When orgasms are not the best part of sex

I suspect that most of my readers are men who are interested in “enforced” male chastity and orgasm denial and/or control. The more mature readers, that is, the  fanatics  aficionados of orgasm denial have often been pleasantly surprised to discover that when they take their own orgasm out of the sexual play, that they learn to become more appreciative of the sensual side of their play. Indeed, chastity and OD web boards are rife with men waxing poetic about their love and appreciation for their partner, and how they no longer focus on their own climax.  In fact, forum and blog posts of that nature are so common that it’s rapidly becoming a sexual trope.

That’s why I think that some of you may be interested in reading about this from the perspective of somebody who is about as far from being a mature man as you can get.

In her post “Orgasms aren’t my favorite part of sex,” well-known kink educatress Clarisse Thorn writes:

[It may help some people] not to prioritize orgasms. I am not saying orgasms aren’t important; I just don’t want the importance of orgasms to wound you, the way it wounded me. For me, it is helpful to imagine sex as a journey. For me, it helps to focus on having fun throughout, instead of doing what it takes to reach the “goal” of orgasm. If you’re not taking pleasure in the journey — or at least indulging some curiosity — then why keep going? Why not stop and try something else?

Experimenting sexually in an open-ended way has been, for me, the most productive possible attitude. And in fact, once I knew how to make myself come, I discovered that — though it’s helpful to be able to attain that release if I really want to — orgasms aren’t actually my favorite part of sex! There are lots of other things I like better.

It’s also worth noting that our definitions of “orgasm” are fairly narrow. Some research indicates that there may be other ways to conceptualize orgasms than the stereotypical genital-focused approach.

And as that weren’t enough food for thought, she goes on to mention:

It may be ironic that I spent so much time feeling terrible and broken and depressed because I couldn’t figure out how to have orgasms … whereas now I prefer not to focus on them. In fact, I estimate that most of my current sexual encounters don’t include my orgasm, and very few of my most pleasurable sexual encounters have included my orgasm.

[...]

And …. (Oh no, I can already tell this is going to get complicated … but hey, sex is complicated, so I’ll give it a shot.) …. Especially when I’m doing BDSM, it can actually be hot sometimes if I don’t have an orgasm. For example: if I go to sleep so turned on that I can’t dream about anything but my partner, and then I wake up in a damp mess, and then my partner makes my life difficult all morning, it’s pretty awesome. (Although it’s very nice that I know how to give myself orgasms now, because that means that if I’m really feeling overwhelmed by my own sexual energy, I know how to give myself release if I have to. You know, like … if I need to get some work done.)

Clarisse Thorn is one of the most insightful kink bloggers I know. If you find yourself becoming a bit bored with the usual web board and sex blogging fare, then I urge you to add Clarisse to your regular reading.

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And for those of you following American football, here’s a picture of Madonna to get you into the mood for her performance at the half-time show in the upcoming Superbowl.

Ruin ALL the things!

So, Mrs. Edge has discovered ruined orgasms.

Not hers, of course.

She’s long been aware of the idea that some of my orgasms aren’t actually pleasurable, and over the years has, at times, been quite taken with the notion that she has some power over that. Generally this has taken the form of getting me aroused enough (usually after several weeks) to ejaculate while I’m still locked into my chastity device, but she has occasionally experimented with “forcing” me to release by using a vibrator on the device, or sometimes pressing the Hitachi directly on me. Both situations give me a sensation of slightly reduced arousal, which paradoxically seems to make me even more aroused the next day. I suspect that this is because after several weeks of arousal, my body is expecting to have an actual, mind-blowing orgasm; but when my brain checks in the next day, it sees that the tubes haven’t been properly cleaned. Or something.

Anyway, we haven’t been doing the chastity thing much this year, and since we have both been in pretty stressful job positions lately, our intimate life has suffered a bit. So, a few months ago I was suggesting some ways to spice things up a little, and among some of the ideas I floated were ruined orgasms when I’m not locked up. She didn’t explore the issue, and we went on to discuss other things; I figured she had forgotten about it. Until December, that is.

One night, we were laying in bed reading (we usually sleep nude), and she reached over and began stroking me. This is always a welcome surprise, so I asked her to use some lube or cream, and if she would consider finishing me that way. She grabbed a bottle of hand lotion and continued to stroke and tease me, until I was writhing on the bed and lightly (very lightly — damn kids around) moaning. As soon as I was ready to come, my hips lifted off the bed in expectation, and and she stopped stroking as I felt her grip tighten firmly around my shaft. My hips bucked a few times, and my moans turned into a groan of surprised frustration. And then it was over.

Ruin ALL the orgasms!

“You’re frowning,” she said, looking at my face. Yeah, no kidding, I thought. She went to get a towel, and when she came back she said “I don’t think that I did it right. You’ve got come on you.” Yes, some had leaked out after she let go, which is to be expected. I cleaned up, thanked her, and we drifted off to sleep with murmurs of needing more practice. The next morning I was quite hard, and woke her up for a little action. Despite being aroused, I didn’t feel the need to come, so I left her to go back to sleep for a few hours.

A couple of weeks later, we were in the same situation; she was stroking me, and I asked her if she wanted to practice a little more. She thought it was a good idea, so we grabbed some lube, and within a few minutes she had me very aroused. While she stroked me, I tried to explain that instead of just wrapping her fingers around me, that she might have better control pressing her thumb along the underside, closer to the base of my shaft. Knowing that the urethra passes closer to that area, it seemed like a good idea at the time.

