Yoga Girl and Story

I was recently in touch with a relatively new blogger named Yoga Girl, whose blog is called FLR101. I recently added a link in my blogroll to the right. I would highly recommend it. It is thought provoking and you submissive males will find it titillating (though that is perhaps not the intent).

She is a professional woman with a science and medical background as a primary care provider. She is also an avid Yoga practitioner.

It so happens that she's also a very strict FLR wife who insists that her husband practice the Taoist tradition of semen retention.

I introduced semen retention to my husband, and he also has an ejaculation schedule which is enforced by consequences that he agreed to.

She argues convincingly that there are many great health and relationship benefits to the practice.

I love her blog name, Yoga Girl. It conjures images of a strong, fit, attractive, centered woman, who in this case brooks no disobedience from her stay-at-home husband.

To get you interested in going over to her blog, I will quote some choice passages (slightly edited for continuity out of their original context).

She says,

I decided on one ejaculation every 5-7 days. Thanks to the application of consequences for unauthorized ejaculation he has learned restraint and waits for me to give him the release command which once given produces a large amount of ejaculate immediately every time. After riding him daily for 5-7 days for extended periods in his pre-climax state (the moment just before ejaculation), he's more than a little anxious, and I'm kind of eager to watch his release. It's a special day all around. Now that he’s trained, retaining his semen, and maintaining sustained thrusting, I typically enjoy at least nine orgasms in intercourse and about 50-100 orgasms before he has his special day. It’s so much more intense having intercourse with a man that's writhing on the brink in excruciating pleasure beneath me.

At this point we need to discuss the "brink". You're on your bull ride cranking out those orgasms which for me tonight ratcheted up to 18 full and powerful orgasms. Thank you, hubby! Now what do you do with the quivering whimpering mass of man lying between your thighs in excruciating pleasure on the brink. It's over for him and he's still humping the air like something might happen but it's just not. Unfortunately, ejaculation is still 5-7 days away for him. You need to take solace in the fact that the orgasm he's going to have days from now will be far more mind blowing than the one you could give him now. Women want so much to please their man, but you need to realize that this delay is the best thing for his health and the long term passion in your relationship.

This transition from thrusting and stopping without completion can be a big hump to get over for him. I don’t mean to be graphic here, but this is the most effective way I’ve found to deal with this transition. I’m almost always on top riding the bull until I’m almost to orgasm, and when I’m on the brink, I jump off onto his face, and he licks me to climax. And rinse and repeat about 9 more times ... sometimes 18. On the last time, after my orgasm, Instead of getting up and walking all ten feet to the bathroom to pee, I use the "Open" command and just use the convenience that’s already between my thighs, and have him hold it in his mouth until he cools off losing his erection. Meanwhile, while he's holding it in his mouth, I can use the bathroom and get dressed with no annoying begging and then give him permission to spit it out as I'm walking out of his room.

In addition to the health benefits for him, she speaks to the benefits in obedience that such a regime brings about:

Tell him what chores need to be completed before ejaculation. My husband may be on a 5-7 day schedule, but that is contingent upon his behavior, and certain things getting done. If he's had an instance of poor behavior, his 7 day schedule just became 8 or 9 days. Would you like to try for 10? It corrects bad behavior instantly.

For example let's take a typical experience that most couples encounter. This happened today. We're having a discussion in the car, and he raises his voice. I don't like that, in fact I hate it. I simply calmly said "You've just been bumped a day," meaning his ejaculation day on Sunday is no longer tomorrow, it's on Monday. The drive to ejaculate is so strong in a male, it was less than ten minutes before he apologized, and asked if I might reconsider as he has been looking forward to his release all week. I said we'll see how the rest of the day goes. He doesn't have to apologize either. He could just wait until Monday. But he does what he can to repair it, and he hopes he's back on track for ejaculation tomorrow. We'll see, I haven't decided yet. Does an intercourse session take place if the kitchen is dirty? Or if the kitchen is clean and orderly 99% of the time? Answer not required. A clean kitchen does not guarantee a session will happen, but a dirty one 100% guarantees a session won't happen.

