Two Years in Permanent Chastity (with pictures)

"What anniversary?"

"Do you know what day this is?"

It's Thursday morning, the 29th of December and I'm bringing Xena her coffee in bed.

"No?" she says.

"It's my second anniversary," I say.

"What anniversary?"

 "My... my Neutering Day?"

"Oh," she says. "Not sure about Neutering."

I sigh. Xena just likes things her way, isn't interested in the skin we put on it. But sometimes I need a little certainty.  "What else am I supposed to call this?"

"But it sounds like you can't reverse it."

"Well, I can't can I?"

 "Not really." My wife sips her coffee. "So today I'm going to declutter my wardrobe and I want you to..."

That evening, as I rub Xena's feet, I say, "Can we finish this morning's conversation?"

Xena sighs. "You're being locked another year. We already know that."

"You normally say forever or 'until things change'."

"Yes, that," she says. "Are we done?"

"No," say. "I want to know your expectations."

"You do as I tell you."

"No, not that. I mean..." 

"Go on..."

Now I'm feeling flustered. Neither of us enjoy meta conversations. Quickly, I sum up what the ground rules seem to be: she doesn't want to know about my penis, when it's hard or dripping or whatever... she sometimes likes it when I suffer but doesn't want me to plead or yearn loudly for an orgasm because they are off the table... it's a done deal and I'm supposed to just deal with it... "So, I'm supposed to behave as if..."

"Yes," she says, firmly. "Neutered is the right term, though I probably won't use any term. Anything else?"

"You wondered what was special about two years? Two years is the honeymoon stage, and it doesn't look like we're reverting to 'normal'. Also, the longer something has lasted--"  

"--the longer it's likely to last. Good. Now shut up and put your collar on."

I massage her legs and feet for an hour. Around midnight, she has me kneel at the foot of the bed while she reads. 

Near one o'clock, when I'm just about ready to nod off, she orders me to face the wall. She spends an age using her vibrator while my arousal ebbs and flows in waves of exquisite frustration.

At last, she has me clean the sex toy and orders me to de-collar and come to bed.

As I lie beside her, turned on, wide awake while she breathes softly beside me, I realise I won't ever again make a fuss over how long I've been neutered. Xena's not interested in the passage of time, just the certainty of me remaining sealed in permanent chastity until "something changes".

Which it won't.

So, as promised here, behind the cut are some NSFW images of my chastity device, with evidence of date...

"The device is permanent, so there is no end point."

"You're permanently locked. No ifs or buts."

"Am I a good slave?" I ask.

I'm rubbing Xena's legs, kneading her luscious calves, and it's a genuine question. It's late Sunday evening, we're both feeling chilled and tired with a working week ahead, and Scandi Folk on Spotify.

"Yes," she says, "you are a good slave. I coudn't do what I do without you." Xena has quite a senior role in her organisation, and I support her the way a 50s housewife would support her executive husband, so that's really good to know.

There's a long pause. Then she asks, "Am I a good mistress?"

"Yes, you're the best possible mistress," I say. "I mean I'd like more attention, but you're genuinely wise and smart and I'd be sensible to do what you told me even if I weren't submissive."

"Good," she says. "Do the instep now."

I roll my thumbs over the instep of her right foot, then after about five minutes shift to her left. "Are we taking it in turns with questions?"

"Yes, go on," she says.

"OK..." 

I know what I want to ask, but I'm afraid. I think most malesubs suffer from the insecurity; Does she really like this? What about this particular kink? Is she just going through the motions for my sake?

But I want to know. 

"Permanently locked"

"The other day," I say,  "you said that you thought my device was 'simpler'. Does that mean it's grown on you?"

"Yes," she says, sleepily.

"I think it's supposed to be more than a one-word answer," I say.

"It's better," she says. "You're permanently locked. No ifs or buts."

The word 'permanent' has my cock go off like an airbag in its... permanent cage. I actually feel a kind of moist queasiness that's hard to describe. "You turn," I manage.

"No," she says. "I have nothing to ask. Ask another one if you like."

Xena's not normally this verbal about our relationship, so I press on. "Why you prefer me this way?"

"It's just better," she says. "It's good for you. Keeps you in your place."

"Like you have the penis?" I prompt - a theory of mine.

"No, not that," she says.

"In charge, then?" I ask. "Like I'm locked so you're in charge."

"Yes," she says. "It means I'm in charge... You're locked so I'm in charge." She yawns. "Ask another."

I move back to rubbing her calves. My penis is like a knot of lust in its cage. I sneak a quick probe and find the head is bathed in semen.

There's another question I'm scared of, this time because though I crave the most exciting answer, I'm also aware that I have control over it: just how big is this rollercoaster I'm committed to riding?

"Um," I say. "I'm scared to ask this... but what's the end point of this adventure?"

No answer.

I shift to long rolling strokes from crook of knee, over calf, to feet, scooping into the instep. A little later I say, "You've gone to sleep, mistress. I'll ask some other time."

She lifts her head a little. "No. I want to answer. Remind me of the question."

"What's the end point of this adventure? What triggers my release?"

"The device is permanent, so there is no end point."

 "Oh," says Xena, with a sleepy honesty and no sense of hamming it up for effect. "The device is permanent, so there is no end point."

I shudder. "Until something changes."

"Yes, that," says Xena, with less conviction.

"Yes, mistress," I say.

Then she goes to sleep.

---

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Ask Giles: What do you do if you have a row or spat while in chastity?

There are two aspects to this:

First, dynamic:

Worship isn't the same as "idealise". Nobody is perfect. Worship involves loving a whole person, and doing it from a submissive posture.

And, if you are (mostly) submissive to her in your relationship, it's still an actual relationship. Even the archetypal 50s housewife would put her foot down, push back against manly hubby. It doesn't change the underlying dynamic. FLR type dynamics - we're on the 6th year of ours - aren't day-to-day the same as 24/7 High Protocol relationships.

