Just like before she would surprise me with her hands on my groin, fondling my caged dick to see what would happen. The novel stimulation was a wonderful torment. My dick would try to grow just a little and then it would give up the ghost. She did this several times a day, sometimes in the middle of the night too. It was a game: a deliciously torturous game.
One day she came up to me and she stuck her hands, not just in my lap, but forcefully down my pants. She felt my bare skin through the cage. She fondled it for a long time. She fondled it reverently, but also with belligerent swipes. And when she was done she patted me on the cheek with just two words: "Cage check."
That became our new phrase: cage check was what we called it whenever she wanted to know that my urges were controlled. She would say 'cage check', and then she would touch my cage to prove it was still doing its job.
When my seven day prison sentence was up we met in the bedroom anxiously and ready to go. Jenni teased me, "You know only I have the key. What if I didn't let you out? What if I decided unilaterally to let you go another day or two?"
By then I was getting used to the chastity in some ways. I liked my dick having no control over me. I liked not being mastered by my lust. In all seriousness, I looked her square in the face, "If you want to go another day or two I could do it."
She teased me, "I COULD make you wait, you know. That makes me the boss. I'm the one wearing the proverbial pants." She paused, "But I need you. I do need to be close to you sometimes, and it's been a long time." She tossed me the key, "Now go take a shower." I fumbled the key and it fell on the floor and almost went down a heating vent. That would've been a disaster.
In the shower, without the cage on, I washed really well and I shaved too. It had been a while since I could shave. My stiffy just wouldn't give up too.
When I came out, Jenni was laying on her back in a sexy teddy. I jumped in bed and we made love. She even gave me a blowjob for about ten seconds, which was more than I'd had in the last year. When it was time to penetrate her wet pussy I fought to hold back. I fought as long as I could but only managed to delay my ejaculation for about five minutes and then I couldn't stop. Sadly, it was too soon as she hadn't had her orgasm yet.
Reaching into the drawer she pulled out her vibrator. "You know what you have to do now." I was only too glad to oblige.
Peeking between her legs, I saw wispy bits of erotic hair poking out as she rode that vibrator. It was so sexy I couldn't resist - I kissed the back of her thighs. I kissed closer towards the center, finally craning my neck and pushing my face as far as I could into that gap, I reached out with my tongue, and I licked her pussy lips as she rode that vibrator. She came instantaneously.
We settled into a routine, five to ten days wearing the cage and then a night of unbridled sex. It was the best arrangement we ever had. I even had a real blowjob once. True to her word she allowed me the internal finish I'd been craving. I really thought she might spit it out. And by the way she choked it down followed by a big chug of water from a glass she had ready just for that purpose you would think it must be a truly malignant liquid. So many women complain about the taste. I guess I was lucky to be born a man.
One night in bed, she was giving me a really long cage check. She was reading a book with her right hand while her left hand kept tracing designs on my dickskin. She would touch long enough for my dick to really hurt inside that little cage. Then just when the cage made me lose what swelling my dick could manage, her fingers would bring it back to life again. Half of me thought about stopping it but another half of me lived for the stimulation. Casually, she asked, "How long do you suppose we could prolong these days? We've gone as long as ten. Do you think we might make it eleven or twelve or fifteen?"
Honestly, it was a great idea. Sporadic great sex with the cage was way better than always being desperate for it and only getting rare mediocre sex in the end anyway. But I saw my chance to negotiate. "Suppose every time we made it twenty days we had oral with finishing in mouth and swallowing."
At first she laughed nervously, then she haggled, saying, "Thirty days with finishing in mouth and spitting." I jumped at it wholeheartedly. I guess I was too eager as she quickly tacked on dinner out once a week, a massage once a month, and me doing the dishes as often as she did.
This was serious. So I added some new terms of my own, "Everything you just said except with swallowing and I get to keep licking your pussy when you ride the vibrator once a week."
She smiled wryly. "So you wanna keep licking my pussy? Is this for me or for you?"
"Both." I answered. Then I joked, "This is getting complicated. I think we're gonna need a contract."
The next day at dinner she had an enigmatic envelope. She said, "I did some research too. You know we're not the only people doing what we're doing. I even found a sample contract all typed out and ready for us just to fill in the blanks."
I opened the envelope as she explained. "It only defines what happens in the bedroom and a few other things. Other than that everything stays the same."
At the top of the contract, it said: Master/sub Sex Contract. A huge thrill like never before ran through me. This is what I'd always wanted. I just didn't know it until now. I could barely turn the pages fast enough, skimming through, initialing and signing each page. She signed it too.
Then there was a hiccup. In my role as a consultant I needed to travel out of town for a week. It was even gonna put me out of town during the exact time the cage was supposed to come off. She suggested this was an opportunity for us to go extra long. I suggested maybe we shorten it this time. In the end we consulted the contract which said that in a circumstance like this she would win the dispute. And you know what? I was OK with that.
Once I got settled into my hotel I couldn't help but be tempted to remove the cage. I pondered that I could probably pry it off and put it back on again without her ever knowing, but I wanted to be honest so I called her and told her what I was thinking. Her reply was that if she could only do cage checks from long distance then she would know everything was good. I was just gonna have to practice self control.
The next day I was sorely enticed to take off the cage and jerk off. I sent her a text. "I'm struggling here." She said I had five minutes to get dressed and get down to the lobby for breakfast then she would know I wasn't doing anything uncontrolled.
At lunch in the men's room I was standing in front of the toilet and I was thinking how easy it would be to just squeeze that cage off, sit down on the toilet and give it a good wank. We should've bought a better cage.
I knew it was gonna be a long night. I decided to take it upon myself to do something about it. The original solution was to have an external control - the cage. I just needed another external control. I placed an ad in the online personals. It read, "Cock caged man seeks helper for cage check twice a day."
Within half an hour I had three replies to my ad. I talked to one of the guys and he seemed all right. Within the hour he was at my hotel room.
He was a stocky muscular dude in a hockey jersey. He didn't believe me at first. He didn't believe I really was all locked up in a cage and he certainly didn't believe my wife was really a part of it. I offered to prove it. First I tapped the remote control against the front of my pants. The metallic clinking sound was a sure giveaway. He said he was gonna have to talk to my wife in person. Pulling out his phone we called her.
He began, "I'm here with a guy who says he's your husband, average height and weight, black hair, he's about 45 years old, and he's wearing a metal cage in his pants."
She chuckled, "Yeah that's him all right. You're not a locksmith are you?"
I guess that's all he needed to know. They talked for a while, laughing at my expense
Then she reprimanded me. She said that if anybody needed to set anything up it should have been her, that all sexual decisions were to be made by her. But she added, what was done was done. I also had to acknowledge the truth of her sexual leadership by calling her Mistress from now on.
She talked to the guy one more time. Then she suggested he should send her a picture every time he checked the cage and he should probably get me to sign a contract. Jack wrote up a contract on hotel stationery stating very clearly that I was under no circumstances to remove my cage, that he was to check it twice a day, and that if I failed to let him check it, or if I took it off, there would be repercussions.
