Guys, no matter their age, orientation, relationship status, or hair color all have one thing in common. They stick their hands in their pants. Maybe they do it in front of the TV. Maybe they do it only when they’re alone. Maybe they do it on Zoom calls. Usually, they do it absentmindedly. But they all do it. It’s a habit they begin to develop as very small boys, I guess. A fascination with this little tube of meat that sticks out of their body and makes them feel things. This hands-down-the-pants thing isn’t necessarily sexual. In fact, I’d say it’s mostly not. It’s just a thing we do. A place to keep our hand. A way to make a connection with ourselves.
Guys permanently locked in chastity aren’t any different. I often have my hand in my pants. I even find myself doing it in front of people, though I tend to not stick it too far down there in those times. Just feeling the top of my pubes is enough. But I’ll really get in there when on the couch in front of the TV or in bed looking at my phone. Of course, what I feel is not what most men feel. For me, it’s something hard and without sensation of its own. Lately, it’s been the feeling of textured black plastic. I run my finger over the protrusion where the shaft tube meets the base ring or along the edge of the flared head shield or I simply cup the whole unit along with my balls.
I get the same “reward” for doing that as a normal guy. Still make that connection with myself. Because on my body, “my penis” is whatever hard container is locked onto me at that moment. Currently, it’s the Evotion Orion (and it’s been that for the past 33 plus days and, I suspect, it’ll be that for the foreseeable future). But I was thinking this morning, as I was feeling it in my shorts while laying in bed waiting for Belle to wake up, that I’d no more consider the contents of the Orion as “my penis” any more than I’d consider the nasal bones and cartilage in my head as my “my nose.” My nose is what anyone can see in the middle of my face. And the penis on my body is the same. It’s this penis-shaped mass of 3D-printed plastic with the hollow titanium tube sticking out the end. That’s it.
I mean, I know there’s a real penis inside there. Of course I do. But I feel dissociated from it in a real way. And I find that the most effective way to learn to live with a constant background radiation of horniness is to stop thinking of it as a distinct thing. It’s not productive for a permanently locked man to obsess over what he’s not allowed to do or the various functions the contents could perform in the past. For example, I don’t think about what it’s like to pee without being locked. I only think about it as a locked man. The way it’s changed and the different hygiene techniques required. I just do it in a way that accepts it not as a second nature, but my nature.
Similarly, it’s just not productive to think about what unfettered erections can do. I don’t have one of those anymore so indulging myself by focusing on what I can’t do is not just counterproductive, it’s downright corrosive to my well-being. I should (and do) focus on what I can do, even if that list doesn’t include stroking, fucking, or orgasm. In fact, that is the entire point of being kept in chastity. Focusing on what can and should be done to and for the person holding the key. Period.
That’s my advice to guys struggling with being in long-term or permanent lock-up. Focus on what being that way gives you, not on what it takes away. Focus on them and their pleasure and yours will follow. Accept how that changes you. How the constant horniness empowers and motivates you. How it makes you feel whole. Embrace it. Celebrate it. For a lot of us, it’s our calling.
Also, just go ahead and stick your hand down your pants. You know you want to.