Saturday, April 20, 2019

20.4.2019

Since it occurred to me I have never posted the little piece of text here, even though the subject does come up frequently in my blog posts, I decided to correct that overlook now. After all, it is Easter now, a celebration of fertility and that sort of stuff, making it very appropriate. Neither there hasn't been mention about it in the right hand column, even though I realize there should have been.

Originally I wrote it for my Fetlife profile in August 2018, because I felt it something that should be there, as well. Not that there had been much success for me there, but just in case someone did end up in my profile. Afterwards I posted it also on Facebook.


Anyway, here it is for you, as well. This version is slightly expanded from the original. 



There is also one thing I want you all visiting my profile to know.


I AM IMPOTENT


I know the correct term nowadays would be "erectile dysfunction" but I see know reason to call it that or making it sound anything else it using a different term. I am impotent, plain and simple.


I have been unable to achieve erection for twenty years soon, thanks to type one diabetes. No one I know in real life. most likely have no idea about this, because I look pretty young and fit, but I've never been able to get hard in a sexual situations. My first girlfriend managed to take my cherry after months of trying, at which point I was already 33 years old. Viagra has no effect on me either.


I do get morning erections, but they go away as soon as I wake up. In a way they are the bittersweet reminders from mother nature, so I wouldn't forget how they feel like. However, they are so brief I wouldn't have a possibility to actually do anything with them even there was a chance for it. They do make very horny though, which usually means I spend my morning hours by playing with myself.


My impotence, mind you, doesn't mean inability to cum. That is something a surprising amount of fellow kinksters I have met on-line have trouble grasping. For them sex means erection and an intercourse, or masturbation, and chastity is all about wearing a cage that prevents erections. In my case a cage would serve no purpose.


I can masturbate and cum quite fine, and I have learned to love my limp orgasms quite a lot, so much I actually prefer them to the hard ones. I have experienced them with the help of a drug you inject into the penis, but I have to say I have never felt it is something I am supposed to do, or enjoy. My favourite way of cumming is in fact a ruined limp one.


Usually that includes sitting in front of my full body masturbation mirror, plug inside my anus, clothespins on my testicles and nipples and sometimes some water in my bladder as well. Especially the bladder torture drives me quote wild. Most cases my orgasm takes place only after a I have edged for hours and my clit is quite sore, not to mention my tormented bladder.


I like to fiddle my clit on the brink of an orgasm and let go at the last possible moments. The feeling of one's limp penis oozing the sperm out, lazy spurt after another is a glorious one and makes me feel wonderfully feminine as well. If I am in extra naughty mood I like keep the eye contact with myself all through the orgasm. Not only it is interesting to see what kind of expressions I make as I orgasm, but it's wonderfully humiliating as well.


Like I said, I could cum and like most of the people reading this blog know, I do spend most of my free time edging. However, I feel that since I am not able to get laid, to use the common term, I shouldn't. That I haven't earned my orgasms, that it is wrong of me to decide it myself when I cum. In fact I would go as far as to I like myself more when I deny myself for long periods of time.


When I have my periods of "almost normal cumming" I notice myself becoming more selfish, and feeling an ejaculation a day is a some sort of basic human right. The longer I am without an orgasm, the more submissive I become. If I am in a relationship it means the sexual pleasure of the woman in my life becomes the sole source of pleasure for me. If there isn't anyone I try to look for other ways for expressing my submissiveness and sexual energy, such as writing. 


My impotence is also the reason why protagonists in many of my short stories are impotent. My writing is, after all, a way for me to get to experience things I never could in real life. And quite frankly, it would feel very unnatural for the stories to have a protagonist with a working cock, and have descriptions of intercourses, when I have no idea what that would feel like.


My impotence is also one of the things that made everything fit in place when I realized I am not in fact a man. Way back when I started losing my ability to get erect I didn't even notice it, since 99,99% of the sex I've had during my life has been with myself, and like I said I can cum just fine without an erection. 


If I had had a normal sex life of a man that would have naturally been a disaster for me, but now I hardly noticed it. After I realized I am in fact more female than male, not having an erection simply made more sense. Little sissy girls weren't supposed to have ugly male erections. Anyone interested is more than welcome to read the whole "coming out" blog post here.


