Tag: femdom

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Where I am

I’ve received a couple of messages like this one from reader Andy (who’s favorite color is green):

No entries in so long…what’s up? Are you ok?

Yes, I’m OK. Thanks to all who asked.

To recap. Last we spoke, I was unlocked. Belle left me out for the period between Christmas Eve and New Year’s. I think I went back in on the 2nd. Anyway, I had come five times in that week. It was an interesting period for me because, even though I was coming fairly regularly, I didn’t really lose the urge to do so until the fifth time. After that one (which, like the first, happened inside Belle), I was well and truly tapped out.

But the fact that I wanted to come more even after the third and fourth effort and how the urge shut down so completely after the last makes me think there’s a significant mental component to my desire to orgasm. I knew she was going to let me come a lot over a relatively short period of time, so I kept wanting to do it. Also, I knew when the last one had happened and my need for more shut down commensurately.

So anyway, she put me back in the day after the fifth. I did not want that fucking thing on me. I’ve written about this before, but the stupid thing really bummed me out for a while. Four to five days, I’d guess. I was just this big, heavy, clunking thing and I had razor burn behind the ring and it hurt and I was grumpy about it and hated it. And she said she didn’t care. In-the-moment hottness factor of zero, retrospective hottness factor of 8. Then, at some point, I asked her why she put me in it. First, she said, she thought it was sexy. Yes, she now apparently thinks her husband is more sexy with a secure cock than he is with a functioning one. Two, she said she thought it was good for me. I am imprisoned for my own good.

It speaks to how I’m in such a different place now that just writing those last few sentences have filled my tube and caused my heart to pound in my ears. About two weeks in and the hornies have started to come back. I had a hard time falling asleep last night because of how turned on I was and that hasn’t happened since she put me in. That’s a good sign, I suppose. Also, the device has transmogrified back into an extension of me and not some clunky steel thing I have to put up with. That’s always kind of a magical thing, to be honest.

So, as is typical for men in my position, I start to wonder how long I’ll be like this. The Christmas/New Year’s break, while unscheduled, was not entirely unexpected. It was one of those markers on the calendar that seemed like logical points for her to let me out. Birthdays, anniversaries, major religious holidays, etc. But, looking forward, I don’t see another logical release point until our family vacation at the end of March. She hasn’t said anything other than making vague and ominous warnings about “duration records”. I have an overnight business trip in February, but other than that, it’s not looking good for the cock.

There’s where I am. Not bad. Not fantastic, but could be way worse. Thanks again to those who took the time to enquire.

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Fourth quarter, third shot

Belle continued the zone flooding/hard reset regimen and let me come again night before last. We were watching Monday Night Football (can’t believe NO pulled that one out) and, early in the fourth quarter, she said, “Get naked. Then take care of yourself.”

“Do I have a choice?” I was actually kind of sleepy.

“No.” Well. OK, then.

I admit it was a little surreal laying next to her in bed, watching football, jacking off under the covers. Like that’s normal or something. She paid little attention to me and stayed engaged in the game while I pulled on the cock and felt my heavy 4 ga circular barbell flop around in my PA. I don’t usually get to wear that piece since the cock is almost always in a steel tube, so it’s a bit of an extra treat to be out and sporting it. Anyway, even though I’d already come twice in three days, I was able to get it up quickly and found my groove easily. I didn’t waste any time and squirted quietly onto my stomach (being careful to avoid the sheets). She never stirred or said a word. It was like I was clipping my toenails or performing some other mundane act of self-maintenance. I thanked her and missed the rest of the game as sleep quickly reached up for me.

Fast-forward 24 hours and we were in the same spot watching a different game (Sunday Night Football on Tuesday!), me naked, but this time the word was never given. And yeah, three orgasms in five days, but I wanted to go again. After the game was over (skol Vikings!) and she was asleep, I wanked slowly and kept it hard for a while, but never got to the edge. Normally, two shots would put me down for a week or more, but here I am still unlocked and with the possibilities of more orgasms floating around out there. I’m not crazy horny like I can be when I haven’t come in weeks, but I’m some flavor of horny I can’t say I’ve been in a while. There isn’t a constant tickle in my groin for activity, but my brain is definitely instigating something. The lizard knows there’s a chance of more sticky white goo out there and isn’t sated in the least. He wants more. Will he get it? Only Belle knows.

