To spend a week in a male chastity device that discourages erections and prevents masturbation and sexual contact.




State your hypothesis in the form of a prediction that can be verified by the results of the experiment.

Seven days of chastity? Impossible. The longest I've gone without touching "it" was, well . . . not that long. Certainly less time than Sting takes to bust a nut. I chose to think of the assignment this way: because I write this column for a living, I was essentially being paid not to grab Mr. Happy. In that light, letting the chicken go unchoked for a week seemed almost feasible.


Please list all the materials required for this experiment (including, if applicable, how they were obtained).

CB-2000 chastity device (one; pink)




In this portion of your report, you must describe step-by-step what you did in your lab. It should be specific enough that someone who has not seen the lab can follow the directions and recreate the same lab.

This column is supposed to be about boldly going where I've never been before. However, I'd be lying if I said that I hadn't previously experimented with chastity. I took part in a longitudinal study that lasted throughout my teen years. I painstakingly doctored my appearance and behavior to ensure that my findings were pure. Upon leaving high school, I concluded that my Winger haircut, cystic acne, poor oral hygiene and quiz-team membership had done much to keep the experiment on track.

Fast forward six or seven years, and I'm comparatively quite the man about town. Now that I don't look like Joe Dirt — and actually have some say in whether I get action — I thought it might be a really "fun" idea to relive the hormone-fueled frustrations of my pimply adolescence. Really. One crucial variable: back then, I had the option of shaking hands with the governor for hours on end. Safely locked into the CB-2000 "chastity device," I wouldn't have that opportunity.

The CB-2000 isn't a chastity belt; it's an all-encompassing chastity cage — sort of a kendo mask for your johnson. It's made of interconnected rings designed to fit snugly at a downward angle, thus preventing erection and orgasm. The first ring encircles the entire genitalia; pins clamp the rest of the contraption onto that. A padlock holds the cage in place, rendering the wearer well and truly chaste. For timid souls not entirely at ease with being put under lock and key — or those not wanting to cause a stir with airport security — the device comes with a number of plastic locks which the wearer can undo with scissors or a knife. However, if your forced abstinence is being monitored by a third party, be warned: Each plastic lock comes with a unique serial number. Should you cut yourself loose for a quickie, your indiscretion will be apparent.

According to the instruction book, the CB-2000 is "ideal for long-term wear." Some guys use the things for months on end, because it allows you to pee and shower normally. Two things that it doesn't permit you to do: walk and wear jeans. You tend to hobble around looking like you crapped your pants after smuggling a large cantaloupe into the front of your drawers.

The contraption arrived in a black velveteen bag with hot-pink embroidery. Barely able to contain my excitement, I emptied the contents onto my bed. The pile of big pink plastic rings looked like the spoils from a 1985 mugging of the Go-Go's. The prospect of assembling the thing was mind-boggling. Luckily, I was accompanied by a friend who was familiar with the product, and she locked me in without a glance at the owner's manual. Declaring that chastity was "kinda hot," she offered to take the keys back home with her to Los Angeles. Hot it may be, but faced with the inability to emancipate myself should the need arise, I started to feel a little claustrophobic.