u/Straight-Rent-8686

I am a fit muscular man with long blonde hair, brown beard with blonde stripes. I was always proud of my good sense of humour, spontaneous one liners that make people laugh.

I am very picky when it comes to woman. I will not submit to anybody. I desire to be enticed by an attractive and confident woman, who knows what she wants and determined to get it.

I lately become interested in serving a woman, putting someone else's pleasure ahead of mine, delaying my own gratification or putting it aside completely. I like the idea of submitting to someone I am really attracted to and following her orders. Becoming an obedient slave to please her.

I don't have specific list of things. I am not looking for a perfect fit. Just someone desirable I can have fun with to start would be great.

Part 3:

https://www.reddit.com/r/ChastityStories/s/dTyBIIOCp2

(Please let me know if you like the story and if you havd any recommendations, especially you are a Chastity Mistress in London)

I woke to the quiet sound of the bedroom door and the faint clink of a mug being set on the nightstand. The mattress dipped. A warm mouth brushed my forehead, then lingered there for a second longer than necessary.

“Rise and shine, sleepyhead.”

Brigit was already dressed in a light robe. She handed me the coffee and sat cross-legged beside me, her own mug cradled in both hands. The key necklace rested against her neck.

We stayed like that for a while, talking about nothing in particular. The weekend, the movie, how the pizza had been better than expected. Her free hand rested lightly on my thigh the entire time, fingers occasionally brushing the edge of the smaller cage as if by accident.

Eventually she set her empty mug aside and stretched.

“Change of plans for today. My friends invited me to a barbecue starting at midday. I told them I’m bringing my boyfriend.”

“Don’t act so suprised stupid, yes, I am talking about you. You’re coming with me. Pack whatever you need for a few hours outside. We’re leaving in about an hour and a half.”

I nodded.

“Good. Bathroom. Cleaning time.”

I walked ahead of her. She followed, closed the door, and without hesitation she unlocked the tight little cage like she just wants to get this over with. The second the metal came free my cock sprang up, already half-hard and climbing the rest of the way in seconds.

Brigit stared at it, then delivered a sharp, open-handed slap on my cock.

“Who gave you permission to get hard?”

“No one, Mistress.”

“Then why is it pointing at the ceiling like it owns the place?”

She gave it another light slap, watching it throb.

“Look at you. One click of the lock and you’re already leaking on my bathroom floor. Pathetic.”

She soaped her hands and began cleaning me with deliberate, strokes under the head, along the shaft, around the balls while she kept talking in that soft, amused voice.

She rinsed, then stroked once more, slow enough to make my hips twitch.

“Stay still. If you start thrusting into my hand I’m keeping you the smaller cage the enitre next week."

I stayed motionless while she finished. When she was satisfied she dried me off, then picked up the tighter cage again.

“As agreed smaller one for today. Normal size tomorrow if you behave.”

She slowly forced the small cage back down my cock while it was still struggling from the excitement. The fit was even tighter after a night of swelling. When the lock finally clicked she gave the whole thing a testing tug.

“There. Now you have even less room to misbehave. Perfect for a public outing.”

We stepped into the shower together. She ordered me to wash myself thoroughly first, then turn and wash her. I soaped her shoulders, back, breasts, stomach, then knelt to clean between her legs and her ass, taking the time. She stood under the spray with her eyes closed, occasionally correcting the pressure of my hands or telling me to go slower.

When we stepped out she toweled off, walked to the mirror naked and began her makeup.

“Behind me. Mouth on my ass. Stay there until I say otherwise.”

I moved into place, naked except for the tight cage and pressed my lips between her cheeks. She continued blending foundation and lining her eyes as if I were furniture, only occasionally shifting her weight while I was licking and kissing her ass.

“Look at us, romantic, isn’t it?” She chuckled softly.

“Don’t stop. And don’t get any ideas your tongue stays away from my pussy. We’re on a schedule.”

She kept dropping little comments between brushes how purple the cage looked this morning, how obvious it was that I was already leaking again.

Finally she set the last product down.

“Enough. Dress me.”

I followed her into the bedroom. She had already laid out a casual summer outfit a short sundress, light bra and panties, flat sandals. I helped her into each piece while she stood still, watching me work. The dress was short and she looked so hot. When I knelt to slip the sandals onto her feet she rested one hand on my head, absently stroking my hair like I was a particularly well-trained pet.

She clipped the key necklace back into place, checked herself in the mirror, then turned.

“You’re still naked. Get dressed. Quickly. I’m ready and I don’t like waiting.”

I scrambled into jeans and a simple shirt. The smaller cage pressed uncomfortably against the fabric the moment I zipped up. She watched the whole process with open amusement.

At the door she paused, one hand on the handle, and looked at me with a different expression.

“In public we’re a normal couple. You’re my boyfriend. You call me Brigit. No ‘Mistress, no obvious desperation. Be yourself. Enjoy the day. If anyone asks how we reconnected, stick to the truth we ran into each other and things just happened. Clear?”

“Yes… Brigit.”

She smiled, genuine this time, and opened the door.

“Good. Let’s go have some fun, drink some wine and overeat some of that grilled meat.”

The barbecue was fun. I helped at the grill, talked with people I already knew or had seen around town, and spent most of the afternoon sitting beside Brigit like any other couple. Small city, same old faces. She drifted off a few times to laugh and whisper with Annette. I couldn’t tell if the looks meant anything or I’m just being paranoid thinking they are talking about me. We stayed later than planned, both of us a little drunk by the time we got home around 11 PM.

She stopped me on the doorstep, kissed me slow, and smiled.

“It feels so good to be back together.”

We stepped inside. The door closed. She turned and simply looked at me while I stood there in the dim hallway.

Then her hand cracked across my face hard enough to make my ears ring.

The soft expression vanished. Her voice dropped into something cold.

“On your knees. Right fucking now!”

I dropped. She stepped in, seized my ear, and yanked my head down until my cheek almost touched the floorboards.

“Where are you?”

“In your apartment, Mistress.”

She twisted harder.

“I didn’t ask for the address. Where. Are. You.”

“At your feet, Mistress.”

“Whom are you with?”

“You. Only you, Mistress.”

“Is it just the two of us in this place?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Then explain to me why you were still standing like some equal the second that door closed. Who the fuck do you think you are that you get to stand in my presence when we’re alone?”

"I’m your locked chastity slave.”

She shoved my head lower with the sole of her shoe until my forehead pressed the floor.

“Where is your place?”

“On the floor. Below you. At your feet.”

“And who am I?”

“My Mistress. My owner. The woman who owns every part of me.”

She kept the pressure on my head for a long moment, then slowly lifted her foot. Heels clicked against the wood.

"You need to remember that the second we are alone, the boyfriend disappears and the property remains.”

She stopped in front of me, grabbed a fistful of hair, and forced my face up.

“Look at me when I speak to you. Who owns the cock between your legs?”

“You do, Mistress.”

“Who decides if it ever gets unlocked again?”

“You, Mistress.”

“Who can add another week, or a month, simply because she feels like watching you suffer?”

“You, Mistress.”

“And what will you do if I decide right now, while you’re still half-drunk and throbbing inside that cage, to keep you locked until the end of next month?”

“Nothing, Mistress. I accept it. I have no say.”

She smiled, slow and vicious.

“Correct. You have no say. You never did. You only get to kneel here and answer while I decide how much more desperate I want you.”

She released my hair, then slapped me again.

“Say the words. Tell me exactly what you are in this apartment.”

“I am your locked chastity slave, Mistress. A toy. Property. Nothing more."

“And what happens the moment that door closes?”

“The boyfriend is gone. Only the slave remains.”

“Good.” She crouched in front of me, one finger lifting my chin so our eyes met. The key swung between us on its chain.

“You looked almost proud of yourself today. Helping at the grill. Sitting beside me like you belonged at that table as an equal. Did it make you feel like a real man again for a few hours?”

“…A little, Mistress.”

“A little.” She laughed, soft and ugly.

“And now look at you. Cheek red from my hand, forehead still marked by the floor, cock locked so tight it’s probably purple again. That is the truth of what you are.”

She tapped the front of my jeans with one finger, right over the cage. “This pathetic, denied thing that exists to stay hard and useless for my entertainment.”

You are my boyfriend, but this is not a normal relationship between equals. You are here to be locked, denied, and put on the spot whenever it amuses me.”

Her hand slid into my hair again, pulling my head back until my throat was exposed.

“Who decides whether you get to cum next Sunday?”

“You do, Mistress.”

“Who decides whether that chance even exists by then?”

“You, Mistress.”

“And if I wake up tomorrow and decide the smaller cage stays on for the entire week, what do you say?”

“Thank you, Mistress.”

“If I decide there will be no orgasm at all next weekend, only more denial and more teasing, what do you say?”

“Thank you, Mistress.”

“If I decide to keep you locked through the entire next month and make you watch me cum every single night while you stay desperate and ignored, what do you say?”

My cock throbbed hard against the steel.

“Thank you, Mistress.”

She released my hair and stepped in front of me again.

“That is exactly why the cage stays on. Because you need it. Because without it you might start thinking you still have rights. What are you allowed to want?”

“Only what you allow me to want.”

“What happens if you forget your place again the next time a door closes?”

“I get punished, Mistress. Harder. Longer.”

“And do you deserve any of the soft treatment I gave you in public today?”

“…No, Mistress.”

“Correct. You don’t. You deserved exactly what you’re getting now kneeling, red-faced, locked, and reminded that the second we are alone you are nothing but a desperate little toy I keep for my own amusement.”

She stood, smoothed her dress, and pointed toward the bathroom.

“Shower. Now. Move.”

I scrambled up. She followed close, and impatient the entire way.

“Faster. Clothes off the second you’re inside. Hot water. Soap everywhere. Don’t make me wait.”

I stripped and stepped under the spray. She joined me almost immediately, already naked, the key still around her neck. The water ran over both of us while she kept talking.

“I’m so fucking turned on right now. Sitting through that whole barbecue smiling and laughing while this cage kept you locked and useless… I kept thinking about how I’m going to use you tonight. How I’m going to make you fuck me the way you used to, while that pathetic locked cock stays trapped and ignored underneath the strap-on. I want to feel my legs shaking. I want to come so hard I can’t speak. I want you to overpower me, pin me down, and drive into me like the man you were before I owned you. Do you understand how much I need that right now?”

She pushed the soap into my hands.

“Wash me, don’t you dare rush the intimate parts. I want your hands thorough while I tell you exactly how I’m going to use you.”

I soaped her body under the hot water, fingers sliding over her skin while she continued, voice growing more explicit with every sentence.

“I’m aching for it. My pussy has been throbbing since we left. I want to be fucked until I’m dripping down my thighs and can’t hold myself up. I want you on your knees first so I can edge myself on your tongue, slow, stopping every time I get close, until I’m so desperate I’m shaking. Then I’m going to put the strap-on over that little cage of yours and order you to fuck me like you used to when this cock still belonged to you. Hard. Fast. No holding back. Grab my hips, slam into me, make me take every thrust until I come. The entire time your real cock will stay locked, leaking, aching, completely useless while I use the fake one to get exactly what I need. That contrast is what makes me so wet I can barely stand.”

She turned so I could wash her back and the cleft of her ass, still talking without pause.

“I’m going to come tonight as many times i want and you will not. You will stay hard and denied and grateful that I even let you fuck me with the strap on. When I finally tell you to fuck me, I don’t want the careful, obedient slave. I want the version of you that used to pin me down and take what he wanted. Overpower me. Make me feel it for days. Clear?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

She shut off the water, stepped out, and tossed me a towel.

