Tag: male chastity

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Be ready

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Meditations for the chastity submissive

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And I wrote…

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

Doc also wrote…

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

And I said…

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

Doc said…

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

And I said…

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

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

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Transubstantiation

Last night I was opining on the Twitter about how I perceive my body. I had been out for a few hours that morning so I could get though the airport security gauntlet (with the family or I probably would have hazarded one of the plastic devices through pre-check) and it left me contemplating how that made me feel.

Bottom line, I resent being forced out of it. I resent being made to be that way because…well, it’s not me. That was the point of the Twitter missive. I ended the thread with…

As I was drifting to sleep (finally — damn, I was horny), a word likewise drifted though my mind. Transubstantiation. Which our Catholic friends know to describe how some believe the bread and wine of communion become the body and blood of Christ. I mean, it doesn’t. Of course it doesn’t. But the faithful say they believe it. And probably some of them do.

And it’s kind of like that with chastity after you do it long enough. The chastity and the denial and how they build on and reinforce one another. Eventually you start to feel like the device is part of you. Then you stop feeling that way and actually believe it.

Like (most of) the Catholics who take communion, I know my form of transubstantiation is an article of faith. If not faith, then some kind of wishful thinking, perhaps. I do not want to think of the contents as anything more than I said in that tweet. The insides of the chastity device. That’s what they are. To me. But then sometimes I have to confront the fact that they’re something else, too.

When Belle lets me out so she can enjoy the contents, that’s one thing. It is her prerogative. But when the world enforces its inability or refusal to accommodate my faith, it’s infuriating. And unsettling.

As an aside, someone asked me (again) on Twitter today if chastity makes penises smaller. I can’t stress enough that it does not. If it did, I’d know. But I did think as I said that to him that even if it were true…so what? When you’re so mentally and emotionally attached and invested in being locked in chastity that you stop wanting what’s inside to be seen as anything like a real man’s cock — to stop being a separate thing from its vessel — then I’d say you’re also well past the point of freaking out about it getting a little smaller from the transformation.

Of course, not all men in chastity feel like I do. Maybe they would someday if they stayed at it long enough. Or maybe they never will. But it does seem to be a distinct path some of us go down. The this is not what I do, this is what I am branch. Where you don’t spend any time thinking how great it will be when you’re out of your device and allowed to come. Because that’s not you anymore. That’s not what you do. It’s quite literally not for you.

Luckily, I was able to hit a stall in an MSP bathroom (perhaps the very one Larry Craig used) and put the Steelheart back on. I felt how each of my testicles popped though the base ring that’s not quite as big around as the left one. The PA ring slide into my urethra though the piercing and then the PA fixing though the ring. The coolness of the steel envelop the small appendage and encase it once more. Bringing them all together again. As they should and were meant to be.

I felt the transubstantiation. The little pink thing became hard and shiny. Heavy. Perfect. One.

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Cobra chastity review

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

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

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

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

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

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

Cobra N+ next to the Holy Trainer v4 Nano

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Embracing the vestigial state

Even though it was in the middle of Hashtag Locktober, Belle decided she wanted the contents. As is the custom now, she gave me the key the night before the morning she wanted to get fucked.

I need the key in advance so I can prepare the contents. Prep takes about an hour. I take three 20mg tablets of sildenafil citrate (aka, Viagra) and apply four or five sqirts of Promescent® Delay Spray for Men. This is all due to my being totally unable to 1) avoid orgasm 36 seconds after penetration, and 2) remain hard for longer than 36 seconds after that. I had hoped the Viagra would take care of that all by itself so I could at least feel myself fucking her, but even with the chemical erection support, it goes flat as soon as it squirts, orgasm or not. So the meds help me remain as hard as possible for her and the Delay Spray (basically lidocaine) keeps me from coming as quickly.

As an aside, the Delay Spray works well. Somehow, they’ve formulated it such that after a bit of time it has absorbed entirely into the penis and won’t transfer to Belle so only I am denied the sensation of penetration. The package says not to exceed three pumps of the spray but I find that four or so is better at deadening it and the Viagra keeps it hard even though it’s about 90% numb.

So I did my things and then waited for her to wake up. It’s my job to make sure everything is ready for her when she’s ready so that she neither has to wait around for things to take affect nor for there to have been too much time passed so that the precautions aren’t useful.