My experience is that when you're submitting in the bedroom, i.e. doing actual BDSM, in the context of a relationship, it stops being a game. You're submitting to the person, imperfections and all, and that's both hot and spiritually fulfilling: you're cross with her but you still have to do as you're told as if she really owned you... (This is probably dangerous heresy to some people, but it's where the undertow takes me, and it feels great.)

Second, chastity:

I think there's really two styles of chastity: keyholding and "neutering lite", in other words one is about dynamic, the other is about something akin gender identity. If you're drawn to long term chastity, then there's probably a bit of the second kind going on.

By way of illustration (not saying they are equivalent), you wouldn't stop being gay or trans or whatever just because you had a row with your partner; in the same way you need not stop being chaste.

Locked and Collared for Lockdown - 100+ Days of 24/7 Chastity

"The beatings are fierce enough that I am afraid of them."

There's a brutal logic. 

I don't get to orgasm while Xena is in the house, and Xena is working from home, therefore I've been locked since last time she took the keys, and I know not to pester.

Also, we're living on top of each other, and Xena being an aloof introvert needs her space, so every evening has seen me collared and more or less mute. I've also found myself overnight in my cell more than once.

She's too stressed out by running an organisation over Zoom for there to be much actual sexy time, but the discipline is harsh.

So lockdown has turned out to be an adventure for me, a trip into the heart of my own darkness. It's genuinely a little scary. I'm very at home in the shadow of my slavery and can't always see the way out. The beatings are fierce enough that I am afraid of them. My cell is a bleak place compared to my own bed. 

However, I've also never felt more fulfilled in my entire life.  

---

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Female Led Relationship when her attachment style is Avoidant and his is Anxious

"It hurt"

 My attachment style is Anxious, my wife's is Avoidant. It's the perfect storm of kink...

Last night I knelt naked on the floor while Xena sat on the bed, looking very retro an elegant hand knit cardigan, and went over our finances then the state of the house. The money is going OK (please buy my books!), but I have been an inadequate house slave.

So she had me chain myself up, then she beat me.

"My wife's attachment style is Avoidant."

It hurt, made me squirm.

My wife has the knack of not hitting the sweet spots of shoulders and across the buttocks. Instead the blows rained on my flanks or individual buttocks. By the time she paused, I was whimpering and scared.

She hesitated, then touched my buttock with the whip and I yelped, squirmed. That made her giggle.

She did her face and teeth in the en suite then resumed the beating.

Five minutes later I was huddled up on the floor close to sobbing - but also hard as a rock in my chastity cage.

"Unchain yourself. Rub my feet."

I put away the chains, eased pyjamas over my smarting skin. Then I knelt and rubbed her feet while she read. I had my collar on, which means mute mode, but I wouldn't have dared talk  anyway.

When she'd had enough, I knelt in the corner. She sent me on an errand to the kitchen then let me come to bed. No kiss good night, but it was nice to lie beside her.

About 430AM, something woke me. She was stirring. I asked her if she was OK and she merely sent me to my cell - her dressing room where I keep a camping mat.

At 630 my phone alarm went off. I woke in my collar and chastity cage, camping out in my cell, and all because my mistress wanted it. It's hard to describe how satisfying that was!

I slipped into the bedroom and knelt. She was actually awake, reading, but ignored me for twenty minutes until she wanted breakfast.

A bit later on there was a cuddle and a chat, but there have been times when she's barked orders then strode off to work leaving me in my collar with a long task list.

---

"We look like a perfect
middle aged couple"

So...

That probably all sounds as bleak as hell. And if you're into BDSM culture, you're probably wondering where all the check-ins were, the affirmative consent, the aftercare...

Totally absent.

There is a Safe Word, but it's for actual safety only.

And though I consent to all this, I'm aware it would be very hard to withdraw my consent. The Femdom might go away and with that the thing that makes our relationship work.

We've only understood this recently.

I'm an extrovert, but I get overloaded (I'm probably an "ambivert" or Highly Sensitive Person, or whatever). My attachment style is "Anxious", making me needy.

Xena is an introvert. Her attachment style is (probably) "Avoidant", making her aloof.

Needy and Aloof.

We were initially a good vanilla match.

She needed my extrovertism to help her reach beyond herself, I needed her introvertism to create a quiet space to retreat to. We could party together, but also sit quietly in the same room and read.

The attachment styles also worked.

She was attracted to my unconditional warmth, and I to her tranquillity and strength,

This is important. Couples complete each-other, help each other grow. There are positive sides to our attachment styles.

And the first few years of our relationship were about that. I'm no doormat.  I prodded and nudged her into discovering her warmer and more nurturing side, she set boundaries and taught me not to be too clingy.

And yes, perhaps I learned to settle for less. However, she learned to send out smoke signals to tell me how she felt: a well-thought gesture here, a perfect gift there.

Remember, whatever my reasons - the above could all be after-the-fact confabulation! - I wanted to be with her the way she was, and she likewise wanted to be with me. We only had to adapt a little to make it work. If she'd totally opened up, or if I'd totally shut down, it would have been a disaster.

"My wife liked hurting me."

We were also, of course, kinky from the start. However, the kink was sporadic. She was the world's worst service top, and never really into becoming the full-on  teasing, trash talking, fantasy facilitating dominatrix. She was also way too serious and literal to engage in any kind of fantasy roleplaying.

What she did like was (a) being served, and (b) hurting me.

Essentially, kink worked as long as we were doing power exchange "for real", rather than acting out negotiated scenes. When I finally came to embrace that, I had to let go of the prospect of lots of fun activities. The upside was that I got to experience my fantasies for real, and the fantasies quickly revealed themselves to be an orientation.

But before that slow illumination happened, time had to pass.