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Let’s get small

Belle let me out on Christmas Eve morning. I had absolutely no idea it was going to happen. She hadn’t dropped any kind of hint whatsoever. Even more surprising was the orgasm she let me have right after the tube came off. Note, I said tube, not device, because the ring was still on. By the time the cock popped out, it was too fat to get the ring off.

“That’s OK,” she said, “We’ll fix that soon enough.”

The ring is very tight when the tube’s not there to restrict the erections and it made my ball sack plump out like a punching bag. Ironic since she did give it a few whacks, but nothing extensive (alas). She mounted me and slid the overly engorged cock inside the warm wetness. We came shortly afterward at essentially the same moment (which she always likes), though the tight ring made the ejaculation feel restricted and weird. For those playing along at home, that was just about seven weeks since my previous orgasm.

She let me go again this morning, but it was for the sole purpose of making me come. She didn’t even remove her top. I fucked her for maybe 1.3 minutes before spewing so fast that I almost missed it. We had discussed the possibility of putting me through a “hard reset” with regard to orgasm. Perhaps making me come 5-7 times over a week to “flood the zone”, as it were. Then go back to denial. This morning’s quickie might have been step two in the zone flooding procedure. She’s not sure yet.

Anyway, as to why I came so fast. I told Belle today about my last post (which she has not yet read). I told her that the cock felt smaller to me, even though it wasn’t. She immediately got it.

“Well, it is smaller than that hunk of steel you were carrying around down there. Also, I’m sure the feeling of smallness reenforces your submissive tendencies.”

She’s right, on both counts. No, neither of us are saying that guys with smaller dicks are naturally submissive or anything like that. Nor that guys with non-small dicks can’t be submissive. But, I admit, the idea that I have a small dick does put me more in the proper subbie state of mind. Of course, it’s not small. It’s perfectly average. Also, we both know it gives Belle a great deal of pleasure. But the idea. That’s the thing.

So, back to the uber-quick orgasm from earlier. The entire act seemed perfunctory. She essentially said something to the effect of, “Come on, let’s go.” This wasn’t about making love, it was about getting me off as efficiently as possible. In my head, I had a flash of a trusty chastity porn story: This was the one day of the year the lovely wife let her normally chastity-bound husband put his little dick where her boyfriend’s much more substantial member frequently goes. I mean, seriously, I don’t even think it was that well formed in my head, but as soon as the outlines of the concept of the fantasy appeared, it was like a direct circuit snapped into being from the cock to my brain and BAM!, I was coming.

It was later that day when she correctly deduced two of the three reasons I’m feeling small. One, the device feels bigger than what it contains. Two, it plays into my submissive tendencies and I’m projecting smallness onto it. But three was that the guys I’m seeing stream by in the never-ending current of pornographic images I peruse for the Portfolio are all bigger than me. Even the softies are big and plump and heavy-looking. I know, duh, right? It’s porn. They’re going to use the better-than-average-sized guys more often. But, when I’m locked and have been for a while, their cocks become my only frame of reference. I don’t have a proper one (just a big steel tube), so when it makes an infrequent appearance, it seems smaller than normal.

So I say to her, “You know, you could use this to your advantage.” Meaning, she could reenforce my feelings of penile inadequacy to drive me deeper into my subspace. I know she doesn’t think the cock is small. I know it isn’t. I know she loves it and gets off on it and all that. But if we pretended otherwise – if she were to comment on how small it was or how she wished it were bigger – that would have an impact on our dynamic.

It sounds cruel, but it’s just make-believe. Not unlike the other make-believe we use in our relationship all the time. I don’t know if I’ll always get off on the small penis thing. Like I said last time, I’m as surprised as anyone that I’m feeling this way. Now we’ll see if Belle’s willing to use it against me.

Mailbag
You may have noticed a link at the top of the page called Feedback. It’s a new way to share your comments or questions with me, as a few people have already done.

Eric said…

Hey there, Love your blog! You’ve really inspired me to get the same set up. However, I’m wondering if it is possible to use a cable to support the weight of the device. Check this out. Hopefully you won’t have a problem viewing this, as you may need to log in. Do you think this would fit with the integrated lock and PA fixing? Thanks and happy holidays! Eric

The image Eric linked to is of someone’s CB6Ks fitted with a long wire worn around the guy’s waist like a belt. I’m guessing it’s an anti pull-out measure.

