Saturday, June 5, 2021


Like most people, I've been watching a lot of television shows during the last year and a half. There is one thing that has started to annoy me quite a bit in them, to put it mildly. This has also led me to think about matters such as sex, sexuality and myself quite a lot.

It seems that if there are two people in the show who are developing some sort of feelings towards each other, the only direction this can or will lead to in shows is the couple ending up banging together. 

That's all there is. No romance, no getting to know the other person, nothing. Just attraction, sex and that's it. Or as having sex is often referred to "getting it over with".

Yes, I am well aware the fact conventions when it comes to storytelling in television have changed. A few decades ago writers postponed the leading couple ending up in bed together as long as possible, because everybody knew after that the tension and mystery between the characters would be gone.

Nowadays in similar situation the people in question have to have sex in a matter of few episodes, otherwise the viewer gets bored. Also, sex in television shows seems to be a flag marker of sorts, that something significant has happened. If the couple hasn't had sex they are not a couple, and there is no romance, or a relationship.

If anything, the lack of this flag marker is a sign of a problem, or that something is missing and causing trouble. They like each other, but haven't banged? Why? There's clearly something wrong here.

So yes, it's a way of storytelling, but is this also the way the world works nowadays? Do people really think: "There is this person I really like, so I'll better bang her the first chance I get to find out whether there's any future for us."

I remember talking to a woman roughly my age at one point about these matters. I mentioned her an interview of an elderly actress I had once seen. In the interview the woman told she feels pity for the youth nowadays who seem to think romance is just sex. That they miss out on the wonderful period when the couple is flirting without not being exactly sure where it will all lead to.

My friend didn't saw any point in things like that. Her message to me was: "If you're into someone, just tell her that and get it over with. Otherwise you will only keep her hanging, not knowing whether you like her or not." When I asked whether there was no place for romance anymore, she basically rolled her eyes.

That conversation was an eye opener for me, albeit not a nice one. The thing is, that "just tell her and get it over with" part I mentioned in the beginning as well is something I have always been unable to do. Watching these shows have brought that conversation back to me many times. Truth to tell, watching them is often not only annoying, but also plain painful. 

I can only guess the people writing these shows have no idea how it feels to watch them if you happen to be someone like me, a single impotent male, with a romantic life that's a dead end. To see week in and week out fictional characters hooking up and ending up screwing each other like it's the easiest thing in the world.

At the same time I can't help but wondering whether the world has really passed me by. Whether being "the hopeless romantic", as I like often to put it, is just another way of saying I'm a relic of the past with no place in today's world.

Even more unnerving is the thought there is something actually wrong with me, not seeing the importance of people having sex with each other. As you all know, I am extremely sexual person, but the thing is, I have never understood sex itself, or what the big deal about is supposed to be. 

Sure, I've heard people describing what an incredible experience it is with a right person, how close it can bring two people. I have never experienced that. I had already started suffering from impotence when I finally lost my cherry at 33 years of age, and whenever I've been expected to perform intercourse, I have felt it's something I shouldn't be doing.

So, perhaps it's not the fault of the world, or the people, or the way television shows are nowadays. Perhaps it's just the fact I'm damaged goods.

Tuesday, May 4, 2021


As faithful readers of my blog know, I have a habit of getting kicks and being turned on by the oddest things. This blog post is a proof of that, and a story of yet another strange thing that managed to make me extremely horny.

Some time ago came across with something that could be called "a self-help list". You know the kind, a list of ways people can feel better about themselves and have a brighter outlook on their own lives.

Since I was bored, it occurred to me it would be fun to turn the points of the list upside down, from a perspective of compulsive masturbator like me. You know, as someone who has had very poor success rate in basically all areas of life and who has very little to look forward to 

Doing this and expanding each point turned out to be extremely pleasurable experience. I pulled my impotent penis all through the writing of this piece, and I managed to take myself several times to the edge. 

What can I say, this is all from the bottom of my heart, something I truly believe in, and how I see myself in relation to the rest of the world.


1. Getting your self-esteem from others. Especially women. Your success among women out of your league is a valid way to measure your worth as a human being.

2. Constantly attacking and putting yourself down. You are a loser, and a wanker. It will do you good to admit it. Next to that fact all your possible achievements outside wanking, have little value.

