November 29, 2005

Tuesday, November 29, 2005

I’ve been keeping a little secret from all of you readers. All readers, except for one. And she knows who she is.

I don’t know if it has been a month ago or not, but some time ago I got an email from a regular reader who was not a regular commenter. I’m not sure how she found me (I’ll have to ask) but she was intrigued by me and my writing. I became intrigued by her and her writing.

I’m lousy at keeping up with people through email. I let things lapse for days, weeks and months sometimes, especially social contacts. For work you can’t afford to let those go, but you’re not writing anything very long, hopefully. It’s a lot more simple communicating facts and directives than thoughts and feelings. That’s probably why we see fewer male bloggers than female ones, and male bloggers generally turn over faster and update much less. I write for the blog simply because I have the heart of an entertainer, although not the face of one. I enjoy my audience and hope they enjoy me. It’s the audience that helps motivate me to write, although I would write anyway, but just not as faithfully. Writing for an audience of one is just less appealing for me.

At least until she showed up. I’m going to call her Cleopatra, since it does reflect a certain regal bearing that she has in her writing and even in her voice. I might shorten it to Cleo eventually because I like short names.

Her voice?

I’m getting to that, relax.

We swap emails on a near-daily basis. We discuss almost everything and anything.

Everything? Anything?

Well, yeah, just about. Remember, she is a regular reader of this blog so she is privy to the same deep, dark secrets as everyone else who reads. But she never comments. At least out where you all can see. But I get feedback from her on these topics and then we have our own line of conversations. Sometimes those thoughts end up on here, and sometimes they don’t.

Waitaminit, was she the one…?

Yes, she’s the one who asked the infamous question about oral sex that took Blogland by storm a while back. So, in a way, she has posted before. She freaked a bit when I quoted her, but when she saw the avalanche of responses it triggered, she liked her secret celebrity status. Cleopatra likes to be adored although she is almost as camera shy as I am. She knows that I’m rolling her out before you all, for an initial public viewing, such that it is.

So this is a bit of a milestone. I’ve been blogging over a year (sorry to Cleopatra and the other readers who never saw my old blog) and this is the first time anyone has ever been able to sustain that sort of interest. A few have tried to get ahold of me by email and engage me but none ever hit it right. She did.

But there is another milestone reached with Cleopatra. I’ve been on the internet over 10 years, active in Usenet, message boards, bulletin boards, Fidonet, web pages, chatrooms and all mediums of discussion and debate one can do via electronic text. But I have never talked to anyone I met in one of these forums over the phone. I got married too early to hit the online dating boom.

You talked to her on the phone? Did you have phone sex?

Easy. I’m getting there. It was during my overnight trip out of town last week that I did call her up. Yes, I was naked while we talked. Yes, she was naked while we talked. But no, we did not have phone sex. Neither of us knew the other was naked until long after the phone call! In fact the phone call had more religious/theological/Christian overtones than anything else. We talked for 2 hours until my phone card expired. And now we’re just doing the email thing for now. No, I do not have a cell phone. Glad I don’t, now. I would be incurring serious overcharges!

Are you attracted to this woman or what? Are you thinking about cheating? What ARE you thinking?

There is no way, under the conditions that I presently live in, that I could NOT think about life with someone else, in other circumstances in another place at another time. Cheating is a different thing. Cleopatra has been very generous with her overtures without being tacky, forward or even annoying. But she has been respectful beyond anything else. She does have a life of her own beyond what we have through email. I am very fond of her as she has been nothing but supportive and patient. You all have been supportive and patient too, but I like having a slightly more personal and private place to go with things. Cleopatra provides just that sort of place. While I don’t see her posting here, she might still be a good source of entertainment for you all. And me. She has agreed that she might like to be a virtual keyholder. “Virtual” being she doesn’t necessarily have personal possession of the keys but has control of them, nonetheless.


Don’t get *too* excited. We’ve been down this road before…Haven’t we JeN??LOL!

I’m thinking I’ll wait for the 100 days to pass before embarking on new chastity adventures. Since I’ve gone this long, it would be a pity to simply give up when I’m so close to reaching another milestone in my life of semi-celibacy. While the prospect of getting to 100 days has been enticing, I have not stopped trying to put an end to the streak.

Last night, I actually went to bed earlier. Not at 8:15 when Arwyn turned in, but 10:30 is quite early for me. She was still awake or maybe woke up when I brushed my teeth but she just stirred. I extended my hand and put it on her hip. It might have drifted down to her butt for a time and she tolerated this for a time. Somehow, later in the night I ended up embracing her feet.

