All the orgasms

I was talking over the finer points of orgasm vs. “ruined orgasm” vs. ejaculation with Thumper on his blog – as one does – and he linked to a piece where he discusses the difference, in his dynamic, between what constitutes an orgasm and what really does not. I see myself in a lot of what he’s describing, the actual goings-on are probably universal to most if not all men. And that got me to thinking: I think I know that any ejaculation is an orgasm in my dynamic, but do I know? I better discuss this with Bear.

So we did. Discuss. And, yep, around here, if the dick twitches and there is semen coming out, that’s an orgasm. No matter how calm that feels or how “ruined”. And it’s not something I’m allowed to do without express permission. I thought that was what the rules were, but it was good to make that explicit one more time. The key to that is what Bear thinks an orgasm is, not any kind of Universal Truth about orgasms.

This does however conflict with something else Bear said – probably about a year ago at this point: He wanted me to “milk myself” for prostate health. And, it turns out, that’s just not a thing for me. Without some form of stimulation of the dick, I don’t ejaculate; and when I do ejaculate, see above, it’s an orgasm, one of those Things Not Allowed.

So I asked Bear how he wanted to handle that. Suggestions I had were to just drop the idea of “milking for prostate health” entirely, I’m perfectly happy to only come when he wants me to. The other ideas were to use the electro-stim toy we have or manual stimulation to induce a “ruined orgasm” in his presence, on a cadence he sets, maybe while we’re doing something else: Reading, or watching something, or playing a game while on the couch. It can take a while, and I certainly didn’t mean to suggest he’d have to pay attention to my dick the entire time.

He mulled it over briefly, and then announced: “I think I’d like to make you come more often. When I’m feeling better.” (He’s got a nasty cold right now)

“Oh?” I said.

“Yes,” he said. “Maybe once or twice a month.”

“Oh wow,” I said.

“I like seeing you come, and it’ll be good for your prostate,” he said. “Let’s try it for a little while.”

All right then. For a little while, during sex with Bear, I’ll be having all the orgasms, all the time. At least that’s what “once or twice a month” feels like now. It’s not up to me whether I come all the time or none of the time, and I really dig that.



I don’t need to come (close)

Failure attitudes are a thing around here. My attitude is “I haven’t failed, I just found 1,000 ways that don’t work.” Bear’s attitude is a bit harsher. He’s working on that. Heh.

We’re some 4 years – is that right? – into orgasm denial without a device, and I keep coming when I’m not supposed to. In that time, though, there’s been progress. I learned not to use toys in my ass when playing with my dick, because, well, it seems obvious in hindsight. As does a lot of stuff.

I learned to let go of the idea that I was due an orgasm. I’m not. I don’t need to come, really.

I learned to stop obsessing about how long it’s been. I used to know to the day; now I need to check my Dorky Orgasm Tracker to find out.

I got better and better at edging and not coming, but, ultimately, not good enough.

And then, about a week ago, something that I had read about many times finally clicked: Willpower is finite. The best way to avoid giving in to temptation is to remove temptation.

We still don’t use a device. And even when the one we’re getting from Steelworxx arrives, it still won’t be used on a regular basis. Removing temptation by removing the dick is right out.

Removing temptation by an order not to stroke at all doesn’t work, either. We tried that. I get resentful. And eventually I disobey and come anyway. There’s that finite willpower thing again.

If I will stroke myself, and I keep coming without permission, eventually, even if after weeks or months, when I get close – well then the solution would be not to come close. Seems so obvious all of a sudden. If I don’t need to come, I also don’t need to come close. At least not by my own hand.

What we’re trying right now is modifying a few decades of masturbatory habit. Instead of stroking until I am close and then stopping – edging – I stroke until I am close to being close, if that makes sense. And then wait for at least 30 minutes. If I actually do get close, that’s it for the day. Oh, and there’s a limit to how often I can stroke per day. Determined by a die, the sheer nerdery of it all.

So far so good. I don’t feel resentful, I feel grateful. I get to indulge in the fantasy of being “perpetually aroused”, which I’ve had since I was a teen, and which Michael Manning explores so wonderfully. I’ve had a few days where I’ve been crawl-up-the-walls horny, the kind of day that would have resulted in ejaculation before, and all that happened is that I “almost came close”, instead of “almost came”.

