For the first time in a while, my lovely KH has decided on an extended period of enforced chastity.
We had taken some significant time off from week-long and longer lockups — knowing it causes my head to do cartwheels and backflips — but it seems as though we’ve quickly arrived on the evening of Day 7 in a recently renewed return to “normal.”
She’s teasing, She’s had her fun and hopped off, and She’s showing no signs of relenting until at least Thursday. I’m already past the point where I’ve shifted my focus completely to Her pleasure … but that creeping desire for Her Feeldoe is building exponentially now.
It has to be on about that fifth day, when hormones have settled and it’s pleasant to be locked up, where the two lines on the graph intersect; desire for the male orgasm on the decline, the fullness of feeling in the prostate on the ascendency.
That’s the point, for me anyway, at which the Wee Slaphead begins the pleasant and unstoppable production of so-called “chastity tears,” and there’s nothing I can do to stop them whilst locked away.
A couple nights ago, She decided to mention Her purple friend, and since then … thoughts of just patiently remaining locked for months, or of decidedly submissive behaviours involving collared chores … ugh.
This is both frustrating and delightful. I feel like I either need release long enough for a good roll in the heather … or else a mopping cap, a proper housekeeper’s dress and a squirt of super-glue in this lock.
(That third photo was borrowed from another tumblr’s blog, @romanhandsrushing, but is incredibly descriptive of my feelings at the moment.)
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