Tag: CB-6000

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Did I mention I was horny?

Good god, it’s been a little stuffy around here lately! Isn’t this supposed to be a sex blog?! So get on with the sex, already!

Well, we did have sex just one lonesome time this week. It was nothing I haven’t described here before (you know the drill: she abuses me a little, I make her come, we go to sleep). I continue to be amazed at how my entire being has adjusted to not having orgasms. She gets me all worked up with the biting and scratching and the general abuse and all I want to do in return is give her pleasure. Once she’s had her orgasm, I get all sleepy and a form of contentedness envelopes me. Yes, I’m still horny. Horny as hell. Twenty-four hours a fucking day I’m horny. The carnivorous butterflies have returned and I find myself clawing at the device, desperate to get my hand around an honest-to-god hard-on, but all that’s separate now from our sex. When we have sex, it’s all about her. Whatever she gives me during those times is gravy. The main course his her ecstasy. I derive satisfaction from hers.

Speaking of the device, it’s been sixteen days. She mentioned to me yesterday that she thought she was going to let me out the day before, but after a few minutes, decided not to. Just because. Just because she could. Still no indication of when my incarceration might end. I’m doing my best not to ask, but jesus am I getting claustrophobic in this thing.

It may be my best friend at the moment, though. She’s told me that I won’t have any pleasurable orgasms in March, and that’s just a week old. Did I mention I was horny? Fucking god, I’m horny. All that clawing at the device is probably a pretty good indication that, once granted access to that particular thing attached to my body, I’d be somewhat preoccupied with it. According to the Covenant, I’m not supposed to use it in a way that gives me pleasure without her approval. So, assuming I wouldn’t get that, maybe the best place for it is exactly where it is at the moment. I have will power, but no man’s perfect.

And, finally, to complicate everything and potentially cause problems with our weekend fun, Belle’s come down with something. Her throat hurts and she feels crappy. I’m pumping her full of zinc with the hopes she’ll feel better later. If not, it’ll continue to be quiet on the sex front.

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I’m fat

No, I’m not. But I feel fat. I am on the fatter side of what’s acceptable for me. I’m in the far suburbs of Fatsville. I can see the glow of it on the horizon. I am unhappy about that.

I’m six feet tall and weigh something like 215 pounds. If you saw me, you wouldn’t think I was too bad, but I’d much, much rather be at least 25 pounds lighter. Why am I telling you this? Because now it’s out there. I have to do something about it. I mean, I tell you guys everything, right? I can’t just pretend I’m a Brad Pitt look-alike and tell you all about how the wax splatters on my hard, rippling abs now, can I? Nope. I’m telling you because by doing so I’m keeping myself honest. It’s out there. I am going to lose 25 pounds.

OK, that’s out of the way.

I have been wearing the CB-6000 since the 19th of February. Twelve days. I’m pretty sure my record is thirteen, so yay for me. The thing is, the device is unbelievably comfortable now. It hasn’t woken me up in days. In fact, it feels so normal and natural that it’s starting to feel like an extension of me. I’ve totally adapted it to my life. Yes, it’s still a bit of a pain depending on what clothes I’m wearing, but there’s nothing I used to do that I can’t still do except pee standing up. Oh, and beat-off. Oh, and fuck. But besides that, the poly and I are living very well together at the moment.

So of course, it’s time to screw it up! I’ve been on the fence regarding what ring size to wear and have been in the 1.875″ ring this time around. My comfort is getting so ridiculously high that I’ve decided to finish this stint in the 1.75″ ring. Why? It’s not a lot more secure than the 1.875″ ring. It won’t be more comfortable (at least at first). I guess the best answer I have is the same mountain climbers use: because it’s there. Stay tuned for whiny missives on sleeping issues.

Belle and I tried to ruin my orgasm on Sunday morning so I could fuck her better with her cock. It all started OK, but she decided she wanted me to work on her a while before we got to me. Mistake number one. My Belle’s orgasms are not unlike freight trains. Once they get going, it’s hard to stop them or change tracks. In this case, I started working on her with my fingers. Once she was on her way, she decided I wasn’t going to stop. She wanted to come. But, she wanted me to make her come with my mouth. Super! But, after it was all said and done, the starting and stopping and thinking about it left her with a fair to middling orgasm. Not nearly as good as it could have been. Plus, there was the little issue of me, out of the device for the duration. She wanted to know if I could ruin an orgasm by fucking her. I thought I could, but really, why? She already had her go. I was just the redundant horny guy in the room who needed to put the plastic back on. Nope, she wanted me to ruin an orgasm inside her. Okey-doke, I’m on it.