3. Thinking that others are better than you. Because let's face it, they are. Better at sex, better at relationships, better at life, better and more successful when it comes to their careers, and so on. Look around you and admit it.

4. Expecting things to not turn out well. Your past performance is a pretty good indicator of future success. If you haven't had luck with women so far and most of your time has been spent by masturbating, it's a safe bet that's what you will do for the rest of your life.

5. Living in the past. There may have been that hot girlfriend, or that hot classmate, or that hot woman you once saw in the bus and couldn't take your eyes off. Think about them while you masturbate, how hot they were. Even though you know they have moved on in their lives, unlike you.

6. Fearing the future. We all know you have very little to look forward in life, and it's safe bet you will use more and more of the following years by masturbating. After all, a good way not to take your mind off the future and how bleak yours is, is masturbating.

7. Being afraid of change. In your case the change would mean you'd have less chances to, you guessed it, masturbate. A promotion, more responsibilities in life, dating or even a relationship, they would all take your eyes and mind off the thing you love most, and the one and only thing you're good at. 

What's interesting is that after I published this on a small-scale erotic social media platform I was contacted by several people, who were concerned, and told me that what I had written sounded like something an incel would say.

I am well aware I do have all the qualities and life experiences that could have turned someone an incel. However, let me assure you, I am not one.

Incels are sexist idiots who live in the fallacy that womankind somehow owes them something. Their view of life is ridden with misogyny, and hatred towards not only towards women they blatantly objectify, but also men having sex with women.

I have no such misconceptions. Women in this world don't owe me anything. How could I think that? I'm a loser, a wanker, and sexually speaking damaged goods in many ways. No woman in their right mind would want to have anything to do with me. It is quite natural and understandable. 

If anything, I admire women, and aspire to be more like them. If there's something I can do for womankind, it is helping them gaining more voice in the society by voting only women in elections, as well as fight for things like LGBT rights, in my own little way.   

Also, let me assure you I am very happy for all the people in this world who have sex with one another, let it be men, women or variations thereupon, I really am. Having a healthy, fulfilling sex life is a beautiful thing. 

I have merely understood and accepted the fact that due to numerous reasons, this is not my part in this life anymore. If you have followed this blog longer, you're painfully aware what those reasons are. In many ways it never was.  

I think one should be happy for what they are, and proud of it. As well as aware who or what they are. I know what I am. I'm a complete loser, and quite happy and proud of being one.

Saturday, January 9, 2021


I recently came across with this photo, apparently of Delores Del Rio and Lloyd Hughes playing a game of Tic Tac Toe on Rita Carewe’s back during filming High Steppers (1926). An unusual shot, to say the least.

It reminded me of a fantasy I have had for years and which I know I will never get to live out. It may not be the most common one there is, but I will share it with you nevertheless. A fantasy of being a canvas.

Since this turned out a longer piece than I originally planned, and the plot led to many things not originally part of my fantasy, I am posting it here on my blog instead of Bdsmlr.   

In my fantasy I am naked or dressed only in my trademark knee-high black and pink striped socks. I have just been brought somewhere blindfolded and handcuffed. After both are removed, I see I'm in a room in which there are a dozen or so young women present. Maybe more. 

There is a huge, king-size bed in the room and I am ordered to go and lie on my back in the middle of it. Without saying a word the women get on the bed as well, armed with ballpoint pens and black markers. Silently they all start to write on me.

I know the women have the liberty to write on me anything they want. The little notes can be about me, but they can just be things they find amusing, or want the world the know. I have no option but to lie there, and let the young women work on me.

At first they do it without saying a word, but gradually the women start giggling and talking to each other, commenting on what they either are writing or should write on me. None of them are addressing me, however. I am only a canvas for them, nothing more.

Gradually my whole body from knees up gets covered in small humorous notes. Knees, thighs, hips, tummy, chest, sides, arms, hands, every part of my body. Only place they don't touch is the genitals. After all, my limp penis and testicles isn't much of a canvas.

After all of the space on my front side is used, I am ordered to lie on my belly, and the women continue their work on the clean canvas my backside offers. Now and then I hear women walking in and out of the door, as more of them arrive to leave their notes.

Finally I am ordered on my back again and then to spread my legs. I do it and lay on my back, feeling a bit like a woman at a gynecologist. Silently two of the women sit between them and start writing on my inner thighs. After they're done, more women come and make use of the unused space on my legs. Only place they still don't touch are my genitals.

