CanuckInNJ Pushing Her to Decide

I realized recently that chastity would remain nothing more than a distant dream unless I took some rather drastic action. So I kind of pushed her to make a decision. Yes, yes, I know. Give it time. Don’t overwhelm her with links or shower her with adoring affection. I understand. But I’ve been discussing it for over fifteen years, and she has stayed firmly unimpressed. She adamantly refused to even glance at the devices or read any of the links I sent, simply repeating her worries about health and safety while calling it strange. However, I did notice that lately she had started asking more often if I was wearing it, sometimes touching me to check if it was there, doing so with a smile. She was tolerating my kink, which was progress from where we were a year or two ago. In fact, not only that; she didn’t mind the Timer Safe remaining prominently visible in our bedroom while I kept the keys locked up inside. But progress hadn’t gone much further than that, so I took action. Last Wednesday, I told her I was setting the timer safe to its maximum (ten days) and putting both keys inside, unless she wanted one for emergencies. [Eyeroll] “Dammit,” she said. “Why are you doing this? Give it to me then. But this is weird. Why do you have to do this?” I handed her the key a few minutes later. “Now, remember, this is just for emergencies,” I reminded her. “No,” she said firmly. “It’s for when I want you.” This could be the start of something new, or it might not. More as this tale unfolds.

Looks like you may be at a turning point in your journey. You know what I mean.:D

So, on Sunday she forgets the key (bedlam ensues in the house), and we're already quite far from home when we realize that the outdoor activity adventure I volunteered for with the kids and their friends involves a very tight harness around my nether regions. The staff tighten it and attach it during the activity (it's a high ropes course). I've paid in advance, so there is no backing out. "Oh, God," she whispers. "What if they see? What if you fall? What'll they say at the ER?" Such faith in me indeed. To make matters worse, by the time the harness has been tightened, my caged privates are sticking out like a fat codpiece. The staff give me strange looks, but hell, I'm sure they've seen worse. Thankfully, there's another dad there too, and he is similarly strapped in. I steal a glance. Wow, is he well endowed. Or perhaps the harness accentuates him so much that he now looks capable of pleasuring an elephant. If he looks like that, I can hardly look much worse. My cage is mostly unobtrusive, and even with the harness strapped tightly into place on both sides of my crotch, the bars of the cage don't seem very visible. Or at least they shouldn't be. Interestingly, my wife is eyeing the package with what might be a smile. The course takes 90 minutes. After ten minutes I've forgotten about the rope-harness and am working hard not to lose my balance on all sorts of slippery, wobbly, army boot-camp-type forest-canopy surfaces. I'm pleasantly surprised to discover that the cage is so comfortable that I've mostly forgotten it was there. Things end with a long flight on a zip line. My wife meets me with a kiss at the finish. "You did well." No mention of the cage. Hmm.

> Why are you doing this? She's asking it in an exasperated way that suggests "you shouldn't be doing this." And - you could treat this as an opening. "Got an hour? I'd love to tell you why." Tell her how you feel when you wear the device. How you feel about her, and about yourself. What this does for you, in a positive way. Her job is to hear that out without judging you. It may be good to agree on that little ground rule beforehand:). And then it's her turn. How does she feel? About herself, about you, and your relationship? And your job is to listen to what she has to say without judgment. No "yeah buts." Just hear her out. I'll make up a short dialogue as an example. "Like, it feels weird" "Okay, it feels weird. How so?" "I don't know. Who does that?!?" "So ... am I hearing you right that you're saying you're uncomfortable because this would make us unusual?" You see the direction here? And when she says "I want to have access to your dick," then, okay, that's legitimate. It may actually feed into your kink. She gets access whenever she wants. As long as *you* can't just take it whenever you want. That sounds about right?

