Tag: enforced male chastity

Posted on

The campfire rule

Good news is, the Steelheart didn’t wake me up as I expected last night. Bad news is, that’s because I barely slept. Yes, the Steelheart did wake me up from time to time between fitful periods of sleep, but it wasn’t due to discomfort as much as it was obvious to me I was wearing it again.

As I’ve said, that first orgasm after a long period of denial is pretty crappy (like the one from Saturday). The impact of coming following such a period of inactivity lands with a thudding implosion, not the sky full of fireworks you might expect. It’s the second one that lights up the night like the 4th of July. But I didn’t get a second one, did I? No I did not.

I’ve said before that long term denial isn’t like climbing an endless roller coaster incline into the sky, ever more horny and turned on until release. There’s a period in the first week or three when starting from zero where one can find themselves feeling that way, but once you get past that it’s more of a slow burn. I find it’s not so much that I’m ever more horny, just that I can get really turned on in the blink of an eye. Also that when I do get turned on, I get really turned on. But then it subsides into the background radiation of everyday horniness again.

It used to be, one shot and I’d lose all the effects of being denied. But that was then when I assume my body was still adjusting from pretty much always getting orgasmic release when it wanted it. As time went on and the periods of denial lengthened, things changed. Now that first time is not the reset it once was. But it does play a role.

Now it’s basically a set-up for the next time I come. Like dumping kerosene on a campfire, the intensity of my denial flares up and rages. If I come again in the days that follow, then it’s a near-total reset. The campfire burns itself out. But if I don’t come again, I’m a basket case of unrequited desire.

And that’s why I didn’t sleep last night. Being back in the Steelheart gave me just enough of a boost to make it so I couldn’t stop being turned on. Every movement in bed reminded me I was back in the heavier device. A persistent radioactive need nestled inside the hard steel and burned in my imagination. But I eventually did sleep. I don’t know how much, but it was after midnight before I got there and I kept waking up. I never got to the point where I was so asleep that the raging nocturnal erection happened because every time it started to plump up a bit the feeling woke me up again.

But yeah, I did sleep. I repeated my mantra and allowed myself to feel as I felt. I didn’t let it panic me. I let it happen and relaxed into it. I didn’t get good sleep, but I got some and the difference between a little crappy sleep and none at all is huge.

I suspect tonight will be more normal. Eventually, the kerosene will burn up and leave my denial campfire as it normally is. I can’t stay like this forever.

 

Posted on

Belle’s favorite

For the past several days I’ve found myself thinking more and more about the Steelheart. I had intended to wear the Halfshell for 1,000 hours minimum before even considering asking Belle to change it with another (so I could write a follow-up to its review), but had also somehow figured that wouldn’t happen until sometime in January. Imagine my surprise, then, when I discovered I’ve actually already worn it for over 1,300 hours. Once that figure was in my brain, I jonesed for the Steelheart like Augustus Gloop sucking on Wonka’s chocolate river.

6463b335-3994-450c-8aeb-8843d584c219
Hello again, beautiful.
I said something about my intention to ask to be put back into the Steelheart on Twitter and was asked why if the Halfshell was a better fit. It’s true, I think the Halfshell is a fantastic device. In many ways, superior to any other device I’ve worn. Very well fitted to me, so it’s fantastically comfortable. Not unlike the Steelheart, it’s totally secure. Plus, it’s quieter and makes a more natural-looking bulge under my clothes. If this were all about logic, the Halfshell would win every day of the week.

But, I’m not logical. In fact, the need to be in the Steelheart again is more emotional than sensible. For example, there’s a part of me that thinks the Halfshell is almost too easy to wear. It never gives me any reason to complain. Never pinches. Barely wakes me up. I don’t even need to lube the silly thing to wear it comfortably. Some guys will read that and line up for one, I get that. But I think there needs to be a certain level of physical discomfort with enforced chastity. Not the kind of torture that comes with a squared-off plastic A-ring or a tube filled with anti-erection spikes. But just enough to make you know you’re being kept. Truthfully, the Steelheart is probably a little too over that line (especially at 3:00 AM), but the Halfshell is clearly well before it.

There’s also the aesthetics. The Halfshell is ingenious, truly, but I find the clean, simple lines of the Steelheart to be far more attractive. I also very much appreciate how the Steelheart totally hides its contents. I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about how the Halfshell might be modified to make it enclose more of the penis and may communicate with Rigid about coming up with a cleaner, custom-designed device, but until then the Steelheart cannot be beat from an appearance standpoint, at least for me (and Belle, but I’m getting to her).

