Tag: chastity

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Chastity at the gym

Been in the Looker 02 recently. Couple of random observations regarding it and my thrice weekly personal trainer sessions.

  • He’s made me do Supermans recently (and today). This is a totally cake excercise for me usually, but, since I’m basically putting all my weight onto my hips, it ends up feeling like I’m being impaled on the L02’s urethral insert. The other day, I had to do them rolled out onto an exercise ball. Not painful, but like, “Oh, yeah. I’ve got this thing shoved up me. Right.”
  • Shoulder shrugs are a standing exercise where you lift a bar hanging down around your hips using your shoulder muscles (like a shrug, right?). No issues except for when, instead of sliding smoothing up and over as it would with an unencumbered penis, the bar gets caught by the rigid cage of the device and noticeably flips it up and then back down. It just looks in no way natural.
  • When you’re laying down on a bench doing decline crunches, the odd little lump in one’s workout shorts will often be visible. This can also happen when you’re doing any other kind of recumbent bench press, but is more pronounced when you’re laying in a position where your head is lower than your knees. In particular today, while doing barbell skull-crushers, the penis felt like it was moving down the insert while I was exercising (like, I could feel the insert sliding along inside the shaft of the penis), making the entire package at least feel a lot more present.
  • Occasionally, my sessions will end with my trainer stretching my hip flexors by laying me on a mat and pushing my knee forward into my chest while my other leg stays flat on the ground. Lots of stretchy crotch bits being stretchy and pulling the shorts flat along the line of my legs except, of course, for the bits that don’t stretch and just stand up all perky and weird. Bad enough, but worse when one of the other gym rats is standing there looking down at you and your trainer and chatting while your pronounced little bump sits there being pronounced. Worse yet when you’re wearing the only gray shorts you have rather than the black ones you normally wear and you notice that not only is the lump prominently visible, you can even see the bars on the sides of the L02’s cage and the ridge made by the device’s lock pressing through the material.

When I first started working out with this guy, the idea that my condition would be noticeable by him was mortifying. Now, even when I may be getting busted by other random gym goers, I just let it roll off me. I haven’t a clue what anyone thinks if they’re even noticing the weird little lumps and bumps (and I’m pretty sure they are) and I really don’t care. I’ve wondered if the trainer would ever bring it up and what I’d say if he did. He’s also Belle’s trainer. I think I’d probably come clean, but I don’t know for sure.

In any event, for the prospective chastity device wearer, all these things are totally doable while locked up. Doable while being as stealthy as possible? Maybe not so much.

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Winces, ointments, and fantasies

“I love that sound.”

That’s what Belle said after she gave me the key to the Steelheart and, as I was removing it, I made wincing grunty noises as each of my swollen balls popped through the device’s A-ring. She loves the sound of my balls being released because it means she’s going to have some fun with the penis.

But I wasn’t. Following our previous experiments with lidocaine lotion, reader nagadikandang related their experience with a similar product called Tattoo Soothe. It comes in two varieties, but the one I got is 5% Lidocaine, 20% benzocaine and 5% tetrazine. It’s pretty damned expensive. Fifteen grams of the stuff costs about $30 on Amazon.

However, the additional ingredients seem to make it more potent than lidocaine all by itself. The consistency of Tattoo Sooth is thicker and stickier than the lotions I’ve used in the past. It doesn’t go on as easily and is a little more difficult to wipe off. I applied it, rolled a condom over everything to ensure it didn’t dry out, and waited exactly 15 minutes before removing it. I was totally and completely deadened. I felt nothing. While I used to think lidocaine left me totally numb, if it’s possible, Tattoo Sooth left me feeling even more than totally numb. Like there was a sensation vacuum left at the end of the penis.

That may have been too much of a good thing. I couldn’t get hard enough to penetrate Belle so she could get off. That’s the bad news. The good news is she was a chatty little thing that night.

“Have I ever told you that I sometimes fantasize that you’re a girl? A girl with a cock.”

N-o. Nope. Never told me that. Definitely would have remembered hearing that before.

“Ever had a three way?”

Once, but it didn’t work out.

“Two girls?”

No, one girl and another guy.

“What if we had a three way with another girl?”

Oh, yeah, I’m there.

“What do you imagine that would be like?”

You’d be riding the numbed penis while she sat on my face and the two of you kissed and played with each other’s tits.

“Purrr…”

Then we talked about the flirty policeman.

