The beginning…

So, in a fit of guilt, my now-keyholder asked me to get him a CB-3000. I made him get it. It took over a month for him to find out that he couldn’t urinate in it — he’s too wide, apparently. A real shame, as I had made up some fantastic games for him. We have a bet on the Rose Bowl, and he wanted to be locked in while he found out what he earned — it ended up being 15 months in, with all releases at my whim.

I, however, had toyed with a CB-2000 many years ago. I could always slip out, except for the smallest ring, into which I could not even fit one of my testicles into, let alone my penis

So, in a massive fit of stupidity on my part, I surrepititiously tried the CB-3000 on yesterday. Yup, just like before, rings 5,4,3 and 2, I could pull out of and slip back into. I am Jack’s complete lack of surprise.

However, ring 1, now that they are hinged, could fit. And whoa! I can’t pull out! (Nor can I erect, what with the testicles needing some room and bloodflow and all…) Took a couple tries adding spacers until things were tight — inescapable, but still comfortable. I took the keys with me all day long. Did some home projects. Got a haircut. Went to the grocery store. Ran another errand across town. Played some golf. Everything was working well. I was feeling, in a nutshell, cocky. I had now had an inescapable CB-3000 on since 8 that morning, and had not used the keys to adjust since 11:30pm.
Then, we got into a on-and-off discussion, during which he mentioned that he was tired of the rules I was making. I asked him if he thought he could do better. No answer.

We go out to meet some friends at a comedy club. I ask again on the way in the car. Still no answer. I ask yet again, and finally get a “yes”. So, while driving, I take the keys off my keychain, and hand them to him. I feel quite a jolt in my nether regions…
What are these to? he asked absurdly…

In response, I simply took his hand to my plastic-hardened crotch.

At which point the interrogation started:

Are you realling willing to do this? (A: with some caveats)
Are these the only keys to the current lock? (A: yes)

At which point he started to freak out, and insisted that I remove the lock as soon as we got to the comedy club.

So we get there, and I park the car. We put the top up, and he insists that I remove the lock immediately, so I unzip and hand it to him. After some brief searching, a suitable temporary substitute is found (I don’t want to remove it and carry it around all night, and I don’t want to leave it in the car, and I don’t want it to fall off), and worn for the duration of the opener, the good one, and the headliner.

Then, we get back home. Finally! (Riding in the car is my least favorite part of wearing this new CB — I have to sit up very high in my seat to not make my balls cyanotic (as opposed to blue balls, heh!)).

OK, now I’m writing this like a lisp coder

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