Dark and dirty me

My interest in writing to this blog has waned tremendously over the past several months mostly due to life forces requiring most, if not all my time and energy. With a major career change solidifies and months of sleep deptevation married to13 hour days normalizing I’m feeling the green shoots of my sexuality bubbling back to life.

The recent difficult period has been as hard, or harder on Cheyenne too and it’s far from clear how much inhibition has coagulated in our sexual arteries from lack of practice. I feel (qualifying my feelings as a purely subjective measure) all the sexy things we’ve done, I’ve shared as desires, or things we’ve agreed were possible have been shut down by either circumstance or disinterest.

In this environment of sexual isolation a  feedback loop has developed between my inability to satiate desire and new edgy ideas. It begins as mentally stimulation and evolves into rich devilishly delicious masturbation material. Allowed to evolve in the isolation and darkness of my own mind my sexual thoughts and fantasies take a turn for dark and more intense scenarios. I’m not ashamed by any of it, in fact, I quite enjoy the prospects of intense vulnerability the material might generate in the light of day and play.

The challenge seems to be as always being Genuinely Hapa in the face of contradicting circumstances.

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Freedom after incarceration is confusing

It’s been three days since my Sunday sex date with Cheyenne. For those of you just joining, I had been locked since late December with one brief release in January for a medical test – 80 ish days without access to my penis. More accurately, 80 ish days of a well defined place to rest my sexuality.

Since being unlocked I’ve been filled with familiar feelings of uncertainty and frustration. Some it has to do with coming and the post orgasm hormonal drop. Some of the uncertainty is becuase I had expected there might be more sex between Cheyenne and I while unlocked. Our previous understanding was that an unlocked penis is free to come whenever except this time it was eluded that I was not allowed. I was also headed into another sex date unlocked which was also against our rules of engagement for my sex dates. In sum, I’ve been confused and missing the relative safety and certainty of being locked.

I don’t miss the loneliness of the male sex drive and the frustration of no reciprocal desire.

It’s all been somewhat sorted out for now. I cancelled my sex date because I felt a lack of excitement going back for another visit. Cheyenne addressed my confusion by telling me to relock when I get home today so all I have to wrestle through is the hormonal transition back to the point where my body doesn’t expect to come but looks for an external balast.

I’ll be writing more about why I cancelled my sex date very soon.

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First sex date

It’s been two weeks since my first date. I’d say I haven’t written because the last two weeks were spent switching jobs and negotiating draconian employment contracts. The real reason is the experience was very different than I expected.

To be fair, the man I met is a great guy. He’s good looking, kind, thoughtful, articulate, muscular, and with a ginormous cock. More on that later… After a week of back and forth establishing who were were and what we were looking for, safe sex boundaries, and logistics I met him at his house for a sex date.

We seemed to get along with an ease and conversation was fluid but brief, mostly because we had done enough talking in the preceding days. There was a definite momentum to his actions as he undressed me and looked me over as if he was preparing to eat his favorite meal. The focus and attention I felt was an aphrodisiac that poured into my body warming me and making me more pliable to his direction. I was locked in my Mature Metal Jailbird device at the time without orgasm for 60-70 ish days so although I was burning with desire I could only be a bottom. The usual dominant male urges seemed to have abated, redirected, or re-wired themselves to enjoy the pleasures of being taken instead of giving.

The sex was hot. I started seeing myself as staring in my own porn flick and captured the images and sensations in my mind as I started finding dialogs and themes that would make the scene white hot. It was in that moment I realized the sex was great, the attention and energy amazing, but psychologically I was searching for stimulus. I NEED to feel mentally engaged. My sexuality is 80% psychological and 20% physical. As the first romp winded down we had a bit of an intermission, mostly for him because I was still completely lit on endorphins from not being able to come. After a few minutes he was back in top form again. For a while there I thought I might be able to orgasm too but the combination of my wiring and inability to access penis proved too high of a hurdle. Maybe he was too big? Perhaps more practice will help me find the right connections to orgasm from penetration. I hope so. What I can say is now I understand when women say sometimes a cock can be too big to be enjoyable. Part of my SPH fetish was crushed when I realized 7″ might be better than 10″. Yup. There was definitely a point where things got a bit eye watering even though I’m proud of my ability to play with some of SquarePeg’s best toys. At least I was feeling secure with my average cock locked away safe from a real comparison.

