Male chastity is something that interests and, to be honest, often amuses me. For a man to voluntarily deny himself sexual release because a woman tells him to can be an act of deep devotion. On a shallower note, there are few things as funny as watching the frenzy a frustrated man can get himself into when he’s told he can’t do something.

The “Denying Thumper” blog is a fascinating look at this from a chap’s perspective. It’s often a controversial subject, as you will see if you read through the heated discussions that have previously erupted, the most recent being over the complex politics of orgasm control vs orgasm denial. Meanwhile though, I’ll point you in the direction of the entry pasted below, simply because it made me laugh:

“Belle’s lost my key.

I just like saying it. Belle, my keyholder, has lost the key to the inescapable steel trap she locked onto my body. Yes, that key.

No biggie.

If you remember, she locked me up before she went away last week (wisely not trusting me to be alone with the cock). I gave her the key back when I was done. The next time I saw it was a couple of days later when my son (of all people) showed it to me and asked me what it was for.

“Uh,” I said, “Where’d you find that?”

His friend had found it on the floor of my son’s room. Very weird. So I took it back and, redirecting him from his original question like Obi Wan Kenobi, told him I’d give it to his mom. I placed it in my pants pocket. Which pair? No idea. No neither of us know where it is now. Maybe it’ll show up in the laundry.

Not that it’s at all necessary. She appears to be wanting to keep me locked up until at least Valentine’s Day. She hasn’t come out and said that explicitly, but I know how she works. She likes holidays. So that’s still a few weeks away. If not Valentine’s Day, then maybe St. Patrick’s Day. It’ll turn up. I’m not worried. Much.

And if not, there’s always the emergency key.”

Original post here.