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Pressure check

Lately, I’ve been having conversations with a few people via Bluesky about their inability to achieve erection after long-term denial and chastity. My experience seems to be a little different than theirs.

For me, I can still get hard. I wake up every morning with a stuffed device (and it feels amazing). Also, when I’m turned on sufficiently, I can still fill the cage just fine. So, physiologically, everything still works. But I’ve been told by some guys that they don’t get erections at all. Ever.

What’s different between now and early on when I was locked is that I don’t try to get hard as often, even when I’m stimulated such that I would have popped an unlocked boner or found myself uncomfortably tight in the early days. Browsing visual porn or reading erotica doesn’t elicit much of a reaction. Maybe a pleasant little chubbing. I have to be very turned on to actually strain against my confinement. When I’m getting Belle off or right when she’s coming usually does it. When I’m with Frodo, it can happen, too. So it definitely happens, just not as frequently.

Back when Belle was unlocking me more regularly for sex, she’d give me the key and let me take off whatever I was in prior to getting her off. In those cases, when the contents was out, it’d get plenty hard in advance of what was to come (all too quickly). But, in that same situation (then and now) with no expectation of release, I don’t get hard. Maybe a little. But not always.

I’ve also noticed that when I’m very occasionally out during a shower for maintenance and deep hygiene, it barely reacts. Even as I’m grabbing and pulling it about to get the razor over the bits I usually can’t reach. Nothing. Like there’s some kind of switch that’s set to off. Literally zero reaction. The last time I was in that spot, I thought I couldn’t have made it hard even if I was trying. It just felt so remote and alien.

I know what I’m allowed to do. I know what I have the urge to do. I know that those things rarely align. I don’t want to be bad and the fact that I desire to obey the rules is stronger than the reptile brain part of me that would actually enjoy being hard and jerking it or sticking it in something or someone.

On this week’s Savage Love episode, Dan had a question about hypnotism as a kink and, specifically, if it was bullshit. His guest, Sadie Dingfelder, came on to talk about what the science says. I won’t get into the whole thing (you should listen), but the thing that stuck with me is that the brain is a very powerful thing. With enough work or willingness plus suggestion, our brains can make us feel or forget or engage in things we otherwise would not. I think long term, up to and bordering on permanent chastity, could easily create a similar kind of brain over body outcome. Specifically, we could train ourselves to stop having erections. The part of the brain open to the suggestion could override the bits that control when we got hard-ons in response to stimulation.

I think that can go further, too. I’ve said before how I don’t really feel like I have a penis anymore. How the device is a definite part of me and probably a better representation of my identity than the remote, disconnected from my reality thing that’s inside it. I have been conditioned to believe that (and I really do). I know there’s a penis in there. I still feel occasional, fleeting urges to use it how it was intended to be used. But there’s a block between me and that reality created by constant near-24/7/365 separation from the contents.

There was a time when the idea of being this way — mentally/emotionally modified and conditioned by chastity to lose this thing that many would consider central to the male experience — would have made me very turned on. The device would have been tight as a drum writing these words. Now, nothing. It’s still pretty hot imo tbh — I can feel that — but nothing is stirring.

However, as I said, the plumbing still works. Nocturnal tumescence is completely involuntary and I wake up every morning with it. And since I’ve been locked up quite literally for years and haven’t slept outside a device for the last 725 days, nothing in my experiencing makes me think permanent chastity does lasting physical harm. At least, it does not appear to have done so to me.

If I was suddenly not getting hard at all, I’d go to the doctor because there are other serious conditions that could cause that.

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Somewhat content weirdo

This morning, my wonderful wife and I were snuggling naked in bed in anticipation of her letting me get her off. She reached down and wrapped her hand over the titanium Orion and cupped my swollen, smooth balls.

“Still locked up,” I helpfully observed. I didn’t bother to tell her we were beginning my 652nd locked day and that tomorrow is the 700th day since she made me pussy free.

She laughed. “You wouldn’t know what to do with yourself if you were unlocked.” She laughed some more.

