Friday, 14 March 2014

How to make your cheap Chinese Chastity Device comfortable

I wore my A081 chastity device 24/7 during our intense Femdom sabbatical.

At first it was great. A cage lets you do things, go places, a full belt doesn't (which is why I threw away my old DIY chastity device). The pubic hair anti-pullout fix worked fine.

However, after a while I started to chafe... badly. Worse, "morning wood" felt like my cock was trying to rip off my testicles.

My first response was "Damn it, if this is my sex life, then I'm getting a decent device." I probably will - the Holy Trainer Version 2 looks good.

However, remember the bit about being semi-employed? It's not easy to justify blowing so much cash on a sex toy.

So, when I got home, I set about making the device I had comfortable. It was surprisingly easy:

  • I already had a neoprene strip as a shroud for the bolt.
  • A soft plastic pipe salvaged from a plumbing part fitted neatly around the slightly larger A-ring I had from an earlier device. (Very important to bevel the edges so that they squash into each other when you close it, thus avoiding pinching.)

This is what the end result looked like:

It feels much much more comfortable. Morning wood is no problem whatsoever - I just lie in bed and flashback to all the hot Femdom I've been experiencing :)

Even so, the cage end bruises my cock if I keep I getting aroused and even with the shroud, the locking post digs into my pubis when I bend over. These are not short term issues, but I think in the long run I want a Holy Trainer.

EDIT: I now have a Holy Trainer 2 Male Chastity Device. Read my reviews!

Why not introduce some Female Centered Femdom to your relationship?

Thursday, 13 March 2014

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?

Tuesday, 11 March 2014

Become her Roman Slave: Using Female-centered Femdom to bring kinky life to your dead bedroom (Draft introduction)

(I've finally got my act together to start work on "Become her Roman Slave: Using Female-centered Femdom to bring kinky life to your dead bedroom.")

