Hashtag Locktober

I have no idea where Locktober came from. First I heard of it was from Andy and then there was a hashtag and now it’s a thing. I made something of a flippant response on the Twitter…

Except the deal with Locktober is to be locked for all of October. And I’m not always locked, just north of 98% of the time (last month excluded). I told Belle about Locktober and she was intrigued. She’s decided we will play along…for now.

See, Belle hasn’t been fucked since September 10. I know this because I keep track of such things. We were apart for the better part of several weeks and the last time she let me inside her was way back one month ago today. And while I was unlocked on my trip for more than is customary, I have been continuously locked since 11:00 AM on the 19th of September, three weeks ago today. I’m just not entirely certain Belle can wait that long to feel a hard penis inside her again.

But who knows. Last night I came into the bedroom while she was watching the football and apparently I looked cute to her because she said so and I asked why because I thought I looked kind of schlubby and she said maybe it was Locktober. Like, I was more attractive because I was going to be locked for the whole month. And the number of times she’s had me get her off this month puts it on track for a record in that department.

So yeah, Belle likes to get fucked, but this is also kind of a classic non-intuitive side effect of enforced chastity. The one you read about in all the hawt chastity porn. Like any mythology, it does have a basis in reality. For whatever reason, the idea of not being fucked by me because she’s keeping the penis locked up for the whole month is making her more likely to want to have sex. You just can’t make that make sense to someone who’s never heard of enforced male chastity. It’s a real paradox.

It’s been quite difficult for me during those times she lets me get her off because the penis has learned that while it’s locked up all the time, it does get to come out for 20-30 minutes a week and get wet inside her. While I feel her orgasm pulse through her body, the penis is straining hard against its confinement and pushing up the memory of what sliding inside her wet pussy feels like just to torment me. It wants to fuck her badly. It becomes an acute craving. And sure, that’s painful for about 12 seconds because the yearning need is strong, but then it fades and is replaced with the equally nonsensical and paradoxical feelings of submissive gratitude for being cared for in this way. Attended to, after a fashion.

So while dealing with the meat’s disappointment at not getting wet is fleetingly difficult, I think this Locktober thing is a good idea. It reminds us that whatever attention the contents of the devices locked onto us get is the sole discretion of the one holding our key. It demonstrates how penises are not required for satisfying sex. It reinforces the natural order of our relationships. And, for those keyholders needing it, it provides a shelter for any lingering guilt they feel over leaving their partners secure.

All that said, I’m still not sure Belle can go three more weeks without feeling me inside her. We’ll see. Whatever happens, it is — as always — up to her.

September metrics

IMG_6950September was an odd month. The issue I ran into on my camping trip along with time I was left out near the beginning of the month for some sore spots and the issues the Metal Holy Trainer gave me combined for a relatively massive amount of unlocked time. The penis was unguarded for 17% of the month. Seventy percent of the time I’ve been unlocked in 2017 so far happened in September. While none of it was by choice, I still find it personally disappointing that it ended up that way.

The device breakdown saw the Steelheart once again getting the majority of action. The Halfshell, Looker 02, and Metal Holy Trainer divvied up about a third of the locked time.

Belle and I were also apart for three out of the five weekends in September so those numbers are weird, too. She came ten times which makes September the second-highest month for her orgasms, but half of them were at her own hand. One was unique in my tracking in that it involved both the vibrator and my fingers (and, as I recall, was an especially good one). The rest were the result of my prestidigitation.

I was allowed to fuck her just three times, the second-lowest number in a month this year. I only ejaculated twice. I had zero orgasms.

IMG_6966September is also the end of the quarter. The device breakdown shows the penis living in seven different confinements. The Steelheart took up almost half the time in those three moths while the Halfshell got nearly a third. Naturally, my unlocked time was quite high at 6% thanks to September.

Belle came 24 times in the quarter, one time fewer than the previous quarter but four more than in the first quarter. Only one of those was from riding the penis. Eight were self-administered, two were from me using the vibrator on her, and the rest were my fingers. No oral. [sadface]

I was allowed to fuck her 12 times, one of which resulted in an authorized orgasm (though it sucked). Ten included ejaculation. One was “dry.” Naturally, I didn’t jack off once. In fact, I don’t think I’ve done that in more than a year now. Not since…the incident.