Damn. I wish my mind was being fucked with as hard as my ass was. I’ve been reading a great book “Enough To Make You Blush –  Exploring Erotic Humiliation” by Princess Kali. Truthfully, I was desperate for context on the psychological deficit I felt and picked up the book on Amazon to fill the void. My expectations were low but I have to say this book is amazing! It is the single best read on BDSM and power dynamic I’ve run across since I’ve been looking. Don’t be misled by the title, the content is written from extraordinary insight and experience. Page after page I find myself saying “wow..that finally makes sense!”.

What I do know is Sex with Cheyenne keeps getting better, more vulnerable and fucking hot. She’s closing ground on me at a furious pace. Her strapon cock puts my dates’ cock to shame. Maybe it’s me that should be blushing? Fuck it. I’m digging my new role.

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Latex handcuffs

After a month on male dating sites I’ve come to the conclusion that of safe sex means wrapping a penis for sex regardless of where it’s put then safe sex is equivalent to celibacy. I didn’t realize at first that oral sex between men is considered a safe standard. 

Talking with Cheyenne, it’s clear unwrapped oral sex with male strangers is too risky for our bedroom. She’s very much open to it if the person was not so much a stranger and trust had been established but that’s sort of a chicken/egg type of dilemma given that 100% of potential partners say protected oral sex is a deal breaker. 

Moving forward I’m planning to let my dating site efforts wane rather than texting feverishly for a couple days only to bound by latex each time. We’ll see what happens… Sometimes, in my experience good things happen when I let go of an ideal. 

I’m open to new ideas, just haven’t found any yet.  Maybe I’ll buy a new sex toy to pacify myself.

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Not in Kansas anymore

So much has changed. Back in the first few days on January I locked myself in to a stainless steel chastity cage and handed Cheyenne the key. It’s a move I’ve performed many times in the past so I anticipated it would play about roughly the same way except about that time I was feeling long term and possibly permanent chastity might give me sanctuary from the disappointment my penis could go through long periods of irrelevance. It’s cyclical longings only served to remind me of its plight.

Something new happened this time. Cheyenne embraced the value of chastity as if she had an epiphany in seeing it as a win win approach to our current state of sexuality. Her strong stance encouraging me to remain locked now has a certain momentum and purpose I only dreamed of before. We are in our ninth continuous week. I’ve been unlocked for sex every other Sunday for a little over an hour but not allowed to orgasm or enter her. She enjoys orgasms in the manner and duration she chooses and in turn my gratification come from the pure physical indulgence of contributing to her pleasure and from one of two giant strapon dildos. Last week while the Colonel was buried deep inside me Cheyenne was able to orgasm from the motion and friction on her side. It was one of the most vulnerable and most intimate sexual moments we’ve shared together in a long time. Until now, I could tell Cheyenne was having fun with strapon play but it felt as if a line was crossed into a new realm where we could both find deeply satisfying sex from alternative roles.

We opened our marriage too. Cheyenne gave me permission to explore my sexuality with men, only men. We also contacted a Pro Domme for mentoring Cheyenne. She is pretty slow responding but we remain very excited about Cheyenne learning and becoming even more confident sexually.

I’ve joined several male dating sites and now interact frequently with lots of strangers but have yet to have sex with anyone. After three to four weeks I’m not even sure I’m cut out for male-male casual dating. Engaging with male hookup culture as a married man with a locked penis has been a fascinating experience. Number one, having a female wife turns off a remarkable number of suitors. Two, completely safe sex knocks the potential matches down significantly more, especially if you consider blowjobs without condoms unsafe. Three, the coup de gras is a locked penis. Most can over look one or two of my status conditions but three has all but the nastiest fellas running for the hills. The nicest guy I’ve met (over coffee) happens to be a very large man who identifies as a Top Fister. He proclaims his hands are 13″ around. WTF? Cheyenne smartly asked if you want to get fisted don’t you typically look for smaller hands? Right. I’m not sure the whole fisting thing is a good place to start out but it certainly sounds fun to try. Like I said, the guy is genuinely nice and that’s one in a hundred so far.

The funniest observation has to be that it is patently obvious when someone I’m courting runs off and masturbates away their desire. It usually happens after asking for racy pictures followed by even racier comments and assertions about what they are going to do to me. The conversation falls flat for a couple days and resumes with “Sup, I want to ____”. Nice. As a locked man my sexual desire remains highly constant. For the first time I can see what I can only imagine drives women mad when courting men. I asked Cheyenne if she’d noticed this effect when dating and she almost spit her wine out laughing telling me now I’m more like a woman so I can finally see it. It’s a huge pain in the ass for women to watch men go hot and cold as the get turned on and wank away their desire. She dubs it Male PMS.