Life happened. Stress and fatigue stripped away some of what we'd learned, and we fell into the old dance: she'd be distant, I'd feel insecure and crowd her, she'd push me away, making me feel more insecure, making me crowd her...

"All her bugs became features"

Our Female Led Relationship fixed all this.

First, all Xena's bugs became features.

I suspect, on some level, her lack of easy warmth had always made her feel a little inadequate, and insecure, and thus irritated, and the irritation made her withdraw more, if only to get her retaliation in first.

Suddenly, all that cold disengagement is a good thing.

Not only does it make her unbelievably scarily hot when in full mistress mode, it also generates more authentic Femdom than you can shake a stick at.

She has permission to be ruthless, so she's ruthless.

She likes getting her way, likes being served, enjoys peace and quiet, sometimes likes the bed to herself.

She sets me chores and targets, beats me if I fail. She's off penetration or off my pensis, or doesn't think I deserve one - it's not clear - so mostly keeps me locked in chastity - I recently spent 11 months locked 24/7.

Every evening, I'm her mute slave, attending to her every need, sometimes sleeping in my cell.

That's been the tone of my life for the last five years. I am in sub heaven.

But there are also vanilla benefits. FLR let us square the circle, have our cake and eat it.

I'm insecure - right? -  and she has difficulty giving affirmations. But as I type this, I'm sealed into a chastity device and I spent last night sleeping in a collar. I feel owned, which is pretty much as secure as a man like me can get.

I need intimacy, she needs space. But last night, I knelt quietly, in her intimate space but not intruding on it.

"Our vanilla relationship
is warmer and fluffier than ever"

I need to be truly seen and known and valued, she dislikes fusses and introspections. But kneeling there in my collar and chastity device, taking her real world orders, I have all the acknowledgement I need, and all the validation I can take.

And Xena, who loves me and wants me to love her but can't reliably reach out to me in vanilla ways, and thus sometimes probably feels irritatingly insecure?

She knows she owns me, that I could never have something so darkly intense with anybody else. And perhaps the chastity device helps as well - who knows?

Small surprise then, now there are no hidden tensions to blight it, our vanilla relationship is warmer and fluffier than ever. We make time to go out and have coffee together at the weekends. Sometimes I walk her to work. We cuddle up in front of the TV, we cook together, we go on country walks and kick through the autumn leaves holding hands.

To an observer, we are probably the perfect middle aged couple, still in love after all these year.

How sweet.

But the observer wouldn't see my sealed on chastity device, nor my welts, nor the collar in the bedside drawer, the one I wore last night as I slept in my cell...

---

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Midweek Femdom: Last night, this morning

It's hard to blog at the moment. Here's why.

Last night, Xena had a report to read. I knelt at the end of the bed and mutely massaged her feet for an hour.

For those that have just tuned in, she keeps me in a Custom Chastity Saint. I was sealed for almost a year, then was released for a couple of weeks - I'm still processing that! - now I'm locked until a trip in a couple of weeks.

Honestly, she just wanted a foot rub while she worked. She was totally using me...

Which - plus she has nice feet - totally turned me on.

Then around midnight she beat me - I hadn't reached my daily wordcount. Sure, beating is a BDSM thing and turned me on. However, it hurt enough that today I'm typing like a lunatic. (I'm taking a break to write this otherwise my brain would explode.)

Finally, she banished me to my cell - her dressing room where I have a bedding roll amidst her boots and shoes. I closed the door but heard her rummaging in the toy drawer.

You see, the beating had also turned her on.

I had to lie there for half an hour, my buttocks smarting, my cock hard in its cage, while the vibrator buzzed in the next room. Then her light went off.

In the morning, I emerged to kneel on the floor until she wanted breakfast. Then coffee. She told me my tasks for the day, remind me about word count, and went off to work.

And that's pretty much routine for me.

Sure, the majority of the time we're just like any other couple, but that majority is pretty slim and distributed in the early evening. Every night at a minimum finds me kneeling on the floor waiting to be called to bed.

None of it is very epic, nor have there been any major high points... which is fine. This is as happy as I have ever been. I get more Femdom in a working week, than many subs my generation see in a lifetime.

Plus, it's real. 

None of it was scripted. The rules - the culture, if you like - of my slavery were negotiated. My wife can treat me like a slave if she treats me as a slave. I;m not a doormat, I'm a submissive. Within that framework,  she was pretty much suiting herself. 

Xena - an introvert - was peopled out, had work to do, wanted a foot rub, didn't want an audience when she masturbated, did want the bed to herself. It was as if the power relationship were real.

It turns me on just thinking about it. The snag is I can't wank and I have five more pages of erotica to write before she comes home...

---

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9 months of "permanent chastity" turns out to be FLR magic

"Go to your cell."

"Go to your cell, slave," says Xena, my wife of nearly a quarter of a century.

"Yes, mistress," I say, and scurry off into the dressing room. It's small and full of shoes and coats - smells of leather and woman - but there's room for a sleeping mat. What started off as a backstop for when I snored has ended up as an option whenever Xena wants the bed to herself - like this weekday night. I turn off the light and lie down.

 Service from an undemanding
chattel slave suits her.

I don't complain. I have my leather collar on, which means full stoic slave mode, no personality, no conversation. That also started as an occasional option. However, at the moment it's standard for the evenings - Xena has a big work project on, and doesn't have much social energy at the end of the day. Service from an undemanding chattel slave suits her.

Also, the fact she can do this to me turns me on horribly. I'm uncomfortably hard inside my Custom Chastity Saint, and have to arrange myself on my back.

Xena's light doesn't go off. There's a rummaging in drawers, then the buzz of a vibrator. Sated, she - apparently - falls asleep with the light on. I fall asleep eventually, and dream of Chastity Planet.

That was midweek.

(chaste dick pick behind the cut)

How Permanent Chastity Has Freed Me! (Guess what? Being sexually repressed takes time and energy!)

