Tag: chastity

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Carnivorous butterflies

It’s obvious, based on my last two posts, that there’s a certain amount of conflict within me. I guess this is to be expected. I am profoundly horny and deeply frustrated. Perhaps more so than at any time in my life. I have never felt so submissive or more easily manipulated.

For those keeping score at home, it’s now been eight days since my last orgasm and I’ve been in lockup for six. In addition, for various reasons, I have not been able to engage Belle in any significant sexual play in several days. I am left with no outlet. No way for my seed to spill, no pleasurable sensations for my meat, and no emotional release through satisfying my Belle. My chest is filled with quivering, delicate butterflies yearning to get out and consume human flesh. It is torture.

But let’s be real. Don’t for even one second think I’m not the happiest, horniest little bunny in the forest.

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WTF was that all about!?

OK, all that “gee, wouldn’t it be swell never to come again” crap from earlier today is out the window.

Belle had a work thing to go to so was home later than usual. As soon as she got home and was in my sight, I wanted her. I wanted her so badly. I managed to contain myself for a few minutes, but as she was standing next to me sorting through the junk mail, I kissed her. Deeply and wetly, sucking on her lips and breathing in her smell mixed with the odor of cheap bar food and wine. In fact, I more than wanted her. I needed her.

After a few moment of kissing, I staggered off to the bathroom and noticed that in that short time, with nothing more than the kissing, I had managed to leak precum into the device. Thick, sticky, and clear. I’m not normally a copious producer of precum, so this was somewhat surprising.

In bed later, she informed me I was to attend to her grooming. She allows me to keep her pubic hair trimmed and tonight I was to go down there and play barber. This was after my basically begging her to let me out of the device. I really really really need to feel my hard cock in my hand. I want so badly to stroke myself, knowing full well I’m not going to come but just desperately needing to feel the sensation of a free and happy erection. She said no and told me to get trimming. I went to work, moaning slightly at the sight of her pussy knowing all I could do was groom it and not touch it or otherwise play. Her aroma was intoxicating.

After, when the trimmer and towel and all the other grooming accoutrement had been put away and she was once more in my arms, I begged again for release. She again said no, that I wasn’t getting out until Saturday. Oh, and I wasn’t going to come once I did get out, even though she had previously told me I would. She said she was going to ride her cock and I was going to get nothing. And then I realized. I really did want to come. Really and truly. All that rubbish about not coming from earlier? Well, it’s fine to go on like that when she’s not around, but once I was in her presence and could feel the small of her back and taste her mouth and inhale the aroma of her womanhood and she said I wasn’t going to get to come…well, something in me went click. I will do whatever it takes to get an orgasm on Saturday.

Whatever. It. Fucking. Well. Takes.

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Big day

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

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

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

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Broken bunny

I slept about 2 hours last night. Yes, I seem to talk about sleeping a lot, but that’s when the roosters come to…well, roost, isn’t it? Last night wasn’t about discomfort in the chastity device, though. It was about my own body turning on me.

It’s been six days since my last orgasm and four days locked up in the CB6K. I’ll say again that many old hands at chastity and orgasm denial will laugh at my proclamation of six and four days as anything like meaningful milestones, but for me they are. Not only have I not had a release since last Wednesday, I haven’t been allowed to engage in any meaningful sexual activity with Belle since Saturday. That night, after I brought her to climax with my mouth, she teased me mercilessly in an interesting new (for us) way.

After her orgasm, I wanted her to caress my stretched balls and perineum (since my encased cock was unable to receive stimulation). I really wanted her to feel how hard I was and how strained I was in her device. Instead, she touched me everywhere but where I craved she would. I was on all fours above her and constantly trying to reposition myself so my cock would be where her hand was only to see her hand move elsewhere. It was excruciating and she knew it. It left me very, very aroused.

Sunday night, it was more of the same. No touchy the cocky. I wasn’t quite as horny afterward, but I was still running pretty warm. Last night, we talked a lot and she used her nails on me and bit me a little. Also, she said she really wanted to feel my cock in her, but that it was not to be. Maybe tonight (which means, of course, she’ll need to release me if only for a little while). Three nights of teasing led to one night of little sleep.

