A blog, written by a couple in a female led marriage, devoted to the idea that women would run the world far better than men have and that a matriarchy can be achieved by using the weaknesses men possess against them.
I know I usually start by telling you how Ian was toiling away in the kitchen from the wee hours of the morning while I awake from my slumber. Then, how I leisurely get dressed and cleaned up, and then make my way for the kitchen to be served a delicious breakfast, but not that day, because that day it was Monday. Instead of joyously serene experience, I was awoken by a beeping demon from hell, that is trapped inside the small black box on my nightstand, who controls my weekly existence. I quelled its evil machinations three times before Ian came into the room, fully dressed in a nice gray button-up shirt, a pair of black cargo pants, and a very casual tie. He gently pulled me up to a standing position, so I could ready myself for the day of work ahead of me.
I cleaned up and dressed, in jeans and a nice shirt, and bolted out the door. Ian knew I hated eating anything substantial when I first get up, so he handed me two granola bars and a coffee as I rushed out the door. I ran out to car that was running, all warmed up in the driveway, and put the car in drive. Just before I pulled away, I heard a knock on my window. It was Ian standing there with my school bag and work bag, one full of books I would need for class, assuming I get there on time, and the other with the scrubs I need to change into after my class so I can go to work. Honestly, I’m not sure how I ever managed to get through that part of my life without him.
I made it to class and work just fine that day, but you probably don’t care much about that. You might be wondering why Ian was all dressed up. Well, we live in America, we’re not independently wealthy, so we both must work to maintain our present standard of living. That’s as true today as it was back then. At the time, Ian did computer security work for a big box chain store. He went to work and sat in a closet all day typing away. Now he does something different which allows him to work from home, most days, but he does still have to go in occasionally to handle bigger issues.
Now the next question crossing your mind was probably this: is he caged? He was, but I didn’t know it. During this time period, I was really nervous about the idea of him wearing it outside the house all day. What if he were in a car accident? How was I going to explain the cage to the police, or the medical staff? Would it cause him to have an accident, or keep him from being able to function properly? I was extremely leery about him wearing it outdoors, so I ordered him not, and to not touch himself. He was very upset about this decision, and had argued in favor of wearing it 24/7, but I was just not comfortable. He agreed to do as I said, but wore it secretly anyway because he wanted to prove his point that it would be fine. He left after me in the morning, and returned before I came home at night, so it was easy to just put it on again after I left for the day.
I have since moved beyond those fears, not because of some innate desire to humiliate my husband, but because it wouldn’t really matter in the grand scheme of things, and I can thank nursing for that. I was terrified I’d be embarrassed if I had to explain why he was wearing it, especially to fellow medical staff, but after one year working as an ER nurse, I pretty much left those worries behind. We had several patients come in wearing cages, and when I first saw it, I figured it would be the talk of the nurse’s station. Not only was it not a subject of interest; it was as uninteresting as seeing an inflamed wart, and nearly as common. Besides cages, we saw domination-based body modifications such as a prince albert piercing locked to a scrotal piercing with a padlock, tattoos declaring slavery status and two-guys that came with butt plugs that cranked out and locked to eliminate the possibility of removal. Trust me…medical staff have seen it all and really don’t care, so if you want your slave caged in public, go for it. It won’t be embarrassing for anyone but him, and he’ll love the fear of being possibly discovered.
I think I’ll leave the rest of Ian’s leaving-the-house-in-chastity story for another day, though. I would rather discuss what happened on the day in question.
My day was hectic, as usual, but it did finally end, and I returned home. Surprisingly, I wasn’t greeted at the front door like I usually am, so I went searching for Ian. I was not surprised to find my naked, caged and submissive little slaveboy on his hands and knees wiping up a tiny mess on the kitchen floor he’d made after dropping a small container of cream. He has always been a bit clumsy. He was so hard at work, he never heard me enter the house. I startled him when I came up behind him, admired his upturned bum, and then spoke.
“Already presenting your ass to me? You must really be looking forward to what I have planned for later.” I said coyly. He spun around to face me and nearly jumped to his feet. He looked relieved to see that the interloper was me.
“Oh, It’s you.” He said breathing hard. “You gave me quite the scare, Ana.” He began to relax.
“Don’t you mean Mistress Ana?” Realizing he misspoke he moved to a position on his knees and pressed his forehead to the floor.
“Yes, Mistress Ana. I am sorry to show such disrespect. Please forgive me.”
