7.6.2016

A couple of weeks ago I got to celebrate full six months of total chastity with my Queen. This is the first time since 2013 I have gotten this far. Six months with no masturbating, no edging, nothing. In this time my Queen on the other hand has had over 70 orgasms. Reaching the six months milestone gave me and my Queen a chance to spend three days together, and what three days they were.

I want to warn you beforehand that this will be a long post, the longest one yet. There have been couple on instances I have been able to cut my blog posts in several parts, but in this time there seemed to be no way to do it. Also, I wanted to document all in as detailed way as possible, to remember it myself.

Also, unfortunately I have to add that even though the weekend was amazing, the things didn't continue that way. As I sort of expected, the following week the old monsters rose their heads again, and some other unfortunate things have taken place as well, which has been a cold shower to my amorous feelings. That is also the reason why it has taken me this long to write this post. But for now, let us return to the good days.   

My Queen arrived on Saturday and since it was such a warm, sunny day she wanted us to go and spend some time downtown. We rarely wander around on the town aimlessly together, going from shop to shop without a specific plan, which I think is a pity. I would love to go shopping with my Queen more, especially if they are clothing shops. I'm a weird male, I know.

Among other things we were looking for running shoes for both me and her. She has told me she considers starting jogging in order to lose weight, and I have suggested to her we could even do it together. However, she had said she'd like hers to be something else than pink. On the other hand I would want mine to be pink, since it would encourage me to use them more.

This proved to be a bit more troublesome than we had anticipated, since it turned out the brightly coloured women's running shoes run out of sizes around 42, which is my foot size, and the men's sizes are all dull black and grey. I found it very depressing to realize our society so strict when it comes to gender roles that even running shoes have to be divided by gender. 

Finally I found a pair that fit me, were affordable and pink, but the salesgirl didn't recommend them for running. The more suitable ones on the other hand were way out of my price league. So I was left without my bright pink running shoes. However, my Queen did find a nice pair for herself (they were black and bright green, if you're interested).

Still, it was a nice shopping trip and we managed to do some window shipping as well. Among other things I saw a pair of... well, heavenly red pumps I wanted so bad. Not only were they shiny, but they were... well, there's no other word than "porn red" to describe them. Unfortunately they were also out of my league when it comes to price.

We returned to my place and prepared a meal for ourselves which we ate at my balcony. This led us again into a subject I could open up a bit, to explain the differences between us.

The thing is, having fancy dinners with her is something I have wanted for us to put more effort into for some time now. However, this is one of the many things our preferences really don't seem to click. Or rather, where gender roles between us seem to go vice versa.   

You know what I mean by a fancy meal: you buy something you cook or prepare for yourself, maybe buy a bottle of wine that goes well with it, lit a candle, dim the lights, put on a clean shirt, have a nice conversation while you have your dinner and become slightly tipsy. 

What my Queen doesn't seem to understand is what is the point of spending a lot of time making something you eat in an instant. I have tried to explain to her, and explained again on the balcony, that the point is to prepare it together and to enjoy it together, without a rush.

Also, my Queen seems to think that drinking only a small amount of alcohol, for example a bottle of wine with fine meal, is a waste. Why not drink more, or nothing at all? Sometimes my Queen is such a Finnish male idiot, a thing I have told her numerous times.

Yes, I need to explain the idea of "a romantic candle lit dinner" to my girlfriend. I said I'm a strange male. 

The main event for that day, however, took place that night and begun with some unpacking of some very special packages.

Like I have described earlier in this blog, lately we have started to experiment a bit with feminization. My Queen has confessed to me she's more into women than men, and therefore I have wanted for her to feel she has not only a boyfriend but also a girlfriend in me.

Some time ago we had played with makeup and some of her clothes, and discussed about what my female version, "Paula" would look like when it comes to hair. Afterwards I went on-line and started to look for a suitable wig. 

Finally, after I had consulted with my Queen I had made the purchase, as well as bought some other toys, and the packages arrived in a matter of couple of weeks. However, due to our tight schedules we hadn't managed to put aside a sufficient amount of time to open them together, until now.

We opened the package with the wig in it, but before we could put it on me we had to make me ready otherwise as well. In fact I think this was the first time we did cross-dressing properly.

First my Queen told me to undress and go to the bathroom as she took out the hair removal cream. We had done it once before, so I knew what was coming. Previously we had done it at her place, but since I have a more spacious bathroom we could now do it properly. Above all I wanted to get rid of also the hair around my genitalia.

After I had showered the cream off my Queen shave my chin properly and then proceeded by painting my nails ruby red and continuing with makeup, lipstick, eyeliners and everything. Again my Queen told me how envious she is of my full. luscious lips. Then came the underwear with a pair of socks as boobs and finally a dark blue dress.

All the while this took place there was no mirror around so I couldn't see myself. Inside I was still the "male me". Therefore I was a bit surprised what took place as my Queen put the black wig on me. She adjusted it and said: "Wow...". I could see the look in her eyes, almost as if there was now someone in front of her she didn't know. 

As I asked her what did she think I looked like she took a pause and said: "Curious. I see a woman, but she has my boyfriend's voice."

When she finally took me where I could see the mirror from the corner of my eye I understood what she meant. As I looked at the image, I couldn't see it clearly without my glasses, but it looked... an unknown woman.

When I finally went to the mirror I looked at my reflection for a long time. I wasn't freaked out, but I admit it was strange. It was a woman, but in the same time it was... me. I knew if I went outside in broad daylight anyone could see I was a man in a dress. However, by some weird way I had been transformed into something I could identify as a woman.

After a while being "Paula" started to feel more and more natural to me, and I even joked at some point, looking at the images of both of us in the mirror, that it looked like there was now two women in my apartment and I wasn't nowhere around.

I mentioned to my Queen that after all her work it would be a shame not to document it, and asked whether she would like to take some photos of me. She liked the idea and for what must have been almost an hour she took photos of me with my camera and told me how she would like me to pose. 

I liked posing for her more than I had thought possible. Or to be exact, more than I would have liked if it had been the male me. It felt that as a woman it wasn't no longer me, the male me I mean. I felt sexy, something I had never felt as a male. 

In fact I think if the photo shoot had continued long enough I may have ended up doing some really naughty poses. I felt so sexy I wanted to express it as well. It truly was something I got to experience first time in my life.

However, before things got that far my Queen said she would want to take a break, and collapsed on the bed next to me. After all, it had been a long day for both of us. Soon she said she was falling asleep, and that she would like to go to bed. 

I had had no specific plans what to do as "Paula", or no idea what my Queen wanted to do with her girlfriend, only some vague ideas based on our previous experiments. However, going almost straight to bed wouldn't have been my first guess.   

