BUTTERMILK BOWL (possibly Sadistic Spouse in Buttermilk Falls)
"But I've not cum in six weeks, Dusty" Crake Ingledew said to his demure spouse. Dusty looked up from her "Cosmo" long pink nails tapping an article discussing depilatory body hair removal.
She is so beautiful! Crake thought. Languid hazel eyes with long lashes, the dark eyebrows frowning irritably, and oh, that flawless skin.
When she looked perturbed, or even angry, it seemed to inflame Crake even further in excessive horniness. His penis was filling with blood rapidly. Locked in a barbed wire cock cage, it wasn't entirely comfortable.
Once known as "Crake the Rake" a playboy womanizer in the Central West End of Buttermilk Falls, Crake was a changed man. He'd even had his mermaid tattoo painfully removed from his arm and had it replaced with a bouquet of roses...for Dusty.
Crake was a one man woman, although that woman had not had sex with him in almost sixteen years.
For the past seven years, however, his penis had been locked in a variety of chastity belts, tubes, and pouches, and his orgasms had been few and far between.
"Six weeks is such a long time, Goddess." Crake tried not to plead or whine. He was so horny, and his cock was about to burst the bars of the little cage.
When he wasn't horny, his penis barely took up an inch of the cage...
Crake had not been able to use a urinal in many years, had to go on the toilet like a girl, because of the chastity paraphernalia, but he marveled at how hard and elongated his dick became when he got so excited by his Goddess.
Or even watching secretaries or college girls bouncing down Buttermilk Boulevard...
Miss Windom, his admin, had kissed his neck drunkenly at the office Christmas party, and his dick had been injured in the cruel crotch jail from such an open desire.
And then of course, when he'd told Dusty about it after the party, Dusty, enraged at his desire for Miss Windom, had thrashed his penis with a bamboo cane that they'd picked up when touring Singapore.
Now, he just wanted a little break. Dusty looked so intensely sexual, long legs and the ballooning chest...her gorgeous face in this deadpan bored look.
"Six weeks...look at how purple my peeter is."
"Six weeks? Yeah?" Dusty inserted a Virginia Slim between her full, glossy pursed lips, and Crake leaned over quickly to light it.
His own upper lip still felt weird from having shaved his beloved handlebar moustache the night before. Crake had had the moustache since his senior year of high school, and he'd always been so proud of it.
But Dusty loved playing "Dress up slut training" and had insisted Crake get rid of the 'stache, saying that after it was gone, when she made him up, he would look like Martha Stewart, which would be hilarious.
Crake had cried over this, he loved his facial hair, but he wanted to be on his wife's good side. There was a football party he wanted to host, and he had to keep her in a good mood.
But he was so horny!
"Please, Miss Dusty?"
"Six weeks? It may be another six weeks till you cum, Crake. At least two and a half...You really don't want to irritate me today, of all days?"
No, he didn't want to piss Dusty off, this close to the party. If she cancelled it, he would have to call the guys, and he wouldn't get to see Smitty, who had been gone for many years.
And in general, Dusty didn't like being pressured about jerking off privileges.
Once Crake had been begging her, and she'd invited him to take off his clothes, and then she'd thrashed him with a vacuum cleaner cord...
And she'd had a month added to Crake's already very long chastity sentence.
When he was allowed to masturbate, kneeling at her glorious feet, it was so much fun. Sometimes she would stomp on his balls, grinding them into the hardwood floor as he wanked away...
But there was always a powerful splatter of semen, and then of course, licking it up. Which was repulsive, but oh well.
But now Crake backed off, teetering on his six inch Capezios.
Crake was clad in nothing but long black fishnet stockings, which encased his flabby thighs like a bad sausage. He also had a garter belt to support the stockings...
Crake was very turned on by this embarrassing outfit, and in fact had selected it for himself back in the day. But it was freakish to be wearing this get up outside on the deck in the back yard.
He really needed a drink to process all the humiliation.
But the last time he'd mentioned cocktails, Dusty had given him a Jack Daniels enema and then hung him by his pierced nipples, a cruel metal threaded through the holes, and now he didn't complain TOO much about being exposed outside.
The garter belt-stockings-heels outfit suited Crake as a sad suburban sissy boy.
When he returned from work, Crake stripped off his gray flannel suit, donning the "other" outfit before dropping to his knees to wait for his wife, who worked a little later in the little candle shop Crake had set up for her...
It didn't make much money, but it made Dusty happy, and we all want that.
Crake shouldn't complain. One of the submissives in his Men's Chastity Group had given his wife a damn art gallery...that was expensive!
The girls, exuberant nineteen year olds Selden and Salem had been shielded from Daddy's peculiarities until they'd finished high school, and now they found the whole thing hilarious.
Seldi even gave her father hairbrush spankings when she thought he was being "bitchy."
Though, if Daddy wants to run around in his goddamn birthday suit, he should consider doing some spin classes, maybe lifting weights, but otherwise they just let it go.
Being naked in front of his pretty clothed daughters was quite mortifying for Crake, but of course that made him even more excited.
Now, he focused on his wife, who, at forty-three, still looked like an older sister of the twins. God what a gorgeous creature!
Enjoying the summery day on the back deck, which Crake and several of his pals from the Men's Chastity Group had built wearing these same outfits, their wives urging them on with whips and canes...
