Sunday, January 15, 2012

Brain Chemistry

HAPPY NEW YEAR, readers.

A couple of days after my last post I had a nocturnal ball emptying.  I’ve described these before so I won’t dwell on this except to say that as it was preceded by lots of weird dream imagery of long soft hair, buses, and unattainable goddesses teasing and tormenting my cock in novel and amusing ways, it was clearly triggered by reliving the torment of Goddess’s top agent.  The orgasm itself was, as ever, violent and uncomfortable.

I’ve also had several nocturnal awakenings which have seemed not to involve my cock at all.  Instead I’ve woken up to feel my balls being uncomfortably, mounting to painfully, squeezed.  This must have involved my cock erecting to put pressure on the balls but without producing any of the usual sensations from the head of my cock, just tormented balls.  And as ever while this sort of thing is going on I know precisely who is doing this to me.  I’m being remotely tormented by Goddess Valentine who is thousands of miles away and almost certainly not thinking about me at all.  Even so, it's still a wonderful feeling.

Chastity, especially prolonged chastity, makes you acutely aware of whatever it is that pushes your buttons.  I’m highly sensitised to the slightest thing now.  Well, I have been for a long time now. That’s what drives this obsession with long soft hair.  I just can’t help noticing it.  Or beautiful girls.  My brain will spot a beautiful girl or a girl with long soft hair in a crowd at half a mile!  The effect they have on my chastity depends on the circumstances at the time but they always produce the same deep-seated emotional ache of longing.  I suppose it’s to do with brain chemistry.  Given the right stimulus the brain dumps chemicals into the bloodstream to trigger specific responses.  This is what makes it so easy for girls to manipulate us.  I imagine that in my case, because they never produce results, chemicals are being dumped into my blood in industrial quantities accompanied by a lot of indignant sermonising about my responsibilities towards the procreation of the species.  Perhaps that explains the curious experience I had at work this week.

I’m currently working in what is otherwise a disused office doing computer work with a female member of my staff.  It’s a fair sized room with only the two of us in it.  Where I’m sitting, which is dictated by where the remaining computers are plugged in, she is off behind me and around a corner; unless I get up I can’t see her.  About mid-morning in the middle of the week I felt myself suddenly acutely aware that she was there, only a few feet away, and that there was only the two of us in the room.  And that she was wearing her blue sweater.  Accompanying this awareness was an aching in my balls.  What we’re doing requires concentration so while I’m doing it everything else is pretty much zoned out.  I went on working with the awareness of her still at the back of my mind.  The awareness persisted and was nagging at me constantly.  It was impossible not to be know she was there.  The odd thing is that I hadn’t been, and still wasn’t, daydreaming about her or fantasising about her in any way.  I wasn’t consciously thinking about her at all.  But I knew she was there, a few feet away, in her blue sweater.

Why her blue sweater was so important I’ve no idea.  I have a fetish for girls in soft sweaters but there’s nothing special about this blue one, yet I was acutely conscious that she was wearing it.  The ache in my balls got progressively worse although it somehow never communicated itself to my cock.  I went on working but the fact of her presence went on relentlessly nagging at the back of my mind as if there was something I’d forgotten to do.  My balls went on aching.  I wanted to cum.  She went on being there, a few feet away, and went on wearing her blue sweater.

This squirming physical frustration, with a background hum of emotional longing and frustration, went on for half an hour until I suppose the chemical factory in my brain exhausted its stocks of whatever it was it had been manufacturing and gave up on its producing any result.  While it was going on it was really distracting.

This was a couple of days after my nocturnal ball-emptying.  Things always seem to happen after these events.

I couldn't find a picture to represent the blue sweater but she does have one like this.