Since I had such a focused purpose, hadn’t come in ten days, and knew she had already had her O, it took a remarkably short time for me to get to the place where I could spurt. I started to come, but never stopped fucking her. It was intense. The sensation coming off my head of the cock was almost off the charts, and not in a good way. I kept on going until the little soldier plopped out, all squishy and soft. I was panting and tired, but did not feel as though I came. One orgasm, perfectly ruined.

Lessons learned:

  • If she wants the cock to make her come, we need to deal with the ruined orgasm prior to touching her.
  • I would have been left with a higher level of frustration if, after the ruined O, I had to get hard again and fuck her to her orgasm.
  • I think not getting aroused again did leave me slightly less frustrated than before the ruined O. It wasn’t nearly as good as a real orgasm, but for the remainder of the day and most of the next, I could feel the difference. I got a lot of enjoyment from the quick fuck and we didn’t do anything to re-frustrate me afterward.

Of course, the other way to ruin an orgasm is to abandon it. Next time, I’d like us to experiment with that.

Reading this blog recently, you may get the idea that I don’t think we ever get anything right. Well, the past weekend was filled with mistakes and missed opportunity. That’s OK though. We need to figure this stuff out, right? Trying and failing is a far better prospect than not trying at all.

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Patented erection protection

I somehow ended up on “Mistress Lori’s World of Chastity” (AKA chastitytube.com, the site that sells Lori’s tubes), and noticed a nifty little thing I had not seen before. It appears to be a thin stainless rod bent in such a way as to fit under and down the tube of a CB-3000 or 6000 in order to hook into a PA ring. It’s ingenious. At first, I couldn’t imagine what would keep me from just slipping it off, but then I remembered, “Oh yeah, I have testicles.” Anyway, I’d love one of these little gizmos, but they’re selling them for $100. American. Seriously. Well, good luck with that, Lori.

The other thing that I found interesting was this little piece of text placed not once but twice on the page:

All of the piercing jewelry that you see on our pages are a patent or patent pending. The entire concept of securing piercing jewelry device by the means of any piercing is protected under one or more patents or patent rights belonging to either Lori Lancer or Lancer Enterprises.

Patent or copyright infringement will not be tolerated. 6/9/97

Wow. So all those guys on the web with expensive little bent wires meant to keep wieners stuffed down tubes aren’t just copycats but actual patent thieves?! I wandered over to Google’s patent search site and looked for “Lori Lancer”, “Lancer Enterprises”, and “male chastity piercing”. Nothing. Nada. I can’t find any patents on chastity security (though to be fair, I only looked for about three minutes and, as I’ve said, I’m not a lawyer). Not saying Lori’s site is lying, but I couldn’t find anything.

In my searching, I did find an interesting little nugget: A. Frank Miller’s CB-6000 patent. I’m guessing that by the time the 6000 came out, there was enough cash flowing in from the business that patent protection made sense for them. In any event, it’s kinda cool to see the thing that brings me so much frustration described in detailed legalese.

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The third dimension of denial

My brain is fucking with me. It keeps firing off the little signals that, in the past, would precipitate a masturbation session. “Hey, wouldn’t it feel nice to jerk off? Let’s go have an orgasm!” And I, being a dense male, say, “Sure, sounds great!” followed half a second later with, “D’OH!” Ever show a dog a ball and make like you’re tossing it but really don’t? Know how the dog runs after the ball anyway? That’s me whenever my brains tells me to beat off.

I was getting kind of down this week. The last time I was able to touch Belle was on Saturday. Sunday she wasn’t interested (and we stayed up late watching the Oscars), Monday she was tired from staying up late on Sunday, Tuesday she was at a work thing, got home late and was just not in the mood, and Wednesday I was out late at a work thing. Four solid days where I never even touched my wife in a sexual way, let alone got to lick her nipples or nuzzle into her pussy. I asked her Wednesday before I left for my thing if she liked not letting me grope or otherwise come on to her. Because, of course, as a servile husband, if she likes what I don’t, it works, but if she doesn’t like what I don’t like, it’s poison.