While this happens, the rest of the women start going over other parts of my body, making sure there isn't a single spot they missed, including places like my armpits. There are so many young women eagerly at work around me I feel a dog who has just given birth to a litter of puppies. 

At this point I notice the music coming outside the room, and realize there seems to be a some sort of party going on. This also explains why the women seem to be getting more and more uninhibited as the night progresses.

As a proof of this I suddenly notice a one of them walking next to me. And then, without saying a word, she gets on the bed, swings her leg over me, and before I understand what is happening I feel her crotch on my face.

I hear several comments, but since my both ears are now covered by her legs it is hard for me to make out what they say. I feel the backside on my face moving and trying to find a better position, and I feel my nose sliding between the ass cheeks, while the pussy lips press to mine.

I understand what I'm expected to and I start licking. A moment later I am rewarded by a low moan, and I hear the young women cheering. She starts to move herself back and forth, and I do my best to keep my tongue working hard.

As this happens I still feel the sharp points of ballpoint pens and markers on my skin. Even though it is hard for me to imagine there is any free space left. I try not to notice it however, and concentrate solely on the vagina grinding itself on my face.

I keep my tongue at work, and finally I feel the woman sitting on me shudder a few times. I feel her breathing hard, staying motionless for few moments, and then getting off me. I have only a few moments to enjoy the fresh air, before a second crotch appears from somewhere and lands on my face. 

This is repeated over and over, and there is a seemingly endless row of vaginas on my face, all in need of my tongue. As time passes there are fewer and fewer scribbling sensations on my skin. Finally I realize, as yet another backside lifts itself from my face, there isn't a next one coming.

I breath in deep as I look at the ceiling, and gradually become aware of the women speaking around me. They all seem to be agreeing every square inch of my skin has finally been used, and not a single note would fit there anymore.

I hear a loud woman's voice in the next room, apparently asking whether there is still anyone who would like to make use of my mouth. Nothing happens, however and the next thing I realize is several young women getting on the bed again, one on my each side.

Suddenly there is a moist towel on my face, and I have to close my eyes. My face is being wiped in less than gentle manner, after which there is a feeling of some sort of antiseptic tissue. I hear two women commenting on the mess on my face as they work both sides of it.

After they are done, I keep my eyes shut for a few moments. Nothing happens and I feel only their movements on the bed. Finally I open my eyes, only to see the women leaning above me, both with a black marker raised in the air.

I close my eyes quickly, and a moment later feel the tip of the marker touch my cheek. Then there's one on my other cheek, and I hear the women chuckling to each other as they work. I do my best to stay completely motionless, and then feel a tip touching my forehead as well.

I have no idea what they are writing on my face, but based on their laughter and comments it seems to be something extremely amusing. This takes a while, but finally they seem to be happy with their work and I am ordered to stand up.

I am brought to another, much larger room, filled with young women as well. The music is turned down a bit, and the women surround me once more, this time not to write, but to read what has been written on me.

I stand there, as eager and curious eyes go over every inch of my body. Whenever anyone finds something particularly funny on me, she reads it aloud, and the women burst out laughing. 

Some of the women are peering with a sly smile on their lips at my face or chest, while others are kneeling and going over things they find on my hips and thighs. Some are behind me reading my back as well as butt cheeks.

Occasionally the women lift my arms higher and twist them to see better what had been written around them or in my armpits. Every time I keep the arm in place until someone moves it again. They also grab my ass and other parts of my body, as they find something particularly hilarious and want to point it to someone.

After the women had gotten enough fun, I am left alone and the party around me continues. I stand there like a party decoration. Occasionally I am approached by groups of women, commenting to each other on something written on me.

Occasionally, if it's a single woman in question, she may stay quite a while at me, reading me without saying a word and sipping her drink at the same time. Never before I have felt this much a piece of art. 

At some point the music is turned off and the women start finishing their drinks, clearly getting ready go somewhere. Someone puts a blindfold and a collar on me, and my hands are cuffed behind my back again. 

A moment later I feel a tug and I am led outside of the apartment. At this point my fantasy is unclear. Either I am taken to a parking basement or through a parking lot outside and then put to a trunk of the car.