Your opinion will be highly valued, and your words will be closely listened to. Indeed, once my husband approaches 10 days without ejaculation with daily intercourse sessions, everything is "Yes, mam." No, mam." And he will even ask for permission to speak if it's about a subject we may have disagreement about. Your opinion will move from just being your opinion to law. I don't require these things at all from him, there are no rules issued by me. This former alpha male just adapts these behaviors as his biology changes.

She speaks about how to enforce the regime.

The only authorized ejaculation in our relationship follows the words coming from my lips: "You may release your load now." He lives to hear these words, and ejaculation always follows on the last syllable of that sentence. He will do anything to hear them. But those words won't mean anything if the schedule you set for his ejaculation isn't enforced. There's no getting around this. Males have such a strong evolutionary built in desire to plant their seed. They'll just do it and apologize afterward. It's a sincere apology, but it doesn't get my schedule followed does it? I believe he really means it, but it doesn't solve the problem. When hormones take over, they can't help themselves. When my husband's passion has pushed him to the brink after thrusting me to 18 orgasms, the only thing I've found that works to keep him from teetering over the edge is something that's so horrible that awaits on the other side of his ejaculation that he wouldn't even consider violating the sacred ejaculation schedule. Violating the schedule should be almost as serious to you as him sleeping with another woman.

The consequences that you decide on must be so completely aversive to the subject, he will do anything to avoid them. It doesn't bother me to deliver the punishment because I know what I'm doing is for his own good. I administer it with a firm tone and make sure that it is severe, but I don't do this out of anger. It's in a loving manner but fierce.

It's likely that he'll be aroused by being punished by you. The aversive stimulus must overwhelm the "punishment at a women's hands reward" that he just earned by violating your schedule. My husband wants no part of his aversive stimulus, and it's why he hasn't touched himself in close to a year. He has gone from masturbating 30-60 times a month to masturbating 0 times a month. That's all I require from an aversive stimulus.

Yoga Girl is coy on specifying the aversive consequences, as she feels it is up to each woman to select what's best in this regard for herself, taking her own male into account. But in the comments section she does give some more prescriptive advice.

Averse punishment need not be harsh. An aversive stimulus could be as simple as bumping his ejaculation day 2 days later than it otherwise would've been. The threat of bumping my husband's ejaculation day has a huge impact on his behavior.

For an infraction of the schedule I could implement an 8:00 bedtime for a week or whatever time and length I choose that would be aversive. The threat of a bedtime terrifies my husband so it works. An 8:00 bedtime is aversive in that it removes all stimulus, and gives him time to reflect on what he's done and how committed he is to following his wife's wishes. Before the wife goes to bed, she should check in with him and ask him to explain why he now has a bedtime. My husband finds one day with an early bedtime akin to Chinese water torture and is very aversive. It keeps him very alert during intercourse about warning me about any spill that may arise. He actually would prefer a whipping with a leather strap than an early bedtime.

Corner time can also be effective. Turning a chair facing the corner and having him sit there for an hour. The wife should check with him periodically during this time out and have him explain why he has a time out.

Nose against the wall. The wife can have him stand with his nose against the wall with a quarter between his nose and the wall for fifteen minutes. If the quarter falls, the time is increased. It's pretty aversive.

Putting a man on an allowance for a period of time is also aversive. If his behavior is compliant, spending limits go up. If he's not, spending limits get tighter.

Whether he has permission to go out with friends should be determined by compliance with the ejaculation schedule.

Accidents happen, but I really don't like them as it wrecks all the work we've done in retaining. I can probably count on one hand the number of accidents he's had in the past year.

And, while Yoga Girl does not stress it in relationship to his retention training, we do find out buried in the comments that she is not averse to applying additional discipline on the side:

I find that firm discipline helps my husband focus on his role as well which is of course to be a loving and supportive husband. I have used a brush, but more commonly use the 16" drilled wood paddle, and the 20" leather three tailed strap which are also very effective in helping him align his priorities.

A truly strong FLR wife and a truly pussy whipped mate. Please go and visit her blog and leave a nice comment for her. FLR101.

By coincidence, as I was getting ready to write this article, it just so happened I got a story submitted to me by a blog follower on the topic of Yoga Girl.

