Tag: Steelworxx

Posted on

Buying advice

Since I just got back from my last week-long camping and hiking extravaganza of the year, I really don’t have much to blog about. Luckily, I received a question via the feedback page and have decided I could cheat my way into having a post by answering it here.

Reader Chris says…

I am planning to order a Steelheart device and have used your blog as a primary resource on learning about it’s pros and cons.

I appear to be similarly equipped (endowed?) as you (although no PA piercing) and use similar settings in my CB-6000. Although I use the second smallest spacer and the middle sized ring. (I think you use the smallest spacer instead)

Back in the day, yes I did.

 I am pretty sure that I want the 35mm wide tube and the 42mm a-ring.

I’m also certain that I want the integrated lock.

I have a few questions for you if you don’t mind:

1) Your SH-S is 70mm… the longest available steelheart length is 105mm, which is roughly the same the cb-6000. I’d like something smaller in length than the CB-6000 but don’t wish to encounter any nocturnal pain (pain which you dont seem to mind so long as tolerable)…

What length do you feel would provide the better fit w.out the night time discomfort you get using the 70mm tube? I’m thinking 85 – 90mm… thoughts?

In my experience, having a tube that arrests the erection at a size as close to the penis’ flaccid length as possible is more comfortable than one that allows it to reach half-mast. However, the more the erection is compressed, the more pressure is placed on the cuff ring. Were I to do it over, I would have ordered a tube that was perhaps even a little shorter than the SH-S tube (70mm). I do need a little extra space in there for the PA and fixing hardware, but I bet I could lose 3-5mm as still be good.

In short, I think the nocturnal pain is more a function of the ring, not the tube, and shorter tubes tend to be better than longer ones.

2) the extra tube ring added for comfort… you mentioned that it occasionally causes discomfort, lol. Do you still recommend the extra feature? I see you have it on both steelheart tubes that you’ve ordered

The weld holding the “comfort” ring on is the culprit. I wish Dietmar would not place it at the bottom of the tube where the pressures between the erection and the thin skin attaching it to the scrotum is the greatest. Perhaps two offset a centimeter or so in each direction would be better, but I don’t know for sure. I’ve ordered both my tubes with that ring because I suspect the thinner, relatively sharp edge of the tube by itself would be problematic. I would advise getting it but seeing if Dietmar could either ensure the weld is very smooth or offset it as I described.

3) I can’t stand the idea of squishing the boys through a solid ring so I plan to order the Bipartite ring instead (http://steelworxx.de/Bipartite-A-Ring-for-all-cb-47p.html ). Any experience with such a ring and/or any opinions?

From my experience with the CB6K, I think any nook or cranny is a problem, especially when on the ring. I think having it hinged is asking for problems. Popping my nuts though the ring has become a bit more twingy lately as I think they’re larger than they used to be, but it’s a very fleeting sensation and way worth not getting any hot spots from a hinge. I would not pay extra for that feature.

4) Finally, any other advice of any kind that you feel will help me in ordering the best device is greatly appreciated. Thank you for your time… and your blog!

I think your wearing the CB6K first is the right approach. As I’ve said before, it’s not a perfect analog to moving to steel, but it helps get you in the ballpark from a sizing perspective and allows your body to adjust and “settle in” to what it probably your true size. You don’t say how long you’ve worn the CB6K, but I’m assuming it’s been long enough that you started at a larger sized ring and spacer and moved down over time.

I also think when buying custom steel, you need to prepare yourself for the likelihood that at least part of it will need to be adjusted after you wear it. I had a too large ring and tube, though only the ring was immediately obvious to me. Based on what I read in the experiences of others, it seems like 30-50% of guys will replace a piece within a few months and north of 75% will replace another chunk or even order an entirely new device after a year or so.

Good luck! Moving to steel was the best thing we’ve done with regard to chastity play. I’m sure you won’t be disappointed.

Posted on

Wicked pincher

Back in the can today. I woke up and the little annoyed spot was 86% healed. Not sure what it is about the skin in that area of the body, but is seems to put itself right faster than other skin.

