Nine

On this date nine years ago I began writing Denying Thumper. It’s equal parts hard to fathom it’s been that long, but also a wonder so many things have happened and evolved in what seems like so little time.

Looking back, I’m not entirely sure why I started the blog when I did. It was, even then, a blog about orgasm denial and chastity, but I had barely been denied any orgasms (the day after I started the blog was three whole days without an orgasm!) and we didn’t have a chastity device, though I ordered a CB6K after a few days. Clearly, right after being introduced to the concepts, the need and desire to live that way blossomed fully and with an alarming suddenness.

For me, the real beginning was on the 21st of October when I wore a chastity device for the first time. It’s pretty funny reading that now, to be honest. I’ve changed so much but so many things are the same.

I rarely go back and read the early days of the blog because a lot of that time was spent by both of us figuring things out and my attitude wasn’t always very good. I’m often embarrassed by myself. I was petulant and expectant and filled with a sort of penis-centric privilege that betrayed what I purported to want out of submitting to Belle. It took years to really find the path I think chastity and denial should follow (more or less, there is no One True Way). It took a long time for me to get my head on straight.

Belle grew into her role, gaining confidence. I settled down into mine, shedding selfishness.

And here we. Still ticking. Locked up more than ever. Just three orgasms on the year. In some ways, things have only become more of what they were even back then. But it’s also no longer new. It’s no longer novel. It’s what things are. It’s how we live. And it’s pretty darned good.

Hashtag Locktober

I have no idea where Locktober came from. First I heard of it was from Andy and then there was a hashtag and now it’s a thing. I made something of a flippant response on the Twitter…

Except the deal with Locktober is to be locked for all of October. And I’m not always locked, just north of 98% of the time (last month excluded). I told Belle about Locktober and she was intrigued. She’s decided we will play along…for now.

See, Belle hasn’t been fucked since September 10. I know this because I keep track of such things. We were apart for the better part of several weeks and the last time she let me inside her was way back one month ago today. And while I was unlocked on my trip for more than is customary, I have been continuously locked since 11:00 AM on the 19th of September, three weeks ago today. I’m just not entirely certain Belle can wait that long to feel a hard penis inside her again.

But who knows. Last night I came into the bedroom while she was watching the football and apparently I looked cute to her because she said so and I asked why because I thought I looked kind of schlubby and she said maybe it was Locktober. Like, I was more attractive because I was going to be locked for the whole month. And the number of times she’s had me get her off this month puts it on track for a record in that department.

So yeah, Belle likes to get fucked, but this is also kind of a classic non-intuitive side effect of enforced chastity. The one you read about in all the hawt chastity porn. Like any mythology, it does have a basis in reality. For whatever reason, the idea of not being fucked by me because she’s keeping the penis locked up for the whole month is making her more likely to want to have sex. You just can’t make that make sense to someone who’s never heard of enforced male chastity. It’s a real paradox.

It’s been quite difficult for me during those times she lets me get her off because the penis has learned that while it’s locked up all the time, it does get to come out for 20-30 minutes a week and get wet inside her. While I feel her orgasm pulse through her body, the penis is straining hard against its confinement and pushing up the memory of what sliding inside her wet pussy feels like just to torment me. It wants to fuck her badly. It becomes an acute craving. And sure, that’s painful for about 12 seconds because the yearning need is strong, but then it fades and is replaced with the equally nonsensical and paradoxical feelings of submissive gratitude for being cared for in this way. Attended to, after a fashion.

So while dealing with the meat’s disappointment at not getting wet is fleetingly difficult, I think this Locktober thing is a good idea. It reminds us that whatever attention the contents of the devices locked onto us get is the sole discretion of the one holding our key. It demonstrates how penises are not required for satisfying sex. It reinforces the natural order of our relationships. And, for those keyholders needing it, it provides a shelter for any lingering guilt they feel over leaving their partners secure.

All that said, I’m still not sure Belle can go three more weeks without feeling me inside her. We’ll see. Whatever happens, it is — as always — up to her.

