A Word From The Author:

I just experienced an incredible Saturday night with @MrsBr_Saiph, one that was the culmination of many weeks of her firm and relentless masterful shaping of my psyche. It was so incredible (for me) that I want, no – I need to share it with everyone around me, but of course I can’t. So I hope you’ll humor me while I share it with you.

The problem is that it’s not easy to share, and I struggle with that when it comes to things like this. When I part the curtains and let others see the story within the story, it leaves me vulnerable. That’s the cost of sharing – vulnerability. As much as I want to show the positive and love-filled reality of the lifestyle I live, I cannot do that without allowing others a glimpse into my very private world. Personal moments that rock my world, that I just know will be forefront in my mind for years to come are just that, personal. Moments, that if I tried to explain them, most people would not only never understand, but would ridicule me for them. Moments that are beyond words that grip my soul and shape my devotion to the woman I love in ways that dreams are made of.

The funny thing is, for all my words and all my writing, I cannot find the words to describe how it made me feel then, or now. I only know it is powerful. While it is extremely likely it is yet just one more of the countless sexy games she has played with me over the years, this one is changing my perception of the world around me.

We each have our unique journey to make in the lifestyle but perhaps there are facets of this one that may ring true with you. It is in story form, for that is how I share, and how I relieve the mental pressure so to speak. It’s not necessarily ‘keep you on the edge of your seat’ writing, but this tale is the one I am living, and perhaps there is a version of it in which you are too.

~~~~~

The Tale

For weeks, upon weeks now, She had kept him locked and denied. For him, simple pleasures had become immense ones. The peaceful silence of the weekend early mornings accentuated by the soft sound of him suckling her toes, and that of his tongue ensuring her soles were thoroughly clean, had morphed from kinky treat to revered pleasure. Laying down the corner of the sheets on her side of the bed was no longer something he simply enjoyed. It had become mental foreplay for when he would (and never soon enough) be able to spoon with her and press his caged cock to her ass and feel the heat emanating from between her legs.

They hadn’t planned it, not as far as he knew. He had been locked 24/7 for years now, but his chastity was flexible. Life happened and there were situations and periods where he was free, like all the other macho-acting tradesmen he worked with and crushed after-work beers with, men who knew nothing of chastity and submission. This though, was different. It wasn’t immediately apparent, but rather it had crept up on him (them?) and then it became a thing.

As was their routine, she would often unlock him for some weekend sex. He was never permitted to cum, though he almost always did. The challenge, besides the obvious one of not cumming, was to last as long as possible. And, if he did cum, he was never allowed to spurt his mess inside her. That was for the bulls, even if they were wearing condoms at the time. If he used the words seed or cum, she would correct him. He’d had a vasectomy and allowed himself to be locked in chastity, so he didn’t get to use the words real men did. He didn’t have a cock like those other men, so he most certainly didn’t get to cum either. He got to make his little mess, and she never let him forget it. She would burrow into both his big and little brains with her wicked words and he loved every second of it.

It would be during these much anticipated and enjoyed moments of penetration that he would do his very best not to cum (yes cum – he got a secret and naughty thrill from using forbidden words in his mind). Success was almost entirely dependent upon an equation he’d yet to figure out. One of complex ratios between time locked vs unlocked and ruined orgasm vs not ruined or none at all, and so on. Sometimes he was a marathon winner, and other times a sprinting failure. He often felt that if he could solve this impossible math and share it for the betterment of mankind, he’d be an overnight hero to every other man in a similar situation to his.

After being encased in steel all week long, his cock would be ultra-sensitive to the slightest sensation. Her hot wet pussy gripping his shaft and beckoning the spunk from the head of his cock was relentless and merciless in its temptation. He would change the oil on the car in his mind, or try to think about when he’d last cleaned the gutters, but inevitably he’d think about how good her pussy felt. He’d think about how insane it would be to be denied being inside her, while other men were welcomed with legs spread wide, as he’d of late watched so many other men be. He’d think about how impossibly cruel it would be for her to deny her husband her pussy while freely giving it to other men as she pleased. And then, he’d blow his load. Every time. Once the thought began to whisper its salaciously terrifying implications into his mind, there was no stopping the eruption.

Shortly thereafter, when he had finished licking up his little mess off her stomach and apologizing for making the mess to begin with, she would ask him what had happened.

“Why didn’t you last longer, why couldn’t you be stronger for me?”

He’d look away, unable to meet her questioning look, so neutral and innocent in its query. There was no need to lay on guilt or shame for she knew he was already doing all that to himself just fine and required no assistance. He would then look back and see that she was still waiting, and he’d have to answer. She knew him better than he knew himself and therefore there was never an option to deflect. He would tell her that after shamefully giving in to release far too soon, it was the thought of her keeping him pussy free that did it. Those two words and the unfair cruelty they represented sent him over the edge every time, and every time he was helpless to stop it.