That same night, after the kids go to bed, she tells me she's unlocking me that very evening and hands me the key. "I want you tonight, and I want you unlocked." I unlock, making sure to leave the padlock open, and give her back the key, which she pockets without a word but with a smile. We are talking in bed, and she starts asking questions about the device and why I want to wear it. "I'm beginning to think that you actually WANT to be denied." "Yes. I think I do." I am surprised this hasn't occurred to her before, and chastened to realize that I haven't been communicating as well as I should. "Hm. Do you want to be denied tonight?" "I'd like to leave that choice to you. I want to be denied because I do enjoy the pleasure of it. But I also want to come because it makes you happy. And yes, I do like an orgasm too!" "Hmm. Well I want to stroke you for a bit first. Then we'll see." So she strokes me gently for a few minutes until my cock looks and feels like one of those unfeasibly large ones in the pornographic manga comics. It is so stiff and hopeful that it looks like a third member of the conversation. My queen continues asking more questions, particularly about why I don't just masturbate instead. I answer her as openly as possible. I could, and most men do. I guess I feel like I'm cheating when I masturbate alone. Then I ask if I can stroke her (oral is out for now, as she's still at the end of her period). "Yes," she says. And she is WET while she continues talking about denying me. There is something definitely going on here. Then, well, she climbs on top, and things go INSANE. We have the wildest sex we've had in months or years, and both eventually fall asleep in each other's arms. What a night! By the middle of the night I have a raging erection again, but I just lie there luxuriating in it. In the morning it is back to work for us all. I'm working from home for the summer, but my queen has to get to work early and the kids need to be delivered to different schools. When the house is quiet again, I consider developments before taking the old bones out for a long run (6.5 miles!). I am still unlocked; might as well use the freedom to get a good run in. And then back to work, but I can't stop thinking about my beautiful queen, and so I retire to the bedroom. I spend twenty minutes jilling on the bed like a love-hungry teenage girl before deciding that enough is enough. I have to get some work done. So it's back into the cage. It feels amazing to shut the padlock knowing that the only keys are in a timer safe and tucked in my wife's back pocket. All day long I have been having the most amazing micro-orgasms in my device, and I can't get my amazing wife out of my mind. Arrived back home tonight, and she smiled knowingly at me several times before leaving for her softball game, giving me a list of chores to do while she is gone. I did them all with a smile.

Milady returns from her ball game and we drink a beer together before going to bed. It is at this point she startles me. "Where did you put the key for your contraption? The one I gave you to unlock yourself last night." "I gave it back to you." "No you didn't." "Really, I did. I came straight downstairs after unlocking and placed it into the palm of your hand. Don't you remember?" "Not at all." "Look through your pockets." She looks through her pockets but can't find it. "Well," she says. "We're not going to be having sex until your timer thing is done, then." (the other key remains in a timer safe set for ten days) She sounds disappointed and slightly angry, but I am interested to note that this does not seem like a dreadful emergency for her. I take her shorts and go through the pockets myself, and there lies the key behind a seam. She takes it immediately but asks: "Don't you want to take the contraption off so you can hump me during the night?" I remind her we agreed that the key is only for sex and emergencies, and she smiles. As we snuggle into bed, she starts questioning me again about everything. "You know this is the limit of what I can tolerate. Tell me you don't have any other little secrets." "I swear, this is about it. You know I've been talking about it for years." "Yes you have, haven't you?" And then more questions follow about masturbation. She is very interested in that topic. How often did I masturbate? Was I a typical male? Do all males masturbate as frequently as I do? I must just have a higher sex drive than most. She says she doesn't like the feel of it next to her, so places a pillow between us, but I think this is artificial squeamishness on her part. And off we go to sleep. She falls asleep in three minutes; I lie there with a wonderful caged erection which feels just heavenly when I squeeze it. And I too drift off. I have gone 72 hours in chastity before (while she was visiting family), but I have never had a raging erection like the one I had this morning. My penis wanted to push the whole thing off, balls and all, managing to push the device upwards which I thought was pretty amazing. But it wasn't coming off. I am only beginning to see the significance of this exchange today. SHE WANTED THE KEY BACK. SHE DIDN'T WANT ME TO HAVE IT. Of course, maybe I'm reading too much into things. She is VERY safety minded, and perhaps just wants to be sure exactly where the second key is in case of an emergency. But we live in hope!