I wasn't disappointed, but I did feel sorry for all the work my Queen had put into me and making me "Paula". I even said to her I would like to go to bed with full gear on, including makeup and the wig, but ultimately my Queen talked me out of it.

Even though I enjoyed being "Paula" I did wonder whether embracing that persona was a wise thing to do. What if my Queen fells in love with Paula and doesn't want to have anything to do with the male me? These fears were laid rest the next day when my Queen admitted she had actually started to miss me, after being several hours with only Paula. I must say that made me feel good.

The next morning we even played with "Paula's" hair a bit more, and my Queen tried it on as well. The result was unexpected and I was surprised to see how much a wig can alter a person's appearance. 

With Paula's wig my long haired Queen became a round-faced kindergarten teacher, when she put my glasses on she looked like a math teacher, and when she lowered them a bit she looked like a naughty but stern secretary.

In the end, however, we both decided Paula's wig wasn't for her, and she even seemed to consider getting a different kind of wig for herself. In fact, I told her, if we had several we could even swap them. I admit I also started to wonder what would I look like as a blonde.  

The main thing in the next morning's agenda, however, was time for the phase two in our weekend: dyeing my hair. Since my natural hair colour is a dull shade of a dirt road, and to keep my grey hairs hidden, I have dyed my hair to pitch black for some years now. 

A week or so earlier I had visited a barber and had my overgrown hair cut. However, on a request from my Queen I hadn't took it quite as short as I usually do. According to my Queen the cut she had seen last spring had made me look all too male. As a compromise to my girlfriend I had promised not to cut my hair as short if she agreed to help me with the dyeing it at home. 

I had even mentioned this to the older lady who cut my hair, as I explained what I wanted. The lady looked surprised and made a comment which led me to think she must have thought it impossible for a man to be "too male".

Since the procedure of dyeing one's hair isn't very erotic or romantic I will skip it now. Let's just say I remembered again why I have let my barber to do it for some years now. It's hard to think more messy and potentially more dangerous activity for your bathroom.

The result was a success, though. My hair went from dull light brown to pitch black, or to be more precise, "cosmic blue" (at least according to Mr. Schwartzkopf). My Queen seemed happy with the result, as well, since she likes me black haired, as well as this shade in particular. 

Unfortunately no one has made a single comment about the color so far, even though it's been over a couple of weeks now. I have wondered whether my friends would have been more comfortable saying how fabulous my new hair looks like if I had been I woman. I hate being a man.

The previous day I had suggested to my Queen it would be fun to have a very quick picnic, partly due to project I won't go into now. A river runs through a town I live in and the grassy riversides are a very popular place for people to spend warm summer days. 

My Queen liked the idea so we went out, me in my new pitch black hair and had a very quick picnic by the riverside. I must say it felt good. It felt like being an actual couple, having a picnic, among all the other actual couples. After all the crap we had lately went through a little thing like that can mean so much.

After we had returned to my place and had dinner I put the sauna on. The fact I have sauna in my apartment in Finland is a bit like having a jacuzzi somewhere else. It's a bit of luxury, even though a luxury many people have. I get to use my sauna way too little so I try to use it every time we have a weekend together at my place, which isn't that often.

As we were waiting for the sauna to get warm enough we started kissing and cuddling on my bed, and quickly I understood my girlfriend wanted me to do something she likes, as a return favor for all she the things she had done for me so far. Naturally I complied.

What followed was perhaps the most successful domination session I have given to her so far, at least when it comes to verbal tease and abuse. We have even joked afterwards that since I don't seem to recall what exactly was it I said, it seems it wasn't me at all, but some "dom version of me", as my Queen put it.

I began getting the wrist cuffs out. They must be the best erotic toy we have, or at least the one she enjoys them most. I shackled her to the radiator pipe next to my bed, and then proceeded to tease her all over, slowly disrobing her.  

One of the things that made the session a success may have been the fact we did things outside the bed as well. It's hard to remember what led to what anymore, but at some point she mentioned she hadn't never really used the hand held shower in my bathroom, which gave me an idea.

By that time she was already practically naked, whereas I was mostly clothed. I got up and, while holding the belt I had put on her throat, told her to follow me. As we approached the bathroom door she tried to go in first, but I tugged the belt sharply:

"Tut, tut! Not so quickly!" I said and turned her face to me. "This one requires a punishment."

Before my Queen had time to react I had given a sharp fillip (I hope that's the correct word) on her nipple, making her grimace from the pain. 

"What do you say?" I asked my Queen and she looked at me uncertain.

"I'm sorry?" she answered and I took a tighter grip from the belt and brought her face closer to my own, and said nothing, just shook my head.

"Thank you?" she said finally and was rewarded with a pat on the head. "Good girl."

Inside the bathroom I ordered her on the toilet seat and told her the position to use the shower head, listening no objections. As she started to direct it towards her anus, water with full force, I saw her smile and heard her gasping a bit: "Oh... Oh! Oh..."

After she had a bit of fun I ordered her on her feet again by pulling from the belt and directed her in the centre of the bathroom where I reached my hand between her legs. I smiled and chuckled a bit. She was dripping wet, and I'm not referring to water now. I understood how much she must have liked our little game.

After we had returned the bedroom I made her stand next to the bed. I attached her writs together again and told her to remain standing and to keep her eyes closed. Then I went to get a nice long scarf and blindfolded her with it. "See anything?" I asked and she shook her head.

I got a pair of rubber gloves and made a bit of show putting them on. I knew my Queen didn't see a thing now, but she heard me quite well, and knew what was going to happen now.

"I'm putting these on because I don't want the smell of your disgusting pussy on my fingers", I said. "You understand that?"

"Yes, I understand", she said and nodded.

"After all, who in their right mind would like that? A smell of a disgusting stupid cunt like yours."

"No one", she said.

"Is your cunt disgusting?" I said as I slid my fingers between her spread legs and heard her gasp. She nodeded. 

"No, properly" I said as I rotated my fingers. Her pussy was so slick she was almost dripping her juices to the floor.

"Yes, it is."

"No", I sighed loudly, expressing my anger and frustration. "I want you to say: My cunt is disgusting."

"My cunt i-is disgusting", my Queen said her voice shaking a bit.

Writing this down feels awful, as I remember more and more details of what came out of my mouth. No one should say things like that to a woman, no one. On the other hand I'm well aware the situation made my Queen horny as hell and she apparently enjoyed every minute of it.

Afterwards I even asked her whether what I had done been too much, too mean, or too cruel. The fact that her very sharp "No!" came almost before I had gotten the question out told me all I needed to know.  

Originally my plan was to make her cum while she was standing. I got the soft silicone dildo she had brought with her and made her suck it for a bit. I told her how bad she was at it, which was after all the truth. Finally I took it out of her mouth, put it on and started to tease her pussy with it. 

