Chaste Honeymoon: Almost Unlocked
A Keyholder Gives Her Husband A Challenge
A Keyholder Allows Sexual Arousal for Her Husband, but...
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Chapter 1 -- The Importance of Feeling... EARNED.
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I once read in a book, "Even when a man has somehow 'earned' time out of his chastity cage, his wife likes to make it challenging for him to get any relief."
There was an image of a man with a rigorous erection, but his wrists and ankles were cuffed behind his back. The erection was visible, but he couldn't do anything with it.
In our daily routine, my wife would often handcuff me during bath time.
I naturally had very few pubes of hair, and they grew slowly, so they were never an issue. This could be an issue for men with more hair.
My wife would usually wear gray sweatpants or pajamas, just to convey to me at an unconscious level that we were not engaging in any sexual activity.
Then, she would only cleanse my penis with cold water, and even if I happened to have any initial erection, the cold water would quickly neutralize it.
Britney would soap me meticulously and leave my softened cock lying in a pile of suds, like it was in a Doris Day movie. Once her serious face had transformed into a grin of joy, she would say, "What a cute you are, Dean my love!"
She said it, just as my penile had completely vanished from sight.
I'm sure a psychologist would have an explanation for this sudden joy in my wife, but I'm not intelligent enough to comprehend it.
That afternoon, following washing and drying, Britney grabbed a dog collar and fastened it around my neck, securing it to a long chain. Then she giggled and said, "I have a surprise for you, Dean my darling!"
For the first time in weeks, my penis was free from its confinement. And as soon as the flow of blood could reverse the sensation of the cold water, my penis became stiff.
I had to remind her!
"Britney... my love, did you forget my cage..."
"Oh, no! I didn't forget anything, Dean my darling! This is just your surprise! It's such a sunny day, and I've decided to permit you to go. But there are some conditions.
First, rule: I will be sunbathing in the garden, completely naked in front of you, with my legs apart and, yes, even my genitals wide open. I want your sperm to reach me and stain my belly button. Are you up to the task?"
My penis was so firm because Britney was describing to me the thought of my ejaculate soaking her wonderful belly button!
"Britney... can I ask if I may?"
"Oh, go for it! At this point, I've already told you about the consequences, remember? First, you'll be chained using the collar. The chain is connected to a table inside. And if you're concerned, yes, my genitals will be close enough for your ejaculate to land on me, but not close enough for you to penetrate me. So close, yet so far. Are you up for it, too?"
I was turning crimson.
My cock had become hard because Britney was disclosing to me about how my sperm would land on her delectable belly button!
"Third rule. You can masturbate with your hands-free, but be sure to remain my stylish butler, ready to cater to the needs of my female guests. And the garden is along the main path. And it could've happened that, unintentionally, I've asked some ladies to drop by for a visit... in which case, you should discontinue your masturbation in public, and obey each woman's command.
Do you agree?
Certainly, my queen, I am up to it!
You enjoy serving my guests, delivering them drinks and other kitchen items, and caressing their bosoms and ankles with your tongue, don't you?
And you like watching the way they walk, and the stiffening of their nipples, and the protruding clitorises... right?
Don't say anything... your friend here admits his desires.
Fourth rule.
Oh, you're so amusing when you blush!
But I'd rather keep that shyness just between us, my dear.
Are you in agreement? I'll assume your silence is a 'yes, the groom is agreeing.'
So I'd prefer for you to wear this leather mask -- with the zipped-up eyes and mouth shut tight. Hey, it'll be more difficult to aim -- if you cum without hitting my belly button with your ejaculate, there'll be punishment. Understood?"
I nodded.
"Dean my love, the erection you're sporting shows that you adore me with every fiber of your being."
She beamed, full of merriment, "I see your little iron rod of steel didn't suffer from its dull armor, Dean my darling... I was worried because it's been circulated that the penis can shrink!"
In the kitchen, I fought the urge to masturbate immediately. If I did, my semen would miss the intended bullseye - her stunning belly button.
I clenched my teeth, aiming to focus on anything but that irresistible target.
My mind wandered, conjuring images of a poetic sonnet about her navel, which had caught my oral attention. If only I could think of a rhyme for "Canada," Dean...
