It’s been a little while since I got the Pure wand wet so I had forgotten how gobsmackingly good it is at tickling a prostrate. And by “tickling” I mean “punching the little fucker out”. I got warned up with this nifty little inflatable butt plug I got a while back. Not sure I’ve ever mentioned it here, but it’s exactly the thing you want for that filled up feeling. Totally deflated, its circumference is 4.6″. At three pumps of its bulb, that stretches to 6.25″. Six pumps is 7.75″. I only measured it to eight pumps (8.75″) so I can’t tell you how big it was after 12 pumps, but that’s how many times I pumped it. I pumped it up, thought, “Oh my fucking god,” then let all the air up only to pump it up once or twice more the next time around. Unsurprisingly, that pressure against my prostrate squeezed out a fair slug of goo.

Once I had my fill of that (literally), I got the wand. I decided to well and truly try to milk myself. For the uninformed, “milking” is what it’s called when one massages one’s prostrate sufficiently to cause seminal fluid to express without ejaculation. Some people (like Belle) worry about that fluid staying in the body for too long (though the science on this is sketchy) so prostate massage is a good way to get it out absent the spasms of orgasm. I’ve been somewhat successful with it in the past, but I’ve read accounts of the stuff just pouring out and I want to experience that myself. After riding the wand for a bit, I decided to get clinical (what I won’t do for my readers). I grabbed a small bowl for catching goo and set a timer on my iPhone for 10 minutes. I decided I’d use the wand to stimulate my prostrate constantly until the timer went off and see how productive that was.

For the first five minutes or so, it was just precum. Quite a bit, to be fair, but it was just the clear salty stuff. After that, though, I felt the most amazing sensation. Almost like needing to pee, but not exactly like that. I had to close my eyes and my breath came quickly and caught in my throat at the intensity of it all. The feeling built and then crested causing me to push down as if I was trying to urinate an then flexed the penis. A long, thick slug of creamy semen leaked out of the end of the tube. That’s milking.

These intense waves of sensation came and went, always depositing a new slug of seed into the bowl. After the timer went off, I decided I wasn’t half done and reset it back to ten minutes. The productive period of milking started about five minutes in and lasted for about ten minutes. After that, it felt good (if too good can still be called good), but there didn’t seem to be much left in me. All told, I’d guess there was about two tablespoons of fluid in the bowl, about half creamy and half clear (of course, it didn’t go to waste). I read somewhere once that in some men, the milked fluid expresses internally into the urinary tract and not down the urethra. I peed when finished and noticed that it ran thickly at first, so some of it did apparently go the other direction.

After that, I put the Pure Plug 2.0 in and left it as I showered and left to run some errands. It’s a fantastically comfortable plug with its only downside being the oval handle with has some severe edges. Even so, it can be in there for a long time, if you want it to be. Feeling its incredible heft shift and push against my abused prostrate as I walked and moved at first was amazing but eventually started to be too much for me to take. I got home a few hours later and removed it with a pop. No extra leakage, of course, since I was already well drained.

Today, I can feel the prostate sitting in there brooding over its abuse. Regardless, I am temped to see if I can coax any more juice out of it.

Like last time, I scheduled this to run in my absence. Now that I’m back, the PA and the penis it penetrates are one again protected.

Also, this is my 700th post! Where’s my cake?

Previous HNThumpers here. Read all about Half-Nekkid Thursday over at Osbasso’s.

I’ve been curious about being locked in chastity since adolescence (a complex mix of exposure beginning with a scene from “Robin Hood: men in tights” and some 3 am secret research using Encarta 95 while my family was asleep).

Needless to say, I belong in chastity.

First off, I need to see Men in Tights again, apparently. Second, Encarta 95!? Imagine if you had the whole web back then. Oh, the places you’d go. The things you’d see. Thirdly, I too can find the seeds of my chastity kink going way back. My mom used to get her pantyhose in those plastic eggs (remember those? L’eggs?) and I would take the small half of the egg shell and shove all my junk up into it, then press it against my body while the penis would try to get hard. I remember thinking how much better it would be if the plastic egg half would stay there all by itself. Then, later in life, I used to wrap the penis and my balls in a thin chrome chain and revel in the feeling of constriction. Even though I didn’t know what a male chastity device was until just a few years ago, I obviously liked the concept of being confined well before then.

Here’s my dilemma though: My boyfriend picked up a cb6000 with the intent of keeping me locked up. Now i understand that chastity isn’t supposed to be comfortable, but this device is impossible for me to wear. Aside from being awkward (it didn’t stay close to my body, but rather hung down exposing half my flaccid cock) it just didn’t fit. I’m not huge, but i have girth and it’s thicker at the base then the tip. I was barely able to stuff my junk inside the cylinder, and after crafting a makeshift rope harness to keep it on and wearing it out for a few hours, we returned home to find that the air vents had left abrasions on my shaft (which was bulging out of them) and the head of my cock was getting dark purple from poor circulation.

Again, I know that chastity does involve a certain amount of discomfort, but this is hazardous.

Do you have any advise on which devices are easier to use for thicker cocks? I eventually want to get a steelheart like yours, but felt that i should test the waters and find out the perfect fit with a less expensive device.

To me, it sounds like you’re on the outside of the “one size fits all” range the CB6K is designed for. You say it hangs too low and that’s a function of the size of the A-ring and perhaps the length of the spacers, but it definitely should NOT be leaving abrasions from the thickness of your penis while flaccid and purple is definitely not good. I can’t image what it must be like for you when it’s hard.

I think your best bet is a custom device. Unfortunately, that means spending more out of the gate, but clearly your size and shape aren’t working in the CB6K. You could try the Curve device from A.L. Enterprises, but from what I hear, it’s more for guys who are longer when flaccid, not thicker, and it’s much more difficult to hide under clothing. What I’d do is measure yourself well — flaccid length, girth at base, girth at tip, circumference of both your cock and balls together, when you’re “normally” flaccid, not too much and too shrinky-dink — then work with a custom manufacturer like Steelworxx or Mature Metal. Either of them could set you up well, though MM doesn’t have any styles like the Steelheart.

Finally, I’ll say that I find both the name “Aaron” and the idea of guy on guy chastity very hot. Please let me know how things work out. (And pictures are always appreciated.)

EDITED to add this clip from Robin Hood: Men in Tights

As expected, my privacy was very limited. There were several of us sharing a remote cabin, so I didn’t even have the luxury of a tent wall. We did have one of those pop-up camp showers, but even then it was just a tall tent with a door that threatened to flap open in a stiff breeze. Except for the random morning squeeze in my sleeping bag, I left the penis alone while there. I did have two hotel nights on each end and that first night was incredible. I was as close to the edge I could possible be. There were times when the slightest touch would have set it off. My friend (the one who knows) was surprised that I could masturbate without orgasm. As if it was impossible. Fact is, that’s pretty much the only way I do it now. The best possible outcome would be to feel as I did that night. With the penis all hard and quivering and slimy with its own leakage, my balls all tight and swollen and ready to pump…but nothing else. No actual relief. In any event, my ability now to slice the space between stimulation and completion into smaller and smaller units is, when I really concentrate, pretty amazing. Ironic that being denied orgasm puts you so much more in touch with how it happens.

On the way back, though, I barely touched it. Something about getting closer to home and likely lock-up and Belle’s control made it seem less appealing. First thing I did when getting to my room was to strip down since I do so love being naked and there were no opportunities to be that way on the trip, but that didn’t lead to the orgy of self abuse I had on the first night. Sometimes, I even had a hard time keeping it up.

Upon my return, it didn’t take Belle too long to tell me she wanted the penis back in its home. She said I might get a “holiday squirt” this weekend, but not with any certainty. I locked myself up yesterday as soon as I was done with the trainer. She patted my crotch when she got home and told me I was a good boy for making myself the way she prefers me to be. She likes that she doesn’t have to tell me to lock up, only that she wants me that way, and I do it willingly. After ten days, I admit to wanting it as much as she did.

The penis in this picture is in that semi-flaccid state where there is just the slightest beginnings of tumescence but not so much that I’d call it a chubby. It was warm and fresh from the shower. The heavy PA ring tends to pull the shaft down making it look longer than it usually would. The Steelheart, of course, was its usual cold steely self and appears somewhat annoyed to see the thing on its left looking so smug.

Having the device off also allowed me to show again the internal workings. Here’s the inside space along with the fixing going down into the tube and the 8 GA PA ring resting at the bottom.

I was able to take these pictures when Belle let me out after a three week lock-up and before I left on my current trip. I scheduled this to run in my absence.

Previous HNThumpers here. Read all about Half-Nekkid Thursday over at Osbasso’s.

Her: I don’t want to distract you from getting things ready for your trip, but remind me to share my physical reaction to your post today.

Me: Oh, I need to hear that.

Her: Yup.

Me: You tell me when. I’m all ears.

Her: Yes, when I can speak freely. But I will still be embarrassed.

Me: You’ve seen my blog (and probably a lot more by now) and *you’ll* be embarrassed? Call me when you can.

Her: OK

She was even too embarrassed to write the words, but apparently my last post made her very…um…well…to put this delicately…soaking wet. Surprisingly, to her, since she’s not one to look at porn and hasn’t ever read any erotica. She says her fantasies tend to be about her, not others, so she was quite taken aback when reading about the experiences of other people had that affect on her. She wanted to know what it meant.

Well, I said, it means my post was fucking hot. That’s about it. I won’t try to analyze the fact that her intense reaction was to an account of female domination. There’s just not enough data (as in, she hasn’t read enough smut) to know if it was just the hotness of the action at work or the specific events and power dynamic therein, but as a writer, to hear that someone had that reaction to my words is what it’s all about.

Thing is, I’ve read pornographic stories in the past that suddenly turned down a corner I didn’t expect and had themes that, on their surface, I would rather not read about. Sometimes I stop reading because it’s not my thing and other times I keep reading because, like it or not, I’m incredibly aroused. You cannot control what your brain gets off on. I don’t think my friend is having any kind of crisis of conscience at getting turned on by something she didn’t expect to reach her most intimate places, but it was pretty funny hearing about it. I say enjoy the ride.

Again, for me, it’s a compliment. There is no better compliment I could get, in fact. For her, well, who knows. I told her to keep reading because there are many such accounts on the blog. If I had time to round up some of the better ones, I’d do it, but I’m just about to leave on my trip, so I can’t. There’s only 696 posts on the blog. It’s Saturday. What else is she going to do? Besides change her underwear every half hour, I mean.

Yesterday was awful. I had the trainer at 7:00 and it was the worst session since I started going. Even worse than the first few when I was certain death was descending upon me. I struggled through that and the rest of the day, slogging zombie-like though meetings and the young one’s choir concert until bedtime. As exhausted as I was, it was our last night together for two weeks. The penis was out. I was super horny. I had high hopes that she’d let me come. Unfortunately, I was grumpy.

Of course, it had been nearly 40 hours since I last slept, so the random bullshit of life was annoying me and Belle was spending a lot of time doing small things elsewhere while I was thinking about using toothpicks to keep my eyelids open. By the time she got to bed, my tone was decidedly un-bunny-like. Thankfully, she persisted until I snapped out of it. Going to bed mad that night would have created very bad juju indeed.