“Dry me. Then dry yourself. Fast. We’re going to the bedroom.”

In the bedroom she pointed to the bottom drawer.

“Strap-on. The black one that fits over the cage. Put it on. Kneel at the foot of the bed. No restraints this time.

I stepped into the harness. The realistic dildo sat firmly over the tight metal cage, the base pressing against the steel with every movement. I knelt. She climbed onto the mattress, spread her legs, and looked down at me with open hunger.

“Tongue. Now. Edge me. Slow. I decide when you stop and when you start again.”

I leaned in and licked. She was already soaked. Her taste filled my mouth as I worked in long, steady strokes, circling her clit, dipping lower, then returning. She kept one hand in my hair, guiding the pressure, stopping me every time her breathing quickened.

“Not yet… stop. Stay still.”

A few seconds of stillness, her thighs trembling.

“Again. Deeper. Suck.”

She edged herself like that for a long time bringing herself right to the brink, then yanking my head back, making me wait while she breathed through it, then forcing my mouth back onto her. The wet sounds filled the room. Her hips rolled against my face. Precum leaked steadily from the cage beneath the harness, ignored.

Finally her voice turned sharp.

“Enough teasing. Fuck me! The way you used to. Don’t you dare hold back.”

I stood, positioned the dildo at her entrance, and thrust in. She was dripping. The moment I started moving she locked her legs around me and ordered,

“Harder. Deeper. Grab my hips and use me.”

I did. I fucked her slamming into her with the full force she wanted. The cage beneath the harness tugged and rubbed with every thrust, a constant, humiliating reminder that my real cock was locked and useless while I gave her exactly what she craved. She met every stroke, nails digging into my back, voice breaking into moans and commands.

She came the first time hard, body seizing, a long broken cry as her pussy clenched around the dildo. I kept thrusting through it exactly as ordered. She barely had time to catch her breath before she was pulling me deeper again.

“Again. Don’t you dare slow down.”

The second orgasm hit faster, wetter, her legs shaking so violently I had to hold her hips steady while she rode it out. Spit and her own wetness slicked the harness. My locked cock throbbed uselessly underneath, leaking freely.

She pushed me back just long enough to roll onto her stomach, ass raised.

“From behind. Make me cum again!”

The angle let me go deeper. She reached under herself and rubbed her clit while I slammed into her, the wet slap of skin on skin loud in the quiet room. Her third orgasm tore through her with a raw, helpless sound, body collapsing forward onto the mattress.

I stayed buried inside her until the last waves faded, breathing hard, the tight cage still crushing my real cock, precum dripping onto the sheets.

She stayed face-down for a long moment, then looked back over her shoulder with a satisfied smile.

“Take the strap-on off. Come here.”

I unbuckled the harness carefully, the dildo sliding free of her, and set it aside. She rolled onto her side and pulled me down beside her, guiding my body against her warm, naked skin. The tight cage still pressed uncomfortably against my thigh, cock swollen and aching inside it, precum still slowly leaking onto the sheets.

“Cuddle. That’s all you get tonight.”

I wrapped an arm around her and held still. My body stayed restless for a long while with leftover frustration, the metal bars digging in every time I shifted, mind replaying the way she had come three times while I stayed locked and used. Eventually the exhaustion from the day and the wine caught up. Her breathing slowed first. Mine followed some time later.

Monday morning the kitchen was quiet and the coffee canister empty.

“We’re going out,” she said, already pulling on jeans and a soft sweater. “I need caffeine and I’m not waiting for a delivery.”

I dressed quickly, jeans, shirt, the smaller cage still locked beneath everything and we walked the few blocks to the corner coffee shop. The place was half-full, low music, the usual weekday crowd. We ordered, then claimed a wide, worn couch in the back corner. She settled against my side, one leg tucked under her, head resting lightly on my shoulder while we waited for the drinks.

For a few minutes the conversation stayed ordinary work, the weather, nothing important. Then she smiled against my shoulder and said,

“Annette texted me this morning. Said she had a good time seeing us together yesterday.”

The barbecue came back in a flash the two of them whispering, the quiet laughter, Annette’s eyes flicking toward me more than once.

“That reminded me. Yesterday when you two were whispering and giggling… and she kept looking over at me. You didn’t say anything about our private life, did you?”

Brigit lifted her head just enough to meet my eyes. She glanced around the coffee shop, then leaned in closer and dropped her voice.

“No, of course not. I didn’t have to. She’s been my best friend since we were small kids, silly. She has known a long time what I am into.”

She sat back a little, still close, still speaking quietly.

“I told her ages ago on a drunk night. She was a bit weirded out by it at first, but she ended up encouraging me. Said if this is what I’m into and what I want, I should just be myself. She was right. Other people don’t know about it, but she does. She even came with me to a few events years ago. She’s not quite into what I am, but we picked up some men at the time. Slowly she became more open-minded. Anyway, that was a long time ago. She knows I keep the men I date locked and that I’m very strict. The second she saw us together she instantly knew you would be no exception. Remember I told you I’m not into that vanilla stuff.”

I swallowed. The cage felt tighter than usual under my jeans.

“So what did you tell her?”

Brigit smiled, slow and private, and kept her voice low enough that only I could hear.

“She asked, ‘If he’s your boyfriend, that means you keep him locked too?’ I said yes. Then she asked when was the last time I let you have an orgasm. I said never. That’s when she giggled… and looked at you.”

I shifted uncomfortably on the couch, keeping my voice low.

“I don’t want this to get out. I’m a bit ashamed of it. I don’t want other people knowing about our private life.”

Brigit turned her head against my shoulder and spoke softly, almost gently.

“Annette can be trusted. Completely. She’s kept my secret for years, really. She never talked about it then and she won’t talk about it now. Your privacy is safe with her.”

I hesitated, then asked, “What events did you go to? What did you two actually do together?”

She glanced around the coffee shop once more and gave a small, private smile.

“I’ll tell you more when we’re back home. This isn’t quite the right spot.”

We switched to safer subjects, work, the weather, nothing that mattered and stayed like that until the cups were empty. Then we walked home in comfortable quiet.

The moment we stepped inside I dropped to my knees before the door had even finished closing. She looked down at me, satisfied, and pointed toward the bathroom.

“Shower. Cage cleaning. You’re finally allowed back into the normal-sized one today.”

I followed. She unlocked the tight little cage, cleaned me thoroughly under the warm water, and locked the larger one back into place with a solid click. The extra room felt almost luxurious after the smaller one, though my cock still pressed hard against the bars almost immediately.

After we dried off I dressed her in a deep-burgundy sheer lingerie set transparent bra, matching crotchless panties, thigh-high stockings. She clipped the collar around my neck, attached the leash, and tugged me into the bedroom.

“On your back. Don’t move.”

I lay still in the center of the bed. She stretched out on her side beside me, one hand settling over the cage, fingers idly tracing the bars while she began speaking without any prompting.

“I used to be really uncomfortable exploring this. The chastity thing. I didn’t want to go anywhere alone. I talked to a lot of weirdos online and had some pretty negative experiences. So one night I asked Annette to come with me to an event in a bigger city. I told her if we didn’t have fun we could just leave and find something else to do.”

Her fingertips kept moving slowly over the metal, occasionally pressing just enough to make me twitch.

“We ended up picking up two submissive men who were friends with each other, the same way we were with Annette. I told them Annette had only come along because of my desire...she didn’t want me going alone.

She actually enjoyed a man who listened properly and satisfied her, but the two of them never really clicked. I did fairly well with his friend… but it was never a relationship like this one. That was mostly sex and me experimenting.

With you it’s different. I take you seriously. Yes, I enjoy calling you my slave and my sex toy and my property but I actually want this to work. I really like you.”

She gave the cage a slow, deliberate squeeze. A bead of precum welled up and slid down the bars onto her fingers. She didn’t comment on it.

“We used to travel most weekends to another city to meet that man. Annette’s side of things never worked out and that relationship quickly fell apart. After a while she got more involved though. She was curious after the stories I told her. She ‘borrowed’ my slave a few times he stayed locked the whole time. She liked the idea of being a little vindictive with her ex-boyfriend’s best friend after their breakup.”

Brigit’s voice stayed calm, almost conversational, while her hand never left the cage.

“We didn’t really play together much. Sometimes I’d let my slave go into her room, lick her to orgasm, or leave him tied up with her for a while. I’m not entirely sure what they did after that. One night though…” She started giggling softly. “The guy was desperately begging to cum. She strapped a little vibrator to his cage and made him stand there and take it until he came inside the metal. Me and Annette just sat on the couch and watched.”

My cock throbbed hard against the bars, already swollen and steadily leaking under her fingers.

“After that Annette said she’d kind of had enough of the whole thing and it was probably better for her to stop the trips. Once they broke whatever off, she didn’t have a reason to keep going anyway.”

She looked down at the wet metal, smiled, and gave it another light stroke.

“One day I’ll surely make you cum in your cage too.”

She felt the cage twitch hard under her fingers the moment she finished the story. A fresh bead of precum slid down the bars. Her smile sharpened into something cold and interested.

“Well, well. Look at that. What is this little reaction?” She gave the metal a firm, testing squeeze. “Does that turn you on? Two fully clothed women making a locked slave stand there and cum inside his cage while they watch from the couch?”

I swallowed. The pressure of her hand was already deliberate.

“Not… not exactly that, Mistress.”

“Then what, exactly?” Her grip tightened another degree.

“I felt your dick twitching and jumping. Don’t insult me by pretending it didn’t. Speak.”

“It’s more… the two women part. Annette being there.”

She stared at me for a long second, eyes narrowing, then let out a short, humorless laugh.

“Annette. So you’re getting turned on by my best friend.”

“I didn’t mean it like that”

“You didn’t mean what?” She squeezed harder, the bars pressing uncomfortably into the swollen head of my cock.

“You just admitted the thing that made this locked cock twitch was the idea of Annette being involved. My closest friend. The woman I’ve known since we were teenagers. The one who already knows you’re locked and denied and crawling for me. And now you’re lying here leaking because of her. Explain yourself.”

My free hand twitched against the sheets. The pressure was building past comfortable into something sharper.

“I… I’m sorry, Mistress. It was just the story. The image of the two of you”

“The image of the two of us,” she repeated slowly “Two fully dressed women. One of them my best friend. Watching a man cum in his cage. And that is what gets my property hard. Not me holding the key. Not me deciding your sentence. Annette???”

"No Mistress, that is not what I meant, just the two of you are so hot and imagined you two with me."

“You are lying in my bed with my hand around your cage, and you are telling me you’re getting hard over Annette. Do you have any idea how that sounds coming out of your mouth?”

The squeeze intensified. Real discomfort edged into pain. My unrestricted hand moved on pure instinct, reaching down toward the metal.

The second my fingers brushed the cage her expression went ice-cold.

“Did I give you permission to touch that?”

I froze mid-reach. “No, Mistress”

“Then why is your hand on my property?” She released the cage only long enough to slap my wrist away hard enough to sting. “You do not get to interfere. You do not get to ease the pressure because it hurts. You stay exactly where I put you and you take whatever I decide to do to this locked cock. Clear?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Say it fully. I want to hear every word.”

“I do not get to touch the cage without permission. I stay still and take whatever you decide to do to it, Mistress.”

