Tag: chastity

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A conundrum

The fear of death by blood loss kept me out of the device Friday night. As I said, I was fairly upset that I had, once again, done something that had forced me out of chastity prior to Belle wanting me out. I really want to play by the rules with these things and the rules state she decides, not me. She said she wouldn’t punish me since it was an accident, but I felt bad just the same. I decided to make the best of it and try to get a good night’s sleep without the usual early morning bulgefest.

At about 4:30, I woke up anyway. Not because my erection was encased in plastic but because it wasn’t. The change in sensation was enough to throw me off and there I was, as usual, awake and thinking about a boner I couldn’t do anything with. I was, however, happy to see the ‘lil gusher from the night before had been sealed and no more blood had leaked from it. Over the course of the next few hours, I tried to find a comfortable position for my big, stupid hard-on and drifted in and out of sleep.

At about 6:30 or so, we were both awake and I was nestled into her, trying not to impale her on my early morning, sex deprived firmness. We continued a conversation we started the night before about how were we feeling with where the relationship was evolving. I told her I need to find ways to serve her better. That somehow my submissive inclinations were pointing me towards needing more ways to please her and that I wanted her to help me find those ways. There was a lot of close contact and kissing and me feeling dreamily subbie. Her body, being so close, tempted me and my hands wandering all over it.

At this point, she rolled onto her back and moved her arms away from herself. I took this as a sign she wanted me to go further, though I didn’t get clarification on what she wanted. It felt a little to me like she was opening herself for me to enjoy. I can’t say why, but I sensed a tenseness in her that didn’t suggest she was really in the mood. I thought to say she didn’t need to do anything she didn’t want to, but the words never came out.

After a few moments, my mouth was on her breast and my hand was on her snatch and it really became clear she wasn’t ready. I pulled back and asked if this was what she wanted. No, not yet. Damn, I should have said something when I thought to. We held each other again and she said sometimes, that’s all she wanted. I said she should only do what she wanted and no more. I had assumed she wanted what I was doing. I should have asked and she should have said something. We came to a new understanding: I am no longer allowed to initiate sex without expressed permission. I can ask or she can offer, but I’ll never assume again. I wanted her to understand that this meant I would not try to read her or seduce her or in any way take the initiative without permission. In essence, I was finally and fully letting go of the last threads I still held of the traditional male prerogative of sexual initiation. When it came to sex, she was now fully and completely in control. She said that was exactly what she wanted.

Later in the morning, after the kids were settled with their media and food, we were back in the bedroom. Now it was time for me to make her come. Since the cock was unexpectedly available, she wanted me to fuck her with it. I told her I was worried and asked to use the desensitizing gel. No, that was no good for her because it would mean using a condom and she like to feel my skin. OK, super. I guess we’ll do it your way.

She was very ready for me. I’m not sure what it was that got her so wet (perhaps it was the thought that she now held all the cards with regard to sex), but just the act of sliding into her nearly made me shoot my load. I tried to keep most of my attention focused on her upper body and only let every third or fourth processor cycle think about what I was doing down below. I was fucking her sort of shallowly hoping that might help me keep control, but she started to move her hips counter to my thrusts and I found myself going deeper and deeper. Soon, my cock was fully engaged with her snatch and I felt the need to pull the emergency brake. A very tiny amount of my fluid spilled out, but I had stopped the orgasm.

The entire time I was trying to keep the lid on my orgasm, she kept her hips moving so that I never really stopped fucking her even though I was trying to stay still. I started in again, more slowly than before, but that caused our rhythm to be out of whack. She wanted faster and, honest to god, so did I, but if I had tried I’d lose control. She stopped me and said it was no good. She wanted me to go faster but knew if I did I’d come.

Belle’s the kind of girl that, once you start her down the path to orgasm, any deviation or delay could cause the entire trip to go bad. With that in mind, I quickly slid down her torso and pressed my mouth against her pussy. My arms were wrapped around her legs allowing my hands to pinch and play with her nipples while my tongue danced over and dove into her depths. I expected to taste my own semen, but couldn’t really make it out mixed with her juices. Eventually, she came really hard. It was a terrific orgasm for her, even though getting there had been a little messy.