To answer your question, Eric, I think the weight of the Steelheart would make a thin steel cable bite into your skin. It would probably work with the Steelheard since it has two alignment posts like the CB6K does, but if you’re wearing a PA fixing like mine, I’m not sure what the extra cable would accomplish. I don’t find the device needs any extra support, though someone wearing a larger cuff ring might, I suppose.

Chaste said…

Thumper, I’m shopping for a strap-on as a stunt dick for servicing Goddess. Where did you get yours? Thanks and Merry Christmas and Happy new Year

Merry Christmas and happy New Year to you, too!

I got Mr. Darcy and my harness at Edenfantasys. Good luck!

Long-time reader Pastry Chef said…

Hey Thumper-can’t say I like the new look. I miss the links and the low contrast is just boring. I was wondering-do you find yourself less pulled to blog now that you run a forum? Happy Holidays!

Happy holidays to you, too!

I’m sorry you don’t like the new look, but I do. A lot! I switched three minutes after finding it. I love the minimalism and the Helvetica. I know from previous experience, though, that I can’t make everyone happy. Every new look as turned someone off. Hopefully, you’ll get used to it. In the mean time, I’ve added a links page.

Regarding the forum and posting less, my recent spat of postless days has had more to do with what was happening in my head than on the forum. In fact, I haven’t spent any time at all there for several weeks. Back when I was, though, I wouldn’t say it was making me less interested in posting, but it does burn off some of the finite daily energy I use to write on the blog. On the other hand, it’s also given me things to write about I might not have otherwise. It’s probably a push. As I’m just trying to get back into the swing of things, I suspect I’ll spend more time and energy here than there, though.

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Objects are larger than they appear

Yes, we’re still alive over here.

Belle did let me out. I wanted it but at the same time didn’t. In any event, I took the key and removed the device and was free. That was as we went to bed, so I slept and woke several times due to the weird feeling of having a cock that could feel the sheets rub against it.

The next day, my pants felt empty. You get used to sporting a certain kind of package and when it’s gone, you notice. I was free all that day and again the next night. Even so, I didn’t feel the need to take advantage of the situation. There was no urge to. I was still out of touch with my own sex drive.

The next morning, Belle told me she had her period. She didn’t say it, but I knew that meant I should be locked up again. Back when I wasn’t essentially permanently locked, it was a rule that I had to be protected while she was having her period. That morning, before I put the device back on, I finally felt the desire to play with myself. It wasn’t that big of a deal. No toys or anything, but there was a moderate amount of stroking leading me up very, very close to the edge of orgasm. So close, that I found myself with at least a tablespoon of thick ejaculate in my hand. And how did I know that wasn’t an orgasm? Because I swallowed every bit of it. I ran it around in my mouth, so slick over my tongue, and felt it thick in my throat for an hour afterward. And I wanted more. A lot more. So no, I didn’t come. Then the device went back on and there it’s stayed. Belle has the key again and shows no interest in letting me have it back any time soon.

An interesting observation from my morning self-abuse, though. One of the things you’ll read on the web is that chastity devices make your dick smaller. I’ve always felt it was crap. And I still do, but I may know where the idea comes from. While I was stroking myself and feeling the cock get as long and as hard as it could get, it felt smaller to me than I remember it being. Now, I don’t have a big dick to begin with. It’s perfectly average in length and girth, but I could have sworn it had shrunk. I even got the tape measure out to make sure, but it was still exactly the same size as before (about 5.75″ long).

The thing is, as I said above, you get used to swinging a big steel tube between your legs. So much so that, when it’s gone, the contents feel much less imposing by comparison. It may not get longer when I’m excited, but the tube is always fat and stout. It’s easily twice as big around as the engorged cock and, while shorter, it carries a certain gravitas that mere meat cannot attain. Whatever memory I had of what my former cock felt like had been somewhat displaced by the steel tube.

And here’s the next bit of surprising info. When I was sure the cock had gotten smaller, I wasn’t all that concerned about it. As a guy, you’re conditioned to obsess over the size of your member. But, as the kind of guy I’ve become, it doesn’t really matter. The cock simply isn’t a regular player anymore. The only thing I worried about was that it may not be enough to satisfy Belle. But really, the idea that I was being made smaller and less…I don’t know…prominent seemed perfectly normal. To be expected. The cock isn’t that big of a deal anymore, so why shouldn’t it be minimized in every way? I’ve even started to like the idea that a lot of guys are bigger.

