Subsidence

My entire life, I can remember nothing but being attracted to all genders. Never, ever can I recall not finding just about anyone attractive. Even before I knew what sex was, I knew that sometimes there was another kid that made me feel funny inside. And they were always, always, always both boys and girls.

That said, it’s also always been the case that my relative attraction to one pole of the gender spectrum or the other ebbs and flows. If you imagine the Kinsey Scale and its zero to ten range where five is equally attracted to both ends, then I vacillate between three and seven. Thus has it always been. Which is to say, I’m never not attracted to either end of the gender spectrum (or, really, anything in between), but sometimes I lean more heavily one way or the other.

This was especially problematic when I was a teenager and I barely knew that “bisexual” was an option for me. All I saw around me was straight people and gay people and David Bowie. And whenever I thought, “Well, what am I going to be for the rest of my life?” (because that was the frame through which I understood sexuality), the fact that the foundation of my sexual preferences kept slipping and sliding around like Bambi on a frozen pond made me constantly struggle to know “what I was.”

You could say that that aspect of my sexuality is defined by constant, permanent flux. The variability of it is the only thing I have come to count on my entire life. So it’s really interesting to me how little variation there is in the other axis of my sexuality. I have no interest in being a sexual dominant. Zero. I am so close to being 100% submissive that if there was a Dom/sub version of the Kinsey Scale I’d identify as a zero (where, of course, the subs are the little numbers and the Doms are the bigger ones).

But, that sub energy is latent absent denial and chastity. That’s not to say I’m not a sub when I’m not denied. I have always had sex like a sub. I tend to want to bottom and I have always been focused on getting my partner off before me. I have always tended to serve, if not explicitly. But being denied the ability to have regular orgasms is like spraying lighter fluid into a campfire (not that I have ever done that nor would I encourage you to, either, if you like having things like eyebrows). If I’m not denied, I don’t become less submissive, I become more selfish. My D/s Kinsey number doesn’t go up, but my interest in expressing it wanes.

And it’s kinda weird to me how that works. My bisexuality doesn’t really change at all due to being denied. I’m way more horny all the time and find some things to be more of a turn-on when I’m denied, but my baseline preference for either end of the gender spectrum doesn’t really get impacted. My needle still bounces around on the gender gauge while it only pegs harder and harder to the left of the D/s gauge.

Heh. Pegs.

I recall when I first found chastity and the online community of people who practiced it that “you shouldn’t have to be locked up to be a good sub” was a thing that was often said. Hearing that made me feel like not a good sub since I knew I was way more into being that way the longer it had been since I last came. But, just like my variable kind of bisexuality, that’s just how I am. Since it was a topic of conversation then, in the mediaeval period of enforced male chastity, I can’t be that unusual.

This is something I’m thinking about because Belle let me fuck her for real about a week ago. And I “suffered” a massive sub drop because it’s pretty much impossible for me to put it in her anymore without blowing a load. And…I don’t know how to describe it. The pressure of denial inflates my sub persona and when one is gone the other goes and then I’m left feeling…different. It’s as if losing my sub energy is like losing access to a latent cone in my eye and suddenly a certain wavelength of color goes away for me. Until I build back a level of horniness that resurfaces my submission. It’s a part of me that’s become so familiar and dependable that its absence is keenly felt.

Luckily, all it takes to get it back is time. And a lock.

Back in my place

I’ve been back in the Steelheart for the past 21 days after briefly trying out a new device (the Cherry Keeper which was a bit of a disaster but I have another one coming so there’s no review yet). All through our summer vacation and up to this moment. I had it off briefly when we got home so I could give it a vinegar cleaning and shave my bits.

On the year, I’ve primarily been wearing the BA-31P and getting back into the venerable Steelheart has been interesting. It’s noticeably bigger and heavier than the BA-31P and, since I’ve spent the equivalent of 1,261 days in the Steelheart since I’ve been tracking time locked up, a very palpable sense of familiarity with it. Of all the devices, and even as much as I like the BA-31P, the Steelheart is and always will be home.