After some talking about my trip and a few other things (like my friend, whose new insight into our relationship she didn’t know about until then), she pulled up her top and told me I could give her an orgasm. I rubbed my face against her breasts in my sleep-deprived stupor, feeling her nipples graze against my nose and lips. Heaven.

“How do you want to come?” I asked dreamily.

“In the usual manner.”

“The penis is right here,” I pushed its hardness against her thigh to help demonstrate its proximity and preparedness.

“I know.”

“…” Gah!

“I’ve come to appreciate your other talents.”

So that’s that then. I was there, hard and unlocked, with my wife whose historical preferences strongly leaned toward penetrative pleasure, and she was choosing my fingers. My built-in equipment was redundant and not preferred.

“And you’re not going to come.”

“I’m not?”

“Nope. And I don’t want you coming while you’re gone.”

“Oh. I was sure you were going to let me come tonight.”

“I know.”

So then I got her off. The penis was throbbing but the best it got was rubbing up against her leg while my fingers danced across her clitoris and my tongue flicked across her nipple. It was painful. As her desire rose and her hips moved against my hand, palpable sensory phantoms of the penis sinking into her hot wetness flashed like bombs in my head. I wanted in her so bad. I wanted to fuck. The craving for an orgasm was ringing though me. The lizard of my sexuality roared in its cage but the rabbit was in control and, though sweating profusely, made sure I performed my part of our sexual dynamic so that Belle’s satisfaction was maximized.

After she came and while she was basking in the afterglow, I moaned pitifully with the stupid stiff penis quivering against her.

“That’s not going to move me, you know.”

“I really want to be inside you. I really want to come.”

“You’re not going to.”

After a few quiet moments, she got up to use the bathroom and left me to clutch the unnecessary hardness. I laid across the warmth of the spot where she just came trying to catch any lingering energy she may have left behind.

“Move over.”

I did and then moved back, clutching her from behind and holding her and smelling her and needing her.

“I don’t want to you staying up all night tomorrow looking at porn. You need to rest before your long drive.”

“But I like porn.”

“I know.”

I pressed into her more intently. Jesus god, the desire was incredible within me.

“You can stay there as long as you’re not annoying. If you don’t behave, I’m sending you to the other side of the bed.”

I stopped squirming as best I could. We laid there, breathing together. I was still raging inside, but the massive bulk of sleeplessness was crushing my desires, compressing them into diamonds.

“Thank you, Belle Fille. Thank you for giving me what I need instead of what I ask for.”

“I know you, Thumpie. Good night.”

“Good night.”

And I slept.

So anyway, we spent a lot of time taking about our personal lives and how they’ve evolved over the years. Both of us happened to fall in love with married people at about the same time, though the outcomes were very different, so there was much catching up and comparing of experiences. Also, after I first moved to this city, I wrote a lot. I did this because I was an angst-filled youth in a new town with no friends and not even a TV. There was time, so I wrote. Not unlike how I write now, but that was all fiction while none of this is. I used to send it to her to read back then. This was, of course, before the internet. We’re talking wood pulp marked with petroleum-based ink being manhandled by government workers.

In any event, she asked me a couple times if I still wrote and I gave sort of mumbling noncommittal answers. She even suggested I was writing in secret which was either very perceptive or a lucky guess, but she eventually pressed me by saying, “You don’t even have a blog or anything?”

“Oh, I have a blog.” What? How are you going to explain this, bunny boy?

I guess I thought I’d just say it was secret and leave it at that, but over the years we had shared very personal details about ourselves and she was having none of it. She wanted to know what it was about and why was it a secret. I told her it was started immediately after Belle and I had issues in our marriage and it detailed our relationship. She pressed some more. I said it also described my evolving sexuality. She said she knew I was queer and I said there’s a lot more to sexuality than gender preferences. Finally, I told her reading the blog was not unlike cracking open my head and peering into the most intimate and private part of my brain. And that there were explicit pictures. Of me.

She was perturbed. She felt I was keeping it a secret, even then, because I didn’t have faith in her and didn’t think she could handle what she saw there. I tried to explain that it was not that at all. That not everyone wants to know the kinds of things I say here about the people they associate with. I have many friends whose sex life I’m not even remotely interested in and frankly don’t want to hear about. My reticence in divulging the blog and its contents were out of respect for her right not to know everything about me. But she wasn’t buying it. Then I got nervous.

It’s not that this blog is embarrassing to me. It’s not. Really. This is who I am and I have no issues with it, but there are only two people I know of who know me personally who also know about this blog (and I’m married to one of them). Widening that circle is sort of a big deal. Also, it’s not just about me. Belle’s in here, too. At this point, I maintain my secret identity mostly out of respect for her.

In the end, I spilled my guts. Everything. We discussed my perversions, we discussed the relationship dynamic, we talked hardware, she knows I haven’t come in a month. The sky did not fall. There were many questions and I was forthcoming with answers to them all. We have very different life perspectives, but we respect one another and (I assume) her opinion of me is safe (but there are almost 700 posts here for her to read, so we’ll see how that goes).

So now there are three people who know (you know, not counting the teeming horde of you guys who come and read my drivel).

Previous HNThumpers here. Read all about Half-Nekkid Thursday over at Osbasso’s.

Being out and totally unencumbered is an odd feeling after sporting steel for so long. I’ve said in the past how it seems to fuse to my body and become part of it as opposed to a separate object. At least, that’s how it feels when I’m in the right place and enjoying it. Being out this morning left me feeling…well, naked. As I was putting the Steelheart away, I found an old three piece triple cock ring (kind of like this one) and decided to put it on. It’s not a long term item since the ring that goes around the penis shaft is just a little too small when the penis gets stiff, but it felt better having some metal around me (even if popping my nuts through the rings caused nuclear powered winces).

Getting dressed, I decided to go commando. It’s a treat I don’t often get with the device because it needs some support. I find freeballing for too long causes irritation around the ring, but I wasn’t wearing heavy steel today so I went for it. The unexpected consequence was a riot of sensation where there’s usually very little. The cock ring makes the penis sit up and out more than it would normally and that in turn causes it come into more frequent contact with the inside of my jeans. Along with the penis’ newly hatched sensitivity after three weeks in the tube, walking around has become an invigorating activity, to say the least, and has made me thankful for my untucked shirttails.

In any event, before she left, Belle gave me access to her snatch and the activity left me feeling pretty charged up to put it mildly. After she came, I was laying against her, my leg over hers, grinding the device into her thigh and softly moaning/whining.

“That’s what I like to hear,” she said lazily.

Desperation. My nuts ached and I told her but she only said that’s how they were supposed to feel. I’m not sure the penis ever got soft before I eventually fell asleep. Then she left on her quick trip leaving me to drip. Sunday night, I tended the porn farm late into the night and had a very difficult time sleeping. Last night, not quite so bad but the penis is waking me frequently. I’m in Tumblr overload trying to load up the queue before I leave. Not sure I can get two weeks worth in there to post automatically while I’m gone, but I’m trying.

Here at the blog, things are likely to be pretty quiet for a bit. I have an HNT set up, but unless I need to post again before I leave, it’ll be almost June before I can get back to it.

And I’m thinking…really? Cambridge scientists? If you follow the ad, it’s trying to sell you some kind of testosterone boosting supplement. Whatever.

I got all the supplement I need right here…

Yes, I am grabbing my crotch when I say that.

Previous HNThumpers here. Read all about Half-Nekkid Thursday over at Osbasso’s.

KLANK

The bar hit the device. Lined up perfectly. Fuck. Rep number two. Be careful.

KLANK

Goddamn it! Number three.

clink

That’s better. After that, I figured out how to change my stance so my leg took the hit and not the tube. No idea if the trainer heard the noise or thought anything of it.

Later in the session, he had me doing a Superman. That’s where you lay on your stomach and pull your legs, arms and chest off the ground, holding them up and out. Like Superman flying. Anyway, new mats today. These are like thin memory foam. After the exercise, I stood up and saw a perfect impression of the Steelheart’s lock and tube pressed into the mat. Like a fucking picture. I stood on it for a few seconds, feigning a rest, until I figured my footprint had crushed the bas relief out of the foam.

It’s almost a given that, sooner or later, this dude’s going to bust me.

She fell asleep stroking the hair in my armpit. I fell asleep somewhat later, still thrumming and happy to have her there with me.

[I]s teasing really on the same level as put-it-in-her-pussy-and-blow-your-load sex??  I guess everyone has to answer that question for themself.  For me, at this stage in my life, it’s better.  Way better.  The daily fondling of my balls as my cock throbs in its cage, or experiencing frequent blow jobs that end just a nanosecond before it’s too late, is miles ahead of a “not tonight, dear” and a quick kiss before rolling over to go to sleep.  And the bonus is that I wake up as horny as a goat every morning!  No post-orgasm refractory period.  Best of all, there has been a steep rise in intimacy between Mrs. H.  We get along better, kiss more passionately, cuddle more, and she offers me her magnificent tits to fondle way more often…

Yes! That’s it exactly. I don’t suppose it’s possible for someone who hasn’t lived like that to understand, but being brought to the point of orgasm over and over and then staying there for a long time is way more enjoyable (for some of us) than going all the way to squirtsville. But why? And if it’s so obvious, why doesn’t the whole world practice orgasm denial?

I think some of the answer is earlier in Harry’s post where he mentions his age. It’s not universally true, but it does seem like most couples doing this are in their forties or later. Most have been married a while. Not all. Most (if, at least, the blogs and forum comments are to be believed). The problems in our marriage were evident, but I didn’t realize how much my libedo had changed prior to being denied. According to the internets, this process can start for men as early as their twenties, but usually begins in their thirties. I recall being in my late teens and fucking like an absolute rabbit (hence the nickname). One day, my girlfriend and I had sex like six times. I remember how bad it hurt just to come (and how it was all muscle flexing and no ejaculation by that point). It was, in a word, awesome. Who doesn’t want to feel like that?

I don’t know how it is for women, but a man’s constant companion from puberty on is his sex drive. It becomes part of a guy’s identity. It helps produce (or is the product of) high levels of hormone. Testosterone is like a wonder drug. Having it means feeling alive. Not having it means feeling old. So, in a way, denial of orgasm is a way to at least feel like you did in your teens and twenties. It makes you young again.

Layer on top of that how it can rejuvenate a relationship. The denier can become the center of the denied’s universe. If, as Harry points out, the one being denied is only being denied orgasm, not the affections of the denier and not other sexual stimulation that in that past might have ended with mutual orgasm. I can’t recall where I read it, but I recently saw someone again use the word “celibacy” to describe a denied man’s condition. No! A thousand times, no. Locking up a dude and then making him celibate is like a fucking prison sentence. Locking up a dude and then teasing him unmercilessly is heaven.

Which gets back to the point Harry made that I agreed with so much. The one that can be controversial even in the community of orgasm denied men. The one that, in a way, punctures the premise of so many wank stories. Being teased and left wanting orgasm is actually better than fucking and being allowed to come. Being denied is the point of the exercise. It makes you feel like a kid again. It makes you desire your partner more. It can make any number of things better. Orgasm is fantastic for about 6.2 seconds, but when it’s done, you’re human again. You can lose interest in sex. It can remind you that you’re getting old. It’s kinda like kryptonite.

I’m sure I’ve said things here that will annoy some. I’m sure to some I sound crazy or too strident or…I don’t know. Too something. I’m not saying (and have never really believed) that living with orgasm denial is the One True Way. But is it a way with some fantastic benefits. I think the world would be a better place if more couples tried it.