One could say my impotence has made me what I am, and affected my self-esteem. Among other things it has also kept me from "chasing women" and kept me single, because what would the point be? I have always felt inadequate compared to real men, and extremely submissive to women. But still, it is what I am, and I love my limp clit.


Many people have told me on-line there are other ways to keep a woman happy. That is true, of course. However, the idea of being able to get hard for a woman is the measure of a man's worth is so deeply rooted in our society. The mere thought of finding a nice geek girl, getting know to her and realizing she may like me as well, and knowing sooner or later I have to say "Oh, by the way, I can't get it up, I hope that's not a problem for you?" is simply too frightening.


Often fellow kinkstres are baffled when I talk to them on-line, don't I miss sex? Don't I want to fuck women? Usually I have replied with: "Do you miss being on Mars?" How could I miss something I've never experienced? Me pulling my limp member is the way I've had sex all my life. It would feel very strange, not to mention scary to suddenly have a penis that works.


I fear if something like that happened, I wouldn't know what to do with an erection. Sex has always scared me a bit, and seemed a thing that "real grown ups do". I've never felt the urge to penetrate a woman, rather vice versa in fact. In other words, I'm perfectly happy, and proud of my limp clit. Perfectly happy to be an impotent wanker.

Friday, April 5, 2019

5.4.2019

I came across yesterday a news about a proposed bill in Georgia, USA. The bill would require men 55 and older to report each and every time they ejaculate to the nearest law enforcement agency immediately. The bill is naturally only a PR gimmick, and as such an effective one, and it's aimed against legislating birth control and abortion. But it got me thinking.

I wanted to share the piece of news and started writing. I was supposed to write only a few lines, but the text just kept coming and coming. One could I got an inspiration. I admit, what I wrote is polemic, and I did want to rise eyebrows with it, and I was very turned on doing so, as well.


And yes, the scope on what I wrote is extremely narrow when it comes to different preferences, meaning it is limited only to men and women and relationships between them. In other words, please bear in mind that this is a masturbation fantasy. It is, however, also something I have lived by for several years and what I truly believe in. Call it my "Chastity Manifesto", if you will.



Men of this world need to made understand, once and for all, that ejaculating and orgasming is a privilege for men, not a basic right. It's just not right, or natural for men to decide when they get to cum and when not.


When men indulge to this filthy habit they are committing a crime against themselves, a crime against womanhood and a crime against the nature. Male getting to decide about his own ejaculations is immoral, unnatural, harmful and wrong. It is not the healthy, natural way of relieving pressure we have been taught it is.


Male getting to decide when he ejaculates gives him the message his sex organs are there for his own pleasure, thereby perverting his sexuality. A male ejaculation is something that's supposed to be a sacred, holy act, and something that should took place as infrequently as possible. And always, always either in the presence of a woman, or at least after being given permission to it by a woman.


Why? Because the center of a man's life should be the woman in his life, not his own hand! A woman's orgasm should always be the one in the man's mind, not his own. Quite simply, because woman's orgasm is much more important and should be valued more. Woman is physically capable of orgasming more frequently, and therefore she should experience it more often, not the male.


The job of a male is to help a woman in his life to orgasm, any way he can. If he is allowed to cum whenever he likes he forgets this responsibility, and is under the false belief sex is about his pleasure, not the woman's. In truth however this is vice versa, sex is about woman's pleasure, and about man helping her to achieve it. 


But isn't it awfully unfair and cruel, you ask? Doesn't this mean the men would be constantly horny and aching to cum? Isn't it wrong for women to get to cum all the time, but limit it for men? 


Well, one could ask whether it's unfair and cruel to put reins on a horse. Some may say it is, but it is also necessary. Reins are needed to make the horse do whatever it is its rider needs it to do. The same thing applies to men. Limiting male's orgasm are the reins he is controlled with. Reins do not make the horse unhappy, and neither should controlling man's orgasms should make him unhappy.


Is the man constantly horny and aching to cum? Naturally. But that is exactly the point. By putting the valve there, the woman is able to harness the power that lies within the man's testicles. In a way, man's body, or his genitals, are like a motor, and his horniness, or orgasms, are energy build-ups created by the motor. A horny man behaves like he do merely because he has too much energy within his testicles. 


