Reruns

I occasionally go back and reread some of my own posts. Two things happen when I do that:

  1. I realize I tend to repeat and even contradict myself.
  2. I cheer myself up.

 
Case in point where I do both simultaneously: Back in September, I wrote a post called “Feeling Good” where I said:

Regardless of hearing how she was enjoying her control over that which made me a male, I told her that I was feeling oddly unmotivated right at that moment. In the few times I’ve been denied this long, I’ve noticed that the constant craving of sexual contact eventually subsides, at least for short periods. It will come back at a moment’s notice, but when combined with the chastity device, I felt an almost eunuch-like vibe descend on me.  I should have been hoping for some kind of sex and getting all frothy, but instead I was very content just holding her and burrowing my face into her, enjoying this period where everything seems to be clicking. If she had told me that she was ready for sleep, right at that moment, I would have been absolutely fine with it. It felt as though a part of me had really come to terms with the arrangement. No orgasms in three weeks, no contact with the cock for the majority of the past two weeks, hardly any sexual contact at all over a week and a half – I felt very non-sexual.

I’ve read about guys who, after having been denied for very long times, will eventually lose their sex drive all together. I think last night I was feeling a taste of that. It didn’t feel like a bad thing, though. I wasn’t upset or angry or anything. I was happy. I can’t say I would have felt that way over the long haul or what those feelings would have meant to my mental health, but right then, I honestly had no motivation to be anything other than her affectionate little rabbit.

Sound familiar? Pretty much the same vibe I’ve been feeling recently actually seems to have started two months ago. But, unlike recently, I was feeling pretty good about it (hence the title). I wish I understood better how pretty much the exact same emotions can, in one case, leave me a happy little sub and, in another case, cause me to spiral round the psychic bowl.

I don’t know. It’s complicated, right? Like a little machine made of brass rings, emotional and hormonal and more, constantly turning so that all the tiny variables of life can’t interact on it in exactly the same way more than once. I am evolving. I should make a list of posts like this one for those times when I find it difficult because there are moments of lucidity where all the rotating segments line up and I can see, right in front of me, satisfaction. Then they turn again and I’m left to coast until the next alignment.

Why do I find this so hard? There are a metric shit ton of guysub blogs out there and a very tiny number of those guys (at least, according to my limit census) ever seem to enter into periods of funk and doubt. There are notable exceptions, but so many of them seem to chug right along, never looking back, never really thinking about where they are. Belle accuses me of thinking too much. Maybe she’s right. Maybe I should stop trying to figure out the mechanics behind the constant rotation and just accept things as they happen. The difference between trying to stop the wave as it crashes into me so I can analyzing it, interrogate it, catalog its every atom or just letting it crash and wash over, savoring the sensation.

Either way, I’m pretty sure at this point I’ve already written about it, both loved it and loathed it with anticipation and dread.

In rereading this, I feel I can’t leave the impression that I’m still funky. I’m not. I miss my Belle terribly and crave her return. I miss her body next to mine as we sleep, I miss the sounds of her moving through the house, I miss making her coffee. I want to be and do exactly what she wants and I know that will satisfy me. Whatever alignment caused me to slip into my foul mood has moved on. I can feel it. Now all I need is her, with me.

Also, I want to bring special attention to Elle’s most recent HNT. Just awesome. Maybe her best yet. (And don’t forget to click through to the second image).

Technical difficulties

Mr. McGuire: I want to say one word to you. Just one word.
Benjamin: Yes, sir.
Mr. McGuire: Are you listening?
Benjamin: Yes, I am.
Mr. McGuire: Plastics.
Benjamin: Just how do you mean that, sir?

The past few days, I’ve been having issues. Specifically, odd feelings from inside the tube of the chrome CB6K. Pinching, sensitivity, soreness, etc. Belle had left the key in the house, but hidden, so I couldn’t really see what the deal was (the tube being all metallically reflective and all), but I felt I had the situation in hand (so to speak).

Early this morning, I awoke to an intense itchiness. It was driving me up the fucking wall. Down on the right side of the shaft, just above the head, it itched like a motherfucker. I’ve had the occasional isolated itch before, but nothing like this. Had the Geneva Convention considered enforced male chastity, itchiness of this magnitude would have been banned by all civilized nations.

