Libéré en étant enfermé
Steve “The Glow Inside” Mayhew has returned. One of my most favorite bloggers is back and apparently has been for a week or so. PLUS, not only that, he’s now packing some kind of chastity device.
I can’t tell you how happy this makes me. Honestly.
Unfortunately, I just discovered this and have to run out so I can’t actually read what Steve has to say. But you can. Go. Now. I’ll catch up with you later.
Belle had wanted me in the PA-5000 through today, but I was forced to request I go back in the Steelheart a day early. The PA hook had been bothering me all day, just a bit to begin with, but more and more as the day wore on. By the time we got into bed and she was teasing me (which, BTW, is actually one of the PA5K’s cooler benefits), the inside of my piercing was hurting pretty bad. Mind you, I like hurting and all, but not this kind. I don’t think Belle was taking me seriously at first, because she told me to just lay down and relax (as if it were an erection thing), but I eventually made her understand I wasn’t just being whiny.
Once the the PA hook was unlocked, I tried to remove it but it wouldn’t budge. I’m not sure if it’s like this for everyone, but the plastic hook was grabbing onto the skin inside of my piercing. I had to lubricate to get it out. Undoubtedly, this was the cause of my discomfort. I was disappointed I didn’t make it as long as Belle wanted (and I think she was, too), but I have to admit it was nice being back in the friendly confines of the Steelheart (even if it was cold as hell after a couple days jammed into the back of the bathroom drawer).
I’m willing to give the PA5K another chance at some point. It seems clear that I’ll need to try to keep the hook lubricated just like the CB6K’s ring. Also, I might just need to toughen up the affected area.
I have decided to start a new forum for male chastity enthusiasts. I did this because the one I had previously endorsed has decided to start running some skeezy ads. That decision made me realize that I really have no idea whose forum that was. There was just this mysterious “Admin” guy who showed up irregularly and didn’t really participate. Who is this guy? Is he one of us? What are his intentions? No idea.
So anyway, I know a little something about forums. And I like forums. So, start one I did. I hope you’ll join me and help make it the best place on the web for male chastity enthusiasts to discuss their lives. I’d prefer if the French maid outfit/sissy clitty crowd remain over on Chastity Mansion because they seem very happy there and, really, why not just leave it that way? Chastity Forums is for the rest of us. You know who you are.
Here are some photos of me in the PA-5000. The first shows me in a mostly flaccid state, the next two give better detail to how the device works, and the fourth is me in a erect-ish state (maybe 85% hard). These will eventually be included in a more detailed review of the device, but I thought I’d share them in the mean time.
Pics after the jump…
Belle thinks it’s funny to name my chastity devices. That means last night, after the PA-5000’s box had been opened and the enclosed device secured onto the cock, she was running through a bunch of, “I think we should call it…” scenarios.
I thought most of the names were kinda silly, so I said (maybe more shortly than I should have), “I think we should call it the one I wear when I’m away from you.”
To which she replied, “I think we should call it the one you wear when I tell you to.”
Snap!
“Sorry, Belle Fille,” I said, quietly.
“Let’s not forget who’s in charge around here, OK?”
“You’re in charge, Belle Fille.”
“That’s right.”
—
My first impression of the PA5K is that it feels really weird compared to the other devices I’ve worn. It’s very light and, as anyone can see, it doesn’t involved anything more then the end of the erect shaft. It’s sort of a tease for someone like me, accustomed to a full trapped-ball device, since it feels, when flaccid, that I’m free to have an erection. And, in fact, I can achieve pretty much a full erection. It’s like I have a cock again. However, I can’t do a damned thing with it.
For those of you reading this who don’t have penises attached to your bodies, understand that in order to successfully jack off, you need to be able to stimulate the area of the penis on the bottom of the shaft and adjacent to the head. In other words, right where the lock on the PA5K sits. Typically, this involves grasping and rolling whatever foreskin you have up and over the penis head (with or without lubrication). Also, not possible with the PA5K. It not only covers the money zone of penile stimulation, it also anchors that area to the wearer’s PA hole. Basically, it makes that entire area static and untouchable. So, you know, a fairly effective chastity device.
That said, it’s not the experience I’m used to. It doesn’t arrest the erection much at all. Also, there’s no ancillary sensation around my scrotum. Also also, I can jack off about 60% of the hard cock, though as I said, it’s the wrong 60%. I probably could not masturbate to orgasm wearing the PA5K and it’s enough of a deterrent that I’m not likely to try for very long.
