The case of the flipping brain

No, this blog is not dead. I am still alive and my mind is as active as it has ever been. But there do seem to be tumbleweeds blowing past the banner lately, and cobwebs growing in the corners. What has happened? How is all the kinkiness coming?

All is well, I assure both of my readers. But my brain has been flipped into a different "mode" than it was in for so long. You see, I was looking for my "someone" and experimenting with kinkiness while I looked. I have found someone to spend ridiculous amounts of time with, thus the flip. For a while, I thought the flip was just to enjoy somebody's company as we passed near each other in the currents and eddies of life. But the connection seems to be sticking; we're growing addictingly attached and show no signs of going anywhere. This could get serious, is getting serious, and that's where my time and energy are going... should go... will continue to go. So if I don't post much, please take that as a good development. This is a rabbit hole I want to explore with no preconceptions as to where it might lead.

Despite the rarity of posts, my mind is still engaged and stirring. As I come up with additional thoughts that seem like they should be public, I'll share here. If you want to know more, I would be happy to respond to direct e-mail notes. Thanks for your interest, and I hope to chat with each of you soon.

QL

Slumps

I understand that people who make their livings through performances -- sports figures, actors, musicians -- occasionally go through slumps. For some period of time they just are not at their best. It would be tempting to draw out a curve of performance, overlay all sorts of possible triggers, and try to identify the "one thing" that caused the decrease in performance. Then it could be dealt with. But often it's not that simple. The human animal is complex and operates in an environment that is not entirely controllable.

Much has been written about the emotional angst men go through when they have a performance "slump." Most women are more understanding than their partners give them credit for, but a slump can bring tension into the relationship. When there is no past relationship trust to hang onto during a slump, however, then the situation takes on a more daunting pall.

There are two things happening in my life that are somewhat "new." First, I'm seeing someone for the first time in a very long time. It's fun and exciting and I think she's really wonderful in a whole host of ways. I'm mildly smitten, "going down like a bowling pin" as a friend humorously observes. And I'm enjoying it in a very relaxed way. But I'm also in the first slump I can ever remember in my entire life. The two facts seem to be on a collision course. For now I'm not in a hurry on the relationship front and she seems fine with that. But at some point the slump will have to be a vague historical fact or there will be a very awkward situation.

All I can do is cut back on the exercise a little, keep eating right, increase my sleep a bit, and find time to relax and not work until 11:00 at night. This, too, shall pass. I just hope it does so without causing any real problems. Anxiety is not a solution.

*sigh*

Maybe I get off on being lonely. Then I'd have a fetish of one.

I'm off to sacrifice a chicken before the big game.

Quietlisten

Frustration at Not Being Frustrated

There are two parts to this post... the technical and the emotional.

The Technical:

In my quest to improve the CB-6000 for longer-term wear, I've made some improvements. These include smoothing out some rough edges (which get amplified 1000x after a couple of days of rubbing in the same place), sealing a couple of leaks in the seam of the cage, and ordering a set of KSD-3G "units." These are little "tongues" of silicone that lock on the to main pin and make the cage slightly smaller in height. At the end of the tongue, though, is a ridge which is catches the back of the coronal ridge of the penis head and prevents extraction. This keeps the head from moving backward. The intent is to make pulling out harder (security), but I'm hoping it keeps everything positioned so that general daily wear is easier. One of the problems it is supposed to help with is night wear, something I've had problems with.

The Emotional:

I was really looking forward to trying the fixed-up and improved device over this long weekend. But the KSD-G3 order seemed to just STOP half way across the country. I had tracking turned on and watched it ship and move (isn't technology wonderful) then... no progress for several days. Okay, so I didn't pay for super-duper there-in-ten-minutes shipping. It's only a $35 item. But I had hoped that things would go reasonably smoothly and I'd get to play this weekend. Instead, though, I got to play with myself. How terrible! Haha.

The shipment should be here in the next few days. I can just see having to go to the post office and having them ask "what's in the package?" "Oh, it's a flapper seal for a fuel pump." Riiiiiiight.

I like how my mind changes when I'm denied for a little bit. I think there's a balance, though, between chastity and release. Yes, it would be nice if that schedule was in the hands of someone I loved who could monitor and cajole, but for now I'll just have to do things myself. I don't want to just lock it on and forgo all pleasure forever, just "charge up" the interesting bits a little.

