Thursday, June 8, 2017

8.6.2017

It has now been exactly one hundred days since I last let myself cum. Therefore I thought this would be a good opportunity for a little contemplation. What does it mean for me to be denied, and how I see myself as a sexual being?

Quite frankly, when I managed to end my cumming spree in the end of February this year, I could have never, in my wildest dreams believe I could reach hundred days again. I just wanted to be able to make myself stop cumming, at least for a while.

During the prior three months I had let myself cum over thirty times, and it had started to lose meaning for me. I just wanted to be denied. I wanted my ejaculation to be special again, something they had been when I hadn't cummed for months or years. Something unattainable, unreachable, almost mythical.

I didn't want cumming to be merely a thing I know I would do after a masturbation session. In fact, I hated how boring and predictable my cumming had become. I wanted to change that, even if it meant denying myself orgasms again. I needed to be denied. And I knew the only person who would want to deny me, really want to deny me, was me.

And here we are, one hundred days later. During that time I have tried to edge daily. Not only do I love it, I do it also to keep my libido alive. It seems this has been a very successful strategy, since I'm nowadays constantly horny. Sexual things occupy my thoughts most part of the day, and the best thing I know is to be able to sit in front of my computer pulling my limp penis, knowing no matter how horny I get, will not let myself cum.

Like most of the readers of my blog know, my record of being denied is 497 days, so hundred days is nothing new to me. In fact, I have noticed that the longer I am without an orgasm, the harder it gets to end the chastity. The prospect of having to cum becomes something scary, making it easier just to continue.

I remember one time when I was closing a similar milestone and was talking about it with a real life female friend of mine on a chat, whether I should cum or not. "I think you will continue", she said. "I know you. You like playing it safe, and to continue not to cum is the safest thing to do." How well she knew me.

When I slipped in the beginning of last December, ending a 374 day cumless period, it was a genuine accident. But it led me to stop the "chastity foolishness", as I called it then. After all, I had been on and off in cum bans since 2013. That's enough chastity for anyone, right?

However, I soon realized the months and years of being denied had changed me. I noticed I had difficulties starting to cum regularly again. Not physically, but mentally. I had become so addicted to the sweet torment of being denied, that cumming regularly felt unnatural. It felt something I shouldn't be doing. It felt too good, something I had no rights to. And, I felt I still needed a woman's permission to cum.

As all the faithful readers of my blog know, I have even come up a word to describe what I am now: a chastisexual. Someone who gets erotic enjoyment out of being forbidden to cum. As far as I can see, chastisexuality seems to be very common among submissive men, but there didn't seem to be a word for it.

Some time ago I participated in a conversation on a fetish site about long term psychological effects to a submissive male, and overall redundancy of male orgasm. The point of the conversation being, if a submissive male gets emotional and physical torment it needs from not being allowed to cum, making him fall deeper and deeper into submission, is there really a need to let him cum at all?

My view to the matter is of course the submissive's one. The way I see it, the  longer one is being denied, the more into submission we fall, and the more not cumming becomes an integral part of our sexuality. It changes how we see ourselves as sexual beings, as we realize how much we actually need to be denied. How good and natural it feels we don't have a right to our own bodies.

The need to cum is always there, of course, but it's the desperation of not being allowed to cum is what gives it a meaning. The need to cum is the fuel, but the act of being denied it the actual engine that runs our libido. The more horny we become, the more frustrated we become. and the more frustrated we become, the more horny we become. 

And the longer this continues, the more it changes the way we think and see ourselves sexually. As we understand that cumming or orgasming isn't actually necessary for us to be content sexual beings. That being allowed to ejaculate isn't even good for us.

From a personal point of view a thinking like that creates a problem of sorts, of course. More specifically, romantic wise. What if I still wanted a relationship? What if I wanted to find happiness with a woman, to love and to be loved in return?  What are the odds I find someone who would understand me, and my way of expressing my sexuality?

Not only the woman in question would have to accept we wouldn't be able to have penetrative sex due to the fact my penis doesn't get erect in sexual situations, she would also have to be open-minded enough to take control of my orgasms, which I would gladly give over to her, of course.

I admit this is something I do find problematic. There is a need in me to find someone I could make happy, do nice things to, someone I could please and pleasure sexually. But at the same time I have found it very difficult to even thinking about approaching a woman in romantic manner anymore.

In other words, I can't help but to wonder whether my chastisexuality will doom me into being single and alone for the rest of my life. I am very comfortable around women, and they are comfortable around me. I am not bad looking, and I know how to make them laugh.

At the same time I realize it requires that extra effort, for two people to become something more than just very good friends, something which in our society is still a man's responsibility. And when one considers all I have said here, I doubt very much whether I will be able making that extra effort.

On the other hand, as long as I have no one in my life there isn't outer pressure to act certain way, or expectations to live up to. There is no one telling me how I should be expressing my sexuality.  There is no one I have to justify myself to. 

In other words there is no one saying what I do is isn't normal. No one saying there is something wrong masturbating as much as I do. No one saying man is meant to cum, or that feeling you're not entitled to have orgasms is twisted.

There's just me, and my limp penis I can pull as much as I want. And my testicles I can keep denied as long as I want.