Me, absent a very good reason

“I don’t understand,” she said.

I said I was uncertain about being locked up in the woods for a week.

“I mean, you’ve done it before.”

That’s true. I have been more than once in the woods for a week and stayed locked up the whole time.

“Explain this to me.”

I couldn’t. Truth is, sometimes in that environment I just don’t feel like being locked up. Especially when I’m with nothing but other men. Big, straight, muggle men. The feeling evaporates. Also, the hygiene issue can be complicating. One week, I wore the Looker 02 the entire time without a shower or anything. Yuck.

“I’d be willing to let you go unlocked, but I need to know why you need to be that way.”

I couldn’t say why I needed to be unlocked. As I was struggling to make the words, the part of my brain that was thinking being locked up even when I didn’t want to be came up with a plan. The Steelheart without the PA fixing. I could pull the penis out every once in a while and wipe it down and also clean the inside of the tube. There was enough privacy for that, surely. No, it wasn’t total security, but it was locked up. And locked up was how she wanted me absent a very good reason to be otherwise. And I didn’t have a very good reason.

“Never mind,” I said.

Mailbag

A reader named Andrew left this comment to my last post…

I would be interested in hearing how many locked men have found that their locked status helped them achieve some sort of spiritual awaking or satisfaction of wearing a device, and for longer term wearers, do they miss the device when they are not wearing it. Also, I would be curious about a rather existential question if they view their device as something they own selves or something that someone else owns.

I don’t know about spiritual awakening, but I do feel that being locked and denied has put me in something like a new plane of existence, mentally. It’s as if being denied orgasm for so long has led me though a tunnel most men simply never even know exists. And once through it, while the craving and gnawing need to come is never far away, it’s more like a reactor powering this different sense of being than a negative. As if living without orgasm but in need of one is how I was meant to be. And had I not been denied, I’d have never known.

With regard to missing the device, it’s more than that. I resent not being able to wear it for whatever reason. The feeling of not being secured is foreign to me and unsettling and I only truly feel myself when there’s something covering the penis. I feel as though the Steelheart in particular is more me than what it secures and in those increasingly rare moments I see the unprotected penis in the mirror, it’s off-putting. Not all penises, of course. Just that one. It’s natural state is to be shiny and heavy between my legs, not squishy and flopping free.

It’s a thorny question as to who I feel owns the device. Of course, Belle controls my state but, as I said, it looks and feels more like me than what it contains so it’s hard to think of it as someone else’s at the same time. I refer to the devices as Belle’s but she doesn’t seem invested in which I wear at any given moment at this point. The key is almost always in a place I’m aware of, so even that isn’t so mysterious. I think the thing I feel isn’t mine isn’t so much the device or the penis but the sensation I get from the penis when it’s exposed. That’s not mine and it’s not something I should be able to feel without permission. That’s definitely across the line.

Brian said…

Those of us who have experienced durations of chastity, or even just denial, tend to experience a ‘plateau’ of the emotions generated. For me, it’s still an up and down experience, waxing and waning, if you prefer, but waxing and waning at a higher level than when I’m freely orgasming at my leisure. I’m pretty sure you’ve expressed this experience in your blog.

My question is this … You’ve been experiencing this state for longer than I can even imagine. Does that plateau gradually wane overall the further you go, or are your escalated emotions retaining their average elevation. (Lots of height synonyms there; I hope I’ve conveyed this adequately.)

What I’ve been feeling lately is a lengthening of the up and down waves. I don’t feel the dramatic increases like I used to. But also I don’t feel like I’m nearly as constantly horny as I once was. I can’t tell how much of this is simply getting older versus how much of this is being denied orgasm. Has my body adjusted to the hormonal load of not coming or is it just not as loaded as it once was? I don’t really know. I guess the only way to know for sure would be to start coming a lot and then stopping again. But that’s not a thing I have anything to do with.

I can say that the denial stops being so distracting and simply is, but I can’t say how long that takes. A long time. Years, for me. I do still go through periods of being pretty horny, but like I said, they’re not as severe as they once were and don’t seem to last as long.

Allen asked…

I recently came across your blog after someone told me about it on Reddit. In a recent post, you wrote something that captured my attention:

“I mean, I literally can’t fuck for more than two minutes before I’m squirting and then, once I do, the penis starts to shrivel. It may have been a fuck tool once, but it’s not now. It’s barely passable as such.”