Turns out, yeah, she does like controlling when I touch her. In fact, the conversation led her to ask me just how badly I wanted to touch her. Was I feeling deprived? I said yes, I was, and then let tumble out how much I wanted to put my hands on her and exactly what I wanted to do with my hands…along with other parts of my body. She gently reprimanded me and said that’s not what she asked. I revised and simplified my answer. Yes, I felt deprived. That’s good, she said, because that was how it needed to be. And that made it all OK.

Finally, last night, the stars aligned. We were in bed, she was in the mood, and the atmosphere (candles, iPod, etc.) was all set. But, she still wouldn’t let me touch her. I had to lay there for 15 minutes just talking. When she decided it was time, I felt like a trained Doberman being told to attack. She likes it gentle, though, and I did my best to restrain myself. Nothing for me, of course. She barely touched me. Her orgasm, though, was remarkable.

I was taken aback at how it felt to finally touch her breasts, to have my hand between her legs, her nipple in my mouth. The wave of relief that went through me was palpable. So you can add this extra dimension of denial to my collection. No orgasms, no stimulation of the cock, no sexual contact at all with my wife’s body. She controls all those things now. All I have left is what happens in my imagination. And that, absent any path to physical sensation or relief, increases the density of her control over me and sends my frustration into the clouds. I’m very happy to be wearing the CB6K as not having it would severely test my will.

Speaking of the device, I had to take the KSD-G3 off the other day. I use the one wil the shallowest rib more to keep the cock positioned well than for security, but the other morning I woke up with the acute sensation of it biting into the top of the shaft. Sure enough, there was an angry red line where it had made contact with the skin. This is not unusual, but the intensity of the bite that morning was atypical. No idea why.

The past few days have had me in grown-up clothes (dress pants) which have necessitated me wearing my most stealthy underwear. I have several pairs of tight, low-cut briefs that push the plastic down between my legs and back into my pelvis. This is very effective at hiding the package, but when combined with lots of sitting (four hour meeting yesterday, for example), it can leave me feeling pretty raw and sore. The ring, only on the right side for some reason, cuts into my flesh and that problematic spot behind the right post gets red and irritated. Luckily, today, I’m in some very forgiving boxer-briefs and am wearing my most baggy, chastity-friendly pants. Everything gets to swing a little more freely.

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Random tidbits

Just a couple of unrelated things…

First, I’ve been locked up again since last Thursday and have found it to be significantly more comfortable than previous stints. I’ve moved back to the 1.875″ ring (second largest) but down to the smallest spacer. Typically, I get some irritation from the backside of the right-hand post rubbing against the spot where my scrotum bunches up, but not this time. I figured the smaller spacer would make this worse, but in fact it’s entirely disappeared. For me, it’s usually taken a week or so in the device for things to settle down and feel good, but I seem to have skipped that part this time. Maybe it’s because I was just in for two weeks with only a week off in between? Dunno, but I’m not complaining.

Second, I received in the mail yesterday a 6g segment ring (like this one). I was hoping to be able to sneak it into my 8ga PA hole, but no dice. (In case you’re wondering, she let me out for a few minutes to try it out.) It’s really beautiful. Heavy, chunky. When I finally get it in, it’s going to be pretty hot.

I had to use needle-nose pliers to pop it open (wrapped in tissue so as not to scratch it), and getting it closed again was pretty hard. If the PA security cable didn’t bother me so much, this ring would provide absolute security for me. Oh well. Now I’m looking at stretching tapers and opening/closing tools.

Finally, Belle has started to expand her authority. Now, she calls what used to be our bed her bed. She’s allowing me to sleep with her in her bed, but I must sleep naked. Yes, I find this incredibly hot. She was dead tired last night, so we had a chance to talk a lot about that and other things. I told her that for the bed thing to work (and it’s surprising how quickly I felt I was in her bed once she started calling it that), I need to feel that I can’t take sleeping in it for granted. Some nights, she’s going to have to make me sleep elsewhere, either because of some displeasure I give her or just because. This might be tricky with two kids in the house, but we’re thinking about it. I didn’t say this to her, but I think it’d also be hot if  I wasn’t allowed in without her permission and only after demonstrating my subservience in some way. I should bring that up. In any event, I dig it and love that it was all her idea.