I sent an email to Belle who I figured might be getting ready for bed on her side of the planet saying, in short, I need that key. Every day so far that she’s been gone, she’s called at about 7:00 AM while the kids were getting ready for school, but not today. Of course, not today. And no response to my email. I proceeded to turn the house over looking for that key. Good news, I suppose, is she didn’t leave it in any of her previous hiding places. Regardless, after a short while, I lucked-out and found the key inside a thing in a drawer in the kitchen. As quickly as possible, I was in her bedroom, pulling the device from my body.

Besides the itchy patch, I can see at least three other spots where the skin has been irritated and rubbed raw. In addition, there’s another of those weird little penis pimple things forming on the glans. Basically, the inside of the chrome tube is just not finished very well. There’s apparent overspray from the painting process that, as I mentioned right after I got it, leaves the interior unacceptably rough for long-term wear. A day or three doesn’t seem to be an issue, but I’m going on a week and a half now and the damage has been done. Besides the roughness, it also continues to rub color onto my skin turning it black in spots (and, apparently, causing penis pimples).

Yeah, real fucking sexy.

Were I not damaged, I’d put the old clear tube back on and try to forget about the key. The Steelheart is winging its way back to the Fatherland for a smaller ring, so it’s no help. In any event, I’m in no condition to be packing plastic at the moment. Maybe in a few days, but not now. Funny thing is, I may as well still be locked up since, in its current state, playing with the damned thing would be too painful.

Calibrating

Reader BT left the following thoughtful comment to my last post:

The malaise is a normal part of the progression of a real Female Dominated relationship. We males are always “on” when it comes to sex. Always the reaction is “Why not?” when the possibility of sexual activity comes along. Women are generally “off.” Their reaction is generally “Why now?” when faced with sexual possibility. By handing over the control of the sexual activity in your relationship to your wife you are naturally going to find yourself subjected to periods of “drought.” It’s a female thing.

But as it turns out that you can find that you actually can enjoy some aspects of it. It is during the times when the focus isn’t on the sexual in your relationship that it can be on deeper personal attachments between the two of you. More on your devotion and trust and caring and mutual support of one another. And that can be very fulfilling and satisfying. That probably doesn’t seem like crazy-talk to the gals reading this comment, but it might seem like it to the guys.

In addition, after having your wife in control of sex for awhile your body learns to react in new ways. There will be times when your “big” brain is saying “Man is she looking hot. I really want to have some sort of sexual contact with her!” while your other “brain” seems to know that there is no possibility of that occurring and so doesn’t bother to rise to the occasion.

Don’t sweat it. (the malaise and the slight ED) It is all part of the process and a good sign that you are happily progressing along this path together. At times like these concentrate on trying to do considerate and thoughtful and romantic things for the one you love. You don’t realize it yet, but you have been emancipated from the chains of always seeing everything through the lense of sexuality, and because of that you are free to enjoy pure romance and love in ways you probably never have experienced before.

Go Thumper, GO!

While formulating my response, I realized it might go on for a while and figured a full-blown post would be more appropriate (because maybe everyone doesn’t read comments). Also, Belle told me in an email from Hong Kong that she “really liked” what BT said, so it’s relative importance has been elevated.

First, I will pick a nit with something BT said regarding how I’ve given Belle control over sexual activity in our relationship. In fact, she always had control over sexual activity in our relationship, from the first time we did it straight on through to the wedding night until today. The only real change in the last year is that I can no longer guilt her into giving me some. She pretty much does exactly what she wants when she wants, as is her right as outlined in our Covenant.

What I’ve actually given over to her is the cock. She now controls what I do with it at all times, not just when we’re having sex. When I can touch it, when I can see it, and of course when it gets to come. The net result of this is that our sexualities have melded – mine into hers. I no longer have the ability to achieve any kind of sexual release on my own. Everything has to go through her.

I’ve struggled with that because I feel as though my sexual identity disappeared into her somewhere. We still inhabit two bodies, but sexually we are one – and not the one who wants to do it all the time. Maybe I’m mourning the end of my separate, distinctly male sexuality. Maybe I’m having a hard time fitting her female sexual motor onto my male engine mounts. Maybe, as she’s suggested, I’m just feeling sorry for myself.

The upshot of this, though, is that a great deal of the tension between what I want and what I get went away. That tension powers all the other stuff, to a certain extent. I agree with BT that I should focus on being considerate and romantic during these slow periods, but at least for the past month or so, I only felt the wind flutter out of my sails. I lost my sexual North and she didn’t really give me a new one to replace it – a point to sail towards.

