The Willing Prisoner

Part 1:

As I sat in my cage for the second day, I kept reminding myself that I asked for this. It seemed small comfort. I rubbed my aching hand as I reminisced.
---
My wife and I had begun our explorations of Femdom many years ago. Before we married, I confessed my desire to wear a chastity device. While initially reluctant, my wife (then girlfriend) humored me. I bought a device, and began wearing it. It wasnt long before I had broken in, and we arranged for her to take charge of the keys. She was a novice at BDSM and Femdom, but willing to learn. She quickly became addicted to my servitude, and my tongue. Within a year, I was locked 24/7, though released quite frequently for sex. She learned to tease and taunt me. In return, I learned to please her, both in the bed, and outside of it. She not only held the keys, but increasingly asserted herself as my Domme. It was wonderful! We were in love. We bought several more devices.

We had been 24/7 in female domination for over a year, when I proposed. By this time, I had spent the majority of our time together in chastity. It seemed only natural to offer her not only my heart, but also my desire for her to keep me in chastity as her submissive for the rest of our lives together. . By saying I do, I said, Ill be saying that every orgasm for the rest of my life will be at your whim whether once per day, or never again. She accepted my proposal with a smile, saying and I promise to hold your keys, keep you chaste, and dominate our marriage completely! Five months later, I said I do in front of family and friends. Few people knew that the necklace around her neck held a key, hidden below her neckline. We had not revealed our private vows, but she wanted me to know the key was there throughout the ceremony, to remind me that she was serious.
---
As I now sit in this cage, locked in our basement, I keep thinking of our private vows, and the words never again. At the time, it seemed a wildly romantic thing to say. I didnt really think much of it. She had been letting me out once or twice a week for wonderful sex. She once kept me locked for three weeks. It was mind-blowing. At the time, I had thought that much more than three weeks would KILL me. Besides, she never wanted to be without my cock for that long. Now, on my third MONTH of chastity, Ive discovered just how little I understood.
---
Before our marriage, she had begun asserting herself, not only through chastity, but with commands, and even demands. I was thrilled, since I had viewed myself as the more kinky of the two of us. The fact that she was running with it made me so happy. I eagerly complied with her increasing demands. I should have realized that she had been studying up, but honestly, I was somewhat wrapped up in my own career. In the evenings, Id be in front of my computer, catching up on work from home, while she was in her den doing research. As a college professor, she was constantly reading in there. Little did I know that a major focus of her research had become Female Domination.

I didnt discover, until much too late, that she had begun reading about FemDom after we purchased the chastity device, so that she could please me. She was amazed to find a new passion, and an unquenchable thirst for knowledge about chastity, and dominating men. The more she researched, the more she wanted everything she read about. Early in our relationship, I was complying with every simple demand, and giving her endless pleasure. This fueled her passion for a life of Dominance more than ever!

She began keeping me locked for increasing periods, and began experimenting with sadism. First, it was gentle floggers, and slappers. It progressed. Frankly, I was so horny that the attentions and the pain were an aphrodisiac. I fell deeper into her spell, as she became more skilled at sadism. We learned Cock and Ball Torture together. I would safeword when I needed to, but frankly, I could see her joy and thrill at causing me pain. I took it as best I could, striving to please her.

Our basement was converted into a play room with crosses, spanking benches, and the like. My skills at welding, learned during a high school job, were invaluable as she had me build manacles and eventually, a small cage. It was the size of a dog cage perhaps 2 feet on a side, and 4 feet long. I could only fit into it if I curled into a ball. She loved locking me in there, sometimes for a few hours at a time..

After a time, our play changed, and I found that no pleasure came without pain. My releases were only >after< long sessions of flogging or CBT. Still, I was so in her spell that I willingly endured. Needles, hot wax, ice, and the sharp sting of a crop were now foreplay. Still, when climax came, it was so incredible that I could only beg to be locked up, and begin again!

At the same time, she became increasingly dominant, even during the times we were not playing. It became routine that I would spend the evenings and weekends in my manacles, and steel slave collar. I would serve her every need, waiting on my knees at her feet for my next command. She would lock me to a cross or spanking bench, several times per week, and punish me for any infractions to her growing list of rules. In just a few years, I was totally enslaved, and loving every minute of it.

One evening, Mistress was unwinding after some frustrating meetings and a long day at work. As often was the case, I was locked, spread-eagled to a cross. She was putting needles in my nipples, and in a circular pattern of play-piercings down my belly. The needles were coming closer and closer to my groin. This had happened before. She pierced a trail of needles down my pubic bone. She took my penis in hand. I was locked in my Number 3 Lori tube. My PA piercing held it in place, but there was no ring around my balls. My glans was totally exposed. The tube simply prevented me from achieving orgasm.

Mistress took a needle and trailed its point down my shaft, and across the steel tube, as my dick shriveled in her hand. Yellow. I whimpered. I never had the courage to let her stick a needle in my junk. She sighed, and continued rubbing the point of the needle up and down my shaft. Are you sure, slave? Yes, Mistress, Im so sorry. I just. Red Im sorry!

I was SO in love with her at that moment, but couldnt do this one thing. It just frightened me too much. I was angry at myself, and Mistress looked so disappointed. I thought Id try to take her mind off my failure. Only in retrospect, did I realize that this was a REALLY bad time to ask this questionI lay, spread-eagled on a cross, with needles poking through my nipples and decorating my torso. Mistress, our anniversary is in a few weeks. What would you like? She looked at me, seriously for a long moment. I grew still, knowing that she was about to ask for something very important. I want just one thing from you, Slave. The rest I can take, anyway. She paused, and looked me deeply in the eyes. I want your safeword..

