Tag: D/s

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Changing outfits

The other day, I was stripping out of my day clothes and into something more comfortable whilst in front of Belle. She looked over and saw the Looker dangling between my legs and said that this weekend she’d “change my outfit” (meaning I’d be locked in a different device from her collection). Also, she indicated that she’d likely want to use the penis while it was available.

Last night, I was snuggled up against her, pressing as much of my body against as much of hers as possible, and asked when I was coming out. Based on how these things have gone down in the past, I assumed I’d have a day or so of freedom. She told me I misinterpreted what she said and then let me know how it was going to go down this time.

“So you’re just going to fuck me and then lock me back up?”

“Pretty much.”

Whimper.

For those wondering, it’ll be the Steelheart Short this time around.

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Happiest penis on earth

We’re back from our journey deep into the heart of the Happiest Place on Earth.

For those who were wondering from my previous post on the subject, the West coast version of the HPOE does not use metal detecting wands on park guests. That meant, after the first day, I was in the L02 until we departed. It’s hard to be around so many people and wonder how many other men are locked up. Or how many would like to be if only they could build up the courage to bring it up with their partner.

Anyway, it was good that the device was off for at least one reason on that first day since it was our wedding anniversary. To celebrate, we booked massages at the spa in the resort. In the past, my experience with massages has been that they leave a towel or other cloth for you to climb under during the rubbing, but in this case, the sheet was whisper thin. When on my back, I’m quite sure the masseuse (a guy who had a definite gay vibe about him) could see if I was circumcised (and that, of course, made me very much aware of the massage-induced tumescence that can spring to life from time to time). Any device would have plainly been on display. In general, I wouldn’t advise anyone wear one to a massage unless it’s your thing to share your sex life with strangers. Personally, I wish we lived in a culture where it would be acceptable, but really, it’s not. In any event, I had a 90-minute deep-tissue rub-down that left me rubbery, fragrant, and slick with oil. Really great. I need these more often.

Belle mentioned during our fantastic dinner afterward that the resort’s security allowed for me to be in my usual state and that I would be the next morning. Beforehand, though, she took advantage of our private bedroom and the penis’ availability to bring herself to orgasm while fucking me from on top. This is about four times now that she’s been able to do that without me coming which is a feat I’m pretty happy about. She prefers penetrative orgasms and I’m very pleased to be able to help her get them. At least for the past several times, I’ve been able to put myself in a place that keeps me far enough away from coming as necessary. This means I don’t actually get a lot of pleasure from the sex, but that’s not the point anyway. And usually, she let’s me go for a ride after her post-orgasmic glow recedes. Then, I can fuck like I mean it, but without the natural pay-off.

I went right back into the Looker as soon as we got home and remain there now, though Belle’s mentioned she might want to get off on the penis again this weekend. Not sure exactly, but I’ve been wearing the new device for probably just over a month total now. Interestingly, the urethral plug has become less and less noticeable during that time. I still feel it every once in a while, but it’s nothing at all like it was for the first week or so. Like wearing a device in general, the fact that I have this seven to eight centimeter titanium tube impaling the penis has become second nature. For those wondering, there’s been no internal pain or discomfort. After it comes out, it feels as though it was never in. Even the weird cavitating sensation I talked about when peeing, while still present, is no longer a discomfort.

The only issue I’m having with the L02 right now may or may not have anything to do with the plug. For some reason, since putting it back on when I got home, I’ve been getting the foreskin and edge of the glans pinched against the edge of the cap on the end of the cage when laying on my stomach in bed or after shifting my seated positon, etc. Not all the time, but enough times that it’s noticeable and not a fluke thing. I don’t know what’s changed, but I wonder if the penis isn’t moving as freely along the plug as it once was. When wearing a steel device for a long time, there will eventually form deposits like hard water scale. In the Steelheart, this happens near the inside end of the tube where the little bit of urine that doesn’t drain can sit. It’s possible something similar is happening on the plug shaft and that’s keeping the penis from settling in as far as it used to which, in turn, is leaving things in a pinch-able position. The way to deal with these deposits is to soak the device for a few minutes in vinegar. Afterward, they rub right off. Kinda like getting the scale out of your coffee maker. If Belle lets me out this weekend, I’ll do that and see how things change (assuming she puts me back into the L02 and not one of her other options).