On a chastity intensity scale of 1-10 where the CB6K is (or can be fitted to be) about an 8.5 and my Steelheart is about a 7, the PA5K is about a 4. Maybe less. It’s been really easy to live with in the 20 hours or so I’ve been wearing it.
The only issue I’ve had so far is with pain around my PA. It was worse in the morning, but I don’t think it had anything to do with the erection. First of all, the “ring” part that slips up and into my piercing doesn’t move around or hang down into my urethra like a real ring. Instead of shifting around as my position does, it stays fixed relative to the hole and makes the meat move around it. This is putting areas of my urethra into contact with the device that normally don’t touch my PA jewelry much at all. Second, it’s made of plastic which, as I’ve mentioned before in discussing the drawbacks of the CB6K, tends to grab my skin (even the skin inside the cock). In the morning when everything is try, I can really feel it.
With regard to fit, I probably could have bought the middle size. When I measured the cock before, I was doing so around the base where it’s thicker. Up near the end, where it’s narrower, the PA5K nearly perfectly encircles the erect shaft. When flaccid, there can be a fair amount of space between it and me. It’s not a bad fit (or, at least, it doesn’t seem to be). In fact, it provides a very subtle pressure when hard. Quite easy to deal with compared to the cramped confines of the CB6K tube.
Regardless of what Belle wants to call it, I think it will end up being the perfect travelling chastity companion. She’s decided that I will wear it until Sunday night to make sure it’s acceptable, then I’m back to serving hard time in the Steelheart until the time comes that I need to fly.
—
After she allowed me to give her an orgasm, and while I was pressing my erect yet still chastised cock into her ass as she was falling to sleep, I said, “God, I want to fuck you so bad right now.”
“Thumper, it’s hardly been two weeks yet,” she scolded me gently, “You’ve got a long way to go before that’s going to happen.”
“I know, but I really want to.”
“You’ll need to do better than that when it’s time for the sesquicentennial.”
“Sesquicentennial? You’re going to leave me locked up for 150 years?” I asked.
“No, but the times coming when I’ll leave you in for 150 days.”
Whimper. “A hundred and fifty days is a long time,” I said quietly.
“Yes,” she replied, “but you’re up to it.”
“I kinda like watching you squirm. When you’re like this.”
Belle said that to me last night as we were laying in bed and I was looking up at her, imploring her to allow me to share in her orgasm. It was a no-go, but she let me dangle just long enough for me to get really squirrelly.
“Whimper,” I replied.
A little while later, after I had internalized the hormones from earlier, I thought about how I’d like to work myself over with the Njoy pur (and whatever else struck my fancy). But, as I’ve mentioned before, Belle doesn’t let me do anything sexual with my body without her permission. No ass play, no self-administered nipple torture, no solo activities of any kind (other than the consumption of porn). I have to ask first.
“So, how’s this work?” I asked. “If I want to play around by myself. Do you give me permission in advance…?” I trailed off.
“Sure. You don’t have to run off and do it as soon as I say yes. You can do it whenever you want.”
Which is a relief. The only thing more embarrassing that having to ask your wife if you can masturbate (even with a locked cock) is having to then scamper off and lock yourself in the bathroom…where she knows what you’re doing.
“So will I have blanket permission for a certain period…or what?” It seemed to me that it made sense to let me have permission to take advantage of whatever private moment I could find, but how would she know when I was done? Seemed like I could find a way to abuse that arrangement.
“We need a token,” I said. “Something physical that I have to get from you that allows me to play with myself that I can give back when I’m done or that you can take back when you want to.”
“Like the little reward tokens at daycare?” she joked.
“Pretty much exactly like that, yes.” I said. “Can I have the token now?”
“What token? We don’t have one.”
“I don’t know. Can’t we have a virtual token or something for the time being?”
“OK, sure. You can have it. We need to pick something.”
“Agreed. Thank you, Belle Fille.”
Then she more or less fell asleep. I almost drifted off, but, as usual, my buzzing sexual background radiation woke me back up. I was laying there, spooning into her, wide awake. And still in my pajamas. She had forgotten to give me permission to take them off. Damn.
