Indefinite stamina denial
I think at the heart of chastity, masturbation denial and male submission for us is denial of stamina.
It’s not about orgasms. They are more fun when they are infrequent and memorable. It’s not about enforcement because I can’t be trusted.
What my wife honestly found distasteful was my own “selfish” pride in my own cock’s girth, length, and - once upon a time - stamina. Acting entitled because of the physical aspects of my erection turned her off.
It really wasn’t that I got greedy, whining and bratty. Sure….That wasn’t pleasant… but it’s the dynamic of me wielding power that she never did like.
She first fell for me because I was eager, easy, and endless energy.
Chastity helps me control my masturbation. If I keep myself drained, I’m limp and lifeless. The spark, the vibrancy, the drooling precum, the fullness and frustration… it all makes her feel wonderful.
She always led, from when she first touched me.
I was grateful, and never pushed. We slept together for months before penetrative sex. I was grateful for everything. I was a good and gentle boy.
We meshed effortlessly. We’re lucky to have met.
When I slipped into wanting to have my cock worshipped and glorified, she was turned off. When I asked to regain my stamina, so I could fuck her again (for more than 20 seconds) she said absolutely not.
What’s most important is me staying vibrant. I love that word. I can feel my magic spot - that sensitive area underneath, behind my PA piercing - buzz and tingle. She prefers me sensitive, and grateful for her touch.
When I masturbate alone, I do become alone. Not because she’s upset… I am uninterested, and close to asexual, really, when I stay drained. It’s not sad. The self-given orgasms were serviceable sneezes to help me sleep. But, they weren’t good.
I’m more fun when I’m denied masturbation. The cage helps this.
She is comfortable teasing me when I’m caged, because doesn’t have any innate desire or craving to be penetrated.
The cage is a signal, not just a mechanical prevention.
I can repeat the details later, but to summarize: I have met many who appreciate me and my vulnerability and lack of power, control and stamina. I’ve been encouraged and enjoyed.
As I’m getting “back to normal” - living caged and loving it - I realize that it’s the lack of stamina that’s most important.
While “never again” and “permanence” rings in my brain, hits deeply, and presses my buttons… I think giving up expectations… no more than that… I think desiring and wanting to have little to no stamina is the healthiest and most realistic goal.
Yes. I do dream of fucking. The fantasies flash so quickly. Accepting, calmly and confidently, that I’m best kept “soft and gooey”… is good for me.
It was a kindness that my wife said I needed to let go of standard male tropes. I took it hard when she said that, and rejected my suggestion that we “mix things up” and let me fuck again.
I know I’m pleasing in my submission. My lack of power, control, and pride is refreshing and even delicious.
It’s ok. I can be her wobbly egg. Sunny side up, and cheerful. Over easy… so easy to break
I can cry. The frustration is real. The tantalization is intense. The desire doesn’t cease. But that’s the point. The frustration is her goal. She knows it’s a gift to keep me floating high from denial.
It’s ok. I’m better kept gooey, warm and soft and quivering. Moaning and gasping as she bites down. I’m most delicious this way.