However, if the male is allowed to cum whenever he feels like, it means all that energy goes to waste. By putting a valve on male's sexual energy it is possible to direct and focus that energy into something actually useful, instead of his orgasms. That may be the sexual pleasure of the woman in his life, some other efficient activity she sees fit, or something else entirely.


A horny man is focused, eager to please the woman in his life in any way he can, because he knows his chances of being able to cum depend solely on her. Also, men enjoy being horny, immensely, whether they admitted it or not. Being horny makes them feel alive, and it also does good for them, mentally as well as physically. Ultimately, a horny man is a happy man.


Woman's orgasm is another matter entirely. The way I see it, woman's ability to potentially cum much more often than man, as well as the problems some women have achieving an orgasm, seem to suggest women are meant to orgasm more than they currently do. Therefore women should be encouraged to orgasm as much as possible, whereas for men, for whom it is way too easy, it should be limited to absolute minimum.


Therefore orgasm should always be a prize for the man, something he gets only if he has fulfilled his responsibilities towards the woman adequately. If that man has no such woman, for one reason or another, it is simply the mother nature's way of saying that man should not cum, it's as simple as that. That their cum should stay in their testicles, as long as they live.



The original post can be found at:
https://simonebee.bdsmlr.com/post/56066198

Friday, March 29, 2019

29.3.2019

This blog posts is about my relationship to orgasms, from two very different viewpoints. A few days ago there was a question on a kinky Facebook group whether there's fetish for orgasm. To be exact, the question was about one's partner's or sub's orgasm, for example in D/s relationship, fantasizing about making one's sub to pass out, being obsessed about it and so on.

Well, I have a huge, huge fetish for my partner's orgasm, and for female orgasm in general. One could even claim it's not quite healthy anymore, but then again, what fetish is?

As you know, I am an assigned submissive male, but I have always have what I call a pleasing fetish, doing whatever my partner likes, forgetting my own physical pleasure but getting huge emotional pleasure in return. And that pleasing often includes female orgasm.

In most of my relationships there has been elements of BDSM but none of my partners have been purely dominant. When they have noticed how much I love to make them cum other ways than using my male-ish genitals they have been more than willing to let me.

In my head that has been an act of submission, even if the person I am making to cum is quite under my control as it happens. Also, since the act isn't a stepping stone to something else, but all there is for me, I like to get most out of it.

Meaning, when I go down on a woman I stay there until she gestures me to stop. There have been times they have lost their ability speak momentarily, after orgasming so much. When that happens I feel extremely pleased, knowing I have done a good job.

When I make my partner cum I want it to be an act of worship, plain and simple, and I wouldn't even want to soil it with my own physical pleasure. Like I said, maybe not totally healthy, but I cannot help it. Woman orgasming is my opinion the most beautiful sight in the world.


A few days earlier there had been another question in the very same group. This time the question was about "mind fuck". Is that your kink? What do you like about doing it or recieving it? And so on. Well, I have always felt mind fuck it's so much more erotic than anything you can do with or to your body. 

Let's take an example. As you all know I have a huge orgasm denial fetish. However, I still remember the time when the idea of not being able to cum daily was unthinkable, and by the third day I was usually climbing on walls.

Those days I had a young and pretty girlfriend, who had a quirky personality, and a dominant streak she knew I liked. We were unable to see each other daily, so we spent most of our time on chat.

Once the discussion between us led us to cum bans and she decided it would be fun to forbid cumming for me until we saw each other again. 

Then she went through every day I wasn't allowed to cum, each as a separate chat message:

"You're not allowed to cum today." 

"You're not allowed to cum tomorrow." 

"You're not allowed to cum the day after." 

"And you're not allowed to cum the four days following that."

Then she told she would be cumming a lot during that time, and to just make it more tormenting for me she would let me know every time she had one. And that she would have one right away.

At that point I was so horny, my heart was racing, and my hands were literally shaking.

Does that qualify a mind fuck?

Wednesday, March 6, 2019

6.3.2019

To weed her friend list a friend of mine on her Facebook wall whether people support gay marriage or not. I told her I support gay marriage the way I support the sun. Or the moon. They exist whether I support them or not. They don't ask nor need my support, or approval. Thinking they do would be quite silly. But yes, of course I do, most of my friends are queer. Still, that's the principle.