This particular morning, things lined up well and the contents were both good and hard but also almost totally without feeling so that after I got her off with my fingers, I was able to climb on top of her and provide a reasonable facsimile of having a normal male lover.

Unexpectedly, she told me she wanted me to come inside her. My routine isn’t designed for that. I specifically deaden the meat so that I won’t come but right after sliding it in, she told me she wanted me to. Of course, the precautions were working very well and I realized rather quickly that getting to a point where I was having a real, full orgasm wasn’t in the cards. On the plus side, I was able to fuck her for maybe the longest period of time in years.

Eventually, I could feel the rumblings of orgasm from somewhere behind my balls. I wasn’t going to come due to anything I felt on the shaft, but I was still going to do it. Some combination of feeling my hips grinding and her under me and the flex of the muscles necessary to do the act tricked my brain sufficiently that it was able to get there. But I didn’t get much of anything from the penis and the orgasm was typical of the ones I have now. Weird, somehow incomplete, and while productive from a volume of ejaculate POV, still less than entirely satisfying. I mean, she can make me come, but she can’t make what’s left of my ability to do it feel good.

But it was an orgasm and it was enough of one to make me very reluctant to get back in to any device after. The Rules are very clear:

I must be wearing a chastity device at all times, unless she says otherwise.

Belle’s Rules for Thumper

But I eventually did go back in. Even though the device felt foreign and weird and uncomfortable. I hated it.

The next day we went to dinner for our anniversary (which, coincidentally, is very near the anniversary for this blog — happy lucky 13th anniversary to me!) and she took the opportunity to ask how I was doing. Not, like, how’s your day going? More like, is this still what you want?

It was a bad time to ask. Had she brought it up 48 hours before, I would have wholeheartedly said YES. Things are GREAT. But 36 hours after coming, I replied somewhere between a shrug and a “fine…things are…fine.” But I realized how my lack of enthusiasm was being perceived and explained that I was in a period of profound sub drop. So of course, I was very happy with our dynamic. But it was, as I said, a bad time to ask and expect enthusiasm.

A few days later, we flew on a plane together. I was still feeling the impact of the orgasm and took the opportunity to let myself out before we went to the airport. Even though we were flying alone with no kids or friends or family around and if I got pulled out of line it wouldn’t be a big deal. But I wanted out. So I basically made an excuse for myself.

Usually, I’ll go back in right after the TSA invades my privacy, but I didn’t this time. I just…didn’t. Could have. Didn’t. And I didn’t when we got to our destination. Or at any other point that day, even though I was very clearly aware I was unlocked from all the incidental friction inside my pants (which drives me CRAZY). As we got into bed, I told her I was out. I don’t think she knew. She didn’t seem too impressed. But that’s how I went to bed.

I mean, I knew I was being bad. And I knew it would feel bad later. But I wasn’t willing to abide by the rules. I wasn’t willing to accept my position.

The next morning, I woke up with a raging hard on. I was at least able to maintain some control over myself. I didn’t stroke it, but I did lay on my stomach and grind it into the firm mattress and revel in the pressure and friction. The head popped out from the side under my left hip and I rubbed the bit on the underneath and knew if I did just that for more than 30 seconds I’d come. So I stopped at about 20 seconds.

Belle turned over I spooned into her. I’m sure she could feel it. And it was a vacation morning when I should have expected some sex. But she wasn’t offering. But I wanted it. In fact, I did expect it. And that’s when I started to come back down to earth.

I should have ZERO expectations of sex. Sex is for her. For her to get pleasure and satisfaction. My satisfaction comes though giving her hers. Period. But here I was trying to fuck her. Because I wanted to fuck her. That’s not me. That’s not right.

I was locked back up within the hour.

The next morning, I was spooning into her again, but my entire demeanor changed. God, I absolutely fucking hate the version of me that was unlocked without permission and was trying to coax her into getting me off. She was much more receptive to the locked version of me and allowed me to eat her out. I could once again feel pressure and compression of the contents, but no friction. Nothing like that. Just the Evotion 8 doing its job while my tongue did its.

