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Pillow talk

Belle and I had one of those checking-in moments the other night. She knows how desperate I am right now and wanted to make sure I wasn’t going off the rails. Usually, this starts by her asking me how I’m doing and me answering in a non-verbal grunt and shrug kind of thing. This from the guy who always says communication is so important in our kind of relationship.

She teased more out of me (so to speak). I told her I was fine. Not GREAT. Just fine. I told her how horny I was and she once again reminded me that I had only been locked up for a week. A mere flicker of a butterfly’s eyelid for me. Do butterflies have eyelids? It matters not. You get the gist.

I may have asked how long she meant to keep me in. Usually, it’s fairly easy for me to see the milestones upon which I get out. I can’t see one of those before mid-July at this point. She told me she was thinking of letting me out for Father’s Day. Honestly, I had forgotten all about Father’s Day. If I hadn’t, I might have dismissed it since it was relatively so soon after Memorial Day (about three weeks). It’s not always easy to know what “getting out” means. Do I also get to come? Or is it just freedom?

In my somewhat needy and totally horned-out condition, I admitted I didn’t want out. I didn’t want the device off and I didn’t want to come. OK, accuse me of bottom topping. Go ahead. I’ll wait…

Humming…

But it’s true. Yeah, my body is saying it wants out and wants to come, but my soul wants to stay in and be denied the pleasure. Even on Father’s Day. Especially on Father’s Day. The denial is so much more potent when it happens even when a reasonable person would expect otherwise. It’s best when it’s capricious and unfair and in no way respectful of what’s “right”.

What I want more than anything else is her. Not the porn, not the stories, not anything but her. To feel her writhe at my touch and hear her breathe fast and ragged before she finally tenses up in orgasm. That’s what I want. Not freedom. Not access. Certainly not orgasm. I have that feeling in my loins of a swollen prostate and I clutch and claw at the steel tube desperately wanting to get at its contents and I end up grinding into the mattress and being too distracted to sleep, but I also don’t want it to stop. Not ever.

I can’t tell if after all this time she’s thinking about letting me out because it’s what she wants or if it’s what she thinks I want. We seem to be past the point of her showing any kind of interest in the penis as a sexual object , though I supposed she might still want to feel it inside her. Maybe even wants to see it flopping around in the air. I don’t know. We kinda fell asleep after all that (which is to say, she fell asleep and I laid there soaking in my swirling hormonal caffeine).

Yesterday, I was grumpy at the end of the day. More annoying life stuff that I had misinterpreted or forgotten about or whatever. We were snappish at each other. Not sure how much of that was the hormones talking. It does manifest that way sometimes. I desperately wanted to defuse the situation so, when she came to bed, I offered to rub her feet with the lotion. I had hoped it would end in sex, but it didn’t. Just her feeling really nice (which is good, too). I again failed to fall asleep before 2:00. Still too wound up.

Belle leaves in a few days for a trip with some girlfriends. Yes, the kind of trip where in the porn stories the wife tells her friends about her husband’s locked penis. Just the girls and some wine in a quaint setting. I hope to be able to get her off before she leaves. If not, I’ll makes sure her favorite vibrator makes its way into her suitcase. If she’s going to be so relaxed anyway, it’s better for me to know she’s able to take advantage of the opportunity. Even if I don’t get to participate.

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Finding myself

So I’m tending the porn farm and come across this (obviously, that’s a NSFW link there). And I’m thinking, Daaaaamn. That’s fucking hot. Then I think, Wait a minute. Is that…?

Turns out, I had seen that picture before. Right here. It’s me in the Jail Bird. As a guy who puts dirty pictures of himself on the internet, I do, from time to time, find those pictures regurgitated by others on the endless pornographic rotisserie that is Tumblr (usually this one, though). It’s to be expected. I’m not in any way disturbed by it (though a simple shout out of where it came from would be nice).

The thing I find funny about this is that I didn’t even recognize myself at first. And to be honest, the thing that tipped me off that it was me wasn’t the penis or the device, it was my hand in the background. Then I noticed the way the hair was clipped and how the nuts hung and it all clicked. I didn’t remember the photo since it wasn’t HNT or anything, just a quick pic demonstrating how the JB makes the penis shift into its off-center cage.