The next motivation is totally mental and distinctly personal. In a real and tangible way, I think of the Steelheart as being a part of me as much as and maybe a bit more than what it protects. I see the Steelheart and I see me (and not just in the reflection). I see the real me. Contained and controlled. Honestly, in those odd times the penis is free and I can look down and see it, it always kind of shocks me to find it like that. I never feel that way about seeing or feeling the Steelheart. The Halfshell never looked to me like something other than not the Steelheart, regardless of how much I admire it. I have an emotional connection to that hunk of steel unlike any other inatimate object save my wedding ring.

Last but certainly not least, the Steelheart is Belle’s favorite. By far. She allowed me to wear the Halfshell and never complained (maybe because it’s the one that looks most like the Steelheart of all I wear), but it wasn’t her preference. Only the Steelheart is. She’d rather see it than the penis. She feels it’s the real me as much as I do. And since she doesn’t have to wear it, the comfort issues aren’t as big a deal to her (within reason, of course — she doesn’t want me to suffer). I want her to have what she wants and I always knew while in the Halfshell that she would have rather had me in the Steelheart. That’s incredibly motivating to me.

So I’m back in it now (requisite photographic proof following the jump). Getting it on, I was reminded that the A-ring’s diameter is a millimeter or two smaller than my right testicle’s and that might not sound like a big deal, but believe me, it is. Since getting them through, I’ve had an on again, off again mild kicked-in-the-balls throb I assume is from the contents getting used to their previous, less forgiving home. I’ve also realized the Steelheart makes a noticeable clickity-clack as I walk around in sweats and no underwear. The Halfshell is totally silent in that circumstance. But whatever. I’m not looking for the least hassle and most comfort, as I said. And once the lock was turned and I was back in, I’ve felt a palpable energy emanating from my crotch. A sense of well-being seperate from the issues of comfort. It doesn’t fit as well, it makes a little more noise and is somewhat more noticeable, and will occasionally pinch…but it’s home.

And did I mention it was Belle’s favorite? Yes it is.

Continue reading “Belle’s favorite”

Posted on

2016 metrics

Just about a year ago, I said…

I’m keeping track of when I’m locked up and in what purely for the statistical data. I’ve often said things about how often I think I’m wearing a device or how many times I come in a year, but I don’t really know. I lose track. So I’m using a little time tracking app on my phone to quantify these things. I hope to create a log that covers the whole year.

And I did. December and 2016 have both come to an end and so I have a year’s worth of metrics to look over.

Turns out, it was difficult for me to keep accurate track of the orgasms I had. I think the number is around sixteen. Of those, twelve happened in the first  half of the year and the other four happened in the second half. Most of those (all but a handful) were orgasms Belle let me have. The remainer were either accidents while inside her or blatent theft on my part. She was quite generous as 2016 started (far more generous than she had been in 2015, as I recall), but following my camping incident at the end of August, she put the hammer down. I came once more by accident inside her and then not at all until yesterday. I have no idea, of course, what 2017 will bring regarding how often I come, but if the recent past is any indication, it will be a fraction of 2016. I shall endeavor to keep better track this year and am thinking of also tracking hers. Because, you know. You can never have enough metrics. (And for those looking for an early read, she already leads 1-0 on that score.)

I’ve been asked several times what app I use to track which device Belle locks me in and for how long. There are a lot of time tracking apps on the App Store, presumably for those who bill by the hour. The one I use is called ATracker. I set up each device as a seperate task and turn them on or off as she lets me out or puts me back in. I had to pay to be able to unlock unlimited tasks, but it wasn’t much.

img_1607December was perhaps the strictest month of the year regarding time locked up, even with some air travel at the start of it. I was in the Halfshell 99% of the time. That equates to eight and a half hours of free penis time out of 744 total hours in the month. I was careful to take the device off just as I was leaving for the airport and packed it in my carry-on (in pieces spread out all over) and put it back on right after security. The majority of the remaining time was when the Halfshell was soaking in vinegar to get really clean. Whatever’s left was when Belle wanted to be fucked.

As I said already, I came once in December on the last day. I’m told the next time that happens will be a long time from now.

img_1609For the year, Belle had me locked up for a total of 6,799.5 hours. That’s the equivalent of 283.3 days or 77% of the time. The Steelheart, always Belle’s first choice, was on me for 54% of that time. Had the Halfshell not come along, it would have been more like 70%.