Seriously speaking though, the whole marriage thing is a rather interesting question, since it almost always involves the church somehow. To me that's doubly problematic since I'm an Atheist, more or less. I find the whole idea of a "church wedding" with priest and everything somewhat archaic tradition, and feel a wedding should be an union between two people, and their families, not imaginary friends of theirs. So I sort of hope people would grow up and learn some day to tie the knot without religions involved.

Well, a few years ago we had a big hand-twisting over here over gender neutral marriage. The law was voted on the parliament and it was passed, but only barely. The gay people had had a possibility of registering their relationship even before that, granting them all the rights of a married couple, minus a right to adopt children. What was discussed now however was marriage, and some people felt it would be wrong to force priests to wed gays against their religious beliefs.

And yes, when I say "the church" I mean the church, not a church. Now, I know that in States there are... what, hundreds of bigger and smaller churches spread all over the country. And I have understood it's possible to be asked on a workplace what church you belong to, and that it may be unwise in the light of your career to say: "None, I'm an Atheist!". Good-bye, promotion.

In Finland, however, there is one big Evangelical Lutheran Church to which 70% of Finns belong to. It's more or less a part of state, and for hundreds of years it was solely the church's job to keep on tabs where people were born, where they lived and so on, all the census stuff. Finns are not very religious though, and most people who belong to the church do so only because it's sort of a thing you do. The Sunday services aren't a thing families go regularly or at all. In fact they are mostly attended by only people that are "publicly in faith" and elderly people.

Belonging or not belonging to the church however has become an important weapon in the gender neutral marriage battle. There is a certain Finnish politician from the Finnish Christian party (yes, we have one, but it's extremely small) who is very vocal about things having to with gay marriage, and whenever she opens her mouth in media the numbers of people resigning from the church sky-rocket. It's really easy to do, and there's even a website you can do it in less than a minute.

This has, in fact, been something that's hard to explain from people from States. During one of these resignation peaks I saw a comment on an international discussion forum, most likely from someone from USA: "How do you "resign" from a church? Just stop going there, it should send them the message!" Well, it doesn't work like that over here. 

Anyhow, when the gender neutral marriage was a hot potato, I was somewhat disappointed as I realized how big thing a church wedding still was to so many people. It seems that marriage and the church go hand in hand, no matter what. I would never, ever have a church wedding, though. Even the idea gives me the creeps.

Do you want to hear how I would like it to be handled? Well, in my ideal society marriage and the church would be completely divided. If a couple loves each other and wants to commit for life they could tie a juridical union, which could be called for example a marriage, and which would be the same no matter the gender of the people involved. It could be even between more than two people, making polyamory a legal, binding union.

If the people involved would also like to have a great big party with a band and all their loved ones present, they could do so. And if they are religious, they could invite also the holy person of that religion to bless their union. No religious organization would have to bless anyone if they're against the union in question, of course. But in that case the couple should ask themselves whether this is a religion or a church they truly want to be a part of?


Some time earlier the same Facebook friend had asked whether people believed there are more than two genders. The reason, again, was most likely tho weed out the bigots.

My answer? Well, as we all know many Native American cultures had four genders, and the wild animal kingdom has a wide range of interesting variations when it comes to gender and reproducing.

I have many times wished we could "all be just people" but with human species the gender has become incredibly over-emphasized during the last couple of hundreds of years. Male and female body don't differ that much from each other, but fashion emphasizes the differences insanely. Gender dictates how you're being treated, sometimes the whole course of your life. Those who don't feel comfortable in the small box that is called being a man, in early 21st century western culture often go to the other extreme, or they feel they have to.

The whole sexual landscape, or should I say battleground, is filled nowadays with classifications and labels, and many people seem to have the need to define themselves with a long list stating what kind of -sexual one is. (I am chastisexual, among other things, it's a word I came up myself.) So it seems the issue of gender is coming more and more important, not the other way around.

I don't know what I am, and I've had to make use the same smörgåsbord of labels everybody else uses: demisexual, sapiosexual, gender fluid, you name it. I also like the terms female man, or feminine male. I have had to use the labels, since for many people I have talked with on-line, there seems to be only two options, whether I'm a man, or I am going to get myself operated woman, no middle-ground.