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Flashback

Remember that time when you first started seeing your significant other? When you’d want to put every little bit of them in your mouth and thought the taste of their spit was the best thing ever and that they smelled like magical unicorn butterflies (work with me here)? And when you fucked them all you could hear in the back of your head was, “DEEPER!!” and you’d be all like, “I’m in as deep as I can be!” and that voice would say, “Oh hell, let me,” and you’d try to grind yourself past the point of absolute total insertion and dangerously close to pelvic trauma? As if you could, if you just pressed hard enough, actually fuck yourself inside of them. And every other word out of your mouth was telling them how much you loved them because, truly, you did and couldn’t stop saying it?

Yeah, that was me on Sunday. Belle let me get her off and then I begged to be let out so I could take a ride. She thought about it for longer than I thought she would and would have been OK for different reasons with either answer, but she eventually said yes. The key came out and the Looker 02 slid off and out and, despite the impatient boner, I got the ring off. Then I was Mr. First Paragraph man.

No, I never came. Of course I didn’t. But it was great. So great. She told me she wanted me to put on the Steelheart, so that’s where I am now. Not much else to report, really. Being in the Steelheart is like being in the house you grew up in. A little tight, but homey and comforting. I’m away from Belle starting tomorrow until next Monday night. Not sure what she’ll expect my state to be whilst away. Probably find out later tonight.

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Hello there

How long has it been since I last posted!? Shameful.

Well, I can only hope to catch you up the way you do a friend who’s decided to start watching Lost with you when the seventh episode comes on: bullet points (usually delivered over the opening credits, but I have more time).

  • Why haven’t I blogged? Frankly, I was depressed. Nothing to do with Belle or sex or anything like that (though the hormone roller coaster may have played a supporting role), just stuff. One of those times when the various circles in your life’s Venn diagram all come together in random suckiness. A harmonic resonance of shit, so to speak. But I feel like I’m coming out of it. For example, I’m back on the horndog wagon. Feeling pretty frisky. That’s always going to help the brain chemistry.
  • Have I had an orgasm since we last met? Nope. Almost three months now. Keep reading.
  • A little while back, I mentioned I was hoping Belle would use a newish hitty thing on my ass and she did but I didn’t like it all that much. Having never been struck by a cane, I wasn’t sure how it would work out. Apparently, I’m more of a flogger boy. Or a wide-backed wooden hair brush boy (which is what she turned on me when the cane fell through).
  • Belle fucked me again and, like last time, I was able to hold off so she could come. I got really close, but sent the orgasm off the rails by thinking of politics. Not as fun as baseball, but remarkably effective.
  • Belle also let me have a week out of lock-up (in the Steelheart Short), but I’m back in now (JB2). The first night out, I edged myself for about an hour while reading naughty stories and, while I didn’t come, I got very close and leaked quite a bit. The thing that got me to stop was a kind of weird free-flowing of ejaculate that just poured out of the penis. It didn’t shoot out and it didn’t feel anything at all like an orgasm, but a huge quantity of the stuff just kept coming out. The bedroom reeked of it (funny how when you only smell feminine sex how pungent male sex smells). Anyway, I freaked out because I was afraid Belle would wake up and think I cheated, so I licked up all I could and went in the bathroom to clean the rest off. It was all over my stomach, down into my bellybutton, coated over my nuts, and all down one leg and still dripping. Guess I had some build-up I needed to get rid of.
  • As counterintuitive as it may seem for a guy who a) sports a penis that’s almost always locked in steel, and b) isn’t allowed to come even when it’s not, I decided to purchase a fancy new Fleshlight. I know I can’t use it very often but I’ve always really, really wanted to try one and I got a coupon code in the email so pulled the trigger. All I’ve been able to do thus far is stuck my finger in there and holy shit does it feel good. NO IDEA when I’ll be able to poke it as intended by the manufacturer, but I’m looking forward to the chance. Now that I’ve written this, it may never happen (Belle didn’t know I got it until she read this).
  • My birthday was between now and my last post. I told Belle all I wanted was something that wouldn’t cost her any money, and she (bless her) thought I meant I wanted to come. Au contraire. I wanted not to. The present I wanted was the absence of a thing which is kinda deep if you think about it. Anyway, she agreed to give me what I didn’t want (or whatever, this is getting confusing) and now I won’t come until January. That’s essentially six months, assuming I don’t blow my load on New Year’s (or accidentally some time in between). I know that Belle likes it when I come so I appreciate the present.
  • The upshot of that is that after I got her off on Sunday, she let me fuck her and damn but didn’t I want to come? It was kinda cool knowing I couldn’t because of the aforementioned birthday present and that lifted the often-encountered “man, I really want to but I hope she won’t let me” conflict. Even better was telling her how badly I wanted it and hearing her say of course not, silly rabbit.