Mrs. Edge knows what I like, and after a little while I had to stop talking. Well, it was more like she had gotten me to the point where I was just babbling, anyway. And once again, just as I arched my hips I felt her squeeze, and her thumb bore down HARD. I felt my hands scrabbling at the sheets as my PC muscles tried to contract. I let out a small groan of frustration, and a few moments later it was all over. When she finally relaxed her grip, just a few drops leaked out.

“How was that?” she asked me. I had a hard time answering, in part because I was in some odd state of mind. The immediate need to come was gone, but nothing felt right; as far as my body was concerned, it wasn’t over over. On her part, she was again a bit disappointed to have allowed a few drops to leak out, and I had to assure her that with everything that goes through the plumbing, a few drops was perfectly normal.

We’ve now been practicing a bit more often; I’ve been agreeing to refrain from orgasm during intercourse so she can practice on me right afterward. And like so many things with regard to sex, this is something that sounds so freaking hot when you’re aroused, but then seems like a really stupid idea when it comes to actually doing it. I mean, I don’t  know about you, but I like orgasms. I love the explosive release, and the warm satisfaction immediately afterward. What the hell is the idea of leading all the way up to that, and stopping just short?

Goddam brain is paying tricks on me.

When I can step outside of myself to watch, though, I enjoy seeing Mrs. Edge move from a more passive form of ruined orgasms (that is, the involuntary releases that I’ve had) to a more active role. Her intentional ruining is, to me, exciting to think about (at least, beforehand), and she, herself gets excited about “practicing” (as she calls it). I know that she enjoys feeling me orgasm completely when I’m inside her, but this new-found hobby is also giving her a nice thrill, and allows her to gently explore her feelings about control. So, as long as she’s willing, how could I possibly pass that up?

Frequency Asked Question

So, I’m skimming my blogroll, and I see an interesting post over on Kink in Exile in which she asks:

I’m reading some of the blogs linked off Keyheld, “an aggregate for blogs in which male chastity and orgasm denial are the main focus.”  It seems like a lot of these male bloggers are married, many with families, most with otherwise uncomplicated-by-the-risque lives.  My question is, how does orgasm control get into such unexpected and otherwise normal-seeming unions?

Having been immersed in the chastity culture for so long, it’s sometimes surprising for me to hear other kinksters ask about it. Even more surprising is that KiE puts the cart before the horse in her assumption:

I’m curious if these guys (and gals) filtered for “kinky” in partner selection and if not, how they managed to find a match in what I’d expect to be a niche field.

So to help her out, I think it would be great to see comments (either here or over there), especially from some of more vanilla-ish guys as to how they settled on chastity or orgasm control as a personal kink. Naturally, anyone too shy to leave a comment is welcome to email me and I can post it anonymously if you’d like.

Kink in Exile is a great blog, by the way, especially for those of you who prefer intelligent insight with your kinkiness.

And just for some motivation, I’m posting a picture of a completely stereotypical fantasy.

Two Experiments

Those of you familiar with the happenings of the northeastern US probably know that we had an unseasonal Nor’easter – a storm that dumped a foot or more of snow around southern New England, and knocked out power in 2/3 of Connecticut for days – in some cases, for over a week. The Edge household was without power, phone, or even cell service for most of that time, which led to a case of cabin fever. Naturally, when we got power back, we tackled the important things: making sure the internet connection was back up and running. Oh yeah, and something about the furnace and hot water might have figured in there, too.

Anyway, having developed a Tumblr addiction, it was nice to see what had been being reposted in the kinky sectors. I spent a few  hours  couple of minutes browsing around and found this captioned picture on the Locked in Chastity Tumblog. I was struck by the rather profound insight that often gets overlooked when one reads chastity related fiction, or indeed, even the chastity related blogs that spring up. Most of the time we’re hearing about how the denial affects the man who asks to be denied, but we rarely hear about how it affects his partner.

Let me qualify that. We often hear about how the Missus loves it because she gets backrubs, pedicures, and the the laundry done. Yeah, no duh; I mean, I’d love to get daily massages, myself, and if somebody would wash and iron my socks every week then that would be one less thing for me to worry about.

But I’m talking about the more intimate and emotional aspects of chastity and denial. I’d venture that most married people are having a pretty decent (fsv of)  amount of sex every week, so men who ask to play out some kind of long-term chastity fantasy are also denying their partners something to some degree. Is PIV sex important to all women? Of course not, but at the same time it’s presumptuous for men to simply assume that they can replace intercourse with oral sex and backrubs – which seems to be the (ahem) dominant theme behind much of the “enforced” chastity paradigm (Paradigm? Did I really use that word outside of a graduate class?).

Some years ago when Mrs. Edge and I started messing with chastity and denial, we would go week to week. That is, she kept me locked up for a week, would let me out for some intercourse (no orgasm for me, of course), and then lock me back up. And that’s how it went for some time, until we got the strapon harness and a really lifelike dildo. We tried it out a few times, but at the end of the week, she unlocked me. And again, the next week. And the next.

But there came a time when she skipped the weekly unlocking, and asked me to use the new toy, instead. I ended up being locked up for two straight weeks. And the next time it was three weeks. And the next time it was a month. And then it was six or seven weeks.

While this was happening, I suspected that she was testing the waters, but was hesitant to ask her directly because I didn’t want to spoil the mood. Our agreement was that she could play as long as she wanted, and if I were uncomfortable, I would mention it to her. But that was okay, because I was experimenting myself — for a while I was looking forward to the weekly unlocking, even though I wasn’t coming. How well would I handle going without even that little bit of pleasure for longer periods? Would I eventually get jealous of the silicone? Would I give in and beg?

