Tag: chastity devices

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HNThumper XVI

According to the reader survey, HNThumper is the least popular content on DT. It is true that 48% said they either love or like my HNT, but a full third answered “I can take ’em” – the only category in which that answer was the most popular – and 10 percent (double digits!) said “Feh. They’re OK”. Twelve perecent (way more than any other category) had no opinion. At least nobody said yuk.

Two words: oh well.

After the jump, you’ll find yet another artsy fartsy image of me in the Steelheart. For those uninterested, move along. For everyone else, clicky click!

Continue reading “HNThumper XVI”

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In-N-Out

I was out of the cage yesterday. I woke up feeling a stingy itchiness inside the tube that was intolerable (and very unsexy). I’ve felt something kinda like this before after being let out after an extended lock-up, but I’ve never felt anything like it while locked up (and never half as bad as this). As soon as Belle let me out, we saw that the corona of the glans was red and irritated, and afterward, I noticed a red line running up and down the sides of the shaft that traced where the PA fixing would press against it. Belle decided I needed some time out of the steel to recuperate, so there I was: Unlocked due to health and safety and feeling very strange (but ultimately OK since it was obviously necessary).

So why the red itchy unsexy stinging? My theory is that it was due to the cabin’s hot tub. We were up there over the weekend and sat in it a couple times and I, assuming the hot water soak was keeping me clean, didn’t follow my regular hygiene routine. However, the water in the tub was highly chlorinated (more so than usual) and I think by not cleaning the tube out, the chemicals eventually started to bug me. The thing about a stainless steel chastity tube with only a little round hole at its end is that, most of the time, it’s warm and moist in there. I bet it never fully dries out. So, that being the case, I basically left my little friend to stew in a chlorinated chemical bath for 48 hours. Not smart.

Last night, after only about 12 hours or so of being free, we checked it again and all the redness and irritation had gone away. I asked Belle how long she planned on leaving me out and she replied that since it was apparently all back to normal, I could go back in right then. As I said, it had only been about 12 hours (probably ten of which everything felt weird and not right). I had thought about what a nice change it was going to be feeling a real erection in the morning after spending three weeks in the tube – three weeks of stifled, stunted wannabe erections. But no dice. She was putting me back in immediately. I never once got a hard-on outside of the tube before it was back on me.

As I was reassembling it, and even though I was doing so under Belle’s observation, the cock was very small and meek looking. Almost withdrawn. The tube was enormous in comparison and seemed cavernous as I placed the flaccid little specimen back inside. It was pretty obvious neither of us was all too excited about reentering the steel so quickly.

Which, of course, leads to another little slice of Chastity Paradox. Five minutes after the little sailor was locked in the brig, I felt it pressing against the sides of the tube, plumped with blood. I really did want to stay out and feel God’s honest erection, but I also wanted what I got. Maybe this time, I should keep everything clean.

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Alchemy

Belle’s out of town again.

“But Thumper,” you say, “It sure does seem like she’s out of town a lot. Leaving you alone. All alone.”

Why yes, it does seem that way, doesn’t it? That’s very perceptive of you to notice. In reality, she’s been traveling a lot less over the past year or so, but it’s true that she does get away more often than others might. Well, more often than me. This time, she’s off visiting her best friend in San Francisco again. It’s her birthday present.

Back in the old days, every night of her absence would be a semen-drenched orgy of frenzied masturbation for me. I’d do all manner of unspeakable things to myself and wipe away copious amounts of sticky white goo. More recently, her trips have been defined by mass consumption of pornography resulting in little more than a painfully tight chastity tube, a swollen prostate (with occasional dribbling leaks), and sleeplessness. This trip, though, has been different. For the last two nights, I’ve just watched TV and then gone to sleep. I am horny and I do have all kinds of hormone-induced thoughts tripping through my head, but it’s manifesting differently this time. I’m not saying tonight won’t be the night I binge on porn, but the few times I’ve started I’ve lost interest fairly quickly. I’m still posting to the Portfolio and enjoying many of the images I’m sorting through, but that’s a different kind of activity with a different objective. Can’t say what’s behind the new behavior. Just observing.

