Tag: chastity devices

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Key card

Recently, in my post about how impossible the Steelheart is to get out of, Sera asked the following in a comment:

This is probably a naive question but . . . do you worry about being “locked in” in an emergency situation?

And you know what? Yeah, I guess I do. I don’t think it’s very likely that I’ll need to get the device off for any reason (emergency or otherwise), but it does make more than a little sense to have the option when absolutely necessary. This morning, I took the spare key and made this.

The key for the Steelheart’s integrated lock is, as you can see, pretty long. Much longer than any other key we’ve used. What I’ve done is tape it to a piece of paper that has Belle’s signature and the date. That paper is taped to my old Best Buy RewardCard (oh, the irony) and over that is multiple layers of extra tape with little blue happy face stickers between every other layer or so. The tape wraps completely around the card. This picture, besides being posted here, was also emailed to Belle in its original resolution. I’ll carry the card around with me, either in my wallet or my computer bag, and present it to her when demanded to prove that it’s integrity has not been compromised (unlike my own which was not only compromised but also subsequently abandoned by the side of a lonely desert road back in my mid-teens).

I can’t see how I’d be able to unwrap the thing and still have it look like it does now. The happy faces would get tweaked and, even if they didn’t, the paper with her signature would likely tear. It may not be perfect, but I’m hardly a security risk (even though I have been known to pick my own lock).

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Potpourri

About a year ago, I discovered a little statue made by Auguste Rodin called Eternal Idol over on Male Submission Art and fell in love with it. I have no idea if Rodin was subbie, but he’s perfectly captured a moment of male submission in this work. Ever since I found it, I’ve been thinking of getting a copy for Belle but was never able to find one that didn’t look like ass. Asking the Google brings up a ton of links to one particularity nasty knock-off and only a few to the one pictured above (in fact, so obscure, I can’t even find it again). It’s a copy made from the original and currently resides on Belle’s nightstand, a Christmas present from her little bunny.

In other news, I can report that the miracle of human adaptability is again taking place in my pants. When I first got the Steelheart back from the Fatherland, I told you the ring was very tight. Almost too tight. On the border of intolerably tight, to be honest. It woke me up several times a night with its tightness and the accompanying testicular pain. Now, just over a week later, I’ve somehow adjusted. It’s still tight, but the testicular aching is gone. It now wakes me up just like the CB6K did once I got used to it. Somewhere between 5:00 and 6:00, my stainless alarm clock pulls me out of my sleep and makes me get up and pee. This morning, I could have even stayed in bed. I expect that soon, I’ll sleep right though it.

I’d love to know what’s going on when that happens. Are things moving around in there? Are the pain receptors burning out? I don’t notice anything different on the outside, but somehow the very same device is causing my body to react differently. It’s amazing, if you think about it, that a guy can have a thing like this strapped to him and eventually just roll with it.

Yesterday, to celebrate our day off, Belle and I had sex. We brought the rabbit vibe out for only its second performance. I suggested we try to dollar-cost average its per-use expense down from $110/orgasm to only $55/orgasm. Maybe even lower if she liked it. Last time, she used it on herself and I watched. This time, I wanted to use it on her. I still have, even though I’m unable to do it myself, a strong urge to fuck her. Her usual stand-by, Pink the vibrator, is very nice, but not really a fucking tool. It’s too small. I know, it’s not really about me and all, but I’m interpreting Belle’s Rule to mean after 72 hours, I can lobby for anything.

Anyway, at first she declined the rabbit. She wanted my fingers. So, like the dutifully denied husband that I am, I let go of the rabbit idea and started to work on her. There was no rush since we were home alone and it was the middle of the morning. I climbed above her and kissed her nipples and started to stroke her pussy in an unhurried way. The device was soon filled and straining and, since I was above her, hanging down and bumping into her. I moved between her legs and pressed its warm hardness into her snatch. I rubbed it against her clit, not really knowing if it would do anything for her. But it did. She liked it.

“God, I want to fuck you so bad, Belle Fille.”

“Then go ahead. Try it.”

I started to press the Steelheart into her pussy. I could feel her heat radiate through it, but felt no other sensation other than the familiar pressure of the tube restraining me. Its downward curve made any kind of real fucking impossible, but I could feel it being enveloped by her while I fingered her clit. Every little cell in my brain was pushing me to fuck her, and even though a perfectly hard cock was a fraction of an inch away from a wet and willing pussy, it was not to be.