When it hit seven weeks without allowing me out, I finally asked her what she had in mind. “I’m just experimenting,” she told me.  She enjoys — actually, prefers — intercourse to oral, so she wondered how long she could “make do” with the dildo, which we began to call “her” cock. She, herself, had been enjoying the weekly unlockings, but after seeing how lifelike the new toy was, and how well I could position it, it began to seem less challenging to her. After going for a two or three weeks, she realized something else: I didn’t have to pace myself for her pleasure the way I had to do when she unlocked me. If she wanted something a little more vigorous, or to extend it a bit longer, she could do so without my asking to take a breather.  She found the idea that she could replace my cock with “her” own to be an unexpected turn on.

By the time that she made me go for a month straight, she began to feel comfortable with using it frequently, and comfortable that I wasn’t being somehow damaged, anxious, or upset. By that point, it didn’t feel so much as a second-best replacement; the couple of extra minutes for me to put on the harness and adjust “her” cock was now simply a natural part of our lovemaking.

Once she stopped worrying about how I was holding up, she found that she wanted to try something else: she wanted to go for longer periods simply to see if I would get frustrated enough to quit. Not in a cruel or mean way, rather that she was discovering her own limits, and in so doing, wondered where my limits (or lack of them) might be. Eventually, she wondered if she would feel comfortable enough not unlocking me at all, and indeed, she even began leaving her key at work so she wouldn’t be tempted to use it. After several years of this, she stopped experimenting with limits, and we simply played for random time periods, always set by her.

So, again,  I just want to take a moment to point out to the men who are interested in “enforced” chastity (or really, any other similar activity), that your partner needs time to experiment, to find her own limits of comfort — both with the relationship and with herself. Try to take s step back from your own excitement to give her what she needs.

Lotus Eating

Yeah, I know it’s been a while since I’ve updated.

[Insert typical blogger excuse about buying too busy here.]

As it happens, Mrs. Edge and I have been taking a chastity break for the summer. A few minor injuries have kept me from hitting the weights for a while, but I’ve gotten a little more seriously into bicycling. I spent much of my summer modernizing an old aluminum frame touring bike, so between that and my old hybrid mongrel I’ve been racking up the miles. I’m pretty sure that the combination of the cycling plus some low carb eating has finally allowed me to break through that weight loss plateau where I’d been stuck for the last year. I’m now well into the next smaller waist size, and all of my suits and dress pants will quite literally fall off of me if I don’t cinch up my belt – which looks stupid, so now I need some new clothes. Even my shirts are too roomy, and I’m fitting into sport jackets that I haven’t worn in years. And jeans? I can wear a size 34 without creating a muffin top. I’m still too embarrassed to get some of those tight spandex biking shorts, but I have been wearing those snug tank tops when I go out. I’ve been remiss at supplying HNT pics, so here’s one that I just ook today.

A side note: my friends are very obviously envious, but not enough to actually do anything about it.

Anyway, the point that I was going to make was that even though over the years I’ve declared that you can cycle with a device, I’ve discovered that there are some limits. My mongrel bike has a split saddle which can accommodate the CB3000, but the road bike requires a more aggressive, hunched-over posture, and I have not found a comfortable saddle. The split ones tend to put you in a more upright position, but nothing is going to make that hard cuff ring comfortable on a road saddle. And since I’ve already spent enough money on replacement parts, I’ll have to wait until next year before I look at other saddle options. So, until bike season is done, my equipment is swinging free.

Let’s see, what else has kept me busy this summer? We’ve had a few family trips, most of them in places with no internet. I managed to survive with limited 3G access, and a Nook Color (birthday present). I’ve built up a couple of computers with Linux Mint, and I’m now experimenting with making a bootable SD card to turn my Nook into an Android pad. Went to a comic/anime convention — in costume. And yes, it was a kick-ass costume, and I got quite a few comments, and won a few rounds of a cosplay deathmatch. My daughter’s friends are now in awe of me as being the coolest dad ever. Oh, and I’ve been doing a lot of reading.

No, not ebooks. I’ve been reading blogs and forums, some of the older ones, and some newer ones, and I’m pleased to see that the discussions about the open-mindedness of the BDSM crowd, the nature of femdom, and the devaluation of “submissiveness” are still going on. In fact, I’ve been quite surprised – pleasantly – at the range of ideas that I’ve seen over the last few months. I think that this is important; BDSM is — in some ways — in a similar position to that of homosexuality 30 or 40 years ago. People acknowledged it existed, but it was something not really discussed in polite company, unless to make some kind of joke or disparaging comment. This is why I find it so ironic (and frankly, not a little disturbing) that within the kink community, “submissive” is perceived as a feminine trait.

Anyway.

As I’ve been watching the web boards and reading the stories of self-identified submissive men who have felt belittled or who have been dissed by their local kink community, I was reminded of something from when I was younger, back when I knew that I was kinky, but before I had learned much about it.

I was about 20, was with my girlfriend and a group of other friends from college (we were probably a little buzzed, as was the custom at the time) and wanted to see a funny movie. We ended up at Revenge of the Pink Panther; this was in the days when if you wanted to see a movie, then you actually had to go to them. I don’t remember all that much about the movie itself, until we got to the last few minutes of the film.

Tanya, the Lotus Eater
(Sorry, WordPress isn’t allowing me to embed this video. )

For those who can’t watch this, here’s the setup: Inspector Clouseau has been away for some time, and Kato has turned his apartment into a brothel. Clouseau shows up wearing the remnants of some kind of disguise, and the Madame, not knowing that he owns the apartment, welcomes him in. She explains that he can take some time to get to know the girls, and to let her know if he has any particular requests. She removes his overcoat, and sees that he’s wearing a woman’s dress.