She wrapped her hand around the cage again and squeezed with slow, deliberate cruelty, watching my face the entire time.

“You reached for it because it hurt. Because I was making it uncomfortable on purpose. And the entire time you’re still hard. Still leaking. Still thinking about Annette while I punish this cock for reacting to her.”

My hips shifted helplessly against the mattress.

“I’m not trying to think about her, Mistress. It was just the way the story landed”

“The story I told you. About my past. About my best friend. And instead of listening like a good, focused slave you started getting off on it. Look at you. Face flushed. Breathing hard. Cock throbbing against the steel while I talk about another woman. Do you understand how disrespectful that is to the person who actually owns you?”

“Yes, Mistress. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry isn’t enough. I want details. What exactly went through your head when I described Annette strapping that vibrator on and making him stand there until he came in the cage?”

I forced the words out, cheeks burning. “I pictured it. The two of you fully dressed on the couch. Him locked, desperate, shaking. You watching with her, enjoying his suffering and giggling.”

“And that made you harder.”

“…Yes, Mistress.”

“Because of her.”

“…Partly, but mainly because of how you told the story.”

She stared at me, eyes narrowed to slits.

“Partly. So my best friend is part of the reason my locked slave is leaking all over my sheets right now. While I am the one holding the key. You are getting aroused by the idea of another woman being involved in your denial.”

“I don’t want her involved, Mistress. It was just the mental image”

“Do you think I enjoy knowing my property is getting hard for someone else while I’m right here controlling it?”

“No, Mistress. I don’t want you to feel that way. I’m sorry.”

“Then explain yourself properly. Why did the mention of Annette make this cage jump the way it did?”

I swallowed hard, the discomfort in the cage making it difficult to think clearly.

“Because… she’s close to you. Because she already knows what you do to the men you date. Because the idea of two women who both understand the cage and the denial… it hit something. I know it’s wrong. I know I shouldn’t have reacted. But it happened and I couldn’t stop it.”

Brigit stared at me for a second longer… then burst out laughing.

The sound was bright and sudden, completely breaking the cold tension she had built. She released the crushing pressure on the cage and instead gave it a light, almost affectionate pat.

“Oh my god. You should see your face right now."

She kept laughing, shaking her head.

“I was just messing with you. Joking. You silly thing. I know exactly how turned on you are after being locked this long without a single orgasm. Of course you can’t control yourself anymore. Every little story is going to make that cock jump. I’m not getting offended that easily. I do enjoy playing games with you, though. I’m not going to get jealous over something like this.”

She propped herself up on one elbow, still smiling, and looked down at me.

“So… you really like Annette? She turns you on?”

My mind scrambled. One minute she had been furious, squeezing the cage until it hurt, accusing me of disrespect. Now she was laughing and calling it a joke. I couldn’t tell which version was real, or if this was another trap.

I answered carefully, voice uncertain.

“Yes… but all I want is to be with you, Mistress. You’re the one I want.”

She tilted her head, still looking amused.

“So what if I wanted Annette involved with you? Would you agree to that?”

I hesitated only a second.

“Only if you would want that.”

The smile vanished as if it had never been there. Her hand clamped back down on the cage, hard, and her eyes went cold and angry again, exactly the same expression as before.

“So you do admit that you want Annette?”

My stomach dropped. The sudden switch left me scrambling.

“Mistress, please, I didn’t mean it like that, I only said”

She cut me off with another bright laugh, the anger disappearing just as quickly as it had returned. She let go of the cage and poked me in the chest.

“Just kidding again. You should have seen your face. Twice in one conversation. You are so gullible. ”

She settled back onto her side, fingers returning to a light, teasing stroke over the bars.

The pressure hit me without warning. After days of constant teasing, denial, and that never-ending ache, it built so fast it felt like something inside me finally snapped. I tried to speak—tried to warn her—but only broken, stuttering sounds came out.

“M-Mistress… I… I think—”

It was already too late. The orgasm started, the first heavy surge, the stalling feeling like it was trapped and stretched out far longer than it should have been. Then my cock twitched hard against the steel and cum forced its way out in thick spurts, leaking through the bars and onto her fingers. The pleasure was there for a split second… and then the pain swallowed most of it. The metal refused to let my cock throb and pulse the way it needed to. Everything cut short. Incomplete. Barely enjoyable at all.

Brigit’s expression changed the instant she felt the wetness. Her hand left the cage and came down in a sharp, angry slap across the locked metal and my balls.

Once.

Twice.

Three times, each one harder than the last, turning the leftover pulses into pure discomfort.

I jerked back on instinct and grabbed her wrist, stopping the fourth slap.

The look she gave me was ice-cold.

She pulled her hand free slowly, deliberately, and sat up.

“You just came.”

Her voice was quiet, but there was nothing soft in it.

“You just came in my cage. Without permission. And then you put your hand on me to stop me from correcting you.”

I opened my mouth. She cut me off immediately.

“No. You will answer when I ask. Not before. First question: what rule did you just break?”

My face burned. Cum was still slowly leaking onto the sheets.

“I came without your permission, Mistress.”

“Be more precise. What exact rule?”

“No orgasms of any kind full, ruined, or otherwise without your explicit permission. I agreed to that.”

“And yet here we are.” She looked down at the wet cage with open disgust. “You felt it building. You knew what was happening. Why didn’t you say something?”

“I tried, Mistress. The words wouldn’t come out properly. It hit too fast. I’ve been so frustrated for so long that the second it started climbing I couldn’t...”

“You couldn’t control yourself.” She finished the sentence for me, voice dripping with contempt.

“That is exactly what you are going to say every time, isn’t it? ‘It was too fast. I was too desperate. I couldn’t stop it.’ Do you think that excuse works on me?”

“…No, Mistress.”

“Then why did you use it?”

“Because it’s the truth. I felt it building and I panicked. I tried to warn you and only stuttered. By the time anything coherent could come out it was already happening.”

She stared at me for a long moment, then reached down and gave the wet cage a single, punishing squeeze that forced another weak dribble out.

“Describe what you felt. In detail. I want to hear how little control you actually had.”

“And after you finished leaking all over my hand and my sheets, you grabbed me. You stopped me from disciplining you. Explain that decision.”

“I… the slaps hurt and I reacted without thinking. I shouldn’t have touched you. I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry.” She repeated the words like they were worthless. “You broke the most basic rule we have. You came without permission. You interrupted my correction. And the only thing you can offer is ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘it happened too fast.’”

She leaned closer, eyes hard.

“According to the rules you agreed to, any orgasm without explicit permission, ruined or otherwise automatically adds time to your sentence and is followed by punishment. You knew that. You’ve known it since the beginning. So tell me why I shouldn’t treat this exactly as the rules demand.”

I stayed silent for a second too long. She raised an eyebrow.

“Well?”

“You should treat it exactly as the rules demand, Mistress. I broke them. I deserve the added time and the punishment.”

“Good. Then beg me for it. Beg me to add another full week to your chastity sentence as punishment for cumming without permission.”

My face burned, but I forced the words out.

“Please, Mistress… please add another week to my sentence. I came without permission and I deserve to stay locked longer for it. Please punish me with an extra week of chastity.”

She studied me for a moment, then gave a short nod.

“Accepted. One week added. Now, while I’m feeling generous enough to let you participate in your own punishment, you’re going to make up the 11th rule you will follow from now on permanently. You get three attempts. If I don’t like any of them, I add yet another week. You’ll have until I get back from my work trip to think about it and present them properly. Understood?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Good.” Her expression hardened again.

“I’m also extremely pissed off that you just wasted all that carefully built frustration. Days of denial, all that aching and leaking, and you go and ruin it with an unauthorized, incomplete little orgasm. So now you’re going to practise control.”

She reached into the bottom drawer and pulled out a magic wand. The thick head buzzed to life with a low, powerful hum. She pressed it directly against the underside of the cage, right where the head of my cock was trapped against the bars.

The vibration shot through the metal instantly. My hips jerked.

“Stay still. Every time you get very close you will ask me quickly and clearly if you may have permission to cum. Every single time. If you fail to ask, or if you cum again, the consequences will be significantly worse.”

She turned the intensity up.

The first climb was brutal and fast. The ruined orgasm had done almost nothing to take the edge off, if anything the frustration came roaring back harder. Within less than a minute I was already right on the brink, cock straining against the steel, balls drawing up.

“Mistress, please may I have permission to cum?!”

She switched the wand off immediately.

“No. Keep dreaming.”

She continued, the same thing, 10 times, each time I asked she kept saying no, followed by a sarcastic or mocking comment.

Tenth. She held the buzzing head against the cage longer than before, watching my face twist, watching the desperate way my hips tried to escape and couldn’t. When I finally gasped the question she switched it off and set the wand aside.

“No. And that is ten. Look at the state of you.”

My locked cock was dark purple, throbbing visibly against the metal, balls drawn up tight and aching. Precum and the earlier cum had mixed into a slick mess all over the cage and the sheets. It felt like the ruined orgasm had never happened. The desperation was back at full force, maybe worse.

She looked down at the ruined, overstimulated state of me and then met my eyes again.

“One more thing. When you finally lost control earlier when that locked cock twitched and started leaking without permission you had just been talking about Annette. You had just admitted she was part of the reason this cage was reacting so strongly. And the very next time my hand was on you, you came.

I’m going to keep that in mind.”

I opened my mouth to explain to say the frustration had simply built too high, that Annette hadn’t been in my head.

She raised one finger.

“No. You don’t get to reply. Not to that. You will sit there in silence with that wet, purple, locked cock and you will think about the fact that the first time you broke the most important rule, my best friend’s name was still in the air.”

The silence that followed felt heavier than any of the questions. I stayed still, the last of the earlier cum cooling on the bars, the fresh, brutal denial pounding through me, and the absolute refusal to let me speak left me feeling completely defeated.

Part 2: https://www.reddit.com/r/ChastityStories/s/qLSdA18cBw

I moved behind her on my knees and pressed my mouth between her cheeks. She continued applying foundation and eyeliner as if I weren’t even there, only occasionally shifting her weight to press back against my tongue.

While I worked she spoke to my reflection, voice light and mocking.

“Who would have thought? The same guy who took my virginity in high school is now my boyfriend… and my locked little ass-licking chastity slave”

She kept making small comments like that for the next ten or fifteen minutes soft, casual humiliations dropped between brushes of mascara and lipstick while I stayed in place, licking steadily.

Finally she set the makeup down.

“Enough. Follow me.”

In the bedroom she had me help dress her, stockings first, then the underwear, the bra, the tight black top, and last the short red miniskirt. Once she was ready she clipped the key necklace back around her neck and looked at me.

“Hurry up and get dressed. We’re leaving.”

Dinner was surprisingly normal. Good food, two or three glasses of wine each, easy conversation that drifted from old school stories to random things that had happened over the years. For a while I almost forgot the cage was there. Time moved quickly.

When we got home she was clearly tired. She closed the door, leaned against it for a second, then looked at me.

“Undress me. Slowly.”

I took my time with every piece, the top, the bra, the skirt, the stockings, the underwear, until she stood completely naked. She walked over to the small table by the bed, opened the drawer, and took out a pair of cuffs. She held them out to me.

“Cuff your hands behind your back. Then get on your knees and lick me until I cum.”

I locked the cuffs myself and knelt between her legs. She sat on the edge of the bed and opened her thighs. I leaned in and started licking, slow and thorough. She rested one hand in my hair and let me work, occasionally giving quiet instructions about speed or pressure. After several minutes her breathing changed, her thighs tightened, and she came with a low, drawn-out sound, holding my head in place until the last waves passed.