“I’d figure it out eventually.”

“You’d be miserable. Miserable and mopey.” Insert more laughing at me. “A miserable, mopey weirdo instead of your usual somewhat content weirdo.”

And, of course, she’s right. When I get her off and she lets me touch her pussy and it makes my toes curl I do really want to feel myself sliding into her. A lot. But she’s also been around long enough to know that’s not what’s best for me.

I woke up yesterday with a very tightly packed device. I was on my stomach so the feeling was even more pronounced. Years ago, that would have been uncomfortable. I might even have gotten up and walked around to try and make the attempted erection fade away. Instead, I ground it into the mattress. I pushed it down and flexed the contents so they flushed with blood and the device became as tight as is possible. I moaned a little.

She knows me. She knows what’s best for me. I’m lucky to have her.

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107 days to infinity

Someone on Bluesky messaged me the other day pointing out it had been almost two years since my last fuck. In fact, it’ll be two years in 73 days. So not quite, but we’re getting there.

It made me wonder if this pussy free period has been longer than the one that came before. And no, it’s not. The period between fucks last time was 763 days. We’re at 657 as of today for this one. So, about a month after I cross the two year mark, we’ll be into uncharted territory. That’s 107 days from today.

That 763 day period didn’t start with her saying I was being made pussy free. It just sort of kept getting longer and when I realized it had been a while (almost a year into it), we had some conversations and she didn’t seem to be in much of a hurry. So then it just sort of defaulted into pussy free. She was never super committed to the idea but also didn’t give me any reason to think I wasn’t. Then I wasn’t.

The biggest difference between this period and the last is, as I said, she never made a conscious decision to deny her pussy to me forever and it just kind of snowballed. This time, after the last fuck, she has told me several times it was a mistake and she should never have let me. My reaction was, to put it mildly, not amazing. So while she won’t be forced to limit her options in the future, this period feels much more intentional.

If there had been any redeemable qualities to that last fuck, maybe I wouldn’t be in this position. But it was terrible for her. I lasted less than a minute. I was barely able to actually fuck. I remember it being slow and stilted without much actual friction. The intensity of the sensation for me never let me settle into any kind of rhythm. Then I shot my load and I was a wreck.

Maybe if I knew it was coming. Maybe if it was still a fairly regular thing. But it’s not because no fuck with me as a top is any good. That’s why they don’t happen anymore. It’s a spiraling, self-fulfilling destiny. And after that experiment 657 days ago, I think she’s pretty much accepted that I’m never going to give her any kind of pleasure with my original equipment again.

At this point, I do really consider myself to be living in a post-pussy reality. I say that and can accept it and know it’s what’s best for me, but also I do still crave it. Especially at times like this morning when I sink my fingers into her and feel her wetness envelope me, the memory of what that felt like makes the device full and tight. The aching need for it makes me moan into her. And my obvious frustration makes her moan back into me.

It’s not like she cut me off cold turkey. Looking back, I’ve fucked my wife exactly three times over the last four plus years. Talk about being eased into it. And she’s well past the point of feeling any kind of guilt. She doesn’t seem to bother herself with my conflicting emotions over it. She likes me better this way and knows now the alternative gives her nothing. So, this time, I expect we’ll go well past 763 days. I think this time it seems incredibly likely I’ve fucked my last.

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2025 by the numbers

At the start of 2025, I posted that Belle’s goal for me was to be unlocked less than 25 hours for the year. My stretch goal was 12 hours. Turned out, I was out for less than 8. Seven hours and 49 minutes.

Since I started tracking, my previous fewest hours locked was in 2023 when I was out for only 19 hours. I think at that time I thought less than one day was pretty good and about the least one could reasonably expect, but here we are.

Since the start of 2016 when detailed tracking began, I’ve been locked 94.1% of the time. In 2023, that percentage was 99.8%. Last year was 98.6%. This year was 99.9%. But look that that chart. Over 2,000 hours unlocked in 2019. Who even was that person? And how did I have 1,984 in 2016, 1,566 in 2018, and 2,099 in 2019 but only 181 in 2017?