The Halfshell has been my near constant companion since it showed up and has been on me almost 1,300 hours, or about fifty-four days, accounting for 15% of the time I was locked up on the year. The Jail Bird came in a distant third ahead of the Looker 02 and the Holy Trainer, but they were pretty much all the same.

Breaking the year into thirds, it’s clear things got more serious as the months went by. I was free 30% of the time through April and 35% of the time through August. There were a few months where I was unlocked far more than I as locked. To be honest, by mid year I was feeling like the wheels were kind of coming off our chastity and denial dynamic. I was out too much and coming too frequently and it all culminated with me jacking off by myself more than once. Luckily, though, I was able to get my head on straight again by the end of summer, not coincidentally when Belle doubled-down on her control over me and started to lengthen my denial.

I’m going to keep tracking in 2017 mostly because I’ve become so used to doing it and to stop would seem weird. The data-loving nerd in me wishes I had this information going all the way back to the first day of being locked, but I don’t. Best I can do is keep it going. However, as always, this is simply me reporting what Belle decides to do and is not meant to be something that influences her choices. If anything, it can inform her decisions since she often loses track of some details (such as forgetting it had been three months since I last came), but I don’t lobby or cajole or do anything else other than what she wants.

And with that, I hope everyone who read to the bottom of this boring post has a happy and prosperous 2017!

Posted on

Changing the playlist

Belle mixed it up the past few days. While getting her off, she told me to start fucking her. She hadn’t come yet, but I did as I was told and tried to focus on the fact that she needed and wanted to feel a real cock inside her before she came. Perhaps even to make her come, but that was unlikely. I lasted longer than usual lately but it still wasn’t more than five minutes, tops.

When the orgasm came rushing up out of the deep, I froze and shot my load without any climax. One thick load and another less so. But the penis did what it does now and started to droop. I went back to stroking her clit with my fingers, but she wanted something inside her. She reached into her nightstand and took out the lovely glass dildo I got her from Smitten Kitten. She used the ample lubrication of my seed to work it into her pussy and I sucked her tit and fingered her clit until she came hard and loud. I felt her pussy spasm and clamp against the glass toy over and over. We had the house to ourselves so she could make all the noise she likes to and, had it been summer, the neighbors would undoubtedly been woken up if they were not already.

img_367da97c9bec-1

After, she was suprised at how much of the pretty dildo went inside her. It’s about 9.75″ long and only an inch and a half or so went unused. Of course, I went back into the Halfshell immediately (before even getting out of bed). I could tell she was happy with the outcome of the morning’s activities since she mentioned it several times over the course of the day. Not just that she really enjoyed herself, but also revelled in the mess of my ejeculation mixed with her juices.

This morning, she let the penis out again and, again, changed the playlist in the middle of our set. She climbed up on me and started to ride the hard penis with easy abandon. I did my usual bit of trying to stay as still as possible and thought hard about baseball. Like how the Dodgers are reportedly about to trade a hot young pitching prospect to the Twins in exchange for an established second baseman stud who they need for the position and hits right-handed pitching well which is also a weak spot and while I’ll miss the guy on the Dodgers at least I can go see him at Target Field, rinse, repeat ad infinitum.

But baseball can only get a guy so far and I’m no good at doing figures in my head and don’t know the Periodic Table by heart so the next thing I know she’s pushed me to the point of coming. I let her know through a mouth-full of nipple by making the “OK, I’m about to come” noise and putting my hand on her ass to suggest she slow down, but she didn’t. Not at all. If anything, she sped up. I resisted as much as I could and tried to clamp down on it but the lizard brain made a good point. She was obviously trying to make me come, so why not go along with it? Resisting an orgasm after such a long stretch would end up being physically painful anyway. So I started to fuck her back and got two and a half thrusts in before I shot and shot and shot. So much fucking come. We did not have the house to ourselves and I might have tried to keep it quiet if any part of my brain that tracks of such things was working, but it wasn’t.

Instead, it felt like a brick wrapped in red velvet slammed into the back of my head. Belle wouldn’t stop fucking me and the head of the penis was about to explode right off the end of the shaft with hyper-sensitivity and I was still shooting weakly so I felt another velvety brick impact my cranium. That and my stomach flipped over. This orgasm, about three months in the making, was making me feel physically ill.

I had to get Belle off of me because I felt so strange but the worst of the issues passed in a few moments. Then I was stupefied by the rare post-orgasmic hormones flooding my system. I could barely move. The penis shriveled up into almost nothing and Belle told me how much she enjoyed literally pulling that orgasm out of me.

I was such a wreck Belle told me I didn’t have to help her get off. I was in and out of consiousness as she get off with her little vibrator but woke up to hear her come because that’s my favorite part.