I am a member of an odd web community of men who complain about an odd problem that I was wondering if perhaps you share with us. All my life, I have suffered from these “meh” orgasms coupled with premature ejaculation. Your words sound like they may describe a similar problem. Basically, the ejaculation comes too fast, and when it does, I don’t feel much of anything.

I recently took an interest in kink, and chastity play fascinates me. Since chastity play emphasises the part of sex that happens *before* orgasm, I thought that perhaps it might be a way to learn new ways to experience pleasure and express my sexuality. Unfortunately, my wife isn’t up for it right now, so I’m simply doing some cage-less chastity play with her. I think it may be a long time before I can make her comfortable with the idea of a chastity cage on me, but I am very patient.

The thought of making it impossible to masturbate and ejaculate and then be teased by her (or even by pornhub) sounds like it may be delightful.

I was wondering if you might relate to my words. I’m wondering if my experience tells me that I am like you.

When you sent this, I didn’t really, but just this past weekend Belle told me as I was fucking her that she wanted me to come and what happened sounds a lot like what you described. It should have been a kick-in-the-back-of-the-head kind of thing since it’s been months, but it wasn’t. There was no crest. Not crash. Just an increase of sensation and pumping of seed and that’s all. I kept stroking throughout – basically doing everything I’d normally do to come – but no post-orgasmic feelings. In fact, it pretty much felt like it always does after I ejaculate without orgasm.

I wasn’t given a chance to try again later that day or the next nor was I allowed to try and jack one out, so I don’t know if it’s a one time kind of deal or what. But once it happened, I recalled this note.

So normally, I’d say denial should enhance your sensations during orgasm because that’s what I’m used to, but now I don’t know. If that’s where you are now, perhaps not. That said, I do think it’s a great way to change the paradigm in bed away from male orgasm and towards other things. You don’t need a device to do that, just a recognition that successful sex isn’t defined by the guy shooting his load. Nor does it even require a hard penis. There’s so many other ways to enjoy sex but we’re all so focused on this one act. Literally, the money shot. Without it, it’s without value. Bullshit. Maybe your wife is freaked out by the kink aspect. I’d recommend being more circumspect towards that word. Just say you’d like to have sex in ways that focus on her and her orgasm and would like to, at least every other time or so, takes the penis out of the picture. That sounds way less scary that “male chastity” or what have you.

G asked…

I need your help. I am married bi man, have one kid. The problem I face is how to tell my wife I am bi and submissive. The moment I discovered our blog you became a role model, so please help me out.

I think you just build up the nerve and say it. You tell her and be ready to answer questions (like, no, bi isn’t gay) and be willing to make whatever compromises you think you can, but you should not feel as though there’s anything wrong with you for being this way. Ultimately, whether you can be happy in a vanilla straight relationship for the rest of your life (and people are all the time) is a question only you can answer, but my fear is a lot of guys in your position end up being guilted into buying that you’re broken in some way. You aren’t. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.

Costume party

I was on the Tumblr this morning and scrolling through like I do and once again found myself transfixed on a GIF of a guy shooting his load. He was jacking off and had a pretty big dick and it was just the come shot. Quite generous ropes of thick creaminess being thrown from the end of his cock (not this one, but a lot like it). And I had another one of these epiphanic moments that have been showing up more often lately.

There was a time, for a long time, when I’d see a guy shooting like that and get all slack-jawed and dreamy because somewhere deep down inside I wanted to be doing that too. My lizard brain was aching so hard for what I was seeing and the vibes it would radiate overpowered my bunny brain so both got drunk on the idea.

But this time, I was watching this guy come like crazy and it was more like watching a woman get off in that it was like a separate thing from my frame of reference. Like a man stroking himself off to orgasm is a being totally removed from what I am as much as a woman getting herself off is. Just another way that I feel like a separate thing from the kind of man who does that.

Some people into this chastity and denial stuff will tell you all men should be locked up and denied but I don’t think that at all. Some men absolutely should fuck and come and jack off and do whatever they want. I feel there definitely are two classes of men (at least). Those who own their own cocks and those who don’t. Those who get to shoot loads and those who only leak through the openings in their devices. Real men have cocks and use them however they like. People like me don’t and don’t.

