09.21.14 Journal

During my work shift beginning Sept 9, somewhere in the middle of the night, I dropped onto the concrete floor the metal device I called my ‘crack pipe’,  which is a longish stainless steel e-cigarette, which caused a tiny wire inside it to break, rendering it inoperable.

Not having it available to me for the remainder of my shift was not a ‘big deal’.  Lately, my single biggest desire for inhaling nicotine occurs when I’m in my car, mostly when I’m driving, mostly when I’m heading to or from work, but also occurs to a lesser extent when I’m the passenger, or driving places other than work.

I headed home that morning, feeling some desire for nicotine intake, but made it home without actually doing something about it, such as stopping to purchase a disposable e-cig, or shudder possibly a pack of “real” cigarettes.

My days off passed uneventfully. 

I even worked an overtime day shift on Saturday, and went home, and went out for a Wedding Anniversary Eve dinner with my wife, as the next day was our one year wedding anniversary, I was scheduled to be at work at 14:00, so we could not plan to do much that day.

I woke up Sunday morning… and was feeling IBS-relating gastric distress, and wound up napping in my chair, and notifying my supervisor that I would be a bit late coming in.

I finally got up, around 1730 or so, and started getting ready.

I was feeling stressed, and annoyed with myself for being late. I was covered at work, so that was not an issue, but I was just annoyed with myself.

I had showered, was dressed and mostly ready to go.

And She said, “You are going to put on chastity?”

To describe the feelings that arose in my gut, in my chest....

When I feel anger, I feel it behind my solar plexus, and just about that, in my chest.

And I was feeling it.

It must have started with my own self-anger? Anger-at-self? Because I was running so late.  (Again, I was covered at work, it’s just a standard I hold myself to.)

So, I was already running late, and here, She was asking me (telling me?) to do something that would  a) take even MORE time, and b) made no logical sense.

We use chastity …

Correction.

She requests or orders chastity on me, and thus I use chastity … first and foremost, as a tool for the prevention of masturbation.

There’s a lesser reason that dates back to when we were in a non-sexual D/s relationship: that as a Dom, she enjoys holding that control over a male sub, and as a male sub, I enjoy giving up that control. 

But, since we’ve been in a sexual relationship, the primary purpose of locking me up has been to prevent me from masturbating, which, quite frankly, I’m quite capable of doing, oft times not even knowing that I’m doing it, until I’m, um, well under way.

She has told me repeatedly, do not think of lock-up as punishment.

And, I don’t.

I honestly do not want to masturbate while she remains eager and available to copulate, whenever it comes up.

However, I have forty years of practice in masturbating, most of that while within a sexual relationship with another woman, during which I preferred masturbation over having sex. 

It’s a habit that I want to break, but it has not been easy to do so.

I even started on a course of locking myself up, back when I was unattached, just to stop, or slow down, my habit of compulsive/obsessive masturbation, and when I got together with Her, we found it to be a mutually-enjoyed kink or fetish.

So:  currently, my use of chastity is to prevent masturbation, like when we are both at home, but I’m sleeping alone in my bed between work shifts, or She is out of town; with a possible exception of  Her telling me to lock it up, because maybe we’re going to a party or other  (so far, ‘other’ has not happened, but I’m allowing it’s possible), and She wants to ‘show off’ Her control of me.

So: She was asking / telling me to lock it up, just prior to me going to work.

That’s when the anger inside me began.

It was anger layered on the anger I was already feeling, at myself.

This new anger was based on:  What the hell?  Are you telling me to lock it up to prevent masturbation while I’m at work? Is that really a concern?

The discussion became an argument, and became heated, as best as I recall. 

Anger effects my short-term memory. I don’t remember details or conversation, but what I was feeling, at the time.

Anger, at myself, for running so late…

Anger, at Her for suggesting such a stupid thing.  (..what I thought, at the time).

I left the house, still feeling it.

And jonesing for nicotine.

I stopped for something… I coulda gotten an e-cigarette, but as an act of defiance, a way of striking back at Her in my anger, I bought a pack of real cigarettes.

I smoked 3 on the way to work, Sunday night.

3 more, on the way home Monday morning.

Monday morning, She casually noted the smell of cigarettes on me, which I either denied, or did not respond to.

Why did I deny it?  Because I don’t like to admit to it, I don’t like the feelings of failure associated with it, and if I can fool Her, maybe I can fool myself too.

I smoked 3 on the way to work Monday night, and 4 on the way home Tuesday morning.

Again, Tuesday morning, She mentioned the smell of cigarettes on me, which I denied, for the same, admittedly sucky, reasons.

I smoked 4 on the way to work Tuesday night, and 3 on the way home Wednesday morning, which finished the pack. 

And, I was tired and feeling quite guilty in my denials, and tired of my vain attempts to hide it from Her,  which up to this point included using two kinds of mouth wash, washing my hair with two kinds of shampoo, and washing my body with two or three kinds of body wash, and using a dropper to put drops of mouthwash in my nostrils, attempt to mask the odor coming out of my nose.

I went inside the house, to where She was laying on the bed, watching a movie.  I brought in the paddle that She had requested the night before I bring, and I dropped it, and the empty cigarette pack, on the bed, and I said, “I admit it. I bought this pack Sunday night on the way to work, and I finished it this morning.”

She was glad that I confessed to it.

She was un-glad that I had been lying about it, by denying it, the past couple mornings when She had inquired about it.

After due consideration, She came up with a list of Special Punishments.

NOT for the smoking, itself, but for lying about it when asked directly, and for it being a repeat offense, the same thing having occurred at other times in the past.

One punishment was to write an essay, talking about my feelings, talking about what was I thinking when I bought the cigarettes, and lied about smoking them.

This is THAT essay.