End Part 1

 

<Part 2>

I stopped rubbing my hand. It felt rested, finally, at least a little bit. I flipped myself over in the cramped basement cage. I couldn’t stretch out. I could only lay in a fetal ball. I took up the pen once again, and began to write in my book. The task was mindless. As I continued, I thought back to the day my Wife asked me for the greatest gift of all.
---

My heart pounded, and my dick strained in its tube as I lay, tied to the cross, looking up at my wife. I was both terrified and enormously turned on at the same time! “Well, slave, I was reluctant to ask this of you, but it would seem that perhaps you WANT to give up your safeword!”. She fondled my hardening member, chuckling. I was speechless. “Don’t commit now, boy. Our anniversary is in two weeks. You don’t have to decide about your gift now.”

Our play session soon ended. I got no orgasm that night. In fact, my pain that evening was mostly just to allow Mistress to blow off some steam from her long day at work. A few hours later, I tucked her into bed. I gave her oral service, as she often required at bed time. She came harder than usual, pulling my hair and grinding herself against my face. She didn’t say what she was thinking about. I imagined it was being able to dominate or torture me, without the risk of me using my safeword.. I couldn’t help but notice that I was rock hard in my tube as I considered this possibility.. Was it just because I was giving oral to my wife? Or was it because I really DID want to give up my safeword? I didn’t know. A while later, Mistress dozed off beside me, with her hand still on my locked member. She often fondles me as she dozes off. I lay there all night, unable to sleep. Thinking.

Over the next two weeks, Mistress gave me numerous other suggestions for anniversary presents… a new iPod, matching Mistress/slave jewelry, and some great shoes she saw in a catalog, just to name a few. I think she may have felt guilty that she asked me for my safeword in her own moment of frustration. I KNOW that she is frustrated that I’m afraid to let her play-pierce my cock and balls. She’s shown me numerous photo galleries of pierced slaves. It’s not that uncommon, and fairly safe. Heck, I have a PA piercing. Why should I be afraid of a few more 20ga needles?!?…. But I AM! She has tried numerous times, and I’ve always safeworded. I’ve felt so horrible, afterward. I just lack the courage.

As our Anniversary approached, I told Mistress that I had a surprise in store for our dinner on our special night. She loves surprises. On Friday Night, our Anniversary, Mistress came home from work to find me already there. I had taken the afternoon off to start a long weekend. I was naked, wearing only my chastity tube, collar, and manacles on ankles and wrists. I met her at the door, and took her coat and things. She looked confused. I think she expected me to take her out. A smile crossed her face when she found the dining room table decorated with an arrangement of roses, and lit candles. She smelled her favorite dinner cooking (I’ve become quite an excellent cook, if I do say so myself). Her plate and silverware were on the table, and mine on the floor beside her chair. A bottle of wine was already open and breathing. I poured her a glass, as she sat at the table. She found an anniversary card, and a small box, wrapped with a bow. “Let’s open these after dinner,” she said. I asked permission to serve her dinner, and did so. It came out very well. She lavished me with complements as I beamed with pride, from the floor beside her. I admit, I didn’t eat much myself. I was nervous.

After dinner, she opened her card, and smiled. It was a nice one, professing my love and devotion, and my desire for many more years with her. She looked curiously at the box. “What could that be?!?” she asked, half teasingly. I’m sure she thought it was the jewelry she requested. I smiled, from the floor beside her, and gestured with my eyes to open it. She unwrapped the small jewelry box. She looked at me curiously as she shook it. No sound. I smiled back. She opened the box. There, on its small purple velvet pillow was a small slip of parchment paper, just one inch by two. In a fine calligraphy, the word “Red” appeared.

Mistress was truly surprised. She stared at it for a moment, processing. It wasn’t jewelry. Her mouth formed an “Oh” as she looked, with wide eyes. After a moment, she composed herself. She looked down at me. “Are you sure?!?” I noticed her hands were shaking, holding the box.. I smiled back and nodded from the floor. My heart was pounding in my chest. I was light headed. She looked at me for a long moment, and took my face in one hand. She looked me deeply in the eyes. “I feel badly I even asked you for this. I was frustrated that night, that’s all. It was a bad day.. This is no joke. I won’t be angry if you take this back now. But if you don’t, there’s no going back on this, honey. Are you absolutely SURE!?!”

I was surprised. She had not addressed me that way in several years. She called me “honey” when we were equals, and lovers. The differentness of it shocked me. I think that was her intent. She wanted to make sure I was absolutely clear about this…. I was. “I’m your slave, Mistress. I love you, and I never want to go back to being your equal. I trust you completely, and never want to disappoint you again, like I did a few weeks ago.” I knelt quivering but resolute, “I don’t want my safeword any more. I’m too weak to have it.” My voice broke, as I said that, but I looked her in the eye, so she knew I was serious.

A tear rolled down her cheek. She lifted me up by my face, and kissed me deeply. Passionately. “Thank you. You don’t know what this means to me!” She took the slip of paper, and held it to the flame of one of the candles. My safeword went up in smoke on our third wedding anniversary.

She looked me in the eyes for a long moment, as she composed her thoughts. “I will always love you, and I respect you enormously for trusting me, and giving me this gift. You are my husband, and my slave, and the only man I will ever love.” Her face grew more serious. She moved her hand from my chin, to my hair. She pulled it, hard, turning my face up toward hers. “But, I have needs. You’ve awakened things inside me that I never knew about. You will help me satisfy those needs. You told me once that chastity was an aphrodisiac for you. Well, your suffering is MY aphrodisiac. From now on, you will suffer even more to please me. Not just chastity and pain, but fear, humiliation, disgust, longing …. anything I can think of… and I can think of a LOT.”

I knelt looking up at her eyes. There was a fire I had never seen before. She was absolutely serious. I shook even harder. I realized something way too late. I had grossly underestimated my wife’s kinky desires. I was terrified, shaking, and never so much in love.

<End Part 2>

 

<Part 3>

I was famished. Mistress had left a few bottles of water just outside the bars, which I could reach, but no food. I estimated that I had been in the cage for more than 36 hours. Light from under the door to the utility room told me that the sun had risen. It was now Sunday morning, some time.