I think that’s it for now. Nice to be back.

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Standard equipment

I was looking for something to blog about (it’s been kinda slow around here lately) and reader Lily happily obliged:

Hey, Thumper: I’ve become a fan of Thumper’s Portfolio, where you post pictures of both men and women. I was flipping through my newsreader today and a question occurred to me: do you think your interest in chastity is gender-specific? That is, if you were in a primary relationship with a guy, would you want him to enforce chastity on you? Or is that something that’s only erotically salient for you when your primary partner is a woman?

First, a note about the Portfolio. The other day, it crossed over the 1,000-follower mark (on Tumblr, if you have an account, you can follow a blog and get its posts mixed in with the posts of other Tumblrs you like). Relative to some of the porny Tumblrs I follow (or even the kind of traffic this site gets), that’s not very much, but my Tumblr is a bit hard for the average person to get into. Usually, the really popular ones are all one gender or one specific fetish/kink (like femdom or something). Mine’s a mix of whatever turns me on and fits into my aesthetic du jour. So anyway, to find 1,000 people who want to see (or will put up with seeing) sexy ladyparts and hard throbbing cocks and dudes getting face-sat and heavy bondage scenes and iPhone selfpics and animated gifs of some dude eating another’s ass but not images of men shooting orgasms or any image that make women look degraded or too obviously objectified (since guys coming and women being “used” are my two hard lines), is pretty amazing. I guess. I have no idea how many people visit the thing without following it on Tumblr.

But anyway…

Yes, Lily, if I were in a primary relationship with a guy, I’d want the same things I get with Belle. As I’ve said here before, guy-on-guy chastity turns my crank hard. It’s not that I’d rather be with a guy or anything like that (please, I’ve been though all that bisexual bullshit already). I think the reason I like it so much is a) it’s not what I live with every day and the exotic is exciting, and b) there’s something about one guy getting to do exactly what the other guy isn’t allowed to do. One guy having done to him what he cannot do in return. It puts a whole new spin on the dynamic.

Also, I want to be dominated. I’m a sub. Regardless of the gender of my partner, that’s what I want to feel. And the slow burn of denial euphoria would still be a potent drug. Those things are basic to me.

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New rule

From this point forward, I am never again to refer to the chastity devices Belle puts on my body as anything other than Belle’s property. I have become too possessive of them and have lost sight that they, like that which they contain, are and should be Belle’s.

Further, when they aren’t locked onto the penis, Belle will have possession of them. She will decide when and for how long each is used on me. I will hand over to her any devices not currently in use.

That is all.

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Wanting it

Had to take the JB off due to a sore spot. Nothing wrong with the device. It’s just what happens from time to time.

That meant, when Belle told me to give her an orgasm later that night, there was available erectile tissue at hand if she wanted it. At first, it didn’t look like she did (as usual), but after a little bit, she pushed my hand aside and climbed onto me. She guided the penis into her pussy and slid down on it. She moaned, I gasped.

Obviously, my biggest concern was coming before she was able to. I more or less let her drive and tried to keep the penis (now pretending to be a cock) in one position while she moved over it.

BASEBALL, I thought. With all my might, I thought about baseball. Green fields. Division standings. Etc. If I even twitched I felt the orgasmic mechanisms start to move, so I avoided twitching and tried not to think about how I was in her for the first time in six weeks. Batting averages. On-base percentages. Earned run averages. Statistics. Not how fucking amazing her hot wet pussy felt moving over the several million deprived nerve endings in the erection.

The trickiest bit is when she’s about to come. Her movements become faster and more dramatic. I pretended like it wasn’t my concern and just kept sucking on her nipples.

focusfocusfocusfocusfocus

Then it was over. She came. And I hadn’t! But holy shit, was I close.

As she laid on top of me, glowing, I tentatively moved the penis in and out three times.

