Category: Life with Belle

Stuff that really happened to Thumper and/or Belle Fille

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Monkey bites

Tomorrow is Denying Thumper’s second anniversary. I don’t have a cake or anything, but I thought it was worth mentioning.

At the beginning of this past weekend, I told Belle that I thought she needed a minimum of two orgasms to make up for the two week long menstruation/travel/illness-induced dry spell we’ve had with regard to sex. She seemed receptive to the idea so, as we settled into bed Saturday night, I was highly expectational that something was going to happen.

It all started kinda slowly, but picked up speed rapidly. I was kissing her and licking her nipples and pressing against her sex when she latched onto my neck and started to bite and suck. Shortly thereafter, I was had three big, dark monkey bites on my shoulder/neck and a painfully tight tube. The erection her cock was trying to achieve was not the run of the mill kind that manifests whenever she allows me to pleasure her. It was seriously trying to bust out of the steel. And it hurt.

“I want you to eat me out,” she said breathlessly into my ear. Fuck yes.

I got up to close the door and the entire package of cock and device stood straight out and bobbed up and down with each step. By the time I turned around, she was totally naked with legs spread wide. I crawled up between with my head lowered, thankful for what I was about to receive, and dove in. I found, though, that the cock was so hard inside its prison that I couldn’t lay on my stomach as I usually do. The shaft refused to bend down and out of the way so I had to go down on Belle with my ass raised off the bed. That changed my angle of attack and made it so that I could only reach up and finger one nipple at a time.

She was quite enjoying the attention I was able to give her pussy and after a short while said, “Fuck me with your fingers.” I inserted first my middle and then my index finger and fucked them in and out, curving them upward to maximize G-spot stimulation, all the while continuing to flick my tongue over and around her clit. Her juices were everywhere.

When her orgasm came, I could feel it everywhere. The energy of it ran out of her pussy, through my fingers, and across my whole body. The encased meat throbbed in sympathy. I kept my tongue planted even though she was pushing it away. By the time the orgasm crested, she was limp and glowing and I was ringing like a struck bell, face still in her pussy, fingers still up her snatch.

Sleep came late for me that night.

Sunday, we were supposed to break out Mr. Darcy, but we had a bunch of family over that night and she was too tired to play. Her decision was somewhat disappointing, I admit, but even though I was really interested in more Belle-time, my disappointment didn’t curdle into anything worse. It’s at times like these, lately, that I’m able to somehow redirect the negative energy in a way that actually makes me feel good. It’s all for her, after all. She holds all the cards and deals them how she wants.

She snuggled up into me and fell asleep while I watched the Phillies dismantle the Reds, hand on my steel tube between my legs. I was and am horny, but two years in, I feel like we’re doing it right. Right for us, anyway.

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Hand versus brain

Got home late last night, as expected, following yet another post-season loss by the Twins to the Yankees (don’t even get me started) and pretty much went right to bed. I wasn’t at all horny and had little interest in trying to make myself that way. I fell asleep.

After a bit, I turned over and partially woke up. My hand absentmindedly found it’s way under my pajama bottom’s waistband to the flaccid and free cock.

“Oh yeah,” my hand said, “that’s still here.”

“Um…what are you doing?” my sleepy brain asked.

“Nothing,” said my hand, “Go back to sleep.”

“OK.” *yawn*

Squeeze.

“Whoa,” said my brain, “That’s not nothing.”

“Well, it’s not much.”

“Just leave it alone. It’s not yours to play with, and besides, it’s sleeping. You should be, too.”

“Right,” said my hand, “Just a sec.”

Squeeze.

“Stop squeezing that,” said my brain, unamused.

“Leave me alone. I’m not hurting anything. Look, it’s not even hard. I’m just…squeezing.”

“Why? Why are you squeezing?”

“Because, that’s what I do. I grip things. I squeeze them. Mind your own business.”

The cock started to plump up a bit.

“Jesus!” my brain hissed, “You woke it up! You really need to stop this.”

“Really? I really do? You realize, of course, that I can’t do anything by myself. This is only happening because you want it to.”

Squeeze, stroke. Plump.

“I…I…,” stammered my brain, “I do not. No, I don’t. I don’t want you to do that…not at all.”

“Mmm-hmm,” said my hand.