I could only stretch out by sticking my legs or arms out of the bars. I could not sit up, the cage was too low. I was in agony from lying nearly naked on the cold, hard concrete. I was also freezing! My steel chastity belt and manacles offered little coverage. Mistress had put a small space heater outside the cage, after she locked me in it, but it wasn’t enough. I turned frequently to warm one side or another of my body from it.

The single bare bulb above the cage illuminated the area around me, in the otherwise dark basement. The smell was growing. Some time in the middle of the first night, I could no longer hold my bladder. I had pointed my bottom outside the bars, and peed as far as I could away from the cage. It didn’t work. Most dribbled out of the Neosteel into a puddle at the edge of the cage. A fair amount ran down my leg. The smell of the urine wasn’t so bad. Unfortunately, a few hours ago, I could no longer hold the rich anniversary dinner my wife and I had shared on Friday night, before locking me in this cage.

I hollered for her, of course, hoping she would allow me at least that dignity. I knew it was hopeless as I called, but I had to try. Whimpering, I finally shoved my butt as far to one corner of the cage as I could, but my waste remained. I also had nothing to wipe with. It was humiliating and horrible. I was sure Mistress was watching me through the video camera pointed at the cage. I wondered what she thought of this latest degradation. The room stunk of piss and shit, and I now knew she was resolute. There was only way to get out. It was simple, but extremely tedious and time consuming.

I took up the pen, and began to write my lines again. I was nearing the end. I would probably be finished in a few hours. As I looked at the words, they didn’t seem as abhorrent to me as they did when she first gave them to me. As I reflected, these were all things I had hinted to her.

I was a fool… or was I? Was this what I wanted? I didn’t think so Friday night…. But why had I dropped all those hints over the last few years? I shook my head, doubting myself.

I kept writing, seeing the end in sight. I couldn’t help it. I whimpered with relief as I flipped another page, and thought about getting out of this cage. I wasn’t there yet, though. As I wrote, I recalled the events of Friday night.

---

Mistress ordered me to clean up from dinner, before joining her. It was still early, Friday evening, when I entered the bedroom, upstairs. I knelt at her feet, as she lay in bed, naked, writing in her journal. “Ahh, there you are,” she said. She set her journal aside, and parted her legs. I thought she wanted service. I began to climb into the bed, between her legs. “Stop!” She shouted. Get your Neosteel!

I tried not to show my disappointment, as I went for the belt. I have many chastity devices. The Neosteel is the most “covering”, permitting me little access to my balls, and I can’t even get hard in it. My dick is forced downward. I had not had an orgasm for three months. I had assumed that, since it was our anniversary, and I hadn’t cum in so long, that I would get relief tonight... especially after my gift to her. Having to wear the Neo did not bode well. She rarely granted me relief the same day she put me in that belt.

I got it out of the dresser, and Mistress pointed toward the master bathroom. I knew the drill. I went and knelt in the shower stall. I heard her opening the wall safe in the bedroom and remove keys. I don’t know the combination to that safe. It’s where she keeps all my chastity belt keys, completely out of my reach. She owns my sex. She entered the bathroom, and unlocked my Number 2 Lori tube. She removed the shower head, and I braced myself as she turned it on full cold, and blasted my crotch. At her command, I removed the tube, and washed myself with soap, as she blasted cold water on my genitals. I hated this almost as much as what was to come.

We have a small “cube” refrigerator in the bedroom. We keep a few drinks in there, in case we want something and don’t feel like running downstairs. There’s one other thing in there. It’s a tube of lube, kept very cold. She had brought the lube into the bathroom with the keys. She handed it to me, and said “Put on the Neo”. Any temptation my dick had to get hard was erased by the ice cold lube, as I put it on. I was shivering and cold, as I put my shriveled cock in the Neo tube, and pulled on the waistband. As I knelt, shivering in the shower stall, Mistress sat naked on the toilet seat. As I clicked the last lock closed, she parted her legs, and began fingering herself… faster and faster….”Oooh oooh! This is gonna be so…ahh ahh….” She came, as I knelt, looking on, my cold cock straining already inside the Neosteel. I had never seen her cum so fast. Something had her incredibly worked up..

She got up and wiped her wet fingers across my face, and under my nose. The smell of her sex permeated my senses. She walked back into the bedroom. I heard the wall safe slam shut, and the creaking of the mattress as she lay back down. “Come!” she barked.

I found her in the bed, with her legs parted wide again. I immediately climbed into bed, and began to give her service. As I began, slowly and gently, she told me how the remainder of the weekend would go.

<End Part 3>

 

<Part 4>

It was Sunday afternoon, some time. I lay in my cage, writing my lines, recalling how my loving Mistress seemed transformed by the gift I gave her on Friday night. The gift inspired a horny frenzy the likes of which I had never seen from her, followed by the most unusual punishment session she had ever delivered. My Mistress seemed somehow unfettered now. I had released something with that gift.

I was terrified… perhaps horrified… but yet, I knew that I could still trust her, somehow. Nothing she had done was outside the scope of my most secret fantasies. Sure, I had hinted … but I was afraid. I could never tell her these things. How could she know? How could she act with such bravado? How could be so sure she was right?

As I wrote my lines, I realized, she was EXACTLY right. This was not a punishment she was inflicting, though I had never suffered so. This was a catharsis. She was purging the secrets, the half-truths, and the fears away.

I lay on my forearms, leaving bloody marks on the cold cement as I continued writing. Her actions of Friday night, will remain forever imprinted in my memory.