“Get the rabbit,” she said.

I hopped out of bed, hot steel swinging between my legs, and got the rabbit vibe from our toy box. I couldn’t find any lube, so I stuck it my mouth and covered it with spit. After warming it up under the covers for a minute while I worked on increasing her natural lube, I turned it on.

Now, I was really fucking her. The rabbit’s vibrating ears tickled her clit while the lavender head of the shaft (noticeably bigger than me) worked in and out. One hand on the vibe, the other on one nipple, my mouth on the other, she soon was going over the falls and having what seemed to me a pretty serious orgasm.

After a few moments of basking, I asked to be beaten. She said she would and ordered me up on my hands and knees. Then she whipped my ass and upper thighs with the crop. I can’t say how long it went on, but I’m sure my ass was glowing red when it was over. It stung for the better part of the day as we went to the movies and just hung out together. I think I must have told her half a dozen times how much I liked the beating. We so seldom get to do that now that all our hitty toys are so noisy…

Finally, Belle told me that my initial showed up on her calendar again. After only two weeks, I’ll be allowed another orgasm this Saturday (or thereabouts). She told me that any freedom from the device would be short-lived since its presence keeps me properly focused. She made me admit that I knew it was true. It is. I’m a much better bunny when I’m in my cage.

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A dream, a thing, and a scene

I had another dream a few nights ago. In it, I reached down to feel the device (something I find myself doing quite a bit, actually) and discovered that, somehow, the cock was outside it, long and hard. I couldn’t process this as it was unharmed and yet the device was still in place underneath. I was very confused. Then, instead of acting on the unexpectedly free meat, I started to try to stuff it back in the tube before Belle found out. I felt guilty and even somewhat ashamed and very much annoyed that the perfectly secure device had somehow failed. Then I woke up, hard and stuffed into the tube, ring biting. Still perfectly secure.

I feel like writing a post that probably covers some old ground, but I’m sure you’ll humor me. What choice do you have, right? I want to talk about how things have changed with regard to chastity and Belle and I. How her attitude and the new Steelheart have combined into a new thing. A better thing, from my point of view. Then I’ll tell you about a hot little scene to make up for it.

Like most guys, I guess, chastity devices are part of our relationship due to my interest, not hers. For the better part of the first year we used them, I always suspected she was humoring me when she had me wear one. She didn’t seem willing to push my tolerance and acted as though being out was preferable to me than being in. At some point, though, in the past three months that changed. She wants me in a device more than not now.

A week ago, when the new and improved Steelheart went on, she and I were standing in the kitchen together. I had been chastised for all of about 30 minutes at that point, and for the first time in weeks. I was standing very close to her and put my face against her neck.

Belle laughed a little. “I can tell you’re wearing it,” she said.

“I feel different when I have it on,” I replied.

“Good!”

“You haven’t like me out of it?”

“I always love you. You know that. But I’ve come to prefer you the way you are when you’re locked up. You’re more focused and attentive. I like that.”

I think I may have whimpered a little. Shoving your meat into a chastity device because you want to is plenty fun but doing it because it’s expected of you – because she really wants it that way – is another game altogether.

One of the things those of us who wear these devices often hear from those who don’t is that we really shouldn’t have to wear one. We should be strong enough to maintain our chastity through no other force other than our desire to do what our dominant wants. I don’t really argue with that point of view since it’s just another way to play the game, but I think it misses out on something that, for me, is pretty huge. Something I’m only just experiencing now.

The first ingredient is what I just talked about and has been present for a little while now. That is, she wants me in the device more than I want to be in it. The second ingredient is the Steelheart’s newly inescapable features. If one kinks on submitting to their dominant partner, then great. I get that since I do, too. But I also kink quite hard on not having any control. In the past, when the device I was wearing was one I could escape from, I always maintained a certain amount of control since it was only my self-control that kept me in it. I wasn’t really interested in escaping, but knowing I could meant I still had control. Now, I can’t get out. And I don’t decide when I go in. Or how long I’ll be in there. All my control is gone because she’s taken it. That’s hot.