The bright spot in all this is I don’t feel any resentment or anger. I did feel that when we started down this path (a hang-over from feeling it for the better part of the last ten years), but not recently. Not really at all. Angst, sure. But that’s very different than stewing over her perceived neglect. I completely accept her control over my sex and really don’t want things to be any other way (and neither does she). So maybe BT’s right and this is all just “part of the process”. If so, I’d like to move on to the next part, please.

And maybe I already have. I don’t feel at all like I did before she left. I’m actually kind of horny again and feeling the familiar tremulous anticipation of something I’m not going to get. I can’t say I understand all the levers or that living as the s to her D has been easy, but I can say we’re both in this for the long haul. We’re going to make it work.

Practice makes perfect.

Still alive

While I can’t say the malaise has been shaken off, it has been given a good kick. Yesterday, the last full day before Belle went away for a week to Asia, I asked for an orgasm. It’s not that I especially wanted one, but I was at a loss with regard to my continued apathy and saw her impending departure as yet another seven days of sexual vacuum.

As I requested it, I imagined doing myself since she’s on the rag, but as the evening came alone, her fingers found the opening in my pajama bottoms and started to caress the flaccid cock. She did this for quite some time and the damned thing barely twitched. It’d been 23 days since the last orgasm and there she was paying it the most attention it’d seen in two weeks and all it did was lay there. I told her I was worried that I had somehow broken it.

I eventually closed my eyes and really concentrated on the feeling of her fingers on my skin. After a good ten minutes of this, there was life. A few minutes after that, there was a firm plumpness. Then, an honest to god hard-on. Finally.

Her grip was an odd one with most of the stroking being applied to the sides of the erection. She worked on it for what seemed like quite a while and I wondered if she’d ever get me off that way or if all she’d do was get me really, really turned on (and then if that wasn’t just as good as getting off) when I felt the tell-tale tingling and gurgling of the plumbing, deep down inside, rattling and clanging to life. Shortly thereafter, I was coming into her hand in great squirts. My entire consciousness had become that orgasm and as I felt the crest of it wash over me and the spasms start to subside I willed them to continue. Now that I was doing it – finally – I wanted it to go on and on and on. I never wanted to stop.

Today, as she busied herself around the house, I half hoped (OK, more than half) that she’d forget to tell me to get back into the device. She left me out on Friday which was why the meat was so readily available the night before. But, less than a half hour before she left, she told me to get it on. I actually begged to be left out, but she was firm. I was to be locked up. And so I am. I will have been locked into one device or another for all but two days of the previous month by the time she comes back from Asia. At least, as she clicked the lock shut, she thanked me for giving her control over it.

The truth is, I wish it was off. I wish I could be stroking myself right now and I wish I could come. I have a great desire to come. Had she left me out, I’m not sure what I’d have done. Part of me rationalizes that what I need to get my mojo back is a lot of coming. Lots and lots. I need a reset. A reminder of what I’ve been missing. Proof that I still can and still want to. Then again, as I sit and type this, it occurs to me that this desire, the thing I’ve been missing for weeks and weeks, may be my absent mojo after all. Perhaps wanting to come but not being able to marks the beginning of the end of my funk.

Maybe. I suppose only time will tell.

Floating in the void

I’ve been trying to write something for a few days but each time the WordPress editor comes up, all blank and intimidating, I wither and slink off. I’m wandering around in a bit of a funk and I can’t say what it’s really about and if I can’t do that I certainly can’t write about it. I suppose I could do a chastity nerdery post and compare and contrast the CB6K and the Steelheart (and mention that I’m currently in the CB6K instead of the Steelheart because we’ve decided it needs to go back to Germany and get a smaller ring), but that wouldn’t feel right. I certainly will get around to writing all that, but to do so now would be like describing the ballpark when I really should be calling the game.

So yeah, malaise. I’ve been denied for 19 days today and locked up for just over two weeks. In the past, this’d mean something, but at the moment I’m not feeling it. I’m feeling something, I just don’t know what it is. Belle’s aware of it, of course, and we’ve bandied about the “taking a break” thing, but I don’t know what that would mean and don’t want to be any way other than I am now. I don’t want to come by myself. I don’t want to be unlocked. I don’t want my orgasm back. And that’s really the issue. I don’t want it, period. While I haven’t come in nearly three weeks or felt a free erection in over two, I’m kinda not missing them. And that bothers me. A lot.

