The next week was fairly busy and we didn't really have time to play.
In the middle of the week, we did receive delivery of the cock and ball vice we'd ordered. Mistress decided to try it on me at bedtime.
I grabbed my collar and buckled it on, and I lay down on the bed. She unlocked my chastity cage, and I took it off. Then we started figuring out how to get the vice on.
The vice was basically a rectangular plastic box with three sides missing. The clear top was attached to the one existing side with a hinge. On the opposite side, there were two long metal screws with casters on them, which controlled how tightly the vice squeezed what was inside of it. On the bottom of the box toward the side with the hinge, there was a circular hole for my cock and balls to fit through.
We initially put it on with my cock pointing down toward the side with the screws. The head of my cock stuck out just past the end of the plastic, squashed between the top and bottom of the vice. Unfortunately, as Mistress tightened the vice, the sharp edges of the plastic started digging into the head of my cock in a way that I wasn't enjoying at all; I was actually a bit concerned that it was going to cut my skin. Also, we hadn't pulled my balls far enough down toward the end with the screws, so they weren't really feeling much pressure.
Then we opened it up again and tried a different position, with my cock off to the side and my balls pulled further down toward the screws. In that position, I could definitely feel the pressure on my balls, and Mistress seemed to enjoy watching my face as she tightened the vice.
Then we opened it up again to try one last position. We turned the vice around so that the open end faced my head instead of my feet, and we once again pointed my cock at the end of the vice. This time we pulled my balls further toward the end with the screws, and we put just a bit of tissue along the sharp edges of the vice to protect the head of my cock.
That approach seemed to work much better. As Mistress tightened it again, I could feel the pressure in my cock and balls without the distraction of the sharp edges digging into the head of my cock. She seemed to really enjoy watching my reaction as she tightened the screws.
Mistress played with the head of my cock, teasing it and smiling when she saw it trying to get erect in its prison. She also reached her fingers in from the sides to tease my balls with her fingernails.
I was enjoying submitting to her this way, and I was curious as to how much I could take.
"Mistress, can you try squeezing my balls?"
She looked at me to make sure I was serious. Then she reached so that her thumb and forefinger were on either side of my left ball, and she watched my face carefully as she squeezed.
I gasped at the incredibly intense sensation! My ball was already being squeezed from front and back by the vice, and now Mistress' fingers were squeezing it from top and bottom. The pressure was intense, a heady mix of pain and pleasure.
I could see Mistress watching my reaction carefully. "Is that too much?"
"No, Mistress. That's just fine. It's really intense."
"Good."
"Do you like seeing me like this?"
"Mmmm hmmm."
She moved her hand to the other side to repeat the experiment on my other ball, getting a similar reaction there. I was really enjoying her playing with me this way.
Unfortunately, she decided at that point that we were done for the night. "Okay, that's enough for now. Let's put this away and get to sleep."
"Yes, Mistress," I said, disappointed that we weren't going to do more than just experiment with it, but loving the fact that Mistress had a new toy that we both seemed to enjoy.
She took off the vice, and I removed my collar. I put them away. Then I put my chastity cage back on and let Mistress lock it back up.
We curled up together and went to sleep.
By the end of the week, I was really starting to feel needy again. I mentioned that to her on Friday night, but she was fairly tired that night. I hoped we'd play over the weekend.
Saturday morning, I woke up early. I was feeling horny, so I watched some femdom porn. I couldn't resist touching my cock through the bars of my cage. I didn't make myself cum, but I knew that my wife wouldn't have been happy with me anyway. However, I was feeling really needy, and in that moment, I rationalized to myself that she wouldn't really care.
I was still at it when I heard my wife stirring, and I guess knowing that I was going to see her shortly snapped me out of my arousal, because I instantly started feeling badly about what I'd been doing. I went upstairs and found her sitting on the toilet.
"Good morning, my love," I said, kneeling down in front of her.
"Good morning," she said, smiling at me.
I put my arms around her midsection and held her to me, turning my head to the side. I think she could tell that something was bothering me.
"Are you okay?"
I was quiet for a moment.
"Come on, out with it," she ordered, gently but firmly.
"I was bad this morning," I said apologetically, still holding her around her waist, not wanting to meet her eyes.