I am uncertain whether it was caused by her position, but this technique proved to be very ineffective. Therefore I discarded that idea and started to masturbate her with my skilled fingers she is very familiar with. At this point I told her I wanted her to orgasm while standing. However, even though she did her best, she had finally beg me to stop.

"I can't", she said. "I just can't."

"Okay", I said, withdrawing my hand. "No harm done. We will make you orgasm on the bed then."  

I looked at her standing next to my bed. An idea occurred to me, but I had to gather courage for a moment or two for it. Then, without a warning, I shoved her to the chest and made her fell to the bed, with me soon all over her. What doubt I may have had, disappeared as I saw my Queen smiling.

What followed then was a very intense process of masturbating my Queen to orgasm. Her hands wrists were still attached together so she had no way of to resist, something I know she loves. I continued to taunt her and calling her names I won't be able to repeat here.

At one point I teased her with the idea that I could stop at any point if I wanted to, or I might if my hands got tired. They were nowhere near tired, of course, since I had a nice position and a good technique, but it felt good to threaten her with something like that.

"Please, don't" my Queen said, legs wide, looking as she was nicely closing an orgasm. "Don't stop, please."

"Then say so", I said with a firm voice, continuing to masturbate her. "Keep saying it or I will stop."

So, for the next minute or so she kept begging me not to stop. Later on she mentioned this too was something that had felt incredibly hot. Finally I put a stop to her begging by kissing her deep and hard. I remember her lips were cold and dry from all the panting and moaning.

Ultimately she reached the orgasm she was going for. This time it was very visible and I knew when to withdraw my hand, remove the glove and took her in my arms. The next day I asked her about it, and she said there had been only one orgasm. But it had been a huge, mind-blowing one. 

Thinking about the whole thing afterwards, it's amazing how well, and naturally it all went. After all, being the dominant party isn't easy for me, and usually it feels very stressful to be the one in control. This time, however, things just happened, and the right things to say just came from somewhere.

After the sauna I brought up the subject of the rest of the packages. The thing is, the packages contained two stainless steel butt plugs. I had purchased them for myself after consulting my Queen, who had at that point been excited about them.

Afterwards I had many times mentioned to my Queen the idea that since our genitalia does't seem to be working the way it is supposed to, preventing a regular intercourse, would it be possible to do it vice versa, with her fucking me? Perhaps with a double-ended dildo?

My Queen had said that I do have a point, but that she's a bit reluctant about the idea of "anything going inside her". I had told her I understand her hesitancy, but that I still would like to start training my own boy pussy. 

We opened the packages, but as we looked at the two stainless steel plugs I realized she was having a major case of cold feet about using them on me. Finally I had almost beg her, and I assured her she wouldn't have to touch them, just be at present. 

Finally my Queen agreed. We put some of the Paula gear and proceeded. Unfortunately trying them out, or rather in, wasn't a complete success and at first it looked like a complete failure. 

The first plug, a one with a red diamond at the end turned out to be way too small for me. The thin part in the middle was too short and made the tiny diamond completely disappear between the cheeks. Also, we were both worried the metal thing would slip completely inside me.

I was naturally disappointed because I had wanted us to spend rest of the night watching television together, me as Paula and the plug inside me. Finally I suggested we forget the first plug, and try the second one instead.

The second one had a red fluffy tail instead of the diamond, and it had been the one Queen hadn't been as excited about. I had purchased it nevertheless, and it was a good thing I did. This one went in, but I must say it didn't feel as I had hoped. It didn't feel like it belonged there, rather like my body was trying to push it out.

Not wanting to give up just yet I asked whether my Queen would like to lay on the bed with me having the plug inside, and she complied. As we lay next to each other I asked her to tap the fluffy part between my bum cheeks a bit.

It felt nice, but nothing mind-blowing. I said I'd like to know how would it feel if she tried to pull it a bit, but not enough to pull it out completely. She did as I had asked and had me moaning and gasping in moments, as well as describing how it feels.

Finally the plug came out and I begged her to put it back in. Thanks to the lot of lubricant it went back nicely. After this had happened a few times she started putting it in and out. I asked her to do it faster. This time she had now to find a better position. After all, what she had in her fingers was a tiny fluffy thing between my ass cheeks, not an actual handle.

She started to put the plug in and out of my ass fast. Within moments she had me moaning aloud, and describing that what she did felt as if she was really fucking me. Which, after all, she was. 

I had played with my asshole a few times during my life, because... well, who hadn't? But I have to confess I hadn't never found it very pleasurable. Doing it on my own had always felt somewhat pathetic and, quite frankly, dirty.  

But here I was now, clean and straight out of sauna, being held in my girlfriend's soft arms, being pounded in the ass. It felt so... well, pure, and natural. I moaned out loud and kept telling her how gay it was, and how good it still felt. 

"Well, this is pretty gay, isn't it?" I remember her commenting.  

After a while my Queen wanted to stop because the position wasn't very good. I was okay with that, since I was already happy with the results. 

In other words, as butt plugs the purchases in question were far from successful. But as an experiment on anal play it was... interesting to say the least. It seems there's once again all sorts of things I need to look for from on-line toy shops.

After I had cleaned myself up we proceeded with the rest of the night, which was watching the last two episodes of a show we have followed recently, namely the first season of "Crazy Ex-Girlfriend". 

Even though I hadn't gotten to fulfil my earlier Paula scenario, I still felt girly enough wanting to put one of my girlfriend's skirts on as we watched the show. It fit me quite nicely, thanks to my girlfriend's wide hips. In fact I ended up using it the rest of her visit, and wondering why is it men don't use skirts more.

The third day of her visit was Monday, 23rd of May, which was also the actual anniversary of my six month chastity.

I had that day an appointment at a local hospital, a visit I wanted my Queen to accompany me on. Thanks to the diabetes my retinas have to be documented at regular intervals. Beforehand the pupils have to be dialated, which means I'm more or less blind outside for several hours.

The trip to the hospital itself was a quite uneventful one, but I am sure it would have been much stressful one if I hadn't my Queen with me. 

After we had returned to my place we lay on the bed and cuddled. We had left some hours, after which I knew my Queen had to leave. I had no huge plans anymore, since I felt I had already experienced so much during the last two days. However, as we lay on the bed kissing a thing occurred to me. 

Since I had tied my Queen to a radiator tube the day before, I asked would she like to return the favor? We had done it once at her place couple of weeks earlier, and I had been surprised how much I had liked it. After all, I had always thought being tied up wasn't my thing. 

My Queen complied and took the leather wrists shackles out, tying my wrists tightly together and then attaching them to the same pipe her own hands had been tied to a previous day. She had her fun with me for a while, among other things tickling me from all over while in the same time sitting on top of me so I had no chance of even squirming much.