When she finished she reached down, unlocked the cuffs, and set them aside. She looked at me with a tired expression.

“I had a really good evening,” she said quietly. “I’m going to fall asleep now.”

She slipped under the covers, turned onto her side, and within a few minutes her breathing had already slowed. The key necklace stayed around her neck. The cage stayed locked on me.

I managed to get some sleep too, all though I woke up a few times but managed to get back to sleep.

Saturday morning we had coffee in the kitchen. She was wearing only a light robe, loosely tied, the key still hanging around her neck. We talked about nothing important for a while. After a short break she looked at me over her mug.

“Go to the bedroom. Bottom drawer. Bring me one of the little sealed bags.”

I walked into the bedroom and opened the bottom drawer. It was completely full fifty, maybe a hundred small sealed plastic bags, each containing a different lingerie set. I didn’t think much about it and simply grabbed a red one, then headed back.

“Hurry up!” she called from the bathroom.

I found her standing by the sink. She took the bag from me, set it aside, and unlocked the cage without ceremony. The moment the metal came free I was already fully hard. She had to work the ring past the base carefully because of how swollen I was.

The second the cage was off she gave my cock a sharp slap.

“Who gave you permission to get hard?”

I stayed silent.

“I asked you a question. Who gave you permission?”

“…No one, Mistress.”

“That’s right. No one. And yet here you are, standing in my bathroom with a rock-hard cock the moment I take the cage off, as if you still think this belongs to you.”

She gave it another light slap, not hard enough to really hurt, but sharp.

“You’re lucky I’m even unlocking you for cleaning. Four full days left. No orgasm. Not even a chance of one. And just so we’re clear, tomorrow there will be no edging either. You lost that privilege when you decided to tell me how horny and desperate you were feeling.”

I couldn’t help it. The more she talked about the remaining days and the cancelled edging, the harder I got. She noticed immediately while trying to force the cage back down over me.

“Mistress… the way you’re talking about keeping me denied is making me even harder.”

“Did you think I was going to make it easy for you? You get hard from being told you’re staying locked, and you expect me to what, be gentle about it? This is exactly why you stay in the cage. Now hold still.”

It took her another minute of firm, patient pressure before the cage finally locked back into place with a solid click. She gave it a testing tug, then nodded once.

“Soap. Everywhere. Now.”

I washed her thoroughly under the warm water — shoulders, back, breasts, stomach, ass, legs — taking my time exactly as she liked. When she was rinsed and dried she pointed to the red bag.

“Dress me.”

I opened it. Inside was a sheer red transparent lingerie set with matching stockings. I helped her into the panties first, then the bra, then carefully rolled the stockings up each leg and smoothed them into place. The fabric left almost nothing to the imagination. She looked at herself in the mirror for a moment, adjusted the key necklace so it sat clearly between her breasts, and gave me a small, satisfied smile.

She clipped the collar around my neck, and led me into the bedroom. I first layed down beside her. For the next hour the conversation stayed mostly normal, yet her attention never left my locked cock. Every time the metal began to loosen its grip she noticed. Sometimes her palm settled over the entire cage, heavy and still, trapping the heat against my skin. Other times a single fingertip traced slow, maddening circles around my balls, or rubbed back and forth across the slit in the cage where the head of my cock pressed against the steel.

A thin, steady bead of precum would form, cool at first, then warm as it slid down the metal and onto her finger. She never commented on it. She simply kept the contact light enough that I never reached the edge, yet constant enough that my cock stayed swollen, twitching, never allowed to fully soften.

After a long stretch of easy talk her tone changed without warning. The casual warmth vanished.

“You’re making it very obvious that you’re enjoying this too much.”

“I… I just find you very attractive, Mistress. And I enjoy being with you."

She gave a small, cold laugh. Her hand remained on the cage, thumb idly stroking the warm metal.

“Being with me. How sweet. Let’s be more precise. Do you enjoy being my little sex toy? The locked, leaking thing I keep deprived with no real chance to cum?”

“…I enjoy serving you, Mistress.”

“That’s not what I asked. Do you enjoy leaking inside that cage while I keep you denied?”

A fresh drop of precum welled up and escaped under her finger.

“…Yes, Mistress.”

“Do you enjoy the fact that there is currently no chance of an orgasm for you?”

I hesitated. Her fingers tightened just enough to make the cage press harder against the sensitive head.

“Answer properly.”

“Yes, Mistress. I accept that there’s no chance right now.”

She smiled without warmth. The tip of her finger kept moving in tiny, deliberate circles.

“Accept. Interesting word. Let me describe it more clearly for you. I’m going to keep you locked, desperate, and constantly hungry. Days will pass. The pressure will build. You’ll ache. You’ll leak. You’ll think about my pussy every time you feel the cage. And even when the rare chance for an orgasm finally appears, that chance will not mean you actually get to have one. I might still deny you at the last second. Will you enjoy that too?”

My cock flexed hard inside the metal, the chain of the collar shifting with every shallow breath I took.

“If that is what you decide, Mistress, then yes. I will accept it.”

“Even if you do eventually get one orgasm on some exceptionally rare occasion… do you really think that single orgasm will be satisfying? After everything I’m going to put you through?”

“…No, Mistress. I don’t think one orgasm will be enough to calm me down.”

“Correct. It won’t. And on those rare occasions when I do allow it, you’ll still go through a long, thorough edging session afterward. Then you’ll be locked again, hopefully even more turned on than before. Are you still enjoying the idea of being my deprived little toy?”

My cock had become fully rigid again, the skin stretched tight against the bars. A slow trickle of precum ran down the side of the cage and onto her fingers. She noticed and gave the metal a slow, deliberate squeeze that forced another drop out.

“Yes, Mistress,” I whispered.

She continued, voice soft but relentless. Occasionally her other hand slipped between her own thighs, rubbing slow circles over her clit through the thin red fabric. The quiet, wet sound of it was just audible beneath her words.

“When you’re lying here leaking and aching, knowing I could unlock you at any moment but choose not to… does that make you feel owned?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Does it make you feel small?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Does part of you hate how easily I can keep you in this state?”

“…Yes, Mistress. Part of me does.”

“And yet you’re still hard. Still leaking. Still answering my questions like a good boy. That contradiction is delicious to me.”

She rubbed herself more openly for a few seconds, I could see her fingers glistening, then returned her full attention to my face.

“When I talk about keeping you locked for days with no release, does it make you more aroused or more afraid?”

“…Both, Mistress.”

“Which one wins?”

“The arousal, Mistress. Even when I’m afraid of how long it might last.”

“Good. And when I tell you that even a future orgasm might be ruined, or taken away at the last second, what does that do to you?”

“…It makes me harder, Mistress.”

“Of course it does.” She gave the cage another slow stroke, spreading the wetness. “Do you understand that I can decide tomorrow morning to add another week, and you will still thank me for it?”

“Yes, Mistress. I understand.”

“Do you understand that I can keep you locked through the entire next month if I feel like it, and your only job will be to stay desperate and obedient?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“And if I ever do let you cum, do you understand that it will be on my terms, at my pace, and only because it entertains me, not because you need it?”

“Yes, Mistress. I understand completely.”

She watched me for a long moment, clearly savouring how carefully I answered while my cock continued to leak under her hand.

“One more. When you feel the cage get tight and you start leaking while I’m asking you these questions… do you feel grateful that I’m the one controlling it?”

I met her eyes. The scent of her arousal was stronger now.

“Yes, Mistress. I’m grateful.”

“That’s the correct answer. Keep remembering it.”

She climbed up and straddled my chest. The heat of her thighs settled on either side of me. She pulled the crotch of her red transparent panties aside; the fabric was already soaked. She pushed her middle finger deep into her pussy, the wet sound clear in the quiet room, and fucked herself with it several times while looking straight down at me. When she withdrew the finger it shone under the low light, a thick strand of her wetness briefly connecting it to her before breaking.

She brought it to my lips.

“Taste what keeping you in prison and desperately horny does to me. This is the thing you want so badly… and the thing you can’t have.”

I opened my mouth. She held the finger there, letting me clean it completely, while the weight of her body and the locked cage between my legs reminded me exactly how little control I had left.

She pulled her finger from my mouth and sat back on my chest, looking down at me like I was something she owned and found mildly entertaining.

“You actually managed to turn me on. All that careful obedience while you leaked and squirmed under me. Fine. You get a reward. The kind of reward a locked toy deserves — more frustration.”

“Choose. Blowjob through the cage, rubbing that useless locked cock against my pussy, or against my ass. Speak.”

“The blowjob, Mistress.”

“Of course.”

She climbed off and restrained me without hurry or kindness. Wrists yanked up and locked to the headboard, ankles spread wide and cuffed hard to the foot of the bed, a thick strap cinched across my hips so I couldn’t move them at all, and a short chain from the collar to the headboard that forced my head back. When she finished I was completely immobilised, nothing more than a restrained, caged object on her sheets.

She knelt between my legs, set a five-minute timer, and held the phone so I could see it.

“Cage stays on. You will not touch me. If you cannot last five full minutes without begging me to stop, you will be punished. You are also forbidden from any orgasm without my explicit permission, not even a pathetic, ruined pulse inside the cage. If you get close, you announce it. Clear?

“Yes, Mistress.”

She gripped the cage, locked her eyes on mine, and took the tip into her mouth.

She worked me with deliberate cruelty. Long, wet licks along every bar. Slow suction focused exactly on the most sensitive spots the metal still allowed. Every time my breathing stuttered she adjusted her technique to push me closer. She was not giving me a blowjob. She was trying to break me in under five minutes, and she wanted me to watch her do it.

At three minutes I was already leaking steadily and pulling against the cuffs hard enough to make the chains rattle. At four minutes the pressure in my balls became sharp and urgent. The edge rushed up fast and dirty.

“Mistress stop. Please. I’m too close.”

She pulled off at once. A string of saliva still connected her lip to the wet metal. Without changing expression she slapped the inside of my left thigh, hard. Then the right. The sting was bright and ugly and instantly killed most of the arousal. My cock shrank inside the cage.

“No, Chastity slaves do not cum. They stay locked, aching, and denied. You have ten minutes to calm down.”

She left. Ten minutes later she returned with a much smaller a blindfold. The blindfold went on first. I heard the original cage unlock. The brief freedom lasted only seconds before she began forcing the tighter ring behind my balls. She was not gentle. She pushed, twisted, and pressed until the lock finally snapped shut with a cold, final click. The new cage was shorter, narrower, and left almost no room to swell.

She tore the blindfold off.

My cock was already crushed against the bars, the skin tight and reddened.

“You had far too much freedom in the other cage. You were swelling, throbbing, leaking like you still believed this cock belonged to you. Today you wear this tighter one as punishment. Tomorrow I may allow the previous cage again if I decide.”

She flicked the smaller cage with one fingernail, making it sting.

“You couldn’t survive five minutes of a caged blowjob. Four minutes and you were already begging me to stop like some desperate, untrained virgin. That is the level of control you have. And the other day you actually asked about sex. About fucking me. You wanted me to put this thing inside me? This weak, locked cock that cannot even endure five minutes of attention while it’s trapped in steel? It would be embarrassing for both of us. You would finish the moment you felt heat.”

She leaned closer, eyes cold and amused.

