Monday, December 6, 2010

Another Nice Breakthrough

Another Nice Breakthrough

Sorry to have left you hanging for so long - it was a busy holiday period. My last blog entry left off with an upcoming test of the Lori model 12B in action during a “drawing.” For those of you not familiar with the “drawing” ceremony we have, basically it consists of my wife drawing a marble from a velvet sack after we’ve done a little making out and some teasing by both of us - mainly with our fingers. The sack begins with seven black marbles and one white marble. My wife draws a marble from the sack. If it is black, nothing happens - we draw again day after next and the drawn black marble is kept out of the sack for the next drawing; so the count for the next drawing is then six black and one white marble. This continues every other night until she selects a white marble. Once the white marble is selected by her, the clock starts and sometime within the next five days (120 hrs.) I will be allowed to orgasm at a time, place and method of her choice. She need not tell me when in advance and, in fact, can “fake me out,” i.e. lead me to think that a particular get together will be the time for it and then deny me as long as she eventually allows me to cum within that five day period.

We have been doing the marble drawing for a few months now, experimenting with the drawing periodicity and the numbers of black and white marbles but with basically the same dynamic: black marble selected means no imminent orgasm and pick again in two days; white marble means imminent orgasm - a matter of days. It has worked wonderfully for us - providing us with a dedicated time to get together for some sexual play every other night and keeping my wife’s head and passion in the game; not to mention some really incredibly explosive, passionate, uber-satisfying sex when I am finally allowed to release. A couple of things I should mention for those who have not read my previous blog entries:

First, I noticed that my wife had an unusual degree of prescience when it came to selecting the white marble - she seemed to know ahead of time when she was going to pick it even though it was, or was supposed to be, a “blind drawing.” She began doing all of the things I have known her to do in preparation for full on sex before the drawing was held. Later, checking the marble, I found she had doctored the white marble with something that gave it a rough texture, easily distinguishable from the smooth black marbles it was with. My guess is she used a clear nail polish in streaks on it. But, far from being angry about the deception, I was delighted by it. She had taken control of my orgasm which was the important thing for me. The deception was simply to give her cover so she felt comfortable doing it which was perfectly okay with me. It also gave her the freedom to experiment on her own about how and when she would allow me to cum.

Second, although I had often told her (and written in notes to her) that it was perfectly okay to fake me out - let me think it was my night for orgasm and then “change her mind” after she had her orgasm - i.e. leave me hanging. I also let her know as subtly as I could that I would like to try that experience. But, to date, she had never done that. She stubbornly held onto the belief that men, once aroused, had to be allowed to cum. To do otherwise would be painful/harmful to them and would make me angry at her for being a “prick tease,” (yes, she used that phrase) whatever I said beforehand about wanting that. She said she loved me and never wanted to cause me pain or harm. I didn’t push it any harder, feeling that if I did it would ruin it for me if it did happen since I would be the one denying myself, not her.

So, with that as a background, I put on my Lori model 12B complete with locking pin, lock and rubber cap and casually watched her as she went through the familiar routine she followed when she was going to have sex - lengthy shower but without washing or wetting her hair, her favorite Victoria’s Secret body lotion that gave her that wonderfully fragrant, sexy scent, and putting on one of her sheerer, more revealing nightgowns instead of her usual wintertime flannel nightgown. I could see a white marble and immediate sex in my future.

I lit the scented candles, put on the soft music and gathered various lotions, offering to give her a foot massage, which she readily accepted. She laid down diagonally across the bed (she is tall and must lie diagonally if I am to have room to sit up against the headboard of our bed and be able to massage her feet and lower legs in my lap. In the candlelight, my wife’s body looked luscious through her sheer nightgown. I had pre-warmed the massage lotion in a bowl of hot water so it was just warmer than body temperature when I removed it from the bowl and squeezed out a generous portion in my palm. Gently lifting her leg by the ankle, I moved it so her foot rested on my crossed legs, the bottom of her foot grazing the head of my dick imprisoned in the penis ring of the Lori 12B and pointed down, my already semi-hard shaft rapidly inflating and hardening, further pressuring my exposed, vulnerable balls sticking out on either side of the shaft and pressed against my inner thighs.