“Hmmm.” I said with a finger pressed to my lips. I let him wait about twenty seconds before I continued. “I guess this time I’ll let you off with a warning, but it’s only because I received so much pleasure from watching you be startled. Stand up and give me my return home kiss.” He jumped to his feet.
“As you command, Mistress.” He moved in and our lips pushed gently together. It seemed like an eternity of bliss that lasted a mere moment. He broke away and smiled. “Dinner’s ready.”
“Awesome! I’m starving. All I’ve had today is bag of chips, a diet soda and those two granola bars you gave me.”
“Well, you’re going to love the shrimp and chicken alfredo I made then.” He said. I knew he could see my mouth watering. “If you would like to get cleaned up, I ‘ll be ready to serve as soon as you come back, Mistress.”
I didn’t need a second invitation. I nearly ran to the bathroom, ripped off my scrubs and hopped in the shower for a quick rinse. After popping out, I dried off quickly and put on my robe. I started to reach down and grab my clothes and towel that had made their way to the floor, but then stopped. Ian had complained many times that I don’t use his servant status often enough, so I decided to leave them where they sat. I thought it was silly for me to not pick up after myself, but for some reason, he loves cleaning up after me, and I want him to be happy, so I’d been trying to be less considerate.
I went down the hallway, right past the laundry I could have dropped the dirty clothes in, and sat down in the little breakfast nook. I wasn’t there for more that a few seconds before Ian arrived with a lovely plate of food and small glass of flavored, carbonated water. He left again for a moment and returned with his own plate of food and then began to sit down, but I stopped him.
“Before you sit down, I have something for you to do.” He stood back up and waited attentively. “I left my clothes and towel in the bathroom. Go get them and put them in the laundry. Then you may eat.” His eyes shot open with excitement. He is such a little sub!
“Yes, Mistress! It will be my honor!” He ran off and did as he was told. While he was gone, I contemplated what I had just done. I had made a mess, left the mess on purpose, and then ordered another human being to go clean up the mess before that person was aloud to eat. I am pretty sure I had just fallen into the category of dictator, but for some reason Ian loved it, and to be honest, I was warming up to it.
He returned less than a minute later and immediately dropped to his knees and asked for permission to join me for dinner. I took two more bites of food before saying yes. He jumped up and our dom/sub roles disappeared as he tore into his own plate of food. We both talked as we ate about the events of our days and reconnected as husband and wife. No Mistress this or slave that, just Ana and Ian. This is how a real FLR is.
After dinner was over, Ian cleaned up the mess and I went to our bedroom and waited. I had told him to join me once everything was clean. Once he arrived, I had him attach the ropes to the ceiling and within a few minutes, he was once again bound, inescapably, with his arms above his head and his legs split by the spreader bar. The skin from his upper back, down to his lower thighs, were still covered in raised red welts, but they didn’t look anywhere near as angry as they had two days prior. I still didn’t think a whipping right now would be wise. He still needed more time to heal.
I moved around in front of him and found his smiling face. I’ve never met anyone who looked so happy when they were helpless. I found it hard not smile back at such a beaming looking of joy. I leaned in and kissed him, this time for far longer. Once our lips parted, I looked him right in the eyes.
“I guess it’s time to start playing with that tight little hole of yours.” I did my best to look mean.
“Don’t you want to take off my cage, Mistress?” There was a lot of pleading going on in those big puppy-dog eyes.
“No.” I said. “I’m not having pop early again like yesterday.”
“About that…” He started.
“About what?” I interrupted.
“I don’t think we should try with the cage on.”
“Why is that?” I asked. There was a long pause.
“I think it’s going to hurt too much.” He finally admitted.
“Why?” I asked with real concern.
“I can’t keep myself from trying to get erect when you play with…you know.”
“Your ass?” I laughed because he was suddenly being prudish.
“Yeah, that.” He looked down. “You know how sometimes when you whip me with the cage, I get all excited and start to get hard?”
“Yes, I enjoy that!” I said emphatically.
“Well, it can get to be too much now that you shrunk my cage. I’m to the point where I can’t look at porn during the day because it hurts way too much if I get to hard.”
“Oh, poor baby. This is what you said you wanted.” I responded indignantly and then suddenly twisted the topic. “Wait, I don’t remember giving you permission to look at porn.” He began stuttering.
“Well…I…you know…I mean…I…You never said I couldn’t?” He thought he had me on that one.
“You said you wanted to be my slave and that I should control every aspect of your life. That alone means you don’t do anything I didn’t tell you that you could do. It is the very definition of telling you not to, because all actions are not allowed unless permitted by me. Wouldn’t you agree?” He looked despondent. He knew he had no out on this issue.
