This originally appeared as a guest post for Dual Drew several months ago. I’ve been ruminating about starting my own blog, and the events of this evening have convinced me to give it a try. Below is that original post for Drew, as an introduction of myself to you all:
When Drew asked me to guest blog for him, I was surprised, to say the least. I’ve been such a fan boy of his for some time now. But (as those of you over 40 will remember), when Carson asked you to guest host, you just said yes. So here we are. Drew and I have a lot in common. We are both men of a certain age, although I got my AARP card a few years ago (don’t worry Drew, you get a 5% discount on BA). Both of us have our dicks locked in cages, both of us have spouses who are not naturally dominant, and both of us are trying to get our partners to be more controlling of us. However, Drew is more naturally submissive, although he has a wild Dominant streak. I am more naturally Dominant, but admit to really enjoying my submissive side. How I ended up with my cock in a cageand a collar around my neck for the past 1+ years is an interesting (I hope) story and one I will try to tell here.
First, you need to know a bit about me and a bit about my husband, Trip. I describe myself as a chaste kinkster, a switch, a husband, and as occasional property (to a Sir I have known for many years). I was born kinky. For as long as I can remember, I have had fetishes about boots, leather, bondage, and what I now know to be s/m. I am not naturally a sub, as I don’t fall into that headspace easily. I need to be taken. I need to forced (with consent, of course, although the idea of a biker gang in leather kidnapping and using me is a HUGE fantasy). I need to feel the power being taken from me to feel my submission, and having my cock in a cage is a powerful trigger for that submission.
Trip is also kinky. I met him on Recon about 12 years ago, and we have been together ever since. He is very much a bottom. He loves having very large things in his ass. His orgasms are anal. On our third date (the sex date), when I went to his place, he had set up a sling, some gloves, lube, and a variety of enormous toys. Okay, I thought, I’m in! In the beginning, we fucked like bunnies. I could tie him up, I could paddle him, I could use him, and he loved it. And I fell in love with him, hard.
Trip is an extremely sexy, bald man. I am very attracted to bald men. However, Trip is not genetically bald. He is chemotherapeutically bald. You see, Trip was diagnosed with cancer when he was a teenager. His hair fell out from the chemotherapy and never grew back. When I met him, Trip couldn’t get a hard on (chemo dick), but since he liked having my dick (and other large things) in him, and I liked putting them there, and since we both came from that, it worked out well.
Over the years, my sex life with Trip had slowed to almost non-existent. It’s not a lack of desire, but a progression of problems related to the chemo. Trip’s pancreas stopped working, his thyroid crapped out, and his gut became unpredictable (which is a problem when you are a fisting bottom). His heart doesn’t function well. But what really killed it was going on an insulin pump, because now he has wires and tubes and a remote control and the type of sex we like (rough and spontaneous) is impossible. On top of that, all my extracurricular activities stopped because, without my connection to Trip, they seemed like cheating (we have an open relationship and he knows about all my extracurricular activities). I stopped going to Folsum and IML and Dore Alley. I stopped wearing my leathers. I stopped playing with boys. I lost my kink.
Trip doesn’t feel sexy. Trip does not want me to fuck him because he doesn’t trust his gut. Trip doesn’t want to be fisted because he might bleed. I can’t hurt him because he bruises easily. Trip doesn’t want me to grab him because his sensor might break. So, instead of having intimacy with the man I love, I found my self increasingly self-isolating and jerking off and surfing for porn.
I have been fascinated with chastity for years. I bought a cb2000 when they first came out. I have been locked and I have locked boys over the years, but never more than for a few days at a time. Sir prefers me locked. About 2 years ago, I found a blog (male chastity journal) that grabbed my attention. From that, I found Denying Thumper. That bunny is very, very good at describing his chastity experience, his submission and denial in exquisite (and erotic) detail that really resonated with me (even if I didsometimes change Belle to Bill in my head, sorry Thumper). I found myself jerking off constantly to Thumper’s tales of denial and submission (the irony here is not lost on me), and somewhere in the middle of that blog, a man named Drew popped up, whose life and loves and struggles closely mirror mine.