A note about sleeping positions (again). With her head at the opposite end of the bed and facing away from me, I can have decent access to the lower part of her body. With her on her side, facing away and curled up, if I turn toward her, the soles of her feet are right there. Since she wasn’t wearing socks, and her feet weren’t covered up, it was just a matter of hugging them right up to my bare chest to keep them warm. In the grogginess of sleep, it seemed the most natural thing in the world. She tolerated this very well most of the night, and it represents about the most intimate thing we’ve done in 3 months. Longer than that, sleeping wise. I would love to fall asleep draped over her, or intertwined or her spooning me or even her laying on top of me for a time. I long to touch and be touched. For us to cleave to one another.

She awoke at about 4:30 and she went out to get on the computer. But she was unable to do anything because it was automatically doing a virus scan and update. I got up soon after and we talked for the next hour. About the kids. It’s always about them. She finally went to take her shower. I started some breakfast, and then got in the bathroom just after she finished. I started to hug up on her a bit, and she simply continued to get dressed. I managed to steal a quick kiss. Once again, my touches and hugs were tolerated. Not anticipated and not enjoyed. Certainly not reciprocated or returned. I gave her a big from-behind hug and she stood still there, waiting for me to be finished. And then went on about her day getting the boys ready for school.

So it is against this backdrop that Cleopatra appears. I can discuss things with her beyond the kids, beyond autism and disabilities and the daily grind and she’s not afraid to converse about sex. She likes sex. She has some experience with chastity and Domming. And she doesn’t seem to be repelled by me. She doesn’t merely “tolerate” me like one tolerates oppressive heat, or mosqitoes or cold, rainy weather. Of course her involvement with my daily life is limited to emails, so who knows what real life would actually be like. We just have a number of things in common.

For fans of Return to Happiness, Chris has a character called Paris LaQuinta. I see Cleopatra serving a similar literary niche here. And then some. The telephone call put Cleo in an elevated category that I thought warranted at least some mention here. The keyholder bit gives her an even larger role. In the grind of the struggle that I’m engaged in, it is good to have something to look forward to. I’m sure more coverage will follow. Feel free to discuss.




November 29, 2005



I Wonder if she’ll read this one. What follows is a bit written directly to Arwyn along with some other content.

93 days.

93 days of involuntary celibacy. I know I never specifically asked for this. I never dreamed that when I got married I would be presented with this scenario. I remember you promising that you would never cut me off. Maybe I should have read the fine print. Somewhere in the marriage vows there was a pledge to love honor and cherish as long as we both shall live. I know that I have had lapses. Some of them more serious than others. But I have tried to correct them.

When I asked you when the last time was that you did something selfless for me, you had to reach back an entire month to think of one thing. My birthday cake. Was that something you did because you cared enough about me? Or was it another duty and obligation? I don’t buy you candy out of duty or obligation.

I do it from love in my heart

Do you really need a Mountain Dew or Coconut Carmels? Do I have to give you these things? Would you hold it against me if I didn’t?

I do them because you enjoy them. If there is something that brings you joy, why wouldn’t I do it? I’m not holding these over your head or lording them over you. I’m just using these things as small examples of how I express my love and caring for you. I try to touch you affectionately with no expectations other than some smallish acknowledgement. But instead, I am called selfish. I am accused of only thinking about sex.

Yes, I think about sex. But I spend much, much, more time thinking about real intimacy. I think that if I ever found myself in the arms of a woman who would hold me as I long to hold and be held, I would cry. Deep, mournful, runny-nosed sobs that would shake my whole body. I am entering a deep sadness that defies words and goes to the roots of my soul.

I remember being in the army, standing at attention having to be straight rigid and stoic. Some clown behind me murmured something funny and I began laughing, nearly doubling over and holding my sides, desperately trying to hold it together. A situation only made worse by the snickering of my comrades. Every time I would almost regain composure, one of them would begin snickering, and it would all start again, me trying to stop laughing with embarrassing futility. Until a thought rescued me from my involuntary mirth.

When Ellen (See Dead Ringer) abandoned me 15 years ago, it was the single most painful and agonizing thing in my life. My soul was ripped out by its roots. With a thought of that experience, I instantly regained my stoic, nonmirthful composure. That one memory could instantly extinguish any laughter and any joy that I would ever experience if I allowed it in. It worked that day in the Army like a switch. It was the most painful and traumatic bit of abandonment I would ever emotionally experience.

