My Chastity Hell: Teasing, denial, discipline and protocol on a one-sided National Orgasm Day

Xena on the phone
(as I picture her)

 "Did you get much writing done?" asks Xena. She's on the phone walking back from work.

"I write erotica faster when there's no option to stop to masturbate," I say. I like to remind her of my chaste state when I can. "Ironically, it's National Orgasm Day."

"Really?" she says sweetly. "Tell me what you wrote."

My Holy Trainer 2 tightens around my cock. "That's really unfair. I'm trying to cook dinner."

She giggles. "Go on."

It's a double turn on. The story floats my boat -- I wrote it after all -- but Xena doesn't normally tease me like this. Standing in the kitchen locked into a chastity device, I tell her my opening chapter. I have to keep stopping. My the end of it I'm slumped against the kitchen table, groin throbbing like a second heart.

"...chats sporadically over the meal
I've cooked"
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Xena arrives home, goes over my domestic tasks in a matter of fact way, and chats sporadically over the meal I've cooked.

I tidy up, rub her feet while she watches TV, all the while feeling horribly turned on. I'm too weeks into chastity, I've been wearing a device almost 24/7 since Sunday. I need some intimacy.

Unfortunately, it's mid week. Nothing intense normally happens on a work night. Worse, I'm not allowed to try to initiate erotic activity. However...

"Would you like to do demerits tonight," I say.

"horny and frustrated"
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"Oh," says Xena. "I'm not really in the mood."

"It's just that you're were planning to go out on Friday and this weekend is busy..." I trail off. "Now I feel awful. I'm just horny and frustrated. You can do what you like. I'm sorry."

"Go prepare yourself."
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"Give yourself a demerit," says Xena. After a pause. "Actually, go shower and I'll decide."

When I present myself back in the lounge, she says, "Go prepare yourself while I finish watching this."

"May I use a slave point to get you to wear your sexy shoes?" (Slave points are rewards for excellent service. I now have one left.)

"OK." She returns to her program.

Triumphant, I hurry to the bedroom.

But as I get out the whips, twenty two demerits starts to seem like a lot.

Whipping has become so routine I can't remember the separate instances. Even so, it's like jumping into icy water -- I don't think it'll ever get easy -- and right now I'd rather make love to my beautiful wife, with or without the device.

A cuddle would be nice too...

"sexy shoes"
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So by the time I've secured myself over the foot of the bed, I'm in a sweat and remembering how vicious she was last time.

Finally, the door opens and she strides into the room. There's a pause then her feet appear before me. She has sexy feet anyway, but right now she's wearing leopard-pattern high-heel mules. "Hmm. Twenty two demerits," says my wife sounding amused.

The fear is an aphrodisiac. My penis inflates inside its tube and I whimper out of frustration and anticipation of pain.

"Plus you left the bathroom in a mess," says Xena.

And she whips me.

Four for the bathroom, then twenty two for various failings.

In the past, I've worn a butt plug for whippings. However, rather than make it more erotic, it actually made it difficult for me to have an erection. This time I'm unplugged and hard as a rock inside my tube. The effect is... extreme.

Xena isn't into "funishment". She strikes each blow to hurt me, and my god it does hurt. (I flinch and whimper so much she tells me to be silent and starts again.) At the same time, each stroke seems to drive the blood into my caged cock so that I become more and more turned on. That actually becomes a new kind of suffering; I haven't come in two weeks, and have no idea when next I'll be allowed to masturbate.

Xena isn't into "funishment"
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Finally Xena orders me to release myself and clear up.

I move around unsteadily, cock pounding inside its prison, half an eye on her feet in those sexy shoes. My back feels -- You know when you get glue on your skin and it dries? Or a big scab forms over a graze? -- tight with welts. Realizing what just happened drives yet more pressure into my chastity device. "Beautiful wife," I gasp.

"Mistress," corrects Xena.

A twitch in my cock. This is the first time we've discussed protocol. I always thought she'd find that term too melodramatic, too cliched. "So you like mistress, not ma'am or madam?" I ask. "And you want me to use mistress when I speak?"

"Yes, slave," says Xena.

My head whirls. I just want to roll onto the floor and... I don't know. I can't do anything to my cock. "So wife and compliant husband by day, mistress, and slave and mistress at night..., mistress?"

"Got it in one, slave," says Xena. "Oh," she says. "You brought out the erotica."

Odeco multi-speed vibrator
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I did. I left a couple of sexy graphic novels on a handy side table. I tense, expecting another beating for my temerity.

She picks them up and thumbing through them kicks off her shoes and slips into bed. "What devices have we got, slave?" she asks.

I present her with two vibrators, a nice small Odeco multi-speed, and a massive vibrating Tantus John Doe.

"Into the corner, slave," she orders.

I whimper in frustration. I want intense intimacy, not this.

...massive vibrating Tantus John Doe
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"Give yourself another demerit, slave, I can do anything I want," says my wife, picking up the multi-speed.

So I kneel in the corner to watch her masturbate.

