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It lives!

Male Chastity Forum is back!

Kinda. The site was apparently hacked and has been resurrected, but without all the old accounts and posts, alas. For those who knew it in its previous life, you’ll remember it was a fairly sensible collection of people discussing the topic with a minimum of stupid pronoun capitalisation crap and hot pink CB-3000/French maid combos.

Not, of course, that there’s anything wrong with fucking with pronouns and wearing lacy stockings and pink plastic if that’s what you’re into. It’s just that I’m not and the other big forum site I’m aware of is massively overrun by people we are. So it’s hard for me to fit in there. It was so bad that I toyed with the idea of starting a forum myself specifically not for the excessively feminized (not, of course, that there’s anything wrong with them). I’ve got lots of experience managing a large forum, so I could have done it. But then again, I have lots of experience managing a large forum, so I also know it’s a thankless timesuck, so I decided to wait for MCF to come back.

One of the things I especially liked about MCF back in the day (before it was hacked or whatever) was the seemingly large number of gay device wearers who were there. Maybe that’s what kept the French maids out. Anyway, it was a great place and, hopefully, it will be one again. I encourage you to go check it out and, if you’re so inclined, create an account and add your two bits. Unless you’re wearing a device and a dress right now. In which case, there’s already a large and vibrant community out there for you (and you know where it is).

Not, of course, that there’s anything wrong with that…

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Push me, please

The other day Belle said she wasn’t sure what I meant when I said I wanted to be pushed. As in:

First and more importantly, I want to be pushed. Pushed in every regard. I want her to hurt me a little more than I can stand. I want to be denied past the point at which I beg for release. I want her to set high expectations with regard to my service. If there is a knob somewhere that turns to ten, she should set it to eleven. I want to do all these things because that’s what this particular submissive wants more than anything: To show his dominant partner that he can go farther than he thinks he can for her. And then, once I achieve that goal, I want to be pushed past it again. In everything. Always. Make me prove how badly I want this. Because while I may not enjoy the moment of any particular act, it will, in retrospect, fill me with warmth and happiness.

I tried to explain that there’s a desire within me to go far beyond my comfort zone if for no other reason than she’s asked me to do so. I pointed her to Maymay’s post related to this (is there anything he’s not written about?) and also sent her a couple of Sarah Jameson’s emails that, I think, touch indirectly on it.

Sarah Jameson, for those who don’t know, writes the Male Chastity Blog. She’s a “normal” woman, not unlike Belle, with a husband who likes abnormal things, not unlike me. She writes with confidence and, while I don’t always agree with her, find that she’s right far more often that not (at least IMO). Besides the blog, she also sends out a multi-part email newsletter on the subject of…wait for it…male chastity. Why an email, I can’t tell. If it were me I’d put it all on my blog and not make people wait for it all, but whatever. I recommend it, especially for those just starting out.

So anyway, in part 11 of her series, she asks, “Just how long can a man wait?” Her initial response sends an electric shiver down my spine:

Well, the truth is… your man doesn’t have to orgasm ever. As in NEVER.

But then she give what I think is the best advice I’ve read on the subject:

Over time I’ve come round to the way of thinking that you should keep your man in orgasm denial for at least 50% longer than he asks for and thinks he can stand.

Why?

Because in the early days, while you’re still working out the ground rules, he’ll be basing his own estimation on insufficient knowledge. To HIM, fresh into male chastity, even a week seems like an eternity.

So if he thinks a month, make it six weeks; if he thinks six months, make it nine months; and if he thinks a year… woe betide him.

This is nothing to do with domination – this is to do with playing the game he’s asked to play and keeping HIM within the rules.

I don’t agree, however, that is doesn’t have anything to do with domination. I think it does, at least for me, because it certainly has something to do with submission. My submission has no value if it entails only that which I am willing to do on my own. It only gains value, to me, when it crosses out of my fantasy bubble and starts to make me squirm. It would become zen-like to be taken far out of my zone – to be made to truly suffer – for the benefit of my top. Often, I feel as though Belle humors me and, as soon as I seem to become uncomfortable or inconvenienced or whatever, she’ll pull back. But that’s just when it’s getting good!

Her next message, conveniently enough, covers “what to do when he claims he can’t take it anymore.” This, I thought, was particularly insightful:

He WANTS to orgasm as a fleeting thing; but he CRAVES denial long-term. It’s how it works with most men. And when they’re begging with their blue-balls, they really do mean it.

