Mica had been practicing at The Hot Yoga Magic yoga studio every week, and this is the place where he met Kevin who was one of the yoga instructors there. Hot Yoga Magic was a Bikram yoga studio in downtown Manhattan.
Mica’s attraction to yoga centered around the combination of the physically intense, challenging postures and the visceral experience of the sweat pouring off of him in the 105 degree practice room. Twenty six postures for one and a half hours in the heat, Kevin would stand on a podium reciting the Bikram dialog and correcting the postures of the class members. There might be as many as 40 or 50 students in the class on any given day, each of them working on a yoga mat at the center of a spreading puddle of sweat.
The thing that Kevin first noticed about Mica, practicing among the other students, was his natural gift of focus. He could single-mindedly focus on a point in space, breathing, entering into a posture without fidgeting or distractedly falling out. He stood out from among the other students in this regard. Students sometimes come to yoga with a “whatever” attitude and don’t necessarily react to efforts to correct their form, but Mica was receptive to instruction and quick to incorporate it in his practice. Kevin devoted proportionally more attention to helping Mica improve.
Kevin had recently started his new religion. He called it The Path. He didn’t have any followers yet. Kevin decided that he wanted to be Mica’s guru and teach him about The Path.
Mica had a vague sense of uncertainty about the direction of his life; therefore, he was somewhat receptive about religion. Kevin convinced Mica that he was spiritually adrift because he’d become too self-involved and too wrapped up in his own narrow interests, which were obsessively centered on shallow pleasure gratification. Everything had become like a sugar high, hadn’t it? Mica had enough resources to get whatever he wanted for himself, but the gratification was never lasting, and lately it seemed he couldn’t identify what he truly wanted anymore.
Here was Kevin’s solution to the problems he outlined in Mica: “You are addicted to your penis,” was Kevin’s premise.
The Path emphasized sexual abstinence as a pathway to greater happiness.
“Think of your penis as a symbol representing all of the other obsessive pleasure seeking that you do, all of which together prevents you from being truly happy,” Kevin advised.
“Set an intention to forego the quick, easy pleasures of life. Bikram says that man is one part goat, one part dog, and one part spirit. Imagine what would happen if you could completely restrain the animal part and fully be the spirit. You’d be a better man and a more complete person, wouldn’t you?”
Kevin was an evangelist preaching spiritual enlightenment and inner peace through sexual denial. He was very persuasive once he got going on it. Despite having never practiced much sexual restraint himself, he passionately advocated penis control for others, and especially for Mica.
So Mica went along. He decided that he wanted be a believer in something. In moments of lucidity in retrospect it doesn’t seem plausible to find God by waking up with aching balls and an aggravating boner every day, having promised not to do anything with it. He didn’t just promise for a week to try it out. He bought into this idea totally and completely with outright willingness and no idea what he was getting into. It is a mystery. You might as well just say that Kevin came along and put a spell over him.
If Mica had inquired a little more deeply about Kevin’s past, he might have thought better.
Kevin had learned his ideas about addiction earlier in his life, when he had run into some problems with alcoholism and had thereby came across Alcoholics Anonymous. He eventually cleaned himself up in AA. He had learned there about the concept of powerlessness over addiction and about the tenets of the Twelve Step Program. Kevin had learned from his experience that he was one of a minority of special people in the world who should absolutely never drink alcohol. Now, he wanted to apply his absolutist view of addiction recovery to other things – sexual things – and Mica. His ideas about a spiritual journey seem to have come partly from yoga mysticism but also partly from his recall of various pop-culture sources, including the Star Wars trilogy, Kung Fu Panda, The Matrix, The Karate Kid, and several seasons of South Park.
Mica’s initial zeal for the new project helped him cruise easily through the first week of the cum control program. He started sleeping over at Kevin’s house so that Kevin could supervise him when he wasn’t otherwise committed at work. Mica slept in a sleeping bag next to Kevin’s bed and got inspected every morning for cum stains. Although an intelligent forward-thinking person in most respects, Mica somehow did not look past the moment to anticipate the vast, unending expanse of continuing sexual frustration that would loom up at him after these first days.
Kevin assumed the role of a spiritual guide. Mica was on a path to achieve lasting happiness and profound inner peace, he would say.
“Achy balls are no big deal in the scheme of things,” he would say.
