Tag: CB-6000

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Crossing the Rubicon, Part 1

[I’ll be relating the events of our romantic weekend alone over three posts. Even so, I’m afraid this one got kind of long. I apologize in advance for asking to you to read through 1,370 words that don’t even get you past Saturday morning!]

We arrived at our secluded woodland retreat late Friday night. Belle had already informed me that I wasn’t going to get out until Saturday, so her refusal to release me as soon as we arrived was no surprise. What was a surprise (at least to me) was her acquiescence to my suggestion that we try out her new toy. Earlier that day, a discrete box had arrived containing a pretty, pink Onye “discrete massager”. The little vibe, which we’ve named Pink (because we’re creative that way), is surprisingly powerful. After working on her nipples for a few minutes to get the juices flowing, I started to rub the deactivated Pink over her clitoris to help her get used to its feel. My Belle has not been one to partake in sex toys (with the exception of a single use of the latex dildo I got her about a month ago and one very lucky banana in an overseas hotel room), so I wanted to take this new sensation slowly for her. I pushed Pink’s little pink button and she started to purr. Belle released a yelp and a startled little, “Oh!” After a few moments of surface stimulation, I was somewhat taken aback to hear her instruct me, which some insistence, to put Pink in her. I complied and a string of high volume exclamations followed. Then, not even 60 seconds after I turned Pink on, Belle had what I can only describe as a screaming orgasm. I had never seen her carry on in that manner. Truth be told, to a boy enduring a week of chastity, to see the physical manifestation of his sexual desire (and the very gatekeeper of his sexual satisfaction) come in under a minute through the directed use of technology was, to put it lightly, somewhat intimidating. I was very happy for Belle but also somewhat distressed to consider a future of extended lock-up where my unique contribution to her sex life was rendered not just inaccessible, but also redundant and entirely out-classed.

The next morning was one of the most amazing of my adult life. The preceding night was fitful, both from the extended build-up of precious fluid but also the knowledge that I might get the chance to release said fluid at daybreak. However, when dawn finally came, Belle was awake before I was. After padding around a bit and letting the dog out to do his business, she came in the bedroom, sat down in front of me on the bed, and, with my head bowed, put me in my collar. The carnivorous butterflies started flapping in earnest at this development. My collar, all by itself, puts me into a heavily submissive headspace. Combined with the ten days of denied sexual release, I suddenly found myself suckling her toes. Now, I do not have a foot fetish of any kind and have never, to the best of my recollection, sucked her toes. Nevertheless, here I was worshiping her feet. She did not instruct me to do so and I’m not even sure she recognized the significance of the act, but it was either an autonomic submissive response or the influence of reading countless malesub blogs and sex stories. In either event, I did not consciously decide to apply my mouth to her foot. I just did it. And it was sublime.

After a few minutes of slobbering on her foot, Belle told me to lay down on the bed. She sat at the head of the bed, with her back to the wall, and I laid with my feet next to her with my head pointing to the foot of the bed. She took the key to my cock and unlocked and removed the CB6K. My hand immediately and reflexively shot down to feel my released member. Belle just as quickly reminded me that I was not to touch her cock until she told me I could. I moaned and writhed, but complied. I begged her to touch the cock. She replied that she was stroking it with her eyes and that would have to be enough for the moment. I moaned and a large glob of precum oozed from the semi-erect flesh. She laughed and marveled at how the cock seemed to have a will of its own as it lolled about and a second string of precum came oozing from its tip.

Finally, she touched me, but not on the cock. She ran her fingernails lightly up and down my legs and across my stomach. Then, without warning, she’d dig her nails deeply into my flesh sending me into tortured flailings. More than once she took hold of my testicles and cruelly twisted and pulled on them sending further waves of ecstatic pain through me. Eventually, I rolled over so she could apply the same loving attention to my backside, but also so I could grind into the bed. She was wise to that and told me I was not allowed to pleasure myself with her cock and to knock it off, which I reluctantly did. At this point, it’s probably safe to say a week and a half of denied orgasm and just over a week of chastity, along with the deliciously sensual torture, was causing me to experiencing one of the most intensely sexual experiences of my life. Luckily for me, it was eclipsed 24 hours later, but we’ll get to that in due time.

