My Week In Chastity – Episode 4

Wow, seven more days – and I’ve been locked for all of them!  Lets see what’s happened…

Still Waiting…  Patience Should Be a Virtue By Now.

I’m impatient.  I ordered the Badassworkroom cage at the beginning of April, and now we’re in May.  No big deal, it’s going to come before I do haha.  I noticed on their website that custom cages are around the 5-7 weeks before shipping, so I’m glad I opted to have the expedited shipping added on.  I’d love to understand more about the whole process of custom cage building.  I know it will take time, but surely there’s ways to optimise production, even with a limited team building the devices?  Like when I worked in web development, I had preset packages that could easily be inserted into a web build in a modular fashion.  Maybe with device builds, there could be preset elements that could be trimmed down, meaning certain parts could be mass-produced and then used in custom sizing environments.  I don’t know enough about this.  Any cage builders care to elaborate on what factors make the processes so long?  Is it the production?  Or the volume of orders?

It’s just that I suck at waiting.  One day it will arrive.  I’ll be ready to unbox, do an overview for slipping it on and getting my wife’s thoughts on it before committing to wearing it more.

Just call me Mr Rush, ha!

Always eager for the next thing – and chastity cages are no exception, even when custom made.

The Power of No, Exemplified.

My wife has health issues.  These have usually meant she’s become easily exhausted, and that’s also meant that any sexual activity is sometimes curtailed.  I’ve tried to encourage her by framing this in a denial context, but she didn’t seem to be getting the message.  In some part, she would later say, denial seemed cruel.  Until I sent her this:

You will be locked up until I decide and nothing you can do or say will change that.

For some reason, this particular ‘style’ of chastity captions have really resonated with her, something finally “clicked”, but I wasn’t aware of what was to happen.  She messaged me to say we’d be having some “fun”, and it would be “really really good for me”.  A strong insinuation that PIV was on the cards, which given her health issues was a Fucking. Big, Deal.™

This was alluded to during the day, and I finished my work, my mind working overtime with ideas, fantasising about the upcoming night.  But she wasn’t well enough.  It didn’t happen that night.  But not to worry my darling, she would tell me, it’s still on the cards.  We’re still going to have some fun, maybe tomorrow?  I accepted that, as I do with anything she can’t do owing to the illness that has plagued her.

The next day, it’s more of the same, anticipation building, she messages me to tell me she’s feeling much better, that her “plans for me” haven’t changed.  Great.  I’m hot, horny as hell, and eager to get into her pants.

Me, after my wife tells me sex is on the menu…

So I’m back home, we have dinner, anticipation rising.  Eager to have my cage removed, to pleasure my wife, as she tells me she’s eager to try have me enter her.  I’m nearly cumming from all the talk, the insinuations.

She tells me to have a shower (a typical precursor to sexy fun time).  I do so, locked.  She specifically said I should remain locked for now.  She would release me “When it’s time”.  Okay.  I clean up, go upstairs.  She’s there putting on some of her favourite lingerie.  Tells me to get on the bed, and has the key in her hand.  She puts it in the lock and…

Leaves it there.

“Not yet.  You need to be ready, desperate, eager to please me.”

Bloody hell woman, you’ve been messaging me all day, filling my head with sexy thoughts from afar.  I’m gagging, pleading already.  But no.  It’s not enough.  We kiss, fondle, she checks my straining cock and fondles the balls, as if to see if “I’m ready.”

Not yet, apparently.  We’re kissing extremely passionately now, my hands dance all over her, grasping for anything they can, eventually settling on her bum.  Begging, pleading, telling her how badly I want her, to be free to be her plaything.  It seems to have done the trick.  She goes for the key, waiting patiently in the lock.

She fumbles it around a bit.  Now this isn’t unusual – she’s always had difficulty with the simple mechanism of the integrated lock, more so as we started chastity with a padlock, and the key action is different.  So every time I’m locked/unlocked we have this ritual of sorts where I have to instruct her on the lock.

Fumbling a little more, the key is swiftly removed and held aloft.  I’m still locked in.  She laughs, triumphantly and declares:


And promptly straight after nearly collapses in hysterical laughter as the reality of what’s just happened sinks in to my sex-addled brain.  I’ve just been denied freedom, and I am SUPER FUCKING HORNY to boot.

She laughs for ages.  I’m almost in tears.  Not upset tears, but chastity frustrated tears.  She had played me nearly perfectly.  I’d anticipated an evening of ‘testing the waters’ with penetrating her, with her even saying that we should at least try it and see if the treatment she’d started had worked.

But no.  I would not be released that night.

She’d never done anything like this before.  Outright denial wasn’t ever in her playbook.  However, the effect and result of this night has somehow now forever changed our chastity lifestyle.  She sees benefit in denying me my sexual release, pleasure and all the related feelings for me.  It was incredible fun for her.  Even days later, she’s telling me how fun it was, how powerful she felt in doing it, loving my helplessness, the expressions on my face and despite what was once considered cruel in her mind, actually drives me closer to her.

Once I’d recovered from the shock, she undressed, lay on the bed and demanded a massage.  So I gave her the best massage I could muster, using all the energies that had been building up in me.  So erotic was my intent in massaging her, I nearly came putting the massage oils onto her feet…

This was the day my keyholding wife truly learned the power of no.  And meant it.

My wife understands the power of “No” so much now.

More Power of No, Again.

We had some more “fun times” last night too.  I was jump started by being told to shower, and to be unlocked for it – so unlocked I was, and went off to do a good clean.  Using the opportunity to do a deep clean (a good thing), inspect some spots that had been itching (nothing to report, just slightly red from a time I forgot to lube a certain sticking point).  But in the process I got hard, and yes, I did play with myself for a short moment.  The unusual sensations of freely stroking my own shaft were too much temptation to bear, and so I did it.  Not to the point of orgasm, no.  My wife would beat me black and blue if I went that far.  She would know too, despite any effort to hide it.  I change quite drastically in personality post-orgasm.  Doing that would be a very bad thing.