I told Belle this night before last. I told her it made me happy. I’m in a very good zone right now with regard to the D/s and my new found total lack of self-determination has a lot to do with it. That night was also one in which I could, according to Belle’s Rule, initiate sex. She wasn’t really in the mood, but she told me to get undressed and to bring her the butterfly clips anyway. I gave them to her and she kind of played around with them a little by clipping them on the fleshy webbing at the base of her thumb.

“Ouch!” she said, “That hurts.”

“Yeah,” I said, sounding not unlike a stoned surfer. I’m a pretty big fan of those clips.

She experimented with pulling on them and saw for herself how they clamped harder that way. I was getting kind of dreamy watching her fiddle with them. I could feel the tube’s contents plump up.

She finally attached the clamps to my nipples, first the right, then the left. They’re so intense. Wonderfully intense. Belle picked up the chain and started to pull. Gently, then with more force. The tube fully pressurized, biting into the shaft and pulling my scrotum tight. I got up on all fours to help ease the strain of the heavy device pulling on the erection.

That gave Belle a vector into my balls. At first, she stroked them and the hard steel making them tight.

“So smooth,” she said, “I love how smooth it is.”

I looked down and watched her stroke the steel. “I wish I could feel that.”

She pulled me closer and my face down to the mattress with the chain. Then she gripped my balls hard and squeezed them. I instinctively pulled away which caused her to yank on the chain again. In this way, I found myself to be something of a human yo-yo. She’d pull the clamps to make me come closer, allowing her to punch me in the nuts. I’d pull back and she’d yank on the chain and start the whole thing over again.

Pain flashed up and down my body. My balls were aching, both from the device and the abuse. And my nipples were on fire from the yanking and pulling. She was being wonderfully cruel. So thoughtfully, lovingly cruel. As usual, when she’s hurting me, I lose my sense of time. I have no idea how long this went on, but when it was over and the clamps came off, it was as though my nipples exploded. Incredible surge of pain. And as I laid next to her, spooning the solidly filled tube into her backside, my balls throbbed.

I felt completely abused. Thank you, Belle Fille.

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The Steelheart returns

Back on the 15th of December, Dietmar shipped the modified Steelheart back to me. I had sent it to him sometime around the 23rd of November. Based on the amount of time it took to receive it the first time, I didn’t expect to see it again until after the New Year, but lo and behold, there is was all nestled in my mailbox yesterday evening. A Christmas miracle.

new_sh_rings-pTo summarize, I had wanted two things done to the device. First, the original A-ring turned out to be too big. Even though it was roughly the same size as the 45 mm ring I had grown accustomed to on the CB6K, it turns out that 45 mm of steel is not the same as 45 mm of polycarbonate. For one, the Steelheart’s ring is thinner than the CB6K’s and doesn’t grip the same. Also, the Steelheart is significantly heavier (duh). Also also, the CB6K’s ring, being made up of a top section designed to fit all the differently sized bottom ring sections, ends up not being round. It’s 45 mm from side to side, but less than that from top to bottom. So anyhoo, I wanted a smaller ring. My options under 45 mm were 42, 40, 38, and 36 mm. The 42 would have been better, but I decided to go with 40. Thirty-eight and 36 seemed ridiculously small.

new_sh_fixins-pThe second modification I asked for was a new PA fixing design. The original fixing didn’t work for me. My PA ring kept slipping off the end. I sent Dietmar a drawing of a continuous design that would allow the cock to be withdrawn partially (even mostly) but would not allow it to come all the way out. This seemed a good compromise to me between security and comfort.

So as soon as I realized what the unexpected little box in the mail was, I rushed off to the bathroom to open it in private. Even though Belle had said on Saturday she wanted me back in a device, we had both forgotten to put me in it on Sunday. I was free to test out the fit. First off, 5 mm is a pretty big deal. I found getting the ring on involved a second or two of testicle twinge as the second ball popped through. It’s a very snug fit. Getting the cock though, even when totally flaccid, required a fair bit of pulling and squashing. I find the device sits a lot higher now, though I need to lubricate the ring to avoid discomfort. Sleeping is very different now in that the ring bites a lot harder into the base of the erection and also pulls against the balls causing a fair bit of testicle pain. This may sound like a negative, but I found the old fit to be too forgiving. It never got close to waking me up at night and never caused me a bit of discomfort, even when fully erect. Personally, I like a tolerable amount of discomfort from a chastity device. The new smaller ring makes the Steelheart just a bit more intense than the CB6K was. Just on the edge of what I can tolerate.

