I Follow Her Lead

Photo: Depositphotos

Authors note: This is not an erotic tale, though it was a very erotic experience for me. It is merely a recounting of a moment in time that celebrates the wondrous complexity and never-ending ability of the women we love, to amaze us.


It’s been a while since we’ve been able to get away for a night of play, and so when She suggested we go to ‘The Club’ last night I was all in! I mean, who doesn’t like a little naughty Thursday before a Good Friday?

I was wearing my extra small chastity cage because I enjoy the very intense reminder that on nights like this, my cock is not that which will bring the love of my life and my best friend, her pleasure. The shiny steel dome encapsulating my manhood and thus my psyche, a welcome companion as I eagerly place all of my focus upon Her.

I watched her slip into that short skirt, listening to the leather whispering promises of unadulterated pleasure as it assured her that all eyes would be drawn to her that night. That those virile men would be no more able to resist her allure than they could the air they breathe, and myself would be amongst them. The corset followed, the soft satin belying the strength of the boning hidden within, accentuating her in all the right ways, pushing her breasts together and presenting them in all their magnificent splendor. And all the while, the silver key sparkled in the light, nestled between them, proudly proclaiming my chaste devotion to Her.

She was stunning, and as her tiny fingers wrapped around my arm as we walked together into the club, I felt my heart quicken in anticipation and swell with pride at being her cuckold.

The DJ kept the beat thumping, the dance floor was packed, and sure enough, the men were drawn to her. One after another would watch her move as she danced and ground herself into me, teasing my cock with what it would be denied that night. One after another would make their way over, and do their thing, moving their bodies with a rhythm only Black men possess. Yes, Black men, for it would seem on a primal level all others knew they would be turned away. And one after another, she would acknowledge them with a smile, and then turn her attention back to me.

After a time we found ourselves in the playroom, where an attractive blonde woman was suspended in the air, her partner artfully adjusting the Shibari ropes while the room looked on. There were three St. Andrews Cross’ whose bases formed a circle and were leaned over on a slight angle fastened together at the top, and all three were occupied. As per the house rules we had removed our clothes and wore only towels and I adjusted mine as we sat/leaned against a padded knee wall to watch.

The sound of leather floggers and wooden paddles striking flesh, followed by muted gasps and moans flowed over us as we took in the sight.

“Are you worried someone will see your cage?” She asked me.

I nodded, feeling my cheeks redden at the thought, as ridiculous as that may seem since we were at a sex club after all.

She ran her hand lightly up the inside of my thigh making my dick twitch, and her fingers snuck under the towel to press against the steel. Her eyes lit up mischievously. “I wonder how it would look with you strapped to that cross…”

I shook my head. “I do too, but baby there’s no way I’m ready for that!”

She simply giggled at my discomfort and we returned our attention to the young lady in front of us as her ass grew increasingly red from the flogger in her boyfriend’s hand. Then we watched as another young lady pushed him up in between two of the crosses so he was beside his girl, yanked his towel off, and proceed to whip them both. It was fucking hot, and as I looked around at the crowd mingling and chatting but all watching as were we, the kinky energy in the room was undeniable.

We then strolled through the next room, watching couples, several three and foursomes, and one very busy gang bang and I turned to her. “Don’t you want someone to play with?”

Looking around the room, she slowly shook her head and then gave me her smile. The one that tells me she’s feeling it. “No baby, tonight I want you.”

I raised my eyebrows in surprise. “But you were the one who suggested we come tonight?”

“I know”—she stepped in close, draped her arms over my shoulders, and looked up into my eyes—”but a girl can always change her mind, and tonight I want to play with you. Let’s go back to the hotel.” She brought her lips to my ears, her breath warm and moist on my skin. “I’m not unlocking you by the way.” Stepping back, she pursed her lips in that wicked grin that so utterly captivated me the first time I met her. Oh yeah, she was feeling it!

