Guest Post - The Lockbox : DerangedPiglet

The Lockbox

By DerangedPiglet

It's all good fun until it all goes wrong

Once again, I found myself chatting with my lovely friend using the wonder that is the Internet.

I enjoy conversing with her as she tends to have very enlightening things to say and makes me think. She brims with sage advice, in comparison to my low-grade wit.

She has a tendency to tease information out of me like a spider spinning its silk. She probes for clarity, and I am all the happier for it.

I admit the transparency does me good. It is my hope that she feels the same way about me.

During this session, I told her about my most-recent foray into prolonged self-denial. I should admit that I very much enjoy the control someone can exert over my body with my penis caged.

I have spent years and many hundreds of dollars trying to find a penis prison compatible with my anatomy. It has taken a while to bridge the gap between comfort and security.

The perfect cage

I have found such a device. For those interested, the device is from a devilish German gentleman named Dietmar.

His company is Steelworxx, and the device is the Tube Jacket 02.

It is a small device. I would say approximately two inches long and a little over an inch wide. It has no base ring, instead of attaching to one's body through the use of a healed Prince Albert piercing.

Dietmar does some very nice work. Having ensured my inability to escape my tiny prison, the next step is to ensure I do not have access to my key.

Locking the key away

I had spent several days caged previously. My key holder agreed to control my precious keys to the even more precious lock.

We agreed to lock the keys inside a realtor lock box. This particular model of lockbox has 4 rollers with which to enter the combination.

We used a website called Emlalock which specialises in storing lockbox combinations.

The site takes a lot of the management of my session off of my key holder's hands.

To begin a session, the chaste takes a picture of the lock's combination using a camera or phone. The picture is then uploaded to Emlalock's website.

The image, like my cock, will be unavailable until the session has expired.

Let the chastity begin

I began a session. A cold shiver sashayed its way down my spine as I realised what I had now gotten myself into.

The Emlalock system can be a very harsh mistress. The cage I wore shrunk several sizes. No doubt due to temperature fluctuations in my room. (*ahem*) The session was set up to only run for a few days.

Being of sound mind and body (and poor judgement), I was sure I could handle this. Unfortunately for me, it was not that simple.

The Emlalock session required me to verify my session every eight hours. To verify, I had to take a picture of myself wearing the cage including a verification code.

The website provided the code, and I would need to display in frame and then take the picture. This was annoying but bearable.

Unfortunately, eight hours was the longest I was able to go. Any longer and my countdown timer would no longer countdown.

I ended up verifying around every six or seven hours. Even less overnight. Mid-evening trips to the facilities began to include side-trips for verifications also.

It was irritating but bearable. Also, since I had a devious key holder, my countdown timer was not shown in my session.

No doubt, she wanted me to despair about how long I would be inaccessible. There was no despair, but there was my share of frustration. The worst were the games.

Each day, I was to play two spins of Wheel of Fortune in the Emlalock session. The wheel contains five values. 12, 12, 11, 11, 10. Emlalock combines the values from both spins and adds it to my remaining time.

If my session is only three days or 72 hours, then I could go a very long time before that counter reaches zero.

Each day, between 20 and 24 hours added against my total remaining time! If I missed playing the game daily 48 hours added to my countdown!

I was now at the mercy of Emlalock. My key holder could watch with an evil glint in her eye and not an iota of mercy in her heart.

Freedom! Nearly, that is

There was no choice but to grind through the time, checking in and spinning as required. 44 days elapsed and I was becoming a zombie. Half awake, I checked in from work one afternoon and found that my countdown had elapsed!

Emlalock had sent me a picture of my combination. No more verifications in the middle of the night while half asleep! Never mind being able to unlock. I could sleep through the night again!

There may have been some four-wheel drifting pulling into the driveway after work. Racing for my lock box, I pulled up the picture on my phone. I spun the rollers to their correct positions.

My palms were sweaty, and my breath was short. I depressed the release and found it wouldn't move. This can't be right. I tried again with the same result. Warning klaxons blare between my ears.

I double checked the numbers while trying to fight back the panic. They looked good. My heart sunk. "Access denied," ringing in my ears like the computer from Star Trek.

I wasn't thinking of possible orgasms at this point. 44 days of key-holder-induced orgasm deprivation therapy seemed to have alleviated that issue.

The crazy started to tickle the inside of my skull. I could feel it's tendrils wrapping their way around my brain. I tried to focus my thoughts and hold the crazy at bay a little longer so I could maintain logical thought.

How can I escape this inescapable device if I can't get to the key? I can try each number possible on the rollers. That would take several hours and would be a long, slow process.

Much the opposite of what I wanted. It was better than staying locked though, so I started spinning rollers.

Going to plan "B", or, Youtube is your friend

What if I could pick the lock? There was a promising idea.

How would a guy with no lock picking skills pick a lock like this? YouTube must know. I flew to my computer. There may have been a sonic boom as I moved to my computer. I'm unsure.

I wondered if it was possible that I could look as if I was in two places at once. Having arrived at the computer before I could complete the thought, a quick search ensued.

I managed to find a video that described the step by step process of picking a realtor lock box. It required a bit of metal and some dexterity. Also, scissors and a soft can. I cut up the can until I had a workable size and gave it a try.

Per the video, I inserted the metal between the housing of the lock and the roller. This had to happen on each roller while applying a slight downward force to the piece of metal.

I pressed the metal in, applied the requisite pressure and began to spin the roller. It clicked several times before I felt the metal move.

I moved to the next roller and repeated the steps. I made it through all the rollers and attempted to press the release without success. The video said to rotate the rollers all at once and try again.

The row rotated, and I tried again. Three times I tried, and finally, IT OPENED! Waves of relief flowed through me.

This was better than an orgasm! The release combination turned out to be quite different. Emlalock's version and the release combination were miles apart.

I took off the cage and gave myself a much-needed cleaning, being careful not to ... pull the trigger.

As if to add insult to injury, my foreskin swelled up as if it had realised it could breathe again. I ended up leaving the cage off overnight because I couldn't get it on again.

That night I wrestled with guilt. I should have been happy to be free. Unfettered though I was, and free of the infernal midnight verifications.

What does the future hold?

Now I know my lockbox can open without a key. And I know how to perform the procedure. It was a bit of a let down, I had to find another method to deny myself access to my key. One that was more secure.

Locking yourself in a chastity device is fun. But you always have to stay vigilant to make sure that you're as secure as you can be.

Where is the fun if you can get out when you want to?