Category: Life with Belle

Stuff that really happened to Thumper and/or Belle Fille

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Woodsy

I’m writing this on the Friday before Memorial Day in the United States. It’s considered the kickoff to summer and I’m spending it deep in a mountainous forest with some friends camping in tents and hiking around and being all woodsy. I’ve been here many times with these same guys and, in the past, I would have either asked Belle to let me out of the Steelheart before I went or asked to take the key “just in case” and then would have let myself out shortly after pitching my tent. 

There was something about being here with these men (all men, rarely are any women around) that made me oddly hyper-aware of being locked. Hyper-aware and ultimately somewhat uncomfortable. There are some practical reasons not to be locked in a device here. One is hygiene, but I have that all figured out. My own tent plus a container of mildly soapy water, a container of clean water, a squeeze bottle, and something to catch the rinse with is, along with about five minutes a day, all that’s needed to keep me relatively fresh. Also, there was one time I was here right after having shaved under the base ring where the sweat from hiking combined with the early stubble and the rubbing of the ring made for some distinct discomfort. Of course, the simple solution to that is don’t shave under the ring before going into the woods. Easy peasy. 

So, practical issues removed, the only other reason I’d not be locked here is because of how it makes me feel to be so secretly different and complicated than the men I’m with. These guys are total muggles. Except for one other bisexual (who probably isn’t a muggle, but we’ve not had specific conversations), all are apparently straight and a few painfully stereotypically masculine. And then there’s me. The boy without a penis. The guy with the metal in his pants. As everyone goes to the outskirts of camp to pee, I’m the guy with the gravity-fed dribble rather than the he-man steady stream that reaches the ground in a defined arc that lands with authority. They bathe in the cool, clear running creek and then ask why I’m not doing it, too. I’m different. And sometimes that’s harder than others. 

And while I’m biologically male, being essentially permanently kept in chastity makes me feel like something other than a man. It’s rewritten a lot of my motivations and behaviors that define “man” in my mind. I’m not claiming to be non-binary or anything, but I sometimes feel as though I’m passing as a man rather than actually being one. That I’m actually some other thing we don’t have a word for. And my differences are never more apparent and acute to me than when I’m here. 

But as the years have gone along and I’ve come to more of these trips, being out of chastity for them has felt more and more inauthentic to what I am: a kept male. As I’ve said, I don’t just wear the Steelheart. It’s part of me. So to take it off is to try and pass as something other than my true self. 

And, if somehow one of them saw the glint of shiny metal and had the balls to ask what the hell it is, what’s the worst that could happen? I’d have to out myself. Accept the consequences (which would, most likely, be a lot of ribbing after a 1,001 questions). In truth, I wish they all knew already. I hate that it’s a secret. It’s like being in the closet for me. But they don’t need to know, so I say nothing. But this super important part of who I am remains shrouded (metaphorically, of course it’s literally shrouded).

So, as on my last trip here with these guys and the one before that and probably even the one before that, though they tend to blend together, I didn’t ask to be let out. I didn’t ask for the spare key. I didn’t even think about either of those things. Because of course I’m here locked up. There just isn’t any real reason not to be. In fact, to come here without the Steelheart would be far stranger and more unsettling than being here in it. I’ve come full circle. Just another way being kept by Belle is fundamentally integrated into my being.

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The fulcrum

I’m so goddamned fucking horny right now. The kind of horny where the need and cravings and desire feel like the jet of a firehose against a solid steel plate. Lots of force without any consequence. Just vibrating energy.

I said “need and cravings and desire” but, being back in the Steelheart and not in a device I can back out of or even see what it contains, all those things in my mind are focused not on the contents but on other things.

I was out in the world earlier and seeing people I thought were attractive (which, not shockingly, is a lot more than usual when I’m like this) and imagining them grinding their pussies into my face or shoving their cocks down my throat.

