Oh gosh, look at the time. Quarter to two and I’m up and doing this instead of sleeping. This is, I think, the evil denial insomnia rearing its head again. They say one tactic in helping to defeat sleeplessness is to get out of bed, so here I am. Maybe when I’m done writing to you, I’ll get at least a few hours before it’s time to hit the gym in the morning.

So Belle told me on Christmas Day, after a small amount of prodding on my part, that she’s going to have me orgasm on January 6. That will be almost exactly six months from the last time it happened. As I’ve said in the past, I was hoping she’d make me hold out for longer (perhaps indefinitely) but no. Sunday, January 6, 2013. That’s my day.

I spent the next day thinking on that. A bit of apprehension settled over me. Not so much because of the orgasm itself. I know from experience that just one isn’t quite enough to knock me totally out of the zone. I’ll likely experience a day or so of absence from want before I’ll really want a second. That’s what the apprehension was about. If I come twice in short succession, I’ll well and truly be all the way back to zero on the craving scale. I really, really don’t want to feel that way. Since July, I’ve had nothing to worry about except an accidental orgasm. I knew Belle wasn’t going to let it happen, period, so my entire mental approach to the possibility was different. Unless one slipped though under the wire (as it almost did the other day), I didn’t have to dwell on the possibility.

And before July, I would dwell. There was never any knowing when she’d tell me to go so it felt like I was always living under the constant threat of it happening. Yes, that’s me. The guy who doesn’t want to come. The six month schedule was a comfort to me. But now that is coming to an end. I’ll shoot one on the morning of January 6 and then…what? Back to every few weeks or months? I know, I know, I know. It’s not my call. But still, I personally much prefer the long and certain wait. I also think the absence of my orgasm has helped level out some of the hills and valleys we experienced in our D/s overlay before.

Tonight, just before she went to sleep, Belle stroked my balls and fingered the A-ring on the L02. She got me pretty worked up (hence, perhaps, this early morning missive). Just this simple touching was fantastic. When she was done, I even dribbled a little precum on her hand as I snuggled up next to her. She thought it was funny, I thought it was a little embarrassing.

Anyway, before she was done, we talked a bit more about January 6. She told me that after that one, that perhaps my orgasms would become more of an annual affair. In fact, the idea she toyed with (and seemed to like) was placing some “random 2014 dates” in a hat picking one to be the date of my next release. Which, means, of course, after the six month experiment she’ll be denying me for at least a year. Possibly much longer.

Of course, hearing that made the struggling penis struggle all that much harder. I love this idea. And I love my Belle Fille. She makes me very happy. I only hope I make her just as happy in return.

Knife’s edge

Last weekend, Belle let me out of the Looker 02 for 24 hours. This wasn’t because she thought I needed a break or, I presume, particularly cared if I did. It was because she wanted a fuck. I would come out Sunday morning and go back in Monday morning.

The lock slid out of the L02 and the fat end of its plug slithered down the inside of the penis where it had been lodged for two weeks. That led immediately to an erection so insistant that it was almost painfully hard. Sometimes, even if I’m out, if it looks like she wants me to finger her to an orgasm and not want the available erectile tissue, the penis will actually go soft. It’s been trained over the past several years that it and sex aren’t necessarily connected anymore. But this time, it and I knew where it was going and we were both pretty happy about it.

Perhaps too happy. During the warm up period where I was sucking Belle’s tits and rubbing her snatch and generally letting her juices get flowing, she reached down and gave the stiff penis a few strokes (as if it needed the encouragement). I felt immediately how just that contact got the internal ejaculation gears moving, but put it out of my mind. I was confident. I had already been fucked by her at least a half dozen times in a row and didn’t come once. I could do it again.

She mounted me and slid her hot wetness down over the needy hard meat. The feeling made me groan with equal parts relief and unsated desire. I wanted to fucker her senseless, but she was on top and needed to get her orgasm before I could even consider my own needs. Again, I felt the familiar tickling of oncoming coming but clamped down and soldiered on.

Part of the trick is to just present the hard penis to her by clamping my ass cheeks together and thrusting them off the bed slightly so she has maximum ability to use its entire average length. No reciprocal thrusting. If I fuck back, the game is over. She doesn’t seem to want that, anyway. Just be the tool, Thumper. Another part of the trick is for me to put my mind as far away from the actual sex taking place on my body as possible. In the summer, I use baseball for that. This past fall, I used the elections (and thought of bad outcomes specifically). Now, though, I got nothing. It has to be a series of thoughts. A logical progression of considerations that keeps my attention focused elsewhere while she impales her hot went snatch over and over again, letting its juices run down over my balls and down my ass crack, and her breathing becomes sharper and shorter and the fucking gets harder and quicker and…STATISTICS. I need some fucking statistics. Electoral College math or fucking on-base percentages or league standings or something. Desperate, I thought of a video game I had been playing through lately. Lego Lord of the Rings, to be precise. A very pale substitute.