"Our relationship has changed."

"Our relationship has changed", I say. It's last night. I'm rubbing Xena's feet after a long day socialising.

"How?" she asks.

"You feel more in charge," I say. "For real. Like you just take it for granted."

"Yes I do... do the instep... is that good or bad?"

My penis heaves against its bars. It's been more than four months now. "Good," I say. "I can't imagine it not being good."

OK, realistically, the permanent chastity is just permanent as in "that window is permanently nailed shut". I can't possibly be trapped like this forever. However, my submission is now permanent. A couple of years ago, Xena said she could't imagine living any other way, nor could I. Now, any remaining doubt has gone. This is how we both work best as people and as a couple.

This is good not just as in, "Hurrah I'm a submissive and I get to submit!" It's also very suddenly freed up a lot of mental real estate.

At the end of my journey.

It turns out being sexually repressed takes up time and energy. I've spent years pondering my sexuallity, fantasising through writing Femdom fiction and...

A lot of the BDSM and chastity activities I used to obsess over, were only important because they pointed to to 24/7/???? submission and chastity.

Waking in chastity.

Spending a week locked.

Spending 24 hours as a slave.

Being disciplined.

Suddenly it's all technically possible, emotionally practical, relationship-friendly.

And here I am at the end of my journey.

I'm living my fantasy.

There's nothing left to think about. And no more stories I need to tell.

I've gone from "what if somebody got trapped in chaste submission" to "what if somebody ended up in my situation?" I don't need to explore my kink through fiction or blogging because I'm exploring all the doable stuff in real life.

That doesn't mean I'm giving up erotica, just that it's suddenly less important to me. There are still otherwise inaccessible places erotica can take me. However, I can now be fully Giles just by being alive. I don't need a fantasy life any more.

It doesn't even matter that porno tumblr has gone. My main activity there was to build a masturbation play list - actually, tumbview will still serve up a nice slideshow! - but masturbation is off the cards.

What can't escape is the memories I'm building. 

So, I'm in chains, but - thus - my mind is free.

What can't escape is the memories I'm building.

Like last night, when Xena had me put on nipple clips and kneel in the corner and while she used the vibrator. After a while she let me put my head under the covers to watch, then insert my fingers.

Her vagina rippled around my digits like a devouring monster. My poor lost cock hammered like a second heart while my nipples added two points of pain to make a triangle of exquisite sensation.

Then she had me put away the sex toys and come to bed.

I lay there in the dark with her asleep beside me. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the vibrator nuzzling her pussy.

And I can see it now.

It's going to be an interesting chaste year....

---

Learn how to how to walk the same Femdom path with your partner! 

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(For ebook format, 

Lulu or iTunes.)

A Spat Ends in Discipline: Commitment trumps Consent in a Female Led Relationship

"Wah wah wah! Go cry in the corner!

"Wah wah wah!" mocks Xena, angry. "Go cry in the corner! Go on, kneel facing the corner for five minutes."

We've been having what we Brits call "a row", otherwise "a spat".

I've been feeling neglected because her work has taken first place in the last few months. She hasn't disciplined me for weeks, which takes the adventure out of chores, and also means we haven't really been intimate. This evening it spilled over into me ranting at her, despite still being sealed into my chastity device after over 100 days.

It really is an argument. We're both cross with each other, voices raised.

But I can't disobey her. "Yes, mistress."

Fifty lashes... I'm near
tears by the end of it.

I don't mean I'm afraid to disobey her. It's just not in my lexicon.

I kneel in the corner for five minutes while she finishes her report.

Then she has me tie myself up and she whips me - fifty lashes for the fifty demerits I've racked up. I'm near tears by the end of it.

After that, it's back in the corner and I have to listen to her vibrators buzz, my poor caged cock up throbbing forlornly in its device. After more than 100 days of chastity, this is exquisite torment.

Then she has me rub her feet and we curl up together. My hopeless arousal causes her some delight.

"OK, you really are in charge," I say, aware that things have changed between us.

I have to listen to her vibrators buzz...

"Of course," she responds. "And you need to be more detail-orientated over the house."

"I will if you are too," I say.

"You can rely on that," she says. "Good night. I love you."

And she falls asleep leaving me locked and hard, with a smarting back, both deliciously afraid and contentedly secure.

---

This is the only kind of relationship
she can imagine.

Round about now, the Consent Police turn up:

Where were all the negotiations? 

Where were the check-ins? 

Are my needs being met?

The problem is that BDSM consent culture is designed around couple play, and play dates between equals: temporary power exchanges.

However, in a lifestyle relationship, consent and commitment are hopelessly tangled, and the dynamic takes on a life of its own, evolving to permeate the relationship.

It's been nearly a hundred days since she had me seal myself in my chastity device. It was my idea of a fun adventure, but she's taken it and run with it. I expected to be locked for a couple of months max, now she's talking about unlocking in time for a holiday next August.

Similarly, we've been in an FLR for four years. Again, it was my idea of a way to make chores fun - I'm mostly a house husband - and generate some kink. It was also supposed to be an adventure lasting a few months, renewed by mutual consent. Now she's told me that this is the only kind of relationship she can imagine, and - well you can see above - she wields her power when it suits her, not just in erotic contexts.

 Any discomfort with our lot
pings our masochism.

Consent once given is hard to withdraw, let alone withhold if the dominant pushes the scope.

Most obviously, we subs are initially afraid the kink might go away, then go on to lose perspective. Meanwhile, any discomfort with our lot pings our masochism.

However, there's this other thing: you just cannot unilaterally make fundamental changes to your relationship.

A concept kinksters don't talk about so much: commitment.

Relationships are built on commitments.

The most obvious vanilla example is the commitment to fidelity. You can't just declare your relationship to be open or poly, or that you are going to sleep around.