Belle and I are on a family vacation in the Caribbean right now and yesterday we were floating in the ocean sipping rum drinks. We did some reflecting on the year and talked about what she wanted from 2026. If I could do 8 hours, she wondered why I couldn’t do 6. I mean, I could. Of course I could. I could do zero, if I was really committed to it. If I chose not to unlock for certain life events. If I accepted that other people (TSA agents, stadium security, doctors, traveling companions, etc.) were going to be made aware of my locked condition. It’s happened before. The world didn’t end. The only thing keeping me from zero unlock is me and wanting to avoid certain conversations.

Twenty twenty six will not be the year for zero. Maybe it’ll never come (like me). Or maybe it’s inevitable. It’s definitely where the data is pointing. Functionally, the difference between 99.9% and 100% is nothing, so it would be a symbolic achievement at best. But…100% is just better than 99.9%.

The other thing she told me when bobbing around in the water was that she wanted to go back to using the strap-on more this year. It’s been a while since she wanted that and I love fucking her that way. Knowing she’s getting to feel the size she prefers with no concerns about stamina while the useless contents are locked and squished underneath. It’s the next best thing to being made an actual cuck. But that’s a topic for a different post.

Here’s where the year ended from a device perspective:

I was in one or the other of the Evotion Orions for three-quarters of the year. The venerable Steelheart took their place for 77 days and the BA-31P for a couple weeks. The notion that any time unlocked over five minutes to allow for hygiene and changing devices is forbidden and would be punishable didn’t exist until around the beginning of June, so the two ways I tracked that combined get to the 7:49 total.

You may be wondering what the punishment will be. Me too. She’s not really a punishment kind of Domme, but I’m sure she’ll come up with something. Hopefully, it’s really painful but, knowing her, she’ll make me eat a banana again.

More start of year numbers:

I’m five days away from not having seen the unlocked contents for a year. That’s amazing. Too bad I can’t remove the memory of what it looked like from my mind. I’d do it if I could. June 7 will mark two years locked, barring unforeseen issues. June 5 will be two years since I last stroked myself or had an orgasm. I could not have imagined writing that sentence 17 years ago when I first put on a device. April 21 will be the second anniversary of the day Belle made me pussy free. Writing that sentence legitimately sent a shiver down my spine. Such complicated feelings about that.

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Tracking with ATracker

Whenever I post a screenshot like this one…

I am invariably asked what app it is that I use to track how long and in what device Belle keeps me locked. Recently, I’ve also been asked to explain how I use the app. And since we’re close to the end of the year, I figure now’s a good time to oblige.

The app is called ATracker. I got it from the iOS App Store, but there’s also a Google Play version. Today, there’s a version called ATracker Pro, but that’s not the one I have. It didn’t exist when I first started using it. I’m not sure how they’re different, but they look very similar based on the App Store listings. Also note, I never upgraded to the premium version. I just didn’t need the extra features. At this point, I have no idea what I paid. It’s just been too long and I barely remember what I had for dinner yesterday. I do know my version doesn’t have ads and only the Pro version lets you remove them so I must have bought some level of the app that’s not offered anymore.

In any event, my first entry tracking the locked status of the contents was on 12/30/2015 when I went into the Steelheart. Since then, I’ve been locked in the Steelheart 1,427 days, 9 hours, 36 minutes. Almost four years. The device I’ve been locked into the second most is the Evotion Orion. Four hundred seventy six days, thirty six hours. After that is the titanium Evotion Orion at 393 days, 45 minutes. Overall, in the 3,650 days that have occurred between that first day tracking and yesterday, I’ve been locked for almost 3,384 of them. That’s nine and a quarter years. Ninety two percent of the time.

I know all that thanks to ATracker! So, how do I use it?

