Journals and blogs discussion

Having found the Vault to be the most informative section of this site, I plan to make it my new online hangout in the coming months.

So, who am I? My name is Kelli. I’m a woman in her 40s with degrees in economics and finance, currently working as an investment adviser for a Fortune 500 company. I have two children away at college. My hobbies include horseback riding, dining at upscale restaurants, enjoying fine wines, and occasionally partaking in some cannabis. People consider me straightforward both at home and professionally. This might be due to my New Jersey roots or perhaps the nature of managing large accounts. My husband Bill works as a supervisory paramedic. Outside our relationship, I would describe him as having an extreme Type A personality. Back in 2007, he confided that he suspected he was a sex addict due to his internet porn usage and excessive masturbation. He mentioned spending over $500 monthly on this habit, which was beginning to impact his job, personal life, and our marriage. Initially, I thought the solution was sending him to a treatment center specializing in sexual addiction; there are several good ones here in the southwest. But he insisted no—he wanted to try male chastity first. I was stunned! The man I loved, who fathered my two adored children and looked up to me, now wanted his dick locked up? What has this man become? I wondered. I promised to consider it but demanded a commitment: destroy all the porn or leave him. No more pornography ever again. He gave his word and asked if I’d like to watch him delete everything from our computers right then. Our computers? Yes, he explained that he had stored all his porn on a network drive used for backing up our home files. He formatted it in a way to become his secret library, accessible by any computer worldwide with the password. I agreed but insisted on seeing some of this collection first. Reluctantly, he obliged. From my computer, we navigated to the network drive, entered the password, and there before me were gigabytes of movies and photos neatly categorized in folders. One folder was labeled bondage, so I told him to open it. To my dismay, it contained video after video of men beating women. Then another folder called bi-stuff. You guessed it—men with men. Disgusting, I thought. I demanded he delete everything immediately! He selected the main folder and dragged it to the trash. For several hours, the system deleted file after file. I told him I needed some time alone to think. He retreated to his office and closed the door. Picking up the phone, I called my younger sister; I was shaking and in tears. She immediately asked what was wrong and if I was okay. I explained Bill’s request for me to lock him into a cage. She said her husband was out of town, so she would drive over to pick me up and suggested I spend the night at her place. After hanging up, I felt betrayed just wanting to escape anywhere Bill wasn’t. I texted Bill from my cell phone: I’m spending the night with my sister; do not call. I walked outside and waited for my little sister to rescue me. The 15-minute ride seemed like an eternity as I sat in a daze, trying to process what had just happened. Once at her house, she poured me wine and a fresh medicated brownie. An hour later, I was fast asleep on her couch. The next morning over breakfast, my sister and I talked it through. Being raised Irish Catholic ourselves, we initially viewed male chastity as something priests did or were supposed to do. So we turned to Google for more information. Early results showed sites about FEMDOM and forced sissy dynamics—things I didn’t want any part of. Then we found sites discussing female-led relationships (FLR), which felt much more comfortable. We learned that men with high-stress jobs are often vulnerable to porn addiction and excessive masturbation, and a committed FLR can help curb these issues. I reached out via email for guidance. A few hours later, I received a reply from a woman who understood my concerns and offered her help. She mentioned she had a close friend nearby whom we could meet for coffee. I accepted the offer.