The Halfshell is back on, of course, and Belle’s told me it will be another long while until I come again. The craving for me to do so right now is pretty intense. It’s always the second one after a long period that both feels really good and blows away all the lingering denial byproducts. But that’s not in the offing. Not even on the horizon, apparently.

Posted on

The Trinity

Belle asked me this weekend how I was doing. We were in bed up at the cabin and being lazy because it’s the holidays and at first I made some non-commital grunting-type sounds but she pressed.

“I really want to jack off.”

The rules are such that usually any admission of that kind of desire would be kept to myself since it could be construed as me trying to get her to allow me to do something she might otherwise not be considering, but she asked and it was true so I said it.

After a bit more conversation (her reply to me saying what I said was something like, “Do you,” and then we moved on), she said that she was thinking she needed me to come pretty soon so I’d be able to fuck her for more than 20 seconds.

“I’m afraid of coming,” I said.

“But you just said you wanted to jack off!”

“Yeah, but I didn’t say I wanted to come at the end.”

“You’re confusing.”

Fair.

For the longest time, I’ve blogged about how denial and chastity is a struggle between the higher brain and the lizard brain. Sometimes I’ve said it’s the higher brain versus the penis. But I’ve changed my thinking on that. It’s all of the above. I think to truly understand how the dynamic of denial works we need to steal a concept from Christianity. Namely, the Trinity.

In Christianity, we’re expected to believe that God is a consubstantial being encompassing the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost. Three that are one. I think of a man’s sexuality to be similarly structured. (And yeah, I get the sacrilegious nature of comparing my sex to the Holy Trinity, especially on Christmas, but that’s just a freak bonus of timing.)

A man’s sexuality apears to be a single element. It acts as one and, because no part of the trinity is usually denied what it wants, it appears to be one. The need to fuck or come drives actions until relief is achived. But I now perceive three things working together. The higher mind, the lizard brain, and the desire for pleasurable sensation from the penis. One of the three of these drag the other two around, depending on the situation, or they conspire in some combination. Getting the hang of chastity and denial, especially when doing it with a partner, is finding the seams between those three elements and knowing they’re not always connected and coordinated, nor do they need to be.

  • My higher mind gives me the basic wiring of what gets me off (i.e., makes me bisexual, a masochist, heteromantic). It drives the potent stimulant that is my imagination. But it’s also the fundamental element of control. Of reason. Of knowing the difference between what I crave and what I really want.
  • The lizard brain is all impulse and instinct. It’s what constantly whispers to my higher brain while fucking to stop resisting so much. It’s what makes the tube fill when I see just the right image on Tumblr. It’s the part of me that makes me petulant and short-tempered from denial.
  • The third part is the penis itself. It’s all sensation. Zillions of nerve endings and the feeling of achingly hard erections. All it does is demand and crave attention.

When I said to Belle I wanted to jack off, what I really meant is I wanted to feel the penis hard and in my hand. I wanted to feel my fingers gripped under the head and slide back and forth. Of course, that would lead to the lizard trying to make my higher brain push it too far, but really neither of them were the motivating factor in my saying it to her. It wanted out and wanted to be stroked. Hence my also being afraid of orgasm. Of how the balance between all three of those parts of me get knocked after I come. The higher brain saw the danger jacking off poses to its equilibrium. But when she told me she was also thinking of letting me come, the lizard pipped up to say how wonderful it would feel to come while jacking off. To edge myself a few times and then really let go. The lizard told me to ask for that for Christmas and the higher brain immedialty tisked and shook its head.

I dunno if any of this is real. I know it feels real in me and keeping all this in mind helps me deal with the various emotions that come from denial. I think this model has helped me make a lot of progress lately in understanding myself. Maybe it’s hormonal dementia. Maybe it’s the typical kinky person overthinking. Whatever, I totally think that if she let me come twice in two days the whole thing would go back under the sea and disappear.

Not that that’s going to happen, of course.

Posted on

22 seconds of glory

Among the other things that have changed around here since Belle has started to keep me locked up >95% of the time (99% so far this month) is the length of time I can fuck before I shoot my load.

Note, I’m not talking about orgasm. I’m talking about driving right up to it like Thelma and Louise going over the cliff yet jumping from the car James Kirk-style before reaching the point of no return. That was yesterday except it took me about 22 seconds (literally) from the time she guided the penis into her warm and inviting pussy until I was holding it stock-still and filling her up with my load.