After a while my Queen took out her ball gag and asked whether she could put it on me. She had purchased it last summer, wanting to know whether it was her thing or not, and I had used it on her a couple of times. However, as far as remember, I hadn't used it so far. I wanted to please her so, I said she could. 

It was a curious feeling. Even though I had believed the gag would feel uncomfortable, it wasn't. Neither was being bound tightly from my writs with hands above my head. There wasn't even a hint of panic, as I squirmed in the leather shackles, only the feeling of... well, being safe. Also the inability to speak and the thought that my Queen had put the gag on me to finally shut me up in bed seemed very erotic in a humiliating way.  

My Queen had fun with me, or I had fun with her, for what must have been almost an hour. During that time she even asked me where my straw mug was, and made me to drink water from it. This was something we had done a couple of times earlier, and my Queen knows how much I adore bladder torture. 

However, since my bladder was relatively empty at the time we started, I didn't get to experience the kind of desperation I had done in the past. I can only imagine what being tied up and gagged, with full bladder would have felt like.

At one point my Queen even opened my pants a bit and played with my soft penis for a while. I know my Queen has her reservations touching it, and even though I was nowhere near the edge it felt great to receive even a bit of attention from her. 

When my Queen finally zipped up my trousers and started to remove the bonds I howled aloud with disappointment, since I knew the fun was about to end.  

We both knew my Queen wouldn't be spending the next night at my place, but neither of us was ready to call it an end just yet. Since we still had a few hours to spare, I suggested we could watch the Addams Family, a movie my Queen had heard so much about, but had never seen it. Her being from religious family may have been an influencing factor.

There was unfortunately some technical difficulties but we managed to watch the movie. I am not sure whether my Queen actually liked it, or whether it was something she was expecting, after all the things she had heard about it. However, at least I got a kick after the move by whispering passionately "Cara mia!" to her and then kissing her deeply. 

Before my Queen had to leave we spent another hour engaging in an activity that may not be the most usual kinky practice, but a one that is very perverse: plucking hairs from face. The thing is, even how well I shave, it seems there's a tiny dark hairs around the edges of my face. 

Getting to pluck them out one by one with cosmetic pinchers is, according to my Queen, very therapeutic and rewarding for her, even though ii is not a fetish for me. After all, it hurts and the procedure can sometimes last an hour or so. But since it is something my Queen wants to do to me, and it lets me to be at her mercy, I endure the discomfort gladly.

By the time she was satisfied and pleased with the result we had been laying in the bed for several hours. In that time the water I had drank earlier as well as the soft drinks we had had during the movie had reached my bladder. My Queen had visited the bathroom once or twice in that time, but since I enjoy bladder discomfort as an erotic torture I hadn't.

After my Queen put the pinchers away we continued talking. I was still laying on the bed curled up on my side with my back against the wall. She on the other hand sat on the bed with her legs crossed and lightly pressing to me. As she was shifting her position a bit I realized my bladder really begun to feel full, and I told her that.

"Oh, really?" she said and leaned more to her side. Her knee pressed more strongly to my lower abdomen and I let out a sigh that was a  mixture of ecstasy and pain. 

"Oh, that... feels so divine", I said softly and saw my Queen resting her head against her palm, with her elbow resting on her knee tilting herself to her left even more. "Mmm, I can believe it does", I heard her saying and smiling. 

So she looked so beautiful as she sat there, smiling beautifully and torturing me sweetly the same time, even though on the surface she seeming doing nothing.

"Oh god, I love you so" I said to her, from the bottom of my heart. 

All in all, we managed to fit an incredible amount of things in those mere three days. In fact I suspect there is something I may have forgotten from this record. Things fade from memory so fast.

One more thing I want to mention has to do with gender roles, and more especially, with painted nails on men. 

We had discussed on Sunday night what to do the next day, when I was supposed to have my retina check-up. Did I want the polish to be removed? Well, the thing was, I didn't, simply because my red nails looked so pretty. Finally we ended up doing the hospital trip with the polish on. No one noticed them, or at least didn't say anything about them.

I knew I wouldn't be able to keep the polish on indefinitely, since in a couple days I would have a meeting where my Queen would be present as well. And even though I was able to go to a hospital in them I wasn't still ready to let my friends see me like that. I wasn't that ready to came out of the closet, whatever closet it was.     

However, the next couple of days I enjoyed my red nails as much as I could. I took good care of them, so that the tips of the nails looked nice. I admired them from time to time, since they looked so beautiful. The day I had my meeting I waited for the last possible moment to remove the red polish, and felt sad as I did so. 

In fact, I later on told to my Queen, I even felt more efficient during those couple of days, as I worked on my computer. It sounds weird, but in a way it felt almost as it wasn't actually me, as I looked at the female looking fingers dancing on the keyboard.

A question that has occupied a lot of my thoughts lately is why is it our society so strictly defines what is allowed for men, or women. I know that there are people who question those standards, and in fact to many a system where people are divided into two genders is something they oppose. 

However, it is one thing to say one is free to do anything one wishes, and another thing entirely to actually do it. A man can use paint on one's nails, or dress into a skirt, if he belongs to a goth band, for example. Try to do that if you don't, and you will be a freak.  

I'm not sure whether it's some sort of quiet rebellion, but my toe nails are still bright red. I smile goofily every time I go to take a shower and see them. 

I can't wait for the next time I get to do girl stuff with my Queen.

30.4.2016

Last October I published something I called "The Halloween Question and Answer special". It consisted of my answers to questions a page I follow on Facebook. For the past half a year the pile of similar answers has been growing, so it's high time for a second installment. Since I'm still not a man of few words this installment will be a long one as well. This one could be called "The May Day Question and Answer special".


What is your favorite thing about springtime?

Well, I can't deny it, it's the girls on the streets.

I love the feeling of going nuts seeing their in their short dresses. I'm a leg fetishist, and I usually get more out of normal summer wear than out of porn. The younger and more drop dead gorgeous women the better. I also enjoy thinking how out of their league I am.

I love the feeling of my testicles coming alive and feeling so desperate, or thinking what the girls I look at would think if they knew I haven't cummed by my free will for over two years. Next summer it will have been over six months of total chastity, and I have high hopes it will be excruciating time for me.

When was the last time you checked out a woman's ass?

Does checking your own girlfriend's ass count? I do it every time I see her walking, and can't believe how fortunate I am.

When was your last trip around an adult store?

It was way back in last summer. I brought my girlfriend there to get her a vibrator of her very own. Every girl should have one. Especially if they are in a relationship with someone whose penis is as useless as mine.

Could you be dominant if it pleases your lover?

I can, and I have. As has she. That's what they call love.

Have you had sex in the shower?