Knowing what I (and, apparently, Harry) know now, I’d never want to go back to living permanently with free orgasms again. They’re just not worth it.

So yeah, I decided I’d get out but that I’d put the locking cock ring on instead. I had the key in a pants pocket though I couldn’t remember exactly which pants it was. I went to the pair hanging on the back of the bathroom door. Nope. No key. Hmm. I was pretty sure that’s where it was. Then I went to the pair of jeans I had on a few days earlier. Not there. I dug into the hamper and checked yet another pair of jeans. No dice.

I admit I experienced a brief flash of panic. We have several locks and I used the first one that plopped out of the little silky bag Belle keeps them in. It had just the one key which meant the spare was likely the emergency key in the little steel key safe she lets me carry just in case, but until I popped the seal I couldn’t be sure. In the time it took me to get to the drawer where the spare lived, I wondered if this particular lock only had one key now. I know we thought we lost a key at one point. That’s why we have more than one lock.

Crisis averted. The spare was to the lock in the device. Then, today, I found Belle’s key deep in the pocket of the first pair of pants I checked in the first place. We have a full set of keys again.

A little while back, I bought a bunch of little numbered blue plastic key safe seals. I had been thinking for a while that since Belle doesn’t ever check the numbers being used and that I had the all the extras I could, conceivably, cheat by popping the spare whenever I wanted to and locking it back up again afterward. I thought giving the seals to Belle was a better idea, but she hides everything within a two square foot space (except for the key which she usually has with her all the time) so they weren’t exactly out of reach to me. I think I have a better idea, anyway.

Off to the right of this post in the blog’s sidebar I have placed a log of the seals used (including the current one). As they get broken, I’ll record the date and reason plus add the new one’s number to the top of the list. I’ve went back a few since it was pretty easy to do so, but obviously we’ve gone through more than the three currently listed. It seems to me this is the most secure way to deal with the spare since the number of the current seal is essentially public knowledge.

In any event, in the few hours I was out prior to going to the trainer I was as weak as ever and took full advantage of the situation. The cock ring, of course, does nothing to keep my hands off the penis so there it was. Minutes before I had to leave for the gym, I ended up giving myself a very productive ruined orgasm. I know it was ruined because even as the creamy goo was shooting into my hand I was thinking how fine it would feel sitting in my mouth being swished around by my tongue. There was a ton of the stuff and it covered my palm and got in between my fingers and I licked every bit of it clean. Even the few extra drops I milked out afterward. I savored it in all its slimy glory and swallowed it in a thick gulp.

I have mentioned before that my main trainer is a massive West African dude. He’s nearly a foot taller than my six feet. I can appreciate the fact that he’s a fine specimen of the human species, but I have to admit I don’t find him all that sexually interesting. He’s simply not my type. The only thing about him that kind of transfixes me is that I can sometimes totally see his dick when he’s wearing the right stretchy pants. Not surprisingly, since everything else about him is large, his cock looks pretty big. In its flaccid state (obviously), it appears to be at least four or five inches long as it gracefully arches downward. Some days, I can even tell he’s circumcised. I know that flaccid length is not necessarily relevant to erect length, but still. Chances are good he’s near the top of the bell curve.

Anyway, the reason I tell you all this is because yesterday he had me laying on a bench on my back doing chest presses. It was my third set and he’d kicked up the weight pretty high (for me, anyway). He was standing close to me in order to spot the weight in case it turned out to be too much for me and as I started to lift it, my right hand – I am certain – brushed against his cock. It’s bad enough that he’s walking around showing everyone his dick, it’s worse when one of his clients is as fucking horned up as I am and actually gets to touch the damned thing. I know the contact was purely accidental. He stepped back a bit and I kept lifting, though I was replaying the brief sensory input over and over as I completed the set.

Once I got home I went into the bathroom and put the device back on as quickly as possible. I didn’t think, I didn’t touch, I just locked it all back up. Belle gets home on Thursday. I wish there was some way for me to get rid of the key until then. Things are just so much simpler when I have zero control over penis access.

Have you ever thought you might have an intimacy or sexual disorder?  I read some of your blog and it seems that there are some issue you have that I used to have quite a bit.  I am not judging you because I have been where you are, I am simply stating that IF you would like true freedom and true happiness, THEN there is help for all of us!  Good luck!

I read that and went, “Hmmmm.”

Castimonia has an eponymous blog upon which I found the following on their about page:

Castimonia is a Christ-centered 12-Step Support and Recovery program for sexual impurity or sexual addiction with the goal to achieve a Biblically-based sexual purity. We share our experience, strength, and hope with each other so that we may achieve sexual purity and help others overcome sexual impurity or compulsive sexual behaviors.

Although we believe Jesus Christ is our Lord and Savior, Christianity is not a requirement for attending meetings or working the 12-step program. We are open to any group or denomination. The only requirement for attendance and participation is the desire to stop compulsive sexual behavior and reach sexual purity.

And:

Every man struggles with some level of sexual purity.  This group is designed to help men who struggle with sexual purity, particularly in the following areas:

• Sexually immoral thought life
• Pornography
• Sexual acting out such as self-gratification, using prostitutes, frequenting sexually oriented businesses, or adult bookstores
• Adultery

If you are dealing with any of these kinds of struggles then you have found the right place.

I gotta tell you, that term “sexual purity” makes my skin crawl.

Yes, Castimonia, I once did think there was something wrong with me. I was ashamed and tried to hide how I was. I resisted the feelings that came from within me until I couldn’t any longer and then felt deep guilt and self-loathing once I indulged my desires. It wasn’t until I embraced those desires that I felt good. Once I admitted who I was to myself and my partner, a great weight was lifted. Your path, based on an interpretation of a corrupted mythology originating thousands of years ago, leads to self-hatered and mental anguish. Wrap it in whatever platitudes you like, it’s the same old anti-sex anti-human bullshit that’s made generations of people hate themselves and hate others who won’t do the same.

I have no use for you, no use for your belief system, and no use for your concern for me. Please go peddle your bile elsewhere.

Last night, after all the offspring where sequestered for the evening, I had every intention of going to bed as I was tired. The intentions evaporated, though, when I spent a few minutes curating The Portfolio (and it’s little brother). Tumblr led to Literotica and it’s wonderfully implemented story tags where you can mix and match perversions to your heart’s content. Many words were read. That led me to bring out the njoy Pure Plug 2.o and my six pinchy things.

Of the pinchy things, I chose the two most vicious: the alligator clips and the pervertable Old Navy clips. It was one of those nights where there was no such thing as too much pain and suffering. Starting with the alligators affixed to the very end of my nips, I graduated to the badass Old Navy clips and then to both. At the same time. In fact, the gators and two different sets of the Old Navy clips. That’s three clips simultaneously chewing on my nipples. Nipples are funny old things in that they’re so incredibly sensitive yet can stand up to a withering amount of abuse. In general, my nipples are a little larger and bit chubbier than average so there’s plenty of surface upon which to affix nasty biting things. The pain was intense and today they’re puffier than usual and hurt even when I walk (but still pink and cheerful looking). Even so, I’m constantly reaching unto my hoody when people aren’t looking and pinching them through my t-shirt. I’m quite positive I’ll be ruining them again tonight.

As for the plug, I don’t recall ever mentioning the Pure Plug 2.0 here before. It’s a wonderfully dense slug of steel with a circumference of almost 14 cm (which sounds a lot worse than it is). I adore this thing. I used it last night because I wanted to feel stuffed with the 1 1/3 pounds of metal and didn’t have the energy for anything more strenuous. Getting the thing in is harder than even Stryker’s Beast since its 2″ diameter, while shaped for insertion, is totally unforgiving. A dildo has some give. Steel does not. There’s always a half-second of feeling like I’m about to rip open as it goes in, but once it settles into place I quite often drip from the pressure on my prostate.

So there I was, dick locked, ass plugged and nipples fiercely pinched while I read all sorts of perverted things on the internet. I was out of my mind on the hormones but eventually found myself unable to keep my eyes open and I had to stop. I wistfully unclamped the throbbing pink circles of tender flesh and put their tormentors back in a black velveteen bag but decided to leave the Pure Plug where it was.

As even a casual reader of this blog knows, I really like it up the ass. I love the sensation of being penetrated and stuffed and especially like how the heavy steel of the Pure Plug shifts around inside me as I move. If I could, I’d want to be plugged all the time (sometimes) so I indulged my fantasy a bit last night. I did fall asleep even with the distraction. I woke up a few times and was reminded of the invader immediately. Reaching around and feeling where the hot steel disappeared into me brought me out of my sleep quickly, but I managed to leave it in place all night. The only downside of the Pure Plug is it’s base which has an oval ring (presumably to make handling easier) with somewhat sharp edges. After a few hours, those edges start to bite into the cheeks pressing against them.

Belle doesn’t get home for another week yet. I really want her. I want to press my face into her snatch and feel her come against my mouth. I want to smell her and suck on her tits and feel her bite my neck and squeeze my nuts. While I wait for that, though, I’ll get by with the self-abuse.

During the month out of chastity, I took up running. I have an old knee injury (which we’ll say was incurred playing varsity football but actually happened when I tripped on a pothole in an ice cream parlor’s parking lot) and I always assumed that since exercise would often make it hurt (and I can still hear it click when I move the joint) it would keep me from being able to run, but the strength I’ve gained from the personal training seems to have made it possible for me to do more than just the elliptical machine. Even though I’m stronger than I used to be, my cardio isn’t what I’d like it to be and that’s what led me to running.

Yeah, so anyway, waaaay back in last month when I started this new routine I didn’t have a bunch of steel hanging off the tender vittles. If you’re familiar with running shorts, you’ll know that they’re kinda like a swimsuit in that they have an inner liner that offers a modicum of support so your nuts aren’t bungying off your vas deferens as you jog along, but it isn’t designed to support metal or to deal with the greater inertial forces generated by a steel tube getting punched hither and yon by the nut sack pushed up behind it. What would it be like? Would it hurt? Would I even be able to do it?

As a matter of fact, I could. I ran for two miles yesterday in my Nike shorts and my German steel and am no more worse for wear. I was aware of the steel flopping back and forth but it never caused me any discomfort (some of the hills pretty well kicked my ass, though). I could sometimes hear the clinking of the PA ring inside the tube, but it was’t too apparent (and besides, who’s going to hear it besides me?). Pretty sure the tube was fairly visible through the thin fabric of the shorts, especially as the breeze pressed the material to my body, but from what I could tell, it only appeared to be a fat cock bouncing around, not a kinky sex toy (which, by the way, is how it almost always appears through clothing). I could feel the sweat running down into the tube mostly because it seemed to be cooled by the steel so a slightly air-conditioned willy is a by product of running in a Steelheart. In the end, there doesn’t appear to have been any excessive chafing or other damage done. I did lube up pretty good before I left, though. Seemed the prudent thing to do.

So there you go. One more thing you can do in a chastity device.

It’s been one month since I wrote that. One month of not wearing a chastity device and one month of essentially coming when I want. Yes, the deal was that I wasn’t supposed to come without Belle, and it started well, but I failed there. Easy access to the penis and our hiatus in other action along with her distraction by work gave my reptile brain the momentum it needed to make me think for a second or two longer during masturbation. That’s all it takes.