I had moved back up her body so I could kiss her while she basked in her afterglow. I could feel my still wet, chilly dick slap fatly against her invitingly warm pussy. After giving her a respectful amount of basking time, I asked if I could go back inside her. She said yes and I slid in the best I could without a full erection. She was everything I knew she would be: warm, wet, amazing. It was a supremely indulgent moment and I simply enjoyed being enveloped by her. After a few moments of this bliss, she started biting and sucking on my neck in the way that makes my knees wobbly. I experienced the unusual sensation of becoming fully erect while motionless and inside her. Jesus, the biting felt good. I told her to bite harder. Harder. Oh fuck, harder! She pulled away, leaving me panting and spent (and with two giant monkey bites on each shoulder). I rolled off, hard yet satisfied.

So now we’re left with a conundrum. She likes it best when it’s my cock that makes her come. However, she won’t let me use the numbing gel since that would mean I’d need to use a rubber and she wants to feel my skin. As I have gone on and on about, I’d really like to use a strap on with her, but no dice. She want to feel me. I’ve tried to say it will be me since I’ll be doing the fucking, but she’s not interested (damn it). All she wants is my naked, hard cock but that’s the one thing I can’t use in the way she wants me to. I have no solution. Unless she’ll allow us to experiment with other options, I’m not sure what to do. I want her to be as fully satisfied as possible but am physically incapable of doing so while maintaining her control over my orgasm. Maybe with time and practice I’ll develop the technique necessary to become the lover she needs.

After the sex, I cleaned up and she locked me back into the CB-6000. That’s where I am now, way, way more frustrated and turned-on than I’ve ever been after only a single week denied. She still hasn’t told me when I’ll be released from the cage, though she knows the date. She has no idea when I’ll come again, so I’m operating under the assumption that it won’t be before we get back from our trip – two more weeks minimum. Since I only get nine more orgasms this year, it’s entirely possible I won’t come again until March.

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Blood

I am in a never-ending battle with my body hair. I really hate most of it. Not so much that it’s there, but that it doesn’t grow where and how I want it to. It just sort of pops up in random places and patches. I want things to be a certain way, and my body hair just doesn’t care.

So that’s why, before my daily chastity hygiene regimen, I was using the razor to neaten up the stubble growing around the device. I’ve cleaned up my pubes literally hundreds of times, though not usually while locked up. And, because it’s a razor on uneven and stretchy skin, I’ve nicked myself plenty of times. No big deal.

This time, Belle had headed off to the airport to pick up her parents which left me time to clean myself up for whatever she might want when she got back. I had already pulled the skin out from under the CB6K ring and shaved off the stubble and had moved to my scrotum. I love a smooth scrotum and its hair in particular is difficult to maintain since it seems to start growing out 12 minutes after you shave it off.

Next thing I knew, there was blood running down my hand and dripping onto the floor. Not just a little, but a steady drip drip drip of bright crimson. I felt nothing. No pain at all. I pulled out a handful of kleenex and sopped up the blood trying to find the source. Apparently, I had made a teeny, weenie, itsy, bitsie, infinitesimal (you get the idea?) little, tiny nick on my scrotum. In fact, the work “nick” makes it sound bigger than it was. The hole in my skin was no bigger than a flea on the butt of the mayor of Whoville. It was small. But blood coursed out of it. I kept dabbing at it waiting for it to stop, but it didn’t. It just came and came.

For a few seconds, I started to panic. I had nothing with which to stop the blood if it didn’t stop by itself. I would apply pressure by holding toilet paper over the cut for a while only to see the blood well back up once I pulled it away. I called Belle and asked her if we had anything to stop bleeding with, but didn’t really get into what was bleeding. We had nothing, so I asked her to stop on the way home to pick up a styptic pencil. In the mean time, I used one of our grabby clothepins to hold the toilet paper over the wound. That way, at least, I could put the kids to bed without blood running down my leg. So there I was, walking around the house, wearing my chastity device and a bunch of toilet paper pinched onto my bloody scrotum with a clothespin. Very sexy.