Does masturbation count? Since that's 99,99% on the sex I used to have, in shower or elsewhere. Nowadays I don't dare even to soap myself down there too thoroughly, because that could be interpreted as masturbating.

How many sexual partners have you had?

Depends what you mean with a "sexual partners".

If you mean all the women I have even kissed passionately I think figure could be as high as seven. But if you count only... let's say cunnilingus or other kind of more intimate fooling around, then the figure would be around three.

If the definition of sex is actual intercourse then the figure would be even lower. I would say two, or one. I didn't mention fellatio, even though men usually bring it up with questions like these, because I've never experienced it.

That's not much for 44 years.

Are you allowed to look and flirt or is that still cheating?

I think I have flirted with women as long as I have had some sort of social skills. However, it a strange kind of flirting because it has never had so called ulterior motive. That is, I don't do it to pick women up. I don't want to get into their panties. Quite frankly, the mere thought has always scared me.

Most likely I wouldn't know how to talk to women without flirting. But I think for me it's just being nice to them, and making them laugh. It's just a natural part of what I am.

Are you one of those guys who thinks size does not matter?

Oh, no. Quite the opposite. It matters a great deal. It is what separates real men from impotent losers like me.

If you were going to be a slave for a Mistress what type of slave would you be?

I think that is for her to say and me to obey. It is her needs that counts, not mine.

Finish the following sentences:

a) The next time I have sex I hope to...

...avoid ejaculating.

b) The last time I came it felt...

...wrong, messy, dirty, undeserved, disgustingly pleasurable, disturbingly normal and unpleasantly manly.

c) The more I think about a woman's ________ the hornier I become.

Hm. I would say voice.

If your sex drive was a sport which one would it be?

I don't watch sports. But then again, I don't have sex or masturbate either. Kind of fitting, wouldn't you think?

If you were given a chance to fuck the woman of your dreams but you had to first be denied and locked in chastity for one full year would you do it?

A hard question to answer. Let's just say if it truly were the woman of my dreams, she would prefer fucking me, not vice versa.

Do you ever get horny when super tired?

I don't know about tired, but I've always had the habit of getting erections if I sleep or doze. It is the one thing my penis still can do, even though it has never gotten hard when it should have been, in order for me to be able to make love to a woman.

When I was a teenager and still lived at my parents it was sometimes inconvenient. I remember some quite long car trips during which I sometimes dozed off in the back seat. When we arrived home I sometimes had really to struggle to hide the rock hard erection in my tight jeans.

Do you sleep partially or fully naked?

I try to do it as often as possible. Like I said, I tend to get erections while I'm asleep, However, recently I've noticed that if I sleep naked, bottomless or in some very loose shorts I will 100% certainty have an erections when I wake up. Being in chastity and forbidden to touch myself in sexual way it is so nice to wake up and see one's penis rock hard, and yearning for attention and release, something it won't ever get...

In your relationship, is masturbation considered cheating?

Very much so. At the moment even edging and playing with myself in an inappropriate manner is considered such. My Queen doesn't like the idea of me having any kind of sexual pleasure.

What tends to feel better for you, sex or masturbation?

Well, in my case the answer would be: "Neither".

How many times you cummed last year?

Way too many times. In 2015 I had eight instances one could call orgasms, or at least ejaculations. 

Four of them were ruined orgasms from my Queen, two really unpleasurable edging accidents, and only two could be called "normal" cumming from masturbation. They were all done under the observation and with the permission of my Queen. 

On 23th of July we also agreed it would be a good idea to forbid all sort of playing with myself while I'm alone. This rule still applies. Quite frankly the idea of masturbating on my own seems very unnatural to me now. 

My ejaculations took place in the 255 days between from 13th of March to 23rd of November, after which a drop of ejaculate haven't escaped my testicles. That makes about 31 days to one ejaculation. Not bad, wouldn't you say?

Okay, so how long has it been now? What's your record? Has your Queen been orgasming normally?

As of writing this it's been 150 days since my last ejaculation. That's a mere one quarter of 600 days. Think I could do it?

My record is 497 days, maddeningly close to 500 days. It would be so nice to able to break that record at least. Besides, this would be a record I would have made with my Queen, not a chastity period left over from another woman or women...

It's now been more or less one year since we started documenting my girlfriend's orgasms. In that time she has now had 158 orgasms, which is exactly 150 orgasms more than me.

Are you more productive in other areas of your life when you're locked up and not thinking with your penis?

Unfortunately no. When I'm denied of sexual pleasure I tend to think nothing but sex and masturbating, making me very unproductive indeed.

Does wearing a chastity device help you fill out your underwear? Has anyone ever noticed you're wearing the device in your everyday clothes?

As only a beginner, that's one the things that has kept me from wearing mine for long periods of time. I've tested it by doing short trips to the store and so forth, but that was in winter. The chance of someone noticing me wearing one is something I'm not yet ready to face.

What's your favorite way of being teased by your keyholder?

I love verbal teasing, commonly known as "talking dirty", that takes place online. after all, that's what 99% of my sex life has consisted of. Reminding me how long it has been since I've been allowed to cum, and how wonderful it feels for her to be allowed to orgasm whenever she wants drives me wild. The next best thing is actual verbal teasing, and only after that the physical teasing.

Would you ever sign a contract with your keyholder to stay in shape physically?

Why, of course. At least if it meant she would be in charge of my diet and physical exercise.

Tell us about your latest erotic dream.

It was a dream about masturbating in front of my girlfriend, and ending up actually ejaculating by mistake. I haven't had actual "wet" dreams in decades, thankfully. My body just created images in my head about things it wants to happen. Fortunately I'm a very chaste boy.

What about your last nightmare?

Some time ago I woke up today from a dream with a throbbing hard-on. In the dream I had been on my computer and a thing that I don't remember and had something to do with something else that made complete sense in the dream required that I masturbated, or did it at regular intervals.

As I was closing orgasm I realized: "What am I, nuts? I'm not allowed to cum!". I clenched my hand around the member and had a few spasms. Afterwards I had to taste myself in the dream, to make sure how the stuff that oozed out was. It was pretty thick and tasted of sperm.

I woke up from the dream and caressed my throbbing penis: "Awwww. So hard, and not allowed to cum, not even in a dream." Naturally I had to inform my Queen this as soon as I got chance. She seemed amused and pleased.

If you could have one pervy  super power, what would it be? The power to read peoples dirty thoughts, to see through their clothes, to make them have orgasms by will or something else?

I think there already is the perviest super power possible on comics as it is. Remember Reed Richards, aptly named Mr. Fantastic who can shape any part of his body into any form possible? I've always thought Sue Richards must be a very, very satisfied woman...