"Want to write me a sonnet?" she asked coyly.
"Nah, not now honey. I want to concentrate on you," I replied, her only priority.
Thinking of the potential elasticity of genitals, I considered the idea that just like the twisting folds of a post-childbirth vagina, the penis would naturally return to its original shape. But then a thought crossed my mind.
"Shall I challenge mainstream media?" I quipped. "As far as I know, gentlemen are seasoned playthings, and much like women, we too adapt to various expressions of pleasure."
Britney's fingers squeezed my erect cock.
What could be the purpose of having a penis? Some would argue it's a tool of nature, a hint for women on what to grip while leading men. A natural leash, if you will, a birthright kind of ornament. My wife knew its tactile power, and her touch made it even more potent, especially in her garden, where privacy was nonexistent.
Chapter 2: "All in the golden afternoon: yet, what can one poor man avail against three tongues together?" (Lewis Carroll, "Alice in Wonderland," 1865)
The setting sun loomed low on the opposite horizon.
Sunset was a treacherous time to be in the garden.
The low hedge offered minimal camouflage against prurient eyes.
And Britney had no qualms about informing curious passersby they could pop in uninvited.
Naked, my wife stretched out on the chaise longue and teased me with her words. "I'm going to use my magic wand to pleasure myself soon...expect to hear everything as I touch your knees with my feet."
I had never had to wear a blindfold.
This rarity was her way of ensuring she would hit the mark, though luckily for me, it was a fetish of mine. I usually had to act as a servant: fetching things, performing tasks, or doing other grunt work. With the blindfold, I had to keep my eyes closed. However, that day was different.
I was bathed in darkness. But the sunset heat seared my skin with awareness of observers.
A female voice carried a squeal of delight. It was none other than Charlotte.
She was approaching. I could picture her, a knowing smirk etched on her face.
She could have just asked for a glass of water as we were close by.
Yet, interrupting someone already halfway through an act of pleasure was one of Charlotte's favorite tormenting tricks.
I recognized her voice; she was about to interject into my actions.
I exhaled as I continued to move my hand erratically, straining to keep my arousal on course.
Her hand rested on my shoulder, and she spoke with the insistent tone of a favored guest inviting herself for tea. "I'm terribly apologetic to derail you, husband of my dear host, but I'm parched to death, and here's my wife, all smug on the chaiselongue, bare naked, legs spread wide, radiant smile.
Could you oblige me by retrieving a glass of water while I'm here?"
I clenched my teeth, hesitating. At this stage, I was almost there. Charlotte's demand would disrupt my aim and take me out of contact with Britney's toes, which were the map to my ultimate destination.
She knew the perfectly timed request would cruelly interrupt my progress.
Caught between humiliating orders and undeniable temptation, I naturally wanted to comply.
I breathed heavily as I obeyed the command to fetch the water.
My wife's fingers massaging my genitals were essential to my positioning, and I would now be required to break away and violate my instincts to serve.
But then, it dawned on me. If I approached her boldly, the obstructionist attempts would be overcome.
I continued my hurried work, while Charlotte chattered in the background. Passersby could no doubt see my humiliated state.
However, I hoped the wrench in my usual routine would, at least, enhance the satisfaction.
The unbiased feminine competition added spice to the taboo pleasure.
Britney, with love and compassion, wanted to help me. She said, "Dean, darling, the chain is like a double-sided weapon. It symbolizes both control and security. If you tighten the chain with your hands, it'll create a line for you to follow towards the table... where you'll see various glasses filled with water."
Of course, it was all part of the strategy, and the chain would direct me straight to the table with the filled glasses. That way, I wouldn't have spilled water as a blind person.
I was amazed by Britney's creative schemes.
Slowly walking toward the table, holding the chain taut with both hands. My penis was equally taut.
I picked up a plastic cup. Holding the glass between two fingers, I attempted to return to where I was before, but I heard Britney's voice a few metres left, bidding farewell to Charlotte.
Clearly, this was a sign for me to locate her in the dark.
Charlotte took the cup from my hand, thanked me, took a sip, and left. I heard her saying goodbye in the distance.