We went back to the room and it was… mind-blowing, but I won’t mention everything we did. Hey, a guy has to have some secrets right? I won’t mention her standing over me in the tub wearing that leather skirt and giving me a golden shower, or that there may have been a very large dildo used later and that I’ve got a delightfully tender ass today. And I won’t mention her spooning me and whispering in my ear to ‘cum baby, cum for me’ as she pressed her fingers on top of mine, guiding me as together we pressed on the cage while she made my prostate sing…


It was a late night, we didn’t sleep well because the hotel bed was shit, and when we got home today we went straight to bed. I cuddled up to this amazing woman I am so unbelievably fortunate to be able to share my life with and pressed my cage against her, the heat of her body seeping through the steel and into my cock.

For me, a cage cum is similar to a ruined orgasm, and as such, I was still running as hot as I was last night, and the night before that (I’ve been locked for a while). My body thrummed with desire even as feeling her body next to mine soothed me. I kissed her neck and ran my hands gently up and down her side, feeling her relax as sleep beckoned her into its peaceful embrace.

I thought about how I was a fifty-year-old man, had been married for 24 years and been with her forever, and yet here I lay running hotter for her now, than the day we met. I considered all the kinky fun times like last night, and all the incredible moments we shared as she found pleasure in another mans arms. I felt like the luckiest man alive. My absolute faith in her love for me and my love and devotion to her, our trust in each other, it was all possible because she had taken my hand and allowed me to walk this path in life with her.

I couldn’t help myself, I had to tell her how I felt even if she had already drifted off. “You’re my everything baby.”

I guess she hadn’t quite gone over yet because she answered in a sleepy whisper and shifted her ass so it pressed harder against me. “And you’re mine.”

Do I Miss Her?


When I’m away without her for instance? Yes, of course. That hasn’t changed in all the years we’ve been together. What did change for me is how much I miss her in my daily life, after choosing chastity.

Choosing chastity, what, wait? How can that be a choice? Isn’t it supposed to be ‘forced’ on you by a dominant and cruel lover intent on enslaving you, and in some cases foregoing your locked dick in pursuit of new exciting ones? Yeah, well if you believe that, you can go back to wanking to chastity/cuckold porn and read no further.

The reality is, that chastity is a choice. It is a choice by you to fully and completely commit to the one you love in ways you cannot imagine before you close that lock. It is a choice by her to accept your commitment to her and all it entails, for you each must find your way in this for it to be both healthy and beneficial to your relationship.

The years-long journey to where we are today is a story unto itself and not for this short post, but I will say that choosing chastity forever changed my life and my relationship with the most important person in it, for the better.

That’s all fine and good, and you’ll read all of the above a thousand different ways from a thousand guys like me. However, if there is one aspect that I found to be most serendipitous, it would be the unrelenting desire to be with her, from the moment I leave her, every single time I do.

It’s not that I ever lost the excitement of seeing her at the end of every workday, or the desire to spend my free time with her. After all, loving and cherishing her has absolutely zero to do with chastity. What did change over time was those early days ‘firsts’. You know them, and they are intoxicating, and in all long-term relationships, they become elusive. That electric first touch as you hold hands, that quickening of your pulse as your eyes meet across a crowded room, the heat that sears your soul as she does nothing more than kiss your cheek.

It has no reflection on the love that is shared, it is simply human nature. It is why couples buy sex toys, and costumes for the bedroom, why they watch porn together (or alone), and why they often don’t feel ‘in the mood’. It just is. Chastity though, changed all of that for me.

At first, and for selfish reasons, I could think of little beyond when the cage would next come off, and when I could have sexual release and think straight once again. Though we were having more sex than ever before, as time went on we reached a point where I was no longer allowed ‘free play’. I experienced a profound acceptance that I no longer had control over my most basic of manly functions, and my thinking changed. Once I could see past my immediate selfish desires, I instead found greater pleasure in appreciating what was there all along. Her.

The ache in my loins never ceased, but being denied sexual release has forced my entire being to seek pleasure elsewhere. In the little things, in all that I once took for granted, and they all feel like ‘firsts’ every time. The once assumed touch of her hand, now sears my flesh in wanton response. Catching her eye across the room, both of us knowing I am thinking only of her, brings me joy and excites me because she accepts it and me. Where my response though heartfelt was automatic, my spine now melts as her warm moist breath whispers those three magic words ‘I love you’ in my ear.