He used analogies. Kevin would say, “Think about how it feels when you get the hiccups. You’ve gotten hiccups before, haven’t you? You get this sudden involuntary reflex that comes upon you. It interrupts your peace of mind. It is momentarily disruptive, but eventually it goes away. It has no meaning or broad significance to your life. It is a bump in the road of your journey. Yes?”
“Yes.” Mica agreed in the abstract that hiccups have no spiritual significance.
Kevin continued, “So, I just want you to keep that idea ready in your mind next time your penis gets stiff. When you get your next morning boner or whenever it pops up, say ‘hiccup’ to yourself. This is a reminder for you that your erection is an involuntary reflex with no significance at all, like a hiccup, and it will eventually go away. This will really help you for maintaining your penis discipline.”
Kevin was full of these suggestions.
Mica discovered by accident that the pada-hastasana hands-to-feet posture in yoga was a life-saver for curing blue balls. The standing posture starts with bending forward and putting your hands underneath your heels, resting your stomach on your thighs, your chest on your knees, and your face planted on your legs below the knees. Then, you lean forward onto your toes while pulling with the arms and locking the knees until you are completely doubled over in an upside-down “U”.
Incidentally, your testicles get squeezed between the tops of the legs and the stomach when folding completely over. When his balls were really aching, Mica found holding this posture would make him squeeze out a few drops of pre-cum, and then he’d feel better after. He was proud of himself discovering that. Yoga instructors always go on about the health benefits of different postures in yoga, but they never mention that one.
Kevin brought home an actual three-legged stool so that he could introduce Mica to his concept that he called The Three-Legged Stool of Enlightenment.
He said, “You see, Mica, there are three legs that are each equally necessary to support this stool. Similarly, there are three equally important facets or aspects or, um, you know – spiritual things that support your journey toward spiritual enlightenment.”
“So far, we have only talked about the first leg, which represents your penis. (That’s why it’s a wooden leg!) But, there are these two other equally important legs, see?”
Mica’s brow was furrowed, because he didn’t really understand what Kevin was talking about, and sometimes it almost felt as though Kevin were mocking him. It was his guru-mentoring style to impart wisdom sprinkled together with an occasional not-quite-funny penis reference. Mica started to get an erection and said “hiccup” to himself silently.
“This second leg represents obedience. Now, I have agreed to be your spiritual guide on this journey that you have undertaken. I have promised to faithfully guide you with care and love, assuming total guardianship over everything that involves using your penis.”
“And, it is an awesome responsibility you’ve bestowed upon me! I am deeply honored, Mica.”
Kevin made a summation, “So now in return, I need you to pledge your unconditional obedience to me. If you want me to assume this role as your spiritual guide, then I need to hear from you that you promise to always follow my guidance. I don’t want you to fall off The Path. What do you say to that?”
“Hiccup,” Mica said to himself.
Mica was bothered because he was now developing a big full-on boner that was starting to show in his pants.
He said. “Well, respectfully, a couple things. First, I already gave you control over my penis. Now, you also want me to give you unconditional obedience to whatever you teach me from now on. There is still a whole other leg there. What else is still left to give after total obedience plus penis control? It seems like a huge thing to just completely hand over to you.”
Kevin said, “And, speaking of handing over your penis, I’m noticing the bulge in your pants. Is everything as it should be down there?”
Sheepishly, Mica confessed, “Yeah, I’ve got a hard-on again. But, I promise that I’m not doing anything to try to stimulate it.”
Not missing a beat, Kevin replied sagely, “I believe that you are not consciously trying to stimulate it, but you still might be trying to do so unconsciously.”
This assertion blew Mica’s mind, leaving him both horny and dumbfounded.
“I think this is an appropriate time for a snap inspection,” said Kevin.
After the previous week or so, this was no longer an unusual request. Mica pulled down his pants and lifted up his shirt up so that Kevin could do the penis check. It sprung out rigid and throbbing. The penis head was purple with some pre-cum dripping out of it. This penis was in an advanced state of arousal. Fortunately, they’d caught it in time.
“It will be OK. Just remain standing there with your legs apart until it goes down,” said Kevin.
“Thank you,” said Mica. He continued to stand in front of Kevin with his pants down and his shirt pulled up.
“In answer to your earlier question,” said Kevin, “I am not going to reveal the significance of the third leg until after we finish up with the second leg. Because, that’s how all of the spiritual guides do it in martial arts movies. You never just plunk down all of the wisdom at once; otherwise there’d be no movie. There has to be a journey with crumbs of wisdom dropped along the way. All at once is no good.”
