Ever since I first started getting the urge I'd dreamed of orgasm denial for me while being forced to give marathon cunnilingus sessions to my partner. If I'm honest I have always jumped at the chance of eating fanny so I don't need much forcing. Throw in being locked into some kind of male chastity device and you pretty much have my ideal wanking fantasies. My first wife told me I was sick and refused any bit of it. My second wife, while willing to play would never go quite as far as I wanted.
Not that I'm complaining, Sue would go much further than any other girl I'd met until then. We once went to Amsterdam for four days, I could have spent four days in the sex museum in De Wallen, one of them just looking at the cunnilingus chair on display.
My second wife passed away three years ago and I pretty much tried to forget about sex, you can't though can you? Well, I can't!
I am pretty handy. A mechanical engineer by trade and I have a very very well-equipped garage. I ran my own company specialising in industrial conveyor installation and maintenance. One day I had a pretty good idea. I patented it, sold it to a big outfit from Manchester and retired.
Then I got bored so I switched to making what Sue called "my nefarious devices". I made half a dozen male chastity devices over the years, and a couple of them worked.
Of the ones that did, without the key or grinding wheels and much heat close to your important bits, I wasn't getting out. My second wife played with me with them, but the longest time I ever did in one was, not quite a full day.
I like working with wood as well. I brought up the subject of the cunnilingus chair a few times but it was a step too far for her. She let me make her a queening stool with wrist cuffs. We could put that up in the attic when we had visitors staying, but that was as far as it went. I spent a good few hours over the years with my head buried between her thighs. Sometimes in some bondage, sometimes not. Sometimes even with a cock cage locked on but as soon as she had come the cage came off and she would get me off in various ways. That's what she enjoyed so it would have been churlish to argue.
I made her a chastity belt. Though that's exactly what it wasn't I used it to lock toys in her. Used to drive her halfway round the bend. She has been gone now for three years and I miss her still. She would give anything a go.
One of the jobs I'd never got round to and one I really should have done for her, she always wanted a nice shoe/boot rack. She well knew the power her footwear held over me. And she wanted to display them in our room. Sue had a pretty extensive collection of erotic footwear. From classic court shoes to three pairs of what she and her best childhood mate Paula called her "mad heels". She would not wear platform soles but I did get away with buying her, from The Little Shoe Shop a pair of thigh-high boots with hidden platforms and a six-and-a-half-inch heel. My favourites, I loved them. Loads of other extreme shoes as well. Most had a 5-inch stiletto at least. I talked to Paula, she thought it a fantastic idea to finally do it. She even promised to come round, polish the shoes and arrange them. You just could not leave a job like that to a man.
So approaching her third anniversary I took myself down to our local reclaim wood yard and bought some ridiculously priced Japanese oak. I'd thought about this for years. I knew what I needed. When I got to the counter with my timber the guy on the counter, a friend called Dave, said we have a load of black oak going cheap. I thought about it for a moment, but black leather shoes on a black stand. Sue would never have forgiven me!
So I bought my yellow Japanese oak, paid for the delivery and went to leave. Outside. I saw the pile of black oak. It was a huge reclaimed staircase. Obviously from a place that should have been listed, it probably was but unless it's grade one with machine gun towers at each corner if some spiv wants it down to build a dozen ugly modern slums it's coming down.
I like oak, especially if it's old, I can turn it and mill it on my tool room lathe and vertical mill. It's just the best wood for working accurately. I immediately thought of my cunnilingus chair. OK, I had no one to use the top seat, no one to fasten me in, no one to squeal with delight as I sent her off again into hyperspace. That didn't matter a jot, I had a nefarious project. I went back in and bought the lot. I got it for a song and the delivery for both was a one-off payment.
I'd taken dozens of photographs of the Dutch chair. Thank god for digital cameras. They gave me a good start, I didn't want a copy though, I wanted something unique. This was going to take some thinking. I needed to consider this very carefully.