“I imagined that I took him into one of those below-street brownstone entrances, under the stairs, and fucked him right there…”

Ung. Yeah?

“His cock was so thick and fat I had a hard time getting it in…”

The one and only deficiency she’s admitted to feeling about the penis is its relative lack of girthiness. She doesn’t like them long, but she likes them hefty. I’m not hefty, but the imaginary policeman lover was.

At one point, she demonstrated on me how she sucked the cop’s cock, but of course, I couldn’t feel it in the parts that mattered. I could feel the warmth of her mouth and the softness of her lips, but only at the base of the shaft where it did me no good.

It’s interesting to me that in her fantasy encounter with the cop, she was clearly dominant. In my fantasy, he was, but she told it to me as if she was the aggressor and controller of the encounter.

As I said, I couldn’t get hard enough to let her fuck me (which could have just as easily been a little bit of stress I was feeling regarding how long the numbing agent would last), so she sat on top of me and ground her pussy against whatever condition the penis was in. I didn’t know because I could feel nothing. But she did come.

Afterward, she told me I could fuck her. And I did, after a good deal of coaxing, but I felt almost nothing. Just enough to get hard from the activity, but not nearly enough to ever come from it. Not even close.

As I fucked her, I told her how I wished my orgasm was something physical I could actually give her. Take it out of my body and place it in her hand. I saw it as a small red gem glowing steadily. I told her how I dreamed of watching her close her fist around it and squeezing it until it shattered and its dark pieces fell out onto the floor. Extinguished. How that would leave me with an hollow place that would only be filled with an unquenchable desire for something that was physically unable for me to achieve.

I fell asleep before the penis came back to life. The next morning, she let me fuck her again, only this time I could feel it. I got close to coming several times and leaked a few surges of sticky ejaculate into her before she told me my time was up. She left me out of the device until this morning when, while kissing me goodbye for the day, she whispered into my ear that I needed to lock myself back up.

So I did. So I am.

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Outfit change nerdery

Belle decided it was time to “change my outfit” Sunday morning after sex but before the gym. She put me back in the Looker 02 after an extended time away from it. I think the last time I had it on was way back during SXSW over the first half of March. Then we went of vacation and then she put me in the Steelheart for like six weeks then I went camping and came back and blah blah blah.

Yeah, a long time. It didn’t feel the same as the first time I wore it. There was still some cellular memory there and it didn’t feel as novel as it once did. Going right to the gym and running on the treadmill for a couple of miles was probably not the best idea I’ve had. I neglected to apply a dab of silicone lube to the insert and wore regular, barely there jogging shorts. The bulb-end on the insert kept punching the inside of the penis with every step. It started out as an interesting sensation but evolved into an relatively uncomfortable one before too long. By the end of the day, it was burning for a few seconds every time I took a piss. The next day, a little tender but not painful. I even ran again in the afternoon, but this time lubed the insert beforehand and wore supportive athletic underwear. By this morning at the gym, totally fine.

Aside from the self-inflicted issues from the first day, the Looker 02 remains a remarkably comfortable device. It woke me up this morning, but not from the hard shaft being squeezed by the A-ring as in the Steelheart, but by it clamping down on the bulb-end of the insert. Sometimes, it feels like this odd little hard spot inside me. Not very painful (and without the testicle discomfort the smaller Steelheart ring can give), but kind of like a mild burning.  Yesterday, I had on a pair of light-brown dress pants and noticed while sitting at my desk that the bulge from the cage was smaller (the tube is slightly shorter) but that I could make out the bars through the fabric. Not sure if anyone not expecting to see a chastity device there would have been able to discern what they were looking at, but I knew what it was.

Speaking of which, this morning while working out at the gym with our trainer, I was trying out a new pair of athletic underwear. The pouch on these is a little more forgiving, though still supportive, so that when I was on my back doing bench presses or while doing crunches on the bosu ball, I noticed that the L02 stuck out more than I recall it doing in the past. The pouch may actually have been holding the package up rather than pushing it down like my other shorts do (which, if you think about it, is probably what most guys want it to do). I remember when I first started my work-out regime that I was very concerned about the devices showing to my trainer (so much so that I asked Belle to be let out when I trained — she refused), but today, even with the trainer there and three other people I didn’t know milling about the free weight area, I just didn’t care. Had they looked (and all guys do), they would have seen what looked like maybe a short little stiffy poking up at an odd angle, but I didn’t try to hide it. I couldn’t and still do my exercises. At this point, whatever the fuck. I’m kinda over all the stealthy theatrics. I’m not going to be vulgar and drag someone into my sex life against their will, but at the same time, I’m not going to act especially self-conscious or be uncomfortable about it.