But if you don’t give in, he’ll thank you, I promise. Don’t feel sorry for him – he’s getting what he wants, and that’s more than most people in the world ever get.

Belle specifically asked me to explain this bit of ironic drama the other day and I couldn’t. Sarah doesn’t explain it, really, but she perfectly captures it. In the moment, there are times when I want the orgasm badly. Palpably. Like, life and death. But, what I want even more is for Belle to deny it to me, especially if I really, really, REALLY want it. See point number one above.

The next bit is also terrific advice:

I know from John [her husband] that feeling of wanting to come all the time is amazing for [men]. Yes, when you’re making love at that point it can get a bit uncomfortable, but it soon passes. Rather than feeling sorry for him, try empathy: share his feeling without taking responsibility for it or for making it better.

Yes, yes, yes. “Oh, poor baby, I know it’s hard…” Not guilt, not confusion, not sympathy. More like, “Look, fucker, you asked for this so you’re going to get it and, while I can empathize with your situation, there’s not a damn thing I’m going to do about it other than pour honey on your agony.” But, you know, nicer than that.

Or not, because, in fact, that would be a fucking hot way to put it…

Of course, I’m talking about more than just orgasm denial. I’d like her to require me to wear the device past the point I beg for it to be taken off. I want to provide any and all service to her (house, body, whatever she asks) past the point of comfort or convenience. I don’t want her to be a bitch or some über domme, just to set for me very high goals and expectations. To understand that when I’m in a place where most people would be unhappy (and even if, in that moment, I am unhappy), that I’m actually where I need to be.

I know this is hard for Belle to wrap her head around. It’s all very weird and alien and a million miles from how she’s wired to interact with the world (and her husband). I can’t expect her to understand why I am the way I am. I don’t understand that myself. But if she can figure out what all the buttons and levers do – how to leverage my kinks – I think we can use them in a way that will make both of us more satisfied.

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Woodsy

In about a week, I’m leaving for a 10 day camping trip. I only mention this because Belle had told me I would be left unlocked while I was gone since I’ll be with a group of folks who are otherwise unaware of my…condition. But then, night before last, she told me she wishes she could leave me locked. And honestly, I wish I could be, too.

The device and I are on pretty good terms at the moment. The first night she put me back in it, I was so excited that I didn’t fall asleep until 3:30. Last night, I fell asleep OK but woke up several times for the customary reasons. Eventually, I’ll sleep right through that stuff, but I’m still in adjustment mode. I’d feel the steel ring and tube containing the straining meat and a happy little ball would start bouncing around inside me and I’d be wide awake for a while until things settled down. Right now, the device, as a symbol of our dynamic, is on the right side of things. I’m happy so I love it. Wearing it because she wants me to makes me feel very good. She told me last night she liked my attitude better when I’m locked. A small thermonuclear detonation went off inside me to hear that. I know we’re back on the right track. I can feel it.

So anyway, I was thinking about what she said. She wished she could leave me locked up on my trip. And I think it’s possible. This won’t be like last year’s trip when I backpacked into the Rockies. This time, we’re going to be driving into Northern California. In fact, I’m driving all the way out there, so nasty TSA metal detectors aren’t a factor. Also, I’ll probably be sleeping in the bed of my truck (inside the camper shell – what, I don’t seem like the truck type?) so I’ll have a modicum of privacy. I can bring the soapy water I need with me (even though it will be verrrry cold) and take care of things out of sight and sound of the others.

That’s not to say there won’t be other inconveniences. I’ll need to make sure I’m properly shielded when answering the call of nature, for instance. And we’ll have to see how the Steelheart likes hiking around. But, as far as I can tell, it’s all perfectly doable. Remember the part about pushing me? This is a perfect example. She wants me locked. She shouldn’t really consider my inconvenience if that’s the way she wants things. That’s pushing.

Besides, worst case, I’ll still have my emergency key.

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Kept key

We’ve experimented with a couple different things with regard to giving me access to Belle’s key in such a way that it’s available in case of an unexpected situation, but not too available so that I can use it without her knowing. The newest and, I think, the best is the Steelworxx Key Safe.