“Wait!”

“What?”

SPURT

I have no idea how many times I came in that month. Not as often as I would have under “normal” circumstances, but perhaps more than I have in the previous six months combined. That is, until about ten days ago. I hadn’t come in a bit and was feeling pretty horny. Instead of acting on that desire, I let it sit and grow. Then Belle told me that as soon as she gets back from the long business trip she’s currently on, I was going back in. Break over. That made me want to try to start the break in the proper state of mind. So I haven’t come now for about a week and a half. Hardly any time at all, really, but I’m feeling it.

A few days ago, after Belle had left, I was alone in the house with time on my hands. A bad combination for those who haven’t come and are trying not to. I ended up on all fours abusing myself with Mr. Stryker and his lesser cousins, locking double cocking ring in place, chain between the nipple clamps swinging. Of course, cock ring or no, I had access to the penis and worked it hard. I put some of the numbing cream on before hand but not so much that I couldn’t feel a thing. In any event, I was well and truly fucked (literally) and super horny (as you can imagine). I didn’t come, but I jerked it raw and wanted more. A lot more. There was a tickle in the back of my brain saying the break was still on. There would be few chances to come. I should take advantage of it.

The thing is, though, while it’s really hard to keep my hands off of it when I’m this turned on, I knew how I’d feel after the orgasm. Belle’s warning me of the end of the break brought me back into line and while a very rudimentary part of my brain wanted the orgasm, everything higher up didn’t. That’s what orgasm denial does to men. It sets up an internal war over the penis and orgasm. Higher brain functions at battle with lower ones and constantly the need to feel one’s hard member in hand. The higher forces had regained the advantage, though. I put the device back on.

I know where the key is, of course. Belle doesn’t have it, I do. I’m purposefully denying myself what I could have because I honestly can’t trust myself. If I take it off, I may give myself an orgasm. An orgasm I don’t want but desperately need. The key is in my bathroom drawer. I saw it last night and I caught myself fingering it before I even thought to touch it. Maybe just a short jerk, I thought. I’d even leave the ring on. It’s not like I’d really be taking it off…right?

So that’s where I am. Aching balls and a tight early morning throbbing between my legs. Pretty much right where I want to be.

To make a long story short, I’m a gay male who plays with like minded guys in BDSM and leather. I have a great group of friends and I have recently discovered long term chastity. I’m still somewhat new to the game, the longest I’ve spent locked down is about ten days. I’m currently locked into a birdcage silicone chastity device for another week long stretch. I really love the feeling of wearing a device for long periods and slowly I’m getting used to the sensation of the strap around my balls, the constriction when I start to get hard, and making it through the night without waking up every five minutes. That last one has been REALLY tough, but it does certainly get easier with time.

Here’s my question: I find that after a few days in chastity, I start to get really comfortable in the device (Most of the time I don’t even notice that I’m wearing it) but on the other hand I hit certain points in the day when I seem to experience what can only be called “intense hormone spikes”. Its like I get these sudden sensations of extreme horniness and I suddenly feel super aggressive, like I’m about to put my fist through the wall (actually I almost did that the other day…) If I can make it through these sensations for about five minutes they normally pass without incident. However it is getting harder to hide these sudden moments of hyper arousal at work and I really don’t like the way they make me feel temporarily out of control (especially when I’m with colleagues, slamming my fist into the wall for no apparent reason in front of my boss… definitely not cool.)

So would you consider these “surges” normal? And if so, any tips for how handle it, especially when you’re in a public setting?

The level of hormones we carry when we’re being denied orgasm for more than just a few hours was not part of our original design specification. We’re designed to release them at regular intervals (sometimes, very regularly). There’s an always-on stream of hormones feeding into our blood stream and, after a bit, it’s natural to expect some kind of affect.

I can relate to your surges of aggression. I’ve have them too, but usual only to the point where I want to punch the monkey, not a wall (but you know, we’re all wired a little differently). I find when I’m denied that all my emotions are closer to the surface. I have experienced palpable rushes of horniness in the most innocuous of situations. One time in particular, I can recall being in a business meeting at a client in a room with about six young attractive females (and no other men) and having to deal with the most intense images of them in various states of undress flashing though my head and right down to the penis in its cage (which, in turn, caused me to shift uncomfortably in my chair, as  you can imagine). So, in response to your final question, yes, even in a public setting. There’s nothing you can do to stop how you feel regardless of where you are.

Some people find these interruptions to be intolerable, either too difficult to deal with or too distracting or whatever, and use them as a sign that it’s time for an orgasm. I do know that eventually these things tend to level out. Sooner or later, that always-on stream of hormones starts to slack a bit and the high peaks of hormonal emotional interruptions get cut off. You body adjusts to its new reality and, in a way, you start to crave the frustrating surges. Personally, when I’m really in the zone, I can’t get enough of them. They’re like crack. But, as I say, mine don’t often manifest towards physical aggression (only self-abuse).

Here’s hoping things level out for you sooner rather than later or that you can at least learn to control yourself in front of the boss.

Another pec shot for this edition of HNThumper, including a nice shot of an identifying mole and evidence of my manscaping.

Previous HNThumpers here. Read all about Half-Nekkid Thursday over at Osbasso’s.

Apparently, my tossing woke her up. When I realized this, I started to talk to her about it. I told her that the game we play is a team sport. It requires two to work. I can’t do it by myself. Also, our relationship is enhanced by the hardware that’s attached to the penis, not defined by it. If she didn’t feel interested in engaging, then we didn’t have to do it. Indeed, “setting and forgetting” has the opposite affect on me. I didn’t feel closer to her, I felt more distant. And while I wasn’t trying to guilt her out or sound angry, I could feel myself moving in that direction.

She told me to take it off. She also told me I could come. I was simultaneously sad and excited. I couldn’t really discuss the prospect of having an orgasm rationally. My hand was even shaking. She unlocked the lock and I disassembled the steel and jerked off next to her. When I came, it was a relief. I could feel the wave of sleep-inducing chemicals wash out of my brain. After wiping the goo from my body, I found sleep.

The next morning, she wanted to fool around. Surprisingly, I had it in me. I offered to let her come by riding the stiff penis, but she opted for the usual fingering. She said she’s been “trained” to want it that way. Funny. We’ve both been trained. After she came, I fucked her to completion. Two orgasms in less than six hours. The decadence.

We’re not on a total break. I’m not allowed to come without her, but I’m not sure if that means there’s any limit to how often I can come as long as she’s there. Even though I’d done it twice in the past day or so, I want it again. I’d be doing it right now except she’s not home. The device will be off for at least two weeks since we leave next Saturday for our Spring vacation.

In any event, things might get a little quiet around here for a while. I’ve got some HNT queued up for Thursday, but other than that, I’m not sure what else I’ll have to talk about.

Thanks for a great website.  I am about to start a long time in a CB-6000 with PA cable on Thursday.

I do have an odd question for you….

I need to wear an athletic cup for sparing in martial arts.  I know I can get the cup over the device but I suspect if I actually get kicked, the device and cup will work together to rack my balls badly.  Any advice on this?  (I wear the cup to prevent damage to my balls… I can handle some pain… I THINK!)

I know for a fact that one can wear these devices during physical activities, but I wouldn’t wear one while participating in a contact sport. A device ties all the squishy bits together in a way they weren’t designed so that as one part moves in one direction during a hit and another part might move in an opposite direction, they’re forced to move together and that might be bad. Especially if you’ve got a cable running through the whole set up that fixes the end of your penis in place with a ring that’s been punched through your urethra. Man. I get creeped out just thinking about it.

The cup might offer some measure of protection, I suppose, but if it’s like ones I’ve worn there won’t be much room in it for all the extra plastic. If it were me, I’d figure out a way to take it off while kicking and being kicked.

I have recently found your blog about male chastity, actually, I have recently found out about male chastity.  I have been looking for a way to spice up my marriage a little.  I have been married to a great wife for 14 years now, 3 kids and the spice is not what it used to be.  We are both just starting to get back into wanting sex more.  Although, she likes missionary only.

I am researching this as much as I can and like to talk with normal people that are doing this and what I can learn from them. Bringing this up to her and getting her to go along with this will be difficult, so wondering if you have any suggestions.

If you’re asking about how to approach her, I’m not a very good resource. I don’t really have a strategy because when I first found out about enforced chastity I immediately shared it with Belle and we were on our way. We were in a particular place in our relationship where I felt comfortable sharing this interest with her. The best advice I have would be to explain that normal people really do do this. Really. Yes, it’s kinky, but not like taped up hamsters. It’s pretty tame, actually.

If you’re looking for things to share with her, I more or less think Sarah Jameson’s stuff is pretty good. That’s not a bad place to start. She puts things in a way that might appeal to the average woman and, as long as you can see through her submissive male bigotry, is reasonably practical. Obviously, I think the stuff Tom’s written is another great resource. Belle in particular has appreciated his point of view. Don’t forget Dev, either! I also think the gang over at the Chastity Forums are pretty levelheaded. That’s another good place for you to go as you figure out a strategy on how to move forward with your wife. Finally, I’m asking others to add their two bits and/or links in the comments. I know there are smart people reading this who could help.

Good luck!

I read your blog because you are an honest writer.  You don’t pull punches or shy away from topics that um, well might embarrass others.  However, having said that, you may not want to tackle the subject I am about so ask you to write about, because it’s so full of emotional, political, and even religious focus.  The subject is homosexuality versus bisexuality. I have commented before that I find the idea of gay male sex a real turn on, but I have never felt a “man crush” for any man. Conversely, I have had many a crush on woman that don’t physically turn me on.

I also am one of the many guys that finds lesbian sex a huge turn on, but other then the fact that its usually two very attractive woman doing things that I like to do with a woman, I don’t know why it turns me on.  Just watching two beautiful women kiss drives me crazy.  And although two guys can talk about lesbian sex with zero social stigma, you rarely hear two guys talk about gay male sex.  Kind of a double standard there, I think.

So, that double standard got me to thinking that bi-sexuality might not have the “falling in love crush” attached to it, but rather is simply physical pleasure derived from both the physical act and the “taboo” nature of the act. (not unlike anal sex for some). The hardcore homosexual organizations talk about bisexuals as a cop out or as an out right denial of sexual identity.  And mostly they take this position for political reasons.  They seem to be saying “We’ve worked so hard to get our rights established in the law, we don’t want any of you fence sitters screwing it up, come out or shut up.”  That’s why I think that bisexuals get this horrible rap of being confused or closet homosexuals. I call bullshit on that. I’m not confused, I like the same kind of sex that homosexuals do.  I just don’t feel like I could fall in love with someone and have a “pair bonded” relationship with them.  Thank god there is strap-on sex…the closes thing I’ll ever get to gay male sex!

Help me explain this better can you?

I spent many years of my life essentially paralyzed by my seemingly contradictory impulses with regard to sex. I kept trying to find a paradigm I could fit myself into and it just wasn’t there. By the time I decided to stop obsessing and get on with things, I was approaching thirty. I lost most of my twenties, sexually speaking. It is a waste of fucking time.

Fact is, people are going to feel how they’re going to feel. Kinsey nailed it back in the Forties with his scale. Human sexuality is a fluid continuum that simply cannot be diced into orderly blocks to suit anyone’s moral preferences. We are all born this way, to one degree or another, as are many other animals. There is no right answer and its society’s problem that this isn’t recognized and accepted, not ours.