Granted, I was worked up beforehand. I woke up two hours before she did and spent that time looking at porn and stopping the paper and the mail while we’re out of town for the holidays and looking at more porn. Plus a little Facebook and then more porn. Did I mention the porn? Anyway, by the time she gave me the key and I took the Halfshell off, the end was full of slippery leakage.

I kept my shit together enough not to bug her prior to getting her off with what she reported was a pretty sweet orgasm. The penis was merely chubby for most for the time I was working on her, but as she wound up for the climax it got about as hard as it can and, as she went over the falls, I pushed into her side and nearly felt like I came (or was about to) myself.

Patience at this point can be difficult. I know I’m going in otherwise I wouldn’t be unlocked so it’s a battle of internal wills (higher brain vs. lower) in the time following her climax and the moment she lets me mount her that’s probably not half as long as it seems.

In the past eleven weeks or so, I’ve been out for sex nine times. The average time out is about 40 minutes. In the past, I’d be out way longer than that. Maybe all weekend, but not anymore. Long way of saying, the penis is hypersensitive. In its protective metal shell it doesn’t feel anything. Of course, no playing with it in the shower or anything like that. Zero stimulation, not even the inside of my pants. Nothing. So, when the time comes, every millimeter of its shaft reports back what it feels like sliding into her. Sliding into the only place its allowed purely enjoyable sensation.

In those 22 seconds, I went from the breathless initial entrance to feeling pretty good about my stamina. Yeah, I thought, this isn’t so bad. I could keep this up for a while. Really give her her money’s wor-

ohfuckohfuckohfuckohfuckohfuck

STOP.

Squirt. Squirt, squirt.

Sigh.

And then the erection goes away. It just won’t stay up anymore after ejaculation. As if it’s forgotten what it’s there to do. I try to keep fucking her, but it’s no good. It just slides out, sticky and slick, and I curl into her. I no longer feel any intense frustration at that point like I would in the past. No slow burn of denial. Just a contentment with my status. Perhaps a bit of guilt I couldn’t give her more of what she wanted to feel. But it seems my itchy trigger is feature, not a bug.

I wait all week, sometimes two, for one chance to be inside her. All those hours for my 22 seconds of glory.

Posted on

Mailbag

It’s that time again. MOAR MAILBAG!!!

James jammed…

I can’t help but feel foolish asking comfort-related questions to a self-described masochist but I was wondering if you could help me pinpoint another issue regarding the Holy Trainer 2, or possibly even suggest a different device? (I recently took your advice from the HT2 review comments and bought a bigger ring).

I really like my HT2 because it’s lightweight and allows me to use a urinal but I’ve found that I just can’t sleep in it due to the pain caused by night-time erections. The metal device I got from Amazon is much more tolerable in that regard. Also, I find that the HT requires more reapplications of lube throughout the day.

On paper (or calculator), everything seems to match, size-wise. The metal device’s ring is 1.75 inch and the HT ring is 45MM. The metal device’s ring is a conventional circle shape rather than anatomical or oval, so I’m basically trying to determine if the discomfort being caused by the HT ring is due to its shape or because it’s plastic.

Based on your charts, it appears that you spend the vast majority of your time in metal. Does comfort play a role in that decision?

You mentioned that the Steelheart isn’t very secure for un-pierced guys. While I don’t really need Fort Knox level security, I also don’t want something that could allow the penis to slip out all by itself.

Does the Steelheart require un-pierced guys to use the ‘stocking method’?

Do you ever experience discomfort from the flesh of the penis tip getting pushed out of the urination hole of the Steelheart? I remember you mentioned a similar problem with the square opening on the Jail Bird but can’t remember if that ever happened with the Steelheart.

Thanks!

You know what they say (well, it’s me that says it), every penis is like a special little snowflake. It’s surprising to me a circular steel ring that’s essentially the same size as the HT2 ring would be more comfortable. I’m left wondering if it’s a tube size issue rather than a ring issue. If the metal device’s tube is larger than the HT2’s and your erect penis is thicker or otherwise larger than the standard distribution. Without seeing pictures and/or being able to measure myself and/or get more data, I’d guess that.

The Steelheart is less secure in that one can pull out the back without too much trouble, but if it’s sized reasonably well nothing’s going to slip out absent intent. The diameter of the Steelheart’s tube is customizable so if you get one very close to the diameter of your flaccid penis, you may be aided by the stocking method, but I doubt you’ll need it. The plastic devices have tubes that are more oval shaped and, as such, the stocking method helps get all the way in. Again, depending on how you order your Steelheart.