His name is michael, and he also goes by the name "Proud Servant". You may email him at proudservant4women at gmail.

Here is his wonderful little story inspired by a mixture of myself and Yoga Girl.

An Exercise in Humility

When I acknowledged to Strict Julie that I'm over 65 and I frequently masturbate to her blog she replied, "It excites me to know a man your age is still jerking off to my stuff!!!"

I was very gratified to know I'd excited her.

Then she added, "You should go ask your Doctor's permission, though ;-)".

Yikes! I hadn’t expected that. My immediate reaction was resistance, even defiance. She couldn't make me! She only knew me as a nearly-anonymous commenter on her blog, so I didn't have to. There would be no consequences. But soon my desire to please Strict Julie won out, and I resolved that I would do as she said. I am a submissive man, after all, and I love to please women. Especially dominant women. And Strict Julie had provided me with countless hours of happy stroke-time, so it seemed only fair, even fitting, that I be willing to humiliate myself for her amusement.

Gulp. Had I realized how much humiliation would be involved I might not have gone through with it. But I'm glad I did.

As it happened, I had my annual physical exam with Dr. Gibson the very next week. I've been seeing Dr. Yvonne Gibson for eight years. She's probed, diagnosed, prescribed, explained, and helped me be a healthier man. I really appreciate her skill and dedication. Dr. Gibson exudes confidence when she speaks, when she makes eye contact, and in the way she moves. She's an attractive woman, in her mid-thirties, I’d guess, and I always give her my full attention when I'm in her presence.

I was nervous when I arrived at the clinic. I hadn't rehearsed, but I was resolved. The nurse took my height and weight and led me into the exam room, where she took my blood pressure. A bit higher than last time. I knew what that was about. Fortunately, my blood pressure is generally low (in a good way), so my nervous energy didn't lead to any concerns.

The nurse gave me an exam gown and left the room. I changed and waited. And waited, it seemed like a long time. I thought I could hear my heart beating. Then there was a knock on the door and Dr. Gibson announced herself. I acknowledged her and reflexively sat up straighter. Dr. Gibson entered, followed by a younger woman who also wore a lab coat. Dr. Gibson introduced her as Ms. Slater, a medical student. Dr. Gibson explained that Ms. Slater was shadowing her as part of her education. Did I give permission for Ms. Slater to be present during my exam? Of course I did. I was always quite compliant with Dr. Gibson. It's just my natural reaction to confident, assertive women.

The exam started routinely. When Dr. Gibson looked in my ears, eyes, and mouth, Ms. Slater stood up and watched closely. I felt like I was being probed by both women. I gave it up for them, opening wider, following directions intently. When it was time to listen to my heart and breath Dr. Gibson asked if it was all right for Ms. Slater to listen, too. I nodded. So they both leaned in, their stethoscopes on my chest, on my back, listening closely. In such close proximity I felt awash in their sexual energy. I got just the slightest glimpse of Ms. Slater's  cleavage and imagined nuzzling her there. I was starting to get aroused. This wasn't good.

Dr. Gibson put on gloves and had me stand up. Time for the testicle exam. She had me lift the gown and then she nonchalantly held my somewhat-engorged penis out of the way with one hand while she felt my balls for lumps with the other. Ms. Slater stared, intent on getting full value out of her day beside Dr. Gibson.

"Do you examine yourself this way?" Dr. Gibson asked me.

"yes...", my voice was weak.

"How often?"

"Ummm, about once a month?" I exaggerated.

"That's not enough. For best results you should examine your testicles every week. I suggest you pick a day of the week and make it part of your routine when you shower."

"Yes, Dr. Gibson. Thank you." If only she would do the weekly exam! Sigh.

Dr. Gibson let go of my penis, and I was aware that it didn't go back to just hanging down. Her little touch-and-talk had gotten me more aroused. I could feel my cockhead pressing lightly against the gown. I wished I could detach from my body and float away somehow.

Dr. Gibson consulted her tablet and announced that I was due for a digital rectal exam. I smiled weakly, turned, and bent over the exam table. The gown fell away, exposing me completely, I'm sure.