I’m very happy with the fixing so far. In short, when wearing my 4ga captive ball ring, the new fixing turns the Steelheart into that most mythical of chastity devices: totally escape proof. I mean it, totally. I can only open my PA ring with a heavy tool and I can’t get that tool down into the tube where the ring is. The cock will only slide out so far before it stops and starts to pull on the piercing. I could probably get hard with it partially pulled out, but then what? The head of the cock would still be inside and pulling against the rail of the fixing. In short, I now have a system of stainless steel parts going though and around the cock that interlock in such a way as to make any kind of stimulative access totally impossible. This is not a toy. I cannot break it off and I don’t have any tools that can cut though the steel. When it’s on, it’s not ever coming off without the key. In other words, totally fucking hot.

I had a dream last night that after pulling the cock out to show Belle how secure it was that it somehow pulled though the piercing and ripped the PA ring out. That freaked me the fuck out. Like, big time. I woke up kind of shaky and groping at the device to make sure it had just been a dream and that I was still whole. So yeah, hot, but also very serious. I don’t need to convince myself anymore how secure my device is. Even my subconscious gets it.

This morning, I took the device off so I could take the pictures included in this post, then I put the Steelheart back on. Belle had left me with the key just in case, but I handed it over this morning. I suspect I won’t see it again for a long time.

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A year of piercedness

Subtitle: In which Thumper overshares regarding his penile piercing.

Susan’s Pet left this in the comments recently:

I just want to remind you that your anniversary of your PA piercing is coming up. I am not saying what you should do, but, you know, giving thanks where thanks are due would be all right.

First things first. How thoughtful of you, remembering like that! It totally would have gone over my head you not said something. Second, I’m not sure where thanks are due (other than to the skilled professional that punched a hole in my urethra to begin with and Belle for being OK with letting it happen), but sure, I’m giving them.

I suppose it’s not a bad time to stop and elaborate a bit on what living with a Prince Albert piercing it like. However, I think it’s also worth noting that the one attached to me is not your typical pierced cock. Most notably, of course, is the fact that (especially recently) it’s been safely ensconced in some kind of chastity device for the majority of the time. I suspect normal guys would have slightly different experiences.

So here’s the good stuff.

  • It’s really hot.
  • It’s a beautiful thing.
  • Under the right conditions, it allows for a more secure enforced chastity experience.

 
Of course, the first two points are totally subjective. I think a cock with a thick stainless hoop through the end is incredi-fucking-sexy. Belle, apparently, is OK with it but hasn’t ever let on that she’s as enamored of it as I am. As for the chastity security, as I’ve written fairly extensively, it doesn’t work for me the same way it works for most people (that is, with a cable strung though the hoop outside the tube and affixed by the device’s lock). When the Steelheart comes back with its custom PA fixing, I believe security will be pretty near perfect, but it’s taken me a year of trial and error to figure that out.

Now, the negatives.

  • Peeing is not as straightforward as before. I used to be able to pee through the CB6K at a urinal with a high degree of success, but the extra hole in the dick and the disruption of the stream by the jewelry has forever removed that option. Even when not locked, extra care has to be taken to ensure that the piss doesn’t splash back onto my pants or that a second stream doesn’t get started spraying in an odd direction. The funny thing about piss is, since it’s at your body temperature, you can’t always be sure where it’s going without keeping an eye on it. I’ve become fairly adept at successfully using a urinal (while unlocked, of course), but, just like border patrolling, the order of the day is “constant vigilance”. While we’re on the subject, I can also report that another quirky aspect of peeing while pierced is that separate streams can form from each hole (mostly through the natural one, of course) and the new hole is positioned perfectly to douse my scrotum when I’m sitting down. The way to avoid that is pretty much the same thing I do when standing up. By placing my finger behind the hole and pushing a bit of foreskin against the piercing, it will usually block the hole enough to make the stream just a steady drip. Now you know more than you ever wanted about the urination habits of Prince Albert.
  • On the relatively rare occasions I’ve had to masturbate with the ring in, I’ve found that it’s pretty easy to aggravate the tissue around and inside the urethra. For a long time, I assumed that this would go away in time as the flesh toughened up, but as Belle’s aggressive milking demonstrated just the other night, it appears to be a permanent risk. It’s entirely possible, I suppose, that a guy with a more normal masturbation schedule (or, for that matter, more plentiful opportunities to use his cock in any number of ways I can’t) would find the discomfort subsiding eventually, but that guy’s not me by a long shot. I find that if I leave my pointer finger more relaxed while masturbating and let it pass over or just graze the ring that the sensation is even more enjoyable than before I was pierced, but if I attempt to jack off the old fashioned way (all five fingers evenly grasping), I’m asking for trouble. Since the piercing healed, I haven’t experienced any discomfort from fucking, but then again, I also can’t say being pierced has significantly improved that sensation.