Until now. Time has faded Ellen’s memory and the hurts associated with it. While it was a soul-ripping experience, it was relatively quick. The scar lingers, as do the effects.

Today I have begun the realization of a new abandonment. Instead of taking a few weeks this has persisted for years. I am just beginning to feel the terrible effects as they have penetrated walls and emotional levees built to protect against those sorts of floods.

It is the prophetic nightmare of this anguish that haunts our children in the middle of the night, disturbing their sleep. Moans of deep anguish escape my own lips while I sleep. The ghostly pall of the bitter bile of resentment permeates the entire house like a poisonous fog.

How long will this noxious stench infect us and the lives of our children? How long must they inhale the ghastly fumes of a marriage decaying like a rotting corps? Has our house turned into an emotional tomb?


Aneros Trial

November 27, 2005


This thing is amazingly comfortable. I lubed it and my posterior up after givng it a preliminary washing. The directions say to lie on one side and then bring one knee up to your chest to insert it. I did that and it was in before I knew what happened.

It wasn't all that exciting, though. I mean it was there, no doubt. But is was almost too comfortable. I flexed my PC muscles a bit and could feel it working somewhat, but it will probably take some practice. And deprivation. It was so comfortable that I got up and took my shower and left it in. Then I wondered…

I got myself up to a nice, full erection and the sensations seemed a lot more intense. At the same time those sensations were distracting. I did enjoy the contradicting push-pull feelings and the Aneros definitely intensified that sensation. I decided not to go for broke at the time, but finished my shower and left it in for awhile. I got dressed and did a few things around the house. I was able to sit or lay comfortable enough which was surprising considering how the handle sort of sticks out. It's the only visible part of it, as the other curved part contacts the perineum, getting the prostate from the other side. When I removed it, it came out as easily as it went in. I put it in again, this time just standing up, and it slipped back in with no trouble.

Okay, one technical hygienic note for the (other) butt virgins reading. Graphic-ness follows. Surprisingly, it came out pretty clean. Yeah, there was some poo on it, but not very much at all. I thought it might look all gross and disgusting, but it was okay. It was easy to clean and wash for the next time.

I think I could have sex with my wife with this thing in and she'd never notice. It might be just the thing, but I could't tell her. If she thought I was fucking her with something up my butt she'd freak. But it might intensify things for me.

I'm going to have to post some questions to the CB list about this thing. Exactly how is it used for milking? Has anyone else used it by themselves with success? Any medical advice as far as using it to prevent prostatitis? (There is at least one M.D. on the list).

I'm thinking the sensations with the cage on will be much more intense. Because of the way the cage works, the prostate does invite more sensations as any erection backs up in that direction. Also, after a few days or weeks of no release, things will be more sensitive. I think it will definitely sweeten the chastity experience.

I don't suppose anyone else has walked around work with a butt plug in all day? Or this particular one? Sleep with it in?

This is not a well-discussed topic 'round the bloggers I frequent. Chelsea Girl is the only one I know of who has reliably covered the topic and her odes to anal ravishment run in a different (still fascinating) direction.

For those with any kinky disposition whatsoever, I highly recommend some exploration and experimentation. Just for my purely selfish aim of having others to discuss it with.

I used to think I'd never get into an anal kink. I couldn’t imagine it and didn't want to. But desperate times lead to desperate kinks. Relating to my last post I'm guessing Normal would not have treaded the waters he trod if his intimate and vanilla sexual needs were being met. Or maybe his case is different having dived into the world of swinging while still being sated with his wife. In anycase, roughly one third to one half of male chastity device wearers arrived in their twisted state as their wives turned into sexual prudes. I know I'd still be all vanilla if Arwyn exhibited half the interest of most of the women that I regularly read.



November 26, 2005



I’ve spent a little time catching up on the Pretty Peanut/Not So Normal story and am so thankful NSN is posting more of his side of the story. It is greatly needed and appreciated. His voice sounds remarkably like mine in a lot of respects. I wish he would have left his archive intact, because I caught up with him only right before Peanut did. His latest offerings give a perspective that had me originally tuning in to him on a more frequent basis.

FWIW, I discovered NSN and PP independently, meaning that at some point I discovered Peanut’s blog after I had been reading Normal’s blog for awhile. I knew his wife had one but since I hadn’t spent time reading his comments, I never caught the one left by his wife. I actually followed her home from a comment she left somewhere else. I love getting in early on new blogs and hers looked promising, describing a marriage that was a train wreck. Then as I read both of them, I finally connected the dots. Double the pleasure for me.