It was Ms. Slater who spoke next. She told Dr. Gibson that she hadn't gotten much practice at rectal exams in medical school, and asked if she could perform this one. To build her confidence, she said. She gave quite the little sales pitch. Dr. Gibson was sympathetic, but pointed out that since Ms. Slater didn’t have her MD degree any exam she conducted could not be part of the official record. But she offered an alternative. She asked if I'd let Ms. Slater conduct an exam, just for practice, to be followed by her official exam. I agreed, of course. I adore confident women, and I want there to be more of them in the world. I spread my legs a bit as a gesture of acquiescence.

So I got two rectal exams for the price of one. Ms. Slater was tentative at first, then a bit rough, and it seemed she took a long time. She found my prostrate all right, and I felt my erection grow. She pressed on it repeatedly, and rubbed across it, back and forth and around, and I swelled with every movement. Eventually I shifted my hips just to free my very hard cock from the weight of my torso. This brought a mild admonishment from Dr. Gibson.

"When you move it makes it harder for Ms. Slater to examine you. Can you hold still, hmm?" When she said, "makes it harder" I had to stifle a giggle. But I did hold still.

"Thank you," said Ms. Slater. "Now just bear with me while I find your prostate again." And then she repeated her exam, complete with all the probing she'd done the first time. I lay still and visualized my anal sphincter opening wide. My humble contribution to women’s advancement.

Eventually Ms. Slater withdrew her gloved hand and Dr. Gibson entered with hers. She was quick and precise, in and out in just a few seconds. She announced that my prostate was in fine shape. And well-stimulated, I thought to myself. Dr. Gibson stripped off her gloves and handed me a large wad of toilet paper to wipe myself. I always hate this part of the exam. I didn't know if they'd encountered any fecal matter, and even if they hadn't I had a mess of lube back there. I didn’t want that in my underwear, so I turned sideways and wiped myself, then dropped the toilet paper in the trash without looking at it. This part is humiliating every time, but especially so as I tried to hide my erection.

I eased myself gingerly onto the exam table, closing the gown behind me. I bent forward slightly, but still my erection poked up against the gown. I wanted to be done, but I knew the hardest part lay ahead.

"So, you're in good health, as usual," said Dr. Gibson. "Do you have any questions or concerns?"

Oh, Lord, that one tumbled around in my brain for a while. Yes, I had a question, but it wasn't really mine. I was just carrying it for Strict Julie. I looked up at Dr. Gibson, knowing I had to ask, but not yet ready to. Dr. Gibson met my eye with a steady, inquiring look. She really did want to hear my question, and address my concern. Such compassion. I love that woman. Ms. Slater bore witness.

I drew a quick breath, then another. "I, umm..." I couldn't get it out.

Dr. Gibson gave encouragement. "Yes?"

Another full breath, and then I plunged ahead, into the dead silence in the room. "Do I have your … permission…" That word was hard, and the next was harder. I barely got it out. "…to masturbate?"

There was an explosion of sound as Ms. Slater jumped up, knocking her chair over. She retreated to the far wall of the small exam room, one hand at her heart and the other held out in the "stop" sign, as if to hold me back. "No!" she fairly shouted. "Don't you dare!"

Oh, shit! She thought I was asking permission to masturbate then and there, to relieve my obvious erection. I turned fifty shades of red. I shook my head "no", but I couldn’t manage speech. Ms. Slater turned to Dr. Gibson, close to tears, and said, "I can't be with this." She emphasized "this" by shaking her outstretched hand at me, as though shooing away an annoying animal. Dr. Gibson just nodded. Ms. Slater shot me a look of disgust and horror and made a quick exit, closing the door loudly behind her.

"I'm so sorry," I offered to Dr. Gibson. "I didn't mean now. I meant, in general."

"I see," said Dr. Gibson. "Well, your timing wasn't good. I can see why Ms. Slater misunderstood you, since you were aroused. Do you understand that?"

"Yes. I'm very sorry. I didn't mean to upset her. Or you."

"I'm not upset. But I am curious. Why are you asking my permission to masturbate?"

Oog. I couldn't exactly tell her the truth, that a woman I didn't know had told me to. Fortunately, Strict Julie hadn't told me to go into any detail, so I was on my own as to reason. "Well, I just want to be careful, at my age. Am I in good enough health to masturbate? Are there any risks?"