Finally, she came in a shuddering orgasmic crash. Holding herself still over me, I withdrew the penis and let its tip rest just inside her. I could feel it pumping semen. Surging its weeks-long buildup of payload past her quivering lips, filling her up. But it wasn’t really an orgasm. I didn’t feel like I was coming. I could feel the fluid leaving me but none of the mental fireworks associated with the event. Somehow, my orgasm had been ruined.

I know that now. Then, I wasn’t sure what was happening. I could smell my ejaculate and I didn’t like it. I could feel the slippery sliminess all over her pussy and GAH! It wasn’t supposed to be there. I was too distracted. I could still feel the horniness inside me, but the negative connotation I now associate with my own ejaculate was too much to take. The penis went limp and stayed there. I was supremely frustrated while Belle was bemused. She kept telling me how my window of opportunity was closing while I tried to stroke and pet the reluctant member back to life. Eventually, she told me that was it. I couldn’t get hard so I didn’t get to fuck her.

“At least it’ll give you something to blog about,” she said as she left me cold and sticky on the bed.

My period of freedom was extended by another day. Even though I had two showers and several hours alone with the penis, I couldn’t bring myself to take advantage of the situation. I wanted…something. But jacking off alone didn’t feel like it. Monday night, I got what I wanted.

This time, she wanted Pink to get her off. My fingers weren’t enough and either she wanted Pink more or didn’t want a replay of the previous morning’s misadventure. Either way, when she was done, I was allowed to fuck her. And, again, almost immediately I felt the orgasmic mechanism engage. From the very second I slipped into her. I can’t even say how many times I had to stop fucking her to keep the orgasm back. I never really felt like I got into a rhythm. Not like the last several times where the orgasm felt miles off. This time, it was always hovering just behind me. Eventually, I found myself skating down the knife’s edge, right on the cusp of it. Every fiber of my physical body cried out, desperately trying to draw it forward, while every bit of my higher brain pulled just as hard in the opposite direction. No, you CAN’T come. You CAN NOT.*

Emotions run high at these times. I felt almost as though I wanted to dry. Instead of the more typical animalistic feelings toward her where I’d want to fuck her into a pulp and then fuck whatever was left, I held her tenderly as if she was fragile and might break from my thrusting. I caressed her and breathed her scent deeply and she was all that was perfect and beautiful and my love for her nearly overwhelmed me. I thanked her. For everything. For letting me fuck her, for giving me the second chance at it, for not letting me come, for just being. Powerful shit, that.

Finally, she told me it was over. And I reluctantly pulled out. And I fell asleep clutching her tightly.

* Feel free to imagine a small Lego Gandalf confronting the Balrog on the Bridge of Khazad-dûm, if you like.

A wee spot of Looker 02 nerdery

I have more salacious tales to tell, but before I go there, I’ll dabble in a bit of Looker 02 holiday nerdery.

In my original write-up on the device, I said:

The only times I’ve experienced actual discomfort is during urination. At first, the issue reminded me of how pipes behave when they have air in them. Then I realized it probably is exactly that. What I think happens is a small pocket of air develops in the urethra just outside the opening to the plug. Then, when I pee, the air gets trapped and causes a kind of cavitation to develop. The urine flows out in a stuttering fashion and the “air in the pipes” rattles and shakes and feels like a vibration in the plug. It kinda hurts, to be honest.

mind the gapBeing out for 48 hours recently offered me the chance to take a closer look at the part of the device that normally doesn’t see daylight and I think I found the issue with the cavitation problem. There’s a area just inside the plug where the bulbous end of it attaches to the hollow shaft where a gap exists. It seems highly likely to me now that this is spot where a little bubble of air forms and/or gets trapped causing the end of the plug to sometimes vibrate during urination. I’m not sure if this can be eliminated during production, but if I were doing it again, I’d ask. The good news is as the inside of the penis has grown accustomed to the plus so that I usually don’t even feel it in there, the cavitation issue has also decreased. It still happens just as often, but it’s not uncomfortable anymore. The only time it’s really bothersome is when I’m at a urinal and the sound of me peeing get’s a little odd as the steam stutters at the end. It’s pretty noticeably weird. Luckily, the men’s room I frequent is pretty sleepy.

lil pinchI’ve had another idea that would increase comfort slightly, at least for the circumcised guys in the audience. I find that sometimes, usually when I’m in bed and laying on my stomach, the ridge of the penis head (the corona of the glans) will pinch up against the edge of the cap on the L02’s cage. If the penis is nicely tucked up inside the cap, there’s no issue, so this might be a fitting problem (as in, the cage should be shorter), but I think the device is reasonably well fitted. If Belle were to buy another for some reason (or send the one we have now back for something), I’d probably ask for the cap to be extended at least on either side of the middle bar that runs down the top of the cage. Just third of an inch or so would do it. That would protect the corona from undue pinching but still keep the open cage-like aesthetic going.