I know I am physically a male and that will never change, but at the same time I have never been comfortable in that role socially, and what is expected of me. For years I got "You are a 20-year-old woman" results from "highly-scientific" on-line tests. I merely found it hilarious, because I found the role of a traditional manly man extremely distasteful. Like I said, I don't know what I am. All I know is that without this whole idea of being non-binary I would be even more depressed, and feel even much more of a failure as a man.

But still, there are days I hope the gender roles would all just go away, and everyone could be whatever they want, and wear whatever they want. To simple be people. I wear skirts and knee-high stripey socks while I'm at home, because that's what I feel most comfortable and pretty in. Or to put it the other way, this way I don't feel ugly, which was the situation before something "snapped" inside my head year and a half ago. I had never looked myself in the mirror and thought "Damn I look good" before that happened. But still, I don't have guts to go out in a skirt, thanks to gender roles.

I know I shouldn't complain. I live in a culture, in Scandinavia to be exact, where the gender has much less impact on your life than in other parts of the world, even less than in USA. Also, there are no gender pronouns here, we're all "hän" in Finnish, unlike, say, in Swedish where there's han and hon, meaning he and she. The word for woman isn't derived from the word for man, Mr. and Mrs. (as well as Miss) are completely different words, and people seldom use them, but use people's first names (or, if you want to be formal, both first and the last name) instead, and so on. So yes, trans people do have it a bit easier over here, I'm proud to say.

Did this answer the question a slightest bit? I have no idea.

Monday, September 10, 2018

10.9.2018


I have often said it is difficult for me to make a post on my blog if I feel there is nothing new to tell about my non-existent sexual life. However, now there is, so there is time for an update.

Like I have hinted at in my previous updates, I was recently in charge of a pretty big project that took all my time for several months in advance, and took place this summer. The stress caused by the project was a considerable one, and it ended up having an effect to my cumming, as well.


One could say I slipped bit by bit into having almost a normal cumming schedule. Being horny and frustrated is fun, but with the project like that to take care of I found it easier to cum whenever being chaste became too hard to handle. 


An orgasm once in two weeks, or once a week made it possible for me to concentrate on other things than sex. For a normal male the cumming schedule wouldn't have been a reckless one, but for me it was. I did my best to keep the number to an absolute minimum, though. 


Finally, at the end July I realized enough is enough, and decided to stop cumming until further notice. I was sick and tired of cumming, and wanted my orgasms to mean something again. 


However, there was another thing affecting me at that point. As I said, the project took all my energy for several months, and after it was completed I suffered a minor burnout I'm still struggling to get over. For several weeks it was incredibly hard for me to get anything done, especially things having to do with my vanilla life.


Inefficiency in my vanilla life meant I became extremely active as the kinky me in social media. It was so nice, and so much fun to interact with fellow sissies and other people to whom I was merely Simone, and with whom I could forget my other life, filled with responsibilities.


This in turn resulted into lot of masturbating. After all, I had stopped cumming, but not wanking off, or edging. There was times I could use whole days, 20 hours a day or more, by pulling my limp little clit. This doesn't sound healthy, and I admit it wasn't. But it was fun.


I am unsure whether my impotence had to do with it, but on occasions I felt I was able to reach the most enjoyable edging state only after I had pulled my clit for 5 to 10 hours. Also my clit reached a whole new state of limpness at that point, making masturbating more and more enjoyable, which in turn made it almost impossible to stop it.


Naturally I had to be very careful and keep myself as far away from the actual edge as possible, to prevent accidents I knew edging a limp dick for hours might cause. At the same time I had to keep myself sufficiently horny for the edging be frustrating enough, and for me to be beyond the limit of any rational thinking.   


The fact that I don't work and live alone meant I could dedicate all my waking hours to edging. I usually have my Tumblr constantly open when I'm at home, which provides me a steady feed of erotic images to look at or to edge to occasionally. Wearing any clothes around the house started to feel unnecessary.   


At that point I had also developed quite a taste for wanking in the nude, which isn't always the case with me. Now, however, I felt that edging while being nude or only in my thigh high striped socks, which make me feel girly and sexy, somehow made it easier to give myself fully to what I was doing.


There was even occasions during which I put my old invention of wanking mirrors into use. As I was masturbating sixth hour in a row, and watching myself from two big square mirrors on both sides of my computer screen, my form brightly lit by the desk lamp, I had trouble understanding why I had ever stopped using them.


