There comes a threshold beyond which abandonment is finally achieved.
"You can light this now." It was an innocuous statement, delivered in a slightly annoyed tone of voice, justified by my lengthy pause while I contemplated the situation. I heard her give me permission, in the same way that she might have said, "you can cum now." I seemed to be doing that a lot lately, assuming sexual overtones where none were intended.
My perceptual misappropriation of mundane dialogue had been increasing in frequency ever since Erin and I had begun testing the limits of our curiosity about Domme/sub relationships. But my conversion was not the boner-inducing rocket ride I had been anticipating. It was a process. Don't get me wrong, neither of us were complaining. I was working at relinquishing control and giving myself permission to submit to a female-led version of sexual release. Not an insignificant aspiration, considering the depth of my previous commitment to male-dominated coitus.
My wife Erin was finding herself delighted with the results of assuming a more assertive role in our relationship. She appeared to be blossoming with characteristic panache and abandonment. Her enjoyment was contagious and surprisingly, I found myself eager to satisfy her wants, rather than simply using her to satisfy mine as had previously been the case. She was discovering some different ways of behaving too, like taking advantage of me to fulfill her own fantasies. She told me that turning the tables on me was enlightening, in terms of taking pleasure like she hadn't imagined possible before. Erin was finding the experience more than a little self-rewarding, so she decided that daily practice was preferable, even necessary, to achieve our goals.
"The splif?" she reminded me. "Pay attention honey. You look like you're preoccupied with something other than me," she joked.
I leaned over and lit the end of the joint. I felt my cock tingle. I told her. She looked at me for a long thoughtful minute, her eyes half-closed. Then she blew a column of smoke in my face.
"Take your clothes off." She watched me decide to obey. Then she watched me strip.
My conversion to sub status involved achieving a number of shared objectives. One of our goals was my unquestioning obedience where sex was involved. We had agreed that my moods and preferences would have no bearing on my compliance. I would do what I was told, when she told me and for as long as she wanted me. She agreed not to over-demand obedience at inappropriate times. But she had the final decision concerning when, where and for how long we had sex. She also insisted on controlling my orgasms. I was simply not allowed to cum without her supervision.
I stood naked waiting for instructions. She inspected her naked man from face to feet, finally indicating with a gesture that I should adopt a wider stance. I spread my legs about three feet apart and clasped my hands behind me, like I had been taught. My erection was so hard it was almost painful. She ignored my boner and got straight to the point, no pun intended.
"So let me see if I have this straight. You started to get horny over having my permission to do some inane thing that you wanted to do anyway? That's interesting. Know what I think? I think you're starting to get turned-on by following orders. You stripped just now because I told you to, and complying made you hard. Look at your cock. I haven't even touched it and it's twitching with anticipation. Do you know what that means to me?" She wanted to know.
"No, I don't," I admitted.
"No, I guess you don't. Maybe that's because you are just a stupid sex-slut, good for fucking but that's about it. Well, perhaps that's not important. Maybe you don't need to understand. Maybe you just need to do what you're told. Stand closer." I shuffled nearer the woman who decided when or even if, I could cum. She was right. I didn't need to understand anything. We already discussed this. I just needed to do what I was told and stay hard, that's all. Simple. Even a fuck-toy like me could remember that.
Her eyes traveled up and down my body. I could see by her expression that she liked what she saw and that made me feel accomplished, like I was providing her with the means to satisfy her lust. I was her tool. Her hand trailed across my stomach and down my thigh. The tips of her fingers traced the length of my erection then left it quivering. Leaving me stiffer and waiting for attention, she stepped back and appraised her work.
"I've been giving your inability to comply with my 'no-playing with yourself' rule some thought," she began. I started to protest but she cut me off.
"Oh don't bother," she said. "I know you can't help it and I don't blame you, I'm just trying to problem-solve a barrier here." Erin reached into a desk drawer and pulled out a small metal device. I knew what it was. I could not be trusted to leave my cock alone, so she would make sure I was unable to disobey. She was going to keep me locked up when I wasn't being used.
"Technically it's a male chastity device but I call it a man-cage. It will ensure that no other hands but mine touch your cock, including yours. I'm sure you can imagine what an advantage this will give me in establishing control, right?" Erin cocked her head to one side and dangled the little cage in her fingers provocatively. I nodded my head but said nothing.
We have discussed this option before," she reminded me. "At that time you were pretty much in favor of whatever was going to heighten your arousal. Is that still the case?" She flipped the cock cage casually in her hand, waiting for me to finish extrapolating what this might mean for me. But I had already been anticipating the deprivation, the craving for release, the need to submit to anything just to feel her hand on my cock.
"I mean, I like the idea myself but I'm not the one who will be wearing it while I'm swollen and desperate." The corners of her mouth curved up a little as she imagined what that might feel like for me. "Still, with this thing on you I know for sure you're not cheating and you can't give in to temptation, doesn't matter how horny you get." She produced a tiny lock and key. "I'll wear this key on the ankle bracelet you bought me last year. So you'll know where to find release," Erin grinned.