Yeah, not in Kansas anymore…

 

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Hidden pleasure

Eight plus weeks locked without orgasm isn’t much for some just follow the likes of Thumper. For me, it’s a new record and a new level of experience. Add to that, it’s been about twelve weeks since I’ve been inside Cheyenne. My body isn’t resisting and striving for it’s old ways with the same ferosity. There’s a new kind of pleasure slowly evolving from the back flow of desire. Small things like rubbing Cheyenne’s legs and feet are suddenly very pleasurable. My hands transmit feelings of her soft warm skin through my hands to my mind where they’re  soaked up by pleasure sensors, the ones my penis used to use.

Cheyenne has talked about keeping me locked for a “long time”. She’s also talked about needing penis sometimes so it’s hard to surrender completely to the experience knowing it could end in a moments notice. I’ve reached a point where the ever present buzz of chastity has surpassed the infrequent and fleeting  pleasure of sex. Chastity and orgasm denial fits my physical and psychological needs is ways sex never did. Denial until truly desired is a gift.

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Unsure

If you’ve been following recent events on this sporadic blog you’d know Cheyenne has allowed me to date men to satisfy my bi side. After joining several sites and chatting with a couple dozen male Doms the things I’m looking for begin to take shape against the reflection of these Dom’s preferences and rules of engagement. When someone comes on hard and fast I realize building trust and earning each other’s D/s roles is important to me. Some want contracts, others control outside of the scene, some insist of complete hairlessness. I find myself confused with how to juggle the requirements of the Dom’s rules and requirements against my primary relationship with Cheyenne. In some ways it’s easy and obvious, Cheyenne is first. Always. But what about requirements to provide pictures on demand, checking in at prescribed intervals, becoming completely hairless below the neck at all times? How do these semi static requirements fit in with Cheyenne’s need to be in the know but not into every detail? If I show up waxed from neck to toe will that he too much? What if I really like that particular Dom, is it a deal breaker because Cheyenne’s preferences come first? 

I remain uncertain how to proceed and there’s no playbook other than communication and trial and error. Yesterday, I was in a bit of a funk over losing a unicorn and struggling with the complexity of all the Doms I’ve interacted with. Cheyenne asked if there was something she could do to support me and in a moment of clarity I told her I needed her to keep me locked, to fuck me hard and regularly, and of course allow me to pleasure her often. When I’m honest with myself it’s possible to have mind blowing experiences with others but the closeness and intimacy I already have with Cheyenne is a superior foundation to base new and edgy sexual experiences from. It’s always been about having complete intimacy and vulnerability with Cheyenne the male Doms may or may not be important in the long run. Time will tell. 

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Highs and Lows

After two weeks of chatting with a prospective boyfriend, he decided Cheyenne and I weren’t a good fit for what he was looking for. I’m feeling disappointed and pretty bummed out at the realization I’m not just looking for a playmate, but hunting a fucking unicorn. I clearly don’t belong in either the straight or gay scene and the grey area between is strikingly empty. In some ways I feel more alone than ever.

With a little advice from Drew I joined a couple men’s dating sites (for those not up to date Cheyenne is comfortable with me playing with men but not women) and chatted with a flurry of different people but the process while efficient felt shallow and disconnected from the intimacy I’m looking for. We’ll see how it plays out over time. 😉

Meanwhile, I remain locked in my device. I’ve been locked since early January initially locking myself and giving Cheyenne the key. Luckily, now Cheyenne wants to keep me locked only generously unlocking me when we have sex but never allowing penis inside her or me to come. I’m never given he expectation to be inside her or to come but the desire to do so is so intense that I helplessly beg for her permission even though I’m getting exactly what I want and need in denial.  For a couple days after sex the desire to be inside her and to come burns white hot in my mind and body and the only outlet offered is to rub Cheyenne legs and feet for her pleasure. Even in this mundane act of pleasure penis responds by swelling with futility in its cage. Cheyenne smiles back at me with content.