It took me a while to realize I had developed a masturbation addiction. But being able to cut it was another thing entirely. The more I tried to take control of my vanilla life, and start taking care of my responsibilities again, the more I realized how much more fun it was to play with myself.


I tried to maintain my social life, which I had neglected somewhat, since it felt harder and harder to leave home. When I did, everything and everybody around me started to annoy me, and many times I found myself thinking how much more fun it would be at home wanking. 


On one such occasion I came home late at night, got immediately rid of all my clothes, started edging and kept doing so up until dawn. Because I had just had some normal social life, I thought to myself. I had spent several hours with my friends, and was entitled now to have some fun, right?     


A week ago I finally I realized I have to put extreme methods into use. I own a couple of chastity cages, but I have never used them more than a few hours at a time. With me being single and in charge of my own chastity they have never served the same function they may have with a sub who is locked up and owned.


Now, however, I realized locking myself up was the only possible choice. By this point I already had a huge amount of piled tasks to take care of, and if I didn't do them, I would be in big trouble. This in turn seemed impossible for me as long as I had access to my clit.


I had the cage on for 48 hours the first time around, and during the first 24 of them I managed to get more things done I had during the previous six weeks put together. It seemed my nightmare was over, or at least I had found a way out of it.


I even started to think how amazing it would be ti have it on a whole week, and bit by bit develop a same kind of fetish to it than to not cumming. Having a one around my genitals would soon feel normal to me and I would feel naked without one. The idea of becoming a "real" chastity slave excited and turned me on.  


Having the cage on for such a long time meant also that I had to have it on outside the house. I had never done that, because I had felt having it on while meeting my friends meant somehow I would be subjecting them to my fetish, that it would even be seen as a sexual abuse of some kind.


What resulted was much less sexual than I had anticipated. It seems that erotic fiction has highly exaggerated the effect something like that may have. Sure, I did feel quite a freak realizing what I was doing, but more than erotic the experience was merely uncomfortable, and occasionally painful.  


After I came home I checked how my testicles were doing and got a bit of a scare. The skin on them was quite pale and the capillaries looked much darker than I remembered. After all, my cage is a cheap Chinese knock-off with no possibility to adjust the ring. 


So I decided to remove the cage and put it on again in the morning. It was kind of bummer, I admit, because I was already looking forward to going into bed with it. However, this was a good trial run, I thought, and I would put it on again in the morning.


I woke up extremely horny the next morning, my little clit hard as rock. I decided I had earned a bit of playing with myself. I would put the cage on later, and perhaps have it on a day longer this time, I thought. Before even putting anything on or eating I turned my computer on and started to work on the erotic story I have been writing.


Seven hours later I was still sitting in front of the computer, naked, my limp clit in my hand, clothespins on my nipples and quite unable to stop. It seemed my nemesis the edging monster had returned, and was now filled with rage for being made captive, and wanted now either to have a revenge, or remind me what kind of power it had on me.


Fortunately I finally got a female on-line friend to order me to stop and put the cage back on. I was so grateful she did, because I fear I would have been unable to do it otherwise. 


This time stuffing the little thing in took more doing than usual, since all the pulling and edging had created, not an actual erection but a light swelling. As I turned the key and locked the thing, there was a nice sensation of extreme tightness that I enjoyed. The beast was locked, once again.


During the next few days I made interesting discoveries. One such was after another equally active day away from home, involving bicycling, bending, stretching and sitting in challenging positions long periods of time. A little after I'd had the cage on for 24 hours I went to a public toilet to check how my testicles are doing.


Again I noticed the capillaries looked much darker than usually. It seemed if I'm around the house my testicles can take several days in the cage. However, if the day involves a lot of strain to them they start to look unhealthy.


What's unfortunate is the fact that at that point I had already developed quite a fascination with being locked up, more so I would have ever believed possible. Having the cage on makes me feel incredibly emasculated, restrained and safe, all feelings I love.


As you all know, I have a very small penis, which means I have had to get myself even smaller cage for it. The cage has no room for growth whatsoever, and pressing the limp member into a space that's only the third of its stretched length is a wonderful one. Almost as wonderful as closing the lock.