Mica could see that this all made perfect sense and that Kevin’s logic as unassailable.
“OK,” said Mica, “I really value your guidance and wisdom. I promise my unconditional obedience to anything you want me to do. Also, I surrender all control over my penis for all sexual purposes to you.”
He remembered another question that had been in the back of his mind. “You’re not going to make me do anything gay, are you?”
“No,” said Kevin, “I’ve got a girlfriend.”
“Oh, OK. I’m straight too,” said Mica, “not that there’s anything wrong with it…”
Mica relaxed and felt relief that these issues were now settled. His erection continued, but it became more manageable. His penis was accepting the new power dynamic.
“Oh, I just remembered – we haven’t negotiated your balls yet,” said Kevin.
“What about them? You never mentioned them!”
Kevin rolled his eyes, impatient with Mica’s lack of foresight. “Mica – try to start thinking more long-term about your future, now that you’re on The Path.”
“Suppose, maybe, one day in the future you will encounter an actual woman. Suppose that she will, strangely, want to be with you even though your penis can’t satisfy her sexually, because it belongs to me. Suppose then, this woman decides she wants to – at the very least – get some use out of you as a sperm donor to get herself pregnant.”
“Uhh…” Mica hadn’t ever thought about being a father – or the consequences of being with an actual woman.
“What about that?”
“Uhm…, well, how to even answer that? I’ve never thought about being a father to a child! I don’t know if I’d ever want that.”
Kevin’s eyes rolled again. “Mica, try to understand: you obviously wouldn’t have any say in it. It’s between her and me. You just, two seconds ago, pledged your unconditional obedience to me. Now, you immediately tell me what you want and don’t want?”
Mica flushed slightly. He felt ashamed and uncomfortable to be so naked in front of his yoga instructor. Kevin could somehow see right through him to expose very contradiction of his mind, and his mind wanted to rebel against this intrusion. His penis, which had started to go soft, also flushed and resurged fully erect again. Mica struggled to refocus his thoughts back to the subject.
“I … I’ve got balls loaded with sperm.” Mica paused and swallowed.
“…but, you are teaching not to cum and how to devote myself completely to it. So, regardless what I would want, I can’t have children.”
“Exactly my point!” said Kevin. “We have to plan for these eventualities.”
“Imagine, say, ten years from now, you’ve totally mastered penis control to the point where you don’t even remember what it feels like anymore to shoot a load. Then, you meet someone who wants to procreate. You’ll have to relearn the mechanics, of course.”
“What I’m saying is – if that ever happens – your woman could negotiate a one-time use agreement. She could use your penis and unload your sperm for the strictly procreative purpose to make babies.”
“Babies…? Like, more than one?”
“Sure – as many as she wants. She might want to have your jizz frozen for later.”
“Really though, shouldn’t I decide for myself about something so personal as fathering children in the world?”
“No. Not really.”
Kevin exclaimed, “You’re on The Path, dude! Look at you! You are already way beyond such base animal considerations. You are all about the spirit now, completely focused on your gaol!”
“My goal?” Mica shifted his feet slightly, and the stiff rod between his legs momentarily waggled as if it were blindly seeking out a direction.
“No. Your gaol.” Kevin corrected him, pronouncing it in old English, sounding like “gay-hole.”
“Your ‘gaol’ is similar to a goal, but is something that you obsessively commit to single-mindedly in a deep, dark, profound, surrendering, totally receptive, more-completely-open-than-you’ve-ever-been-before, painful, transcendental way.”
“But, it’s not gay?”
“Absolutely not. It is some ponderous deep spiritual shit!”
Mica had the uneasy feeling in his gut again that Kevin was somehow mocking him behind his eyes, even though he appeared completely earnest. But, Mica craved a deeper sense of direction and focus in his life, and a part of him even craved to be painfully opened.
“Do you really promise that you will teach me how to be completely focused on… my… my… my ‘gay-hole’?” Mica asked, pronouncing this unfamiliar word carefully and correctly now.
“I solemnly promise,” said Kevin.
“Thank you. My guru is wise. He sees inside me and thinks of everything!”
Kevin guided Mica, shuffling with pants still hobbling his ankles, over toward a bucket of soapy water and a sponge. Mica was instructed to wash down, dry, and wax the wood floor. This wasn’t what he expected to be doing. He expected something a little more deep, dark, and profound after all that. But, he obeyed without hesitation, as agreed.