“Because you failed so quickly, we start the five minutes again. Same rules. If you fail a second time the punishment will be significantly worse. And do not even think about cumming in my mouth. If I suspect you are close I will stop, and you will regret it. Clear?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

She reset the timer, lowered her head, and took the tightly caged cock back into her mouth.

The smaller cage made every sensation harsher. She licked and sucked with the same focused cruelty, tongue pressing against the bars, saliva running down over my balls, eyes never leaving mine. I fought in silence. My thighs shook. My hands yanked at the cuffs until my wrists burned. At four minutes and thirty seconds I was right on the edge again, jaw locked so tight it ached, refusing to make a sound.

The timer rang.

She lifted her head, wiped her mouth with two fingers, and looked down at the smaller cage still wet with her spit and my precum.

“You almost failed again. Congratulations. You are still locked, still denied, and now you are trapped in an even tighter cage. That is exactly where a weak, overeager little chastity slave belongs.”

She climbed up my body without a word and straddled my face, knees locking on either side of my head. The short chain on the collar left me no room to turn away. She lowered herself until her warm, pussy crushed against my mouth and nose, then began grinding in slow, circles, across my face.

“Look at that pathetic purple cock,” she said, glancing back over her shoulder with open contempt. “Straining so hard inside that tiny cage it’s turning colour. Swollen, trapped, completely useless. I did that to you. And it’s making me drip.”

I can make myself cum whenever I please. Right now. In ten minutes. After I’ve edged myself four or five times just to drag it out and watch you suffer. You can’t stop me. You can’t join me. You just lie there with that locked, discoloured cock and take it.”

She lifted her hips suddenly, denying me even the contact, and sat back on my chest. She started rubbing her clit in deliberate, wet circles right above my face.

“This is what you want,” she murmured, two fingers pushing deep inside herself with a filthy wet sound. “And you will never have it. You only get to watch while I use it in front of you.”

She fucked herself slowly, sometimes pulling her fingers out to circle her clit, sometimes driving them back in and curling them while she stared down at me. Every time her breathing quickened she stopped dead, edging herself, making sure I saw exactly how easily she could deny even herself for the sake of prolonging my torment.

“I love that you are my toy. I love how purple and trapped your cock looks. I love that you can feel how soaked I am and still cannot do a single thing about it. You exist for this to be locked, denied, and used as furniture while I get myself off.”

She was right on the edge. Her fingers worked faster, thighs trembling, breath catching then she suddenly stopped. Completely. She pulled her hand away and sat still above me, clearly fighting the urge to finish.

“Too early,” she said, voice rough. “I want to deny myself with you for a bit. Of course only for as long as I decide. It’s more fun if I stay horny as hell too.”

She shifted lower, straddling my hips instead of my face, and leaned down to kiss me. The kiss was slow and deep, almost affectionate, while one hand reached between us and wrapped around the small, tight cage.

She started rubbing the locked, straining metal directly against her wet pussy, dragging it up and down along her slit, pressing the cold bars against her clit.

She kept her eyes on mine the whole time, biting her lower lip, using my desperately swollen cock as her personal toy. Every time she rolled her hips the chain on the cage pulled tight. I could feel how slick she was, how deliberately she was edging herself on the very thing she refused to let me use.

I lost it.

My whole body started shaking. I yanked hard against the wrist cuffs, the ankle restraints, the hip strap, chains rattling, muscles burning, completely unable to get any real movement. The frustration boiled over until the words tore out of me without permission.

“Please, I can’t take it anymore. Please give me a break.”

The second the plea left my mouth her expression changed. Her eyes darkened with fresh arousal. She sat up, pushed two fingers back inside herself, and started fingering herself again right there on top of me, faster and wetter than before, clearly feeding on my outburst.

She only lasted a few more moments before she slowed and stopped once more, breathing hard.

“Okay,” she said, almost reluctantly. “We might need to take a break.”

She climbed off the bed, pulled her robe back on without bothering to close it, and left the room. I heard the coffee machine in the kitchen. Fifteen long minutes passed while I stayed exactly as she had left me, restrained, locked in the smaller cage, cock still throbbing and purple.

When she came back she was carrying a mug. She sat on the edge of the bed beside me, took a slow sip, and reached down to casually caress the tight metal cage with her free hand, tracing the bars like she was petting a slightly disappointing pet.

“Did you manage to calm down?”

I swallowed.

“…A little, Mistress.”

She smiled, all mock sympathy, and kept stroking the cage while she sipped her coffee.

“Only a little? Tragic. You should have seen yourself earlier — shaking, rattling the chains, pulling and then that heartfelt ‘please, I can’t take it anymore.’ Honestly, I almost came just from the performance. Very moving. Ten out of ten for desperation.”

“Be honest. When you shouted for a break, what exactly were you hoping I’d do? Unlock you? Let you cum? Or simply stop grinding on this poor, overworked little cage of yours?”

I felt my face heat up.

“…I just needed it to stop for a moment, Mistress.”

“Mhm. And now that the cruel woman has stopped, do you feel better… or are you already missing the abuse?”

I hesitated. Her fingers kept tracing the bars, light and relentless.

“…Both.”

“Both,” she repeated, delighted. “Perfect answer."

“I’m curious. If I went back to grinding on you right now, how long do you honestly think you’d last before the begging started again? Be generous with yourself.”

“…Not long, Mistress.”

“Not long,” she agreed, smiling. “I’m thinking ninety seconds, maybe two minutes if you’re feeling heroic. I might test the theory later. Or I might make you wait a full hour first, just to watch the anticipation eat you alive. Still undecided. Options are open.”

She gave the cage another slow, almost tender caress.

“You’re being very quiet now. Did the break actually help, or are you just sitting there calculating which answer is least likely to get you into more trouble?”

“…A bit of both, Mistress.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not done with you. I’m simply enjoying my coffee and this charming view of my locked, purple toy while I decide what fresh misery to invent next. You just stay right there and keep leaking for me. It’s a very flattering look on you in a tragic sort of way.”

She traced one fingernail along the side of the cage, watching it twitch in response.

“Most people would at least try to hide how desperate they still are after a break. You? Still throbbing away under my fingers like an eager little failure. It’s almost endearing. Almost.”

" There is nowhere to hide, you are so beautiful Mistress?”

She laughed, bright and openly mocking.

“Oh, look at that. Does it embarrass you when I say these things out loud, or have we moved past shame entirely?”

“Yes, Mistress. It embarrasses me.”

She finished her coffee, set the mug aside, and stood up.

“I need to book a hotel for Tuesday. Work trip.”

She left for a moment and returned with her laptop. Without untying me she set it carefully on my chest, opened it, then climbed up and sat on my face, settling her weight so her still-wet pussy rested over my mouth and nose.

“Stay still while I do this.”

She typed with one hand, shifting and grinding lightly against my face whenever she needed a better view of the screen. Soft mutters about dates and prices mixed with the occasional sharp twist of a nipple or a sudden shake of the cage whenever my breathing started to even out.

After a few minutes she closed the laptop with a quiet click.

“All booked. I’ll be gone until Friday, but I should be home early. If you’re lucky you’ll spend Friday night right back in this position.”

She climbed off, stretched, and reached for clothes.

“I’m hungry. Going downstairs for pastries. Don’t move.” Followed by laughter "Not that you could anyway."

She left me fully restrained. The wait felt longer than it was. When she came back she carried a small paper bag, untied me methodically, and nodded toward the kitchen.

“Come on. Eat something.”

We sat at the table and finished the pastries in comfortable quiet. When the last one was gone she looked at me.

“Bedroom. Bottom drawer pick another set. And bring the black strap-on that fits over your chastity cage.”

I returned with a deep emerald-green sheer set, transparent bra, matching crotchless panties, and thigh-high stockings with darker lace tops, plus the harness.

She took the strap-on, stepped into it, and adjusted the realistic black dildo so it sat firmly over my locked cage, the base pressing against the metal.

Then she dropped to her knees, wrapped her hand around the shaft, and took it into her mouth. She gave the dildo a slow, deliberate blowjob, eyes fixed on mine the entire time tongue swirling, wet sounds filling the quiet bathroom, while my real cock stayed trapped and ignored underneath.

She smirked up at me.

“You wish I’d treat you like this, don’t you? All that attention… and none of it for the part that actually wants it.”

She stood, led me into the shower, and turned on the water. Once we were both under the spray she placed her hands on the tiles and looked back over her shoulder.

“Fuck me.”

I pushed the dildo inside. She was still soaked. The moment I started moving she began giving short, clear orders, harder, deeper, don’t you dare slow down, her voice growing more demanding with every thrust. The cage beneath the harness tugged and rubbed constantly, a relentless reminder of everything I wasn’t feeling. She pushed back against me, moaning, until her legs started to shake. She came hard, almost collapsing forward against the wall, trembling so strongly I had to hold her hips steady while she rode it out.

When she finally stilled she shut off the water, stepped out, and pointed to the emerald lingerie waiting on the counter.

“Dress me. Slowly. Kiss my pussy before every piece. Panties last.”

I started with the stockings, rolling them up carefully. Before each one I leaned in and pressed a kiss between her legs. She watched me with a small, satisfied smile and began speaking while I worked.

“You know what I love about sex like this? I only have to think about myself. It’s over when I’m finished, not when the man happens to finish.

Normally he’d either cum after me and I’d still have to deal with him, or he’d finish too early and ruin the whole thing.

This way there’s none of that. No cleanup. No compromise. Just my pleasure, on my schedule, while every drop of cum stays locked right where it belongs, inside your balls, making you more desperate by the hour.”

I fastened the sheer green bra next, kissing her again beforehand. She continued, voice calm and almost thoughtful.

“I can take as long as I want. Cum once, twice, three times, and you’re still hard and ready underneath because you don’t get a choice. No early ending. No having to pretend I care about your orgasm. Pure convenience. My body, my timing, and you stay full and denied. Honestly, it’s the better arrangement.”

Finally I reached for the crotchless panties. I knelt, kissed her pussy one last time, slow and lingering, then looked up. Without a word she turned around and pushed her ass back toward my face.

“That too.”

I kissed her there as well. Only then did she let me slide the panties into place. She clipped the collar back around my neck, attached the leash, and gave it a firm tug.

“Living room. Now.”

She picked up the remote and glanced at me.

“Movie? What do you feel like watching?”

We scrolled for a couple of minutes until we found something light and easy that we both agreed on. She pressed play, then pointed to the floor beside the couch.

“Stay there.”

I knelt naked except for the collar and the tight little cage while the opening credits rolled. For the first ten minutes her hand drifted down occasionally, first playing with my chest hair, absent-minded strokes, then reaching lower to wrap her fingers around the cage, giving it a firm squeeze or a short, deliberate tug before letting go again. It was never enough to push me close, but it kept me constantly aware of the metal.

After a while she patted the cushion next to her.

“Come sit.”

I climbed up. The emerald lingerie left almost nothing to the imagination, her breasts were clearly visible through the sheer fabric and the crotchless panties framed her pussy completely. I couldn’t stop my eyes from dropping.

She noticed and smiled.

“You’re getting so obsessed with me, aren’t you?”

Before I could answer she placed her hand flat over the cage.

“Watch the movie.”

Her hand stayed there, warm and still at first, only occasionally adjusting or giving a light squeeze. After a few more minutes she began sliding her middle finger slowly back and forth across the top of the cage, using the precum that had already leaked as lube.

She shifted closer, voice low.

“I’m feeling a bit needy. Wipe that precum off, then come back and cuddle me.”