I also like how my genitals feel while being locked up. Instead of a loose, big skin sack and my small member wobbling about, the cage makes them a tight ball, a little package that is fun hold in one's hand occasionally.


Even going to bed while having the cage on feels incredibly sexy. Having nothing but cage on seems somehow to turn me on, and on several nights I have felt my little clit pulsating lightly, almost as if it realized it's caged, and wanted to get free.


The best part, however, are the nights, or rather the mornings. As you all know, my penis hasn't ever gotten hard in sexual situations, and the only time it does so nowadays is during my sleep. However, with the tight cage on it is unable to do so.


The past week I have learned to love waking up in the early hours of the morning by the feeling of fullness, as my excuse for a penis tries desperately to get hard. I love my morning erections, make no mistake about that, but even more than that I love the uncomfortable feeling of not being able to get hard creates. 


You should see my expression on those moments. "Try all you want", I usually sigh in my sleep, with a wide smile on my face. "You're not getting hard. Poor thing..." 


I didn't want to lose all those little things I had learned to love.


I thought about my dilemma long at hard after I had gotten home and unlocked myself, and finally came up with a solution. I knew I had two similarly active days ahead, so it would make no sense to try wearing the cage during them.


However, what if I wore the cage during the night, and didn't take it off before having to go out the next day, and then put it back immediately after returning home? Could this even become my new daily routine? I could take the cage off whenever I go outside, to save my testicles from excessive strain, but keep myself locked at all times when I'm at home?


This has, in fact, been my routine the past few days. The only exception has been the time I have been writing this blog post. I somehow feel that writing my blog posts without masturbating at the same time just wouldn't be right. 


After all, I do want my blog posts to expose and reveal my sexual me as bare as possible, and just the way it is with my erotic fiction, I feel that only pulling my limp clit gives them the right feel. Openness I hope you, the readers of my blog like.


And speaking of erotic fiction, my edging spree did have one positive result. Because of it I ended writing an erotic short story I mentioned earlier. It is called "The Bus Encounter", and I think it's my hottest one yet.


I got inspiration to it during a real life bus journey in August. Some of the things that happen in the story did take place in real life, but I will let you figure out which. I have made no attempts hiding who the protagonist in the story is. It's me, pure and simple.


One of the themes included in the story is impotence. I thought long and hard whether I should include it or not, and even wrote a version without it, for the story to be more identifiable for public audience.


However, I finally decided to make the protagonist impotent. Mainly, because there is very little such erotica around, and also because it was easier for me to write him such, being impotent myself. 


Other themes included in the story are foot worship, public masturbation, verbal humiliation and bladder play. I hope you enjoy it as much I enjoyed writing it.

Saturday, August 18, 2018

18.8.2018

I think it is time for an update. In my previous post I told you about an interesting new development in my cumming schedule. The idea was that I was would cum once a day, with no exceptions. No matter whether I wanted it myself, or had time for it, I was to orgasm daily for eight whole weeks. 

Considering there was once a time I was used to cum daily, at first it seemed there was nothing out of the ordinary in the new cumming regime. Despite the fact that lately the most frequent cumming pace for me had been an orgasm once in four or five days. 

For the first few days it felt great. As I was pulling my limp penis daily I enjoyed the feeling of being used it created. "I have to do this, it's not up to me", I thought. After all, I had never been under obligation to cum, at least not in this degree.

Surprisingly quickly, however, the arrangement lost it appeal and stopped being fun. One day being sad or too busy and I ended up having to do it twice the next day. Pretty soon cumming became a labour, a distasteful responsibility.

I do want to assure I did take the "prescription" my friend gave me very seriously and did my best to follow it. I continued it as long as I could, but by the end of the second week of my mandatory cumming regime I realized it just wasn't for me.

The arrangement might have worked under different circumstances. That is to say, if I'd had a girlfriend who would had set it, or even a chat acquaintance who I could be in contact daily. Someone who could have checked in on me to inquire whether I had already taken care of the day's task, and if I wasn't, to make sure it got done.

It seems chastity, or cum denial. is now either a permanent part of my sexuality, or an addiction I cannot quit. As I cummed on 31st of last month, knowing it would be the last for a while, I felt better immediately, more peaceful and calm I had been in ages.

