Wednesday, December 5

Back in the saddle again

Well, not exactly in the saddle. We're not into pony play.

Yet.

I'm back into something else, though. Wanna see?

A little bit ago I wrote that the whole frenum piercing thing just didn't work out well with regard to using it with the CB3000. The barbell often pinched my skin in the cage, especially when I got aroused, and the lack of room made it difficult to keep clean, resulting in several infections during the year. I could never wear it for more than a couple of days at a time, which didn't sit well with the increasingly kinky Mrs. Edge, who over the last couple of years developed a fetish for longer (much longer) periods of orgasm denial.

For me, that is.

Anyway, a couple of months ago I removed the piercing and let the hole close up. That it did so with something approaching the speed of a nano-black hole was also annoying. However, there doesn't seem to be any permanent scarring, and all's well that ends well, right?

Knowing that Mrs. Edge was going on a short business trip this week, it was motivation for me to dig out theCB3K and fix some minor things so she could have something to think about while being away. These devices have ventilation holes at the top and bottom; unfortunately, the top holes allowed my skin to swell out rather painfully, so I had filled them in with epoxy. The epoxy yellowed and became loose, so I replace it with tiny bars of acrylic that I shaped and super-glued over the holes. It keeps the skin from swelling through, but allows some air flow and water for cleaning.

Yeah, it's gear-head talk, but chastity is not an exact science.

I put it on on Friday morning, and ended up wearing it all through the weekend. Family, work, and other obligations kept us from enjoying any intimate time, although we did manage about 10 minutes to look at the new CB6000 model online. It looked that she was going to head off to the mid-west without our getting an opportunity for sex, but Monday night we both managed to get to bed at about the same time. While she was in the bathroom, I donned my strap-on harness and warmed up her favorite dildo (which she calls my "other cock"), and lay in bed waiting.

She crawled in, and after a few minutes started moving her hands around. She felt my other cock and said "But what if I didn't want this one? What if I wanted your real one?"

"That's fine with me," I told her, "in fact, even better, since I haven't come since last week. I was just warming the other one up so you could have the option."

We began to make out a bit, and then a bit more, which was nice because for the last few months it seems like we've only had time for quickies. A short while later I was lying on top of her, my other cock pressing against her mound and my cage pressing against her ass cheeks. She indicated that she would like some lube, and I reached into the bedside drawer for the heavier stuff that I use for my other cock. My other cock is very lifelike, but the thinner lubes sometimes aren't enough lubricity to last and will sometimes leave her a little bit chafed.

We settled into her favorite position: missionary, with my hips pressed tightly against hers, angled slightly upwards to allow the curve of my other cock to massage her sensitive spot inside. I have learned to enjoy this position myself, because when I'm not focused on the six inches of sensitive meat, the rest of my body needs some extra sensation. I continued to kiss her while maintaining long, slow stokes, and it wasn't long before I felt her legs tighten around mine and felt her arch her back slightly. Obviously the idea of me back in the cage warmed her up pretty quickly.

She smiled mischievously. "That damn piercing," she complained, "wasted a whole fucking year on that."

I felt badly about this, and told her so. I mean, it was my idea, after all.

She indicated that I should shut up and to keep fucking her.

A few minutes later, she came again, a little harder than previously. She opened her eyes and told me "You know, I should really make you pay for that mistake. Do you realize I'd almost forgotten about this?" I smiled.

"Pay?" I asked, "Like, deny me for a while?"

"Yes," she replied as I continued my slow thrusting, "like, a long while." Her breathing grew deeper and faster.

"It was over a year that I tried to make it work," I reminded her, "maybe you need to make up for lost time with me. Would you make me pay for a whole year?"

She closed her eyes tightly and nodded. A few short moment later her long nails were digging sharply into my ass and she was pressing her hips up to meet mine. A short moan, and suddenly the look of intense concentration on her face turned into a relaxed grin. She opened her eyes and smiled at me.

A quick, mini-fantasy had just played itself out in her head. I wouldn't mind, but I'm convinced that she has stronger orgasms when she thinks about keeping me locked in for longer periods. I checked this morning, my ass still has scratch marks. "I really was going to unlock you, but now I think I'm going to make you wait until I get back."

"But... but..."

"It's really because you do such a good job with your other cock, you know." She tweaked my nipple and laid back. "It's late, and I think I'm done for the night."

I asked her if she wouldn't mind sitting astride me for a couple of minutes. I love this position because I enjoy seeing her body - even more now that all the exercising has given her a nicer shape. She complained a little, but pushed me over and slowly lowered herself onto me. My cage was pressing against her ass, and I could feel her warmth through the plastic.

We talked for a few moments, she asked me "If I took off the cage and told you that you had only two minutes to come, could you do it?" I nodded. "Two whole minutes? Sure thing."

"Well, how about one minute?"

"Umm, yeah, I think so," I replied, not liking where this was headed.

