Tag: D/s

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6/24/182.5

So, yeah, six months. That’s what we’re doing now. What’s up with that?

A casual observer will claim this is topping from the bottom. I suggested it to Belle so, therefore, I’m a bottomtopper (or whatever). In fact, it was a suggestion. I brought it up but also made clear to her that it was nothing more than a suggestion that she could decide to disregard or modify or whatever.

The logic in favor was pretty simple. She likes me better when I don’t come and am locked in the device. I like me better that way, too. So, why not see what would happen if I was put into an essentially orgasmless existence. No coming and no chance that I would at all for a long time. That’s an interesting element since the way she’s handled me before now, there was always at any time a chance she’d let me come. Now, according to her, I will not be coming – no chance – until mid-September. Will that change how I behave? Knowing that nothing I can do will grant me relief? That was one of the things she made me agree to before making the final decision that this was what we were doing. She’s going to hold me to the six month term absolutely.

There are downsides, of course, and mostly for her. She likes to fuck me. It will be very difficult to do that for any extended period if she’s really serious about not letting me come. Also, she seems to like letting me have orgasms. Not frequently, of course, but she enjoys seeing me enjoy them. So, committing to this means she will be sacrificing, too.

For me, this is about taking things to their logical extremities and seeing how that works. Truth is, I still do like to come. The moment of orgasm is utterly fantastic and, especially when they come so infrequently, totally universe exploding for me. I come so hard now that it feels like I’m turning inside out from the effort. Icy tingles run over my scalp and down my back. Probably the most intensely pleasurable sensations I’ve felt. Those measly little squirts over the bathroom sink I used to give myself with regular frequency aren’t even the same species of what I feel now.

But, everything else that I feel is so much more exiting and just plain better when I don’t get to come. Those nuclear orgasms are really great, but they happen so fast. Once I know I’m going to get to have them, it takes just one or two minutes for me to get there and then they’re totally spent in about ten seconds. In exchange for maybe five or ten minutes of bliss (including the post orgasmic drunkenness), I get hours and days and weeks and months of craving it. Constant tension and expectation and dripping precum. I don’t know if you’re like me, but when I fix myself on something I want, I find that wanting it is almost better than getting it. The actual obtaining of my desires is often (though not always) a bit of a let down. I’m sure there’s a clinical description of this phenomenon and I’m also sure it’s managed by brain chemistry. What I’m not clear on is if it’s a universal behavior or if it’s only present in some people (and if its presence makes one more likely to kink on orgasm denial).

So, I have essentially three questions I hope this experiment will answer:

  • Are longer, extended periods of one kind of mostly low-intensity pleasure (orgasm denial and craving) in exchange for incredibly short yet powerful bursts of pleasure more or less satisfying?
  • How does removal of any hope of orgasm change how I feel and act while being denied?
  • Is there a point of diminishing returns after which continued denial is actually detrimental?

Let’s just say that the answer to the first question is, yes, I a find long-term orgasmless existence more satisfying than infrequent yet occasional orgasms. Plus, let’s say that removal of any prospect of coming does nothing to abate the behavioral benefits Belle and I both recognize as the result of not coming and that extending the denial for a really long time doesn’t have its own adverse results. Would we be able to logically conclude that I don’t ever need to come again? If Belle could accept the changes that would mean to her preferred lifestyle, could this mean I actually do start living an absolutely orgasm-free life (or one that’s essentially so because they’d occur with extreme infrequency and probably accidentally)?

The answer to these questions can only be found in the fullness of time. Also, the answers might not matter if Belle decides that she’d still rather see me come every once in a while. While a lot of this territory feels like ground we’ve already covered, the big difference now is that I’m aware that this is a two person arrangement. While it is, obviously, about me, it’s only partly so. Wherever this experiment takes us, it has to work for us both.

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Drippy tube

So, to recap from the vacation, I was, indeed, locked up the entire time. Besides being out for the flight, the only other time she let me out was one morning when I went diving. Other that that, 24/7. I was, of couse, also out for the flight home, but we got back so late that she let me stay out that night.