I'll let everyone know how things go when the improvements are in place.

Quietlisten
(Cross-posted to http://collarncuffs.com)

Fantasy vs. Reality

I've been entertaining family for the past week or so. While I have a comfortable home, it's not difficult to feel that privacy is stashed in the back corner of the closet somewhere. So any prurient thoughts I have must stay just that. Even getting a few minutes as now to hack out a quick note requires that it be after midnight with everyone else in bed.

So to the title of this post: Fantasy vs. Reality. My self-image is of someone who is learning and connecting to the extent possible while he looks for his mate. But the kinks I think I "need" are swept under the carpet for the duration of an interloper's visit. Needs? Hmmmmm.... So what force those "needs?" Fantasies, really? (Sorry for the compact and twisted sentence, but I like it.)

I'm interested in picking up my experiments in chastity, but that will have to wait. Or is it just toying with the device that must wait? Are the important things in reality just percolating between our ears? Or is any of this really important to begin with? Next to having family that will drop in and disrupt my entire lifestyle because they care to spend time with me, all these little trappings are nothing.

Quietlisten

Out of Sight, Never out of Mind

Five boxes and six hanging bags lay on and around the couch in the living room, ready to be carried to the basement. In them are my toys and femme clothes: cuffs, collars, butt plug, vibrator, silk blouses, padded bras, high heels, makeup, a handful of books and videos. It's all packed up and ready for storage. Everything but the CB-6000.

This has been coming for a while now. My urges to dress have been close to zero for the past year or so, awakening briefly one or two times for a matter of hours. Part of that is the natural ebb and flow of life; busy at work, busy at home, busy with community service and several sports. But part of it is an overall tamping down by repeated and clear messages: very, very few women I would be interested in would have any reaction other than absolute and strident revulsion at the thought of a man having such interests. So when I look at the clothes I see diminished long-term happiness, otherwise wonderful women ruled out for a fantasy that's unlikely to be realized in any case.

Does that mean it's not a part of me? No. Does it mean that I'm getting rid of everything, confident that doing so would solve anything? No. It means that I will likely get farther setting that part of me aside while I open up to what is important. If I find someone and we communicate well, we will figure this out together at some point. But my filter is already so stringent that I have an emotional bubble around me; adding to that seems unwise.

I have put things away before and they always find the right time to come back out. And there are other alternatives for feeding the occasional urge, like my submissive female character in Second Life. That doesn't take up nearly as much closet space, and I can walk away without worrying about leaving try-ons all over my room.

I suspect that more than one reader of my blog will understand exactly where I'm coming from. I'd love to hear comments from anyone who has been through this as well as women who have some visibility into the phenomenon. This blogging is more of a learning exercise than a rant, after all.

Quietlisten
(cross-posted to collarncuffs.com)

A Weekend Off

I decided to take the weekend off from chastity. Partly this is due to the mechanical problems with the device, but also because I just didn't have anything I wanted to accomplish with it. So I went my own way and had a wonderfully vanilla weekend.

I'm motivated at the moment by pursuits that have nothing to do with mind games or sex or bdsm. I have a tendency to not only start projects that most people cannot believe I'm attempting, but also to get several of them going at once. Every once in a while I have to drag one of these over the finish line and declare it done. And that's what I'm doing now. The sexual games at the moment -- since there isn't anyone to share them with -- are a distraction, filler between the major blocks of my life. For the moment, that's how it has to be.

But at some point I'll feel the need to get back to where I was and pick up the experiments. Maybe next weekend? The one after that? Who knows.

That does NOT, however, stop my mind from churning and wondering about all sorts of things. So stay tuned.

Quietlisten

Wow, this is really hard!

My hat is off to guys who stay locked in chastity tubes for longer than a few hours. It's really hard. (Pardon the pun.) I've been locked in since Thursday, except for when I'm asleep. Overall, I enjoy having the thing locked on, but the reasons for that have been changing. At first, it was just a physical sensation of having my privates caged and locked. Yes, that part of the submissive's mind that enjoys being bound will like the sensation of the CB. After wearing it for a while, though, I felt a slightly longer term change. I had to avoid arousing images or even dwelling on certain thoughts too much or I would be reminded that my arousal was under lock and key, not just my physical parts. A cock cage, after all, polices erection, not sex. (I define sex as a LOT more than penetration.)