September metrics

IMG_6950September was an odd month. The issue I ran into on my camping trip along with time I was left out near the beginning of the month for some sore spots and the issues the Metal Holy Trainer gave me combined for a relatively massive amount of unlocked time. The penis was unguarded for 17% of the month. Seventy percent of the time I’ve been unlocked in 2017 so far happened in September. While none of it was by choice, I still find it personally disappointing that it ended up that way.

The device breakdown saw the Steelheart once again getting the majority of action. The Halfshell, Looker 02, and Metal Holy Trainer divvied up about a third of the locked time.

Belle and I were also apart for three out of the five weekends in September so those numbers are weird, too. She came ten times which makes September the second-highest month for her orgasms, but half of them were at her own hand. One was unique in my tracking in that it involved both the vibrator and my fingers (and, as I recall, was an especially good one). The rest were the result of my prestidigitation.

I was allowed to fuck her just three times, the second-lowest number in a month this year. I only ejaculated twice. I had zero orgasms.

IMG_6966September is also the end of the quarter. The device breakdown shows the penis living in seven different confinements. The Steelheart took up almost half the time in those three moths while the Halfshell got nearly a third. Naturally, my unlocked time was quite high at 6% thanks to September.

Belle came 24 times in the quarter, one time fewer than the previous quarter but four more than in the first quarter. Only one of those was from riding the penis. Eight were self-administered, two were from me using the vibrator on her, and the rest were my fingers. No oral. [sadface]

I was allowed to fuck her 12 times, one of which resulted in an authorized orgasm (though it sucked). Ten included ejaculation. One was “dry.” Naturally, I didn’t jack off once. In fact, I don’t think I’ve done that in more than a year now. Not since…the incident.

Orgasm not required, says the Guardian

An article in the Guardian called “Orgasm addicts, sex doesn’t have to be red hot” is a mainstream and non-threatening incursion into the world of orgasm control and denial. The point of the piece, written by author Isabel Losada, is that orgasm doesn’t need to be the ultimate focus of sex and, DUH, totally agree with that. But the headline is perplexing.

“Orgasm addicts,” I think, perpetuates the myth that sex addiction is a thing. We’re genetically programmed to be orgasm “addicts” and the issue isn’t having a lot of sex or orgasms, it’s doing anything compulsively and to excess. I’ve only come three times this year and think that sounds like kind of a lot but still consider myself “addicted” to orgasms. Why use such a loaded, negatively connoted word? Drug addicts, alcohol addicts, nicotine addicts, orgasm addicts. I dunno. Bugs me.

Also, the “sex doesn’t need to be red hot” part. As if the only way it’s red hot is when it’s accompanied by orgasm? And the expectation should be orgasmless sex isn’t red hot? Some of the absolute hottest sex I’ve ever had didn’t involve orgasm. At this point, most of the hottest sex didn’t involve orgasm. At least, not mine.

But the authors of articles don’t always write the headlines. Maybe she didn’t. Maybe it was a clueless editor. Who knows.

Anyway, the notion that a sex can be about exploration of all the sensations that get pushed out of the way for the big, glitzy orgasm at the end is one I fully endorse. That’s, like, my life. Encouraging women and their partners to focus on exploring a slower, more gentle sensation as a means of becoming an expert in her sex is another concept I can advocate with ease.

The author suggests that taking orgasm off the menu is a way to limit pressure on the act of having sex and, by making it less stressful for women, will lead to more sex. Sure, but by slowing down and learning her body I don’t know why orgasm wouldn’t become more likely. The goal of sex is to feel good and connect to our partners. If we feel good by coming, then that’s the goal. If we feel good (after a fashion) by not coming, then that’s OK too. But everyone who enjoys them deserves to come. It’s incumbent upon the partner to learn how to make her happy. And it’s incumbent upon her to let that happen. To not get hung up on societal programming of expectations of her role. I think, ultimately, that’s what the article is about.

But the article isn’t entirely focused on women.

