Here's a quick little story that practically wrote itself. I was almost to the end before realizing I hadn't even given the male character a name. It was strangely fitting, so I left it that way. --- Evelyn toyed with the chastity cage, her husband's cock desperately trying to break free from within. Remarkable that a few pieces of metal could result in such drastic change. Sex was now entirely on her terms: precisely when and how she wanted it. She found herself wanting it more, a lot more. Gone were those once-a-week times, the requisite minimum of a good wife. She wanted it every day, provided it was how she liked it. Increasingly, that was with his head buried between here legs, licking her to as many orgasms as she desired. Then perhaps a few minutes of cuddling and kissing. That was a formula that worked very well for her. Perhaps not as well for him, but that's what the cage was for: to keep everything focused on her. Today had begun as usual, and the orgasms were as wonderful as always. It topped off a week of perfect behavior, and she felt he deserved a reward. She slipped the key into the lock, releasing his cock from its cage. She played with it, feeling it grow firmer and larger in her hand. It was a nice looking cock, one that was made for sucking. In those earlier times she would have obliged, as a good wife was expected to. But today that cock would not feel the warmth of her mouth. She was no longer a good wife. She had become something much more special: a good Mistress. Besides, why waste time with her mouth when there were such better uses for that lovely cock. She had just the place for it: warm, moist, and a perfect fit. She straddled his body, rubbing the tip of his cock against her pussy. He was ready for her, and she him, but she drew out the moment nonetheless. Should today be a little reward or a big one? She tried to remember when she'd last let him have an orgasm, but she couldn't. It must have been a long time. A big reward, then. He'd certainly earned it. She told him she planned on riding him until he exploded. But there was one tiny condition: he had to remain perfectly still. Like a statue. She placed the just tip of his cock inside her, watching him tremble as she wriggled around. She let a little more inside, just another inch. Now she could ride up and down a little. She wanted more, they both did, but she held out and resisted the temptation for as long as she could. Finally she could wait no longer and needed to be filled by him. She plunged down to bury his cock deep inside her. Instinctively his hands reached for her hips, holding her there. She quickly swatted them away. "Awfully grabby for a statue. Strike one." She gyrated her hips, enjoying the way his cock shifted and slid around. Periodically she'd clench her muscles around it, making it throb even more. She fell into a nice rhythm, thoroughly enjoying the sensation of being filled. She thought he was getting close, a few long thrusts should do the trick. She rose up, and realized he had raised his hips, unconsciously trying to stay inside. "Strike two." Reluctantly, he relaxed onto the bed, the tip of his cock just barely inside her. She held him there, testing his resolve. The tension was obvious, but he held perfectly still. Slowly she lowered herself until her mound pressed against him, then she rose equally slowly, savoring every inch of him sliding in and then out. Another thrust, and then another. A dozen in all, each one tantalizingly slow and more wonderful than the last. She stopped abruptly, hoping to trick him into moving, but he remained motionless. She'd have to try something else. After a moment she resumed her ride. Long, slow thrusts of intense ecstasy. She could feel his urgency build. She rose up until he was barely inside, then resumed her descent. But this time she stopped only halfway down. He thrust against her, needing to be fully inside. "Strike three." She quickly rolled to the side, leaving him desperate and aching. His engorged cock twitched and throbbed. For a moment she wondered if she had timed it wrong, if he was past the point of no return. That would hardly have been the first orgasm she ruined, but it still would have been a shame. She preferred for it to be saved up, ready for next time. She loved keeping all of that pent up lust tucked away in such a tiny cage, and holding the key to that cage was pure joy.