Then yesterday I saw a beautiful woman crossing the parking lot of a store I was exiting. Normally I would think something like "holy crap, is she beautiful," and be on my way. But yesterday I had a sensation of being very, very submissive to her and absolutely no threat to her whatsoever. It may sound odd, that "no threat" part, but western society sends messages -- some subtle, some overt -- to everyone. To women it's "you're not pretty enough," and to men it's "you are a potential rapist." As this woman passed ten feet away, I felt absolved of the unspoken accusation. I noticed her, had a fleeting wish to carry her packages for her, and went on my way.

I wonder what would happen if there was some way that women could tell instantly and without a doubt which guys were locked up. Maybe a piece of jewelry could tell the tale. Would meeting a single guy and knowing he was locked make any difference to the conversation? To her opinion of him? Yes, a thousand anwers depending on who "she" is and who "he" is, but a curious thought experiment. Or is it a fantasy?

Back to the wearing of the thing...

The problems associated with a cage device are well documented, and it takes first-hand experience to understand what can be done about some of them. Sleeping and urinating are my biggest problems, in that order.

I need to get pretty accustomed to wearing the device before I try sleeping in it again, and then do so at a time when I can deal with several-times-nightly wake-up calls from nature. I need sleep, especially when I'm ramping up the running, and work is demanding enough that I have to be totally "with it" or I'll get into trouble pretty quickly. Gotta sleep.

Yesterday when I was getting myself put together in the morning, I found that one of the guide pins on the CB had come out of its socket. It goes right back in and can be glued without a problem, but I'll do that during the week.

I spent several hours yesterday afternoon in a place without toilets. I'll skip all the messy details except to say that I noticed a stream coming out of the top of the CB; the seam has a small pinhole in it that is only detectable by "fluids under pressure." That's another easy fix (I put clear tape over it for the time being), but I'm getting fairly annoyed at the number of "little fixes" that this thing is requiring.

Finally, I do have to wear loose clothing to accommodate the CB. That's not a HUGE big deal, but it is different. It does not lend itself to cross-dressing very well at all; it makes the bulge BIGGER, which is kind of not the point.

So there is my current ramble about my experiences and thoughts over the past days. My opinion is pretty much unchanged: as one tool among many for couples to play with, to extend sexuality out of the bedroom, chastity is a delicious experience that provides access to many levels of mental play. But I wouldn't want to be in long-term lockup unless a woman got SERIOUSLY off on it. And even then, it would take some kind of mental stimulation to make it worth while... she would have to talk to me and let me know what she was getting out of it.

The last experiment I have considered is to see how long it takes in chastity before I can "milk" my prostate, or if I even can. It's day four without erection or stimulation, so I'm thinking my chances are pretty good. We'll see. I'll post something if I figure it out.

What I might do with all of this information I'm gathering through experiment, I have no idea. Perhaps I should write an owner's manual for myself, an indexed PDF file with a little registration card in the back for the warranty. Who said relationships were risky? 10 years or 150,000 miles of trouble-free service. What more can you ask for?

Quietlisten

(Note: Cross-posted to collarncuffs.com)

It's NOT Chastity

I was doing some mundane paperwork this morning when it dawned on me that what I am experimenting with at the moment is NOT chastity. It's been far too long since I've been with somebody I cared about, so I've BEEN chaste. I've been way too chaste for way too long, and there has been no barrier beyond my own personal decisions to make that true.

What I'm really playing with is sexual control, symbolism, masturbating the brain by not masturbating the external bits. It's a sense of being locked up even while out in public that has me interested. Perhaps I need the sense that not everything is about my own physical enjoyment. I LIKE to think that I'm building a skill that a fairly vanilla (though open-minded) woman might find attractive. But I get something out of it, too. The details of that are only slowly coming visible.

But the chastity is self-imposed and not entirely connected to the device. That's probably obvious to everyone but me.