Dr. Gibson assured me that I was in good enough health, and that it was safe for me to occasionally masturbate to orgasm. She emphasized the word "occasionally", and told me that excessive ejaculation was definitely bad for a man’s health, as it drained his life energy and weakened his immune system. At my age, that was the primary risk of masturbating.

Dr. Gibson spoke at some length about the benefits of semen retention, as she called it. She spoke with great conviction, and I listened intently. Eventually she asked if I had any questions.

"How often is it safe for me to masturbate? For my health, that is."

"It's not masturbation that’s the problem, per se. You can masturbate frequently, but you should limit how often you ejaculate. At your age, I recommend ejaculating once every two or three months. And less frequently as you get older." Dr. Gibson was matter-of-fact, with no discomfort at all. I found her confidence reassuring, and felt that I would be all right whatever was said. At the same time there was no erotic edge for me at all, and I was sure I had completely lost my erection. Which was a relief.

"Are you able to masturbate without ejaculating? I only ask because many men seem unable to control their urges."

"Yes, I can. I have." I felt calm, and would have submissively answered every question she had about my masturbation habit.

"Good for you, that's a good sign. Many men are very attached to ejaculating, to their own detriment. Now one more thing. You asked my permission to masturbate, but it's not really my place to give or withhold permission. You have my approval, as your doctor. It's safe, medically, with the caveat about ejaculating. But male ejaculation has social, as well as medical, effects. So the question of permission belongs more appropriately in the context of any intimate relationship you're in. I strongly recommend you defer to any intimate partner in this matter." She spoke slowly and made forceful eye contact. "Do you understand?"

"Yes, Dr. Gibson." I dropped my eyes.

A few moments of silence, and then the exam was over. I thanked Dr. Gibson. I told her I would like to apologize to Ms. Slater. She said it was up to Ms. Slater whether she wanted to see me again or not. Then she set the chair back upright and walked out, on to her next patient. I got dressed, feeling rather deflated. As I walked back through the clinic I looked around for Ms. Slater, but she wasn't in sight. The nurse gave me the evil eye as I passed by.

At home I made myself a cup of tea and thought it all through. I was pleased that I'd carried through on Strict Julie's assignment. It had been worse than I'd expected, far worse. But it was worth it. I had been a loyal blog reader, and I'd repaid, to some extent, all the pleasure that she'd given me over the years. And I thought over what Dr. Gibson had told me, about not ejaculating. Retaining my semen, that's how she put it. I hadn't heard of this before, but it did make sense. When I ejaculated I always felt a big drop in energy. I'd often fallen asleep, and even if awake I was moribund. Did ejaculation really drain my life energy away? It seemed entirely plausible.

That evening I visited Strict Julie's blog, as I do every few days. She didn't have a new post, so I scanned through the blog list on the right side. I have a few favorites there (thanks, Strict Julie!), but none of them had new posts, either. Then I noticed a blog I hadn't seen before, FLR 101. I checked it out. It was written by a woman for women, but it didn't say it was off-limits to men, so I read on. It was well-written, with conviction and lots of detail, and even research. It was about how the author, who went by Yoga Girl, had transformed her marriage by taking control of her husband's ejaculations. She went into great detail about the importance of reducing the frequency of male ejaculation. This was completely in synch with what Dr. Gibson had told me just a few hours ago. There was a whole lot more, about how controlling her husband's ejaculations had transformed their marriage, along with many intimate details about their much-improved sex life. Dr. Gibson didn't go into that, of course. But it was a very much the same material, maybe even the same voice. And Yoga Girl wrote "I'm a professional woman with a science and medical background as a primary care provider." That sounds a whole lot like a physician.

Was Dr. Yvonne Gibson also Yoga Girl? The parallels were striking. But really, that would be too much of a coincidence. Wouldn't it?

I finished my tea and briefly considered moving on to other sexually-explicit sites I've got bookmarked. They had been a reliable aid for getting it up and getting off. But they just didn’t appeal. Something had shifted for me. I wanted to read and think and not ejaculate, and that was enough.