Speaking of speaking of which, the other day I spied a dude in a parking lot who, it seemed to me, clearly had something in his pants. Something unnatural. Could have easily been a chastity device. Something on the larger side, though, like a Curve. I only mention it because it’s the first time I’ve ever seen another guy in the wild who I though could have been packing.

Anyway, I have another week in the woods away from Belle in a few weeks and I’m thinking that this time I might actually be able to stay locked up. The hygiene requirements of the L02 are somewhat simpler than the Steelheart and my privacy situation might be slightly improved this time. I will definitely be giving it a shot.

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Back to business

So yeah, I wussed out on the staying locked up while camping thing. Made it one whole night before taking it off. Privacy and hygiene were the driving factors (as in, no privacy necessary to keep things reasonably clean). I’ll be camping again next month and am already thinking of ways to stay in. We’ll see.

While away, Belle sent the following texts to me (though I didn’t get them right away due to spotty cell coverage):

Currently staring at my fav pic of you (FB profile of the moment) and thinking how I’d like to be on top of you right now…

You may need to stay unlocked cuz Belle needs her Thumpie bad.

Needless to say, that got me going. By the end of the trip, when I was smelling my worst and ready to go home, I kept thinking about having Belle on top and fucking me while I had her tits in my face and, while I didn’t actually play with it, I did find my hand squeezing the resultant hard-on. All the way home, she was all I could think about. I spent a night in a hotel while driving back and put the device back where it’s supposed to be, both because I missed it and know how hotel rooms are a historically tempting place for me and the penis to have some fun.

We were finally able to get down to business Monday night ( a snippet of which I posted yesterday). It was all too much for me, though, and when she finally straddled me, I found there was nothing at all I could fill my brain with that would take me even an inch away from what was happening on the penis. None of my distraction techniques worked worth a damn. The world dissolved into the twin joys of her wet pussy and awesome tits. I had to stop her twice and, the second time, she climbed off. I felt bad, but the pre-game activities had me running too hot to be able to perform satisfactorily.

After getting her off, she told me she was willing to let me have a go at the pussy but didn’t want me to get all uppity and grumpy.

“I won’t be grumpy,” I said, very quickly.

“You promise?”

“I promise,” again, quickly. Before she even finished asking me. Honestly, at that moment I would have agreed to anything she asked just to get inside her again.

It was, of course, glorious, but short lived. I came close to coming fairly quickly and she told me that was it. I need that. To always feel like I’m being contained, deprived, controlled, and left wanting more. I didn’t get grumpy the next day and maybe it was leaving me in that needy state that kept it from happening. From feeling in any way indulged. Or maybe it was just that she hadn’t given me pussy for more than a month.

After, I was high as a kite and figured I’d never get to sleep. I asked Belle if I could put the device back on she had just let me take off a little earlier. I needed to feel it on me and not have an annoying tube steak constantly swelling and swaying around. She said, “Of course,” and I pushed and squished the semi back into its home and clutched her from behind, holding her body as close to mine as possible.

“At least I’ll have given you something to blog about,” she said to me as we fell asleep. Indeed.

I honestly can’t recall ever being this happy in my life.

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Squishy: Boy Trainer 2.0/Birdlocked Neo first impressions

Belle allowed me to purchase a Boy Trainer 2.0 from Mr. S Leather the other day. My thought was it could be used when travelling or any other time something non-metal or slightly less severe was necessary or preferred. Kind of a “chastity-lite” thing that would be honestly better for me than swinging free.

It arrived yesterday and Belle said in advance I could switch from the Steelheart I’ve been in since the beginning of April to the BT2. I wore it from about 5:00 PM yesterday until after my workout and shower this morning. Not nearly long enough to form a complete picture or write up a full review, but I have some observations:

  • First of all, Mr. S markets it as the Boy Trainer 2.0, but it’s actually a Birdlocked Neo. I didn’t even know such a thing existed and thought Mr. S had developed this on their own. Not so much.
  • It’s really big. Bigger than a CB6K (though seemingly not longer than a standard 6K tube). This makes it much more noticeable beneath clothing (even jeans) than the Steelheart. The A-ring (which isn’t really an A-ring since it’s all one piece) is quite wide and the whole thing sticks out more prominently than any other device I’ve worn. When sitting, it gets all squished up so you don’t see a tube outline like with a rigid device, but it does leave an idle observer with the impression that you’re packing something impressive.
  • I lost my right nut with it last night. Woke up during the usual early morning hydraulics test not because the erection was biting (it wasn’t) but because my right nut had popped out and hidden itself up inside me somewhere and was aching. All I had left in the device was a flappy pocket of scrotum. Had to take the device all the way off to get things sorted.
  • During my shower, I discovered that the device isn’t just easy to pull out from (all these devices are) but that I could remove the entire thing from my body and get it back on again while soaped up, all without unlocking it. You can’t really refer to the BT2/Neo as a “trapped-ball” device since my balls (at least) aren’t at all trapped.
  • Since there’s nothing at all adjustable about it, there’s nothing I can do to make it fit me better. The openings for my nuts are just a little too big and the tube is too long. For this reason alone, I’d recommend a CB6K for someone just starting out over the BT2/Neo. Taking the short tube option into account, the CB6K has something like 40 different fitting combinations.

When I’m back from my trip, I’ll write up something bigger, but that’s enough for now. If you’re curious to see what the BT2/Neo looks like on this rabbit, I posted a picture to Twitter.

Speaking of my trip, I’ve decided to try and stay locked the whole time I’m gone. Long time readers will know I did do this over a camping trip a few years ago, but I had significantly more privacy then. I’ll have the key with me so if it gets too difficult, I’ll have a way out.

With that, I’ll sign off for the next couple of weeks…

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Transmuted pangs

Belle’s experiment with controlling my moodiness enters its third week. I’ve been out of the Steelheart for about an hour (since the day she let me out overnight earlier in the month) and that was for cleaning purposes only. I didn’t even get a boner. As I mentioned recently, I’ve found myself to be very irritable after being allowed to fuck her since we were on vacation so she’s decided I won’t get to do that as much as before and has stuck to it. I’ve essentially been locked up for month and have only been inside Belle once in that time.

She still gets to come, of course. Of course. Whenever she wants. Last time was at the end of my tongue. That was an especially frustrating one because she tasted so good and was so fucking wet after, but nothing for me. On my way down to her snatch, I rubbed the hard steel tube against her pussy and felt nothing whatsoever. Not even her heat. Laying on my stomach between her legs was physically painful as the erection struggled against the device and the device pressed into the mattress. I had to keep my ass raised up the whole time, lapping and licking and feeling her squirm in delight.

This morning, I was tending the porn farm and found this image among the firehose-like stream of pictures and animated GIFs I peruse on Tumblr. It’s not something suitable for The Portfolio since I never post any images of men having or having just had an orgasm (for obvious reasons), but as soon as I saw it, I felt a sharp and palpable pang from deep down. The situation is one nearly all men are familiar with (I may even have had those shoes) and, for a fleeting second, I felt myself there again. Being in that place where I could feel my hand wrapped around and pumping on a hard shaft, coaxing the seed from myself and being so wrapped up in the act that I didn’t care where it went after and, once out, the wash of release cascading like a cooler full of Gatorade dumped over my head and the realization that maybe I didn’t want a bunch of goo all over my clothes or the floor and now I’d have to clean it up. And the smell of it. The pungent smell of fresh semen. All that in a fraction of a second. And I wanted it. And I mourned not being able to have it. And I felt truly denied.

I presume my moodiness stems from that. From being truly denied now. There is no hope of coming for me. Not for a long time. No part of me needs to be invested in hoping she won’t let me. She will not. Nothing even close. No fucking, no touching. I meekly and pathetically suggested to her last night that she might let me out for some penis play time (not in her as she’s on her period) and, once she figured out what I was suggesting, shot the idea down because she couldn’t see what was in it for her. Why the hell should I be let out only to play with the penis? What’s the point?

So what I’m left with is an awful and glorious gnawing in my crotch for release. For attention. For a fucking hard on. I’m squirming and desperate and needy and right where I want and need to be. She won’t let her thumb off of my soul for a second. So cruel and yet loving.

In a few days, Belle’s leaving for another work trip and, just before she gets back, I’m leaving on a nine day camping trip with friends. She told me I could unlock myself at the last possible moment before I leave, but I’m toying with the idea of staying in. Not because I fear having access to the meat (I won’t have much privacy or opportunity to do anything with it I’m not allowed to do) but because I’ve been in so long now and, my desire to feel the stiff penis inside her aside, it’s just how I am. It’s how I want to feel. I resent having to come out. I resent real life forcing itself between us. Logically, I know I need to come out. It would be nearly impossible to keep things clean and lubed and secret for the whole time I’m away from bathrooms and plumbing and paved roads.

