Dick checking

bretts_junkWhen I’m packing the plastic, I often feel as though people are looking at my crotch all the time. I can’t be sure if they really are checking out my package (which certainly can appear more pronounced depending on the pants I’m wearing and the position of the encased meat beneath) or if I’m just more aware of normal dick checking that happens all the time. Turns out, if you’re a guy (even a purportedly straight one), you are dick checking. Like, all the time.

According to an eye-tracking study from 2007, men nearly always looked at George Brett’s crotch when given a chance while women didn’t. In fact, when presented with pictures from the American Kennel Club’s site, men checked out doggie dicks, too. Pervs.

My take-away from this is two-fold. One, men are dick obsessed (and not just with their own – I know, not the biggest shocker ever unearthed). Two, men probably aren’t checking me out more when I’m in chastity, but any women I catch sneaking a peek probably are.

Forest, meet trees

The day after my previous post (you know, the “oh my god, the sky is falling, whatever shall I do” post), Belle and I had another chat. (And this, my friends, is where it gets funny). Turns out, she only wanted to flip off the D/s machine during that encounter. Not, as I heard, for an indefinite period. Just…you know…right then and until we were done.

Oh. Gotcha.

Seriously, we talked for a good half hour and neither of us understood that we had entirely the wrong impression of what the other was saying. I heard, “I can’t do this until I say I can again and I don’t know when that’s going to be,” and she heard, “I’m so mental about all this D/s crap that I can’t even have mutually pleasurable sex with my wife anymore.” It would be funny if it weren’t so…fucked up.

We’ve decided to try communicating while we talk just to see what that’s like.

We will now resume normal programing.

An unexpected turn

Tuesday night, we talked about my continuing funk. Long story short, I no longer felt denied as much as I felt absence. I had come to the point where I wasn’t horny anymore. Even though we had had a few sexual encounters, we both knew my orgasm wasn’t an option, and the in-between time felt like sexual vacuum. Our not-quite-sex sessions (those in which I get hard and horny, and maybe she abuses me a little, but ultimately nothing happens) weren’t occurring since I was not allowed to touch her in that way without her permission. Those sessions are vital, I believe, in maintaining my arousal and frustration in between opportunities to pleasure her. I wasn’t coming, I wasn’t even getting really turned on, so my sex drive kind of curled up and went to sleep. That was my theory, anyway.

In order to help aleve that problem, she said I could start touching her any way I liked again. Wednesday night, I was going to touch the living fuck out of her. Groping, kissing, squeezing, licking – anything and everything she’d let me get away with before pouring the ice water of her feminine control over me and forcing me to stuff it all away. We even texted each other about it during the day. It was going to be fun. Finally, a little action just for me. And yes, even in a D/s arrangement, everyone needs a little something just for them. So the kids were all sleeping, the candles were all lit, and the iPod was making pleasant sounds when I made my move.

Then we had another talk. Turns out, she’s kinda over the whole D/s paradigm at the moment. She’s been very busy at her job working on a big project and said she feels like she’s drifting down a river and all the things she needs to do are little piranha taking bites out of her. Her “responsibilities” as the D were among those piranha. All she wanted was for things to go back to normal for a while. No having to worry about when I’m going to come or be locked up or what the Covenant says or any of that crap. Straight, vanilla relationship. At least for a bit.

She really didn’t think that little bombshell would ruin the moment. Seriously. More than anything else, I understand that least of all. God knows, these things happen. At any other moment in any other setting, we could have reasoned through it. I do understand where she’s coming from. But, at the very moment she laid this on me, I was naked, hard, wearing the big steel cock ring, and had her nipple between my fingertips. After, I was quiet, introspective, felt untethered, and was once again uninterested in sex.

I don’t think Belle understands how much our D/s has impacted me. My entire approach to sex and sexual gratification has been rewritten. To simply turn all that off and go back to the old days just isn’t something I can do on command. I could do it situationally. That is, if she integrated it into the D/s dynamic and, in effect, ordered me to behave the way she wanted. But instead, she pulled the plug. Thinking back, she may have actually pulled it over a week ago. It’s hard to say, but the funk I’ve been in could just as easily been caused by her undeclared decision to pull back from the D/s (whether or not that was even done consciously on her part). I wanted to make it my problem, but it could have been mutual. I don’t know. Not that it much matters at this point.