So, I worked out this morning all free and floppy (figured there was no reason to make stuff grind down there any more than necessary), showered without rubbing for the genie (bonus points should be awarded), and locked the device back into place so I could greet the day in the manner in which I have become accustomed.

All great, right? Wrong! I’m in my first meeting of the day and start to feel an odd little twinge from the area where the bottom of the penis joins with the scrotum. There might be a name for that little bit but Wikipedia is failing me. So anyway, I slyly shift my seating position and give the device a little shove in order to unpinch whatever little bit is being squished. No luck. The odd little twinge starts to grow a bit more insistent and I start to shift in my seat in a vain attempt to sort it out. Again, no luck.

It’s at this point that the sensible part of my brain (the one I clearly inherited from my mother who is nothing if not a picture of Midwestern sensible) starts berating the rest of my brain for thinking this whole chastity thing is hot. The meeting over, I retreat to my office and reach not so subtly down my pants to pull the whole device away from my body. This is often a way to “reset” whatever little bits of skin have become trapped by whatever little bits of steel.

Fucking hell, that hurt! Jesus! I’ve never actaully felt anything like that. A strong, intense burning from that otherwise nameless intersection of tender male parts. I frantically started rooting though my bag looking for the emergency key, but as soon as I start I know I won’t find it. It’s safely nestled in my nightstand drawer where it’s been for months. FUCK.

I retreated further to the server room. It has a lock on the door and is infrequently entered. Once behind the door, I pulled down my pants to do a visual on the tortured meat. Lifting up the tube to get a look at the spot sends such an intense stab of eye-watering pain that my knees almost buckled. It’s so bad I halfway expect to see blood. How could there not be? But there isn’t.

After more gingerly approaching the lifting (actually, more pushing the nuts out of the way than lifting of the tube), what I see instead is a little ball of penis skin trapped somehow under the edge of the tube right at the base of the penis. I’ve never ever seen this. Nor do I have any idea why it’s trapped, but the trapped skin has turned white from the stress of the pinch. Without a key and with no ability to reach down to that part of the device on the inside, I started to pull the device away from me while simultaneously trying to work the shaft back with my other hand, pulling the skin on the very flaccid little member from the top hoping to free it on the bottom. It was a motion similar to what I’d do if I was trying to pull out, but of course, that’s impossible. All I wanted to do was free the pinched bit.

I can’t say why it was pinched or what caused it to be so stubborn in getting itself unpinched but I know the very nanosecond it got free. I felt a cool wave of relief wash over me starting at my shoulders, going up over my head, and down my front. And just like that, the pain was gone. The Wicked Pinch of 2011 was no more.

Posted on

A little Friday nerdery

I decided yesterday to go commando. I hardly ever go to work or into the world like this anymore, but yesterday was warm and I was wearing roomy, breezy shorts and the muse moved me. While getting dressed, I simply left the underwear on the bed.

Once I got to work, I was walking across the parking lot toward the building and enjoying the stiff breeze blowing against me. The really hot weather had moved out the night before and the cool front was kicking up the atmosphere a bit. After I got about three-quarters of the way across, I realized that the wind was pressing my clothing to my body and, as I walked, the perfectly clear outline of my tube was plainly visible, rocking back and forth with the motion of my legs, under the thin fabric of my shorts. There were others around and about the doorway and in the lot, but I can’t say who saw what (if anything). So…commandos beware. It didn’t stop me from doing it again today, though.

I woke up last night with some nasty pinching at the end of the tube. In my rush to get back in, I neglected to replace my chunky 4ga PA ring with the space-saving 8ga ring I usually use in the device. That was a mistake and one I’ve made before. I’d get up and walk around to bring the swelling down only to crawl back into bed and find myself in the same spot 15 minutes later after I fell back asleep and the nocturnal hydraulics kicked back in. I could have popped my key (had I woken up Belle, I would have been in trouble), but toughed it out until this morning when I asked Belle if I could borrow hers.