If you wanted to just know how long you’ve been locked, you can create a task in the app and call it something like “Locked.” From the Today screen, just tap the “+ Create Task” button at the bottom of the screen and name it “Locked.” That screen looks like this:

I add little icons, but that’s optional. Also, all my devices are colored blue. Just a matter of preference. If you wear multiple devices and want to track how much time you spend in each, make a task named for each one. Once the task(s) is created (either just the “Locked” task or one named for the device you’re in), clicking on the little stopwatch-looking icon in the top right corner of the Today screen will allow you to start the timer.

At this point, you can also do what I eventually did and create a task for when you’re not locked. I used to just not have a task running when I wasn’t locked but once the rule became clear that I was to be locked unless specifically allowed not to be, I realized I needed to track that unlocked time the same as my default state. So, you make another task and call it “Unlocked” if that’s what you want to do. Depending on your dynamic and any rules that have been established for your enforced denial, you might make multiple. Maybe to track when you’re unlocked with permission or unlocked for necessities of life (TSA, doctors), etc.

Once you have multiple tasks (ie, devices or locked states), you can switch back and forth on the Today screen by simply tapping the one that’s running to end it and tap another to start it. My Today screen looks like this:

You see all the devices I’ve ever added to the app, though I only wear about four (at least, that’s how many I’ve worn this year). it also shows the unlocked states I used, but right now, since I’m basically never allowed to be unlocked, I only use the “Unlocked (punishable)” task if I’m out longer than five minutes. It’ll also show you how long the current running task has been going.

Note that the app will let you have multiple tasks running at the same time, so be careful to stop one before starting another. I thought there was a setting to avoid that, but I can’t find it now. Maybe it’s in there somewhere.

The Reports tab lets you see the numbers you’ve logged. You can look at today, the last seven days, etc. Usually, I’m looking at a month at a time or a range to get year-to-date.

So…that’s about it. If you have any questions, just ask!

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Numbers game

I was recently tagged on BlueSky by someone who’s tracking stats similarly to how I do. They just passed four months without orgasms. 🎉

Speaking of which, my numbers as of today are…

Soon, it will have been a year since I had a proper look at the contents outside its containment. Obviously, I see a little of it through various openings in devices, and I’ve seen some bits and pieces while swapping devices, but I’ve not seen it in its entirety outside of some form of its confinement. Specifically, I have not seen the shaft at all. I hold it in my hand when unlocked and doing things like shaving. It rarely ever reacts to that touch.

It’s been over a year and a half since I was unlocked. I define that as being outside a device overnight. In fact, I don’t think I’ve had more than two hours unlocked in that time since I’m only unsecured for trips through airport security.

Similarly, I haven’t stroked myself in about the same amount of time. I actually really miss feeling a cock in my hand, even if it’s not mine. Luckily, I do get to experience that from time to time thanks to Belle allowing me extracurricular activities.

Also, obviously, I haven’t come in that same year and a half. Nothing.

The big one is when she last allowed me to fuck her. That cuts the most on days when she’s allowing me to get her off. Some mornings, like the last time it happened, the craving to feel her hot wetness envelope the contents was off the charts intense. Just a gnawing, overwhelming, all-encompassing craving. It hits me as soon as my fingers feel the slickness of her labia and crests as I feel her orgasm pulse under my touch. But then it starts to ebb as the afterglow radiates out of her. The idea that I would ruin that moment by pushing into her and unloading 36 seconds later just seems sort of heretical.

I think I’ll never get to feel that again. She suggests that’s the case, though she also led me to believe that 605 days ago when she let me fuck her the last time. But I do have to assume I’m forever pussy-free now, but it’s obviously not my choice.

The thing about these numbers is after a while they start to develop a kind of gravity all their own. Tracking them as visibly to myself as I do makes them almost impossible to think about resetting. Five hundred and sixty days without orgasm is my record. That means tomorrow will be a new record. And the day after that, another. Ad infinitum.