This morning, I masturbated to orgasm. It did not feel good, I didn’t enjoy it, and I wasn’t especially interested in having an orgasm. But I did it just the same. And now I feel terrible. Why? I’m no longer bound by the Covenant. She’s not interested in controlling my emissions. For the time being, I’m just as free as any other wanker in the world. All that’s true, but in fact, that act was my response to her decision from the previous night. It was probably rash and really not necessary, but it was the only way I could tease out a little show of control in a situation I really have no control over. So now the guy interested in being controlled by his wife is trying to find ways of fighting his lack of control? WTF?

My plan at this point is to stop talking about it. I know how to be her “normal” husband, so that’s what I’ll be. I really just want to move past this. If I’m something else in the future, that’s up to her. It could be a day, week, month or never. But I can’t make her do something she’s not interested in and, honestly, I wouldn’t want it that way even if I could.

Regarding this blog, what is the point of writing about Thumper if he’s not being denied? Good question. There seems to be a lot of this kind of talk going around lately. I guess we’ll have to see if I’m capable of forming coherent thoughts around what’s in my head or if I even feel the need to write them down if I do.

Whimpering, doggie-style

My dog hates it when Belle beats me. I’m sure he thinks that if I’m getting the crap beat out of me, then he’s next on the list. The problem he presents is twofold. We can’t leave him outside our room because he’ll want to come in and will sit out in the hall and whine, scratch, etc., eventually waking the kids. Having him in the room is problematic since he’s a major distraction. Kinda hard to really get off on being whipped when the dog is pacing around whimpering and trying to sqeeze into places too small for him. By the time she was through working her aggression out on my ass, the dog was hiding under the bed and didn’t want to come out.

“Thumper’s Choice”, for those who are curious, involved being tied to the bed on my stomach, wrists secured by handcuffs, handcuffs strapped to the headboard, ankles separately cuffed and strapped to the footboard. I could almost raise myself up on my elbows and knees. She blindfolded me, rubbed some Icy Hot on my nuts and nipples, and proceeded to flog my ass with her little toy flogger. I call it a toy because it’s just a bunch of thin rubber cords on a plastic handle. Not the most beautiful of implements, but it was what we got at the beginning of our exploration. While it looks like a toy, it definitely does not feel like one. When she gets going with it, the resulting stinging and burning can get pretty intense. Still, I’d like to get something a little sexier.

It was a longer session that usual, though I can’t tell how long. I kind get all timeless when she’s hurting me. I know it was long enough for the Icy Hot to stop burning like a motherfucker, so maybe 30 minutes? I dunno. There were times when the combination of the burning nuts and the hard, repetitive striking of my ass was nearly more than I could handle, but the times in between were heavenly. She’d lazily brush just the ends of the flogger along my spine, over my ass, and then up between my cheeks. Just when I was grooving to the gentle sweetness of it, arching my back and raising my ass into the air, I’d hear the thin rubber strands whistle through the air a microsecond before they struck me again. She’s getting pretty good at the hitting thing. She even said she enjoyed it. Says it’s cathartic. Well, baby, you can get your catharsis out on my ass whenever you want.

Afterward, she wouldn’t let me get her off. I had to wait until last night for that. She told me to give her a back and shoulder massage (with the oil) before having me use the little pink vibrator on her. Again, not good with keeping time, but she came so hard and so fast it felt like it was over before it even got started. I have to admit, I felt somewhat cheated. Seriously, it was maybe ten seconds from the time I put the vibe against her clit and the time she started to come. Through all this, she never let me get naked – not even when we went to sleep. I wanted to. A lot. But she never gave the word. This means one of two things. One, she just forgot. I can’t explain why (trust me, I just started and erased four different attempts), but simply forgetting to allow me to do this would leave me feeling a little neglected. Kinda like forgetting to feed the dog or something. Anyway, the other option is she was purposefully withholding that permission. In which case, telling me she was doing so would have felt better, as it does whenever she demonstrates her control over me.