I rolled over and read porn. Lots and lots. Kristen again, but also Nifty. Nifty is mostly gay stuff and I’m finding recently that my pendulum is swinging back in that direction. As I peruse the Tumblr porn tsunami, I tend to linger on the gratuitous cock shots. I don’t have any particular urge to do anything with them when I see them, but not having a hard cock of my own to appreciate, I’m draw to these others instead. Fat ones, fatter ones, soft(ish) ones, hard ones, smooth ones, hairy ones, flying ones, big ones, really big ones – all kinds. I’m a little obsessed. I stare at them, slack-jawed. Sometimes, when I get like this and I’m all locked up and can’t see a real live hard cock for myself, I feel kinda like a third sex. I don’t have what they have. Instead, I have this hard shiny thing that gets really uncomfortably tight from time to time.
Anyway, I’d read some porn, then roll over to try to sleep. But my brain would keep working and I’d be drawn back to the iPad to read just one more story. Well, that one wasn’t all that good. Maybe just one more. Fuck the device is tight. This is killing my nuts. OK, time to sleep. *sigh* I’m not tired. Damn, iPad’s back on again. And so on. I eventually did drift off about 2:30 or so only to be woken by a late-summer thunderstorm. Belle woke up, too, so I spooned back into her again, just as I had done hours earlier.
“You can take off your clothes, Thumper,” she said sleepily as she rolled over.
“Thank you, Belle Fille.”
And then I slept.
Even though I spent a lot of time writing yesterday’s post (well, relatively a lot of time – truth is I’m usually just kinda banging them out), I’m not sure I adequately captured the point I wanted to make.
Yes, I am much better recently at coping with the fact that Belle’s totally in control of sex. No, that does not mean I’m not still trying to get down her pants whenever she lets me get away with it. I said something about giving up my right to sex and that’s not entirely right. I still expect we’ll have sex, but that’s because she’ll want it, not me. What I’ve given up is any right to being a party to deciding if and when it’ll happen. I might come on to her and try to get her interested, but it’s entirely her decision. She has the right to shut me down whenever she wants and I have the right to deal with it.
The thing I especially want her to try to get over is worrying about disappointing me. It kills me to think she’ll feel guilty. Even if she says we’ll have sex at some point and she decides she’s really not in the mood when the time comes, that’s OK. My disappointment is an unavoidable side effect of the dynamic. This will be hard for her, I know, but I’m being really and truly genuine.
The hardest thing to deal with regarding this whole enforced chastity thing (at least the way we play it) isn’t being physically locked or not coming for weeks and months or anything like that. The hardest thing to deal with, for me, has been really and truly accepting that she has control over my sex. All the time, no matter what. I’ve struggled with that over the nearly two years (seriously? has it been two years already?) since I gave her the cock, sometimes more successfully than others. Lately, though, I feel like my ability to deal with this reality has improved.
Fundamentally, I’m a fairly self-centered and selfish person. Not to a fault, but my default POV regarding any situation is usually to ask how it can be made to benefit me. I am, to put it bluntly, spoiled. It may be partly the effect of being an only child, but I don’t thing it’s that simple. In any event, top that with a healthy frosting of control-freak tendencies and mild obsessive-compulsiveness and you end up with a person who has to try very hard to see when he’s being selfish.
But that’s what I have always been with regard to sex. Even before Belle, but especially after chastity entered our lives. Before, if I was in need, I could take the situation in hand and resolve it (and resent her for not being a part of it). Now, that’s simply not possible. She’s the sole focus of my sex drive. On occasion, all that pent up energy has led me to become too pushy. Too much focused on my urges and not enough on hers. So much so that I’ve forgotten our deal. The deal I proposed and wanted.
At the end of my last lock-up, there was a period in which we had no sex. Maybe 10 days or so. I really wanted it, but she never responded to my advances and made none of her own. I don’t know what the deal was, but anyone in a relationship knows this happens from time to time. In the past, something like that would have seen me building up pressure like a propane tank with a faulty safety valve. Eventually, there would have been words and hurt feelings and all kinds of nastiness. But not this time. All I needed to know was that she hadn’t forgotten me. That she knew I was still there and still dealing with the consequences of what I had given her. That was all. Somehow, that was enough to help me deal. Oh yeah, I still wanted to feel her hot wet pussy and eat her all up, but the feeling was in stasis. Waiting for her to need it.
This is a big deal. Somehow, all the months of denial – from ejaculation and access to my own body – have made me lose the feeling of being owed sex by her. As if it was an entitlement. It is not mine anymore. I have willingly given up my right to it. And I know it. I can feel it.