The time out of the device on our trip and how that made me feel (resentful, annoyed), combined with being back in now (happy, contendly frustrated), has allowed to me appreciate exactly how much I feel it’s been integrated into my life and our relationship. It’s not just a sex toy anymore. Emotionally and physically, I feel as though this hunk of steel between my legs completes me. It’s a potent symbol of my connection to Belle and of her acceptance of (and even enthusiasm for) my sexuality. It represents our intimacy and the new dynamic that has permeated our life. It may not be trendy to invest it with such power, but it’s how I feel.

I feel so strongly about this that lately I’ve been wondering what it would be like to wear it forever (except, of course, for those infrequent moments of inspection and hygiene and for those times Belle wanted to use its contents). I don’t really think of it as a separate thing anymore. I don’t consider the inconveniences it causes. This is just how I am. Feeling resentful of the device and its impact on my everyday life would be like feeling resentful for having to eat. Or breath. I honestly want it on me 99.95% of the time (which would leave me 4 and a third hours a year for maintenance and attention to Belle’s desire – plenty of time). I actually think that’s possible, assuming the Steelworxx is occasionally substituted for the CB6K when required by Federal law.

I’m also thinking about what an essentially orgasmless existence would be like. I’m over two months from my last orgasm and am doing fine, so in practice I’m already there. I’m conditioned now to be able to go a really long time. What if I only came two or three times a year? I could manage that. I almost have to if I want to feel truly denied. A couple weeks just doesn’t cut it anymore.

So now, I’m very horny (sometimes, suddenly and distractingly so). But I like that. I want both that and for it to continue indefinitely. It’s the chastity paradox. On the one hand, craving the device. The control. The craving itself. On the other, astonishingly clear fantasies of shooting hot, thick ropes of ejaculate up and onto my chest and stomach (and, if I’m very lucky, even my face). Feeling the draw of her pussy, like a glowing orb, as I’m laying next to her in the reflected afterglow of her orgasm. Feeling the phantom sensation of its warm wet folds grasping a free erection, beating and throbbing with my heart. But that’s not for me. While I want it badly, I don’t get it. Don’t really want it. The way I think of it, I want to come and to fuck and to jack-off but I need to be denied. To always feel her will over mine. To know I’m always in check.

I don’t pretend that the device itself is the source of these feelings. It’s a tool like any other. I have ascribed upon it a lot of emotional energy, but it’s nothing more than Belle’s implement. I can’t promise the same kinds of feelings will come over someone else. This entire situation is the result of how the device has interacted with Belle and I. It has worked its alchemy upon us, but in a way that’s unique to us because we’re unique.

I know I’m being insufferably romantic about this. There are clearer heads out there who see though all the wawa mysticism. But the wawa stuff is mine and I’m not letting go.

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Catching up

My balls are aching this morning. But I’ll get to that…

It’s been a weird couple of weeks. In London, I was only able to get Belle off once, though it was a very hot little experience. Then, it was lots of walking and lots of tiredness and very little sexy feelings all around. Plus, even though Belle had said she was going to keep me locked when we were over there, she actually didn’t (and didn’t communicate why very well). Two days before we came home, the hard drive on my laptop crashed and I’m still trying to recover that that. Then, after fighting off jet lag for a few days, I got sick. Like, sicker than I’ve been in years. So sick, I didn’t have an erection (not even a nocturnal one) in three days. That’s sick.

So, back to the beginning. Even though Belle said she was going to keep me locked in London, she didn’t. And as the days ticked by and I was still very unlocked, she either made noncommittal sounds about it or even just ignored it all together. Finally, by the fifth day or so, I asked what was up. She said she had decided to leave me out to make being there easier.

Technically, being locked up is easier than not because, with the PA piercing and the ring I wear for chastity security, peeing is a lot less complicated with the tube than without. But in any event, I don’t want things to be easy. I want to do hard things for her. I want to be inconvenienced and constantly reminded of my position. But whatever. The biggest issue I had with this is she didn’t say anything to me at all until I forced the issue. That kind of silence feeds into the fear I have that she’s only pretending to care about all this chastity and denial stuff as much as she does to humor me. It makes me feel insecure and ultimately angry since it’s not that hard to just say, “I changed my mind.”