A setback. Yesterday she swore she was going to let me out tonight for sex. I told her it was up to her decision. I am now two days and one night in the cage, and she seems pretty cool with the situation. Tonight we go out with friends and have a great evening socializing. When we return home it is after eleven, and we are both quite tired. But she still wants to follow through on her promise, so she tells me to unlock. The key turns out to be in the top drawer of her nightstand (right where I knew she would put it!), and I tell her I'll throw it into the street if I see it again! I honestly don't think she really *wants* to have sex, but rather feels obliged to do so, and this worries me a little. She asks if I truly want to have sex with her since she is still spotting from her period. I tell her that I am ready for her day and night, and that I will have sex whenever she wants; if she's game, then I'm game. So we spend twenty minutes stroking and cuddling. But she feels uncomfortable about the spotting and wants it over with soon, so throws me on top of her, and away we go. I am trying to listen more closely to her body now. Feeling when she is near an orgasm, what she likes or dislikes etc. She seems to be enjoying the experience, but then announces "let's come." That signal is always like a bugle-call for me to abandon restraint and gallop the horse right through the final furlong into the finishing line. Only this time, I am ten yards from the finish when she says something else and stops/pushes back a bit. I pull hard on the reins to see what's wrong. Well, that rascally horse made it to the finishing line whether jockey or not! But what do I get? The perfect ruined orgasm! Floppy, I slide out just past the point of no return. She is furious. She was just about to come herself she says, and now she won't be able to. And it's all that contraption's fault. Yeah, if only those darned kids hadn't distracted us earlier! And then she starts offloading her feelings. Yes - the contraption is at fault. You're too sensitive now, too quick to come. Why do you have to have this kink? We need counselling don't we? Something's wrong with us. You want sex all the time and you want to wear that thing while being denied for months. Well, it's not fair on me! Why should I be the one to decide? Why can't *you* decide? You want a dominatrix; that is what you truly want! Well, I'm not a dominatrix! I want you to masturbate tomorrow and we'll have normal sex the next day. Of course, much of this is anger at herself. She has a low sex drive, and she's frustrated because she isn't horny when I am. Then when I take care of business myself, I'm not ready for her later when *she* wants it. And then when I wear the device I become all lovey-dovey and eager to serve (which I don't think I truly am anymore since I know it makes her unhappy, but she likes hearing that line). She is frustrated. A lot. She blames herself for not satisfying me more and better enough. No matter what I tell her, she beats herself up about it. I think she kind of enjoys the guilt trip. And she *loves* bringing up counselling. Anyway, the bad blood continues into this morning, but neither of us can really articulate what we are trying to say clearly. I am preparing to go for a run when she comes back in from the kitchen, eyes me suspiciously, and goes upstairs where there is some rooting and other movement happening. She returns shortly after. "I've hidden your contraption for two days now." This annoys me slightly. "Well, you'd better unhide it then." "No. We'll talk about this later." And she's gone again. Hm. Am I back at square one?

"Hidden for two days." That is *very* specific and tells me you'll wear it again. I think she's giving herself some time to think about the situation and come to terms with it. Be patient.

I do as she asks, and that day I shake one out that is better than any I've had in months. I come like a waterfall, and the aftershocks rack my body for five minutes afterward. My roar of pleasure resounds through the neighborhood. And still, I'm horny again within two hours. Maybe she's right. I am simply oversexed! She sends me a text during the day saying she'll be working late and then going to yoga, so I won't see her until quite late. But she wants to have a short heart-to-heart conversation before bed. My heart sinks a bit. This feels like it might be a dressing down for being a pervert, with a message that I'd better bust out the rosary beads before I go straight to hell. So I am stuck with the kids for the evening (which is fine enough, and we have a lot of fun), and afterwards I begin a big cookery project in the kitchen. However, as various concoctions are gelling together, I decide to take the plunge and have that heart-to-heart talk. She delivers her speech which I do not interrupt. She's not happy with this arrangement. She feels she isn't getting a proper say, and that everything is happening without her approval or input. She feels I am doing all of this on my own accord, completely without consulting her about something she really hates. She hates the thing itself; she hates the idea of it, and she dislikes thinking about it being worn by me when we are together. Even with the key available she says, she feels like just an afterthought in the process. And she notes that she is WAY BEHIND ME in her thinking on this topic. She repeats this statement several times. These are all fair points. I know I've forced matters by using the timer safe method, and it has been a risk. I have run with the ball without waiting for backup, and perhaps I should have waited. But hell, I've been waiting fifteen years! Also: she is way behind me because she *refuses* to read anything I send her way! Ah well. I do understand her reluctance. Kink can seem weird, and we are all trained to fear and reject it. She has had fingers in her ears chanting "la la la" for some time now. Meanwhile I have been lapping up every dirty meme on the Internet and ransacking the community for tips. So I agree with her points and do my best to validate them. I have also been thinking during the day, though; while out for a run this morning it occurred to me that I should *negotiate*. "I was wondering if we could come to a compromise," I say. She is wary. "What kind of compromise?" "How about no more than twice a month, for periods between one and eight days decided by an eight-sided die?" She is pleased with this proposal and replies: "I was actually thinking about one week on/one week off." I curse myself internally. I have gone too short in my offer! "But now with your suggestion, let's split the difference and go twice a month for six days each time." I don't want to show it entirely, but I am damn near swooning. I was not expecting such a generous compromise! And there we leave it, provided that she can unlock me anytime she wishes for sex or emergencies. She is on board. Finally, she is fully on board!

