Peep show

I’m in the Halfshell currently and have been since the last time Belle locked me up (January 29 at 7:57 AM). The only practical downside of this device is that it does not allow use of a urinal. That’s why, earlier today, I was in one of the stalls taking a leak.

As posts go, not the most exciting start, I know. Bear with me.

Anyway, there’s been a lot of construction in the building our office is in. Lots of banging around on the second floor and weird smells and worker guys stomping around. So it wasn’t that strange to walk into the bathroom and see a pair of them looking up at the ceiling and talking about a maybe 4″ hole in it through which you could see the space above. Whatever, they let me pass and I went into the stall to do my business.

One of the guys left and the other I could hear moving something around but I didn’t really pay any attention as my peeing and phone kept me occupied. When I was done, I put the phone on the toilet paper dispenser and pulled some off to dab the excess urine off the end of the device and my balls. To be able to do this, I sit back a bit, open my legs, and pull the whole package up and out by my ball sack so I can get it nice and dry. You know, like usual.

I don’t know what made me look. Maybe I heard something. But I glanced up and realized the second worker guy had set up a ladder and was holding a bucket up to the hole to catch stuff that fell through. And in that position, he was well above the toilet stall wall. And he was looking right at me with my locked up package in hand.

This was an unexpected situation. It’s the kind of thing, I suppose, you don’t really know how you’ll react to until it happens. Interestingly, I was like, “Oh, OK,” let go of my balls,  dropped the toilet paper between my legs, stood, pulled up my (cute) underwear and pants, retrieved my phone, and left the stall. Then, while taking my time washing my hands, I started making small talk with him. Like what just happened hadn’t just happened or happened all the time.

“What’s the hole for?”

I don’t actually remember what he said because it was mostly stammering and talking while looking up towards the hole and focusing on his bucket-holding.

“Well, be careful up there. Have a good one,” as I left the room.

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I looked up and there he was looking back down.
Walking back to my office, I realized I was feeling zero embarrassment. This is in keeping with previous near-misses and obvious bulge-showing instances in the past, but nothing this extreme has ever happened before. For me now, being in chastity is just too normal and has too many postitive attributes to get too worked up about someone finding out, especially if that someone is a person I’ll likely see, at most, a few times in passing while he’s tearing the building up. This might even be part of the “it’s not what I do, it’s who I am” thing.

Now, hours later, I find I’m a little turned on by the encounter. I’m not a fan of kinky folk being too in your face about their sex with the muggles. People have a right not to be made part of your sex acts, after all. But this was entirely not my fault. Dude knew I was in there. Had to know when he went up on that ladder that he’d be able to see down into the stall. Then he looked. Of his own volition. If anyone is an aggrieved party here, it’s me. But I’m not aggrieved at all.

I don’t know why, but it seems like an awful lot of locked up guys get off on the idea of being discovered. Usually, it’s in the form of their keyholders telling someone, but the idea that their “secret” would be found out somehow (usually against their will) is a common theme in the chastity porn. Plus, I will admit to having a bit of an exhibitionist streak in me. So I supposed it should be no surprise that seeing another man looking at me with the device into which I’m locked on obvious display would end up flipping some switches.

I related this tale on Twitter and was asked if I was interested in him. Funny, but I didn’t think about it at the time. He was youngish and cute enough, I guess, in that construction worker kind of way. I have always had a thing for work boots. That’s kinda of what got me hot thinking about it because then I was able to spin up a quick porno in my head. But in reality, he seemed more embarrassed that anything else. It never occured to me he looked in the stall because he was into guys or cruising or something.

There was also speculation as to what he thought he was seeing. When I related this to Drew, he wondered what search term he’d Google to find out. Someone also suggested that maybe he thought it was a medical device and that’s kind of what I always thought someone would think who wasn’t a pervert like you and me. Something I picked up in the war.

Maybe I’ll see him in the halls or bathroom again. I kind of think I won’t even recognize him if I do. But who knows. And who knows if his internet sleuthing won’t plant some kind of seed in him. Maybe, in a weird way, this will end up being a good thing for the dude.

HNThumper XXXVI: The great outdoors

Still on vacation! I scheduled this HNT twofer before I left.

I am, at heart, a nudist. Belle calls me an exhibitionist, and that’s probably true, too, but I don’t think they’re the same thing. I really like to be naked but I’m not particularly interested in being caught in that condition.