Unable to see anything around me, my wife and I were alone now.
Charlotte's departure brought me some relief because she was my wife's most hostile friend among the group of friends.
I was desperate to masturbate and flood Britney's tummy with a wave of cum, but I wasn't certain about her whereabouts. There was a possibility that I might be a few degrees off target, and I didn't want to miss my chance.
Then I heard a soft, youthful voice, indicating Greta's arrival. Greta was a girl at the resort we'd met. She had a boyfriend who didn't like naturism, and so she probably wondered about our lifestyle.
Greta had only seen me shackled by the lock, making her think I had a tiny penis.
In fact, when soft, my penis seems quite small. However, when erect, it's standard in size [SPOILER: two years later, I would become the father of two beautiful babies, just by sticking my penis into Britney's vagina for weeks: but that's another story].
Greta apparently wasn't intimated by the sight, as evidenced by the tone of her voice. Her voice revealed she was talking to my spouse.
"Welcome to our home, Greta. Kindly ask my husband to fetch you a glass of water."
"Oh, but I'm embarrassed! I was just passing by when I became very thirsty, but I'm sorry to disturb him."
"Don't be shy, honey! My husband loves to lend a helping hand. It makes him feel valued, contributing to our communal town. You couldn't tell from under the mask, but he's smiling."
Then, raising her voice a little, Britney requested, "Are you smiling under the mask, dear? Wave hello to our lovely guest, Greta, who's thirsty."
I waved my fingers as gracefully as possible.
I tried to maintain my dignity as a somewhat naked man with a hard cock, a collar, and a chain.
Our actions might've encouraged Greta, who without hesitation ordered me, "Dean! Bring me a glass of water now!"
I turned back to the table and walked toward it, utilizing the chain as a guide for my path. In the background, I heard my spouse's voice.
"See? Greta's comfortable. You see how he reacted when you told him to bring you a glass of water? Men enjoy it. They may not like it in their daily routines or at the office, but they do like it during sexual encounters... or at least, my husband does."
"Oh, I see."
I returned with the plastic cup in my hand, walking slowly.
I was unsure of my wife's exact location, but Greta approached me, patted my elbow, and said, "I'm here, Dean, take a sip of water."
Britney had her toes touch my knees, indicating the target zone.
The ballistics, the range - I could smell my wife's pussy.
Greta had the voice of a timid girl (even though she was an adult), and she said to my wife, "Britney, you know your husband has a nice cock. I've seen many of them in naturist camps, but his is quite good. What are your thoughts, Britney? Can I lean in and kiss him on the lips like a sister would greet her brother?" Greta spoke with no ill will. But only my ears understood, my penis, pulsating with desire.
"Alright then, you can give a brotherly kiss," my spouse mentioned with a mischievous tone.
Within my blindness, I anticipated the lips that arrived to kiss the eggplant.
"I'm unable to climax now! It wouldn't be appropriate, indeed, it would be offensive to penetrate this inexperienced girl, and I may miss my goal, which is the belly button!"
Had she been a knowledgeable and vicious keyholder like Charlotte, I assume she would've lingered for a while, enabling the skin of my shaft to experience her hot breath before she pressed her smooth skin across my firm flesh.
But Greta was a tender, shy female; she leaned in for a speedy kiss like a younger sibling, without her tongue. Instantly after, she stood up, not out of fear but out of respect.
Greta comprehended that I was tense and decided to withdraw, "Thank you, Dean! Thank you, Brit! I'm heading out to view the sunset, and for the record, I'm turning my back now even though I'm exposed, you'd only observe my back and buttocks, and now I'm walking away, I'll be leaving you two alone, farewell!"
I could perceive Greta's footsteps on the moist sand path. Her voice was fading away, without a doubt. The image was clear in my mind, even though my eyes were blind. Greta's compact buttocks, and the gap between her slender legs... OMG how much I wanted to jizz at that moment...
Had the lady positioned me correctly? Could I hit the target even though I was blind, or would a few degrees to the left prevent me from drenching her stomach?
I was slightly off, and my spouse desired to assist me once again. The toes of my right leg were touching my knee, while my left foot was out of reach. I turned slowly, like a blind person, and eventually, both her legs rested securely on my knees.