Next morning, we were both home having taken the Monday after off as well, though the kids were at school. I was getting dressed and ready for the day when she asked me if I wanted to make her come. Well, fuck yes. Plus, being out, I figured there was perhaps a chance I could get the dick wet (though she had just started her period). No, though. I got her off with my fingers while she stroked the cock lightly, but just enough, so that I was always wanting more. Mixed with a few slaps to the nutsack, I was groaning right along with her when she finally came. Regardless, she got out of bed and left me there, hard and wanting. The cock bobbed and throbbed in the air while she went about her business unpacking.

Eventually, I got up, still hard, and went into the bathroom for my shower. I decided that my current state would not allow me to soap up without also playing with the cock, so I put the SH-S on. While the cock wasn’t rock hard at this point, it was still respectively pudgy so it was a bit of a trick getting everything through the ring and stuffed down the tube.

Something I haven’t mentioned here is that I have not been using the PA fixing with the new Steelheart. I found after a few days of wearing it that it was just too crowded in there and I was getting pinched. However, while I don’t need the extra security, it is so much hotter with the fixing in place, so it’s in there now. I woke up last night with a pinch, but took a leak to soften the meat and then repositioned things so that by this morning I felt no ill effects at all. I’m going to see it I can leave it in place for the rest of the week.

I’ll need to figure it all out by Saturday because Belle will be off on another one of her world tours. Two weeks of no Belle. I hate hate hate these trips, but there’s not much that can be done. In the middle of her absence, the kids and I are flying off to Grandma’s house for a long weekend, so I’ll need to use my key to get out prior to leaving and to secure everything again once we get back.

In any event, it’s been about two weeks since my last orgasm and stuff’s building up in there. Two mornings in a row, I dripped precum after my shower while getting ready at the mirror. I get why that was yesterday since she let me share one of her orgasms, but this morning was same old same old. Regardless, long ropes of thick clear fluid hung from the hole in the steel tube, sticking to the hairs on my legs.

Two weeks down, 24 to go. That’s a lot of morning drips.

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Horny + sick = bleh

I’m sick. Bleh. I feel like crap.

Usually, Belle’s sympathy for me in these situations would lead her to be somewhat more lax with regard to the enforcement of my chastity (meaning she’d let me take the thing off, not let me come), but I already had it off due to more penis head irritation.

This is the second time I’ve had this issue with the new Steelheart Short (SHS). It’s happened a few times in the old one, so I was willing to look the other way and just chalk it up to life in steel, but now it’s happened both time I put the device on after not wearing one for a while. The last time, after things had cleared up (usually takes about 24 hours), I was fine for two weeks. This time, I was also sick and felt miserable and was honestly glad to be rid of it, but this morning I woke up extraordinarily horny and sick. Since I’m at home and unsupervised, I voluntarily went back in. The last thing I need to do is waste my energy jacking off for 12 hours.

Anyway, about the irritation, I think it’s due to things being so cramped in there. In SH1, the head of the cock bounced around against the wall of the tube and only reached the bottom when it was becoming erect. In SHS, it’s against the curve of the end of the tube more frequently. I wonder how things would be different if I was uncircumcised (only for about the four millionth time in my life [And how screwed up is it that uncircumcised is only word we commonly use to describe the natural state of a penis that hasn’t been fucked with? Circumcision should start with “un.” Like “unnatural”. But I digress.]). Another factor I can’t put a finger on is urine. Every time this happens, I feel a burning when I pee (on the outside). What I’d like to know is can urine be acidic? Are there times when, if it’s allowed to remain in contact with skin, it will result in irritation? Usually, I’m good at shaking a lot of the excess urine out when I pee and cleaning it up at night, but that might be a factor. I suppose the Google could tell me…but I don’t want to look. I’m sick. *cough*

As I said last time, we’re about to go on vacation so I don’t expect to have any seriously uninterrupted tube time until we get back. Then again, Belle commented after my last post that perhaps we’d bring it along and use it for those times it was practical and only let me out when it wasn’t. We’ll see how it turns out.