And when her hips bucked in my face and I could feel her pussy spasm in orgasm under my mouth and the contents strain in defeated futility, I felt so much more normal. So much more me.

And yeah, it was not lost on me she was far more willing to engage sexually with the locked me than she was the unlocked me.

Five days earlier when I was mounting her with my numb, chemically enhanced erection, I remember the thought flitting though my mind I really don’t need this. This is for her, not me. And, honestly, thinking back to her asking how I was doing, the only issue I have is that there are still reasons for me to be unlocked from time to time. I mean, that’s just how it is. It’s what she needs and, in the past, she needed it a lot more than now, so she’s already made a significant change to her expectations based on my limitations. I’m not asking that she stop letting me out for a fuck, even as infrequent as that is. It is entirely her prerogative and I accept that.

But we both know I’m better when the contents of the device are treated like some vestigial remnant of what I was prior to evolving into what I am now.

Speaking of which, my mom sent me a picture the other day of me in 2002. It was taken maybe two months before my daughter was born and I look like I’m 17. This was before Belle made me come, so the second thought that went through my head after being stunned a how young I looked was what a waste it was that it would be another six years before that guy’s dick was taken away from him. We’d already had our kids. The two we said we’d have. We didn’t need it anymore.

And that’s why I ended up locking on to the concept of vestigial. My phone defines it “forming a very small remnant of something that was once much larger or more notable. Or, pertaining to an organ or part of the body, degenerate, rudimentary, or atrophied, having become functionless in the course of evolution.”

I have evolved. Away from the needy, selfish, willful asshole who thought mostly of himself and his pleasure and into the full flower of the sub I always was deep inside. The sub that was trapped under the weight of the will of the penis. But here we are on the other side of all that. The penis is vestigial to who and what I am now. “Degenerate, atrophied, and functionless.” It’s not even a penis anymore. It’s just contents. Nothing more than a remnant of my former self. I always, always, always need to think of it that way. Because that is what it is.

And thank god we got here. I honestly can’t imagine what we’d be like right now if I still had a cock. I don’t want to imagine it. I am incredibly lucky Belle keeps me locked up. That she expects me to be. And prefers me that way. I can never, ever let my hormones make me forget that. Not for a day. Not even an hour. Not for a moment.

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Polishing the knob

It’s been more than a decade now since I first put on the Steelheart I usually wear. That kind of blows my mind (which is the only thing getting blown around here, badum CHING). And, honestly, there’s not much that has to be done to it from a maintenance standpoint. Every couple of weeks I need to take it off and soak it in vinegar to get the crusties off. But, you know, it’s made of stainless steel. It’s the OG low maintenance material.

One thing I have always wanted to improve on the device is its gloss. Those of us with a fetish for shiny metal really like gloss and another device I have, the Rigid Chastity Halfshell, has always been way, way shinier than the Steelheart. Some of that may be based on the kind of stainless used by Rigid, but I wanted to know if I could improve on the Steelheart’s decade worth of patina.

One day, I was dicking around in the basement and found my old Dremel. And that somehow clicked with my desire to give the Steelheart more polish. In the past, I’ve used polishing clothes impregnated with some kind of oily compound that did a serviceable job, but all they did was bring the Steelheart back to a reasonable facsimile of its out-of-the-box finish. I wanted something beyond that and realized the Dremel was a possible solution.

A little searching on Amazon resulted in the ordering of some buffing attachments and some polishing compound ✨filled with diamond dust✨! To keep the tube of the Steelheart steady during the procedure, I put it on the end of a mallet handle and then put the business end of the mallet in a vice. Since I wasn’t really sure what I was doing, I decided to try polishing the underside of the tube first. After applying the compound and spinning up the Dremel and then cleaning the excess compound off, I was pleasantly surprised at the difference so decided to sally forth with the rest of the tube.

The thing I didn’t like about the buffers was how the Dremel, even at its lowest speed, would essentially spin them apart and leave a cloud of little woolen fibers floating around the workbench. I found I needed to keep the buffer in contact with the tube to minimize that issue. I was also hoping the polishing compound would work out some tiny scratches the tube has picked up over the years, but no such luck. Perhaps a compound with a larger grit would work, but then I figure I’d need to use the fine grit compound to get the high gloss going.