Watch is almost the wrong word. She's sitting up in bed with the duvet pulled up to her middle. All I can see is her hand teasing her nipple through her top.

She's done this before. It's not pornographic masturbation. It's not for me. She takes my slavery so much for granted now, I'm not even sure my presence adds anything to her experience.

(Seriously! The other day she got lost in a book and fell asleep leaving me kneeling in the corner like a forgotten appliance until her glasses fell off and woke her and she ordered me to bed.)

However being truly ignored means I'm invisible as long as I stay kneeling in the corner. I'm watching her in a truly private moment.

"...a better view"
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So I stare at her fingers orbiting her nipple as if it's the most important thing in the world. Each turn of her fingers churns my groin. I don't have as penis anymore, just an uncomfortable tightness that I can see rolling off into the future.

Without warning, she puts the book aside and throws the covers back. "Come over here and get a better view."

She never does this!

I stumble over and land kneeling at the foot of the bed. Now I can watch the black vibrator nuzzle the apex of her pussy. The blood drains from my brain and my head slumps onto the mattress. This is actually too much.

Xena laughs. "You're not allowed to look away, slave."

"Yes mistress," I stammer.

"Now the bigger dildo," she says, "and some lubricant."

Moving drunkenly, back still smarting from the harsh whipping, I lube up the dildo, turn it on, and slowly ease it into her vagina. It's big, much bigger than my real cock, but she takes it with a purr, "That's good."

So now I'm kneeling on the bed between her legs. I haven't had sex for over a year. I haven't had an orgasm for two weeks. I can't even get an erection thanks to the chastity device, I'm sliding a massive dildo in and out of Xena's pussy and all I can feel is a love as intense as the pressure inside my Holy Trainer.

And then she comes and orders me back into the corner.

"Try not to think of that big dildo
going in and out of my pussy."
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She reads for ten minutes then orders me to clear everything away then rub her feet. She's relaxed, sated. Even so she's ready with the demerits; one for being slow at tidying up the other for squeezing her toes too hard. It's not an erotic thing, just the way it works.

When I finally make it to bed she says, "Try not to think of that big dildo going in and out of my pussy." Then she rolls over and goes to sleep.

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I don't sleep quite so well. Every time I start drifting off, I think "Oh good I managed to stop thinking about that dildo..."

In the morning we discover I missed buying an item on sale and cost our household budget something like £50; a significant sum of money at the moment.

I'm embarrassed and guilty.

Xena's angry.

And she gives me five demerits.

Because all this is real.

(What happened next...)

---

Don't resign yourself to just getting off on other people's adventures! When we started out, my wife was vanilla. Use my manuals to help you walk the same Femdom path! There's one for him, and one for her. 

Demerits and Domestic Service

Our Sabbatical in Slaveland is long over, but I'm 
still subject to demerits for domestic chores, 
which Xena is increasingly matter of fact 
about applying.

The corner shop doesn't have first class stamps. I think, To hell with it, I'll wait until Xena gets home. She'll have stamps in her handbag.

But even as I'm thinking that, I'm already heading off to walk three blocks to the next shop.

And so Xena's application form goes off well and truly on time.

When I get home, I hang out the washing. Later, after spending most of the day chasing a contract - looking good, by the way - I bring in the washing, add it to the mound of fresh clothes... then carefully sort and fold away everything.

It keeps happening like this. I keep going the extra mile.

Our Sabbatical in Slaveland is long over, but I'm still subject to demerits for domestic chores, which Xena is increasingly matter of fact about applying. For instance, the other day I forgot to buy yogurt for desert... we're sitting at the table having a normal conversation like a normal couple, but Xena casually tells me to add another demerit.

I'm not afraid of the whippings, even though 
they are real punishment

I'm not afraid of the whippings, even though they are real punishment and nothing I would subject myself to just for erotic kicks - what with the sports I do, I'm quite robust - but my unconscious is.

Or perhaps submitting to discipline is enough to make my unconscious take my servitude seriously?

The odd thing is how much I am enjoying this arrangement!

I really don't get a kick out of the chores themselves. Domestic service was always something I played at.

It was an excuse for a whipping, or a kind of bribe to Xena to get her to do Femdom. Now I'm a contented house slave, chasing dust bunnies and cleaning up smudges.

What I think is now going on is this:

• The chores need doing anyway, so the prospect of demerits and hence a whipping turns the drudgery into an adventure.
• Total surrender is less stressful than deciding when and how to push back against Xena's domestic demands - exactly what share should a semi-employed househusband do?
• There's a zen to just getting on with a task to a high standard.
• It's an expression of our relationship... I mean, if we were having lots of romantic sex, then I would probably do the chores in a romantic way and feel good about it. As it is, we're having lots of Femdom one-sided sex, so domestic servitude works in a similar way.
• Domestic service is satisfying by association, since it implies demerits implies acknowledging our shared sexuality in non-sexual situations. For a middle aged married couple, any acknowledgment like that is a wonderful thing.
• A pristine house makes Xena happy. Slavery is an act of giving.

Why not introduce some Female Centered Femdom to your relationship?