“Ah, but I see that you already have a preference,” she says.  She rings a gong, and says “Allow me to introduce Tanya, the Lotus Eater.” Tanya, played by bit-part actress Valerie Leon, enters in a low-cut, leather catsuit. Hilarity ensues.

That’s what I remember about the movie. What I also remember is wondering why transvestism was coupled with S&M; to me, they were completely separate kinks. And after that, I began to notice how often S&M – specifically, the submissive  male part – was linked to feminine traits. That was 30 years ago, and frankly, I haven’t seen things improve much over the years. So, when we’re all wondering why the BDSM “community” has this weird concept about submissive guys, I suspect that it’s because for an entire generation we’ve never seen anyone acting any differently.

Chastity Aficionado

A few months ago I mentioned Angela Lewis, a researcher who had just published a book called My Other Self, which was a look at the very normal real lives of some people with unusual sex lives. Ms. Lewis, while not a kinkster, herself, has done a great job with demystifying (and some might say he-terrifying) the conceptions that many non-kinksters have of people who are into non-vanilla sex.

Ms. Lewis, in following up with her book and the several articles that she has written for an Australian professional journal, has been interviewing various kinksters in a”10 Questions” format. To her credit, she avoids the prurient (i.e., giggle-inducing) questions and asks the kind of things that anyone might be interested in asking someone whom they’ve just met. Here’s a nice session with prodomme Mistress Mynx, here’s one with another pro-domme Mistress Michelle, here’s an interesting chat with fetish model Arinda Storm Weaver, and here’s an exceptionally interesting interview with somebody named Tom Allen, a non-pro chastity enthusiast.

Angela had contacted me near the end of April, and had not hipped to the prank post that was up all month, so some of her initial questions were about what made Mrs. Edge and I give up the “enforced” chastity. After explaining the situation, she rewrote some of the questions, and just published them today. Here’s a sampling:

10 Questions With Tom, a Chastity Aficionado

Q: For readers who may not be familiar with male chastity and orgasm denial, can  you give us the quick overview of what it entails?

I think just about everybody is familiar with the concept of “teasing,” in which a woman offers the promise of sexual favors, but prolongs the actual act.  We just take that a little bit further; instead of expecting satisfaction (i.e., an orgasm) later that day, or even later that week, our satisfaction is delayed weeks, or sometimes even months. While this could be done on the honor system, many of us prefer to utilize some of the devices on the market that are made for preventing temptation.

Really, all chastity play is essentially role-playing. No device is 100% inescapable, and most can be removed with some decent tools and a little finesse. However, since they can be very difficult to defeat without breaking the device, it feeds into the power exchange fantasy some of us have of losing or giving up control. This may be the biggest appeal to chastity aficionados because the *idea* of giving up control, not just for an hour, but essentially forever, can be a very hot fantasy. For men who are accustomed to having a quick wank nearly every day, losing that option is losing control at a very basic, primal level. It’s like bondage, but played out over weeks or months, instead of over an evening.

Paradoxically, non-BDSM couples that have played with “enforced” chastity often report that they end up having *more* sexual intimacy. Partly that’s because the exchange of power can revitalize their relationship, but also because they begin to see that sexual intimacy is much more than penetration. Men often learn to sublimate their own sexual desire into doing things for (or with) their partners that enhance physical closeness. Women, feeling less pressured to have sex all the time, begin to feel more relaxed, knowing that they are in control of the situation.

Obviously this is a generalization, but these factors add to the appeal, and give some motivation to those who continue to play once they get the hang of it.

 

Q: How did Mrs.Edge feel about exploring male chastity  and orgasm denial when the topic first came up?

Surprisingly, she was okay with it. We played a few times, but she didn’t really become interested until the CB3000 came out, sometime around 2003. To her, the organic shape was much more sexy — and comfortable — than the cage-style devices.

We hit a point in our marriage where things were a bit rocky, and in the course of trying to get back on track, we had a few discussions about our sexual relations. She confessed that she used to find the idea of locking me up to be quite a turn on, but she didn’t care for the shape of the cage, or the hard angles of the metal bars. When I showed her pictures of the CB3000, her first words were “You have got to get one of these.”

I say “surprisingly” because Mrs. Edge isn’t crazy about BDSM or fetish gear, and in fact, we own very few sex toys. But instead of perceiving the chastity device as a piece of bondage equipment (which would put her in a “Cruel Mistress” position, something she didn’t want), she saw it as a way to have control over the lust of her sexually charged husband.

Yes, it’s kind of the same thing, but in *her* mind, that is the role that “works” for her.

 

Q: Is the chastity device integral to your enjoyment of orgasm denial, or is it possible to also  enjoy the practice if not wearing the device?

For us, yes. Both Mrs. Edge and I enjoy the idea that she has all of the control. The device serves to reinforce the idea. While she could simply just tell me not to touch myself when she’s not around, or tie a yellow ribbon around me as a symbol, it doesn’t carry the same weight as an actual, lockable device.

There is a schism in the orgasm denial community (such as it is): some people claim that all that should be necessary is for one’s partner to request “no touching, while others maintain that the equipment is part of what makes it hot. Mrs. Edge and I find that wearing the device makes the lack of control more “real”. This also extends to why we do not use a schedule or a point system to determine when I’ll be allowed an orgasm — as far as she’s concerned, such factors take control out of her hands. But in the end, it all depends upon the relationship that you have.

 

Q: You are now in your fifties, and you wrote on your blog recently on your perception of ageism.  What do you think is the peak decade for a man in terms of knowing himself and living as his true self?