---

I hunched on all fours, between her legs. I teased her, licking her inner thigh… “Slave, you are going to have the most unpleasant weekend of your life.” My breath caught, as I paused, my nose very close to her labia. “Yes, Mistress.” I said softly. (What the hell?!?) She continued. “After you please me here, you will go down to the dungeon, and set up the video camera”. We had done this before. The camera was wired to a TV in the bedroom. Occasionally, Mistress would secure me downstairs, and leave me for a few hours, while she watched from the comfort of the bed.

“You’ll then choose the most painful toys we have - the ones you hate the most, and set them out for me.” I shuddered. “I know what you fear, boy. If you leave ANY of them out, I will know, and it will go worse for you!” I knew she was right. “You’ll blindfold yourself, and secure yourself to the cross, facing the camera.”

She went on. “When I come down, I’m going to give you the most painful session you’ve ever had. I will torture you until you cry... Until you beg me to stop... Until you scream your safeword. The safeword you’ve given up forever – your anniversary gift to me. I’ll ignore your cries, and give you more pain.” My heart was pounding. I was shaking, as I knelt between her legs. I looked up at her, to beg for mercy. She slapped me. HARD. She had never slapped my face before. I stammered, “.. but Mis..” SLAP. “DID I SAY STOP, BOY?!?” She grabbed my hair, and shoved my face into her pussy. She was soaked and dripping. Softly, “I love you, slave… but you’ve given me your safeword. I have to prove to you that it’s gone forever.” I whimpered again, and began to weep, but continued to service her. She was deadly serious. Still, my cock betrayed me, straining in its tube.

Mistress came, and came again. I had never seen her so horny like this. Her momentary gentleness forgotten, she pulled my head away, forcefully. “Strap-on!” she yelled. “Big one!” I expected this, since she had put me in the Neo. I stumbled from the bed, and put on the waist strap, and inserted her largest dildo. It was much larger and thicker than my own modest five and a half inches. The strap-on protruded lewdly in front of me, sitting flush against my Neosteel. She would feel this monster stretching her pussy. I would feel nothing. I hated this. I felt so inadequate.

The enormous dildo rubbed across her sex, while reaching for some lube. She hurriedly rubbed her hand in her own juices, and stroked the silicone cock, wetting it. She was positively dripping, her eyes round as saucers and glazed! She slapped the lube out of my hand, grabbed the dildo with one hand, and my ass with the other. She drove the dildo home in one thrust. She screamed. She had never taken it so fast. Her eyes rolled back unseeing, as she thrust her hips upward unto this monster silicone cock. I needed to do nothing. She was insane with lust, flailing beneath me.

I looked down at my goddess. She was once anorexic in her teens, though now fully recovered. A tri-athlete - she runs, lifts weights, swims and bikes. She eats VERY well. I make sure of that. She is in perfect health, but she’s still skinny as a rail. Her muscled, petite body appears chiseled from granite. Her abs are hard, her breasts, nearly non-existent above her rib cage. Oh, how I love her body! She discussed implants, once, and I begged her not to. As she arched her back in the throws of ecstasy, her tiny tits flattened against her thin torso. Only her large nipples, hard as marbles, betrayed that she had breasts at all. Oh my God! How her hard body turned me on! Pre-cum dribbled copiously out of my Neosteel as she rode the enormous dildo. I was nearly insane with lust, but could do nothing to sate my own condition. I could only experience pleasure through my wife. There she was, a “dignified” college professor, screaming ‘Fuck me! Fuck me with your big cock, slave!” I didn’t need to be told twice, I drove it home, hard and fast.

Mistress came, screeching, clawing and flailing. Thank god we live in the country!. She grabbed my shoulders to stop me, and caught her breath. We both lay there, glowing with sweat and breathing hard. After a moment, she pushed me off her. With a hostile tone, she barked “Downstairs. I told you what to do!” I reluctantly stepped away and went to the basement, and started pulling out her toys. The huge dildo bobbed obscenely in front of me as I got them out. She hadn’t said to take it off, so I left it. I pulled out all my most hated toys – the crop, the piercing needles, the vicious nipple clamps. I set them out beside the cross, took my hood and stepped up to the cross. I secured the hood, then felt around until I found the hooks, and snapped myself in, first my feet, then my arms. I struggled one-handed to snap the last clip. I had devised it so that once clipped, I could not release it without help. I stood, blind and helpless in my Neosteel chastity belt, with the large dildo bobbing in front of me. My Mistress was upstairs, probably watching me on the video camera. And so I waited. The smell of her sex, wiped on my face, and wafting from the dildo, drying between my legs. Pre-cum had dribbled down my inner thigh, and was drying there, sticky.

<End Part 4>

 

<Part 5>

I was writing the last page of my lines, now. My relief was building that I’d soon be out of here. My body was in agony. My elbows were chaffed and bleeding from leaning on them on the concrete floor. Through the one basement window on the far side of the room, I could tell the sun was setting. That meant I had been in this tiny cage for nearly 48 hours. I couldn’t believe she really left me in here! I had screamed and yelled for help. I called my safeword. Nothing. I should have expected as much. I had given up my safeword, just two nights ago. My Mistress was good to her word. She had promised me the worst weekend of my life. She had promised me pain and suffering. Nothing could have prepared me for this. I had no idea how cruel she could be.

I lay there, suffering, as I wrote my last lines. I was nearly in tears from the pain, but yet, I was also feeling something else. Pride. She was so strong and perceptive. She had given me everything I secretly fantasized about. I remembered the many times, as we lay in each others arms chatting, I would share my dreams and fantasies. Oh, I had shared, yes, but not ALL of them. I had some which I thought she could never understand. Fantasies I never thought could come true. Not in a million years. Perhaps they were even fantasies I couldn’t really admit to myself.

But here it was… She had become a completely merciless Domme, as my bleeding elbows could testify. I was stunned, but also enthralled. She was forcing something I never expected. Would she do the rest? Could she? If she did… could I endure? Did I really WANT this?

I guess I had no choice. The last 48 hours had made it very clear that I no longer had any say in the matter. She was in charge. Perhaps my cock was betraying my last few secrets. It was hard in my tube again.