The women could also decide to walk me behind them through busy streets. It is a warm summer night after all, so I don't freeze, but is hard for me not to imagine what the people we pass must think.

Finally we arrive to our destination. I am led into what I realize to be a loud night club. Still blindfolded it is hard for me to keep track what's happening, other than I am being walked around the night club for the rest of the night.

Occasionally the women I have arrived to the club with pass me around, allowing as many women as possible a chance to lead me. Each of them naturally is more than eager to show off their handiwork, and I feel both gazes as well as hands on my skin all through the night.

Gradually the women in charge of me get more and more drunk though, and what would happen to a dummy mascot at a sorority party, inevitably happens to me, and I am forgotten somewhere.

After that it won't take long for me to feel the first rough male hands on my body, feeling me like a piece of meat. My genitals that have been neglected all night finally get attention as well, and I feel several hands feeling them up. Everybody seem to be amused how small and limp I am.

It doesn't take very long for me to be made to kneel somewhere either. Or to hear the sound of a zipper and to feel a cock shoved in my mouth. A few moments later there is a pair of hands on my back as well, feeling my ass and then spreading my cheeks open. Soon there's a feeling of incredibly big, hard cock forcing its way dry inside my virgin ass.

I howl out loud, an equally hard cock inside my mouth, and then even louder as the cock inside my anus starts to move back and forth. This doesn't do much more than generates laughter from the men surrounding me. I feel the man behind my grabbing my hips and starting to pound me harder.

After doing this the rest of the night, and losing count several times how many cocks there had been inside me, I am abandoned again. The reason for that is clear, as the music stops and I realize people are starting to leave the club.

Finally I hear a couple of women's voices approaching, and I vaguely recognize them as the women who brought me here.

"Oh... there it is", I hear one of them say in labored voice. "God I'm so drunk. Look, could you take it outside?"

The other replies, sounding almost as drunk as her friend. I feel a tug on the leash and I'm pulled to my feet again. 

On the sidewalk outside there's an insane commotion, as a night club full of people are sorting whatever they had been in the middle of inside. 

Based on the sounds I am again surrounded by the women I had arrived there with, but they seem very uninterested in me now. Mostly they are worried about getting enough cabs for them all. 

There is nothing else for me to do than stand there and enjoy the night air, now slightly chillier than few hours before.

I hear the sounds of cars pulling over and people getting into them. Then, quite suddenly, the blindfold is taken off, and I am watching eye to eye to a beautiful blonde in a cocktail dress.

"There we go", she says in a surly voice, clearly trying to act more sober than she actually is. Then she looks at me smiling.

"Well then", she says smiling, and continues in a slightly labored manner. "I hope this was as fun for you than it was for us."

She turns around and joins her friends getting on a cab standing next to the sidewalk. A moment before the cab full of drunken girls drive away she waves at me from the open window.

"Run along now! Ta-ta!"

I just stand there, looking around and realizing I still have the cuffs on.

Tuesday, July 28, 2020


I recently made a post on Bdsmlr based on a video I had seen somewhere during one of my edging marathons. In the video there was a woman doing some ruined orgasm torture on a man while at the same time having clothespins attached on his nipples, making the whole procedure more painful for him.

I published a screen cap of the video in question with a little description. The thing is, I had done something similar on my own some time earlier. Since the post in question got nice amount of reblogs I will share my experience here as well. I hope you will find it informative, or at least amusing.

My setup differed somewhat from the one I had seen on the video. As you all know, I'm a pain freak, and have been doing nipple torture all my life. While I'm masturbating or edging pain on erogenous area is highly arousing, at least if I'm turned on enough. The more it hurts the better.

However, many times the act of adjusting the pins on my nipples, or pressing them so that they would hurt more, takes time from the edging. Therefore I had been thinking for quite a while how to combine those two. Would there be a way to actively torture my nipples and masturbate at the same time? Finally I came up with an idea I thought would solve that problem.

In my setup I was sitting at my computer and I had two nasty plastic clothespins on my nipples. This time however there was a string that went through both of the pins, with me holding the ends. Every time I tugged my penis the pins would pull painfully on my nipples. Or at least that was the idea. 

As is the case with all great inventions it took some time to perfect the procedure. It turned out to be quite difficult to keep the strings tight enough for my tugs to hurt my nipples properly. Having the string wrapped around my wrist and then through my palm seemed to work the best.