Other than those things, and as I said in my last missive on the subject, the L02 remains my favorite of all the devices.


Alas, it has been quite a while since Belle and I had any sex. At least two weeks now. There’s no specific reason it’s been that long. She had her period, I got sick, she went away for the weekend. Regular access to her pleasure is, of course, the alchemic ephemera my body processes into its ability to sustain life without access to itself for indefinite periods of time. It’s a real drag (in every sense of that word) to exist without it. I’m not blaming, just saying. I need to feel her enjoying my touch. Need to hear her gasp and moan. Need to feel her quivering orgasm.

Need it all the way down.


The Looker 02 revisted

On Monday, I was sick. Sick enough to stay home from work in that “damn, I wish I wasn’t sick” way more than that “cool, I get to stay home today” way. Usually, when I’m that sick (which, to be fair, hasn’t been that often) I hate the feeling of being locked up. It goes from being a pleasant daily reminder to an unfair burden. And, as usual, I was locked up on Monday in the Looker 02.

Yeah, so I woke up feeling like shit and went to sleep feeling like shit but still managed to keep the device on all day. I was even still digging it that morning. But, at the very end of the day just before I went to sleep, I asked Belle to let me out of it. And she gave me some attitude about, which, in retrospect, is kinda funny but at the time pissed me off. But she let me out. It reminded me of a chastity blogger who was around when I started this site but who has since gone to the great blogger boneyard in the sky who was in a similar situation. He was sick and wanted out and his wife actually wouldn’t let him. At least Belle did give me the key.

Tuesday, I woke up feeling about 360% better. You know when you go to bed sick and, the moment you wake up the next day, you’re like “oh yeah, I’m better now.” So I reached over to the nightstand, pulled the device out of the drawer, and resecured the penis. I didn’t have to do that. I could have milked the situation (in more ways than one) and still been out now, but didn’t. I was only out because I was sick. It would be cheating if I stayed out when I wasn’t.

Not counting Monday night, then, I’ve been in the L02 for more than a week. With that time, plus the other time I’ve done in it, I think I can now state without reservation that it’s by far my favorite device to wear. There are at least four aspects any device should be evaluated against: comfort, quality, hygiene, security, and stealth. I mean five. There are at least five aspects. Here’s how the Looker 02 stacks up.

Even with the urethral insert, the L02 is easily the most comfortable device I wear. With the Steelheart, there’s occasional pinching inside the tube from the PA ring and internal fixing. There’s none of that with the L02. Also, the A-ring on the SH is just a titch too small (I’ll be sending it back for a larger one). The Jailbird’s open cage design means that occasionally bits of the end of the penis can get trapped between the cage bar and my underwear or pants seam and immediately and emphatically grab my attention. The L02’s cap at the end of the tube obviates that issue.

After all the time I’ve been in it, I can report that I’ve almost forgotten there’s a titanium shaft stuck up the penis at all. I still dig the idea so when I do feel it I like it, but I rarely feel it during everyday activities. Sometimes, when laying on my stomach, I’ll need to shift positions, but that’s it. I’m still getting up to speed following my foot injury so I’ve just started to run in the L02. The first time was unpleasant as the insert rubbed back and forth inside the penis repeatedly, but I’ve found a small dab of silicone lube applied to the insert with my pinky just before the run fixes that issue.

Steelworxx makes great stuff, period. I mentioned in my first review that the bend in the anatomical A-ring was off, but that’s the only issue I have with it from a build perspective. There are no burrs or seams to irritate and the design seems well-considered. The same goes with the Steelheart, of course. If Steelworxx gets 10/10 for quality, then Mature Metal gets at least an eight or nine, so in this regard, they’re all about even.

This is the trickiest category to score. On the one hand, the Jail Bird is the device that stays the cleanest over the course of the day, but it’s the fussiest to urinate in standing up. The Steelheart is the easiest to pee in, but inevitably traps a bit of urine inside the tube which, if not dealt with by day’s end, can be a problem. The L02 is nearly as easy to pee in as the SH and way easier than the JB. With regard to residual urine, it’s the worst of the lot. I find it’s impossible to get it all out of the insert after going. I can dab and shake and even roll the toilet paper up into a pointy spear and stick it right up there but there always seems to be more. So, each device has a point to win here. The L02 is probably the weakest, but not catastrophically so.