Over the last few years, I’ve noticed that the people who are the *most* concerned about getting older are the people my own age. I suppose I have a younger mindset because I spend so much time interacting on forums and websites where one’s age isn’t nearly as important. But I’m becoming very disenchanted with my friends who seem to be turning into zombies. I can’t go a week without seeing some stupid “Remember when…?” email chain letter, or some hackneyed glurge about getting older. I just don’t understand what makes people get stuck in time like that.

I liken it to people who emigrate to a different country. Some of them move to a neighborhood where everybody from the old country settled; they go to the old-country stores, the restaurants, and don’t bother to learn the new language. Essentially, they haven’t moved. Yet, other people take steps to learn the language, and to try the new things that their new host country has to offer.

Time moves on, so in that respect, we are all moving to a new country. But why should we insulate ourselves in the ghettoes, when there is so much out there to see?

Instead of having me copy and paste everything, why not click on over to My Other Self and read the rest? And while you’re there, click around on the rest of her site; maybe it will encourage her — and others — to help make kink a little more mainstream friendly.

Adult Entertainment

The hoi-polloi among us who work mere day jobs and don’t mingle with the glitterati may have missed the big AVN Adult Entertainment Expo last week, but never fear: your intrepid researchers at EoV Laboratories have been keeping up to date.

Our recap of the events: People still enjoy porn.

Frankly, this might have flown completely under my radar, if it hadn’t been for the various Gawker (and other) media blogs making titillating references to the recently discovered — Oh mai gawd! – Male Chastity Devices. Recently discovered? Well, yes, by the apparently very vanilla media crowd, most of whom still seem to be completely clueless as to what people get out of any sexuality that’s the teensiest bit kinky.

In no particular order, here are some of the article quotes and comments:

Men beware, the male chastity belt is back and women all over the world are placing their man’s manhood under lock and key. This is the type of product Tiger Wood’s wife dreams she’d bought.

[AL Enterprises] apparently sells tens of thousands of the belts a year (who da thunk?). The two biggest markets are not surprisingly Germany and the United Kingdom, which makes sense because those guys are freaky. The USA comes in third.

Aww, it’s adorable when vanilla folks start clicking around the internet.

The plastic male chastity belts are generally “starter” belts. After a couple has used one of those belts for a while they tend to upgrade to a more secure metal one.

isnt the penis always locked to the scrotum? i need an anatomy book.

How does it stay on? Does it have to be bolted to the person?

The less well-known blogs that had follow-up articles were even more juvenile and inane. More to the point, most of the comments riffed on the idea of a chastity device not as a sex toy, but as an article of punishment or even revenge.

On one hand, I guess I should be glad to see more mainstream exposure; there has probably been more mention of these devices in the last couple of years than in the previous ten combined. On the other hand, I still find myself becoming irritated whenever I see the responses that most people have to something that’s outside of their experience. “Eww, WTF is that!? LOLwhut?”

That said, kudos to the Millers for investing the time, money, and energy in displaying their wares at the AEE. How long before they start showing up in regular porn flicks, I wonder?

When life imitates (bad) art

Well, this is embarrassing.

There hasn’t been much chastity play at the Edge household lately; in fact, not for maybe a good six months. This is mainly due to a lot of job and family stress: The Elm City Consumer Products Company closed the branch at which Mrs. Edge has been working for over 20 years, and moved the employees to different branches around the state. Her old office was less than 15 minutes away, so naturally she got moved to the one that’s halfway across the state, over 45 minutes away. She lost a lot of support staff, too, and now she’s working the same kind of long, intense hours that I do. By the time we get home, make dinner, clean up, and get things ready for the next day, neither of us is feeling especially playful, so it’s no wonder that the devices have languished in a drawer.

Yeah, I can already hear some of you wankers saying things like “But if you’re not having sex anyway, that would be the perfect time to lock you up.” No, you bozos, it’s not. In fact, take if from somebody who has been there: chastity play without any interest from your partner might be a hot fantasy for, oh, a week or two. But trust me, after a while, it begins to feel more like neglect, and that is not a sexy feeling at all. It’s play that should enhance your intimacy; if you’re not intimate, then it’s not play.

Anyway, it’s not unusual for us to have breaks of a few months, and I generally use that time to re-design and modify my devices. I tried to make a more “bike friendly” device by replacing the hard plastic CB3000 cage with the silicone section of my Birdlock, since that device has been sitting in my drawer since the week that the cheap locking pin broke. I made some plastic spacers from  the remnants of a 3k cuff ring, and attached it to a new hinged ring, from which I had removed the brass hinge rivet and replace it with a nylon screw. I think that the idea is worth exploring further, but I need to buy some new rings to test that out.

Some of you know that back in the spring I bought a Fort device. I haven’t reviewed it because I’ve been modifying that one a bit, as well. I’m almost done, but it’s a slow process because I need time in the machine shop at work, but we’ve been using the equipment that I need to get into. I am, however, in the process of making some solid stainless steel rings, similar to the original CB2000 style. The hinged, alloy metal rings supplied with the Fort are both too heavy, and not comfortable because of the sharp edges.

Anyway, you probably know that I’ve spent the summer doing a lot of exercising and biking. I’ve dropped about 10 pounds this summer; partly some good diet tweaks, and partly the 20 to 30 minutes of intense biking that I’ve been trying to do several times a week. Obviously the weightlifting was good for building muscle, but it took some cardio to tip the scales into losing some fat. Whatever, I’m just happy to have found something that works.