I could hear Britney moaning beneath me - she was probably rubbing her own genitalia, spreading her thighs like a frog, her vagina already waiting to be filled by my flood...
I contemplated, "If no one interrupts me now, I'm going to envelop my wife with semen..." and clasped my cock with my hand to jerk off.
Nevertheless, the toes disengaged from contact and, on my leg, I experienced a peculiar substance rubbing.
By the time I could ejaculate, I was interfered with by a purring voice.
"Mew, mew, this cat requires a beverage too, what'll you buy me to drink, Butler Dean?"
It was the voice of Fiona the Vixen!
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Chapter 3 Tale of a Tail: a tongue, a voice, a blowjob.
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With my eyes immersed in the dark, I was reminded of the visual I had been shown the initial evening, during the Welcome Cocktail. Frank and Fiona: a seldom couple who rotated the role of Dominant and Submissive based on the day. When Fiona was the submissive, her husband forced her to venture around on fours, with a fox tail inserted into her bottom orifice with an anal plug. He led her on a leash and she obeyed like a little puppy.
I could not ascertain if the husband was present.
Was the husband present, and was I standing in front of the lips of his submissive wife?
Or was the husband not there, and Fiona was dominant today, who known? Perhaps at that instant, the husband was in the bedroom, bound to a St. Andrew's cross, while Fiona roamed the resort in search of hard penises?
I couldn't basically determine who she was addressing. If he was present, I couldn't understand: possibly he was gagged? I don't know.
The agreements with my spouse mention no gay actions. If a caged husband looks at me while I'm walking, there's nothing I can do about it.
But if a caged husband looks at me while Fiona is on fours with my hard member in front of her?
I didn't know what to do.
I heard my spouse's voice say, "Carry on, Fiona, Dean has always found red-haired chicks appealing...if you had been being reserved for my authorization, here's my permission, you can lick his penis and suck it, and you also can swallow all of the jizz he's about to gift you...it's been weeks straight since I've granted him to climax, so, prepare for a deluge, ha, ha!"
Indeed, Fiona was enjoying teasing me by moving her hips rearward.
"You're free to do whatever you want. Yet, Dean is not entirely unbound. The guidelines were obvious: today he had to mark my litttle belly button with cum. If your mouth swallows his sperm, you win your prize, but he gets severe penalties."
The fox's tail continued rubbing against my overgrown testicles.
As anticipated, Fiona was intrigued in taunting me by moving her rear end back and forth.
"Attempt to be Britney, I've always pondered why you two are so opposed to cuckolding. But perhaps if I demonstrate how fulfilled Dean is to climax within another woman's maw...who realizes, maybe I can change your minds!"
"You're able to carry out whatever you fancy, Fiona, dear. But Dean is not the ultimate authority. The rules were precise: today he has to saturate my belly button with ejaculate. If your mouth ingests his product, you'll receive your reward, but he experiences infliction." [paraphrased by ChatGPT]
"Woah there, are you being serious about this? You mean like really trying your best? Got any secret tricks for the ultimate blowjob? Lead the way up top!"
"Uh, what now?"
"Hey, there's still so much you need to learn to be the perfect little wife, and it all starts with a Christmas carol, even if it seems a bit unexpected on this sunny Mediterranean beach. Listen closely: Up on the roof, reindeer stop (and I saw her point her finger towards the roof of her mouth) out pops good old Santa Claus!
Track back with your lips lots of... spunk boys (and here she was being really forceful with her tongue, ensuring all the spunk would be swallowed) all for the little ones, the good old spunk boys! Oh, who wouldn't want to ejaculate? (I kind of thought she meant "go" but Fiona insisted it was "cum")
Now, oh-oh-oh: who wouldn't want to ejaculate? Up on the roof, click!
Click!
CLICK! (The sound was just like when you lock a padlock around a chastity cage. I imagined she was mimicking that action by clenching her fingers.)
Down through the chimney with the good St. Nick!"
Holy shit, my cock was as hard as a reindeer's antlers!