It’s the dark secret of modern marriage - no matter how deep your love, the middle-aged master bedroom is a dead one.
Sure, it sees moments of passion by chance, or on vacation, or at those moments when life changes and you feel sexually alive to each other. Mostly though, you consider yourself fortunate if you have lack-luster sex once a month.
They didn’t tell us this when we got married (unless those remarks about the importance of working at relationships were code for “the sex runs out, try to take up an absorbing hobby”). Even so, it’s a secret hidden in plain sight. It’s there in popular humor, in those awful seaside postcards of yesteryear, in the jokes people make at work, and in TV comedy. It’s also there in the sex therapy industry - all those self help books, couple’s retreats, and marriage therapists driving around in expensive cars. And then there are the sex studies.
It all boils down to a three uncomfortable facts of life:
(1)Romantic love lasts a year if you are lucky.
(2)Sexual interest wanes after about seven years.
(3)The more equal and stable the couple, the less sex they have.
Most of us accept the fading of romantic love as long as it sparks from time to time. We just can’t cope with that level of intensity day-in-day out, and we’re happy to trade it for the deeper more solid love that comes from a long term relationship.
However, we’re horrified by the waning of sexual interest.
Why the waning?
Some couple therapists think the “higher desire partner” chases the “lower desire partner” into a corner. In other words, the partner who wants sex the most pesters the less horny partner for sex so much that it turns them off rather than on.
Perhaps this is true in the short term.
However, if that was the whole truth, you’d expect the “lower desire partner” to be in a rush to set limits and get the sex working again, which is not — frankly — what you see in real life. Instead, the “lower desire partner” simply disinvests in sex, leaving the higher desire partner high and dry, bouncing between anger and self-doubt: “Let’s go to sex therapy so we can have more sex” - “But I’m not interested in having more sex.”
This is not “men are horny but women want cuddles thing”. Either partner can be the “higher desire one”. However, if you are reading this book, then you are a husband trying to restore your sex life with your wife.
(For brevity, I’ll use “husband and wife” to mean “man and woman in permanent monogamous relationship whether or not you are formally married”. I’m not trying to exclude gay couples; it’s just that I can’t write confidently about them. If you’re gay and any of this works for you, please let me know…)
Why has your wife disinvested in sex? (Remember, husbands do this too, but that’s not what this book is about.)
It’s possible that you have become a sexist slob and so now turn her off. However I bet you’ve already gone to a lot of effort to lose the beer gut, curb your bad temper and support her in her career, so let’s assume not.
It’s possible she’s exhausted by the demands of middle-aged life, typically work and children. However, studies show that horny couples find time and energy anyway. After all, in theory she could give up yoga or step aerobics to practice the Kama Sutra with you instead.
If it’s not you or your lifestyle, what is it?
Could it be that the dead bedroom is “natural”.
For all that we remain strongly bonded by love, perhaps we’re not “supposed” to keep having sex after seven or eight years. Back in the pre-birth control primal past, seven years would be about time to stop making babies and make a good job of raising the ones we have. In the grand scheme of things, securing the future of the next generation far outweighs a little middle-aged sexual frustration.
Perhaps our sense of adventure acts as a built in timer. When we’re young, sex is an adventure but it’s hard to feel like Indiana Jones when the territory is mapped and all the pitfalls known. Similarly, the things that make for good companionship further erode the sense of mystery, and hence the sexual tension.
Finally, there’s mounting evidence that the old fashioned gender roles, though the suck, work well in the bedroom. This disheartening information is also not very useful, since we would not want to turn the clock back to the repulsive world of the Mad Men.
This takes us to the third uncomfortable fact I mentioned: The more equal and stable the couple, the less sex they have.
WTF? How unfair is that?
Embrace equality - Feminism, if you like - regard your wife as your equal, your best friend, your life companion, and you’ll have less sex than the knuckle dragging Neanderthal next door. Worse - if the studies are to be believed - it’ll be less mutually satisfactory sex. Yes, Mrs Neanderthal likes it that way (which is presumably why she married him). The same goes for stability - stormy couples with deep seated issues get plenty of makeup sex (which is perhaps why they do it), just like in that Fleetwood Mac song.
Again this is probably nature at work. However, that’s not very helpful. You’re not a sexist pig and your wife wouldn’t want you to be that way. Nor are you in some crazy chaotic marriage that crowds out your other hopes and dreams, hence perhaps your dead bedroom.
So the dead bedroom could be hardwired (by God or Evolution, or both, take your pick), a natural phenomenon like droughts and forest fires, and hurricanes… I don’t know about you, but I’d rather be happy than natural.
So now you’re at a crossroads with four paths:
1. Divorce - but you love your wife, and there’s a shared life—kids, perhaps—in which you are deeply invested. Also, who’s to say this won’t happen all over again.
2. Affairs - some couples make this work with “open relationships” and polyamory. That could be your path (if so; good luck, play safe, go buy a different self help book) but it sounds rather time consuming and risky, not to mention that if you are like me, you would prefer to be monogamous.
3. Therapy - whether in-office or self help, but that requires time and money and buy-in from your wife, and is also perhaps unrealistic; we saw that the dead bedroom is probably natural.
4. Kink - “Spicing things up” is almost a cliche, but that’s what a lot of middle aged couples do. If your wife just read 50 Shades of Grey and wants you to dominate her, put this book down and go learn to “top”. Otherwise, given the title, I guess you are hoping spicing things up means, experimenting with Femdom. That’s what this book is about, which leads me to to the title; Become her Roman Slave.
Take a look at my favorite picture on earth:

It’s from an Ancient Roman wall painting in Pompeii, Italy. Some Roman ladies, you see, used their male slaves for pleasure. (We know he’s her slave because he is dressed and she is not, and because Romans thought cunnilingus was demeaning and unmanly.)
What you’re seeing here isn’t a sex act. She’s merely enjoying slave-assisted masturbation. Prior to going down on her, he probably gave her a nice massage. He’ll still be horny later when he serves her wine while she reads a book or chats to friends. He may even be locked into a male chastity device - the Romans called these “seed pods”. And of course, if he falls short of expectations then he can look forward to a whipping.
Imagine being her Roman slave for just one day. You’d be getting as much kink as you could handle; chastity, denial, objectification, humiliation, domestic service, oral service, teasing (though not intentional), and finally corporal punishment… all those things and yet without her needing to feel kinky or even notice your existence.
That’s Phase One of the Roman Slave approach; establishing yourself as her “real” slave so that you can make an end run around her lack of interest in sex and land squarely in her relaxation and masturbation space. It’s much much easier to get somebody to be selfish than to be cruel, not least because being selfish is easy whereas cruelty requires effort.
With luck, the cruelty — the delicious sadism - happens naturally in Phase Two, though I will show you how to help it along. Power really does corrupt, especially if backed by a sense of permission and entitlement, which is of course what the first phase creates…
You’ll notice, though, that the Roman slave has little or no control and that the “dynamic” doesn’t have much to do with modern BDSM culture. He doesn’t negotiate scenes with his mistress, nor try to direct the action through a battery of safewords. No matter how much he may enjoy the action, everything that happens is for her benefit or else is part of the logic of slavery.
So, that’s what this book is about; how to approach your wife in the right way and establish yourself as her Roman-style slave so convincingly that the power feels real to both of you, leading her to move from using and abusing you to playing out sadistic games at your expense.
Around about now, you’re probably wandering whether this is all a little manipulative!
I hope not.
There’s nothing wrong with thinking about your relationship, nor with reading books to help you do this. Nor is it wrong to be tactical in your approaches to your wife. If you wanted a blow job, or an expensive set of golf clubs, you would chose your moment and pick your words with care. Why does Femdom have to be different?
Or perhaps you feel uncomfortable with the idea of pursuing a secret program, of approaching the bedroom with an agenda?
Don’t worry. I’m not asking you to lie to your wife. You can tell her the truth about this book; that it will help you explore Femdom with her and that not everything in it will be her or your cup of tea, which is fine because she’s very much in charge.
After a while, that mistress-slave relationship will start to feel natural, so natural that you may start to wonder whether perhaps Femdom is as natural a arrangement as the knuckle dragging alternative.