There was a moment during our trip before Belle let me get her off when I was feeling somewhat on edge and a bit despondent at the length of time that had passed since I was able to get to her pussy. The weight and bulk of the Steelheart made me super aware and even self-conscious about wearing it in front of her. Which is quite odd for me. It’s much more usually the case that I feel self-conscious when the contents are exposed but, in that moment of unhappiness I was struggling with, why was I locked up? What is the purpose of being locked in that steel when nothing at all is happening?

It’s been said by me and other chastity bloggers that enforced male chastity is not a “set it and forget it” kind of thing. Being separated from the contents absent any external stimulation is psychologically challenging. The lack of stimulative sexual energy that comes from being denied during sex allows the device to transform back from an integrated part of my body into a hunk of metal. And there was a specific moment when I was naked and climbing over Belle to get out of bed when my legs were spread wide and the Steelheart was dangling and swaying and pulling on me where I was suddenly very conscious of its foreign metalness. It made me wonder to myself What is the fucking point of this thing?

I write that from my current frame of mind which is horny as fuck and it’s hard to really appreciate where I was then. Now, I see the Steelheart as a fundamental aspect of my body. I wear some kind of device more than almost anything else that comes into contact with my body. Only my wedding ring and earrings are on more and maybe not even my wedding ring which I take off a couple times a week for things like the application of skin lotion. Right now I cannot consider myself complete with unlocked and exposed contents. But back then, it felt very foreign.

So, to answer the question from past me, the point of the thing is actually pretty simple. And it’s one I need to work on never forgetting. Fact is, I do not deserve to be any other way. I. Do. Not. Deserve to have a penis that is free and can grow during erection or be played with. Not now. Not before I figured that out, and not after. Not ever. That reality is fundamental to who I am. Since getting back into my normal headspace, reminding myself of that truth is something I’ve been doing daily, usually as I’m going to bed and trying to fall asleep.

I do not deserved to be unlocked.

I don’t pretend to know how this works. Why some men should never be locked and others can take it or leave it while those like me should never be any other way. But that’s how it is. And that’s how I am.

But beyond that, the device (whichever device I’m in) is a perpetual demonstration of my commitment to Belle. I’ve agreed to The Rules and by being locked up regardless of whether or not I’m horny or she’s horny or we’re having sex or not, the physical barrier between me and the contents are a simple fact of my status like the ring on my left hand. This one doesn’t project that status to the world (unfortunately, outside the readers of this blog and my Twitter followers), but it’s important for her to see.

And in a lot of ways, the device I’m in is part of my identity. Alpha studs have their cocks they swing around and chastity subs have whatever is locked on them. If I’m not locked up I feel like there’s a loss of something internal to me. It makes me feel imbalanced and inauthentic.

Finally (at least for this post) there’s the fact that the device’s contents just aren’t that worthy of freedom in the first place. Belle has left it locked up for longer and longer lengths of time and, when I ask about that, she says she just prefers me that way. Prefers me to get her off with my fingers or mouth. Probably can’t come that easily from my penetration anymore, especially since when she does let it out, it doesn’t provide her with much pleasure and barely barely lasts but a few minutes at best. I’m sure I get more pleasure than she does from it and, as such, if she can’t be bothered to let me out, then what right do I have to be any other way? Sex is not for my pleasure. My pleasure is reflected from hers and whatever she allows me to have directly is a gift that needs to be cherished.

I should probably bookmark this post and remember it for the next time I’m in a funk about being locked up. I need to remember that I don’t decide when we have sex, she does. And it’s not about me. And that she cares about me and what I’m feeling even when what I want isn’t possible.

Essentially, I need to bookmark this post when I need to be put back in my place.