Belle rearranged me on the bed so that I could kiss and fondle her breasts. I had my mouth on her right nipple, my left arm under her back and my left hand on her left nipple, while my right hand manually stimulated her clitoris. Meanwhile, I freely ground into her leg like the dog in heat I was. She was extremely wet and seemed to be greatly enjoying the attention her nipples were receiving when I started to pick up those tell-tale signals that her orgasm was approaching. She stopped me, rolled me onto my back, and mounted me. The poor, neglected, aching cock – her cock – slid into soft, warm, wet flesh. I was understandably close to coming immediately upon insertion, but – ten days or not – I was determined to avoid a repeat of my previous failure. To help with this, I didn’t think of baseball or NASCAR or whatever other stupid things men are supposed to think about when trying to avoid orgasm. Instead, I repeatedly told myself that it was not my cock. It was her tool and hers alone to receive pleasure from until such time as she allowed me release. I was only the caretaker of her favorite sex toy and could not – would not – allow myself to fail her and get in the way of her pleasure. It was difficult. Very difficult. But I willed the orgasm back. In fact, I was so successful that, after she came and told me I was free to come myself, I had some work to do to get back to the edge of coming. But come I did in the most explosive, most intense, most abso-fucking-lutely mind blowing orgasm of my entire life. I actually felt the hot, thick slug of ejaculate surge up, out of my prostate and through every inch of her cock in a way I had never felt before. Regardless of all that talk from before of mourning the orgasm – of regretting the passing of the denial – I can say without reservation that I wanted that orgasm and loved every second of its existence.

This moment of pure orgasmic bliss is why I so enthusiastically embrace orgasm denial. When I think back on all the hundreds of meager, lonely orgasms pulled manually from my body over the bathroom sink or in front of the glow of internet porn, they couldn’t – not even in combination – compare to this one, single event. This one perfect orgasm allowed to me by the love of my life, my keyholder.

To be continued.

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The beacon has been activated

As has been previously mentioned, the affect of orgasm denial on my sleep patterns is of interest to me. Lately, I have been sleeping really poorly. I think I’ve had about 10 hours of sleep over the past three days, and it’s not due to the physical discomfort of being in the CB6K. I seem to be teeming with hormones and they just won’t let me fall asleep or stay asleep. I’ll wake up in the middle of the night perfectly alert, hard-on stuffed into its plastic home, and vivid sexual images passing though my head. Last night, I experienced the sensation of waves running up my body from my waist to my chest and down my arms. They seemed to be waves of pure electric excitement like some kind of emergency beacon activated by my cock to tell the world it’s been abandoned and for someone to please send help. Putting an arm over Belle or her holding me seems to calm these feelings, but does nothing to help me really relax. Yes, I’m calmer, but now I’m touching her.

Last night before she went to sleep, Belle was kind enough to use her nails on my ass, back and my stretched ball sack. We kissed deeply and basically had a heavenly time. It was like pouring gas on a campfire, but I enjoyed every second of it. I told her how happy she was making me and how lucky I considered myself to be since I’ve found many examples on the web of husbands trying to bring OD or chastity into their marriages with little interest from their spouses. I told Belle I am really starting to think of the meat between my legs as belonging to her. I believe that she controls and owns it and, through it, me. She’s exploring what that means to her and on what terms she wants to live with it, and that’s what makes me happy. She’s not just doing it because I want her to. She’s making it her own. And I love her so much for that.

I keep wanting to fuss with the fit of the CB6K. For most of my current stint in the device, I’ve been wearing the second to largest ring (1 7/8″ I think) and the second to smallest spacer. Based on Maymay’s fitting advice, I feel I should be wearing the middle sized ring (1 3/4″) but have a hard time with it. I put it on last night while cleaning the device, along with a larger spacer, but once erect found myself in too much pain. I remember the 1 7/8″ ring also caused pain at first, so I suppose I just need to eventually suck it up, wear the 1 3/4″ ring and make my cock adapt. But I chickened out and reverted to the larger ring just before bed.

So, that’s the state of affairs on this, my ninth day without orgasm and first full week in chastity. Belle and I are leaving town tonight for a weekend in a cabin deep in the woods (without internet). I know she’s not going to let me out until tomorrow, so that will be eight days locked up. I suspect she will allow me to orgasm as well, but if she really wanted to demonstrate her position, she won’t let it happen right away. Or maybe not even until Sunday. That would be delicious. However, I absolutely want to come this weekend. Ten or eleven days without release is enough for this little bunny, thanks.