Of course, I’m glad it’s not getting smaller. I’m glad it’s exactly as it was before being encased almost all the time. But I’m clearly kinking on the idea of nullification. The idea that my penis should be made superfluous and of minimal importance, figuratively and literally. It’s an odd little cul-de-sac of my sexuality I didn’t expect to find myself in. And I wonder, all those guys who say they’ve lost size due to being in devices, if it’s not all in their heads. If it’s not a combination of wanting it to be that way and, because they’ve lost touch with themselves, thinking it actually is.

So, anyway, the turbulence I wrote about the other day hasn’t entirely left. I have lost touch with myself. With my independent sexuality. I know it must still be in there, but it’s way in the back somewhere. So, without that, I need Belle’s. I need to feel sexual through her. And when I don’t, it feels like something’s been amputated. Something really important. And its loss leaves me aching and depressed. I’m not entirely sure what will become of me. On the one hand, I’m committed to this existence. I’m quite convinced that I don’t need to ever have another orgasm. On the other hand, while I can live without the orgasms, I can’t live without being sexual. It’s more than the old saying that chastity isn’t abstinence. Of course it’s not. But I really feel that a transference is taking place. I have adopted her sexuality almost entirely in the place of mine. If this turns out to be the case and if it’s permanent, I don’t know what will happen. Right now, I can feel parts of me resisting it. But there are other parts of me that want to keep going.

The other night, I was dry humping her leg and, when I would usually say something like, “God, I want to fuck you,” I said, “God, I want to feel you come.” I guess that’s a perfectly natural thing for a guy with no cock and no ability to achieve independent arousal to say. What else is there now except her pleasure and, ultimately, her orgasm?

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Turbulence

It’s all cyclical.

This weekend, I was feeling very much not into chastity. Instead of it being fun and sexy and titillating, it’s been annoying, intrusive, and a bummer. The device that, at times, I’ve come to think of as my natural state has turned into a stupid hunk of steel I’m forced to drag around everywhere I go.

I’ve been hinting to Belle that I was moving in this direction and last night I pretty much came out and said I’d like it come off. That’s a potential minefield since it’s become more than just a sexy game. It’s now an integral part of our relationship. Maybe even unhealthily so. That’s why I was nervous and somewhat apprehensive about saying I wanted it off and that’s why she was disinclined to let me out.

Which, I suppose, on one level, could sound really hot. The ultimate wank fodder fantasy, right? Being locked up against one’s will is the Holy Grail of hawt chastity p0rn. Except when it happens in real life. That’s not to say she told me I had to stay locked up. She didn’t, exactly. But she did say she’d let me out in the morning. Then morning came and there was a bunch of running around (more than usual) and the key was never produced.

Why do I feel this way? No idea. One part of it may be that I’ve switched back to the Steelheart and, after wearing the Jail Bird for a while, it now feels really big and clunky. Another piece of it (a big piece) is that we had no sex this weekend. In fact, we haven’t since before she went to NYC last week. Yet another piece is I am finding it very difficult to achieve any kind of meaningful arousal by myself. It’s as though I have no sex drive separate from her. She gave me the token while she was gone (meaning I was free to abuse myself in any way I could while still in the device) but, just like last time this happened, I couldn’t muster the energy. All I want to do is feel her. Fuck her. Come though her. Again, that’s another element from the wank fodder. Being trained not to want any kind of sexual pleasure other than hers. Well, I’m here. In my current frame of mind, it’s left me feeling less hot and more depressed. It’s like there’s a hole in me. Something really important is missing. Oddly, though, any kind of drive or desire to serve her is absent. I’m not feeling a subby vibe. I’m not really feeling anything.

So anyway, she didn’t let me out last night when I asked. Made me wait. I don’t have a problem, in theory, with the idea that, by default, I need to wait 12 hours to be let out if I’m asking for any reason other than physical pain. A waiting period, if you will. Yes, she effectively said, you can get out after your waiting period. Just to make sure I’m serious. Because, as I said above, it’s a Big Deal for us if I’m not locked up.

But, she didn’t say that and we don’t have that agreement. She just said, “Later.” It kind of pissed me off. I was already grumpy all weekend and this didn’t help. Though now, after a bit of reflection, maybe I’m OK with it. I’m not really mad at her. I just wish there had been more conversation about what was happening. If she asks me again tonight if I still want out, I’m not exactly sure what I’m going to say. Yes, because I’m not feeling it. Yes, because it should be fun and sexy. But, also, no, not if she really wants me to stay in. No, not if she’s going to engage with the fact that I’m locked up and depressed. No, not if she can help me come out of my funk.

