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Posts tagged ‘chastity devices’

Jun 12

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Fetishist

Got the following text from Belle yesterday morning:

Put yourself in the Steelheart

And I did, using the lock and key from the recently removed Looker 02, and left the key in the standard place for her to retrieve later in the day. Not a moment too soon, really. I was getting kind of bitchy-whiny about being unlocked. No, not in that dreaded top from the bottom way. I just don’t react well to uncertainty. She had said after letting me out that I’d be back in on Sunday, but she didn’t do it. Then Monday came and went with no word at all. As if she forgot my state. So, by the time she left for work on Tuesday with still no word, I was feeling anxious in that way only an annoying sub can. Pulling the ring around the penis and balls and settling the shaft down inside the tube as the two halves of the lock fitted into place zinged a warm and comforting thrill through my chest. Nice that after more than four years, it still works for me.

I expected to have a hard time (ahem) with the nocturnal hydraulics, but I slept mostly through them. The L02 doesn’t wake me as often (the ring’s a little bigger) and it usually takes me a week or so in the Steelheart to get used to the early morning squeeze. I fell asleep on my stomach with the device pushing firmly up into my pelvis and a not inconsequential horny buzz going. Today in the shower, I was doing my tube cleaning routine and found even the sensation of the water rushing by head of the penis was enough to make my knees weak and tummy tingle.

Cleaner, goddamn you! CLEANER!!

Honestly, I don’t even like seeing the penis anymore. Not without something on or around it. When it’s freely flopping, I feel…less. Somehow. When I approach a urinal and whip it out, there’s a moment of disorientation where I forget it’s free. It’s like peeing with someone else’s dick. Getting out of bed Tuesday morning, I watched it flop over to one side lightly and wiggle around with my balls laying there like a deflated ballon and the whole thing looked altogether wrong as opposed to this morning when instead I watched and felt the steel shift and pull and keep the nuts orderly positioned side by side. As it should be. As I should be.

Harry asked (and answered) why chastity? I know he was speaking in the larger sense (and I don’t disagree with his answer, though in my usual way, I’d have said a lot more), but why do I need this thing on me? Why does the physicality of the steel mean so much? As it is with so many kinks, I just don’t know. How can we know where these things come from? I can tell you when I’m wearing it because she told me to, I feel better. Special. Looked-after. Maintained. Even sexier. I recall near the beginning of this blog’s life a commenter suggested I had a fetish for chastity devices. I took exception with that at the time, but I can’t really deny it anymore. I do have a fetish. I am a fetishist. Either I had it all along or my feelings of emotional and relationship well-being have been fused with the device between my legs and what it does in such a way that I feel incomplete without it.

I feel like I need Belle to keep pushing and shoving me into tighter and tighter spots. More restriction. More constriction. Less access. Less pleasurable sensation. What’s the limit? Where does it end? Are we, those who long to be controlled, all like this? Or do I have a reciprocally recursive feedback system that builds on itself in such a way that eventually all my feelings of submission and denial will be compressed into a diamond-hard lump?

Yeah, I don’t know. As long as she keeps me locked up along the way, I guess it’ll be OK.

May 30

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Two strikes

I’m off again on Friday for another week in the woods. Belle’s made it clear this time that she fully expects me to stay locked in the Looker 02 the entire time I’m gone. She even went to far as to suggest she might need to take my emergency key away or hide it in my truck somewhere to keep me from using it. In the end, I promised to only use it for actual emergencies and not simply to make my life a bit more convenient. I said this while laying next to her, face burrowed into her, in a small and quiet voice.

“How does that make you feel?” she asked. Trigger tripping, that. The tone of my voice made it clear how it made me feel. Making me say it out loud? Ungh.

After a long pause, “Powerless,” I said, “Small and powerless.” The penis shifted and pressed against its cage and choked down more of the device’s insert. Being forced to say it like that welded the commitment to my psyche. I’ll do whatever I can not to take the device off while I’m away from Belle.

Not sure why this time’s different than last time when she told me I could go free, but this weekend’s performance might have something to do with it. She told me she’d let me out but expected me to “stare at the ceiling or think about baseball or whatever the hell you need to do” because she wanted to fuck me and come.