Essentially, it’s a little steel tube with a notch cut into the top and a hole drilled through in the opposite direction. It’s custom made to fit the long keys of Steelworxx integrated locks, though I assume it would work with keys in a variety of sizes. The key slips into the notch and a numbered plastic single-use lock snaps though the holes and the key. Very simple and very effective. No combinations to deal with, no tape or stickers or anything else. The key goes in, the lock goes snap and you’re done. QED.

The only real downside to the thing is that it’s crazy expensive. When I first saw it, the euro was trading a lot higher to the dollar and the cost was simply too high. Currently, the two currencies are more equal and the price goes from unrealistic to simply unadvisable, considering what it is. I assume the costs are in the labor since it’s really just a smallish piece of metal bent and welded into a polished tube, then cut and drilled. I expect certain handy fellows could put one together for about $1.50. In any event, the final cost, including shipping, was €57.97 which converted to about $75 or so. That included a bunch of extra locks.

While it’s clearly not for the chastised bunny on a budget, the Steelworxx Key Safe is a simple, smart solution to a common problem. Highly recommended.

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Weekend sex

We did have some nice episodes this weekend and since it’s been so long since I wrote about the sex parts, I’ll relate them to you now…

On either Friday or Saturday, I went to bed highly expectational that something was going to happen. I was sporting the free meat so almost anything was possible. She told me to get naked and I snuggled up against her, nuzzling her tits through the fabric of her pajamas and running my hand over the outline of her mound. She lifted her top and I latched on to her nipples, licking and sucking each one in turn. My blood rose pretty quickly and the soft spot just under the high point of her crotch that told me I was on her clit. I pressed down with a circular motion. Just seconds later, she started to come. I could feel her heat and dampness through the fabric and flicked my tongue over erect nipple as her head went back and she whispered in breathy insistance, “I going to come.”

And she did. And it was really fucking hot. She said it made her feel like she was 16 again and we were fooling around in a car. It was all so rushed and determined. I was left feeling like the man of steel and, after allowing her time to bask a bit, I asked if I could enter her. She seemed to hesitate and I thought for a second she’d refuse, but she pulled off her bottoms and opened up for me.

This was the first time I fucked her with the new ring in and, more so than any other I have, I could feel its gravity move though the head of the cock and slide against the wet walls of her pussy. My PA piercing has  taught me there are nerve endings inside the cock as well and, that night, as I fucked her slowly and deliberately, trying to feel every centimeter of her sex slide against mine, all the little nerves were firing. I love that new ring sofuckingmuch.

In the hight of the passion, as the urge to speed up and spew reached its zenith, the fact that I was not allowed resonated in me like a struck bell. I felt suddenly and immensely grateful that I was with a partner willing to take on control of my release. I thanked her for accepting my cock and reiterated how right it felt that she decide when I come. As I was fucking her and as I was grappling with the rising, desperate need to ejaculate, I embraced with all my being her right to refuse me the pleasure. It was not going to happen.

I fell asleep pressing as much of me against as much of her as possible, hard, sticky cock between us.

The next night, or maybe the one after that, she abused me. She started off slow and gentle, just how I like, caressing every part of my desperate sex and stroking the cock until an orgasm was just beginning to bubble to life. Then she started slapping, lightly at first and then with more determination, my balls. Eventually, she was striking them with force and I was gasping for breath, drawing my knees up instinctively, and clutching at my aching sack. The pain would radiate for ten, twenty, thirty seconds or more before receding, then I’d slowly open my legs again. That’s the most delicious part. My higher brain, with its weird chemistry and crossed pleasure wires, fighting my lower reptile brainstem’s blind protective instinct. Each millimeter my legs moved apart was a minor internal battle. Then, she’d place her loose fist against my nuts, draw back, and strike them again.

This kind of pain is, for me, the beluga caviar of masochistic pleasure. Certainly an acquired taste, it’s also very intense. I couldn’t do it every night, but sitting here now, encased, reliving the unique radioactive agony…I want it again. A lot. I’m getting all dreamy just thinking about it.

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Reboot

I ended my last post (of any significance) from almost a month ago this way:

I desperately want to find myself back in the pre-London subspace. I don’t think one weekend can fix everything, but I hope it’s the beginning to the way out of the particular rough patch.

The weekend I was looking forward to and those that came after – until the one just past – did not see the situation improve. In fact, it got worse. So bad, in fact, that there were times I thought our 21 month experiment in power exchange was coming to an end. But it didn’t.