I thought back on that last hour, before she locked me here.

---

After what seemed like an eternity, I heard Mistress coming down the stairs to the basement. I couldn’t see her, of course, due to the leather hood I was wearing, but I heard the click of heels. I imagined the red pumps, as I stood there locked to the cross. “Are you ready, John?” she asked. Again, I was shocked that she had reverted to an old title. She hadn’t called me by my name in private since before we were married. It was always “Slave”, or “Boy”. My given name coming from her lips sounded odd, and made this already strange situation even more surreal. Softly, “Yes, Mistress”.

“This is going to be very hard on both of us, slave”, she admitted. “You’ve given up your safeword for all time. It’s an amazing anniversary gift to me. One that I appreciate and love you for… but now I have to show you that I accept it.” My breathing grew short.

I heard the click of her heels as she stepped to the toy table beside the cross. “ Hmm.. Very good! You put out everything I wanted, boy. Everything you hate the most!” I heard her approach. A moment later, I felt a biting sting, as she pinched my nipple. A clamp went on a moment later. Ugh. It was one of the nasty red ones. I bit down hard, and tried to breathe through the pain.

I felt her tugging down below. The large silicone dildo still bobbed in front of me, held by a dildo harness, suspended around my Neosteel belt. It is larger than I could ever be. She removed the dildo and harness. “I have good news, and bad news,” she began, “The good news is that your session of pain will be brief. I have something else in mind for you.” I listened intently, confused. She had promised great suffering, not an hour ago. She had been acting VERY strangely tonight. “The bad news is that what we lack in duration, we will make up for in intensity.”

“OWWWW!” She was squeezing the nipple clamp, which already hurt a good deal, even harder! She pinched it together brutally, and then twisted. “Ahhh. Uhh. Oww.. uhh. Sheeshhh… Stop. .Ow. Stop.. Jeezus fuck! Stop. RED! RED.” I was flailing on the cross. It felt like she was tearing my nipple from my chest. I had never felt such pain. “Mistress… Please..OW.. Please!!!” She continued. “Fuck… aggg.. fuh..fuh…STOP!!!!”

She held the clamp firm, but stopped twisting. “BOY! Did you give ME and ORDER?!?”

She squeezed and twisted again. “AHHHH! Noooooo.. nununooooo Miss.. AHH!. No Mistress! Sorry Mistress!”

“That’s better.” She let go. I slumped. I hadn’t realized I was up on my toes, my body pulling on the cross trying desperately to get away from her. My chest was heaving. I felt sweat rolling down my brow under the leather mask.

“Slave, I’m causing you no permanent harm, though your nipples will hurt for a few days. You may even bruise… Now, I heard you safeword there.. you tried to make me stop. Did I?”

“No, Mistress,” I replied.. “Repeat after me, slave…. ‘I have no safeword.’” I caught my breath, and hung my head. Quietly… “I have no safeword, Mistress”. “Good,” she said. That brief punishment on your left nipple was ‘one’. I’m moving to your right now. I’m planning to go back and forth at LEAST ten times.”

My head snapped up. Did she say TEN?!?… “AHHHHHH!!!!!!!!”

I really don’t remember the details as she counted up. I know she alternated between my nipples. They grew infinitely more sensitive as she went back and forth. I remember screaming, swearing. I demanded she let me down. I even called her a “fucking bitch”. I was horrified that I said that. She took it in stride. I spent much of the remainder of the punishment apologizing.. I remember screaming “I’m sorry, I’m sorry”, and ultimately melting down into tears while she continued her assault on my nipples. Each time she paused, she had me repeat “I have no safeword.” It wasn’t a conscious thing, but I stopped calling “Red”. Inside 30 minutes, she had broken my conditioning to use my safeword while she was punishing me.

Finally, I was losing it. I was no longer weeping. I was blubbering and hyperventilating. “Please! I begged, enough! Please stop!” I felt snot running down my face, and tears flowing down my cheeks . I had never felt such pain. She stopped, for a moment. I felt her hand rubbing against the raw flesh of my right nipple. “Oh, I don’t want to stop, boy. I want you to ask me for something”.. She squeezed my nipple. “Anything!” I screamed. I SO wanted her to stop. She had never punished me like this. This was WAY beyond anything I’d experienced before.

Her hand grew gentle. She reached up and removed the leather mask from my face. My eyes came into focus. Her face was inches from mine, looking in my eyes. “Anything?” she asked.

<End Part 5>

 

<Part 6>

I admit it. I was broken. She had never tortured me so mercilessly. In desperation, I replied “Anything!” I just wanted her to STOP. My nipples were in agony.

“Slave, it’s time I made a little confession to you,” she said. “I’ve been monitoring what you surf on the web.” What? Huh? I was confused. I’m a computer professional. It’s my job. There was no way! My computer has a locking screen saver, which I always use, hard drive encryption, and bios passwords for booting. I’d be impressed if a professional hacker could get into that thing!. She has a Mac in her office. She’s an artist, for Christ’s sake! I don’t think she even knows HOW to log into a linux system! “How,” I began…. She interrupted.

“Our router, silly. Remember you gave me the password for it one day, just in case? You and your silly ‘In case I get hit by a bus’ emails you send me. I do love you for thinking of me like that. Anyway, you gave me the password for the router… Like I know ANYTHING about these things! Still, I wanted to at least try connecting, since you had made the effort to share the password. I know it disappoints you that I’m so hopeless on computers. Well, maybe I’m not so hopeless after all! I was intrigued when I found the parental controls – and the feature that allowed me to monitor all the URLs that we at look at.”

My felt a lump forming in my throat. I felt violated, but my mind also reeled… What did she see!?!