Saturday night started in the hot tub for us. She brought the key with her and I took the device off and she stowed it in her robe. The penis immediately started to chub out (as it does hopefully and expectantly whenever the device is removed), but even though it was dark and we were alone, nothing too rambunctious could happen as there were Muggles about. Eventually, I was behind her and massaging her shoulders while grinding the stiffy into her gently. I moved one hand from her shoulders and neck down to her pussy and rubbed it through the fabric of her suit for a while before slipping my fingers beneath. The feel of her snatch in that very sexual position (though one we never use) made me very hard and quite light-headed from arousal. We stopped after a bit and went inside to bed.

Though my fucking wasn’t supposed to happen until the next morning, the hot tub must have gotten her going because before I knew it, she was on top of me pounding away and I had her tits in my mouth. I was doing pretty good until she started to make “I’m going to come” kind of noises and all of a sudden I lost it. Not an orgasm, but the closest I’ve come since January. One strong surge of ejaculate right at the moment of withdrawal, but none of the accompanying sensations or afterglow of coming. Even though I was able to get ahold of myself sufficiently to let her have another go, her moment had passed. I failed the one thing I’m supposed to do in bed: get her off.

Next morning, more of the same except the close call on my part was avoided. It was very frustrating for both of us. I told her not to worry about me and just go and whatever happened to me happened. I didn’t really want the orgasm, but I wanted her to have hers more than anything. In the end, she had a calmer head than me and again she was left without. I failed again. I felt (and feel) very bad.

“Keep that up and I’m going to have to find a surrogate,” she said, exasperated.

More trigger tripping.

So here it is, the eve of my departure, and she still hasn’t gotten off. I don’t know if she’s going to want to try again tonight or not, but I do know I’ll be keeping the steel on, in, and around the penis until she tells me I can take it off. Whenever that is.

May 21

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Outfit change nerdery

Belle decided it was time to “change my outfit” Sunday morning after sex but before the gym. She put me back in the Looker 02 after an extended time away from it. I think the last time I had it on was way back during SXSW over the first half of March. Then we went of vacation and then she put me in the Steelheart for like six weeks then I went camping and came back and blah blah blah.

Yeah, a long time. It didn’t feel the same as the first time I wore it. There was still some cellular memory there and it didn’t feel as novel as it once did. Going right to the gym and running on the treadmill for a couple of miles was probably not the best idea I’ve had. I neglected to apply a dab of silicone lube to the insert and wore regular, barely there jogging shorts. The bulb-end on the insert kept punching the inside of the penis with every step. It started out as an interesting sensation but evolved into an relatively uncomfortable one before too long. By the end of the day, it was burning for a few seconds every time I took a piss. The next day, a little tender but not painful. I even ran again in the afternoon, but this time lubed the insert beforehand and wore supportive athletic underwear. By this morning at the gym, totally fine.

Aside from the self-inflicted issues from the first day, the Looker 02 remains a remarkably comfortable device. It woke me up this morning, but not from the hard shaft being squeezed by the A-ring as in the Steelheart, but by it clamping down on the bulb-end of the insert. Sometimes, it feels like this odd little hard spot inside me. Not very painful (and without the testicle discomfort the smaller Steelheart ring can give), but kind of like a mild burning.  Yesterday, I had on a pair of light-brown dress pants and noticed while sitting at my desk that the bulge from the cage was smaller (the tube is slightly shorter) but that I could make out the bars through the fabric. Not sure if anyone not expecting to see a chastity device there would have been able to discern what they were looking at, but I knew what it was.

