Under the category: Gay | Authoritarian by Paul G. Auden
"So, first of all, tell me what it is about chastity that excites you," Mitch began. We were sitting in the living room of our shared apartment, a competition reality show playing on the television in the background. Mitch sat on a ratty, threadbare recliner holding a bottle of craft beer in two fingers, while I relaxed on a faded sofa, bottle of beer between my legs.
"Well, the control, obviously," I answered.
"Yeah, okay, but be more specific. Do you mean the control of your keyholder deciding when and if you're allowed to come, or when and if you're allowed to have sex?" Mitch probed.
"Kind of. I mean, I'm a bottom," I said, blushing slightly at the admission. "And I'm a sub -- er, a submissive. So, wearing a chastity device isn't going to prevent me from having sex -- from bottoming, I mean, and of course it certainly won't keep me from sucking dick either."
"So what's the point then? Are you saying you really need a chastity device for your butt and mouth?" He laughed at the thought, as did I.
"Naw, what I'm saying is, male chastity devices today perform a different function than most people think, much different from the female chastity devices of -- what was it -- the Middle Ages I guess."
"Hmmm... Go on," Mitch prompted.
"Originally, chastity devices were a means to subjugate and oppress women. They were forced upon the women and were, I think, expressions of men's fears and insecurities. It's not about that with male chastity devices today. They're totally consensual, they aren't forced by doms onto their submissive partners. On the contrary, I've heard that 90 percent of the time it's the submissive partner who introduces chastity into the relationship and that their dominant partners usually need to be convinced to try it out."
"So no ones being oppressed."
"No one's being oppressed," I agreed.
"So what does chastity do for guys? Why are so many dom/sub guys into it?"
"Well, although chastity doesn't prevent a sub from having intercourse as a bottom, it does prevent him from coming, and that can be pretty exciting in and of itself."
"How does not coming excite you?" Mitch asked.
"I found that being kept perpetually horny -- combined with the constant awareness of this metal or plastic thing encompassing my dick -- is incredibly arousing. Intoxicating, almost. The longer Chris kept me locked up, the more submissive I became, too. It was a fun experience."
"I should be taking notes," Mitch said. "This is good stuff." He swigged his beer and for a moment we trained our attention on the performer on the television, belting out a hip-hop version of one of the songs from Hamilton. Then there was a commercial break and Mitch said, "So that's what's in it for the dom, then: a more servile and submissive partner."
"Exactly. And allowing the sub to have an orgasm, well that kind of breaks the spell so to speak, so the incentive is to try to keep it going for as long as possible."
"Duly noted." Mitch had an evil twinkle in his eye. "You said earlier that keeping the sub horny was one thing chastity does. What else does it do?"
"Oh, yeah." I finished my beer and got up to grab both of us another from the kitchen before continuing. "This might even be more important, in my opinion. My ex Chris liked to say that chastity was a signaling device."
"What's that?" Mitch asked.
"In economics, a signaling device is a way that one party to a contract conveys information about itself to the other party in a credible way."
"In English, Einstein," Mitch said, opening his new beer and taking a swig.
"Okay, so let's say I want to get hired for a job. At my interview I can tell my employer that I am focused and conscientious and that I'll be a valuable team member, but the employer doesn't know me and everyone makes those claims; I could be lying. This is a problem resulting from asymmetric information -- one party has information the other does not." Mitch got a glazed expression and his eyes drifted to the reality show. I realized I was losing my audience. "Bear with me for a sec, Mitch, I'm almost there. Okay, so we have this failure of information which happens all the time in markets. Except, it just so happens that I also have a college diploma. That piece of paper wasn't easily obtained. It took a lot of work, dedication, and money. That piece of paper though is a signaling device. It conveys information to the employer regarding my ability to follow through, my intelligence, and my potential value as an employee, especially compared to someone without a degree."
"Okay so how does that relate to chastity?" Mitch asked.
"A submissive can make any number of claims about himself to a dominant partner, and again, those claims may or may not be true. But the way Chris put it was, 'When we're trading nude pics and a sub sends me a picture of himself in chastity, I know he's the real deal.'"
"So a cock cage signals to a dominant guy that you're a bona fide submissive."
"Bingo."
"I imagine it signals other things as well," Mitch offered.
"You tell me, what other information might it convey?" I asked.
"Well, I know a lot of gay guys are versatile and want their partner to be versatile as well. Seeing a chastity device on you must dash any hopes of that happening."
"Yeah, that's absolutely correct. Someone sees this on me, they know which role I'm going to have in any sex play. My dick is not on the table."
"Which is why dominants don't wear chastity devices. It's like you said, it's not so much about keeping someone chaste as it is about symbolizing something about your status or your nature. Similar to a collar, I imagine."
"Yeah, I think you're right," I say.
I returned my attention to the television, and saw that we had talked through the entire competition. The credits were running.
Mitch looked at me and said, "So this conversation has solidified my position that I need to be your keyholder."
My cock jumped a little at Mitch's statement. "Why is that?"
"Well, bitchboy, it doesn't mean we're going to have sex, so don't get too excited. But I think I can help you be the kind of sub you were meant to be. And right now I am thinking of a whole lot of other ways I can benefit from such an arrangement."
I appreciated the way he was thinking about all of this. My roommate may have been straight, but he wasn't narrow. "Go get me both keys to your cock cage," Mitch demanded.
"Okay," I answered.
"Is that the way you should be answering me, fag? Show a little more respect," Mitch said sternly. I looked at his face and saw no evidence he was joking.
"Yes, Sir," I said sheepishly.
"That's better, boy," he said.
I retreated to my bedroom and rummaged for the keys. When I returned to the living room, though, I tried to inject some practicality into the discussion, to bring us both back down to Earth a little. I said, "Mitch, I really think we should discuss--"
"Bitchboy, what did you just call me?" Mitch snapped at me.
"I'm sorry. `Sir,' I meant --"
"That's better, but this isn't a debate, cocksucker. You're a sub and should start doing a lot less thinking and a lot more obeying." Mitch paused for a moment, and then said, "You know what? Let's get real here. I know you have a crush on me. I see you checking me out when we lift weights and when I get out of the shower. You've got it bad for me, and the fact that I'm straight -- which means there's no possibility your crush will lead anywhere -- makes you even hotter for me. I'm not going to get into a discussion of your internalized homophobia, and I'm not going to demand your keys, either. I want you to willingly give them up to me -- I want you to beg me to take them, actually -- understanding that I'll be in total control, and that it's quite possible you'll never be unlocked again. Or, your other option is, don't do that. Go back to the safety of your fantasy world, pining for someone but afraid to act on it, dreaming of what you want but unwilling to take any steps to get it. Take the red pill or the blue pill. It's your choice, sub."
My roommate had floored me twice today, causing me to be speechless yet again. How could such an insanely attractive jock be so insightful? My plan to remind Mitch that he was straight, and that we were roommates, that this whole thing could get pretty messy -- I jettisoned those. I decided to take the red pill, the one that meant waking up and living an authentic life. I looked up at him, and asked, as humbly as possible, "Would you please do me the honor and accept these keys, Sir? Please be my keyholder." I held out my palm, the two silver keys resting there, an offering to a god. A few excruciating moments later, that offering was accepted.