He stripped off his clothes that would otherwise get dirty on the floor. He still had the erection. He was conscientious, and he made every effort in good faith to minimize bouncing it around or doing anything to further excite it. Mica remembered Kevin’s strange suggestion that he was somehow unconsciously teasing his penis.
He was concerned now that he might be developing a subconscious agenda to cum, even though he was consciously devoted to the idea of Kevin dominating him and permanently ruling his penis; so, he took no chances. He started then to invest a lot of mental energy in defeating his own imagined efforts to defeat Kevin’s plans for him, and he started to get entangled that way in his own mind.
Kevin perceived the bind that Mica was getting himself into, and it made him very happy.
After Mica had been washing down the floor for a while, he relaxed and more fully committed himself to the work in the same way he’d focus on a yoga exercise. It wasn’t obvious to him that he could achieve enlightenment by working a wet sponge on hands and knees on the floor, naked with his boner. But, the second leg of The Stool was unquestioning obedience.
Mica’s mind drifted, and he started to hum some tune that came to mind. The sound of his own hum helped him pass the time. When he finished with the washing down part, Kevin called for him in the other room.
To Mica’s surprise, Kevin grabbed his penis head without any intro or warning and lifted up the shaft to inspect the undercarriage. He pulled on Mica’s testicles and squeezed, and he actually stroked the shaft a few times with his hand, which brought Mica’s penis immediately throbbing right up to full tumescence again.
“I… no… I might cum, if you do that!” Mica protested. Micas’ balls started to ache, and the shaft started bobbing like a metronome.
“Sometimes, I’ll want to do a more thorough hands-on inspection,” said Kevin.
“I want you to submit to the handling and to keep yourself under control, even if I work the shaft. Later, I will train you in some more advanced techniques that will help you more to defeat your urge to cum, even when being stroked.”
Kevin said, “I noticed when you were washing down the floor that your mind wandered, and you started humming.”
“Yes. The music in my head helped me relax and distract my mind from the cleaning.”
Kevin rolled his eyes at Mica yet again and even smacked him once hard on his bare ass. “Dude, that’s so wrong! Think about it. Why would you want to distract yourself?”
Mica was surprised when Kevin smacked him, but he resolved to let it go. He said, “Well, it’s tedious labor. It’s repetitive. It’s boring. My mind has nothing to do.”
“What did we just discuss tonight about being focused and committed to your gaol? When I tell you to do something, you should get yourself single-mindedly focused on it. You’re not to distract yourself and go wandering off in your mind. Understand, dumb ass?”
The words struck Mica harshly and were even more insulting when Kevin casually pushed his index finger into Mica’s face and then right up Mica’s nose to emphasize his point. Mica squinted, turned his face away, and snorted but didn’t actively fight back in any way.
“Now, I want you to practice being mindful. Do you know what I mean by ‘mindful’?”
“The yoga instructors talk about mindfulness in yoga practice. I think it means the instructor wants us to hold the yoga posture and at the same time, keep our minds focused on the experience of the moment and on our own breathing. For some reason, they don’t want the students’ minds to wander and think about other things, like what we eat for dinner and such. I’m not really sure what the point of it is. My mind wanders all the time in practice anyway.”
“That’s right! Yoga is a moving meditation. I want you start a similar practice when you are here with me. When you practice mindfulness, the meditation can lead you to a deep trance-like, receptive mental state. Mindfulness will be really good for you. It will help you get to an untroubled place in your mind where you can experience inner peace and greater happiness.”
Kevin discoursed on mindfulness.
“First of all, I want you to breathe through your nose with your mouth closed. I want you to practice stillness, making no sound. When you go back in the other room to wash down the whole floor all over again, I want you to pay attention to your breath. Breathe deeply and slowly. Get in the habit of counting your breaths. One, two, three, four, sequentially.”
“When you are done washing the floor, I want you to be able to tell me how many breaths you took from beginning to end. Whatever action you are performing, I want you to focus simply on the task itself and on the breath. If you notice your mind start to wander, bring it back. Think about what you are thinking about. And, if you become distracted and lose count of your breaths, it’s OK. Just take your sponge and pail and go back and start over again.”