In fact, I feel the same kind of disconnectedness from images of men fucking as I do from men coming or jacking off. They’re meant to do that. They’re designed to do it. To pleasure their partners with their dicks. To pleasure themselves with the feeling of fucking another person. Some men (and some cocks) are born to that kind of position. To assert themselves in that kind of role. But not me. I mean, I literally can’t fuck for more than two minutes before I’m squirting and then, once I do, the penis starts to shrivel. It may have been a fuck tool once, but it’s not now. It’s barely passable as such.

I suppose if I were in a gay relationship it would be as though I didn’t even have a penis, but I’m not. I’m with Belle. And she like to get fucked and cannot fuck me so I can’t let myself slip entirely into this other type of identity because there are times when she needs me to be a man. Or pretend to be one. Like, four to six times a month, max, for maybe eight to ten minutes total. But that’s not nothing.

I don’t know if this means my lizard brain is dead. I still get pretty worked up and have plenty of urges, but they’re mostly focused outward now, not inward. Maybe the lizard has been broken by years of being chained. He’s still vicious, but maybe now he’s also fuzzy and has long ears. Maybe the lizard and bunny have found a way to merge. To align their energies.

Whatever the case, those guys shooting their loads on Tumblr are like a whole different species to me now. And I’m really OK with that. Because maybe all this time I wasn’t one of them, anyway. Maybe I was only going along to get along. Maybe I’ve been bunny in a lizard costume this whole time.

 

Purity

There’s a kind of purity in being locked up while getting your partner off. A simplicity of purpose. A definition of motivation. Once a penis is taught it’s not the center of attention. That not everything in the world revolves around it. Once it learns its place and ceases to harbor expectations. The focus shifts entirely to where it belongs. From the submissive to the Dominant. From me to her.

Free of freedom

I’ve been sick. Started Thursday with minor achiness, was full-blown awful with fever, chills, and night sweats by Saturday and Sunday. I’m not out of the woods yet, but I feel as though I’m heading in the right direction.

I mention this (in addition to the implicit solicitation of sympathy) because during this period of feeling absolutely crappy and terrible, I never needed to be out of the device. Looking back on the blog here, I think I can say this is the first time I’ve been really sick in which I didn’t also feel an overwhelming desire to be unlocked. This is also the first time I’ve been sick in the nine-ish months since Belle’s made me stay locked 98-99% of the time.

I think this is a subtle but significant thing. When I was feeling my worse, the device didn’t even enter my mind. When I’m grooving, the device feels like it’s part of me, not a separate and distinct thing. I’ve never felt like that when experiencing the diametric opposite of grooving. Even during my most recent depressive episode, I said this in my last post…

Whichever steel is between my legs is just an inert mass I need to keep clean. I don’t want to be locked, I don’t want to be unlocked. I just don’t care.

I guess it was the same way when I was feeling the sickest. It’s like being locked wasn’t a situation I had to deal with or endure…it just was. Even when I’m otherwise not super excited about being that way. My acceptance of security is no longer dependent on how horny I am. It’s there even when my horniness level is below zero.

This seems related to something I wrote about last December.

There’s an aspect of all this that’s been quite difficult for me to wrap my head around. Not difficult to do. I revel in my role. But it’s a thing that’s been bubbling around inside me and that was accentuated when I was with Frodo. It’s something to do with gender. I don’t really feel like a man anymore. That’s an odd thing to see myself writing and I don’t mean it be read as if I think of myself as a female. That’s the problem, really. I don’t have the words to describe it. Less of a man and more of something else.

I’m not a man who’s locked. I’m just locked. There is no natural state for me to be other than that. I feel like I’ve reached some new level of evolution. Imaging not having a locked penis is as difficult a concept for me to accept as the opposite would be for a man who’s just learning about enforced chastity. The penis isn’t being denied freedom since it no longer has freedom to be denied. All the frustration and the pressure of constricted erections and craving to jack off and even to come are now the point. They’re not a means to an end. They’re the end.

I don’t have a penis, I have a device. And I don’t want a penis. Not like that. Not anymore. Not ever. Belle could leave the key hanging on a nail out in the open. I’d never touch it unless she handed it to me.