You’re not cumming…
I’m stirring in my cage. I squirm in my seat. I haven’t had a full orgasm in 71 days. She came home to me 18 days ago after being away for two weeks. Her connection with my mind and my body had not faded. She knew exactly how to control me.
She had edged me to perfection. Near the critical moment, I cried out that I was cumming. But she said:
“No. You’re not cumming. You’re just spilling. You didn’t twitch at all. And you’re still hard.”
Her ruined orgasm game was still absolutely perfect, even if my mind was confused.
She cooed over my meaty thighs and purred in a low register as she gripped me. Love and lust.
“I like you”, she said. I asked why. “Because you’re friendly, and tasty, and squirmy, and meaty.” Then she called me a good boy for staying well behaved during her trip.
And because of my good behavior. Because my cock and balls were healthy and fun to play with. Because I was such a good sweet eager boy, she locked me in my chastity. This GlansArmor2 had gotten a lot of use since MaleChastityNow delivered it right before our romantic beach vacation this past winter.
She’s away now. We’re separated again by a few, and sadly indeterminate, number of weeks. But the cage holds the cock she owns, and grips me. So I don’t feel all sad and alone. I get to stay squirmy and think of her.
Since she locked me up 16 days 21 hours and 33 minutes ago, right after our first morning cuddle, I’ve been in chastity for all but 1 hour and 22 minutes, and then only for her playful teasing. This cage has been on me for the past 10 days and won’t be off until she gets home. I’ve braved both airport security and nude massages since.
The next morning after she locked me she cooed at me.
“A wriggly squeaky boy is the best kind of boy. I am going to keep you.”
While caged she had her knee pressed into my balls and her teeth on my throat. My cock bulged and throbbed and the GlansArmor squeezed back like a third hand. She adores how squirmy I am and how I react so strongly to her touch.
The she spooned me. She grinded her thigh up into my ass, and gripped my haunches with predatory glee. She salivated over me and I adored feeling so tasty. I’m her snack and I love it. She grabbed my throat and I was sent into a flash of deep submissive space. I wanted more. I wanted her to fuck me, spooning me, gripping my throat as her one hand grasps my wrist. I’m hers.
She turned me around and cooed again as we snuggled face to face in her arms.
“You’re so small!”
In these moments I don’t want this to stop. I don’t want to orgasm. I don’t want to feel sated. I want to be teased forever. I’m more attractive when I’m thirsty for her touch.
She spanked my thigh and my ass. God I loved it. I’m insatiable. She said I was shameless in how much I grinded back into her. I was greedy for more. She wanted to have me snuggle and wriggle and squeak for her all day. But I had to put my pants on and go to work.
Such a hard life.
And so this morning I’m reviewing all these journal entries and dancing in my seat. I can’t stop squirming! I try to crush my cock between those meaty thighs she loves and it doesn’t help. My cage keeps my cock sheltered. I want to squeeze it and fondle myself, but the cage keeps me a good boy.
Last month I asked her “If you could keep me happy, would use keep me like this?”
Her response was immediate.
“I will keep you.” She skipped past the conditional, exactly as if she knew what she wanted, and she knows what’s good for me.
“I will keep you frustrated and tasty, wriggly and wet, drippy and wanting.”
She spoke it like wedding vows. Forever. For the rest of our days.
“You should get a second cage just like this, so you can swap it out (to deep clean it), so you don’t have to feel unlocked.” she told me. She
I froze and was silent. I let her words hang. I finally asked politely “May I?”
“Yes”
Holy hell, my heat pounded.
“This 24/7 chastity is only going to work if you keep yourself healthy and clean. … You need to be in good health to stay caged.”
And so that’s how she found me after two weeks apart. Healthy and clean. She praised me for being a good boy and locked me back up.
I’m 17 days from matching last year’s record 88 days of orgasm denial. And it’s not unlikely we’ll surpass it this year. I do have a doctor’s appointment which will require me to remove my cage. I plan to take it off in the room prior to the examination. Other than that, she tells me I can stay caged.
During a verbal tease and denial session she told me “You can gush in your cage, you’ve done it before”
She proceeded to press my buttons, or play me like an instrument.
“I’ll keep you like this. Full and creamy. My little creampot. You can squirm and be frustrated”
“Really? You’ll keep me like this?”
“Yes”
“How long?”
“Forever.” (She went to my enduring fantasy) “You can stay locked up in your little cage. I’ll take you out to play with you, for a little bit, and put you back in. You can spill in your cage.”
This conversation was nearly a month ago, and so She praised me for gushing in my cage on Saturday night. A thick white pool poured onto my body in a massive puddle.
“Woah! What a good boy” she told me on Monday when I let her know.
Maybe this is my future. Maybe I can stay locked up, except for her unending tease and orgasm denial (and the occasional doctor’s visit) through all of September, and all of Locktober too. My first 168 hour lock up in PA secured MaleChastityNow chastity, “real chastity” to quote my wife, started on 1 October 2014. It would be a lovely way to celebrate my 5th year anniversary of chastity, masturbation denial and orgasm control.
That would keep me locked consistently for over ten weeks. If she freed me and had me finally cum on 1 November, that would keep me orgasm denied for 129 days. Finally not just crashing through 3 months, but 4 calendar months of denial. I’m looking forward to this. I want this. I crave the floaty heady desperate frustration.
I can still hear her voice promising only perfect ruins and constant chastity, and threatening to merely keep me edged while unlocked and spilling over in the cage.
“You’re not cumming. You’re just spilling. You didn’t twitch. You’re still hard. I like you because you’re friendly, and tasty, and squirmy, and meaty. I will keep you frustrated and tasty, wriggly and wet, drippy and wanting. I’ll keep you like this. Full and creamy. My little creampot. You can squirm and be frustrated. Forever. You can stay locked up in your little cage. I’ll take you out to play with you, for a little bit, and put you back in. You can spill in your cage.”