Letter From Tanglevale

Dear Shoeblossom

Truffles loves giving me a scented bubble bath on the night of my ninety day release-after three months in the cruel tube, my dick is finally out for business, and it's a thrill having her pretty hands rubbing and washing it, as well as all over...

She knows how to make me quite excited, washing under my arms, etc.

When the bath is over, Truffles dries me off and leads me to the bed. She has me lie down, and ties my hands to the headboard and begins running her nails up and down my shaft.

Sometimes she will take my cock in her mouth, kissing the fevered tip with her full lips.

But she's trained me not to move my hips up. I want of course to shove my dick in her mouth deeper. All those long days and weeks of not having a release seem to grate on me.

"Baby, why do you want to rush it?" Truffles murmurs. "You know after you have your messie, it's back in the lock-up for another three months. Let's draw out the fun, shall we?"

On the bed I lie motionless as she massages my entire body, mostly ignoring my cock, and then returning to it now and then, with her lips and her tender fingers.

Now and then Truffles will pretend to be perturbed, and she pouts and threatens to lock my belt back on for another month, just so I can focus...

And I end up begging and crying...I've worked so hard, I've endured her tantrums and punishments for months and months. I've served her bisexual lover from time to time.

She loves watching me beg...Truffles rubs her breasts and stretches languorously in front of me, and titters at my pleading eyes...it's a great experience for her, and really, also for me.

It's amazing. I've always fancied myself a leader from the start. Editor of my high school yearbook, varsity in cross country and track, All state band clarinetist...Eagle Scout, appointment to West Point...though I was kept out of the Army in the end because of bone spurs...

I thought I was a leader, but I end up serving cruel men and women!

And I must say, Truffles is one of the fiercest...under that unruly torrent of auburn curls lies a devious mind...oh she's tough.

And she keeps me locked up so long...when she finally takes off the device and toys with me, I am over the moon...

All that tension, so horny. It's hard to describe what three months of constant visual stimulation can do to a locked up wee-wee.

My secretary, her glorious legs, and the flirtatious eyes, the glossed lips...the other secretaries, college girls playing Frisbee in the park, impudent hitch-hikers, in their slutty Daisy Duke cut-off shorts!

And of course Truffles herself. Wearing her riot of curls in a sort of pompadour, and jiggling the sort of bouncy mammaries that are just so distracting.

We don't live together, yet, but I visit her a lot, and I try to bring her lots of orgasmic joy.

My tongue can be a busy beaver during my long chaste periods. Truffles laughs a lot at how silly I look before I dive between her legs.

I have a fairly muscular build and then the little metal tube is such a contrast, swinging between my legs.

When I don't see Truffles, I spend a lot of time thinking about my poor cock, trapped as it is in the device...and I imagine her mocking smile!

I try desperately to stimulate my trapped organ by pushing pencil tips and toothpicks in the tiny sieves in the crotch prison, but that is less stimulating than painful.

I call her "Truffles" because a truffle is a sort of treasure that is found by a desperate pig, and what better example than she and I, right?

And Truffles is not my first teasetrix. I have served teasing ladies in Vienna, Milan, Crete, Madrid, Beijing, Tokyo, Bermuda, Mexico City, Caracas, Melbourne, and Darfur...

Mistress Mintleaf, a gamine blonde I once knew, loved my chastity device and her idea was, once a week I would be allowed, after extensive teasing, to reach into a leather bag filled with labeled Ping-Pong balls.

"C'mon, Cosgrove" Minty would say as she shook her tits at me. "Are you feeling lucky?"

Rarely did I draw the ball with "Fuck Minty" on it. If I was fortunate I might get "unlocked for 5 minutes masturbation" but the bag was filled with unlucky, troublesome balls that said stuff like "Stay Locked, Take a Whipping" or "Stay locked-Draw again in Two Weeks"

As I paid Mistress Mintleaf five hundred bucks per visit, whatever the outcome was, it was tough, believe you me!

My cousin Covington tried to get me to give up pounding my pud so I could join him in a Jesuit seminary. And Cousin Covey was a tough master.

Covey and I had always been fiercely competitive, but of course he knew of my submissive desires.

At twenty-one, I was a strapping college graduate, and I had applied to the seminary in question. Covey and I had often wrestled with the codicil that the winner would get to whip the loser's bare buttocks with a cut willow branch.

Covey was four years older than I but I was far stronger. Still, I always let him win.

Disrobing before my handsome, contemptuous relative was more than a bit embarrassing, but the thrashing I got from him afterwards, the cruel willow cutting into the sensitive area just beneath my ass cheeks made me forget all that.

I always ended up weeping violently in front of him, and Covey often would take me by the scalp and make me lick and kiss his boots.

And more than once, I was given the additional penalty of servicing his big cock!

When I came to covey and confessed that I couldn't stop jacking off, he became quite angry. He had recommended me to the seminary and of course they didn't want an impure sort soiling the damn place up!

I lasted about two weeks in the seminary before Covey once again discovered me touching my nasty spots...

He dragged me into the seminary cow barn and stripped me and tied me on my back over a harsh wooden carpenter's bench.

I lay there in terror with the wood narrowly digging into my ass and watched Covington apprehensively.

Covington took a thorny branch from the bramble bush in the side field and thrashed my errant penis until I was screaming.

He invited a line of seminarians to take turns using the branch on my penis and nipples and then my entire body, in the hope it would teach me not to be such an onanist.

Then, to prove I wasn't self-centered, I did beg the young men, all in their mid twenties to let me service their many penises, it seemed like such a good way to make amends.