“Yes, Mistress.” He said with his eyes cast to the floor. “I promise that I won’t look at porn anymore.”
“On the contrary, now that I know it causes discomfort, I want you to look at it twice a day for ten minutes. This is your punishment for disobeying me.” He raised his eyes to lock with mine and had a look of horror on his face.
“Please Mistress, anything but that!” He begged. I was really confused by his fear. I couldn’t imagine why he would shy away from this so vehemently. At the same time, I remembered his words about punishment being real and I knew I couldn’t back down.
“You heard me! Now if you want a whipping on your already very sore ass on top of it, then just keep whining!” He cast his eyes down again, a sign he was truly submitting, but I also thought I heard a whimper.
“Yes, Mistress.” He said quietly.
“Good! Now let’s get to playing with the tight little ass of yours!” Again, I thought I heard a whimper, but couldn’t be sure. I looked down at his cage and saw his semi-erect penis mostly filling the tiny plastic prison.
I moved around behind him, put on some latex gloves and grabbed the tube of KY. I put a big dollop of clear lubricant on my first two fingers and moved them base of his bum. I spread his left cheek with my left hand as I invaded the space between the two cheeks with my two gooey fingers. I rubbed the lube gently around his waiting hole. He moaned, but also seemed hesitant. Yesterday, he had pushed his ass out, so I had easy access. Today his body was very upright.
“Stick your ass out, slave.” He complied and access became easier. I started slowly pushing one well-lubed finger into his anus. He moaned again as I gently worked the digit all the way in. I then pulled it out, scooped a little more lube that lined his crack of his butt. Once re-lubricated, I put the finger back in again; a little more forcibly this time. He jumped, but the accompanying groan gave away the fact that he found it devilishly pleasurable. I began moving the finger in and out more rapidly, essentially fucking his ass, until it was slipping in and out easily. That’s when I moved it up to two fingers.
It was a little hard to get it in at first, but he quickly relaxed and accepted my intrusion. After a couple of minutes, I was moving the two digits in and out of him like a real cock moving at a steady clip. Five minutes later, he was taking my fingers like a champ.
Keeping my fingers in his ass, I stretched my body around and took a quick look from the front. Ian’s eyes were scrunched shut, his face was red and I’m pretty sure I saw tears streaming down his face. I was aghast! I couldn’t believe he could be in this much pain! I pulled my fingers out and faced him straight on.
“What’s wrong?!” I asked. He tried to open one of his eyes to look at me and that spoke.
“My dick.” He said through gritted teeth. I looked down and was flabbergasted! His tiny pecker was bright purple and trying to escape the cage by pushing out between every bar. It looked like some sort of weird Play-Do set where you squeeze a lever and that doughy stuff squishes out from every hole. On top of that, His balls were crushed up to cage like he was trying to yank them through the narrow openings between the bars.
Now, my husband’s little penis is not like any other cocks I’ve seen. When limp, it barely sticks out a full inch, but his balls hang very low. When erect, his shaft engorges and sucks up all the skin of his scrotum; causing his balls to be pulled right up to the base. It seemed very odd for me when I first started having sex with my husband that I didn’t feel the slap of a pair of balls hitting me when we were really going at it. Every guy I had ever been with had a hanging scrotum when hard. Even now with my boyfriend’s cock. His is about five inches limp and nearly seven hard, but when fully erect his scrotum still hangs. I must admit; I missed that sensation when I first started having sex with Ian. Good thing for me that he wants me to cuckold him.
Back to the cage. My poor husband’s balls were trying to retreat through pencil-thick opening between two hard pieces of plastic. I was pretty sure that this would be a battle that would be won by the plastic, or the testicles, and one of the two were going to inevitably have to break if I kept this up.
Suddenly realizing that I needed to act, I pulled off my gloves and rushed over to the nightstand and grabbed my keys. I made my way quickly back to my husband, removed the padlock and let the cage free to separate; which happened immediately due to the pressure it was under. Ian’s cock pushed the cage apart and went instantaneously erect. The tube of the cage was lightly stuck on the head of his cock and came off with a little tug. Ian sighed with relief.
“Do you feel better?” I asked. Ian nodded.
“Yes, Mistress.” His breathing returned to normal.
“Good. Maybe we should take a break from this.” I said. I was afraid that he might have been damaged. The last thing I wanted was my husband to have a broken pecker.
“No, Mistress!” He said emphatically. “I feel fine now. I’m okay. Really.”