I other news, Dan Savage linked to an interesting account of a guy who allowed his girlfriend to peg him since he was interested in anal sex with her. First off, good for him, right? Sounds eminently fair to me. The cool bit was this:

After it happened, I felt the same exciting relief I imagine a girl feels after losing her virginity on prom night. I never realized the incredible amount of bravery it takes to let someone inside you. It’s asking someone to stab you in the back, but lovingly. Masculine courage is throwing yourself headfirst into danger, like jumping out of a plane, but feminine courage is letting danger throw itself headfirst into YOU. It’s even more badass. I look at women like soldiers now, and older women as grizzled retired Generals that I wholeheartedly salute.

I also never realized how instantly bonding sex can be on the receiving end. I already felt close to her before we began our little experiment, but now I feel like she’s tattooed under my skin. Even though she was staying the night, I almost begged her to call me the next day.

I read that and I think, Wow, maybe there is hope for our culture. That’s just so awesome. But then I read this in the comments on Dan’s blog:

Ah yes, another bullshit masculine/feminine binary.

And I think, Oh Jesus, just fuck off, OK? Can’t we have heart-felt accounts of intimate acts? Does everything need to be passed through a bullshit sieve of some self-proclaimed thought cop?

Sorry. Sensitive topic, I guess. Anyway, I thought it was a beautiful piece (as, I hope, he was for his girlfriend).

Reader Mike left a comment to my last post:

Please don’t take this as criticism, but I wonder if your expectations on her are too high? It took me some time, but I had to realize that I was the one who wants to be locked up, and if I ever said I was done with it, than she would probably agree and move on without skipping a beat. I have a great wife, and she “plays the game” wonderfully, but in truth, its just an adventure, and not the epi-center of our relationship.

What I wrote was not to say, Gee, I wish Belle took this chastity thing more seriously. Rather, it was that I had stopped respecting it and its role in our relationship (and, ultimately, her right to put me in it whenever she wanted). In fact, Belle’s told me on several occasions that she prefers me as a mate when I’m locked in the device. She’s really not “playing the game” anymore. If I were to say I was done with it, I’m sure she’d go along, but there would be a great deal of conversation around the decision. It’s not just mine anymore.

And while I wouldn’t go so far as to say enforced chastity is the epicenter of our relationship, it is clearly a significant component. It has been integrated fundamentally into how we relate to each other and has radically changed how I perceive my body and its functions.

So, I’m no expert, and defer to your experience and machinations of your marriage, but ultimately, I have to guide my wife through this. I have to let her know that I’m ready to get locked up, and she plays the role well, but she is just supporting my fantasy. If I had never said “chastity device”, she would never have brought the cb-6000 into our life.

Clearly, our experience in the beginning was similar to yours. I brought chastity into our relationship and it took Belle a while to really own it in the way she does now. However, we’re way past the point where this is about my fantasies. This is about both of us and equally as much about how she wants me to be as it is about how I want her to be.

So, when you say “I know (I really do) that it’s all up to her in the end”, I wonder if you are correct? Who drives this element of your life really, you or her? If it is her, AWESOME!! But if this is really all about you, is it fair to ask her to think about your sexual fantasy 24/7 and be able to read your mind?

Enforced chastity has allowed us to be much more communicative, but as improved as all that is, there’s still a bit of mind reading that goes on because we’re both imperfect people.

Like I say, I’m not trying to be a jerk. I’m learning a lot from you, and am very new to chastity. However, I had to learn the hard way that this was more about my kinky ideas than hers.

I don’t think you’re being a jerk at all. Eighteen months ago, you would have been spot-on. Now, though, I feel like we’ve achieved the goal so many men think they want. That is, both partners being equally invested in the many benefits of controlling my orgasm. I am, as I have said so many times before to her and here, an extraordinarily lucky and thankful rabbit.