It could be that we’re not being intimate right now. We’ve had a few moments. We shared her orgasm this weekend, but then I ruined it by letting myself get too carried away and not leaving her alone in the bask and glow stage. I felt very bad about that. Then the other night she slapped my balls around a little and I really liked that (so much so that it caused me to excrete a thick slug of precum afterward), but in between these events I’m not feeling what I used to feel. I’m not feeling horny, at least not a flavor of horny I’m familiar with. If she made a move toward sex, I’d do it happily and enthusiastically, but I’m not feeling compelled to push the issue. She doesn’t seem to want it, anyway.

It’s not just Belle. Porn, my old standby and the thing that’s in the past helped me get my motor running, hasn’t been very compelling. I used to be able to appreciate it even when locked up but now, while I might get a momentarily tight tube when looking at it, I don’t feel much interest in doing so and the residual affects are fleeting. I don’t recall there ever being a time in my life when I felt so apathetic towards arousal.

I wonder if this is the point I’ve been trying to get to. Have I lost my independent sexuality? Is it entirely about her now and, absent her motivation, do I not have a sex drive? And if so, am I OK with that? I really don’t know. I feel like there should be more. That I should be feeling more. I miss the subbie vibe and the drive to do things for her. Now, instead of feeling the need to demonstrate my submission, I just do it. There’s no charge around it. So, is this right? Is this where you get when the newness rubs off?

I don’t really know the answer to that. All know is I’m not horny, but I’m not not horny, either. I’m not happy, but I’m not unhappy. I don’t feel subbie, but I am acting that way (or trying to). I feel like I’m floating in a void, neither light nor dark, cold nor hot, no up and no down. I don’t want things to be different, but I don’t want them to be exactly like this, either.

Punished

Apparently, I was being snarky. That’s what Belle said, anyway. I certainly was poking fun at her, but, you know, in the most respectful and loving way possible.

Whatever. She didn’t appreciate it.

“You think that’s funny, do you?” She asked.

“Kinda, yeah.”

“OK. Get the Icy Hot.”

“What!?”

And it went on like that with me begging and squirming and trying to talk her out of it. Eventually, she made me get up and retrieve the tube of devil paste from the bathroom. I got back into bed, placing it on my nightstand, and tried to distract her. I was hoping to be able to wait her out. Soon, she’d be sleepy and maybe I’d get off the hook.

After a few minutes, “Get naked and under the covers.”

I did so, still hoping there’d be a reprieve. In theory, I want her to punish me when she sees the need. In practice, Icy Hot hurts like fuck. Plus, I wasn’t really prepared mentally since I wasn’t even aware I was committing a punishable offense.

“Give me the Icy Hot,” she said. I gave it to her while still doing my best to talk her out of it. She seemed to very much enjoy my pathetic protestations.

“Close your eyes.” Whimper. I closed my eyes and opened my legs, exposing the poor, unsuspecting scrotum.

I heard the cap open…I heard the paste squeezed out…I heard the cap snap shut…a few moments of silence…then I felt her fingers smearing the cold lineament across my skin. As usual, for the first several moments it just felt cold. Then even colder as whatever hellish combustion process it utilizes started to take effect. Then hot. Then really hot. Motherfuckinghot.

I tried not to make too much noise, but each wave of burning was greater than the last. I rolled over on my knees and spread my legs so my nutsack would hang freely. She placed her hand on my back in a gentle, loving way as I clenched my eyes shut against the burning. The fumes of the Icy Hot were traveling up my crack and started to provide my ass with a contact burn. That was new.

She must not have put nearly as much on as last time. The burning waves seemed to start to subside after the forth or fifth. Soon, all I felt was a lingering, low-level heat. As I moved about, the burning would intensify for a few moments and then retreat again. I felt well and truly punished.

The next morning, all the burning just a memory, I still felt the difference. I was much more contrite and feeling the subbie vibe. Icy Hot is almost too intense for us to use in a scene now, but as a punishment it was quite effective. I enjoyed the psychological afterglow of being punished even though the actual act was hard to take. From her perspective, its impact far exceeded the effort she needed to put into it. All she’d have to do in the future to make it a more severe punishment would be to increase the amount applied. Since I really don’t like it all that much, I will truly want to avoid it.