“Count one, two, three, four,…, all the time, focusing on your breath”
“From now on, whatever you are doing, every moment from when you wake to when you go to sleep again, I want you to try to experience it in a state of mindfulness as a moving mediation. You will not always be able to enter mindfulness perfectly, but you should always be trying to enter it. You will get better at mindfulness as you practice it more, and it will help you. You will sometimes forget how badly you want to masturbate, when your mind is so occupied with breathing and counting.”
“I want you to strive toward yogi perfection in cleaning my floor by doing it always more mindfully than when you did it the last time. Later, when you start cleaning the toilet, you will also strive for mindful perfection, counting your breaths throughout the time it takes you to scour the grout between tiles and shine the porcelain, always relentlessly focusing your mind to the moment, your immediate task, and your breath.”
“And, what is your task?” Kevin quizzed him now.
“…to clean the floor?”
“I mean in a deeper, spiritual sense.”
“Focus on my gaol. Obey you. Don’t play with myself.”
“Correct. You will eventually train yourself not to think about other things. It is called mindfulness, because your mind will become totally full – no room left in it to think about the obsessive pleasure-seeking habits of your old life.”
“Distraction is a slippery slope, grasshopper. First, you are humming an innocent tune. Then, maybe the tune imperceptibly transitions into ‘I want your sex’ by George Michael!”
Incredibly, Mica’s guru leaped up and commenced to boogie across the floor singing George Michael lyrics in a most disturbing way:
I want your sex
I want your, sex, sex
It’s natural
It’s chemical (let’s do it)
It’s logical
Habitual (can we do it?)
It’s sensual
But most of all
Sex is something that we should do
Sex is something for me and you…
“Nope! Wrong! That’s not The Path. You were just humming to kill the time, but next thing you know, the hairy beast will return and take you over. You suddenly won’t be able to stop yourself from waxing your pole with animal lust overtaking you. You’ll revert back to the hideous thing that you were – drooling, moaning, humping pillows, carelessly squirting your semen all over, treating everyone else with disregard – making the whole world your personal cum dump. But, I’m the new sheriff in town, and those days are over, pal!”
“Three legs:
1. –penis denial, to bind that hairy beast;
2. – total obedience;
3. (We will talk more later about three.)”
After that, Mica found it almost impossible to not think about sex, especially because Kevin was constantly reminding him not to think it. In the month since Mica had surrendered over all his rights to penis sex, it almost seemed like his penis was conspiring against him. It was becoming super-sensitive. If there was a breeze in the room, his penis would stir to it. Every time he bumped up against something, it would start to re-erect. And, his penis head was itchy. The thing wanted to be scratched, and rubbed, and played with again.
But the most insidious way that it undermined him was when it entered his dreams. Mica was starting to get sex dreams at night in the sleeping bag. And his dreams turned into fantasies of having glorious, carefree sex with his penis.
Sometime later, Mica failed his morning penis inspection. He stood up with his morning boner out of the sleeping bag beside Kevin’s bed, and they could both see that he had ejaculated all over it during the night. Mica knelt down at Kevin’s feet and begged forgiveness for the lapse. He had undermined Kevin’s total ownership over his penis by stupidly, mindlessly discharging his cum all over inside the bag. He hoped Kevin believed him that he sincerely hadn’t done it on purpose, but had done it in his sleep.
That night he had been dreaming, and in this dream he was rhythmically thrusting his hips and pelvis with a soft white athletic sock unrolled down the length of his hard-on, which had stiffened out so far that the his penis knob went up into the heal. He worked the tube of the sock with his one hand all up and down the length of his penis shaft while joyfully pinching and rubbing his penis head through the cloth with the other hand.
It was a great dream. Kevin required Mica to sleep with boxing gloves on and had confiscated all his socks; so, masturbation into a sock was an exotic fantasy for him, not achievable at all.
Kevin had been handling Mica’s tackle more aggressively every day to assert his control over the thing, but poor Mica hadn’t even so much as touched his own cock knob in a whole month. Not only that – Kevin even more severely restricted Mica’s access rights beyond the original terms.
One of the simplest pleasures of life – Mica had always loved to wake up in the morning and just yawn and scratch on his nut sack. Scratching the nut sack is like a God-given right for every man. Mica couldn’t even have imagined it being taken away, but then fucking Kevin took it away!
“Why? It’s not sex! Why can’t I just scratch my balls occasionally?”
Kevin said, “I’ve watched you when you do that. It looks suspiciously sexy how much you enjoy it.”
But, Mica could escape from it all in this dream where he was free to masturbate with abandon until his ejaculate spurted up neatly into the sock toe. But, in reality there was no sock toe, and the disgraceful evidence was spattered all over.