Belle came home with the styptic and met me in the bathroom. Seeing my condition, she was afforded the opportunity to roll her eyes at me and point out how high-maintenance I was. Yes, but worth it, right? At that point, I had had the TP clamped over the cut for at least an hour, but as soon as I lifted the clothespin, the blood came right back up. I could see it actually pulse out of me with each heartbeat. Visions of Dan Ackroyd in drag danced in my head. I applied the moistened tip of the styptic to the cut and…nothing. Now I had a bloody styptic pencil. Fuck. I started to wonder what the smallest wound was that I could bleed to death through. Would I need to go to the emergency room? How would I explain this? Well, at least it wasn’t a duct-taped hamster stuck in my rectum (Which, BTW, is why I think girbels are better for that since they have those handly tails. Just sayin’).

Belle suggested we remove the device. It wasn’t really in the way, but dealing with the wound would be easier without it. I really didn’t want it off since the last time I was locked up I came out early through similar (though less Terentino-esque) stupidity on my part. The thought occurred to me that even if we could stop the bleeding, this same skin would be stretched tight in a few hours by my nocturnal erections pulling on my balls. Would that reopen the cut? Would I wake up in the morning laying in a sopping pool of my own blood? I felt a great deal of disappointment as she unlocked the little chrome padlock and I slipped the tube off my dick. Fuck, again.

I reapplied the styptic and got the same non-result. This was really starting to piss me off. The cut was so little but wouldn’t stop being a tiny fountain of blood. I can only assume I nicked a blood vessel just under the thin skin. I had never seen anything like it.

Pulling back the tissue from the cut, I thought it looked like it might actually be slowing. I applied more styptic. Yes, it was. Big exhale. A few minutes later, it had stopped. The great bloody ball crisis of ’09 had finally come to an end.

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Beware the biting rings

I’m on my sixth day back in lock-up and the CB-6000 and I are starting to settle in with each other again. I’m using the middle-sized ring exclusively now and most of the time it’s fine but the nights can still be a little challenging. I like the fact that the entire device seems not to droop as much and it’s definitely more secure, but those sharp corners were biting pretty hard this morning. Even though I only woke up twice (which is a 33% improvement over the previous few nights), it seemed like the 5:00 AM wake up call was more intense than any of the others from the previous week.

I’m still trying to figure out what causes some nights to be harder than others. I lube up the same and make sure my bladder’s empty, etc. The only difference between last night and the others was Belle finally let me bring her to orgasm (her first in five days). All the other nights were foot or back massages. I should keep an eye on that. I wonder if experiencing direct sexual frustration at bedtime (as opposed to the general background noise of sexual frustration I float through all the time) leads to more nocturnal discomfort? Worth watching.

So anyway, I woke up all painful and whiny and told Belle as much (including that I’m in the smaller ring). She asked me why I torture myself like that and I told her I really would rather consider it her torturing me since it was entirely her will that had me in there to begin with and that it would be better for me if she referred to it that way. She said, yeah, it was because of her that I was imprisoned and that it was too bad she wasn’t going to give me the key so I could move up to a bigger ring. *bing*

Upon her saying that, it was possible for me to time exactly how long it takes a sexually stimulating thought in my brain to convert into an order for my cock to get hard(er) and then for the cock to actually carry out that command and further engorge since about a heartbeat after her words entered my ears I felt a ratcheting up of pain in my groin and let out a little whimper. Of course, now I’m worried she’ll take pity on me and let me out soon. It’s not that I really, really like the pain and discomfort (no, I only really like them) or that I’m in any way trying to control indirectly when she locks me up and for how long, but I’m just getting past that part in the lock-up period where my flesh is adjusting to being encased all day long (evening issues excepted). I’d much rather be locked up for fewer, more lengthy sessions than more frequent, shorter ones. She knows when I’m getting out, though she won’t tell me. I’m thinking it’ll either be this weekend or just prior to our trip. I have to admit, I’m interested in staying in until we get back before being let out since I’ve never been in that long and would like to see what it’s like. Of course, that’s entirely her decision.