Speaking of which, this morning while working out at the gym with our trainer, I was trying out a new pair of athletic underwear. The pouch on these is a little more forgiving, though still supportive, so that when I was on my back doing bench presses or while doing crunches on the bosu ball, I noticed that the L02 stuck out more than I recall it doing in the past. The pouch may actually have been holding the package up rather than pushing it down like my other shorts do (which, if you think about it, is probably what most guys want it to do). I remember when I first started my work-out regime that I was very concerned about the devices showing to my trainer (so much so that I asked Belle to be let out when I trained — she refused), but today, even with the trainer there and three other people I didn’t know milling about the free weight area, I just didn’t care. Had they looked (and all guys do), they would have seen what looked like maybe a short little stiffy poking up at an odd angle, but I didn’t try to hide it. I couldn’t and still do my exercises. At this point, whatever the fuck. I’m kinda over all the stealthy theatrics. I’m not going to be vulgar and drag someone into my sex life against their will, but at the same time, I’m not going to act especially self-conscious or be uncomfortable about it.

Speaking of speaking of which, the other day I spied a dude in a parking lot who, it seemed to me, clearly had something in his pants. Something unnatural. Could have easily been a chastity device. Something on the larger side, though, like a Curve. I only mention it because it’s the first time I’ve ever seen another guy in the wild who I though could have been packing.

Anyway, I have another week in the woods away from Belle in a few weeks and I’m thinking that this time I might actually be able to stay locked up. The hygiene requirements of the L02 are somewhat simpler than the Steelheart and my privacy situation might be slightly improved this time. I will definitely be giving it a shot.

May 16

4 Comments

Mailbag

Some interesting questions from Fetlife member imposedsensation (who, by the looks of his pictures, is a sexy motherfucker):

Looker 02:

Any thoughts on swimming with the Looker 02? I’m curious whether it would be dangerous to have pool water (chlorinated, but possibly kind of dirty) traveling up the plug pipe, if you will…

Also concerned that the chlorine might corrode the integrated lock–I believe brass will corrode, although brass was a preferred metal when it came to pool design years ago, before plastic. What do you think?

My only other thought is that I tend to shrink to a really, really small size when swimming–I’m hoping the plug will keep everything in place until I shower, when presumably I’ll grow back to normal flaccid state. I’m thinking I’ll be keeping my suit on for that!

The Rattler:

I purchased a rattler after reading your review. Does the ball ever get stuck in your rattler? I had a situation where the ball was lodged in the top of the conic section at the top. It took a lot of beating and attempts to heat and cool the device to finally get it unstuck. Mr. S was willing to send it back for repair, but I eventually got it free. If this is normal, then I’m not going to send it back, but if mine is defective, I’d like to have it repaired. So, just interested in your mileage on this one…

Thanks!

Pretty sure I’ve been in a hot tub with the L02 on. Can’t remember if I’ve been in a pool with it, but I wouldn’t hesitate  to swim while locked unless the pool you’re in is ridiculously chlorinated. And even then, I’d probably give it a shot. Remember, stuff doesn’t craw up the insert and hang out. If the pool water in question did work its way in there, it wouldn’t be in contact with much of you and it’d only be there until the next time you took a leak. As I said in my review, urine washes the tube out and even leaks out the sides a bit. I found it to be self-cleansing system that gets flushed about six times a day.

I’ve been wearing those brass locks for a long time now and they’ve developed a nice patina, but haven’t come close to corroding. Even if they did, that’s a slow process. You wouldn’t find your shiny new lock all green and crusted shut back in the locker room after a single swim. If you’re really worried, you (or whoever is holding the key) could give the lock a test turn from time to time. But no, I wouldn’t worry about that.

Yes, unless you totally turtle and find your dick actually indents into your body, the insert should keep you situated until the warm blood comes back and fills things back out. The insert extends past the A-ring, so you’d be good. (Also, keeping your suit on while you shower is cheating.)*

With regard to the Rattler, I’ve found that whatever the little doodad that rattles around in there is, it does, from time to time, get lodged in the top point. In the case of mine, all I had to do was give it a whack against my palm to get it loose (though one time I was “wearing” it and had to perform bit of a hop on a solid surface to get things moving around again). If you’re finding that it’s happening all the time and it’s as hard to get loose as you’re saying, I might consider an exchange. That doesn’t sound normal.

* I’m kidding.

May 2

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Squishy: Boy Trainer 2.0/Birdlocked Neo first impressions

Belle allowed me to purchase a Boy Trainer 2.0 from Mr. S Leather the other day. My thought was it could be used when travelling or any other time something non-metal or slightly less severe was necessary or preferred. Kind of a “chastity-lite” thing that would be honestly better for me than swinging free.

