Archive for August, 2010

49 days and counting.  Far longer than I’ve ever gone before.  She’s never come more, I’ve never come less.  A pleasurable delirium — or is it simply fulfillment for the first time? — enfolds us as we lay naked in bed.    My sense of self ignites and burns away a little more each day.  I’m stripping down beyond mere nakedness.

If you’ve ever fasted, you know what I mean.  Truths about food and the process of eating become clear after a few days of not eating.  When you voluntarily go without food, you see the day-to-day world with different eyes, your sense of time changes, meanings present themselves as if for the first time.  But those meanings have always been there, you just need to see them.  The cricketed man wonders how he never saw himself and the world this way before.

She lets me out of the cricket every night, because she loves penis, she needs penis.  That’s why I’m here.  That’s my place.

She really likes stroking me, teasing me, slapping me around.  It makes my cock stand straight up and rock hard.  That’s my place.

She loves sucking cock.  She sucks my cock every night, but I’m not allowed to come.  I have to have a cock that will spring into usefulness whenever she needs it.  After more than a month of chastity, let me assure you, it does.  It makes me happy and proud.  It gives me a sense of self.  It’s my place.

Most nights she needs penis inside her after she has sucked on it a while.  “Don’t come, just fuck me.”

After a while of fucking I usually literally beg her to lick her.  I feel as if I don’t lick her I’ll die.  I need my mouth and lips all over her pussy.  I’m in a fever of submissive desire.  If she peed in my mouth I’d drink it like a man out of the desert.

After she comes, she usually just rolls over and goes to sleep.  I lay there a while, content, before I drift off.  Every morning I put the cricket back on, without a thought.  It’s my place.

So we go where life leads us, at our own pace, all in good time.  We’ve got that; we’ve got time.

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Q for J

Shane 67 recently asked J a question via a comment:

“My wife is offended by the artificialness of the whole thing: ‘Why do you need [that thing] in order to give me [attention, love, affection]. Why can’t you [love, need me] just the way I am.’ J — do you ever feel that way?”

Here is her response, with my pictorial asides:

At the onset of a cricketed relationship, I assume every woman asks herself (or her partner) why he needs the cricket to intensify his desire, to treat her with such care and affection.  It seems so shallow, so gimmicky, so artificial.

Same thing crossed my mind. But when I considered the choice that had been made, my husband’s cricketed attentions felt completely real and honest.  In fact, like any act of love, the cricket is all about the decision.

Two years ago, on one particular morning, my husband commented that sex the previous night had been really good.  This was something I needed to hear at the time.  He said that he wanted to think of something to elevate our sexual relationship and make it very special.

It follows that a few months later when he happened upon the concept of male chastity, he was ready to make the decision.  My husband chose to wear the cricket.  He did it for us and for me—and, certainly, himself.  He wanted us to be more intimate and honest and unafraid.  He actually wanted to ache for me. He wanted us to be continually excited by each other.  He don’t know if he knew at the time that it would make us share a more equitable exchange.  But, that any man should want to put his cock into a locked device and trust me with its key in order to make our relationship more meaningful and sexually exuberant astonished me.  It also made me laugh.  There is something very sexy and very funny about the cricket.

The question of artificiality barely brushed my brain.  This man was offering himself to me in a way I had never expected and his vision of what it could be was extraordinary.  It was expansive.  He saw ahead but let us explore it slowly.  From this vantage, the question about whether it was a crutch seemed small and did not compare to the generosity of the gift.

But why a woman might ask this question and why a man might need the cricket to do what should be natural still seem like logical questions.

A woman is afraid the cricket is false or untrue and that without it, he does not love her.  (He does love her!  He has given her a key to his sexuality and its most basic definition  She just needs to experience the cricket for awhile to trust that it is the real thing.)

A man needs the cricket to stop satisfying himself in banal and meaningless ways which are unrelated to his partner.  (His penis has been sticking out in front of him his entire life and the ease with which he could fall into dumb habits is not hard to comprehend.)