Read on if you dare…

This book will be a while coming! In the mean time, why not try one of my other Female Centered Femdom self help books?

Monday, 10 March 2014

"Consent Lite": Consensual non-consent, safewords and authentic slavery

Previously on Become Her Slave:
...as I stroke her hair and she teases me about how many days I must to wait before an orgasm, I say, "Just so you know, that whipping was wasn't remotely erotic. I really wanted it to end..."

Xena interrupts with a laugh. "I know."

"...but nothing on earth would have made me ask you to stop," I complete.

 "And if you had asked, I still wouldn't have stopped," says Xena sweetly, and I know instantly that she means it. 
I want her to take my submission for
granted.

Find out how to make this happen in your life!
Later, I mentioned the time she fell asleep after oral sex, leaving me on my knees at her feet.

Xena smiled and said, "That's when I realized I could do what the hell I liked with you."

Just hearing those words got me hard inside my chastity device. They also gave me a strong sense of contentment and validation.

I want her to take my submission for granted.

Letting go and accepting my slavery is the best relationship thing I have ever done. I have not been so happy with my sex life since I first got laid. Oddly, though, I have not had actual sex for months...

Why no safewords?

Yes, though BDSM culture is big on safe words, we aren't... and that makes us both happy.

Actually, not only don't we have a safe word, we don't have a traffic light system which would enable me to steer Xena away from particular activities or intensities without breaking character.

 want to be her real slave
 Learn how you can become the 
real slave of the woman you love!
It's partly because Xena's attitude to Femdom is "my way or the highway".

Like most vanilla wives and girlfriends of enthusiastic subs, she doesn't actually need kink the way I do.

Femdom is only worth her while if it is little or no trouble - she's not really interested in topping - gets her genuine services she enjoys, and satisfies her sadistic streak.

This last means that she's precisely interested in the things that a traffic light system is designed to stop her doing; ignoring me too long, using me without reward, hurting me beyond anything I can enjoy.

It's also because I want to be her real slave.

I want to live in fear of a whipping.

I want to let go and serve.

I want to be so much in her power that when I am bored and frustrated or in pain, I think in terms of my slavery, and not whether or not to use a safe word.

Femdom without safewords

So, how do we get away without using any kind of safe word?

First, we would use a safe word if we were doing anything that required it. For example, if I were gagged or put in such an extreme situation that it would be hard to be coherent, then we would adopt one. ("Xena stop!" I think.)

37 days without an orgasm at time of
writing (image source)

Dare to add some Femdom to your love life!
Second, we have de facto safe words. Xena, who doesn't adopt any kind of persona, even during intense sessions, is happy to make me cry, but she doesn't want to damage me.

If I said, "cramp" or "dangerous" or "about to throw up" she'd react accordingly without any sense of inconsistency.

Similarly, if the ongoing denial - 37 days without an orgasm at time of writing, I think - were making me "irritable" or "professionally incompetent", then it would cease.

Finally, I'm lucky enough to be psychologically robust without any triggers left over from an unpleasant past. She can't really say anything that would traumatize me.

If I did have triggers, then she would avoid them for the same reason she avoids physically damaging me. (And she's unlikely to say anything that would gross me out because it would have the same effect on her.)

The end result is a kind of consent-lite that I like to think of as authentic slavery. I consent to have no consent. Things I enjoy, I enjoy. Things I don't enjoy, I enjoy because they remind me I am a "real" slave.

