I didn’t realize CM had come back online. It’s been a pretty chaotic couple of weeks in the rabbit hole. I’ve found a KH! (Queue rousing applause). I started a blog, but there was some risk to my anonymity, so I took it down. So I’m going to share the saved drafts of those posts for everyone’s amusement. Enjoy.
Sorry if the tense is weird—I wrote and uploaded these as they happened, but since they’re a bit older now, using present tense might feel odd. For the record, I’m currently in my second lock-up period. My first one lasted two weeks and ended with a single orgasm; since then, I’ve been locked up again for the last 10 days. There’s a chance of release on Thursday, but it’s not guaranteed.
Also, some posts will be split into two parts due to character limit constraints.
Since I was an awkward teenage boy, there has been a fantasy I found hard to share, even among the kinky friends I naturally gravitate toward. It’s easy to tell someone you want them hurt during sex, tied up, or denied use of their hands, voice, or senses; that you want to see them beg for relief while in pain. But telling them you want your cock locked in a chastity device, with them holding the only key, and that you want to be pushed to the limits of frustration? That takes some balls.
I think I first encountered BDSM when browsing the internet at age 11. There was a small site called Slave Farm (still running). At first, I was shocked; I even wondered if the police had discovered this form of modern slavery and how I, as a small, technologically-inept child, managed to beat them to it. However, much like noticing a missed punch in wrestling for the first time, I soon saw the smiling eyes and signs of negotiation in the more amateur images I came across. It was an eye-opening moment that really opened my eyes to what sex could be about.
A couple of years later, I found a photo series called ‘Mistress Bitch’, and for nearly a year, my main masturbatory fantasy involved being pegged by a woman with a large, flexible rubber strapon and a big red boa (I’m a sucker for drama). From there, I started exploring the broader world of Female Domination. There were many things that interested me—power exchange, shiny costumes, CBT, golden showers, wildly impractical high heels, public exposure, feminisation, play piercings; but also things that turned me off: scat, severe masochism, those slightly-paedophilic schoolyard fantasies, and perhaps the worst of all, fixed notions of what it means to be a ‘man’ or a ‘woman’. Perhaps the greatest turnoff was talking to online kinksters. Their insistence on how kink MUST be done, their exclusivism and elitism, and near-constant gender essentialism put me off. I met some people in my late teens who were part of ‘the scene’, and frankly, they deterred me from ever getting involved with kinky collectives. They seemed like the same dickheads you meet as a kid when playing Warhammer—devoid of any meaningful social power but choosing to exercise their expertise in niche areas designed to exclude newcomers, lest they be eclipsed. Telling people I was something of a switch went down about as well as a hangover-fart at a funeral. You couldn’t be categorised and were therefore dangerous.
I’ve never been able to say whether I am strictly dominant or submissive. When younger and first developing real-world sexual experience, I tried expressing my submissive side, but partners generally found this weird and preferred the idea of me taking the lead while they surrendered their power to be mildly abused. Over time, my fantasies became more dominant than submissive, reflecting experiences that seemed more available and rewarding (it’s disheartening how many people seem to live without trying rough sex, truly, though on the plus side, they generally have a great laugh when they get into it). While I enjoy being the dominant party in a situation, there was still unease as much of my sexual persona remained dormant. After my last relationship ended about a year and a half ago, I decided that sexual experimentation and exploring my submissive tendencies should really top my list.
When younger and discovering Femdom, I happened across Altairboy. I would spend hours after my family went to bed reading his hastily-written tales, likely typed with one hand while the other remained busy with more pressing matters. Rediscovering the site and the wider world of chastity, I saw how mass-produced less intrusive devices seemed to have elevated this fetish within broader online kinky communities. I started chatting with a few people online (one of whom has been nothing but encouraging in my sexual exploration and is in a similar situation herself) before taking the plunge and buying… dun-dun-de-dun… my very first chastity belt. A Chinese steel model sold through uberkinky with a detachable urethral insert, it seemed like excellent quality on a budget. Then I tried sleeping in it. My god. I knew discomfort was expected, but a strong burning sensation under the balls? No. Just no. I chalked it up to its design and decided to buy the Holytrainer V2, which must be said is one of the best products ever graced with one of the worst names for any commodity (sexual or not). With this device you can sleep like a charm, but sadly, when waking often my erection had nearly forced the device over the tip of my penis. I’d like to act macho now and claim it’s obviously because my massive erection size just shot off the small version I bought. Thinking back, using baby oil to get the device on and in place probably didn’t help this issue (buying nylon socks next week is on my to-do list to see how well the device stays on without lube). …