Just a start
Posted: Fri Nov 08, 2013 1:13 pm
I'm writing some short stories about Male Chastity to go on Amazon / Kindle and elsehwere (have written other stuff on there, but not adult).
In the meanwhile I started a sort of first person, longer semi autobiographical thing..... will put first bit on here and see what you think? Would appreciate feedback. thanks.
Ninety eight hours since the lock was sealed again. Numbers are part of it for me; I have no idea if they are for her. The Key Keeper could say that they weren’t but that might be part of the fun. Who knows if she’s counting?
I’ve just been exercising. Twenty minutes on the Cross Trainer in my boxers instead of a visit to the gym. The heavy, shining steel spiral can almost get out through my button fly but there’s no-one in and it's less humiliating than all that stealthy behaviour needed to get a shower at the Leisure Centre! The weighty ring around the base of my testes feels good, very good. Now and then my padlock chinks on the cage, metal on metal.
This book will tell you my story. On the way I will explain what I’ve found to be the case with real male chastity. This book won’t have any ‘Madame Sophie’, the horse riding aristocrat who likes to whip her boys and talk about derrieres in a fictional world that stems from ancient pornography. This book tells you about my journey from dissipated and disillusioned player to permanently excited and intrigued cuckold. My partner works in an office. She wears an identity badge on a lanyard. If you look very closely you can see a small key nestling against the identity badge. That’s the key to my chastity.
How Did it Start?
In childhood. I Think I was about ten years old, but can’t be sure. At a family party I wandered upstairs for some reason and came across the teenage version of the party. My female cousin, about eight years older than me, was in a room with many of her friends, all female. They were probably drinking and even more likely smoking. All I remember is blushing. The situation was electric, immediately. I felt a rush of emotions, all the stronger for being unexpected. They were teasing me. I can’t remember how but I knew it was happening. What confused me was that I didn’t want to run. I was enjoying being controlled, perhaps even humiliated. I’m no psychologist and don’t really want to know the answer but is it something in us that provokes these feelings, or are they imposed by our experience? Whatever the answer I now know I’m not unusual. The most popular manufacturer’s website will inform you that total sales of their chastity devices for men are now towards or past a million.
The next player in my chastity development was a certain Sadie Stern. In my teens I would travel to Charing Cross station in London and walk towards Soho spending my money on the best porn magazines I could find. This was the 1970s, Mary Millington was the name to know. At the very end of this time I noticed a new, darker magazine, Sadie Stern’s Monthly. The pictures were of high booted, often bored looking women who were usually smoking, or sitting on a man’s face, or both. The stories and the letters were the real treat though. I realised that the feeling of pure naughtiness and excitement increased the more I read. Queening became an ambition – I longed for one of these women to sit hard on my face and smother me. I wanted to feel owned, controlled and used. My favourite stories of all involved the man who didn’t get to service his partner or wife, but got to watch others taking that role. Creampies and chastity cages were not the vogue yet but the ideas were there, growing irresistibly inside me.
That’s all some thirty years ago, and it’s taken that long to get to where I want to be. In between there have been wonderful experiences and woeful ones too, but it’s the last year that holds the most interest for anyone with similar persuasions.
In the meanwhile I started a sort of first person, longer semi autobiographical thing..... will put first bit on here and see what you think? Would appreciate feedback. thanks.
Ninety eight hours since the lock was sealed again. Numbers are part of it for me; I have no idea if they are for her. The Key Keeper could say that they weren’t but that might be part of the fun. Who knows if she’s counting?
I’ve just been exercising. Twenty minutes on the Cross Trainer in my boxers instead of a visit to the gym. The heavy, shining steel spiral can almost get out through my button fly but there’s no-one in and it's less humiliating than all that stealthy behaviour needed to get a shower at the Leisure Centre! The weighty ring around the base of my testes feels good, very good. Now and then my padlock chinks on the cage, metal on metal.
This book will tell you my story. On the way I will explain what I’ve found to be the case with real male chastity. This book won’t have any ‘Madame Sophie’, the horse riding aristocrat who likes to whip her boys and talk about derrieres in a fictional world that stems from ancient pornography. This book tells you about my journey from dissipated and disillusioned player to permanently excited and intrigued cuckold. My partner works in an office. She wears an identity badge on a lanyard. If you look very closely you can see a small key nestling against the identity badge. That’s the key to my chastity.
How Did it Start?
In childhood. I Think I was about ten years old, but can’t be sure. At a family party I wandered upstairs for some reason and came across the teenage version of the party. My female cousin, about eight years older than me, was in a room with many of her friends, all female. They were probably drinking and even more likely smoking. All I remember is blushing. The situation was electric, immediately. I felt a rush of emotions, all the stronger for being unexpected. They were teasing me. I can’t remember how but I knew it was happening. What confused me was that I didn’t want to run. I was enjoying being controlled, perhaps even humiliated. I’m no psychologist and don’t really want to know the answer but is it something in us that provokes these feelings, or are they imposed by our experience? Whatever the answer I now know I’m not unusual. The most popular manufacturer’s website will inform you that total sales of their chastity devices for men are now towards or past a million.
The next player in my chastity development was a certain Sadie Stern. In my teens I would travel to Charing Cross station in London and walk towards Soho spending my money on the best porn magazines I could find. This was the 1970s, Mary Millington was the name to know. At the very end of this time I noticed a new, darker magazine, Sadie Stern’s Monthly. The pictures were of high booted, often bored looking women who were usually smoking, or sitting on a man’s face, or both. The stories and the letters were the real treat though. I realised that the feeling of pure naughtiness and excitement increased the more I read. Queening became an ambition – I longed for one of these women to sit hard on my face and smother me. I wanted to feel owned, controlled and used. My favourite stories of all involved the man who didn’t get to service his partner or wife, but got to watch others taking that role. Creampies and chastity cages were not the vogue yet but the ideas were there, growing irresistibly inside me.
That’s all some thirty years ago, and it’s taken that long to get to where I want to be. In between there have been wonderful experiences and woeful ones too, but it’s the last year that holds the most interest for anyone with similar persuasions.