The other challenge was to prevent myself from cumming too fast. The thing is, this technique brought me to the edge way too quickly, and I naturally wanted it to last as long as possible. It turned put I had to take pauses once every 30 seconds, for my body to calm down and steady my breathing before I could continue.

Once in a while a pin would snap off, after which I naturally put it back again and continued. This happened several times and the more close I got the more difficult it was to get them back on, due to my hands shaking too much. Both the pin snapping off and putting it back on hurt like hell, but like I said, at that point the more it hurt the better. 

At one point I realized I need to end it, and decided a perfect way to do it would be having a ruined orgasm in front of my full body mirrors. After all, I wanted it to be as humiliating as possible for me. So I got up, walked to the other room and faced my two mirrors from which I can watch myself from two sides at the same time.

As I was looking my completely naked form I realized how pathetic I already looked. I had this weird, a bit glazed and out of this world sort of look in my eyes that masturbation gives me. There was my ridiculous naked form, topped with the two clothespins on my nipples, and the string attaching them and my wrist together, forcing me to lead forward a bit.

I was too horny to look at my mirror image for long, however and started pulling my limp penis. While at the same time looking myself deep into my own eyes, and observing the extremely ridiculous expressions on my face. It never seizes to amaze me how silly I look when I masturbate. 

At his point my tugs were so forceful they snapped the pins off my nipples several times. I put them back every time before continuing, even though my hands were now shaking more than ever. Finally however, I realized I had taken this as far as I could and it was time to ruin my orgasm.

I picked up the pace, started to pull my limp penis as sharply as I could in order for my nipples to hurt as much as possible, while at the same time looking deep into my own eyes. When I knew I was after point of no return I let go, dropped my hand, and a few moments later felt the wave of orgasm wash over me, and then felt tiny amount of cum dribbling on the floor out of my limp penis. 

I still kept my eyes on my face, and merely examined my own expressions, and the fact how demented my half open mouth made me look. I also enjoy completely ignoring my own orgasm completely, and not even looking at my penis as it happens makes it feel all more humiliating and futile.

This time around however the usual post orgasmic drop, the feeling of shame and self loathing felt much worse. As I was taking the pins off I understood now how insane it had all been, as I saw in what state my nipples now were. My face was red, my heart was racing and I felt totally spent.

For obvious reasons I haven't done this again, no matter how hot it felt at the time. The thing is, even though I have tortured my nipples most of my life, this time around it took them ages to recover. But I must say it was worth it.

As I'm watching my cum ban calendar now I realize that must have been my latest orgasm, and one that took place over fifty days already. It seems it's true what they say. How time flies when you're not having fun.

In case you're interested, the Bdsmlr version of this post can be found at:

Reblogs are always appreciated.

Monday, June 1, 2020


The summer is here, finally. After the long, cold corona spring it's almost hard to believe it. For me lockdown and the quarantine period has meant being a indoors a lot, which in turn has meant I start my days and often also end them by masturbating. Or rather, edging.

Naturally, we're not on 100% lockdown anymore. During the past couple of weeks or so, especially if it has been a beautiful and sunny day, I have even ventured do to downtown a couple of times. This has been quite a big step for me, after I have avoided all social contacts and public places for over two months.

These short trips to outside have, however, been almost traumatizing for me. The thing is, during the long, dark and cold winter I always forget what an ordeal summer can be for a leg fetishist like me. It's one thing to edge to something at home, a whole another is to see the same on a street and try to keep your cool. I guess being outside as little as possible is a blessing for me.   

Beginning my days by masturbating is a very natural thing to, because like most people I am the horniest at mornings. As you all know, I am impotent and I have erections only when I'm asleep, just before I start to wake up. However, as soon as I get up, the erection is gone under less than a minute.

That moment though, as I'm slowly waking up and realizing I have an raging erection, is extremely enjoyable and puts my libido immediately in overdrive. Quite often whatever dream I happen to have at that point, becomes erotic, even though nothing sexual doesn't take place in it. It's hard to explain.

I'm not always hard at mornings, but if I sleep for example bottomless, the chances for it happening increase by tenfold. Therefore I try to sleep naked as often as possible, which isn't very often if you live in a country like Finland. Basically only time you can do this without catching a cold, is during our extremely short summer.