After my shower, as I was drying, she asked me the dreaded question – “Did you play with yourself?”  Now I confess I answered no, initially.  She asked again.  I paused, knowing that there were ramifications, and she already knew.

“Yes.  Just a short…”  I never got to finish that answer.

“Right.  Turn around.  You do NOT play with yourself.  That’s my toy, my plaything, and not yours.”  I turned around.  Still wet from the shower, she spanked me with the full force of her hand.  It really stung.  “Six of the best”, she calls it – not a full punishment, but a sharp painful reminder I fucked up.

I went upstairs, thinking my punishment was over.  I was still unlocked, unsure what shenanigans she had planned for me.  She came into the bedroom behind me.  She looked fierce, not a good sign.

“Right, because you seem to see fit to play with yourself, that’s all you’re getting tonight.  I want you back in your cage now.  You’re being locked back in.”  I dropped to my knees, pleading, begging.  The whole thing probably looked a bit like this (but me naked and her looking strict instead):

Begging like a pathetic little boy to remain unlocked in the face of steely determination.

She was not budging from her position, and I only relented in my begging and pleading when she threatened a paddling.  I had to go get my main PA piercing ring, which I had removed to clean after our ‘session’.  I’d put the curved barbell in for the fun times, but now it was not to be the case.  She followed me downstairs, watching my every move.  I cleaned the ring, swapped it back in, and we went to get my cage.  I put it on, she locked it back in, and that was that.

I was denied because of around ten seconds of masturbation.  Fuck.

She wanted pleasing, so we kissed, cuddled, and eventually I started my finger work on her pussy.  Finding the right spots was a challenge this time, but I’m good at getting there, slowly ramping up her pleasure, until she was shuddering and heaving away as she does.  There’s a rhythm to it all, and during this I was expectant of her deciding that now was a time for her to have me try oral.  It’s been a huge fantasy of mine, in fact I wrote of it in a journal I have called “The Private Journal of Dark, Sexy Secret Thoughts of The Author”.  It’s a journal she can read at any time, and I’m to log either specific things she requires in it or just to journal my thoughts and feelings regarding our sexy fun times.  She’d asked me to write a fantasy, and the main one I felt initially I could not write.  But after a short attempt at writing something “safe”, I scrapped it and said to myself to be damned and just do it.

She read it, loved the way it was written, but oral sex wasn’t on the cards yet.  Although I’d not mentioned about her doing it do me (yet another fantasy), she seemed to think that was an insinuation.  It wasn’t.  It was just me pleasuring her with my lips and tongue.  How I thought she might enjoy it.

However, the idea that oral sex is completely off the table was not only mentioned when she read that, but in what she did next…

I was told to lie back for a “surprise”.  She crawled over me, up my legs and then kissed my cage.  Fuck.  That was it, that was super hot.  She licked, it, moaning, before taking nearly the whole thing in her mouth.  Damn that woman and her wily ways!  She looked at me, seeing the frustration written all over my face.

“Was that nice?”

I whimpered, moaned, before saying “So close… So far…”.  It was about all I could manage at that time.

She fondled my balls, nearly making me explode there and then. She laughed, telling me that “that’s all for now”.  The closest I’ve ever come to receiving a blowjob and it’s stopped by a couple of mm of stainless steel tube locked to my cock.

My Queen has become an expert in pushing the right buttons on me.  After our playtime, with her sated and relaxed, and me frustrated as all hell, we cuddled and drifted off to sleep.

I was told in the morning that I woke her up several times with whimpering and air humping.  I slept like a log as far as I was aware.  My horniness has seemed to invade my subconscious dream states.  And it’s not been the first night this has happened…  Also, my unlocked showering or cage hygiene is to be supervised.  That cage from BAWR needs to turn up soon, as a more open design would mean less supervision – because I hate that aspect.  It’s rather humiliating, but necessary.

In Summary

A very good week for her, insanely frustrating for me.  Denial seems to be a more positive thing in her mind now and has only bolstered her confidence in dealing with me.  Her confidence has grown, not only with this, but also in keeping my attitudes in check.  This was noted in Episode 3, where I wrote about how she was learning some tools for snapping me out of the negative frustration moments I am prone to.

A final little thing that happened late last night, and this morning, was something profound.  I’d been working on helping her dress, shower, and the like.  She’d always found it awkward because of a time where she prolapsed a disc in her spine, and I had to do these things because of immobility.  But yesterday as I undressed her for bed, she said she actually liked it now.  The motivations were different, she appreciated the loving care and devotion to her.  In her words, “it’s almost like I want you to do this for me, I expect you to do it for me.”  I do, gladly.  I explained how that was my intention.  To pamper her, treat her as special in a way that she would come to appreciate, and hopefully that she would come to expect that as the norm.  It definitely seems like it is getting into that area where it crosses over from my proactive efforts to desire that for her, to the area where she will start to demand and expect it as a given thing.  And she finished it all by saying she doesn’t want this to end…

That makes me so happy.

My wife pretty much agrees with this sentiment.

See you all next week, and stay locked.  If you’re not locked, WHY THE HECK NOT!!!

Mr Everyday

Mr Everyday

Total posts created: 67
A married locked submissive husband, who's wife holds his key, controls him and generally reaps the benefits of this lifestyle he chose. Gets quite nerdy about chastity from a philosophical and psychological perspective. Enjoys chastity, obviously. Also has a more than passing interest in spanking/discipline, bondage, and appreciates all things shiny and latexy. Also enjoys electronic music, obscure movies and other strange things.

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