Dog blocked

Belle and I are on our mid-Summer RV road trip. I say “mid-Summer” because it’s technically true (the days are getting shorter now) but we’ve found in the Rockies (both Canadian and where we are now in West Glacier, MT) the local version of mid-Summer is still 2-4 weeks away.

In any event, part of my issue with this trip has been one of our dogs. She’s adorable and I love her but she’s a rescue and emotionally needy to such an extent that, if we had her right after we got married, I’m pretty sure we never would have had kids. Her M.O. is to maintain a position directly between us every morning no matter what we do. When we’re at home and can distract her with breakfast and close doors, that’s fine. But in our trailer there is no door between the bed and the rest of the space and she’s…persistent. Her pointy little nose works its way into the most tight embrace.

That led to me not being able to get Belle off for longer than I would have to go otherwise. Sure, I’ve gone longer, but usually because we’re apart. In this case, she’s right there but our canine cock-blocker (if you can even say someone in my position is being blocked that way) can’t be sequestered anywhere long enough to allow me to attend to business.

Except for yesterday morning. Our dog was in bed with us, but off to the side(!!) and didn’t make her usual move to get between us. So we took advantage of the opportunity.

At that point where Belle was juuust about to hit the point of no return, I found myself sympathetically moaning in an almost whining kind of way. I was tensed up like I was about to come instead of her. I needed it that badly. For days I had been short tempered and generally grumpy and this was why. Not that I needed to come. Of course not. Because I’m me, I needed to feel her come. I needed to feel her pussy spasm in orgasm under my finger while the tube of the Steelheart pounded between my legs. I needed to feel the animal desire to stick myself into her wet warmth. To feel that craving gnaw at me. And it did.

It was several minutes of anguish and pain. Even more than usual. Much more than usual. She could see on my face something was up and asked if I was OK. Then I was presented with the kept and denied man’s dilemma. I could say, “GODDAMN IT I WANT TO FUCK AND COME,” but my rules say I can’t ask for that and I really, really, really only want to get to do it when she wants, not when I want, and by even saying I’m that desperate I could sway her into giving it to me out of pity but I know — I know — I am not deserving of that pity. So I’m sitting there roiling inside, unable to say what I want because it’s not supposed to matter (and I do not believe it does) and, besides, do I really want it anyway?

So after a few seconds, I simply said, “I’m fine.”

Minutes later, the worst of it was past. My balls felt enormous and tender and the tube was still full and I could tell it was sticky inside, but the weight of not getting her off, which is all that matters, was lifted. I felt better the whole rest of the day. And yeah, I want to do it again, but I’m able to better process that I don’t decide when it happens. I’m better able to deal with the wait.

Later that day, we were on an open-top bus tour of Glacier National Park and she was sitting next to me and had her hand alternatingly on my thigh or forearm and absentmindedly was moving her fingers over my skin. It was like fire. Perhaps unknowingly, she was silently tormenting me with that simple touch because I was so on edge and so needy and so desperate. The tube kept pressurizing and my mind kept racing and I was all frantic sexual energy on the inside. But managed to maintain my cool on the outside.

That one orgasm — her orgasm, not mine — allowed me to center myself. To feel more like me. And it happened even with the damned dog laying there next to us.

Badass Workroom BA-31P review

Badass Workroom (BAWR) is, as far as I can tell, a relatively new entrant in the male chastity device market. I first found out about them in the fall of 2021 and I ordered the device I’m reviewing today, the BA-31P, on December 1, 2021. Notably, it was a totally custom steel device that was ordered, manufactured, shipped and received all inside of a month. I am unaware of any maker in the space that can deliver that quickly.

I’m sticking the rest of this after a jump due to NSFW images…

Continue reading “Badass Workroom BA-31P review”

Be ready

Belle let me come last weekend. She gave me the key Saturday night meaning I was to go though my routine the next morning while she slept so that I’d be ready when she woke up. I call it “my routine” but that post I just linked to might be the last time I did it so I’m not sure one can use the word “routine” for something that happens so infrequently.