I don’t even know where to begin. To be honest, I have no desire to retell the past three plus weeks. Short story is, as I’ve been eluding to for a while, things just lost steam. I felt like Belle had started to take things for granted and wasn’t really exerting much effort to maintain my headspace. As if, once set upon my subbie trajectory, I’d just keep coasting indefinitely. My chastity started to feel like incarceration. My desire to server her evaporated. Finally, when we had sex, I shed any submissive or denied pretense. I fucked her like the old days and came. Then, when she told me it was time to get back into the device, I refused (politely). Clearly, the lowest point of our new D/s dynamic had been reached.

Then, sometime last week, we finally had The Talk. Even though unlocked, I had refrained from orgasm – too afraid really to let go of the last tattered shred of our arrangement. I was getting horny, though, and we were going to have to come to some agreement. We were either going to end this chapter of our sex life or we’d have to address the issues at hand.There was a lot of emotion and she cried and I felt like shit. We hadn’t really moved forward, but I felt like the barrier had been broken. Something was going to happen, just not that night. This past weekend, we talked some more. It was better this time. More constructive. Things are back on track. I still haven’t come, though she has, and I’m horny as hell and, maybe most importantly, she’s locked me back up and I’m OK with it.

While it may not be popular in some circles for me to say this, the fact is my submissive feelings need to be tended. The more she denies me and teases me and pushes me (more on that later), the more deeply I feel my submission. I have attached to myself this rabbit metaphor, so I’ll stick with. My subbie side is not unlike a rabbit in that it’s easily spooked and difficult to get out of its burrow, but once coaxed out, it can be tamed. Stop feeding the rabbit, and it’ll leave again. That’s how my submission works. That’s not how everybody’s works, but it’s how mine does.

So I suggested a few things. First and more importantly, I want to be pushed. Pushed in every regard. I want her to hurt me a little more than I can stand. I want to be denied past the point at which I beg for release. I want her to set high expectations with regard to my service. If there is a knob somewhere that turns to ten, she should set it to eleven. I want to do all these things because that’s what this particular submissive wants more than anything: To show his dominant partner that he can go farther than he thinks he can for her. And then, once I achieve that goal, I want to be pushed past it again. In everything. Always. Make me prove how badly I want this. Because while I may not enjoy the moment of any particular act, it will, in retrospect, fill me with warmth and happiness.

Second, not all of this needs to fall fully-formed from Belle’s imagination. She lives this role in a very lonely state. We hardly talk about her side of it and she has no peers to turn to. It’s all internalized and, when she starts to slip, it only builds and builds until she assumes she’s a failure at it. Then, instead of talking about it, she tends to lock up. Hard feelings on both sides get exacerbated. We spiral downward. Instead, I asked her to think of our dynamic like she would a superior/inferior relationship at work. She can’t possibly have all the answers all of the time. When she feels herself at an impasse, I’ve encouraged her to ask me for ideas. Just like at work, she’ll choose the one that feels right to her and I’ll go along with it. Also, I’ve encouraged her to come here and write about what she’s thinking or struggling with. I know there’s no end to the advice she’ll get from readers like you. In short, there is no need for her to shoulder her role all on her own. And I honestly do not expect her to always know which way to go next.

Finally, I poposed some guidelines with regard to sex. I think, on average, it’d be nice to have 2-3 sexual encounters a week. These can be fairly simple to more involved, but one every seven to ten days (especially when I’m locked up for weeks at a time) just won’t work for me. I’ll get depressed. The little subbie bunny will go back into his burrow. Neither of us want that.

Good god, look at the time. I started this post not just because it’s been a long time coming but also because being back in the device and back on the path to subdom left me distracted and sleepless. There’s much more I could say and what I have said I’m sure I could have said better, but now it’s time for sleep.

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A reader’s questions

A reader sent me an email chock full o’ questions and, since I can’t get motivated to write about anything else, I thought I’d reply to them here…

Have followed your postings for some time and really enjoy them.

Thanks. I enjoyed many of them myself.

Does Belle control your appearance and grooming…hair, body hair, nails etc.?  Does she ever groom you or tell you how she wants it done?  How are they kept?

Not any more than any other wife. She likes me to look a certain way, but it’s not always the way I want to look and also not always appropriate for work (don’t get carried away – she like me on the scruffy side, is all). I probably would modify my appearance for her if she asked me to.

Ever get into bondage or cock and ball torture?  How have you been tied or what have you had done to cock and balls?