“Maybe so.” I said. “But, you’re going cum in like thirty seconds again if I start back up. I think we need to come up with a different plan.” I was disappointed. That makes two nights in a row where I didn’t get to have my fun. I reached up and grabbed one of his cuffs to unhook it when he sighed and then spoke.
“If I cum a little, I’ll be able to control it.”
“What’s that?
“If I cum a little, I’ll be able to control it for as long as you want, Mistress.”
“What do you mean? Explain.”
“I’ve always been a premature ejaculator. Often, when I knew I was going to have sex, I’d rub one out in the bathroom twenty minutes before getting busy.” He sighed again. That boy just didn’t like giving up his secrets. “On occasions when I didn’t know I was going to have sex, and all of a sudden here it was, I did something different so that I didn’t last only half of a minute. I’d start fucking and let the cum fly to the top. Then, ‘I’d pull out and make an excuse like ‘my leg was starting to cramp’ or ‘I lost my balance’. Meanwhile, I had let the cum to the top, but didn’t continue to stimulate it, so I dribble out a tablespoon of or so. It was all about timing. It wouldn’t be all, so I could wait ten seconds, let the cum go back down inside, and then return to fucking with full control.”
“Wow. I didn’t know that works.” I had never heard of such a thing. “Didn’t the woman you were with notice?”
“No. I’d catch the cum in my hand and swallow it quickly. That’s how I got started into eating my own.”
“I see.” Somehow that wasn’t a surprise. Ian had spent his lifetime finding ways to circumvent his shortcomings to make sure he’d still accomplish his goals. He is one of the most resourceful people I’ve ever met. “So, if you cum a small amount, then we can continue on?” I had an idea on how to do this.
“Yes, Mistress.” He said. I responded by walking over to the fun chest and getting another pair of latex gloves. Then, I dropped to my knees, something I rarely ever do, and positioned myself to Ian’s side so that I could put my fingers in his and monitor his little cock at the same time. After lubing up two fingers on my right hand, I pushed them between hi crack and up to his anus. He responded by pushing back toward them and, working together, I was once again as far as my fingers could reach inside him. He moaned with pleasure. He was still plenty stretched out and relaxed
I began fucking his tiny hole with my digits as I watched his tiny pecker quickly grow harder and harder. His shaft and balls were still encircled by the base ring of the cage and that was just tight enough to keep the blood from being able to easily flow back down. He started making gasping noises and I could tell he was getting pretty close, so I slowed down my fingers. The reaction from him was precious. He started trying to ram his ass against my fingers more rapidly, but I wasn’t going to let him get there too quickly. I was worried we’d get to the point of no return and all I’d have for my efforts was a white, sticky mess and a tied-up husband apologizing profusely. No, I was going to do this the right way.
A few years ago, when we were first getting into bondage, I would tie Ian up and give him a hand job as a treat. He loved them. One night he was complaining that they were over so quickly, so I decided to a bit cruel. I brought him right up to the edge and then receded, and then did it again. As a matter of fact, I kept that up for a half of an hour; and it was horrible for him. It got to the point that I just kept reaching over and touching his penis right under the head and the whole thing would start throbbing. As soon as it stopped, I’d touch it again. I finally let him cum when he was having a hard time staying erect. It came out like a stream of urine in a half flaccid state and he said it was like spraying acid. He made me promise to never do that to him again. Now this was long before I had heard of edging and ruined orgasms, so as you can imagine, that promise was eventually broken.
I continued pushing my fingers in and out rhythmically, keeping his aching cock as hard as it could be, but not quite to the point where it might pop. Just to the edge. He, in turn, kept struggling to get me to go faster, but that wasn’t going to happen. He was going to cum a small amount, and only when I let him.
After about ten minutes of this. I reached over with my left hand and tickled the skin right below the head. I saw him gear up to blow, so I pull my fingers from his ass and grabbed the base of his cock tightly with my other hand. I saw liquid bubble out of the tip of his little guy and felt a throbbing in my hand as his body tried to force the cum through. I held his urethra mostly pinched shut at the base and watched as about spoonful dribbled out and onto the floor. Once his cock began to go limp, I released my grip, placed my glove-covered thumb and the base of his cock and then pulled forward along the urethra with some pressure. It squeezed another amount of ejaculate that had remained in the tube. This came out on to my hand, so I stood up and fed it Ian. He obediently licked it all up.
“So, are we good?” I asked him?
“Yes, Mistress.” He said while in a bit of a daze from being kept on the edge for so long. “I’m still super horny, but I shouldn’t cum too soon.