With regard to the concern often associate with this device (or others like it) you find online concerning urinary tract infections, I think the level of concern should be zero. If one urinates the typical number of times each day, that will keep things washed out well enough. As I said in the first review, urine can easily escape around the insert, not just through it, but it also does, obviously, go through it, too. I just can’t imagine how an infection would take hold. (Insert standard disclaimer here about my lack of medical knowledge and how long it’s been since I stayed in a Holiday Inn Express.)

The Steelheart wins here hands-down because it actually is secure. When the PA ring and fixing is in place, there’s no way that meat’s getting out short of the key, a power tool, or a bloody mess. The L02 is slightly more secure than the JB since the insert makes it just that much trickier to pull out, but it’s still totally possible. In a perfect world, there’d be a way to integrate a security screw-type element to the L02 that would go into the PA piercing not unlike how a Prince’s wand works. If the L02 had something like that, it’s be almost as secure as the SH.

Of course, this brings up a downside to wearing the L02 for long periods: There’s nothing in my PA piercing. Eventually, that will cause the piercing to shrink and possibly even close, but I’ve found I can just get my heavier 4 ga jewelry back in there after two weeks, so assuming she’ll let me out at least that often for eight hours or so, I’ll be in good shape.

The L02 is dead quiet as there’s no moving parts to rattle or clank. It’s just like the JB in that regard (though the JB, when on, fits together more solidly due to the security screw and therefore might be just an infinitesimally bit quieter). The SH has multiple parts that sometimes rattle (especially during work outs). Also, the tube on the L02 is smaller than that on the SH and is therefore harder to see. Also also, since it has openings on the tube (again, like the JB) the profile of what is visible under pants isn’t as solid looking as the SH’s. After being in it for a bit, I think the L02’s tube could have been about .25 to .33 inches shorter which would have made it that much better from a visibility perspective.

I still appreciate having some variety in the devices Belle uses on me. All things considered, it’s the best device I’ve worn. It won’t stop me from suggesting to Belle we try new devices from time to time (I have, in particular, been thinking about this one lately), but perhaps the most telling factor in all this is, when she tells me to put anything but the Looker02 on, I’m disappointed.

Metaphorical brussel sprouts

I wouldn’t call the conversations Belle and I are having regarding when I’ll next have an orgasm “negotiations.” If they are, they’re not unlike how a child negotiates their bedtime or how many brussel sprouts they need to eat before they’re allowed to leave the table. Belle is, after all, totally in control of when I come. That hasn’t stopped me from sharing what I think. Like that kid who wants to stay up fifteen more minutes or only eat two, not three, of the vile little green globs, I am at best lobbying.

I point out to her that we have been in a long and sustained Good Place® lately with regard to our D/s overlay. Perhaps the longest we’ve been doing so well since we started. Yeah, we have had a lot of practice by now, but the one thing that’s been different is my orgasm has been totally off the table. I know it’s not going to happen and she knows it’s not going to happen. So, besides avoiding the hormonal roller coaster that comes even with infrequent (say, every month or so) orgasm, I’ve been free to really wallow in my occasional desire to come and she’s free to totally shut me down since there’s a hard date out there (not before January). The further away I get from my last orgasm (which was around July 3rd), the more I’m able (in these moments of calm reflection) to realize I do not need them physically or want them in any other way than in a primal and situational sense. And, as we get closer to that magical “sometime after January starts” period, I’m starting to feel that happily denied male anxiety. Some guys, I know, never get there. They’re denied three days and they’re crawling out of themselves to come and never get to the point that they’d rather not. But that’s not me.

Belle’s not committing to anything other than reminding me who’s decision it is. Based on the few cryptic things she’s said (and acknowledging that she’s still ruminating over it), it kinda sounds like she’s leaning towards nothing so dramatic as some kind of “THOU SHALL NEVER COME AGAIN” decree and will instead go with a more reasonable approach where I don’t come indefinitely. At least for as long as it makes sense. That could be an additional week or…however long it is. Then, of course, I will have some skin in the game. I’ll do whatever I can to keep it from happening, though I know that when she lets me fuck her there’s a 50-50 chance I’m going to really and truly want that orgasm. For me, it’s a bit more unsettling. I’d rather know. But she, it seems, isn’t prepared to go that far with me. Yet.

So, we’ll see. I get at least another month. I’ll keep squirming in my seat and pushing my metaphorical vegetables around as she decides my fate. However it ends up, it’s her call and I know it.