 
Currently, I mostly wear a 4ga trapped-ball ring. I started out at 8ga, slipped back to 10ga due to an unfortunate accident, then clicked up to 6ga for quite a while. I don’t think I’ll go above 4ga. I think anything bigger would look out of proportion. The thickness of 4ga is just about perfect, IMO.

After ten HNThumpers, I’ve never actually shown “the full monty”, as it were. I’ve shown the 6ga ring in detail, I’ve shown the cock obscured and distorted and secured (twice), but in trying to respect the “half nekkid” part of the HNT, I’ve never shown you the entire package in a straightforward way. Until today. I figure, after writing in nearly 900 words about my PA piercing, it’s only fair to let you take a peek. So here you go. Obviously, NSFW.

In balance, I have to say after my first year of piercedness that I’m happy I did it. It can be a bit of a pain causing complications and discomfort, but at the end of the day, I find it so hot that it’s totally worth living with the negative consequences.

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I am not dead!

Anyone who’s read this blog for a while knows that extended periods of quiet are signs of alarm. Not unlike a collie bursting into the room and barking like mad (which might lead you to look around for young Timmy, whose absence would then cause you to run off to check the local well/abandoned mine). In any event, I haven’t posted because a) there wasn’t all that much to talk about for a bit, and b) there were, in fact, issues.

The issues are basically the same we’ve gone over before and involve the fact that my internal submission engine requires a certain level of sexual frustration to remain engaged. Belle left for NYC immediately following my last post, which was fine because our sex the night before was outstandingly frustrating. However, for a variety of reasons, we didn’t do much of anything sexual from the time she got back through the next weekend. In addition, she wasn’t giving me any tasks to perform or otherwise flexing her domination over me (and, in fact, did several things I told her I’d be happy to do for her). By the time Sunday night rolled around and she fell asleep while watching the Vikings collapse in front of a national audience, my tank was full of fumes.

I laid there, listening to her sleep, and calmly thought through where we were. I, certainly, was not feeling it. She, it appeared, wasn’t feeling it. Not only that, she didn’t seem to have any desire to bring it back (and, of course, by “it” I mean our D/s dynamic). I wasn’t really mad or full of despair or anything like that. It seemed normal that after a year or so of messing around with this and after a several month period where she left me locked in a chastity device pretty much 24/7 that maybe the one or both of us would get our fill. I really wanted out of the CB6K. Once I felt I wasn’t being denied as much as detained, the bloom was off. Also, since living with the Steelheart for a while and even the chrome CB6K, the old clear CB6K is only barely erotic for me (and her, I think).

So, long story kinda but not really short, I decided to propose a break the next day. By “break” I meant no device, I can come whenever I want, I’m not submissive. At least for a while. Until we both wanted it back. That was the idea, anyway. Turns out, when I said it, she took it pretty hard. What seemed to me a logical extension of how we were living, to her, was a rebuke of sorts. I didn’t mean it that way and didn’t expect her to take it the way she did, but there it was. She gave me the key on Monday morning but was also obviously distressed to do so, so I gave it back to her and said we’d discuss it that night when we had a chance to talk.

Monday night came around and she removed the lock. I was very happy to be facing the prospect of taking it off, but it was still obvious to me that she was unhappy about it. She said it made her feel like she didn’t own the cock anymore. That wasn’t my intention. Really, all I wanted to do was take it out for a spin. Laying there, device still on but unlocked, and against what I wanted, I suggested she put the lock back on. She declined. I offered again. She declined again. Soon, I was practically begging her to put the lock back on. The deliciousness of the situation (me, begging to be relocked even though I really wanted out) was not lost on me and I found myself forcibly holding the device together as it strained against my erection. I finally told her to replace the lock just for the night. Whatever she wanted to do the next day, we’d do. Obviously, the device and the control it represents has developed into a potent symbol between us.