Squeeze, stroke, squeeze, stroke. Stroke, stroke, stroke. The cock was at 80% and filling fast.

“Look,” reasoned the hand, “We’ve hardly seen this thing move for, like, four days. We should keep going. Just to make sure. You know, just to make sure it still works and all.”

“That…sounds reasonable,” said the brain, “But as soon as we do that, it’s back to sleep and you leave it along.”

“Sure. That’s exactly what I’ll do.”

Ninety percent…stroke…stroke…98%…squeeze…stroke…100%.

“Um…*pant*…er…OK…that’s enough, don’t you think? It’s working and all…”

Strokestrokestrokestrokestrokestrokestrokestroke!

, said my brain.

“YEE-HAW!!” said my hand.

STROKESTROKESTROKESTROKESTROKESTROKESTROKE…stroke, stroke…STROKESTROKESTROKESTROKESTROKESTROKE.

“Moan,” said my brain, “groan.”

STROKE! STROKE! STROKE! STROKE! STROKE! STROOOOOOOOOOOOOKE!

“FUCK!” exclaimed the brain, “Too close! Too fucking close! Stop NOW.”

Dribble.

“Fucking hell, look what you almost made happen!”

“…” said my hand.

“HEY! I’m talking here!”

“What, sorry? Oh, hi. Yeah, I was just smearing all this nice slippery precum stuff all over the head of the cock. Doesn’t that feel nice?”

“Er…well, yes, now that you mention it, yes it does…feel…nice…”

“Uh-huh.”

“That’s not the damned point! You nearly got us in a lot of trouble. And now I’m totally awake. More than, in fact. You need to knock this shit off right now or I’m going to have to get us out of bed and put that damned steel thing back on. Is that what you want?”

“No.”

“Then will you stop?”

“Yes.”

“Really?”

Pause. “No.”

“That’s what I thought,” said my brain. Then, for good measure, it added, “Asshole.”

Five minutes later I was locked up tight. Very tight. And my hand was grasping the steel tube, pulling on it, squeezing my balls.

“Fuck,” said my hand.

“Go to sleep,” said my brain. And I did.

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On my own recognizance

I’m done being sick. Well, I’m 92% done being sick. I’m feeling much better.

Monday night, I was feeling so crappy that every last scrap of my libido was obliterated and the device was seriously bumming me out. Belle’s still gone, so I popped the emergency key and took the Steelheart off. I only felt slightly guilty because I know Belle would have let me take it off had she been here. Regardless, there was zero chance I was going to do anything against the rules. There’s no better chastity then whatever the fuck I had.

Tuesday, I went to work in the morning but bailed before lunch. I still had no interest in the unencumbered meat, but I was feeling well enough to try the PA-5000 again and see if my theory about using a smaller gauge hook would make it more comfortable. Short story is no. I wore it for about eight hours and started to feel the same uncomfortableness in my PA so I took it out. In a perfect world, I would have put the SH back on, but I could tell there was still no risk of falling off the wagon.

Today, as I said, I feel much better, but the cock still lies dormant. My illness seems to have reset whatever denial vibe I had going back to zero (or maybe even less than zero) and my interest in sex is only barely recognizable as living. There’s a pulse, but not much else. I feel like I’m treading a fine line between legitimately letting myself out due to illness and abusing the opportunity, especially since Belle won’t be back until tomorrow to make sure I’m on the up and up. I honestly don’t want want to take advantage of the situation. Not that I could at the moment. I’m fairly uninterested in anything sexual and am not sure the equipment would cooperate even if I could muster the required focus.

In any event, if my recovery continues along its current trajectory, I may need to reestablish control tonight. I’ll be at the Twins game (GO TWINS!) until late and may just be too tired when I get home, but as I said, there is a very slight stirring down there. The pilot light is on and I can just now feel the tank starting to heat up. If not tonight, then no later than tomorrow morning. I don’t think I could legitimately justify being out by the time I see Belle again tomorrow night.