It arrived yesterday and Belle said in advance I could switch from the Steelheart I’ve been in since the beginning of April to the BT2. I wore it from about 5:00 PM yesterday until after my workout and shower this morning. Not nearly long enough to form a complete picture or write up a full review, but I have some observations:

  • First of all, Mr. S markets it as the Boy Trainer 2.0, but it’s actually a Birdlocked Neo. I didn’t even know such a thing existed and thought Mr. S had developed this on their own. Not so much.
  • It’s really big. Bigger than a CB6K (though seemingly not longer than a standard 6K tube). This makes it much more noticeable beneath clothing (even jeans) than the Steelheart. The A-ring (which isn’t really an A-ring since it’s all one piece) is quite wide and the whole thing sticks out more prominently than any other device I’ve worn. When sitting, it gets all squished up so you don’t see a tube outline like with a rigid device, but it does leave an idle observer with the impression that you’re packing something impressive.
  • I lost my right nut with it last night. Woke up during the usual early morning hydraulics test not because the erection was biting (it wasn’t) but because my right nut had popped out and hidden itself up inside me somewhere and was aching. All I had left in the device was a flappy pocket of scrotum. Had to take the device all the way off to get things sorted.
  • During my shower, I discovered that the device isn’t just easy to pull out from (all these devices are) but that I could remove the entire thing from my body and get it back on again while soaped up, all without unlocking it. You can’t really refer to the BT2/Neo as a “trapped-ball” device since my balls (at least) aren’t at all trapped.
  • Since there’s nothing at all adjustable about it, there’s nothing I can do to make it fit me better. The openings for my nuts are just a little too big and the tube is too long. For this reason alone, I’d recommend a CB6K for someone just starting out over the BT2/Neo. Taking the short tube option into account, the CB6K has something like 40 different fitting combinations.

When I’m back from my trip, I’ll write up something bigger, but that’s enough for now. If you’re curious to see what the BT2/Neo looks like on this rabbit, I posted a picture to Twitter.

Speaking of my trip, I’ve decided to try and stay locked the whole time I’m gone. Long time readers will know I did do this over a camping trip a few years ago, but I had significantly more privacy then. I’ll have the key with me so if it gets too difficult, I’ll have a way out.

With that, I’ll sign off for the next couple of weeks…

Apr 30

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Transmuted pangs

Belle’s experiment with controlling my moodiness enters its third week. I’ve been out of the Steelheart for about an hour (since the day she let me out overnight earlier in the month) and that was for cleaning purposes only. I didn’t even get a boner. As I mentioned recently, I’ve found myself to be very irritable after being allowed to fuck her since we were on vacation so she’s decided I won’t get to do that as much as before and has stuck to it. I’ve essentially been locked up for month and have only been inside Belle once in that time.

She still gets to come, of course. Of course. Whenever she wants. Last time was at the end of my tongue. That was an especially frustrating one because she tasted so good and was so fucking wet after, but nothing for me. On my way down to her snatch, I rubbed the hard steel tube against her pussy and felt nothing whatsoever. Not even her heat. Laying on my stomach between her legs was physically painful as the erection struggled against the device and the device pressed into the mattress. I had to keep my ass raised up the whole time, lapping and licking and feeling her squirm in delight.

This morning, I was tending the porn farm and found this image among the firehose-like stream of pictures and animated GIFs I peruse on Tumblr. It’s not something suitable for The Portfolio since I never post any images of men having or having just had an orgasm (for obvious reasons), but as soon as I saw it, I felt a sharp and palpable pang from deep down. The situation is one nearly all men are familiar with (I may even have had those shoes) and, for a fleeting second, I felt myself there again. Being in that place where I could feel my hand wrapped around and pumping on a hard shaft, coaxing the seed from myself and being so wrapped up in the act that I didn’t care where it went after and, once out, the wash of release cascading like a cooler full of Gatorade dumped over my head and the realization that maybe I didn’t want a bunch of goo all over my clothes or the floor and now I’d have to clean it up. And the smell of it. The pungent smell of fresh semen. All that in a fraction of a second. And I wanted it. And I mourned not being able to have it. And I felt truly denied.