Quietlisten

Back in

I'm back in the chastity cage. After a weekend out of town I was wanting to give it another try. This time my expectations are a little different. I know how hard it will be to get through the night, so tonight I'll remove the device (I have to be 100% at work, no way around that) and it'll go back on first thing in the morning. I'll be on the move tomorrow, by car, so I can get away with this in a way I normally cannot. So almost four days locked up; a reasonable next step in my experimentation. And I'll do everything I can to not remove it at night, even if I wake up in pain. I'll try to summarize my experiences towards the end of the weekend.

As an aside, I found a couple of wonderful blogs today, both dominant women who veer away from traditional fetish and towards intimate femdom. I wish there were more ladies like this, but it's no wonder they are very taken. Or, rather, have taken.

femdomalt.blogspot.com is the Femdom Alternative. It's wonderful to read about a woman who is lovingly dominant and fully embraces her sexuality.

femdom101.blogspot.com is, well, femdom 101. Another woman who uses dominance to bring her closer to her husband.

Everyone have a wonderful rest of the week. I'm off to try running in this cage (it worked okay once; hope that's normal).

Quietlisten

Another day

I'm back in it, though I didn't sleep with it on last night. Yes, of course I'm talking about the CB-6000. It really isn't bad to wear around doing day-to-day stuff, and today I'm in the office a good chunk of the day.

A friend from a kink-friendly site sent a note asking about the CB's significance to relationships, not just the physical restrain. Yes, promoting intimacy would be a huge purpose of the device, and I wouldn't enjoy it if she didn't positively get off on holding the key. The idea is to be reminded of her by wearing the device, and for her to be reminded of me by holding the key. It's probably one of the more vanilla methods of BDSM play (if that isn't a total oxymoron) and possibly pretty acceptable to women who don't think of themselves as "Dominant."

Does that make it a "slippery slope" device? Next thing you know, she could be making small demands in exchange for release or (God forbid) asking for exactly what she wants in bed. Gosh, I hope so.

So why am I doing this? Well, I figure this is a good skill to have as a submissive, a famliarization with more methods of play that a woman might actually enjoy. I do need more than vanilla mercenary 2.13 times per week, and feeding my imagination takes a good-sized shovel. I can feed a that imagination a little bit on my own, but I really do hope to have someone to share it all with.

Now it's off to the day's activites to wrap up this wonderful holiday weekend.

Quietlisten
(Note: Cross-posted to http://collarncuffs.com.)

Ouch

Last night was my first attempt at sleeping in the CB. I had found a very comfortable combination of base ring and spacer for normal use. I even spent a chunk of yesterday working in the yard in the heat with no ill effects. The trick, it seams, is loose underwear. I hate boxers because they broadcast arousal to the world, the "tent syndrome." They're horrendously uncomfortable if a single seam isn't sewn just so. But the CB fixes all that. It's protective and totally prevents unauthorized "salutes."

So the wearing went well yesterday, even chafe-free. The urinating part is still a problem and I have no idea how I would pull that off in a work environment. When I went to bed, I was feeling comfortable and secure.

At about 12:30 I woke up in total agony. I felt like some particularly sensitive body parts were being rended from my lower torso. It wasn't a sharp pain like being struck or cut, but as if the entire package was being physically pulled away, no anesthesia.

I sat at the edge of the bed trying desperately to calm things down by thinking about dead kittens, trench warfare, and Nancy Pelosi. But the problem wasn't that I was having arousing thoughts. Some subconscious maintenance cycle was clearing the arterial plumbing, and it hurt like nobody's business. After five minutes of teeth-gritting, sweating agony, the problem abated and I went back to sleep.

Then at 4:30 Maintenance Cycle Two began. This time I couldn't do it. I grabbed the key and let myself out. It was such a sense of relief that I just lay there chuckling for a moment. I haven't put it all back on yet; had an alarm to deal with first thing this morning. I slept in later than I wanted to and now am trying to catch up.

But the bottom line is that sleeping in a CB is not easy. Perhaps it wasn't fitted exactly right as I went to sleep. Maybe this effect would diminish over time. But I need sleep and cannot at the moment suffer this kind of loss. So I'm not sure how to proceed. Some research is in order.

Hopefully more positive reports to come, but for now there are obstacles to be overcome. And a penpal is asking what chastity means to me. Ooof. Another blog post in that, I think.

