I’ve read a goodly amount—too much even—about chastity devices. Should be used. Should not be used. This one is good. That one sucks. It’s a treat for him. It’s a punishment for him. Look, we’re all reasonably intelligent adults here. Part of the real magic in FemDom comes from the male willingly and voluntarily submitting to his woman. That includes voluntarily empowering her with authority over his sexual release. If a Domme had to seize that control and enforce it either with a CD or some sort of reprisal, then it would be meaningless to her. It would have no value. She wants him to give it to her as proof of his adoration for her, as proof of his trust in and respect for her authority. She wants to be his sole source of sexual gratification.

The way I see it, arguments over which CD is more secure or whether or not a CD should even be used, are mute. Come on guys, let’s face one simple fact: if a man wants to escape, he will. Goddess V has seen me figure creative approaches around a lot of challenges… using tools. Ever heard of tools that cut through steel let alone flimsy made in China plastic? One needn’t be a Houdini to figure a way out if that’s where ya wanna go. So if a CD is used in a FLR it really is just a symbol of his submission to her authority. And if a guy is on the honor system and wants to enjoy a private wank now and then without getting caught, make no mistake; he can do it. If he gets caught, it’s because he wanted to.

And all the talk about preventing erections! I don’t get it. So what if a guy wakes up with morning wood? It’s not sexual. So what if he has a wet dream? Again, it’s NOT sexual! It’s called physiology and it’s part of being a man. It has absolutely nothing to do with his sexual arousal. Therefore it does not reflect on his Domme’s lack of control over his sexual release. Don’t get me wrong. Goddess V is the sole object of my sexual desires. Because I love her, because I willingly submit to her authority, and because I trust her with that authority, I think she should have total control over my sexual release. Whether she wants me to wear a CD for a day or a week, or whether she wants me to wear it at all, makes little difference in the end. Like everything else, it’ll be whatever we find works for us. In the end, the only thing that matters is that our marriage is better—no, much better—in a FemDom relationship, and we are happier in our roles than we were previously.

Forever In Blue Jeans


I’m a blue jeans kinda guy. Even at the office with our casual business dress code, I’m fortunate to be able to wear them most of the time. It may surprise you to learn that one of my biggest concerns was whether or not I would still be able to wear jeans. I’d read that the CB3K is virtually undetectable under clothing, but you know how that goes. I discard half of what I read on the Internet as BS, and am usually suspicious of the other half. Happily, what I’d read is true. In a test run while Goddess V was at work and I was working at home, I wrangled myself into my new “personal security device,” then pulled on a pair of jeans, and not the relaxed fit kind either. I looked downward, half expecting to see an unnatural looking bulge that would advertise, “Hey every body, lookie here, wifey has my cock in a lock!”

Nothing. Nothing that anyone was likely to notice anyway. A long discerning look in a mirror convinced me of. What might be noticed could easily pass for a respectable package—not a bad impression to create if I do say so. I was still wearing it when Goddess V arrived home, and even she noticed nothing. Okay then, at least I won’t be having people gawk at me every time I leave the house. I’d already completed one other test: peeing. I’d read that many men report they can still stand to pee while wearing this particular model. Count me among them.

Gentlemen, if you think your little guy plays turtle in cold water, wait until you try to coax him into a CB3K. I won’t bore you will all the details. Suffice to say that putting this bad boy on for the first time is a challenge, especially considering how one needs to choose among various sized rings and spacers and locking pins. So far the second to largest base ring seems to work well for me along with the second to largest spacer (don’t let anyone tell you it doesn’t take a big set of gonads to be a submissive man.) I might add that I made a point of sharing this with the Goddess V after her wise-crack about needing the smallest ring. The unit is reasonably well engineered and so all the pieces fit together effectively. I’m not what you would call endowed like a horse, but even so, I had to fall back to regroup a time or two, then try again armed with baby oil plus a fair amount of poking and prodding to finally get the monster (sounds way more impressive than turtle, don’t ya think?) into his cage.