In the past six weeks my chastity has slowly become a reliable positive in my day to day. Through all the stresses, frustrations and disappointments of the past six weeks my locked penis has steadily emitted a low grade sexual buzz. Although frustrating in its own right, knowing penis is excluded from the role almost every other male considers entitled to helps me feel a deep acceptance with who I am and the way my life has molded me. Part of me is seriously considering permanent chastity. For now, my wife, the person who cares about me most and knows me deepest has chosen this for me. I love her deeply and completely and remain excited about where our relationship is headed.

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The power of choice

I still haven’t come down from the intensity of Sunday’s sex with Cheyenne. It’s been more of a slow simmer, a silent drowning as my intense desire to pleasure myself gasps for a sliver of repsite from the immobilized penis. Wave upon wave of undulating desire heightens my sexual awareness of limitation feeding back into the next set and so on. 

It feels different this time. In the past Cheyenne would agree to lock me. This time, while being intensely sexual with me, after considering all her options she chose chasity for me…most importantly, she chose it for her! That was the catalyst for my pleasure I’ve been seeking. 

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When it clicks

Yesterday was a great day. To start, Sunday’s easily win over weekdays but Sundays are when Cheyenne and I have a reliable sitter. Adult time once every two weeks makes heightens the excitement of preparing to make the most of our couple of hours.

The morning started out in a very different way. The little one was up extra early so we spent the early (before sunrise) hours playing while Cheyenne slept. Our regular coffee machine was out for service so I spent an eternity fiddling with a backup machine ravenously working for a hit of caffiene. The rhythm of the morning was different.

A few hours later Cheyenne met us downstairs with a fuzzy rested glow about her. She immediately started to tell me about having boyfriend dreams. I was immediately tingling inside and swelled against my cage as she explained the comfort she felt as she cuddled her boyfriend in her dream. We talked about how important it is to feel we lived this life in the fullest possible way. We reconnected on the importance of not hastily tossing a grenade into our charmed life. I felt Cheyenne had found a new ease to think about exploring relationships with other men. It felt healthy and full rather than hurtful or jealous as I read her face for clues to how she felt her warm fuzzy morning glow mixed with smiles and the rosiness of her cheeks. All was well.

Then she turned her warmth to me and asked what I needed to experience. I wasn’t prepared and stumbled trying to adjust to the turn of her focus. Realizing the moment was real I dug deep but found a familiar distrust sharing the ambiguity I wrestle with when sharing my need for the unknown. Unknown is what I come up with because I haven’t really experimented much to know what’s going to light me up in reality…and I want to get it right for fear it’s my one and only chance. Snapping back into the warmth of our conversation Cheyenne reminded me that experimenting with another woman felt too challenging for her right now but she was open to me experimenting with another man. She didn’t have any hang ups about me with men other than health and safety. She said I should go out and figure out the things I enjoy doing with men so long as she’s always 100% in the know.  Oh… wow. I’ll digest this for a spell but I’m excited about it and suddenly feel challenged with finding my flavor of experimenting. I leave that for another post.

The morning got better after the sitter came and we retreated to our bedroom. I was immmediately ordered to kneel. As Cheyenne reached for her paddles and whipping instruments my mind swelled with ideas of things I needed to be punished for. I reached in anticipation for the impact of her paddle but the snacks were too loud given our sitter was just downstairs.  I was ordered to remove my cage and told in no uncertain terms that I would not be coming, that releasing me was for her entertainment. I was ordered to the bed as she donned the General. This was our third time with the General and each time the motions get more graceful and easier for both of us. She fucked me more intently than ever before calling me out for the slut I am and reminding me that this was the only sex I’d be getting from now on. She finally saw there was no point unlocking me for sex and having to deal with my emotional ups and downs, especially the distance I exude from the mix of post orgasm hormones. Hearing her tell me I’m not getting unlocked, that she sees that my penis is really useless was like hearing a beautiful song made for my ears. I felt complete in that moment filled in every way with her intent and warmth.

When she was done she ordered me to cleanup and relock but I wouldn’t fit back in in my aroused state. I was allowed to pleasure her with everything I had except my penis. My body, fingers and mouth yet again proved the uselessness of having a penis as I could feel her warm and envelop my every motion in a rhythmic unrestrained creciendo of lust. I could have stayed there all day basking in the beauty and taste of it all but I know if I start rubbing both of her feet within a few seconds of orgasm I can keep her reverberating  waves of pleasure for a long time afterward.

We layed there together for a while enjoying the moment. Then she authoritatively ordered me to relock. I’m not sure where this is going or what will come next but I’m enjoying this ride.

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