All this following a morning with Belle where I felt like eating her whole and it’s clear I’m really back home in the Steelheart. For me, it’s the fulcrum between being inwardly focused vs. outwardly focused. A locked sub should, IMO, be outwardly focused always. Thinking about pleasuring his partner and even only fantasizing about that. I’m horny as fuck but now not thinking about being out. Only thinking about what I can do for someone else without a functioning penis.

That’s what being kept is all about. It’s who and what I am. My pleasure is driven by pleasuring them. Not even my fantasies allow for anything else.

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That moment

That moment where my finger’s sliding over her wet, hot clit and our bodies are pressed together with the contents of the Steelheart swollen and tight and wanting between us and our mouths are close enough for kissing but we aren’t and we simultaneously moan into each other.

That moment.

Is perfection.

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Contents

I just spent a week and a half wearing the Cobra chastity device made by KINK3D (though I bought it from Mr. S). It’s a device I’ve been seeing a lot of lately and I decided to give it a try and write up a review.

This is not that review.

As you can see, the Cobra is an open cage-style device. It’s quite attractive, I think, in semigloss exoskeleton black. But the thing I found as I wore it (especially since I was wearing it entirely unsupervised in situations that in my pre-kept life would have led to excessive self abuse) is how much more aware of the contents it made me.

Of course, I’m aware of the contents in the Steelheart, too. I know it’s in there. But the Steelheart, being entirely closed, merges with the contents and replaces it in my mind. It becomes something different. In a lot of ways, it and what it contains feel to me like some kind of symbiotic thing.

But with the Cobra, the contents are more on display. When trying to become erect, you can see the straining and puffing. It’s very visibly a penis in a cage which leads me to think about the contents so much more. They never felt like they merged to me.

And, like I said, I was in these situations where, a long time ago, I’d’ve been jerking off every single day. Especially toward the end of the period away, I was seriously thinking about the goddamn thing and craving its release from captivity. In way more pointed and specific ways than when I’m in the Steelheart.

I didn’t have a key and could not have removed it, but backing out of an unsecured device like the Cobra is supremely easy. This fact grew in my mind to such an extent that I had to have serious conversations with myself. Reminding me that the contents are not mine. Orgasm is not up to me. If I ignored those basic truths, I’d be very disappointed with myself. I would feel terrible. It became something of a mantra as the hours and miles rolled by.

If the Cobra was secured through my PA, none of this would have been an issue. Sure, I’d’ve still been horny, but that would be it. Just horny. No temptation. It is easier for me when that temptation is removed. But the contents and I both know non-PA fixed devices are really nothing more than simple deterrents. And…GAH.

Ultimately, that’s the luxury of PA-enforced chastity. Being just horny. No constant struggle with temptation. No chance of giving in to all those years of evolutionary programming for release. No risk of failing at one’s commitment.

The Cobra is a great device. That’s what my review will ultimately say. But I need a device that goes through as well as around its contents.

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The kept man’s conundrum

I kind of obsessively obsess over personal stats. I have two Apple Watches so I know exactly what range my normal minimum sleeping heart rate is (40-45 BPM) and what my normal daytime resting heart rate is (50-56 — thanks, running!). I weigh myself nearly daily to keep tabs on that (192.9 lbs most recently) and I track my daily net carbohydrate intake and even have a little doodad to help me know when my body is burning fat versus carbs. My motto is if a thing can be tracked and measured and reported, it should be tracked and measured and reported.

And that’s why I use an app to keep track of when, how, and for how long Belle keeps me in chastity. So I know that year to date, I’ve been locked in five different devices for 3,248 hours and unlocked for precisely 3 hours and 53 minutes. Three separate times so Belle could enjoy the contents fucking her (if, however, very briefly) and another time when I went to the doctor. That’s just a hair over one tenth of one percent not being kept. And even in almost four hours out of 3,250ish so far this year, it’s not like the contents were free. Those periods of not being locked were still being controlled. When you sign up for the life of a permanently kept man, it’s critical you accept that even when it’s not physically secured, the contents are not ever under your control.