Kevin called a group of friends together to the house for a get-together that he called “Penis Anonymous.” When everyone had arrived at the house, Kevin explained to the guests that this meeting was convened as a kind of intervention to help Mica regain his footing in the quest for spiritual enlightenment by never playing with his penis.
Kevin began by filling everyone in on the whole history: Mica’s apprenticeship under Kevin’s close spiritual guidance; Mica’s amazing free-will complete surrender to Kevin (permanently) of all rights to use his own actual penis – still physically attached to Mica’s body but no longer belonging to him; Mica’s desperate voluntary enslavement to Kevin in a failed effort to deny the beast. Kevin announced again for show how deeply honored he was to take on the awesome responsibility of managing (and mainly restricting) Mica’s penis use. He elaborated how he’d strictly reduced Mica’s use rights down to daily peeing and pubic hair grooming, really nothing else, and explicitly, emphatically no touching the shaft or the knob.
Everyone nodded in approval that Kevin seemed to be managing Mica’s penis in a very responsible, sane manner. Kevin explained to the listeners that there is a daily penis inspection. In addition, there were random snap inspections to verify Mica’s compliance with the penis control. Kevin brought Mica up to the front of the room beside the podium where he even demonstrated the inspection routine.
Kevin paused, then said “At approximately 04:30 hours a few nights ago it was determined that Mica had violated the penis use restrictions and had recklessly ejaculated his cum all over my bedroom.”
The audience members were visibly disgusted.
Kevin said, “Therefore, I’ve convened for benefit of Mica this Penis Anonymous meeting so that we can have dialog with him and impress him with the potential danger and consequences of his deep-seated penis addiction.”
People clapped. Mica came to the podium to give his testimony. He was nervous about public speaking.
“Um, Hi everyone. I’m Mica, and I’m addicted to my penis.”
“Hi Mica!”
Mica started to space out immediately from stage fright, so he went to the paper that Kevin had handed to him with some talking points. Looking out at the audience, he realized to his surprise that many of the members of Penis Anonymous appeared to be female. It seemed incongruous, but he didn’t have any time to process this information.
“Why is he making me testimony my penis to a room full of chicks?”
Not knowing what else to do, Mica started to recite the words on the paper, mentally checking off each point. The paper was titled: Mica’s Penis Addiction – Twelve Step Recovery Program
“I just want to get this over with,” he thought.
He began to read quietly, “#1. I admit that I am powerless over my penis…”
But, multiple individuals in the back yelled at him repeatedly, “Louder! We can’t hear you!”
Mica tried again several times, but the audience was only satisfied when he began to plainly shout his testimony at full voice. It sounded to Mica as as if he were screaming it:”
#1. I admit that I am powerless over my penis—that my life has become unmanageable!
There was some polite clapping from the audience: clap clap clap clap
#2. I believe that my guru, Kevin, can restore me to sanity by making me adhere to strict penis discipline and complete sexual denial!
clap clap clap clap
#3. I have made a decision to turn my penis and my life over to the care and guardianship of Kevin, as I understand Him!
clap clap clap clap whoo! yes!
#4. I have made a searching and fearless moral inventory of my addictive behavior that leads to my disgraceful explosive emissions of ejaculatory fluid!
clap clap clap
#5. I will confess to Kevin, to myself, and to others the exact nature of my excessive sex fluid production!
clap clap clap
#6. I am entirely ready to have Kevin remove this defect of character by enforcing stronger measures to lock down my penis!
glory! praise Him! amen!
#7. I humbly ask Him to remove my shortcomings and to teach me more effective orgasm control techniques!
Teach that boy! clap clap clap
#8. I will make a list of all persons I might have harmed, had they been accidently sprayed with my semen discharge, and I am willing to make amends to them all!
Mica paused and interrupted himself here, questioning, “Um.Wait. I don’t see that there were very many other people involved there…(?)”
Kevin announced, “I think you will be able to cover most of them by mailing out nice hand-written notes of apology.”
Mica acquiesced, “Um. OK.” He continued nervously.
#9. I will make direct amends to such people wherever possible, except when to do so would injure them or others! Huh?
clap clap clap
#10. I will continue to take personal inventory of my continuing heightened state of sexual arousal, evidenced by my frequent erections, my penile engorgement, the leaking of pre-cum from my penis head, and the aching sensation in my balls from my permanent cum denial, and when I have failed to always completely cock-block myself, I will promptly admit it!