Speaking of which, I’m still not feeling the subby vibe. In fact, I’ve been in a funk for about a week and it’s getting funkier. I’m not panicking and questioning my entire world order as I have previously when this has happened. I’ve learned over the past four months that being flooded with all these hormones and abdicating self-determination regarding my sexual satisfaction makes me emotionally vulnerable. The slightest thing can push me into the mood I’m in right now. I know it’ll work itself out shortly. At least, I hope it will.

Status update

I swear my balls are getting bigger. I know, you’d think I’d have something more profound to say following a week of no blogging, but it’s the first thing that that comes to mind. My balls are getting bigger. I think. Not sure if that’s a side-effect of carrying around all these extra hormones (or, for that matter, if denial actually increases testosterone levels), but to my hand (a hand with a long and intimate relationship with these particular testis), they feel fatter.

My last pleasurable orgasm was back on the 19th of February. Since then, I’ve had a number of ruined orgasms (one through over stimulation and the others abandoned – the better of the two methods, I’ve found). In fact, the other night Belle told me after her orgasm to ruin the one I wanted so badly. I was able to get two ejaculations out of myself that night without the pleasurable finish. It left me feeling even more aroused and sexually charged than I was beforehand, so “allowing” me to do this to myself is an effective way for her to increase my desperation.

Even so, I’ve not found myself to be very submissive lately. I don’t know if the ruined orgasms have been part of that mindshift or not, but I just haven’t been feeling it. She was sick and had her period most of last week, so that might have something to do with it. Since I can’t really do anything to relieve my sexual needs without her, when she’s that out of it, my libido kind of shuts down. It’s probable that my submissiveness is powered by my libido. In any event, the only time I felt a pang of submissiveness was Thursday night when she came home from work. I heard her voice, knew her period would be over, and suspected my chances of getting some were the best they’d been in a week. A little knot of subbiness flared in my chest. That was the night she let me give her an orgasm and I ruined my own, but any subby tendencies didn’t last.

Tonight, she’s going to hurt me. Says it’s Thumper’s Choice night. I’m not sure what I want her to do, but I know it’ll involve restraints. Maybe it’s time to break out the Icy Hot again. Of course, she’ll hit me with something. If she let’s me make her come, I’m hoping that’ll be a big enough shock to the system to put things back the way I like them.

Regarding chastity, I’m still out. No idea when she’ll put me back in again, but when she let me out she mentioned needing to try for nice round month at some point. I’m still in that period where not being locked up feels weird and oddly luxurious. I know I’m touching her cock a hell of a lot. Rubbing it, getting it hard, edging myself…just because I can. I’m not supposed to do any of that without permission, but she granted it to me when she let me out. Until she says I can’t anymore, I’m going to keep going with the assumption that I can.

The last thing of note that occurred last week was my finally being able to get the 6ga segment ring into my PA piercing. I can’t say why this time it worked when previously it didn’t (except that the hole was well lubricated with urine…what? TMI? Even for a blog like this one?). Since the gauge is larger, getting the segment in was a lot hard than the ball in my 8ga ring. Basically, it’s in there for good until I get an opening tool.

Well, that’s all I got. If something interesting happens, you’ll be the first to know about it. Check you later, taters.

Birdy for Birdlock

An alarming number of people keep coming to my site each day looking for information about the Birdlock. I feel somewhat guilty about this since there’s an alarming lack of information on the Birdlock to be found here. To help rectify this situation, I’ve decided to post a bunch of second-hand hearsay and pretend like it’s content.