I tweeted these numbers on the Twitter, as I do, and followed up with a comment that it would be “great” if the year ended with me being unlocked no more than ten hours. And that, you know, kind of swims upstream from the notion all the hot chastity porn gets frothy about. Locked guys are supposed to want out. To fuck and come or whatever. But I very certainly do not want out. Ever. Of course, I accept Belle’s total control over the contents and provide no objections whatsoever when she hands me the key so she can use it, but if she never handed me the key? Well, I would similarly offer no objection whatsoever.

I think the goal of a man being permanently kept is for him to be weaned off any attachment over his penis. First step beyond keeping him from getting to it is, as I’ve done, to never refer to it as mine. To never use the aggressive and action-biased word “cock” to describe it. It’s the penis. Or, better, the contents. Second is to train the man and his autonomous systems to stop associating the contents with sex. To fundamentally break the deep societal penis-centricity of MF sex. This is why some men in chastity think it causes erectile dysfunction. It doesn’t, but locked contents will stop getting as hard as often during sex once they figure out it’s not for them. The most incredible aspect of this physiological acceptance of place is how I will become sleepy after Belle comes. As if I have. I don’t know if I’m experiencing a true post-orgasmic prolactin dump or if it’s some kind of placebo version of one, but while she’s basking in her afterglow, I’ll nuzzle into her neck and fall asleep even while I feel the pressure in the tube subside.

The well-trained man in permanent chastity will no longer expect to be unlocked when it comes time for him to pleasure his partner. He’ll not only not expect it, he will not want it. Because it can be sometimes challenging to deal with the conflicting feelings of self-gratification while trying to stay focused on the pleasure that really matters — his partner’s. I am a much more patient and attentive curator of Belle’s orgasm when I’m not feeling her hand on the erect shaft of the penis and thinking three steps ahead to the glorious sensation of sliding into the hot, wet embrace of her pussy. A well-trained kept man knows that sensation is one he is not entitled to. Does not deserve simply because he has a hard penis. And not getting it makes not getting it make more sense to his kept, submissive brain.

Regardless, sometimes that’s what she wants and what she wants is the paramount motivation of our sex. So I need to find ways to wrap that logic pretzel around the moment. At least she doesn’t seem to want it much.

Tried something new with this one. I made a quick and dirty audio version of this post.

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Morning Glory

I love waking up. Not those alarm shrieking, got to get to work mornings, but those lazy mornings when I slowly rouse and my cock is hard in my cage.…

Morning Glory

Reblogging this post by Doc because I can relate. And I wish I wrote it. Spot on.

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The two types

It seems to me there are two kinds of men in chastity.

  1. Men with cocks locked in chastity devices
  2. Men with chastity devices

I think way back at the dawn of time when Belle locked our first CB6K on me, I was definitely the first type. And a lot of guys are always going to be that type. For them (and their keyholders), chastity is a means to an end. They use it tactically to enhance their sex lives and make the inevitable release, fucking, and orgasm as mind-blowing as possible. For sure, all the second types start out as the first type. As I did. But then we find ourselves in a new place. Where being locked up is no longer a means to an end. It is the end. You do it for it.

And to the first type, the second type will either seem totally crazy, which means they’ll always be the first type, or totally terrifying. As I did. And that fear, I think, is the best indication that they’re not going to become the second type. They already are the second type.

There are lots of examples I can think of in my own sexuality where I was confronted with something I had no conception of that scared the hell out of me only later to realize it was me. If you’re not into something, it either squicks you out or you think it’s hilarious or crazy or whatever. But the fear is rooted in something else. It’s self-realization fighting with shame.

I can recall the first time I read accounts of cuckolding. Of being cuckolded. I recall how it made me tremble. Of how panicked it made me feel. Because I saw myself in it in a way I did not expect. And I had to deal with what that meant. Of how I had to reassess my understanding of myself.