Quietlisten
(Cross-posted to: http://collarncuffs.com)

An Experiment

When I arrived home from work yesterday to begin this holiday weekend, I immediately changed out of my work clothes and donned my CB-6000. It took some doing since I haven't had relief in a few days, and I found that the discomfort of ice almost exactly matches the arousal of stimulation. I had to stand over an air conditioning duct and think about accounting principles in order to get into the CB.

Then I went out running a few errands and forgot the key at home. Freudian slip? Not sure. But for several hours I went about my business locked and without a key. Cool.

I did hit one bump last night. I woke up to a very sore base ring, so I took the whole thing off. As soon as I awakened, I located and put on the next larger ring and hope that solves the problem. I'll be working in the yard today, so I should find out if this will work in a demanding environment. And I'll be working in the shop later as well. I'll report back on results as the weekend progresses.

My intent is to stay in the CB as much as possible and work out the logistical quirks of the device. Theoretically, if I can wear it comfortably for three days I can wear it longer. If I can get comfortable enough to wear it at work, I may try longer stints. If I can wear it longer with some confidence, then I may re-think what I want out of all this. Right now I just see this as a skill that a good submissive male should have on offer.

Have a wonderful weekend everyone. I'm enjoying mine already.

Quietlisten
(Note: Cross-posted to http://collarncuffs.com.)

CB

No, I'm not talking about a type of two-way radio, popular in 70s trucker movies. My brand new CB-6000 arrived in the mail last week, and I just HAD to try it out. It took some time to figure out exactly which rings and spacer to use, how to get everything "situated." But once I did, I found it to be far more comfortable than I expected.

Walking around, I found that I hardly noticed it, though it did provide the vague sense of confinement and support that I was really looking for. Obviously I have no intimate keyholder, but wouldn't it be nice to be ready should I find one?

I have ventured out in the device and don't think it could cause a lot of fuss. But I'm not ready to wear it to work or to bed yet. The problem at work is that it's best to sit down to use the restroom. And that would be a little strange after a while, especially for a caffeine hound like me. Unless I can figure out how to use the urinals with it on, I'm probably going to experiment elsewhere. In bed, the problem is that I can be an "active" sleeper. I've been known to knock pillows off the bed and wake up in a reverse orientation from where I started. It's the aliens, I swear.

Surprisingly, there is a little bit of a psychological impact to wearing the CB. It may just be the fact that such a symbol of my manhood is locked away. Or, perhaps it's the sense that I want to avoid arousal because it can lead to strain and even discomfort if unchecked. Whatever it is, being chastized is a very submissive and sexual thing for a guy.

I love it.

But I'm not sure how I would deal with long-term wear. I shaved a bit and wore it for a full day last weekend, and that -- in the heat and humidity of Georgia -- was enough for an active guy to get just a touch pink from rubbing. With wear that would work itself out, but something to build up to. With a little motivation from a caring female, I'm sure I could find a way.

I'll try to keep everyone up to date on my chastity adventures. For now, just a bit of harmless fun and learning. I have no idea where it's going from here.

Quietlisten

Vulnerability

As I mentioned in another post, I recently tried an experiment in chastity. I found it to be extremely powerful. Not only did it make me feel thoroughly sexual, but the frustration of it played with my mind in a very fundamental way. As time went on, I became emotionally dependent on approval from my keyholder to the extent that I wondered what I would NOT do for her. I felt docile, hungry (see my blog post on that subject), and extremely sexually charged. That's when something inexplicable happened: instead of being desperate to be allowed release, I wanted to be kept on edge, puppet to her will, tuned and ready. Locked and owned.

It was a temporary experiment and one which I thoroughly enjoyed. Since then I've had total freedom but find myself reading about male chastity, remembering that desperate need to please and earn approval. But even if I bought a device and was locked up, the most important ingredient would be missing: her. Trust was my payment in our exchange, and that made it possible for me to enjoy the sensations and mind games of chastity. And without being under her protection, I would be vulnerable under lock and key to almost any woman who wanted to manipulate me. Yes, it's that powerful. Its powerful enough to make me read up on prostate massage and milking, to wake up thinking about butt plugs and remote-controlled vibrating eggs. Yes, the mind gets odd and dives down all sorts of rabbit holes when it's bathed in sexual chemicals.