I’ve recently started reading a book called Straight: The Surprisingly Short History of Heterosexuality. Here’s a snippet from the Amazon description:

Like the typewriter and the light bulb, the heterosexual was invented in the 1860s and swiftly and permanently transformed Western culture. The idea of “the heterosexual” was unprecedented. After all, men and women had been having sex, marrying, building families, and sometimes even falling in love for millennia without having any special name for their emotions or acts. Yet, within half a century, “heterosexual” had become a byword for “normal,” enshrined in law, medicine, psychiatry, and the media as a new gold standard for human experience.

I recommend you check it out! It’s an eye-opener.

The following came from a comment to another post.

This is from http://chastewench.blogspot.com/ and has nothing to do with your recent post, but it does describe my exact situation and I hate it! Any suggestions you might have that would smooth out the ups and downs?

Rollercoster

Various blogs suggest that the way to motivate a man is to keep him desperate. It’s so scarily true.

A few days of tease and denial and I’m ready to do anything the Empress of my cock says. Yet once I’m sated it’s difficult to relate to why I was so malleable and so desperate to be dominated. It’s like looking at another person, one you don’t quite get, and finding yourself a little shocked by their antics. Thinking ‘was that really me?’

The peculiar thing is the more I’m denied, and the nastier she is, the more I crave submission, discipline, humiliation, abuse, pain. The desire to be dominated builds and builds. The constant forfeit of control and state of excitement is so addictive. Crazy as it sounds it’s almost as if the more she denies me the more a part of me wants it to continue. The more I sink into submission.

Then she lets me cum and then buzz is gone. I’m left bemused, shaking my head at my own behaviour. Having to remind myself that I signed a contract, try to rationalise putting the chastity belt back on, when I no longer really want to be locked away, I’m no longer in the mood. Then with a snap of the lock the ride starts all over again.

So, so familiar with that particular ride, as would be anyone who’s found themselves locked up for more than a single play session. It gets to the question of what is a true submissive. If one only feels that way after being denied (or feels it much more strongly), then is that person a real sub? Honestly, I leave that question to others to decide. For Chaste Wench and for me and for many others (maybe even you), we like that eventual feeling of profound submission. The part where you can’t get enough of whatever she’s dishing out. As far as I’m concerned, you need at least a seed of submission in you somewhere for it to grow, but really, if it feels good, who cares?.

The cratering of desire for all this chastity play after orgasm can’t be helped (assuming it’s a pleasurable orgasm). It’s chemical. Once you come and the brain releases its happy juice into your bloodstream, it snuffs out the other chemicals that drive the need to be locked and disciplined and abused. There really is no way around it, other than either always ruining the guy’s orgasm or never ever letting him have another (which is rife with its own set of issues). After the spurt, you feel kind of embarrassed for ever wanting to wear the thing in the first place and wonder what all the hubbub was about. If you have a blog like this one, you go back and read things that, even though you wrote them, you have a hard time feeling.

Personally, my advice would be to enjoy the ride. When it’s up, it’s the best fucking thing in the word (or at least feels that way). When it’s down, you simply need to take solace in the fact that, given time and a secure device, all will feel right in the world eventually. For me, assuming it’s just one orgasm, that’s about 2-3 days. Hardly any time at all!

Good plan, but somehow the steel was off about three minutes after my last image proving the penis was secured the entire time I was gone had been posted. My concern over temptation was well founded. I ended up jacking it in the shower, after I dried off, while getting dressed, and even in the airplane bathroom at 35,000 feet. I never came, but my underwear was well crusted by the time I got home. Copious leakage.

As soon as I got in the door at home, I retrieved the Steelheart Short from my checked bag, disassembled it, pulled down my semen-stained underwear, and locked the damnedable meat back into its prison. It’s not that I wanted to be bad (relatively, of course – it wasn’t as bad as that other time I was in a hotel by myself), it’s more like I had no choice. I don’t recall making the conscious decision to do any of it. It just happened. The device was off and my hand was wrapped around the stiffy and pulling like crazy. I was able to back off before orgasm because actually coming now it a hard line for me and enough to make me stop, but each time I’d tell myself to stop and focus on the task at hand only to find that task was in my hand and getting worked over. In any event, it’s secure once again. And while I can feel the flickering remnants of the desire to hold its hardness deep inside me, the stainless steel is helping to push that urge further and further away.

As I was snapping the new numbered lock into the keysafe (1871222, in case you’re keeping score at home), I realized I had a whole baggie full of the things and Belle never pays attention to the number currently in use. Theoretically, I could pop the lock and use the key for nefarious purposes and lock everything back up again without anyone being the wiser. Really, I should only ever have the one plastic lock at a time. The rest shouldn’t be in my possession. I’m giving her the baggie as soon as she comes home.

The other thing that dawned on my today is that I have no idea how long it’s been since I came. None at all. I could go back and figure it out with the blog, but I’m not going to. It hasn’t been a really long time, but it’s been long enough that I’m super fucking horny (Did I mention I took a few nipple clamps with me on my trip? My nips still ache.). Belle’s always said she doesn’t like to count the days like I do so I’m doing my best not to think too hard on it and count them. I shall be blissfully unaware and focus on things that matter. My orgasms are pretty far down that list.

In any event, Belle told me she wanted the penis locked up for the entire time I’m here. I double (and triple and quadruple) checked to make sure, but yes, that’s the state in which she prefers the meat. I got to the hotel about 15 minutes ago and have just secured her property.

I was surprised when she let me out last night. I didn’t expect that until this morning. I had a hard time going to sleep last night with the very apparently unlocked penis and her hand wrapped far too gently around it. Had she left it secured, I would have fallen asleep easily. But once it got out, it was all I could think about. I liked that she was touching it, of course, but as I said, her hand was just barely grasping it and even if I moved my hips I couldn’t get any good sensation out of the situation. I’m pretty sure it was still hard when I fell asleep.

Getting the device back on in the hotel was tricky. I have been very good and didn’t do anything with it since last night (even in the shower this morning) that I didn’t have permission to do. Being by myself in a hotel and getting stared down by its one good eye made putting the cold steel back on very difficult. I can tell how long it’s been since I last came by how hard it was getting the testicles through the A-ring (especially the right one). After they popped through with a couple of winces, the penis was starting to stir and was chubbed out to about 60% when the tube went over the end of it. I pushed and shoved until the two posts found their home in the ring and kept squeezing the two parts together until the lock was able to slide in and close. As I write this, the shaft is burning as it adjusts to its confinement and shifts back to its natural position.

The key is secured in its little holder, numbered lock in place. I’ve posted a picture of both the penis and the key after the jump (with regard to the shoving and pushing, you can actually see the skin kind of bulging out around the tube opening in the picture). I will add another picture of the key each day to this post to prove that I’m being good. I don’t leave until Tuesday morning, but I’ll have to post another then to show that I was as faithful to Belle’s wishes as I could be.

Day One

Day Two

Day Three

Day Four

Also, I realize the sequence of images I’ve included here could leave some doubt as to whether I’m really locked up, so here’s a spot check of the penis’ condition.

Day Five

Today, I get to pop the key and take the device off for the trip home. Here’s an exchange between Belle and I from last night when I called her…

Me: I get home tomorrow.
Her: Yes, you do.
Me: I get out tomorrow, too.
Her: Yeah. Well, at least for a few hours.

It won’t be off too long.

I was wondering you thoughts on Mature Metal’s Jailbird outfitted with one of the anti-pullout pins (maybe even a second base ring) vs. a Steelheart with the penisring (http://steelworxx.de/Penisring-51p.html).

I know without a PA piercing the inescapable trapped ball device doesn’t exist, but I want to get as close as possible. I have seen mixed reviews on MM’s anti-pullout pins but I’ve seen absolutely nothing about Steelworxx’s penisring. Frankly, I don’t see how the ring would stay on when flaccid but I’m still curious about it.

I am currently locked in a Birdlocked Mini, my first device, and am looking to purchase my next device… one of the above hopefully. Since you are coming from a place of experience I would love your take on the two devices described above.

Both those devices work by trying to bunch up the flaccid penis skin making pull out more difficult, not unlike the KSD-G3 for the CB6K. The KSD is the only thing I have first-hand experience with and it does make things a bit more secure down there (and feel more secure, which may be more important since security absent a piercing is mostly in one’s head), though, of course, a few seconds of fiddling in the shower can defeat all these kinds of devices. The downside to the KSD is that it would often leave abrasions on the shaft of the penis from when it would try to become hard in the CB6K and press against it with some force. I would assume MM’s anti-pull out pins would be even more likely to do something similar. Honestly, I never liked the look of them. They seem like they’d be quite painful (and not in the good way). The Steelworxx penis ring might be somewhat more gentle, but again, I’ve never used one. I considered it back in the day, but by the time I ordered I already had the PA and didn’t need it.

I wonder if one of these guys couldn’t fashion a KSD-like insert out of stainless? I know Dietmar at Steelworxx will try anything, but the cost might be prohibitive.

Here’s another question along similar lines…

I have been reading some (not all) entries of your blog and found them very informative. I myself am into chastity play with my wife. We only started very recently (last year) and my first device was a Looker 02 from Steelworxx with the penis-plug. The plug did extend quite a bit (around 1″) through the A-Ring, so this added a lot of security.

However for various reasons I needed to be circumcised. Now the scars are healing and me and my wife will get pierced. I will get a PA and she will get a vertical hood piercing.

Since the Looker with the penis-plug is not possible with a PA and we were intrigued by the added PA-security, we plan on getting a Steelheart (or Steelheart 2) with an internal PA-fixture (the one you designed).

I hope you don’t mind me asking you a few questions since it seems you actually own and wear just that type of device.

Basically it is about measuring. I am unsure about the length of the device. When measuring for the Looker I took the total flaccid length and subtracted half an inch. This worked quite well and the tip was comfortable at the front nearly all the times. For diameter I chose the flaccid diameter plus the Plug-diameter. However this turned out to be slightly on the loose side. It was no problem and it was comfortable but there was a little space around while flaccid.

Anyway, my questions are, how do you measure the length and diameter when you have a PA? Do you need to add a bit to the length and diameter to accommodate the PA?

How far do you think you can pull the device down while wearing it. Do you fear ppl. with shorter tools than yours would be able to access the PA?

Sorry for babbling at you and I hope it is not too much trouble to share your information. But you seem to be the only source I can find

When I measured for our second Steelheart I went much shorter on the tube but added a bit to my normal flaccid length since I needed to accommodate the PA ring and the fixing. In truth, I may have added too much. In my opinion, you probably shouldn’t make it shorter than your normal flaccid length. The circumference is trickier since you also want to leave room in there for the fixing which does take some of the space up. I find the penis will sometimes knock around inside the tube I wear, but it’s often. I don’t think I’d want it any tighter. You also need to think about pinching and such. I assume that less circumference would make that more prevalent.

So, short story, keep it just a bit longer than your flaccid length and just a tad bigger around. The other thing you need to think about is the gauge of the ring. My PA accommodates 4 GA jewelry, but if I wear a ring that big while in the device I get too much pinching at the end. If I scale back to 8 GA, things are a lot better.