That’s the part they don’t talk about in the hawt chastity p0rn. The part maybe even you, my faithful reader, can’t really appreciate until you realize you may have lost your independent sexuality. That’s a freaky, scary feeling and it’s like losing a massive part of what makes you you.

I don’t have a tidy ending to this post. But, life is like that sometimes. We’ll see what happens later…

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48 free – Part 2

I look the Jail Bird off just before dinner and went to bed free. We had to wait a long time for the boy to fall asleep, though I could tell Belle was tired.

I started kissing her (once the coast was clear) and immediately got hard. I wasn’t entirely sure anything was going to happen, but assumed there’d be action since she left me out an extra night. She tasted amazing. Just the kissing was getting me going pretty good.

“Can you keep a secret?” I asked.

“Sure.”

“I’d rather be locked up than free now,” I admitted while nibbling on her neck.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. The cock kept waking me up last night. Always in the way. All hard and pokey.”

“Like a kickstand?” She laughed at her joke.

“Kinda. Anyway, who needs it? Such a distraction…” Kiss, kiss. Tongue.

I know that if I were to spend all my time unlocked and freely swinging that I’d get used to that again and the device would feel weird, but that’s not where I am now. It’s been locked up pretty consistently for months and months with only a few days here and there unprotected. I’ve become accustomed to what being locked in a cage or tube feels like and, since I’m not allowed to touch or play with it anyway, prefer it locked away. More on that in a minute…

“Well, you’re going back in tomorrow morning.” Then she lifted her shirt.

I was going with the flow, not trying to lead. She had an idea of what she wanted and I tried to give it to her. I worked on her nipples while her hips gyrated in sympathy, then I moved a hand to her snatch. Eventually, her pants were off and my finger was in deep and she was coming. The cock was very hard, uninvolved and dry.

She laid perfectly still as she usually does after she comes, basking. I laid as still as I could manage. It was hard. My hips were trying to hump all on their own, though my brain was ready for anything. I would have accepted more sex or her rolling over to sleep. I actually felt, even though I was hard and horny, the normal sleepiness that comes to me after her orgasm now.

After a few silent minutes, she said, “Come on, you can take a ride.”

I immediately mounted her and put the cock inside. So warm and so wet and so fucking awesome. This is what I wanted this time around. What I couldn’t stop thinking about. Sometimes, I crave my own hand, but this time it was the soft and hot confines of Belle’s pussy. I came close to orgasm several times but was able to catch myself. After the fourth or fifth time (the interval between which getting shorter and shorter), she told me the ride was over. I slipped off and out and felt the hard cock slap wetly against my thigh. She went off to the bathroom to freshen up and I pulled on my balls and tried not to touch her cock.

As worked up as I was, the sleepiness cued by her decision that playtime was over soon fell over me. I did drift off clinging to her, pressing the still-fat cock against her, my arm up her shirt, skin on skin.

Shortly afterward, though, my eyes snapped open. I was fully awake and still horny. This isn’t unusual, either. The feeling of two warring factions in my body is a regular one now. The forces of her control against the reptile brain insurgents. This time, though, the insurgents knew the cock had been left undefended. Their time had come.

In no time, I was on my phone checking out porn and pulling on the meat. The battle was evident in my head. The little bunny voice telling me to stop was being drowned out by the lizard trying to distract me until it was too late. Finally, I got so close that a large amount of ejaculate pulsed out of the cock and got all over it and my right hand. Not an orgasm by any mean (I could tell because of how much I loved licking the sticky scream off myself), but clearly a sign that my reproductive system was in full battle readiness. I was so close to coming that I could feel it just one or two strokes away each time I grasped the shaft. Had I lingered too long on the head, I would have spewed.

The little bunny voice had grown hysterical at this point. It knew, better than I, that we were on the verge of disaster. The Jail Bird, it reminded me, was in my nightstand drawer.

PUT IT ON. PUT IT THE FUCK ON.

I retrieved the device and pulled its parts out of the black fuzzy bag. I was careful to place the locking screw in on my nightstand so I wouldn’t lose it in the sheets. I put the ring over my sore and swollen balls but had to wait a long time for the cock to deflate enough to even try to get it through. Eventually, with enough spit and pulling, it popped inside the ring only to then get even fatter due to the constricted blood flow. The cage barely fit over the cock’s head, let alone over then entire member. I waited some more. And then some more. I surfed news sites trying to take my mind off the throbbing tube of meat between my legs. Eventually, slowly, it went down enough for me to squish it into the cage. Flesh was bulging out the sides, but I mated the cage with the cuff ring’s post and the beast was finally contained.