“Who said you could do that?”

Freeze.

She moved off of me and the penis slapped back wetly. I pressed into her, whimpering just a bit.

“What do you want, Thumper?”

“I want to be inside you.”

“You just were.”

“Yeah, but I had to concentrate so hard I couldn’t really enjoy it.”

“Isn’t that the point?”

It took me hours to fall asleep and, even then, I had a hard time staying that way.

This morning, I was again up against her.

“What are you thinking, Thumper?”

“I want to be inside you.”

“You already were.”

“I know. I want to go inside you again.”

This time, she let me. She pulled her pajama pants off but left her top. This wasn’t about anything other then letting me get the penis wet.

And it did get wet. She was so fucking hot inside it almost burned and, since there was zero foreplay beforehand, she felt very tight. It felt glorious. I have no idea how long it went on because whatever place I was in mentally didn’t have a clock. All I know is I fucked and fucked and fucked. I broke out into a cold sweat from repeatedly racing up to the edge before backing off. Slower, faster, slower, stop. Repeat. When I started, I didn’t want to come. But I realized at some point that now I did. And badly. And the only thing in the world keeping me from thrusting the one and half more times it’d take to spurt was that Belle didn’t tell me I could.

When I finally put words to how I was feeling, she made me stop. The ride was over. No orgasm. But holy shit, did I want one. My head was swimming in the need for it. I felt like biting her and squeezing her and having my way with her. But I didn’t do any of those things. Instead, I thanked her and she told me to make her breakfast. So I did.

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Mailbag

Matt Cook hasn’t had an orgasm in seven months, and he hopes never to intentionally have one again.

Now that’s an opening line. Certainly one that will grab my attention. It comes (ahem) from an article found by the inimitable Tom Allen in which the practice of Karezza is described. Kareeza, also know as “coitus reservatus”, is described by Wikipedia as “a form of sexual intercourse in which the penetrative partner does not attempt to ejaculate within the receptive partner, but instead attempts to remain at the plateau phase of intercourse for as long as possible avoiding the seminal emission.”

The article on Matt Cook wasn’t the first time I’d heard of Karezza, though. I received the following from reader Athena an embarrassingly long time ago:

I would be very appreciative to read a mans view, in particular your view regarding “Coitus Reservatus” or aka Karezza. I’m requesting this because you’re very gifted at expressing yourself in a manner that is easily understandable for your Female readers.

I want to approach the topic with my boyfriend, as I’ve been researching the practice lately. But finding contemporary and relative articles has been a challenge.

Would you agree that Karezza can be, for some the next step in the progression of chastity within a relationship?

I’m not sure I’d compare Karezza to enforced male chastity for a couple of reasons. First, chastity is, as we practice it, more than incidentally about power exchange. It’s a form of BDSM. Karezza, as I understand it, has no element of power exchange whatsoever. The man willingly controls his orgasm to promote the “deepest human affection.” Secondly, it sounds is if there is regular penetration by the man (and some kind of preternatural ability to avoid orgasm on his part). In my experience, the penis rarely gets wet, especially for recreational fucking without possibility of orgasm (alas). Of course, the end product of both is similar. The girl comes and the guy doesn’t. The resulting feelings and attitude of the man are likely very similar, but the getting there is all different.

But that doesn’t mean I disagree with you that it (or some form of it) could be a “next step in the progression of chastity within a relationship” for some. Honestly, I’ve felt for a while now that I was doing this chastity thing all wrong. I want to be denied. I do not want to come. Oh, I do, from time to time, get the urge and feel the need and she does let me, but immediately afterward I invariably wish I hadn’t. Even as I’m building toward the orgasm, in the back of my head I’m hoping she won’t let me. In all the hawt chastity porn, the man is desperate for orgasm all the time and his evil wife is constantly dangling the possibility out there but rarely letting him have it. That’s not me. I want to be denied and denied and denied. I’ve felt this way for a long time and, I recall, when I first said on this blog that I didn’t like having an orgasm as much as not having one, some readers suggested I was Doing It Wrong. Perhaps my denial has led me to a place not unlike where practitioners of coitus reservatus find themselves. Like Matt, I’d be happy if Belle told me I would never intentionally come again.