I like both of them as writers. They are both honest and raw in their feelings, but neither are what I would call abusive towards one another. They are just honest, which readers of my blog should appreciate.

The main reason my readers should follow this saga is because it provides a lovely counterpart to mine, only you get both sides. Normal is a guy with a HL and a few kinks. Peanut is the LL of the pair and has admitted that she doesn’t even have sexual fantasies. That’s one of several red flags I see.

I identify ever so strongly with NSN in this. By his account, he felt neglected and shoved aside, almost to the point of abuse. His needs were trivialized and minimized. Reading Peanut, I do see this as a persistent thing. She still is either not getting it, or else she simply is not able to bridge over to where her needs and his can exist together peacefully. I can see and understand how he felt the need to go elsewhere for love and affection after feeling reviled and hated in his own house. He is still called immature, needy and unrealistic. That isn’t going to bring him back anytime soon.

At the same time, Peanut has been trying to make some effort. Or had, until NSN left. That move shook her to the point where she wasn’t sure if, when or how to proceed. Now that he’s back, her insecurities are pretty massive, which is understandable. As if the affair didn’t make her insecure enough.

It still comes down to the sexual bit, though. Peanut feels assaulted by sexual pressures all the time while Normal is enduring a virtual sexual desert. Is there any hope of these two bridging this divide? I’m not sure I have much to offer either of them, while I support them both.

Normal needs to make a more determined stand for his marriage, I think. Even if it will be his last stand, make it his best. I understand and know the feelings of hopelessness. A feeling of anger that only now, after all this pain, does your wife start to come around. Be compassionate but be firm.

As for Peanut, the victim role isn’t going to work on Normal. It might win fellow bloggers but it isn’t going to win Normal’s devotion. He hurt her very suddenly and very deeply. She hurt him peristently over a very long time. Both are hurtful and painful but only one qualifies as torture. The counseling is a positive step. If Normal gets an opportunity to go, I think he should take it as part of making a genuine effort. I also understand his cynacism.

If Arwyn turned around today, I would be wary and suspicious. I would spend a long time waiting for the other shoe to drop. It would be hard to enjoy whatever good times because the pain would still be there and the fear that I would have to endure it again would loom large, casting a long shadow over everything. I’m not sure if I could give in to the happiness and pleasure of the moment. Ever. If someone else came along and sparked feelings that brought me hope and pleasure, could I go back to the cold, unfeeling, uncaring bitch who made me feel so inadequate and miserable in the first place? And then heaped all sorts of guilt upon me for seeking solace in another’s arms? Seperation would be a very attractive option if only to escape the misery of judgement.

Having said all that, I don’t feel Normal has exhausted his options. He’s moved back in, which is good. He is being friendly and cordial which is good. It’s certainly better than what he was getting before the affair. But he’s got to make his time count. Make it matter. Posting again is part of that process.

I have given Arwyn more than enough warning. I’ve gone to great lengths. I still have some lengths to go, yet. But I am making the strongest stand that I can. If I got the resolve to leave, I’m not sure I could find it in my heart to ever come back. I’ve wandered the wilderness about long enough, I’m not going back to the slavery from which I came.


Black Friday

November 25, 2005



Not much new to report here. I've got a couple of new posts on Unsolicited Advice (finally!) that might get people thinking.

I'm at 90 days and haven't scheduled any engagements in the War for Intimacy. But one may be brewing. Today it arrived. Arwyn brought the Aneros in with the mail. It was discretely packaged in a box and her and the boys were instantly curious. No, she didn't know about it although I did put notice on our little joint blog that she rarely reads. So she is still curious. Fortunately, that was somewhat put off by a new book that arrived for the boys; Aesop's Fables. So while she read the book to the boys, I took it in the bathroom, liberating it from its packaging.

By the packaging claims, you'd think this was the answer to every man's orgasmic dreams instead of a medical tool designed to enhance prostate health. It comes with a breif set of directions and a diagram showing all the parts of it. It does admonish the wearer to not try to massage by moving the thing manually, but by using the PC muscles to move it. That'll take some practice.

The thing is much heavier and sturdier than it looks in pictures. That was the first thing that grabbed my attention when I picked it up. But I have not had a chance to try it, yet. Since I've been wanking pretty regularly, it will probably take some days in the cage before I can fully appreciate it.

The cage is repaired. I bought new locks. I have my new toy. I might even have a new virtual keyholder. The stage is pretty much set. Now it's almost time to put players in motion for a run up to Christmas.

