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| Subject: Re: Early bedtimes | |
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Author: Lonagin |
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Date Posted: 03:36:32 04/22/16 Fri In reply to: mikki 's message, "Re: Early bedtimes" on 07:48:22 04/21/16 Thu Thank you, Mikki for the compliments. I guess I was lucky to have such a strict mother, but it sure didn't feel like it when I was growing up. You asked about my 'freedom' years, or 'unsupervised period' as you put it. It lasted pretty well through the three years I was in college. I attended a small liberal arts school in a town on the outskirts of the city. I took the usual general arts classes in sociology, psychology, philosophy, and the like, until finally, with the approval of my Mother and sister, settled into majoring in Feminism and Women's Studies, which were fairly new disciplines in those days. It was not that I had any great desire to take these studies, other than to please my Mother and sister, I had gotten to know a couple of girls who told me they would be majoring in Feminism and Women's Studies and encouraged me to enroll in the program too, so at least with me, it wouldn't be a totally all girl class, they said. It seemed to please them when I agreed to enroll with them and they told me maybe we could study together. I liked the prospect of getting to know these two girls better, who were already good friends with each other, and if I was lucky, really lucky, I thought, maybe, just maybe, I might not be the only student who would be graduating still a virgin. Alas, it was not to be, as the girls, who were fun and very good friends to me, were tuned into each other sexually and had no interest in a male in that way. Another lesson learned by the nice but naive young man I was. There were very few residence places available so I lived off campus in my own tiny bedsitter flat in a building with a number of other students. It did force me to learn to cook and clean for myself, although growing up with my Mother had certainly laid the ground work for that. While I could do housekeeping quite well, when motivated, I reveled in expressing my new freedom by allowing my room to become quite messy at times, matching many of my fellow students, especially the boys. However, on several occasions I had to mad scramble and quickly clean my flat to a spotless shine whenever I learned that my Mother was coming to visit me for the day. It was several hours drive there and back so Mother never stayed long, but more than long enough to inspect and criticize any housekeeping or other deficiencies she could find, and she always found some. The students on my floor, mostly the girls, never failed to note with curious amusement, the panicked way I would rush to thoroughly clean my usually messy flat as soon as I heard of my Mother's pending visit. Luckily, because of her busy job and the resulting limited time she had to spend with me, she always called to the landlady's phone, (I didn't have one...imagine that today!) to inform me of the time and date of her arrival so she was sure not to miss me. I was grateful for the warning. Because the landlady preferred to let to girls, better behaved she said, she somehow managed to skillfully skate around the laws and limit the number of boys in the building. I hadn't clued in at the time, but I think it was when my Mother noticed the greater number of girls to boys in the building, and especially on the floor I was to be on, that she enthusiastically informed the landlady she would sign the lease and agree to pay the rent on my behalf. The landlady seemed pleased with this arrangement as I think she recognized in my Mother a strong, no-nonsense woman who would be good to her word and keep her son in check and assure the protection of her property. The only two boys on my floor, besides me, lived in the rooms at the far end of the hall near the stairs, which meant the rooms at the opposite end of the hall around my flat were all occupied by girls. I didn't mind, thanks to my home life, I was pretty well used to being surrounded by girls and women. The boys mostly ignored me as somewhat of a geek, I suppose, and made no effort to befriend me. But over time, I got to know most of the girls, and they were generally friendly and nice to me in what I thought was a patronizing sort of way. They all seemed to have boyfriends of various commitment levels, and regarded me, I suspect, as a bit of a nerd, but the girls didn't seem to mind, like the boys did. As my friendship with the girls grew and they got to know me better, I became quite well liked and appreciated for my self-deprecating sense of humor and non-macho manner, and soon known as sensitive and caring and a very good listener. They saw me as someone they could open up to and share their inner feelings without being judged, dismissed or laughed at. A boy who wouldn't try to hit on them when they were in a vulnerable state. I sometimes thought about it...but always heard my Mother's stern, disapproving voice in my head and quickly changed the thought. The girls remarked on the refreshing deference and respect I seemed to have toward women. They came to accept me almost as one of them. As a result, I spent many evening in a crying and sobbing girl's flat, often with her attired in only bra and panties, comforting and offering a shoulder for her to pour out her heart over some upset she'd suffered, often about an insensitive boyfriend, and urging her to talk and cry it all out while I listened and sympathized. Among the girls on the floor, I became affectionately known as the boy with the lesbian girlfriends, most likely to remain a virgin. How did they know, about the girls from my class and the state of my sexuality, or lack thereof, I wondered. Girls just know these things, I concluded, and accepted their good natured ribbing over it. After observing on several occasions, how quickly and efficiently I could clean my flat to a spotless condition every time my Mother would visit, some of the the girls cajoled me into helping them keep their flats clean and tidy. Often going out on a Saturday afternoon and leaving me to clean their apartment. Because I could cook, they would get me to help them prepare a nice meal to impress some friends they were having over. I didn't really mind. I was rewarded by their gratitude and friendship and I valued that. And as a bonus, I was often invited to spend an evening watching a movie, albeit almost always an ultra girlie one, sometimes with two or three or more girls, but often just one girl, snuggling close to me on the sofa, sometimes sitting beside me comfortably in only bra and