With the back of her ankle resting against the inside of my crossed lower legs, I rubbed my hands together to spread the warm lotion out and then gently grasped her foot with both hands, one holding the heel of her foot for support, the other the sole, thumb up around the balls of her foot. I began the massage with gentle circles, using my thumb to work the lotion into the calloused balls of her foot, moving up to massage the much softer skin in the area just below her toes. She emitted a low sigh of relief and pleasure as I worked my thumb in continuous circles, working my way across the upper part of her foot. I could feel the tension leave her leg as she relaxed and let the full weight of it be supported by my crossed legs and cupped, supporting hand. After a few minutes of working my thumb across the upper part of the sole in small circles, she turned her face to the side to locate the silk, padded eye cover she liked to wear when I massaged her. Even though the room was very dim, lit only by three small candles, she liked to close her eyes and have it completely dark so she could lose herself in the touch of my hands without the distraction of light.

As I released her foot to reach over for more lotion, I felt her foot come alive in my lap and start to playfully reach for and graze my trapped penis, moving the lotion covered sole of her foot over the head and top of my penis shaft, I felt a strong bolt of pleasure course through me.

“Oh my,” she whispered in a husky voice, “you seem to be getting hard. Are you alright,” she said with a little bit of a giggle, seeming to be pleased and well satisfied at the effect she was having on me.

“I’m fine dear,” I replied - “Just fine.”

But I wasn’t fine. My dick was about as engorged as the metal, 12B chastity device would allow, which was surprisingly almost fully engorged. The one and one eighth inch diameter penis ring, reduced in size further by the locking pin and underside spikes (studs) which had firmly, yet comfortable held my flaccid penis in place, was now unforgivingly digging deeply into the top of my almost rigid shaft, just behind the head; the studs buried deeply into the sensitive underside of my shaft on either side of the urethral canal. Immediately I knew this was going to be a race against time - how long would it take me to pleasure my wife against the amount of time I could endure the pain of the stainless steel curve of the penis ring digging into my shaft.

I tried not to let the growing pain in my dick speed up my massage but no doubt it did. I worked my warm, lotion covered index fingers into the gaps between her toes, one at a time, plunging it slowly in and then withdrawing it in an ill disguised imitation of fucking. The message was not lost on my wife who seemed to be further aroused by it - I felt her squeeze her upper thighs together and shudder at the effect. I finished “penetrating” the gaps between her toes and then began gently pulling on each toe as I massaged the base of each digit. Then with both lubricated hands, began kneading and massaging the heel and middle sole of her foot, sides and across the top, finishing the massage of that foot with a gentle rub and manipulation of her ankle. I worked my hands up her calf and began a firm but gentle massage of her lower leg, up to the knee and back down. After I was finished with that foot and lower leg, I gently placed it back down on the towel covered mattress and went to work on her other foot and lower leg.

About ten minutes later, I finished the foot massage, and knew, with the insistent pain of my steel strangled dick that I had to move this along. With my wife thoroughly relaxed and almost limp, I gently grasped both of her ankles and, placing her feet flat on the mattress, slid her legs back as I unfolded my legs and leaned forward on my chest and belly, my lotion covered hands sliding up her legs, moving her nightgown up until it was bunched up around her waist. I think my wife knew what was coming next as I felt her legs relax and her knees spread out on either side of me. Cupping the little, round bottom of her ass cheeks in my palms, I used my thumbs to gently spread open her nether lips and dipped my head low to start at the very bottom, below her slit, and with relaxed tongue slowly swiped upward, inside her inner labia, stopping at her opening and dipping the tip of my tongue in before continuing up to the apex and the engorged bud that was just peeking out from its hood. Rather than licking it directly, I went around it several times with just the tip of my tongue before gently pressing my lips around it.

My wife squirmed under my tongue, moaning in pleasure as I felt her fingers combing through the thick, wavy hair at the back of my head as she pulled and held me where she wanted me. I did a second, third and fourth long, slow swipe, each time applying just a little more pressure with my lips as they surrounded and kissed her clit. I had almost forgotten about the pain in my dick until she snaked her foot down under my hip and found the poor, trapped fellow. Giving it a few swipes with her foot, probably not realizing just how much pain I was in and how much more pain those few swipes of her foot caused me as my dick was getting grotesquely distorted by the steel that was deeply embedded in the shaft, the purple head crying pre-cum tears for relief. Rapidly overtaking the pain in my dick was the growing ache in my trapped balls from her flicking foot and the sheer pressure of my engorged manhood pressing them against my thighs and the steel rim of the testicle ring.

