000.  I’m no Liam Neeson but  I get by, and I’m trapped in this feedback cycle that goes something like this:

I want to fuck, but I’m locked up.

Wait, that’s hot!  Getting an erection.

NO, WAIT!  CAGE TOO SMALL!

But that kind of bondage is ALSO HOT!

Please ice my balls and shoot me in the face.

Wait, don’t stop!  WHY WOULD YOU STOP?!

I was going to write a haiku, but I couldn’t figure out how to work in a mention of the season.  That’s technically what you’re supposed to do.

But here’s the part that’s wonderful: I’m considerably more positive these days.  I’ve been eager to help around the house, obliging with Rosebud’s needs and getting better at all the basics.  I view the opportunity to serve and please her as a privilege.  My attitude is as sunny as can be.  I’m not behaving well to convince her to let me out, I’m kind of just…enjoying behaving well.  This is exactly the kind of Good Samaritan shit that I was supposed to learn as a kid.  I’m kind of trying to court her again.

So what do we know?

1. Bondage is awesome.

2. My wife has a sexy mouth.

3. Chastity reframes the male sexual urge into something resembling old fashioned courtship.

4. My cock is too big.

5. I didn’t mention this, but sleeping in it is difficult.

6. Watching Sucker Punch in my CB6000 was FUCKING NIGHTMARISH.

Anyway…there will be more on this subject to come, hopefully more humorous and less…well…no, fuck it, no apologies.  This is my blog and you can read it or not.

Any comments, suggestions, pertinent personal reminiscences are welcome.

Okay, here’s a sexy picture.

Talk to me.