I feel as though the D/s aspect of our relationship is really starting to take root. Having the Covenant signed is a huge psychological hurdle, but I’m feeling more and more comfortable showing that part of me to Belle and she’s gaining confidence as she starts to get a feel for her role. I’ve never been happier. Now, if I can only remain patient and let it unfold at its own pace.

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Legal fig leaves

I noticed the other day the following at the bottom of all the pages on A.L. Enterprise’s website:

Disclaimer: All of our products are sold as novelty items only.
A. L. Enterprises, Inc. does not accept responsibility for any misuse or possible injury resulting in their use.

And then, yesterday, looking at the ExoBelt V1, I found this in the footer:

For obvious legal reasons we cannot recommend any ExoBelt product for use on the body or in any capacity as a medical device. It must be understood that some acts discussed or depicted on the ExoBelt website on in email correspondence may be medically unsafe or harmful and that the description and discussion of and such act(s) is intended as purely anecdotal or “fantasy” material. You choose to engage in any such act(s), discussed or depicted, entirely at your own risk.

I am not a lawyer, and it’s been well over a year since I stayed at a Holiday Inn Express, but these disclaimers seem to be absurd attempts to shield them from possible legal action from someone injured by their products. I’m not even sure what ExoBelt is trying to say. So using their product as they demonstrate with pictures may be unsafe so pretend we’re all talking about fantasy here and somehow it’ll all work out all right?

I’d much rather see these companies list out the possible side-effects of using their products along with how those side-effects can be avoided or corrected. Also (and I’m only familiar with the CB-6000 version of this), thorough usage guidelines included with the product would be very helpful.

I’m not saying they shouldn’t try to protect themselves against frivolous lawsuits, but it seems to me that pretending as though people aren’t using these things for exactly what they were designed to do is duplicitous in the extreme and shows a remarkable lack of respect or concern for their customers. For example, requiring purchasers to agree to a terms of use outlining risks and limiting the companies’ liability would be far preferable to saying after the fact that whatever happens to you is your own problem.

Instead of hiding behind stupid legal fig leaves, these companies should be investing in educational materials and usage guidelines. To do otherwise is remarkably irresponsible.

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Revised and expanded CB-6000 tips and tricks

I’ve finally finished a page I’ve been working on, off and on, for a while now. Back in December, I put together a couple of CB6K-related tips. Since then, that page has received a lot of traffic from Google, so I decided about a month ago to do it properly. The end result is the new, improved, and expanded CB-6000 Tips & Tricks.

Please feel free to add your perspective via the new page’s comments. I hope to be able to integrate the experiences of others as time goes on.

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The big pathetic mess of a post

I cleared my schedule so I could pick Belle up at the airport Thursday afternoon. It’d been three days since I had seen her and wanted some one-on-one time with her before the kids came home, etc. I was hoping for a little action but wasn’t positive I’d get any (nor did I expect to).

We unpacked from the trip and she was off doing something in the back of the house while I started writing the post of going gay. Eventually, I realized all the busy noises had ceased and that she was probably back there answering email, so I went back and nuzzled into leg while she clickity-clacked on the computer.

Even though I had been without orgasm for 19 days, I wasn’t feeling especially submissive. Hot and bothered, yes, but submissive no. It seemed as though the trip had drained all those feelings from me since we had basically zero personal time. Whatever it is that triggers that frame of mind within me, time from last emission isn’t the only factor.

In any event, I asked her if she wanted to mess up the bed a little. All the planets had aligned: I was unlocked and free, she was awake, and the kids were at school. She decided it was a good time and told me to get naked. After a little kissing, groping, etc., she said she wanted me to fuck her to orgasm. It may have been a shadow of insecurity that passed over my face, but I definitely wasn’t exude confidence. I’ve only been able to get her off that way without coming myself once this year. She had previously told me I wasn’t coming again in February (a goal I was completely committed to achieving), but I felt the odds of me being able to successfully restrain myself were low. Then, she dropped the bomb.