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Retrograde

I was in, I was out, I’m back in again.

She took me out last weekend and, as usual, I had no idea it was going to happen. She fucked me (or, I should say, let me fuck her) and apparently I was supposed to go back in the next day, but she neglected to follow-up in the morning so I didn’t and by the time she mentioned it that night I gave her kind of a face or something so she said something about taking a break. I took that to mean we were taking a break, but she didn’t, so I was apparently breaking the rules for a week or so.

Thing is, I had just come, so my inclination for incarceration was quite low. In these situations, I might know instinctively what I’m supposed to do, but I find reasons not to absent her firm hand. So, in any event, I was out and about for the week until Monday when she told me I would, in no uncertain terms, be going back in. But not before she let me come again. So, I’m back in, but my head’s not as I’m still recovering from the post-orgasmic subdrop (two in seven days!).

Truth be told, I’m happier when the cock’s locked up. It’s what feels normal and natural now. Being out feels like I’m getting away with something and just leaves me feeling a little out of balance. Regardless, I wasn’t inclined to put myself back in without her explicit direction. And that’s the other part of what feels normal and natural (and happier). I am, again, being “maintained” and cared for. I have her attention. And that makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside.

She was giving me shit about it last night. Wanting to know if I was suffering, etc. Come on, I said, it’d only been one day. How much suffering could there be? But, she said, she liked knowing I was squirming. She liked knowing my exact condition. And, she says, she likes me better in the steel.

So, I’ve been out (it seems) quite a bit lately. Also, it seems as though I’ve been coming a lot (though in reality, it’s hardly at all — that I’d ever think a couple of times a month was a lot says much about how I’ve changed). Next week, we head to tropical paradise for a week where she’s already said I’ll be out of the device for the whole trip (even the parts when I don’t have to be out for national security purposes). If past is prologue, I can probably expect some more orgasming. And the thing is, I don’t want any of it. I don’t want the cock to be free for any longer than it has to be and I don’t want to come. Not at all. Not for a really long time. I know I can’t wear the thing on the plane and I know there will be activities that will require I remove it and I know she’ll probably get frisky and want a romp and I know (I really do) that it’s all up to her in the end, but I also know that I, too, like me better when I’m starved for orgasm and without access to the meat.

I crave desperately to be back in that deprived state, craving desperately the thing I don’t want to have. Regardless, I’ll do what she says. If I get to come, I’ll enjoy it. If I stay out for the week, I’ll probably enjoy that, too. But that doesn’t mean I can’t hope for the other options. She and I both know it makes me a better man.

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Penis weaponization

The incomparable Ferns, in reference to the pictures I posted of the Steelheart Short in comparison to our original Steelheart, said:

I find it interesting that there is no ego in this. If it were me (and I actually *had* a cock and was going to wear a device and and… etc), I can imagine looking in the mirror and going ‘Well, *this* one makes my cock look like an awesome shiny weapon!! Huzzah!… whereas *this* one makes it look kind of short and stubby…”

Of course, now that I have given it a little thought, I do *exactly* this with strapons… “Awesome shiny weapon!! Huzzah!” Heh.

To which Tom replied:

Oh, believe me, we cock-having device-wearers do this all the friggin’ time. We just don’t feel the need to write about it because, well, that would be weird.

Which means I just have to write about it. Weird is my raison d’être, after all.

There are at least two sides of this for me. The first is quite practical. A shorter, smaller device is more comfortable to lug around for days on end. Less of an issue under clothes, less of a strain on the meat upon which it’s attached, etc. In addition, though it’s highly non-intuitive for this to be true, a smaller device can be more comfortable during erections than a larger one. It seems as though the sooner one stops the spongy tissues from becoming engorged, the less discomfort one will feel when it inevitably happens. After a few days, I can say the SH-S is at least as comfortable as the SH-1 while fully erect (at night) and very much more comfortable the rest of the time.

The second side to the issue is more woo-woo than pure practicality, though.