Other than that, I’m just trying to get past the first-week-of-no-orgasm hump. I don’t think I’ve been locked up for this part of the orgasmless period and the combination of the sensory mind-fuck of chastity on top of my body trying to absorb all the unused hormones has been interesting. As I touched on the other day, my sexual frustration and submissiveness are both running higher than I would have expected at thing point. Even Belle’s noticed the difference (in a good way, I think).

I’ve posted before that, when I’m wearing the device, I think everyone’s looking at my crotch all the time. I still think that, but I’m starting to not really care as much. It’s not that I want to go around and tell all my employees what I have in my pants, but by the same token, being too hung up on what they see or think they see is unproductive. I do my best to make sure I’m situated as unobtrusively as possible when I stand up and walk around, but otherwise really don’t care as much as I did before. Worst case, they think I’m sporting a big fat boner all day (it’s not too far from the truth). There are worse things.

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You learn something every day

Guess what I found out this morning? Gold Bond Medicated Body Lotion contains menthol. Guess when I found that out? After putting it on a Q-Tip and using it to lubricate the tube of my CB6K. Guess what else I found out? I liked it.

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Back in the plastic

Second full day in the cage. It’s been a few weeks since I was last in and there’s all these little things I need to relearn each time. Like, don’t forget to put a bunch of Q-Tips in my pocket before I leave in the morning and which underwear hides the tube best.

I think I’ve spent enough time in with my piercing to say that it definitely has a negative impact on hygiene. Back before the PA was put in, I could pee standing up and otherwise align all the holes such that a minimum of urine got into the cage. Now, depending on how misaligned things are, I can actually feel the warmth all over inside the tube. The urine sprays all around inside it and I’m left needing to clean myself much more often and thoroughly than before.

On the plus side, the piercing is healed enough that it can take some pulling so I think I’m ready for a PA cable. I took a trip to my closest Home Depot and couldn’t find the simple pieces I needed to construct it, so I might just bite the bullet and buy one. I am concerned about prolonged pulling on the piercing, though. My dick will often pull back up the tube about half way. If it was secured by a cable and that cable basically kept the ring in my piercing at the opening of the tube, I can imagine periods of persistent pulling. Not sure if this would lead to damage after a while or cause the hole to migrate or just plain hurt.

Mentally, I find myself more aroused, frustrated, and submissive than I would have expected only a few days after coming (especially in such a spectacular way). I’m not nearly as bad as I was that morning Belle allowed me my orgasm, but I can feel myself getting there faster than usual. I think this could be caused by a few different things. One, I now know the path to this mindset better than before. Also, I just came from a really sweet subbie place and would very much like to get back there. Also also, Belle usually does not put me right into the device after coming, so the constant reminder of her control coupled with my inability to in any way interact with the cock has quickly reminded me of my position on the sexual org chart.

She still doesn’t know (or is not saying) how long I’ll be in here. The first logical window of opportunity for escape would be next Thursday. We’ll be leaving on a family vacation early next Friday and I can see her being nice and letting me out beforehand. However, I’ve already fallen behind in our Covenant’s requirement that I be physically chastised at least 50% of the time. If she left me in there over the vacation and let me out when we returned, I’d be back on schedule. We’ll have to see which Belle wakes up next Thursday; the sweet one or the one that likes to rip clothespins off my nipples.

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We’re number 1

Guess who’s got the first link that comes up when you Google “birdlock chastity“? Or “birdlock silicone chastity device” or “birdlock silicone” or any number of combinations of those words you can think of? Yep, yer lookin’ at him. [UPDATE: Nope. No you aren’t. Not anymore. Oh well, it was swell while it lasted.] I think this speaks more to the product being new and not well represented on the web than it does to my stature as the sexually frustrated voice of my generation, but it’s kind of fun just the same. I can tell you a lot of people are looking for info on the Birdlock. I can also tell you there isn’t much out there.

A member on Fetlife remarked that he thought the images of men wearing the Birdlock found on its site looked Photoshopped. Personally, I don’t think so, but it’s true that the images they have up are not very detailed and don’t show the product up-close and in use. One in particular (of the guy’s reflection in the mirror) seems quite odd. Also, the images of how to put it on have had the body of the wearer messed with in a weird way. I would recommend they put up some clear, close-up cock shots with the device in situ and dispense with the obfuscation and lifestyle snaps.

