Exploring Orgasm Denial

It fits. Erectile pain will be fine (desired) but mere irritation won’t be. That would leave me irritated, which is hardly the goal. And I need to check this device against the similar penis cage that we got some months back. (This seems to allow easier insertion but nothing is better than the empirical approach.)

You may be thinking: that is easily escaped. I won’t deny that my imagination is stirred by the image of an implacable metal container. Maybe later. The device is as much a symbol as anything. My word of honor should bind me. Not that I don’t feel a little envy for the latest developments in aspirant’s life.

Quick summary for new readers: my first impressions of enforced (the force being her wish) chastity were strongly negative.I had to rid my mind of much sexist clutter that is often associated with orgasm denial play. If you really want to understand my initial responses read the Chastity Archives.

Eventually thanks to people who do this with a committed partner I became able to grasp much of the power of penis confinement and orgasm denial. I made a short-lived stab at it but our relationship really wasn’t ready for the experience at the time.

As I’ll explain later penis confinement tends to focus my imagination more than just chastity and denial: of course it isn’t so neatly subdivided.

Understanding instructs empathy and with me it led to desire. (Alexandra, I don’t think I ever told you this but you know that I make a vice of fearing to be a pest.) A locked cock went from seeming an absurdity to a fervent fantasy. I entertained the most clichéd images of an aloof beautiful woman whose only interest in me was mocking my never to be fulfilled desire of her body. (Which for reasons I can’t grasp - and blush to admit - tended to focus on lingerie model Alley Baggett.)

Naturally I fantasized the extreme of permanent orgasm denial. Or being told I’d be allowed on only when I became a completely pleasing slave. Or only on my birthday. Any man who has come to grasp this kind of surrender probably goes down the same imaginary path.

The bound phallus seem to embody so many things: servile need, bondage, suffering, humiliation: the last in being reduced to a creature defined by frustrated lust. Becoming an object in a way through my own objectification of another.

Penis confinement: even though D/s does not pervade our relationship I’ve often wished I could have some mark that says I’m hers. A token of Alexandra’s ownership. What could be a clearer proof of my hidden role as her property than the binding of my sexuality?

But I’m not always Alexandra’s plaything. We need to be wary of our boundaries.

Then came the day she casually expressed an interest in keeping me chaste. Honestly, my heart leapt to my throat. Once again she was willing to take something I’d longed to offer. D/s isn’t required to appreciate the epiphany of a complementary desire on the part of the beloved.

As with the beginning of many journeys there’s no way to know where it will lead. Perhaps we’ll decide it isn’t worth the effort or the right path for us.

One of my fears, and this may seem odd, is that if told “No” I’ll simply accept it. That is in being denied sexual expression I’ll stop wanting it. My sexuality is complaisant and adaptable. Without frustration I’m not sure either of us would feel fulfilled. But I’m excited by Alexandra’s person as well as her persona.

More experienced men have said the only danger is if the loved one loses interest in you. I can’t imagine Alexandra’s passionate nature diminishing. Indeed knowing that my pleasure in her skin and scent has new power over me may heighten it.

She’ll touch me; I’ll kiss her. My body will try to respond only to find itself forbidden by bands of metal.

What am I hoping to achieve in losing the freedom to manipulate my penis at will?

While she’s been away I’ve learned how yearning for her nearness makes me alive to my submissiveness. It does hurt but often sweetly. Each pang refreshes in my mind how lovely it can be to crawl to her. My head bowed waiting for the reward of her touch.

While I know that a large part of me must always remain independent and free there’s also a the desire to more freely offer my surrender to the degree that she wishes to have it. I’m too realistic to think that penis imprisonment will knock me into 24/7 slavishness. (Which we wouldn’t want.) But it may enable me to tap into it more readily. This may not even be a form of play we’ll always engage in but a means of helping me adapt. Not point in fretting too much about the morrow. It will come and be full of surprises.

For how long should I be thus confined? Who knows? We’ll incline our hearts and listen for the subtle signals that only two people in love can hear. Duration is merely a quantity. The outcome is a quality.

This is a mutual exploration of possibilities. She wouldn’t seek if I weren’t able to offer it. I wouldn’t ask her to accept it if she weren’t happy to.

Given my last relationship it may even prove to be a form of healing.

Whatever the outcome we’ll learn more about one another. One of the joys of love.