As I took the tube off, I found the insides to be coated with slimy precum leakage. A strong whiff of male ejaculate wafted up to meet me. I had to act fast as Belle was standing right next to me and her presence (and potential observation) combined with the leakage-induced slipperiness of the meat combined with the generally horny as fuck condition I’ve been in since I got home didn’t leave me a lot of time before the blinking and light-shy penis figured out its shell had been removed. I pried the big ball out of the 4ga ring, removed it, slipped in the thinner ring, snapped in the smaller ball, and got the device reassembled and locked in record time. I felt like one of those guys who can disassemble and reassemble his rifle in the dark. Even now as I sit here and type this, I can feel the difference.

In other nerdery news, I still find the base of my scrotum to be adjusting to the ring again. Even with lube, I’m feeling periods of burning. That might be due to the fact that I’ve had zero support down there for well over 24 hours now. No underwear means the meat has to support the device all the time. Just thought of that. Hmmm…

Posted on

The Looker 03

Dietmar has a new toy to drool over. It’s called The Looker 03 and sports a PA “shackle” (damn, but if that’s not a sexy word) that’s reminiscent of a Steelwerks Extreme lock.

I see this and my immediate, visceral reaction is, “Woof!” But I have a few concerns:

  1. The damned thing costs, at current exchange rates (less VAT), $494.
  2. I can’t imagine you’d be able to wear that and pee standing up. The shackle (I just love saying that) goes through the main hole in the half-cup at the tip leaving urine to stream through all the little holes surrounding it and out the back though the piercing (which ends up soaking the scrotum). This thing’s a sprayer (which is not, in and of itself, a bad thing – I’m just sayin’).
  3. Based on my previous experimentation with PA security (both with cables on the CB6K and my PA ring on a special little bar I had added to our Jail Bird), it seems to me that there’d be the opportunity for pinching between where the shackle (there’s that word again) comes out of the piercing and the back of the half-cup (or even between the shackle and the two lateral bottom bars of the cage). I don’t think there’d be the issue with pulling I found with the CB6K+cable because, presumably, this cage would be tailored to my body and there’s be less opportunity for the penis to move back and forth along its length.
  4. Finally, the shackle (fuuuck!) just seems kind of unwieldy. Like it’d get pushed all hither and yon in my underwear and end up pulling on the piercing.

But, goddamn, it’s sexy. I know I’ll be going back and looking at it again and again.

Did I mention it’s got a shackle?!

Posted on

Unencumbered penises are so overrated

Belle gave me the key yesterday morning just as she was leaving for the day. I admit I asked for it, but she gave it freely. She left me there in bed (I had the day off and was supposedly sleeping in) so I rolled over to her nightstand drawer and took the Steelheart out of the flowery little drawstring bag she put it in when I left two weeks ago.

Getting the ring on was difficult. For one, I was doing it all by touch under the sheets, but my nuts (which have never popped through the 40mm ring with ease) seemed a bit larger than usual. The wince when the right one went through (the larger of the two) was intense. Then there was the penis. Frankly, it just wouldn’t cooperate. Once I had the nuts though, it was sporting a pretty healthy semi and getting it to follow was a challenge. Once that was accomplished, the hydraulics had simply progressed too far to imagine the tube going on.

I thought this was funny. I’ve put the damned thing on maybe a hundred times now and haven’t found it to be so maddeningly arousing in a long while. Tired of waiting for it to relax (and aware that the ring itself was working against me), I got up and filled a baggy with ice cubes. Getting to the freezer from the bedroom and then back to the bathroom was tricky since by that point the penis was tenting out my pajama bottoms pretty well. I had to hook the head of the thing into the waistband so it wouldn’t flop all over. I thought that by walking around, getting the baggy, getting the ice, etc, it’d go down on its own, but no dice. It and I knew what was going on and about to happen. In the bathroom I left the ice on it so long it got numb, but didn’t really go down all that much. It took a really long time, but finally it was soft enough to push the tube on and squish the recalcitrant penis meat down into it. Once the lock was in place, it tried to get hard, but of course couldn’t. Neener, neener! Gotcha!