In the end, it’s still not as shiny as the Halfshell. But it’s noticeably more mirror-like than it was. I may experiment with various compounds and perhaps a longer duration of Dremel usage. In any event, it is improved and there remains nothing at all as sexy as high gloss stainless steel.

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Stress

The past few months have been daunting for me. Mostly related to dealing with an aged parent and being an only child, but contributing to the stress has been a significant home remodel project (which I’m not doing but has nonetheless created a lot of disruption in the house), some personal travel, my daughter’s high school graduation, her resultant anxiety about going off to college and some dithering about whether she wants to do that or take a gap year, and Belle’s job requiring her to work ridiculously long hours here at her office away from the office (aka, our house). Plenty of things to knock me out of my comfortable rhythm of life. And this week will be something of a crescendo as many of these things are intersecting and, oh yeah, I forgot to block my schedule at work.

Part of the comfortable rhythm I mentioned is when Belle lets me get her off. North of 95% of the time I get to bring her to orgasm is on the weekend. Weekend mornings. And a lot of those mornings I haven’t been home or some other thing has gotten in the way. I doubt in the past five or six weeks I’ve given her more than a couple orgasms instead of the ten or twelve that might otherwise have happened.

And that sounds not great for her on the surface, but for all I know she’s been taking care of herself while I was away. It’s really not great for me because, as I’ve been kept in chastity this entire time, I have no outlet for all the energy built up inside me. A normal guy might go jack off for relief, but my one and only outlet for that kind of thing is Belle’s pussy and I’ve barely touched it.

This has led to me feeling a lot more stressed than I might otherwise and also somewhat emotional with swings back and forth as well as being short tempered. The dark and unpleasant side of enforced male chastity.

And here we are very late on a Sunday with me staying up to pick up my mom at the airport after being away for yet two more weekend mornings with their pussy access meaning tomorrow I’ll be extra tired as I balance work, life, mom, etc.

I have no tidy ending for this one. I’m stressed and unpleasantly frustrated. I need an outlet. And I don’t have one. Hurmph.

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Polling

Sometimes I ask questions on the Twitter in the form of the polling feature and then I’m immediately frustrated by its limitations. For one, I can only ask questions that have four answers. Then there’s the excessively short character limit for each option. Yes, yes, I know I could do like a Google form thing. But then that would require forethought and stuff.

Anyway, I recently asked a series of questions about duration of lockup that I think are interesting. First one…

My use of the word “endurance” was called out, but…based on my reading of the dictionary, I did, in fact, mean “endurance” so there we go.

Anyway, this ended up how I thought it would based on my experience and what I’ve heard and read from others. Some people are presumably new to chastity and are just trying to make it though the night. I remember those days. But 3/4 of people are doing what I’d consider “long term” (though that’s an interesting point — what defines “long term” chastity?”). Thirty-nine percent are doing it the way Belle and I are. Months to years indefinitely, I think, defines how we do it. It’s our “endurance goal.”

Next question I asked was…

Again, not a shock. The only somewhat surprising thing is only 15% of people are doing lock up terms “about the same” now versus when they started. Of course, they could have started last week. I’d be curious to know of the guys doing it less now than then, is it due to device issues? Not being able to find a good fit? Or because their keyholder didn’t/doesn’t like it?

Then I asked…

Once more, not a shock. Not based on my experience and what I hear and read from others.

I think all this is important for those just getting into enforced male chastity or thinking about experimenting with it (on either side of the lock). Locking up penises is rarely done as a hobby. It’s not a once in a while thing. The practice expands in a way opposite that of the locked up member. The more you have it, the more you want it. Days turn to weeks and months then years and the one being locked nearly always wants more of it, not less.

One more question about how dicks are being locked…

Half of those responding say what they want is to be mostly or always locked. Another third say periods of being locked then not, which is how Belle and I did it for a while. Until it became clear we had to take it to the “mostly or always” stage. That was something we both wanted.

I guess the nature of male chastity allows for it to consume one’s relationship and sex life. Those into bondage or sadomasochism or what have you can’t do them all the time. But male chastity can be done all the time, even when the couple is apart. That’s potent for a kink that becomes more compelling as the time practicing it goes on.