Speaking of the Jail Bird, I do admit to liking how that cage looks. There’s something about being able to see the penis behind bars (and then pushing out between the spaces in them) that really flips my switch. Alas, the JB’s A-ring post is broken (and the ring was always a bit too small anyway) so it’s not available to me. I asked Belle if I could send it back to be fixed but she prefers the Steelheart. The fact that it’s almost the exact opposite in the way it totally hides the penis. Out of sight. Gone. She doesn’t seem to like seeing it anymore. I guess that’s how it should be. How I want it. But still, I’d like to wear a real cage every now and again.

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Oglaf

I have just discovered Oglaf.com, a humorous online sex comic (I was going to say “erotic”, but it’s too funny to use a word that serious on it). It is fantastic. How could you have kept it from me for so long!?

Here’s a taste for the uninitiated…

Cumsprites! How do you not love that?! Go ahead. Keep reading.

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Twice is not enough

Memorial Day weekend came and so did I. Twice.

Belle didn’t let me out of the Steelheard until the morning after we arrived (Saturday), but after having me get her off with my mouth and fingers (no penis, again), she let me fuck her until I came. It was one of those super intense orgasms that you get after an extended denial that wasn’t bad but wasn’t exactly good, either. Somehow anticlimactic. By 3:00 that afternoon I wanted to go again but I had to wait until the next morning when she let me fuck her once more (but with her top on). That one was all about me (which I’m not a huge fan of) but it was a better orgasm.

Usually, twice in quick succession like that would spend me for a while. Monday, though, Belle wanted me back in (all of 48 hours out) and by the time we got home that night I was as horny as if it never happened. So horny, in fact, that it almost became a chastity-induced night of no sleep. As it was, I only slept for about three hours. That made the trainer especially fun the next morning.

She let me get her off again this morning. I was up on my hands and knees rubbing my face against her breasts while she reached under and gently caressed my balls. The steel tube pressurized completely while my fingers found her wet snatch. It was all over far too quickly. She held my hand against her, my finger curled up toward her G spot, and she came intensely yet quietly. After a respectable amount of basking time for her, I grabbed her and held on, pressing the tight tube into her. Fuuuuuck, I’m horny.

“You haven’t even been in there a week, Thumper.”

Whimper.

I know that, of course, but tell it to my body. I can’t remember ever having two orgasms leave me essentially where I was before they happened like this.

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Clinically punching the little fucker

I’m home from my trip, but still technically on vacation so, in combination with needing to wait around for a guy to fix our washer (hoping, of course, he’d be hot, though I was sorely disappointed) I decided to stay home yesterday. After the non-hot appliance repairman had gone, my thoughts turned to my predicament. Of course, the desire to get off was strong but my ability to do so was nonexistent, so I made due. Perusing my options, my eyes landed on the njoy Pure wand. I love both my njoy toys, the Pure Plug 2.0 and this wand.

It’s been a little while since I got the Pure wand wet so I had forgotten how gobsmackingly good it is at tickling a prostrate. And by “tickling” I mean “punching the little fucker out”. I got warned up with this nifty little inflatable butt plug I got a while back. Not sure I’ve ever mentioned it here, but it’s exactly the thing you want for that filled up feeling. Totally deflated, its circumference is 4.6″. At three pumps of its bulb, that stretches to 6.25″. Six pumps is 7.75″. I only measured it to eight pumps (8.75″) so I can’t tell you how big it was after 12 pumps, but that’s how many times I pumped it. I pumped it up, thought, “Oh my fucking god,” then let all the air up only to pump it up once or twice more the next time around. Unsurprisingly, that pressure against my prostrate squeezed out a fair slug of goo.

Once I had my fill of that (literally), I got the wand. I decided to well and truly try to milk myself. For the uninformed, “milking” is what it’s called when one massages one’s prostrate sufficiently to cause seminal fluid to express without ejaculation. Some people (like Belle) worry about that fluid staying in the body for too long (though the science on this is sketchy) so prostate massage is a good way to get it out absent the spasms of orgasm. I’ve been somewhat successful with it in the past, but I’ve read accounts of the stuff just pouring out and I want to experience that myself. After riding the wand for a bit, I decided to get clinical (what I won’t do for my readers). I grabbed a small bowl for catching goo and set a timer on my iPhone for 10 minutes. I decided I’d use the wand to stimulate my prostrate constantly until the timer went off and see how productive that was.