I spend two consecutive nights out of town each week and Goddess V was insistent that I not leave home without it. So before going to bed the night before leaving town, she watched me put IT on. She agreed that since we are still in an experimental stage, she would secure it with one of the locking plastic tabs instead of the lock. After I was neatly locked away, she lay back on the bed grinning, with a look on her face that I can best describe as being one of utter glee. “I LIKE it,” she said, “wish I had known about this thing years ago.” She put her hand in my crotch and patted my secure genitals and added, “You’ll be okay, honey.” Then she kissed me good night and turned out the light.



The vast majority of gizmos and contraptions, from the guillotine to the VegiMatic, were invented by men. This makes it a safe bet the CB3K was also invented by a man, and an ingenious one at that. It makes me wonder. Does a guy who doesn’t fish, never fished and has no desire to fish invent the “Pocket Fisherman?” Doubtful. So the industrious fellow who dreamed up THIS particular gizmo must have had a personal interest in the matter of male chastity. Not to put too fine a point on it, but the crazy fucker musta been lying awake nights thinking up ways to prevent a guy from diddling with his favorite play toy. Okay, maybe there’s an outside chance a group of militant, bra-burning feminists abducted a clever guy, spirited him away to an abandoned farm somewhere, then rode him like a pony around the barnyard and whipped his ass for 40 days and nights until he finally perfected the design for the CB3K. Anyone out there in cyberspace buying that?

Here’s something else that makes me wonder. Our freebie Stat Counter tells me this blog now averages close to 600 page loads each day. Yet most of what we write here draws few comments. Then I posted the preceding entry and wham, more comments than any other post. Dominant ladies are laughing and thinking, “Uhuh, you go, Goddess V.” And submissive men are, well, suffice to say they seem to think it was an excellent post. Hmmm. To tell you the truth, I debated over whether or not to write about IT. IT seemed to be maybe a little too personal. But considering how control of male orgasm is undeniably the keystone of FemDom, enforced male chastity, via use of what Goddess V now refers to as a Personal Security Device, seems to be a logical direction in which many FLRs eventually go. So in the end I decided that since Goddess V and I have become advocates of FemDom, Loving Female Authority and Wife-led Marriage, it would perhaps be somewhat of a disservice to exclude from our story this aspect of our relationship.

Reading the teeny-tiny sheet of instructions that is packed inside the gift box: I am suppose to choose from five differently sized hinged rings… not too tight but not too loose. Goddess V’s initial advice was, “That’s easy, honey. Go with the smallest.” Hmmm, her humor can be so amusing. Then choose among five spacers and three locking pins. All rightie-then. Apply a few dabs of baby oil or gel to help slip into the tube, being careful not to pinc….ouch! Damn! THAT's gonna leave a mark. If getting OUT of this gizmo is half as difficult as getting IN, my days of tweaking the little guy just to say "hello, thinking of you," are destined to become a fond memory.



…was way high on the list of things that scared the bejesus out me when I first began reading about FemDom. One that caused me to think two, three and four times before approaching my wife about loving female authority. And IT was something she quickly focused on when she first began reading about this lifestyle. She said IT appealed to her and that she thought I’d like IT too. Except for a couple of passing references here and there, that was pretty much the end of the discussion about IT until recently when the subject surfaced again. “Honey,” she said off-handedly, “you had to know IT was just a matter of time.”

“But I think…” Goddess V cut me off by interjecting, “That doesn’t matter, honey. All that matters is what I want. So take care of IT.” Seeing the pained look on my face she added, “Look, we’ll try IT out and see how IT goes. Just go ahead and order IT.” I obeyed. I could have balked further. I could have refused. I could even have spilled my ice tea on my keyboard to short-circuit my laptop. But I didn’t. I obeyed her—which Goddess V will say is proof enough that I actually want IT. I won’t deny there is a certain erotic fascination with IT, either that or morbid curiosity akin to what causes drivers to slow down and gawk when passing a traffic accident. BUT... the jury is still out on this one.

