Extra Stuff

Thursday, October 6, 2011


In the world of male chastity, orgasm control, Domination/submission, and FLRs (female led relationships) it's common to assign names pertaining to the role one plays e.g. Master, slave, Mistress, pet, Goddess, boy......what have you. As I read up on male chastity I also learned that "his cock" - once put under her control or put into a device - became "her cock". Sometimes not even a cock at all. It becomes simply a penis or something even lowlier than that. A useless dick or a sissy clit. It might sound silly to you, but it's part of the game that gets some people off. And everyone gets to make their own game rules. I'm no exception.

Less than a year ago when I realized that my new found fascination with male chastity was growing into a serious interest, I brought it up to Od. I was very careful to leave our conversations open ended. He didn't shut the idea down right away. (that's never been his style) And I didn't push or get impatient. (which had previously been exactly my style) I wielded patience, offered information, shared my ideas and gave him time. Luckily for me he came around.  ;)  The biggest issue has always been (not just for us but most every other chastity player) which device to choose. There are dozens upon dozens to choose from. The most practical to begin with is a polycarbonate model that is affordable and adjustable. But I find it so ugly. I wanted steel. The shiny, heavier metal just seemed right for Od and I love the look. Plus it's engravable. I wanted my mark on him in the most intimate of places. But, what would my mark be?

I'm not officially his Mistress. He is not my pet. That's not an area we've delved into. I can't think of him as a boy. He's too manly for that, and quite honestly that's how I want him to remain. His offering to me of control over his cock (yes it's still called a cock) means more to me coming from a place of strength rather than weakness. Despite all the endearing names that he has assigned to me and to parts of my anatomy, I've yet to name him. Nothing cutesy or demeaning feels right. But I have a deep sense of ownership over not just him, but also his manhood. I made him a man. I was his first. Only? Time will tell. But for 20 years he has been mine. And then the light bulb moment. Mine. Of course. It was there all along. Mine. It's fitting. That's what I'll have engraved on his device. Mine.

When I curl up to his back on nights I have trouble falling asleep, I nudge my knees under his thighs, my left hand goes straight to his hair and my right hand goes over his hip and straight to his crotch. My fingers wrap around him, my face presses against his back, and with a sigh of contentment my breathing slows. If he's still awake I'll gently squeeze, whisper "mine" and place a kiss on him. He confirms "yours" in a sleepy voice, kisses back at me and tells me goodnight. 

This is the newer routine. Funny thing is - I've been doing some version of this for years and years. Always preferring to be the big spoon, and sometimes with a leg hitched over his. Without the "mine" whispering, mind you - that's more recent. But I vaguely remembering reading somewhere that we reveal ourselves and the nature of our relationship with our partners during the sleeping hours - assuming the sleeping is done together. If not, I suppose that's telling in it's own way. It's not difficult to see that I've asserted dominance, even in sleep, for the majority of our relationship. It's my way of affirming our bond. It makes me smile.

I am his in every way that matters, but ultimately, undeniably he is Mine.