It was always going to happen.  I was always going to let it happen at some point, especially given the heady empowering temptation and experimentation of chastity, and also given the fact that I was home alone for the weekend.

On arriving at home at the end of a busy week of whatever the word is of not doing something, the blog was updated with a previously penned two entries, but chastity brought on a third entry in one day.  In self-imposed chastity, the urge came to be dressed and as the evening wore on, only a couple more hours were allowed to pass before the lingerie came back on again.

And it stayed on all weekend.  The first night saw a state of almost constant arousal, the erogenous zones being teased as the pressure forced flesh against metal repeatedly as chastity struck at full pelt.

The night-time hours were met with little sleep, dressed for bed in a lingerie outfit of choice, the state of arousal continuing, waking me from the sleep I did manage to have.   As the correct fitting of the cage had yet to be learned, there was a need to unlock, and recage from time to time, me wondering whether I had in fact ordered the right size after all.

I vowed to try a smaller size in the event I decided to order a second such item but for now, it was about getting used to this one.  With a necessity to be up very early in the morning to run an errand, I was awake before the alarm anyway as sexual energy continued to pour through my body, struggling to deal with this new voyage of sexual discovery, all that it offered and the feelings it created.

The energy used in merely getting me through the Saturday, coupled with the constant state of arousal to some extent, coupled with the necessary early start left me shattered by lunchtime, a need to sleep, but an urge not to and make best use of the day instead.

And so it went on.  I threw myself into watching some mundane television in the hope that it would take my mind of experiencing chastity for the first time, and it did indeed work to a degree.  But when it drew as close as possible to a semi-normal bedtime, I used the opportunity to turn in for the night, albeit changing from a bra, high waist suspender belt and see through g-string to a favourite red and black cami-suspender outfit to wear to bed and as it turned out, throughout the following day.

Still the eroticism and state of arousal powered on as I busied myself by day, attending to voluntary work remaining underdressed and caged, continuing to share the experiences on line.

Days later, two of the three keys that came with the cage were packaged up and sent to my keyholder, if nothing else, a symbolic acceptance of being in albeit partial chastity.

The beginning of that partial chastity now spans back more weeks than I can remember but numbering at least four.  Over most days of late, I have spent almost twelve hours a day in chastity and many of those hours in some sort of state of being underdressed in lingerie whilst at home alone or at work.

So with that period of chastity having elapsed, I have taken it upon myself to notify my keyholder when I am both caged again and released for the day with the sole key that I retain.  They never asked for such notification, nor have they chased on the rare occasion when I have not notified them – I have merely been praised when I have done so.  My life, lifestyle and commitments outside of my closeted activities do not allow for total ownership or indulgence in any other way, so the arrangement is a good fit as is the cage, which has since been supplemented by pink ribbon binding, recommended after a request was made by social media, the trial flat shoelaces consigned to the history books.

I have orgasmed only a handful (!) of times since putting myself into chastity.  A week into it, one morning, I reached a peak of needing to achieve what would be a ruined orgasm apparently.   I tried anal play but experimentation has only carried me close but not fully to orgasm.   One morning, I managed to establish a Skype session with my keyholder which had reached the point of failure anally.   However, within minutes, I had realised that the very small margin of space between the minimum and maximum extremes of the lock mechanism allowed enough room and jiggle space to somehow reach climax.

I re-established the Skype session and, asking what my keyholder had evidently done to me in my fit of sexual euphoria, without seeking an answer, eventually felt a huge urge as two rapid watery bursts of semen powered out like a hose reel jet, splattering in all directions – I’d never experienced anything like it sexually and I was somewhat taken aback.

A few days later, a further caged orgasm was achieved, but this time, with the semen more akin to a regular consistency, the inner psyche having come to terms with chastity and having overcome the first release and the period immediately after going into chastity.

Anal playtime has increased in regularity of late including on the first weekend of chastity, where such playtime just had to be experienced, the dildo being ridden and used in a variety of positions as exploration of one’s bi-sexual side was allowed to take precedence, going so far as posting a video of a 10 minute part of a total 45 minute bedroom session on a X-rated video website, my first ever posting of its type.

Weeks have drawn on, direct messages including explicit photos have been shared with my keyholder and posted on my social media presences, Skype and webcam site chats enquire about who it is that has caged me, request that I am released etc. but without success as I remain loyal to my albeit symbolic keyholder who I have confessed to, who asks who it is that makes these requests, but quickly accepts my honesty to them and refusal to others.  Some viewers relish in the fact that I am caged and it keeps them online whilst for others, it is clearly not their thing to see my restricted, particularly for those that have been used to seeing me free, released and at play over the years.

But here’s the thing – being in chastity avoids me falling into such low periods of guilt experienced after orgasm.  If I cannot reach orgasm because I restrict myself through chastity, I cannot feel that way in the aftermath, and am instead, arguably ready for the intimate moments that really matter.

There is a potentially dark side to chastity – prostate health.  I have been told on more than on occasion that it is good to release what is stored on a regular basis to keep the prostate healthy, so somehow, there is a part of me that seeks to achieve a balance between inner feelings, a need to avoid the overwhelming sense of guilt felt after dressing and orgasm,, prostate health and applying myself to the life everyone sees me in.

However, even though the onslaught of winter and ill health has got in the way, chastity has taken another turn within the last week…

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