In fact, she did want me to come. She didn’t want me all worked up over not coming and she really wanted to get her orgasm from penetrative penile pounding. In retrospect, I should have stopped and talked this through. I was confused and a more than a little let-down that the previously stated goal of one month had been swept away so suddenly. Also, I should have pointed out that it wasn’t my concern that I couldn’t get her off with the cock, but that I couldn’t keep myself from erupting before she got her O. Seeing all this behind my eyes, she told me to suck it up and get going. This is what she wanted and she decides when I get to come, not me.

So I got to work. Again, in retrospect, I should have spent more time warming her up with my fingers before jumping right in (though in my defense, I was a little off balance with this surprise orgasm being sprung on me). With a minimum of foreplay, I climbed up and started to fuck her. It was my intention to resist my orgasm, even though she had given me permission. If by some small miracle, I got her off without coming, I was going to stop and see what she wanted me to do next. However, as expected, I lost control and came in a huge torrent. I fought it every step of the way until it happened. I maybe enjoyed three or four strokes, but kept right on going even as the head of my dick felt like it was going to implode from over stimulation. After a bit, she figured out what I was doing and told me to stop.

In short, I had failed. Again. I came (with permission) but had failed to give her the orgasm she wanted in the way she wanted it. Worse, once I stopped, my erection started to deflate rapidly so my ability to perform was basically nil. I felt terrible. Again, she told me to snap out of it and accept the fact that I did exactly what she wanted me to do, but all I could do was hide how I felt, not change it.

It’s pretty clear to me now that I’ve lost my ability to enjoy having a spontaneous orgasm. It seems I’m only able to enjoy those I know are coming and can prepare for. I’m not sure if she felt like she was doing me a favor by letting me come or if she really thought it would allow her to get what she wanted more easily, but in any event, I was left feeling stressed, unsatisfied, and ultimately a little depressed that I hadn’t achieved the one month goal. After scolding me to snap out of it, she told me to get Pink so I could finish her off. She had a pretty good ride at the end of the little vibe (at least, a really loud one).

Following this event and the last, I no longer think her goal for me of 12 orgasms in 2009 is achievable. She likes it best when I make her come with the cock. I can’t do that reliably. Desensitizing gel might help, but since it would require using a condom, I’ve never been able to find out since she hates them. And, she has thus far refused to let me experiment with a strap-on stand-in. She seems to have zero interest in that.

I feel as though our journey down this road of orgasm control has progressed so far that I really don’t ever want to go back. I can’t imagine coming every time we have sex. The weird and somewhat scary truth is, I’m not sure I even want to come. Or, more accurately, I don’t want to stop not coming. Does that make sense?

—

I wrote the above yesterday but didn’t get a chance to finish it before I talked to Belle last night. I told her what I told you – that I was unhappy with what happened on Thursday and that by saying so I wasn’t complaining or trying to assign blame or anything. It’s just what it was. She didn’t accept any blame and didn’t apologize for how it all went down (which is good – I wouldn’t have wanted her to). I told her I was worried about the 12 in ’09 goal and wasn’t sure it was achievable (at least not in a way that would allow her to experience pleasure in the way she preferred). She told me we’d figure it out. In the mean time, she’s not going to let me come until April. That’ll be a nice round 40 days from the last time I came to my next earliest opportunity.

While the prospect of not achieving orgasm for more than a month excites me, I’m still going to obsess over the fact that while she’s denying me orgasm, she’s also denying herself the pleasure of being fucked. I will continue to try as often as she’ll let me, though. I’m assuming that, with practice, I’ll get better at putting off my own climax. At least, I hope so.

Now to finish the post I started yesterday. She told me on the way home from the airport that she was going to lock me up that day. The usual mix of being excited and somewhat dissapointed that my freedom was about to end passed through me. If I had a choice, I would not have gone in, but it wasn’t my decision to make. Later that evening, I showered and trimmed and put on the device with the lock in place, but not closed since she likes to be the one to make it click. However, as I got out of the bathroom, I found her dead asleep. The long days had caught up with her. I closed the lock for her. Funny thing is, she didn’t even know I was in the thing for the first 24 hours. It wasn’t until last night that she found out I had put it on. I could have bought myself a whole extra day of freedom.