I'm trapped and I like it.

In an exclusive marriage, your partner doesn't coerce you into fidelity. Rather, fidelity is a component of your relationship. Yes, you can "withdraw consent" for fidelity, but your partner may then reasonably withdraw consent to continue the relationship.

So it is with power exchange in our Female Led Relationship. I'm committed to submitting to Xena, and I can't imagine how our relationship would work without that.

In other words, as long as I love my wife, withdrawing consent to the dynamic is no longer really a relationship option. I'm trapped, and I like it.

---

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100 days of Living with Permanent Chastity

My wife is treating permanent chastity
as an indefinite relationship phase. 

Permanent chastity! This is nuts!

100 days on, I'm still sealed into my chastity device and Xena's talking about no need to unlock me until a flight in August(!).

So, no key, no emergency key.

No way out without messing around with hairdryers or very hot water.

And the worst - best? - of it is that my wife is treating permanent chastity as an indefinite relationship phase.

It's as if we just moved house, she's settled in and this is fine for now. Sure, we'll relocate again, but it's not on the cards right now. And moving house is not something you do on whim, right? She certainly can't be bothered with all the fuss, and she's in charge.

So, I'm not on tenterhooks wondering when she'll release me. Instead, I've just accepted that this is how things will be for a while, which I suppose is the difference between "permanent" and "open ended".

What's it like?

Day to day, the frustration isn't too bad. The balls aren't actually steam boilers. A couple of weeks in and you get as horny as you're going to get, and the frustration is like a little energising motor in your groin.

The frustration during sexy time... that's exquisite. A gorgeous feedback loop between panic and masochism.

Mentally, it's interesting.

On the one hand it confirms me in my submissive role. Locked means submissive, and I'm permanently locked. However, it's also actually healing. I can never pretend to be not submissive, never ignore that part of my identity. Even so, I'm still me.

It's also relaxing. Being irrevocably sealed in with no emergency key, shuts down all those wearing micro decisions, e.g. about whether to really go to a meeting locked. It also washes away any moral qualms - this is who I am.

Emotionally... emotionally it's nice. I've arrived at my logical destination, as low as I can go as a sub, and not only does Xena still want me, she also made this happen.

Because really, she did. Looking back over our entire relationship, especially the FLR, there's a pattern:

Me: Shall we make this temporary and limited kinky change to our relationship?
Xena: Oh god. Are you sure? I suppose so.
Later...
Me: Well that was fun.
Xena: What do you mean was? We're still doing it. Oh and I can't be bothered with these limits.
Me: Yes, mistress.

Originally, she was just looking to lock me up until mid October. I was the one who pushed the seal idea. Then, suddenly everything became open ended.

Careful what you wish for.

The same thing happened four years ago when I suggested trying demerits to real domestic targets, and she propelled us into an FLR, and years before that when we started doing female-focused Femdom, and she established chaste service as our standard dynamic.

So I am feeling utterly validated, totally myself, very frustrated in erotic moments, and as submissive as heck.

What about practical issues?

There aren't any. I can live pretty much as normal in this device other than being more cautious about using public urinals, and being careful not to let people bump my groin.

The it's the diabolical practicality of the Custom Chastity Saint that got me into this mess.

Careful what you wish for!

---

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Ask Giles: Is a Female Led Relationship is the submissive truly serving, or is it a trade?

In Ancient Rome, she'd still have to manage
her slave: give him orders, discipline him,
keep him in his place.

On Chastity Mansion, somebody asked: "Is it serving or is it a trade?"

I think it's quite common for dominant women to hide behind the idea of a trade for a long time before taking ownership of the FLR. However, it's only a trade in that all relationships are an implicit trade.

Our desire to serve comes from our submissive orientation. It's not some higher calling. So what we really want is particular role in a relationship.

The baseline proposition is then: "Let me be your slave and you can enjoy things unavailable in a normal relationship."

Ah, but kinky "slaves" require particular treatment! Isn't that a trade?

No because, if this were some dystopia - or Ancient Rome! - where a woman could simply purchase a personal slave, she'd still have to manage him: give him orders, discipline him, keep him in his place. There'd also be protocol so his presence didn't feel intrusive.

As long as the particular treatment  makes sense - has no over the top extras - then it's no more a trade than, say, adopting a dog and then having to feed, house and train it.

You could argue that, since he can get bored and pull the plug at any time, she will always feel as if it's a trade. However, from the start, he usually has more to lose than her. He's literally trapped by his own orientation. Over time, the roles just start to feel real and normal.

So though the mistress/slave relationship implies mutual obligations, I don't think it's an actual trade by any common meaning of the word. It certainly doesn't feel like one!

---

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Whipped while tethered by the chastity device! (testing the Custom Chastity Ghost with attachment point)

Custom Chastity Ghost with
attachment point.

Sunday night. I'm massaging Xena's back while getting hard in my chastity device and feeling nervous about what's to come.

I'm locked into a slightly updated Custom Chastity custom Ghost. Lady Fox sent me a new ring with a 7mm gap and an attachment point.

It's been a busy weekend. Xena sighs. "I suppose we'd better get through some of your demerits, slave."

She's only recently started calling me that when she wants total control. Just hearing it makes my cock twitch in its cage. It doesn't help that I haven't come for nearly two weeks.

Strap (gift from Fred Norman!)
plus spring hook.

I strip off, bring out the whip box, and then - for the first time - clip a strap to the attachment point on the underside of my base ring. The strap goes over the bedpost. I get onto my hands and knees and pull it tight.

Suddenly I'm helplessly kneeling, backed up against the bed post, effectively immobilised and awaiting my wife's pleasure.

The system is as smooth as I imagined. No bulky equipment to bring out of hiding, no straps to fiddle with. The whole procedure takes less than a minute and requires zero input from Xena.