“Awesome!” I said. “I’m going to go put on the strap on!”
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My Husband’s Bum Part 4
I know I usually start by telling you how Ian was toiling away in the kitchen from the wee hours of the morning while I awake from my slumber. Then, how I leisurely get dressed and cleaned up, and then make my way for the kitchen to be served a delicious breakfast, but not that day, because that day it was Monday. Instead of joyously serene experience, I was awoken by a beeping demon from hell, that is trapped inside the small black box on my nightstand, who controls my weekly existence. I quelled its evil machinations three times before Ian came into the room, fully dressed in a nice gray button-up shirt, a pair of black cargo pants, and a very casual tie. He gently pulled me up to a standing position, so I could ready myself for the day of work ahead of me.
I cleaned up and dressed, in jeans and a nice shirt, and bolted out the door. Ian knew I hated eating anything substantial when I first get up, so he handed me two granola bars and a coffee as I rushed out the door. I ran out to car that was running, all warmed up in the driveway, and put the car in drive. Just before I pulled away, I heard a knock on my window. It was Ian standing there with my school bag and work bag, one full of books I would need for class, assuming I get there on time, and the other with the scrubs I need to change into after my class so I can go to work. Honestly, I’m not sure how I ever managed to get through that part of my life without him.
I made it to class and work just fine that day, but you probably don’t care much about that. You might be wondering why Ian was all dressed up. Well, we live in America, we’re not independently wealthy, so we both must work to maintain our present standard of living. That’s as true today as it was back then. At the time, Ian did computer security work for a big box chain store. He went to work and sat in a closet all day typing away. Now he does something different which allows him to work from home, most days, but he does still have to go in occasionally to handle bigger issues.
Now the next question crossing your mind was probably this: is he caged? He was, but I didn’t know it. During this time period, I was really nervous about the idea of him wearing it outside the house all day. What if he were in a car accident? How was I going to explain the cage to the police, or the medical staff? Would it cause him to have an accident, or keep him from being able to function properly? I was extremely leery about him wearing it outdoors, so I ordered him not, and to not touch himself. He was very upset about this decision, and had argued in favor of wearing it 24/7, but I was just not comfortable. He agreed to do as I said, but wore it secretly anyway because he wanted to prove his point that it would be fine. He left after me in the morning, and returned before I came home at night, so it was easy to just put it on again after I left for the day.
I have since moved beyond those fears, not because of some innate desire to humiliate my husband, but because it wouldn’t really matter in the grand scheme of things, and I can thank nursing for that. I was terrified I’d be embarrassed if I had to explain why he was wearing it, especially to fellow medical staff, but after one year working as an ER nurse, I pretty much left those worries behind. We had several patients come in wearing cages, and when I first saw it, I figured it would be the talk of the nurse’s station. Not only was it not a subject of interest; it was as uninteresting as seeing an inflamed wart, and nearly as common. Besides cages, we saw domination-based body modifications such as a prince albert piercing locked to a scrotal piercing with a padlock, tattoos declaring slavery status and two-guys that came with butt plugs that cranked out and locked to eliminate the possibility of removal. Trust me…medical staff have seen it all and really don’t care, so if you want your slave caged in public, go for it. It won’t be embarrassing for anyone but him, and he’ll love the fear of being possibly discovered.
I think I’ll leave the rest of Ian’s leaving-the-house-in-chastity story for another day, though. I would rather discuss what happened on the day in question.
My day was hectic, as usual, but it did finally end, and I returned home. Surprisingly, I wasn’t greeted at the front door like I usually am, so I went searching for Ian. I was not surprised to find my naked, caged and submissive little slaveboy on his hands and knees wiping up a tiny mess on the kitchen floor he’d made after dropping a small container of cream. He has always been a bit clumsy. He was so hard at work, he never heard me enter the house. I startled him when I came up behind him, admired his upturned bum, and then spoke.
“Already presenting your ass to me? You must really be looking forward to what I have planned for later.” I said coyly. He spun around to face me and nearly jumped to his feet. He looked relieved to see that the interloper was me.
“Oh, It’s you.” He said breathing hard. “You gave me quite the scare, Ana.” He began to relax.
“Don’t you mean Mistress Ana?” Realizing he misspoke he moved to a position on his knees and pressed his forehead to the floor.
“Yes, Mistress Ana. I am sorry to show such disrespect. Please forgive me.”
“Hmmm.” I said with a finger pressed to my lips. I let him wait about twenty seconds before I continued. “I guess this time I’ll let you off with a warning, but it’s only because I received so much pleasure from watching you be startled. Stand up and give me my return home kiss.” He jumped to his feet.