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Three things that suck

The three things that suck for me right now:

  1. I’m sick. Like, flu sick. And that really pisses me off because a week ago I got a flu shot. I’m so sick that I didn’t even have an erection for 36 hours starting Saturday night. The penis never felt smaller bouncing around in the voluminous tube. Illness-induced shrinkage, I’m sure.
  2. Belle was on her period all weekend. Like, in the “no, please don’t touch me” kind of way. They’re not always like that, but combined with my aforementioned illness, there was no joy in Thumperville.
  3. My Belle Fille’s in The Town of Our Lady the Queen of the Angels on the Porciúncula River (AKA, Hollywood, baby!). I hate being away from her. Hate it hate it hate it. Plus, I forgot to ask for the Token before she left, so assuming I recover, I’ll be limited to porn. No touchy.

Friday night, we discussed letting me try the PA-5000 again for the weekend. I’m thinking my issues might have been caused by using a 4ga PA hook. I wanted to try a thinner one to see if it’d make a difference. But, she forgot. I forgot. It never happened. And I was sick. And she was all gross period feeling. And now she’s gone.

OK, pity party over. Back to the game shows.

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No news, good news

It’s been a quiet week on Lake Wobegon, er, I mean in the rabbit warren. Both Belle and I had stressful weeks at work which only let up yesterday. To celebrate that fact, Belle got her period. In any event, there wasn’t much interest all the way around in sex, though the weekend is now upon us. Maybe she’ll let me get away with something, blood or no blood. We’ll see.

In other Thumper news, the Chastity Forums are off to a great start. If you’re not already a member, check the place out and consider singing up. It’s great to have a community of like-minded folks that’s essentially run by those same folks. Sorry to say the old Male Chastity Forum has gone a bit quiet. Well, not that sorry. OK, not at all sorry. If you head over to the forums now, you’ll see the device I’m currently obsessing over.

I find that minding the forum and participating in some of the threads has lessened my blogging energy. Some people seem to have an endless supply, but I wake up with a finite appetite to be social online and the combination of blogging, Facebook, and forums tend to use up every drop by the time I get home at night. I’ve even let the Portfolio suffer this week. I suppose I could always try working…

Anywho, I didn’t wan the blog to go dark and leave some of you wondering what the deal was. I’ll write when something happens.

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PA5K

Belle thinks it’s funny to name my chastity devices. That means last night, after the PA-5000’s box had been opened and the enclosed device secured onto the cock, she was running through a bunch of, “I think we should call it…” scenarios.

I thought most of the names were kinda silly, so I said (maybe more shortly than I should have), “I think we should call it the one I wear when I’m away from you.”

To which she replied, “I think we should call it the one you wear when I tell you to.”

Snap!

“Sorry, Belle Fille,” I said, quietly.

“Let’s not forget who’s in charge around here, OK?”

“You’re in charge, Belle Fille.”

“That’s right.”

—

My first impression of the PA5K is that it feels really weird compared to the other devices I’ve worn. It’s very light and, as anyone can see, it doesn’t involved anything more then the end of the erect shaft. It’s sort of a tease for someone like me, accustomed to a full trapped-ball device, since it feels, when flaccid, that I’m free to have an erection. And, in fact, I can achieve pretty much a full erection. It’s like I have a cock again. However, I can’t do a damned thing with it.

For those of you reading this who don’t have penises attached to your bodies, understand that in order to successfully jack off, you need to be able to stimulate the area of the penis on the bottom of the shaft and adjacent to the head. In other words, right where the lock on the PA5K sits. Typically, this involves grasping and rolling whatever foreskin you have up and over the penis head (with or without lubrication). Also, not possible with the PA5K. It not only covers the money zone of penile stimulation, it also anchors that area to the wearer’s PA hole. Basically, it makes that entire area static and untouchable. So, you know, a fairly effective chastity device.

That said, it’s not the experience I’m used to. It doesn’t arrest the erection much at all. Also, there’s no ancillary sensation around my scrotum. Also also, I can jack off about 60% of the hard cock, though as I said, it’s the wrong 60%. I probably could not masturbate to orgasm wearing the PA5K and it’s enough of a deterrent that I’m not likely to try for very long.

On a chastity intensity scale of 1-10 where the CB6K is (or can be fitted to be) about an 8.5 and my Steelheart is about a 7, the PA5K is about a 4. Maybe less. It’s been really easy to live with in the 20 hours or so I’ve been wearing it.