I'm not likely to do anything more with this until I find a woman to share it with, someone I trust. I think that of my quirks this is probably the least shocking (and maybe most pleasing?) to an open-minded woman and could be a great way to establish a relationship if she's already in the kinky camp. (Should a man get down on both knees to offer his keys to a woman?) In the mean time, I seem to be relieving myself more and enjoying it less than ever before. I'm not sure why. But, then, sex and relationships and power exchange are all strange things that don't always have clear answers.

Quietlisten
(Cross-Posted to http://collarncuffs.com)

Time

Everyone has periods in their lives during which time is an impossibly scarce commodity. It's the one thing we cannot create, we can only use more efficiently. I'm in one of those crunch periods: up at 5:00, running flat out through a day of event and task triage, finally realizing that it's 10:00 and I need to get to bed soon so I'm not exhausted the next day. I'm two weeks into the current stretch, and should clear it in a few days. But it got me thinking...

Triage can be a great thing. When I'm under the gun and having to make decisions about what gets done and what gets booted from my schedule, I'm telling myself what is truly important to me. I'll find a way to fit in important things. Lately I've been spending very little time on my own direct sexual pleasure and release, and significant time on relationships. I'm also still spending time making sure I'm communicative as a submissive male in the sea of submissive males. I cannot, it seems, stay away from the idea of finding a woman I match closely.

Lack of time has postponed a few experiments, though. I wanted to try out a chastity device and explore that a little further, though not sure exactly where I want it to go. (My intuition tells me that it's the attitude and intent of the woman holding the key that is as important as the fact of the chastity itself.) I'm also in a little bit of a dressing cycle, but I just don't have time to put myself together in a respectful, feminine way between dashes in and out for one event, task, or other. Does this mean that these things are not important to me? Or am I simply unwilling to do them half way?

Crunch time isn't really a problem, because it's temporary and part of the way I've structured my time. And it pays for a lot of wonderful things in my wonderful life. I know play time is coming, relaxation to match the all-out dash I'm running now. I just don't know yet whether I'll be spending that more-relaxed time in a chastity cage, skirt, and heels.

Time will tell.

Quietlisten

Room

I spent part of my weekend re-arranging the garage. I've several projects going on out there to the extent that the car no longer fit. With some effort, though, I was able to make room through neatly crating and creatively stacking and shelving in two storage spaces. Now I can get the car in. But I can barely move inside the storage spaces beyond removing crates and boxes, and to un-pack them I'd have to move the car outside again.

I find this situation hilarious, particularly since I just bought this house less than a year ago and at the time couldn't imagine how I'd use all the space.

What does this have to do with the topic of this blog? Well, I tend to go on and on about my search for my Domme. There are so many things I'd want to share, learn, explore with her. Whole swaths of my mind and emotions can only be tapped into by "her," and I'm eager to get glimpses into those places.

But my life is full. I was running solid until 10:00 every night last week (no, not partying) and I rarely get out of bed later than 5:30; 4:30 when I'm in training. Even on weekends I have to calendar events and tasks on my Blackberry to fit everything in. THIS IS NOT A COMPLAINT! This is my choice and my consequence. My reservoir of interests and curiosity seems to be inexhaustible and I choose to live as broadly and deeply as I can, given time, energy, and money.

But where would "she" fit in? She's not going to stand out in the rain while my boxes of stuff stay neatly stacked in storage. I also don't want to dump too many of my little passions, medium-sized projects, or those big life-long goals that make people gasp "you really DID that?" At the moment, these things define me, and I share them with anyone who will listen or participate.

I know my view on the world will change once I fall under her spell, that much of what is in that space will seem like junk when re-evaluated under new, less-spotty and less-dingy light. And it is fear, loneliness, and insecurity that causes us to clutch insignificant things closely to us.

Perhaps, then, all that stuff isn't really a barrier. Perhaps it's an indication, a dashboard readout of whether I've found her. As the stacks of crates disappear, the physical bar-graph indicating fear, loneliness, and insecurity will drop until there is ample floorspace, my long-awaited other held close.

Quietlisten

(Cross-Posted from Collar 'n Cuffs web site blog: collarncuffs.com)

Birds of a Feather

One of the most difficult things about being a submissive guy is the fact that a vast majority of women want Pillars of Dominant Masculinity at the core of their men. That's not to say that these women want a macho jerk in their lives, but they want a guy who comes across as a leader, someone who will take charge, set the pace. To each her own. But that's not me.