This is not much different from going on a wilderness adventure or taking up an extreme sport. The hazards are part of the experience.

Should you try Femdom without safewords?

As long as she knows you could use a safe word,
she can relax and feel a sense of permission

Learn how to be on the "wrong" end of this!
Probably not, unless you've been married or together a long time and your dynamic is similar to ours.

A safe word is not just about the sub's physical and psychological comfort; it's also about the moral comfort of the domme!

As long as she knows you could use a safe word, she can relax and feel a sense of permission; she's not a Bad Person, she's just enjoying sexual role play.

However, if your bedroom dynamic is more Domination/Submission than Top/Bottom, then you would do well to avoid the traffic lights, let go and try toughing out anything that takes you outside your comfort zone.

You might be surprised how good it feels...





Life is too short to spend yearning for Femdom! My manuals can help you introduce mutually satisfying Femdom to your relationship! There's one for him, and one for her


Friday, 7 March 2014

Chastity Rules! Communication and erotic nudgenomics

Xena on the other end of the phone
 due to a business trip
"32 days, by the way," I say. A few weeks back, Xena unexpectedly took charge of my orgasms and this was day 32 of a 40 day period of denial.

Xena on the other end of the phone due to a business trip, chuckles.  I love the way it's given us something to flirt about, but this time my wife isn't playing ball. "Well perhaps you should stop and relieve yourself," she says.

My heart sinks and I feel cross. I can't think of anything more miserable. "Don't say that! That would spoil everything."

"Oh. OK."

Later, when she gets home, I choose my moment. First I finish tidying the kitchen and putting away laundry. Then, for its own sake, but also to put her in the right frame of mind, I remind her to give me my demerits.

Six clicks later, I'm rubbing her feet. She's not reading, so it's OK to to chat.

I want to growl, "You should damn well know the last thing a sub wants to hear is anything like 'oh well, let's stop and have a cup of tea instead of doing this'!"

However, that's the wrong approach. (No shit!)

Instead, I focus on what she gets from the arrangement. "About this orgasm fast... you can do anything you like of course, but if you then backslide it loses its power. Also, I think I'm only allowed to come after we've been intimate."

"But 40 days is next Thursday," she says. "That's not very convenient."

Doing my best not to sound like a lawyer, I answer, "Once my time has expired I get an orgasm at the next opportunity - if you think I deserve it - say Saturday or Sunday."

"OK. It's still 40 days, then," says Xena.

I relax. Xena doesn't like complicated arrangements. That discussion could have gone badly.

I decide to push my luck and make a slightly insane suggestion based a little on my Chastity Belt novel:

Her pleasure - midweek at least - becomes a direct cause
 of my suffering
.  
"You know we're always talking about midweek quickies but never quite manage them?" I say. "Well suppose any orgasm you have during the week adds an extra day?"

"How would that work?" asks Xena sleepily.

"Suppose you come back from yoga on Tuesday and get me to go down on you," I say. "That would mean I had to wait until Day 41. It would make it more... amusing for you."

"OK," says Xena, not really giving anything away. Later she falls asleep on me as I stroke her hair.

I lie there half-aroused, wondering whether this will work as expected.  When Xena was younger, I suspect she enjoyed the power of her sexuality and the way it made young men feel threatened and disconcerted. This new arrangement makes her dangerous again. Her pleasure - midweek at least - becomes a direct cause of my suffering.

 Your life could be like this too! Try my Female Centered Femdom self help books

Tuesday, 4 March 2014

Second Sabbatical in Slave Land: It's real! - A nasty whipping from a suddenly sadistic wife

"I'll bring my Christmas boots."
"I'll bring my Christmas boots," said Xena, meaning the knee-length ones she picked up in the Christmas sales, the ones that give me a hard on just contemplating.

We were planning our romantic weekend, and that was her way of telling me that it would be a Femdom one. I wasn't complaining.

Now weeks later, I'm kneeling with my arms stretched out and pinned to the high foot of bed in our holiday cottage. If I strain my ears, I can hear the sea and the wind, and the rain on the windowpane. Mostly, though, I can hear my own pulse.

We already had a finale for our one-week Femdom sabbatical. I had forty or so demerits, which Xena administered in blocks of ten. She was tired and more amused than turned on. It also amused her to give me a chance to get off by pegging myself, and then announcing that that was it until the next weekend.

"...it was a kind of sea change with her
sadistic side emerging into the light."

Find out how to get some of this in your life!
Looking back, it was a kind of sea change with her sadistic side emerging into the light. However it wasn't really a peak experience for either of us.