“As you command, Mistress.” He moved in and our lips pushed gently together. It seemed like an eternity of bliss that lasted a mere moment. He broke away and smiled. “Dinner’s ready.”
“Awesome! I’m starving. All I’ve had today is bag of chips, a diet soda and those two granola bars you gave me.”
“Well, you’re going to love the shrimp and chicken alfredo I made then.” He said. I knew he could see my mouth watering. “If you would like to get cleaned up, I ‘ll be ready to serve as soon as you come back, Mistress.”
I didn’t need a second invitation. I nearly ran to the bathroom, ripped off my scrubs and hopped in the shower for a quick rinse. After popping out, I dried off quickly and put on my robe. I started to reach down and grab my clothes and towel that had made their way to the floor, but then stopped. Ian had complained many times that I don’t use his servant status often enough, so I decided to leave them where they sat. I thought it was silly for me to not pick up after myself, but for some reason, he loves cleaning up after me, and I want him to be happy, so I’d been trying to be less considerate.
I went down the hallway, right past the laundry I could have dropped the dirty clothes in, and sat down in the little breakfast nook. I wasn’t there for more that a few seconds before Ian arrived with a lovely plate of food and small glass of flavored, carbonated water. He left again for a moment and returned with his own plate of food and then began to sit down, but I stopped him.
“Before you sit down, I have something for you to do.” He stood back up and waited attentively. “I left my clothes and towel in the bathroom. Go get them and put them in the laundry. Then you may eat.” His eyes shot open with excitement. He is such a little sub!
“Yes, Mistress! It will be my honor!” He ran off and did as he was told. While he was gone, I contemplated what I had just done. I had made a mess, left the mess on purpose, and then ordered another human being to go clean up the mess before that person was aloud to eat. I am pretty sure I had just fallen into the category of dictator, but for some reason Ian loved it, and to be honest, I was warming up to it.
He returned less than a minute later and immediately dropped to his knees and asked for permission to join me for dinner. I took two more bites of food before saying yes. He jumped up and our dom/sub roles disappeared as he tore into his own plate of food. We both talked as we ate about the events of our days and reconnected as husband and wife. No Mistress this or slave that, just Ana and Ian. This is how a real FLR is.
After dinner was over, Ian cleaned up the mess and I went to our bedroom and waited. I had told him to join me once everything was clean. Once he arrived, I had him attach the ropes to the ceiling and within a few minutes, he was once again bound, inescapably, with his arms above his head and his legs split by the spreader bar. The skin from his upper back, down to his lower thighs, were still covered in raised red welts, but they didn’t look anywhere near as angry as they had two days prior. I still didn’t think a whipping right now would be wise. He still needed more time to heal.
I moved around in front of him and found his smiling face. I’ve never met anyone who looked so happy when they were helpless. I found it hard not smile back at such a beaming looking of joy. I leaned in and kissed him, this time for far longer. Once our lips parted, I looked him right in the eyes.
“I guess it’s time to start playing with that tight little hole of yours.” I did my best to look mean.
“Don’t you want to take off my cage, Mistress?” There was a lot of pleading going on in those big puppy-dog eyes.
“No.” I said. “I’m not having pop early again like yesterday.”
“About that…” He started.
“About what?” I interrupted.
“I don’t think we should try with the cage on.”
“Why is that?” I asked. There was a long pause.
“I think it’s going to hurt too much.” He finally admitted.
“Why?” I asked with real concern.
“I can’t keep myself from trying to get erect when you play with…you know.”
“Your ass?” I laughed because he was suddenly being prudish.
“Yeah, that.” He looked down. “You know how sometimes when you whip me with the cage, I get all excited and start to get hard?”
“Yes, I enjoy that!” I said emphatically.
“Well, it can get to be too much now that you shrunk my cage. I’m to the point where I can’t look at porn during the day because it hurts way too much if I get to hard.”
“Oh, poor baby. This is what you said you wanted.” I responded indignantly and then suddenly twisted the topic. “Wait, I don’t remember giving you permission to look at porn.” He began stuttering.
“Well…I…you know…I mean…I…You never said I couldn’t?” He thought he had me on that one.
“You said you wanted to be my slave and that I should control every aspect of your life. That alone means you don’t do anything I didn’t tell you that you could do. It is the very definition of telling you not to, because all actions are not allowed unless permitted by me. Wouldn’t you agree?” He looked despondent. He knew he had no out on this issue.