This seemed a little over the top to Mica as he screamed it out, but he just wanted to get to the end.
whoop! whoop! yes! That’s what I’m talking about!
#11. I will seek through prayer and meditation and swallowing loads of His sperm to improve my conscious contact with Kevin as I understand Him, praying only for knowledge of His will for me and the power to carry that out!
clap clap clap
“Wait. What…?”
Kevin said, “Please finish the testimony, Mica.”
#12. Having had a spiritual awakening as the result of these steps, I will try to carry this message to other penis addicts, and to practice these principles in all my affairs!
clap clap clap
Michael felt so relieved to finally end his humiliating public penis testimony. They broke for soda and cookies.
As instructed by Kevin, Mica approached everyone individually to offer a sincere apology for being a disgusting pig and disrespecting his wiener guardian. Most people responded with sympathy and encouragement. One guy honked his ball sack like a bicycle horn and laughed at him. Eventually, it was over. Mica felt like a pathetic jackass, but that is all part of the recovery process.
More time passed. Mica surrendered himself to The Path.
Mica gradually improved in his spiritual development by obsessively thinking about not thinking about stroking his penis shaft to make himself cum. His testicles sometimes felt like lemons bumping against each other in his sack. He imagined he might cum out his eyeballs, if he couldn’t release it. It was mentally exhausting, all this not-thinking of things.
The Path was neutral about the ethics of pre-cum, because it was just unavoidable. His penis was inflating all the time, and his balls were so full. He’d often leak a sticky string of clear fluid from his penis end. It wasn’t milky white; so, his sperm load was still secure and no harm done. The beast was restrained.
Mica continued with his attempts to reach yogi perfection by practicing mindfulness while hand-washing all of Kevin’s underwear. Kevin owned a washer-dryer, but they both agreed that in a spiritual journey the most tedious and labor-intensive way is always the best way. That’s why Mr. Miyagi made Daniel-san wax-on/wax-off all day. He could have just used a buffing machine instead.
Mica had a wash board and a galvanized steel tub. He filled it with hot water and detergent. Kevin wanted all his undies individually washed in hot water, not scalding hot, but always hot enough so that Mica would need to just quickly dunk his hands and forearms in and out of the water while scrubbing. Holding them in there any longer would start to hurt.
“I don’t want to hurt my little padawan,” Kevin would say.
Mica practiced mindfully scrubbing each pair of underpants on the wash board, quickly dunking both hands in and out of the tub. He was kneeling by the side of the tub, and he had a boner again. It was awkward and distracting, because he had to plunge up and down vigorously without knocking his protruding cock knob against the tub. He lost count of his breathing about halfway through; so, now he had to dump out the tub, make a new hot water bath, and start the whole load over again.
Silently, breath counting: “one, two, three, four, …”
About another hour into it: “…, one thousand eighty-five, one thousand eighty-six, one thousand eighty-seven…”
It got harder to keep the count as the numbers got bigger, and he had to say the long numbers in his mind fast to keep up with the natural pace set by his breathing and plunging. It was a Saturday. He would have all day to keep practicing this without interruption.
While mentally keeping track of his breathing, he would then also plunge up and down in time with his breath, scrapping each underpants up and down for a count of twenty four, then he would turn the underpants inside out and do the same on the opposite side. Same thing with each individual sock. The tee shirts were more complicated because after scrubbing the inside and outside shirt body he was then required to individually scrub the left and right arm-pit areas of each. They were a pain!
It was unavoidable that his penis would start to bounce around in time with the plunging, and that usually excited him and brought on the erection. So, Mica had to be very focused and careful. Mica hadn’t had any more unauthorized cum eruptions since the intervention, and Kevin was intensively penis-training him to keep it that way.
Mica was now required to perform daily exercises in which he squeezed down hard on the pubococcygeus muscle, which is the muscle behind your balls that clamps down to close the urethra. Everyone uses this muscle from childhood to not piss – except under appropriate circumstances when they want to. If strengthened enough through exercise, the pubococcygeus can also hold back the ejaculate when an orgasm starts to come on.
Having trained up this muscle for some time, Kevin now regularly tested Mica’s cum control. Kevin had explained to Mica that a knight’s armor in The Middle Ages would be proofed before battle by hitting it to see how many blows it could withstand.