"How bad?" she asked in a serious tone.
I took a deep breath. "I was really horny, and I woke up early, so I was watching porn. And I couldn't resist touching myself."
"You know better than that," she said sternly. "I know that you were feeling needy, and we were going to play tonight. You couldn't have waited for that?"
"I didn't cum, Mistress," I said, not quite defensively.
"But you did touch yourself. You gave yourself pleasure without permission."
"Yes, Mistress," I admitted. She was right, after all. "I'm sorry."
"I'm going to add five more lashes to what you're going to get at the end of our next impact play session."
"Yes, Mistress," I said a bit sadly.
I had rationalized my actions by telling myself that she wouldn't really care that much, but she really did seem to be upset. I was feeling really badly about disappointing her, and I knew that I would accept whatever consequence she decided upon. But as I sat there hugging her and reflecting on what she'd said, something wasn't sitting right with me, and I was trying to figure out what it was.
Part of it was the fact that I'd really misjudged whether this was something that would truly bother her. I think that in my head, I'd somehow not really believed that she truly wanted full control over my pleasure, and I was starting to realize that she really did want that. And I felt really bad that I'd disappointed her -- that I'd given up a chance to serve her as I so badly desired to.
But an even bigger part of my unease was the idea of her punishing me with impact play.
For us, impact play was a bonding experience, something we did out of love. It was about her feeling comfortable exercising her sadism, trusting me to accept her and not run away in fear. It was about me indulging my masochism, trusting her to accept my kinks and not think less of me for them. It was about me giving her the gift of my submission and feeling the comfort of her dominance. It was about both of us being vulnerable with each other and feeling a strong connection with each other.
We had never used impact play as real punishment. My wife had recently been having me keep a tally of lashes she was going to give me for various minor infractions, but every time she'd told me she was going to add lashes, the alleged infraction hadn't seemed like something that had really upset her; it had seemed to me to be more like funishment for a pseudo-imaginary offence, not real punishment for something that could actually have real impact on our relationship and on how well we were meeting each other's needs.
I couldn't really imagine my wife using impact play for real punishment. Given how much effort we had both been putting in to trust each other and find the right level of intensity in impact play that worked for both of us, I couldn't imagine her undoing that trust by intentionally striking me hard enough to really hurt me. I doubted that she'd actually be able to do that, and even if she had, I didn't like the idea of where that would take our relationship.
But perhaps more importantly, I realized that the entire idea of punishment really didn't make sense for us. I didn't obey her because she forced me to or punished me when I didn't; I obeyed her out of love and out of a desire to give her my submission and to feel her dominance. We were both adult human beings, both responsible for acting worthy of each others' trust. And if we failed in that responsibility, we needed to talk it out and find a way to work out the problem, just like we always had.
But at the same time, I knew that in this particular case, what I'd done was something that touched directly on the D/s portion of our relationship, and I did want to do something to demonstrate to her that I was sorry. And if I could do that in a way that reinforced my gift of submission to her, so much the better.
But what could I do that would accomplish that? What consequence would be appropriate for the way in which I'd disappointed her?
Then it came to me.
I pulled away from hugging her to look up into her eyes. "Mistress?" I asked hesitantly.
"Yes?"
"I am truly sorry that I disappointed you, and I will accept whatever consequence you want me to. But I am wondering if impact play is really the right consequence here. It doesn't seem like it's a real deterrent, since we've been trying so hard to regain confidence with impact play, and I know you won't really push me past my limits."
"You might be right. Do you have an alternative suggestion?"
"I was thinking about what we read in 'Uniquely Rika', in which the author had said that the only punishment that really worked was the dominant denying the submissive the opportunity to serve her. I know that's certainly something that would be more upsetting to me than impact play."
She considered for a moment. "That's a good idea. Okay, in that case, you are not going to be allowed to serve me for two days."
I took a deep breath. Even though I'd been the one to suggest it, it hurt to hear her enforcing it. But it did seem appropriate in this case: I had done something that failed to serve her the way she wanted, so she was going to deny me the opportunity to serve her. If I wasn't doing it the way she wanted it, she wouldn't let me do it at all.
"Yes, Mistress."
So, for the rest of that weekend, we didn't play, even though we both wanted to.