“Yes, Mistress.” He said with his eyes cast to the floor. “I promise that I won’t look at porn anymore.”
“On the contrary, now that I know it causes discomfort, I want you to look at it twice a day for ten minutes. This is your punishment for disobeying me.” He raised his eyes to lock with mine and had a look of horror on his face.
“Please Mistress, anything but that!” He begged. I was really confused by his fear. I couldn’t imagine why he would shy away from this so vehemently. At the same time, I remembered his words about punishment being real and I knew I couldn’t back down.
“You heard me! Now if you want a whipping on your already very sore ass on top of it, then just keep whining!” He cast his eyes down again, a sign he was truly submitting, but I also thought I heard a whimper.
“Yes, Mistress.” He said quietly.
“Good! Now let’s get to playing with the tight little ass of yours!” Again, I thought I heard a whimper, but couldn’t be sure. I looked down at his cage and saw his semi-erect penis mostly filling the tiny plastic prison.
I moved around behind him, put on some latex gloves and grabbed the tube of KY. I put a big dollop of clear lubricant on my first two fingers and moved them base of his bum. I spread his left cheek with my left hand as I invaded the space between the two cheeks with my two gooey fingers. I rubbed the lube gently around his waiting hole. He moaned, but also seemed hesitant. Yesterday, he had pushed his ass out, so I had easy access. Today his body was very upright.
“Stick your ass out, slave.” He complied and access became easier. I started slowly pushing one well-lubed finger into his anus. He moaned again as I gently worked the digit all the way in. I then pulled it out, scooped a little more lube that lined his crack of his butt. Once re-lubricated, I put the finger back in again; a little more forcibly this time. He jumped, but the accompanying groan gave away the fact that he found it devilishly pleasurable. I began moving the finger in and out more rapidly, essentially fucking his ass, until it was slipping in and out easily. That’s when I moved it up to two fingers.
It was a little hard to get it in at first, but he quickly relaxed and accepted my intrusion. After a couple of minutes, I was moving the two digits in and out of him like a real cock moving at a steady clip. Five minutes later, he was taking my fingers like a champ.
Keeping my fingers in his ass, I stretched my body around and took a quick look from the front. Ian’s eyes were scrunched shut, his face was red and I’m pretty sure I saw tears streaming down his face. I was aghast! I couldn’t believe he could be in this much pain! I pulled my fingers out and faced him straight on.
“What’s wrong?!” I asked. He tried to open one of his eyes to look at me and that spoke.
“My dick.” He said through gritted teeth. I looked down and was flabbergasted! His tiny pecker was bright purple and trying to escape the cage by pushing out between every bar. It looked like some sort of weird Play-Do set where you squeeze a lever and that doughy stuff squishes out from every hole. On top of that, His balls were crushed up to cage like he was trying to yank them through the narrow openings between the bars.
Now, my husband’s little penis is not like any other cocks I’ve seen. When limp, it barely sticks out a full inch, but his balls hang very low. When erect, his shaft engorges and sucks up all the skin of his scrotum; causing his balls to be pulled right up to the base. It seemed very odd for me when I first started having sex with my husband that I didn’t feel the slap of a pair of balls hitting me when we were really going at it. Every guy I had ever been with had a hanging scrotum when hard. Even now with my boyfriend’s cock. His is about five inches limp and nearly seven hard, but when fully erect his scrotum still hangs. I must admit; I missed that sensation when I first started having sex with Ian. Good thing for me that he wants me to cuckold him.
Back to the cage. My poor husband’s balls were trying to retreat through pencil-thick opening between two hard pieces of plastic. I was pretty sure that this would be a battle that would be won by the plastic, or the testicles, and one of the two were going to inevitably have to break if I kept this up.
Suddenly realizing that I needed to act, I pulled off my gloves and rushed over to the nightstand and grabbed my keys. I made my way quickly back to my husband, removed the padlock and let the cage free to separate; which happened immediately due to the pressure it was under. Ian’s cock pushed the cage apart and went instantaneously erect. The tube of the cage was lightly stuck on the head of his cock and came off with a little tug. Ian sighed with relief.
“Do you feel better?” I asked. Ian nodded.
“Yes, Mistress.” His breathing returned to normal.
“Good. Maybe we should take a break from this.” I said. I was afraid that he might have been damaged. The last thing I wanted was my husband to have a broken pecker.
“No, Mistress!” He said emphatically. “I feel fine now. I’m okay. Really.”