In any event, on the second night there I decided to try to get a little action and take advantage of the free meat. Since we had a bedroom separate from the rest of the flat (and the kids), I suggested she let me get her off with the cock, but she said I couldn’t handle it. She would let me give her an orgasm, though. I got busy with my hands and mouth and, about half way through, she started talking. Maybe she would let me fuck her. Maybe she did want to feel her hard cock buried deep inside her. I kept working, moaning and throbbing hard, just waiting for the final go ahead so I could slide into the friendly confines of her hot, wet snatch.

And then she came. “Psych!” she whispered in my ear after a few seconds of recovery time. She fell asleep while I was left dry, hard and horny.

Then, as I said, there was essentially ten days of sexlessness brought on by exhaustion and illness, though Belle did lock me back up as soon as we got home.

Yesterday morning, as I started to write this post, I felt a cold trickle on my upper thigh. Reaching into my sweats, I felt slick, gooey semen oozing from the end of the steel tube. According to my little tracker, it’s been two months since my last pleasurable orgasm (and at least six weeks since any kind of emission). Belle won’t let me orgasm again until June 7th – still nearly two months away. I can’t even remember the last time I came.

Last night, the first night I was feeling more human than not, I really wanted to feel Belle come. She told me to get naked and I started to rub my face and hands all over her body. I kissed her face and neck and put my mouth on her nipples, taking my time and enjoying the moment. Her hands found the straining steel tube between my legs and the tight nutsack it was anchored to. While I sucked and licked her nipples, she started slapping my nuts. At one point, my reflexive response to a particularly well-placed smack caused a thick slug of precum to travel from my prostate all the way down the length of the trapped cock until it trickled out end of the tube.

“You can either stay where you are or put your fingers in my cunt, but either way, I’m going to come.”

My hand immediately moved into position over her hot wetness. As I massaged her pussy with two well-lubricated fingers, her legs opened like a flower. The steel ring around the root of the cock bit into my flesh a little harder with each beat of my heart and I moved my mouth down to her crotch and started sucking on her clit. She repositioned me so I could eat her out while still playing with her nipples and I buried my face in her snatch.

All too quickly, she started to come. I could feel her pleasure pulsing at the tip of my tongue and, even though the intensity of it was causing her pull away from me, I kept a consistent contact with her clit while wave after wave of the orgasm crashed over her.

She was instantly spent. It didn’t take long before she started to drift off to sleep while I was hotter and hornier than I’ve been in a long time. Slowly, my desire ebbed enough to allow me a fitful sleep, though each of the several times I woke up during the night, the tube was solid and dense.

So, like I said, this morning my balls are aching.

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Out and about

As promised, Belle let me out last night and left me out until this morning. After she removed the lock, I took all the metal off – both the device and the PA ring. Experience has demonstrated that the heavy ring will cause irritation when in place during exuberant jack-off sessions, but I also wanted a very natural feeling. Just skin.

Laying in bed under the candlelight, she placed her hand lightly over the flaccid meat. I closed my eyes and reveled in the sensation, so unfamiliar and relatively rare, that was only happening because she allowed it to.

She was petting it like a hamster when she said, “Thank you for giving it to me.”

“Thank you for taking care of it,” I replied. “I should have given it to you a long time ago.”

Taking the rapidly swelling meat between the tips of her fingers, she started to slowly stroke it until it was fully hard. My hips twitched and my ass pressed into the mattress as her pace quickened. I felt the old stirrings deep in my balls as the preejaculation mechanisms started clicking into place, but she stopped well short of an orgasm.

Allowing it to rest, she ran her fingers down along the shaft and over my scrotum. I was moaning quietly as she lightly touched my balls, then she clutched them in her hand and started squeezing hard. Harder. Her fingernails were digging into me almost past the point of tolerance before she suddenly released them. Then she slapped them. Then she punched them. She landed two or three blows that sent tendrils of pain down my legs and into my guts. She’d give me just enough time for the red glow of pain to subside before striking again and harder.

“Please, can I touch it?” I asked. I wanted to feel my own hand around that cock. She said yes, and I started to beat the hell out of it. I was stroking the shaft while she kept her fingers playing with the sack, occasionally slapping, squeezing, or punching.

It was all supremely indulgent. All the attention was focused on me and, while she let me kiss her passionately, she turned down multiple offers for anything else. All she wanted to do was reward me, and I was grateful for it.

