A word that once learned is forever etched into a chastity enthusiasts heart. From the moment of our introduction, I’d found the thought of being locked for 31 days to be as equally deliciously terrifying as it was intriguing.
To be clear, in it’s purest form it entails the complete and total denial of ones manhood and all of it’s magnificent pleasures.
In the beginning, on Oct 1rst those were only words.
Our chastity play has evolved over the last few years since we started. A few days here, graduating to a week or two there, interspersed with regular playtime and plenty of happy endings. 17 days was the record to beat and then we met our first bull.
Almost a year later locked 24/7 and I thought I knew what it meant to have lost control of my most prized possession. Sure, we still enjoyed playtime but there was no ‘free’ play time for me. I’d been put down hard (no pun intended) into my place.
For the first time in my life, I never had a say in when I could be erect, let alone have a big-O, and most certainly could not masturbate.
So when my darling wife told me, with a twinkle in her eye, that we were doing Loctober this year though my heart skipped in excited trepidation, I felt I was ready.
So what is Loctober then?
For me in the beginning it was just the knowledge that I was in for a long haul. So, feeling that initial fear, for real in your gut that visceral twinge of fear of the unknown. She was taking me into uncharted territory. So self assured about it, so matter of fact, and if I truly wanted to play in this lifestyle with her, then I was along for the ride. Assumed, just as it was assumed that it was perfectly natural for her to arrange a date or two keep her satisfied while I was kept under lock and key.
One would have thought being cuckolded on Day 13 would have put me over the edge but not quite. It was an amazing hot experience, casually dressed with cage on under my clothes and sipping on a cold beer while watching another man gave my wife what I was denied. If he only knew the whole story! At the time it put me well into my sub-space but I’d no idea what the month still had in store for me.
When she’d first mentioned her plans for the month, I could picture those mornings alone in the spare bedroom, darkened and trying to sleep after a night shift. The relentless want of simply having an erection, primal senses reacting to the knowledge She was close by. Warm, wet, Her.
I guess foreshadowing is a bitch ‘cuz see on day 20, I almost lost my mind. Waking that early morning knowing that the end was so far away that all I could do was endure, did nothing to ease my desperate need for release. The pent-up energy making me want to scream but I couldn’t breath. All the grinding and stifled moaning, curling into a ball and clenching my legs together so I could hump the cage between them in pathetic frustration, did nothing to bring relief.
I want to pause for a moment and draw focus to that last sad bit, as embarrassing as it all is. Before this month I had thought I knew what suffering was. That was until the moment I felt myself slipping away on the chaotic winds of agonizing sexual despair. It’s power overwhelming me and causing me to momentarily lose my grip as it dragged me away. Only in the last moment, pulling myself from it’s clutches to grasp hold of the hope for the end as distant as it seemed did I gain true understanding. Of myself, my limits, and my strengths.
I think that was the peak, and I can’t begin to tell you how thankful I am that it’s behind me!
The Mrs researching PA piercings, our super sexy conversations about how it was ‘OK to live our life the way that worked for us’, the super charged physical connection as we lay together in bed touching, loving, being. They have all been fantastically wonderful moments and I struggle to express the exuberant joy in their memory I’ll be forever left with when this is over.
I’d thought I knew what it was to ‘feel’ her as I held her, but as day turned to night and then to endless day it became so much more. The heat from her loins as I pressed my nub into her naked bottom as we lay spooning would ignite an uncontrollable animal hunger in me.
The smooth softness of her skin yielding willingly to my reverent touch, my fingers quivering with barely contained desperation, trying to be ‘cool’ and pretend the elephant was not in the room, was perhaps the most intense physical connection we’ve ever shared.
Quiet soft sounds, rustling sheets, warm skin against skin, muscles tensing, together.
The burning need in me quenched in the fires of her release. Her stiffening, the soft moan, the tremble and the gasp as she found inner Nirvana, the transference from our heads to our toes was encompassing and complete.
As this month comes to an end so does an epic journey that until I’d done it, I had no idea I was born to make. I’m still the same person and yet I’ve been forever changed. I’ve walked the walk as they say. That I’ve been blessed to have someone make this journey possible and then take my hand and join me, leaves me speechless. I was never alone, She was always there. In my darkest moments I had only to picture her and the key she so lovingly held.
The end draws nigh, and I know not what the future holds but the one thing I do know is I have no regrets. I’m not just proud of myself, I’m proud of what we have achieved together.
I am humbled by this beautiful and amazing woman I share my life with, and all her wisdom, her love, and her wild carefree mischievous spirit. That my being locked and denied brings us the pleasures in life we enjoy, well that’s for us. Who knows, maybe it is for you too. What are YOU doing next October?