“Maybe so.” I said. “But, you’re going cum in like thirty seconds again if I start back up. I think we need to come up with a different plan.” I was disappointed. That makes two nights in a row where I didn’t get to have my fun. I reached up and grabbed one of his cuffs to unhook it when he sighed and then spoke.
“If I cum a little, I’ll be able to control it.”
“What’s that?
“If I cum a little, I’ll be able to control it for as long as you want, Mistress.”
“What do you mean? Explain.”
“I’ve always been a premature ejaculator. Often, when I knew I was going to have sex, I’d rub one out in the bathroom twenty minutes before getting busy.” He sighed again. That boy just didn’t like giving up his secrets. “On occasions when I didn’t know I was going to have sex, and all of a sudden here it was, I did something different so that I didn’t last only half of a minute. I’d start fucking and let the cum fly to the top. Then, ‘I’d pull out and make an excuse like ‘my leg was starting to cramp’ or ‘I lost my balance’. Meanwhile, I had let the cum to the top, but didn’t continue to stimulate it, so I dribble out a tablespoon of or so. It was all about timing. It wouldn’t be all, so I could wait ten seconds, let the cum go back down inside, and then return to fucking with full control.”
“Wow. I didn’t know that works.” I had never heard of such a thing. “Didn’t the woman you were with notice?”
“No. I’d catch the cum in my hand and swallow it quickly. That’s how I got started into eating my own.”
“I see.” Somehow that wasn’t a surprise. Ian had spent his lifetime finding ways to circumvent his shortcomings to make sure he’d still accomplish his goals. He is one of the most resourceful people I’ve ever met. “So, if you cum a small amount, then we can continue on?” I had an idea on how to do this.
“Yes, Mistress.” He said. I responded by walking over to the fun chest and getting another pair of latex gloves. Then, I dropped to my knees, something I rarely ever do, and positioned myself to Ian’s side so that I could put my fingers in his and monitor his little cock at the same time. After lubing up two fingers on my right hand, I pushed them between hi crack and up to his anus. He responded by pushing back toward them and, working together, I was once again as far as my fingers could reach inside him. He moaned with pleasure. He was still plenty stretched out and relaxed
I began fucking his tiny hole with my digits as I watched his tiny pecker quickly grow harder and harder. His shaft and balls were still encircled by the base ring of the cage and that was just tight enough to keep the blood from being able to easily flow back down. He started making gasping noises and I could tell he was getting pretty close, so I slowed down my fingers. The reaction from him was precious. He started trying to ram his ass against my fingers more rapidly, but I wasn’t going to let him get there too quickly. I was worried we’d get to the point of no return and all I’d have for my efforts was a white, sticky mess and a tied-up husband apologizing profusely. No, I was going to do this the right way.
A few years ago, when we were first getting into bondage, I would tie Ian up and give him a hand job as a treat. He loved them. One night he was complaining that they were over so quickly, so I decided to a bit cruel. I brought him right up to the edge and then receded, and then did it again. As a matter of fact, I kept that up for a half of an hour; and it was horrible for him. It got to the point that I just kept reaching over and touching his penis right under the head and the whole thing would start throbbing. As soon as it stopped, I’d touch it again. I finally let him cum when he was having a hard time staying erect. It came out like a stream of urine in a half flaccid state and he said it was like spraying acid. He made me promise to never do that to him again. Now this was long before I had heard of edging and ruined orgasms, so as you can imagine, that promise was eventually broken.
I continued pushing my fingers in and out rhythmically, keeping his aching cock as hard as it could be, but not quite to the point where it might pop. Just to the edge. He, in turn, kept struggling to get me to go faster, but that wasn’t going to happen. He was going to cum a small amount, and only when I let him.
After about ten minutes of this. I reached over with my left hand and tickled the skin right below the head. I saw him gear up to blow, so I pull my fingers from his ass and grabbed the base of his cock tightly with my other hand. I saw liquid bubble out of the tip of his little guy and felt a throbbing in my hand as his body tried to force the cum through. I held his urethra mostly pinched shut at the base and watched as about spoonful dribbled out and onto the floor. Once his cock began to go limp, I released my grip, placed my glove-covered thumb and the base of his cock and then pulled forward along the urethra with some pressure. It squeezed another amount of ejaculate that had remained in the tube. This came out on to my hand, so I stood up and fed it Ian. He obediently licked it all up.
“So, are we good?” I asked him?
“Yes, Mistress.” He said while in a bit of a daze from being kept on the edge for so long. “I’m still super horny, but I shouldn’t cum too soon.
“Awesome!” I said. “I’m going to go put on the strap on!”
To be continued...