I'm reluctant to start, though. I'm still wishing Arwyn would get a clue, but this does not appear likely. I really do not want to celebrate 100 days of involuntary celibacy. I suppose locking up would be one way to short circuit that because then those locked up days would be voluntary, sort of. I'm also liking being up until midnight or longer by myself, blogging or playing games. I also like sleeping as late as possible. But these are not healthy for my relationship, so they are bad habits that the cage is well capable of bringing under control.

Note to self: Make sure to buy more toilet paper before embarking on this adventure.

I'll do it within 7 days for sure unless some catastrophic event takes place. Like passionate sex or some other fiction.


Thanks for the Punany

November 23, 2005



Am I going to have to be reading about what all of you are thankful for this week? Well, if you can't beat 'em…

-I am thankful for all of YOU! You have all lifted me up more than I could have imagined when starting this blogging lark.

– I am thankful to have ordered THIS.

I'm thankful everytime I get a complete, clean flush.

– I'm thankful that my youngest is on the cusp of mastering potty training now that he is almost 4.

– I'm thankful for the health of both children.

– I'm thankful that my wife appears to be friendlier and more cordial

– I'm thankful for my health despite my own abuse of my body

– I'm thankful that we have two vehicles that are healthy

– I'm thankful for my vigor and passion.

Okay, there's a lot of other things, like air, food, water, house, clothes and money in the bank (at the moment) but I'm not ready to make another 100 list.

Entering into the holiday season, I'm ready to launch into some festive chastity cheer. The massager will arrive any day now, I've got the material to fix the cage and bought a couple of new locks. Hmm. The last time I was locked up correlates with the last time I had sex. Coincidence?

Hotel sex is always great. Even when it's by myself. I can lounge around naked without alarming anyone…almost anyone. My apologies to the maid, if she's reading.

And I can watch stuff on HBO that I normally would never get to see. Like an episode of Real Sex, where they had a Domme that specialized in latex. In addition to her latex demonstrations, it showed her dominating her cute little sub with some slapping, whipping and other domly activities. It was interesting watching the sub's face during some of the whipping and slapping. It was a look of pure bliss. This contrasted with the young woman who had latex painted on her. While the Domme liked applying the latex, it was clear that her favorite part was ripping it off, while her unsuspecting victim yelped. The latex suction bed was another definite favorite. He was rendered almost totally immobile and helpless while the Domme tickled him, making him squirm and writhe as much as he could.

The other part of the show I saw dealt with the Punany Poetry Society. This was an interesting and arousing segment dealing with African American women reading and acting out poetry celebrating African-American Punani. Apparently there's some disagreement about the definition of Punany. One guy claimed that the Indonesians translated it as "Rotten Pussy." A young woman took exception stating that the West Indian tranaslation meant "Sweet Pussy." That's about all the dialogue I caught, being more interested in the visuals.

Try this one at your family Thanksgiving dinner: "Please pass the punany."



November 22, 2005

Shoot. I feel bad about leaving everyone hanging, but I'm going out of town for a couple of days to take care of some business. Then there's Thanksgiving and all that.

Since deciding to leave town, there's little to no friction. Except for the frustration, of course.

Day 86, anyone?

Arwyn has said it in the past, and seems to be sticking to it now, where she says we have to go back to being friends before she can feel sexually attracted to me. She has shown some affection but nothing romantic or sexual. So, if she wants to just be friends, does that mean I can see other people?

Friendly intimacy is different than husband-wife intimacy. I don't remember God saying “Cleave to your wife and become one flesh after being friends for awhile.” We are either cleaving or we are not. Are we already cleaved together? Or were we ever?

This evening, I spent time trying to hit some of Arwyn's love languages, namely quality time and acts of service. I changed the oil in her car and then made chicken nuggets with onion rings for dinner…one of her favorites. Then we sat down and ate as a family and the kids actually did well tonight as opposed to the meltdowns of the past couple of nights. Then after they were put to bed, I spent time watching HGTV with her for a bit. She showed absolutely no inclination towards any romantic/sexual notions and ended up finishing up some housework before going to bed. I'm a bit put off by that.

If I'm going out of town for any length of time, I would think a smart wife might at least make some effort to contend for her husband by sending him off with a good memory to bring him back. I notice Desperate Husband's wife doesn't get this concept, either. Of course, a “Welcome Home” fuck would be just as effective provided there was some teasing or play over the telephone while away. But that isn't happening either. At least not with Arwyn.

I plan on doing some writing while I'm gone, but we'll see. You know how that goes.