Regarding how much I can pull out, I can get just to the edge of the penis’s corona, but that’s it (see for yourself). You don’t need to worry about getting tools down there. It’s impossible. Even if you could somehow get the ball out of the ring, you’d never ever get it back in and would eventually get busted. There’s not nearly enough room in there to maneuver. That said, I don’t think getting the ring out is even possible. That would be an advantage of using a thicker ring since the ball would be really hard to remove without tools. Hope that helps.

Question about your Looker 02. How long were you able to wear it at a stretch? Did the urethral tube ever cause you any problems?

Question, comment or general chit-chat? Use the feedback page!

I didn’t go to a doctor, but I’m fairly certain I had a kidney stone. I woke up Friday at about 3:30 AM with a sharp and intense pain in my side just under my ribcage. It got progressively worse until we called a nurse and she said to take some Tylenol and rest comfortably. If you’ve ever had one of these evil little things, you know “resting comfortably” is outside the realm of possibility, though I was able to minimize the pain by laying still and using a hot pad. By daylight, the pain was coming and going and changing positions (moving from my side towards the front of my abdomen). I was able to get up and help get the previously sick girl off to school only to be struck by the worst pain I’ve ever felt in my whole life as soon as she left. I broke out in a cold sweat and felt like I was going to throw up. Absolutely horrid.

Then it went away. Poof. Gone. Only minor and infrequent twinges remain (some of which I was still getting yesterday). The new symptom is occasional and overwhelming urges to pee. Even when I know there’s nothing there, I have the feeling of needing to go. It’s not unlike how the prostrate will sometimes feel when I’ve been denied a long time and I know it’s all plump and ready to go, but way stronger. This, along with the pain, are classic kidney stone symptoms.

The part I haven’t had yet is the actual passing of the stone. I don’t know if it always involves pain during urination, but I’ve had nothing like that. Yet. Time will tell if I get to have the full meal deal. I suppose at some point I should go to a doctor, but from everything I’ve read, they don’t do anything about them most of the time and let them work themselves out naturally. I can do that at home and save the co-pay.

On the non-medical front, Belle and I both felt good enough on Saturday morning for some real sex. I busted out my emergency key at the hight of the barfing because the device was really, really not making me feel any better being on there (and I was about three light years from wanting to do anything with the penis anyway), but life had returned to all corners of my totally free body by Saturday. She not only let me fuck her, she let me come. It wasn’t a great orgasm (as is common after a longish denial) and I came really fast (one minute, tops) and she made me put the device back on as soon as it was over. It wasn’t unit this morning that I didn’t resent the damned thing. That magical cloaking device I was talking about last time was stone cold dead and has only started to flicker into life since I woke up this morning. Starting to get horny again. Apparently, the cloak operates on pure hormones (not antimatter like on Star Trek).

So there you are. Up to speed. Hopefully, the infirmary-like atmosphere around the house is gone for a long time.

So, this is one of those periods of time when a guy like me starts to question his predicament. I was fortunate in that there were few times in which I actually felt the “otherness” that sometimes attaches to the device. When the facade slips and my brain recognizes it for what it really is: A foreign object locked to my body. It’s the worst when it feels unnatural. That just acerbates my stewing and foul mood. For the most part, though, it’s cloaking device has worked and I’ve accepted it as part of me. Even with how it flips and flops and is constantly pulling in the opposite direction of the rest of me. Even in the morning when the nocturnal plumbing it at its maximum. It hasn’t woken me up more than just a little in days and, to the extent that it does, I simply roll over and go back to sleep feeling comforted by my constricted state.

When things are like this, when there’s no sex and it’s been more than a month since I came and my brain continues to buy into the fantasy that the penis is made of metal, I slip into this weird void space. I start to feel like this other kind of thing. A being that’s simultaneously sexless yet instantaneously aroused. Not a man. Something we don’t have a word for.

There may be some of you out there reading this with your free-range dicks getting all hard and turned on by that kind of talk, but it’s simply the most difficult thing about long term enforced chastity. Not being able to have a proper hard-on, not being able to wrap your hand around it, reaching down to find only an unfeeling mass of hot metal and a sack of fat testes as your only genitalia. Having nothing at all to do with your need for any kind of sexual release (even if its hers). When it’s bad, it’s really bad. It turns you into something you have no experience being.

And I have been feeling that lately. It’s not Belle’s fault and I don’t feel any anger at all toward her for it. It’s just how things are. Last night, though, as we watched TV in bed, things changed somehow. I actually do have experience being this way now. With a little inadvertent help from Belle, I found my way out.

It started with her hand on my ass. Sometimes, we lay in bed and I put my head on her midsection and stretch out in the opposite direction. Last night, in that position, she slipped her hand into my pajama pants and lightly stroked my ass. This kind of simple affectionate touching is like catnip to a guy in my position. It simultaneously excites and soothes my hormone addled mind. Sometimes, when we’re in bed with the Sunday paper, she strokes the hair under my arm. Same thing. I could let her do that for days. I literally can’t get enough of it.

Anyway, hand stroking ass cheek. Two hours later, it was bed time and I was really worked up. Lights out, Belle asleep, and I’m feeling sorry for myself. Not mad. Not annoyed. Just sorry. After several near misses with sleep, I realized that I wasn’t in the void space anymore. The hand on the ass had been enough to stir me and I was coasting on the sleepless wave of chastity, constantly almost asleep only to be made more alert by a momentarily filled tube reacting to a new sexual vision or the turning of my body to a new position and feeling how that made the device press into me in a different way. I was fucking horny.

On the one hand, I really wanted to sleep. I was tired, still recovering, and have an appointment with the trainer this afternoon. I need my rest. On the other, I was excited and even happy to be back in frustrated horndog mode. As annoying as it was, it’s why I do this, after all. It’s the feeling I’ve come to associate with good things. It’s my natural state.

Somehow, I eventually did fall asleep. Sometime between midnight and one o’clock. Then, awake with Belle’s alarm at quarter to six. Not much, but enough. Just happy to be out of the fog.

At best, this should be viewed as a progress shot. My recently initiated adventures in personal training have yet to bear much visible fruit, but my arms are beginning to show some results, hence this picture. It will be nice to have it as a benchmark against which to compare future developments.

Previous HNThumpers here. Read all about Half-Nekkid Thursday over at Osbasso’s.

First things first. I’m not linking to chastity.xxx because I don’t want them to see my site in their referrers (which is how I found them). If you want to see the site, you can type its URL into your browser the old fashioned way. Not that I think you should bother. It’s pointless.

Now, why do I think it’s sleazy? It’s not the way it advertises crappy chastity devices nor is it the tasteless click farm to various video porn sites (for which I assume chastity.xxx is an affiliate getting some kind of kick-back). No, it’s the fact that in the site’s main navigation, the blog link goes here and the forum link goes to Chastity Forums implying that I am somehow affiliated with the site or endorse it.

Neither is true.

If the owner of chastity.xxx is reading this, I would like you to immediately remove all links to my sites.

UPDATE: I’ve been told the owner of the site is someone who posts on Chastity Forums and is, by all accounts, a nice guy. That may be true, but I’d still appreciate having links to my sites removed. If I was listed among other sites in a blogroll kind of thing or as a resource, that’d be fine, but by linking to me from the main navigation, a relationship is suggested that simply doesn’t exist.

UPDATE 2: The links have been removed.

My Goddess and I have been keeping up with your blog for a while now.   We have a female lead relationship and have been talking of chastity (orgasm control) for some time and have looked at many device options.  It would seem that there are many views on how to correctly measure for a device and as noted many customer and non-customer makers are different in how they view there sizing.   Would you mind sharing your insight on how to measure for the most optimal sizing for extended use/wear.  :) Thank you for any insight you would be able to and or willing to share.

As I’ve said in the past, Mature Metal’s guide to measurement is, in my opinion, the way to go. I’ve had commenters here on the blog take exception with it and specifically how tight to make the A-ring, but at the end of the day, personal preference and your own physical tolerance is a big part of the puzzle. I like it when my device doesn’t feel like it’s always slipping off or that the penis could back right out any time I wanted it to (PA fixing not withstanding), so I go for a more snug fit in the ring. I do pay a price for that at night and when the penis is aroused, though. It’s not intolerable and it’s a sensation I can even become accustomed to and sleep through, but the ring, she does bite. The thing about me is, I like bondage and I like the feeling of extreme constriction and I even like the throbbing of an erection stuck in a tube less than half its size. Smaller tubes are better than big ones.

Regardless, I think MM’s tube length advice is spot-on and the right place to start.

Hey, it is me again, mike. i was having the problem with the penis head hurting but did as you suggested and removed the stealheart for a couple of days then put it back one, Have had it back on for over a week and no problems at all. So, i took the big step and yesterday gave the key to my partner and signed a six month contract. So, i will be locked up for the next six months and know He will not let me out due to He is in the Navy and heads out to sea Tuesday and will not be back till July and He took both keys and put them in His safty deposit box that i dont have access too. Wish me luck, i will need it. i’m the guy that likes to jack off a couple of times each day and it is already driving me nuts and He leaves sin two days and i’m horny as hell !

I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt and say this is totally genuine and your typos aren’t due to one-handed typing.

I’m happy you have a guy who’s willing to lock you up, but I’m not entirely sure this is a good situation for you. It’s really, really hard to be separated from your dick and not getting any attention from one’s partner (and, at the same time, not have one’s partner to pay attention to) during long-term denial. I don’t recall if this new Steelheart is the first device you’ve had or if you are an old hand at chastity, but there’s still the possibility that you’ll have fit issues you’ll need to deal with. I wouldn’t ever want to be locked into a steel device without relatively easy access to an emergency key. Can you get into his safe depot box?

That’s just me sounding like a worried mother. I get how hot the situation is now for you. I hope you still find it so in six weeks.

I love your blog.  Have you posted a copy of the Covenant you signed with Belle?

It was posted on the blog for some time, but she decided it was too much, so we simplified. Now it’s pretty much “whatever Belle says” and we leave it at that. Truth is, I got a lot more out of it than she did.

Finally, I forgot to post this last bit a while back. As usually, Tom was the more responsible of the two of us and did it when he was supposed to while I procrastinated. In any event, it seems as though my pal Dishevelled Domina is asking women who are dominant (or perhaps even those upon who the title has been foisted) to agree to be interviewed.

If you are a woman who likes to decide the how and when of sex, I have some questions for you. You needn’t consider yourself a dominatrix or even claim the title dominant woman. If you enjoy taking the lead in bed or setting the pace sexually, I’d like to know a little more about you. Female sexuality is incredibly diverse and if you are a woman who prefers to be more in control than your partner then you are the kind of gal I want! Please email me at dishevelleddomina@gmail.com

That’s all I got for now. If you have a question or comment or other morsel of communicative goodness you want to pass my way, don’t forget about the feedback page.

Of course not! Wouldn’t think of it (well, I would think of it, but that’s all). In fact, I was going to take the opportunity to put the device back on as she had instructed me. Beforehand, though, I accidentally found myself all engorged and in the wrong condition for locking. I took the opportunity to record something I don’t recall ever showing you before: A comparison of the Steelheart Short’s tube and the full erection that attempts to form within it.

I apologize for the somewhat blurry nature of these. The hot water was steaming up the lens on my phone.

Note that the A-ring was already in place which made the penis appear a bit bigger than usual, especially the head. It’s not normally quite so pronounced.

Here’s another that also demonstrates the differences in size. It was stuffed in there as far as I could get it.

