Do you know what really bugs me about this time of year?
Well, lots of things actually.
But in terms of people’s aspirations it’s the way they free-wheel to the end of the year and write-off the last two or three weeks with the intention of starting afresh come January 1st.
There are two problems with that.
The first is they’re wasting a fair bit of time. If they coast for the last two weeks — and many do — then they’re actually wasting almost 4% of the year. As John’s business partner (as well as his wife), and privy to the “numbers”, I find that quite astounding and not a little scary.
As John pointed out the other day: Usain Bolt didn’t take it easy for the last 4 metres of his 100m in the Olympics — he was going all-out until he hit the tape.
The second problem is statistically New Year Resolutions last no more than a three weeks or so before they’re a bust. There are lots of reasons for this being so but I think the most important lesson to take from them is not to make them in the first place and instead knuckle down to changing whatever it is you want to change in your life the moment you decide it needs to change, rather than waiting until some arbitrary time and date.
So whenever anyone emails me, saying, in effect, “In the New Year I’m going to ask my wife for chastity”, my answer is always much the same: why wait?
It’s true there are some times when she’s likely to be more amenable to your bringing the subject up but those include any time she’s relaxed and relatively stress free — like a Saturday evening, say, especially if you go out of your way to make her life a little easier. See, a lot of men say they’ll become more helpful around the house if she locks him in chastity.
Well… how about you start helping her around the house before she locks you? Not only will you be showing her the benefits you’re promising and not just telling her about them, but you’re also going to be putting her in a better mood.
The bottom line is this: if you don’t take the time and make the effort to show her your chastity is going to be to her benefit as well as yours, then it’s not going to happen. Waiting until the “right time” and the “right opportunity” means you’re going to be waiting for a long time.
The men who have written to tell me of their successes (and there are hundreds of them) are the ones who decided what they wanted and then made their own opportunities by setting the scene and asking for what they wanted.
And then, there are the other kinds of emails.
Here’s one I received the other day:
Did it ever occur to you that your husbad (sic), who is most likely a doughy, back-and-shoulder-hair-clustered farm animal of your same ilk, became intrigued with male chastity to avoid physical contact with your hideous, taco meat smelling, brown tinted wizard sleeve?? I mean, EWWW!!
Please take me off your email list, for you are an absolutely revolting swine like whale creature who has no business forcing the metal image of your own subhuman physical sexuality by subjecting innocent researchers of this delicate and easily misunderstood world of male chastity, it’s (sic) practical and exciting applications, and how to embark upon the transition to achieve it. In short, a newb is greeted by the idea that even this woman who is as physically appealing as a boiling cauldron c diff tainted fecal matter, is the thing waiting as your reward for waiting for an orgasm.
You’re a mutant, Sarah. Not a sex guru.
(Shuttering at your picture)
This actually made me laugh out loud. It really was sent to me just as you’re seeing it now. I don’t often get emails and messages quite so sad, but this past week I’ve had two in quick succession. Because this very morning, yes Christmas Day, I get this:
you are a salesmen (sic). no more than a whore really. please remove me from your slut peddling.
Interesting points there.
First, have you ever noticed how inadequate the men are who call women “sluts” for being open and exploratory in their sexual behaviour? Their choice of words says far more about them than it does about us.
And secondly, this fellow calling me a “slut” is from Tennessee. I thought Southern men were brought up to be Gentlemen. I mean, just how sad is it this chap is browsing the ‘net on Christmas Eve looking at chastity sites and then sending women he’s never met rude and vituperative emails?
Small wonder he’s not in bed with his Beloved curling her toes with a spine-cracking orgasm while he remains deliciously denied. Or would that make her a “slut”?
But it’s really all water off a duck’s back. I’ve refrained from identifying these sad creatures publicly even though I’m perfectly entitled to, since the conditions under which they send me messages are quite clear. They simply don’t deserve the attention (and I suspect that’s really what they crave).
Anyhow, just to let you know in this time of cheer, happiness and goodwill… there are still some very, very sad and disturbed people out there.
I’ve had my soak, I’m well into my wine and I’m looking forward to my dinner in an hour or so.
So with that… I’m off to the kitchen for a refill and to check on that man of mine.