I knew I wanted to be locked for more than just a few days at a time and I knew I wanted it with Trip. I needed to have the connection with him again. I just wanted him back, and I needed to find some way to reconnect sexually with him and with my kink. I found myself going into my closet in the morning and secretly putting on a cage (I was literally back in the fucking closet) for the day and taking it off at night. I knew I had to talk to Trip about this. Drew and Thumper gave me the courage to accept what I was feeling. So I screwed up my courage and I told Trip about it… by text. I typed 8 words and stared at them with my thumb hovering over the send button: “I want you to lock my dick up”. I hesitated for what seemed like hours before I hit send. His response was almost immediate. “I can do that”, he said. I melted. I think I may have cried. He knew I’ve been fascinated with chastity for some time, he knows I like metal things on and in my body (piercings, plugs, cockrings) and it turns out he too was worried that our relationship was stagnant. “I want you to be happy”, he said (well, texted). That night, for the first time, I prepared to wear my cage for Trip and to reclaim my kink. I dug out my chaps, which were a bit tight as I was approaching peak “dad bod” by that time, had a bourbon or three, and waited on the couch for him with my cage on display.
I kissed him that night, hard. I kissed him like we haven’t kissed in years. “Do you want to touch it?” I asked. He did, and then we talked. We talked like we hadn’t in years. I confessed my wants, my fears, my need to be sexual with him, and my desire that if we couldn’t have the relationship that we had before, I wanted to create a relationship that could work, and if that involved me being the submissive partner, I wanted it. He had many questions. Neither of us knew exactly how it would work. I showed him Thumper’s blog and we agreed to try this for 1 month. At the end of the month, I asked him if he liked me locked. He said he liked it because I liked it. We continued another few months. I asked the same question. He said he liked what it did to me. Months after that, he said that he liked it, in fact, he preferred me locked.
I have already mentioned that Trip is, by nature, a bottom. He is really rather submissive. Getting Trip to take control has not been easy. In fact, I have had to put my dominant skills to work to cajole, goad, and push him. He does things, at first, to please me (as he always has), but with positive feedback, I think he comes to enjoy it. At least, that how it seems. I still have to initiate most things, though. One evening, I stood before him in full gear and he had my hands restrained behind my back. I had set out several items he might want to use, one of them being a collar (he has never collared me or seen me collared to that point). I suggested that the collar might be appropriate. ‘Hmmm”, he said, and reached over, grabbed the thick leather collar I had left out, and put it on me. That got me going, and he noticed. I made sure he knew how turned on I was by it. The next time, the collar was already out for me. And the next time, he grabbed me by the collar and pulled my lips to his. Same with the paddle, the plugs, the tit clamps, etc. I have to initiate it, I have to let him see how much it turns me on, and that seems to turn him on and it builds from there. It’s a cycle of me pushing, and then responding to his actions in a way that he knows how happy it makes me until he initiates it without me. I’m okay with that, as Trip will never be a demanding Top on his own, and I am willing to work with what I’ve got, because I love him.
To me, that shiny metal between my legs is more than a cage. It’s a symbol of my kink that is there everyday to remind me of who I am. I love the look and feel of my metal encased dick. It turns me on. Also, it’s my re-connection to Trip. I cannot have an orgasm without him. When I do have an orgasm, it is special. I used to jerk off alone 3 times a day just to feel better. Now, my orgasms are gifts from Trip, when he lets me have one (and they are getting fewer and farther between because he knows I am turned on by denial). He owns my cock, and he is becoming more and more comfortable with that. Trip is now the center of my sexual world again and my right hand has gone into retirement. And when Trip surprises me, like when he bought me a heavy steel collar, I literally fall in love with him even more. Chastity is like my marriage: usually wonderful, occasionally annoying, and something I don’t want to be without.
As I sit here at the computer writing this, my dick is in a cage, there is a heavy steel collar around my neck, a very large plug in my ass, I’m wearing leather, and my husband is sitting on the couch watching TV as if all this is completely normal, because, well, I guess it is.
I’m hoping this will serve as an introduction to new readers and that some might follow my new blog