When the summer does arrive, like right now, I try spend as much of it naked as possible, the nights as well as the days. Not only does it ensure waking up turned on, but it also makes masturbating and touching oneself all through the day wonderfully easy. Even when I'm watching television for example, I have a habit of playing with my testicles and limp penis at the same time.

Sometimes I may put on a short skimpy skirt, or a nice top, if I want to feel pretty, but if it's warm enough, even those pieces of clothing make me feel suffocated. Bear in mind, that is "warm enough" in the Finnish scale. Apparently what we call a summer is spring in some parts of USA. If I lived somewhere that warm, I guess I'd be naked 365 days of the year.

Being able to walk around in my apartment totally naked the whole day long is a wonderful feeling. Many times when I pass a full body mirror, which I have many in my apartment, I stop, and watch my body from all sides. Long legs, shapely backside, ridiculously small penis and testicles, round belly, hairless chest, feminine arms, full luscious lips and the long hair, one I have grown out almost three years soon.

This all sounds sexy, but truth to tell, I have always had problems with my mirror image, especially when it comes to my face. For years I tried not to look into a mirror unless it was absolutely necessary, because I felt I didn't know the person who looked back at me. I felt the "real me" was behind that strange face. This has gotten easier over the years, and nowadays I can even admit being cute.

However, my naked body is another matter entirely. One could say I have always made a distinction between my "sexual me" and my "real life me". The sexual me is the slut on-line, which is the place where 99% of my sex life has taken place. The real life me on the other hand is the respectable part of myself, the persona I let the world around me see.

Therefore doing anything sexual in front of a mirror, masturbating or just caressing one's naked body, or just being there, has always been very difficult, almost painful to me. It means two worlds colliding, like someone had photoshopped my head to a naked body, one doing unspeakable things to itself. If I had a shrink, he would have a lot to say about this.

The act of subjecting myself to my own naked mirror image is in fact a form of self torture. Every time I pass a mirror or go stand before one I feel extremely uneasy, and I have a need to turn away. I don't let myself to do so though, and force myself to watch. If I feel extremely uneasy, I may even masturbate a bit, just to see the look on my own face.

The most extreme way of humiliating myself is naturally to have an actual ejaculation in front of the mirror. I have described this in one of my earlier blog posts, so I won't go into it much further now. Let's just say the act of forcing oneself to have a ruined orgasm while you're standing naked in front of a mirror, examining the expressions on your own face as you feel the orgasm sweep over you, and hearing the cum dribbling to the floor from your flaccid clit, is an extremely humiliating experience. 

For this exact reason, because seeing myself doing sexual things is as humiliating as it is, the masturbating technique involving my wanking mirrors, is all about watching my chest, hand and the groin area as I masturbate, never ever the face. Or at least, to do that I have to be in an extremely perverted state of mind, or have someone on-line to order me to tilt the mirrors in such an angle I have to look my own face as I masturbate on my computer. 

Seeing my own naked body all through the day from full body mirrors is also a painful reminder to me that no matter how I feel inside, my body is that of a male. My chest or hips aren't that of a woman, nor will they ever be. Neither is my belly or any other part of my body. And when I pull my clit, I see a male masturbating himself in front of a mirror and looking incredibly stupid.   

Sometimes, if I don't have anywhere to be, I don't bother putting anything on for days, therefore exposing myself to my own mirror image for the better part of the week. Being naked for that long also makes me feel wonderfully pathetic. No normal person spends three days in a row totally naked in one's apartment. If the doorbell rings I can always slip into my coral bathrobe.

One piece of clothing I often make an exception with are my long, striped knee high socks. I have lots of them, in various colours, and it's been several years I have used any other kind. Passing the mirror with nothing except them on is even more mixed experience than doing it completely naked. Even though I look male, it is clear I am not a man either. If I'm something, I'm a slutty sissy.

It is not an exaggeration to say I have fetish to my own sexuality, if that sort of thing is possible. And since the best way to have an intimate connection with your own sexuality is through masturbation, I try to do it as much as humanely possible. What usually makes me so eager to get out of the bed each morning is the chance to start edging.

The first thing I do every morning is to get my computer open, and in a matter of less than few minutes, I am already sitting in front of it, still half asleep and wiping my eyes, and pulling my limp clit furiously, and trying to regain some of the horniness I just experienced.