"What if I took it off and said 'You've got twenty seconds to come, and then the cage is going back on'?"

"Oh, that's totally unfair," I protested, still aware of her weight on my hips, "I train myself so hard to not come quickly, and then you try to sabotage that by telling me it's the only way I'd get to come?"

She laughed softly, and rocked her hips back and forth.

"You know," I confessed, "I sometimes do have fantasies about you teasing me for a long time, stroking me, keeping me right on the edge..." "Yeah?" she asked, her eyes closed, concentrating.

"And then, right at the very end, just when I'm about to come really hard..."

She closed her eyes and leaned forward slightly as I moved my hands from her breasts to her shoulders, and down to her waist.

"... you suddenly stop touching me as I come, just letting it spill out, ruining it."

She tensed briefly, frowning in concentration, and I pulled her hips down to meet my own. She let out a breath, sighing, and her body relaxed. She leaned forward to lay against my chest. No question that she was now really done for the night.

"You don't mind waiting until I get back, do you?" she asked, sleepily.

"No, I'm good. I thought I'd be begging to come, but I'm actually feeling pretty satisfied right now," I assured her. "Thank you for getting on top for that last bit, I really enjoy looking at you." And truthfully, being able to spend some time close both physically and emotionally really did make me satisfied.

She whispered a goodnight and turned on her side. I got up to remove and clean my cock, and to apply some lube to help me sleep through the night. A few minutes later I was back under the warm covers, spooning against her back.

In the morning, just before she left she noticed me rummaging through the kitchen junk drawer, looking for some masking tape.

"What do you need that for?" she asked. In response, I handed her a pen. She watched as I removed the emergency key to the lock from my keyring and wrapped the tape around it. I gave it to her, and she signed the tape, knowing that if I tried to remove it in order to unlock myself I'd rip the tape and destroy the seal. She dated one side and, displaying some good humor, drew a couple of little hearts on the other side. She took her own key and put it in her purse.

You can see my jumble of keys with the picture of the taped key. Clicking the above picture will bring you to an album with pictures of me wearing it. NOT SAFE FOR WORK or in the same room with younger family members.The camera adds ten pounds, of course, but anyone who's seen my pics from last year can see that I've toned up quite a bit since then.

And even though she said something about "waiting until next week," I have no idea if she really means it. At this point, I don't know when she'll next let me out.

Monday, December 3

Not the Usual Anniversary Present - 7

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

Week 18: My week long birthday fantasy seemed to have turned into a permanent arrangement.

One night she happened to notice me rubbing some cream on the exposed area of my cock, and dabbing a little under the ring. I had long stopped trying to get myself off this way, since in the past it has only led to frustration, a sore cock, and lots of wasted cream; but I found that a little lubrication at night helped ease some of my discomfort. When she offered to help me, I was eager to have her lend a hand, so I lay back on the bed while she massaged the cream around the cage. Her touch being much better than my own, I was soon moaning in pleasure, fervently hoping that she wouldn’t stop.

My wife poured then poured cream on my balls, and massaged them with one hand while she rubbed my caged cock with the other. I tried not to let her see how excited I was so that she wouldn’t stop. Unfortunately, I couldn’t keep from thrusting my hips up to meet her strokes. Eyes twinkling, she squeezed my balls more firmly, knowing full well what effect that would have on me.

"Please, please let me come," I begged, "I'm so close… mmm. "

"I don’t know," she replied slowly, "you don’t seem to enjoy it when I let you come with this thing on."

"Oh, we can take it off, can’t we?" I was becoming frantic.

"No, I don’t think that’s a good idea," she said, but kept rubbing and squeezing. "I don’t think that you should get to come so easily. Besides, I’m sure you won’t even enjoy it."

My mouth was almost too dry to speak. "Yes, yes, I’ll enjoy it, I promise. Please, don’t stop, it feels so nice, oh please oh please …oh oh oh… uunhh..."

The next thing I knew, I had a few short spasms and the come just dribbled out of me. As usual, it wasn’t enough to abate my desire. My wife seemed fascinated by watching my cock leak all that fluid, and kept prodding it. Finally it stopped coming out, leaving a small pool of come on my stomach.

"Not very much," she commented, "you used to shoot so much of it, remember?"

I nodded, remembering how she often gave me hand jobs and I would end up with come as far up as my pillow, or sometimes even the wall. Apparently she remembered that, too.

"No, not very much anymore, I’m afraid," she said, shaking her head, "Poor honey, just can’t shoot if you can’t get it hard, can you?" She bent down to give me a kiss. "Oh, by the way," she added, "I don’t remember giving you permission to come, so I hope you realize what this means."

Damn it, I thought to myself, probably an extra week until she lets me out again. Ignoring the pained expression on my face, she just draped a towel over me and left the room.

Week 21: My frustration started to give way to resigned acceptance.

