- Posts
- 8
- Joined
- Jan 1970
I’ve decided to transfer the thread above into a journal since I’ll likely be writing quite a bit, and this seems like the better spot for my daily logs.
While kneeling before my wife, massaging her legs and feet, I asked, “Please may I unlock myself so I can clean?” She gave me that look—the one that says ‘you’re up to something’—and wagged her finger. “Oh no. You’ll be up there fiddling with yourself.” “I won’t, I promise. I just need to get it cleaned; it’s been a while since I did it properly.” “Mmmm, okay. But I’ll be watching.”
As she went to retrieve the key from its hiding spot, I stayed with that feeling of having asked my Wife for the first time if I could unlock my penis from its cage just to clean. It’s a humbling and emasculating moment, though not the most intense either way that I’ve ever experienced.
After washing both the device and myself while she checked on me periodically, I put it back on with a smaller base ring—a size I’m so happy to finally fit after such a short time. I was slightly worried about security, but after giving this new ring a hard tug once attached, I feel as secure as can be, stuck in there like a Chinese finger trap.