As avid readers of this blog may know, Belle and I are fortunate enough to have access to a family cabin deep in the north woods of Minnesota (not all that far from the Canadian border). In years past, I’d get away from the bustle of multiple families all piled on top of one another in its relatively tight quarters by heading off into the woods. Sometimes on a bike (though not recently – I really need a new mountain bike), but most often in a kayak. Whether on forest road or river, this part of the state is sparsly populated. I go for hours and never see another person.

Which is good, because as soon as I’d think I was well and truly removed from view, I’d often strip off my clothes. No, not all at once. Usually just the shirt until I was able to stoke my courage, then the full Monty. As long as I remembered to apply generous sunscreen and bug spray before leaving, it’d be bliss. The feeling of the warm summer sun washing against the whole of my body and the calm, cooling breezes stroking every last hair: chest, legs, and pubes. Inevitably, the heat of the sun on the penis would cause it to twitch and stir and lengthen and do all those things penises do. It’s not that I wanted to be naked for sexual reasons, but the excitement of being that way, totally and completely, in a place where anyone could come across me (either by coming down the road in the opposite direction or by me paddling around a bend and finding a boat of quiet fishermen just sitting there) inevitably caused my heart to start pumping and the rest would just – ahem – come naturally. (OK, maybe I am just a smidge of an exhibitionist.)

One time, in the kayak, I stopped at a giant boulder in the river (probably 20 feet across) and splayed out over it with my clothes back in the boat too far away to get to unnoticed if anyone came upon me. The heat of the rock on my back and the heat of the sun on my front and my hand on what was, at the time, my stiff penis with nothing but the eyes of the eagles and deer and whatever other fauna came across me. I jacked off on that rock, leisurely, enjoying my feeling of oneness with the great outdoors. Of course, I eventually left my seed there. Once it spurted out of me, it seemed to take my courage with it and I scrambled back to the kayak to be closer to my clothing.

Today (eleven days prior to this post), I found myself in a similar situation for the first time in a long while. I was out on the same stretch of secluded river and felt the need to be free of my clothing. Once I thought it was safe, I was kayaking in the nude with only the buzzing dragonflies as my company. This is the first time I’ve done this in a steel tube and was interested to find that, even though it was now sitting in full sunlight, I could feel the metal cool once it was free of the steamy confines of my pants. Then, after a few minutes, it assumed a wonderful heat that was especially evident when a breeze would blow over me and cool the rest of my body while the encased penis stayed warm. I paddled that way for quite a while, keeping my eyes and ears sharp, wondering what I’d do if discovered. The brave naturist in me said I should do nothing except smile and wave (and wouldn’t it be great if we lived in a world where that was possible?), but the reasonable adult in me rehearsed the movements I’d need to execute, aware that to do them too quickly might cause the tippy little boat to capsize.

I never came across anyone, but I did happen by two campsites. After the first, I put my shirt back on and placed my shorts over my lap, but I never saw another person. About 90 minutes after putting in, I stopped on a little spit of land to rest, drink some water, and be naked. The tree cover was sparse, but the position was perfect to see up and down the long river in both directions.

Of course, things are not as they used to be for me. While my heart still pounds and the warmth and breezes still work their magic, the little penis is locked away in a steel tube. I wanted at it badly, but accepted it was not to be. Instead of dwelling on that, I walked down a trail running the spine of the little peninsula. I found a rough campsite (fire ring and left-over wood), but it hadn’t been used in a while. Then, as I came over a rise, I saw in front of me a canoe pulled up into the reeds. Inside was fishing tackle and a bucket. Whoever’s this canoe was, they were not far away. I turned my white ass to it and headed back to the kayak. I decided to get dressed again, but not before I took the first of today’s HNTs (after the jump).

Continue reading “HNThumper XXXVI: The great outdoors”

A year of piercedness

Subtitle: In which Thumper overshares regarding his penile piercing.

Susan’s Pet left this in the comments recently:

I just want to remind you that your anniversary of your PA piercing is coming up. I am not saying what you should do, but, you know, giving thanks where thanks are due would be all right.

First things first. How thoughtful of you, remembering like that! It totally would have gone over my head you not said something. Second, I’m not sure where thanks are due (other than to the skilled professional that punched a hole in my urethra to begin with and Belle for being OK with letting it happen), but sure, I’m giving them.