I have not had any issues with the penis coming out the end of the Steelheart, but the PA fixing and PA ring would stop that from happening for me. I have felt little bits of skin extruding from the Halfshell, but not in a  way that led to discomfort.

Good luck!

Chris commanded…

You’ve mentioned before about the Looker 2 that you wish there was someway to secure it via your PA piercing, Steelworxx does offer the Looker 3 which is made to be secured by PA. The only issue I personally see with it is that the PA lock is not hollow to facilitate urination which would make a mess, but that could be fixed by getting it made so the holes can fit a Prince’s Wand of the same gauge as your piercing. Thoughts on that?

You’ve also mentioned on the Looker 2 that going back to it takes about a day or two to get completely comfortable with the insert after returning to it after a period of using other devices, what do you think of wearing a urethral plug –

(like the one offered by Steelworxx: https://steelworxx.de/Penisplug-for-all-cb-s-50p.html
Or a pear drop penis plug that more closely resembles the Looker 2’s insert (though it does not have a thru hole): http://www.steelpleasures.co.uk/webshop/penis-urethra-plugs/pear-drop-plug/ )

– while using other devices to make that change less jarring? Could possibly also prevent urine from getting trapped in the Steelheart.

Lastly, what are your thoughts on full belts? There are ones like the T-3 or Neosteel that have a cage around the penis that’s very similar to the Steelheart, which I’m sure you’ll enjoy, along with the option to attatch toys to the back panel like the Rattler. There’s someone on chastity mansion who uses the T-3 with toys and says it’s great for long term wear ( https://chastitymansion.com/forums/index.php?search/3914117/ )

Thank you for your time.

Steelwerks makes hollow urethral inserts. I’m not sure if the other metal manufacturers have the ability to drill with such precision, but it’s worth asking. Yes, a Prince’s Wand at the right length and with some kind of locking mechanism would also do the trick. Again, the best implementation of this is the stuff Steekwerks is making.

That pear drop insert is pretty hot, but the little discomfort that comes from wearing the Looker 02 in the first few days (and the infrequency at which Belle lets me wear it) doesn’t make wearing an insert all the time necessary. Also, with the Halfshell, the PA is already occupied. If you switched back and forth a lot though, I could see the appeal of what you suggest if it could be made to work.

I’d really like to try a full belt sometime. Andy over at Ruffled Sheets has reviewed the Behind Barz belt and it’s fucking hot. That’s probably the one I’d try first, though my wish list of sexy things is already pretty long.

Reader nic noticed…

Buck_Pup on Fetlife said:

“One question about a problem I’ve had with this and the cb6k.. is there any way you’ve found to avoid the irritation when fabric brushes up against the tip that’s exposed at the end of the cage? ”

I’ve had this problem with chastity devices. I have a couple of solutions. One is to use a cheap condom rolled over the outside of the device and then cut off the end tip/reservoir. You can pee without mess. Another is to use a sleeve of tubigrip that will cover the device like a cloth condom. You can use this with an open or closed end.

Ugh. But OK.

Tommy trumpeted…

Was wondering about your kids, how much are they aware of your lifestyle (chastity mainly) I saw you posted they don’t know about BF, is that still true?

As far as I know, they’re totally in the dark about both our D/s and my extracurricular activities. I think they probably pick up on the subtle obvious ways I defer to Belle (like, for instance, how when there’s an odd number of us at the table, she sits at its head), but that’s about it. There have been a handful of incidental contacts made with odd hard lumps over the years, but they don’t seem to think about it (or, at least, say anything).

Another James jumped…

 I just wanted to thank you for steering me in the right direction to the holy trainer. I was once using the CB-6000, that is until it broke. Ever since then I have been looking for a new one but I realized I did not want another CB-6000 because it was very uncomfortable while wearing. You recommended getting the holy trainer and I have been hooked ever sense. I have only been wearing it for about two weeks now and I really like it. The first thing I like about it, it is really comfortable, so comfortable in fact I forget it’s even on. I also like the fact that it doesn’t slip out like the CB-6000. With the CB-6000 I had to wear and anti-slip device to keep my cock from sliding out, or from being pulled out by me. I hated them because it cut through the skin and I could not wear them. Not so with the holy trainer. Somehow it keeps me from pulling it out allowing me to do what I’m not supposed to be doing, and that is jacking off to porn. As you see I have a porn addiction, and this is the only thing that helps. I also like the fact that it doesn’t allow your cock to slip back. This makes it easier to go to the bathroom and you don’t get urine all over the inside of your device. The CB-6000 allowed your Dick to slide back a little so your urethra wasn’t up against the tip, causing urine to go all over the insides. this is great because you don’t have to clean as often. I also like the fact that the only trainer is very stealthy, hardly noticeable under clothing. I could keep going on about all the reasons why I love the holy trainer, there is so much I like about it. Don’t want to bore you so I’m leaving this at that. All I know is is if there are any people reading this post, go get one NOW! Do not get anything else.