Before she went to sleep she told me I could keep playing with it as long as I didn’t come. I got close to multiple times, but it was never a serious danger. Clear precum leaked copiously, but mostly through my empty piercing.

After about another hour or so, I too went to sleep and felt the cock stinging from the attention it received. I had jacked it raw. I think that, because it’s in the steel tube nearly all the time now, that its skin has become much more sensitive. I felt this very much on its head. It really isn’t like a normal cock anymore. It’s been domesticated. It’s like a hothouse flower. No longer wild, it needs to be maintained and treated with care. Next time she lets me out for this kind of fun, I’ll have to remember the lube.

This morning, Belle’s off on a three day business trip and the cock, naturally, is back in its protective shell. She’s been gone less than 30 minutes, but I feel her absence acutely. I miss her so much already.

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Zoning

I am, right now, this second, totally in the zone. I’m feeling controlled, horny, and submissive. Belle asked me why and I told her I had no idea. After some thinking it over, I actually have a few thoughts…

  • I haven’t had a real orgasm in five weeks. I know, I had a kind of a thing a couple of weeks ago, but I’m not counting that. There was an emission, but no orgasm. An actual toe curling pleasure squirt has not come out of me since January (though the last time she allowed me to come was on Valentine’s Day). It may not be en vougue to admit it, but being denied and encased can contribute to my subbie vibe.
  • Belle’s exerting her control pretty well right now. Bossing me around, expecting me to serve and obey, etc. She just got her period which means she’s really not feeling like being pawed all over, but last night I was pretty much begging her to be let out so I could play with the cock and she told me no. She did say, though, that if I managed to finish all the laundry today she’d let me out for a little edging tonight. It feels good to be managed. Powerless.
  • Belle’s totally on board with the 100 days thing. She won’t give me permission to come until a hundred days from the 1st of March. I was already a few weeks into being denied when she picked that date as the start of the 100 days, so technically it’ll be more than that when, on June 8th, I’ll have permission. We’ll see if I can make it that long. In any event, the challenge is invigorating.
  • All that, plus she obviously enjoys leaving me in the device continuously. She strokes its surface and comments how smooth it is, tells me how sexy and sleek it looks – better than what it contains. And she’s not just saying that for my benefit. She means it. I am now essentially a permanently chastised man, only let out when she wants to use me, and that’s fucking awesome.

*happy*

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HNThumper XIV

Underwear is a tricky thing. If you’re trying to hide the odd bulge in your crotch because the pants you’re wearing are especially “showy”, then I’ve found tight briefs to be the best bet. However, I’ve also found that the better a pair of underwear hide the device, the more uncomfortable they are. Holding the device down between your legs, squashing the balls into the tube, etc., can leave you feeling rather abused by the end of the day.

If you’re looking for maximum comfort, then I’ve found a simple string thong to be best. The pouch supports your package just enough but doesn’t push it around. Of course, the trade off is that it does nearly nothing to hide the device (it’s almost like going commando, which I’m not a big fan of in chastity), but the difference in comfort is noticeable at the end of the day.

This discussion, of course, is all a flimsy artifice to give me an excuse to post a picture of me in my underwear. Click the jump for the moderately NSFW image (and then click again for a slightly more risque reveal).

Continue reading “HNThumper XIV”

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Random updates

My blogging performance has been substandard of late, so here’s a few random nuggets of information to get my wheels turning again…

—

I got the replacement lock to the Steelheart yesterday. This time, I noticed that Dietmar rounded the sharp brass edges before he sent it. Not sure if this is a change he made based on my review (or comments like it) or if the first one I got was an anomaly, but I was pleased to see the change. I’m also pleased now to be wearing a lock with two keys! Belle changed it out last night.

—

During the week she let me out of the device, there was a morning where my sexual appetite combined with the free erection caused me to snuggle aggressively into Belle. She, wanting to sleep a bit more, kinda rolled over and placed her hand directly onto the hard cock. And then fell back to sleep. Her breathing was deep and regular while mine was more shallow and quick while, for a relatively long time (like, twenty minutes), her hand just sat there and the cock underneath would soften slightly then harden again, over and over. I’d flex it just a little to get more stimulation, but I was afraid if I did it too much her hand would have rolled off of she would have turned over or something. It was torture. But, you know, I’m not complaining.