I presume my moodiness stems from that. From being truly denied now. There is no hope of coming for me. Not for a long time. No part of me needs to be invested in hoping she won’t let me. She will not. Nothing even close. No fucking, no touching. I meekly and pathetically suggested to her last night that she might let me out for some penis play time (not in her as she’s on her period) and, once she figured out what I was suggesting, shot the idea down because she couldn’t see what was in it for her. Why the hell should I be let out only to play with the penis? What’s the point?

So what I’m left with is an awful and glorious gnawing in my crotch for release. For attention. For a fucking hard on. I’m squirming and desperate and needy and right where I want and need to be. She won’t let her thumb off of my soul for a second. So cruel and yet loving.

In a few days, Belle’s leaving for another work trip and, just before she gets back, I’m leaving on a nine day camping trip with friends. She told me I could unlock myself at the last possible moment before I leave, but I’m toying with the idea of staying in. Not because I fear having access to the meat (I won’t have much privacy or opportunity to do anything with it I’m not allowed to do) but because I’ve been in so long now and, my desire to feel the stiff penis inside her aside, it’s just how I am. It’s how I want to feel. I resent having to come out. I resent real life forcing itself between us. Logically, I know I need to come out. It would be nearly impossible to keep things clean and lubed and secret for the whole time I’m away from bathrooms and plumbing and paved roads.

But god, I love living as she wants me to. I love how my submission transmutes what I need into something I don’t want and then back into something I crave, all because she wants it, too. You should feel sorry for me…and very happy for me, both.

Apr 18

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And then she rubbed her tits in my face

Other interests have keep me from my blogging lately, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t wanted to. Let’s play catch-up…

Last week, I recall with a certain vividness a moment Belle and I shared in our kitchen just after dinner. The kids had scattered and it was just us and apparently she was feeling frisky so she rubbed her tits in my face. Literally. Pushed my face down there and moved them back and forth. I was delirious. Made my head light and toes tingle. I may have just commented on how I had been locked up continuously since we got back from vacation and she may have said something to the effect that a) that’s not that long for me, and b) it would be a lot longer still, and c) here, let me rub my tits in your face you whiny rabbit. After she had me good and woozy, she told me to clean up the kitchen and left me swaying.

She’s off on an international trip now, but before she left she let the penis out for about 24 hours so she could have some fun with it. I was barely able to keep things under control while she rode me for an orgasm. It wasn’t the fucking that nearly sent me over the edge as much as it was the sound of her coming. Her orgasm has become a kind of release for me and I actually feel something like an post-orgasmic euphoria from it. Once she started to come, listening to her ecstatic sounds pulled a trigger inside me and my own orgasm presented itself quickly. I held still, pressed down on the small of her back to keep her from making any motion (she likes to fuck me from above), and it turned out to be nothing more than a copious surge of frustrated goo. Quite copious, it turned out, since she gave me permission to fuck her afterward and I was treated to my own sloppy seconds. I could barely be inside her without getting right back to the edge.

I was again overwhelmed by the need to come. You’re like, well duh, but in the past I would fuck without wanting to come more often than fucking the other way around, but now that I know there’s no possibility she’s going to let me, that internal denial safety is nowhere to be found and I seem to always want to come when she lets me get the penis wet. I tell her how I feel and she tells me it’s just not going to happen and I feel simultaneously a great and overwhelming love towards her (and gratitude) but I also hear the lizard snarl and growl. I fucking want to come. 

And, you know, that’s awesome. It’s way better to feel denied something I really want than something I don’t. But, just like when I was on vacation, I found myself really irritable and grumpy as hell later in the day. I was able to recognize it and kept it from being directed at Belle, but this intense irritability thing is new for me. So yeah, you can be locked up for the better part of four years and still find new things in it.

