Why Do I Crave Frustration?

We are at the seashore for the weekend. With no Internet or cell phone service it is a welcome respite from the worries that plague us. We can hear the ocean as we drift off to sleep. Unlike our native East Coast beaches, Northwestern beaches are usually cool and cloudy. The prevailing westerly winds blow cool air and clouds in from the Pacific. The lion weather report is a bit cloudy as well. The cumulative horniness raises my impatience and restlessness each evening. I am anxious for the nightly play session. I know there is a long wait before I actually get to orgasm, but the nightly teasing raises my hope and sexual interest. I wait impatiently for Mrs. Lion to begin teasing me.

It may seem odd. After all, I know that I will just be more frustrated when she is finished. But I crave her touch and the intense arousal of edging. I also know that if she doesn’t play with me, my interest in the long awaited orgasm will fade. It won’t disappear but it will move into the background. Logically, knowing that I will be frustrated day after day, you would think that I would want to postpone or avoid the expert sexual teasing my lioness provides. When it comes to sex, we males, at least this one, craves the very activities that makes our waiting even harder to endure. I can’t claim I am a very logical lion. I impatiently crave the very thing that makes my wait more difficult.

Each time I think about this, I mentally shake my head in disbelief. What do women think of us? Am I truly a creature so sexually driven that I am the instrument of my own sexual torture? The simple fact is, I am. Males of all species have a strong, instinctive drive to ejaculate. Of course, survival of the species requires that we ejaculate in the vicinity of eggs that we can fertilize. However, humans possess the ability to think abstractly and act according to those thoughts. I think that sex is one of the most fertile fields for this abstraction.

Everything from my brain to my endocrine system drives me in pursuit of that biological imperative: ejaculation. My very human ability to abstract this primal drive, has refocused me on working as hard to get edged as I would to ejaculate, if permitted. Of course, other than my sexual focus driving me to be more frustrated, my desire to feel Mrs. Lion’s control, submit sexually, reinforces my complicity in my own sexual demise.

You may be wondering where the chastity device fits into all this. I think it’s the shiny bit that captures my sexual attention at the same time it reinforces Mrs. Lion’s control. It helps condition me so that I essentially lose the ability to sexually please myself. Yes, I can still jerk off, but I no longer want to. This change ties the bow on my sexuality. What started out as an interesting exercise in sexual arousal and frustration ends up as a voluntary loss of the ability to enjoy ejaculation unless provided by my keyholder.

Some men who engage in enforced chastity have keyholders who have little or no interest in providing them with orgasms. The women who are smart enough to recognize that they are conditioning their partners, provide a gradual reduction in orgasms for their males. The guys, like me, transfer their ability to ejaculate to their partners. The keyholders who aren’t very interested in providing orgasms will eventually train their partners to accept no sexual stimulation and orgasms. These men not only accept their loss of sexual stimulation and ejaculation, the support it and claim they prefer abstinence to being sexually active.

I’m lucky. Mrs. Lion enjoys giving me orgasms. My waits are designed to support my feelings of being controlled. I don’t think either of us planned enforced chastity as a form of deep conditioning. We started this because I wanted to experience sexual control. Over time it has become an important tool to increase our sexual intimacy. We both consider it as essential to our marriage. At times like this, when my wait feels endless, instead of feeling grumbly and sad, I feel anticipation for that distant date. OK, it isn’t that distant, but to me it feels like I am a kid waiting for his birthday to finally come. In a little over a week it won’t be my birthday, but I will have something to celebrate.

What do you think?