Also of note with regard to the Birdlock is Tickleberry’s notice about demand.

Please Note: Due to the exceptionally high demand for the BirdLock, we are sorry but delivery is anticipated to be 7 – 10 days.

Sounds very British, doesn’t it? I can’t be sure, but I think that delay period was longer earlier in the day. Obviously, this device has struck a chord with the deprived, depraved, and denied members of our human family. Hopefully, it lives up to the hype.

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New bird on the block

Over on FetLife, I found out about a new chastity device on the market called the Birdlock made by a company called Novamedia. At least I think it’s new since Tickleberry just started carrying it and the manufacturer’s website appears to be fairly new. Why it’s called “Birdlock” is anyone’s guess. The company that makes it is from Switzerland so maybe it’s a translation thing (the site’s English copy looks like it was translated by a machine which is the only explanation for the page that says the Birdlock fits perfectly with the male face).

This device is interesting to me for a couple of reasons. First, it’s made of silicone, not polycarbonate like the CB-X000 devices or stainless steel like other trapped-ball devices. This should make the Birdlock significantly more comfortable to wear than my CB6K or a similar stainless device since it will give and stretch with movement. Another benefit of the silicone is that it would probably lead to less of a profile when worn beneath clothing. I’m assuming the tube would collapse and be less noticeable than the hard plastic of the CB6K. Additionally, it’s basically all one piece with a simple locking strap so it appears to be a lot less bulky and complicated than the CB6K (which has six separate pieces to assemble, not counting the lock). Fitting this should be a snap since it has no extra rings or spacers and obviously the issue with tube splitting would not be a factor for a single piece of silicone. Finally, all this simplicity seems to have helped make it one of the more inexpensive devices on the market (but not a lot cheaper than a careful shopper will pay for a CB6K).

On the downside, I wonder if the stretchiness would allow some manual stimulation to be felt through the tube. I can see how the device would reign in an erection (though more forgivingly than the CB6K), but, as I said on FetLife, one of the more interesting features of the hard tube is that it’s impossible to give oneself any kind of penile stimulation while wearing it (at least, once one has a hard-on). I can imagine the Birdlock would at least allow some pressure to be felt through the tube making a form of masturbation possible. This would not, in an of itself, be a show-stopper for me, but it would seem to remove one of the control and bondage features I appreciate in the CB6K. Novamedia trumpets the fact that, since it stretches, nocturnal erections are less likely to wake a wearer up in the middle of the night. When I first started wearing my device, this would have been a very welcome feature, but now I’ve come to appreciate this feeling. Once I wear it for a few days, I sleep right though them or only wake up a bit. Either way, there’s a security blanket-type thing I get from the feeling of the tube clamped around my meat that I would miss if the tube was too forgiving. Also, since it is basically a one-size-fits-all design, it’s possible it won’t fit some. I assume it will stretch enough for most guys, but if it’s too small, it won’t stretch smaller. This won’t be an issue for my totally average penis, but it may be for some. Finally, as anyone with a silicone iPod case can tell you, silicone can pick up a lot of dirt and discoloration through use, especially in lighter colors. I would be concerned about the clear and glow-in-the-dark(!) models discoloring after a while (a point I didn’t think of until Belle mentioned it). A nice thing about solid poly is you can make it very clean.

Chances are, I will eventually get one of these new Birdlocks. The potentially lower profile of the device and its simplicity outweigh the possible downsides enough that I should at least give it a try.

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To O or no

I woke up Saturday, the day I would be allowed to come, deeply, deeply horny. More, I think, than I’ve been so far in the four months or so in which Belle’s been denying me orgasms. I spooned into the her still-sleeping form, doing my best not to wake her in that poky, annoying, denied male way, but did, in fact, place a hard, protruding, poky piece of meat between us. My first instinct was to be the eighth dwarf (Gropey), but give myself credit that she more or less woke up on her own. It wasn’t that I thought she was going to give it to me right then, but the day had dawned, and every little part of me knew today’s the day.