After our talk last night and her decision to keep me denied through March, I found the warm and fuzzy submissive veil fall over me. This active expression of her control combined with the physical restraint of the CB6K seemed to be enough to send me over the edge, even though I had just had an orgasm. In fact, it now seems as though orgasmic release isn’t a huge factor in how I feel with regard to being horny or submissive. There just aren’t enough of them and they’re not of high enough quality to absorb all the desire I carry around with me.

In rereading this, I realize this post has been all over the place and is probably too long. Why anyone would want to read me kvetch about all this is beyond me, but it’s nice to have a place where I can do it.

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Quick review: PA Security Cable

One of the reasons I got a Prince Albert piercing was because I wanted to make the CB-6000 more secure. I do not believe the device needs to be a lot more secure (for me, anyway) but the idea that it’s been made to be impossible to escape from is much hotter than knowing I could always slip out if I really and truly wanted to. (The other, and main, reason I got the PA is because I think it’s fucking hot to see stainless through the head of my dick. But that’s just me.)

The first step toward greater security is getting the hole made. Check. The second step is wearing a trapped-ball ring or other closed ring jewelry through the hole. Check. The third step is to acquire something like Kept For Her’s PA Security Cable. Triple check.

The cable, including shipping, costs ten dollars which hits the sweet spot of giving KFH an incredible amount of margin on each sale but not so much that you’d be bothered to go make something yourself. Ordering was a snap and they shipped and delivered it very quickly. The product itself is made from a short length of nylon-coated 1/16″ stainless steel cable with loops on each end affixed with brass ferrules. Very secure-feeling. The nylon coating makes the cable smooth to the touch and should, with wear, keep it from damaging the polycarbonate of the CB6K.

I got mine on Monday and immediately ran it though my ring and secured it in the lock. Here are some NSFW images (shot as demurely as possible so as to protect my delicate sensibilities) of the cable in action: through the lock, through the ring. Of course, the Achilles heel in this scheme is the ring. If you can push the ball out of the ring without tools, you can defeat the cable and, eventually, the entire device. KFH recommends a ball that’s too big to fit through the slot, which would enhance the security greatly. I can just get the ball out of my 8ga ring and it does fit through the slot, so I’d advise others to use 6ga or larger as those are more difficult to manipulate without tools and generally come with larger balls. I am planning on going to 6ga eventually (and maybe even 4ga), so I guess I’ll find out.

A bigger issue for me than my ring, though, was comfort. KFH says on their site, “This cable is totally comfortable to wear, you won’t even know it’s there.” I found that when my penis was extended and its head was up against the slot, their claim is true. However, my dick likes to move around in there and will sometimes retract about half way up the tube. When secured by the cable, this is impossible. It places a steady stress on the piercing which, at first, wasn’t too painful, but after 2.5 hours I found to be unbearable. This may be due to my hole not being fully healed (though I think it is). It may also be due to the jewelry being too thin at 8ga. I’ll try again at 6ga and see if there’s a difference.

Bottom line, based on my experience, I cannot reccomend the PA Security Cable. However, the concept of it is still incredibly hot and I would love to hear the experiences of those who have tried it and found it to be wearable.

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Dreamy

I forgot to lubricate the ring last night and I could really feel the difference this morning. At about 4:15 its bite woke me up. I relieved myself, which brought the, um, swelling down a bit – at least enough to be able to go back to sleep.

Then, I had this weird dream. I was in a strange, dimly lit house but all our stuff was in it, even the full length mirror upon which Belle hangs her key on its silver necklace. The whole family was there, except for Belle. Even in my dream, the device was hurting me, so I went looking for the key so I could move up to a bigger size (note, not to take it off, but to leave it on with a bigger ring). As I went into the bedroom where the mirror was, a little rabbit (I am not making this up) stopped me. Looking up at me with his big, Disney-esque eyes he said, “But what about my suffering?”

Apparently, I shrugged off the little rabbit, found the key, and turned my attention to the device. That’s when I found that the tube and KSD-G3 had fallen off in my hands, but the ring was still locked to my body (and I know that doesn’t make any sense). I fiddled with the little silver key and went to put it in the keyhole only to find my little chrome lock had been replaced with a big clear plastic one. Her key was useless. I couldn’t get out of the ever more painful device.

Like I said, weird.