felere The beginning: A Journey of Submission

**The beginning My longing to be dominated stretches back to my childhood days. I recall playing with neighborhood kids, building huts from storage racks and weaving stories around them. I managed to persuade the others to lock me inside a small box. Was it sexual? Not in the adult sense. It was driven by desire—a clear wish to be dominated. As a teenager, I fantasized about being imprisoned by a woman who locked me to her vagina with my tongue. Even now, I love performing oral on my wife; it fulfills that dream. Our marriage has been largely vanilla over our 20+ years together. For the most part, we’ve had a good sex life too. Yet, my fantasies and desires persisted. One memory stands out: standing in the bedroom, discussing submission, she suggested I kneel for her in the laundry basket. I don’t recall exactly how it ended, but the impression was lasting. Years later, I wrote two letters expressing this desire for submission. She read them and set them aside. Reaching 50, I decided against continuing as before. I didn’t want to grow old with my lady in the same routine. It wasn’t bad, just not enough. I craved more love, passion, and vitality in our relationship. A key step was reading Sue Johnson’s Hold Me Tight. Finally, I admitted it is okay not to be fully independent—it’s a myth that everyone must stand alone. We all need attachment to someone we love. My defenses could drop. Early on, our relationship had severe ups and downs, breaking up and starting again. I remember one day after a breakup, kneeling for her kiss. I surrendered my inability to be entirely self-reliant, viewing it as a burden for years because I thought I failed at independence. But Sue Johnson taught me that surrendering is not failure; it’s meeting a basic need that opens the door to mutual vulnerability. So I opened up: sharing my dreams, wishes, and love with her. I revealed my desire to be under her spell. I wanted to wear a cockring since wedding rings irritate my fingers during hand jobs. A ring around my cock felt right. I told her I had ordered one and asked if she could keep the key. We had time before it arrived to adjust to the idea, allowing me to wear it while handing over the key on our wedding day. It felt like heaven; high spirits prevailed. Of course, I’d said she would be in charge. She wanted to go to a fashion show and didn’t dare ask until now.

If you want to introduce chastity to your wife, a cockring is often a good alternative to a cage. It’s just a ring… smaller, and your private parts remain visible. Compared with a cage, you still look like mister wonderful. My wife is quite compliant, so when I suggested the ring, it wasn’t too big a step for her. On the first day, walking around felt like heaven in my body; brain chemicals made me float all day. But bumps appeared along the way. The biggest disappointment came early: while outside and busy, the ring suddenly dropped out of my trousers. My illusion of being locked up shattered immediately. Naturally, I ordered a smaller one with less inclination to fall, though it could still happen. The clashes in our relationship proved far more difficult. Following online fantasies, I discovered that internet ideals don’t always match reality. Much of what you find online is fantasy rather than reality-proof—trash for actual chastity lifestyle if taken literally. Without other information, I dreamed my ever-compliant wife would take control. But she didn’t really. I asked her to state her wants; I promised to listen and comply. Yet it wasn’t suitable for her routine. So often, nothing happened. When it did occur, I either wasn’t prepared or it didn’t work out well. For instance, my wife wanted us to go to bed at the same time. We tried this, but I need two hours less sleep than she does. She slept while I lay awake for hours—no fun, no interaction. We eventually dropped that habit. Other crashes hurt when topics arose where I felt neglected. A small snake hides in my wish to comply: simultaneously wanting her attention for what matters to me. The simple fact is I am not a slave; we live a normal life together all day long. These clashes stung deeply. Several times, I walked out of the house wanting to throw away the ring but didn’t. Each time, that inner desire pushed forward again. We had positive experiences too. For me, the feeling of walking in heaven was primary—the idea of enclosure and surrendering felt sexy and cozy. On her side, wearing the ring gave my wife more internal space to suggest things she wanted to do—a great gain for her freedom. We went shopping, attended fashion shows, took holidays and trips centered on places she chose. Hard times mixed with good ones. Wanting to continue deeper, one day while she lay in the bathtub, I suggested buying a complete chastity device (a cage). Used to both rings and my kinks, she agreed.

Where did you go Felere? I was enjoying reading about your journey!

One of the most regular experiences I’ve found is that wearing a chastity device drives my brain slightly mad. For example, initially I waited for my wife to give orders. She didn’t. So I kept waiting. When the device was off, I waited for her instruction to put it back on; again, she didn’t, unless I pressured her enough so she knew where I aimed. My expectations focused heavily on her making decisions as I wished. In reality, she wasn’t particularly interested nor possessed by the idea of chastising me. She went along only when demanded—good luck that I appreciated. It took time to accept this fact and stop waiting for her decision-making. The forum helped me realize an inescapable device is hardly possible. My private parts shrink and grow, allowing opportunities to sneak out. Trying different models revealed each has failures. With sensitive skin, I couldn’t stand the CB6000 or any too-tight devices long-term. Plus, I dislike smelling bad. So I accommodated: it’s not my ideal fantasy, but practical. Besides, I choose to be in the device; why must it be unbreakable? I like holding the key and being restrained. Rest is governed by honor since I wanted this from the start. Especially after time without the device, when putting it back on, my brain goes wild. Wishes and dreams surface that seem unrealistic days later but run through my head convincedly—ready to make extraordinary sacrifices for my wife. When we started orgasm denial, I was ready to accept periods under three months. Four or five weeks seemed great initially. From day 12 onward, though, I knew I couldn’t endure it so long. Thankfully, my wife proved more realistic regarding my needs.