The other day I thought of a fun idea that, at another time in our dynamic, we might try, but because of the scale of the numbers I’m not sure we would today. The idea is that for each orgasm I give her in a month, I would earn one minute of time with her applying a vibrator to the device. If I gave her two orgasms that month, I’d get two minutes. If I gave her eight, I’d get eight. But, I’d have to take all those minutes no matter what happens. If I come in 30 seconds, I have to endure seven and a half more minutes of sensation. If I last the entire duration, no matter how close I am at the end, that’s it until the next month. I think that sounds pretty fucking hot. And not being allowed outside the device — not feeling any sensation like jacking off or fucking — should keep me mostly in my sub/headspace. But…yeah. Maybe at a different time. I don’t think she’d go for it nowadays.

Anyways, a little over four months from now it’ll have been two years since my last fuck. And almost two months after that, it’ll have been two years since my last day unlocked/stroke/orgasm. And…it would be very hard to see those numbers go to zero. Very hard.

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Keys? What keys?

Yesterday, we had a bit of scare. Belle, for a little while at least, well and truly lost the keys to the Steelheart. This has happened before, but it was very brief. More like misplaced vs. lost. The difference was, yesterday morning she was kinda freaked out about it like I’ve never seen her before.

I had been in the Steelheart for just over a month and, as sometimes happens, I was developing a sore spot on the top of the glans. I think this happens because the Steelheart is roomier than the Evotion Orion and also traps more liquid (though, because it’s stainless, still ends up being more hygienic) and sometimes it seems like the extra movement allowing the contents to bump around and the acidity of the environment combine to create a sore. Since being out is not an option, I wanted to get into a device that would allow the sore to heal up before it got out of hand. That’s the Orion. And that’s what prompted me to ask for the key.

But her usual hiding place was unavailable due to a bathroom remodel and she had to displace everything in there to somewhere else. And it was one of those things where you put something somewhere thinking it’s an obvious, easily remembered place only to realize it promptly left your brain as soon as you did it. She wasn’t, like, freaking out but she could see it from where she was.

I…wasn’t? Like, I know I do need to be able to get the device off for perfectly practical reasons (like little sores that pop up), but rather than being freaked out I felt something like a little thrum of excitement. That’s because I’m a fucking pervert, of course. It was like the start of some dumb chastity erotica. “My wife lost my key and now I’m locked for good!”

Luckily, she ended up remembering where they were and I was able to swap into the Orion without incident. She has both the keys and I have no emergency key because, well, that’s just how things are now. It’s easier, but, clearly, also riskier.

On Bluesky, someone asked if she supervised my changing devices to ensure I was following all the rules. And, no, she doesn’t (though that would be hot). She knows I’m just as invested in the rules at this point as she is and cheating is something I really am not that into. In fact, I may not be able to.

I took the Steelheart off and placed it on the bathroom sink edge and got in the shower without any device. I was careful not to look down or into the mirror because one of my rules is I’m not allowed to see the contents outside of its enclosure. While in the shower, I soaped up and directly cleaned all the places I can’t usual get to when locked. I found that doing so, while providing a lot of sensation to places that never feel it anymore, didn’t get me hard. At all. Not even a little. The contents remained small and floppy the whole time.

After the cleaning, I shaved the bits that are hard to get to which required pulling and such and still, nothing. While shaving, place the entire shaft in my hand so I can see what I’m doing without seeing it, and even then, nothing.

Note, I am not impotent. I can achieve an erection. I wake up with one every morning. I have a bit of a one right now writing these words. I get plenty tight while having sex or looking at porn, etc. But when the contents are exposed and soaped up and in my hand, nothing. Because I know it’s wrong.

It’s interesting to me how unbelievably sensitive the head is now. Maybe it’s too sensitive. Like, it was so intense as to be over the line of stimulating. Maybe that combined with the absolute mental lid on my urges makes it impossible for me to get hard that way now. All I know is it didn’t happen.

So, no, she doesn’t need to supervise me. I haven’t seen the exposed contents in 311 days and haven’t held my own erection in my hand in 526 days. Rules: FOLLOWED.