Before I start, I feel compelled to say I do not believe that large cocks or cocks in general have anything whatsoever to do with one’s ability to be dominant or assume a dominant role or that large cocked guys can’t be submissive or that mauve isn’t a completely acceptable color for your grandmother’s tablecloth or anything like that. I will remind you, what I write here comes from my head so a big chunk of it can’t be expected to apply out there where you all live, in The Real World.

Ferns touches on it herself when she says, “Of course, now that I have given it a little thought, I do *exactly* this with strapons.” I assume she’s using strap-ons on her submissive male sex partners and I also assume she uses them, among other things, as some sort of symbol of her dominance (if not, I will be happy to hear otherwise). Of course, my real cock is never used in that way. I gave it to Belle and she tops me so I am ill-prepared mentally to think of the cock as anything other than her tool with which she manipulates me. It’s size, therefore, is immaterial except that it needs to be the right length and girth to make her happy when she chooses to use it to pleasure herself.

Additionally, the cock she keeps in the device hardly ever plays a role in our sex except as a captive witness to it all. Recent activities excepted, I can go weeks or months during which Belle will have as many orgasms as she’ll let me share with her while the cock will only see what light gets though the little hole at the end of the tube. Again, its size does not matter since the basis of our sex life now, and the satisfaction she enjoys, in no way revolves around it.

Finally (and this is where I might piss a few people off), there’s a part of me that doesn not want a large cock or even to do anything that makes it look bigger or more impressive. I’ve written about this before. There is definitely a part of me now, which I trace directly to my growing acceptance and connection with my submissive sexuality, that gets off on the idea of having a small dick. Of course, I do not have a small dick. It’s totally average and satisfies Belle very well. But, it works for me to think otherwise. In fact, when I’m out and able to play with it, one of the quickest ways for me to get to the edge of orgasm is to fantasize that I have a little cock that’s not good enough for Belle. This is hardly unique to me (based on my purely scientific survey of the chastity porn out there). I’m sure there are a lot of guys reading this who can associate with my words and who are in the same boat or are actually small-dicked and are able to achieve the same kind of submissive and almost derogatory pleasure from it.

It’s taken me a while to become comfortable with these feelings. I recall the first times I read a story in which a man was too small to satisfy his wife and she either made him use a large strap-on or took a well-hung lover and how hard it made my heart thump. I resisted it at first. Men in our culture are conditioned to think cock size is to be desired above all other things. This is the same thing that perpetuates the myth that women want ever-larger members inside them and that the size of a man’s penis bears a direct relation to how well he can satisfy women. Of course, it’s all bunk and I already knew that, but still. It’s hard to let go. It’s hard to actually get off on the idea of being “inadequate”.

Long way to say, I have no problem at all with the SH-S making the package “short and stubby” looking. In fact, besides the practical considerations, it’s one the main drivers behind my satisfaction with the new device. As weird as that is.

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Steelheart Short

I came home yesterday to find that the new shorter Steelheart tube had finally (FINALLY) found its way to our mailbox. Because I’m the compulsive nerd that I am, I immediately rustled it away into the bathroom so I could check it out.

From this point forward, I will refer to my original Steelheart tube as SH-1 and the new one as Steelheart Short, or SH-S. Technically, there’s no “short” version of the Steelheart (unlike the CB6K) because a SH tube can be ordered in a almost any size you want, but I have to call it something, so SH-S it is.

My immediate reaction upon slipping it out of its drawstring bag was, “Holy crap, that’s small!” I ordered a tube 35mm in diameter and 70mm long, 35mm shorter than the the SH-1 but the same diameter. That’s exactly what I got, but in reality it seems smaller than I thought it’d be. My intention was to have a tube with a bit more room than the Jail Bird’s, but what I ended up with was something that feels about the same size. I thought I’d need a little more room due to the internal security features (PA fixing and ring), but there’s very little if any. Essentially, the SH-S is a closed version of the JB.