I’ll know in a few weeks whether this approach is helpful. And if I’m very lucky, in a few months that it worked – but I am completely open to the outcome of “needs more tweaks”.


Sir and pet

Since my last “here’s everything that happened since 2016” post, there’s been good progress. Bear told me that he wanted to talk about my being his pet again, since he felt awkward every time the topic came up. A few days later, we sat down and discussed it. He is now my Sir, and I am his pet. It’s been — I don’t even know how long since we last tried that. Over a decade, I think.

To fill that with life, we have some “touchpoints” throughout the day. Hitting them consistently is a team effort.

In the morning, while still in bed, we check in with each other, ask how each other’s night was, and make a point to touch.

I make breakfast for Bear and serve him coffee kneeling (and if the weather is warm enough, naked) – that’s not changed, we’ve been doing that.

We embrace before Bear goes to work.

When Bear comes back from work, we check in with each other, ask how each other’s day was.

In the evening, just before getting into bed, we embrace. Bear tells me “I share myself with you, pet” and I tell him “I give myself to you, Sir.”

Once we’re in bed, Bear checks in with me to ask me how I have been doing with orgasm control that day.

I love the emotional connection this gives us. The structure is incredibly helpful to deal with the fact that we both have jobs and sometimes busy lives and it’s easy to let D/s be swamped by the day-to-day. Having specific points in the day to reassure each other of our love for each other and our roles in the relationship is truly lovely.

Bear has made a point of telling me what he wants me to do that day. It’s becoming quite common for him to say something along the lines of “Make sure to pay this bill today, pet”; or “I want you to fix the button on this shirt for me, pet.” I’m thriving on it.

Our couples therapist, T., asked Bear why he wanted control, and he answered “to feel safe”. She cautioned Bear that having control and having control over someone are two very different things, and if dominance – “control over” – is not true to his self, going down that path will be dis-empowering, not empowering.

He’s still feeling his way along, for sure. He asked for my support, and he has it. We’re in this together. Regardless of where this leads. Bear may find that having “control over” is truly in his nature, or he may find that he just wants control to feel safe, and “control over” is not something that really works for him. Either outcome is fine. To get there, he’ll need to experience what “control over” feels like. So far he seems to like it. Yesterday, he told me he might want to pick my clothes for me, now and then.

Mistress Sky, who is helping us tremendously with D/s mentoring, told us in our last meeting with her that she doesn’t have a read yet on where Bear stands with regards to D/s, either. And then she went on to say that, although she’s only seen me for submissive training twice, she’s asked me to give myself to her both times, and I did, and hence I am a “true submissive.” I’ll leave the implications that there might be “false submissives” to the side. She also keeps telling us that “Sir and his pet are so beautiful together.”
The positive reinforcement is welcome, actually, even as I recognize it for what it is. She is sincere in what she says, and I can do with hearing that what I’m after is good and wholesome and desirable.

I’m feeling better right now than I have been in years. The daily emotional connection and daily touch fills a need, as does being the pet in a D/s relationship. I can’t rightly explain this, and – I don’t want to live in a completely equal partnership. I am so much happier when I have a partner I can give myself to. There’s a part of me still that says “you’re out of your gourd” – I am in my late 40s and quite capable, so what am I doing wanting to be someone’s pet? And I can’t deny that when I live as a submissive man, I am happy and fulfilled, and when I don’t, I am degrees of miserable.

How does that jive with me saying that whatever Bear’s truth is, I am good with it, and I want him to get to it? Simply by wanting him to feel empowered and happy, and accepting all possible outcomes for our relationship. If being Sir to my pet is not in his true nature, our relationship will change. It may, very likely, end in that case, as Bear is in no way okay with non-exclusive relationship arrangements. And if that’s what needs to happen so we can both live true to ourselves, then that will be more than okay: It’ll be necessary and good.

I do hope that’s not how this ends, of course, and that Bear is most true to himself by being dominant. That’d be amazing. Also, truthfully, the easiest way forward. A breakup after 18 years together would hurt, and might get quite messy.

On the orgasm control side of things, the daily check-ins and touchpoints help a lot. I find that I crave that positive reinforcement more than I crave orgasm. I want to hear that “good boy” from Bear at the end of the day. I’ve been edging (getting myself close to orgasm and then not coming), and yesterday, with my body wanting release oh-so-very-badly, my own voice pops into my head and says “No! No!” sharply, followed by “Be a good boy.” And I was, and stopped before I came; and when I later told Bear about it, he smiled and praised me. Ah. Bliss.