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Arresting development

I was just listening to the most recent Savage Lovecast (#991) and a listener asked for Dan’s permission to walk around his house naked in front of windows with their blinds up even though people on the outside might see him and the fact that being seen by someone kind of turned him on.

Dan’s advice shocked me. First, he said the caller didn’t need his permission and could do what he liked (not the shocking part), but then he said the caller might get arrested. Apparently, there are several cases of people being naked in their own homes and being seen from outside and then getting arrested and, reader, let me tell you. I am naked in my own home and walk in front of windows every goddamned day.

Our house has huge plate glass windows that look out onto the street and every morning I get up and go into the kitchen for my morning caffeine and I do this walk in front of the massive windows in exactly the same state I sleep: entirely naked (except for, you know, that one part). Of course, I know I might be seen at some point even though we live on a pretty quiet street at that time of day. I know and I just don’t care. It’s my fucking house, after all, and I feel like I should be able to enjoy it however I like. And I’m not doing anything sexual. I’m just walking, albeit nakedly. And locked.

Then Dan got onto the subject of secret perving and the ethics of that. Such as, is it OK for a foot fetishist to have a job selling shoes? Dan says yes, as long as the act of putting a shoe on someone doesn’t result in visible erections and profuse drooling. The best analog I have to that is being locked up all the time and sometimes being in situations where the device can be seen.

There’s kind of three levels to this. One is when I’m just walking around wearing jeans or something and the device (especially the Steelheart) can be perceived. I saw that it was visible this morning when I put my jeans on. The bulge of the tube was evident in the mirror in our bedroom, though a slight adjustment made it go away. But that means at other points in the day, the bulge is certainly reemerging and someone could easily see it and I don’t spend a lot of time worrying about that.

The second level is when I’m running. I have some running tights I occasionally wear and thin running shorts and the tights in particular leave little to the imagination. I’m 100% positive people have seen the obvious bulge of the device as I ran by because I’ve seen people look directly at it.

The third level is the TSA. I have been caught by them before and had to show the device. I’ve also been scanned and had the device show up and the agent just waved me though. I used to go though TSA locked all the time and almost always got though unaccosted, but tend not to anymore because I don’t want the hassle.

I can forthrightly say in all these cases I don’t care whatsoever if anyone sees the device. I’m so over it. I know there are some who would say I’m forcing them to participate in my sex life, but I don’t think of it that way. Being permanently locked is a lot more than just “my sex life.” I consider it more a lifestyle than an act. For me, it’s not really optional. It’s who and what I am. Similarly, if anyone saw and asked I’d tell them. But I don’t feel like being locked is optional for me.

Over on Reddit, there was a guy recently who said he didn’t lock up outside the house at all for fear that someone might see the bulge and know he’s locked. Oh, sweet summer child. That’s adorable. Truth is, people (and guys especially) are always checking out our bulges and vanishingly few would see one that’s larger than usual and think it’s anything other than a big dick.

So anyway, maybe it’s different to walk in your own house naked vs. walking in your own house sporting a shiny metal object where your penis used to be. But I think my opinion stands. It’s my house, it’s my body, I’m not hurting anyone. I’m going to keep walking around however I want as I have done for the last 19 years living here. I’m also going to keep going around locked up because I’ve been doing that for almost as long and nobody seems to care.

But, you know, YMMV. Also, young locked newbies, don’t worry about anyone seeing your cute little bulge. You care about it about 1,000x more than they do.

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Contrasting control

I just got back from one of my semi-annual sojourns into the wooded backcountry. These trips used to turn into an excuse to unlock for a week. I’d inflate hygiene issues or physical activity like hiking or the relatively low chance of one of my camping friends somehow finding out about the device into sufficient reason to take it off. Of course, the hygiene part is manageable, the hiking thing is too, and while I’m not advertising I’m also not afraid of anyone finding out I’m locked. So I stay as I’m required to be.