Sometimes I don't even do my morning pee before I start to masturbate, especially if the need to pee had been a bad one, since a full bladder makes me extremely horny. Again, I have explained my fetish to that practice in one of my earlier blog posts.

There's just something magical in those early morning moments, even without bladder torture involved. It's so wonderful to just sit there half asleep and relaxed, completely naked, legs spread, and enjoying the feeling of having my limp clit between my thumb and the forefinger and pulling it eagerly. It all feel so good and so right.

I know it sounds odd, but at those times I also feel wonderfully feminine. To be precise, not only feminine, but inexplicably girly. Perhaps it's being still half asleep, perhaps it's the fact I'm spreading my legs like a slut, perhaps it's because I don't have a hard cock inside my fist but a small, limp, soft clit between my two fingers. It's difficult to say.

Many times this feeling also makes me want to caress my body as I edge. I usually start from my knees, then slide my palm over my hairless thighs and over my equally hairless belly and chest. I often stop there for a while, to play with my nipples, rolling them between my fingers, as well as pinching and pulling them hard.

I also like to let out small squeals, moans and sighs as I do this. Not grunts like men, but deep, relaxed sighs. Finally I push my fingers deep into my hair, marveling how long and thick it has already become, before lifting some of on the top of my head, while at the same time pulling my clit continually. Often this is all I need to make or keep myself turned on.

Even though I used the words "early morning", I don't get up from the bed until at ten the earliest. This is partly because a good morning erection makes me want to stay in bed and enjoy it as long as possible. My morning wank usually takes about four hours. I don't cum, of course, but little by little the magic fades away. Around two I usually get up and have my breakfast, with a great master plan to get something worthwhile done after it.

Usually this great master plan fails in a momentous way, thanks to everything I have told you earlier. Due to the lockdown I have no place to go, and absent-minded playing with myself leads easily to edging session after another, separated only by short naps when I'm too exhausted to edge anymore, or need to cool down, in order to be able to continue in a little while.

Fortunately, my limp clit seems to be able to withstand insane amounts of edging without any ill effects. We're taking about ten to fifteen hours a day, easily. In fact, whenever I manage to edge my clit long and hard enough to make it feel sore afterwards, it merely adds to the feeling. That is how a wanker's penis should feel, after all.

Saturday, March 7, 2020


I came across yesterday with an excellent post on Fetlife about female supremacy. About how the violent competitiveness men naturally posses have become a burden to civilization and how world now need the qualities women have. How that will lead men losing their power in the coming years, and how that will be a good thing. 

There was also a lot in the text about how this change is something submissive men should further. They should actively to find practical ways to help hasten the coming matriarchy. That includes voting women candidates and seeking ways to promote women in all areas of life. Submissive men should understand they are on the forefront of the coming change. 

The post really struck a chord in me, since I couldn't have agreed more with it. Men are aggressive, destructive and conflict driven whereas women usually posses more empathy, co-operation skills and intelligence. This is why I have been estranged from my assigned gender more and more as the years have gone by. The qualities the mankind as a whole and most men have are something I don't identify with the least bit. 

In fact, the word "man" is something I have always had trouble with. Nowadays the way I see it, is that being a male is an unfortunate biological fact I cannot do nothing about. But being a man is more than anything a social construct and something I don't have anything to do with. I am a male, but I refuse being a man.  

It is true not all women are better than men or posses the qualities mentioned earlier. Even some men have those qualities and as such have certain value. Still, as a whole womankind is superior to mankind, and would do much better being in charge in our society. I have recently seen it happen in my home country Finland.

The writer also envisioned some practical ideas on how to make this all possible. I feel that in a perfect world we would have more strict gender quotas, restrictions when it comes to applying for a political office, who knows some day even limits on voting rights. Above all, males should be encouraged to give the lead to women, both in their personal lives as well as in the society in general.

I have tried to further that goal all my life in terms of who I vote. I have voted in every political elections ever since I was turned 18 and I have always voted, if all possible, a candidate who is young and a woman. At first they were women of my own age, now I'm voting women half my age or less. Because that is where the future is.

The world needs to change, and it is changing. I do hope we are on the way towards a world where women will be the ruing class. The change is happening as we speak, on all areas of life and in the society. I merely fear there are too many destructive, reactionary forces working against that goal.