As you can see, less than half the erect shaft fits inside the tube. The rest either doesn’t engorge with blood or backs up into my body behind the A-ring. Thus is the function of the modern male chastity device.

It eventually went back down and the tube was secured in place. It was actually something of a relief. Belle’s got the key again, as she should.

Previous HNThumpers here. Read all about Half-Nekkid Thursday over at Osbasso’s.

The stealthiest underwear compresses everything down and as flat to the body as possible (think about any pair of tighty whities you’ve ever worn – something like this). Necessary for certain situations and for short periods, but life’s too short to come home every day with aching wobbly bits. I’ve found that the most comfortable underwear type is something like the N2N G-string. I have several pairs of these and they provide the bare minimum of support necessary to ensure the weight of the device isn’t being fully borne by genitalia. On the other hand, their generous pouch and stretchy strings do almost nothing to hide the tube. It’s almost like going commando, so I typically reserve their use for when I’m wearing baggier pants (or feel like putting on a show).

After much trial and error, I’ve found what I think is the best balance for those wearing a device like mine. They’re the line of “natural pouch” briefs by John Sievers. They provide a modest amount of stealth while not squashing anything. After the jump, you’ll find some NSFW images and more info.

Here’s what my Steelheart looks like in this pair of briefs:

Here’s an alternate head-on view.

As you can see, the pouch is quite deep. Slipping my balls and the tube down there results in a very comforting sensation not unlike putting on a pair of well-fitting gloves. Just as with the thong, there’s a bit of support, but not so much that I feel like I’m being pushed around excessively. I now own several pairs of these and they’ve become my default underwear while sporting the device (which is pretty much all the time).

The only downside to them is when I’m not packing steel. As you can see in the image below, even with the Steelheart Short’s tube in place, I can’t fill out the pouch. When swinging freely, these underwear do a good job making the penis look fairly unimpressive. They don’t get really filled out unless I’m sporting a healthy chubby (as is the model in the comparison, I suspect, besides having the ministrations of the off-camera stylist who’s pinned/taped things just so).

Though, on the plus side of the downside, they are the first underwear I’ve owned through which it’s entirely possible to masturbate.

They’re not excessively expensive when compared to other fashion underwear and their build quality seems quite high. The first pairs I got are probably at least six months old now and show little sign of wear. They’re holding up quite nicely. In my opinion, the John Sievers natural pouch briefs are the best best chastity underwear you can buy.

I enjoy your blog and have been reading for a couple  years now.  Thanks for your insights.  My wife and I have been playing at this for the past two years and she surprised me this year by saying she wants me in a device pretty much full time for a month or two at a time.

I have a Jailbird from Mature Metal.  I’m not pierced and am skiddish about doing so.  However, the thought of being absolutely unable to get out is driving me more toward getting one.

I’ve seen some urethral inserts on some devices that would seem to also do the job of preventing pullout.  My question –  you have any experience with these and can they be worn pretty much full time?  If you don’t, do you know of a site that has reviewed these devices?

First of all, good for you and your wife! Many women seem to end up where your wife is now.

Inescapability is a heady concept. It’s one thing to be in your device because you’re being good and are choosing not to defeat it but something else entirely to know you can’t get out no matter how badly you want to. Some guys don’t need it or are too squicked out by the steps they need to take to ensure it, but others (like me) kink on it so hard they’re willing to do what’s necessary.

Of course, I don’t (yet) have experience with devices that are secured via urethral tubes. There’s much controversy about them on the forums and sites I’ve visited with some saying it’s an invitation to a urinary infection (though I can’t recall reading that anyone actually came down with one due to a device equipped with a tube). The bigger issue seems to be that some men lack the natural oils necessary to keep the tube in a state where the surrounding meat can move freely as the penis expands and contracts. I have read reports of the urethra “drying out” for some guys and sticking to the insert causing discomfort and even bleeding. This is not a universal complaint, though. There are also reports by guys with no issues whatsoever. Problem is, devices of this kind are among the most expensive and there’s only one way to find out what kind of guy you are.

Based on my experience with PA jewelry, I suspect I may have a “dry” urethra. I find that the larger rings occasionally will stick and stop moving freely so I assume an insert would do the same. It’s the main reason I haven’t tried that kind of device (when, on balance, it’s a fantastically expensive experiment).

PA security is not without issues either. There’s the occasional pinching and it takes up room in the tube (both the ring and whatever it’s secured with). But, if you’re asking for my advice, I’d get poked. The event itself is way, way less harrowing than you’re imagining (over in a jiffy and it heals relatively quickly). Once it’s done and healed up, it is, based on my experience, the best way to totally secure your meat inside a device.

That’s what my Belle Fille said to me this morning as I suckled her breast and fingered her snatch. She had let me out Friday night so the penis was perky and expectational.

But I jump ahead. It occurs to me that I haven’t posted much about our sex life recently, so I’m going to play catch up now.

About midway through January, Belle let me come. I had just been let out for “cleaning and maintenance” and she was going to tease me with a hand job. The hand job started and I was rapidly taken to the edge and she just never stopped. It wasn’t an accident. She wanted me to come. Then she wanted me to put the Steelheart back on. I wasn’t even out for half the day, but I did get cleaned out.

The next weekend, she treated me to two of her orgasms, one brought about with my fingers and the other with my mouth. Both left me hot and bothered since the one orgasm didn’t lessen my desire too much. If anything, it left it somewhat sharper.

Then she got sick. Stomach thing. Not fun. But I whined on Friday and she, in her weakened condition, let me out. Two uninterrupted nights of sleeping followed by a lazy Sunday morning adventure in bed.

So, as I was saying, I was fingering her and sucking her tits and generally enjoying her body and the penis was very pert and attentive beside her. After she came, she invited me in for the first time this year and I leapt at the opportunity. I had the heavy barbell in the PA and could feel it move  and turn in the piercing as the end of the penis came almost all the way out and then as deep as it could back in. I fucked her not like the frustrated lizard I used to be, but like the tamed bunny I am. Gently and gratefully. Enjoying the exquisite sensations of the folds of her pussy caressing the penis shaft, but not forgetting that this was a gift from her to me. It’s different when I know I can come. Then the lizard takes over. But this was not that. So I kissed her mouth and cradled her head and fucked her like I could break her if I got too carried away.

“That’s it, Thumper. Time to come out.” How long had that been? No idea. God, I wanted to come. Fuck, I wanted to stay inside her.

I thanked her and embraced her and flexed the denied penis one more time while it was still surrounded by her. Then I withdrew and fell back beside her. The penis, still thick with desire and slick from her juices, slapped wetly agains my leg. I gripped it. Squeezed it. Pushed my baser instincts back into their cave.

“I want you back in by the end of the day.”

And so I am.

i saw your steelheart blog and decided to get one. Got it last week and love it. But i have had it one for two days now and i seem to hur just a bit near head of penis and pa ring, did this happen too you. If so did it go away after a few days. i really want to keep it on and dont want my partner to take it off for a while so please let me know what you think. i found you on facebook and sent you a message there also. i just sent my email to follow your blogs. Enjoy reading them. Thanks, mike

Is it like a rubbed raw kind of thing? That can happen from time to time. The last time I had that problem it was because I was wearing the larger of the two A-rings we have which caused the tube to sit a little lower and rub a part of the penis it usually didn’t.

You need to take to a new device slowly. I know how much you want to keep it on right now, but you also need to listen to your body and let it adjust. Ignoring those signals will cause you more pain and a longer time out to recuperate. My advice: Take it off for a day or two until the part that hurts stops hurting, then put it back on. Eventually, your dick will accept its fate.

What i don’t realize is in fact how you are no longer actually a lot more well-appreciated than you may be now. You’re very intelligent. You realize thus significantly when it comes to this topic, made me personally consider it from so many numerous angles. Its like women and men are not fascinated until it is something to do with Lady gaga! Your personal stuffs great. Always handle it up!

It depresses me to think someone might read that and think it’s real.

Ive been reading your blog on and off again for a couple years now.  Great reading.

A question for the steelheart: does your pa ever get caught between the tube and the retaining bar?

I’ve owned a cb3k and switched to the 6k a while back. I have the security cable from keptforher and when I used as instructed, it caused some bleeding from my pa not being able to move when flaccidity set in. So I thought, put the cable in the inside. Works okay, but as the ring rides the cable down and I get hard again, sometimes it will catch around mid tube and as I keep growing it can be painful. Lately I’ve just been putting on more lube and it works.

I’ve had my eye on the steelheart when i read about it on your blog. Wife loves the look of it. Just haven’t taken the leap to buying one. Don’t want the back and forth to Germany if something goes wrong.

Thanks for the blog. Insightful.

Short answer, yes, there is occasional pinching. Since I can’t see what’s going on in there, my guess is that some portion of foreskin remnant and/or the little strip of meat between the PA and penis slit get’s trapped between the bar and the tube wall. This is most annoying in the early AM hours since it’s all too compressed to do anything about, but when the internals are depressurized, usually all it takes is a pull and a twist (in one direction or the other) to sort things out.

My experience with cables is much the same as yours, though I never bled. I also experimented extensively with different types of cables and varying lengths and even putting it inside, but it was never good. I think the biggest diference between the cable inside a CB6K and the bar inside the Steelheart is that there’s just more room in the Steelheart tube. It’s cylindrical rather than oval and things can move around in it more easily. As you’ve found, the ability for it to move along the fixing and not be stuck at the end of the tube is critical.

The going back to Germany thing is a pain, but the end result is really worth is. You may want to consider Mature Metal if you’re concerned about the back and forth, though they don’t have a model equivalent to the Steelheart. Which is a nice segue to the next question…

I’ve been following your blog for some time, and am using the CB3000. I do feel like swapping out to the steelheart like yourself.

Should I base the dimensions on my CB3000 fit? I’m not sure if I make it too small, and when my buddy turns super horny?

Can you give me some suggestions?

If you haven’t already read Steelheart vs. CB-6000, you should. There’s all kinds of stuff in there for people in your position.

I ordered my original SH according to my CB6K fitting and it turned out way too big. Both the A-ring and the tube. I eventually got a smaller ring that would have been nearly impossible to wear had it been multipart plastic. I can’t explain this definitively, but I suspect that the combination of how the steel interacts with skin (less grippy) and the less severe shape (not squared off) make the SH ring significantly more comfortable (the same would be true for any steel device, not just the SH).

For me, the difference was 5mm in the A-ring. I wore the 45mm combination in the CB6K and have a 40mm ring on the SH. I think you could easily knock 3mm off from your plastic fitting. With regard to the tube, it’s not so easy. That’s a more customized thing. I think the best measuring advice I’ve seen is on the Mature Metal site. Remember that a tube which allows for less growth of your erection is, in my experience and as illogical as this sounds, more comfortable.

Princess Annie (whose blog you should check out), asked in an email:

Thumper, this is one of my central questions. How do I know if my boy, my pet, has ejaculated without me? He could lie – you could’ve lied. I can act like I will know… but I wouldn’t really. hmmmm…

Tricky. My answer is, if he’s a good actor, you can’t know. Absent a secure device, there’s just no telling. You have to trust him and he has to commit to accepting the control he’s presumably give to you. There are times when he’ll be weak and will succumb to temptation. We’ve all been there. If and when those times happen, he will need to be honest with you and admit them as soon as possible. If he doesn’t, then he’s not a good fit for that kind of relationship.

