Male chastity interested me since I was a kid.
As a child, I grew up surrounded by sisters. I was the youngest and the only boy. Our neighborhood was predominantly female too.
My sisters babysat me during the summer while my parents were at work.
From the age of 5, they would dress me up, put me in diapers to play house, tie me up and at times make me strip naked so they could see my penis.
Even worse, they sometimes invited over their friends from the neighborhood.
With all that, it is no wonder I grew up to be submissive and longing to be dominated by beautiful women.
In my early teens, as puberty hit I seemed shunned by every girl I met. Maybe it was the raging testosterone, or the pimples. So I retreated into pornography.
I started purchasing copies of Penthouse Variations each month. The femdom and cuckold stories were my favorites and disappointment set in when there were none.
In the 70’s I was also exposed to the Centurians’ catalog. For those too young to know about it, Centurians was the BDSM Home Shopping Network of its day.
It was in the pages of Centurians’ catalog, I saw my first male chastity cage. I remembered reading a story in Variations where a wife had locked her husband’s cock in a cage.
I had to have one.
At the time, I was a teen with no money, so I tried to make a leather strap design like one in the catalog. It kept slipping off, which left me frustrated, but not in a good way.
So my desire to have my cock locked in chastity went on the back burner. I had no idea how to find a chastity keyholder. I didn’t even know how to find a girlfriend.
But my interest in male chastity burned bright because I couldn’t have it. Little did I realize that denial and wanting something I couldn’t have would one day consume my life.