the key is on my nipple ring

Thoughts on Denial September 3, 2010

A week ago Friday, when Ab came home from work, he asked if he could have a little vacation from his device. (This is when he was still in the Birdcage.) We had to go out to see a few people in the evening and then we were going out to dinner. I knew he would be wearing jeans (this is before the heat wave started) and he had told me that jeans and the Birdcage weren’t a great combo for comfort. It seemed like a reasonable request—I didn’t expect him to start jacking off in the middle of the restaurant after all—so I said yes.

Our visit and dinner were pleasant and we capped off the evening with a movie at home (Pirate Radio, if anyone is interested. Definitely recommended, especially if you are old enough to remember listening to the radio in the sixties.)

Then, off to bed. Because we can’t get enough of each other right now, we immediately “assumed the position.” Our position—the way we usually get ourselves warmed up—is that I lay on my back, giving Ab nice easy access to my breasts and pussy, and he sits cross-legged at my side, which works well for vibrator manipulation (yes, I am a definite vibrator loving gal, which I’ll post more about at another time). I slide my hand under his leg, giving me a nice, comfy reach to his cock and balls.

Things progressed, we fooled around, and I ended up happy. But it seemed to me, in my post-orgasmic somewhat bleary-minded state, that Ab had never had a complete erection, nor did he come.

I asked him about this the next day and he said yes, I was correct—he did not have an orgasm even though he had opportunity. The way things went, I certainly wasn’t denying him. “Was this intentional?” I asked. He said yes. Then I asked why.

“Well,” he replied, “I mostly wanted to see if I could deny myself—keep myself from coming. That’s what this game is all about, after all.”

I nodded.

“And,” he said, “you had the freight train thing going on. When you get to that multiple orgasm point, it just really turns me on and I don’t feel the need to ejaculate.”

(I should note that the multiple orgasm “freight train thing” is not easy for me to achieve—yes, it happens and when it does, it’s great, but it is not an every day occurrence. I think it must have something to do with the alignment of the planets, along with a whole bunch of other stuff. 🙂 ).

Now, here we are a week later. I wonder if the scene were replay itself this evening, would it have the same outcome? Would Ab be able to deny himself, or is the power shifting so that orgasm denial is becoming more my responsibility? Except for the groan I heard the other day, he doesn’t act particularly different, but I wonder if mentally, something is going on. I did tell him that he is going to be in the CB all weekend. No breaks, not even for bathing. In fact, when I finish this, I am going to re-hide the spare key. He has had access to it this week; one, because he is still fiddling with the rings and spacers to get the right fit and two, it’s been so hot and he comes home so sweaty and dirty. He asked if he could take it off so he could thoroughly clean himself and the device. For these reasons, I have given him access to the spare key. But, now the weekend is here. He won’t be working and the weather is supposed to be cooler, so reason number two is moot. And if he needs to adjust the size? He can take it off under my supervision.

Denial—true denial—seems to be an important part of this game. Denial to the point that makes me feel mean or even a little cruel. That’s the part that’s hard for me. I really am a pushover and if people present things in a reasonable way, I tend to easily agree. But now, I need to stand my ground. I am going to go hide the key. Will Ab come home from work, expecting to find it in its usual place? Will he be annoyed because he can’t take the CB off to shower? Will he say anything to me? Will he ask for, or even demand, that I give him the key? We’ll see.

I’ll keep you posted.

* * * * *

Just a quick update: we’ve achieved Masterlock. 🙂 The other night we were in the kitchen and I was admiring the CB—or maybe I was assessing the latest combination of rings and spacers—and I just opened up the WolfDog and took it off, slipped on the Masterlock and clicked it shut. Ab seemed a little surprised. He certainly wasn’t expecting me to change it, not after our discussion of weight and so on. I just smiled—didn’t say a word. The new key is on my nipple ring and the WolfDog is gone.

I’ll be updating my picture, too. The gold key is so much prettier!