Fit and finish is, as expected, very good. Steelworxx makes an exceptionally well-crafted custom steel product. I have experience with only one other manufacturer of steel devices, but I have to assume that those from Steelworxx are among the best available. A thing of beauty.

The JB looks a little shorter and a little fatter than the SH-S, but I think that’s an illusion based on their different types of construction. The JB’s bars are thicker than the tube walls of the SH-S while the gap between the cage and the cuff ring is greater than that of the SH-S tube and ring (at least at the top of the device). The SH-1 is downright cavernous compared to the SH-S and also feels wider, though it isn’t. It’s a normal sensation to feel the end of he cock bumping around inside the SH-1’s tube (like a clapper in a bell) but I haven’t felt much movement inside the SH-S at all. Note that in the image comparing the two Steelhearts, the SH-1 is shown with its original 45mm cuff ring and the SH-S is shown with my standard 40mm ring.

The SH-S, like the JB, is practically imperceivable under normally fitting clothes. Much less obtrusive than the SH-1. Also, since there’s less room in the tube, it’s practically silent, even with the PA ring in place. It may be only a third shorter than the SH-1, but it feels less than half the size in my pants. Belle said she could tell it was on but that it only made me look well-hung (as opposed to the freak of nature the SH-1 must have made me look like). In the SH-1, the tube would, on occasion, be visible in all it’s long, fat, smooth glory while the SH-S just sort of makes the bulge more pronounced but without much definition of the device itself.

In action, while the JB and the SH-S appear to be similarly configured, they interact with erections differently. In the JB, the cock will attempt to get hard and bulge a bit out of the sides of the cage, but ultimately sort of bunches up behind the device. Instead of an erection, it feels more like a mass of hardness under the device. In the SH-S, however, the erection is allowed to take more of its normal shape, though inside my body. The SH-S raises up off my body more than the JB or SH-1 do and I can feel more definition of the erect shaft behind it. The SH-S might be a tad more comfortable during erection, but it’s just been one play session and night so far, so I’m not willing to make that claim yet. I did have to change my PA ring this morning from the larger, more secure one to the smaller one because there just wasn’t enough room for it and the cock inside the tube last night. I hope the smaller one will find it easier to live in there.

But, you might be asking, I though you weren’t going to get locked back up until Sunday morning? Well, that’s what I thought, too. I put the SH-S on last night just to take it out for a spin, but Belle decided I might as well leave it on indefinitely now, so I ended up sleeping in it. Following our experiment with virtual chastity, Belle has decided she’d rather have me in a device. While I followed the rules all week and only touched myself sexually when she gave me permission to do so, she says she preferes the sense of security the steel provides. She like knowing what state I’m in and that’s only possible when I’m locked up. Also, she says I’m a “better person” when I’m locked up. More focused and well behaved. I’m like, she says, a dog that prefers to sleep in his kennel because he knows it’s his home. Finally, I think she really has grown to like the look of the steel cock better than the real one. So. Yeah. I’m locked up two days early for who knows how long.

I’ve included pictures comparing the two devices while being worn (because you really wanted to see more pictures of me in steel, I know), but I put them after the jump because they’re obviously NSFW.

Continue reading “Steelheart Short”

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Feel the burn

Last night, after Belle went to sleep and told me I was allowed to play with myself, there was a point where I had stroked the cock so much that had I dared to even breathe on it, I would have had an orgasm. I had already milked seven thick slugs of ejaculate from myself without satisfying, even in the slightest, my need to come. I was able to pull up with the awareness of how close I was, but just prior I was in a place where I wanted it so bad that my hand wrapped around the cock formed a single thing upon which every molecule of my being was focused.

And then I let go. And the cock bobbed and quivered and flexed and I knew that if my fingers so much as as grazed the flared head of the cock, that I’d orgasm (most likely dryly). Thinking about it now causes a low thrum under the stiffening cock.

It was fucking torture. Fucking. Torture. The smell of the semen was everywhere and the taste of it was thick in my throat and its sticky sliminess was rubbed all over the cock shaft and between my fingers but I did not come. I dared not. It would be a betrayal of everything I lived for now, including Belle’s trust. I existed in that vaporous microscopically thin space between desire and control and it made me burn.