That's encouraging! My wife has similar inhibitions. I wouldn't expect her to play along much though. I am having a hard time moving my wife beyond just holding on to the key like it is a chore with no teasing of any kind (not even verbal).

Darn it! I wrote the hottest post yet and it disappeared into the ether. Ah well. Short version: Lots of honor chastity; no cage, alas. Lots of house cleaning done, which she notices. More curious questions from her about the cage itself. She's getting great sex out of this arrangement and is noticing the difference. She's also receiving lots of adoration and liking it very much. So: chastity is becoming a regular thing with us. Just not necessarily involving the cage so much.

"She left a pair of absolutely *bodacious* panties on the bed yesterday morning as she left for work. I couldn't get them out of my mind all morning, and texted her that for safety's sake I was locking myself in for several days (she has one key hidden somewhere in the house; the other went into the timer safe). Her response was "better get the hammer - tonight's the night!" (the timer safe is made of plastic). I reminded her of the hidden key, and that the device could stay on if she simply wanted oral. Then, in mock horror, I texted "You still have the key, don't you???" The following response calmly arrived after thirty minutes: "We'll see about the key." Lots to do before bed last night, however, including a litany of chores and household finance activities. I noticed her eye following me approvingly as I sauntered from one chore to the next. Last night we had utterly amazing sex. She was as wet as she's ever been, and I was as hard as a pillar. We tried several positions and toys, and she kept me on the edge for as long as I could bear. Finally, she told me to come hard in her, and I went at it like a starved beast. I have probably never come so hard and so long. Afterwards we spoke a little. She says she's noticing the housework getting done more, and that our romantic and sexual activity has significantly increased. I commented that she's been wetter and more excited lately than I've ever seen her. What was causing this? "I'm not going to answer that," she replied firmly. Then, just before she drifted off to sleep, she said smilingly "This will be our little secret.""

"I couldn't stop thinking about her again yesterday morning, so I put the cage back on and let her know by text (she has one key, and the other is locked away in a timer safe for several more days). I got this solitary emoticon back::) That's not bad, I thought. In a brief conversation later she suggested I'd be getting out that night. After dinner, however, we went out with friends, and we were both fairly tired by the end of the evening. As we walked from the car to the house, she stroked my crotch and said gently "nothing for you tonight!" As we went to bed she stroked me once on the cage and suggested we might have some morning sex. This kept me excited for most of the night, but when we awoke she wanted nothing but cuddles. No talk of sex at all today. She's been having me do chores and housework all morning, and I've been doing it with pleasure. I think she's starting to realize the power of chastity!"

"We made our New Years resolutions on Saturday night. They were mostly vanilla, career, family, & be-a-better-human, but I decided to slip in a risqué one. I made a resolution not to masturbate for the whole year. To my surprise, she was supportive. I think she's growing to like the new attentive me and she knows darn well what's making me this way! We were casually talking yesterday, and she mentioned how I would probably need to blow off steam every so often by masturbating. "But I won't be doing that, since I'm sworn off masturbating for the year." A glint flashed in her eye. "You will when I tell you to." Hmm. This is a new development."

"That’s seriously a hot thought!"

"We're snuggling in bed. Suddenly she stops. "Are you wearing your thing?" "Guess." [angrily] "Are you wearing it?" "Erm . . . yes." "Well, no strokes for you then tonight." :", "

"We wake up together. She's got a question. "Are you keeping yourself clean down there?" "Scrupulously." "Good. I don't like the device, but if it makes you happy . . ." And we start our days again."

> I don't like the device, but if it makes you happy . . . Hang in there, it takes time to go from toleration, to acceptance, to taking advantage of a denied husband!

"She's getting a little bit more comfortable with the cage. When it's been a few days she feels me up to see if it's on, and if so, she concludes I'm horny. This doesn't worry her unduly. She'll let me go a day or two more in the cage before demanding that I unlock for a hand job or PIV. [she has one key hidden somewhere around the house. The other is in a timer safe. So when I lock it on, I'm helpless until she decides to unlock me]. Last week she unlocked me and we got jiggy. But she stayed dry, and I wasn't as hard as I might be (long day, I guess!). She started to rhythmically pump me and became mock-sad. "You're just not hard enough, baby. I think you'll have to wait until tomorrow." At that, my member definitely rose several points on Mohs' Scale (we're nerds), but she almost immediately got wet. "Did you just get wet at the prospect of denying me?" I asked. "None of your business," she replied. Hmm. Food for thought. Is she starting to like the power?"