She had a little surprise for me. I was to be the beneficiary of her special, 24-hour, two-for-one orgasm sale! She was going to let me get one in the morning, and another in the evening. Holy. Shit.

Of course, even when I get to come, I come last. This time, Belle wanted to get her orgasm from the cock. Any time she has me put my dick in her after a couple of weeks of denial, I get worried. I placed myself in the zone and focused on her experience as much as possible. I could feel myself slide in and out of her, but in trying to ensure her orgasm came first, it didn’t feel like fucking as much as a side effect of making her happy. It’s hard to explain, but the sensation seemed to be routing through a different set of neurons or something. In any event, I was miles from coming when she started to approach her own orgasm. As usual, her peaking excitement caused mine to start to rise. She started to make shallow, short little moans and raise her hips to meet the thrusting of mine and I suddenly felt myself coming at the same time she was. Instead of thinking, “Oh, cool! We’re coming at the same time!” I thought, “Oh shit, I’m coming and she’s not done yet!” My orgasm started, but I clamped down on it as soon as I felt it. Once she was done, it was my turn, and I immediately felt the dregs of my orgasm come spilling out.

I couldn’t even tell at first if I had come. I eventually decided I had, though poorly, based on how I felt. Beforehand, I had been craving some abuse and feeling very submissive, but I could sense that those feelings were somewhat lessened. The idea of being hurt didn’t turn me on as much and I definitely felt a shift in my submissiveness. So, yeah, I came, but it was a really crappy orgasm.

Belle told me afterward that she knew I was going to screw it up (her exact words) which is why she offered the two-for-one. She wanted me to have a good orgasm and suspected correctly that my first crack at it would suck.

Night came and I was ready for the main event. This time, her orgasm was achieved a little differently. She wanted me to finger her but, before I could get there, she started to finger herself. I was working her tits while she was working her clit. Feeling left out, I started to fuck her with my fingers. Using this cooperative finger-fuck method, she came quietly yet hard. One of her more intense orgasms.

My turn started and I could tell I was already in the wrong frame of mine. I had a hard time staying hard. She was doing her best with scratching and pinching and hair pulling, but it was all having the opposite effect of what she intended. Eventually, I became too flaccid to stay in her and had to roll off and take a little break. After a bit of stroking I was able to get back in the saddle. She focused more on my nipples this time and that really worked for me. My orgasm, when it finally came, was almost feminine. Instead of spiking like a big exclamation point, it built slowly and evenly over an extended period. I started breathing harder and faster as I felt it get closer. Once I started, it felt like I just kept shooting wave after wave into her. So much so, that it spilled out of her and backed-up all over me. This was it. The kind of head-exploding orgasm that makes all the denial and frustration pay off.

These two experiences make me think I have a wiring problem. Well, not so much a problem as much a need to relearn how to come. My denial has trained me to stifle my “natural” need to orgasm each time I have sex to such an extent that I seem to be shying away from coming even when I’m allowed to do so. I need to figure out how, when she’s given me the green light, to allow myself to reroute to the old circuits and just enjoy it.

It also makes me think this behavior might have something to do with all the stories about extended chastity causing erectile dysfunction. While I haven’t been locked-up for a few weeks (but will be by the end of today), the same kind of dynamics are in play. No orgasm, no opportunity to orgasm, and, in effect, positive reinforcement for not orgasming. I’m not at all surprised that I’m experiencing these issues since my brain is by far the largest, most complicated, and most important sexual organ I have. I can see how what’s happened to me could happen to others and lead them to think that they’re dealing with physical damage rather than the manifestation of a psychophysical issue.

In any event, I came! WOO-HOO! Last night’s was one of the best orgasms I’ve had, like, ever. Belle will lock me up sometime today and hasn’t decided how long I’ll be in. According to our covenant, I need to be locked up for half the year and have so far only seen the inside of the polycarbonate for 12 days in 2009, so I expect at least a few weeks. If I was to guess, I’d say at least until after she’s had her period. Also, she reminded me I only get to enjoy nine more orgasms this year. Divide nine by eleven and you’ll find I will have to go for more than a month a couple of times.