I cleaned the metal quickly and returned. She turned onto her side, guided my hips forward, and settled the locked cage snugly between her ass cheeks.

“Do not dare leak all over my couch,” she said, suddenly stern. “I mean it.”

I tried to stay still. The heat of her body and the pressure against the cage made it almost impossible. After a short while my hips started moving on their own, small, involuntary thrusts. She felt it immediately.

She sat up fast, eyes sharp.

“Did I say you could thrust?”

“No, Mistress, I couldn’t help...”

“On the floor. Now.”

I scrambled down. She stood, disappeared into the bedroom, and came back with cuffs. Without another word she locked my wrists behind my back and cuffed my ankles together, then pointed at the spot directly in front of the couch.

“You clearly can’t control yourself. You don’t belong up here with me.”

She sat back down, crossed one leg over the other, and looked at me with open amusement.

“You want to thrust something so badly? Go ahead. Hump my leg.”

I hesitated. She raised an eyebrow.

“I wasn’t asking.”

I shuffled forward on my knees and awkwardly pressed the swollen cage against her calf, starting to rub against it. She watched for a moment, then laughed, a bright, mocking sound.

“Oh my god. Look at you. I cannot believe I used to let you fuck me. And now you’re down here humping my leg like some desperate little toy because you can’t even keep still on the couch.”

“Mistress… can I stop?”

“No! You started this. You keep going until I say otherwise. That’s what sex toys do.”

I kept moving, the tight cage rubbing against her smooth skin, my face burning. She kept talking.

“Does it feel good, grinding that locked cock on my leg? Is this what you needed? A bit of friction for my poor frustrated toy? Keep going. I want to see how long you can keep this up before you look even more ridiculous than you already do.”

She let me continue for several long minutes, occasionally shifting her leg just to make it more awkward, laughing softly whenever I faltered. Finally she uncrossed her legs and pointed to the floor at her feet.

“Enough. Stay there.”

I settled onto the floor in front of the couch, wrists still cuffed behind me, ankles locked, collar on, the small cage visibly swollen and shiny. She pressed play again, rested her bare feet lightly against my thigh, and returned her attention to the screen as if nothing had happened.

We watched the rest of the movie like that me restrained and aching at her feet, her completely at ease above me.

After the movie we opened a bottle of wine and ordered pizza. When the delivery arrived she had me help her into her robe and close it properly so nothing showed. We sat at the table, ate, and talked about nothing important while the wine loosened the edges of the evening. For a little while it almost felt ordinary.

When we finished she stood up, stretched, and walked toward the bedroom.

“Come on. Bedtime.”

I followed. She dropped the robe the moment the door closed, completely naked except for the key around her neck, and pointed to the side of the bed.

“Stand there. Hands at your sides. No touching yourself. No touching me.”

I took my place, caged cock already aching. She climbed onto the mattress, settled back against the pillows, and spread her legs so I had a clear view.

“Since you’re already in the smaller cage and you’re not getting unlocked tonight anyway, I might as well make myself cum in front of you before I go to sleep.”

She reached down and began stroking her clit slowly, eyes on me.

“Look at you. Locked, denied, standing there like a good little toy while I get to feel everything. You’re not allowed to rub that pathetic cage. You’re not allowed to touch me. All you get is the view and the sound of my voice. Clear?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

She circled her clit with two fingers, occasionally dipping lower to push inside, watching me the entire time.

“I could suck you again, you know. Drop to my knees, take that locked cock in my mouth, lick every bar, swirl my tongue over the tip where you’re already leaking… make you feel how wet and warm I am.”

She leaned forward a little, lips parting as if she were about to do exactly that, then pulled back at the last second with a soft, mocking laugh.

“But I won’t. Not tonight. You don’t deserve even that.”

My hips twitched helplessly.

“Desperate already? Good.”

She kept touching herself, fingers working faster, and reached up with her free hand to lift the key from around her neck. She dangled it in front of me, letting it swing, then slowly brought it down toward the lock on my cage.

“Please, Mistress… please unlock me. Please let me cum. I’ll do anything.”

She slotted the tip of the key into the lock and left it there, not turning it, just resting inside the keyhole while she rubbed her clit harder.

“Feel that? So close. One little twist and you’d be free.

I was shaking, cock throbbing angrily against the bars, precum smearing the metal. She saw every desperate twitch and only stroked herself faster, voice low and cruel.

“Look at how pathetic you are the second the key is in the lock. Shaking. Leaking. Begging. Chastity slaves don’t get release just because they sound pretty when they beg.”

“Please… Mistress, please turn it. Please”

She came with a long, low moan, hips lifting off the bed, fingers buried deep, the key still sitting unused in the lock of my cage. She kept rubbing through the waves until they finally faded, breathing hard, a satisfied flush on her cheeks.

After she came, the key still resting uselessly in the lock of my cage, she stayed quiet for a few long seconds, breathing evening out while she watched me. Then her expression shifted. The satisfied flush stayed, but her eyes hardened.

She pulled the key free with a soft metallic click and held it up between two fingers, dangling it just out of reach.

“You begged.”

Her voice had gone cold. Strict. Condescending in that way that always made my stomach drop.

“Who told you earlier you could beg. There is a line, and you crossed it the second you started pleading to be unlocked and to cum. That is not allowed. That is never allowed. You know the rules. Chastity slaves do not get to negotiate release. Toys do not get to demand orgasms. Yet here you are, shaking and leaking and trying to talk your way out of the cage like a spoiled little brat who thinks begging hard enough will change the rules.”

She sat up straighter, still completely naked, the key swinging slowly between us.

“I could double your sentence right now. Add another full week to the 5 days you have. Keep you in this pathetic little cage until the weekend after next and make you thank me for every extra day. I would enjoy watching you suffer that long. But I’m feeling generous tonight. So I’m giving you one chance to save yourself from real punishment.”

She leaned forward slightly, eyes locked on mine.

“Ask me nicely. Beg me for your new sentence. Tell me exactly how long you want to stay locked. And then apologise properly for being such a stupid, disobedient little brat who couldn’t simply obey.”

My heart hammered. My cock throbbed uselessly against the bars, still purple, still leaking, still desperate from everything she had just put me through.

“I… I want it extended until next Sunday, Mistress,” I said, voice unsteady. “Please. So I still have a chance at the end of next weekend. I’ll stay locked. I’ll take the smaller cage again tomorrow. I’ll do whatever you want. Please don’t make it longer than that. I’m sorry. I was stupid. I got carried away when the key was in the lock and I begged for things I know I’m not allowed to ask for. Please accept it. Please.”

She stared at me for a long moment, the corner of her mouth curling in something that wasn’t quite a smile.

“Fuck, you’re pathetic when you’re desperate.”

The cruelty in her voice softened only a fraction.

“I’m reluctant… but I’ll accept it. Instead of five more days, you get a chance next Sunday. Bear in mind it’s already Saturday evening, so you got off with the absolute minimum. Consider yourself lucky.”

She tugged me down onto the bed beside her, pulling my body against her warm, naked skin, arms wrapping around me.

“Next time I won’t be this forgiving. Now cuddle. That’s all you get.”

Part 1: https://www.reddit.com/r/ChastityStories/s/sIqxy5TcP8

The next day she messaged me around midday.

Brigit: I was smiling all day thinking about you. I can’t wait to see you again.

Me: Me too, but I’m trying not to think too hard… I don’t want it to get uncomfortable. Finally somewhat calmed down.

Brigit: We have a long weekend coming up, do you have any plans? I thought we could spend it at my place. You wouldn’t need to bring anything.

Me: Sure, I can come over. We can spend some time together.

Brigit: I have dinner with the girls tonight, but I’ll message you when I wake up Friday morning and we can spend the weekend including Monday together.

Me: Sounds good. Let me know when you’re awake and I’ll come over.

I put the phone down and stared at the ceiling for a while.

Oh. So I won’t see her tonight. That means another night locked with no chance of the cage coming off. I can’t be this clingy. We can’t spend every single night together. That’s insane.

Later in the evening she sent a selfie. She was out with her friends, smiling at the camera. The thin chain around her neck was clearly visible, the small metal key resting right in the centre of her chest.

I couldn't sleep in the past few days The cage still felt foreign and constant. I finally passed it very early around 8 PM. I also woke up at 6 AM and kept tossing and rolling and got turned on again. Whenever I closed my eyes I was just thinking about her.

I got dressed and left the house. The plan was grab a coffee somewhere near her place so I wouldn’t have to travel far once she messaged. I told myself if I get out in public, I will be fine. That will keep the intrusive thoughts away.

In reality I just couldn’t wait.

I was already getting desperate. I couldn’t stop thinking about her, about the key, about the weekend.

She finally messaged me at around AM.

Brigit: I’m getting ready for you. You can arrive anytime after nine. Door will be open as usual.

My heart started pounding the moment I read it. I still had almost a full hour. Time refused to move. I kept checking my phone, pacing, sitting down, standing up again. Every minute felt stretched. At exactly nine I was already outside her building. She buzzed me in without a word.

I stepped inside, closed the door quietly behind me, stripped everything off, and dropped to my knees in the middle of the living room.

She appeared a moment later from the bedroom. Black shiny miniskirt that barely covered anything, black high heels, and a completely transparent bra that left her nipples clearly visible. She stopped in front of me and looked down with a satisfied smile.

“Good boy. You remembered. Naked and on the floor the second you’re inside. It’s almost impressive how quickly a locked man learns his place.”

She clipped the leash to my collar and tugged me toward the bathroom.

“Come.”

Inside she unlocked the cage, set it aside, and cleaned me with warm water and soap. Her soapy hand wrapped around me and started stroking in slow, deliberate pulls.

I hardened instantly. She watched my face the whole time, completely in control.

Just as the first real wave of pleasure started building she took her hand away.

I stayed hard, throbbing, and to my surprise the edge kept creeping closer even without her touch. She had stopped at exactly the right moment. I had no idea how she judged it so precisely.

She waited until I had come back down a little, then forced the cage back on with the same firm, practised movements as before. Once it locked she dried me off, gave the leash a sharp tug, and nudged me down onto all fours.

“On your hands and knees.”

I dropped into position. She led me out of the bathroom and into the small room she used as an office. Her laptop was already open on the desk.

“My office called. I have about an hour of work that can’t wait. You’re coming with me.”

She pointed under the desk.

“Crawl under there. Sit.”

I obeyed. She pulled her chair in close, adjusted the height carefully, and sat down so that my face was only inches from the space between her thighs. The miniskirt had ridden up. Underneath she was wearing transparent panties; I could see everything.

She looked down at me between her legs, voice calm and strict.

“Change of plans. Don’t look so disappointed. I’ll properly torture you later, I promise. For now you get to sit there and stare at my pussy for the next hour while I work. Consider it a gentle reminder of exactly what you gave up all your freedom for.”

She rested one heeled foot lightly against the cage, applying just enough pressure to make sure I felt it, then turned her attention to the laptop.

“Not a sound unless I speak to you. Eyes up. You don’t get to look away.”

The way she said I didn’t get to look away hit me harder than I expected. My cock tried to swell instantly and pressed tight against the bars of the cage until it ached.

She went back to clicking and typing. Every now and then she glanced down between her legs, checking on me. Once or twice she reached down and casually stroked my hair before returning to her work, as if I were a pet she was only half paying attention to.

After what felt like much longer than an hour she suddenly shut the laptop with a sharp snap.

“Alright. I’m done.”

