mathematick:

Day 6: Rebirth

Apologies for the posting hiatus, but not too long after day 5, my priorities were slightly rearranged.  I’m writing this post now remembering back on the time after that first ruined orgasm.  I remember he asked me immediately afterwards, “what’s wrong?” – it was a question to which he already knew the answer, I realize now.  But I can’t honestly say whether or not I realized it at the time.  I told him how frustrating cumming without touchingly dick had been.  Seeing the torrent of thick white spunk flooding onto my hands and body, yet feeling nothing but a numbness in my dick.  I had been disassociated with my cock for that moment.   He told me he could “help” – I had no clue what that meant.  Then he asked me if I trusted him, to which my immediate response was “No”.  He laughed at that and said, he was going to help anyway.  I responded with a quick smile that must have indicated I was open to his offer, after all I still had more than a week to go.

With that he grabbed my underwear and, in one swoop, he expertly wiped up the puddle of cum I had left on my leg.  Then he told me to open my mouth.  I have no idea why I did, but I did.  Then he put that shit in my mouth and told me to suck it off, which i did – in a daze – still, no idea why.   Then he told me that the next week and half will go easier if I accept the situation, instead of fighting it. Submit – was the word he used actually.  The cum taste in my mouth lingered as l heard these words.  I removed the undies and wiped at my tongue.  But it was pretense.  For some reason this time – unique to all my other prior experiences – the taste of cum was pleasant to my palette.  I didn’t dwell on the thought.  I begged him to unlock me.  He told me he didn’t even have the key on him, and then he went home.

I took the next day to think about things.

It was clear, I still needed sex, erection or not.  But it wasn’t going to work the same way in chastity.  I remember rubbing at the various holes in my chastity device a lot that day, trying to find a sensation as close to rubbing the underside of my dick as possible, but nothing was doing the trick.  Again I tried pumping the whole device, and I would start to get a little hard, painfully so.  The top of my cock now had an ongoing dull ache from my erections being forced down.  I knew I could probably build up to another orgasm, but something inside me kept stopping just short.  I didn’t want to feel another ruined orgasm.  It was terrifying to me.  All the mess and none of the glory.  What was the point?  Then I remembered the weird cum tasting ceremony from the day before and suddenly I had a bit of an epiphany: this could just be a temporary transition from output to input.  

It felt scientific, worth an experiment. 

I needed a cock to suck.  I debated for a moment whether I should call my key holder or just find someone else (Grindr).   But I kept coming back to the fact that I had no desire to explain the situation in my pants to a stranger, in person.  I could only imagine that conversation.

“Hey before we get started, friend… What was once a raging all-night rock-hard concert of fuck in between my legs is now best described as an awkward tupperware party with a padlock…Can I get you a beer?”

Needless to say, I ditched that idea and just went to his house, I think he was expecting me.  

Upon entry he told me to take my clothes off.  He told me I couldn’t wear clothes in his house anymore.  I argued that it was cold in here, but for some reason I made this argument while removing all of my clothes.  The conversational speech-center of my brain had not yet come to grips with what my body had figured out hours ago:  When one’s dick is locked up, one is officially in the business of pleasing others, despite one’s own discomfort.

He was sitting in an arm chair, legs slightly apart, watching me.  I walked over, knelt down, and opened his pants to get what I had come for: Research.

I sucked him like I wished I could be sucked.  I wasn’t waiting for my turn anymore – his turn, was my turn.  I made it last, I started gentle, too gentle which almost made him cum early.  Then I grew more aggressive and started deep throating, nearly gagged because I got into it too much.  He didn’t even warn me when he finally came, usually guys always warned me.  But then he didn’t have to anymore.  He held the back of my head as he shot his load in my mouth.  I moaned vicariously.  He then pulled out and let his dick flop on my face.  I laid my head on his left leg – still positioned in between his legs while he recovered.  The cum was still in my mouth.  I couldn’t bring myself swallow at first, I wanted the taste to remain.  Once I finally did I felt relieved, for the first time in 6 days.

Chaste boy makes a break through in finding relief in other places. What a great write-up, maybe it’ll inspire other frustrated chaste boys. Well, “frustrated” and “chaste” is kind of redundant isn’t it?