—

Belle had told me she was going to lock me back up on a Sunday, but the Sunday rolled around and nothing happened. Then, she said it would be Monday, but similarly, Monday night saw no locking. It’s not that I was anxious to be locked back up (after about a week, I like the freedom), but her laissez-faire attitude left me feeling a little anxious. When she doesn’t act decisive in her control – when she appears to not take it seriously – it tends to make me feel more insecure and unhappy. I know this is more my issue than hers, but I can’t control how I feel. I shared with her this observation and she had me in the device the next morning.

—

She fucked me just once during my time out and it resulted in an unauthorized emission. I’m not calling it an orgasm because I fought it really hard and clamped down when it started and basically ruined the whole thing (based on the fact that it didn’t feel like an orgasm afterward). I made it right up to the end when she was coming and I thought I was home free. Letting my attention wander for just a split second let it happen.

In any event, I was yet again disappointed in myself for not being able to better control my autonomic functions. The night before, she had said she was going to make me wait a hundred days for my next orgasm and there I was 24 hours later having a barely-controlled squirt that was about as close to an orgasm as a guy can get without actually going over the falls. This led us, more than a week later, to talk about our differing feelings about these events. On the one hand, she just wants to fuck her cock. It’s what she wants and she doesn’t really care what happens as a result of her getting it. I understand that and respect it. On the other hand, I’m not supposed to come and when I do (or get as dangerously close as I did that night), she doesn’t seem to care. There’s next to no consequences and most of the time she doesn’t even say that much about it. Just like not seeming to care when I’m locked up, not seeming to care one way or the other if I come makes me feel like I take this more seriously than she does. This is a difficult place for my inner submissive rabbit to occupy.

I’m not sure we have a solution, but at least we’re talking about it. I feel just as bad suggesting she shouldn’t get her cock when she wants it. I don’t want to deny her anything, let alone the thing I gave her to do with what she wants. Maybe it’s a question of defining consequences so when I fail to control myself, I still feel dominated as opposed to sneaking in a freebee.

I guess the bottom like is I need to feel like she wants to dominate me at least as much as I want to me dominated. This hardly makes me unique. I’m not questioning that she enjoys our dynamic. In fact, she told me the other night she never wants to go back to the way things used to be. Either I need to be in a place where I more consistently accept the way she approaches her end of the deal or she needs to make a few tweaks around the edges (or maybe a little of both).

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Nerdery break

CAUTION: Chastity nerdery ahead!

Regular readers should be aware of my chastity device configuration: A Steelworxx Steelheart fitted with a custom designed PA fixing and a 4ga captive bead ring in my PA piercing (check out my article comparing it to the CB-6000 for pictures, etc.). One of the big upsides of this device is that it’s 100% secure. That security comes at the expense of frequent metal-on-metal noise as the thick PA ring clanks against the inside of the stainless tube.

As I say in the Steelheart vs. CB6K article, the steel PA ring offers zero chance of escape as the ball in the ring requires hand tools to remove or insert – tools that can’t be used with the tube in place. When it’s all locked together, it’s more secure than Fort Knox. The noise, though, can be annoying (especially when it happens around the house whilst wearing pajamas). I’ve just ended a few week stint in the device where I used an acrylic PA ring to see if that helped. I found that the instances of noise dropped dramatically. Occasionally, the PA fixing itself will move inside the tube and make a small sound, but the acrylic made practically no noise (certainly none that could be heard through clothing).

The acrylic is far from perfect, though. The ball snaps in very easily to the plastic ring. I’m fairly certain if I pulled hard enough, the ball would pop out and allow escape (though I have no idea how I’d ever get it back together without taking the whole thing off). Also, I felt a frequent pinching near the head of the cock (sometimes during erections, but more often as a result of the motion used while cleaning). This past weekend, Belle let me out for a thorough cleaning/shaving/inspection and I found the flexible ring was allowing just the tiniest bit of skin to get trapped between it and the ball. This sounds worse than it felt, but there was an obvious spot where the ring exits the urethra that had been pinched more often than was good for it.