She stood up, grabbed the leash, and started walking toward the living room without waiting for me. The pull was aggressive. My hands were still cuffed behind my back, so I couldn’t steady myself properly and kept stumbling as I tried to keep up on my knees.

She dropped onto the couch, spread her legs wide, and tugged the leash until my face was between her thighs again. The transparent panties were still the only thing between us.

She looked down at me with a lazy, arrogant little smile.

“So… how does it feel, being locked in that little cage all this time?”

I swallowed.

“I’m already suffering. There’s this constant, slightly inconvenient pressure in my balls. It’s not painful exactly, just… always there.”

She gave a soft, mocking laugh and rested one heeled foot on my shoulder.

“Only slightly inconvenient? That’s cute. You’ve been locked for what, three days now? And you’re already complaining about a little pressure. Imagine how it’s going to feel after a full week. Or two.”

She tilted her head, clearly enjoying herself.

“Does it make you feel small? Knowing the same cock that used to fuck me whenever it wanted is now just sitting there useless, all packed up and denied?”

I didn’t answer right away. She gave the leash a short tug.

“I asked you a question.”

“…Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes, Mistress. It makes me feel small.”

She smiled wider, almost sweetly, and slowly ran one finger along the outside of her panties right in front of my face.

“Good. You’re starting to understand your place. A locked little slave who gets turned on just from being told he isn’t allowed to look away. Pathetic… and very entertaining for me.”

She kept looking down at me between her spread legs, one finger lazily tracing small circles over the thin fabric of her panties. Not really touching herself properly, just enough to make it clear she could if she wanted to.

“You do remember yesterday, don’t you?” she asked, voice light and almost pleasant. “You broke one of my rules. You asked to be unlocked. That earned you your first full week of chastity. Which means for the next seven days you have exactly zero chance of an orgasm.

Not a ruined one, not a ruined little dribble, nothing. Your cock stays locked and useless.”

I stayed quiet. She raised an eyebrow.

“I expect an answer when I speak to you.”

“…Yes, Mistress. I remember.”

“Good. Because you still look like you’re holding on to some leftover confidence from before. Like part of you still thinks this is temporary or that you’re somehow above it. You’re not. A small woman half your size has complete control of your cock, and you won’t do a single thing about it. You can’t even ask for a release. Say that.

I felt my face heat up and started sweating.

“A small woman half my size has complete control of my cock, and I won’t do a single thing about it. I can’t even ask for a release.”

She frowned slightly, clearly not satisfied.

“That was weak. Flat. You sound like you’re just repeating words. Try again, and this time show me you actually mean it.

I swallowed and forced myself to speak slower, my voice was shaking.

“A woman half my size locked my cock up and took every bit of control away from me. I used to be the one who decided when I got off. Now I can’t even ask for it without getting punished. I’m not allowed to touch it, I’m not allowed to beg for release, and for the next week I don’t get any orgasm at all. You own me completely and you can clearly keep me denied as long as you want.”

She tilted her head, still not fully pleased.

“Keep going. You’re finally starting to sound honest. Tell me more.”

I exhaled and continued, eyes still on hers.

“I keep thinking about how easily you did it. You got me to agree to every rule, one after another, even when I hated them. Now I’m kneeling here with my hands cuffed and my cock locked while you casually play with yourself over your panties and remind me I have no say. The pressure in my balls is already annoying and I know it’s only going to get worse. And the worst part is I still don’t want to leave. I want to stay here and let you keep doing this to me.”

A small, satisfied smile finally appeared on her face.

“There. That’s more like it. You’re learning. Keep that attitude.”

She shifted slightly on the couch, still tracing lazy circles over her panties.

“How does it feel knowing that the same girl whose virginity you took in high-school is now the one who decides if you ever get to come again?”

“…It feels humiliating, Mistress.”

“Of course it does. You’re a grown man kneeling between my legs with your cock locked in a little metal cage because I felt like it. You used to be the confident one, didn’t you? The one who kissed me on the first date without asking. The one who fucked me first. And now look at you. You can’t even get hard without my permission, and for the next week you won’t get any release at all.”

She tilted her head, studying my face like she was enjoying every small reaction.

“Does it bother you that I’m enjoying this so much? That I sat through an hour of work with your face between my thighs and spent most of it thinking about how completely I own your orgasms now?”

“…Yes, Mistress.”

“It should. I like watching you squirm while you try to stay polite. You’re trying so hard not to look desperate, but it’s written all over you. That little bit of pressure in your balls is only going to get worse. By day four or five you’ll be aching properly, and I’ll still be walking around in skirts like this, knowing you can’t do a single thing about it.”

She kept her finger moving in slow circles.

“Tell me something honest. When you woke up this morning and felt the cage, did you already regret agreeing to all those rules?”

“A big part of me did. I cannot stop thinking about, I want you so bad.”

She kept tracing those slow circles over her panties, watching my face.

“Good,” she said softly. “Get used to it. That feeling isn’t going away. I’m going to make sure of that.”

She leaned back a little, still looking down at me between her thighs.

“You remember how it used to be, don’t you? How wet I would get for you. I was so excited and wet to fuck you, you didn't even have to finger me. I used to take your cock and slide it into my pussy nice and slow, feeling every inch stretch me open. How I’d ride you until I was dripping down your balls. You’d grab my hips and thrust up into me while I came around you. It was so fucking hot. I used to love using you like that.”

She paused, letting the images hang in the air, and leaned forward to kiss me. First time we are together again.

“Too bad you can’t fuck me now that you’re locked. That cock of yours is stuck in its little cage, all swollen and useless. No more sliding into me. No more feeling how tight and wet I get. Just metal and denial.”

My breathing had gotten heavier. She noticed and her smile widened.

“Would you like to be unlocked and fuck me again? If you ask to be unlocked I might let you fuck me for the old times sake”

The question was asked lightly, almost casually, but I felt the trap immediately.

I looked up at her carefully.

“Are you trying to get me to extend my sentence with another week?”

She burst out laughing. When she finally caught her breath she looked down at me with pure amusement.

“Are you asking for me to extend your chastity sentence with another week?”

“No,” I said quickly. “That’s not what I said. You’re laying a trap for me.”

She laughed again, softer this time, and slowly ran her finger up and down over her panties.

“I just love messing with you. Look how carefully you’re choosing your words now. How tense you got the second I offered to unlock you. It’s cute. You’re already so scared of another week that you won’t even let yourself want it out loud.”

She tilted her head, clearly enjoying every second.

“But I noticed you didn’t actually say no to the fucking part. You only protected yourself from the extra time. That tells me everything. You’re still desperate to be inside me again, even while you’re locked and denied. Even while you know the chances are almost zero.”

I stayed quiet, jaw tight. She kept going, voice light and relentless.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to admit it if it makes you uncomfortable. I already know. I can see it in the way you look at my pussy. You want it. You want to feel me again. And the fact that you can’t is eating at you.”

She shifted on the couch, spreading her legs a fraction wider so I had an even clearer view through the transparent fabric.

“Tell me the truth. When I described sliding your cock into my wet pussy just now… how hard did you get in that cage?”

I swallowed.

“…Very hard, Mistress.”

“Did it ache?”

“Yes.”

“Did you wish, even for a second, that I would actually unlock you and let you fuck me right here on this couch?”

I hesitated. She gave the leash a short, warning tug.

“Honesty. Now.”

“…Yes, Mistress. I wished it.”

She smiled, slow and satisfied.

She stood up without another word and gave the leash a sharp, continuous pull. I stumbled after her on my knees, hands still cuffed behind my back, as she led me straight into the bedroom. The door clicked shut behind us.

“I have a surprise for you, but you’re getting blindfolded until I finish setting you up. Don’t worry I won’t leave you like this. I want you to watch me, and I want to see your face while I do it.”

A soft piece of fabric slid over my eyes and tightened. Everything went dark. I felt her hands on the cuffs. They came off one wrist, then the other. For a brief second I thought I might get to stretch, but she immediately guided my right arm up and outward. Cold metal clicked around my wrist and I heard the chain rattle against the bed frame. The same happened to my left wrist. Then my ankles were pulled wide and locked in place the same way. The collar around my neck was unclipped from the leash and a new, shorter chain was fastened from it to the headboard, forcing my head back against the pillow.

I thought that was the end of it.

It wasn’t.

New straps went around my elbows, pulling them tight to the mattress so I couldn’t bend my arms at all. The same treatment was given to my knees. Leather cuffs locked down so my legs were completely immobilized. Everything was tightened until I could barely shift at all. I was spread-eagled and locked down far more thoroughly than necessary.

I felt her hands at my hips. Something was fastened there, once, twice, three times straps cinching tight around my waist and upper thighs. Then her fingers worked at the chastity cage itself. Two separate adjustments, each one making the metal sit differently against me. I couldn’t tell what she was doing.

The blindfold came off suddenly.

She was standing beside the bed, still in the shiny miniskirt and transparent bra, looking down at me with a cold little smile.

“How do you like what you see?”

I tried to lift my head. The collar chain stopped me after only a couple of centimetres. I could just make out a thinner strap that now ran over the top of the cage, shaped almost like a mock cock sitting on top of the real one. She strapped a dildo above my cock cage.

Something else glinted lower down — a chain attached to the base of the cage, running straight down and locked to the foot of the bed. Any attempt to lift or roll my hips would yank the entire cage downward. Finally, something dark and bulky was wrapped tightly around the cage itself.

“I can’t really see” I said.

She reached over, unclipped the neck chain for a few seconds so I could raise my head properly, then locked it back again once I’d looked.

“Better?”

I stared. The chain to the footboard was real. The extra strap over the cage was real. And the device wrapped around the metal was exactly what it looked like.

“…Is that a vibrator?”

She laughed short and sharp.

“No, silly. That’s a shock device.”

She pressed the remote.

White-hot electricity slammed through the cage and into my cock and balls. My whole body jerked hard against the restraints; a choked sound tore out of my throat. It lasted less than a second but left me gasping and twitching.

She watched my face the entire time, biting into her lips.

“Don’t worry. I won’t use it again unless you’re about to cum. It’s just in case. But you need to tell me in time if you feel close. I doubt you’ll manage to cum in that cage on only your third day… but I want to be the most cruel bitch I can be today. I don't want any accidents.”

She said it while her free hand slid down between her own legs, rubbing slowly over the transparent panties. She was already getting visibly wetter.

“You see?” she continued, voice soft. “We can still fuck. Or rather I can still fuck. You’re not going to feel anything worth feeling.”

She stepped out of the panties, climbed onto the bed, and swung one leg over my hips. In her hand was a realistic dildo or strap on over my cock cage. She sank onto it in one slow, deliberate motion.

I felt the pressure of her weight, the warmth of her thighs, the wetness that immediately coated the outside of the cage, but nothing else. No friction on my cock. No real stimulation. Just the helpless knowledge that she was using the space where my cock should have been.

Slow at first, rolling her hips so the dildo slid in and out of her while the base rubbed and bumped against the cage. Each downward thrust pulled on the chain and made the shock band shift against my skin. She braced one hand on my chest and used the other to wrap around my throat, not hard enough to cut off air completely, but firm enough that I felt every bit of her control.

“Look at you,” she whispered, fucking herself on the toy with steady, deliberate strokes. “Completely tied down. Cock locked. Shock collar on your worthless little cage. And I’m using you like a fucktoy. How does it feel knowing I’m getting off on top of you and you can’t feel a single thing?”

I couldn’t answer properly with her hand on my throat. She squeezed a little tighter and slapped me across the face with her other hand sharp.