I suppose it’s not a bad time to stop and elaborate a bit on what living with a Prince Albert piercing it like. However, I think it’s also worth noting that the one attached to me is not your typical pierced cock. Most notably, of course, is the fact that (especially recently) it’s been safely ensconced in some kind of chastity device for the majority of the time. I suspect normal guys would have slightly different experiences.

So here’s the good stuff.

  • It’s really hot.
  • It’s a beautiful thing.
  • Under the right conditions, it allows for a more secure enforced chastity experience.

 
Of course, the first two points are totally subjective. I think a cock with a thick stainless hoop through the end is incredi-fucking-sexy. Belle, apparently, is OK with it but hasn’t ever let on that she’s as enamored of it as I am. As for the chastity security, as I’ve written fairly extensively, it doesn’t work for me the same way it works for most people (that is, with a cable strung though the hoop outside the tube and affixed by the device’s lock). When the Steelheart comes back with its custom PA fixing, I believe security will be pretty near perfect, but it’s taken me a year of trial and error to figure that out.

Now, the negatives.

  • Peeing is not as straightforward as before. I used to be able to pee through the CB6K at a urinal with a high degree of success, but the extra hole in the dick and the disruption of the stream by the jewelry has forever removed that option. Even when not locked, extra care has to be taken to ensure that the piss doesn’t splash back onto my pants or that a second stream doesn’t get started spraying in an odd direction. The funny thing about piss is, since it’s at your body temperature, you can’t always be sure where it’s going without keeping an eye on it. I’ve become fairly adept at successfully using a urinal (while unlocked, of course), but, just like border patrolling, the order of the day is “constant vigilance”. While we’re on the subject, I can also report that another quirky aspect of peeing while pierced is that separate streams can form from each hole (mostly through the natural one, of course) and the new hole is positioned perfectly to douse my scrotum when I’m sitting down. The way to avoid that is pretty much the same thing I do when standing up. By placing my finger behind the hole and pushing a bit of foreskin against the piercing, it will usually block the hole enough to make the stream just a steady drip. Now you know more than you ever wanted about the urination habits of Prince Albert.
  • On the relatively rare occasions I’ve had to masturbate with the ring in, I’ve found that it’s pretty easy to aggravate the tissue around and inside the urethra. For a long time, I assumed that this would go away in time as the flesh toughened up, but as Belle’s aggressive milking demonstrated just the other night, it appears to be a permanent risk. It’s entirely possible, I suppose, that a guy with a more normal masturbation schedule (or, for that matter, more plentiful opportunities to use his cock in any number of ways I can’t) would find the discomfort subsiding eventually, but that guy’s not me by a long shot. I find that if I leave my pointer finger more relaxed while masturbating and let it pass over or just graze the ring that the sensation is even more enjoyable than before I was pierced, but if I attempt to jack off the old fashioned way (all five fingers evenly grasping), I’m asking for trouble. Since the piercing healed, I haven’t experienced any discomfort from fucking, but then again, I also can’t say being pierced has significantly improved that sensation.

 
Currently, I mostly wear a 4ga trapped-ball ring. I started out at 8ga, slipped back to 10ga due to an unfortunate accident, then clicked up to 6ga for quite a while. I don’t think I’ll go above 4ga. I think anything bigger would look out of proportion. The thickness of 4ga is just about perfect, IMO.

After ten HNThumpers, I’ve never actually shown “the full monty”, as it were. I’ve shown the 6ga ring in detail, I’ve shown the cock obscured and distorted and secured (twice), but in trying to respect the “half nekkid” part of the HNT, I’ve never shown you the entire package in a straightforward way. Until today. I figure, after writing in nearly 900 words about my PA piercing, it’s only fair to let you take a peek. So here you go. Obviously, NSFW.

In balance, I have to say after my first year of piercedness that I’m happy I did it. It can be a bit of a pain causing complications and discomfort, but at the end of the day, I find it so hot that it’s totally worth living with the negative consequences.

Mexico

Back!