I ordered IT around 4:30 on a Friday afternoon from a site called Kept for Her. On Saturday I received an email saying IT had shipped. Damn, already? Don’t they take weekends off? Mid afternoon on Monday I could scarcely believe my eyes when I saw the mail truck stop out front of our house instead of at the community mailboxes further down the street. Nah. All the way from Indiana? Over a weekend? US Parcel Post? No way! But sure enough, a moment later our belligerent mail lady was steaming up our front walk with a small, innocuous looking package in hand—looking none too pleased I might add for having to make an additional stop.

She paused for a moment as she contemplated how to negotiate past rogue droplets from a sprinkler I had running in our front gardens. Double damn! I had repositioned the sprinkler away from our front walk only minutes before. Judging as how this lady had once returned a package as “refused” because it didn’t fit in our mailbox, I’m positive the sprinkler would have held her at bay. Even if she had winged the package in the direction of our door, it may have fallen behind a shrub where it would have remained hidden for God knows how long. I’da been saying, “Geez, Babe, I dunno why IT hasn’t come yet… you saw me place the order.”

[sigh] Ah, timing is everything, and as it happened, the Mail Nazi skirted the water obstacle and sallied forth. Neither rain nor sleet nor garden sprinklers on a hot July afternoon can keep HER from her appointed rounds. It’s all about attitude, right? I suspect that had she known the contents of the package she was delivering, she’d have gladly endured wet feet with a smug you-bout-to-learn-who's-boss smile on her face, instead of her usual doanchu-even-think-bout-fuckin-wit-me scowl. Indeed.

It’s amazing when you think about it. Somewhere, someone at some point in time was boxing up a collection of deviously engineered parts—an acrylic tube, different size rings and spacers, a small, brass padlock… especially, that damned Masterlock—and probably all the while thinking and chuckling: phew, some poor submissive bastard is gonna be wearing this gizmo. And so, with help from VISA, a Mac, cable high-speed Internet, the folks at Keptforher.com and the US Mail (thank you all very much), a genuine, one hundred and sixty-nine dollar CB3000 chastity device, has found its way to my door. Which means that yours truly is the submissive bastard who will be wearing IT.


I don’t deal with failure very well, particularly when it involves my own ability and talent. I failed in a home improvement project on Sunday, one that has been dragging on and on because we have been so busy outside our home on another project. Very frustrating. It came at the tail end of what could only be described as an exhausting weekend involving other projects that are turning out extremely well. This only served to make my DIY failure at home sting all the more. It put me in a belligerent and generally pissed-off mood, not at anyone in particular, well, yeah… at MYSELF. There was a time when Goddess V probably would have gotten mad at me for being in such a mood, but as it was, she dealt with it very well. She sympathized and then pretty much left me alone.

Lately I’ve been packing a lunch for Goddess V a few days a week when I am home. Sunday night she went to bed before I did and when she kissed me goodnight, I told her I’d pack her lunch, not to forget it in the morning. She replied that she knew I was tired and to forget about it. I sat up a while after she went to bed, thinking. At first I though Goddess V is getting smarter as she becomes more dominant. Then I realized (not for the first time I might add) that she’s been smart all along. She’s just getting smarter at handling me. I like to think that I also am getting smarter, for letting her do just that, even though it requires submitting to her authority. When I read and hear about so many women and men who cannot find happiness in a relationship with someone, either vanilla or otherwise, I realize again and again how fortunate I am.

I got off my tired ass and packed a lunch for Goddess V.

Our Dance


This is a peculiar lifestyle. And the deeper we delve into FemDom the more enigmatic it becomes. Perhaps that’s a misnomer because the basic premise behind FemDom is easy enough to describe: She dominates all aspects of a relationship while he submits to her authority and control. It’s the actual dynamic of D/s that is difficult to explain without having experienced it. I believe it was Elise Sutton who described it as a dance between the Domme and her sub. It’s surely that, and more.

