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…