But after all that was over, my jaws numb from the fellatio, and my stomach full of gallons of semen, I put my clothes back on over my stinging body, realizing I was too filthy minded to be a priest.

And I drove away that night, in search of other ways to combat my desire to touch myself!

I was very aroused by the idea of erotic teasing and orgasm denial. And of course I knew that masturbation and illicit sex with men and women distracted me from academic and athletic pursuits.

I took a job selling surgical supplies and began travelling the world, and I met dominas and Masters and other sadistic experts. I hoped that one or two would successfully curb my baser needs.

One woman, who I met in the Netherlands was a deviant bitch called Dagmar.

Dagmar believed that I just needed harsher punishment to make me stop being so damned self grabby.

Dagmar pierced the head of my cock and she put a large ring in it, similar to the sort of ring one locks into the nostrils of a bull.

Dagmar then chained this ring to a wall.

So there I was, my poor penis chained to a wall, the penile ring poking out of my glans...

There were literally three feet of chain, and that wasn't the worst part.

Dagmar would begin stroking my penis, especially the cock head until I was bulging.

And then she referred to the cane!

Imagine it-Dagmar whacking at my poor cock, which of course could only dodge so far to escape the lashes. I mean, I was chained by the cruel hoop piercing, so I was kind of stuck just trying to pull away, oh...

I'd pull back-it hurt, I stop, the cane landed implacably on my Willy some more...and how Dagmar enjoyed this!

Blythe, my first wife had been pleased and amused when I showed her the chastity device on our wedding night. Immediately she locked me, and I went the entire three week honeymoon without a spurt...

Really, Blythe felt that men are too much into pestering for the whole sex thing.

"But on the other hand, Coz, it annoys me that you'd want to touch yourself without me around, being such a nasty little boy!"

Blythe was a bisexual and had a girlfriend called Nita, who moved in with us, despite my objections after the wedding.

Blythe was a gorgeous woman, but Nita was a 240 pound bull dyke with a slight moustache...and she was quite irritable, to my detriment.

Blythe was quite enthusiastic with her Australian cattle whip, and Nita enjoyed using a rubber police truncheon from her native Venezuela...

When I was at home, I kept that house clean, let me tell you.

And, every two weeks I would kneel before the ladies, naked, of course, and I would roll dice.

The two would laugh and make fun of me in Spanish, which I don't understand, but then we'd all focus on the results of the dice...

Would I get sevens? This afforded me the privilege of rubbing my penis against Blythe's high heel while Nita blew BBs at my dick through a straw.

The stinging pellets did distract me, and Nita lobbed them so well. But if I focused I would spurt onto Blythe's shoe within three minutes or be locked without orgasm for another fortnight...

Elevens from the dice garnered a cock whipping with an old curtain rod that Nita had found in the garage.

And I'd not get to cum, I'd be re-locked, so tearfully and 2 more servile weeks until my next "chance"...

A score of three from the roll resulted in a phone call. We were living in a luxury apartment building that I owned, and three big gay guys who lived next door would come in and have their pipes cleaned by my reluctant mouth...and the chastity belt would not be removed at all...

Several of the tenants in that building lived rent free and in turn used their implements to force the landlord to clean their apartments and service their needs...several nights a week...

Or Blythe might not feel like letting me roll again!

An eight from the die let me jerk off into my own mouth, my hips above my head, but Nita would always be standing behind me, lashing away with a car ariel from a '63 Chevrolet...

Often the assorted tenants would crowd into the apartment and clap and watch me rub my fevered schlong, and scream "Red Light" and "Green Light" making me stop and start again.

Blythe's efforts made me appreciate an intense orgasm, and I really am grateful that she taught me self control.

I valued cumming far more than I had in the days that I was banging waitresses, secretaries and super-models nightly.

Finally, though-Blythe and Nita decided to leave me and move to some weird Greek island, but I will never forget them!

Zelide, my second wife was young and very into video games. She had a challenge that I guess I could appreciate. I loved the "Galaga" game of my 80's high school years.

Zelide promised if I could get to a certain level on "Galaga" she would take a day off my sixty-day chastity sentence.

However, if I couldn't make it in three tries, and all my ships were shot, Zelide would add a week, and of course while I was playing the damn game, she'd parade around in front of me in delicious lingerie, and sometimes jump on my lap and kiss my neck, which was distracting.

Zelide was a past master at teasing, and had another lover who also had to earn his orgasms, and she actually made that guy control the joystick with his mouth!

Zelide was a punk-rock sort, and sometimes would have her band practice very loud while I tried to focus on the game every sixty days or so.

She found a lover she liked better than me, and left me for him, but Zelli found a way to keep me going with my chaste activities.

Zelide set a lock with a changing pass code on my chastity device and when I did well on the computer games, with her teasing me on Skype, as she'd moved across the country, I might get the combination.

And she loved using Skype to humiliate me. Sometimes she would be sucking her boyfriend's cock and telling me what a weenie-peenied little bitch I was, and how I could never qualify for an orgasm with her.

But now and then I would get the pass code and get out to wank.

But again, the levels got higher. I went from being required to reach Galaga level four to level nineteen during the years Zelide and I were married, and it was hard-I'm not well coordinated!

But over the next eight years after our separation, I was required to go up to seventy every two months...and I had not known this to be a level on Galaga!

And, every time I reached an appropriate score in the appropriate time, she seemed to order me to go to a new level. During those eight years, since I was locked except for maybe once in 2 months for ten minutes, I didn't get to fuck anyone else, it was just that occasional masturbation privilege when I made the score...

Finally Zelide and I broke it off, and I gave computer-password privileges to Truffles, who I really hope to make my third wife!