But as other possibilities go, I must say I think being able to make anyone orgasm telepathically would be extremely useful and amusing superpower. I would use it all the time if I had it. Mostly to women of course, but it would be so fun watching men squirting in their pants and trying to keep their cool.

Basically, making person to orgasm by will, or being able to read their naughty thoughts for that matter, is something every strong telepath in comics or in sci-fi in general could have and mostly likely has. But for some reason it is never mentioned.

How big are you? 

I decided I would add this one here at the end, to get it over with.

Dozens of times, if not hundreds of times when I've discussed on-line with fellow subs, sometimes even dommes, the line on conversation has gone the same way.

First they as what size am I. And no, they do not refer to my shoe or hat size. When I answer it they ask: "Soft or hard?" to which I reply the former. Then, every time, they ask how big it is hard then, to which I have had to answer, every single time, that it doesn't get hard, or that it never stays hard long enough for me to measure it.

Well, some time ago I realized I have a tape measure the kind of tailors use, and I took it out and placed it into a drawer of my nightstand. This morning I finally got to do the measuring, at the time of my punctual but very brief morning erection. Everybody ready for the result?

*drumroll*

It's... 18 cm.

Or thereabouts. I think if had been rock hard, the way it is when I use drug that makes it stiff and an iron rod, it would most likely be even more.

I have no idea whether that big or small, and quite frankly, I don't care. That particular piece of my body has never been that much use, not for for me neither the members of the fairer sex.

However, I thought I should make a big announcement out of it, since the fact seems to have such a big importance to so many people.

And no, I'm still not going to send you pictures of it. Go find photographs of penises somewhere else, you perverts.

25.4.2016

It's been over a week since my last, rather dramatic post. Therefore I think it's high time I clear things up a bit and tell you, my faithful readers, about the current situation.

First things first. We haven't broken up. There's still something that you can call us, there is still Queen and me. But it came very close we did.

After I made my earlier post the situation progressed, and by that I mean it went from bad to worse. There has been a lot of harsh and direct talk and lot of crying, me included. 

Monday night a week ago I wasn't sure whether I had a girlfriend anymore. It's no exaggeration to say we have just been closer to the end of our relationship than we've ever been before.

We have problems, there's no denying that, more than we should, and way more than I would hope. I don't want to go into too much detail, but there are her bisexuality, our age difference, as well as other differences between us, my self-esteem issues and expectations what belongs to a relationship after a year and a half, her commitment issues and feelings of being trapped, and so on.

All or at least most of these things have affected each other and most likely have made the problems worse. There are things that have been brewing under the surface, many of which I really haven't been aware of fully. Mostly because my Queen hadn't told about them to me.

I spent a day and a night at her place little less than week ago. As I went there I wasn't sure whether she was my girlfriend anymore. Whether I had just lost a huge part of my life. Whether it would be my last time there. I was sobbing even before I was inside her apartment.

We talked for hours about the situation and how differently we saw it, as well as about our differences, and whether there would be any point us to continue as a couple, and where would we go from here.

Finally we came to the conclusion we could still try, at least. But there are things we will have to improve and work on. Nevertheless, the situation and our relationship is way more problematic I could have believed a week ago. 

I wrote my earlier post mostly to my Queen. Partly I did it to sort my head, partly to make her understand my feelings. It's all, however, only my part of the story, and as I wrote it I had no idea how she felt about certain things.

I still stand behind everything I said on the post, even though I understand now the whole picture is much bigger, much more complex and problematic.

On Monday night my Queen linked to me a coming out video of a YouTube celebrity she has followed since high school. She told me she has watched it "almost religiously" since last spring. I watched through, the whole 20 minutes or it.

The video really hit me. In it the YouTuber tells how her being lesbian had always been a thing she has suppressed because of her background, and even though she dated a lot of guys she felt she can never give herself fully to a man. That it felt wrong for someone to just pour love into a relationship while she keeps retreating.

My Queen said many of the things described in the video fit so perfectly to her it's scary. And it was scary, to watch it and realize how she must have felt all this time. To realize how so many things in her behavior suddenly made sense.

My Queen claimed that she's does not think herself as 100% lesbian. That she has eyes for male beauty as well. But she does have, and I have noticed this as well, problems with certain parts of male physique. Then again, she seems to have problems with all sorts of physical as well as sexual things in general, as well.

Couple nights ago, day or so after our confrontation I noticed the usual after effects I get in situations like this. The real shock and realization hits me only afterwards. As it all happens I'm too busy to simply survive.

My Queen, however, told me that she felt strangely relieved afterwards, and not at all stressed or anguished, like she had done before. That's a good thing, I believe.

All I can say now that things are not the same way they were before. I am not sure whether they are worse, I'm not even say they are better. But that are different. In a way I feel I have been just been in a near fatal car crash and survived only with few scratches. My Queen doesn't question the metaphor.

So yes, things have changed. It is hard for me to describe how exactly. Some sort of innocence, one could call it, is gone from our relationship. I see my Queen in a different light now, and in a way I feel I have lost some of the boundless affection I have felt towards her all through our relationship.

In a way I understand now my Queen isn't my ideal girlfriend I think I've wanted to see her as. I have wanted it so very bad and thought that over time things will get better. As we learn to understand each other better, to understand what the other person wants and as we learn to make compromises. However, it seems all the while the time was working against us, not with us.

I have discussed the situation with some of my kinky acquaintances during the past week and one of the things I've heard is that at least there is more things now out in the open now, which is a good start. One can't fix problems if one doesn't know they are there. This is something my Queen and I both agree with.

I think it's only fair to add something one can define as erotic, as a reward for all of you who have gotten to the end of this post.

My Queen is still keeping her word and going to deny me orgasms at least the rest of the year. I am naturally very relieved to hear this. She really does hate sperm, and the idea of any of it coming out of me. So, no orgasms for me this year.

She on the other hand seems to have some of her libido back and has started to masturbate more. Just the other night she told me she has apparently orgasmed once a day during the last four days. Even I didn't masturbate more often than that. Back in the day I used to do it, that is.

Either her sex drive is coming back, or she has just been too bored. The latter were her own words. She also says masturbating is so trivial thing for her she may do it and forget to tell about it to me, or to forget whether she has masturbated that day or not.

She also informed me during our confrontation that due to her mental problems she has decided to drop also the birth control option number two she has been using for some time now, and that has put her menstrual cycle to go haywire. This means there is no way now we will ever be able to have so called normal sex with penetration.

My little limp dick is now forever forbidden to enter my Queen's pussy.

I feel very happy about it.

16.4.2016

Writing this blog post is very difficult for me. As I'm writing this I'm in a state mind in which I would like to forget everything. But I will try. However, let it be said there is very little anything sexy in this long post. Rather, it's an attempt to tell you what has happened to me and my Queen the past few months.

