Last night, Belle and I had a fight. A screaming, nasty, bitter fight. It wasn’t about sex or anything like that, but it was unresolved when she fell asleep and we woke up this morning on tender hooks around each other and even this evening (though perhaps less so).
After she was asleep, I popped the emergency key and took the device off. The scope and scale of the altercation made it simply impossible to keep it on. Right around 4:00 AM when I’m awoken by nearly six inches of hard cock trying to fit into less than three inches of steel tube and my nutsack is stretched tight around my testicles, heavy and swollen with unreleased ejaculate, the only thing that makes it all bearable is knowing that’s how she wants me. But, of course, last night I didn’t give a fuck how she wanted me to be so I took the damned thing off.
I was tempted to jack off. Very tempted. Perhaps I should have. On the one hand, it would have allowed me to think a little more clearly and be focused on the argument’s aftermath, but on the other I know I would have been wracked with guilt and remorse 2.33 seconds after the sticky white goo splashed all over the sink. So I didn’t. I did jack off in the morning, but not so much that I came.
In any event, I was out all day and all day I felt weird. Hand in my pocket, I’d reach over and feel this big squishy mass where my usually hard and smooth “cock” would be. My nuts were wandering all over the place and felt all goofy and absurdly random and the little soft penis (without any PA jewelry at all) was like a Mister Magoo worm nestled among them. That cock – my old cock that I gave to Belle – doesn’t seem like it belongs there any more. Certainly not now at roughly a week and and half since I last came (right about the time the desire and frustration come back from the dead). I realized sometime in the afternoon that I wanted back in the device. Not because she wanted me there, but because I wanted to be there.
Also, I found it hard to maintain my righteous indignation left over from the fight. Not that I didn’t have a valid position, but the more I thought about being back in the Steelheart and the more I thought about my last post and the kind of interesting new thoughts in my head the fact that all the naked people over on the Portfolio made an erection in my pants that – gasp! – people could actually see if I stood up…I just didn’t want us to be fighting any more. There was not a point where we made up or further conversation leading to a mutual understanding or any of that adult, reasonable stuff reasonable adults do when they fight. It was just me, the little rabbit, capitulating and wanting like hell to be back in my cage.
So, back I am. I put it on just before dinner. I doubt she even knew I was out. As I slipped the cold steel tube over Mister Magoo, I knew it was right. It felt right. And I wonder, had I jacked off last night when the thought struck me and had I squirted all over the sink and smelled the pungent odor of manhood again, would I have felt the same? Would I still be angry with her instead of whatever I am now? And would that be better or worse than what I am now?
Chastity and long-term denial aren’t just sex games. They can radically alter how you think and feel in unexpected ways. I can’t answer my questions from the last paragraph, but I do know that almost six inches of swollen penis meat packed into a less than three inch tube is really the only way I want to be. And when it wakes me up at 4:00 AM, maybe it’ll be bearable because I know that’s how it’s supposed to be.