The only issue I’ve had so far is with pain around my PA. It was worse in the morning, but I don’t think it had anything to do with the erection. First of all, the “ring” part that slips up and into my piercing doesn’t move around or hang down into my urethra like a real ring. Instead of shifting around as my position does, it stays fixed relative to the hole and makes the meat move around it. This is putting areas of my urethra into contact with the device that normally don’t touch my PA jewelry much at all. Second, it’s made of plastic which, as I’ve mentioned before in discussing the drawbacks of the CB6K, tends to grab my skin (even the skin inside the cock). In the morning when everything is try, I can really feel it.

With regard to fit, I probably could have bought the middle size. When I measured the cock before, I was doing so around the base where it’s thicker. Up near the end, where it’s narrower, the PA5K nearly perfectly encircles the erect shaft. When flaccid, there can be a fair amount of space between it and me. It’s not a bad fit (or, at least, it doesn’t seem to be). In fact, it provides a very subtle pressure when hard. Quite easy to deal with compared to the cramped confines of the CB6K tube.

Regardless of what Belle wants to call it, I think it will end up being the perfect travelling chastity companion. She’s decided that I will wear it until Sunday night to make sure it’s acceptable, then I’m back to serving hard time in the Steelheart until the time comes that I need to fly.

—

After she allowed me to give her an orgasm, and while I was pressing my erect yet still chastised cock into her ass as she was falling to sleep, I said, “God, I want to fuck you so bad right now.”

“Thumper, it’s hardly been two weeks yet,” she scolded me gently, “You’ve got a long way to go before that’s going to happen.”

“I know, but I really want to.”

“You’ll need to do better than that when it’s time for the sesquicentennial.”

“Sesquicentennial? You’re going to leave me locked up for 150 years?” I asked.

“No, but the times coming when I’ll leave you in for 150 days.”

Whimper. “A hundred and fifty days is a long time,” I said quietly.

“Yes,” she replied, “but you’re up to it.”

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Token

“I kinda like watching you squirm. When you’re like this.”

Belle said that to me last night as we were laying in bed and I was looking up at her, imploring her to allow me to share in her orgasm. It was a no-go, but she let me dangle just long enough for me to get really squirrelly.

“Whimper,” I replied.

A little while later, after I had internalized the hormones from earlier, I thought about how I’d like to work myself over with the Njoy pur (and whatever else struck my fancy). But, as I’ve mentioned before, Belle doesn’t let me do anything sexual with my body without her permission. No ass play, no self-administered nipple torture, no solo activities of any kind (other than the consumption of porn). I have to ask first.

“So, how’s this work?” I asked. “If I want to play around by myself. Do you give me permission in advance…?” I trailed off.

“Sure. You don’t have to run off and do it as soon as I say yes. You can do it whenever you want.”

Which is a relief. The only thing more embarrassing that having to ask your wife if you can masturbate (even with a locked cock) is having to then scamper off and lock yourself in the bathroom…where she knows what you’re doing.

“So will I have blanket permission for a certain period…or what?” It seemed to me that it made sense to let me have permission to take advantage of whatever private moment I could find, but how would she know when I was done? Seemed like I could find a way to abuse that arrangement.

“We need a token,” I said. “Something physical that I have to get from you that allows me to play with myself that I can give back when I’m done or that you can take back when you want to.”

“Like the little reward tokens at daycare?” she joked.

“Pretty much exactly like that, yes.” I said. “Can I have the token now?”

“What token? We don’t have one.”

“I don’t know. Can’t we have a virtual token or something for the time being?”

“OK, sure. You can have it. We need to pick something.”

“Agreed. Thank you, Belle Fille.”

Then she more or less fell asleep. I almost drifted off, but, as usual, my buzzing sexual background radiation woke me back up. I was laying there, spooning into her, wide awake. And still in my pajamas. She had forgotten to give me permission to take them off. Damn.

I rolled over and read porn. Lots and lots. Kristen again, but also Nifty. Nifty is mostly gay stuff and I’m finding recently that my pendulum is swinging back in that direction. As I peruse the Tumblr porn tsunami, I tend to linger on the gratuitous cock shots. I don’t have any particular urge to do anything with them when I see them, but not having a hard cock of my own to appreciate, I’m draw to these others instead. Fat ones, fatter ones, soft(ish) ones, hard ones, smooth ones, hairy ones, flying ones, big ones, really big ones – all kinds. I’m a little obsessed. I stare at them, slack-jawed. Sometimes, when I get like this and I’m all locked up and can’t see a real live hard cock for myself, I feel kinda like a third sex. I don’t have what they have. Instead, I have this hard shiny thing that gets really uncomfortably tight from time to time.