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Big day

It was a big day today for those of us in acrylic imprisonment. First, I was able to pee standing up each time I went while at work. No, I’m not sure my aim’s good enough to do it at home into the toilet, but standing close to a urinal worked just fine, thankyouverymuch. I just poked the tip of my pinky through the slot (or, at least the tip of the tip of my pinky) and maneuvered Mr. Winky into a position more or less in alignment with the opening and BINGO! Man, I can’t tell you how happy I am about that. Peeing like a grown-up has been, after intimate contact with my cock, the number one thing I’ve missed while being in enforced chastity. Seriosuly, now that I’m able to pee normally and I’ve got the fit issues figured out and can sleep through the night (at least those nights when I am able to fall asleep), I could be in this thing indefinitely. Which reminds me…

I told my Belle Fille the other night that I’d be very happy only coming two or three times a month. Mind you, this is a dramatic improvement over our sex life of midsummer, but I’m not talking about only having sex 2-3 times every thirty days. I’d like to have sex as often as Belle will let me and I want to make her come each and every day (twice on Sundays), but I only want to come occasionally. I want to be denied because I find I am really very happy being denied. I love the mist of sexual frustration that hangs in the air among my thoughts all day. I love how acutely aware of her presence I am whenever she’s anywhere near. I love constantly thinking about what she will or will not allow me to do to her or with her each evening. I love the slightly dopey feeling that comes over me when I smell her while close in, nose on her neck, kissing her jawline…***…um…what? Sorry, where was I? Oh, yeah. In short, I love just about everything to do with denied orgasm. She’s getting pretty good at teasing me (making tremendous progress considering it’s still very new to her and she has no idea where I’m coming from when I say I want her to frustrate me 27/30’s of each month). As I said in a previous post, I am very happy to be where I am and consider myself incredibly lucky to have a mate who will make this journey with me. I hope (and think) she’s getting something out of it along the way.

Oh, almost forgot. The second thing that happened today was I found some underwear and a pair of flat-front dress pants that, when worn together, totally hide the plastic between my legs. The underwear is a pair of low-rise jockey-style briefs that hold my package close in and down between my legs. The pants have a looser crotch. Combined, they allowed me to cruise through the day well camouflaged, comfortable, and peeing on vertical surfaces whenever it struck my fancy. Yes, indeed, a big day it was.

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A Week

It’s been almost a week since the last update. Sorry for shirking my duties!

Last Sunday morning, Belle woke saying she was hot for Thumper. This, I might say, is a nice way to wake up. Unfortunately, our youngest was up and in and out of our room, so Belle told me that I’d have to wait until that night to satisfy her craving. The previous night, I had made up for Friday’s transgression by giving her the orgasm she was denied 24-hours earlier. I guess that wasn’t quite enough, because she woke up wanting more. By lunchtime, I was also locked up in the CB6K. I went in voluntarily so I could test a new combination of ring and spacer sizes (middle ring, second to smallest space). Even though I wasn’t interested in being in there very long, Belle decided I might have to keep it on for a while. She reminded me that she, not I, decided when it came off. Putting it on of my own volition didn’t change that.

The day went by and we spent the evening over at her parent’s house celebrating her dad’s birthday. Belle had more than her fair share of wine and, by the time we got home and into bed, she was over the “hot for Thumper” phase from earlier. Now, at this point, if it were me in her position, I’d just say, “You thought we were going to have sex? Too bad.” But instead, she went somewhere else.

One of the things that lead to the troubles we experienced in out marriage was lack of sex. I don’t blame her for this. We both let it happen over a long period of time. We just stopped having it. We’d go six or eight weeks with nothing whatsoever – her not offering and me not asking. She didn’t seem to need it and I’d go and look at some web porn whenever I wanted to cum. Combined with other factors, this eventually led me into a short-lived affair. Last Sunday, instead of using her position as my sexual dominant to cover for her lack of interest, she instead took a left turn and started crying. She was worried, she said, that by denying me sex after suggesting we’d have it earlier that we were heading back to the place that caused our marriage to suffer.