Like I said, she had me out for one day. Friday night to Saturday night. Then I had to go back in for her trip. I’ve been in the Steelheart for seventeen out of the last eighteen days and will likely remain in it (or the Looker) for nearly three more weeks (with maybe another day out for her pleasure along the way, but that’s not my call obviously). Early in May, I go away for a week’s camping excursion with friends and I’ll be out for that.

After 17 days, I’m more or less back into the groove, device-wise. It’s me and I’m it and I don’t even always wake up from the morning wood (and when I do, I like how it feels rather than being bothered by it). Yesterday, I must have been wearing an uncommon combination of underwear (silly stringy ones with hardly any support) and jeans (third wearing since last wash) because the device had what seemed like a lot of room down there and was taking advantage of it. I could feel it swinging and swaying as I walked around. I was very aware of it. By the end of the day, I was pretty turned on, but there was no Belle to enjoy that with.

This morning, after my workout, I had all those hormones pinging around inside me, so I decided to enjoy a new toy over the course of the day. After getting it all situated, I discovered I needed more and broke out the big guns. Then I put the new toy back (where it is now — more on it in a later post). Needless to say, I was quite late for work.

Apr 2

6 Comments

A twist in the bend

Reader avlaps left the following suggestion on my review of the Steelworxx Looker 02 regarding what I assumed to be a misaligned bend in the anatomical A-ring:

Maybe it is due to asymmetry of a testicles? In normal state the left one is placed higher than other one so that rotated ring can give more comfort. (sorry if my English is weird, it is not native for me)

And I was all like, huh. That’s not a bad theory. It’s not shown that way on the Steelworxx site, so I assumed it was a mistake, but avlaps might be onto something. I’ve been thinking about that off and on since.

This morning, I took a few pictures to get to the bottom of it. I’ll put them behind a jump to help maintain this site’s nominal sensitivity to being totally NSFW.

Read more

Mar 5

9 Comments

What I’d like to do

You know what I’d like to be doing right now? Jacking off. I’d like to be jacking the hard penis, smothered in lube, feeling the heavy PA ring flopping around, nasty pinchy clamps on my nipples. I’d like to watch my fist ride up until it was snug around the penis’ head like a turtleneck sweater and all the crazy fucking nerve endings there firing on my brain like a pirate ship sacking a costal village. Then see the shaft rise up out of my hand, then let it all reverse again. Over and over. Then, when I found myself at the edge of orgasm, I’d let go of the poor thing and let it surge and struggle and flex and maybe leak a bit, but then I’d lap that up and just keep going. Salty sweet nectar. The prize inside.

But I can’t. The penis is locked up. And even if it weren’t, Belle has forbidden that I touch it in that way. In the past several weeks, I’ve jacked off for a grand total of ten minutes because Belle told me I could for five minutes twice. That’s it. So, even if I didn’t have steel restricting the erection that wants to be stroked, I wouldn’t touch it because that would be against the rules I have taken to heart very seriously and promised I’d follow.

So, instead, I look at porn. Which makes the penis even more constrained in its steel cage and makes the desire to stroke it even greater which causes me to want to look at more porn which makes me…well, you get the point.

Feb 21

8 Comments

Rules

I’ve been reading Discipline: Adding Rules & Discipline To Your BDSM Relationship on Das Kindle. It’s coincidental to the new rule about forbidding me from playing with myself when unlocked, but happily so. The book is by Lily Lloyd of blackleatherbelt and has been enjoyable and enlightening.

Lily identifies three types of rules:

  • Ritual and Protocol – Activities and  standards of behavior in which a Dominent and submissive engage to reenforce their roles.
  • Standing orders – Rules the Dominant expects the submissive to carry out on a regular schedule or when a particular situation comes up.
  • Behavior modification – Rules that are intended to help a sub develop a new habit or shed an old one, with the objective of changing the sub’s life for the better or making the sub’s behavior more pleasing to the Dominant.

In addition, she says the use of rules in a D/s relationship have their own simple rules:

  • They should bring you closer together.
  • They should build a dynamic you both want.
  • They should enhance (or minimally not detract from) the well-being of both partners.