Getting the screw in should have been tricky. I had to align the holes on both the post and the cage (in both the X and Y axis), then get the screw in – all in the dark. Somehow, though, it didn’t take any time at all. As I tightened the screw into place, I felt a calm come over me. It was done. Suddenly, I was very sleepy.

What I found trapped inside the the short, snug cage of the Jail Bird surprised me: freedom. I was free from the temptation of the unlocked cock. I was free from having to control myself. Obviously, I shouldn’t be left alone with the thing anymore, at least when I’m in that state. I knew when I was doing it that I was breaking the rules, but it took every ounce of willpower I had to stop. I was like a dog in a butcher shop, practically unable to restrain my desire for raw meat.

This morning, I handed her the JB key before I even got out of bed. I don’t think she knows I was in it all night. Well, now she does. Anyway, I’m glad to be back in…wishing again that I was out.

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48 free – Part 1

As promised, Belle let me out Saturday morning. I was kinda lobbying for Friday night, but she wasn’t having any of it. So, Saturday morning, she brought me the key and saw the cock for the first time in three weeks.

It always looks so pale and sad when the tube slides off. The head seems to be permanently lighter than it used to be. Not sure what causes that. It’s not like it was regularly seeing the light of day before all tucked away in my pants. It pinked up by the end of the day, but still looks lighter than it used to.

Anyway, having free swinging meat feels really weird to me now. There were several times over the course of the day where I had forgotten I was out only to be somewhat surprised to realize that there wasn’t a hard metal device between my legs. One time, when watching TV, my hand wandered under my waistband (as men’s hands are wont to do) and I was shocked to find soft, pliant flesh there instead of a hard tube.

I was a good boy, though. I took a book with me into a nice hot bath and kept my hands off the cock the entire time. I very specifically did not touch it, though I wanted to. That took some will power, but she hadn’t given me any explicit permission to play with myself, so I tried my best not to.

In bed, Belle told me to get naked and, for the first time in a month, I was really and truly so. We kissed a bit and the cock got long and hard and I dry-humped the space between her leg and the mattress. It was so great being able to feel a full erection where I normally only feel pressure and hard steel rings. I got up on my hands and knees over her body and kept kissing her as she started to play with the cock. It was nice, gentle stuff. Caressing and stroking the meat while sending me higher and higher into my hormonal cloud of arousal. By the end, she was yanking on the cock, pulling it straight down, and I felt like a cow being milked. She told me going in that I wasn’t going to come, but the stoking was fairly purposeful and my expression, I’m sure, told her I was close. I thought she was going to let me come, not thinking that by doing so she’d be letting me spray all over the sheets. Just as I had convinced myself that orgasm was imminent, she let go and told me it was time to go to sleep. The cock throbbed and surged to no avail.

Jesus FUCK! It’s all so different now. When we first started this stuff, I’d have been hoping and wishing she’d deny me, but now I’m just the opposite. I wanted to come so fucking bad, but she wouldn’t let me. As the saying goes, I had been ridden hard and was being put up wet, but not wet enough.

After I blew the candles out, she told me to lay on my stomach. Hard cock beneath me, she stroked my ass going down between my legs and then up along my crack to the small of my back, then in reverse. Eventually, she got her nails involved and was raking my cheeks. I lifted my hips in response and felt a palpable need to be fucked. She totally owns me now and was playing me like a viloin. I would have done anything she asked at that moment.

Even though I was all riled up and laying on what felt like a steel rod, when she went back to gentle stroking and caressing, I went down with her. I felt weariness descend over me and, with a still hard and aching cock, fell asleep. I remember distinctly the very first night Belle and I had sex and I wasn’t allowed to come. I was higher than a kite and didn’t come down until sometime the next day. Contrast that with last night when, after a month of no orgasms or even cock contact of any kind, I was able to fall asleep awash in frustration and hormones. It goes to show how much I’ve adapted to this existence.

Today, Belle told me I’d go back in tomorrow morning. I assume that means there’s still something she wants from the unencumbered cock. Even though she’s not expecting me to be locked until tomorrow, I’ve put myself in the Jail Bird on my own accord because I’m not entirely sure I trust myself after last night. I’ll take it off before bed, but until then, I’m making sure I don’t lose focus.

