The Tyranny Of The Erection

As long as I can remember, I got erections. It felt good but never meant anything to me. My erect penis didn’t have any particular use. When I was nine years old, my friends told me about sex. I understood what to do with that hard penis but no idea what benefit it had for me beyond the idea that it might feel good. My friends were similarly ignorant.

When I was 11, a friend taught me how to jerk off. We had no concept of gay or straight sex. That first orgasm was amazing. I didn’t produce any semen. It felt great. I was hooked. I was incredibly naive. I had no idea that there was such a thing as interactive sex. Believe it or not, it didn’t occur to me that fucking was related to orgasms. I hadn’t seen a naked girl and, in my house, there was no porn.

Nevertheless, at last, I found a fun use for my hard penis. Rub it like a magic lamp and I got a giant blast of pleasure. Sex with my own hand was all I knew until my late teens. I went to a boys boarding school for my high school years. I didn’t date. I worked every summer. Sex with another person had to wait until I entered college.

My first girlfriend was as ignorant as me. We learned together. Unfortunately, her hymen was very thick and I couldn’t penetrate her. We did research and ended up using oral sex as a workaround. It was very satisfactory for both of us. I had bypassed the teen dating years that form many people’s understanding of sex.

Apparently the erection was an indicator that girls used to determine if things were “going too far.” Boys expected that if they got hard, their partner would “do something” about it. Failing to get him off would cause uncomfortable, blue balls. Girls generally believed this. If they didn’t want to do something with their date’s penis they were careful to avoid arousing him to the point of erection.

On the male side, we learned that we can cure an erection by masturbating. If a date didn’t result in ejaculation, jerking off when we got home could take care of it. Obviously it felt way better if the girl did it. We believed that if a girl made us get hard, she should cure the swelling. Apparently, girls bought into this and if they weren’t prepared for heavy petting or more, they restricted interaction to less arousing activities.

This may have made sense in the raging-hormone era of our teens, but it has no value as we age. Many married couples still subscribe to this. The entire concept of “Not tonight. I have a headache.” is based on the idea that if the wife arouses her husband, she has to have sex with him. A hard husband needs to be given an orgasm.

This isn’t true of the women. They have been trained to get sexual satisfaction by arousing their husbands or by masturbating. The men expect their wives to be aroused and give them sex when they are horny. It’s a subtle-but-important difference. Male sexual arousal is easy to detect. Our penises display our arousal. Women have much more subtle signals of heat.

This all boils down to the simple fact that interactive sex must end with male ejaculation. There is no such rule for the woman. Women’s lib has made us more aware of a woman’s needs, but the absolute rule is ejaculation. Female orgasm is a nice addition.

Male chastity (orgasm control) can change this in a very constructive way. When I have a chastity device locked on my penis, I can’t easily get off. The only sex available to me is what I can do for my partner. I’m not talking about the fantasies where the man is a sexual slave. This is just the normal, logical outcome of male frustration when locked in a chastity device.

Over time, both partners stop associating sexual activity with ejaculation. It’s obviously impossible for me to get off if I’m locked up. In our case, at a completely different time, Mrs. Lion would unlock me and get me off. Sex for her wasn’t involved. It was my turn to ejaculate. Similarly, I would be giving her oral sex with my penis in the chastity device. It was her turn.

Our view of sex was changed forever. My erection didn’t demand to be satisfied. Giving her an orgasm didn’t mean I got one. In fact, it never meant I got one. My sex time was separate at her convenience. It had nothing to do with dominance and submission. We learned that sex was better when only one of us was receiving. [Mrs. Lion — Actually, Lion learned this. I still subscribe to the mutual orgasm concept. Except that I don’t really care about sex anymore.]

Imagine how good this would have been in our teen years. Our dates could feel free to jerk us off if they wanted without worry about intercourse. We could ask them if they wanted an orgasm and give them one safely without them worrying about what they had to do for us. It’s amazing how much better sex is when the erection is no longer in charge.