I wait all day to come home and inhale her scent as I press my lips to the back of her neck as I say hello, and her presence completes me. I lightly touch her waist, her arm, kiss her cheek as I go by, for no reason other than showing her how much I love her, and her enjoying that completes me. I wait all evening for the moment we go to bed and I can press myself against her hot naked ass and feel the heat of her flesh burning into my caged need as we spoon, and though most nights it will not lead to anything more, she nonetheless completes me. I long for the weekend and lazy mornings with my face between her legs and rubbing lotion on her feet as she relaxes, and holding her trembling body as the Hitachi works its ‘magic’. I long for the still of the night, listening to her quiet breathing and feeling the gentle beating of her heart as I hold her tight and swear to all that is right and just in the world that I will never, ever, let her go or take one moment with her for granted again. In all things Her, she completes me.

So, do I miss Her? You’re damn right I do.

New Release! Refuge

Trevor has only been dating Sophia for a short while and hasn’t yet made it much past first base. Though both are recently divorced and him more than ready to move on, she hasn’t wanted to rush things. With a big weekend planned of showing off his outdoor skills, Trevor is confident he will finally hit a home run.
He thought he had the best of gear, and the best of plans, until everything went horribly wrong. A wind-swept landscape can be cold and unforgiving, but it’s nothing compared to the chill of a pissed off city girl lost in the woods.
Desperate and defeated, they had given up all hope, until they meet Nelson. Tall, very dark, and handsome, and offering them refuge from the storm.

A short story by B.R. Saiph

Link: https://www.amazon.com/gp/aw/d/B09RVZ41BR/

Is It Angst?

Is it Angst? *

Is it angst when I am actually looking forward to the cuckolding experience?
This is unique to the individual for sure, but I myself would have to say yes. However, for me (now) it doesn’t hold any negative connotation.
For me, there are many aspects of the experience that reverberate the very strings of my soul as it unfolds each time.
In the beginning it was a brutal cacophony of discordant emotions as harsh reality slammed mercilessly into the foggy haze of something long anticipated but in my naivety not yet understood. The resulting and unexpected awakening of the ugly beast that lurks within us all, known as jealous insecurity, almost derailed our foray into the lifestyle before it had barely begun.
I wanted him to kiss her, I was angry that she kissed him back.
I wanted him to fuck her, I was hurt that she enjoyed it so much when he did.
I wanted him to take her away to somewhere she’d never been, I was crushed when I was left behind (if only for moments at a time)

Luckily for me, I have been blessed with an amazing woman to share this journey with. With her patient love and understanding the music changed. The harsh sounds were muted. The chaos was tamed. The thuggish paws of jealousy twanging like a simpleton on those strings morphed into dexterous digits delicately plucking each note in glorious syncopation with the rhythm of lust we both yearned to dance to.
The angst remains but now it is a beautiful thing.
When he kisses her, I want her to kiss him back like he’s never been kissed before.
When he fucks her, I yearn for her to let herself go and make primal noises that I could never elicit from her.
When he takes her away, I smile with joy, wishing her bon voyage on her trip around the world.

I crave the angst but now savor it like a fine wine, whereas I once gulped it down like a drunkard does cheap ale, oblivious to all the delightful undertones that are there waiting to be explored.
For me the angst is like Her finger nails lightly brushing over my naked skin, sending delicious shivers down my back. Those finger nails could draw blood, could exact pain but instead they deliver pleasure. I have learned to trust, to close my eyes and let go, and know that She will never hurt me and in doing so, let the music carry me away.

Angst can mean many things, but in the hands of a skillful cuckoldress, it is an elixir of love.


*From a reply I made to a post on ChastityMansion (modified).

What is Loctober?

 A word that once learned is forever etched into a chastity enthusiasts heart.  From the moment of our introduction, I’d found the thought of being locked for 31 days to be as equally deliciously terrifying as it was intriguing.

To be clear, in it’s purest form it entails the complete and total denial of ones manhood and all of it’s magnificent pleasures.

In the beginning, on Oct 1rst those were only words.

Our chastity play has evolved over the last few years since we started.  A few days here, graduating to a week or two there, interspersed with regular playtime and plenty of happy endings.  17 days was the record to beat and then we met our first bull.