I’ll have to do something about the snark.

3.6 times hotter

In the comments to Security wankie (did anyone get that pun?), reader Wally shared some helpful experiences with the Steelheart, including this on security:

As for security may I suggest you go to a jeweler and have them make you a small chain with two closed loops on each end. These loops are small enough to go though the hole in the end of your tube, but large enough for one to go around your piecing jewelry and the other end go over one of the side alignment pins of your Steelheart. Basically the chain in installed on the end of your piercing ring and the chain goes down inside the tube out though the hole outside and up to the alignment pin. The chain will be long enough to allow your member to move up and down the tube freely but short enough not to allow pull out.

My issues with this idea are threefold. First, I need my device to be as quiet as possible. I imagine having a lovely chain coming out the end of the tube and running up the side would result in some noises. The noise, in and of itself, kinda turns me on as it’s an ever-present reminder of my chastity, but when you’ve got a couple of small kids in the house (or any size kids, I suppose), mysterious clanking is a problem. The other problem I have with Wally’s solution is that the chain, strung through the hole in the tube, would ruin my ability to pee vertically. The chain, I’m sure, would disrupt the stream and lead part of it off to the side. Having to sit to pee isn’t a deal-breaker since I’ve been doing it for months, but I really, really like using urinals. Finally, I’d be worried about the chain moving freely up and down the tube as the cock contracted and expanded. I am totally incapable of using any solution that pulls on my piercing.

Which is why I liked the Steelworxx PA fixing so much. Its design, inside the tube, allowed my piercing to move up and down the length of the fixing resulting in practically no pulling. However, that’s also the fatal flaw of its design since only one side of the fixing is fixed. The other has a little hook that, I assume, is supposed to keep the ring from sliding off. It doesn’t work. Even without trying to, my little buddy can escape the fixing shortly after being placed onto it.

So, to summarize, what I need is a way to secure the PA ring that doesn’t pull, doesn’t ruin vertical peeing, and doesn’t make noise but does make it difficult, if not impossible, to pull the dick out. I think I’ve got a solution.

What I’ve done is revisit the PA cable concept (the saga starts here), except this time, I’ve run the cable down the inside of the tube, not the outside. Then, I run the loops out and over the top of the device and secure them on the opposite side’s alignment pin (I’ll post a picture later to help make this clear). I run the loops on the outside since the aluminum ferrules I used to make them would be very uncomfortable sharing the tube with the tender secured meat. Hooking them to the opposite side’s pin helps keep the stiff cable from pulling out and getting out of position. The cable hugs the entire inside of the tube so the PA ring can slide around like the rings of a shower curtain. As long as it’s not immediately in front of the hole, it doesn’t get in the way of the stream. As long as it doesn’t come up and out the tube, it’s doesn’t pull on the ring. Since it’s coated in plastic and the ring is acrylic, it’s very quiet. So far, there’s been very little pinching or other discomfort (though I’ve only been wearing it for about 24 hours now).

Of course, it’s not perfect. I can slide most of the cock out of the tube, but it’s pretty uncomfortable to do so. Since it allows me to access the acrylic PA ring and since the ball is easily removed by hand, this is not total security, but it pushes off quite a bit farther any “accidental” slipping out of the tube. The only way I could get out now would be to disassemble part of the apparatus that secures me which is a hard limit in my mind. I could improve the security by using a stainless PA ring which, at 4 gauge, has a ball that cannot typically be inserted or removed by hand, but the metal would introduce clanking, so that’s a nonstarter. Also, I don’t think it’s necessary.

While I had the tube off yesterday, I took the opportunity to sand down the sharp edges of the brass locking mechanism. This proved to be a major improvement as the lock no longer cuts into me. Also, I’ve decided that the A-ring I ordered is too big. Even though it’s exactly the same size as the CB6K ring I was using before, due to its different design and material, it’s just too big. The whole device hangs too low when my balls descend. With the cable in place, this isn’t a huge problem, but it just doesn’t feel right since I’ve gotten used to the snug, closer fit of the CB6K. Dietmar says I’ll have to send the entire thing back to get a new ring since part of the lock is on the ring and part is on the tube. He’ll need both to make sure they fit properly. That sucks, but I get it. As soon as Belle decides I’m out for a while, I’m going to send it back and use the chrome CB6K in the interim.