Practically, you need to be a keen observer of his personality. What is he like when you know he’s been chaste? What is he like after you let him come? That kind of thing. Other than that, I’m afraid I don’t have much for you.

This one was submitted via The Portfolio:

Hey Thumper. I always enjoy your Portfolio and I have wondered about the mix /selection of pictures as it relates to your chastity lifestyle. Do you know the ratio of heterosexual images vs. homo erotic images? Do you find that you post more homo erotic images the longer you are locked up? Or do you find that the less attention that Belle is able to give you the more you fantasize about guys and pegging and the like. – Just Curious

Regarding the mix of hetero vs. homo imagery I post from day to day, to be honest, it really depends on what I find on my dashboard in the morning. I follow 366 372 different Tumblrs of all kinds and some days the mix is heavier on the boobs and beavers and some days it’s more cocks and hanging nutsacks. I try to keep things mixed up, but I only have so much time in the day to look at porn (alas). I don’t know the exact ratio, though it’s probably slightly more gay than straight. For whatever reason, gay porn has always been more stimulating to me than straight so I’m sure it gets favored over time. However, with the addition of the Pit Stop, I’ve found some male images going there rather than on The Portfolio (meaning the female ratio should be going up).

Regarding how my chastity affects what I post, I know it does, but I’m not sure I can tell you how exactly. I post more the hornier I am. I think I usually post more graphic images when I’m really in the soup than at other times when I might favor more arty compositions. I think I end up feeling more crude and base. I’ve written before that being locked up makes me more fascinated with pictures of cocks. I get kind of entranced by images of guys jacking off and I’ll watch a whole video only to see the shooting at the end (though I try to never post an image of a guy coming on The Portfolio). I always vacillate in the middle of the Kinsey scale, so I don’t know how I feel is different or the same as other guys, though anecdotally, it seems as though chastity and long term denial can make nominally heterosexual men more interested in images of other men (which supports my contention that all people are, if only a little, bisexual).

I have this neat scale that connects to the internet and keeps track of how much I weigh on my iPhone and iPad. As you can see from the above image (top graph), I’ve managed to lose about seven pounds since I started going to my personal trainer on the 16th. That’s not quite as much as I would have hoped, to be honest, but the trend is pointing in the right direction (the bottom line shows how much of my weight is fat).

In practice, I’ve found that while still a thorough ass-kicking, my sessions don’t leave me feeling as though I’m about to drop dead. Also, the aftermath is much less of a problem. For the first ten days or so, I was a giant mass of sore muscles unwilling to allow me to conduct such frivolous maneuvers as turning over in bed and walking across a room. Now, I feel the work out, but the muscle soreness is much less.

With regard to the steel device locked between my legs, I continue to find that the compression shorts do an admirable job of keeping things in check. I’m pretty sure that it’s been visible while getting stretched out stretched by the trainer, but that happens at the end of the session and I’m honestly too wiped to give a shit about it at that point. My attitude continues to be that while I’m not going out of my way to advertise how I live, I won’t feel especially embarrassed about it. As I’ve written before, the device mostly feels as though it is me. I want it to be there much more than I feel the need to hide the fact that it’s a fundamental part of my existence.

An excellent way to irrigate one’s chastity device is to remove the shower head from its flexible hose and stick it right down in there. Be careful not to have the water turned up too high or you might flush out more than you want.

You can also reverse the flow by holding the end of the hose against the opening in the tube, but that takes too hands and is more difficult to photograph while showering alone. Obviously.

Previous HNThumpers here. Read all about Half-Nekkid Thursday over at Osbasso’s.

Dutchbound said:

Hey Thumper – I’m very excited to hear that you got a trainer and look forward to reading more. Now, we can look forward to, and benefit from, Thumper-analysis (Thump-alysis??) of what it is like to not only workout frequently while locked but also how to manage the bulge in workout gear in a public setting. I’ve been working hard to manage those logistics myself.

I start the routine tomorrow so I can’t yet speak more than I already have to that, but I can add some insight into the “bulge management” situation.

Part of me want to say fuck it and bulge naturally, but perhaps a modicum of discretion is required. This morning, I was stretching in the workout pants I’ll be wearing while training with a “fashion” jock on underneath. I say fashion because it was sold though one of those underwear sites that has all the buff dudes modeling them and is as much a soft-core porn experience as it is for shopping. This particular pair I like because they have a generous pouch (to give that “no underwear” look) that’s not too constricting. They are definitely not concealment wear.

Anyway, during the leg stretching, the jutting steel bullnose was amply visible. While wearing my usual best concealment underwear when with the trainer was an option, they’re all high and tight cotton briefs and didn’t seem right to get all sweaty in. Therefore, a trip to Dick’s Sporting Goods was in order (yeah, I know).

What I settled on was a couple pair of Under Armour compression shorts. Note that there’s a couple different styles of these, if you’re thinking of getting them. One style — the kind I got — is made of the same super-stretchy material throughout while the other has a more breathable (and less compressing) crotch panel. Those didn’t seem to do a thing to help conceal. The more concealing style, as you can see, isn’t exactly the sexiest things you’re ever going to find me in, but that’s not what I got them for.

Once home, put them to the test. I put them on along with my workout pants and went through the stretching motions. I found that the visible bulge of the Steelheart was reduced by about 50%. There’s still a little bump there that’s not entirely natural looking, but it’s far less noticeable than it had been earlier in the day. The proof will be how they are to work out in. They push the whole package down and that puts extra pressure against the otherwise abused and disrespected nutsack, but it’s hard to know if it’ll prove to be too much. I guess we’ll find out tomorrow.

I’ve decided to start seeing a personal trainer since, over the past couple years, I’ve allowed myself to get to a point physically that I’m just not very happy about. I’ve also noticed, now that I’m solidly into my forty-fifth year, that things don’t work as well as they used to. I’ve lost strength, stamina, and flexibility and I’m just feeling old. I’m too young to feel old. And yes, while it is January and all kinds of bullshit resolutions are made at this time of year, I can say that had little to do with the timing of this decision. I’ve been thinking about it for some time and simply finally got around to it.

So I met with the guy Friday morning. He’s the proprietor of a small gym near our house and our first meeting was so he could evaluate my sorry condition. The guy is massive. Not big like a muscle bound linebacker, but proportionally huge. As if he’s been genetically manufactured to be a new kind of superhuman. He’s a former basketball player and has got to be at least 6’10″ tall. Being from West Africa, his skin is very dark. He’s bald and has arms as big around as my thighs. Practically. Either way, he’s an intimidating specimen. Being six feet tall myself, I’m unaccustomed to being around people significantly taller than me, let alone guys I need to crane my head up to look at.

Of course, it’s like he walked straight out of some cuckolding wank story. I admit that the question of his endowment was often in my mind. But that’s me. A pervert.

Anyway, this was just a short evaluation session, but it still kicked my ass. He had me doing lunges, squats, jumping jacks, leg presses, and this sit-up-catch-and-throw-a-ball exercise. All that after he told me I had the hamstring flexibility of a 300 pound guy. Nice. And yes, all this was done while locked up.

I was’t sure if I would need to be unlocked to work out with him so I didn’t ask Belle to let me out. The only time it may have been visible was when he had me flat on my back and was holding my leg straight up and pushing it forward in, I assume, an attempt to rip it from my body. I’m fairly certain a somewhat out of place bulge may have presented itself then and I may have even seen him glance at it, but honestly, the searing pain of the ordeal has clouded my memory. There were no issues after that, though, so I’ve decided to continue on without special access to the penis and see how it goes. Besides it becoming visible, I don’t think there will be a practical reason to remove it. It won’t get in the way of any exercising I can think of and wasn’t at all uncomfortable during or after. Asking for access to the key would be all about vanity and that doesn’t seem like a good enough reason to me. I’ve decided that being locked up is who I am and how I live so I won’t let something like an occasional unusual bulge change that.

While this is a sex blog, not a workout blog, I have to imagine that as this new endeavor unfolds I will bring it up often. I will be seeing the trainer (either the massive black guy or his more reasonably-sized assistant who just happens to share my first name) three times a week. The device may or may not become an issue, so that would be a germaine DT topic. Plus, as I get into better shape, my body image may return to a point where I would feel comfortable sharing HNTs of something other than the penis and its steel tube.

But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Between now and then, it’ll just be nice to have a place to whine and/or talk about how I’m less of a giant white lump than I used to be.

I got Belle a new vibrator. Buying new sex toys for her has not been without risk in the past. So far, this is the list of things I’ve brought into the bedroom that have stuck:

• Pink – Her traditional go-to vibe (so good, we bought another when we thought we lost the first)
• The Steelheart
• Various pinchy nipple things

That’s it. All the other stuff I’ve bought, like the rabbit vibrator or any of the various hitting implements or bondage accessories, basically sit in the toy box (which itself is inside a hamper and buried by a bunch of other crap). But I thought this new vibrator, the Liv by Lelo, looked promising, so I took a chance. It was “pretty” (Belle likes her sex toys to be pretty) and was longer than Pink but not too fat. Turns out Belle doesn’t like to play with things that are too big (which may explain her fondness for the penis). It showed up yesterday (I found it on Amazon for only sixty bucks — in a lot of other places it was $100 or over). I plugged it in to charge its battery and waited for Belle to get home.

Later, once we were settled in for the night, Belle told me to give her the new vibe. She held it in her hand, felt the silky smooth surface, and generally fondled it while I watched (and my tube tightened). She told me to turn off the light and get naked (since I can’t sleep that way without permission from her) and I got kind of excited. I really wanted to get her off.

My excitement was premature. She didn’t want me to participate. Belle intended to christen the Liv all by herself so all I got to do was lay there and hear the thrum of the vibe’s motor do its business over her clit. Eventually, she told me to suck on her nipples, so it wasn’t a total loss. After she came, she passed the still-warm-from-her-pussy vibrator to me to deal with as she rolled over.

“It has potential,” she said.

Whimper.

UPDATE: I neglected to say this is far more spam than I usually see. Like, 1,000 times more. It’s highly unusual and I don’t recall anything like it happening in the three+ years I’ve been blogging here.

I rest my case. I mean, just look at those fuckers.

I followed a few tumblrs that were dedicated to male pits, but they don’t really do it for me most of the time. It’s not just any pits that make me wobbly, after all, and the editorial thinking for a lot of them seem to be, “Oh, there’s an armpit. Done!” So, in keeping with the web’s model of empowering self-publishing the work of other people, I decided to start my own site dedicated to just those pictures that show just the kind of armpits that get me going. It’s called Thumper’s Pit Stop.

There are still a few things I’m working out. Like, do I put an image I like on both tumblrs? I probably will if I like it for reasons other than the pits but also in addition to them. There are some images I leave off The Portfolio right now because they don’t fit its raison d’être (whatever that is — it seems to change from day to day and can only be interpreted by unlocking my deep reptile brain), so now an image that is nothing more than a gratuitous Portfolio-inappropriate pit shot has a place to go. Also, it will not always be the case that the pit or pits is/are the main focus of an image featured there. Only those that spoke to me in that fuckinghellletmeputmyfacerightinthere kind of way.

Anyway, if you dig dude’s pits, check it out. If not, skip it.

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¹ I like girls too, of course. Let’s not forget. ↩