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Weekend R&R

Belle’s told me that I might get out this weekend for a little R&R. I’ve been locked into either the Jail Bird or the Steelheart since November 6. After switching into the SH about a week later, I’ve not had the device off for any reason. Hard time, indeed.

While I may get out (she hasn’t said definitively that it’ll happen so I don’t get all expectational and start acting like it’s something I deserve), she’s made it clear that I will not come. I think she wants to fuck me, so there’s always a risk that either I’ll screw up or she’ll get carried away with her own pleasure, but regardless, I’ll not have permission. She’s still sticking to the last week of March, as far as I know.

I’ve decided to ask to be put back into the Jail Bird once she decides it’s time to go back in. I haven’t returned it to Mature Metal yet and I’d like to get more time with it before I do so. At this point, I’m thinking of having MM make me a double cuff ring to help with the biting and also to move the post to the top of the ring to make the cage and the ring align better. Also, I suspect I’ll need the ring to be a bit bigger as the JB compresses attempted erections in a more pronounced way which, in turn, seems to put more pressure against the ring. In any event, like I said, I want to experience what I have for a little while before coming to any decisions.

If she lets me out this weekend, it’ll come at the right time. I feel myself coming down from the surge of sexual frustration I’ve had for the past week. Like I said before, I know it’s all cyclical and it’s not reasonable to expect my buzz to remain high all the time, but the extra stimulation from being out and maybe even getting fucked will surely help lift the hormone levels.

I’ve been remiss in noting the creation of another resource for chastity and orgasm denial enthusiasts. Keyheld is a curated collection of blogs and other sites all dealing with various flavors of chastity. It’s the brainchild of Dev (not that Dev, this one) and was set up with the help of Tom (yes, that one). It aims to be the one-stop shop to help those interested in such things stay on top of happenings within a certain subset of chastity bloggers. I think it’s a very handy and welcome partner site to Chastity Forums as it embraces and extends the growing community of those who practice male chastity in the real world.

In particular, I want to point out two new blogs you’ll find on Keyheld. The first is Elwood in Chastity, written by a fellow Steelheart wearer who’s been playing with chastity for more than a decade but only has only recently begun blogging. The second is Celtic Queen’s Blog, interesting because it’s actually two blogs in one. The first is by the eponymous Celtic Queen, the second is by her sub husband. It’s nice to see both sides of the story, so to speak. CQ had apparently been blogging over on Chastity Mansion but it seems that functionality has been removed (along with her blog?). I have to say, in the short time I’ve been aware of CQ through her participation in Chastity Forums, I’ve found her to have terrific insight into the mind of a man in chastity.

Finally, I have to share this image I found and recently added to the Portfolio. It is, of course, perfectly true!

EDIT – Almost forgot! There’s yet another new blog by yet another new Steelheart wearer. Slouching Towards Chastity is written by a guy named Shane who I have a sneaking suspicion is my age. In any event, you should check him out, too. I like his stuff.

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Playing chicken

The other night, Belle and I were talking. I can’t remember how it came up, but she made some joke about leaving me in the device for a year. I shrugged and said I didn’t think she could live without her cock that long. That led to a series of “Oh yeah? Yeah!” kind of statements and now Belle’s saying I won’t be in the device for a year, but she is planning on leaving me locked up until our family vacation at the end of March. That’ll be something like five months locked up and orgasmless.

Five. Months.

To be honest, I’m still not convinced it’ll be that long. I told her she’d be craving her cock well before then and she said she’d be happy with Mr. Darcy. But, I retorted, she can’t come with Mr. Darcy. So there. Also, Pink remains MIA. She’s gonna get an itch only the biocock can scratch way, way before the end of March. At least, I’m pretty sure she will.

I brought up again that back in the hotel we talked about a break (though there was some disagreement as to what it’d be a break from – the device or the orgasm denial). At this point, Belle has no interest whatsoever in letting me have a break. She says I can have a break at the end of March. Spring break. Until then, no. It’ll stay on me 24/7. I actually would like it off at the moment, but not so much that I’m going to make a federal case out of it. It’s hard for me to discern at this point between the normal “god, I wish I could get to the cock” kind of feelings and something more profound (as in, “I really don’t want to be in the device at the moment”).

So, with the question of a break well and truly settled for the time being, I tried to make a move. I wanted some pussy pretty bad. Before she’d let me in, she asked me if I had done anything to deserve it. What had I done for her above and beyond my normal expectations? Well, not much, to be honest. She kept pushing the point and I started to back off. Either it was going to happen or it wasn’t. I obviously had no control over the decision.