I don’t think the date of that post is the last time she let me out to fuck/orgasm, but I don’t know for a fact that it wasn’t. I know I don’t have a distinct recollection of it happening after that event and know it hasn’t happened at all this year. So, perhaps, it was five months ago. Minimally more than three months ago.

I also don’t know if Belle has any specific idea about how long she makes me wait. I presume it’s dependent on when she wants to feel me inside her, but I also think she knows that can’t be too often while also keeping me in the headspace she likes me in. Since I don’t keep track (anymore) of when I get to come, I also can’t know if there’s a pattern, but my guess is she’s on pace for 3-6 times a year based on my faulty memory and limited evidence. I think about how I used to come that much in a week just before we started using chastity…

Anyway, thanks to the Viagra and Promescent (and my phone), I was laying there with a mostly numb, incredibly hard erection when she was ready to commence activities. It took a lot of effort on my part not to rush things while trying to get her to orgasm first, but she was also apparently impatient and told me to go inside her before I got her all the way off.

When I’m in the situation of the chemicals making me as hard and sensitive as a rock, all I can really feel well is the tightness and heat of her pussy. It leaves me feeling overconfident and, even while trying to distract myself with even breathing and thoughts of baseball, it isn’t long before I realize the end is nigh. I do last longer with the spray, but it probably still wasn’t more than a couple minutes.

It felt like orgasm wouldn’t end. Even after I had shot my load, I felt involuntary contractions trying to milk as much juice as possible. My whole body arched around the erection. My abs actually kinda cramped from the effort.

When will it happen again? Will it be five months? Five weeks? Five days? Tomorrow!? No idea. I don’t even bring it up. I’m not allowed to either 1) ask for an orgasm, or 2) advocate against one so I tend to just not talk about it at all with her for fear of it being misconstrued as one or the other. Of course, it doesn’t matter. I don’t need to do it and I certainly don’t need to know if and when she wants it to happen again.

In a way, that total lack of control creates its own kind of peace. All I have to do is be ready for whatever she wants.

Meditations for the chastity submissive

Being a man kept in chastity isn’t something you just do. I mean, sure, you can just do it. Order a device on the interwebs and lock it on yourself the very moment it arrives. Then…wait. In fact, that’s exactly what I did. But being locked up and being what I like to call kept* are different things. Some people only want to be locked up for a play session or a weekend or whatever, that’s cool. But some of us, when we feel the tightness build inside the devices locked on their bodies, want — need — more than that. We realize we’re different. That the act of locking us up somehow sets us free. Libéré en étant enfermé, etc.

But it’s still hard! It’s a struggle of wills between millions and billions of years of evolutionary programming and our higher brain’s infinite ability to think and overthink and twist the commands written into our DNA into so many figurative pervertable objects found in the hardware store of our imagination. And since I’m looking back at more than 13 years of being kept in chastity (yeesh), I have been pondering some useful ponders that penis-having people earlier in their journey might find helpful.

I guess I’d call them meditations on chastity and denial. Hey, there’s this post’s title. These are mental practices I’ve learned over the years that have helped me transform from what I was — dick-thinking, orgasm-chasing, under-appreciative of my partner, ultimately dissatisfied with myself — into what I am: a chastity submissive. Centered, appreciative, and feeling more myself and right than I ever have.

Maybe they’ll be useful for you or someone in your life, too.

Note: This is written from the point of view of someone who has another person in their life holding their key and with whom they have sex. Self-locked guys can still get something from it, but it's not my experience so it's not a perspective I can write from.

Acceptance
You need to accept and understand that you want to be kept in chastity. You (almost certainly) asked for it. And when you did that, you gave someone else control over…all kinds of things. When and how you have sex. When and how you achieve orgasm (if ever). And you know that’s how you want it to be. You know it’s how you’re supposed to be.