This is, of course, eminently logical stuff. It is true. But that doesn’t mean any of it was obvious to either me or Belle as we stumbled into our D/s overlay. Some of what Lily says in the book we’ve already come to realize but other stuff I don’t think we have or didn’t realize we realized it until I read it all laid out as she has. If you’re a D or an s (or a little of both), you should read this book. I’m not finished with it yet, but am just about half way though. That’s enough for me to be able to say with full conviction that if you read my blog you’re likely to get something out of this book and should do yourself the favor. (I mean, come on. It’s only three bucks.)

As a sub, I love rules. Just thinking about them and writing that statement makes the device’s contents tingle and swell. On paper or conceptually, rules sound boring, but in practice (and specifically how the concept of being ruled percolates through my brain) they’re fucking hot. Combine this with my natural predilection towards process and definition and you get a nerdy subbie squirming mass craving order and discipline. Especially the discipline.

Belle doesn’t love rules. She’s the one who doesn’t measure the ingredients to a recipe and just eyeballs it (which drives me crazy) and is the first between us to do what she wants rather than what is expected. This is a natural point of friction in our foundational relationship, let alone a potential pitfall in our D/s overlay. Without thinking, it makes me want to say I don’t really have that many rules, but after some reflection, it turns out I do have more than just the one. In no particular order…

  • I have to wear the chastity device of Belle’s choice whenever and for however long she says.
  • I’m not allowed to have an orgasm until July 27, 2014.
  • I’m not allowed to refer to the penis as mine.
  • I’m not allowed to use the penis in any pleasurable ways without Belle’s permission.
  • I am to turn the TV off in our bedroom whenever Belle wants it off and I’m not to complain about it. (That one was my idea. I love the TV in our bedroom, she claims to hate it.)

There are a few that have become defunct.

  • I used to have to ask permission before getting into bed. This one suggested that the bed is Belle’s and she decides where I sleep, but she’s never made me sleep anywhere else (like on the floor or in another room).
  • I used to have to ask permission to sleep naked. For whatever reason, I just sleep naked anyway. On the rare occasion that I don’t, she asks what’s up.
  • I used to have to prepare the coffee machine to make Belle’s coffee in the morning. Belle bought a fancy-shmancy coffee machine that only requires the push of a button to make an apparently tasty beverage (I wouldn’t know since I don’t drink it).

Maybe there were others, but I’ve forgotten them. We both need to be invested in rules in order for them to work and these obviously weren’t that important to one or both of us. One that I particularly like that Lily requires of her girlfriend sub is to spend five minutes a day quietly contemplating their relationship and then to text her when she’s done. This is kind of like my desire to have to thank Belle every day for acceptance of my submission. It’s a difficult thing to stay in the subbie state of mind and a daily reminder, even something so simple, is appealing to me. Also, vocally reiterating my position is a profoundly energizing thing for me to do, especially when I’m not feeling it all that much.

As I said above, I’m all about the rules. I love them. I know I loved them long before Belle loved them (or at least appreciated them). When she really took charge of the device and when and for how long I’d wear it, it made wearing it ten times more appealing to me (and it was already appealing). That’s when it became a rule. One that she set and I follow. Same for her recent investment in my denial. Now, we both own that. Her commitment to the rule that I won’t come for another 520 days (it’s true – look it up) makes not coming so much more profound for me than back when she’d fuck me all she wanted and if I came it was my problem. I want to follow her rules. I want to obey. But I’m only a man, after all. You keep fucking me, I’m going to come eventually. It means a lot to me that she wants me to succeed as much as I do.

Same goes for the “no playing with it” rule. I was out this past weekend and that fact kept waking me up (as a hard, sensitive penis will do) and each time the first thing through my mind was that I could not touch it. I’m choosing to interpret “playing with it” to mean no pleasurable touching, not just jacking off, so I have to be very careful not to grab it just because it’s needy. In any event, that one simple rule that you would have thought seemed pretty obvious for us has resonated in me very deeply. I suspect (though I haven’t had a chance to put it to the test) that I feel so strongly about obeying her that she could leave me alone sans device and I would be good. That’s a huge difference from how I felt just a few weeks ago.

Friggin’ rules, man. They’re awesome.

I have more to say about using rules to modify behavior, but will save that for another time.

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