Another of the exercises my partner and I really enjoyed was when he chose (not prompted by me) to take a 30-day challenge where the man agrees not to ejaculate during that time. This is a fascinating one. For me, it was wonderful. He was forced to slow right down and be totally focused on sensation. From my perspective, it stopped feeling as if he was driving and began to feel as if he was surfing. This was another powerful way for us to increase our connection. The man becomes more aware of the woman’s arousal level as he isn’t being carried away by his own – which is often stronger and easier for him to access.

A couple of times in the piece, the author says BDSM practices are “weird” and not necessary to have great sex with a monogamous partner over a long period, so emphasizing “he chose (not prompted by me)” to abstain from ejaculation isn’t surprising. Like, why even mention it at all? Just say it happened. Is the idea that it was her idea so scary?

Other than that, yeah, that’s how it works! I like the surfing vs. driving analogy, but surfing is a little too passive perhaps. Still too focused on what he’s doing for himself. It’s more like playing an instrument, to me. Trying to make music of her pleasure. But I’m a sub and everything I do is or want is colored by that. I wonder if his experiment in orgasm control was only for the month? Did he ever try it again? If it was so good for her, did she dare to suggest they do it again? Maybe a month on, a month off, etc? She doesn’t say. Wouldn’t want people to think she’s into “weird” stuff, I guess.

It’s not a perfect piece, to be sure, but the bones are there and it’s refreshing see the concept of disconnecting sexual pleasure from orgasm getting a mainstream treatment. Wish Belle was home so we could learn more about her clitoris as she sits on my face…

Avoiding donkey island

Funny thing happened whilst camping. In the past, being locked up in that environment and inside that group left me feeling weird. Vulnerable. But this time, somehow, it was the opposite. As though being in chastity was my superpower. It made me feel more confident. That was unexpected.

And so I was locked up. Until I wasn’t. The “very good reason” I didn’t have before I left turned out to be a miles-long hike on a hot day that left me drenched in sweat. I was fine until later, back at camp, when the sweat started to dry and get sticky. Then I realized the metal ring of the Steelheart, the stickiness of the drying perspiration, perhaps the stress of miles of walking causing the skin and steel to rub, and the emerging pubic stubble conspired to hurt like a motherfucker. I struggled with the decision to take it off but, had I left it on, I could have ended up hurting myself and causing a real issue in a place where being clean is hard enough. So I popped the key and liberated the meat.

And then I felt like the weirdo. My (literal) shield was gone. The penis felt incredibly small and pedestrian and no longer special in any way. Sure, peeing was easier and all that and, after a day or so, the painful irritation sorted itself out, but something was missing. A few days before I left, I put the Steelheart back on. I knew there was no way I could be out on the long, boring drive home.

Speaking of which. There was exactly one time I was alone the whole week. Everyone had sort of gone their separate ways for a while and, as I did, too, the thought that I could jack off pushed its way forward like a bridesmaid knocking everyone over jumping for the bouquet. I wasn’t even thinking about anything like that but then it was BOOM “Hey, go jack off.” I didn’t, for the record, but the the way the notion muscled its way into my thoughts was the kind of thing men who get to come as often as they want have no idea can even happen. Back then, the idea would come creeping up like a sly cartoon fox tempting me to an island where I’d do fun stuff but eventually turn into a donkey.

The only issue being locked up presented was at night. Most of us were sleeping in one big tent and I was sleeping in a T-shirt and underwear. It was just a bunch of guys, so we weren’t trying to be exceptionally modest, so had I been I would have looked very out of place. So I decided to just go for it and counted on the kinda-sorta natural look of the Steelheart tube to pass in the off chance one of the other guys dick-checked me. The underwear I wear in the forest (yes, I have special camping underwear) are trunk briefs and mostly black or dark gray. That would help, too. As far as I know, nobody looked. Yeah, they probably did, but if so, they obviously said nothing to me.