He’d thought that over the years she had merely dismissed his ramblings as nothing more than titillating fantasy talk. It wasn’t like they didn’t smack talk about all kinds of other things. However, there came a point when he began to realize she’d perhaps paid more attention to or rather, given more credence to his ramblings than what he’d given her credit for.

Then his life began to change. A weekend came along and they’d (she’d) passed on their usual weekend sex because ‘she hadn’t felt up to it’. That hadn’t gotten his attention because well, that was just life. They’d been married almost twenty-five years and of course, there would be times that sex wasn’t in the cards for him (cage or not). He’d dismissed it then, but it wasn’t so easy to do the next weekend when he was again denied because it was then that she told him. “No baby, no sex for you. You’re pussy free now.”

His heart had stopped and then a moment later he’d smiled. “Yeah, OK sure, yup, I’m pussy free.” He remembered the big blustering wink he’d given her even as he’d enjoyed his cock surging in the cage at her words. Then, it had very much seemed like playful banter, the type of which they’d long done before. She was merely spicing things up between them from a new angle. Now, he cringed when he thought about how naive he must have looked to her.

Throughout the week she’d stop in the middle of whatever they were doing and ask him how his ‘penis’ was. She hadn’t called it a cock or a dick in years and often made it a point to remind him of its name now that he was a locked cuckold. If he were to try and use those words she’d call him on it every time, the corners of her mouth pulled up in a mocking grin and her eyes alight with mischief, and he’d eventually stopped fighting it. It was just one of many aspects of his conditioning she’d slowly and relentlessly schooled him in since he had confessed his aching need to submit to her and be kept under lock and key.

That was fine, that was for them normal chastity stuff, good for revving the engine and keeping things spicy but as of late, the weekends now were when she reminded him of his new reality. She would throw out the phrase in casual conversation when he least expected it. No matter what they were doing or where they were, she would fit those two words into the activity and leave him wondering if she really meant it when she reminded him he was now…pussy free.

The weeks went by and he had remained locked. No sex, no release…for him. The pussy licking sessions grew longer, and the foot suckling became more intense, but the pressure never let up. The Hitachi Magic Wand buzzed away in the quiet of the night as he held her while her body shook with pleasure, and he grew confused and unsure.

They had done loads of sexy talk over the years, playful smack talk where she would push his buttons and he would lap it up. It would invariably follow at some point with hot kink-fueled sex and they would end the week mutually satisfied. It was perfect and predictable. She liked being fucked, and he liked fucking. But, their life hadn’t remained predictable. What had changed was that over the last couple of years, she’d become a cuckoldress and fucked other men and had then naturally gravitated to sampling a few well-endowed Black men. The tipping point he suspected was the BBC-themed weekend they’d attended a few months earlier.

She’d been pushed to her physical limits sexually by those men and ever since she hadn’t seemed to respond as enthusiastically to him in bed. She loved him, he had no doubt, but he knew her and could sense that for her, having sex with him was no longer the same. It was passionate, it was loving, it was hot but yet there was something it was no longer. It wasn’t some cruel game she was playing, it wasn’t something either of them had actively sought out, but it was there. She no longer found his cock as sexually exciting as the cocks of the other men she was fucking.

One day they had been walking hand in hand along the forest trail on their property, the dog bounding happily out ahead of them, and he’d welcomed the stroll for the normalcy and predictability it represented. He’d looked sideways at her with a playful smile on his face. “It’s been a long time baby, for sure you’ll need my cock tonight.” He’d nodded smugly to himself. “I know my girl, and I know what she needs.”

She’d laughed out loud. It had come out in a rush, unscripted and cruel in its biting assessment of what he’d said. She’d composed herself. “Baby, you tell yourself whatever you like, but you’re pussy free now.”

The following weekend had not brought any relief and he had been unsure about bringing it up. He hadn’t had to though, she’d not so casually reminded him of his new status all weekend long. Whatever game she was playing at was working. He no longer felt sure about anything.

Then it came to a head.

Another weekend arrived, and while they were again out walking she brought up how good things were between them, and how happy she was. He nodded, not daring to direct the conversation lest he jinx it. She looked reflective. “Sure, we play at little things like keeping you pussy free, but we’re not following a script. At the end of the day, we’re just going with how we feel. What ‘will be’ and all that.”

His dick turtled inside its cage at that, but he put on a brave face. “He-he. Sure babe. You tell yourself that and me and my big cock will see you tonight.”

He knew he was setting himself up for it but he had to push back against her casual disregard for what they were doing and the effect it was having on him. She might not appreciate how long it had been since he’d had an erection, let alone had sex, but he sure did.