I knew I couldn’t continue this for much longer but I desperately wanted to avoid crying “uncle” from the very chastity device I was trying to get her to accept. To speed things up a bit, I reached for and found the wand vibrator that she loves, pulled my face away and applied it to her slit. She literally jumped in immediate reaction to the bolt of pleasure that hit her from the first touch. I also think she has an almost Pavlovian reaction to the sound of the vibrator from all of the pleasure it has given her in the past. Just turning it on gets her juices flowing. I moved it slowly, up and down her slit, hearing her gasp and suck in her breath when I lightly grazed her clit before moving it back down and around her inner thighs; teasing her in the way I love to be teased by taking her right to edge and then moving off.

Her hand went to the handle of the vibrator, at first guiding me to where she wanted it and then just taking it from, hissing “get out of that thing - I want you in me when I cum.”

I didn’t need to be told twice. I fairly leaped up out of bed, found the key ring and then fumbled through the mass of keys in the dim light to find the oddly shaped hexagonal key to fit the 12B lock. Finding the key, I held it in one hand as I felt for the rubber cap over the lock to remove it so the key could go in. With fingers slippery from the lotion, it was difficult getting the tight cap off. The fun was just beginning.

Okay, so here I am, my wife moaning in pleasure from the ministrations of her favorite vibrator, waiting for me to enter her to fuck her after more than two weeks of complete orgasmic abstinence - and me with a fully engorged but steel strangled cock bursting itself to be free and me fumbling to hold a small, odd shaped key with slippery fingers while trying to find the tiny slot the key must line up with, all in the dim light of a candle. My first thought was - “wow, this is going to be tough;” my second thought was “note to self - take the stupid lock off before playtime - a bit of tape over the locking pin resting slot is sufficient to hold it in place.”

Okay, by trial and error, I finally find the small line up slot and insert the key, just as I hear my wife say: “So, are you coming back any time soon?”

“Yes dear, in a moment,” I reply, not at all convinced by my own time estimate.

Now the real fun part - to open the lock, one must hold the key firmly while turning while at the same time holding the body of the lock in place so the key turns within it. With the fingers of both hands slick from the very slippery massage lotion, I had no chance - none of doing that, especially in my state of fever pitched arousal and screamingly painful cock and balls. After a half dozen fumbled tries, it finally occurred to me that I needed to wipe the lotion off my fingers; frantically, I did so with a nearby towel. Moments after that epiphany, I had the lock off, the locking pin and finally, joyously, my dick slid free of its steel straightjacket. Quickly, I slid back into bed, my wife guiding me into the “crossing the T” position she preferred when she wanted me inside her as she brought herself off with the vibrator.

“Well, it’s about time,” she said with equal measures of humor and sarcasm.

I answered not with words but with deeds as I slid my hips under her legs, facing her as she lay on her back, the vibrator never leaving her slit for a moment. With her thighs draped over my hip, I slid closer to her until the tip of my dick just reached the soft, downy covered lips of her now very wet pussy. Using my hand to guide the shaft, I slid further until I was just about to enter her. With her free hand she brushed mine away off my shaft.

“Let me, let me,” she said as her fingers wrapped around my pulsing, engorged shaft and pulled on it insistently.

As she moved it down towards the bottom of her slit I started to thrust forward seeking that warm, wet tunnel I knew so well and, at this point, craved beyond belief.

“No, I’ll do it,” she said a little louder, a definite edge in her voice.

I obeyed immediately, relaxed and remained motionless, letting her take complete control. I felt her fingers massage my shaft, then the head of my dick, almost cumming but holding back, not wanting to spoil it for her. It took all of my breathing and PC muscle control techniques to fight back the almost overwhelming urge to cum. She rubbed me up and down her slit, alternating the feel of my dick head and that of the vibrator on her clit. I knew she was close, very close when her knees drew back and spread themselves wide, opening herself up completely. With her hips thrusting up, she drove my dick into her pussy in one spasmodic jerk of her arm as though she was stabbing herself.

“Now, fuck me,” she said. “Do it fast and hard.”