Next day, she let me out. Her period had just started, so she said we’d do the opposite of what’s normal and I’d be unlocked until she was done bleeding. However, we were not going to be on a full break. I was not allowed to come without her permission. I really did want an orgasm (more to the point, I wanted a whole fucking lot of them), but wanting out wasn’t the same as wanting to be out from under her control. Feeling full and unencumbered erections was, I admit, glorious. I also admit to doing what came naturally with those erections, though I never went all the way to the logical conclusion.

Last night, Belle started giving the cock some pleasant attention (mixed in with occasional and random strikes to the balls). It got hard again, really hard, and I wasn’t sure which I wanted more: the nice cock contact or the ball hitting. I rolled over and got onto all fours and she started to milk me like a cow. I closed my eyes and zoned out on the sensation of her hand moving over the hard cock. It didn’t take too long for me to start feeling the tickle of an orgasm bubbling up. I warned her, asking if she wanted me to come. She said I could.

Because I’m me, I didn’t think, “Oh, fuck, YES!” I thought, “Oh shit, not on the sheets!” I cupped my hand under the end of the cock just in time to catch the spurts, but doing so took my eye off the ball just long enough that I wasn’t able to fully enjoy the orgasm. Regardless, I really liked it. I wiped my hand off on my balled-up underwear, curled into her, and almost immediately fell deeply asleep, heavy scent of ejaculate hanging over the bed.

This morning, the PA piercing kinda hurts. She was pretty rough on the cock and the ring flopped around with a lot of force. I’m totally feeling it today, along with the normal post-orgasmic rush of additional horniness. One orgasm never seems to get it all out.

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New rule

Belle’s instituted a new rule. Turns out, she occasionally wants me to be more sexually assertive than the personage respecting protocols allow. I have tried to contain my urges to jump her bones out of deference to her position but apparently a girl likes to be a little more aggressively pursued. Unless she doesn’t. Since my mind-reading powers leave a lot to be desired, she’s created some guidelines for me to follow.

  • I am not allowed to come on to her within 72 hours of her last orgasm. She, of course, is still free to instigate something, but I’m to respect her personage for at least three days after she comes.
  • On the third night, I can try to seduce her (including putting my hands in places they aren’t normally allowed to go), but if she tells me she’s not interested I need to withdraw immediately and wait until the next day to make another move (or however long she prefers).

 
We started the first 72 hour clock that night. Contrary to popular opinion, people do have sex on Thanksgiving. As we went to bed, Belle brought out the key and let me out. It had been a long time since she had made use her cock, but I was oddly confident that I wouldn’t ruin the event with an unauthorized release. Since she was so hot for it, the whole adventure was over in about ten minutes. I never got close to coming, even though she was talking filth towards the end and that’s usually a sure-fire way to push me over the edge. Instead of baseball, I focused on work. Decidedly unsexy. In any event, she had a terrific time. Afterward, she allowed me to enter her and I did the old-fashioned “me on top” routine. Just like the old days, except I didn’t come of course. She allowed me to stay unlocked for the rest of the weekend, as long as I promised to behave (which, more or less, I did).

Last night, the 72 hour window opened. Combined with her leaving this morning for another work trip (this time only four days and only as far as NYC), I was highly expectational of getting the meat wet again before seeing it relocked for her absence. As soon as the TV went off and I turned to face her, I knew she wasn’t in the mood to fuck me. There was zero angst on my part and I would have been perfectly happy to simply roll over and go to sleep if that’s what she wanted, but I offered up Pink, her favorite vibrator, as an alternative. Turns out, she did want that, so I hopped out of bed, unwanted boner bobbing before me, to get her little plastic friend.

I started to prep her in the usual manner (licking her nipples, fingering her clit, etc.) and ruminated over the fact that my unlocked, rock hard, 100% available member was being neglected in favor of a this remarkable piece of technology. In the past, I might have been miffed, but the entire point of this exercise was her pleasure and the tool she preferred that night happened not to be the biocock. She knew I wanted her to fuck me, but she also knew what she wanted. I can’t say how happy it makes me that she picked it over me.

As usual, the little vibe that could brought her to a shuddering orgasm (repleat with rapid-fire exclamations of “Oh, fuck!”). As she basked, I was torn by the desire to feel myself inside her again and letting her continue to drive the event.