Agreed that the Holy Trainer is superior, disagree that porn addition is a thing. But whatever works for you!

I have one more email that asked me about how Belle became involved and interested in keeping me locked up, but that’s a longer reply than would work well here so I’ll post about it separately. In the mean time, check out the older mailbag posts and, if you have a question or feedback, let me know. I might get back to you eventually!

Posted on

Further and deeper

The way things were around here for a while was Belle would let me out on Saturday morning (or sometimes Friday night) for sex and I’d stay out until Sunday night (or sometimes Monday morning or even later if she never told me to go back in). I could count on it like clockwork. Sure, Belle wanted the fuck, but she also maybe felt a little sorry for me or something. Indulging.

But it’s a new regime now. I did get out yesterday, but right after I was getting a little too excited about it which led to this exchange…

It was the first time I was out for sex in weeks and the prospect of getting the penis wet went from fuzzy abstract to potent reality with the turn of its key. Belle needed me to remember why it was being let out. Namely, because she wanted to feel it inside her. Not because of what it or I wanted. I got her off in the usual way, then she let me inside her but I didn’t last long before I had to stop. I squirted, but did not come, then it was over. And then I was locked back up.

You might read that and think that it’s mean. Not a nice way for a wife to treat her husband. Because of how we’re all socialized, love and sex are supposed to be this reciprocal exchange of pleasure and pleasure is defined a specific way and looks more or less the same for everyone. That’s because people like me don’t exist in the popular narrative.

In another nature vs. nurture kind of puzzle I’ve been working over lately, I feel more and more like my role as a sexual being is to bring pleasure to my partner in whatever form that means (within some reason, of course). As much as the penis might strain for release, she’ll never make me happier than when she thinks only of herself when we’re having sex. It’s taken a long time for her to get past the socialization of reciprocity (or outright deference) and be sexually selfish. But when she does, I feel closer to my natural state.

Same kind of thing happened with Frodo last weekend in New York. Aside from a quick rolling around last year in which my pants never came off (since I wasn’t locked up), we haven’t had sex since we were in our early twenties. And when the idea of having sex with me first became a possibility, his reaction was not positive. I come with baggage, after all, including a steel thing locked to the part of me a gay man would normally be very interested in. And his experience with kink at the level of male chastity was zero. The prospect of being with me was offputing to him then.

Compounding that was his tendency towards being a bottom rather than a top (a real shame in my book since, as I’ve said, he has a glorious cock). But even with Frodo, who I’ve known forever and Belle has known for half that time, I wasn’t going to be a whole man. Not even for a second. Belle’s rule is absolute.

However, time marches on and Frodo has been feeling more toppy lately. That, combined with some time to get used to the idea of being with a penisless man, made our weekend trip possible. Even though, he carried the same notions of reciprocity everyone else seems to have. It was hard for him, at first, to know how to deal with that. To be as selfish as I needed him to be with me. By that last morning, though, I think he was getting the hang of it. Of seeing me as means to his ends. Without getting too explicit (sorry), I could sense that he let himself focus less and less on me as his friend and more and more on me as his to use. Not unlike how it happened with Belle, that the benefits of having a partner like me were becoming more apparent.

There’s an aspect of all this that’s been quite difficult for me to wrap my head around. Not difficult to do. I revel in my role. But it’s a thing that’s been bubbling around inside me and that was accentuated when I was with Frodo. It’s something to do with gender. I don’t really feel like a man anymore. That’s an odd thing to see myself writing and I don’t mean it be read as if I think of myself as a female. That’s the problem, really. I don’t have the words to describe it. Less of a man and more of something else. A man-shaped person who doesn’t feel or act or do typical man things. Frodo showed zero interest in the penis. Made only incidental contact with any part of it or my balls. I was a mouth and a hole for him with a hairy chest, strong legs, and nice broad shoulders.

And except those times when Belle wants the penis in order to feel it inside her, she doesn’t give it a lot of attention. More than zero, to be sure, but sometimes we have sex and she doesn’t touch it at all. Other times, more. But even so, if it’s locked up, I can’t feel anything where the metal is. For more than three months now, I’ve been locked up essentially all of the time. I can’t stroke or squeeze or even have an erection. Since the Halfshell came along, I can’t even stand to pee.