I spend my work days getting masses of people (my current effort is about 30 direct, several hundred indirect) lined up and going in the same direction. I lead them, teach them, challenge them, cajole them, encourage them, and -- in those extremely rare cases in which I can find no other alternative -- go toe to toe with them. But I meet my objective. Always. But when I come home I have absolutely no interest in making all the decisions. In fact, the thought nauseates me. CAN I do it? Yes. Is it me? No. What lights my candle is a woman who is comfortable telling me what I can do for her, who gets enjoyment out of my applying my get-it-done attitude to obediently following her lead.

But she will face the same problem I face, only in reverse. Society wants her to be docile and ready to follow a man's lead. She will be hiding behind a sheen of what-is-expected, ready to burst at the mismatch between how she feels and the way so much of the world is. Normal for her isn't normal for the world. To prevent being labeled as "pushy" or "domineering" or "selfish," she will have become adept at keeping her thoughts and feelings hidden.

So we each live our lives, either pretending all the time for fear of not fitting in or dealing with the social disapproval of who we are. The worst thing is that we might be so good at pretending that we could meet, talk, shake hands politely, and go on our way without ever knowing that we just came into contact with someone with whom we share a very profound bond.

As I age and realize that there is a limit to how long I'll be around, I care less about appearances. But I still must put food on the table. My work is in a relationship business, wrecked at the wrong reputation or rumor, built over decades and not to be risked unnecessarily. But I'm more interested every day in finding ways to let the right women know who I am, that we are birds of a feather and we can understand and care about each other as medicine for our mis-fit with society.

Quietlisten

Hunger

I've been fortunate to have been involved in more than one startup company, and I have to say I like the environment. There's a sense that one is inches from the brass ring in front, with the hounds nipping at heels in back. It's peak performance, sometimes desperation, always exhilarating. Everybody is hungry. They are willing to do extraordinary things, and it's rarely only about the money.

Recently I participated in a short (by some standards) experiment in chastity. It was only a couple of weeks, but that was highly unusual for me. I'm accustomed to doing what I want, no consequences. The last time I went a week without self-pleasuring was probably several presidents ago. But I found that as I slipped deeper into the submissive trance that is male chastity, the feeling I developed can best be described as sexually hungry. I wanted something that I couldn't have. And I thought about it in the background all the time.

Oddly, the thoughts were not just about getting off. More, they were about why I wasn't doing something about it when there wasn't even a cage, tube, or teeth preventing me. The only thing stopping me was the trust placed in me that I would not. As I stewed in my hormones, biology telling me in no uncertain terms to DO SOMETHING, it struck me that while I wanted to cum, I needed to obey.

Choosing is setting priorities. I chose to remain chaste until told otherwise and reveled in the sensations that choice caused in my submissive circuitry. Instead of blowing off a little steam now and again, I was experiencing a boiler, temperature and pressure rising. I was hungry to explode, more so not to. I felt tuned and ready, as unselfish as I know how to be; peak performance, desperate, exhilarated.

Now I'm under no restrictions -- experiment over -- and there is no pressure for long. Even if I imposed restrictions on myself, the directive and the object of obedience would not be there. But I've tasted it and so cannot forget. I'll always want to be there again, hungry and as unabashedly myself as I know how to be.

Quietlisten

Launch it!

I'm not a huge blogger. Mainly what I have to say I say directly to the people who need to hear it. It's just so easy to either post drivel or get wrapped up in feeding the Word Beast. So why now? And what the heck is this about?

The biggest reason for this location is to allow outlet for content that I cannot include on my personal blog. That's read by my family, friends, co-workers, etc. So it's not a good idea to recount the trials of being a single, 42-year-old guy who is sexually submissive. (No, that doesn't mean I will submit to anyone who slaps the label "Dominant" on herself.) But I've been learning about kink and about myself at a pretty good clip lately, and a blog is as good a place as any to jot down some of that. Perhaps someone will identify with my comments and I'll make a friend or two.

I'm brewing up a first post, but I have to be up in less than six hours for work, so it will have to wait until tomorrow.

Quietlisten
(Whoever took the url quietlisten.blogspot.com, please either use it or let me.)