In order to give the pinched skin a rest, I put the device back on without any jewelry and absent the PA fixing. Just me in a smooth metal tube. I am never in the Steelheart like this. I found the sensation to be oddly liberating (if one can feel that way in such a thing). The fixing doesn’t bother me when it’s in there, but when it’s gone, I can really feel the difference. It essentially makes the tube’s inner diameter larger so I more often felt the enclosed meat bumping around against its sides. Also, during erection, I could tell I was filling every last bit of open space. When the ring and fixing are in place, there’s always a space near the opening that’s open since the PA ring is actually kinda big and has to go somewhere.

In any event, I checked it out the next morning and saw that the pinched area was good as new so I put the steel ring back in and put the PA fixing through it before locking myself back up. I’m back to wearing my cow bell, but it’s more comfortable than before (along with being more secure).

I’m somewhat proud of the fact that, even though I was alone during all this taking off and putting on of the device, that I never not once took the opportunity to sneak in some strokes. I barely touched it more than I had to. Truth is, I have nearly no self control when it comes to this kind of thing. I’m really good (well, pretty good) at not having the occasional accidental orgasm when messing with the goods, but it’s really hard for me keep my hands to myself (so to speak). There was a moment where I wavered, what with the soap and the grasp of my hand, the lifting the shaft to eradicate the little hairs I can’t get to usually…but I maintained control. I didn’t cheat. As quickly as possible, I did what I was supposed to do and was very grateful to be back in the friendly confines of the device, temptation safely locked away.

In other news, Belle’s lost one of keys. She hid it away and did such a good job that she has no idea where it is. Now all we have is one. I need to take it to the Home Depot and see if they can copy it. If not, I’ll need to send Dietmar a note seeing if he sells spares. The one taped up on my key card is the only one we have. Best I keep its whereabouts familiar in the mean time.

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48 hours of freedom

Wednesday morning, I flew out of town on business. Obviously, one cannot simply stroll by the crack staff of TSA agents at the airport, with their specialized training and advanced technology, with about a pound of hard steel swinging between one’s legs. Even though Belle threatened to make we wear the device on my trip, she took it off me Tuesday night (since I had to get up at the ridiculous hour of 4:00 AM).

I suggested she could put me in the CB-6000 since it’s passed through airport security a couple of times now, at least once when she made me wear it on a business trip last year (upon which, this happened). She said she wouldn’t do that, though, since she’s such a big fan of the Steelheart now and thinks the CB-6000 is ugly. So I was released on my own recognizance. And, for the most part, I was good.

In fact, I was really good on the trip since I was dog tired by the time I hit the sack. One of the more boring hotel nights I’ve had. Next day, I was up fairly early getting ready to leave, but still managed a little wanking. When I promised to be good, I said I would never have an orgasm without her being present, but she didn’t say I wasn’t allowed to fiddle with the merchandise. And I didn’t come. Not even close.

So anyway, the thing I found kinda interesting was Tuesday night, before I left but after she unlocked me, I woke up to find myself jacking off under the covers. I think I was doing it in a dream, or maybe I was dreaming it because I was doing it, but whatever the case, there I was jacking away on my totally free and very hard meat. Similarly, I woke up in the middle of the night in the hotel room grasping it, though not jerking it. It’s like my lizard brain wants any opportunity to reunite with the most important thing in its universe, with or without the cooperation of my conscious mind.

When we met up last night, she told me I was going right back in (especially since she already suspected I had my hand in the cookie jar), so I asked her to put it on me (typically, she tells me to put it on and I go do it – she’s only involved when she locks it, and even then not every time). It’s been kind of a thing I’ve been thinking about lately. She agreed, though in practice I had to put the ring on and, once she got involved, the cock swelled up until it was too big to put in the tube. There was a baggie full of ice on hand to deal with that totally predictable event, but it was still a tight squeeze and I needed to align the pins on the device and seat the tube properly for locking. Had she tried it, I would have been bleeding before she got the key anywhere near it. Lots of skin bulging out to get caught.

So now I’m back in. To be truthful, I’ve been in so much lately that being unlocked makes me feel incomplete. I’m not at all surprised to have been so focused on the cock since it’s unencumbered presence is such a rarity nowadays. She told me over the weekend that my next release date is February 27 (almost a month since last time) and I have every reason to believe that I’ll be locked pretty much continually until then.