So yeah, the idea of coitus reservatus does appeal to me, but the lack of any kind of domination or submission doesn’t. I am where Matt Cook is, mostly. But I still want the D/s, bondage, and masochism. I’m a kinky bastard, after all.

Anonymous said:

After few months with playing with CB-6000 and some doubts, my wife came to conclusion, that she like benefits of using chastity device (short term, not permanent), but not the device itself. Reason – tube-like shape and imagination of everything inside swollen, sweaty, and without much ventilation, works for her rather as a turn off. We looked for some cage-like devices, but I still don’t get it – how to take it off with full erection, while most of them (all?) has closed, one-piece rings? I know the ordinary method (one potato, two potato, weenie to get in, and backwards to take it off), but HOW, when my precious member, when full erected, is pointing straight at my face, when I look at him? is it even possible to take off the ring with an erection?

If the ring is fitted correctly, you can’t get it off when you’re hard. Impossible. But, (again) if it’s fitted correctly, you probably don’t really need to. At least that’s my experience. The A-ring of the Steelheart, when left on, is like an almost but not quite too tight cockring. It has the benefit of making the penis’ erection a tad larger and it gives me a bit more staying power (plus, it’s kinda uncomfortable which pushes my masochism buttons). I’m not sure that a device without the integrated lock would work as well, though. My Jail Bird has a post sticking out for the lock to engage the cage and, while we’ve never tried it, it’s likely that the post would poke Belle.

My advice: Figure out a way to get the ring off before you’re too hard and/or make a fun little game of defeating the erection so the ring can come off (bag of ice water on the cock, for instance).

Beth said:

I’ve never commented but I’ve enjoyed reading your blog immensely for the last year or two. I was hoping I could get a piece of advice. I’m a lady in a 5+ year relationship with a handsome gentleman- I’d say he’s a switch/sub and I’m a sub/switch. We’ve been doing light BDSM play for 2-3 years now but in a couple of weeks we’ve decided to try a 24 hour power exchange since it’ll be the first time we’ll see each other in 3 months (!). I’ll be domming but as we’ve never done anything like this for more than an hour or 2 I figured I’d ask if you had any particular “care and keeping” advice.

From our earlier play I know some of the standard considerations (plenty of conversations ahead of time, sit down in an uncharged situation before to revisit soft/hard limits, yellow/red safeword system, have quick access necessary safety equipment (trauma shears for rope play, etc), plenty of downtime afterward to process and recharge and snuggle) but a scenario of this length is new territory for both of us and I imagine there are things I haven’t thought of. Should I try to break scene every few hours to check in or is that too disruptive to the “subspace”? We’re both very much looking forward to this and I just want to make sure it goes as smoothly as is reasonable to expect.

Beth, to me it sounds like you’re doing everything right. All that communication up front is so critical and it sounds like you’ve done it in spades. With regard to breaking the scene, if I were in his position and had the requisite safewords, etc., I wouldn’t want you too. The more time spent deeply in the subspace, the better.

Your handsome gentleman is lucky to have such a thoughtful and considerate top.

John said:

Recently got in to chastity with my partner. Actually, he complained about my spanking the monkey too much and sort of took matters into his own hands. I am currently locked in a Bon4. Hoping for a jailbird or steel heart soon. I had reservations at first, but have since found it fucking awesome to hold back. The longest time so far is 5 days. He teases me mercilessly while i am locked up. We had to do some experimentation with different ring sizes, lubes, underware, etc., but thanks to the advise on your blog, things have improved significantly. Just wanted to say thanks for the awesome blog, and keep up the good work.

Have I mentioned how hot I find the idea of gay male chastity? Sweet Jesus. I’m glad things are going well for you guys, John. Send pictures. Really.

I apologize to those who sent in feedback. It took me far too long to get to it all this time around.

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How I should be

Got home Saturday after three days on the road. I love these trips, but the getting there and back is grueling. Before the sun went down, Belle was already saying I needed to go back in to the steel. Not until Sunday, though.

Sunday morning, she was up early getting the boy ready to leave for camp. I wanted some fun, but it wasn’t to be. By midmorning, I had the Steelheart back in place. But, you may be thinking, didn’t I have a new Jail Bird waiting for me? Yes, I did, but it wasn’t right. I ordered it with a security screw and it came with a hole for a regular little padlock. I tried it with the one and only little padlock we still have from the old CB6K days but it was one of those black Masterlocks with the plastic shell and it made the unit too bulky. It was quite visible poking through my sweats. Also, I’m not a big fan of the way the lock sits sideways on the JB.