Basically, the lust – combined with the confinement of the device – finally got to me. I awoke about 30 minutes after we went to sleep with my brain buzzing. I spent some time online reading a few blogs and browsing FetLife which eventually brought me to this video of runied orgasms. Well, needless to say, sleep was out of the question after watching that. Read some more sites and eventually posted my first entree into pornographic fiction before laying in bed for hours and feeling sorry for myself. I almost woke her to beg for release since I knew 12.6 seconds after cumming I’d fall deeply asleep, but I didn’t bother her. I just laid there and buzzed. Until 3:00 in the morning.

Maybe I can come home early today and take a nap.

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Montreal, Part I

A couple of weeks ago when Belle was out of town, I found myself laying in bed with my imagination running wild. I had just woken up and wasn’t fully awake. As I lay there in that groggy state, I allowed an actual event – a trip we took together several years ago – to merge with fantasies being produced by my hormone-soaked brain. The vividness with which this tale spun out in my head was remarkable. Before I lost any of the detail and texture, I tried to commit as much of it as possible to memory.

In the distant past, I tried my hand at fiction. Once or twice, even erotic fiction. That, however, was long ago. What’s presented here is my first stab at anything of this sort in close to 20 years. It may be good, or it may not. You may like it, or you may not.

I think it’s important to point out at this juncture that none of the things related here actually happened. Also, I’m not saying by writing this out that I want any or all of these things to happen to me. This is porn. Porn is fantasy. There are elements of what’s described here that I find extremely arousing. However, at it’s best, porn is a cartoon-like caricature of real life. Maybe that’s the difference between “erotic” and “porn”. Erotic is closer to possible while porn is obviously not. Who knows? In any event, here’s my first stab at it. Please feel free to let me have it in the comments.

Continue reading “Montreal, Part I”

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Post-Election Erection

With both Virginia and Florida going Obama’s way, I dodged a bullet and stayed free. Until, that is, she had a different idea. She started her period and decided that, as long as she’s imprisoned by biology, I’ll be imprisoned by technology. Seems fair to me.

The other day over on FetLife, I started a topic looking for advice regarding my previously mentioned issues with sleeping while locked up. Lot’s of good advice over there, but the best comment came from chastitygoddess who said:

As others have said, it takes some time to adjust. But what is important is you re-channel your feelings from ‘throbbing, painful erections’ in your device to relishing the delight of ‘throbbing manhood held in your keyholders embrace.’

She’s absolutely right, of course. And I think that’s where I am. It’s not that I don’t like the feeling of being encased in chastity – I absolutely do relish it – it’s that it was keeping me up and making me lose sleep. Until last night.

I awoke just once (that I can remember) and didn’t get out of bed until after Belle’s alarm went off. Of course, I had major morning wood. It was so bad, in fact, that I couldn’t even pee. My shaft was squeezed shut by the trapped erection. I was able to force urine out in tight bursts, but not enough to empty my bladder. Chalk up another new sensation to enforced chastity.

Today, I’m wearing boxers and the loosest pants I have and I must say I’m extremely comfortable. A few times I’ve forgotten I’m packing plastic. If I had a few more pants like these and could sleep more or less though the night, I could stay in this thing indefinitely. Just don’t tell Belle, k?

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Damage report

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Sleeping in chastity

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

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

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

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

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

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Random thoughts on the CB-6000

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

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

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

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Out of the box

Belle let me out of the CB6K Wednesday night and I suspect I won’t be seeing it again for a while. There are several reasons for this. First, we’re in period of transformation in our relationship. Sometimes it’s easy to forget that it was less than two months ago that I revealed my infidelity to Belle. From that nadir to today’s zenith has been a remarkable period of discovery and growth that continues to evolve. The emotional and physiological impact of enforcing chastity was not adding to the joy of this period. Second, Belle’s still adjusting to her role as my keyholder (and I’ll continue to use that phrase even when not locked up since the key I’ve given her isn’t just a physical one). No small part of our emotional transformation is the sexual aspect. I feel like I’m dumping all kinds of stuff on her that I’ve had in my head for years and years (more on that soon) and she’s understandably going to need time to figure out what to do with it all. Frankly, she just isn’t ready to deal with a whiny, locked up male. Lastly, there are just so many other new sexual adventures for us to explore that the slow burn of chastity was taking the hitch out of our giddy-up. Once we get past this “kid on Christmas morning” period, I really hope well revisit the acrylic prison. Right now, though, is the wrong time.