Passing time

We recently passed the second anniversary of the last time Belle let me fuck her. It’s also the last time she let me use the contents for anything pleasurable. Assuming she doesn’t change her mind about me being allowed to do those things again in the future, I think of it as less the anniversary of the last time I was allowed to fuck and orgasm (when I was made pussy-free) and more like the anniversary of when I entered the most logical end-state of being a permanently locked male.

I use the word “passed” rather than “celebrated” or “observed” because that’s how it went down. Belle knew it was coming up. I told her a few weeks ago. But nothing special was said or done on the day to mark it. In fact, I even missed it. I was reminded on BlueSky of it the day before because someone there did the math and assumed that 365×2 was the second anniversary, but this is a leap year so the actual anniversary was (365×2)+1. By the time I realized the day had come and gone it was +2. So the day “passed,” apparently as non-relevant to anything in particular as the contents itself.

A complicating factor in all this is that I’ve been sick. Not Covid. Some other 800 lb respiratory virus from hell that seemingly half the people I know are dealing with right now. Started as a tiny scratchy throat and a turned into a mild cough before being almost allergy-like before falling on my head like a baby grand piano. Chest congestion, head congestion, fever — the whole meal deal. It’s been awful.

Just before the piano fell, I decided to scratch an itch I’ve been having to go back into the Steelheart. I dunno, for nostalgia’s sake or something. I posted an old photo of it on BlueSky and commented that I was more nostalgic for the Steelheart than I am for what it contains, but here we are. So anyway, I was taking a nice bath and used the sudsy water to cover my view of the contents as I swapped out the Orion. I took advantage of the janky razor present at the bathtub (and not my usual Manscaped Crop Shaver) which was a mistake. I didn’t know it, but the janky razor gave me some nasty razor burn. But I was back in the Steelheart. Maybe an hour later, that piano fell on me.

I remember the first time I got sick and didn’t feel the need to come out of whatever device was on me at the time. I felt like that was a real milestone to accepting who I was. It was several years ago now, but prior I would want it off when sick (even mildly) and then all of a sudden I just didn’t. Like it wasn’t even on option. Even when I had Covid, the device was on me the whole time. But this time, it was the razor burn that did me in. I took a sweaty, feverish nap and woke up feeling fire from where the Steelheart folds some skin in on itself so stubble was against the raw but I simply had no ability to cope with it. I was also pretty wiped out and didn’t want out of bed so I simply retrieved the key from where I had left it and took the Steelheart off. And I put nothing back on in its place. I was just too fucking zonked to care.

At least, I thought I was. As bad as I felt, being unlocked made me feel worse. Of course, my hand found its way to the center of my legs and I felt the exposed contents resting between them. It felt so weird. All soft and squishy. But also so much smaller than what I usually find there. The Steelheart is probably like three times the volume of the flaccid contents and the Orion maybe twice as much, so feeling the difference really accentuated the notion reinforced by being separated from it for two years that its a sad little thing whose glory days are long gone. Feeling it out of its home was like feeling an internal organ on the outside of my body. It really felt like that. Because it’s usually inside.

The longer it was out the more unsettled it left me. It just felt wrong. Literally wrong. Not from a “ooh, I’m being so naughty” perspective or based on our dynamic or because I’m a sub. It just felt wrong. Wrong that I was all fleshy there instead of unfeeling plastic or metal, wrong that I could feel it moving against the inside of my sweats, wrong that it didn’t have its usual heft, wrong that I could even touch it freely. All wrong. So I eventually went into the bathroom to put the Orion back on. And that’s when I saw it.

I’ve said here before that I try not to look at it. The last time I saw it was in October of last year (because, you know, I track everything). I don’t avoid seeing it for any other reason except I don’t really want to see it. I don’t want to see it as what it used to be to me. But I did, unfortunately, catch a full-on glimpse of the thing in the bathroom mirror. So there’s that streak broken. Alas.

It struck me the same way it has before. It’s in the shape of a penis. But not a proud penis. Not one anyone would want to sport on themselves. This appeared to be a defeated, redundant sort of thing. Useless, forlorn, abandoned. Needing its cage.

I felt immediately better once the Orion was on. Not from an illness standpoint. Didn’t turn that corner for at least another 48 hours. But emotionally. I felt so much more secure and comforted by being back inside. Centered. Myself.

I’m just not a penis-having person anymore. At least not the kind of person that has a penis that isn’t half of a compound entity made up of it and a device to permanently contain it. This is the most logical end-state condition I mentioned above. It’s where we were always heading, I guess. Penisless.

The way being locked has integrated into my identity is so much more profound that I ever would have predicted or expected. It is literally how I identify. I don’t want to see it, feel it, be able to touch it. Those things are what define men, to me, and that’s not me. I’m this other thing. Male, not a man.

All this to say, two years after the last time, that I would, if told by Belle to do so, absolutely fuck her. In a moment (which is also how long I’d last). If she told me to jack off to completion, I would do that too. Instantly. If told to. But if given the option?

