Locking a man’s thing in a thing is…a THING
It’s called a male chastity device. They have been selling in their millions to bonded partners, BDSM players and the fetish crowd for the last several decades.
Let me back up.
The world has snickered at the notion of the female chastity belt throughout the modern era. Their use has been spoofed and celebrated in books and movies; tales all featuring a common thread and a predictable outcome. The story goes like this: To ensure the chastity of his woman, a man traps her into a nasty pair of metal panties before leaving on an epic journey; panties for which he alone holds the key to her lock. While this act of male insecurity can’t ensure her love or loyalty, it does offer him the peace of mind that what’s his stays his. My favorite version features a king about to do battle. He entrusts his most loyal knight with the key to the queen’s golden chastity belt — to be opened only should calamity befall him during the campaign. The king scarcely clears the castle walls when he hears the screams of his trusty knight, running up behind him breathlessly.
“Your majesty! Your majesty!”
“What is it, Sir Knight?”
“You gave me the WRONG key.”
What you gonna do with all that junk?
Fast forward to the modern era where no self-respecting person would think to clap a partner’s sexuality in irons — or would they? The trend goes by many names, but it all comes down to the same medieval concept…with a twist. This time, it isn’t the woman who is being locked down. It’s the men. Welcome to the world of male chastity.
Let that simmer a moment as all of your questions bubble forth. Here’s an example of some of mine:
How do I, you know, relieve myself?
What happens if I get excited while thus entrapped?
What if my partner gets angry and throws away the key?
Is it sanitary?
Is it painful?
Can I fit into one?
What if I have to go through security at the airport?
Will it show?
How long do I keep this thing on?
Because I am not into bondage play, I’d never even known they existed. A friend of mine gingerly broached the topic with me during halftime at the Super Bowl a year ago as we were discussing a player’s need for a really sturdy cup. Turns out, he and his attractive, normal, middle-class girlfriend had been playing with male chastity for months. He reported their sex life had never been so robust and exciting; and that they had essentially resurrected the dead almost overnight. He’d had a thing on his ding FOR MONTHS. I cringed at the thought and put it out of my mind. Until four hours later.
As a couple, we were in a similar situation. He had my attention. I started googling and found that male chastity devices are fairly common and run the gamut from heavy chrome cages to light precision polycarbonate cases in popular colors, featuring sleek finishes and attractive design. Some of the knock-offs resembled the more expensive products, but turned out to be cheap plastic hurt lockers with exposed edges I now call “ouches.” Sizes range from “Oh. I’m so sorry” to “Oh. My GOD.” Prices begin at a few dozen dollars and can fetch almost $200. If you’re buying a gag gift to go along with your…gag gift, aiming low is the way to go. But if you want to have the full bonded monogamy experience and really see for yourself why men would willingly encase themselves, I say spend the money on the real thing. CB-X.com was first to market with their revolutionary design and precision manufacture. They are billed as the most comfortable device and considering they’ve sold the most units to the largest number of repeat customers, I bit.
It came in the mail.
The kit was impressive and seemed to cover every base. It arrived with one cage, five different sized…testicle rings (maybe you should just logon to their site at cb-x.com), various sized spacers, a brass, brand name Master padlock, which I thought was a nice touch and various spacers in a leatherette carrying case. And one more thing which I thought was genius: five plastic travel locks that snap on and can’t be removed without breaking it. They’re individually numbered to prevent cheating. I held the cage up and tried to imagine what life would be like without the freedom to fondle myself at will.
My partner was all over it. She insisted I get a move on and model it for her. Then something interesting happened. Don’t judge me, but I got so turned on there was no way my enlarged peg was going to fit into that round hole. After a bit of trial and error — involving my imagining Margaret Thatcher naked on a cold day — it was in place. I was locked and loaded. What happened next is why I decided to write a blog about it.
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