When I knew I had taken things as far as I possibly could, I cleaned up and went to bed. The cock leaked and leaked onto the sheets so that after 20 minutes I was laying in what felt like a post-coitus wetspot. Besides the leaking, the cock also stung from the abuse on its skin – skin that’s not too often abused that way and has become thin and sensitive. The ring flopped in the PA hole and caused the inside of the cock to feel raw and sore. But still, I wanted more. I wanted everything I could not have because it’s no longer mine to take.

My sleep was fitful and I often found myself cleaving to Belle, pressing the hard cock into her leg and putting my hands inside her bedclothes. I want her so bad. Then, now, always. I’m consumed by desire for her and the gift only she can give.

Living this way is so much harder than being in the device. So much more intense and distracting. Belle told me I was going back in on Sunday morning (which is an odd time), and truly, I will be thankful to have the cock put out of reach. Especially if she doesn’t let me come before the key turns.

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Gone virtual

“This is an experiment,” Belle said.

“You’re experimenting on me?”

“Well, you said you didn’t need the device anymore to remain chaste. Let’s see how that works for a while.”

This exchange took place about 50 hours after she let me out of the device, 36 hours after she fucked me, and about 8 hours after I assumed I was going back in.

Let’s rewind. She let me out on Saturday but decided to wait until Sunday morning to fuck me. At the prospect of having access to the meat again, I asked if I’d be allowed to play with it.

“No,” she said, “It’s coming out for my pleasure, not yours.” Fair enough. For however long I was to be free, I was not to pleasure myself with the cock.

Sunday morning, she fucked me. Climbed on top and rode me until she came. I was extraordinarily happy not to come before her, but that was due more to her wanting the cock as badly as she did than my ability to control my orgasm. I was about 70% of the way there and rising rapidly when she quickly came. Had she taken as long as she usually does, I would have been dead meat.

For a moment, I though she’d take the “mine, not yours” thing all the way to it’s logical conclusion, but she let me flip her over and fuck until I came. That took about two minutes and twelve seconds, then I spewed and spewed. It got all over the sheets, my leg, and (obviously) way up inside her. That stuff is nasty. Especially right after the event that causes it to emerge. Anyway…

As I’ve said lots of times before, one orgasm doesn’t do anything to satisfy my desires for more longer than a few hours. Then, it’s as if it never happened. By Sunday afternoon, I was right back in the hunt. I took a long hot bath and found myself on Kristen’s Archive which, for a man in my position, was perhaps not the smartest move I could make. Then again, while I had, at times, a very hard and very available erection right there, I did not stroke it. Not once.

So, that essentially leads up to the conversation that opened this post. I am, unsurprisingly, pretty worked up and my body is telling me, since everything is out there and flopping around, that I need to do something. Either take matters into my own hand or convince Belle to give me access or whatever. But no. She’s conducting an experiment. I’m now in virtual chastity. No device and no touching.

This kind of chastity has a different edge to it. In the device, my control is abdicated. The cock becomes a nonissue because it’s as if it doesn’t exist. Now, it does. And I have to touch it. It gets soapy and wet when I shower, it gets squished and squashed in my pants, and I have to handle it every time I take a leak. Plus, because I’m wearing the thick PA ring, it’s got heft and density all its own. There’s never a time I’m not aware of the unencumbered cock between my legs. Now, my chastity comes as a result of both her control and mine.

Of course, I’m not saying it’s better or worse. Just different. Hot in another way. I’m kinking on the constant temptation kept in check solely through my devotion to her control over my body, but I also really get off on the inescapable steel. About a week from now, Belle goes away on another business trip. I can’t imagine she’ll leave me to my own recognizance while she’s gone. Until then, at least, I’ll have to continue to resist temptation.

Posted on

Coupon

I’m going to get fucked this weekend.