Fiona commanded me in a strict tone, "Hands behind your back, Dean. That's an order. Now Aunt Fiona, Santa Claus's personal assistant, will evaluate if you're naughty or nice... and I'm probably gonna have to check twice!"
Soft, wet lips covered my tip, sliding my cock in until it hit the roof of her mouth.
I'd never had my wife do this to me before. The palate! The Palace of Pleasure.
In front of me was a woman forcing my cock down her throat in complete silence. I wasn't sure if Fiona's husband was watching us. The only thing I knew for sure was that I had to hold back, save my sperm for my wife's belly.
However, the Palate trick was quite effective. My lips were wet, my tongue was flicking out, and my palate kept bumping against my tip - it felt like it had been ages since I'd last received a blowjob, and no girlfriend, partner, or wife had ever made me hit my palate.
My heart was conflicted. How could my wife allow my first orgasm as a married man to end in another woman's throat? Was that the reason I'd remained celibate until now?
I was excited, but also uncertain, and also proudly against it.
More accurately: my heart was against it, while my cock was desperate to ejaculate as soon as possible!
And that woman who was giving me a mind-blowing blowjob...she had a very talented tongue and kept darting my balls.
How could I do this?
I knew I wouldn't last much longer.
All of a sudden, I felt something brush against the base of my back - a fox tail.
How is that possible? Fiona was on her knees in front of me!
Had someone taken the furry tail with the anal plug?
I was confused and shocked.
Two nipples were sticking out like two pencils, scratching my right arm.
A pair of lips whispered in my ear, "Check out how good she is at sucking cock, Dean."
It was Fiona's voice.
It was Fiona, standing by my side, her nipples pointing at my arm.
So that's how it is.
"Yes," said Fiona's voice, "the woman who's sucking your cock against her palate is your wife Britney. Wouldn't you like to ejaculate in her mouth? She confessed she really wants to swallow it all! I don't really understand this reluctance of yours to cheat - but since you seem so cynical, I don't feel like giving you a sermon. But come on, ejaculate, what are you waiting for? She is your wife, cum in her belly!"
I caught my breath.
I signed.
Then I took a few steps backwards.
The chain stopped me from moving forward but not backward.
My dick slipped out from Britney's moist mouth.
I'd never known her to do that trick with her palate. Maybe her friends suggested it, or maybe the keyholders at the resort taught her.
"No, I said I'd use my stomach, but my rule has changed," said Britney, now free from the mask. "I'm the keyholder and I can decide to change the rule for you anytime."
Chapter 4. No more masks.
"Congratulations on enduring all sorts of torments and proving yourself to be the most trustworthy partner imaginable! Today could be the only day when you experience true freedom, darling. If you wish, I'll let you climax how you desire: within my vagina, in my mouth, or wherever you'd prefer: even bound up, even on your knees, you're free to do as you please with me. Or, alternatively, you can convey that you've been content all day and implore me not to cause you to climax, so we can keep tormenting you with my companions over the next few days."
I kissed you back and humbly requested, "Please lock me up again, My Regal One...
If I'm free, I'll exercise my free will: my initial orgasm as a husband would be inside your vagina.
Not today! Today I'm too tense and can only petition you to minimize this erection with ice or freezing water, reincarcerate me within the chastity device, and then permit me to relax for a bit. But eventually... when you associate it with you... I'd like my inaugural ejaculation to be inside you... for you and me."
The sight of Britney left me speechless, with a lump in my throat. She nodded, however.
She restrained my hands behind my back with handcuffs, then brought me over to the shower using a leash to lead me. She then spent a tranquil moment washing me, only alleviating my erection once it completely vanished, leaving just a dilapidated, lifeless phallus.
With an older stocking, she carefully inserted my delicate soupless organ into the device - my testicles had already passed the larger ring - after absorbing them into the chastity cage.
"Now take a quick rest, Dean dear. When you're composed, you'll service me by licking my vagina. I'm aroused, yet I'm patient. Two rules will remain a constant: Ladies First and Never Return the Favor.
We might even ponder etching these principles next to my navel, so you'll see them every time you open your eyes whilst conducting your duties for hours."
A night filled with orgasms for her, a night filled with frustration and denial for me. Nevertheless, I was content, and couldn't wait to lick her again.