I do, however, take a key for emergency purposes. I recall one time I had shaved prior to going on one of these trips and it was hot and the combination of the stubble, sweat, and friction was very unpleasant. The device had to come off for a few days (though I put it back on ASAP because the exposed contents rubbing around in my pants is its own form of torture). However, this time, in my rush to get on the road, I left the key behind. I didn’t realize this until I was a couple hundred miles from home.

I really don’t recommend not having an emergency key around for, you know, emergencies. But I also do acknowledge that being in an inescapable device you literally cannot get off your body at all is super hot. Not so smart, but hot. Belle and I went on a little trip at Labor Day and the key was forgotten then, too. This is becoming a bit of thing, apparently.

Anyway, turns out I did develop a little hot spot under the ring. The liberal application of silicone lube kept it from turning into something worse. It was basically manageable, though if I had had the key I would have used it. Since I did not, my streak of days being locked remains unbroken at 466 (and I haven’t seen the unlocked contents in 253 days).

Upon returning home, the titanium Orion needed a deep clean so I placed the contents into our venerable Steelheart. Besides the need to clean the Orion, I have found that hotspots can be managed by swapping into a different device whose differently shaped base ring rubs, well, differently. Belle and I are flying in early October so I will be in the Steelheart at least the next three weeks before swapping into the plastic Orion.

The Steelheart produces a very different psychological aspect to my chastity. The Orion devices are smaller, tighter, and lighter and with their integrated PA security end up feeling like they’re fused with my body. The devices and the thing they secure are one.

The Steelheart is relatively roomier and overall larger and much heavier. Unlike the fusion of contents and device I experience in the Orions, the Steelheart is simply a steel tube into which a penis is hanging. I can feel the contents move around in there. I’ve gone from having a device that leaves the contents totally inert and difficult to discern as a separate thing to one that’s clearly a simple and somewhat crude penis prison.

Similarly, the Orion devices lay flatter and are shorter overall where the Steelheart is longer and more basically shaft-shaped so when my hand inevitability finds its way down there, it feels more like a big steel dick. It’s also far easier to get my fingers into the Steelheart tube which, of course, makes cleaning easier but also allows me to feel what the contents are.

Finally, the sensation of having an erection in each of them is very different. The Orion is always full with zero extra room so when the contents get hard, it’s just a feeling of pressure and a knot develops behind the base ring. In the Steelheart, I can feel the contents being forced to conform to the curve of the tube. There is clearly an erection in there, albeit a foreshortened and directed one. The interior circumference of the Steelheart is not too dissimilar from the circumference of the contents when hard so, again, the sensation is less the unified fusion of device and meat I get from the Orion and more imprisoned meat.

Of course, the Steelheart was my main axe for years and I had the “it’s just part of me” feeling while wearing it. I expect if I kept it on long enough I’d get back there again but the Orion just so much more clearly has a configuration that promotes that feeling of fusion. It has the benefit of years of refinement of the male chastity experience behind its design and manufacture. My Steelheart is over 15 years old, after all.

I love the old Steelheart. And I actually do love that I’m getting such a different sensation from wearing it. But this swap reinforces for me that the Orion is the pinnacle chastity experience for me. I’m enjoying the Steelheart but know it won’t be long before I crave the compact control of the Orion again.

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Amorphous want

I was having a really good chat with someone on Bluesky today about how our perceptions of ourselves change the longer we’re locked up. And it got me thinking about whether or not guys getting into chastity today would do it if they knew where it could end up.

Being locked by someone is kind of like one of those things you see in science museums that demonstrate a black hole where you put a quarter in a slot at the top of a convex cone-shaped thing and let it go and then watch the quarter roll round and round and round towards a little hole in the center going faster and faster until it finally goes POP and disappears at the bottom.

The quarter in this analogy is a penis, in case you missed that.