Frankly, the thought that I’d someday be in this place scared me. I don’t know why. Maybe I thought truly submitting my sexuality to hers would mean I’d lose mine. That by not acting on my urges or by insufficiently acknowledging them, they’d go away. Or something. I don’t know. What I do know is that submitting (or “surrendering” as the cool kids are calling it 😉 ) is really hard.
This doesn’t mean I’m still not horny as hell. I am. I’m all kinds of horny. But I’m not going to pressure her no matter how bad it gets. I will still struggle from time to time, but I know that this is how things are supposed to be between us. I feel like I’ve reached a high ground and, when things get bad, I’ll only need to find it again and not wonder if it exists at all.
The thing I really want Belle to know with regard to this is that she should never feel guilty. Not even a little. When she feels that way she tends to close up, get quiet, and let it fester and then it blows all out of proportion. I want her to know she can manage our sex lives in any way she wants. That I really want her feel the freedom to do or not do anything. I will be OK.
And if I’m ever acting like I’m not OK, please remind me of this post and tell me I’m just being a spoiled brat.
It occurs to me that I’ll be travelling at the end of October. Those of you keeping score at home realize that the end of October would be a little over half way through the three month program Belle placed me on the other day. Everyone else with even a passing understanding of me and my horny rabbit brain knows I can’t be trusted to keep my hands off the meat, especially after six or seven weeks…alone…in a hotel room. Oh, god yes. That would be fantastic…
So, yeah, I will need to be secured. And the Steelheart can’t fly. I’ve been trying to figure out ways of travelling with it, but they all require me having a key since Belle won’t be with me. If I have the key and am expected to take it off prior to x-ray and such, then I might as well leave it at home. I’m a good rabbit, but still just a dumb bunny. The temptation would be too great.
I suppose I could always break out the old CB-6000, but Belle seems to have retired it permanently. This is based on aesthetics more than anything else and, as I said, she won’t be with me, so maybe she’d be OK with me wearing it. The stainless-looking model is off the table since, as I’ve pointed out, it’s very rough on the cock and I’m not even sure the chrome finish wouldn’t trigger the metal detector anyway.
The other option is a new device. Travel wear, as it were. Something for those times when the full metal jacket is not practical. Given a choice between using something old or buying something new, I tend to lean towards the new stuff. And that’s lead me to the PA-5000. I’ve read several reviews so I know it’s not perfect, but all I really need is a physical barrier sufficient to making jacking off difficult. I need a deterrent.
I’ve been very curious about the PA5K since it came out. I have no idea what it will feel like. Chastity has always been equal parts cock and ball constriction. Now, it will just be the cock. Also, large portions of it will be open to sensation. Very different than the Steelheart which sometimes feels like a sensory depravation chamber.
I think I measured it right. The tube come in three sizes and they recommend a quarter inch larger than your flaccid state. I measured this quite a while back and I’m about 34mm (about 1.33″) in diameter when soft, but the largest tube they sell has a diameter of 31.75mm (1.25″). When hard, I’m 40mm (about 1.57″) in diameter, so the tube will definitely be snug. I am not accustomed to ever wearing the largest of anything on the cock, so I guess we’ll just see how it goes. The funny thing about penises is they’re highly variable little hunks of meat. I’m sure it will work out. Expect a full report as soon as Belle lets me wear it.
On other fronts, I’m starting just my sixth day of lock-up after being in for two months. I can say that, right now, I’m way hornier at six days than I was at six weeks. Funny how that works. Belle (and everyone in the house) went to bed kind of early last night leaving me wide-eyed and restless. I eventually picked up my phone and started reading stories on the Kristen Archives (the porn site for every perversion). Hours later, I finally put the phone down, exhausted, only to fall into a very restless sleep.
I’ve said before that I don’t often get blue balls, but I had them last night and right up until this morning. Yeah, part of the ache was caused by the ring and the near constant erection I had all night, but it was way worse than usual. They felt much more swollen and tender. There was definitely a big load of something backing up in there. Every time I’d turn over, the device would flop heavily from one side to the other taking my fat balls with it. I couldn’t find a comfortable position and each time I moved to a new one it’d get another wave of achy ball pain.
I was awake way before Belle and, as soon as I figured out she was up, too, I was all over her. It’s that non-specific sexual urge feeling where I just want to squeeze her into a ball and grind my steel tube into her. I was breathing hard and kissing her mouth and trying my best not to bite her face when she said, “Why don’t you put that energy into making my coffee?”