My main source of data on this device comes from the Male Chastity Device forum. There’s a longish thread going on there where people are posting questions and first-hand accounts of the new bird on the block. However, there has also been some discussion over on Fetlife. Here is a summary of what people are experiencing:

  • Men with high, close-hanging scrotums are having issues getting the thing on. The “A-ring” portion of the device is over an inch wide and some guys’ balls just don’t hang far enough from thier bodies to allow the device to be worn comfortably. If you’ve got a high and tight sack, consider yourself warned.
  • Men with larger or smaller than average packages are also having issues. Since it’s a one-size-fits-most kind of deal, some will not be able to wear it. You can special order a smaller unit directly from the manufacturer, but larger guys are (so far) out of luck.
  • The stretchy, clingy nature of the silicone seems to be an issue for some. In fact, one guy reports actually bloodying himself trying to get it on. Copious lube seems to be the answer here, but the very nature of the substance it’s made of might make skin irritation an issue with prolonged use. I have a silicone cock ring I can’t wear for more than a day because the silicone is very grabby and rubs my skin raw. I would expect the same might happen with the Birdlock.

All that being said, there are also positive reviews. Some men are reporting it to be a comfortable, effective, respectably secure device. In addition, nighttime comfort appears to be high. As with so many things, YMMV.

Personally, I have not yet decided if I’m getting one. Here are my issues:

  • I suspect that the stretchy nature of the material will allow me to kneed, squish, and otherwise stimulate myself. One of the things I especially like about the CB-6000’s cage is that I can’t feel my own member. I can provide very little stimulation to myself while wearing it. That’s one of the whole points of having it on.
  • I’m not entirely sure the silicone will be more comfortable against my skin than the hard polycarbonate of the CB6K, especially as the lube wears off.
  • I’m not looking for a more comfortable device.  I have grown accustomed to and appreciative of the feeling of the CB6K, even at night. In my opinion, a certain level of discomfort is an integral part of the forced chastity experience. Since it’s not more than I can bear, I feel that getting a more comfortable device would be excessively indulgent on my part.

The very best news with regard to the Birdlock is Tom Allen’s comment that he’s getting one. I will patiently await hearing his impressions. In the mean time, I’m sticking with my little hard plastic buddy.

Marked man

I love it when Belle marks me. Whether it’s by biting me or giving me hickies or raising welts, I like to think her marks are representative of her power, control, and ownership. When she makes them, she’s leaving evidence that the body which displays them is hers, to do with what she likes, even if what she likes is to damage it. Uber hot. I get all light in the chest just writing about it. So you can imagine what I felt when she mentioned she should brand me.

Lucky bunny
Lucky bunny

That’s how I found myself laying over her legs, ass in the air, several hours later getting tickled by the tip of a black Sharpie dancing over my skin. She drew what you see to the right: a little bunny under a horseshoe with “BFR” written over it. “BFR” stands for Belle Fille Ranch which, apparently, is a rabbit ranch. That I can’t see the brand without a mirror makes it that much hotter.

I wasn’t really expecting any serious action what with her not feeling 100% and all, but once her mark was upon me, my passions were running pretty high. I was on all fours, her beneath me, and my right knee strategically placed so as to press my thigh firmly against her pussy, moving subtly as my body shifted. All I did was kiss her face and neck, but my thigh could feel the heat between her legs start to build. Her hand started to carass my inner thighs and I moaned, desperate to feel her touch higher up. She eventually did, lightly stroking my tight, constricted scrotum. Fuck, did I want that cage off. She gripped the tube of the CB6K and started to stroke it as if she was masturbating me, but that only drove my frustration higher since all she was doing was pushing and pulling the entire contraption and torturing my already strecthed balls. I found myself fighting once again the overpowering urge to bite her, to consume her, to gather her up in my arms and crush her. I knew – knew – that there would be no release for me. Instead of fighting it and causing a scene, I let the inevitability of her control wash over and calm me.

When she told me to make her come, I focused everything above her waist. I fingered and licked her nipples and kissed her mouth much longer than I would normally. I knew she wanted me to move south, to give her pussy some attention, but I stayed up north, letting her get just the slightest taste of tease and denial. I did eventually bring my hand down to her pussy, but I merely let it graze ever so lightly over her lips. Her hips squirmed and raised up, trying to make better contact with my fingers, but I kept them just close enough that she knew they were there but too far away to actually feel them. She was moaning freely.