It's been quite a while since I made my last blog post. However, as usual, there's a reason for it. In this case several ones, to be exact. In fact there would have been several instances during the past two months I would have had things to tell, but quite frankly for various reasons I haven't felt like writing about it.

I am not sure in what point everything started to go wrong between me and my Queen, or what exactly has it been that has gone wrong. All I know is that as I'm writing this all is not well.

However, since this is supposed to be a sexual blog let's at least start from there. It has been very quiet sexually between us during the past few months. One could say it's been more or less dead.

The biggest reason for this is the fact that because of my Queen's anxieties she chose to change the type of birth control she started using some time ago. The reason behind her decision were the anxiety attacks she had, in which she was convinced the worst possible side effects of the medication were manifesting themselves.

It has taken me, and us, long conversations in which I have tried to be there for her and tried to make her understand that every little sensation she feels in her body isn't a sign of something horrible, and that will mean she will die painfully.

Ultimately, however, she decided to switch her medication from the one her gynecologist primarily recommended to the next best option. The one she now uses has caused her menstrual cycle to go haywire for several months. I won't go into detail, but let's just said it has prevented me doing anything for her in ages. The things taking place have also made her feel very unsexual.

At this point I should also add that my Queen is currently seeking help with the issues of anxiety and depression and who knows what. It's a long road, though and do not believe in quick fixes. But it is good she has done something, since she has a lot to work on. She admits this herself.

It's hard to say how big a role sex dying out between us has had in all of this. Maybe it's not the only reason, but it has had its effects, of that I am sure of. To tell the truth I'm still going round and round in my head what came first and what affected what.

All I can say that during the last few moths it has started to disturb me that some parts of being in a relationship seem to cause problems to her. That as part of a couple you're sort of expected to take the other person into consideration in what you do.

Therefore I have been during the past few months been a bit more determined in expressing all that to her. After all, we have dated almost a year and a half now, and it has disturbed me to understand I still have to explain so many things to her.

This in turn has led to series of little crises during last few months. None of the things leading to them has been anything major. They have all been little things, but put all together the complete picture I've begun form is a one a person with definite commitment problems.

One could even say that when it comes to relationship roles they seem to be vice versa in ours. She seems to be the macho idiot who doesn't understand why being in a relationship should restrict him in any way when it comes hanging out with the guys, whereas I'm the over-thinking little wife who is too sensitive for her own good, and has trouble understanding why her boyfriend is so heartless.

I may be guilty of over-analyzing, but it seems to me that for several months now my Queen has been trying desperately to prove herself and me she has a life outside the one she has with me. That she is not chained to me. That she can still do all the things she used to do, or wants to do. That she is a free spirit, to do anything she desires. I have no objection to any of it, even though I don't feel or have never felt the same kind of desire she seems to do.

What I do find a bit annoying is the fact that it has become, whether she has realized it or not, something she can rub into my face over and over again. That I don't have as active life as she has, or that I have focused my social life more than she has. I'm content having the friends I have, doing the things I do. I don't feel the need to prove anything to anyone. 

All the while this has been going on I have had a worse phase as well, a one to which the things I described earlier haven't had a positive effect. I have never been diagnosed with actual depression, but my moods do tend to be quite a roller coaster. Periods of productivity followed with moods of worthlessness and self-loathing.

During the last few months it has been mostly latter. I have begun to feel inadequate and as an outsider in my normal social circles. I know most of this is probably happening only inside my own head, but it's as hard for me to accept that as it is for a depressed person to stop being depressed.

Having problems with my Queen at the same time hasn't helped, since many of the little crises we've had have had something to do with social situations as well. Also, it's easy feeling a loser when the opposite of it is being rubbed into your face. Most likely the issues of us both have affected each other and made them worse.

As an end result of all of this we have went from one little crisis to another, a thing neither of doesn't like, but a one we have been unable to avoid either.

Then there's the sexual orientation part. Some months ago my Queen started admitting to me she has sexual feelings for women as well. This was, I have to say, no big news to me and I had sort of put it together over time.

For my Queen, however, this seems to be something she has fought with a long time now. She comes from a religious family and she says all her life she has played the part of a "nice heterosexual daughter" even though inside she's something very different.

What came to as a sort of a surprise for me was how big an issue this has been to her. It is not one or two times when I've held her, as she has cried uncontrollably and telling how awful she is feeling the way she does. That feeling the way she feels she does a great injustice towards me.

These feelings, it seems, have come the stronger the more she has come in terms with this side of herself. I've told her over and over again they are not anything she needs to be ashamed of, since it's nothing she can control.

I have tried to be super-cool about this all. Because... well, I am.

I have said to her time and time again I'm perfectly cool if she has sexual feelings towards girls. Because, hey, what's not to like in girls? We have watched "Crazy Ex-Girlfriend" together and admired Rachel Bloom's ample cleavage. We have joked about the "Peggy Carter" background image she has on her phone. We exchange glances smiling when a sexy girl passes us on the street.

I love having a partly lesbian girlfriend. I'm totally okay with it. Like I've said previously, I'm even flattered. To realize I'm enough for her, that I'm feminine enough for her to fell in love with me in the first place.  

I'm totally okay with all of it as long I feel I'm enough for my girlfriend. As long as I don't get the impression she is planning to hop into bed with a nice geek girl living next door to her. I'm a human being after all, not a saint or a superman with ego of steel.

I have told her I am not threatened by the fact she finds women sexually attractive. However, I have admitted to her that yes, I am scared as hell of the idea that she will involuntarily fall in love with a girl. Because that is something one can't control, unlike having sex with someone.

I know I sound like a horrible person, but how was I supposed to react? As I heard over a course of several months about her fantasies, over and over again. As my girlfriend is having a crisis after crisis, as she is sobbing in my arms and telling me once again about her erotic dream in which she is having sex with a woman.

What was I supposed to do? I can't change my sex to make the woman I love and who loves me happy. I would, if I could. And I have told her that many times.

Well, there is one thing have been able to do. And that is trying to be not only her boyfriend but girlfriend as well. 

The thing is, while all of this has been going on we have taken our first steps into experimenting with a bit of cross-dressing. For a long time she has hinted at it, how she would love to put lipstick to my luscious lips, that are so much fuller than hers she is actually envious of them.

A month or so ago we a session during which I got to be dress-up doll my girlfriend. I was into it all the way, since I wanted to show her I wasn't against exploring my feminine side. That in me she could have both boyfriend and a girlfriend. Ultimately it got all quite steamy and by the end I was so comfortable in her dress I didn't want to take it off.

I even got so into it I started to look for a suitable and cheap wig on-line, and finally bought one with the assistance of my Queen. The women's department on flea markets started to interest me, and I suggested to my Queen we could go shopping together in the summer. 