First things first. While in Mexico, I received an email from Dietmar at Steelworxx saying our new Steelheart had been shipped. That was on Friday and I’m not sure how he shipped it so don’t know when it will arrive, but that was much faster than I thought it’d be. I expect by the end of the week, it’ll be here.

fucko_in_mexicoMexico was a lot of fun. As my previous post said, it offered me several chances to frolic au naturel, first on Wednesday before the couple we rented the house with arrived, and then again on Saturday while they were out and we stayed behind. There are few sensations more wonderful then that of the heat of the sun across all your skin and the warm breeze running though every hair on your body. The nearly-tropical sun is a force to be reckoned with, however, and even with ample SPF 70 on Belle’s cock, the effect of the sun’s radiation could be felt. I took measures to protect it and am happy to say it suffered no damage (though the rest of me is nicely tanned).

I had mentioned to Belle that I thought she might be on her period when we were in Mexico, but she said she wouldn’t. However, at the end of our second full day, the monthly visitor arrived. Since we typically don’t have sex when she’s on it and all my sexual energy is directed at her, I’ve become much more in tune with it’s ebbs and flows. Never underestimate the power of a man’s sex drive to focus his mind. In any event, she usually locks me up during her period, but we didn’t bring a device, so I lucked-out.

Before she got all bleedly, we did have a chance at some good, old fashioned fucking. The first time was in bed Thursday morning and was pretty tame and typical except for the fact that she let me come. Srsly! Unlike in the past, I was totally up for it and very excited. No second thoughts or any of that bullshit subbie remorse for me. I got her off, then she rolled over and I got busy for myself. The build-up was amazing. I felt the orgasm charging at me from the depths, flooding me with sensory overload all up and down my body, but, when it finally arrived, it didn’t really live up to the anticipation. I suspect that’s just a side-effect of waiting so long between shots, but when I was actually ejaculating, it didn’t feel right. I wasn’t even sure anything came out, though Belle assures me it did.

Later that day, we had two masseure at the house. They set up their tables out on our patio deck. The sun was coming though filtered clouds, so it was warm and wonderful and very, very sensual. My masseur was  a young man named Gabriel and, had I been 20 years younger and unmarried, would have sold my fucking soul to stay under his dreamy hands (and maybe a few other things). A. Maze. Ing. Best massage I’ve ever had, easily.

Once we were done, Belle and I retired to the upstairs Jacuzzi (the view from which is seen in the above picture) while the other couple got rubbed. I was feeling pretty frisky following Gabriel’s ministrations and had ample residual sexual need even after my morning’s orgasm. Soon enough, I was fucking Belle underwater (doing my best to keep the water from sloshing too noisily). She came, I did not. It was very nice. I guess you can add that to my outdoor naked activity list, too.

The morning of our last day in Mexico, Belle put the butterfly clamps on me and hit my nuts with the crop. It wasn’t a serious scene or anything, just a little sensation play, but enough to get me pretty riled up again. I asked if she’d allow me to masturbate and was soon laying back, feeling the length of the erection and the heavy PA ring flopping back and forth at the head of the cock. I was only going to edge myself, but she once again gave me permission to come and I didn’t look back. This time, the build-up was more normal and the actual shooting was fantastic. I felt each surge of fluid as it came out and found it satisfyingly copious.

I’ve said this before, but there’s something about the smell of semen now that’s just as novel and unusual as the act that produces it. It’s much more jarring as it hits my nostrils than it used to be. I just don’t smell it all that often, I guess.

So, there you have it. A brief recap of our Mexican adventure. After two orgasms, my subbie reservoir was pretty much empty. It’s been three days since I came and I can start to feel thin tendrils of it starting to wrap themselves around my brain again, but just barely. She implied yesterday that perhaps my attitude needed adjustment though locking up the cock again, but she didn’t have me do it. I think she’s waiting for the Steelheart to arrive.

I’ll be checking the mailbox regularly.

HNThumper IX

This HNT was snapped by my very own Belle Fille yesterday in the pool of our Mexican vacation villa just after getting me all worked up (which may be somewhat obvious). I was skinny dipping, but Belle, being the more demure of the two of us, decided to wear her suit since there are a few windows overlooking our patio. I, being the family exhibitionist, don’t really care who sees what.

A short while later, I was basking on a lounge chair in the hot afternoon sun, still naked as the day I was born, enjoying the heat on my body and the breeze over my skin. Vacation, my friends, is a wonderful thing.

I’ll see you all next week!

P.S. I’m posting this from my iPhone for the first time so I’m not exactly sure how it’s going to work out. Or how much it’s going to cost in international data roaming charges…

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