Our whip box. (Velcro spreader/stocks to left)

That's why I asked for the attachment point. Xena loves whipping me, but is irritated by having to mess around with velcro or buckles. In an ideal world, she'd stride into a dedicated dungeon room to find me already spread out on a St Andrew's cross. I suspect it's to do with feeling in control.

I had worried that the little loop would have got in the way, or snagged on my scrotum. However, it made no difference to the wearability.

"I'm helpless, mistress," I announce.

"Good," she says. And she reads her book for what must be quarter of an hour while I kneel there naked, a little uncomfortable, and nervous.

Finally, I hear her swing out of bed, pad over to the whip box. There's a swish and unbelievable pain blossoms over my back.

I yelp.

"Slave!" she admonishes.

"Sorry mistress."

The next blow is just as painful, but I manage to reduce my reaction to just a gasp. By the fifth blow, I'm whimpering.

A very submissive posture!

Looking back, the ergonomics were perfect for her. The spreader/stockade we have puts me too low on the ground, makes me too hard a target. Often the whips hit with just the tip, or land spent or in odd places.

The other alternative - me chained across the foot of the bed - works better. However, it's slow to set up and means I'm taking up bed space.

That's the other thing. Chained by the balls on your hands and knees - that's a very submissive position! In the right circumstances submission brings out the worst in us.

So it's physically and mentally easy for Xena, my vanilla acting wife, to cheerfully whip the hell out of me.

She switches to something stingier and my sobs turn to muffled yelps.

With all my twitching and flinching, I put considerable strain on the attachment point. However the surgical nylon material is tough, and copes with no problem. In addition, all that tugging has no effect on my cock, which stays strapped on its constricting cage.

She pads around to stand in front of me. She's wearing comfy bed socks tonight, but this would be sexy as hell if she was wearing boots.

Now she lays into my raised buttocks.

I make little screeches.

"Oh, that one really hurts then," she remarks.

She gets back onto the bed and the vibrator buzzes. I can only kneel and listen while my cock twitches hopelessly in its cage.

At length she finishes up, gives me ten more strokes that leave me with tears in my eyes.

"Right," she says, "Bed. Put everything away, slave."

Easy for Xena, my vanilla acting wife,
to cheerfully whip the hell out of me.

So aftercare is me unstrapping myself, packing away whips and straps.

As I get back into pyjamas, I ask, "How was that for speed and convenience, mistress, for my review?"

"Perfect," she says. "Better than everything else."

"Oh," I say, "You didn't tell me lockup for tomorrow."

"Stay locked," she says.

"What? It's my orgasm day."

"Too bad, slave," she says. "Now go to sleep."

"Hang on," I say. "Does that cancel the day or do I get to cum Tuesday?"

"I'll tell you tomorrow, depending on the state of the house. Now go to sleep, slave."

"Yes, mistress."

Lady Fox's diabolical contraptions
have turned me into my wife's slave!

But of course I lie there, back stinging, muzzled groin throbbing. I've spent my entire adult life craving whippings of this intensity. Now I'm getting them as routine.

And Xena just takes her dominance for granted. There's no posturing, no play acting.

It's no exaggeration to say that it's male chastity devices that got us to this point. There's something primal and real about the submission they imply. The more practical, the more wearable my device, the more real our dynamic has felt.

This year our FLR contract negotiation comprised of Xena establishing that she was in charge, I had no choice about this, and chastity was mandatory.

So you could argue that the scarily practical, indefinitely wearable devices we've had from Custom Chastity are responsible for our final slide into a deep Femdom dynamic.

Yes, Lady Fox's diabolical contraptions have turned me into my wife's slave!

---

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My wife gives scary answers to some Femdom hypotheticals

My wife is very literal and serious

"Can I ask you some hypotheticals?"

It's late Sunday night, I'm kneeling at the end of the bed rubbing Xena's feet, as always, locked into my chastity device for the night.

She rather arbitrarily had me unlock for the day, which has left me a bit confused. I have a strong suspicion that her lock/unlock decisions are entirely random

Remember Anya from "Buffy the Vampire Slayer"? My wife's a bit like her. Very literal and serious. There are no wheels within within wheels. She has a playful side, but it's spontaneous and unreliable. The world's worst service top, she is utterly no good at erotic role play.

Put my wife in charge, however, and she just takes charge and suits herself. This gives us an all or nothing Femdom dynamic that suits me fine.

The snag is, she doesn't introspect about the Femdom, which means it's hard to nail down what her tastes actually are.

Nor does she spend time thinking about enhancements. They still come from me, making the whole thing a bit of a guessing game. Some ideas she takes up with an evil grin. Others she dismisses with a grumpy wrinkle of her nose: Why aren't you telepathic Giles?

Part of the problem is that her mind leaps to practicalities, and some ideas get rejected before I've had a chance to make them work, or establish that I'm actually in the right ballpark.

So I'm ask asking some explicitly hypothetical questions: ones grounded in reality, but lubricated by fantasy.

"Oh go on then," she says.

"First one," I say. "Suppose I lost both keys to my device. Worse, in a fit of enthusiasm I'd previously decluttered all my spares. It would take about a month for a replacement to come."

"I don't understand, " she says, yawning.

"I'd be stuck," I say. "I'd have to destroy the device to get out of it, but the new one wouldn't arrive for a month or so."

"Oh," she says, an evil glint in her eyes. "You'd have to wear it until the replacement arrived."

"Would I be allowed to pullout and come."

"Of course not," she says as if I'm an idiot.

As  I said, she's very literal. As far as she's concerned a chastity device should be a chastity device and treated as such. She once accidentally pressed the wrong counter, giving me a penalty day instead of a demerit. She simply shrugged and picked up the other counter and clicked that one as well. There was no hint of rewinding.

"OK," I say. "Suppose Lady Fox had nothing she wanted me to review, so I had to buy the new device. Say it was about $200. Bear in mind that any practical device comes in at about that."