"The spouse returns from a long weekend away. I've been taking care of the farm while she's gone. Almost immediately she feels up my crotch, and giggles when she encounters the cage. "Ha - you're packaged up again! We'll have to rectify that." We get to bed eventually (after several beers and a long chat), and she asks me if I've unlocked. "You have the key!" I reply. "The other's in the timer safe!" She smiles knowingly and retrieves the key from her pocket. So, I think, she's been expecting this. I unlock. We have an absolutely AMAZING session that lasts well over half an hour and involves every imaginable position. While we're doing it she makes me tell her about the fantasies I had about her while she was away. We're lying on the bed, exhausted, after the session. "You know," she says brightly. "I don't get this chastity thing, and I don't like the device, but I am LOVING the sex!" "Just the sex?" She ponders. "Well, I guess I'm kinda liking this new horny you too!"

"She tells me all day that we're going to have great sex tonight, and I'm getting understandably excited. So bed time rolls around. "I just don't feel like it tonight, baby," she says. "I'm really sorry." I tell her I'm cool with it. "So you do what you have to do so that you'll be ready for me tomorrow or the day after." "Even the cage?" "Just do what you have to do." Now this is an interesting development . . . It's not a request, or even a suggestion, that I wear the cage, but the cage is definitely not off the table.

"When curious, she's taken to groping me to see if I'm wearing the cage. If I'm wearing it, she assumes I'm horny, and either unlocks me right away for sex or a day or two after. I thought nothing of this until last night. We were lying in bed and had gone two weeks without any sexual activity at all. This made me grumpy, and I was not the lovey-dovey hubby she liked. Suddenly it hit me like a baseball bat in a dark alley: our last four sexual encounters have happened soon after, or immediately after, I've worn the cage (to which only she has the key). Whether she knows it or not, or cares to admit it, she's turned on by the cage, or at least wants (or moves) to have sex when she finds I'm wearing it. I. am. being. trained. Perhaps she is too, but the message, whether being sent consciously or unconsciously is as follows: no sex until you're wearing the cage. So this morning I put it on (she has a key, and the other is in a 10-day timer safe). Let's see how long before she moves. If she moves for sex right away, or inside the next day or two, then I can provisionally conclude that the cage is motivating her. If that's the case, I'll put the cage back on immediately after the encounter and see how long before she acts again. In any case, it's a win for her (she gets turned on, and gets sex as she wants it) and a win for me (I surrender control of my orgasms to her), and the cage now becomes central to our sex life. I suspect it won't be long after that before she realizes that she doesn't have to unlock me at all, in which case, that's me in long term chastity with a loving keyholder. Hm. Be careful what you wish for. Isn't that the message we keep seeing on this board?"

"So that same night that I put the cage on we go out on a date, and it's great. We hang out, drink beer, chat with strangers. When we get home she gropes me, as she more often does nowadays, but her reaction to finding the cage is a surprise to me. "Hooray!" she cries. "You're wearing the cage! I've got my horny hubby back!" She's curious to know when I put it on. Was it last night? Yesterday some time? This morning? I'm not saying. She feels it a bit more. "Well, we're definitely not doing anything tonight, but maybe tomorrow. Let's see, shall we?" And we drift off to sleep, me horny and happy.

"I'm in a strange space. She's happy to keep me locked, but she doesn't want to play, meaning that I'm locked, and that's it. I want *something*. Touches, gropes, edges . . . ANYTHING. It's the nothing that kills me. One plodding day after another without anything sexual. But I did ask for this, so I'd better get used to it.

"@CanuckInNJ Have you considered putting your thoughts, hopes, wants, etc into a journal and leaving it for her to read? If you do, let her know it's ok to respond in the journal too. KittensBoyToy and I started out that way, and we still use it on occasion. Just a thought.

"@Kitten Thank you for that response. Men are dreadful communicators, aren't they? How did you do the journal thing? My wonderful partner is very suspicious of the intertubes, declaring that any passion expressed on them will be public knowledge in another ten years. I'm inclined to agree (but here I am!). Was your journal handwritten? If so, how did you store it and keep it safe? Also: since you're here: did you have an initial moment of horror when KBT revealed his chastity secret to you? If so, how did you get over it? Canuck"

"We're changing clothes this morning, and she's hanging about in the bedroom waiting for me to take my pyjamas off. When I do, she whistles and exclaims "Poor caged hubby." This is a step. She has never even wanted to look at the cage before, much less comment on its looks.