I think with chastity and denial it was slower, but the same. In the early days, I was frustrated at Belle for locking me up but then not letting me have as much sex with her as I wanted. Perhaps in an attempt to get me to leave her alone, she’d let me go unlocked and allow me to edge myself for hours in bed next to her while she slept. I’d literally jack off for hours, frothing myself up, leaking like the Titanic and making our bedroom stink of ejaculate. I mean, honestly, in retrospect. What the absolute fuck was that about?

Letting go of preconceptions about oneself is hard. I spent the first 40 or so years of my life defining my sexuality around the contents of the Steelheart. I was always leaning into submissiveness since I always wanted to get my partner off first and was very invested in their pleasure, but I also very much expected and felt entitled to my pleasure. I had pride of penis. Of its role and primacy. I can even remember arguing with Frodo way back in high school about whose dick was bigger. And thinking mine was. I mean, honestly, in retrospect. What the absolute fuck was that about?

Losing my pride of penis was scary and hard because I had to come to grips with being the kind of submissive that was almost entirely focused on my partner’s pleasure to such an extent that mine was totally ignored. And that being denied like that was how I found my pleasure. A satisfaction and contentment far in excess of post-orgasmic stupor. I had to let go of being the archetype male who is the sexual aggressor and penetrator and whose sexual release is celebrated over all things and become instead…this other thing. The second type of man in chastity. The type who lets go of his penis, figuratively and literally. A type of man we have no archetype for.

And, of course, this is who I am. And it no longer scares me. It provides me comfort. I am living my true life.

It’s impossible to imagine finding myself here without Belle. She had to adapt to what I needed nearly as much as I needed to adapt to being kept as I am. She never signed up to be married to a kept sub bottom who didn’t want to (and now barely can) fuck. She likes being fucked. Riding my hard-on was her preferred way to come. But she’s allowed her body to relearn some things to accommodate me. We’re not sure she can come from penetration anymore. It’s all digits and tongues now for her.

I can’t ever really express how grateful I am to her. Her understanding and generosity.

But, getting back to this post’s premise, there are two types of locked men. It’s worth asking yourself which type you are. Are you appalled at the idea of letting go of your cock? Or are you afraid of it? Or do you aspire to it?

There’s nothing wrong with either type. You are who you are. Embrace it.

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Getting to now

It should not be much of a surprise to anyone reading this that I find the idea of fucking Belle with the strap-on to be many times more of a turn-on than using the contents of the Steelheart. There are practical reasons for this but also deeply significant psychological ones. The dildo in the harness is always ready. Always hard. Never comes too quickly. Able to give Belle anything and everything she wants. As a man who’s nearly always kept in a chastity device and who hasn’t had a “normal” orgasm in who the hell knows how long and can’t actually fuck for more than 90 seconds, this is all practical good sense.

But also, the dildo is bigger than me. Obviously. And she prefers bigger than me (at least, girthier). And while I’m going through the motions of fucking her, the actual fucking part isn’t me. The part of me designed for fucking is just underneath the part getting to fuck, tight and pounding for release. Shoved roughly into the base of the dildo that’s buried deep inside her. The thing making her make those noises and squirm like she does. And that pushes a whole bunch of my buttons.

The thing I was thinking about and realized recently is that there really is no point in my sexual life where, if I could travel back to it and reveal this to myself, I wouldn’t totally get how it’d make me super turned on. I would not be like, what the fuck, dude? with myself at all. My sexuality is best defined as being willing to try almost anything once and, in fact, I used to say when I was far younger that I’d try anything once unless it hurt and, even if it did, I’d keep doing it until it stopped hurting before figuring out if I liked it. So while it’s been a dozen or so years since chastity and denial became part my life, I know for certain that I was 100% born be how I am now and certainly would have been this way had I been able to put the pieces together sooner and would have been 100% up for what I described above even when I was 17, 27, or 37.