Begging for it

We were going to run out to see the Germany – Brazil game (also: HOLY FUCK). In the driveway, I had one of those “too horny to stand” moments. A sudden surge of need and pleasure that has me struggling not to moan, and so I braced forwards against the car for a moment. “Are you OK?” Bear inquired. I told him I was fine.

Once in the car and on our way to wings and futbol, I told Bear what I had felt. He chuckled, then he told me that he was surprised when I had shared my fantasy about not coming until Thanksgiving, or our next anniversary. His birthday or our anniversary is what I had mentioned, actually, but close enough.

I explained to him that I was curious what long-term denial would feel like. That I was hot and bothered by the thought of coming just through being fucked by him. Not that I know that’s possible, I hastened to add. But I’d love to find out whether it’s possible. As long, you know, as I’m not going to get into trouble if I come by being fucked.

“Oh no,” Bear said. “If you come through nothing but the stimulation I give you, you’re not going to get punished.”

Well, that’s good to know. And, I explained, I know he loves it when I obey, and I want to give him more of that.

So I asked Bear again whether he preferred that I beg him not to make me come on my birthday, or he prefers that I stay silent and let him make the decision.

“How long has it been now?” he asked.

About 6-and-a-half weeks, I said, as if I didn’t know it to the day.

“And how long will it have been on your birthday?” he asked.

About 8-and-a-half weeks-and-a-bit, I said. Almost nine. Failing to pretend I didn’t know it to the day.

Bear thought for a moment. “I think I’d like it if you begged,” he said. “It emphasizes that it’s my decision whether you come.”

He paused. “You’re not going to be upset if I let you come anyway, are you?”

Now it was my turn to reassure him. “No way,” I said. “I love orgasm. I just love obeying you more.”

So, that’s settled. Come my birthday, I get to beg Bear not to make me come, to let me stay horny longer. And, maybe, he’ll indulge me.



Toy chest: The “dog leash”

The ancient greeks liked to do their sports and entertainment naked, and to avoid sand getting under the foreskin – yowch – and to preserve modesty, they tied the foreskin shut with a piece of leather. They called this contraption the Kynodesme, or “dog leash”.

A modern take on the same idea is to use a shoe lace instead of a leather thong. I had worn a Kynodesme previously, though not for a while. I put one on recently, tied it around the waist so my cock was pulled against my belly, and served breakfast to Bear.

He commented on it, asking me what it was. I wear a small wardrobe full of various cock bondage toys, as the mood strikes me pretty much, and Bear rarely comments. That he did was a clue that he liked this idea. I tried asking him about it, and put my foot firmly in mouth. I had started by saying “You don’t often comment, but you commented on this”, and Bear latched on to the “you don’t often comment bit” as criticism. Well oops. So, quick restart, explanation that I meant to say “I noticed you commenting on the Kynodesme”, not an attempt to criticize him. But boy communication can be difficult at times, about the simplest things.

What I learned was that Bear did like the Kynodesme. He thought it preserved my modesty, “instead of your big shlong flopping all over the place all the time.” Yes, he wouldn’t mind seeing it more often.

So I wore it again the next two days. Being teased while my foreskin is tied shut is a special kind of sensation. It’s much more frustrating than when I can enjoy a full erection. My cock is squished, and depending on how the Kynodesme is tied, bent back on itself a bit. Desperate for more sensation, but tied away.

I admit to trying to get out of it. When Bear gave me an opportunity to jerk him off, I asked him whether he preferred me fully erect. “This is fine,” he said.

Yes, yes it was. Of course it was.

Though frustrating. And even more so when he started playing with my balls, then just resting his hand on my shortened and bound package. Though, as frustrating as that was physically, I also really liked the feeling and sight of my cock “tied away”, and Bear idly teasing me. I felt very much kept. Which, if you’ve read this blog at all, is a thing with me.

Later, I asked Bear whether he preferred that I wear the Kynodesme every time I serve him breakfast, or whether I should switch it up. “Switch it up,” Bear said. To my relief. It’s a fun toy, this little piece of string. And I’m not going to wear it every day unless and until Bear requires that.

Go ahead, you kinksters with your devices. Snigger.