“When you first introduced me to FemDom while we were dating, you shared a few books and articles. I read them, and honestly, I never let you know how MUCH it all turned me on. I devoured all the stuff you gave me, and surfed the web for more. I was reading a lot of FemDom stuff pretty regularly. I got turned on by some things that you had never mentioned to me. And then I ran into all the URLs YOU were surfing Oh my god!”

I fidgeted, still lashed to the cross. My nipples were throbbing in agony. I looked down at them as she spoke. They were bright red, swollen, and purpling with bruises.

“Well, I read and I read. One thing came up again and again. You never mentioned it as one of your fantasies, but it appears you couldn’t read enough about it.” The funny thing is… as I read those articles, I got turned on too…. WAY turned on! To think, three years ago I had never even HEARD of the term ‘Cuckholding!’”

I was stunned. We were NOT having this conversation. Oh my god!. I was speechless. We were NOT….

She continued. “At first, I felt horrible… the thought of being turned on by another man. I mean, I love YOU. I married YOU! Still, my fantasies ran wild….”

My heart beat powerfully in my chest. I couldn’t believe this was happening. I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out. She was on a roll, anyway….

“…Every story… every posting about cuckholding. I couldn’t get enough of it… and honey, it looks like YOU couldn’t either!. You must have read hundreds of stories… and I read them too.. Dommes teasing their subs about their little dicks… Dommes finding Real Men, hung like horses… Still, I never said anything to you. I was getting IMMENSELY turned on by this, but it felt like too much. I made a million excuses not to bring this up… probably the same ones YOU did. It just seemed… I don’t know…. ‘wrong’.”

“And then, that day in the sex toy shop, you made that comment – ‘Do we need one, for when you want to feel a REAL man?’ - You pointed me to the strap on dildos… the big ones. That’s when we bought this.” She held up the enormous dildo and harness. The one I had used, a few hours ago, to bring her to multiple screaming orgasms. The scratches from her fingernails still decorated my chest and back.

“It seemed perfect. We could pretend I was being fucked by someone else, without being unfaithful… I love you, slave, but let’s face it, you’re cock is NOT very big. Not like THIS! “ She hefted the huge dildo.. “I felt awful. I fantasized about other men.. but still, you were the one that offered this… you fed the fantasy. I wouldn’t have brought it up, if you hadn’t suggested it.”

“You don’t know the look on your face – the first time we used it. I was in heaven. I had never climaxed as hard as this thing made me cum. When I came down from it, I was worried! I thought you’d be embarrassed, or angry. You weren’t. You looked, honestly…. Proud… proud that I could feel a big cock, and you could please me like you never had before. You HAD to see how much I loved it.. It was pretty obvious! And there you were, left without release. You didn’t beg. You didn’t ask to cum. You cuddled up to me, smiling. You seemed completely satisfied when we used that huge dildo. It was as if my orgasms satisfied YOU too. The gallons of pre-cum you dribbled out your Neosteel confirmed to me you were not turned off by it. ..And honestly, leaving you hanging like that… without release… made me even hotter.”

I still lacked words. She was so passionate as she spoke. She loved this. I had rarely seen her so animated… and she was right. I loved fucking her with that dildo. I had to admit it.

“Remember the times, early in our relationship, when we talked about our fantasies? You confided what a HOT fantasy it was to be locked longer and longer… that you hated the let-down after cumming. Well, you know I’ve never let you ask how long you’d be locked between releases. So I stretched it. I locked you for two months a few times.. then three… you didn’t complain or beg for release, all the while fucking me with that big silicone dick. If anything, you became more submissive, and an even better lover. I never had complaints about your lovemaking before we got that dildo, but now… you’re a god!.”

I blushed at the complement, but this was all happening too fast. I couldn’t keep up. I could think of nothing to say. I was terrified where this was going.

“Well, you haven’t talked about that much, since you’ve been belted 24/7, but I know what you’ve been reading on the web. You read a LOT of stories about slaves who were locked up forever… with no chance of orgasm.. ever!.…. A LOT….” She suddenly looked more commanding. More in charge.

My knees literally buckled. I was hanging by my arms on the cross. I was shaking my head. No.. no… no…..oh no..

<End Part 6>

 

<Part 7>

I was still locked to the cross. After a brutal session of punishment, Mistress had gotten me to agree to make an unspecified request…. “Anything!” I had begged, so desperate for the punishment to end. She didn’t make her demand immediately known. Instead, Mistress had revealed that she had found all the web sites and stories I had been reading.. the stories about cuckholding… the stories about permanent chastity, without hope of orgasm. She was excited like I had never seen her, and just tonight, I had given up my safeword forever. The implications were staggering. My knees had literally buckled in fear, as she went on…

“Slave, how many times did I let you cum in the last year?”

I paused. I wasn’t sure. We had sex all the time. Sure, it’s been three months since my last release, but before that? I tried to remember.

“I’ll tell you, since you’re struggling with the math. FIVE. You came FIVE times in the last year.”

I literally gasped. I knew it wasn’t many, but five? I hadn’t really thought about it….

“Slave, did you enjoy those five orgasms?” “Of Course, Mistress!” I shot back immediately. “Are you sure?” I looked at her confused. “Um. Yes, Mistress”.

Where the fuck was THIS going, now? She had my emotions running all over. I was getting so confused.

“Slave, when’s the last time I let you cum inside me?”

I was embarrassed. I had no idea. We used the dildo so much… I thought it was… no, not that time… I couldn’t think with her asking all these questions! One minute cuckholding, then permanent chastity, now she wants to know when I came inside her? What the hell?!?

“I’ll tell you, again, slave. It was 14 months ago.” I stared blankly. No way! “Don’t look so shocked, boy. Now, you said you enjoyed those five orgasms. Really? Did you really?”