Two things here. First, nothing could be further from the truth. Our troubles before were caused by joint sexual apathy, but now I felt we had a fully-engaged love life. She was denying me because I wanted to be denied. I was 1500% more satisfied with a fraction of the ejaculations. Second, as soon as she became vulnerable to me – when she cried and expressed her worry – I was completely blown out of my subspace. I could no longer be submissive to her and the presence of the CB6K on my cock went from being sensual to annoying in about 1/10th of a second. I asked a few times to have it removed (requests she basically ignored) and finally asserted that it had to be removed. The entire D/s dynamic was swept away.

I tried to explain how she had nothing to fear. That I was really much happier now and how she could use her disinterest as just another way to tease me (in effect, giving me what I wanted by not giving me what I wanted), but she was still weepy as we went to sleep. I can’t say we were fighting, but there seemed to be some unresolved issues. The next morning, I was still a million miles from feeling submissive. By that night, though, things were getting better. We had another, less tearful, conversation and I felt myself descending back into my subspace. I got a little heated up and she rebuffed me in the “right” way, which helped a lot. Now, I’m feeling close to where I was before. She let me cum Wednesday (somewhat unexpectedly) but has since locked me up again and said I will get out until next Friday (which will be eight days in the device, twice my previous record). Not only that, I’ll have been without orgasm for ten days (also a new record).

There’s more I can say about the ups and downs of the previous week, but I don’t have time at present. Suffice it to say, we’re heading back to a place where we’re both comfortable, which is good, and I’m walking around with the buzz of sexual denial keeping me on edge, which is great. It was amazing to me how quickly the trappings of sexual submissiveness could be pulled down, but am happy to feel them returning. All I ever want her to do is what feels right to her. As long as she’s happy, I will be, too.

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Damage report

Belle let me out last night. I figured she would, but there was always an outside chance she’d keep me in there. Last time, I got out because she felt sorry for me. This time, it was just because she wanted my cock. I like that reason better (and yes, she let me cum).

I neglected to mention in my recent reports that I picked up a set of KSD-G3s to help improve the security of the CB6K. (For those who don’t know, the KSD-G3 is a polycarbonate doodad that fits into the tube of the CB6K above the penis. It has a little rib that protrudes on the end down and into the flesh of the penis. It works by holding the penis in place but, more importantly, by causing the skin of the penis to gather and catch as it’s pulled out. I found it to be very effective. I might have been able to pull out, but I’m not sure I would have been able to get back in.) I wore the middle size (B) for the first two days but had to take it out (carefully, without removing the tube) because it had sharp little corners that were biting into me at night. After a few minutes under the business end of my Dremel, the little corners were gone and the G3 was back in place (male chastity is a surprisingly DIY-intensive sport, I’m finding). No more biting. However, here on the morning after, I find three abrasion lines on the top of my shaft from the protruding rib on the G3. Nice, neat little cuts except they didn’t break the skin. They don’t really hurt, but I’m thinking next time I should go the smallest size. Would hate to take off the tube one day and find two-thirds of my severed cock still in it.

I also have some tenderness on the underside of my shaft where it meets my scrotum. I believe this is from the end of the tube in that location digging into my balls during erections but also when the tube is shoved into them when I’m wearing jeans or tight underwear. Nothing too serious.

I have a few little abrasions on the head of my dick from those pesky erections pushing it though the opening at the end of the tube. Again, nothing serious. Don’t remember where, but I found a tip on the web to help avoid this. Fold up a square of toilet paper and slip it into the head of the tube. Makes a nice little pad to both absorb dribbles of urine but also to protect against the kind of abrasions I have. I’ll try that next time, at least when sleeping.

Finally, I’ve discovered the cause of two areas of irritation on either side of the base of my shaft. The CB6K’s design uses three polycarbonate (or maybe nylon) posts. The main one secures the tube to the ring and has a hole for the lock. The other two are on either side of that one and hold the ring assembly together (as well as providing some structural rigidity to the unit). The backside of the main post is flush with the ring against the pubic bone when inserted, but the other two have slightly rounded ends . While not rough, they apparently protrude just enough to cause the two spots of irritation I have. They line up perfectly. Not sure what to do about that. I might be able to sand them down. Either that, or I’m going to develop some oddly-placed callouses.