I have found it immensely helpful when I get to a point where I find the denial more than I can bear to meditate on that last part in particular. I am supposed to be this way. I can’t change it. I can’t help it. And fighting it is senseless and counterproductive. So I will, in those moments of quiet, solitary struggle, repeat to myself until I find calmness: This is who and what I am. This is my normal, natural state. I cannot change it. And, honestly, I don’t want to.

The other aspect of acceptance is the realization that whatever hot chastity porn ideas you brought into your dynamic with your keyholder are not reality. Once that whole other real person is involved — the person you’ve asked to be responsible for your key and the denier of your orgasms — what they want and how they want to do it suddenly becomes more important than your solo (probably masturbatory) fantasies.

Patience
It’s all too easy to get carried away on a wave of sexual frustration and try to climb into the driver’s seat sexually. I recall being super frustrated and that leading me to be very pushy when it came to initiating sex. It’s easy for a chastity submissive to forget that their partner/Dom(me)/keyholder is, in fact, pretty sexually satisfied and not thinking about sex all the time. The impatience of denial is corrosive to the dynamic of chastity submission.

It’s important to b-r-e-a-t-h-e when the waves of frustration are breaking over you. To not let that frustration manifest as aggressive behavior towards your keyholder. That’s a sure-fire way to turn off the one person you’re most invested in turning on.

Eventually, your urges have to learn they’re in the back seat. By design. And that when you do get to engage sexually, you benefit from being patient and slow and savoring the time you get pleasuring them. In whatever form that takes.

Attentiveness
I think the most important thing a chastity sub can do is to learn their partner/Dom(me)/keyholder’s pleasure preferences as well as they know their own. To learn exactly how their orgasm develops, their stages of pleasure as they build toward that moment, where they can be drawn out to maximize that pleasure, the tactics to employ if they seem to be drifting out of the zone, and when to pull back when you’re going too hard or fast. Pay attention to them.

It’s not that I think sex should not be enjoyable for a chastity sub. Of course it should. But it’s critical to learn how to make their pleasure your pleasure. The act of pleasuring them becomes the main point of the exercise. Learning that ensures that a chastity sub will always get some level of satisfaction when having sex, regardless of whether the key shows up.

Mindfulness
I don’t think one can be attentive without also being patient. One cannot be patient without learning acceptance. These concepts build on one another. And it’s the act of being mindful of how these concepts interlock and thinking about how that redefines a chastity sub as a sexual being where it all comes together. I spend a lot of time thinking about these things. Interrogating my motivations and critiquing my behavior.

It’s how I came to peace with my status as a chastity sub. To accept my place in sexual relationships. Like I said up above, my body and how it reacts to the chemicals it produces as a result of being denied conspire to make persistent mindfulness a necessary part of my submission.

Gratitude
It’s probably the case that you, the one who wants to be locked up and denied, brought the idea into your relationship. It’s also probably the case that your relationship pre-dated your admission to wanting these things. Which means the person acting as your partner/Dom(me)/keyholder probably didn’t ever think they’d being in a relationship like the one you want.

Note: I say all this knowing that the increasing visibility of chastity in porn and even popular culture means more and more people will not be in the same boat as a lot of guys who got into it before it became "popular." But I think it’s still the case, especially in male-female couples, that the majority of them are as I described above. Regardless, I think the following applies. 

By definition, locking a guy up and taking his penis off the menu means their partner/Dom(me)/keyholder will be giving up the device contents, too. At least some of the time. And even if that’s somehow not the case, they are acting as keyholder. Which is not without responsibility. In either event (or both), they’re investing time and energy keeping you in your state and dealing with the consequences. Plus, they may need to reprioritize how they get off. Learn new ways or be open to different types of activities or techniques that perhaps they never even considered previously.

And, of course, most importantly, the person holding your key has accepted you as you are. Your non-standard, not-taught-in-any-Disney-movie needs and desires. And being accepted is perhaps the greatest gift you can get.

* Yes, I will keep trying to make this a thing FOREVER.