"You'd have to earn the money first," she says. "Over and above your monthly targets, of course," she adds cheerfully.

I wince. My erotic fiction and contracting together bring in a variable income. My target is reasonable, but I don't always make it. "I could be stuck for a couple of months."

"Tough."

"Next," I say. "Suppose this happens but we're abroad for your work? We're either travelling around, or else deliveries are not practical or secure. We won't be home for three months."

"Then you'd wear it until then," she says.

"What about six months?"

She frowns. "Then I'd make you come up with a solution."

Yes, a sharp but literal mind. The hypothetical just breaks down when she thinks about it too much! (There are few problems she can't solve or motivate other people to solve, which is why she is so senior professionally.)

However, it's interesting that this doesn't happen until the 6 month mark. Also, at no point does she bring up getting a cheap Amazon device for bedroom wear only. Given an all or nothing choice, she'd rather have me locked 24/7.  Finally, as long as the situation isn't actually her fault, she seems gleefully happy to enforce it for months on end.

All this suggests that daytime lockup really is part of the deal for her. She's not humouring me, even if she hasn't thought through the significance.

"Finally, a different tack," I say. "What if you had a vibrator that was hooked up to an electric shocker."

"I don't get it. Why would I want that?"

I back track. "You can get remote control shockers. Imagine that you using your vibrator triggered electric shocks for me. Would you use that?"

"Hmmm. Perhaps."

"What if... what if instead the vibrator was connected to the time lock on the safe. Say every minute of use cost me an hour of lockup?"

"Oh," says my wife. "That would be interesting."

---

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Can a male chastity device change a relationship? How my wife accepted the key to keeping me in 24/7 chastity

"Just shut up and rub my feet."
(Find out how to get to this point...)

Can a chastity device change a relationship?

"I'd like a foot rub," says my wife.

It's Tuesday night and I'm kneeling in the corner in my new Custom Chastity magic locker device.

"As you wish, mistress." I say. "This new chastity device is so practical I can wear it by default. Can I talk you through the way the keys could work?"

"What?"

My timing is bad, she's had a long day at work. However, I push on. "You still have the old Holy Trainer key on your key ring. We can swap them over..."

Xena cuts me off. "I've got too many bloody keys on my ring anyway. I don't need extra."

"But..."

"Just shut up and rub my feet."

"Yes mistress," I say.

I really don't want to shut up. I do want to argue with her. It annoys me when I end up carrying the BDSM side of our Female Led Relationship, given that she enjoys it so much when she's in the mood.

When we first started with FLR and chastity using the Holy Trainer 2, I would report on my wearing and Xena would decide whether and when I could unlock the next day.

It didn't really work.

On me, the Holy Trainer was in the almost practical category. The locking superstructure subtly affected my movement, the bulge affected my choice of clothing and made it just a little harder, e.g., to slip between tables in a pub or cafe. Also, though I had managed to shower and dry in it, it was better to remove it for exercise and certainly bathing.

So there were no obvious thresholds and a lot of balancing of risk and comfort against her (real but rarely stated) desire to keep me locked.

All this was more nuanced and implied too much responsibility than she could cope with at the end of a long day when the focus was supposed to be on her. We'd have cringy "No, what do you think?" conversations, and she'd always let me unlock if I asked.

24/7 chastity is the premise of all
my Femdom erotica... 

After a while, we shifted to me being locked by default, but again, she'd always let me unlock if I asked.

The end result was a vague rule that I would be mostly locked, but with me in control of it and starting to feel like a sad perv being indulged by his long suffering wife.... even though I know from her various unguarded remarks that she likes me locked.

The Custom Chastity device I received 18 months ago changed the practicality equation. There was no need to remove it for showering or for most activities. I managed to wear it for over a month! However, though it was much more practical than the Holy Trainer, there was still a sliding scale and I didn't feel like going back to those awkward conversations. Instead, I concentrated on proving I could do marathons so that Xena would feel more comfortable with the responsibility.

This new Custom Chastity device seems to be a game changer. It conforms almost exactly to my man parts, so has minimal bulge, and it doesn't have a superstructure to jab into my pubis. (Click through for pics.)

There's also an actual physical key. Previously, I stuck with the cable ties so as to minimise the profile and cut down on the weight - a padlock would have reduced some of the practicality.

So now I have this plan to give Xena to make 24/7 chastity work for us... something she seems to want, and something that's the premise of all my Femdom erotica.

And she won't discuss it right now, even though I am desperate to.

However, we are in an FLR and so I obey her.

That night she leaves me kneeling in the corner for 15 mins after light out.

Thursday night and she's got work to do.

"Give me your keys," I say, "And I'll get rid of the extras."

Actually, there aren't any extras. There used to be a couple of spare fetter keys, but they're long gone. I remove the Holy Trainer 2 key and replace her key ring on the hook.

When I return to the bedroom, she's writing a report for the next day. I spend an hour and a half kneeling in the corner. When I curl up on my side, she looks up and says, "No, you have to kneel." I spend the next half an hour very turned on indeed as I do whenever she states a kinky preference that's clearly for her.

"No, you have to kneel."

When it's time to report, I remind her about my transgression.

"I won't demerit you this time," she says, "because we only just discovered the rule."

This, by the way, is why she doesn't generally talk about kink. Her kinky Femdom comes from her whimsical playful side that isn't really amenable to reflection or introspection. Instead, it pops out ideas and rules that she subsequently embraces.

At last, she lets me come to bed. As we lie in the dark, I blurt, "I wish you'd take my key!"

"What?" she says, "I thought that's what you were doing earlier."

I give a mental sigh. Talk about communication by smoke signals. "So you want my key?" I ask.

"Yes, now shut up and go to sleep."

And I do.