So there you go. A thousand words about security on the heels of a post where I suggested security isn’t all that big of a deal. As I said, security = hotness. With the cable in place, the Steelheart is 3.6 times hotter than it was without. At least for me.

Heavy petting

Laying in bed this morning, with the bright Fall sun streaming through the window and illuminating the scattered pages of The New York Times, another perk of prolonged orgasm denial presented itself. Belle was reading the paper while I was watching TV shows that had piled up on our DVR. I had my head up near her shoulder and was enjoying the lazy, familiar contact with my mate when she put her arm around my neck, her hand down the front of my t-shirt, and started to run her fingers though my chest hair.

These simple, absentminded touches can totally consume someone in my condition. It’s only been ten days since the last orgasm, but that’s long enough to be ramping up into the first strong pangs of desire. As she ran her hand from one nipple to the other, I felt the new metal tube start to tighten and my ass grind down into the bed just a bit. A strange purring moan came softly from my throat. I felt very content. Happy.

Of course, I would have thought that was pretty swell even if I wasn’t soaking in my own androgens. But little things like that are kicked up by a significant factor through denial and are one of the happy little side-effects of not being allowed release.

To that end, I was lobbying Belle this morning not to let me come when my first date comes up. She says it’s soon, but it’s only been a week and a half since my unintended orgasm (let alone the two she let me have in Mexico). I suggested making me wait until next year. That’s just a little longer than I went last time. I also suggested she tack on a month each time I get to come. Two months would lead to three months would lead to four months, etc. I know I’m not supposed to be thinking about that, but anyone who’s read this blog for a little while knows I’m more than a little obsessive about things.

Yesterday, I said to her in passing that it had been nine days since I came. Why, she asked, in the face of asking not to come for the rest of 2009 would I feel the need to reminder her of a mere nine days? Good question. I know I wasn’t lobbing for release. I think I was just fishing for some recognition. A pat on the head. Pathetic, I know. In any event, she reassured me she did recognize my commitment to her control. She said she knew it was hard.

Which leaves me with conflicting thoughts. On the one hand, I am committed to her control. I’ll come when she tells me to and I won’t whine or fret. Promise. On the other hand, I want to do hard things for her. I want to be pushed over ever-more difficult challenges to demonstrate I will do anything she asks. Hard things have value. Easy things don’t. If you think about it, that just about sums up the entire practice of long-term orgasm denial.

Security wankie

As I said yesterday, the new Steelheart is only a little less secure than my CB6K. However, it is less secure, a fact only compounded by the total failure of the PA fixing that came with it. This reality has led me to rethink a few things regarding the entire purpose of the device.

Some guys look down their noses (or boners, as the case may be) at those of us who remain chaste though the use of devices. They say the only true way to demonstrate commitment to their partner is to always have access to their dicks but to never use them for anything their partners haven’t authorized, let alone ejaculation. I truly do appreciate this point of view and admire men who are able to muster the self-control necessary to keep their hands off in the face of incredible frustration. But I guess that assumes they are, in fact, keeping their hands off.

Personally, I don’t need the device to keep from having an unauthorized orgasm. The last thing I want is to orgasm (though I desperately want to always feel like I want to – paradox!). What I crave is lots and lots of stimulation. I love playing with myself up to the moment of orgasm, cooling off for a few seconds, and then doing it again. I adore the feeling of a stiff one in my hand, heavy PA ring flopping to and fro. Even with it’s not hard, I find I can’t keep my hands off the cock. It’s like a magnet to me. So, based on all that, what the device represents is Belle’s desire to limit my ability to pleasure myself. She knows I will not come on purpose. But she also knows, from experience, that allowing me to play with the cock is a recipe for disaster.

So, the device isn’t about orgasm control. It’s a masturbation and self-pleasure control mechanism. When she puts me in it, she’s saying she wants me to focus on her and her needs. Jacking off in the shower, even if I don’t come, is distracting and indulgent. Stroking in bed after she’s fallen asleep does not leave me in the same frame of mind as when I’m just left to stew in my juices. Those guys who liken my device to a crutch are right, I guess. It’s a deterrent. A reminder of what she wants. And I need it.

My quest for the undefeatable device is more about nerdery and kink than anything else. I want to feel totally powerless against the device, but don’t actually need to be powerless. For me, it’s more like a “keep off the grass” sign or little wrought iron fence around a flowerbed. A reminder that there are rules and I’m expected to play by them.