Even when I’m not wearing a device, I often wear one of the cuff rings. I switch between the old-style solid rings, and the hinged rings that I’ve modified  into solid rings by removing the rivet hinge and super-gluing the sections together. Late last week, I was wearing one of the modified rings, and had gone out for about 10 miles on the bike. The air was turning a bit chilly, and I could feel my testicles retracting. Suddenly… “Oww, dammit!” One of them had pulled through entirely. Fortunately, I was not in a heavily trafficked area, so I just reached down to twist it into a more comfortable position and soldiered on. Wasn’t the first time this happened.

It was getting dark as I got home — the sun is going down a bit earlier now — and I pulled the bike into the garage, and read the numbers from  my trip computer. Yeah, even though I got a new Android phone and I could be using the cool GPS apps to record my speed and route,  it’s not really any more accurate than what I’m doing now. I texted the numbers to my exercise account, and walked to the door, when I felt something roll down my leg. I looked down and heard the “teenk… tonk” sound, which told me that not only had the cuff ring come completely off, but that it had cracked on impact. It rolled under the workbench, and after I retrieved it and cleaned off the old cobwebs, sawdust, and dirt (look, there are two kinds  of garages: ones like on TV, and ones in which the owners actually do some work.), and sure enough, the ring had cracked right where I had modified it. Damn.

I had a couple of spare cuff rings that I hadn’t modified, so I brought one of them into work the next day, along with my favorite CB3000, and the assorted spacers, KSD-G3, etc. It being Friday, everybody at work left early for the 3 day holiday weekend (Labor Day here in the US). This gave me a chance to sand and polish the sharp edges of the ring, and do a few dry fits with the 3k. After an hour or so, I wanted to make sure I hadn’t missed any sharp edges, so I  popped up into my office to put it on. I applied a little lotion, assembled the KSD, the spacer, the pins, and locked it on with the Masterlock that I reserve for testing.

A perfect fit!

This isn’t surprising; I probably do two of these a year, since we’re a bit hard on the  Beaver chastity cages around here. No, the surprising thing was when when I went for the key, I discovered that it was not on my keyring.

What the hell?

Oh, right. I remembered that I removed a bunch of keys when we went to the in-law’s this summer. So, I was stuck until I could get home; no big deal.

After I got home, and still having some daylight, I changed into my bike shorts and headed out for a ride. When I got back, I cooked dinner (some seasoned rib-eye steaks on the grill, and some steamed fresh broccoli heads).  Mrs. Edge and I cleaned up the kitchen, then she went downstairs to watch TV, and I started rummaging around on my dresser. I found the ring of odd keys that I had removed: my shed key, a key to a filing cabinet at work, one for a bike lock, and the small, steel padlock key. I went into the bathroom to use it.

It didn’t fit!

I went through the keys again. Nope, too big. Nope, definitely the shed key. Nope, the file cabinet. It’s gotta be this one. This time it went in, but it felt raspy and it wouldn’t turn.

Dammit!

Now, if this were a typical piece of wank fiction, this would be about the point where Mrs. Edge comes upstairs to find me fiddling with the lock, only to tell me that she’s been unhappy with the way I  haven’t been doing the washing up lately, and that she purposely hid (or destroyed) the test lock key, knowing that I’d be using it sooner or later. I would meekly succumb to her chastisement (in the correct form of the term), and end the story with something like “And I have no idea when it’s going to come off, if ever.”

Well, this isn’t a story. In real life, I went back through the box of spacers, modified devices, rings, pins, etc., and there, at the very bottom of the box I found it.

No, not the key.That would be too easy.

I found the test lock.

Whenever Mrs. Edge unlocks me, her routine is to keep the lock with her key, which is on a special holder.  Since I covered all the locks with black plastic tubing in order to keep them from clack-clacking against the cage, I didn’t notice that it was not the same as the one I normally use, the one I have my own key for.  So, what was this lock?

Suddenly, I remembered. It was the second lock that we had bought for when she had to go to Bangalore last year. It had never been used, but we prepared it in case I had to remove the original lock; it was supposed to have been a backup. Apparently I had just tossed it into the box with the other bits of equipment.

Damn.

So, I went downstairs to to discover that the Edgelette was in the room watching TV with her;  I decided to wait until later in order to ask for her key. But after 15 minutes, she suddenly announced that she was exhausted, and was going to bed. I followed her up a few minutes later, and to my surprise, she was already asleep.

Dammit. Again.

By the time I got into bed, myself, she was completely out. I read for a bit, and then turned out the light. I woke up once or twice in the middle of the night — a few months without the cage had left me unprepared for the 4am erections — but otherwise, I slept just fine.

Saturday morning I woke up before the alarm, and quietly headed into the bathroom, figuring I would sneak in an early bike ride. Mrs. Edge woke up and asked me to re-join her in bed. We snuggled for a bit, and she discovered the cage. As I explained the situation, she became a bit more frisky.

“I think you need to give me a little,” she said.

“Ummm…” I began.

“With your other cock,” she finished. “Hurry up, go put it on.”

It was in a zippered case under the bed. I fumbled a bit with the harness, since we hadn’t used it in quite a while, and it took me a few minutes to get it seated properly. But soon I was on top of her, slowly thrusting, and listening to her moans.

“How long have you been locked now?”

“Since yesterday afternoon,” I told her.

“With no key?”

I shook my head. “I have no idea where your keys are.”

She pushed her hips into mine, and bit my shoulder to quiet her orgasm. I slowed down to let her catch her breath. She looked up at me.

“Are you horny yet?” she asked.

I nodded. “Yes,” I panted, “Can’t you tell?”

She reached down to feel the cage; my erection was pulling it away from my body, and my trapped testicles were swollen.

“Ooohhh,” she moaned, “that’s just how I like them.” She lay back and wrapped her legs around mine, pulling me closer.

