OK, so maybe I will squeeze in one more post before I’m out of here…
Regarding the Jail Bird, it’s not going to happen. Aware that I’ve never been able to stay in that device for more than a few days without developing significant discomfort and suspecting that it’s likely a fit and spacing issue, I decided to try something I read about on Chastity Forums. Not sure who it was that did it, but they were able to create a little extra space between the bottom of the cage and the A-ring by slightly bending the post upward. I tried this yesterday afternoon and the post promptly snapped off. I don’t know much about metal work (whereby “not much” I mean “pretty much nothing”), but I thought welding would create a stronger bond between two pieces of metal. So now, if I ever want to wear the JB again, I’ll need a new A-ring. Which I probably needed anyway.
And, as I’ve been harping on, this now means I’ll be unsecured for the duration of the trip. Belle does not want me in the Steelheart and I guess I understand. Regardless of understanding, it’s her decision. It doesn’t help that I’m in that golden sweet spot where the device and I feel fused and there’s little to no discomfort and I’m even sleeping through the early morning tightness and find it creates a comforting sense of security rather than being something I need to endure. I don’t know if when this happens that anything physical has changed or if it’s all in my head, but I’ve even found myself, when waking with a fantastically full and tight tube, flexing the penis in order to feel more tightness and constriction. As with so many other things, my level of tolerance increases over time.
It’s not like I’ll have ample opportunity to take advantage of my temporary freedom, but I really don’t trust my hand and the penis together unattended even for short periods. There will be little moments (and the chance for several hot, soapy showers in hotels on the way there and back) and, of course, every morning it’ll be all perky and proud and asking for attention. Thing is, when you’re a man in my condition, you end up thinking about what’s in your crotch an awful lot regardless of its state. However, it’s an entirely different flavor of obsession when a healthy ribbon of opportunity is swirled though it. I will try to be strong. Upon return, I will no doubt be anxious for Belle to put me back in.
Belle and I chatted a bit last night about some of the recent blog posts. She’s mad at me (or trying to be) for taking the device off without her knowledge (though I strongly disagree I did it out of spite, as she suggests). While I took it off, I also put it back on, so I feel like I should get some points for that. Also, we talked about my reaction to being belittled, humiliated, made fun of, etc. She says she can’t really see herself humiliating me, but is OK with belittling me. I don’t see much of a difference, but if she can find it in her heart to make fun of me every once in a while, I’ll be happy.
In a related development, I’ve decided to update Thumper’s Rules of Usage and Style regarding how I refer to the sex organ attached my body. It’s clearly established that I never refer to it possessively (it’s not “mine”). I either refer to it as a separate object (i.e., the sex organ) or as hers (though I tend to favor the former style because the latter can be confusing to new readers – “Wait a sec. She had a cock?”). I have typically called it a cock but have just decided to no longer use that word. To me, “cock” implies something unrelated to me or it. A “cock” is an aggressive, action-oriented thing meant for fucking. An in-your-face kind of tool that’s been designed for erect penetration. My little piece of meat doesn’t do any of that. It’s very seldom any longer than the 2.75″ allowed by the Steelheart. From the outside, it never seems to change at all, regardless of how I’m feeling or how much pleasure Belle’s letting me give her. It certainly has practically nothing to do with Belle’s pleasure like a cock would. The only time it gets to be inside her is when she’s giving me one of my infrequent orgasms. Last two times it happened, I’m not even sure she had her top off. It may give her emotional pleasure to let me orgasm, but the act itself doesn’t provide much sexual pleasure for her. The thing’s roll has been demoted to little more than an instrument of prostate maintenance. There’s no aggression down there and certainly little action. It’s not a cock at all. It’s just a penis. And that’s what I’ll be calling it from now on.
I can almost hear eyeballs rolling in some sockets from here, but it’s my blog and I can call it whatever I want. So there. At the end of the day, for me, words have significant value and power. Thinking of it as just a penis strongly resonates with my submissive core. Thinking of it as a little penis just about makes me swoon.
So, finally, this is the last post I’ll make until I’m out of the woods sometime after the 17th or so. As I said yesterday, there’s an HNThumper loaded up for next Thursday, but that’ll be all. I might be able to reply to comments depending on access to cell reception. We’ll see.
6 thoughts on “Just under the wire”
It *is* your blog, and, frankly, that’s actually super hot. Have a good trip!
Ah, now it’s a penis, no longer a cock. Hasn’t been for awhile, has it?
Question is – will it still be “meat”?
For unknown reasons I’ve developed a liking to that term. *shrugs*
Hasn’t been for awhile, has it?
Er, no. No it hasn’t.
…will it still be “meat”?
Oh, yeah. If you want to get all psycho-etymological on me, my usage of the word “meat” was probably the beginning of my devaluing of the penis. I think men tend to strongly connect their dicks with their sense of self-worth. It’s not *just* a part of our bodies like a foot or an ear, it’s an extension of our bodies and our ego. It’s kind of a scary thing to be a guy and let those things disconnect, to still have a strong sense of self while not having a lot of respect for one’s dick, but that’s where I am. In fact, it’s almost working in reverse. My opinion of the penis is going down as I gain strength from how that feels.
There are meaty cocks. My very favorite kind are thick and meaty, but I’m not using the word that way. It’s just a little piece of meat, without a lot purpose and not good for very much.
All good but please, please, please – not “sissy clitty” 😉
Re the jailbird, you might find hub’s next post interesting when you get back. I’ve now put him in a Bon4 silicone device. It’s not pretty like metal ones but it is all encompassing in terms of removing any sensation from the penis. The reason for this is that he used to have to take the JB off at night or else disturb the both of us with painful nocturnal erections. In order for him to go in 24 7 – I got the Bon4 so that he could change over at night. He’s absolutely thrilled with it and it’s particularly good for travelling with plastic locks. The silicone doesnt punish an erection with unyielding plastic or steel but it does enclose it from external sensation. Following on from your last comment, he is now experiencing a sense of calm and happiness being separated from even the small sensations that the JB gave him. Men absolutely undergo a change of “boss” during chastity when instead of being dick led, they are freed to be themselves. I am considering a steel tube going forward.
Hope you have a fun trip!
All good but please, please, please – not “sissy clitty”
Oh, *God*, no!
Re the jailbird, you might find hub’s next post interesting when you get back. …
I look forward to reading it! I’m really glad to hear things are back on track with you guys!