Reflections on the care and feeding of a locked penis-having person

A few days ago, Locked Doc wrote a post called “How to Own a Permanently Locked Sub.” And it’s great and while I was reading it, I was thinking, Damn, why haven’t I ever written something like this? Well, turns out, I did. Something like it, anyway.

My post is/was called Keyholding 101 and dropped in August of 2015 and explains why I didn’t remember it because, Jesus, have you seen how many posts on here? So I re-read it as if I’d never seen it before (because I honestly have no recollection of it) and, I’m happy and relieved to report, I still agree with what I said (and how I said it).

My post was written very much with female keyholders in mind. Doc’s is written from an all-male perspective but, also, for someone who doesn’t necessarily hold the key since, you know, open relationships are thing. So they’re both really interesting and complimentary posts, though I think anyone of any gender in a relationship with chastity as a core dynamic can get something from what each of us wrote.

I was struck with how similarly we hit certain points. Doc wrote…

First off, I do agree that there is no ONE RIGHT way to do chastity. What works between two consenting adults is all you need to worry about, so you’re going to have to talk about it.

And I wrote…

I’ll say right up front I’m not about to lay out the One True Way. Every person in every relationship, not only sexual ones or kinky ones or ones involving hardware on penises, needs to find how they’re made satisfied and happy by it.

Doc also wrote…

We think about our cages ALL THE TIME. We know you don’t, but it is a huge part of our identity, and we need you to acknowledge and appreciate it. Even if its just a comment here and there about our locked status, we need to know you acknowledge the commitment we have made. An occasional grab or a remark will be very appreciated and will make us feel as though you “get us”. The more you acknowledge our locked status, the more turned on we get, just FYI. Most of us want to hear that, we really crave it, in fact. If you want to own locked property, you are going to have to pay attention to it, even if its to tell us that you don’t think about it (ironic, but it’s true). Just don’t ignore it.

And I said…

The only things he really needs from you is an understanding that you haven’t forgotten he’s locked up, you appreciate this predicament, and you take the key very seriously. There are countless stories on the web about those who get talked into holding a guy’s key even though they’re not really into the idea and they “set it and forget it.” This is the worst from the locked man’s perspective. As a keyholder, you’re really only reminded of the chastity dynamic when you can see his locked penis or he says something to you about it or you want to have sex. For him, it’s something he’s aware of all of the time. If you lose sight of that fact, chastity can feel very lonely and even pointless for him.

Doc said…

If you hold the key, recognize it for what it is. It’s a gift from us and we see it as a sacred responsibility. 

And I said…

He needs to know you cherish the “gift” of male chastity and know it can be hard (even if that knowledge won’t get him out of the device any sooner).

I’m not going to quote his whole post. You should check it out if you have not already. I think that Doc guy is a pretty reasonable fellow which explains why he and I are hosting occasional Twitter Spaces on the topic of chastity. Our first one was last Saturday. Check that out, too, if you have not. You can even join us next time!

Cobra chastity review

Gather ‘round, children, and let me tell you about The Bad Old Days of male chastity when devices were made of hard injection molded plastic and had sharp edges and seams that would split and trap sensitive penis skin when under pressure. Note, this is after the Ancient Old Days when chastity devices were made of spare chain link fence parts or mastodon tusks and nails or whatever (looking at you, Tom). What I’m talking about is the glimmering dawn of male chastity as relatively mass-produced consumer devices. Model T chastity devices, as it were.

I mean, it’s hard for me to fathom why any of us so inclined put up with things like the CB-6000. But I’ve ragged on that thing enough on these pages and will decline to do so again. It’s enough to say we kinky people will put up with a lot of shit to scratch our twisted itches.

So I think it says more than I ever could about the mainstreaming of male chastity that we have options like the KINK3D’s Cobra. In a lot of ways, it’s the perfect realization of what a standard issue male chastity device should be.