This is, I suppose, what it must be like for someone who marries someone of the opposite gender and has a life only to realize much later they’re gay. That post-coming out life is the more authentic one and the life before was something like an act being performed. Not necessarily a lie as much as going through the normative motions expected because the alternative was either never realized or never thought to be possible. That’s how it is for me. I know what I am now — submissive, denied, a bottom — is what I always have been. And when I think back to all the time before when I was jacking off whenever I wanted and selfishly retreating into my own masturbatory fantasies and just not being who I am sexually…it’s not with regret. I don’t begrudge that time. Everything happens in its own pace, I suppose. But I do wish it all could have started sooner. Because right now is pretty great. And I only regret not getting here sooner.

Earlier today I was texting with Frodo. Without getting into too much detail, he described the D/s dynamic as “role play.” And while I didn’t challenge him on that, it immediately reminded me how Dan Savage describes kinky sex in general as “cops and robbers with your clothes off.” And that’s always left me a little put off. I’m sure it’s not this way for everyone, especially the switchy among us, but I’m not playing at anything when I think about my submission. I know I’ve always been a sub and will always be a sub and, for me, it is so real and genuine and necessary. I do not, in a scene, act submissive. I allow myself to be myself. I remember when Belle slowly came to the realization that she liked having me locked up, wanted me that way, expected me to be that way. When she came into her own as my keyholder and I stopped thinking she was doing any of it to humor me. It all became so much better.

Of course, Frodo didn’t mean anything by what he said. He was just using the words he has and I get that. And, to be honest, I don’t really know where this is going. Sometimes, you start writing a post with an idea where it’s going to end up and sometimes the post has a mind of its own like now. I guess, in closing, the best way to summarize the moral of this post is be true to yourself. Don’t put on an act for anyone else’s sake. Be your authentic self as soon as possible. Everything is so much better on the other side.

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Rubbing one out

It started innocently enough. Belle and I were watching some TV before she had to get on a conference call. Her job requires her to get on work calls at odd hours. Sometimes very early, sometimes at night. All part of being on a global team, I’m told.

So yeah, we’re there on the couch and I have my hand on her leg and was sort of absently rubbing it when a sudden urgency sprang up from the dispersed cloud of general horniness I’ve been feeling lately. I gripped her inner thigh and made an involuntary grunty sound and was really aware of wanting to bury my face in her snatch.

“Oh, that’s how it is,” she said (or something like it).

“That’s how it is,” I replied. “Maybe later you can sit on my face.”

I mean, it was a weeknight. Lol. She doesn’t usually want that stuff on weeknights and especially not on a Monday night after getting off twice over the weekend. So she went off to take her call and I watched a bit more TV before heading off to bed to read.

You see, I’ve been up late lately watching the worst most wonderful sport known to mankind; baseball. Games start at 7:00 and don’t end until about 11:00. They’re not just any baseball games. They’re World Series games and my team is in it. So I was thinking I’d read about the Revolutionary War for a bit, get sleepy, then catch up on my zzz.

But, as I said, I’ve been like 17% hornier than usual lately. I wasn’t asleep yet when Belle got off her call and came to bed. She told me I could sleep naked (which is a thing I’m not supposed to do without explicit permission). So then I was naked and horny. But I was tired and almost got there. But not quite. Belle had had an annoying call and was grumpy and was struggling to sleep herself and I picked up on that. Usually, she drops off to sleep almost immediately but she was tossing and turning and then sidled up next to me and put her hand on my naked ass.

BOING.

*shuddering breath*

“You know, if you’re having a hard time falling asleep, I can get you off. That…could help.”

She made an amused little sound which I assumed could be translated as, “Nice try, rabbit.” But no. She ran her hand over my ass and down between my legs. And then back up…and back down again.

My back arched like the slut I am. Ooooooh did that feel good. Her finger teased my perineum and then traced my crack back up to the small of my back. Instant pressurization of the Steelheart. I could have laid there like that for a week, but a little voice told me, You’re supposed to be getting her off, not letting her stroke your ass.

I rolled over to face her. Her hand went right to my balls and gave them an aggressive crunch. I winced with pain but it didn’t stop me from kissing her. Sometimes, she decides to hurt me more than others. It seemed to me her frustration with that call was going to be channeled into my testicles. And I would have to take it.

