Ben had long since known that he preferred, maybe even needed, to live in chastity. That night at the hotel, it had been even more important for Amy to relock his chastity cage as he needed to be under her lock and key when he proposed.
He had chosen to ask the question at dinner the next evening. By coincidence, Amy was wearing a floaty white dress with sheer material that had been threatening to spill her breasts all evening. It was semi-transparent in places and Ben had spent most of the meal stealing glances, hoping to discover just where his key might be hiding on this important night. Frustratingly, her tight, white thong and its secrets were impenetrable.
Amy had been stunned when he had asked her to marry him, almost confused as why he could possibly want such a thing. Her first response was simply, "You don't have to marry me... I will give you your key back if you want." Looking at Amy in her floaty dress with big emotional eyes framed by dark, silky hair, that was certainly not what he wanted.
"No, I just want you," Ben whispered, "... and please stop looking so amazing!" he laughed as he adjusted his steel stub, "That look when my cock has a month still to go is torture!"
"What look?" Amy grinned. To her that was a wonderful compliment and in no way a plea for freedom.
"So, will you marry me?" Ben tried again.
"But I'm a bitch."
Ben laughed in mock frustration as Amy's partly exposed breasts were causing him to leak through the narrow-centred bars of his locked cage, "Will you marry me, Amy?"
"This isn't just a ploy to get your key, is it?"
"Amy!"
"Yes of course!" she finally cried, sliding her chair noisily across the floor to hug him.
Ben produced the ring and slipped it on to Amy's finger, "Wow," she admired it from all angles, "... my third favourite possession."
"Third?"
Amy grinned as she placed her hand on his lap, "My cock.... my key.... and now my ring. Oh, Fuck, I'm horny!"
Ben ordered a bottle of champagne, and they ran back to their hotel room. Ben was strangely nervous. The reason he hadn't asked Amy until now was fear that this might change their keyholder relationship. Only the night before she had giggled her way into red panties and condemned him to a month in the cage. He was already planning how he would pleasure and delight her over the coming weeks, and he didn't want that to change.
Ben gently unwrapped Amy from her dress, a task that gravity completed for him. He ripped off his tight blue shirt and chinos and lay next to her on the bed, kissing and licking spilt champagne from each other's bodies.
With Amy gazing longingly into his eyes, Ben lay on top of her, his small steel stub resting against her open vagina. The shiny tip was pressing into her body, the warm steel lubricated by pre-cum oozing between the bars. He pushed deeper, treating her to his one inch of steel. Ben could feel the heat of her vagina, but nothing more. For Amy the smooth steel felt teasing, but it could never bring her to orgasm.
"It's all I have," Ben smiled, "I've been locked down by my mistress... and my fiancé."
"Fiancé," Amy just wanted to repeat the word, "She must be a bitch to keep you locked up on a night like this."
"I love her dominant and sadistic nature."
"Dominant and sadistic?" Amy exclaimed, clicking her fingers, and pointing down between her legs.
"And that's not dominant?" Ben teased.
"You don't have to obey..."
"I do if I ever want to see my cock."
In the same way as Ben was addicted to being caged, Amy was addicted to controlling their intimacy. She was audibly purring as Ben teasingly played with her sensitive nipples, and then slid down between her open legs. He kissed her clit as if worshipping her, and then gazed up with dilated brown eyes waiting to obey his mistress's next whim.
"Okay, maybe I have a slightly dominant side," she smiled.
"Only thirty days before I can make love to my fiancé," Ben mouthed, his lips jumping between Amy's thighs.
"Well, you chose this time to propose... and you know I'm a girl of my word."
"Fucking panties..."
"Lips on my vagina," Amy breathed, "... another word and it's two months."
Over the years, Amy had refined her innate ability to control Ben. Her lilting words may have been demure and softly spoken, but Ben knew that she never went back on her promises. Their games had once ended with Amy teasingly sentencing Ben to a night in the wooden trunk. She had only just clicked shut the padlock when she remembered that they were due at a friend's engagement drinks. Amy's paranoia, and fear of losing her cruel mystique, meant that she couldn't bring herself to unlock the trunk and so had to go to the drinks on her own.
But her ploy had worked with her every word now an unbreakable command. She just had to ensure that she didn't get too drunk and giggle Ben to a hundred years between her legs.
*
Amy loved being engaged. She had spent plenty of time fantasising about it and the reality made her even more obsessed with Ben. She had taken to walking around the house wearing only a lace bridal veil that she had bought from a costume shop. It hid nothing, and the look of passion reflected in Ben's eyes just made her hot. On several occasions, she had had to take Ben to bed and straddle his head to relieve her sexual tension.
Amy's heightened attentions were also felt in Ben's cage. On one occasion, filled with wonderful pent up sexual passion as he explored her naked body, Ben had had to pull himself away and run to the spare room with Amy in pursuit. Amy adored these moments where his passion, trust, and outright horniness for her became too much to bear.
"I'm naked, sweetie?" she teased, waltzing behind him.
"Just go away and lock the door," he laughed, fending her away.
Amy didn't and followed him into the small room, forcing Ben to playfully climb into the heavy wooden trunk, "Show some mercy," he laughed, his oozing cock imprinted with the bars of his cage, "Lock me away from your body?"
"Sure," Amy replied, sitting down on the open trunk, her bare bottom landing on his face, "Opps, guess I should close the lid first."
Amy knew it was cruel to stay sitting on his face while he kissed her cheeks and stroked his metal cage, but these were the moments where she felt most connected. She waited until her fiancé was on sexual fire, moaning into her butt, before jumping up and closed the heavy lid.
"Now I need your body!" Ben cried with laughter, his hormones spinning, "Don't lock me in!"
He continued to plead even though he knew his bride-to-be was sitting on the lid and the padlock had just scrapped against the hasp.