“We’re proofing your penis,” Kevin would say as he stroked away on Mica until his toes curled and his face flushed.
Still washing the underwear, mindfulness finally comes to Mica now while counting his breaths and plunging rhythmically. His chest and torso sweat because of the exertion combined with the steamy water. He must focus relentlessly on keeping the count, timing his breath, plunging in time to the breath, and squeezing down that muscle so not to accidentally leak sticky strings on the floor while his boner continues to bounce and lengthen and stiffen throughout the day.
He has no brain power left to think about anything else beyond all that, and he passes into a trance-like mental state. He might feel happy this way; although, he can’t easily recognize that he is, because he can’t step out of the experience to look at himself. He is hopelessly trapped in the prison of his own mind’s making. He is profoundly, deeply single-minded on his gaol. He is an open receptacle for the universe. He is right where he belongs.
That same evening, Kevin relaxed out onto the bed in his room. He’d done instruction for three different yoga practices today at the studio, filling in for one of the other instructors out with a stomach flu. He’d been an unstoppable yoga machine today, but now he was going offline. He lighted a joint to settle himself down before sleep.
Mica had been secured down in the sleeping bag after presenting himself for inspection; so, everything was alright with him. Mica’s sleeping bag lay on the floor right at the foot of Kevin’s bed, but Kevin would typically feel private and act as if alone in his personal space as soon has he got Mica tucked into the bag. He usually put Mica down somewhat early in the evening for exactly this reason. He cherished his alone time.
Anyway – Mica looked a little more bedraggled and worn out than usual today; therefore, he would likely fall unconscious soon. Working Mica to exhaustion during the day tended to be a good thing, because he wouldn’t lay there awake fretting with himself about not masturbating. He would just nod off.
Mica had confided to his guru that he wasn’t now having the sex dreams like before. He didn’t have enough mental energy to fantasize. The practice of working Mica hard was becoming another useful tool that Kevin could deploy to confound and disable Mica’s sex drive.
Mica’s face poked out of the head hole at the top of the sleeping bag, but it was otherwise zipped up all around. A while ago, Kevin had decided to have Mica put in ear plugs and keep a black stocking cap pulled down over his head and face while in the bag.
Kevin had given Mica this analogy: “If you’ve ever owned a parakeet that you kept in a bird cage, you probably know that at night they spook very easily. Household sounds and noises interrupt their sleep. If you care about the little creatures, then you slide a cover down over the cage at night so they will feel safe and sound. This is like your cage cover to block out distractions so that you can rest well.”
“Thank you,” Mica had said.
If Mica was still awake down there, he probably knew that Kevin was in the room, if only because of the smoke from his joint. Kevin didn’t feel any need to interact or include him in things. There was no talking allowed once in the bag. Kevin kept an eye on Mica lying cocooned down there but otherwise treated him like furniture.
And, Mica went along acquiescing to all that.
“Mica goes along very well with things,” reflected Kevin.
It occurred to Kevin that he actually liked Mica. Of course, he already knew that he loved dominating Mica, humiliating Mica, working Mica to exhaustion, playing mind games on Mica, and keeping him sexually frustrated. That went without saying.
He laughed out loud at himself, not for the first time since staging that intervention. Everyone he had invited to Penis Anonymous was clued in on the joke – everyone except Mica.
Getting Mica to stand up there naked and read an earnest confession to strangers about shooting a load! Hah! It was priceless!
The best thing was how everyone acted convincingly as if the whole thing made any sense. It really warmed Kevin’s heart to think of Mica with his furrowed brow trying so hard to integrate all that and have it make coherent sense.
Kevin lubed his cock up to shoot a good satisfying load that would complete the job of relaxing himself before bed. He leaned back on the bed and smiled and enjoyed looking down at the bundled-up form of his endlessly fun penis slave.
“He really thinks he’s on a spiritual journey.”
Kevin looked over at the stool in the other corner of the room and frowned a little. He still had one problem needing to be addressed. He had never figured out what that third leg on The Three-Legged Stool of Enlightenment was supposed to represent.
“The first leg represents Mica never having any fun with his penis – check. The second leg represents Mica obeying me and doing every fucking thing I tell him to do – nothing wrong with that at all. This is some great religion! But what is the third leg?
“I’ve got to invent the rest of it before Mica starts asking again.”
“Trouble is – I’ve already bottled him up, deprived him of sex, and totally mind-fucked him.”
“What else can I do to him that’s fun?”