I also feel that the way lesbianism has been spreading like wildfire among young women especially is a sign of the changing times. More and more young women start their sexual experiments with women and never look back. I have observed this progress with great enthusiasm. The more women discover lesbianism the better.

Young men in general are far more inhibited by the patriarchal stereotype, and afraid of the gay stigma, making the male gender the loser in this case, as well. Therefore it is not surprising the most vocal opposing forces to this progress come from male groups many of which are openly misogynistic.   

Naturally there was criticism as well in the comment section, stating that only the submissive men "with their hands on their tiny boy parts" seem to genuinely support all this, and that even to them it is nothing more than a sexual kink, and something they have nothing to show for, when it comes to their actions.  

It is true most men who feel this way are sexually submissive, and the thrill an idea of a women led world gives us is as much a sexual one as it is an intellectual one. In my case, however, I cannot separate my sexuality from my thinking in general. I am turned on about the idea of a a women led world, but I truly do believe it would be a better world. 

As some of you know I myself am not unfamiliar with a subject of women led world as a sexual fantasy. Some time ago I wrote a piece, a sort of origin story to my kind of ideal world concept I came up with years ago. It is naturally only fantasy, and it includes some rather outlandish ideas, but some of you may still be interested reading it. 

Personally, I would like to think being submissive and fetishes like FLR, chastity and practices which concentrate solely on the woman's orgasm becoming mainstream among men is a sign of the changing times. That mankind in general or at least parts of it are becoming more acceptable about women being in charge. Perhaps it is not, but I hope it is.

Saturday, January 4, 2020


Life is curious sometimes. Things that have happened quite recently can give you way more stress than they should. Some things that did so years ago can come back like a blast from the past, and put you to a trip to the memory lane, as the saying goes. 

My second and by far the hottest ex has recently started to hang out at the same place as I do, after seven years of absence. Even though she left me in ruins, seeing her again on weekly basis has been surprisingly easy for me. Apparently sometimes time does heal all wounds.

It has, however, led to some rather interesting situations. A quite recently she told people she has this weird thing about certain numbers. For example, she cannot stop a microwave oven unless they appear on the amount of time that's left. We all have our own peculiarities.

What made the situation interesting for me was that fact I remember quite vividly a certain play session of ours during which she did allow me to cum, but wanted me to do it at a certain time. If I failed to cum during that minute I would have had to wait five or ten minutes to get the next chance.

This sort of thing, me cumming in front of her that is, didn't take place very often. In fact I remember only couple of those instances. I didn't insist it, and I much rather spent my time with my face buried to her crotch instead. She knew how much I loved eating her out, and according to her I was pretty good at it too.

I guess I felt already at that point that my pleasure and orgasms are secondary to those of the woman of my life. This preference of mine matched perfectly with her, as did many other fetishes. She was the first woman who had no problems whatsoever of watching me masturbate in front of her, among many other things. 

She was also one of the first persons who got me into chastity play. Generally I was free to cum as much as I liked, and quite often this took place during our chat sessions on-line. My girlfriend had a healthy libido, and our chat sessions were rather steamy. Quite often we ended up both masturbating during them, she with her phone in her hand, and me at home in front of my computer.

One time, however, she got the idea I shouldn't cum until we saw each other in a few days time. I have described the conversation in one of my earlier posts, so I won't go into detail here. Let's just say what followed was a quite an emotional roller-coaster, especially considering I ended up being denied a whole week for her. 

This all took place later, however. At the time my girlfriend requested for me to cum at a exact time I was used to cumming daily. I did consider, however, whether I should consciously postpone my orgasm. Therefore I could have gotten five, ten or fifteen minutes more of me masturbating my limp clit in front of her, with her teasing and taunting me about it. Ultimately I didn't, which I still regret. 

At the time I finally let ejaculate spurt from my limp penis, with my girlfriend smirking at me, victorious and apparently also pleased about my obedience and punctuality, I wasn't sure whether she was bullshitting me. But apparently she wasn't. It seems she does have a thing with certain numbers.

I am 100% certain my ex doesn't remember that particular instance anymore, but I sure do, and it was very hard for me not to silently smile while she was telling everyone her little microwave story. If only they had known...