If all this talk of irritation, biting, chafing, etc., sounds like too much trouble to you, then enforced chastity is not in your future. Personally, I was a little disappointed she didn’t lock me back up after she had her way with me (and more than a little surprised by my disappointment). There is hope, though. She’s said that if Barack Obama loses Virginia, she’s going to lock me back up. If he wins it, then I’m safe until at least Friday. I have no idea what Virginia’s voting has to do with my cock, but I like the randomness of my fate. I only wish the polls showed a closer race.

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Sleeping in chastity

This single biggest thing I’ve had to get used to over the past four days of enforced chastity is sleeping. Thanks to my little acrylic friend, I now know that, due to nocturnal penile tumescence, I achieve three substantial erections over the course of any given night. These aren’t run-of-the-mill erections, either. They’re much harder, stronger, and of greater duration than normal boners and are totally disconnected to what I’m feeling or thinking. So far, they’ve been very regular – one at around 1:30, another at about 3:15, and the last at around 5:00. At those times, three forms of pain awaken me.

  1. My erection’s swelling causes pressure at the base of my shaft which, in turn, causes the cock ring to cut cruelly into me. As I said yesterday, there are two points of irritation forming on my cock and the swelling of my meat against the sharp edges of hard, unyielding acrylic is, I believe, the cause. Why oh why can’t the ring be rounded?
  2. The internal diameter of the tube is smaller than my cock. Therefore, it’s like having a vice on all 3.25″ of my dick that will fit within it. Additionally, there are three vents on either side of the tube near where it locks to the ring. These vents are purportedly there to allow for the circulation of air and to aid cleaning. However, when fully erect, the soft, fleshy tissue within extrudes out of them like Play-Doh. The edges of the acrylic are not sharp, but the constant intense pressure causes the edges to eventually bite. Also, the skin that pokes though is pulled tight and becomes very sensitive.
  3. As my erection lengthens, it pushes at the end of the tube and lifts the entire apparatus away from my body. This has the effect of pulling on my scrotum and causing its skin to be pulled smoothly tight. My testicles, unable to escape through the ring, are forced to the sides of my entrapment and rub, in their hyper-sensitive state, against my inner thighs.

This entire straining package lays throbbing between my legs seemingly all night long. As I shift from side to side, it ponderously flops back and forth. Laying on my back is the best bet, but I can’t sleep that way. I want to be on my sides or stomach. On my sides, it gets crushed between my legs or, if I push it out, pulls down on whichever side is opposite gravity. I can move further around so I’m partially on my stomach, but this ratchets up the sensations as it seems to cause more blood to flow into the area. I can lay fully on my stomach, but that means shoving the package down between my legs causing more constriction and, like before, greater engorgement.

Night before last, as all this was going on during the 5:00 AM shift, Belle turned to me in the bed and meant to place one of her legs between mine (entwining them as any loving couple might over the course of the night). Unfortunately, her knee came in a little too aggressively and collided against all the tight, constrained, and otherwise tortured flesh. I saw stars in the pitch black of our room. Oddly enough though, after the initial shock of impact, I felt myself enjoying the afterglow of pain.

And that’s the root of my new found observation. As I briefly mentioned yesterday, because Belle is forcing me to wear the device this time, I find myself actually looking forward to the pain. I like it when Belle inflicts pain on me during our lovemaking and, since I’m in chastity at her direction, it is, in essence, a form of lovemaking (at least in my twisted and hormone-fevered brain). The device is the physical manifestation of her control over me, so when I wake up in the middle of the night in pain, she’s giving it to me. It hurts, yes. Hurts a lot. But I’m starting to appreciate it. God help me, I’m starting to really enjoy it.

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Random thoughts on the CB-6000

Last time I wore the CB-6000, it was only for two days. This time, I’ve already gone 50% longer (do the math). Hardly a long term incarceration, but enough time to come up with some observations.