Back on Valentine’s day, Belle gave me a card that, according to what was written in it, was good for “one night out”. I pressed her subsequently for more details. Was it just what is said? A night out? No, it meant I’d get to come. Just the one time? Yes. When would I have to go back in? The next morning. Could I use it whenever I wanted or did I need to give her some warning? Etc., etc.

But this morning, as I was groggily walking around the house with a steel tube still full of morning wood plumpness, she told me not to try to use my coupon this weekend because she felt the need to “connect” with her Thumper. I wasn’t going to use it, but it was nice of her to tell me.

Posted on

Permanence

Yesterday, over on Sarah Jameson’s Male Chastity Lifestyle list (of which, to be a member, you need to buy her guide to male chastity [which I think is worth your investment if you’re interested in the subject {OK, no more nested parathesis, I promise}]), the following question perked my interest:

Sarah has written about the behavioral changes that occur in a men and the consequent changes in a relationship because of denial. The state of denial is facilitated, if not made possible, by a chastity device.

Would anyone care to comment on the possibility that these changes could become permanent, no longer requiring a device. That is, could a man get to a state in which he voluntarily allowed his wife/lover/SO complete control of his orgasms? Would this be desirable?

I supposed, were I a good member of that list, I’d make my response there, but I’m not going to. (Imagine me with my thumbs in my ears, fingers waving about, and tongue sticking out.)

First things first regarding this question. I don’t believe the premise is quite right. That is, changes do not occur in the relationship or the man just because of the denial. The denial is, itself, one of those changes and provides the catalyst for further changes. I don’t question that our relationship has been impacted due to the integration of orgasm control, but the real precipitating event was that we became close enough and open enough with each other that the control of my orgasm was even a possibility. I think a lot of men confuse how the cause and effect works which leads to a lot of frustrated (in the bad way) people who believed orgasm control to be a panacea of relationship bliss.

So anyway, he goes on to say that denial is facilitated and even made possible because of a device. That’s how it was for me, yes. I very much needed the device to make my denial possible. I was so turned on by the prospect and so far removed from the mechanics of my own orgasm that I could barely control myself. Also, I said that the cock belonged to Belle, but when I had access to it, I didn’t act or even think that way. Had it not been for the device, I don’t know that it ever would have worked. That said, there are guys who don’t use a device and don’t seem to need it. Everybody’s different.

Now, though, I very much feel in my heart the things I wanted to feel two+ years ago when we started this. The changes the questioner refers to have been integrated into me to such an extent that the device is not, strictly speaking, necessary to maintain Belle’s control. In the beginning, I wanted her to control me, but didn’t really feel it. Now, I really do. Deeply.

For instance. You will read a lot of guys out there who want their partners to deny them more than their partners might want to. I was one of them (as anyone who’s read this blog long enough will know). When she told me I could come, I was disappointed. It never seemed long enough. Orgasms even left me depressed. Even though I had given her control and said I wanted her to control it, I felt she wasn’t doing it right.

Now, my attitude is totally different. I embrace my desire to come and will happily take whatever she gives me whenever that happens. In fact, I’ve kind of flipped around in that I want to come, and will tell her so, with a genuine hope that she’ll let me. I admit that there’s still a desire inside me to be denied by her for a very long time, but it’s driven by my need to demonstrate to her that I’ll endure whatever it is she asks me to. And even though I want to come badly most of the time, I still get a bigger thrill from her saying no. In essence, I’ve allowed myself to arrive at a place where I win either way.

Which, I guess, gets back to the second part of his question. I have gotten to the point he describes. Belle now has complete control over my orgasm and I wouldn’t want it any other way. I will niggle a bit with the “could a man get to a state in which he voluntarily allowed his wife/lover/SO complete control of his orgasms” part because, of course, all of this is voluntary. Yes, Belle locks an inescapable steel device onto my body, but it’s not there against my will and never was. Chastity and orgasm control/denial are only involuntary in the porn stories (as hot as they are).

To summarize, my answers to his questions are “yes” and “yes”.