She can hurt me, but I can’t hurt her back. So while she was squeezing my balls against one another and the steel between them, digging in her nails and pulling hard on them, I had to maintain gentle kissing. When I pulled up her top, I needed to lick and suck her nipples gently. As much as I wanted to bite them, that is entirely forbidden. I absorb pain, I do not create it.

I worked my left arm up behind her head to get access to her other nipple from behind and moved back and forth from her mouth to her tit, licking and sucking one hardened nub while very gently rolling the other between my thumb and forefinger. My right hand ran up and down her inner thigh and flicked over the point on her bottom when I could feel the humid heat of her desire respond to me.

Her bottoms came off and my middle finger quickly found the slit below her clit, already seeping and wet. Then I moaned. Jesus god, I love pussy. I love her pussy. Had it been up to me, I would have buried my face in it. I would have eaten that pussy like a last meal to a starved man. But that’s what I wanted. What I inferred she wanted was to just get off as simply and efficiently as possible. So I didn’t even ask. Didn’t even consider making a move on my own. So my middle finger traced and flicked and encircled her clit and rubbed it in and out while I suckled the nipple in my mouth.

Attempting to get her off on a third consecutive day can sometimes simply not work. But I could tell this was working. I can read her hips and how she breathes. Her little moans. I know her orgasm as well as my own. This was going to work.

The contents of the Steelheart painfully pushed at the inside of the tube. As if it was there for the first time and assumed with enough effort it could break free. Her hand kept its grip on my balls and her crushing grew stronger the closer she got to orgasm.

Then she came. And it was beautiful. And painful. But still beautiful. As always.

Then her hand let go and the blood rushed back into my scrotum. She basked and I thrummed with unspendable energy. As she came down from her climax, the contents of the Steelheart flexed and surged in defiance. A useless waste of effort.

Shortly afterward, she was asleep. Breathing regularly, my mission accomplished. But I was…not asleep. Then I was not asleep some more. Then some more.

Random pornographic images pushed into my head and I tried to stiff-arm them to the side. But it was a losing battle. Eventually, something formed in my imagination with enough clarity to cause the tube to pressurize. And then I was done.

I find it a highly addictive feeling. I like how it feels for the contents to squeeze and throb with my heartbeat. It’s my earliest kink. And once I feel it, I want to feel it again. I want to feel it harder. I want the base ring of the Steelheart to bite into the straining contents. There’s never a time when the contents are driving the bus more than those times. Late at night. When I can’t stop my filthy imagination from running rampant. And with every shift and turn in bed, the weight of the steel and the captive meat and blood pull and tug and flop around making them and their situation more obvious.

Sometimes, I can recite a kind of mantra. Telling myself I am supposed to be like that. I was born to be that way. To suffer the frustration and urges. Often, that acts as a kind of soothing balm and I can catch a few hours of sleep.

But not last night. The contents woke me up again and again, like a petulant brat, just as I neared the edge of sleep. Swelling and subsiding over and over. Like a slow cadence of waves on a beach.

So I got zero sleep last night. And the game starts tonight at 7:00. Game six. Potentially the last game of the series and the first championship for my team since 1988.

Ugh.

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Mailbag

Welp, I changed email clients and never set up my thumper account and now am woefully behind in answering reader questions. Woefullier than usual which is pretty fucking woeful. I am going to reply here to anything sent from June onward. If you sent me something before that…I’m sorry. Try again.

Joe jumps in:

Great blog. Great writing about a subject not easy to capture in words. I’m a 55 year old, bisexual, (non-active) married guy, no kids on our second dog. I’m a sub to my wife and she has purchased my last 2 Holy Trainers. I don’t wear 24/7, but for most waking hours I am locked everyday. It’s been an awesome experience that has changed the way we communicate for the better and improved our sex life for the better. Over the last 4-5 years, I’ve had a tiny fraction of the orgasms I used to have (daily) where K has many times what she used to get. It’s a win-win and we both couldn’t be happier. I love the fact that sexual pleasure for us has moved from me getting off to her getting off as much as she wants and my orgasms being rare occurrences, if they happen at all. There’s an indescribable feeling of being locked and making her cum….and she’s not thinking about me getting off at all.