Again, I stared blankly. Of course I had. I nodded… but I was no longer so sure. “You’re just not getting it, are you slave? Those were ruined orgasms. You shot twice while I was putting clamps on your dick…once when I was teasing your balls with a flogger, and twice when I was edging you over and over. I stopped touching you seconds before, and you just squirted on yourself, while you thrust your hips in the air. You had five orgasms last year, slave, all ruined, and you haven’t penetrated me for over a year.”

I stood slack jawed. Our sex life is amazing. I wouldn’t trade it for the world. Is that what really happened? I just…. Never thought of it that way….

“Do you remember what you wrote in the anniversary card you gave me tonight? Let me remind you…”

Dear Allyson,
Thank you for the best year of my life. Finding you was the best thing that
ever happened to me. I’m so lucky to be your slave. Every year I go deeper
into submission with you, and I couldn’t be happier. I want you to take it
further and further. You’re such a wonderful person. You deserve better
than me. I’ll never understand how I got so lucky, or why. I want you to be
happy - to have what you need, even if I can’t give it.
I’ll love you forever,
Your devoted boy and slave,
John

“So, five orgasms, all ruined, was the best year of your life… and you want me to have ‘what I need’, even if you can’t give it. I know what you’re asking for here, John… and you’re going to get it”.

I hung my head. I just couldn’t believe any of this. She knew all my darkest secrets… the ones I was too afraid to share.

“So, slave, here is how it will be…” I could tell by the tone of her voice. This was not a negotiation. “You will beg me to cuckhold you.” I blanched… she couldn’t be serious.

She added. “Do you remember your vow to me?” My mind blanked for a moment… “Don’t show me that blank face, boy. Your vow! … When you proposed!” My eyes grew wide as I looked at her. “I remember it well boy… You said. ‘Every orgasm for the rest of my life will be at your whim… whether once per day, or never again’”

My heart pounded in my chest. Mistress gave her next demand. “You will BEG me to lock you forever.” Mistress stood there silently. I didn’t know what to say. Suddenly, she reached to the bottom of my Neosteel again. “Your little dickie gives you away, again, slave.” She smeared the dripping pre-cum across my lips.

“Boy, you promised me control of your orgasms the day you proposed to me, and even hinted that you wanted to be left locked without relief… maybe forever. For our anniversary, you gave up the right to ever safeword again, and left me in total control of this relationship. All the smut you surf on the web indicates you want to be cuckholded, and locked up without hope of orgasm ever again, and you pretty much begged for that in your anniversary card, too.. We’ve always been honest with each other, but you were afraid to tell me these things. Well, I KNOW what you want, boy, and I’m NOT afraid. I have courage enough for both of us! I‘m going to make your dreams come true!”

I stood there in chains, my body in agony. It was the evening of my third wedding anniversary. I had expected this to be one of the most satisfying nights of my life… instead, it was the most devastating. I could not resist. She had my promises, and I loved her too much to rebel. I hung my head in defeat.

“I have a task for you. It will make this easier.” She released my shackles, and guided me to the small cage on the floor. I crawled into it, as I had many times before… but this time, I sensed it was different. I looked up at her longingly. She wore only a silky drape over her shoulders, covering her breasts, and her red heels – my favorites. She was gorgeous.

“Here, slave”, she said, handing me a notebook and pens. The notebook was full of lined paper, and probably ½ inch thick.. I took the notebook as I lay on the floor, and she locked the cage behind me. I sat confused for a moment. She walked to the base of the stairs. I saw that she had brought down a dozen water bottles on a flat, when she came down the stairs. . She carried the flat over, and set them just outside the cage. She stood over me, outside the cage. I followed her gorgeous legs up past her perfect pussy, glistening. She was excited. I looked higher, past her flat tummy… her small and perfect breasts seductively hidden from me.. to her face. She was smiling, gently.

Kindly, she said, “You’re going to beg, while conditioning yourself to accept these things you fear. Please open to the first page in the notebook, and write what I tell you. Write neat, and write small. I want this to fit on the first two lines.” I looked at her puzzled for a moment, and opened the book. I uncapped the pen, as I lay on my side in the cage, ready to write. “Write this”, she said:

“Mistress, I don’t ever wish to cum again with my worthless little dick. Please
fuck real men with big cocks, and make me lick their cum from your pussy.”

I looked in horror at what I had written, and then at her… “That is your fantasy, slave, and mine too. I’m ready to accept it. Now it’s time for you to do the same. Write it for me.. again and again. I want every line of that book filled with those two sentences. I want it neat, and legible. You won’t get out of that cage until that book is filled from front to back – every line, and I have approved it.”

I was in the cage, shaking my head… No, no, no….

With that, she reached over the cage and turned on the single light bulb that hung there, and flicked on a space heater beside the cage. She strode to the stairs. I watched her perfect ass wiggle as she walked. She paused at the base of the steps.

“I’m serious boy. You’re not getting out of that cage until the book is full. I’ll call you in sick to work next week, if I have to. And don’t think about destroying that book, or I’ll replace it with TWO!”

She paused for a moment. I looked at her, dumfounded. She was running so hot and cold. It was terrifying! Before I could open my mouth to say something…

“The good news is, I MAY..” she paused for emphasis “.. MAY let you cum again, some day. But here is what will happen first. I will feel a big.. no.. a HUGE cock inside me, first… and after that real man has fucked me well, you will lick me clean. Until that happens, I GUARANTEE you that you will not have any more orgasms, ruined or otherwise.”

I began to protest…. She climbed the stairs, and flicked off the lights. The only light was now the bare bulb above my cage. I heard a click, as she shut the door at the top of the stairs, ignoring my screams.

I called out to her for a while. I screamed. I looked at the video camera, which was pointed at the cage, knowing that she was watching. I begged…. I pleaded… I threatened… I tried my now useless safeword.. I tried to negotiate… She did not respond. Then it came to me. I was probably turning her on. She was probably masturbating as she watched me. I got angry. I curled up in a ball, furious. I waited… sure she would come to let me out… and I waited. My anger and frustration slowly turned to grief. I began to cry and fell asleep.