Now, on my 28th day of denial, I wanted this time to be different. I'd racked up a few demerits over the previous week, and then, with Xena's agreement, added one for each upwards fluctuation in my weight (I am on a diet). That took me to 40 demerits.

Earlier, as I rubbed her feet I asked permission to make a suggestion and then said, "It occurred to me that whippings are only really interesting to you when I'm outside my limits."

"It's all the same to me," she said offhandedly, still not rushing to hold her sadism up to the light.

"Fair enough," I said, "But how about you give them all to me at one go, anyway?"

"OK," she said and went back to her book.

Now, an hour later, she sweeps into the room in a feminine skirt, knee-length boots clopping on the thin carpet.

I mewl and lick my lips.

"Don't do that. It's disgusting," she says. Then she raises her hem, exposing first the warm thigh length socks and then her neatly trimmed bush - no underwear tonight.

It would be enough that she looks delicious. However it's even more amazing that she's actually visually teasing me. My vulnerable chaste state has given her back her sexual aggression. Groaning, I lose control of my Kegel muscles which twitch wildly, making my penis inflate painfully inside its cage.

Xena strides over to the bed, picks up the dressage whip I bought years ago, and then beats the hell out of me.

It hurt.
Find out how to get some of this in your life!
Thinking about it as I type this turns me on. And the prospect of it gave an edge to the preceding week. However it was not an erotic experience right then.

It hurt.

Really hurt.

I strained against the bonds, whimpered, almost wept, and it still hurt.

All the while she gave a running commentary in a playful mocking voice. "That's ten. Just think. only thirty more... Oh I lost count. Start again... tee-he..."

Finally Xena stopped, flopped on the bed so I could admire her boots, then finally released me. She had me take off the boots off, alas, but then got under the covers and had me go down on her.

This was the first time I'd got to serve her orally after a proper beating, and I burrowed under the covers with glee.

She was already hot and wet. Beating me, I realized with a dark thrill, had turned her on.

Later as I stroke her hair and she teases me about how many days I must to wait before an orgasm, I say, "Just so you know, that whipping was wasn't remotely erotic. I really wanted it to end..."

Xena interrupts with a laugh. "I know."

"...but nothing on earth would have made me ask you to stop," I complete.

That was four days ago, and I still haven't been
permitted an orgasm.

Find out how to get some of this in your life!
"And if you had asked, I still wouldn't have stopped," says Xena sweetly, and I know instantly that she means it.

"Oh Christ," I say. "This is real! You never were any good at role play."

She tilts her chin. "Of course it's real! How else did you want me to approach this? Are you complaining?"

"No, no," I say. "I'm just outside my comfort zone. I've always tried to keep this limited. But you're an all or nothing person... I guess I'm trapped by my own fetish..."

"You are, aren't you?" she says with a note of glee.

I squirm, hard again inside my chastity device.

That was four days ago, and I still haven't been permitted an orgasm.


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

Monday, 3 March 2014

Second Sabbatical in Slave Land: Chastity, Denial and Leakage...

It turns out that my slightly smug blog entry of more than a week ago was wrong. I wasn't coming to the end of my chastity marathon.

It's as if, now she knows she has complete control,
she has just let go and started to enjoy it.
We switched back to normal on the Saturday morning, but then the whirl of friends, relatives and sporting commitments took over. Saturday night we both crashed out without "playing". Sunday Xena had work to do and we hit the sack early and slept.

"Ah-ha!" I though. "She's probably forgotten she controls my orgasms." I rather wickedly decided to make her complicit in a longer period of denial. We already had a romantic weekend break planned, which was always going to be a Femdom one. All I had to do was hang on.

So, on Thursday was we drive off to the secluded seaside cottage, I mentioned that I have not had an orgasm for nearly twenty six days.

Xena said, "I know. But you had your chance on Saturday night." Saturday night, she had laughed at me while I squirmed around trying to peg myself.

I added that twenty eight days would be a record for me--I expected to unlock on the Sunday morning and perhaps get off then or in the evening.

Xena laughed. "But that's so near thirty days. Thirty is a nice round number."

My penis went off like an airbag. I squirmed in the passenger seat a vague panic merely fueling my arousal.

Later in the weekend, Xena commented, "How about forty? That's nearer your age." And laughed when I groaned and humped the air.

It's as if, now she knows she has complete control, she has just let go and started to enjoy it. The end result is that I am slightly beyond my comfort zone, trapped by my fetish, and wondering whether tonight I will actually get to come.

Why not introduce some Female Centered Femdom to your relationship?