I backed off, but I also withdrew. This whole “how have you serviced me” thing is a bit of a grey area for us at the moment. There was a time when I was trying to play the part of a service sub, but the truth is Belle is very hard to serve. She does pretty much whatever she needs by herself and doesn’t like to ask for any help. In a sense, there’s a fair bit of her that wants to serve and the part of me that gets into it is far from dominent. It’s easy for me not to do it or even try when she’s in a groove. Yeah, I’ll do whatever she wants me to and I do still make her coffee in the morning, but I thought we had sort of come to an unspoken agreement that the service sub experiment had ended.

She asked me what I was thinking and I said most of the previous paragraph. Also, the only way I could conceivably  handle five months without access to the cock would be through some kind of regular access to her. Since I don’t get any kind of extracurricular teasing, her sexual pleasure is my sole physical outlet.

She agreed the service thing was a little fuzzy. We didn’t seem to resolve its status, but she did open herself to me and let me make her come. She was quiet when it happened, but she assured me that it was good.

Ever since then, whenever my hand finds itself on the device or I’m especially hard inside its unyielding confines, I wonder if I’m really going to be in it for another four months. Just under three months is the longest I’ve made it in the past. Last time was “just” two months. Now she’s saying five.

Can she wait that long?

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The hard part

Friday morning, Belle wanted some. I was still in my funky mood and not entirely interested in giving it up, but damn if my hormones didn’t betray me. All she had to do was put her hands in the right places and show me her tits and I was all over her.

She came with my face planted firmly against her snatch, my tongue pressed hard against her clit. I rolled over next to her, hand grasping the hard steel tube between my legs, seething.

“How do you feel?” she asked, knowing I had not been myself lately.

“I want to fuck you so bad,” was all I could say. It was true. The cock was throbbing in its prison. It had been nearly six weeks with only a brief trip out when I was sick. I wanted to feel her hot pussy envelope her hard cock. Really. Bad.

“Well, you’re still going to have to wait,” she said. I’m only half way to my next orgasm, sometime around the end of December. “Maybe, if you’re good, I’ll let you in for a little bit so you can remember what it felt like, but not right now.”

The thought of being let out and allowed to fuck her, even without coming, has been with me ever since. Countless times each day, hand on my crotch, thinking of being free and balls deep, hot and wet. I really can’t stop thinking about it.

Tonight, as we went to bed, she knew I wanted it and I had a pretty good idea something was going to happen. Once the kids were asleep, she told me to get naked and I plastered myself against her, slowly grinding the steel into her leg, my lips against her chin and throat.

“Do you deserve it?” she asked, knowing clearly what was on my mind.

“What?” I stumbled. “I…I don’t know. I don’t know if I deserve it. But I want it. I want to fuck you so bad.”

“That’s not the same.”

I continued to nuzzle her and kiss her and wait out her judgment. I wanted the steel off. I wanted to be inside her.

“You don’t deserve it,” she finally said. I whimpered and the cock surged. She told me I hadn’t been keeping up with my duties lately, which is true, and that I needed to shape up before she let me fuck her, even without coming. I lobbied back, reminding her of all the things I had done in the previous 48 hours, desperate for credit. Desperate to salvage the opportunity.

“Don’t whine,” she said firmly. “You told me to make it hard. This is the hard part. Do a good job and maybe I’ll let you out. In the mean time, I’ll let you give me an orgasm.”

It’s true, I had told her it had to be hard or it wouldn’t feel real. But fucking hell, all I wanted was a few minutes out. Just a little fuck with nothing to show for it afterward but a hard, wet dick. But no. I could feel the desire within me that had been building and feeding itself for days buckle and snap under the finality of her position. The door had closed. I would have to try harder to make her happy.

A few minutes later, I had Mr. Darcy out, but not in the harness. I was fucking her alright, but with the life-like, Thumper-sized dildo in my right hand. I pushed it home, all the way to the base and flicked my index finger over her clit. She started to writhe and squirm and I could imagine how hard she was clamping on the dildo deep inside her while the real cock, her other cock, pouted in its tube. She came with her ass off the bed, head back, hand clutching mine hard, silent scream contorting her face.

After a little glow time, I pulled Darcy out, sucked him off, and placed him back in the nightstand. She fell asleep, sated. I wrote this, still hot, still horny as all fuck.

Good night.