I woke in the morning, still in the cage. I was already in agony. My body hurt. I stuck my legs out and tried to stretch. I called to her again. Nothing. I saw the water bottles. I opened one, and took a drink. My mouth was very dry. My stomach grumbled. I called to her for probably another hour, until at last, I was broken. I did not know it at the time, but Mistress taped it all. It was 11:17 on Saturday morning, when I opened the book, and started to write….

“Mistress, I don’t ever wish to cum again with my worthless little dick. Please
fuck real men with big cocks, and make me lick their cum from your pussy.”

Again and again….

<End Part 7>

 

OK, I'm being a nice guy, and blasting these last installments out. Here, at long last, is the final chapter. Enjoy.

<Part 8>
It was Sunday night. I had been in this damn cage for at least 48 hours, probably longer. My body was beyond agony. I was light headed – I hadn’t eaten in two days. My elbows and knees were raw from hunching on all fours. My nipples, abused two days ago beyond all description, still had a dull ache, and were purple and red with vicious bruising. My hand ached, as I finished writing my last line in the book.

“Mistress, I don’t ever wish to cum again with my worthless little dick. Please
fuck real men with big cocks, and make me lick their cum from your pussy.”

I closed the book, and flopped on my side. I looked at the camera, and tried to call to Mistress.. “Mhhhhehhhh”. I had no voice… “Mistress..” I croaked.

I heard an immediate thump upstairs, and rapid footsteps. I had screamed, begged and cajoled to get out of this cage two days before, and went unheeded. Somehow, she knew the task was now done. I heard the cellar door open, and the room brightened as she turned on the overhead lights. She tossed some things on the floor at the base of the stairs, as she rushed to the cage.

“Are you done, John?” The concern in her voice was evident. It was also evident since she once again had called me by my given name, and not “Slave”.

“Yes Mistress,” I croaked. I painfully passed the book through the bars. She flipped through it cursorily, and tossed it on the floor, like old rubbish. It was forgotten before it left her hand. I jumped at the sound of it… my efforts of two days suffering, cast aside. I grimaced when I realized the book had landed in my puddle of urine, beside the cage.

She opened the cage in a blur. While I struggled to crawl out, she ran to the pile she had brought down the steps, and produced a folding chair. She set it up beside the cage, and helped me sit. She ran back to the pile, and grabbed a blanket. She wrapped it around my shoulders. She knelt before me, and smothered me with kisses. I was gross, and filthy, and bloody. The room stunk of urine and shit. Hell, >I< stunk of it… and she held my head to her chest and hugged me, hard. We didn’t speak a word, at first. I was still a little in shock. She left me for just a moment more to get the last thing she had brought downstairs. It was a thermos cup of my favorite – hot spearmint tea. She helped me hold it to my lips, as I sipped it, and let it warm my throat and bones.

“Are we OK?” she asked.

I looked at her. My Goddess. She knew me better than I knew myself. She put me through this, not as a punishment, but to help me overcome my own fears.. my own terror at the fantasies that I held deepest inside me. She had locked me in this cage for 48 hours, and she had HELPED me by doing it.

“Mistress, you were right - right to do this, and right about ME. You know exactly what I want. I’ve been too afraid to say it. Too afraid to ask,” I couldn’t look her in the eye. Tears began to run down my cheeks. I sipped more tea, and tried to sit more upright in the chair. My body had been curled for two days on a cold cement floor. It would take some time before I could stand.

“Mistress, it really DOES turn me on to think of being locked up forever, without ever cumming again. I’m terrified of it, but I WANT it. I can’t explain it. I could never have said so if you hadn’t done this… Mistress,” I paused again, not out of fear, but to draw my breath, and make my request as sincere as possible. I sat up as straight as I could, and looked her in the eye. “Mistress, I don’t ever want to cum again. Please keep me locked. Keep me denied. I get more satisfaction being locked for you, than I do from selfish orgasms. Please do this for me. Make me your perfect slave.”

Mistress beamed a smile at me, as a tear rolled down her cheek. “I’m so happy you forgive me. This was harder on me than you’ll ever know.” She paused. We both sat in silence for a moment. I sipped more tea. She raised it first… I couldn’t start this conversation. “And the rest?….”

This one was harder. I admit it… but I felt it just the same. “Mistress. This will be incredibly hard for me… but I fantasized about it.. and I know it is ABSOLUTELY what you want. You are so strong!...” I choked up… it took me a moment to gather myself. She continued to kneel beside me, holding me close.

“Mistress, we both want this. I’m struggling to admit it to myself. I need your help. I WANT …”, Damn this was hard to say out loud… “Mistress, I want you to have sex with another man. I WANT you to feel his huge cock.. and see me looking on with envy.” I paused. My breath was short. I took a few deep breaths, and forced myself to continue. “I want to please you. I want to look up at you, and see the look in your eyes, as I lick … I lick his seed from you. I want to hold you, and love you, and make you know that it’s OK. It’s perfect. It’s what we both want.”

Mistress said nothing. She brought her face close to mine, holding my head in her hands. She kissed me. She held her forehead to mine, both of us smiling, with tears of joy on our faces.

Slowly, she got me to my feet, and helped me up the stairs. She bathed me, bandaged my wounds, put me in warm clothes, and tucked me into bed. She made me broth until my stomach could handle solid food, and fed me one spoon at a time, sitting in the bed beside me. She had never pampered me so. . She called both our employers, and let them know we’d be out sick on Monday. She cuddled beside me, kissing me again and again, whispering sweet nothings, as I began to doze off. I was totally and completely in love. I felt blessed that this woman had married me, three years ago.

I fell asleep in her arms. I heard one last whisper. It may have been a dream, I don’t know. “… I never gave you YOUR anniversary present. Tomorrow will be a wonderful day for you.”

The End
<End Part 8>