Eventually, I whispered tentatively into her ear, “Can I go inside you?”

I felt very much like I was intruding into her moment and I half expected her to say no. In retrospect, maybe she should have. But she didn’t. After a few more glowing moments, I climbed up and entered her hot wetness.

I quickly found myself within a hair’s breadth of coming. I looked into her eyes, deeply beseeching. I wanted to come so, so bad. Had she given me the word, it only would have taken another half stroke to pass the point of no return. But the word never came. She looked back at me and smiled.

“I’m very close to coming,” I admitted.

“Then you need to get out,” she calmly replied. It tore at me to do so, but I slowly withdrew and, on my knees between her legs, laid my head on her stomach, supplicating my desire to continue before her feminine will.

I rolled over onto my back next to her, panting, wet cock standing straight out. It throbbed with aching desire and, against any logic, I flexed it in an attempt to gain just a little more sensation. After a few moments, though, it started to lower, even as I tried to will it into continued erection. The heavy PA ring pulled the head down against my body and the rest of the shaft pulsed just a little lower with each beat of my heart. Eventually, it was still plump with blood but had lost its stiffness. The buzzing, conflicting desire racing through me started to subside. Impossibly, considering the intensity of my feelings just a few minutes before, I started to feel an almost post-orgasmic serenity descend over me. I was horny as hell, but started to feel sleepy. Content.

Facing her, I said, “Thank you so much. Thank you for letting me bring you to orgasm, thank you for letting me fuck you. Thank you for stopping me. Thank you so much.” My heart was brimming with devotion, affection, and love for her.

Then, we slept.

This morning, she put me back in the old CB6K. It’s a good thing, too, because I know I’m weak and, in my current condition, the temptation to play with her cock would be all-consuming. I am exactly as I should be. Totally and completely under her control.

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Moving right along

I’ve exchanged a few emails with Dietmar at Steelworxx. Not only is he making me a new and smaller A-ring, but he’s also working up a custom PA fixing. It’s similar to the regular one, except mine will run continuously from one post to the other (in a long U-shape) and be open on top (so it can be run through the PA ring). It won’t maintain the PA ring’s position at the bottom of the tube, but it will make it impossible (with the right ring) to fully remove the cock from the tube. It’s the same idea as the PA wire I fixed up a little while back, except in steel. It’ll look a little less MacGyver, a little more Cyberman.

I told Belle last night that, except for a day or two here and there to heal, she’s had me locked up almost continuously for a month (in three different devices, no less). She didn’t seem to think that was very interesting. Before our Mexico trip, I was locked up for a similar amount of time (though there was a 10 day to 2 week break around the trip, I think). I haven’t counted up the days with any specificity, but it seems like my default condition now is to be locked up with only special occasions where she lets me out. This is a fairly significant escalation over previous months where I’d be secured 50% of the time (or less). It would be 100% now, except for the occasional injuries.

This increased frequency is entirely attributable to Belle. There have been several times recently where, had I been able to choose, I would have stayed out but she was determined to put me in. I now believe she prefers to leave me locked up. All residual guilt or worry or insecurity seems to be gone. A year ago, I would have wanted nothing more. Now that it’s transpired, I have decidedly mixed feelings about it. It’s all good, of course. I wouldn’t have it any other way. But I now realize that 1) I really don’t have any control over wearing a device, and 2) it’s left the realm of über hawt fantasy and entered the more mundane world of the every day.

I said yesterday that I was “fully accepting that we’ll only have sex according to her needs.” This, too, is slightly different than my previous outlook. Before, I’d say something like I was “fully accepting that she controls our sex” and that’d be true, but adding the nuance that not only was she controlling it, but that it was only happening when she needed it is a new way of looking at it for me. Maybe I’ve talked around this before without knowing it or maybe it’s been assumed by my readers, but saying to one’s self that “I want sexual relief, but she’s not letting me have it” is very different than “I want sexual relief, but she doesn’t, so I’m not getting any.” A lot of this wraps back into the idea that my sexuality has been subsumed into hers, I guess. I’m sure I’m not saying it very well, but I think it’s amazing that even after more than year of playing around with this that it continues to evolve.