I’ve said before how wearing a device all the time stretches out your nutsack. Well, it’s apparently the case that the stretching is not permanent because for the rest of the day it burned at the base of the ring. I lubed it several times but could always feel it pulling on the skin. Today, it seems as though my scrotum is broken back in.

Unsurprisingly, the 4:00 AM wake-up call from down below felt exquisite. I got up to relieve myself as usual (takes the worst of the edge off the compression), but absolutely reveled in the feeling of being confined when I got back to bed. I reached out to her sleeping form and laid my hand on her arm. Everything had returned to normal.

Yeah, I got it bad.

Posted on

HNThumper XXXVI: The great outdoors

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Continue reading “HNThumper XXXVI: The great outdoors”

Posted on

Fog of war

Last night, Belle and I had a fight. A screaming, nasty, bitter fight. It wasn’t about sex or anything like that, but it was unresolved when she fell asleep and we woke up this morning on tender hooks around each other and even this evening (though perhaps less so).

After she was asleep, I popped the emergency key and took the device off. The scope and scale of the altercation made it simply impossible to keep it on. Right around 4:00 AM when I’m awoken by nearly six inches of hard cock trying to fit into less than three inches of steel tube and my nutsack is stretched tight around my testicles, heavy and swollen with unreleased ejaculate, the only thing that makes it all bearable is knowing that’s how she wants me. But, of course, last night I didn’t give a fuck how she wanted me to be so I took the damned thing off.

I was tempted to jack off. Very tempted. Perhaps I should have. On the one hand, it would have allowed me to think a little more clearly and be focused on the argument’s aftermath, but on the other I know I would have been wracked with guilt and remorse 2.33 seconds after the sticky white goo splashed all over the sink. So I didn’t. I did jack off in the morning, but not so much that I came.

In any event, I was out all day and all day I felt weird. Hand in my pocket, I’d reach over and feel this big squishy mass where my usually hard and smooth “cock” would be. My nuts were wandering all over the place and felt all goofy and absurdly random and the little soft penis (without any PA jewelry at all) was like a Mister Magoo worm nestled among them. That cock – my old cock that I gave to Belle – doesn’t seem like it belongs there any more. Certainly not now at roughly a week and and half since I last came (right about the time the desire and frustration come back from the dead). I realized sometime in the afternoon that I wanted back in the device. Not because she wanted me there, but because I wanted to be there.

Also, I found it hard to maintain my righteous indignation left over from the fight. Not that I didn’t have a valid position, but the more I thought about being back in the Steelheart and the more I thought about my last post and the kind of interesting new thoughts in my head the fact that all the naked people over on the Portfolio made an erection in my pants that – gasp! – people could actually see if I stood up…I just didn’t want us to be fighting any more. There was not a point where we made up or further conversation leading to a mutual understanding or any of that adult, reasonable stuff reasonable adults do when they fight. It was just me, the little rabbit, capitulating and wanting like hell to be back in my cage.

So, back I am. I put it on just before dinner. I doubt she even knew I was out. As I slipped the cold steel tube over Mister Magoo, I knew it was right. It felt right. And I wonder, had I jacked off last night when the thought struck me and had I squirted all over the sink and smelled the pungent odor of manhood again, would I have felt the same? Would I still be angry with her instead of whatever I am now? And would that be better or worse than what I am now?

Chastity and long-term denial aren’t just sex games. They can radically alter how you think and feel in unexpected ways. I can’t answer my questions from the last paragraph, but I do know that almost six inches of swollen penis meat packed into a less than three inch tube is really the only way I want to be. And when it wakes me up at 4:00 AM, maybe it’ll be bearable because I know that’s how it’s supposed to be.

Posted on

Just a theory

Following up on yesterday’s post, I’ve been wondering something.

I said:

Being diminished in that way really worked for me.

And…

I like the feeling of being optional and a beneficiary of her charity.

And…

I felt she knew exactly what she wanted for her and was in total control of how it happened.

And it was good.

And then in a comment:

If I can stay in the right frame of mind and recall the feeling I have right now, then completely severing any right of mine to her pleasure – to really and truly accept my role – could be revelatory and powerful.