A few days later the feeling of horniness and the familiar ache within my testicles returned. It may be what some people call "blue balls", something one feels only prolonged need to cum creates. For me it was an old friend or a companion that has joined me once again on my journey, a friend I had missed. 

It has bow been a couple of weeks since my last cum, and especially during the past couple of mornings I have woken up extremely horny, and had nice amounts of erotic dreams as well. On some mornings I have even ended up humping the bedsheets extremely frustrated, which is always a good sign. 

I believe this is at least partly thanks to exposing myself to quite a lot of porn daily. I also have the habit of keeping my porn Tumblr continuously open as I'm on my computer, to provide me a steady stream of erotic images to view, or to edge to.

No matter the reason behind it, my newfound horniness pleases me greatly. After all, the last thing I would want for my chastity to be easy. The whole point in denying oneself orgasms, in my opinion at least, is to make one (or at least ones body) desperate to cum and to enjoy the desperation not letting it cum creates.

The best part in my new ban is naturally the fact I have no idea how long it will last. There is no plan, no set release date. That feeling of uncertainty, a feeling of adventure, fills me with such anticipation and joy.

Even though I have no definite plans I do have a good feeling about this ban, a feeling it could be a longer one. After all, I feel I have cummed way too much this year already, so much one could say I am sick and tired of it.

Simply the idea of getting to do a nice, long denial period reaching double digits and last a few months at least, is extremely exciting. I do understand it's a slippery slope, though, and longer the ban continues, the less I desire to end it.

Many people may ask themselves isn't this lonely? Shouldn't I try to find someone in charge of my orgasms rather than denying myself? Well, of course this is lonely, utterly lonely. And yes, of course I shouldn't be in control of my orgasms. But in a way I feel denying myself is the next best thing for me, at the moment.

Monday, July 23, 2018

23.7.2018


It seems my cumming regime just got a new turn. It is an unexpected and not entirely unpleasant one, but at at the same time something that will be quite a challenge to me.

As most of you know I have kept a diary of my orgasms or lack of them, dating all the way to 2012. You all also know I'm heavily into chastity and have had incredibly long chastity periods in the past.


I have been involved the past few months in a project that's taken a lot of my time and energy. Because of it I have had to "give in" to the needs of my body, and to start cumming once in 5 to 6 days, to get my mind off sex and to be able to concentrate.


The project is now over, and a couple of days I asked a Domme I know what I should do now. Should I start denying myself properly again, or give in to my body whenever it so wishes?


The problem is that since I'm single there isn't anyone controlling my orgasms. I have therefore felt extremely bad for having the orgasms I've had, since I feel I shouldn't be the one who decides whether I cum or not. After being in cum bans of varying length since 2013, the act of cumming without permission just feels... wrong.     


My friend thought the question over and a minute said that since I have a habit of brooding and periods of melancholy she prescribed an orgasm a day for me...


...for the next eight weeks.


"We will see how you feel after that", she added.


I am well aware she could have given me an equally long chastity period as well, which I would have accepted gladly. But that's the beauty of giving over the control of your sexual functions to someone else.


The picture below is a chart of all my orgasms I've had this year. The red dots indicate ban days, the green ones cum days, the black dots ruined orgasms and the magenta ones the beginning of my mandatory cumming routine.




As you can see from the chart I really haven't cummed that much this year, even though it feels to me I have done so an awfully lot. In fact I have only begun to realize what sort a commitment following my Domme friend's prescription actually is. 


After all, it's been almost four years since I've last had the possibility to cum that often, and even before I started chastity play there was days I just didn't feel like masturbating. Never in my life I've had an obligation to masturbate daily. 


At least I haven't cummed nearly as often I am now supposed to. No matter whether I have time or energy for it, no matter if a want to cum. No matter where I am. A cum a day, period. By the time we get to the end of the eight week period it will be fall already.


Like I said, this will be a challenge for me, and I sincerely hope I can keep up with the new routine. At the same time I am extremely happy, not because I get to cum but because it is not me who is control of my orgasms. Since that is the way it's supposed to be, after all. 


Already there has been more than one occasions when I wouldn't have even liked to masturbate, but done so anyway, because I have to. To feel your own hand pulling on your limp clit, and knowing it has nothing to do with whether I want it or not, is extremely arousing. It also makes one to feel wonderfully used.