I responded immediately, revving up to speed like a well-oiled machine, piston thrusting in and out just as fast and hard as I could go. In less than a minute, she exploded, screaming and bucking like a possessed, insane teenager. She bucked and thrashed wildly, the heels of her feet pounding my back as she flailed in total abandon, one loud, repetitive chant of “Ohhhhhh goooddddddddd Ohhhhhhhhh godddddddd Ohhhhhh gooooodddddd!” bursting from her lips. I continued to breathe deeply and fought the instinctive urge to contract my PC muscles - the thing that triggers in orgasm.

After what seemed like minutes, she slowed down and then stopped completely. She went completely limp, legs splayed out - one over my thigh, the other over my upper arm, both arms lay limp on the mattress, one hand still holding the vibrator, the buzz still filling my ears. Slowly, she seemed to come to, first turning off the vibrator, then laughing as she whispered:

“That was unbelievable - just unbelievable - never felt anything like that.”

“I know - I was there. I had an absolute ball watching you, feeling you explode,” I said as I began moving my hips slowly, my rigid cock still embedded in her tunnel starting to slowly piston in and out like the slow start of an engine just starting to roll over. She looked at me for a moment, just a moment before she said:

“I’m going to be a bitch tonight,” so nothing for you - you’ll have to wait.”

There was silence; She was looking at me, testing me, seeing what my reaction was going to be. It was like watching somebody put a foot out on the frozen surface of a pond to test the ice. As much as I desperately wanted to cum by this point, I also knew that these next few moments would determine whether she would attempt to do a heavy tease and denial again. And I craved this kind of tease and denial - craved it even more than I wanted to orgasm at that moment.

“Okay hon - that’s fine,” I said, my voice still shaky from the adrenaline coursing through me getting my body ready to explode in orgasmic relief.

“You know, it’s what you asked for,” she said, her voice rising in that sing-song way used to denote humorous sarcasm.

“Yes, yes, I know, I know,” I said trying not to sound too glum.

“Be careful what you ask for dear . . . ,” she said, laughing, me chuckling along with her as my body started to realize that I really, really wasn’t going to cum. That she wasn’t joking or just testing me.

A Postscript

The next morning, before we got dressed, I gave her a hug and thanked her for having the courage to step outside of the box and try something new. She said she loved it - that she had the best sex ever and was starting to understand what this was all about.
I couldn’t stop grinning - you know, one of those Andy Griffith “ear to ear” jobs. At that moment, the feeling of love and devotion towards my wife was overwhelmingly intense. At that moment, I would have done anything for her. And I still would

A Postscript to the Postscript

Two nights later, three nights after she had selected the white marble, I was watching some football highlights while sitting on the couch in the den eating an ice cream pop, when my wife came in, still wearing the slacks and top she wore to work, knelt down beside my leg, unsnapped my jeans, slid my zipper down, pulled down the waistband of my underwear until it cleared my CB-6000s covered dick, opened the special key locket I had given her that was around her neck, took out the key, unlocked the lock holding the tube on, removed the tube and then, using thumb and finger, grasped my very flaccid cock and wiggled it back and forth.

“How’s the little guy doing. Is he ready for some action?”

Before I could answer, she turned her face down, opened her mouth and took all of it between her sweet lips. Here I am, in what must be a wet dream, on my couch, the football highlights still blaring from the TV and my half-eaten ice-cream pop (vanilla!) in my hand. I managed to reach the remote to turn off the TV but had no place to put the ice-cream so, in an inspired moment, I fed it to her - she alternated licking and sucking my cock with licking and sucking the ice cream. After the ice cream her lips felt cold on my quickly rising and rigid cock but they warmed up quickly and it was fun watching her giggle as she ate me. For just a moment, I reflected on how far we had come (cum) in less than year in reigniting our sexual relationship and our total relationship. It was more than I ever could have hoped for when I started this chastity lifestyle experiment some eleven months ago.

After a few more minutes of delicious ice cream and cock, she rose up, kneeled beside me on the couch and gave me the most passionate kiss I could remember, the taste of vanilla ice cream still on her lips; then she led me by the hand to our bedroom where she stripped the rest of my clothes off me, removed her own, then climbed on top of me and rode me to the most exquisitely, pleasurable, explosive orgasm ever - and that’s saying a lot, given the last eight months of fabulous sex we have had.

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