Plenty of time to experiment with with the wiring.

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Five and five-eighths

Ranat over on Beyond the Hills posted a terrific rant entitled Big Cocks and Why They Are Stupid. Here’s a sample:

Oh, and let us segue into the idiotic myth of the infinitely stretchy continuum of the vagina that can somehow magically accommodate anything. Reality check: it ends. Ultimately, the vagina has a finite length. You hit the cervix, squeeze into the deep spots on the side, and you’re done. Can’t go any farther. I can only speak from personal experience, as I have not put anything up anyone else’s cunt but my own, but to tell you more about my internal proportions than you ever wanted to know, more than five inches? Impossible. Utterly. Five. Inches. Four on a sore day. Five and a quarter on a particularly stretchy day. Do you have any idea how annoying it is that the standard size for dildos is seven inches?!?!?

This tickles me for a number of reasons. First, it makes me recall a question once posited by my boyfriend in high school. I paraphrase, but it went something along the lines of since guys are so hung up on length, do you suppose girls sit around and talk about depth? He also says I at one time said my dick was bigger than his and I suppose I may have said this, but I honestly have no recollection of it, and besides, he’s extraordinarily well proportioned, so I don’t know why I’d make such a demonstrably wrong comment. Usually, when I say things that are wrong, I try to make them difficult if not impossible to prove. It’s kinda stupid to be laying in bed with a guy and say your boner’s longer than his when, well, they’re right there.

The other reason I find Ranat’s rant funny is I was just measuring my erect penis the other day. I know this sounds fishy, but I had a really good reason. As I’ve mentioned a few times, I’m seriously hung up on this idea that Belle will someday make me fuck her with a strap-on while I’m in chastity. To that end, I was dildo shopping and trying to find one that more or less matched my size (like Ranat, Belle is disinterested in a seven-inch wonder schlong). For those keeping score at home, this one’s not too far off.

Whilst measuring, I was surprised to find I was not as long as I thought I was. To the best of my recollection, I am six inches long. The handful of times I had measured before, I was always six inches on the nose (or whatever). This time, I was about five and five-eighths. I have to admit, this bothered me, even though Belle (the only person who really matters) finds it to be a perfect five and five-eighths. In fact, it’s been the perfect length for every women I’ve ever been with. I can even remember tickling a few cervixes, so anything more would have been too much, which is exactly what Ranat was saying to begin with. I’m also comforted by the fact that, according to Wikipedia, I am positioned at the very tip top of the bell curve when it comes to erect length and girth. Yay for normal distribution.

So, the old boyfriend’s question and Ranat’s post got me wondering what the average female depth is. Turns out the average aroused vagina is between five and six inches long. In other words, perfect for my Mr. Winky. But what’s really funny is how differently vaginal depth and penis length are discussed on Wikipedia. There is exactly one paragraph (that I could find) dealing with vaginal depth. And here it is:

The human vagina is an elastic muscular canal that extends from the cervix to the vulva. Although there is wide anatomical variation, the length of the unaroused vagina is approximately 6 to 7.5 cm (2.5 to 3 in) across the anterior wall (front), and 9 cm (3.5 in) long across the posterior wall (rear). During sexual arousal the vagina expands in both length and width. Its elasticity allows it to stretch during sexual intercourse and during birth to offspring. The vagina connects the superficial vulva to the cervix of the deep uterus.

Notice no mention of what the aroused state’s length is, just that it gets longer when wet. Keep in mind that that paragraph is just a small part of the main vagina article. Now, contrast that with the penis. Penis length has been dedicated an entire article all its own. It has ten (count ’em, ten) sections. How to measure the penis, studies on its size, its size at birth, how its size changes with age, differences between flaccid and erect lengths (with pictures), how to enlarge it through surgery, historical, modern, and popular perceptions of its size, etc., etc. I mean, come on guys! Obsess much?

Turns out, there is an approved way to measure one’s penis and I wasn’t using it the other day. It’s entirely possible I am six inches or I’m only five and a half. Either way, it doesn’t matter. Just like Mary Poppins, it’s practically perfect in very way.