> CanuckInNJ wrote: ↑Thu Sep 19, 2019 12:46 pm > ... she whistles and exclaims "Poor caged hubby." > This is a step. She has never even wanted to look at the cage before, much less comment on its looks. Hmmmm;) Great step in the right direction.

"She's started to get adventurous. This last encounter she pulled out both vibrators and announced that we were going to make the session last. First, there was a little PIV. Then she pushed me out and got to work with a vibrator. Then I used my tongue on her. Then more PIV before the big moment. Afterwards we're lying there, utterly spent. "Phew!" she groans, wiping away the tears. "You've managed to make me cry with pleasure." "You're welcome!" I broach the subject of getting a harness and dildo for even more prolongation. She says that she'll consider the matter. This is a *huge* development. We'd tried a penis sleeve in the past, but she just couldn't bear it.

"It's been a busy week after that last encounter, and sex has been the last thing on her mind. It's been the first thing on mine, however and I've been frustrated and grumpy. No sex, no touches, no edges, no teases. Just nada. She's noticed my grumpiness too, even though I'm trying not to show it. But I'm willing to hang on, since we ended the last sexual encounter with plenty of hot talk about the next encounter. If I wait long enough, I'll get some satisfaction. "Oh by the way," she says, as she's going out the door this morning. "I've got my period." Curses. I text her this morning asking permission to masturbate (I've told her that I'm going to ask her from now on). I get a one-word reply. "No." I text again: "are you sure about that?" Her reply is short and unambiguous: "If I'm going to suffer, so are you." I *really* want to play with myself, so I lock up, and send her notification. No reply. I *think* that's good!"

"The strap-on arrived! She's all about vanilla, so I took the initiative one day and bought it. Nothing fancy, just a $20 cheapie on Ebay. The previous one was more of a hollow gelatine dong that fastened behind the testicles. It was too wide for her, and she rejected it. This new one is a real strap-on, and quite narrow, but perfectly angled for her G-Spot. It's also hollow, so I can lube myself up and slide inside it. The testicles hang through a space in the harness. I introduced it during a passionate session several weeks ago, and can't believe how much she liked it. We started with some oral, continued with several vibrators, and carried on to the strap-on. I'd been thrusting for a minute or two when she stopped suddenly. "You'd better not come in that thing!" "I promise I won't." Several more minutes of thrusting. Now she's arching her back, angling herself, groaning, writhing. Suddenly she stops again. "Can you feel anything?" "Not a thing." "Good." We finished up with some magnificent house-shaking PIV. She's mentioned it several times since, particularly how she's never come so hard and so long before, but she insists that the real thing is still better. Now I know, however, that I have competition.

"I've been a little grumpy over the past week, mostly because she's been stressed with kids and work and therefore not interested in anything sexual. Yesterday she kind-of announced that I hadn't got any action over the weekend because of my attitude. This didn't surprise me, but I'm happy to see that she's thinking about denying me when my behavior is less than perfect. Last night we got frisky, and she stroked me to a huge erection before putting me inside her. I thrusted gently for several minutes, but I could see that her mind was elsewhere. Finally she pushed me off. "Let's finish this in the morning, baby," she said gently, and rolled over. I lay there for a minute, digesting what had just happened. Then she murmured "Poor baby. You're going to have trouble sleeping tonight." Within another minute she was breathing regularly. I lay on my back for another thirty minutes, wondering what I should do with the flagpole that had grown between my legs. It remained that way for most of the night. This morning she woke up too late for any action. She groped me again, and said. "Maybe we'll do something tonight, honey. How about 10pm?" Sigh. I know her. That means nothing for me tonight either, and that's OK. This morning I texted her how deliriously happy I was with the session, and asking for more denial. No response, but a call mid-morning. "Are you wearing the device?" "Erm, no." "Interesting." "Why??" "Just wondering.