At some point I began to realize that I was going longer and longer between unlockings. While our frequency remained pretty much the same for lovemaking, it seemed like she found one excuse after another to avoid letting me out, so that lovemaking sessions invariably became exercises in frustration for me. Yet I still woke up each morning spooning her, my caged cock pressing against her round ass. Or I'd rub up against her in the kitchen, or pop into the shower with her to feel her naked body against mine. I began to take pleasure in having her rub other areas of my body - my ass, my thighs, my chest. I didn't stop looking forward to my now-infrequent orgasms, but I learned how to become almost satisfied with our long make-out sessions.

My wife, I'm sure, noticed this because she taunted me a little less frequently about not coming, even though we seemed to indulge more frequently in mutual kissing and fondling. She even once remarked that I didn't ask as often to be released from the cage. I had a few moments of confusion over this; was I really becoming more satisfied without coming? Having fewer orgasms didn't sound like such a good thing to me, but at the same time I no longer watched the calendar like I used to. Was there something wrong with me?

Week 26: An unusual turn of events.

For a while I wondered if my not paying attention to the calendar meant that I was losing my sex drive; over the last few months I'd gone from being allowed an orgasm each week, then every other week, and now it was about once a month; even less frequently when she decided that those involuntary emissions counted. Yet each time we crawled into bed together, I certainly felt randy and aroused, even when I knew I wouldn't be unlocked.

One afternoon there was a package in the mail. My wife just smiled when she saw it, but wouldn't tell me what was inside. That night, she told me that she was going to unlock me, but that I had to promise not to come until she allowed it. I readily agreed to be tied to the bed - hell, I would have agreed to be tied to a porcupine if it meant a good orgasm for me - and she carefully fastened my wrists and ankles to the straps at the corners of the bed. She unlocked the cage and carefully worked it off of my cock, stiff with anticipation. She made me squirm as she cleaned it with a warm washcloth, and then went into the bathroom for a few moments. When she returned, she had removed her clothes, and was holding a large towel. She placed the towel over my face and told me to remain quiet. I heard some unfamiliar noises, then what sounded like rummaging in a shopping bag, and the tearing of paper. A soft "pop" and then I gasped as she worked warm lotion over the head of my cock, letting it dribble down the shaft.

Whatever she was rubbing on me had a warm, tingly feeling, almost like menthol but without any scent that I could detect. Soon my cock was sso completely engorged with blood that it was almost painful.

"Doesn't that feel nice?" she asked me.

I nodded, then realizing that she might not be able to see my face under the towel, I moaned a "yes" to encourage her to keep rubbing. Soon I realized that my hips were rising up to meet her firm strokes, and I felt myself making little noises in the back of my throat.

"Such a nice shape," she mused, "I think that you're about as hard as I've ever seen you."

I moaned again in agreement... and then in frustration as she took her hand away. She said nothing, but I heard some fumbling with containers, and a few seconds later I felt a sensation around my cock, almost like warm dough. She pushed and squeezed, shaping something around my cock, all the while whispering encouraging words and fondling my balls.

"Try to keep still for a few minutes, okay?" she asked. For emphasis she wrapped her fingers around my balls and gave a firm squeeze. I felt her fingernails trace a path around my stomach and chest, taking care to pinch and tweak my nipples. I bit down on my lip to keep from twisting and moving. After two or three minutes, she released her hold on my balls and I felt her get up from the bed.

"Umm...," I questioned, but I felt her finger on my lips.

"I'll be right back," she promised, and I heard her footsteps across the room. A few minutes and some bathroom noises later, and suddenly I felt a cold wet rag across my stomach.

Hey!" I yelled, "That's friggin' cold! Whatthehellareyoudoing?!"

I heard her giggle and she removed the cold cloth, only to wrap it around my swollen balls. I started to bounce up and down, but she pressed her hand to my stomach to keep me from jumping. Moments later, my blood-engorged cock was shriveling up, trying to crawl back into the warmth of my body. The weight of whatever she had on my groin was lifted and apparently she took it into the other room, leaving me to writhe and twist in agonizing frustration.

Dammit!

About five minutes later she came back and began to clean me up with a warm cloth. By that time I had lost all traces of my erection, and I felt her squeezing my cock back into the metal chastity cage. I started to twist and bounce, but she crawled up onto the bed and sat on my stomach to keep me still. A minute later I heard the lock click shut. I grumbled a bit, but she managed to quiet me down when she turned around and positioned herself over my face. She pulled off the towel and guided my head between her legs; she was extremely wet, and she came very quickly several times in a row.

"I don't know why you're complaining," she said as she unfastened the bonds," I mean, you did agree not to come until I'd given you permission, right?"

I nodded, seething slightly.

"So, what's the problem? I didn't give permission and you didn't come."

"But what was that stuff you put on me?" I asked.

She shook her head. "It's a surprise. You'll find out soon enough," she replied. "Our anniversary is coming up next month; maybe that would be a good time to let you in on it."

Next month? It had already been a month since I'd last had an orgasm - would it be another month before I'd be allowed my next one?

to be continued…