panties, telling me between commercials all about her latest boyfriend and how much she loves him. What's a guy to do, but enjoy the moment and make the best of it. And when the movie ends, promise to come tomorrow when she's out with her boyfriend and do her laundry and tidy her bedroom, accept her sisterly hugs, thank her, say goodnight, and return to your flat, still the sad little virgin you always were. At least I wasn't under my Mother's controlling ways anymore I comforted myself. I was enjoying my new independence, letting loose and expressing myself. Well, perhaps not in the way that many boys would do when living away from home. There were no drugs, wild sex, no sex at all actually, and only occasionally limited amount of alcohol. As much as I often resented it, my Mother's strict upbringing always prevented me from straying too far from the right path. I never wanted to face my Mother's wrath if I ever got in serious trouble with drugs or alcohol. I imagined never getting out of diapers and plastic pants for the rest of my life. However, I did have one weakness that I couldn't seem to shake...masturbation. Once I was away from my Mother's discipline, I became like a kid turned loose in a candy store, I couldn't control myself. I was surrounded by attractive girls but they all seemed to be taken. For me, there was not a girlfriend in sight. Masturbation became my escape and relief. My habit got increasingly chronic until I discovered the world of porn magazines available in back street adult bookstores. Then it got really bad. This was before internet porn, of course. I would purchase the magazines by the dozens and sneak them into my room and hide them in secret places. As the end of my final year approached and I needed to complete assignments and pass exams in order to graduate, my masturbation habit was taking over more and more of my study time. I was staying up reading porn and masturbating all night, getting little sleep, and was unable to concentrate on my classes and studies. My marks were slipping badly as I began to fail assignments or miss handing them in at all. I was in danger of loosing my year. I was drowning in self indulgence and hopelessly out of control. But I kept it all hidden and appeared fine to those around me. About this time, one of the girls next door to me had a friend visit her. I was introduced to the prettiest and smartest girl I had ever met. She was extremely intelligent, and though a year younger than me, she had advanced and accelerated through school until she now working on a Master's degree in business and economics from a big State University. I wasn't even close to being in her league with my little General Arts and Women's Studies undergraduate degree, which I was failing. And yet she was warm and unassuming, and really seemed to like me. She even showed a genuine interest in my life and interests. She was very impressed that a boy would major in Feminism and Women's Studies. I told her it was mostly because my Mother wanted it, and since she was paying for my school, I had to follow her wishes. 'Well, I think your Mother's a very wise woman', she told me. She asked my opinion on many things, including matters I had very little knowledge about, but it didn't seem to bother her, as she smiled warmly, listening to me blather on, and taking the time to gently correct me and guide me through a conversation about a particularly complicated subject. She praised my willingness to learn and my ability to try to grasp new things I didn't quite understand. I soon became enamored with this girl, and strangely, she with me. She was attractive, confident, and strong willed, and yet kind, sweet and gentle. After that first visit, she would come often and the more time we spent together the more we fell in love. I couldn't believe my luck had changed so drastically. Here was a girl that any boy would want by his side and she was in love with me. Even though we spent a lot of time together, she refused to have sex with me, telling me that she had her degree to attain and a career to pursue. She would not jeopardize that. She would wait to see if I was really serious about her, getting my own education, and deciding where I wanted to go in life. I understood, but was aching to make love to her, so my masturbation habit continued, getting worse even. Because she cared about me so much, she started to ask questions about my marks and my prospects for graduating. Eventually, she discovered how badly I was doing at school and set out to help me improve. She found out I was sleeping in and missing classes, failing to hand in assignments, and not studying. She demanded to know why this was happening asked if I still loved her. I told her I did with all my heart and meant it. She said she loved me too and that's why she had to find a way to help me. We talked and talked, with her getting closer to discovering the real reason with each question, and me trying desperately not to have to tell her my shameful secret. Eventually, she wore me down with her relentless but loving determination, and unable to lie to her...I loved her so much...I finally blurted out the truth and showed her my secret porn magazine stash. She was quite shocked and a little angry and disappointed that I had not come to her sooner with this 'disturbing' problem. I have to learn to trust her judgement, she said, that she knows what's best for me. I started to cry and she reached to hug me. As she comforted me, she smiled, 'I know how to fix this', she said, 'I have a girlfriend who knows about these sorts of things, I'll talk to her. It'll be alright.' she assured me. A few days later, she was back, smiling and confident. She told me to take a shower, and ordered me, to my dismay, to shave my pubic area, which I reluctantly did, and then come out and lay down on the bed. She had a series of various sizes of clear plastic rings and a small plastic tube. She fiddled about down there and chose the right one and placed it securely around my scrotum, attached it to the plastic tube that now contained my small flaccid penis, and closed the thing shut with a small lock. 'There,' she declared triumphantly, 'you're in a chastity device...and under my control until I say otherwise'. And in it I stayed until I graduated with less than spectacular, but still adequate enough, marks to get my degree. She demanded I continue to wear it until out wedding night. She wanted to marry a sweet little virgin, she insisted. It was difficult to wait, but I loved her so much, I didn't mind. [ Next Thread | Previous Thread | Next Message | Previous Message ] |
| Subject | Author | Date |
| Re: Early bedtimes | mikki (delighted) | 14:50:36 04/22/16 Fri |