It's generally easier to talk about
objects than erotic activities

In the morning, while her coffee is brewing, I add my key to her ring. When I serve the coffee, I present her with my emergency key: a second key that's security sealed into bit of tubing. "You need to initial this."

She cheerfully initials the seal then heads off to work.

That night - last night - when it's report time, I present her with both clickers - silver for demerits, red for penalty days - plus the emergency key. "You'll notice the seal's unbroken, mistress," I say.

"So I see," she says.

And this is why the new system is going to work.

Featuring the inescapable Happy
Happy Chaste Boi Purity Device(tm)

Outside an erotic headspace, it's generally easier to talk about objects than erotic activities. Now I can in effect say, "Still locked up" and she can acknowledge it and take - or at least share -  responsibility, all without actually speaking about it directly.

Better still, she has to take an actual action - give me her keys, or at least tell me where they are - in order to permit me to unlock.  It's enough of a fuss to tip the balance in favour of saying no.

And the new device is about as good a male chastity cage as is possible (though not as good as the inescapable Happy Happy Chaste Boi Purity Device(tm) that features in most of my erotica.)

Finally, the emergency key salves her conscience and soothes her legitimate worries: I can always unlock if I really need to. The thing is to get her to take responsibility for making that a very undesirably course of action.

Ahem.

"Mistress," I say, "I think the rule is that I can break the seal for genuine emergencies only. Otherwise there needs to be a penalty so draconian it's almost unthinkable. And if I do need to unlock, but should have forseen it, then that's too bad."

"OK," she says, smirking. "Five days and five lashes."

"That's a bit pathetic." I grimace. "That doesn't really cut it."

She laughs. "How about twenty days and five lashes?"

"What? I meant that it didn't sound like enough lashes. It's the wrong way around."

"Oh," she says. "Twenty five days and twenty five lashes."

"That's not what I meant..." I trail off, feeling my cock pulse wetly in its cage. "Yes mistress," I say.

"Come to bed," she says, "I want to sit and read together.

She looks at me quizzically. "Are you going to wear it all the time now?"

"That's up to you. What are you worried about?"

"I don't want you to get caught."

"Don't worry, it's really unlikely in this device."

"Come to bed," she says, "I want to sit and read together."

And we do.

---

Learn how to how to walk the same Femdom path with your partner! 

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Why the Hermione and Ron marriage would work - Feminism and asymmetric relationships

Champion/Commander - a perfect pairing!

(NSFW If you've wandered in here from google, be warned that this blog is mostly about kinky sex and Femdom.) 

So JK Rowling - a woman who married a younger, less famous man who we hope supports her career! - regrets pairing Hermione and Ron.

A proportion of fandom agrees with her: Harry and Hermione should have been together.

This is just plain wrong. Stable relationships don't tend to work like that.

(And there's a Feminist angle on this too, but we'll get to that.)

The only reason we can't readily see this is because Ginny Weasley doesn't get much screen - or page - time, so Harry Potter's romantic conclusion is a bit of a blank.

What would a Harry/Hermione marriage be be like? 

H: "How was your day, honey?"

H: "I did important stuff and now feel drained and grumpy."

H: "Me too."

H: "How are the kids?"

H: "I haven't seen them yet. I've been too busy."

H: "Me too. What were there names?"

H: "So shall we just brood separately this evening?"

H: "Sure."

A complete disaster!

"So shall we just brood
separately this evening?"

Ron on the other hand?

Ron Weasley is a pillar of strength and no wimp either. He's a regular hero, but he's a hero devoted to Hermione. Where she goes, he'll follow.

He'll also make her laugh, pop her serious bubble, and roughhouse with the kids. Where she has intellect, he has emotional intelligence.

Where she is sensible, he is playful.

Both are wise in their own way.

R: "How was your day, honey?"

H: "I did important stuff and now feel drained and grumpy."

R: "Well George and I came up with a new invisible delayed action fart bomb."

H: (Laughs) "How are the kids?"

R: "Making mud sculptures with their wands right now."

SFX: Sound of magic making mud splattering. Children giggle.

H: "I'll change then go take a look."

R: "So Friday night. Shall we go dancing?"

H: "Um. I'm tired but....(grins)... what the hell, you only live once."

How can they not be the perfect match?

...in the bedroom it can come
out as dominance and submission,
though it need not.

Most people sit on a spectrum between what I call Commanders and Champions.

Neither is weak or worthless, one tends to take control and the other to support.

Once has the vision, the other refines and embraces it.

Both have their roles to play: every King Arthur needs his Sir Lancelot.

Harry and Hermione are clearly both Commanders, and Ron is pretty clearly a Champion.

And all the stable marriages I've observed are Commander/Champion pairings (though these are relative positions within the relationship, not absolute.)

In terms or respect and worth, and negotiating position, these are equal marriages. In terms of leadership, they are asymmetric, and that asymmetry can go in either direction.

And of course, in the bedroom it can come out as dominance and submission, though it need not.

Despite a century or so of Feminism, we're still not surprised by a relationship that revolves around the male partner.

...one tends to take control
and the other to support. 

Male Led Relationships are still a cultural default. Female Led Relationships - even though they've always been with us - are still not regarded as a conscious and mature choice for a powerful woman... "Oh look she picked a weaker man", as if strength had anything to do with it.

Imagine if the genders were flipped?

Serious, powerful Herman married playful but fiercely supportive red-haired Rona? 

It would make perfect sense. We'd even talk affectionately about, "...bubbly Rona who always brings Herman out of his shell".

So let's praise the Harry Potter stories for being able to depict male-female friendship, and for not having Harry and Hermione drift into a weird stormy on-off relationship based on mutual admiration rather than compatibility.

And let's ditch the sexism and accept that it's OK for a commanding woman like Hermione to pick a life partner who will revolve around her, making both their lives better.

---

Learn how to how to walk the same Femdom path with your partner! 

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