So anyway, no, I didn’t turn into a donkey. But I also wasn’t perfect. That was annoying. I’ll know next time to let the pubes grow out a bit. Had I not shaved, I doubt there would have been an issue. Live and learn.

Me, absent a very good reason

“I don’t understand,” she said.

I said I was uncertain about being locked up in the woods for a week.

“I mean, you’ve done it before.”

That’s true. I have been more than once in the woods for a week and stayed locked up the whole time.

“Explain this to me.”

I couldn’t. Truth is, sometimes in that environment I just don’t feel like being locked up. Especially when I’m with nothing but other men. Big, straight, muggle men. The feeling evaporates. Also, the hygiene issue can be complicating. One week, I wore the Looker 02 the entire time without a shower or anything. Yuck.

“I’d be willing to let you go unlocked, but I need to know why you need to be that way.”

I couldn’t say why I needed to be unlocked. As I was struggling to make the words, the part of my brain that was thinking being locked up even when I didn’t want to be came up with a plan. The Steelheart without the PA fixing. I could pull the penis out every once in a while and wipe it down and also clean the inside of the tube. There was enough privacy for that, surely. No, it wasn’t total security, but it was locked up. And locked up was how she wanted me absent a very good reason to be otherwise. And I didn’t have a very good reason.

“Never mind,” I said.

August metrics

Wow, I almost forgot to post the August numbers.

IMG_6444August looked liked July…and June…and, really, all the months for the past many months. The penis was outside a device 0.6% of the month. The remaining 99.4% it was locked into the Halfshell (42%), Steelheart (37%) and, for the first time (I believe) since I’ve been tracking, the Mature Metal Jail Bird (20%). It wasn’t at the behest of Belle as we’re still playing along like I get to choose what I wear as long as I’m wearing something. It’s not my favorite device, but the change of pace of seeing the penis behind bars rather than disappeared down a steel tube was fun for a while.

Belle came eight times in the month, once by herself since we were still apart for the first week or so, and once with me driving the vibrator. The other times were from my prestidigitation. I “came” once on the 26th. I put that in quotes since it didn’t actually feel too much like an orgasm. While I was fucking her, Belle told me I could so I didn’t slow down or stop when I felt the urge building and I kept fucking right though the ejaculation but I never felt the kick of hormones and had a very, very mild post-orgasmic experience. The penis didn’t even feel especially sensitive after. It was entirely anti-climatic. Like it built to a 6.8 on the Richter Scale and then died. Since it happens so infrequently (that was number three on the year), the sample size is small and I can’t say if this is some kind of new normal or just a fluke. I have not been given the opportunity to come again since then.

There’s a part of me that thinks it would be kinda hot if my ability to orgasm properly is broken. But I don’t know. I’ve been allowed to fuck her three times since and felt the same build-up but avoided getting closer enough. The true test will be if she lets me go again.

Speaking of fucking her, I was inside her five times in August and ejaculated each time.

September is going to look different than any of the months since last September. I had to stay out of the Steelheart overnight around Labor Day because the penis was irritated by it. Odd as the Steelheart hasn’t done that in some time, but a hot spot popped up on the head and it was painful. I was out for another night after wear-testing a steel knock-off of the Holy Trainer 2. Spoilers: It’s not good. Ripped the penis up good after just a day so I had to come out for another night but was able to wear the Halfshell the next day as it keeps the penis in a fixed position and keeps it from rubbing against the shell. So two of the three nights I’ve slept without being locked up in the past year happened within a week of each other.

Also, I’m going camping this week for seven days (and yes, for those keeping score, this is the same kind of trip that led to last year’s incidents of unauthorized orgasm and the rule that I must always be locked unless Belle explicitly says I can be otherwise). Not sure how that’s going to work out with a device. I start with a healthy ambition but it’s primitive camping among muggles so facilities to keep things clean are nonexistent. Also, I’ll be among men only and I find my ability to maintain the right headspace to be locked pretty much evaporates when I’m not around estrogen. Nothing kills a buzz like a bunch of straight guys. Still puzzling over that one.