Here’s where my question comes in. I’m curious about where cuckolding stands at this point in your fantasy/ real life. I’ve read your posts about TOG and Joe the Dildo. I may have missed a post or two, but it seems like it moves from being a potential reality to back in the pure fantasy world with both of you enjoying the scenario but, never finding (or wanting to find?) the right situation.

I feel like we are in that situation (which is ok!) But, being focused on her pleasure, I really do want her to have that bigger cock she does fantasize about. But, people and intimate relationships being what they are, it’s complicated!

I guess I’m wondering where you and Belle stand on this aspect of FLR and chastity. They have always seemed inextricably linked in my brain, though I can’t say that is the case with K.

Would appreciate your thoughts on the subject and how it manifests itself in you and Belle’s daily life.

Ultimately, as with all things, it’s Belle’s choice. She chooses not to actualize the physical aspects of cuckolding at this point. She has virtual relations that I’m not party to and she does have Joe the Dildo we both get to enjoy, but unless something changes I expect that’s how it’s going to remain.

I do link FLR and cuckolding. To me, the latter is the logical extension of the former. But female led means she gets to decide what she wants and not all women want that. At the moment, it’s not something Belle wants enough to make a third person a reality.

Andreas asks:

thanks for sharing and writing such an informative and real blog.

I come straight to the point: I am trying to extend my time wearing the ‘real swiss’ V3 Nub with a 50mm ring,

Two issues:

1. night time erections result in it pulsing / pulling out of the cage, i.e. escape is super easy.

2. the back of the nub, flange rubs into the skin and I suffer abrasions in various places.

I have quite a lot of scrotum. also uncut foreskin, and my questions are:

1. may a larger 55mm ring help (i also own the 45mm one and that is def way too small)

2. I am minded to get a cage 2 sizes up from the nub for nighttime use for now and ‘shrink’ into the nub over time.

3. in your opinion is the V4 enough of an upgrade to buy all new? Or would you settle to buy another ring and cage for the V3 kit I have?

In the longer term I am looking to get pierced and get a custom device but at present we are trying to settle into proper chastity to see if we want to proceed and it appears to us that a nub is the best tool for now if I can overcome the issues above, any help greatly appreciated.

I couldn’t find a device called “real Swiss” so I’m going to assume it’s the Holy Trainer which is Swiss.

Bottom line, I think you need a bigger tube. No, you will not shrink over time. I’ve been locked up for the better part of a dozen years and the contents are the same size when they’re out and hard as they were when we started this. You don’t say how big your dick is when it’s erect, so I suspect you’re just too big for the nub size. Maybe try a nano or small. Personally, I’d want a device I could wear all the time and not mess around with (or be tempted by) something I had to change before I went to bed, but that’s me.

If it saves you a few bucks, just get a new v3 tube for your 50mm ring.

Good luck!

Ike liked:

Hey Thumper, I am obsessed with your blog and Twitter, it makes my male clit a twitch every time I read your posts .

I am quite new to chastity, and i had a very random question… so the (metal) chastity device I got fits nicely and I can actually wear it for long periods during the day. My concern is at night when I get an overnight erection my balls look extremely red, like you can tell circulation is limited. Do you experience this or am I definitely wearing the wrong size ring?

I hate taking it out for the concern the circulation might actually be impacted.

During the day my balls look fine, it’s just when I get the erection that my balls look red… since I am new to this, I wanna know if this is part of the adjustment in becoming a sub caged fag .

I am no doctor, but red is not an issue as long as they don’t become blue/purple, cold, or numb which all would indicate a circulation issue. Mine get reddish when the contents are straining so I think that’s not unusual. If you experience excessive pain or pain that lasts after your erections subside, then the ring may be too tight.

I recall when I first started that I thought my rings were all too tight. In time, I found they were all too big. Weird.