“Not having a key is kind of hot, sort of,” I whispered into her ear.

She closed her eyes and relaxed into another orgasm.

“I think I’m almost done,” she whispered. “Don’t want to overdo it, or I’ll be too tired for the rest of the day.”

I raised myself from my elbows to a pushup position. Her hands explored my back and shoulders while I maintained a slow, steady thrusting. She opened her eyes again.

“What if I can’t find the key?” she asked. “What if I lost the keychain? Or what if I don’t feel like letting you out?”

“What if ?” I replied.

“You might have to stay in there for a while…” she began. Her eyes closed again, and she leaned her head back into the pillow. She pulled me closer, but I maintained the same slow, steady pace. I could tell she was working for this orgasm, but before long her fingernails dug into my back. She let out a big sigh, and placed a hand on my chest, indicating that I could stop.

We disengaged, and she turned onto her side. Quickly, I removed the harness and snuggled up behind her. She reached around to fondle the cage again. I nuzzled her neck for a few minutes, until finally we had to get up.I made her some coffee and went out for a bike ride… a very long bike ride, since I had a lot of energy to work off.

That was a week ago.

Since then, Mrs. Edge doesn’t seem to have been too worried about looking for that key, or at least, she hasn’t mentioned anything about it. I haven’t asked her for it, but she did ask me offhandedly if the new ring was comfortable. Fortunately, it is.

Because, you know…

I have no idea when it’s going to come off, if ever.

Chastity Device Reviews: The CCS&S Scale

You may have noticed that I don’t have banner ads from various adult toy sites. Not that I don’t get asked; about once a month somebody contacts me to ask if I’d be interested, but frankly, I can’t be bothered. I mean, I know it’s the cool thing to use your personal blog to help augment your personal income stream, but I’ve already got enough to worry about without having to think about maintaining a business that might pay me, oh, 42 cents a week, or 16 ounces of guacamole flavored lube.

Seriously, I turn down a lot of offers from adult toy companies because Mrs. Edge and I don’t really use toys, so the arrangement to have them send me something once a month in exchange for me to review it on The Edge of Vanilla is probably pointless, as most items would sit in the drawer for weeks, if not months. Mrs. Edge doesn’t really care for vibrators — not the rabbits, not the duckies, not the jellies, nor even the ones that you hide in your purse. Last year I bought her an Hitachi Magic Wand, and we’ve hardly even use that. And she’s *very* particular about dildoes; we’ve tried a few, and have essentially settled on one that we use in a strap-on harness when I’m wearing my chastity device. Mrs. Edge is one of those “meat & potatoes” types when it comes to sex, so except for our investment on various devices, our toy drawer is pretty meager.

But there are dozens, no, hundreds of bloggers who do engage in some kind of toy review arrangement, which is a good thing because there’s really no Consumer Reports for sex toys. This is probably just as well; reviews of typical consumer goods like tires, toaster ovens, and table saws can generally be determined by some basic criteria. Is it well built? Will it last a long time before breaking down? Will the replacement parts be costly? (Some of you are probably thinking that those kinds of questions might well apply to choosing your next partner.) But adult toys are more, um, subjective in use. All toasters will toast bread eventually, but not everyone is going to appreciate  the particular vibration rate or battery life of the same vibrator.

But clearly, before you buy an adult toy, you want as much information as possible. Since there really isn’t any CR for chastity devices, the Edge of Vanilla Labs has been working tirelessly to develop a more objective scale to use. In the past when I’ve mentioned chastity devices, I’ve generally focused on three essential qualities: Comfort, Convenience, and Security. To this scale I’m adding a slightly more subjective criteria: Sexiness.

Comfort is an essential quality: if a device is constantly scraping, chaffing, rubbing, or otherwise damaging your tender bits so much that you need to keep removing it, then clearly that device is not working for you, and you’re not going to wear it. Yes, some time for adaptation is normal, but having to deal with edema or rashes is not. For example, this is why the Birdlock (and presumably, the new Bon4 device) rates pretty well for comfort — the squishy silicone means that you shouldn’t need to worry about hard edges rubbing against your skin. Similarly, some of the stainless steel devices have smooth rings and edges (more comfort against your skin), but are sometimes offset by sharp edges on the locking mechanisms.

Convenience is an often overlooked criteria when some people discuss their devices, but it really is just as important as comfort, for many of the same reasons. Convenience concerns the ease with which you can keep the device clean, and engage in your normal daily activities. If your device has to be removed a couple of times a day, that’s not especially convenient for your keyholder. If you can’t clean it properly, then you can’t wear it for very long. If you can’t work or exercise while wearing it, then that’s a problem For example, one of my personal criteria is being able to use a urinal; between my work and my regular activities, I can’t always find a stall. I can, however, find a tree when I’m working outside, or on a particularly long bike ride.  This is a reason that I avoid the full belt style devices and stick with the CBxxxx line.

Fitting into the convenience category is the ability to wear a device under normal clothing. The CB2000 and the Curve left rather odd looking or simply large bulges in most dress pants, and some of the lesser-known devices depend upon locks or fasteners at odd angles. If people at work keep staring at your crotch as if they are tryign to figure out if you’re hiding something, then that’s not especially convenient.