Honestly, I’m amazed by the Cobra. It’s simple and well made and is an awesome choice for someone thinking about playing around with being on either side of a key. It is not the best device for me, but I’m grizzled and pierced and can still remember that CB6K base ring and its right angle edges. *shudder*

I got the Cobra because I was seeing it everywhere. A lot of guys in the Twitter porn were sporting it all of a sudden, and maybe it’s just me and my personal Twitter bubble, but it seemed to be really popular with the gays. So, of course, I needed to know what it was about. Mine came from Mr. S and the only difference I can see between those and how KINK3D sells them is what each size is called. I got a “tight” one which is the second smallest Mr. S option. It looks like the “N+” size on the KINK3D site where, interestingly, it’s the third smallest option.

The design of the thing is dead simple. Two pieces not counting the lock. A pair of tabs on the cage slip into a pair of slots on the ring and, of course, the two halves of where the lock goes on each. They fit together firmly and there’s a minimum chance of accidental pitching as long as you’re paying attention.

Cobra N+ next to the Holy Trainer v4 Nano

The device it begs to be compared to is the similarly stellar Holy Trainer v4. How are they the same but different?

  • The Cobra is an open cage while the Holy Trainer is a (mostly) closed tube.
  • They’re both just two parts, but the Holy Trainer fits together in one place while the Cobra has three contact points.
  • The Holy Trainer is slightly more bulky and has more plastic but, in wearing them, it doesn’t seem that way.
  • The Cobra N+ weights 27.8 grams while the Holy Trainer Nano (the closest in size to the N+) comes in at 52.5 grams. That’s a big difference but in practice it’s imperceptible.
  • The Holy Trainer is available in dozens of colors while the Cobra is available in any color you want as long as it’s dead sexy black.
  • The Holy Trainer comes in five tube sizes and has five base ring sizes (25 combinations) while the Cobra comes in eight cage sizes and seven base ring sizes (56 combinations) but also has three base ring styles (168 combinations!).
  • The Cobra is 3D printed while the Holy Trainer is injection molded “bioresin.” Neither have sharp edges.
  • The Cobra ranges in price from $155 to $185, depending on size, while the Holy Trainer goes for $165 for all sizes or $185 if you order a color other than clear, black, or pink.

At the end of the day, I don’t really see any huge advantages for either of them. The vastly larger number of size combinations for the Cobra have to give it something of a practical edge, especially for guys with non-standard penis shape/size, but the Holy Trainer has a size for most penises, too. Every other one of those attributes is either a push or personal preference thing. I find both to be very comfortable. The Cobra, also like the Holy Trainer, tends to lay flatter than options like the Evotion 8 so ends up being stealthier (if that’s important to you).

The only real downside of the Cobra I found is that it ended up being stinkier than the Holy Trainer (or any other device I wear). My theory for why that happens on me is some combination of how the cage nestles into my testicles and therefore traps urine leaking from my PA piercing. I’m not an especially squeamish one when it comes to hygiene (and, truth be told, can kind of like the funk of the Steelheart), but this was too much even for me. Easily fixed, of course, with a bit of a wash, but still noticeable.

Related, I found vertical urination to be less reliable than with the Holy Trainer due to my PA and the open cage design. If you’re not pierced, you only need to make sure the crossbar at the end of the cage isn’t in the way and you’ll be good to go.

If you do have a PA, neither the Cobra or Holy Trainer have security options to accommodate you listed on their sites. I did try a PA ring with the Cobra to enhance security but, as usual when doing this kind of thing with cage-style devices, found the instances of pinching to be intolerable.

One super clever accessory KINK3D offers is something they call the Airlock. It makes a totally metal-free, key-free, numbered locking option and is pretty genius IMO.

So, there you have it. If you have an un-pierced penis, regardless of size or shape, the Cobra is basically perfect. But so’s the Holy Trainer. So what’s more important to you? Colors? Closed versus open? Do you just like the look of one more than the other? I mean, you can’t lose with either.