I have always been aware that sex provides the oil to the engine of relationships.  It is the way to not be mad, the route to patience.  It encourages honesty and acceptance.  Sex has a great sense of humor.  It makes me laugh with sheer delight and shrug off what seems annoying or insurmountable without it.

When someone offers you a key to keep your sexual relationship intact, alive and flourishing, my advice is not to second guess it for long.


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words fail me

I haven’t ejaculated since July 5.   The next time I’ll be allowed to orgasm is October 13.  One hundred days.

I actually do have relevant words and thoughts associated to these pictures, but I’m just being lazy.  Today is the first day of my vacation, and I have promised myself to write much more.

Sixty one days to go.  I welcome the changes being worked upon me.

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how did you get here?

WordPress allows bloggers to see the search engines terms readers used to find your particular blog.  Over the past months I’ve made a list of the oddest ones. Apparently if you type these phrases into google you somehow wind up here.

is my penis normal?

empty bed painting

my love eunuch

secrets of a good head job

I want cunt

lick my tip cum

i won’t let my superiority

hot women cricketers

my penis hurts when I ejaculate

NEXT:  Your questions answered.  So ask some questions!  Email: cricketed@gmail.com

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a post from J

A couple times a reader has commented on my husband’s blog that they would like to hear something from J to inspire wives.  I decided to try.  I am not the writer my husband is.  But from the moment of he suggested it, the cricket has taken my breath away.

In Praise of the Cricket

To say that a cricket could change the world sounds like an odd and unrealistic flight of fancy.  (I think you know that a cricket is our name for a metal cage-like chastity device worn around the penis.)

Okay, with that in mind, imagine large populations rubbing their mental wings humming a sweet, transported belief in crickets.  Imagine hundreds of millions of marriages not lost or ship wrecked or mired in complaint and anger and the almost certainly unavoidable and completely natural disasters caused by kids and money and jobs and schedules.  Imagine everyone in the world thinking of each other all day long and falling into each other’s arms at night and talking about everything on equal planes of interest and reason and patience and good will and joyful passion.

How can two people be totally inaudible to each other one year and anticipating each other’s every word the next?  It could only be explained by a cricket.  It seems such a simple physical control by one person over another’s sexual completion.  Do not be fooled.  Its control is physical, of course, but that is maybe 1% of its power.  It can only be mutually undertaken.  It is entirely mental.  It changes thought and perception.  It creates communication and partnership and passion.

My husband says that it is natural that women are in control.  He says that women are more sensible and superior.  There is not one moment that I feel superior.  I have been given control—a whole reciprocal responsibility.  I have been catered to and I have been adored.  All this makes me feel is happy.  My cricketed husband has put such positive energy into our marriage, relationship, bond—none of these words seems quite right—(life!) that I can only contribute in kind.  I can only try to be fair and true and generous and understanding.  I feel loved in an extraordinary way.   I think for both of us, everything feels easier.  (Not to mention, extremely erotic.)

The cricket has made me know my husband better.  I have found that everything I did not know about my husband is much more interesting than what I knew.  Deeper, everything that he thought he should hide about himself, when revealed, became transparent and opened a beautiful view into him and really us both.

I do love having control of my husband’s orgasm.  We have come to the point where cricket on or off, it is the same.  He will only come or touch himself with my permission.  But he finds the cricket reassuring.  I find it incredibly beautiful and it arouses us both.  For him being aroused has become almost more pleasurable than coming.  But coming for him (on far flung pre-decided dates) is spectacular.  We make love and he brings me to orgasm daily, unless I am not in the mood, or he is too tired—now rare occurrences.

I am not sorry we waited until now to figure this out.  But if you are making choices, my advice is that the cricket is the best way to cultivate a truer marriage.

Clarification:  we do not claim to have anything figured out.   We are exploring.  But in the cricket we have embarked.


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