Finally, I asked…

Less than a quarter of those locked in chastity want to have an orgasm when they’re released. More than half would rather be teased then relocked while the remainder don’t want to be unlocked at all.

This gets to how chastity rewrites the basecode of those being locked. We start to crave the crave more than getting what we crave. Even to the point of being disappointed when the key shows up and they hear it’s orgasm day.

I guess this is what I was trying to get at when I wrote about the two types of men in chastity. Those who still think about the device and its contents separately and those who only think about the device. That’s what it does to you. Maybe not to every guy, but to a very large percentage of them. You don’t have to just take my word for it.

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The confidence of the contained

What with Covid receding (in the US, anyway), life is starting to return to some kind of normalcy. One part of that is our daughter now goes to school four days a week rather than being remote as she was when the year started. And, since she’s vaccinated, she’ll be in-person at college next year, too.

I only mention that to set the stage for what happened earlier. It was just Belle and I alone in the house and…wait, you’re expecting some hot sex thing here, aren’t you? Oh dear. I’m sorry. It wasn’t hot sex. I should have maybe said that earlier so as to avoid you getting your hopes up.

Anyway, we were at home alone and I was back from my run and she was in the bathroom after her shower doing her hair and stuff. Being alone meant I could hop in the shower with her in there but leave the door open so she didn’t get steamed out. And as I stood at the sink and got ready, naked as I prefer to be, I could leave the door open as we conversed about various things even as she was going back and forth from our room and the office.

Right after I put the shaving cream on my neck I got a call from the contractor doing work on the house about some piece of minutiae related to the work he’s doing for us (I’m picky and he knows it). So I took the call and we discussed the minutiae and our plan for going forward and after I hung up went out into the hall to discuss the thing with Belle. Both of us, standing in the hall, she clothed and ready for the day, me totally naked except for the Holy Trainer v4 Nano (Steelheart needed cleaning) and shaving cream on my neck.

There was a time right after we started using chastity in our relationship that I felt super uncomfortable with her seeing it. It made me very self-conscious. In my defense, it was the CB6K which is hideously ugly, but still. I wasn’t really ready to accept the device as normal. I still felt like a freak for wanting it on me. And that led to insecurity about it.

Now it’s the total opposite. Had I been unlocked for some reason, I suspect I would have put a towel around my waist in that situation because I don’t like her seeing the contents exposed anymore. When she unlocks me for her pleasure, I turn away from her to remove whatever I’m wearing and get back to her and under the covers as quickly as possible. I realized I was doing this at some point when she told me to get up and close the door after she let me out and the two steps back from the door to the bed where she could see the contents flopping in the breeze made me fight the urge to cover it with my hand. I’m just super not comfortable with the thing anymore. Not with her, not with myself. Not at all.

And in thinking about this and my last post, I find the device makes me more confident now. Which I guess has to do with me feeling more whole while I wear it. At the end of my camping trip, we drove out on the road that’s basically a washed out creek bed and stopped in a clearing a few miles from the highway to air-up tires and say our goodbyes before we went our separate ways. I wanted to also change into street clothes from my smelly camping stuff and stood in the open back door of my truck and did so. At one point, I was completely naked except for my socks and the Steelheart and I didn’t feel scared or rushed or any of the things I would even if I was just changing in a locker room where nakedness is expected. Somehow something has flipped in my head where enforced chastity equals confidence and floppy visible penis equals anxiety and even something bordering on shame.

If I explore this more, that time I was pulled out of line and made to show the device to a couple TSA agents in Chicago didn’t leave me feeling embarrassed or shamed. It made me feel empowered. I even liked it. Not that I’m going out of my way to flaunt what’s between my legs (I mean, other than here and on Twitter and Instagram), but when it has to happen and it situationally makes sense, that’s how it is. Deal, world. I suppose this is why my chastity bump doesn’t freak me out anymore. OMG THEY CAN SEE MY BUMP. Yeah, okay. Whatevs.

I wish we lived in a world where everyone’s uniquenesses were accepted and celebrated. Where the millions (my estimation) of men around the world in chastity were understood and tolerated. In short, I wish this part of me wasn’t secret. I can’t change that it has to be, but I do get to decide how I feel about people knowing it about me. And I refuse to let their ignorance about it influence my confidence that it and I am valid.