"We had an amazing session last night that started sluggishly and with a small argument. Men in chastity, however, know when and why to apologize. Things got torrid pretty soon after that, and we pulled out the box-of-tricks. The session eventually involved tongues, strap-ons, vibrators, and PIV. Whoo, doggie! This morning I'm horny again, and I tell her. "That's because you're a big ole horn dog who doesn't masturbate anymore!" I tell her I might have to lock up (only she has the key). She responds with a giggle. "You're such a hound!" I'm going to take that as "go ahead!" So now I'm in a potential ten day lock-up, as I *know* her period is just around the corner. She's been a bit frisky lately, and tonight she's out with the girls. Who knows what she'll say?? [she comes back, and admits there's been some talk of sex, but denies spilling any secrets. Off she goes to prepare for bed, and returns in nothing but her underwear. I practically faint. She merely giggles. "Any interest in some oral?" I ask, desperately. "Nope!" she laughs. "Did you do your chores?" But before I can answer she does. "Of course you did," and with another laugh she heads back up the stairs again.]"

"Much cuddling and spooning this morning after a delicious night of denial. Eventually she pushes away, however. "Are you wearing your contraption?" she asks, and then she answers the question herself. "Of course you are. Well, there's always tonight!" And off she goes to work.

"Two days go by. She starts feeling bad for me, even though I’m doing my best to reassure her that it’s all good. But no, she feels duty-bound to attend to me, so announces that tonight is the night: either PIV or a hand job. Her heart isn’t really in it, and honestly, neither am mine. She’s acting out of obligation, and she clearly isn’t thrilled about it. When she’s unhappy, I’m unhappy too. She keeps insisting on how much she despises that device, though I wonder if she truly believes it or just convinces herself because it feels 'right' to her at the moment. I bring up trying some hypnotism files next, and she seems fine with the idea, even if she’s skeptical. That works for me; having tranced before with Lee Allure and Shibby taught me that hypnosis does work. The following day, I stumble upon Elena McIvor, aka eSuccubus. It’s a nice find—more on her later! Another day passes, and thanks to eSuccubus and some powerful femdom tracks, my horniness returns by evening. We spend the night hanging out with other women, watching them with wide-eyed admiration. At one point, my wife tells the group, 'Canuck is an honorary woman tonight.' 'Delighted,' I reply, surprising even myself. This morning starts with her spooning me. Then I return the favor. She gropes me next, and things go absolutely CRAZY from there. She sits on my face; I perform oral on her; she rides me cowgirl-style; then we finish in missionary position, both climaxing hard like trains colliding. Before we’ve even fully recovered, our offspring appears at the door (which is locked, thank goodness), growling for breakfast and attention. Reality sets back in. Alas.

"I texted her asking permission to masturbate. The answer came quickly and clearly: 'No.' She’d never admit it outright, but she enjoys having the power. And I like that power of hers. So now, my chastity lasts until she decides otherwise.

"I’m glad I pushed for this last year. If I hadn’t, the device would never have become a normal part of our life. Now she sees it often and knows that control is hers to use. Her main complaint is feeling like she isn’t giving me enough sex, even though I keep telling her that I actually *want* to be denied. Her lower libido makes her feel less valuable somehow. Somewhere along the line, she believes we’d have a 'normal' sex life if only she had higher drive. She just doesn't grasp that I don't care much about orgasms—it’s the occasional strokes and attention I crave, plus the chance to please her. Her concerns are fair enough though. She’s very vanilla and slow to try new things. She’d been avoiding sex for a while due to health issues, then finally declared last night would be 'the night.' Then she got tired and asked me to wait. I was happy to comply. As we lay in bed with her exquisitely touching my stiff member, we had a lovely chat about wants and needs. 'I don’t know what I’m thinking,' she said sadly. 'I feel all over the place. I don't really know what I want.' 'Fine by me,' I replied. 'I know exactly what I want. Why not let that guide us?' We’ve never been closer sexually than we are now. For the first time, I haven’t hesitated to be open about my desires for chastity. And she listens more closely lately. 'But you’re not getting enough orgasms! And I don't want total charge over you!' 'That’s right—you only control my orgasms. Nothing else. Once a month is plenty fine with me, as long as I can enjoy this now and then,' I say, sighing happily as her hand glides up and down my cock. 'This *is* sex! This is the main event! I just don’t need to finish every time.' She thinks about it for a moment, then allows me to worship her. More stroking follows. Then she promises more activity in the morning before falling asleep.