When I finally let my fingers touch her, she was soaked and slicked with arousal. It took about two minutes to bring her to climax. When she started to come, my finger was still lightly resting on her clit. She arched her back and grabbed my hand, pressing me harder into herself, forcing my finger deeper into her pussy. The orgasm shuddered though her and I actually felt three distinct little waves of tightly focused muscle contractions move over the tips of my fingers.

Easliy one of the most intense orgasms I’ve ever given her. Seriously, top three.

This morning, she finally released me from the CB6K. Plus, she let me have a ruined orgasm. What a kind and benevolent dictator she is!

This time, we tried the abandoned version of the ruined orgasm (as opposed to the over-stimulated version we tried before). She layed next to me, running her fingers though my chest hair and teasing my nipples and watched while I wrapped my fist around the freely hard cock. Sweet jesus, did that feel good. I had barely started and was already leaking freely.

I jacked off until I felt the first stirrings of the orgasm approaching, then pulled my hand off quickly. A tiny little dribble came out. We decided that wasn’t good enough, so I started in again. It took a lot longer to get back to that place the second time, though I had barely come. Eventually, I felt it again – the tickling, tingling sensation of impending orgasm. I gave myself maybe two or three extra strokes and this time had a fairly respectable hands-free ejaculation, though without the volume I’d have expected. Indeed, it was no orgasm. I felt none of the post-orgasmic high. No refraction. Just a few minutes later, I was still profoundly arroused. I asked her to pinch my nipple just to make sure. Oh yeah, that felt good. I was still horny as hell.


Did you know universally beloved sex advice columnist Dan Savage had two – count ’em – two T&D/chastity-related questions in two weeks? As he said, it’s a trend!

The first question dealt with penis desensitizing and can be found here. The second involves the eternal question of denial and prostate health and can be found here (after the question from the lady who’s husband likes to fuck around).

I hope next to hear them talking about this on the View. A guy can dream, can’t he?

Did I mention I was horny?

Good god, it’s been a little stuffy around here lately! Isn’t this supposed to be a sex blog?! So get on with the sex, already!

Well, we did have sex just one lonesome time this week. It was nothing I haven’t described here before (you know the drill: she abuses me a little, I make her come, we go to sleep). I continue to be amazed at how my entire being has adjusted to not having orgasms. She gets me all worked up with the biting and scratching and the general abuse and all I want to do in return is give her pleasure. Once she’s had her orgasm, I get all sleepy and a form of contentedness envelopes me. Yes, I’m still horny. Horny as hell. Twenty-four hours a fucking day I’m horny. The carnivorous butterflies have returned and I find myself clawing at the device, desperate to get my hand around an honest-to-god hard-on, but all that’s separate now from our sex. When we have sex, it’s all about her. Whatever she gives me during those times is gravy. The main course his her ecstasy. I derive satisfaction from hers.

Speaking of the device, it’s been sixteen days. She mentioned to me yesterday that she thought she was going to let me out the day before, but after a few minutes, decided not to. Just because. Just because she could. Still no indication of when my incarceration might end. I’m doing my best not to ask, but jesus am I getting claustrophobic in this thing.

It may be my best friend at the moment, though. She’s told me that I won’t have any pleasurable orgasms in March, and that’s just a week old. Did I mention I was horny? Fucking god, I’m horny. All that clawing at the device is probably a pretty good indication that, once granted access to that particular thing attached to my body, I’d be somewhat preoccupied with it. According to the Covenant, I’m not supposed to use it in a way that gives me pleasure without her approval. So, assuming I wouldn’t get that, maybe the best place for it is exactly where it is at the moment. I have will power, but no man’s perfect.

And, finally, to complicate everything and potentially cause problems with our weekend fun, Belle’s come down with something. Her throat hurts and she feels crappy. I’m pumping her full of zinc with the hopes she’ll feel better later. If not, it’ll continue to be quiet on the sex front.