It makes me think of Drew and Jack. Drew gives Jack one chance a year to have an orgasm. It’s his choice. And each year, Jack declines the option. It’s been four years since he came. And I totally get that. I did not get it the first time Drew told me that. I was still having a handful of orgasms a year at that point and I confused craving orgasm with wanting one. I do crave it. And I would do it without complaint if told to. But I don’t want to. And Belle knows that better than anyone.

That’s what two year’s distance from shooting a load has taught me. Maybe, someday, she’ll tell me to do it again. Even she’s not ruling that out. But until she tells me to, I won’t. Not ever. Never again.

Sweet dreams

Living as a permanently denied person hasn’t really changed all that much lately. What I mean is what it’s like to be permanently denied has been pretty static. Which may be kind of obvious considering there’s this really big and important physical act I don’t get to do at all anymore. We’ve settled into this kind of rhythm where Belle lets me get her off and I get nothing but the satisfaction of a job well done in exchange. I have come to accept that and the way that affects me emotionally and physically has kind of settled into a kind of plateau.

I mean, it had.

A handful of posts ago, I wrote this:

I just don’t fantasize about using the contents. At all. Even in my dreams, I’m not using it for anything. I’m always locked. Always denied. Sometimes, I have dreams with sex and I’m 100% always locked in those, but there are other times I have dreams in which sex isn’t a part and my locked status is still a part of the dream. Like, nobody is asking or can tell, but in the dream, I know what’s going on in my pants.

Which was true. But, then, ZOMG, all of a sudden, last night, it wasn’t.

I had three dreams. Each one woke me up and were intense and left me feeling so much pressure inside the Orion.

The first involved me blowing some dude. Relative to what I wrote above, that was kind of normal. I was locked, on my knees, and I have no idea who the guy was. What was weird is that this mystery guy was also locked, but also somehow not which is how I was able to service him to the moment of his climax. You know, dreams are weird like that. But all I remember is a fragments of that dream. I do remember waking up and being very tight. Luckily, I was able to fall back asleep pretty quickly.

The next dream was where things were very different. I was fucking the ever loving hell out of Belle. In various positions, very hard, and for a long time. It was intense and driven and very much just fucking. But I never came. It went on so long that Dream Belle got kind of annoyed and tired and I remember picking up on that and freaking out that she wasn’t going to let me finish so I started to fuck her harder and faster and all that did was annoy her more. I can remember seeing the hard shaft of the contents going in and out of her, I could feel it, and it was amazing and I was loving it but also I had to hurry the fuck up because she was getting tired of it.

Then I woke up. OH MY GOD, I was so horny. So fucking tight, so fucking horny. An 11 out of 10.

The hilarious part of that dream, in retrospect, is how in reality I have essentially zero stamina and will come after only a handful of strokes which is a large part of why I’m not allowed to fuck her anymore. Dream me was a raging stallion. Real me is pathetic.

I did not fall back asleep so easily. I grabbed at the tight package between my legs then flipped over and ground it into the mattress and generally suffered being unable to do anything at all to relieve my frustration.

I did eventually fall asleep, though, because dream three was of me jacking off. It was as if I had somehow got the Orion off and was standing over the sink jacking it. The goal was to just edge myself, I remember thinking in the dream, since coming was against The Rules, but then I realized that no matter how close to coming I took myself, I couldn’t do it. I was once again jacking it harder and faster and never quite getting there. And, again, it felt so good. The sensation of my closed fist sliding up and down and rubbing the leakage over and under the head. OMG, yeah, that was the fucking shit. That was great, but then I really wanted to shoot my load. But I couldn’t. It was impossible.

And I woke up again, still so goddamned tight and packed and horny out of my goddamned mind.

At this point, someone will wonder if I had a wet dream. Jesus, I wish I had. But I’ve never in my life had a wet dream. Not even now, nearly two years after Belle made me pussy and hand free. Not even a trickle.

I guess it may be relevant to point out that I’m not at home. I’m traveling for work and I’m in a hotel room which, historically, has been the setting of intense self abuse. Hotels make me horny, I guess. But I have no idea if that’s what was behind this.

In a way, as frustrating as it was (and is — I’m still pretty horny tbh), it was also kind of nice to feel it. As I said above, things have settled into this kind of plateau for me and I missed the intense feelings of frustration that were so common back when the contents would occasionally be released and allowed to squirt into her pussy. Recently, the only time I get even remotely as worked up is right after she comes. And in between those times, I just am. I know I’m not getting out. It knows it’s not getting out. So the drama level is pretty low.

I say that, but the last couple of times I was allowed to share in her orgasm, I did really feel an urge to fuck Belle. And now last night. Is this a new phase? A blip? Something to do with the phase of the moon? No idea.

I noted on Bluesky yesterday that I’ve been locked up continuously, except for a brief respite here and there, for four years. In response to that post, a follower asked me, “So what has it done to you? Do you still notice changes to be ongoing? What have you seen most recently?”

Before last night, I probably would have just directed them to that post from November. That would have answered the “what has it done to you” part of their question. But this post answers the “what have you seen most recently.”

And, yeah, I guess there are still changes ongoing.