Mandalorian fetish

I, like many if not most nerds, am enjoying The Mandalorian on Disney+. And not just for the Baby Yoda memes.

I’m a multi-faceted creature who nerds out about many things, not just Star Wars. Branding, for example, and as such, the fact that Disney has chosen to refer to Disney+ as “Disney+” rather than “Disney Plus” or even “DisneyPlus” interests me in a way totally unrelated to the rest of this post.

For those unaware, The Mandalorian tells the tale of a man who is part of an ancient culture (the Mandalore) whose home world has been made uninhabitable by the Empire following their effort to capture a unique substance found there called “beskar” which can be alloyed into metal that’s extraordinarily resistant to damage from energy weapons such as blasters and light sabers.

I swear you don’t need to be a nerd to enjoy this post.

There’s a lot more super interesting stuff to Mandalorians than that (such as how their belief system is based on survival of the fittest to such an extent that weapons are integrated into their religion), but for the purposes of this fetish blog, the one that’s most relevant is their obsession with the aforementioned beskar. In fact, one of the motivating factors of a Manadlore’s life is trying to get all that plundered beskar back. Not only does it belong with them, they believe, but due to their unique belief system, they need it to make armor and their distinctive helmets. You can see both in the image above.

It really kind of pisses me off that the most famous character to wear Manadlorian-style armor was Boba Fett, as did his “father” before him, Jango Fett, even though neither of them were Mandalore. Just one of many little things that bug me about how the Star Wars universe was created by George Lucas. Like, George wanted to come up with the Manadlore and thought the Fetts looks pretty cool so let’s use that design but no they’re not the same they just look the same stop asking so many questions and buy the fucking action figures already. Also, midichlorians.

We find out some really interesting things about the Mandalorian’s obsession with beskar in episodes 3 and 4. Like how he’ll make truly questionable moral choices in order to get his hands on it (though no spoilers). Also, that it’s forged into Mandalorian armor like his bitchin’ helmet. And also, that if he ever takes the helmet off in the presence of a non-Mandalorian he can never put it back on.

I have to say, there’s a fair bit about the Mandalore vibe that excites one of my primary fetishes. I say that as a guy with a stainless steel wedding ring, stainless steel posts in my ears, a stainless steel cuff secured to my right wrist, a stainless steel Apple Watch with matching stainless steel band, and, of course, a stainless steel chastity device locked between his legs.

If he ever takes the helmet off he can never put it back on. I mean, are you fucking kidding me? That is so hot. If you find absolute rules about which metal devices you can and cannot use (and in what way) on your body hot. And I do. Also, how he wants to literally encase himself in a beskar bodysuit.

There’s a scene where a Mandalorian elder forges his armor and of course I was fantasizing about all the other places he would put it and all the other shapes it could be made into and how he could never take it off and, oh boy, I’m really not one for erotic fanfic but I’d read the fuck out of Mandalorian chastity porn.

Anyway, yeah, get yourself the Disney+ and nerd out with me about all the amazing ways beskar could be utilized. And, of course, enjoy that adorable Baby Yoda. Or whatever his name is.


Got the following text from Belle yesterday morning:

Put yourself in the Steelheart

And I did, using the lock and key from the recently removed Looker 02, and left the key in the standard place for her to retrieve later in the day. Not a moment too soon, really. I was getting kind of bitchy-whiny about being unlocked. No, not in that dreaded top from the bottom way. I just don’t react well to uncertainty. She had said after letting me out that I’d be back in on Sunday, but she didn’t do it. Then Monday came and went with no word at all. As if she forgot my state. So, by the time she left for work on Tuesday with still no word, I was feeling anxious in that way only an annoying sub can. Pulling the ring around the penis and balls and settling the shaft down inside the tube as the two halves of the lock fitted into place zinged a warm and comforting thrill through my chest. Nice that after more than four years, it still works for me.

I expected to have a hard time (ahem) with the nocturnal hydraulics, but I slept mostly through them. The L02 doesn’t wake me as often (the ring’s a little bigger) and it usually takes me a week or so in the Steelheart to get used to the early morning squeeze. I fell asleep on my stomach with the device pushing firmly up into my pelvis and a not inconsequential horny buzz going. Today in the shower, I was doing my tube cleaning routine and found even the sensation of the water rushing by head of the penis was enough to make my knees weak and tummy tingle.

Cleaner, goddamn you! CLEANER!!

Honestly, I don’t even like seeing the penis anymore. Not without something on or around it. When it’s freely flopping, I feel…less. Somehow. When I approach a urinal and whip it out, there’s a moment of disorientation where I forget it’s free. It’s like peeing with someone else’s dick. Getting out of bed Tuesday morning, I watched it flop over to one side lightly and wiggle around with my balls laying there like a deflated ballon and the whole thing looked altogether wrong as opposed to this morning when instead I watched and felt the steel shift and pull and keep the nuts orderly positioned side by side. As it should be. As should be.

Harry asked (and answered) why chastity? I know he was speaking in the larger sense (and I don’t disagree with his answer, though in my usual way, I’d have said a lot more), but why do I need this thing on me? Why does the physicality of the steel mean so much? As it is with so many kinks, I just don’t know. How can we know where these things come from? I can tell you when I’m wearing it because she told me to, I feel better. Special. Looked-after. Maintained. Even sexier. I recall near the beginning of this blog’s life a commenter suggested I had a fetish for chastity devices. I took exception with that at the time, but I can’t really deny it anymore. I do have a fetish. I am a fetishist. Either I had it all along or my feelings of emotional and relationship well-being have been fused with the device between my legs and what it does in such a way that I feel incomplete without it.

I feel like I need Belle to keep pushing and shoving me into tighter and tighter spots. More restriction. More constriction. Less access. Less pleasurable sensation. What’s the limit? Where does it end? Are we, those who long to be controlled, all like this? Or do I have a reciprocally recursive feedback system that builds on itself in such a way that eventually all my feelings of submission and denial will be compressed into a diamond-hard lump?

Yeah, I don’t know. As long as she keeps me locked up along the way, I guess it’ll be OK.

The pits

Over the time I’ve been curating The Portfolio, I’ve come to realize that I have a serious thing for guys’ armpits. I don’t know that I’d go so far as to call it a fetish, per se, but when I see them they give me a funny little feeling in my stomach. More than a good set of abs or a nice ass or strong legs or even a big fat cock. Like, a lot more. So yeah. There’s something going on there.1

I rest my case. I mean, just look at those fuckers.

I followed a few tumblrs that were dedicated to male pits, but they don’t really do it for me most of the time. It’s not just any pits that make me wobbly, after all, and the editorial thinking for a lot of them seem to be, “Oh, there’s an armpit. Done!” So, in keeping with the web’s model of empowering self-publishing the work of other people, I decided to start my own site dedicated to just those pictures that show just the kind of armpits that get me going. It’s called Thumper’s Pit Stop.

There are still a few things I’m working out. Like, do I put an image I like on both tumblrs? I probably will if I like it for reasons other than the pits but also in addition to them. There are some images I leave off The Portfolio right now because they don’t fit its raison d’être (whatever that is — it seems to change from day to day and can only be interpreted by unlocking my deep reptile brain), so now an image that is nothing more than a gratuitous Portfolio-inappropriate pit shot has a place to go. Also, it will not always be the case that the pit or pits is/are the main focus of an image featured there. Only those that spoke to me in that fuckinghellletmeputmyfacerightinthere kind of way.

Anyway, if you dig dude’s pits, check it out. If not, skip it.

1 I like girls too, of course. Let’s not forget.