I don’t really consider the screw omission to be Mature Metal’s fault entirely. The order started as an email exchange about getting a new base ring, the more observant of you might remember, and it evolved into a whole new device after several messages sent back and forth. We ended up using a non-standard channel for the order and they missed a detail. Had it gone through their site, I’m sure it would have been right. In any event, it’s going back to get screwed.

By Sunday night, Belle and I had found some personal time. Naked, I laid close to her with my head down on her chest while she fingered my sack and basically drove me crazy. She asked me how I was doing being back in and I, in that state with that sensation, would have told her anything. I said I was glad to be back in. I was happier that way. I told her how I never got used to having a normal penis during the trip. Each time I took a leak it felt weird handling a soft flap of meat rather than a steel tube. And in the morning, the unencumbered erection was a distraction. I felt like I was cheating somehow. It was wrong. She told me I was suited to being locked up. That it was how I should be. Then she let me get her off.

When it was over, I was amazingly turned on. The tube throbbed with beat of my heart, bit into my nascent erection and pulled on my nuts. I wanted…something. Not to be out, but to be out. Not to fuck her, but to fuck her. Not to come, but to come. All the conflicting and otherwise contradictory urges that come with the denial of orgasm.

I’m on my third day back in the steel and it feels like I was never out. Belle’s right. This is how I should be.

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Fireworks

So it’s true, sports fans. The bunny did come over the holiday weekend. Once on Thursday inside Belle and once again the next day all over my stomach (with Belle in attendance, however).

She let me out in the morning and yet again chose not to get herself off on the penis and opted for my fingers. Once done, she let me go inside and have at it. I tried so hard to make it last. I felt very confident that I would. That I was in control and would have enough time to really enjoy the old-fashioned sex, but my mind started inserting images and thoughts into my head. The fact that Belle hadn’t needed the penis to get off and that it was usually locked up, forgotten, and unnecessary. That it and my ability to control it was a shadow of what once was since, of course, I have essentially no control over it at all anymore. That lack of control is what makes it such a worthless object for Belle. There’s really no way to stop the orgasm. I can’t stop it. It’s coming already…right now…there. Done. Well less than a minute and I was copiously pumping nearly six weeks of pent up ejaculate into Belle. It felt like it was over before it even started.

The next morning Belle wasn’t really interested in anything but allowed me to jack off next to her in bed. Again, I wanted it to last so I could at least really enjoy the build up to an actual climax as opposed to the stopping and retreat that normally happens when I have access to the penis. And again, while I lasted longer than before, it was over so soon. Just a hair trigger it all that remains (at least so soon after I get out).

Friday night, she asked me how I felt. Pretty flat, to be honest. Orgasm is a massive let-down now, though at least I’ve already started to feel the build-up again. The floppy-floppy weirdness of the penis will wear off in a few days (along with the odd jellyfish-like gelatinous nature of my nuts – they’re so much more orderly when trapped by a steel ring).

Next we’re in an interesting period. The boy and I head out later this week to go camping on the west coast. We won’t be home until the 21st. Based on the conditions we’ll be in and the lack of essential privacy, I won’t be able to go with the Steelheart on. It needs to much hygienic maintenance. But, if the new Jail Bird arrives in time, it’s possible I could wear that. It wouldn’t be to keep me from doing anything since the lack of hygiene privacy will mean no masturbatory privacy, either. It’s really more about the control thing. Even when it’s not necessary, it’s there. All the time, it’s there. That’s what we both want. But, if the JB doesn’t land before I leave, it’ll just mean one or the other will go on as soon as I get home.

Now that I’ve come (and assuming she won’t let me do it again before I leave), I’m thinking about the next time it might happen. Belle likes to attach these occurrences to holidays or holiday-like events. My birthday is close to Labor Day, so that’s a possibility. In mid-October is our anniversary. Closer in, there’s a couple of weeks here and there when both kids will be absent at camp or visiting relatives. Those are also viable options. Or, since she’s reading this and knows I know how it works, she might skip over all those options entirely. Or she may not care and pick one anyway. In either event, I won’t know very far in advance and will have little choice.