Some  of you might be surprised that I didn’t mention Security right at the beginning. That  is because, based on everything that I’ve read in the last ten years from guys describing their own experiences, if a device is not comfortable or convenient, then they aren’t going to wear it anyway, so the security is moot. By Security, I’m referring to whether or not you can masturbate while wearing the device, and if so, how successfully. While presumably any device will prevent intercourse, many allow some (most?) men some degree of manipulation to the point of orgasm (or at least, something that allows an ejaculation of sorts). For example, the Birdlock failed here because the squishy silicone that made it so comfortable allowed me to manipulate myself enough to have a rather pleasant orgasm. The hard polycarbonate plastic of my CB3000 and CB6000 obviously prevent that, however I need to add the KSD-G3 device to keep from being able to pull out. Other people rely on using tighter cuff rings or opt to get a piercing so they can anchor the end of their penis to the cage.

Why all the trouble? Because men’s genitals are infinitely squishy and variable, and a device that is secure for one man might not be for another. And really,when you come right down to it, men who are into these devices aren’t wearing them because their partners don’t trust them (i.e., they are not for preventing random intercourse); they are wearing them because the enjoy the idea of erotic control. The more inescapable the device, the more believable their internal script when it comes to their  willing suspension of disbelief. We want something that allows us to believe more completely in our fantasies of turning over the control of our orgasms, within some limits of reason that we set for ourselves. This is why we’re willing to settle for a fairly comfortable and relatively inexpensive CB6000 instead of a less convenient and much, much more expensive Latowski. So, security is ironically not the most important thing with a chastity device, especially if the wearer properly manages his WSD.

Those three criteria may not be completely objective, since I give my own weighting to them when thinking about devices. But I think that they are reasonably applicable to most users. I’ve used these three criteria in evaluating devices ever since I began building my own about ten years ago. But it’s only recently that I began to think seriously about a more subjective criteria: How sexy, how appealing is the device? Does it make you want one, make you wish you were wearing one right now, and damn the cost? For example, the Latowski full metal design is shiny and ergonomic and the metal itself looks like it flexes with your skin. I don’t know anything else about it except that the sleek look is eye-catching and erotic — to me.

And here’s where I think some couples have some difficulty; their difference of opinion on what is “sexy” quite possibly hampers their agreement on a device. When I look at one of the Steelwerks Extreme devices, I see heavy-duty industrial coolness. Mrs. Edge, however, sees something that looks too artificial. Her take on the CB2000, the Steelwerks, and some of the other commonly available devices is that they look like things left over from the plumbing or hardware store. And frankly, we are both turned off by the Lori’s tube devices which, in my opinion, look a bit clunky.

This is one of the reasons that I keep repairing and modifying my CB3000 — we both agree that we like the looks.  We have long discovered that when we agree on something, we should buy it because mutual agreement — be it furniture, wall paint, dinner — isn’t all that common with us. Mrs. Edge likes the “organic” design, which in my opinion, is missing in a lot of the other devices. The 3k, and it’s successor the 6k, have a head shaped like a, well, a head. You can visualize a penis inside them, and their relatively low profile under clothing gives it an air of being a bit more natural than, say, some of the other devices that are more tube-shaped.

Again, though, sexiness is a subjective criteria, and I don’t expect that everybody will agree with it. Lori’s tubes have a huge following, and the CB6000 seems to be a more popular device than the older 3000 (for the record, I think that the 3k is a better built device, but that’s another article) . But as new devices are (ahem) coming into the market, I think it’s important to at least have some commonalities on which they could be rated and compared.

Consent and sensibility

Having solved the problems of world hunger, universal medical care, and corrupt politicians, it’s good to know that some people still have enough energy to tackle the really important issues of whether or not “enforced” chastity is an actuality, whether or not one needs a device, and what devices are serious enough for consideration.

At the moment, this argument discussion is taking place over on Sarah’s Male Chastity Blog, although this is really just another instance of the discussions that take place on some group or forum just about every freaking month. It’s kind of like the kudzu of the kinky internet; as soon as you think it’s gone, it pops up somewhere else.

So, let’s review a few things. As I’ve said a bazillion times, chastity devices are sex toys, plain and simple. Just like handcuffs, rope, or other restraints, they are equipment to enhance sexual, or more accurately, erotic enjoyment.  This is not a paradox; except for extremely rare circumstances, people buy chastity devices in order to engage in erotic control scenes. Yes, the scenes may play out over long periods — weeks or months — but the essence of the play is erotic control of one’s sexuality.

Yeah, yeah, I know that some of you are ready to get on a soapbox about how it has changed your relationship, given you focus, made you a better partner, blah, blah, blah. Well, I call “bullshit” on that entire concept; what you’re descibing is not the magical effect of the device anymore than Dumbo’s crow feather gave him magical flying powers (sorry, when you have kids, these kinds of analogies come to mind). Rather, I suspect that you, yourself have become more focused, a better parter, etc., because you’re enjoying the attention and you’re reciprocating in a way that fits the paradigm you’ve set for yourself (actually, since we don’t live in a social vacuum, that other people around the internet have set for you). You want to call the device a symbol of your new life? Hey, great — that’s exactly what those freaking wedding bands do. How well was that working for you?

So, does that mean that chastity devices are toys? Well, that’s a bit more complicated, so to avoid certain emotional connotations, I’m going to call them “equipment”. This makes more sense because that’s how we usually refer to other kink-oriented items; the word “toy”, while having a connotation as being something used for fun, also conveys an image of something that’s not intended for serious usage (fsv of “serious”). Hence, the snobbery of those people who sneer at anything made of plastic, who are in turn frowned on by those espousing the use of anything less than a full stainless steel Tollyboy (or whatever) belt, who are then dismissed as amateurs by those who have spent months of their salary (and months of fitting time) to own custom Latowski metal underwear.

And of course, all of the above people are dissed by the domlier/subbier than thou types who claim that nobody should even need a device, they should simply develop the willpower to do as they are told.

A pox on all of ye, I say.