All the Signs Were There to See

She let out a heavy sigh and pushed me gently to the side.

"Are you serious?" she said with a frown.

"I'm sorry, darling," I replied, "I can do better."

"There has to be more to life than this," she almost shouted with a scowl, then she slumped down on the bed with her back to me.

It was a Sunday afternoon. She had playfully dragged me up the stairs about 10 minutes earlier, indicated that I should lie on the bed and disappeared into the en suite bathroom.

Two or three minutes later, she emerged wearing the sexiest ensemble I had ever seen. A pink lingerie set, with soft cup bra, a slightly transparent and apparently slightly moist thong and a garter belt, which was attached to sheer black stockings. She did a twirl then leapt on top of me.

I have no idea why, but although I felt like I had the most powerful erection of my life and was about to ejaculate like a fire hose, when I looked down. my barely 4 inches were hanging limply.

She grabbed my balls gently and dug her fire engine red nails into my scrotum. She massaged me, pulling my equipment away from my body, kneading, stroking. It felt good. I looked down. Floppy, like a slug in her patient hands.

She squeezed firmly.

"Get hard, you f*cker!" she exclaimed. This is when she slumped on the bed and turned away from me.

In a wavering voice, I said "Is it because I'm so..."

She turned round and replied fiercely "I HAVE had bigger. You KNOW this, but look at it!"

It was still floppy and pathetic looking. She had turned away again. She turned halfway back towards me.

"You KNOW what the problem is, don't you?"

Without giving me a chance to respond, she continued "Don't think I don't know! You spend too much time playing with it."

I started to deny this indignantly, but before I could really begin, she interrupted "I see the stains all over your undies, I've even found a crusty sock or two."

A tear came to one eye. She continued more gently "Look! I know you're never going to grow another 6 inches down there, but if you could at least get hard for me once in a while..."

Her saying 6 inches hit me like a punch in the gut. Had she really been with a man packing TEN INCHES?! She had turned away from me again.

"I promise I won't touch it all week. You'll see!"

She turned towards me and replied "Look, I think you sometimes don't even know that you're doing it. I've woken in the night with you playing with it, rubbing against me."

"Listen," she said, "something must change! I'm not going to carry on like this. I'll have to reconsider my options."

My heart stopped for a moment, before I whimpered "I'll do anything!"

She rolled her eyes and asked "For example?"

I went bright red. She looked at me with the beginnings of a smile.

"What's this? Do you have an idea?"

I'm sure I must have gone redder still. She looked at me expectantly.

"Well, I've heard that there are..."

At precisely that moment, her phone rang. It was her best friend and I knew that they would be gabbing for an hour at least. I didn't really listen to her rapid fire speech, but she slowed down a little and said "Actually, he might just have been about to say something interesting. Hold on."

Covering the mouthpiece, so her friend could not hear, she asked "Well?"

She was already jabbering away with her friend when I stuttered "I've heard... that that... there are chastity... devices."

I thought she hadn't heard me. Almost a full minute later, without interrupting her chat with her friend, she looked at me and raised her thumb. It seemed that she liked the idea. Needless to say I didn't.

When I returned from work on Wednesday, she ushered me into the lounge and patted the sofa next to her, indicating that I should sit, She handed me a small package. I just held it for a moment.

"Well, I knew that you wouldn't go and buy one, so I did. It's called a Holy Trainer. It's one of the smaller ones, which won't be a problem for you..."

She chuckled throatily, before continuing. "Go online. Read up about it. I want you to be wearing it before bed. Now there is a choice. There is a titanium padlock, which you are unlikely to be able to remove without injuring yourself... OR there are numbered plastic tags which you... which a real man could snap in a second. I'll leave it up to you."

The jibes (smaller one, no problem for you, real man) hit me like punches. She had already left the room. I heard her urinating in the en suite. A minute or two later, she emerged from the bathroom and tossed a razor blade and some foam onto the bed, saying "It will look better if you are completely smooth... er... maybe without hair IT will look a bit bigger." She left the room chuckling, before calling back "See you at ten. Take your time. We don't want you to cut yourself."

I heard her chatting again, presumably on the phone to her bestie. I didn't move for several minutes, then I opened the package.

It had seemed light, so I was surprised to find a piece of metal inside the box and didn't really understand what it was.

I picked up my smartphone and entered 'Holy Trainer' into the search engine.

The first thing I saw was a row of metal pieces, similar to the one in the box. They were labelled XXS, XS, S, O. I could see that 'my' device was XXS, the smallest possible size. I was annoyed. She really knew how to put me down.

What did she have to complain about anyway? I earned good money and had provided a wonderful, luxurious home full of the finest furniture and all kinds of electronic gadgetry. I had heard several of her girlfriends say that it was the best house any of them had ever seen.

Just as I was about to get up and tell her in no uncertain terms that I wanted no part of this nonsense, she breezed into the room and put a bowl on the bedside table.

"You'll be needing this. See you at ten."

Then she was gone. The bowl was three-quarters full of ice.

I fumed silently. I must have dozed off for a while, but when i opened my eyes, I realised that I was stroking myself quite vigorously. Suddenly, although I wasn't even fully erect, creamy white liquid started to poor from my tiny tool. I reached around for something to catch the mess and grabbed my wife's short nightie from under her pillow. Before I could even think about what a terrible idea this was, I had soaked the skimpy item.

Having arranged to have the house completely fitted with every possible electronic device, I should have noticed the flashing red light on the wall, high above the bed.

[To be continued]