At first, you lock up because it feels hot and the orgasms you get after denial are mind blowing. And, at least for me, as I got to know my own orgasm better though edging and being allowed to fuck but not come, I actually turned into something of a fucking machine. I’d find that spot a hair’s width from orgasm and stop all movement. I’d ejaculate (a lot) but not come all the way. Like I was ruining my own orgasm inside of Belle. And after, I’d still be hard and able to fuck and fuck though my own load without getting back to the point of feeling like I was going to come again. She’d need to tell me when she had had enough. I was Superman. Ah, those were the days.

But the lock ups still got longer. I wanted them to be longer. I craved the feeling of being locked up and denied even the pleasure of fucking her. And she changed too so that keeping me locked up longer and longer wasn’t any great sacrifice. She was perfectly satisfied without the penetration. And then one day I found that my fucking superpower had gone away. I had lost the ability to hold the line on my orgasm. I could’t find it anymore so couldn’t stop it from coming. And then when I came I felt the crash and my attitude would change and she really didn’t like that. And, as my trigger got shorter and shorter, she didn’t like that I couldn’t fuck her for more than a minute or two (if I was lucky), so the times I was allowed out for sex became even less frequent.

But I didn’t mind! I wanted it. I wanted to want to be out more than I wanted out. I craved her pussy. When she came, I wanted to be inside her most of all. I could feel in my tight, locked tube what her pussy felt like as my hard-on slipped in and the sensation was incredibly intense. I actually went through a period, after she had told me I wasn’t likely to fuck her again, where I mourned my loss of that. Of my connection to that most male of acts. Even though I really wanted her to keep me locked forever, just as she was doing.

Similarly, I would crave the feeling of holding my own erection in my hand and jacking it. I wanted that so bad. But also didn’t. I didn’t want it more than I wanted to crave wanting it.

But things are different now. I’ve moved past the cravings for jacking or fucking. I still want. But that’s all it is. A sort of amorphous want of…something. But it’s non-specific. I see guys jacking off on Bluesky and I don’t think of wanting to do that, too. I think of wanting to do it to them. I see videos of guys getting a blow job and similarly never feel like I want to be blown. I see guys fucking women or just super hot women in general (irl and the internet) and the idea of fucking them myself is non-existent. My first, most intense and primal thought is of eating their pussies. Of them grinding down on my face or letting me eat their partner’s load from their beautiful fucked and swollen lips.

My body has forgotten I even have a penis. When I’m out for the brief moments of swapping or cleaning devices, I don’t get hard. I so rarely even get a minor chub from it. Honestly, I don’t even like handling the contents. They feel so small and wet and sad. All crushed and deformed from its confinement, broken and useless for anyone. It’s almost like I’m touching an internal organ. I resent deeply every minute I have to be out. And the contents doesn’t even bother to try to tempt me.

I don’t know for a fact that every guy who locks up will end up a penisless hole like me. A lot of it depends on the needs and wants of the person holding the key, of course. Belle and I took this journey together. Our quarters weren’t always synchronized on the way down, but we ended up in the same place. That same, inexorable destination. She wants me locked up permanently, all the time, end of story. She doesn’t want me to fuck her. Doesn’t miss me fucking her. Feels zero guilt for denying me that pleasure ever again. Feels zero guilt about denying me my orgasm for the rest of my life.

And while I still have the amorphous want, I’m perfectly happy to be kept this way. I’m way past mourning my days of fucking. Well past any desire to jack off. I simply am not equipped — physically, emotionally, mentally — for that sort of thing anymore. The profoundness of being permanently locked and denied has led to a sexual awakening of similar scope and magnitude of going through puberty. I’ve left one life segment and entered another. A whole new world I didn’t know — could not have known — existed.

So, yeah. It makes me wonder. This was not what I was signing up for 17 years ago. But here I am, and I’m happy as a clam. Also, clamped shut tight as a clam, lol. For me, this feels really natural. As I’m supposed to be. As I was born to be. But I could never have even guessed I’d be like this one day. Prior to discovering male chastity, it never would have even remotely crossed my mind.

So I’m quite sure there are guys just locking up for the first time today who are like I was and will end up like I am. It’s just they have no idea at all what they’re in for. Maybe, they can’t even imagine it.