Questions I Never Thought I’d Ask…

I have come to realize something important:  BDSM has made me ask questions I never thought I’d need to ask.  The most important off which right now is, “How exactly does one go shopping for a bit?” 

I have no clue.  I mean, I imagine I’d have to measure my head and my jaw or something.  Or perhaps they’re one size fits all?  But the fact is, I want a bit.  Or even — to discard yet another one of the rules my wife and I came up with as we began this little adventure — a ball-gag.  I don’t even know how a ball gag works, but a quick glance at various websites reveals that there are actually “training ball-gags,” so maybe I should start there. 

I say ball-gag because, going back to the Big Scare, ball-gags were symbolic of all of the creepy offputtingness of BDSM for me.  They look uncomfortable.  There’s drool involved.  The rubber of the balls I’d seen seemed aesthetically weird to me, much like the weird, nubbed pink plastic used for a lot of sex toys which always struck me as…kind of nasty.  And yet, there’s one user on a web-blog I’ve seen who had a picture of herself wearing a ball-gag, and I thought, “She looks kind of hot.”  And then, when I go to look at them in an online catalog to sate my curiosity, I see them in all sorts of colors.

Colors are neat, because they take something “imposing and scary” and turn it into “friendly and happy.”  My wife, as I have discussed extensively, loves pegging me, and I love to be pegged.  She let me pick out the strap-on she uses, because she felt like since it was going in my ass, and my mouth, I should be comfortable with it.  So I chose this cute thing, primarily because it’s a pleasing shade of purple.  I like purple, and somehow, the color made the idea of a 7 1/2 inch dildo going into my (until then virgin) anus a lot more acceptable.  We even, when we’re not “in-character,” refer to the thing as Grimace, because it’s wide in the middle and purple. 

That’s right, we have a cute name for the strap-on when we’re not referring to it as my wife’s cock.

But anyway, browsing the ball-gags, I saw them in myriad colors, and it made them somewhat more acceptable to me.  I thought, “Maybe I could wear one of those.”  But then, the TV show “Bones” had an episode about ponies.  You know, fetish ponies, not horse ponies.  I got a phone call ten minutes after it aired:

“Honey, did you watch Bones tonight?” my wife asked.

No.  Why? ”They had an episode about ‘ponies.’”

Yeah, I’ve heard of that.  “It took place on a farm for all of these pony people.”

Yeah, okay.  Why are we talking about ponies?  [In my head, I think, 'She saw this and she got aroused.  We're going to try pony play next.  I have no idea how I feel about this.  How do I feel about this?]  “How do you feel about ponies?”

Um, how do you feel about ponies?  [If she wants to do it, I want to encourage her, because she's encouraged all my flights of fancy.  Me, I have zero-interest in pony play, but I had zero-interest in having her name scratched onto me either, so if she wants to do this, we can give it a try, sure, I can feign interest if it's too weird.]  “I have zero-interest in pony play,” she said.  “I just wanted to make sure it’s not something you want.”

Um, no, no I can’t say that it does anything for me.  But…  “Yes?”

I know we said no ball-gags, but a bit…you know, like a horse’s bit, but for people.  That’s kind of hot.  “…really?”

[I can hear the wheels turning in her head.  She's thinking about me wearing a bit.  Her voice gets lower when she thinks dirty thoughts, as Happy Homemaker Christian MILF disappears into the Evil Twin.]

Yeah, it would give me something to kind of bite down on while you beat me, and we were talking about riding crops, and maybe a flogger, so the beatings are going to get more intense, and I thought something to bite down on would be good.  “Hmm.  I like the idea of a bit.  Go shop around, find one you like, and we’ll try it out at Thanksgiving.”

And so here I am, a week or so later, shopping around for bits.  And that leads me back to ball-gags, and trying to ask my wife if she’ll bend our rule about them if I buy one that’s gaily colored and not all leather-and-chrome, because I kind of want to try one.  I have a feeling there’s a point in our relationship where we’re going to try to give leather and chome a try — I mean, leather looks cool, and chrome’s shiny — but right now, bright and non-threatening are the bywords for my comfort level. 

Really, I’m doing a lot of shopping — a bit, a ball-gag, a flogger, a riding crop, some ankle-cuffs, and a feeldoe.  Christmas is coming early this year.