All this has led to a profound change in how I feel about my manhood. Not in a bad way, mind you. Not at all. Like everything else that’s been happening with me lately, it feels perfectly natural. As if I’m only becoming more of who I really am. It’s very comforting. And in those moments when I’m naked and having sex (with Belle or whoever), I feel only a profound gratitude. A emotional satisfaction at least as potent as the physical satisfaction that comes with orgasm.

It feels wrong now for me to fuck for my own pleasure alone. To think of taking over a sexual encounter to satisfy myself physically. To crave my own orgasm more than I crave theirs. I never fantasize about fucking anyone other than Belle and even then only when I can feel or taste or smell her pussy. I never think of using the penis for anything anymore. I rarely think about jacking off lately.

I guess that’s part of what being submissive is. I don’t really know. It seems like more than that to me. Like the extreme edge of submissiveness. Belle could tell me tomorrow that she didn’t need me to fuck her anymore. That she had found something or someone else she preferred to the penis and that I’d never get out except to clean the device. As long as I still participated in some way with her pleasure, I’d be more than OK with that. That’s what I need more than my own release. To feel her pleasure. Or Frodo’s or Drew’s or whoever’s.

By itself, this doesn’t scare me. I do worry how Belle will read all this and what she’ll think of me, but in practice nothing has to change between us. As long as she’s doing what she wants and is getting satisfaction from it, I’m happy. I also admit that I’m somewhat concerned about what happens next time she has me come. I don’t know what the sudden change in brain chemistry will do to me. To my current perception of me. Belle mentioned today after hearing it had been more than three months since I last came (she thought it had been more recent) that she used to think I needed to come for health reasons, but decided my orgamsless ejacualition and the other ways I express seminal fluid was probably good enough for that. She knows I don’t need orgasm. That not having them is good for me.

I’ve never felt more connected to her than now. More cared for by her. More connected to myself. I’d like very much for how I feel right now to not go away. I know I’m not a static thing. That I won’t feel this way forever no matter what happens. But right here, right now is really good.

Posted on

November metrics

Time for another report on the numbers as I’m sitting at C3 at the Minneapolis-St. Paul Airport.

I was locked in either the Steelheart of the Halfshell 98% of the time in November. That’s down by one percentage point from October which is an extra eight hours. All tolled, I was in one or the other for over 700 hours, a little over 150 of which were in the Halfshell. I’m going to be posting a follow-up to my review when I get to 1,000 hours with any observations that I come up with after really wearing it. That should be sometime in January, I guess. 

For the year, I was locked for 75% of the time. That should go up slightly assuming I’m in the 90’s for December, but we’ll have to see. 

I didn’t have an orgasm in November, though one time I got pretty close. There was some tingling and quite a lot of ejaculating, but it didn’t quite get to full orgasm status since I wasn’t hit with all the post-orgasmic hormones. The last time I came was at the start of September (unauthorized, but inside Belle). I’ve kind of lost count of the orgasms year-to-date, but I think it’s about 14. She was pretty generous with them for a while, but has gotten more stingy as the year wore on (and I took two by myself in a blatant disregard of my commitment and her rules). 

Belle hasn’t let me out of the Halfshell since the weekend before last. I think we’ve had sex about four times since the last time the penis was allowed inside her, most recently last night. That was especially hard for me since her pussy felt so hot and wet and inviting but all the penis could do was swell up under the steel. She’s either making me wait on purpose or simply isn’t interested in getting fucked. Either way, we had a short conversation about it on Sunday. She wanted to check in and see how I was doing and I told her it was frustrating and difficult to stay in after I get her off, but it’s not something I will complain about, of course it’s her decision, and I hoped she wasn’t feeling any guilt about denying me even that pleasure. She told me she wasn’t feeling a bit of guilt and so I’m still waiting for her to want to feel me inside her. In any event, the Halfshell hasn’t woken me up until this morning when the penis seemed especially swollen during its usual early morning tumescence. 

I’m about to go to New York for the weekend to meet up with Frodo. I have her key on my key ring, but she reminded me several times that I was to be locked up right after the TSA checkpoint until I was about to go through it again. That’s going to be nagging me, especially since Frodo has suggested we might just hang out in the room and “watch TV.” I’ve been trying to get the vision of his perfect penis out of my mind, but it’s been getting harder to do as the trip gets closer. Even though, I’m still struggling with leaving Belle for the weekend. I’m a lucky rabbit to have such problems.