I blew out some air and nodded. "Ok, let's do it. It's tough not bringing myself off after you have had your fun and put me away hard," I admitted. Erin smiled, knowing my compliance was a foregone conclusion.
"Do I need to handcuff you or are you capable of restraining yourself while I fit you into this?" Erin asked, while she opened the lock on a very short, curved metal cage. I stared at the cock cage, apprehension apparent on my face.
"Clasp your hands on top of your head," Erin instructed. "Shove your hips toward me and stay still. Hmm, we're going to need to get rid of that boner first." Using my stiff cock as a handle she pulled me toward the fridge. Five minutes later an ice pack softened my cock enough to work with.
Her fingers moved quickly and almost before I knew it, a metal ring was slipped over my genitals and my cock was forced into a permanent non-erect shape, but the cage left my balls free to play with. The tiny lock snapped shut and I watched her clip the key onto her ankle. It felt comfortable as long as my cock was soft. But then she weighed the whole caged package in the palm of her hand and I felt my dick try to stiffen.
"Erin, can we try this after you let me cum please?" My cock ached and it filled the little metal cage. "Please Erin," I begged, but there was no use.
"I think that's all for today," Erin replied. "Put your pants back on, it's almost time to go. We are meeting Linda for drinks this evening at that local bar we were curious about. Remember the place?"
I remembered a crowded little place with more than a few female patrons that might cause me to wish I hadn't agreed to this mechanical solution to my lack of will power. But it was too late to argue exacerbating circumstances. In fact I suspected we were going out with Linda exactly because Erin wanted to watch me squirm while she withheld my relief.
"What's the matter honey? Don't you want to have a few drinks with two attractive women while your cock is locked up?" Her smile deepened and her hand slid down to my crotch and fondled my exposed balls affectionately. "Just imagine how it will feel when the cage gets removed." She squeezed and was rewarded with a grunt. "No underwear for you tonight. Wouldn't want to lull you into believing everything's normal. I'm sure you'll agree David, normal is about to become a distant memory."
The bar was crowded for a weekday. Fortunately Linda had arrived earlier and had saved a couple of seats at a small table close to a three-piece band that was already playing. In my hyper-aroused state it seemed to me that the women must have agreed beforehand to deliberately wear boner-inducing clothing. Erin's athletic frame was wrapped in a loose-fitting, low-cut dress that barely concealed her braless breasts. Her friend chose to wear jeans that might have been spray-painted onto her perfect thirty-something year-old ass, along with a cut-off T-shirt that hung off her tits like a napkin draped over a desert tray. I felt my cock swell, but there was nowhere to go with that. It was an odd, strangely pleasurable discomfort. We snuggled in, knee-to-knee, shouting over the music.
"Hey Dave, want to dance?" Linda yelled over the clamor of a bunch of horny men and women trying to get laid before morning.
Dance? I barely trusted myself to walk. Linda winked at me like she knew what was going on then pulled Erin to her feet and onto the dance floor. Did my wife tell her best friend what we were doing? Did Linda know my cock was straining against the cage Erin had locked around it?
Watching Linda and Erin dance together demonstrated why our friends said they were 'hot'. Their gyrating was making me more than just uncomfortable. I squirmed against the table, helpless and getting hornier by the second while they smiled at me. I watched them do a slow bump and grind to the music as my cock tried to achieve the impossible. I knew Erin was well aware that she was torturing me. I hoped she had a plan for later, cause I sure as hell couldn't do anything about it on my own. Knowing that just made my cock try harder. The women danced like they didn't notice that I was being tormented.
Erin and Linda pulled their chairs up close on either side of me so we could hear one another over the music. But it soon became apparent that I was only a peripheral part of the conversation. The two women leaned into me as if I were a piece of furniture. On my left side Erin pressed her hands flat on my thighs, resting her weight on her arms so she could get her face closer to Linda. On my right, Linda bent her left elbow and leaned against my shoulder to get closer to Erin. Her fingers played absent-mindedly with my hair while she chatted with her friend. I suspect she was not unaware of what she was doing. Her other hand braced her weight against my right thigh. After an hour or so of chatting, with Linda almost sitting on top of me and deliberately bouncing her tits in my face, Linda leaned into me again to yell at Erin over the music. "We're still getting together tomorrow afternoon, right?"
"Absolutely," Erin assured her friend. "Come over at one, we'll have a drink or two by the pool."
Linda tilted her head sideways and smiled at me, her face inches from mine. "Will you be around David?" My throat was suddenly very dry. Linda's hand was only a few inches away from my straining, metal-encased cock. I would have done anything to close that distance right then. I tried to articulate a response, but no luck.
"Sure, we'll both be home tomorrow afternoon," Erin answered for me. Linda smiled curiously at me then pecked us both on the cheek and left.
"You like Linda, right?" Erin asked me.