For the first five minutes or so, it was just precum. Quite a bit, to be fair, but it was just the clear salty stuff. After that, though, I felt the most amazing sensation. Almost like needing to pee, but not exactly like that. I had to close my eyes and my breath came quickly and caught in my throat at the intensity of it all. The feeling built and then crested causing me to push down as if I was trying to urinate an then flexed the penis. A long, thick slug of creamy semen leaked out of the end of the tube. That’s milking.

These intense waves of sensation came and went, always depositing a new slug of seed into the bowl. After the timer went off, I decided I wasn’t half done and reset it back to ten minutes. The productive period of milking started about five minutes in and lasted for about ten minutes. After that, it felt good (if too good can still be called good), but there didn’t seem to be much left in me. All told, I’d guess there was about two tablespoons of fluid in the bowl, about half creamy and half clear (of course, it didn’t go to waste). I read somewhere once that in some men, the milked fluid expresses internally into the urinary tract and not down the urethra. I peed when finished and noticed that it ran thickly at first, so some of it did apparently go the other direction.

After that, I put the Pure Plug 2.0 in and left it as I showered and left to run some errands. It’s a fantastically comfortable plug with its only downside being the oval handle with has some severe edges. Even so, it can be in there for a long time, if you want it to be. Feeling its incredible heft shift and push against my abused prostrate as I walked and moved at first was amazing but eventually started to be too much for me to take. I got home a few hours later and removed it with a pop. No extra leakage, of course, since I was already well drained.

Today, I can feel the prostate sitting in there brooding over its abuse. Regardless, I am temped to see if I can coax any more juice out of it.

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Mailbag

Reader Aaron says…

I’ve been curious about being locked in chastity since adolescence (a complex mix of exposure beginning with a scene from “Robin Hood: men in tights” and some 3 am secret research using Encarta 95 while my family was asleep).

Needless to say, I belong in chastity.

First off, I need to see Men in Tights again, apparently. Second, Encarta 95!? Imagine if you had the whole web back then. Oh, the places you’d go. The things you’d see. Thirdly, I too can find the seeds of my chastity kink going way back. My mom used to get her pantyhose in those plastic eggs (remember those? L’eggs?) and I would take the small half of the egg shell and shove all my junk up into it, then press it against my body while the penis would try to get hard. I remember thinking how much better it would be if the plastic egg half would stay there all by itself. Then, later in life, I used to wrap the penis and my balls in a thin chrome chain and revel in the feeling of constriction. Even though I didn’t know what a male chastity device was until just a few years ago, I obviously liked the concept of being confined well before then.

Here’s my dilemma though: My boyfriend picked up a cb6000 with the intent of keeping me locked up. Now i understand that chastity isn’t supposed to be comfortable, but this device is impossible for me to wear. Aside from being awkward (it didn’t stay close to my body, but rather hung down exposing half my flaccid cock) it just didn’t fit. I’m not huge, but i have girth and it’s thicker at the base then the tip. I was barely able to stuff my junk inside the cylinder, and after crafting a makeshift rope harness to keep it on and wearing it out for a few hours, we returned home to find that the air vents had left abrasions on my shaft (which was bulging out of them) and the head of my cock was getting dark purple from poor circulation.

Again, I know that chastity does involve a certain amount of discomfort, but this is hazardous.

Do you have any advise on which devices are easier to use for thicker cocks? I eventually want to get a steelheart like yours, but felt that i should test the waters and find out the perfect fit with a less expensive device.

To me, it sounds like you’re on the outside of the “one size fits all” range the CB6K is designed for. You say it hangs too low and that’s a function of the size of the A-ring and perhaps the length of the spacers, but it definitely should NOT be leaving abrasions from the thickness of your penis while flaccid and purple is definitely not good. I can’t image what it must be like for you when it’s hard.

I think your best bet is a custom device. Unfortunately, that means spending more out of the gate, but clearly your size and shape aren’t working in the CB6K. You could try the Curve device from A.L. Enterprises, but from what I hear, it’s more for guys who are longer when flaccid, not thicker, and it’s much more difficult to hide under clothing. What I’d do is measure yourself well — flaccid length, girth at base, girth at tip, circumference of both your cock and balls together, when you’re “normally” flaccid, not too much and too shrinky-dink — then work with a custom manufacturer like Steelworxx or Mature Metal. Either of them could set you up well, though MM doesn’t have any styles like the Steelheart.