What I wonder is if this isn’t where the cuckold fantasy comes from. It could be just a natural progression from…

  1. Learning to pleasure a woman without your cock, and
  2. Starting to think of her pleasure as your pleasure, and
  3. Reveling in her becoming more confident in finding a way to her pleasure that’s all her own, and
  4. No longer thinking of your cock as something that’s part of the sex she’ll have with you, and finally
  5. Learning to take pleasure in her pleasure regardless of whether or not you’re involved.

No, I’m not a cuck and Belle has never shown any interested in being with another man and I’m quite sure there’s a whole lot more going on in relationships where this has happened, but for me, I can see the path to the fantasy pretty clearly. I want her to be totally and completely sexually fulfilled. It has, truly, become the primary way I find my own fulfillment. I also have developed a taste for being treated quite unfairly. Even to the point of liking it when she belittles and humiliates me. I really like it. I can’t think of any more potent way to do that than taking another lover. A more satisfying one.

I have a bunch of fantasies that would never work outside my head. This might be one of them. But, the progression makes sense to me. Not that I’ll ever find out, of course, since Belle’s demonstrated zero interest in heading off in that direction.

That being said, if she was interested in plucking these particular heartstrings of mine, she was heading in the right direction the other night. Were she to remind me that, while I may be adept at utilizing the tools that lead to her pleasure, I’m not the actual implement of that pleasure. She used Pink during her night in the hotel spa just fine without me, after all. In fact, I’m not even capable of being the implement of her pleasure. I can barely last a full minute inside her now. There’s little chance I could satisfy her in the condition I most often find myself. She could remind me of that. How this cock I’ve given her isn’t much use for anything anymore.

It seems counterintuitive to treat your lover with such disrespect. It goes against everything you see in popular culture and learn through normal socialization. But, yeah. I get it. I really do.

Posted on

Squeaky clean

Air travel stinks. I was talking to my coworkers as we flew back yesterday and one of them remarked that when she was young her family dressed up to fly. How it was such a big deal. Now, planes are nothing more than busses with wings. Endless charges for such luxuries as baggage and rude attendants and knees pushed up into your chin for three hours. Man, I’ve had it.

Anyway, I’m back home. Finally. Night before I left, even with a numb dick, I couldn’t fall asleep. It was a combination of being really horned up and having had a glass of iced tea with dinner. That little extra jolt of caffeine mixed with the hormones kept me up to four in the morning so I got maybe two or three hours of sleep. The tossing and turning went on so long, the feeling came back to the cock and in my delirious half sleep, half awake state, my hand found it again and again. I’d edge myself then control would come back and I’d roll over only to find my fevered brain reinserting all kinds of pornographic thoughts before me and the cock would swell and the whole thing would start over again. I knew that if I just came I’d likely fall asleep quickly, but I resisted the best I could. It was one of the hardest evenings of orgasm control I’ve had in a while. The barrier between pre and post orgasm was membrane thin and, by the time I pulled up and stopped stroking, I was leaking great quantities of ejaculate. I didn’t get the tingly sensation of orgasm and the thoughts and desires came back quickly enough for me to know it wasn’t an orgasm, but it was a very close scare. In the future, even if Belle lets me go to these things unprotected, I should probably bring the Steelheart along for those times I feel I’m losing control. When it’s in place, even if I hold my own key, the Rule of Law descends and my relationship with the cock changes completely.

Got home well after Belle went to sleep last night so I’m still free. I took the opportunity to clean out the Steelheart tube thoroughly this morning. I find that when I’m locked into it for weeks at a time (as I just was – essentially a month), a type of build-up appears at the end of the tube. It appears to be some kind of mineral-type stuff that I assume is left there by frequent contact with urine. It clings to the steel and can’t be cleaned out with soap and water, but I’ve found soaking the tube in a vinegar bath loosens it up enough that it can be wiped out.

I took the opportunity afterwards to take the above picture. I shows how tight things are in the end the tube with the PA fixing and 4 gauge ring. All that squished with the penis meat into a 2.5″ long steel cage. Time will tell when the meat is again so squished. Belle’s given me no indication when she wants it back in there.