All this however was before the most recent series of events. Events during which my Queen has had to ask herself why she feels hard to act as a part of a couple with me, after the subject had come up a couple of times.

Last Sunday I spent a night at her place. It had been quite a while I had done so and I admit I had maybe a too romantic and foolish ideas about the visit. In any case the line of discussion soon went into the problems we've had, and her difficulty in acting like a girlfriend in social situations.

Finally my Queen admitted that she believes the reason for acting towards me the way she has lately is that deep inside she feels resentment towards the idea of being part of "some kind of heterosexual relationship".

A little while later she was crying again and telling me I'm this perfect boyfriend, so sweet and caring and sensitive and thinking everything in such an adult manner, that she feels she doesn't deserve me because she is so awful. What is a guy to do? Aside from holding her that is.

We continued the conversation couple of days later, this time on-line. The thing she had said the other night had understandably been going around in my head the past few days. If she felt resentment being in a heterosexual relationship, what in her opinion had we done, or been in, for the past year and a half?  Hadn't she realized she was in a relationship, until now?

"We have tried so hard to make compromises", I told her a little while later after she had given me her usual apologies. "To find common ground, on which both of us could be happy. I have done my best to meet you in the half way, but the closer the half way I get, the more you keep retreating to your side."

She didn't deny it.

When I brought up the question how much of what she feels is caused by fear of committing, how much by her dislike of an idea being in a relationship with a man, she dropped the actual bomb:

"Well, I guess I fear committing, because I feel at the same time sexual desire towards a female body, and would like to get to experience it, but I can't."

I didn't know what to say to her at that point. It was such a slap to my face.

After all the I had done. After all that being the ideal boyfriend, someone caring, affectionate and tender, someone who had listened to her, taken care of her and consoled her when she was crying her eyes out.

After all that she didn't like to be reminded or admit to her she was in relationship with me, in something that outside looked like a normal heterosexual relationship. 

Because in her head it meant she couldn't get nasty with women if she wanted.

"Well, that's it then", I said finally. "You have built yourself a fool proof chain of logic, which gives you the chance to get rid of me, if you want."

She didn't deny this either. The coldness of her comments at this part still chills me.

After I had regained my senses at least partially I reminded her that I had said numerous times that if she truly wants to arrange a threesome I am not standing in the way. She said that she knows it, but that she has no such plans, and most likely couldn't do it because of her low self-esteem.

At that point I was lost for words. What was I supposed to say? I'm not planning to get nasty with any girl, but I dislike the idea of being in a relationship with you, just in case. Despite the fact you're so sweet and and all.

I'm not saying I don't understand her. I felt more or less the same way when I was in my first relationship. My sexual life had been nonexistent before it, but after I suddenly become a part of a very steady couple I felt trapped. The possibility of finding something or someone that suited my preferences even better was taken away from me.

In some weird way I even understand my incredibly jealous ex much better. Talk about weird. Still, I hope sincerely I haven't been as awful towards my Queen as my ex was towards me.

I haven't been able to know what to think for the past couple of days. I don't deny feeling hurt. Or perhaps not hurt. I feel inadequate, powerless and scared beyond belief. Yesterday I wasn't at all sure whether I had a girlfriend anymore.

I wasn't sure whether the things I had bought on-line would stay in their packages for the next two years. The thing is, the same exact thing happened three years ago, as my previous girlfriend broke up with me before we got a chance of unpacking a similar item.

As I now thought the possibility of it all happening again I felt my heart being ripped from my heart and tears fill me eyes, even as I write this.

When I finally texted her and asked her just that she assured me I still had one. At that moment I would have wanted to ask whether she understood that there are couples who would have considered our prior conversation a break-up?

Despite what she said I couldn't help but feeling very uneasy last night. Originally the idea was for me to see her off to a bus, since she will be traveling this weekend, and meeting her friends and  family. In the end she didn't ask me to come. Maybe it was for the better. I didn't know what I would have said to her.   

Maybe I shouldn't have gone with her idea of dressing me up as a girl, I find myself contemplating now. Who knows, perhaps that was the last straw. Maybe when she frolicked in the bed with me and feeling my fake tits she had realized I wasn't enough for her?

I admit my thinking isn't the most coherent at the moment and I feel going back and forth in the spectrum of emotions.

There are times I ask myself would it really be that impossible for a straight girl to fall in love with me? All the women who have done so have been at least bi, or straight-curious lesbians. What's wrong with me? It would be, you know, a nice change of pace to catch the attention of a straight girl. Just one. Just once. But it seems that would be a too much to ask.

In my opinion I am not asking much. I have never asked much. When I was younger women and girls were something quite unreachable for me. Even after I begun my sex life at 33 years of age and finally started developing something resembling a self-confidence I haven't asked that much.

All I have ever wanted was someone who I could share my life, my fantasies and my sexuality with. Someone I would mean something to, and something I could do nice things to. That I could have someone, that I wouldn't have to feel so alone, and such a freak and a failure.

My Queen was all that to me. For the first time in my life I felt being on the same level with a woman. Without having to put a show on, or to pretend being something I am not, someone with more confidence and self-esteem. Someone with whom I could be silly and clumsy together. I have never felt so comfortable with anyone.

Now I fear I will lose it all.

I have, I believe, tried to everything my power to make my Queen happy. I have cared for her, consoled her and been there for her through her hard phases. I have taken her feelings into consideration, helped her and been kind to her. I have so hard to be the ideal, most romantic boyfriend a girl can think of. 

I have tried my very best to do everything she has wished me to do or hinted at in bed. I have never said no to something she has suggested or hinted at. I have tried to be the ideal dom for her, even though that role isn't natural for me. The ideal lover, even. For me her needs have always come first. Our sex life has been only about her pleasure, not mine.

I have tried my very best not to push her into anything, or make her to do anything she feels uncomfortable with. My needs are, after all, not big ones and not the most usual kind. Sometimes I wonder, and have even asked it from her couple of times, whether she understands it how much I have given up for her. How much there is a real man would expect in a relationship. She assured me she does. 

I know this sounds like I'm drawing a picture of myself as some sort of a saint. I'm not. I'm far from it, believe me. I have my faults and sometimes I amaze how my Queen stands me the way she does. But I try. That's all I can do. 

My Queen is not what one could call centerfold material. However, to me she is the most beautiful woman in the world. I love her smile, her laugh, her smell, her every curve, every inch of her body. In fact I feel I have grown as person through her and I am much less superficial than I used to be.

Also, I do know she is not the only fish in the sea, as they say. If really try to see things objectively, I know I would have a lot to offer to any woman sexually, despite my lack of hard cock. I'm even distantly aware I'm not that bad to look at, apparently. That I could find someone if the worst happened. If I actually tried.

But I don't want to.

Because I really love that girl.

My Queen.