Almost a year later locked 24/7 and I thought I knew what it meant to have lost control of my most prized possession.  Sure, we still enjoyed playtime but there was no ‘free’ play time for me.  I’d been put down hard (no pun intended) into my place.

For the first time in my life, I never had a say in when I could be erect, let alone have a big-O, and most certainly could not masturbate.

So when my darling wife told me, with a twinkle in her eye, that we were doing Loctober this year though my heart skipped in excited trepidation, I felt I was ready.


So what is Loctober then?

For me in the beginning it was just the knowledge that I was in for a long haul.  So, feeling that initial fear, for real in your gut that visceral twinge of fear of the unknown.  She was taking me into uncharted territory.  So self assured about it, so matter of fact, and if I truly wanted to play in this lifestyle with her, then I was along for the ride.  Assumed, just as it was assumed that it was perfectly natural for her to arrange a date or two keep her satisfied while I was kept under lock and key.

One would have thought being cuckolded on Day 13 would have put me over the edge but not quite.  It was an amazing hot experience, casually dressed with cage on under my clothes and sipping on a cold beer while watching another man gave my wife what I was denied.  If he only knew the whole story!  At the time it put me well into my sub-space but I’d no idea what the month still had in store for me.

When she’d first mentioned her plans for the month, I could picture those mornings alone in the spare bedroom, darkened and trying to sleep after a night shift.  The relentless want of simply having an erection, primal senses reacting to the knowledge She was close by.  Warm, wet, Her.

I guess foreshadowing is a bitch ‘cuz see on day 20, I almost lost my mind.  Waking that early morning knowing that the end was so far away that all I could do was endure, did nothing to ease my desperate need for release.  The pent-up energy making me want to scream but I couldn’t breath.  All the grinding and stifled moaning, curling into a ball and clenching my legs together so I could hump the cage between them in pathetic frustration, did nothing to bring relief.

I want to pause for a moment and draw focus to that last sad bit, as embarrassing as it all is.  Before this month I had thought I knew what suffering was.  That was until the moment I felt myself slipping away on the chaotic winds of agonizing sexual despair.  It’s power overwhelming me and causing me to momentarily lose my grip as it dragged me away.  Only in the last moment, pulling myself from it’s clutches to grasp hold of the hope for the end as distant as it seemed did I gain true understanding.  Of myself, my limits, and my strengths.

I think that was the peak, and I can’t begin to tell you how thankful I am that it’s behind me!

The Mrs researching PA piercings, our super sexy conversations about how it was ‘OK to live our life the way that worked for us’, the super charged physical connection as we lay together in bed touching, loving, being.  They have all been fantastically wonderful moments and I struggle to express the exuberant joy in their memory I’ll be forever left with when this is over.

I’d thought I knew what it was to ‘feel’ her as I held her, but as day turned to night and then to endless day it became so much more.  The heat from her loins as I pressed my nub into her naked bottom as we lay spooning would ignite an uncontrollable animal hunger in me. 

The smooth softness of her skin yielding willingly to my reverent touch, my fingers quivering with barely contained desperation, trying to be ‘cool’ and pretend the elephant was not in the room, was perhaps the most intense physical connection we’ve ever shared.

Quiet soft sounds, rustling sheets, warm skin against skin, muscles tensing, together.

The burning need in me quenched in the fires of her release.  Her stiffening, the soft moan, the tremble and the gasp as she found inner Nirvana, the transference from our heads to our toes was encompassing and complete.

As this month comes to an end so does an epic journey that until I’d done it, I had no idea I was born to make.  I’m still the same person and yet I’ve been forever changed.  I’ve walked the walk as they say.  That I’ve been blessed to have someone make this journey possible and then take my hand and join me, leaves me speechless.  I was never alone, She was always there.  In my darkest moments I had only to picture her and the key she so lovingly held.

The end draws nigh, and I know not what the future holds but the one thing I do know is I have no regrets.  I’m not just proud of myself, I’m proud of what we have achieved together.

I am humbled by this beautiful and amazing woman I share my life with, and all her wisdom, her love, and her wild carefree mischievous spirit.  That my being locked and denied brings us the pleasures in life we enjoy, well that’s for us.  Who knows, maybe it is for you too.  What are YOU doing next October?