“Anything, Belle Fille. Anything you want,” I said breathily, “It’s all for you.”
Responses to two commenters that I, in my fevered brain, think tie together into a unified arch.
First up, palemale said:
I am a little disappointed that you were allowed to orgasm. So many site have men claiming to be in chastity for a year and they just aren’t believable. You on the other hand seem exceedingly truthful and I was hoping that Belle would deny you an orgasm for a full year.
A year.
OK, we’ll come back to that.
Disappointed? Well, not me. Not this time. I think there’s a point up to which I want to be denied longer but after which I’m really OK with being released. This time, when she told me two months in that I was going to orgasm, I was able to shift from indefinite denial mode to really wanting to come mode very quickly. I’ve become so accustomed to being denied and, frankly, enjoy it so much that it has to be a really long time before I get there. A few weeks wouldn’t cut it. A month wouldn’t. Two months – at least this time around – was enough. Yeah, I was prepared to go longer. I would have loved if she had made me go longer. But it didn’t make much difference since I was ready.
With regard to other blogs, I can’t say of course. I think some of them are pure fantasy. I think others are truthful. The thing I’ve come to realize is each guy is unique and each guy is at a different point at the path in their orgasm denial journey so what’s long for me might not be for another guy. And, of course, being in chastity and being denied orgasm are different things. Belle seems to be treating them as one and the same (i.e., I will be locked up and denied for at least three months). Honestly, without the device, I don’t think I could be denied three months. I’d never make it. But I digress…
A year. I’ll admit that a full year is a personal goal. But, until such time Belle decides that’s going to happen, it will remain just a goal. I don’t yet know if there’s a difference between two, three, six, nine, or twelve months. And if you get to a whole year, what’s next? Indefinitely? Forever? The thought makes my heart race, I admit. But again, it’s not my decision.
Palemale went on to say:
I particularly liked your comments about the let down you feel after being allowed to orgasm. I would love to hear more about the specifics how your natural urge to have sex changes with exceeding long periods of denial, even denial of milking your prostate.
Which is related to what the next commenter, NaamPC, said:
Myself, if I had been released after two months of captivity and told I could cum, my first though would have been, “Bend over, please.” After all, you have been doing what and how much with her with so very little for yourself that by denying yourself the very first cum after your incarceration being inside of her, and letting your hand do the work, it seems to me you cheated yourself out of that experience.
I didn’t feel cheated at all. Because, and in regard to palemale’s question, I find that the longer I go the more I want come by my own hand. Or, to be more precise, the more I hope she’ll let me come that way. Of course, I want to fuck her, too, but when I dream about it (and claw at the device and writhe and grind into the mattress), more often than not I want to get a hold of it and pull an orgasm out. I also crave to be inside her, but that’s not equitable anymore to having an orgasm (that is, fucking ≠ orgasm). Those are separate urges for me now. Remember, I was denied not just orgasm for two months, I was also denied access to an important part of my body (for all but a day). When locked up, I am physically disconnected from something I’ve had easy access to for over 40 years. The urge to reconnect with myself becomes just as strong as my urge to connect with her. And, of course, I do connect with her, even when I’m locked up, since I get to make her come with my hands or my mouth or whatever. My connection to her sexual pleasure is so strong now that it’s as if it never existed before.
Long way to say, I desire not just orgasm at the end, I also desire jacking off. A lot.
With regard to palemale’s question about prostate milking, I don’t find it offers any kind of relief from the frustration of denial. It only serves to make me even more horny afterward. I enjoy it immensely while it’s happening, but that’s all. It never culminates into anything that blows off steam.
NammPC then said:
With me, arrangements would gave been made before-hand to let her have whatever time she felt she wanted for herself and after that when it’s my turn, I really am going because it’s my turn. Yourself, you think and feel what you’re going to. That’s my thought on it.
You’re assuming there is a “my turn”. Be that as it may, it’s also true that when the first opportunity to come after a really long time presents itself, the old boner’s on a hair trigger. If she wants a nice long fuck by the biocock, that’s not going to be in the cards right out of the gate. That’s what led to the idea of letting me come in the morning. Didn’t turn out this time, but I still think it’s the right strategy. When she finally did get her ride, I didn’t come and wasn’t really all that close when she did. It would have worked…if only I could have gotten it up.