Further Steelheart Nerdery

In a comment to HNThumper X, Billus asked:

I’d be interested in how the ring size compares with whatever ring you were using on the CB6K. Did you simply measure the plastic ring, or disregard it completely and determine the steel ring size some other way? Same with the spacing. It seems like with all the trial and error involved with a plastic CB, you have to get the steel one absolutely right the first time.

When I ordered the Steelheart, I pretty much used the CB6K measurements I had settled into (shortest spacer, middle ring). For the circumference of the tube, I went with the measurement provided for the CB6K, though as anyone who owns one knows, it’s wider than it is tall. For tube length, I measured my CB6K configuration and subtracted 5mm since the CB6K’s tube is tapered and there’s a bit of wasted space toward the end that never gets filled.

What I’ve ended up with is a much more forgiving device than the CB6K, though it looks more severe. Even though the tube is shorter, the internal volume is greater due to the the Steelheart’s tube being closer to a true circle in shape versus the CB6K’s oval. In addition, since the Steelheart’s tube is blunt and rounded, I find erections fill it more efficiently. I have no way of knowing this for sure, but I’d guesstimate that only about 40-50% of my erection could fill the CB6K while it feels like closer to 60-70% fills the Steelheart. It’s an entirely different sensation. The CB6K was rather brutal in the way it arrested erections and ended up stuffing a lot of it back up into my body. With the Steelheart, I have the sensation of achieving something close to a full erection, though with a satisfying amount of restraint. Due to that and the more lifelike curve of the tube, I find myself stroking the Steelheart more like a real cock when I’m hard. All for nothing, of course, since I can’t feel anything. It’s significantly frustrating, though in a different way.

In retrospect, I might have been able to move to a smaller ring and tighter tube, but the jump from where I was to the next size down seemed pretty steep. I might order a smaller ring at some point (assuming I don’t need to send the whole thing back for that), but I’m pretty pleased with how it turned out.

Other random observations:

  • I’m struck by the heat of the device. The plastic tube of the CB6K did warm, obviously, but the steel seems to take on a heat all it’s own. At night, under the covers, it’s downright hot to the touch. Almost like a separate living thing. Also, it get’s noticeably hotter during erections, especially on top. These are all nicely sensual bonuses I hadn’t really expected.
  • Keeping it clean is more difficult. I’m not sure if it’s just because the Steelheart is harder to get into due to the one little hole or if it’s some difference in how the steel holds on to fluid more than the plastic, but I do more often get that “not so fresh” feeling now. I’ll need to clean more thoroughly and more often.
  • fixinMy previous comment about the PA fixing being “marvelous” was premature. It’s true that, when the PA ring is secured, I can’t feel a thing. It’s awesome. However, the damned ring doesn’t stay on the fixing. At some point I’ll post a picture, but As you can see in the picture, the fixing consists of thick stainless wire that runs down the left side of the tube and curves across the end before coming back up the right side a little. I think the issue is it doesn’t come far enough back up the right side since I know the PA ring is in place when I put it on, but it’s always slipped off when I check later. This is a significant disappointment. However…
  • Regarding security in general, the Steelheart is only a little less secure than the CB6K. To be fair, the stock CB6K, even when fitted properly, comes off pretty easily (at least for me). Had I a slightly smaller tube or ring, I suspect the Steelheart would be about the same. Since the device is not the primary way in which Belle keeps me chaste, this is not a deal breaker, but I, like so many other chastity enthusiasts, still crave total security since, you know, it’s way hotter.
  • I find myself using hardly any lubrication at all with the Steelheart. The steel just seems to interact differently with my skin so that I don’t really need it. This improves security a bit and, I’ve found, also allows the device to sit up a little higher. I think anyone using a steel trapped-ball device like this one and lubing it up like a plastic one will be disappointed in how totally insecure it feels. Less lube should also translate to better hygiene, so perhaps that’ll help offset the other issues I’ve had.
  • I created a short video demonstrating how the integrated lock works. The only place I could find to host it (for free) was Xtube. If you can put up with all the shit going on elsewhere on the page and are interested in seeing how the lock works, check it out.

 
Other than that, everything’s hunky dory. I feel like I could wear this thing indefinitely and Belle and I are both very happy with how it looks. I’ll post further developments as they unfold…