"The sex yesterday morning didn’t quite satisfy her. She did it out of duty, and that was the end of it. For that very reason, I wasn't fully satisfied either—not because my climax wasn't strong (it was), but because a nagging feeling persisted that this wasn't really what she truly wanted. After she left for work, I still felt that persistent horniness, so I locked myself in and sent her a text to let her know. The day passed busily enough. We met some friends later, then went to bed. This morning she woke up curled up next to me. 'Are you wearing your chastity belt?' Her tone was severe, but did I detect a *tinge* of pleasure? 'Erm... yes.' 'Well, take it off. I don't like that hard lump pressing against me.' 'But only you have the key.' She found the key and unlocked me while I washed up. Soon enough, I was back in cuddling position again. She sighed contentedly. 'If something is going to be hard against me,' she said, 'it might as well be your penis.' We cuddled for a bit longer, then I asked permission to worship her. "By 'worship,' do you mean go down on me?" 'Absolutely!' 'Well, okay then.' But being the hygiene queen she is, she insisted on washing first. Which meant my initial licks were quite soapy. I keep telling her I prefer her natural scent and taste, but she won’t let it slide. Thanks to American detergent industry. Did discovering the cage turn her on? She was already pretty wet by the time I got down to her, giving me about five good minutes of pleasure, though she admitted that mostly all she felt was my attention focused on her clitoris. Excited, she pulled me up and started stroking. Then she used me like a dildo—*exquisite*—bringing herself to a minor climax. Next, she mounted me and rode cowgirl-style for another small orgasm. Finally, she rolled over so I could enter her in missionary style. We were gently thrusting when the sound of children from downstairs interrupted us. At that exact moment, she pulled out. 'That’s enough for this morning, darling,' she said cheerfully. 'Maybe we’ll finish tomorrow.' My slick, rigid member stood there, peeking around in disbelief like a bear realizing its forest had suddenly vanished. And with that, she was out of bed and heading downstairs for breakfast. Wow. Just wow.

"The next morning we wake up and cuddle a bit before she strokes my cock. She’s getting better at this. She alternates between slow and fast strokes, then stops to grasp my shaft with her thumb making small circles on the tip. I am completely under her spell. 'Do you want a hand job this morning?' she asks idly. I can tell she is interested in my answer. And I am interested in why she’s asking; either outcome seems possible for me right now. 'I’d prefer it if you brought me to the edge and made me wait.' 'Hmm... I suppose I couldn’t be that cruel.' 'Oh, please be cruel!' She brings me exactly to the edge and then, surprisingly enough, stops. 'Well, maybe we’ll do this again tonight.' And she gets up to start her day. I lie there in a daze for twenty minutes.

"A week passes with lots of work and family stuff happening. There’s no talk of sex. I lock myself up again, but she barely notices. Eventually I leave my key on her pillow (since that was where she’d left it for me to find), and she puts it away properly. Not a bad sign at all. The worse—or better—news is that this marks the last night I’ll be sharing our bed with her for four nights, as she’s visiting relatives with the kids. I’m staying home to catch up on work. Looks like she plans to leave me locked during her absence. This pleases me greatly. I have two major social events while she's gone, and I think she wants assurance that I’ll be thinking of her. She actually *wants* to deny me right now! I haven’t come since well before those two MASSIVELY FRUSTRATING edges last week. And she doesn't seem to care at all! It’s a torment. But it's exactly what I asked for.

"A week spent in the cage. Two weeks without an orgasm. For three days of that final week, she was away on a family trip. She’s curious about the cage but not overly worried about my predicament. She giggles with playful horror when I tell her I’ve been swimming, biking, dancing, and running while wearing it. Swimming? Biking? Isn't it painful or uncomfortable? No to both. It might even be too comfortable! I can see her thinking. And she *has* been thinking. No more than an hour after returning from the trip, she sits me down for a talk. She’s up for a promotion at work, which means I need to pull my weight more around the house now. If she expected resistance, there was none. 'What can I do?' I ask. She lists some tasks, and we discuss the new arrangements. I’m not rolling over completely; I definitely won’t become her sissy maid with a Swiffer—but yes, I will have new domestic duties for sure. I am not actually a lazy slob sitting on the couch clutching a forty-ounce beer can. I *do* pull my weight around the house already, but from now on, it’ll be more of that load. Many of her previous tasks were self-imposed burdens, so she will likely take some back over. Last night, the cage came off. She stroked the little fella with mock mourning. 'Poor caged thing. Poor neglected fellow.' There was a definite 'I like this' vibe in her tone. Then we had *AMAZING* PIV sex. She lay there afterward with a happy, hazy smile on her face. 'What are you thinking?' I asked. 'I’m so glad it’s YOU that I come to,' she replied. She snuggled closer into me. "I'll let you go down on me tomorrow." And off to sleep she went. I stayed awake for a few minutes, musing about my new life. Has her newfound professional and domestic assertiveness been inspired by the chastity? Are we drifting toward an FLR?