Armin applied:

Dear Thumper, I am from Germany and I would like to thank.you for the door you opened for my wife and myself. Your excellent style makes this journey an aestethic experience. 

I have some questions:

How strictly does Belle control your cock is caged? Is this more a matter of trust (and committment, based on your set of rules) or is she doing anything like unannounced inspections? Would she notice if you would open the cage and lock it again using another key code? And who decides which cage you wear?

Best regards from Germany.

She doesn’t do unannounced inspections, though when we’re apart I will sometimes offer her daily proof of being locked. Very occasionally, she’ll ask for proof. For a while, my emergency key was not secured but recently I put it back in a numbered key safe and have even asked her to take it and her key the last time she was away from me. Fact is, no, she probably would not notice if I cheated. But then I’d have to live with the reality of cheating. And that would be miserable.

Regarding which cage I wear, she lets me decide that entirely. She always prefers the Steelheart (German made! 🇩🇪) but will allow me to switch when I feel like mixing it up. I can’t recall her ever not letting me change cages.

Dave denounced:

Do you have any posts that talk about the PA stretching process or appropriate gauges for jewelry for chastity devices? Is there a standard gauge that’s appropriate? 

I just got my PA and am doing my research.

I don’t think there’s a standard. Not one I’ve seen. I think less than 6 ga is too narrow and more than 4 ga is overkill.

Hob gobbled:

Right now I have an inexpensive metal device from amazon. It’s actually pretty good, considering. The only problem is that the base of my penis slips out a little (1–2 cm) after it’s on for a bit. I think it’s partly the weight of the cage, but it also happens anytime I get aroused. Is this just the nature of all devices or could this be fixed by a better device (like the holy trainer). I’d it’s just the nature of all devices I’ll just stick with what I have. 

That sounds 100% normal to me. The Steelheart does the same thing. It’s less prevalent from plastic since those devices are lighter.

Another reader (sorry, lost your name!) asked:

I recently got a bon4m (though I have now noticed you gave it a poor review). When I wear it while flaccid there’s no problem and I can stick a finger between myself and the device. However, when I get erect the veins on my balls become prominent and it has me worried the ring is too tight. I tried moving up a ring size but still had the same problem. I never had this problem with the hod300 that I was wearing before. Should I move up a ring size again – despite that this causes the device to slip. I’m already wearing the largest spacer. Many thanks.

Like I said above, I don’t think there’s an issue until they become blue/purple, cold, or numb.

John jabbered:

I’m considering a PA for eventually using in conjunction with a chastity device. Do you use cages that rely on your PA? If so, are they more or less comfortable than ball-trap devices in your opinion? I have a relatively comfortable jail bird from mature metal, but there are still times when I wonder what’s out there with lower profiles and this potentially more comfortable. Any advice would be greatly appreciated!

Lower profile devices like the Holy Trainer Nano or Nub don’t really have anything to do with PA-secured devices and all the devices I wear, PA-secured and not, are trapped-ball devices because they have base rings that encircle the testicles. So…I think that answered your question?

Steve stewed:

I’ve been a long time lurker / follower of yours and life has gotten me to the point where I’m thinking I’d like to get some of my (mis) adventures up in a blog. 

Some background….When I first happened across your blog a number of years back I was a drunk, in a sexless marriage, and could only fantasize about the things you blog about. Today, I’m 6 years sober, divorced, in a full on poly relationship; my cock is locked up and I don’t have a key….As I type these letters, my VERY bi fiancé (I guess I’d call myself situationally bi) is with her lesbian GF and they’re banging each other with a dildo that is MUCH more of a cock than genetics gave me.  

You’ve inspired me, and I’d be very interested in starting a dialog with you and picking your brain / getting some guidance on setting up a blog. If you’re so inclined, please feel free to email me. Thanks!!

I hope this finds you, Belle, and your family well.

OMG. One, that sounds really fucking hot. Two, I’m so happy for you. For all of you. And three, I would read that blog! I have (very belatedly) replied to your email.

And on that note…more than enough for today!