  • Going to the bathroom goes from a simple, quick act to a protracted operation. First, grab the Q-Tips. Second, sit down (grrr). Third, attempt to align penis slit with opening in tube. Fourth, pee. Sometimes, the stream is not strong since the device is somehow constricting the flow. At best, you have a 50-50 chance of starting a healthy, unimpeded stream. Otherwise, it’s spraying around and probably getting all over the inside of the tube, on your inner thigh, etc. Fifth, use Q-Tips to absorb as much moisture as possible inside the tube. Don’t forget to flush (at least leaving the lid up isn’t an issue).
  • It’s impossible to stop thinking about your cock when it’s locked up. From being awakened several times a night by nocturnal erections that will not go away, to constantly having to adjust the position of everything while sitting or driving, to simply feeling the weight of the device on your unit as you walk around, there just isn’t a time that my dick and its condition isn’t top of mind. This, I believe, is what’s known as irony. My cock gets locked up to make it a useless tube of meat and, in the process, it becomes the single most important thing in my world.
  • The ring is really starting to cause me some pain. I’m currently in the 1 7/8″ size and, even though I’m using May’s advice, I’m still seeing quite a bit of irritation just to the left and right of the base of my cock (about where my scrotum meets the sides of my shaft). I have been shaving in that area, so that may be contributory. I think the hard edge of the ring is to blame, though. I spent, like, 20 minutes today daydreaming how I could make the ring rounded.
  • Working out is not possible. I use an ellipse machine to exercise and found today that I was experiencing some testicular pain after about 10-15 minutes of moderate activity. This sucks. Everything I had read about this on other blogs was to the contrary.
  • Interestingly, now that I’m wearing the device because Belle is making me, all this doesn’t bother me as much as it did when I was wearing it just because. Even the nocturnal pain feels more sensual (or something) since it’s cause by something she ordered me to do. Weird.

Starting the third night in about 15 minutes. We’ll see how I feel about it in the morning…

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Back in the box

Wednesday night, Belle was out of town. Before she left, she agreed to allow me to pleasure myself in her absence as long as I did not achieve orgasm. I have found that I need an outlet for my sexual tension when I can’t focus on her and dry masturbation seemed to help. Also, before she left, she agreed to leave our toy box unlocked as I wanted to play around with some of our new items (I called it “research”).

Earlier in the day, on my way back to the office following a client meeting, I found myself back at the house with thoughts of that unlocked box dancing in my head. I hurried into our bedroom, stripped, and brought out the Aneros. It had been about five days since my last orgasm and I wanted to see if I could milk myself.

My first impression of the Aneros was that it was very small. That was disappointing. As I’ve mentioned previously, I’m an old hand at putting things up my ass and have always been something of a size queen. The Aneros is positively dainty in comparison to some of the things I’ve gotten up there. What I found, though, is that size really doesn’t matter. A couple of drops of JO lube later, and it slid in so easily I almost didn’t feel it. Once in place though, I immediately appreciated its cunningly devised shape. After about 10 or 15 minutes of direct prostate massage combined with a moderate amount of stroking, I experienced my first non-orgasmic emission. It just sort of poured out in a rather lazy fashion and pooled next to my belly button. It was ejaculation without the jack. Since it was a new sensation attached to my dick, I have to say I enjoyed it, but it wasn’t anything like cumming. Afterward, I was still totally aroused, and in fact, remained in a heightened state of arousal for the remainder of the day. There was no post-orgasmic high. No drowsiness. No contentedness. My brain was still buzzing with sexual activity.

Which was probably why I screwed up that night. After all the kids were in bed and asleep, I wanted to repeat the milking experience. I wasn’t sure it was possible since my understanding of how it worked was that there had to be ejaculate backed-up and waiting behind the prostate, but I was horny as hell and couldn’t imagine it would hurt anything to try again. This time, it didn’t even take ten minutes. Either I found the fucking spot on my gland or it was extra sensitive from the earlier session, but the intensity of the feelings washing over me was like nothing I’ve ever felt before. Next thing I knew, and with little manual stimulation, the semen was leaking out again. Still not flying out like a normal orgasm, but with more vigor than the first time. In fact, it wasn’t so much the way it came out but how it felt inside that told me I had cum. As soon as I realized it was happening, I tried to stop it, but it was too late. It wasn’t an especially good orgasm, but an orgasm it was. I had broken my promise to Belle. I felt terrible.

Not only had I cum without permission, but I did it after she gave me permission to masturbate. It was just about the worst thing I could do. However, I also knew she would not appreciate the seriousness of the infraction. I could have told her and experienced no repercussions. But, in the twisted way my mind’s working, I wanted her to punish me. I needed to pay for cumming. Even though I’m no big fan of the CB6K, I knew that I needed to put it on. And not just for two days this time. I came without permission. I needed to do some hard time (so to speak).