If you’ve followed me for some time, you’ll know I’m very into CBT and bondage. I’m not always in the mood, but when I am (or when Belle pulls me into it), I like it a lot.

As far as what’s been done, Belle’s punched me in the nuts, applied Icy Hot to them, pinched and squeezed them, affixed clothespins in and around the area, and (while tied up) rested a bag of ice on the entire package. I have a fantasy of her really kicking or kneeing them, but have thus far not pushed it because I’m not sure where the line is. I have grown to really appreciate testicle pain (again, while in the right mood), but am afraid of actually damaging them.

Now that I think of it, I recall that, prior to being with Belle, my masturbatory habits included wrapping a light chain (dog leash) around my cock and balls in order to cause constriction. In what was probably a strong foreshadowing of my future kinks, I liked the sensation of binding and squeezing. At some point, I lost the chain and used other various objects such as boot laces.

Ever get tied, tortured or used by another guy?  Interested in that?

No, I haven’t. Interested? Well, sure, in the same way I’m interested in any guy at this point. I’m not going to be acting on my interests since the rules of my relationship don’t allow it, but I think the dynamic differences in being topped by a guy versus a woman would be fantastic to experience. Guys have the ability to penetrate in a way that’s very obviously dominating.

Do you find yourself more bi as you are in chastity without cuming longer?

I am not any more or less queer when in chastity, but I am metric tonnes more horny. I feel as though I’m a perfect Kinsey 3 in that I’m usually equally attracted to women  and men. My level of frustration doesn’t change the direction of my attractions, though it can make them much more intense.

Ever made to service other guys or women?

I’m up to anything, but Belle’s not interested in sharing, as far as I know.

Sure these seem like random questions…I appreciate your answering them.

No problem.

I’d like to learn more about you.

Obviously!

Chastity is a huge turn on to me.

Me, too.

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Belle free

Sometime, things just don’t work the way you think they should (or want them to).

A couple of examples. First, that nifty little keysafe thing I got to keep my emergency keys in. Yeah, well, that broke the first time Belle opened it. Quality. Then the penis plug I ordered showed up. Yeah, that ended up being too fat to fit up my urethra. And trust me, I tried. At least it’s a quality piece of stainless. If nothing else, it’ll look great dangling from my keyring next to the car keys.

Then there was Belle’s cock. It started to feel a little weird in the tube in that overly sensitive and irritated way it does after it’s been in for a while. In this case, it had been three weeks exactly. She let me take it off to inspect the hotdog and, while there were no visible signs of wear, she let it stay out for the day to recuperate. That night, she wanted it back in. Not only because she was about to leave town for a few days (and she never leaves me alone anymore with free meat) but also because she expects and prefers my default condition to be locked.

But I asked not to be. Truth is, I was kinda sorta miserable. I can be locked indefinitely and enjoy it, but absent any external stimulation, it starts to become monotonous. So, even though she was going to be gone, she agreed to leave me out as long as I didn’t go overboard with the jacking off to porn. And, of course, I wasn’t allowed to orgasm.

In the past couple of days, I did manage to fit in a significant amount of self abuse. I really enjoyed the edging and took myself to the brink innumerable times, but found, after a while, a little voice creeping in to my mind as I did it. It wasn’t exactly telling me I should go ahead and come, but it seemed to be trying to distract me at the very worst moment so I’d accidentally find myself all gooey. Make me miss half a beat until the moment of no return was passed. I didn’t come, but it seemed as though I was crossing the admittedly vague guidelines she left me with. Time to stop.

But, of course, I have terrible self-control. So, I decided to lock myself back up. I know it’s not the same as when she’s around since I know exactly where the key is, but the device is serving as my deterrent. Also, the edging – even though Belle wasn’t part of it – was just what I needed. I don’t need any more at the moment, though I really want it. Once I was back in the device I felt an odd sense of wholeness descend. Not like last time where it felt alien and intrusive. This time, being out felt out of sorts and being back in felt normal. The device has become my security blanket.

In any event, I look forward to the next few days very much. The kids are going to be out of the house for three nights and Belle and I are spending one of them in a lovely B&B we’ve gone to in the past. I really, really need to have sex with her, and more than once. I need, in the very bottom of my soul, to feel her come hard. I desperately want to find myself back in the pre-London subspace. I don’t think one weekend can fix everything, but I hope it’s the beginning to the way out of the particular rough patch.