Together, the Cobra and Holy Trainer are the dead-simple, no-brainer male chastity devices for both those just starting down their locked path or who have been skipping along it for years. Two options that are light years more advanced than what we had to choose from a decade ago and, I think, an indication of how mature and — dare I say — popular male chastity has become.

The two types

It seems to me there are two kinds of men in chastity.

  1. Men with cocks locked in chastity devices
  2. Men with chastity devices

I think way back at the dawn of time when Belle locked our first CB6K on me, I was definitely the first type. And a lot of guys are always going to be that type. For them (and their keyholders), chastity is a means to an end. They use it tactically to enhance their sex lives and make the inevitable release, fucking, and orgasm as mind-blowing as possible. For sure, all the second types start out as the first type. As I did. But then we find ourselves in a new place. Where being locked up is no longer a means to an end. It is the end. You do it for it.

And to the first type, the second type will either seem totally crazy, which means they’ll always be the first type, or totally terrifying. As I did. And that fear, I think, is the best indication that they’re not going to become the second type. They already are the second type.

There are lots of examples I can think of in my own sexuality where I was confronted with something I had no conception of that scared the hell out of me only later to realize it was me. If you’re not into something, it either squicks you out or you think it’s hilarious or crazy or whatever. But the fear is rooted in something else. It’s self-realization fighting with shame.

I can recall the first time I read accounts of cuckolding. Of being cuckolded. I recall how it made me tremble. Of how panicked it made me feel. Because I saw myself in it in a way I did not expect. And I had to deal with what that meant. Of how I had to reassess my understanding of myself.

I think with chastity and denial it was slower, but the same. In the early days, I was frustrated at Belle for locking me up but then not letting me have as much sex with her as I wanted. Perhaps in an attempt to get me to leave her alone, she’d let me go unlocked and allow me to edge myself for hours in bed next to her while she slept. I’d literally jack off for hours, frothing myself up, leaking like the Titanic and making our bedroom stink of ejaculate. I mean, honestly, in retrospect. What the absolute fuck was that about?

Letting go of preconceptions about oneself is hard. I spent the first 40 or so years of my life defining my sexuality around the contents of the Steelheart. I was always leaning into submissiveness since I always wanted to get my partner off first and was very invested in their pleasure, but I also very much expected and felt entitled to my pleasure. I had pride of penis. Of its role and primacy. I can even remember arguing with Frodo way back in high school about whose dick was bigger. And thinking mine was. I mean, honestly, in retrospect. What the absolute fuck was that about?

Losing my pride of penis was scary and hard because I had to come to grips with being the kind of submissive that was almost entirely focused on my partner’s pleasure to such an extent that mine was totally ignored. And that being denied like that was how I found my pleasure. A satisfaction and contentment far in excess of post-orgasmic stupor. I had to let go of being the archetype male who is the sexual aggressor and penetrator and whose sexual release is celebrated over all things and become instead…this other thing. The second type of man in chastity. The type who lets go of his penis, figuratively and literally. A type of man we have no archetype for.

And, of course, this is who I am. And it no longer scares me. It provides me comfort. I am living my true life.

It’s impossible to imagine finding myself here without Belle. She had to adapt to what I needed nearly as much as I needed to adapt to being kept as I am. She never signed up to be married to a kept sub bottom who didn’t want to (and now barely can) fuck. She likes being fucked. Riding my hard-on was her preferred way to come. But she’s allowed her body to relearn some things to accommodate me. We’re not sure she can come from penetration anymore. It’s all digits and tongues now for her.

I can’t ever really express how grateful I am to her. Her understanding and generosity.

But, getting back to this post’s premise, there are two types of locked men. It’s worth asking yourself which type you are. Are you appalled at the idea of letting go of your cock? Or are you afraid of it? Or do you aspire to it?

There’s nothing wrong with either type. You are who you are. Embrace it.