Today is the 14th anniversary of the first time a chastity device was locked onto me (which means we’re also a little over a week past the fourteenth anniversary of the start of this blog).
It’s hard for me to really get my head back into the space I was in when I first felt what it was like walking around among muggles with a device in my pants, let alone what it felt like having my erection contained and constrained for the first time. But I do recall the first time Belle denied me an orgasm after she got one. It was such a rush. I felt high the whole next day. But being denied has changed so much over the years. From it making me annoying and selfish to…whatever I am now. I don’t think I’m nearly as much of either. I feel like my — ahem — head is in a better place.
I’ve said before, being kept in chastity no longer feels like a thing I do or is being done to me. It just is. It’s how I am. It only becomes a thing when I can’t be kept locked. If I have to come out for some stupid reason like travel or a doctor’s visit or one of those times the contents need to heal from something a device did to it. I was just off camping in the wilderness for a week and was in the BA-31P the whole time. Mostly because not being in it would feel weird and wrong and distracting. As if being so would be inauthentic and unnatural. Basically, “weird and distracting” went from being how it felt to be locked up to how it feels not to be. Also, Belle’s rules say I have to be locked up all the time and I have proven there’s no practical reason I can’t be even deep in the woods for a week.
Seeing the contents outside of a device has become off-putting. It looks pale and exposed. I don’t want Belle or anyone else to see me that way. It’s embarrassing. Somehow, it feels more naked than naked is. Like some inner part of me is exposed. I guess that’s what the contents literally are now. An inner part.
The milestone of being kept for 14 year has me wondering how much of that time was spent locked up. Of course, locked men tend to obsess over duration. Kinky people in general seem to over index as stats and metric obsessed folk. I don’t count the days like I used to (even between orgasms which happen so infrequently I can’t even remember them), but I still track what I’m locked in and for how long. I began using an app to track which device I was locked into back in January 2016 (actually December of 2015, but only for like two days), so a bit more than half way between the first day and today. I don’t have data for the first seven years or so. But here’s the breakdown of each year since then.
Hours Locked | Hours Unlocked | |
2016 | 6,800 (77%) | 1,984 (23%) |
2017 | 8,579 (98%) | 181 (2%) |
2018 | 7,194 (82%) | 1,566 (18%) |
2019 | 6,661 (76%) | 2,099 (24%) |
2020 | 8,371 (95%) | 413 (5%) |
2021 | 8,535 (97%) | 225 (3%) |
2022 (YTD) | 6,966 (99%) | 90 (1%) |
Total | 46,856 (88%) | 6,558 (12%) |
Two things jump out. One, 2016, 2018, and 2019 had a lot of unlocked time, relatively speaking, while the other years tracked were more in line with one another. Two, the trend for the past three years is curving towards zero. This is due to Belle wanting the contents out far less often than she used to and me being better and finding ways to avoid being out when in the past I might have thought I had to be. But, the question was how long have I been locked up over the past 14 years? I think the previous 7 would be more like 16′, 17′ and 19′, so let’s just say the average for all of them is 75-80% locked.
That’s something between 92,000 and 98,000 hours. Which means in this, my fifteenth year of enforced chastity, chances are I’ll cross the 100,000 hour mark. That’s more than eleven years.
Of course, this is meaningless. I am locked. By default and whenever I don’t have to come out due to circumstance or Belle’s (increasingly infrequent) demand. As far as I’m concerned, the number is basically ∞.
But since we’re at this moment of recognition and reflection, I can say I never want to be any other way than kept in chastity. The changes that have come over me for being so are indelible. Sure, I could not be locked up and be touching myself sexually and having regular orgasms like a real boy at some point in the future. Theoretically. But it would never feel right. It would never be right. I would always know that being that way wasn’t my authentic self.
I’ve been locked in chastity for fourteen years today. Hopefully, I will never not be ever again.