My new cage

[LesterBallard]

I posted a longer version of this on Fetlife ages ago. I've edited it to remove the gratuitous wank fodder elements and concentrate on the chastity. I like this version MUCH better...

I got a call around seven. My house, half an hour, she said. Nothing more. Just that and then she hung up. Christina was in one of her feisty moods, I thought. Best not to keep her waiting when she’s like that, I thought. Best leave now and get there on time, I thought.

Twenty minutes later, in a huge traffic jam, I thought she won’t be happy about this. Ten minutes later I knew she wouldn’t be. Fifteen minutes later still, I reckoned she’d be furious.

“Hello,” I said as I put my head round the front door. Nothing from within. “Hello?” I repeated. I walked through to her living room. Empty. I went to the kitchen. Empty. I made two coffees and went through to the living room and waited.

“You’re late.”

“Sorry, traffic...”

“No excuses. You’re late.”

“Sorry.”

“Sorry what?”

I looked up. She was standing in the doorway. Her expression was severe, unsmiling. I knew she was in control and I knew I was hers.

“I’m sorry, Miss,” I said.

“That’s better.” She approached me and stroked my cheek then squeezed my mouth hard at the sides, forcing my lips to pucker outwards. “You were late,” she said again. “That’s not good enough.”

“I’m sorry, Miss,” I repeated. My mouth was dry. I could feel the vein throbbing in my throat, could hear blood thrumming in my head.

She nodded. She held something in her hand and she opened it to reveal it to me. It was metal, in the shape of a penis, but small. I looked at it in confusion.

“This is for you,” she said. “This is your new chastity cage. You’re going to wear this from now on, until I say so.”

“Please, miss.”

“And once it’s on, there’s no getting it off. Not without a key. And who has the key?”

“Miss?”

“Who has the key?”

“You do, miss?”

“Yes. I do. And I’m keeping it. And you’re not getting out of your cage until I’m ready. Is that clear?”

I nodded, terror struck.

“You know what that means?”

I nodded, not really knowing.

“It means no playing with yourself. No erections. No come. No release. Not until I say so?” She gripped my chin and pulled me towards her so I was looking at her directly. “Do you understand?”

“Yes, miss.”

“Good. Because what this means is that you are now mine.”

She stood up and smiled at me. “Ready?” she said.

“Yes miss,” I said.

 

[LesterBallard]

And the second part, again with extraneous garbage removed...

When Miss Christina first put me in my chastity cage it was one of the most exciting moments of my life. This was total control. I gave everything to her. I could not get an erection, I couldn’t stroke myself, I couldn’t do anything to satisfy my sexual urges. Those urges, those primal, intensely personal things, now belonged to her. As long as I was in that cage I was her property.

I had no idea she would keep me caged for so long. A whole week went by before she phoned me. All week, I was wholly conscious of my cock and its confinement and my status as the property of Miss Christina. It is a complete paradox that, now my cock was completely useless, I could think of nothing but it. The feeling of my cage meant that I was always aware of it, I couldn’t escape from it, couldn’t remove it from my thoughts. Every time I saw an attractive woman I became aware of it again, knew that she was sexually free and could do whatever she wanted, while I was caged and could do nothing without the permission of my mistress. It was wonderful. Confinement like this was a complete release. I could simply devote myself to thoughts of the wonderful person who dominated and controlled my life.

So when I got the call from her I was intensely excited. Miss Christina called me and told me to get to her house within thirty minutes. I was going to get release! She was going to free me from my cage and, if I was lucky, she was going to give me a climax. I knew it would be sensational, after a whole week of repression in my cage. I wondered what she might do. Might she suck me? Or allow me to fuck her? Whatever she chose, I knew it would be perfect.

“Miss,” I said when I arrived, “will you release me from my cage now?”

I wasn’t expecting her answer.

“No,” she said. “Go home. I’ll phone you tomorrow.”

Tomorrow came and went. And the next day. And the next. I had, by now, been in my cock cage for ten days and I was frantic. I needed release. I thought my balls would explode. I couldn’t think of anything except my mistress, her body, her hands, her mouth, her tongue. I would do anything for her, anything.

By the weekend, day fourteen, I was almost beside myself. When the phone rang my heart pounded in my chest and I rushed to answer. “Be here in thirty minutes,” she said.

I was at her door in twenty-five minutes but I waited patiently the extra five minutes before knocking on the door. If Miss Christina said thirty minutes, she meant thirty minutes. She answered and looked at me and retreated to the living room without saying a word. She wore the key to my cock cage around her neck and when I saw it my cock spasmed uselessly against its confinement.

“Naked,” she said. She went through to the kitchen and poured herself a large glass of wine and filled a bowl with water for me. I was naked by the time she returned, standing to attention and awaiting inspection. She approached. She grabbed my cage and twisted it.

“How is it?” she said.

“Good, Miss.”

“Good?”

“Yes, Miss.”

“So you won’t mind staying in it?” She must have seen my expression because she laughed.

“Whatever you desire, Miss,” I said.

“And what would you desire?”

“I would like to be released, Miss.”

“Why?”

“Because I’ve been caged for two weeks, Miss. It’s frustrating. I want...”

“You want?”

“I want...” I paused. It felt so embarrassing, revealing my thoughts like this to another person. She was in charge of my cock and she was in charge of my mind and I could do nothing about it. “I want to come, Miss,” I said.

She laughed again. “Upstairs,” she said. “On your back. On my bed.”

I ran upstairs and went to her bedroom and lay on her bed and looked up at the ceiling and closed my eyes and prayed for release. She knelt beside me. She took off the chain with the key to may cage on it and I smiled and thought my ordeal was over. Carefully, she inserted it and unlocked it and I waited for the moment of release.

It didn’t come.

She took a label from her pocket and slipped it inside the lock mechanism and quietly snapped it shut again. And then she locked it again. I looked at the label.

“Property of Miss Christina,” it said. I looked at her, trying not to cry. She wasn’t going to let me out.

“Thank you, Miss,” I said.

“My pleasure,” she said.

My Mistress still owned me. I was still hers. I always will be. I always will be.