But god, I love living as she wants me to. I love how my submission transmutes what I need into something I don’t want and then back into something I crave, all because she wants it, too. You should feel sorry for me…and very happy for me, both.

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Want

“It’s trying to get hard,” I said to Belle. We were laying next to each other and kissing lightly, my hand ranging under her clothes, from her ass up her back.

“Yeah,” she replied, “So?”

Ungh. 

Earlier, Belle and I had discussed briefly the grumpiness I’ve been feeling when let out and inside her. We agreed that it seemed to be caused by her indulging me. By letting my lizard brain think there was a chance to come. So, she wasn’t indulging me. But fuck, I wanted to be indulged. Badly.

The kissing intensified and Belle rolled back and pulled on me slightly, indicating I should be up and over her. On all fours, I kissed her face and neck and her hand ran down my naked side, over my ass and thigh, and then back up to find my nuts. She fingered that wondrously sensitive area between my ass crack and balls, including the steel ring anchoring her chastity device to my body. The ring of power, I thought. Where the metal did her business with me. The very spot where her control over me was made real. I felt myself slip lightheadedly into shallow subspace.

Her caressing of the tightening skin felt fantastic. I moaned into her neck and pillow. Her touch was light and playful. Then, SMACK! I hadn’t expected that. Hadn’t really wanted it. But not so much that I wouldn’t accept it. She could do what she wanted and right then she wanted to hurt me. She didn’t have to ask permission. I fell more deeply into subspace.

WHACK! *gentle gentle* THWACK! Repeat.

The penis yearned to become fully erect, but the steel restrained it cruelly. The dull pain of the hard ring clenched around the captured erection mixed with the pain she was causing me. I wanted it gentle but also wanted to submit to her. Each time she made contact, I collapsed a bit but raised myself back up again hoping she’d stroke me lightly from then on. I tried to encourage her in that direction.

“That feels so good,” I whispered.

PUNCH! Immediate. No delay. As if to say, Oh? Really?

That one hurt deeply. I collapsed again and groaned as the wave of hot pain radiated out from my groin. But then I raised my ass back into the air and spread my legs a bit more. She was making me crave her attacks, but Thumper Time was up.

She pulled up her top exposing her fantastic tits and their hard, fat nipples. I greedily sucked them, one then the other. The penis raged and the lizard fell back in abject dispair knowing it was a futile effort. This was about Belle completely now. She would not be getting the key. I would not be indulged.

I pressed my hand against the crotch of her pajama bottoms and felt the moist heat of her pussy glowing beneath. I pulled her pants off and sank my fingers into her hot wetness. So soft, so smooth. I craved it. The craving ate at me from within. So fucking close, but so far away.

I played with her clit and sucked her tits and she slowly arched her head, neck and back as the orgasm creeped up on her. Her hips started to gyrate beneath my fingers and her breathing grew short and ragged and my hips started to rhythmically grind against her thigh. I humped her leg in my impotent fashion, raging hard-on compressed and painful in its trap, in syncopation with her gyrations. She was coming and I was fucking her in my own way. The only way I could. The only way she’d let me.

After she came (hard) I felt like a man about to reach a summit that was suddenly not beneath him anymore. She was glowing while I was left to try to restrain myself from further grinding. I moaned. I whimpered. She ignored me.

She fell asleep. I stayed awake. I do love her so much.

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And then she rubbed her tits in my face

Other interests have keep me from my blogging lately, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t wanted to. Let’s play catch-up…

Last week, I recall with a certain vividness a moment Belle and I shared in our kitchen just after dinner. The kids had scattered and it was just us and apparently she was feeling frisky so she rubbed her tits in my face. Literally. Pushed my face down there and moved them back and forth. I was delirious. Made my head light and toes tingle. I may have just commented on how I had been locked up continuously since we got back from vacation and she may have said something to the effect that a) that’s not that long for me, and b) it would be a lot longer still, and c) here, let me rub my tits in your face you whiny rabbit. After she had me good and woozy, she told me to clean up the kitchen and left me swaying.