If we have any issues in our relationship right now, they’re mainly centered around me needing her to be a strong, dominate female and her resistance to doing it naturally. She just doesn’t feel it. I want to be beat up, tortured, teased, and denied and she just wants to snuggle. Don’t get me wrong, I love snuggling (in fact, her absent-minded stroking of my armpit hair while we’re holding each other is one of my favorite sensations). But sometimes, and especially now since its all so new, I want her to domme it up a bit. I have a feeling it will come – that we’ll eventually meet half-way – but it’s going to take time. I’ll go vanilla for her when she wants me to and she’ll tie me up and spank me every so often. But for the moment, it’s somewhat awkward. Case in point…

I spilled the beans to her when she got home the next day. I told her I proactively locked myself up (though she admitted that she wouldn’t have thought of that). I told her she needed to decide for how long I was to be incarcerated and that she should not let my whining and complaining about it affect her decision. I needed to be locked up and denied for a long time. I should never, ever want to cum outside her company ever again. Yes, I do get off on this treatment, but I really do hate the fucking CB6K. Really. She needs show me who’s boss and to use the CB6K as her enforcement tool – the physical manifestation of her absolute control over my sexual pleasure. Hopefully someday, I won’t need to coach her on this and it’ll all just come to her naturally. When it does – when I fear her reaction to cumming at the wrong time or without her permission – then I’ll really be happy.

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Different, not better

Day two in the cage. This morning, Belle supervised as I dismantled the little acrylic torture chamber in order to put on the 2″ ring (which, by the way, is too big – makes the thing much less secure). The relief once it was off was palpable. I had mentioned to her less than 10 minutes before that I wanted to move up a size and that I needed her to unlock me. As soon as I realized I was going to be released, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I kept going back to her until she agreed to go into the bathroom with me and do it. I was like a little kid or a puppy or something. I had to get out of it.

She washed the tube while I reassembled the bits and pieces. As soon as I started to slide the lubed cage back over my cock, I felt the elation leak out of me. I think I even whimpered a little. When she snapped the lock, something snapped in me, too. Not “snapped” like a postal worker. Maybe “clicked” is a better word. Anyway, I suddenly felt very much kept. Locked up basically against my will since I really didn’t want to get back in there. But, a deal’s a deal. I gave her the power and she’s using it. I felt very different than before it arrived when she was denying me release. Then, I was looking for more stimulation – more access to her in order to get that. This time, I felt owned by her.

After the relocking was done, I followed her around from room to room, kissed her a lot, and (apparently) gave her funny looks. Now I realize that I’m not just being denied orgasm, but her touch as well. She likes to lay in bed and basically pet my cock. She’s been doing the same thing since I got locked up, but of course, now I can’t feel it. The only sensation I get from my cock now is negative (pressure, tightness, pain). I feel so much more dependent on her than before. I am starting to feel like I’m her prisoner. It is effecting me emotionally and mentally.

Mind you, I’m not saying I want to stop. I really want to continue to experiment with the device. However, at this time, I can’t say I want chastity to be a huge part of our sexual lifestyle – more like a side dish rather than an entree. I love that she controls it. I love that I have no power over its use. It is a huge turn-on. Beyond that, though, I’m not sure I love how it makes me feel.

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Irresistible force

The biggest surprise so far with the CB6K is that, in fact, it does not stop erections. Just like Christmas morning the night after the Grinch steals all the Who-gifts, somehow or other, I get hard just the same. Unfortunately, the strength of my erection doesn’t break the box it’s in quite as easily as the Grinch’s heart did when it grew from four sizes too small. It’s more like when he gets caught going down the chimney. Yeah, OK, enough Dr. Suess metaphors.

I guess I thought the erection would start, see that it didn’t have room, shrug its shoulders, and then go back into his hole. Turns out it doesn’t have shoulders (D’OH!). It just keeps on truckin‘ and ends up backing up into my body and pressing the CB6K’s ring into the underside of my balls. Ouch. I’m going to try moving to the 2″ ring tonight, but don’t have much hope that it’ll make a difference.

Belle leaves town on Thursday for four days. She says she knows if I’ll be locked up while she’s gone, but she’s not willing to tell me my fate…