Following an adequate amount of time, she became overburdened with climaxes, commanding me to kiss her, caress her, and add frustration by not returning the favor. After several minutes, she drifted off to sleep. I waited until her snoring grew soft, before cautiously and clandestinely detaching myself from her warm, tender body, subsequently lying down upon the challenging, hurried floor, hardly noticing the restraint in my wrists nor the penile bars situated in front.
My wife's taste lingered on my palate; the memories of her pussy and butthole were ever-persistent. As soon as I had closed my eyes, I envisioned my new bride's flawless, naked physique.
The persistent memory of the lengthy blowjob felt like an unending dream.
I ultimately fell asleep truly tranquil.
I was contented.
The following morning, my wife awoke me completely late.
Throughout breakfast, Britney offered me tablets to enhance my erection.
Following this, she presented me with the key and expressed her request for me to unlock the device.
At first, I believed she aimed for me to climax. However, she didn't at all.
She removed the handcuffs, yet made no demand for me to release the manacles. Instead, she instructed me to fasten the ball gag with the leather strap to my face.
My wife muttered something about an opportunity to employ the safety word, but I wasn't even listening.
Now devoid of any traditional regalia other than two strips of black leather on either side of my mouth and a coterie of leather cuffs.
She jumped up onto the chair, perforated my left wrist locked in the soft skin restraint, and securely attached it to the wrought-iron ring on the veranda roof.
I tensed, standing on my toes, but she displayed benignity.
Britney ascended the chair, nabbed the wrist I willingly surrendered, and bound it to my wall ring, as well.
"That's it. You're now ready, and there's just one element left."
Britney grabbed a piece of paper and a marker, writing spontaneously, "Groom teases me, don't let him cum!"
Just underneath those words, she added, "Here's the deal: this is my husband, Dean. I desire every woman walking on the trail to be a tease to him, keeping him erect. You have my blessing to use whatever technique, trick, or phrase you think would work, as long as his erection is maintained and he never reaches orgasm. - Britney the Bride, newlywed for a few days."
Giggling, she jested, "What's your take on this, Dean dear? You can't even speak up now!"
She chuckled at her own joke, then fastened the note around Dean's neck. "I'll spare you a few minor details..."
What was it she had written? He couldn't fathom it. And he wouldn't dare ask.
His wife exited, clad only in high heels and sunglasses, due to the absence of her presence having dictated the CFNM (Clothed Female, Naked Male) scenario.
As various women traversed the path, some single, others with their confined partners in tow, a number of them stopped to take note of the sign (and the covert message) and approached Dean.
Each interacted differently, yet every single one of them was instrumental in increasing his arousal.
Some touched him gently.
One offered a lingering kiss.
A few hurled insults, hinting that a real man wouldn't let his situation persist.
One youthful female spouted obscenities as she bare-nakedly masturbated before him, openly describing how she could climax while both Dean and his caged partner were kept from such pleasures.
Countless attempts were made to engage Dean and, to his dismay, he realized that his wife had disclosed her husband's predicament to their poolmates, who had all come over to torment him.
A few hours passed before Britney reappeared, dripping in sweat due to the intense heat.
She gave Dean a smile, inquiring, "Everything okay, sweetheart?"
He nodded, even though his toes felt unbearable from the extended state of tension. His erect member had maintained its stiffness despite his body's cramping ache.
Britney chuckled, "Give me a moment. I'm drenched after my workout and need a shower. Catch up with me later."
Time - relative or not - seems stretched when someone is restrained and waiting for their release. Pent up anxiety would have attributed hours passing in his case.
When Britney eventually returned, dry from her shower and looking radiant without any cosmetics on, she untied the ropes holding Dean's hands. She then removed the other, giving him back his mobility.
"Let's go inside, it's too hot here." She advised. "Do you want me to share the message I'd penned on your sign?"
Anxious to know, Dean expressively nodded.
However, that story is saved for a different occasion.
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To be continued.
Read also:
- Yes, Darling
- Eating Out My Wife's Little Friend!
- Watching Great Tits From the Office
- Object of Worship Ch. 01-03
Source: www.nice-escort.de