She’s off on an international trip now, but before she left she let the penis out for about 24 hours so she could have some fun with it. I was barely able to keep things under control while she rode me for an orgasm. It wasn’t the fucking that nearly sent me over the edge as much as it was the sound of her coming. Her orgasm has become a kind of release for me and I actually feel something like an post-orgasmic euphoria from it. Once she started to come, listening to her ecstatic sounds pulled a trigger inside me and my own orgasm presented itself quickly. I held still, pressed down on the small of her back to keep her from making any motion (she likes to fuck me from above), and it turned out to be nothing more than a copious surge of frustrated goo. Quite copious, it turned out, since she gave me permission to fuck her afterward and I was treated to my own sloppy seconds. I could barely be inside her without getting right back to the edge.

I was again overwhelmed by the need to come. You’re like, well duh, but in the past I would fuck without wanting to come more often than fucking the other way around, but now that I know there’s no possibility she’s going to let me, that internal denial safety is nowhere to be found and I seem to always want to come when she lets me get the penis wet. I tell her how I feel and she tells me it’s just not going to happen and I feel simultaneously a great and overwhelming love towards her (and gratitude) but I also hear the lizard snarl and growl. I fucking want to come. 

And, you know, that’s awesome. It’s way better to feel denied something I really want than something I don’t. But, just like when I was on vacation, I found myself really irritable and grumpy as hell later in the day. I was able to recognize it and kept it from being directed at Belle, but this intense irritability thing is new for me. So yeah, you can be locked up for the better part of four years and still find new things in it.

Like I said, she had me out for one day. Friday night to Saturday night. Then I had to go back in for her trip. I’ve been in the Steelheart for seventeen out of the last eighteen days and will likely remain in it (or the Looker) for nearly three more weeks (with maybe another day out for her pleasure along the way, but that’s not my call obviously). Early in May, I go away for a week’s camping excursion with friends and I’ll be out for that.

After 17 days, I’m more or less back into the groove, device-wise. It’s me and I’m it and I don’t even always wake up from the morning wood (and when I do, I like how it feels rather than being bothered by it). Yesterday, I must have been wearing an uncommon combination of underwear (silly stringy ones with hardly any support) and jeans (third wearing since last wash) because the device had what seemed like a lot of room down there and was taking advantage of it. I could feel it swinging and swaying as I walked around. I was very aware of it. By the end of the day, I was pretty turned on, but there was no Belle to enjoy that with.

This morning, after my workout, I had all those hormones pinging around inside me, so I decided to enjoy a new toy over the course of the day. After getting it all situated, I discovered I needed more and broke out the big guns. Then I put the new toy back (where it is now — more on it in a later post). Needless to say, I was quite late for work.

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A twist in the bend

Reader avlaps left the following suggestion on my review of the Steelworxx Looker 02 regarding what I assumed to be a misaligned bend in the anatomical A-ring:

Maybe it is due to asymmetry of a testicles? In normal state the left one is placed higher than other one so that rotated ring can give more comfort. (sorry if my English is weird, it is not native for me)

And I was all like, huh. That’s not a bad theory. It’s not shown that way on the Steelworxx site, so I assumed it was a mistake, but avlaps might be onto something. I’ve been thinking about that off and on since.

This morning, I took a few pictures to get to the bottom of it. I’ll put them behind a jump to help maintain this site’s nominal sensitivity to being totally NSFW.

Continue reading “A twist in the bend”

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What I’d like to do

You know what I’d like to be doing right now? Jacking off. I’d like to be jacking the hard penis, smothered in lube, feeling the heavy PA ring flopping around, nasty pinchy clamps on my nipples. I’d like to watch my fist ride up until it was snug around the penis’ head like a turtleneck sweater and all the crazy fucking nerve endings there firing on my brain like a pirate ship sacking a costal village. Then see the shaft rise up out of my hand, then let it all reverse again. Over and over. Then, when I found myself at the edge of orgasm, I’d let go of the poor thing and let it surge and struggle and flex and maybe leak a bit, but then I’d lap that up and just keep going. Salty sweet nectar. The prize inside.

But I can’t. The penis is locked up. And even if it weren’t, Belle has forbidden that I touch it in that way. In the past several weeks, I’ve jacked off for a grand total of ten minutes because Belle told me I could for five minutes twice. That’s it. So, even if I didn’t have steel restricting the erection that wants to be stroked, I wouldn’t touch it because that would be against the rules I have taken to heart very seriously and promised I’d follow.

So, instead, I look at porn. Which makes the penis even more constrained in its steel cage and makes the desire to stroke it even greater which causes me to want to look at more porn which makes me…well, you get the point.