Sure enough, she didn’t let it go by. “You mean, your little penis in its cage will see me tonight.”

She laughed, and he laughed along with her and a moment later, as the autumn leaves slipped and slid lackadaisically down on the afternoon sun’s rays, falling all around her, she kissed him. And he kissed her back with everything he had, madly in love like the day they’d met and for a moment forgetting the game she was playing with him.

The day flew by and the night along with it and he felt good. They were in tune and her playful eyes told him without words that she was ready. She was ready to get fucked. Enough was enough. So when they went to bed and she told him to ‘go get the key’ his heart soared and his cock jumped in its cage. This was it, finally!

He had loved every second of every night he had been able to press his caged cock into the crack of her ass, the heat promising untold delights just beyond the unyielding bars of steel. After all a guy took what pleasure he could, however he could. This though, as he tossed the cage onto the floor and slipped under the covers, eagerly pressing his rapidly hardening cock against her ass, was different. He closed his eyes and gave himself over to the sensations of her soft skin against the head of his cock, her heat radiating into it, her pheromones drifting into his soul. This was…heaven.

He slid his hand over her hip and down between her legs, feathering her pussy lips with his fingertips. Butterfly kisses lovingly delivered, regardless of what part of him served to pleasure her. Those other men could be brutes, as she so desired on a primal level. He however knew his place, and that was to be loving and gentle and reverent of her femininity, and not try to be something she didn’t think he was. She wanted them one way and him another. That was just fine by him, and even more so tonight now that he was finally unlocked.

She reached back and palmed his cock, her fingers loosely feathering his balls as the rest of her hand whispered around his shaft. He thrust into her palm, giddy with excitement at being free, at being hard, at feeling her with his cock.

Her thighs opened to allow his searching fingers access and they quickly found the slick folds of her pussy, wet and ready. He slipped one finger inside her, then another, then as he pressed into her with a third he thrust again into her hand, but to no avail. The harder he tried to press his cock against her palm, the further away it would retreat, leaving him with nothing but the illusion of her touch.

Frustrated, he abandoned playing with her pussy and he climbed on top of her, trying to get his legs in between hers. She went still.

“What are you doing?”

He looked down at her freshly shaven mound, the dim light gliding over its satiny smooth surface in a proclamation of the wonders just beyond the folds of flesh it was highlighting. He knew what she was asking the moment she asked it but he didn’t want to give it credence. It couldn’t be. She had been messing around all these weeks, it had been just another smack-talk game. He’d been sure of it… until now, until the steel in her voice stopped him in his tracks and shriveled his manhood that had only just recently dared to get erect. He dragged his starving eyes away from her taunting lips and met her gaze, her eyes burning with mischievous heat.

“That…is not for you. I told you. You’re pussy free now.” Her eyes held his in an iron grip that dared him to contradict her as she gave him in spades what he’d long fantasized about. The room was silent but for the soft pop and crackle of the flames merrily burning in the living room fireplace outside their bedroom. Time slowed as he processed the implications of the moment. Her pussy was literally right fucking there and despite unlocking him from his cage to allow him a perfectly usable erection, he was not allowed to put his…penis, inside her.

If he dared accept the reality she was presenting him, he would live his greatest fear and his greatest fantasy. She had other men to please her in ways he truly could not, and she would enjoy denying him more than she would fucking him.

The choice was made for him when she broke the moment and pushed him off her, dismissing him as she reached for The Wand. “Hold me.”

His balls tightened and a chill went through him. She had never intended to give him a choice, she had merely wanted him to take a moment and fully recognize his new reality. He held her close and desperately humped the crack of her ass while her body racked with orgasm after Hitachi delivered orgasm, knowing the clock was rapidly running out. And then it was over. She lay panting as he kissed the back of her neck and struggled to not be an animal, to no longer grind his as yet unsatisfied cock and blue balls against her.

He had so much he wanted to say, to talk about, to understand, but what he wanted was irrelevant. His body was screaming for relief as her breathing slowed and she slipped into a deep satisfied sleep. She wiggled her ass into him as she adjusted herself fully into the spoon, blissful in her contentment even as she drove him mad with desire.

He took slow steady breaths, willing his cock to settle down, willing it to understand that tonight, nor perhaps any night in the near future, would be for appeasing its needs. He felt a peace wash over him as he thought about the pleasure they’d shared, at the pleasure through his denial he had given her. He felt a blossoming gratitude for her allowing him the opportunity to suffer for her in ways he’d only thought he would ever fantasize about. She may be playing a game, or she may not. Only she would know for how long this would go on. He had so much as asked for this and she, in her love for him and the amazing life they were living, and whether he liked the reality of it or not, was giving it to him in spades.

Ready or not, and for as long she wished, it would seem he was now pussy free.

The End.