Last night, we tossed and turned quite a bit. She was dealing with jet lag while I was dealing with arousal. At one point, I wanted to wrap around her and feel the hard plastic press into her ass, but she was facing me and spooning a pillow. I couldn’t get a good vector and eventually rolled over to face the other direction. The cock was really hard, not because of any routine physiological reason, but because I was fucking horny. I wanted her so bad, but what “want” means I cannot say. My stifled needs and desires burned in my chest. And, I have to admit, it felt good.

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Belle’s back

I neglected to change into my acrylic PA ring before locking the old CB6K on. Truth is, I really like how the big steel ring looks and, since it’s visible now, I wanted to keep it in. Pure vanity. However, this means I’m no longer operating in stealth mode. Unless the cock is feeling a little porky and is pushing the ring down and holding it against the tube, the ring knocks around a bit. It’s not consistent and some times are worse than others, but there’s almost always some kind of sound being made.

I walked around most of the day yesterday with change in the pocket of my sweats to help cover the sound. This morning, I’m in jeans and can still hear it in there. Truth is, I kinda like that I’m making an odd sound. While I’d rather be quiet around the house, out in the wild it’s like I’m making a coded declaration of my position. It’s not like anyone who happens to pick up on the sound will think, “Is that a 4 ga captive ball ring I hear knocking around the inside of CB-6000 male chastity device!?” In fact, it’s not so obvious that anyone will think anything, but I can hear it and, occasionally, so with they and that, I must admit, gives me a perverse satisfaction.

Ironically enough, after I wrote those first two paragraphs, I had to leave my desk for several hours and locked my laptop’s screen using my screen saver. Upon returning, I found that the last person to unlock the screen was a user called “admin”. Not me. My office is on the small side, so I know exactly who “admin” is, though I’m not entirely sure why he’d need to access my computer. In any event, this post was up and visible to him as soon as the screen saver went away. I can only assume that he’s now wise to my little secret. For a moment there, I felt somewhat violated and pissed, but not right now. If my cover’s been blown, it’s not because I was being overt or obvious or anything. I trust he’d be discrete and not tell the world, but even if he did, I guess I really don’t care. It also helps that I can fire him if I want to.

In any event, Belle arrived home yesterday as previously reported. One small hiccup, though, in that I thought she was landing in the early afternoon when in reality she landed late morning. I was planning on using those hours to finish the laundry and clean up the whole house, so when she got there, everything would be perfect. Instead, the laundry was not folded and the sheets on her bed were still in the dryer and the kid’s playroom was a disaster. Regardless, it was really very nice having her back and there were many moments when we stopped and hugged and kissed and exchanged little bites on the neck for the rest of the day.

As we went to bed, the jet lag was hitting her kinda hard so I wasn’t expecting much beyond more kissing. Expecting, no, hoping, hell yeah. I’m back in the “proper” mindset now and fully accepting that we’ll only have sex according to her needs, so I would not have been disappointed had she wanted nothing more than to roll over and sleep it off. Turns out, though, she wanted to come.

Hearing her say the words, I felt like a greyhound jumping after the fake rabbit at a dog race. I quite literally leapt into action. I immediately started to run my hands over her body, especially those areas I’m not normally allowed to touch. She was immediately responsive and it wasn’t long before she asked me to go down on her.

Asked me, mind you! Like there was ever a question. Fucking hell, YES, I wanted to go down on her. I think it took about 4.5 seconds for me to get my tongue in her snatch. She maneuvered me into a position where I was able to eat her out while simultaneously reaching up to play with her nipples. That required me to lay on my stomach with the device (and it’s fully engorged contents) painfully pressed into the mattress, but the payoff was enormous. I could not get enough of her. It was all I could do to focus on the task at hand and not rub my face into her soft wetness. I had the palpable urge to mark myself with her scent. Even after she came (all too quickly), I laid with my face pressed against her. If I could have, I would have crawled up inside.

That power her pussy has over me – the way it consumes my thoughts – is completely a byproduct of the denial. Of course, I was always a fan, but now, I’m in fucking awe of it. Its taste and its smell and its heat – everything. It’s the embodiment of her power over me. It radiates her feminine will over my actions and I’m left able to do little more than worship it when given the chance.

This morning, I asked her if she let me pleasure her because I was so apparently desirous to do so. She looked at me out of the corner of her eye and said, “I don’t do anything I don’t want to do.” I did that to her because that’s what she wanted. Plus, she felt I deserved a reward for maintaining the house so well while she was gone.

Hooray for rewards!