Anyway, I’d read some porn, then roll over to try to sleep. But my brain would keep working and I’d be drawn back to the iPad to read just one more story. Well, that one wasn’t all that good. Maybe just one more. Fuck the device is tight. This is killing my nuts. OK, time to sleep. *sigh* I’m not tired. Damn, iPad’s back on again. And so on. I eventually did drift off about 2:30 or so only to be woken by a late-summer thunderstorm. Belle woke up, too, so I spooned back into her again, just as I had done hours earlier.

“You can take off your clothes, Thumper,” she said  sleepily as she rolled over.

“Thank you, Belle Fille.”

And then I slept.

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Extend and revise

Even though I spent a lot of time writing yesterday’s post (well, relatively a lot of time – truth is I’m usually just kinda banging them out), I’m not sure I adequately captured the point I wanted to make.

Yes, I am much better recently at coping with the fact that Belle’s totally in control of sex. No, that does not mean I’m not still trying to get down her pants whenever she lets me get away with it. I said something about giving up my right to sex and that’s not entirely right. I still expect we’ll have sex, but that’s because she’ll want it, not me. What I’ve given up is any right to being a party to deciding if and when it’ll happen. I might come on to her and try to get her interested, but it’s entirely her decision. She has the right to shut me down whenever she wants and I have the right to deal with it.

The thing I especially want her to try to get over is worrying about disappointing me. It kills me to think she’ll feel guilty. Even if she says we’ll have sex at some point and she decides she’s really not in the mood when the time comes, that’s OK. My disappointment is an unavoidable side effect of the dynamic. This will be hard for her, I know, but I’m being really and truly genuine.

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Evolution

The hardest thing to deal with regarding this whole enforced chastity thing (at least the way we play it) isn’t being physically locked or not coming for weeks and months or anything like that. The hardest thing to deal with, for me, has been really and truly accepting that she has control over my sex. All the time, no matter what. I’ve struggled with that over the nearly two years (seriously? has it been two years already?) since I gave her the cock, sometimes more successfully than others. Lately, though, I feel like my ability to deal with this reality has improved.

Fundamentally, I’m a fairly self-centered and selfish person. Not to a fault, but my default POV regarding any situation is usually to ask how it can be made to benefit me. I am, to put it bluntly, spoiled. It may be partly the effect of being an only child, but I don’t thing it’s that simple. In any event, top that with a healthy frosting of control-freak tendencies and mild obsessive-compulsiveness and you end up with a person who has to try very hard to see when he’s being selfish.

But that’s what I have always been with regard to sex. Even before Belle, but especially after chastity entered our lives. Before, if I was in need, I could take the situation in hand and resolve it (and resent her for not being a part of it). Now, that’s simply not possible. She’s the sole focus of my sex drive. On occasion, all that pent up energy has led me to become too pushy. Too much focused on my urges and not enough on hers. So much so that I’ve forgotten our deal. The deal I proposed and wanted.

At the end of my last lock-up, there was a period in which we had no sex. Maybe 10 days or so. I really wanted it, but she never responded to my advances and made none of her own. I don’t know what the deal was, but anyone in a relationship knows this happens from time to time. In the past, something like that would have seen me building up pressure like a propane tank with a faulty safety valve. Eventually, there would have been words and hurt feelings and all kinds of nastiness. But not this time. All I needed to know was that she hadn’t forgotten me. That she knew I was still there and still dealing with the consequences of what I had given her. That was all. Somehow, that was enough to help me deal. Oh yeah, I still wanted to feel her hot wet pussy and eat her all up, but the feeling was in stasis. Waiting for her to need it.

This is a big deal. Somehow, all the months of denial – from ejaculation and access to my own body – have made me lose the feeling of being owed sex by her. As if it was an entitlement. It is not mine anymore. I have willingly given up my right to it. And I know it. I can feel it.

Frankly, the thought that I’d someday be in this place scared me. I don’t know why. Maybe I thought truly submitting my sexuality to hers would mean I’d lose mine. That by not acting on my urges or by insufficiently acknowledging them, they’d go away. Or something. I don’t know. What I do know is that submitting (or “surrendering” as the cool kids are calling it 😉 ) is really hard.