It seems to me FemDom is like a dance in which both partners not only follow but also lead one another. The well-known Escher art pictured here comes to my mind. Two hands, one left and one right, each opposing halves of one equation, create and define one another. Each gives the other substance and cannot exist without the other. In a similar way, a Domme cannot exist without her submissive, nor he without her. And the more they interact, the better they define one another, the better each in turn is defined.

While I was out of town this week, Goddess V emailed to me a Couple’s Love Horoscope that she enjoys reading. It said: “Some events have changed your value system and how you see the world. This is no laughing matter. You realize that you – and your relationship – have what it takes to go the distance. Good for you!” I replied that had our values not changed, had we not agreed to pursue this lifestyle, it was likely that our relationship would not have what it takes to go the distance. Goddess V then responded that she was sure we would not be together. Today, though our FemDom relationship is still in its infancy, it has already helped shaped us into partners who compliment each other better than we had in our vanilla relationship. We were always best friends, and love was never an issue. Yet now there is a growing bond, a special intimacy between us that our friendship and love alone couldn’t seem to generate.

We attended a luau last weekend. We sat with a group of friends in a large circle of lawn chairs. Part of the time I sat across from Goddess V, watching her, observing her as she chatted with a lady friend. She wore a sarong style flowered dress. Summer humidity had gotten into her blonde hair making it curlier than usual as it fell to her shoulders. A lei of brightly colored flowers encircled her neck. Late afternoon sunlight filtered through high oaks that rustled in a river breeze, causing pools of dappled sunshine to dance about her. I was entirely enraptured and could scarcely take my eyes from her. Ever watch the movie “Somewhere in Time,” where playwrite, Richard Collier, discovers an old portrait of actress, Elise McKenna, in the museum room of the Grand Hotel? He is so enraptured with her beauty, he spends the night alone in the museum with her portrait, unable to bear the pain of leaving her presence. I sometimes feel that way and this was one of those times. I was captivated by the presence of my wife. My mouth chatted up with friends, but my mind was engaged in matters that had nothing to do with party pleasantries and everything to do with the Goddess V.

Then she smiled at me and winked as she often does. Goddess V held out her glass and called, “Oh slave boy, I need more wine.” She spoke in a light-hearted, convivial manner that others in our circle, I am sure, interpreted as nothing more than good natured ribbing between wife and husband. Her message however, as it was later when she instructed rather than asked me to fix her a plate of food, was clear to me. Publicly in front of friends, regardless of the party atmosphere in which we were having fun as any vanilla couple, my wife was reminding me of my submissive role in our relationship by asserting her female authority. I had no problem snapping-to, and we both got what we wanted.

This is part of our D/s dance together. Goddess V initially began dominating me when she understood that it made me feel submissive, which is what I needed. But it became more than simply pleasing me for the sake of it when she saw the effect it had on me, the effect it had on how she felt about herself, and when she experienced what her being in control did for our marriage. And so there became tangible benefits and pleasure in it for her. This causes her to dominate me more. The more she dominates me the more submissive I feel and the more I want (need) to submit to her. In this way, over time, we are defining for ourselves and each other our respective roles in our marriage. I in effect seduce the Domme within her, and she seduces the submissive within me.

We add new steps to the dance as we experience how our particular choreography enriches and improves our relationship. Where will it end and the choreography be complete? When one partner cannot negotiate a new step—for while we each fulfill vastly different roles, we are, first and foremost, partners in our marriage. And so our dance continues.

Submissive Buttons


I haven’t been able to write here as often I would like. I don’t have a lot of time for it right now because of work, our side business and all the other day to day things that need to be tended to. It takes me close to an hour just water all of our flowers. Every spring I say I won’t plant as many but what can I say. I love planting flowers and watching them grow. And the house looks so good when they are all in bloom. Hopefully toward the end of summer and into the fall I’ll be able to spend more time here. I really do want to promote this lifestyle and help other women who may be considering or struggling with it because I believe many marriages would be much happier through FemDom.