Finally, I’ll say that I find both the name “Aaron” and the idea of guy on guy chastity very hot. Please let me know how things work out. (And pictures are always appreciated.)

EDITED to add this clip from Robin Hood: Men in Tights

[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QUtdKm6lERQ]

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Aaaand, we’re back.

Got back from my trip early. I wasn’t sure I could take that long in the wilderness (I was an hour from the nearest highway) two weeks was too ambitious. Maybe next time.

As expected, my privacy was very limited. There were several of us sharing a remote cabin, so I didn’t even have the luxury of a tent wall. We did have one of those pop-up camp showers, but even then it was just a tall tent with a door that threatened to flap open in a stiff breeze. Except for the random morning squeeze in my sleeping bag, I left the penis alone while there. I did have two hotel nights on each end and that first night was incredible. I was as close to the edge I could possible be. There were times when the slightest touch would have set it off. My friend (the one who knows) was surprised that I could masturbate without orgasm. As if it was impossible. Fact is, that’s pretty much the only way I do it now. The best possible outcome would be to feel as I did that night. With the penis all hard and quivering and slimy with its own leakage, my balls all tight and swollen and ready to pump…but nothing else. No actual relief. In any event, my ability now to slice the space between stimulation and completion into smaller and smaller units is, when I really concentrate, pretty amazing. Ironic that being denied orgasm puts you so much more in touch with how it happens.

On the way back, though, I barely touched it. Something about getting closer to home and likely lock-up and Belle’s control made it seem less appealing. First thing I did when getting to my room was to strip down since I do so love being naked and there were no opportunities to be that way on the trip, but that didn’t lead to the orgy of self abuse I had on the first night. Sometimes, I even had a hard time keeping it up.

Upon my return, it didn’t take Belle too long to tell me she wanted the penis back in its home. She said I might get a “holiday squirt” this weekend, but not with any certainty. I locked myself up yesterday as soon as I was done with the trainer. She patted my crotch when she got home and told me I was a good boy for making myself the way she prefers me to be. She likes that she doesn’t have to tell me to lock up, only that she wants me that way, and I do it willingly. After ten days, I admit to wanting it as much as she did.

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My friend’s reaction

Text exchange with my friend:

Her: I don’t want to distract you from getting things ready for your trip, but remind me to share my physical reaction to your post today.

Me: Oh, I need to hear that.

Her: Yup.

Me: You tell me when. I’m all ears.

Her: Yes, when I can speak freely. But I will still be embarrassed.

Me: You’ve seen my blog (and probably a lot more by now) and *you’ll* be embarrassed? Call me when you can.

Her: OK

She was even too embarrassed to write the words, but apparently my last post made her very…um…well…to put this delicately…soaking wet. Surprisingly, to her, since she’s not one to look at porn and hasn’t ever read any erotica. She says her fantasies tend to be about her, not others, so she was quite taken aback when reading about the experiences of other people had that affect on her. She wanted to know what it meant.

Well, I said, it means my post was fucking hot. That’s about it. I won’t try to analyze the fact that her intense reaction was to an account of female domination. There’s just not enough data (as in, she hasn’t read enough smut) to know if it was just the hotness of the action at work or the specific events and power dynamic therein, but as a writer, to hear that someone had that reaction to my words is what it’s all about.

Thing is, I’ve read pornographic stories in the past that suddenly turned down a corner I didn’t expect and had themes that, on their surface, I would rather not read about. Sometimes I stop reading because it’s not my thing and other times I keep reading because, like it or not, I’m incredibly aroused. You cannot control what your brain gets off on. I don’t think my friend is having any kind of crisis of conscience at getting turned on by something she didn’t expect to reach her most intimate places, but it was pretty funny hearing about it. I say enjoy the ride.

Again, for me, it’s a compliment. There is no better compliment I could get, in fact. For her, well, who knows. I told her to keep reading because there are many such accounts on the blog. If I had time to round up some of the better ones, I’d do it, but I’m just about to leave on my trip, so I can’t. There’s only 696 posts on the blog. It’s Saturday. What else is she going to do? Besides change her underwear every half hour, I mean.