This doesn’t mean I’m still not horny as hell. I am. I’m all kinds of horny. But I’m not going to pressure her no matter how bad it gets. I will still struggle from time to time, but I know that this is how things are supposed to be between us. I feel like I’ve reached a high ground and, when things get bad, I’ll only need to find it again and not wonder if it exists at all.

The thing I really want Belle to know with regard to this is that she should never feel guilty. Not even a little. When she feels that way she tends to close up, get quiet, and let it fester and then it blows all out of proportion. I want her to know she can manage our sex lives in any way she wants. That I really want her feel the freedom to do or not do anything. I will be OK.

And if I’m ever acting like I’m not OK, please remind me of this post and tell me I’m just being a spoiled brat.

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Travel wear

It occurs to me that I’ll be travelling at the end of October. Those of you keeping score at home realize that the end of October would be a little over half way through the three month program Belle placed me on the other day. Everyone else with even a passing understanding of me and my horny rabbit brain knows I can’t be trusted to keep my hands off the meat, especially after six or seven weeks…alone…in a hotel room. Oh, god yes. That would be fantastic…

So, yeah, I will need to be secured. And the Steelheart can’t fly. I’ve been trying to figure out ways of travelling with it, but they all require me having a key since Belle won’t be with me. If I have the key and am expected to take it off prior to x-ray and such, then I might as well leave it at home. I’m a good rabbit, but still just a dumb bunny. The temptation would be too great.

I suppose I could always break out the old CB-6000, but Belle seems to have retired it permanently. This is based on aesthetics more than anything else and, as I said, she won’t be with me, so maybe she’d be OK with me wearing it. The stainless-looking model is off the table since, as I’ve pointed out, it’s very rough on the cock and I’m not even sure the chrome finish wouldn’t trigger the metal detector anyway.

The other option is a new device. Travel wear, as it were. Something for those times when the full metal jacket is not practical. Given a choice between using something old or buying something new, I tend to lean towards the new stuff. And that’s lead me to the PA-5000. I’ve read several reviews so I know it’s not perfect, but all I really need is a physical barrier sufficient to making jacking off difficult. I need a deterrent.

I’ve been very curious about the PA5K since it came out. I have no idea what it will feel like. Chastity has always been equal parts cock and ball constriction. Now, it will just be the cock. Also, large portions of it will be open to sensation. Very different than the Steelheart which sometimes feels like a sensory depravation chamber.

I think I measured it right. The tube come in three sizes and they recommend a quarter inch larger than your flaccid state. I measured this quite a while back and I’m about 34mm (about 1.33″) in diameter when soft, but the largest tube they sell has a diameter of 31.75mm (1.25″). When hard, I’m 40mm (about 1.57″) in diameter, so the tube will definitely be snug. I am not accustomed to ever wearing the largest of anything on the cock, so I guess we’ll just see how it goes. The funny thing about penises is they’re highly variable little hunks of meat. I’m sure it will work out. Expect a full report as soon as Belle lets me wear it.

On other fronts, I’m starting just my sixth day of lock-up after being in for two months. I can say that, right now, I’m way hornier at six days than I was at six weeks. Funny how that works. Belle (and everyone in the house) went to bed kind of early last night leaving me wide-eyed and restless. I eventually picked up my phone and started reading stories on the Kristen Archives (the porn site for every perversion). Hours later, I finally put the phone down, exhausted, only to fall into a very restless sleep.

I’ve said before that I don’t often get blue balls, but I had them last night and right up until this morning. Yeah, part of the ache was caused by the ring and the near constant erection I had all night, but it was way worse than usual. They felt much more swollen and tender. There was definitely a big load of something backing up in there. Every time I’d turn over, the device would flop heavily from one side to the other taking my fat balls with it. I couldn’t find a comfortable position and each time I moved to a new one it’d get another wave of achy ball pain.

I was awake way before Belle and, as soon as I figured out she was up, too, I was all over her. It’s that non-specific sexual urge feeling where I just want to squeeze her into a ball and grind my steel tube into her. I was breathing hard and kissing her mouth and trying my best not to bite her face when she said, “Why don’t you put that energy into making my coffee?”

“Anything, Belle Fille. Anything you want,” I said breathily, “It’s all for you.”