The relationship between VK and me has changed a great deal in the last two years. We’ve changed as individuals too. And I think it is largely due to this lifestyle. I always knew if I could have total control (almost anyway) my life would be so much better. It is. You see----it has changed me a lot. I have taken so much more responsibility for things in my life and that has made me feel so much better about me, which in turn helps us. So it is a win/win for us both.

My knight just wrote me an email where he said, “I have always known in my heart that I love you, but it seems as if I love you more as time goes on. I don't know if it is because of our FemDom relationship (it must be largely due to that because I have no other explanation for it), but I feel more together with you. I feel more like a team. Plus I feel more in touch and greater satisfaction with myself, despite my submissive role in our marriage. You were so right the other night when you said that I am not the same man you met nine years ago. All for the better.”

I can tell you that VK was a good man when I met him. But he just didn’t get it when it came to certain things that are important to me. He was my best friend, but he was sometimes too distant, a little too judgmental and snobbish and righteous, sometimes too selfish and rarely attentive enough to me as the woman he loves. [sigh] It took me this long to straighten his ass out to where he is finally a keeper. Still, he is a man. He needs direction. He needs discipline. He needs to be reminded daily (and sometimes not gently) that his role is to submit to my female authority. I am still learning to appreciate how a man needs to feel submissive and so wants to be dominated by a strong, sexual woman. The more she dominates him the more submissive he feels and the better a man, partner and friend he becomes. I’m still learning how this process works with MY man--- but the results I’ve seen so far sure work for me! Because… I AM A GODDESS!

Our challenge (and frustration) is how to work this into our lives more. People with demanding jobs, busy schedules and children at home know what I mean. But I decided over Fourth of July weekend I would MAKE time to push some of VK’s submissive buttons. While we were out on Friday night (me wearing a Hawaiian dress) I took off my panties right there in the cocktail lounge and stuffed them into VK’s pocket. (button pushed… plus he was the envy of every man who saw me do it) On Saturday morning, VK copped an attitude about something that I didn’t appreciate. At first I walked away annoyed, but then I thought, nope, I’ll deal with this right now. Fortunately the circumstances were right--- which they often aren’t in our house with grown kids around. VK was out on the deck when I opened the door and called, “Come in here right now.” (button) I was waiting in our bedroom, seated on our bed with paddle in hand, “Take your pants down.” (button) He balked and started to protest but I cut him off. “Get your naked ass over my knee and do it now.” He did as he was told and I clearly explained in between swats with my paddle why I was dissatisfied with his behavior. (button)

In our old relationship VK’s attitude and my annoyance would probably have lasted all day and accomplished nothing at all except ruin our weekend. But the spanking diffused tension immediately and left us both feeling satisfied (and his ass stinging). He pulled up his jeans, I hugged him, we kissed and we went on to work hard together all day, side by side. That night we went out again. During the drive to the restaurant I told him I just might start carrying his collar and leash in my purse so that its handy if he misbehaves while we are out (button). I wore a skirt, left my panties at home (button) and made sure I flashed him several times during the evening (more buttons). We danced that night and I whispered in his ear what a good man I think he is and how much I love him for everything he does for me (button). Later, we got in our hot tub. I teased him to arousal with my feet (button) and sat on his erection (button) but then I got myself off with a jet while he watched (button). He got no release.

It was a great day for ME and for VeezKnight. So was the rest of our weekend and holiday. VK is still talking about it--- not just the fun parts but also the hours and hours we worked our asses off together at a house we are renovating. This is largely because I pushed his submissive buttons and flaunted my sexuality. Amazing but true. A few weeks ago I instructed VK to make me a list of his submissive buttons--- not that I will necessarily entertain all of them, but just for my reference and consideration. Based on some of what he’s written here, none of them were much of a surprise. But now I know. I can tell you that in the future Goddess V will be pushing more of VeezKnight’s submissive buttons--- pushing them harder and more frequently--- and probably discovering a few he doesn’t know he has…yet. [grin]

Goddess V