“I asked you a question.”

“…It feels humiliating, Mistress,”

“Good.”

She rode harder, the wet sounds of her pussy around the dildo filling the room. Every few thrusts she slapped me again once on the cheek, once harder across the mouth while her grip on my throat kept me pinned and gasping.

“I love taking your pleasure away,” she said, voice starting to break with her own arousal. “I love that you’re hard and aching under that metal and there’s nothing you can do. I love that I can fuck myself on top of you, choke you, slap you, and you’ll still just lie there and take it because I own your cock now.”

She ground down hard, circling her hips so the base of the dildo mashed against the cage and the chain stayed taut. Her breathing turned ragged. She slapped me again, then wrapped both hands around my throat and squeezed while she fucked herself faster, chasing her orgasm without any concern for me.

“You’re just a locked, helpless thing under me,” she hissed. “My toy. My frustrated little slave. And I’m going to come all over this cage while you stay denied.”

Her thighs started shaking. She forced herself down as deep as she could, the dildo buried inside her and the whole weight of her body pressing onto my locked cock.

A long, broken moan tore out of her as she came, pussy clenching hard around the toy, wetness dripping onto the metal of the cage and the shock band.

She kept grinding through it, choking me the entire time, until the last waves faded. Only then did she loosen her hands and sit back, still seated on top of me, looking down at my red face and the wet cage between us with pure, cruel satisfaction.

“See?” she said softly, still catching her breath. “We can still fuck. You just don’t get to feel any of it.”

She stayed on top of me for a little while longer, still breathing hard, then slowly climbed off and lay down beside me on the bed. One arm rested loosely across my chest. For a moment it almost felt normal.

“So,” she said casually, as if she hadn’t just fucked herself on a dildo over my locked cock, “what did you actually do after school? We never really talked about the years in between.”

I turned my head toward her. She looked relaxed.

She listened, nodding, asking small questions. We went through the years chronologically — jobs, moving cities, short relationships, trips. She told me about the year she spent in Berlin, the time she almost moved to Spain, the boring office job she quit after eight months. It lasted maybe an hour. The whole time my cock kept trying to swell against the cage, softening a little when the conversation pulled me in, then thickening again whenever she shifted and her bare thigh brushed mine.

Suddenly she asked.

“Do you want some coffee?”

“Yeah. Please.”

She unclipped the remaining restraints one by one until only the collar and the cage were left. The shock band stayed on.

“You can walk with me to the kitchen. Sit with me.”

I followed her. She still hadn’t put panties back on. The shiny black miniskirt barely covered anything; every step showed the full curve of her ass and the bare lips of her pussy. The transparent bra did nothing to hide her nipples. She moved around the kitchen like it was the most normal thing in the world.

We sat at the small table with coffee. I was half-hard and dripping inside the cage almost the entire time. A thin string of precum had already escaped and was slowly making its way down the metal. She glanced at it once or twice, then simply continued talking about the places we had both travelled after school, her hand occasionally resting on my thigh — high enough to be deliberate, but never quite touching the cage.

It was almost midday and we still hadn’t eaten. She stood up, made scrambled eggs, and set a plate in front of each of us. We ate while still talking. When she finished she pushed her plate toward me.

“You can clean up.”

I washed the dishes while she watched from the doorway, still half-naked. When I was done she walked into the living room and stretched out on the couch on her stomach, the miniskirt riding up so most of her ass was completely exposed.

“Kneel down and kiss it. Slowly.”

I knelt on the floor and pressed my lips to the soft skin of her ass, kissing along the curve the way she asked. She didn’t move, just let me continue for a few minutes while she scrolled on her phone. My cock was fully straining against the cage again. I couldn’t calm down. Even when she finally told me I could sit up, she stayed exactly as she was almost naked, completely unbothered.

After ten or fifteen minutes of quiet conversation on the couch she suddenly shifted. She turned, spread her legs, and rested them across my lap so that her bare pussy was right there in front of me, only a short distance from the locked cage. Her panties were still in the bedroom, nothing blocked the view.

I lost my train of thought mid-sentence.

She looked at me with mild, fake confusion.

“Why did you stop talking?”

“I… sorry.”

“Is something wrong?”

I tried to pick up the conversation again, but my eyes kept dropping. She noticed and a small, playful smile appeared.

“Is my pussy distracting you?”

“…A little.”

“Only a little? You’re staring at it like you’ve never seen one before. We’re literally just talking and you can’t even finish a sentence.”

I forced myself to look at her face.

“It’s hard not to notice when it’s right there.”

“Then notice it and keep talking. You’re the one who wanted to spend the weekend together. Don’t go quiet on me every time I open my legs.”

I managed to continue for a while. We actually got back into a normal conversation about old classmates and stupid decisions we had made in our early twenties. My cock softened slightly. She let it happen.

Then, without warning, she leaned in and kissed me.

It started slow, almost affectionate. The moment her tongue touched mine I hardened fully again, the cage becoming tight and uncomfortable within seconds. She kept kissing me, one hand sliding down until her fingers wrapped around the metal of the cage and held it firmly.

She pulled back just enough to speak, lips still close to mine, hand still gripping the cage.

“Continue what you were saying.”

I tried. The sentence came out broken. She gave the cage a small, deliberate squeeze and waited, eyes on mine, clearly enjoying how easily she can turn me on.

I kissed her back harder, more eagerly. My tongue met hers and I could feel myself swelling tight against the bars. After a minute she slid her hand down, wrapped her fingers around the cage, and started stroking me through the metal. The limited friction was intense precisely because it was incomplete. Every movement made me throb harder.

She kept it up for a few minutes, watching my face the whole time, then suddenly stopped and took her hand away.

“Alright. That was enough now.”

I made a small sound of protest and tried to push my hips forward, chasing the feeling. She immediately gripped the cage harder, not stroking, just holding it still.

“I said that’s enough.”

Her voice dropped into something colder.

“What do you think you’re doing? Every single second of pleasure you receive exists only for my enjoyment exactly the same way your frustration and suffering do. It does not matter how good it feels to you, how close you are to the edge, or how much you’re already trembling. Those things are irrelevant. I decide when you get any stimulation at all, and I decide the exact moment it ends.

Don’t you dare thrust your hips into my hand again. Don’t you dare reach for me or try to keep my fingers on you after I’ve stopped. That is not your place. You take what I give you, for as long as I choose to give it, and the second I remove my hand you stop. Completely. No chasing, no pushing, no trying to steal more than I allowed.

Your cock does not get to demand anything. You do not get to decide that a few minutes wasn’t enough. The privilege of even limited attention through the cage is mine to grant and mine to revoke. When I say it’s over, it is over.”

I opened my mouth. She cut me off instantly.

“You need to learn to be satisfied with the little pleasure I choose to give you. A locked chastity slave does not get to chase. He does not get to ask for longer. He does not get to act entitled to more just because his cock is throbbing. I decide the beginning, the intensity, and the end. You accept whatever I give and you stop the second I stop. Clear?”

I nodded, still breathing hard.

“I want to hear you explain it. In your own words. Show me you actually understand.”

“It means any attention you give me is only what you decide to allow. You have full authority over all my pleasure or denial. My sexual life is purely about pleasing you and not my selfish desires."

She studied my face for a moment, then gave a short, cold nod.

“Acceptable. Don’t make me repeat myself on this again. The next time you try to chase after I stop, you won’t like the consequences.”

She released the cage and leaned back as if the whole thing had been a minor interruption. The conversation continued.

We kept talking for a while after that, the conversation oddly normal on the surface. Eventually she asked if I would like to watch an episode of a show that's being released today on one of the streaming services.

I said "Sure, why not."

She went into the bedroom and came back with an armful of restraints, cuffs, straps, a short chain. Without much discussion she secured me to the couch wrists cuffed and clipped to the sides, ankles fastened, a strap across my hips so I couldn’t lift them. The collar was attached to the back of the couch with just enough length that I could rest my head but not lean forward.

“Shut up for the next forty-five minutes.Not a word.”

She sat down beside me, pressed play, and settled in. For the first few minutes her hand simply rested on my thigh. Then it drifted higher. She started playing with the cage light tugs, slow turns, pressing the metal against me, letting her fingers brush the exposed skin at the base. She never looked at me while she did it. Her eyes stayed on the screen.

Every time I started to soften even slightly she noticed and resumed the teasing. When I got fully hard and dripping she would ease off just enough for the intensity to drop, wait until I began to calm, then start again. She never let me settle. The whole episode became a long, controlled edge with no real peak and no relief.

At one point I turned my head to look at her. She didn’t even pause the show.

“Don’t even think about it,” she said, voice quiet and rude. “Whatever you want to ask, I’ll punish you if you open your mouth.”

I stayed silent. The frustration kept climbing. My cock felt swollen and trapped, the pressure in my balls deeper than before. After a while I couldn’t stay still small shakes ran through my legs, I pulled uselessly against the cuffs, my breathing turned uneven. I felt completely unsettled, like my body was trying to escape something it couldn’t.

She finally glanced over, still half-watching the screen, and reached up to stroke my hair with mock gentleness.

“Oh… isn’t it cute how frustrated you are?”

The episode ended and set the remote down, and looked at me properly for the first time in forty-five minutes.

“Okay. Now you can speak.”

I opened my mouth, then closed it again. The words sat heavy in my throat. I was so hard it hurt, the cage felt too small, and the pressure in my balls had gone from annoying to constant and deep. Every part of me wanted to say how desperate I was, how I couldn’t take another minute of this teasing, how I needed some kind of relief. But I already knew what would happen if I crossed that line.

If I complain, she’ll just enjoy it more and probably add time. If I stay silent, nothing changes either. There’s no good move.

I forced myself to speak carefully, choosing every word.

“Mistress… I’m really struggling right now. The teasing during the episode… it’s left me extremely frustrated. I feel like I’m going to explode. I know I can’t ask for anything, and I’m not asking. I just… I needed to say how intense it is.”

She looked at me for a long moment, the faint amusement that had been on her face completely gone.

What replaced it was colder, sharper, and clearly irritated.

“I’m going to say this once, and you are going to listen carefully.”

Her voice was unmistakably pissed.

“I do whatever I enjoy, whenever I want, for as long as I want. If I feel like sitting next to you and casually caressing your locked cage for hours while I watch a show, I will do exactly that. If I decide I want to bring you to the edge over and over again inside that cage until you’re shaking and dripping and half out of your mind, I will do that too. If one day I decide to strap vibrators to the cage, turn them on, and leave you there until you’re convulsing and forced to cum inside the metal with no real pleasure, I can do that as well. You have no say. You do not get to talk back. You do not get to complain. You do not get to negotiate the intensity or the duration of anything I choose to do to you.”

She leaned in slightly, eyes locked on mine.

“You are allowed to tell me how you feel. You can say you’re desperate. You can say the pressure is intense. You can even say you feel like you’re going to explode, as long as it stays pure information with zero request and zero expectation attached to it. The moment it starts sounding like you want me to do something about it, the moment there’s even a hint that you think I should ease up or give you relief, you have crossed the line. I am not here to manage your frustration for your comfort. I am here to create it and enjoy it.”

Her finger tapped once against the cage, deliberate and dismissive.

“I am not going to sit here every time you get worked up and listen to a speech about how horny you are, how desperate you are, how you can’t take it anymore. Good. That is exactly the state I want you in. Do you think my hand ended up on your cage by accident during that episode? Do you think I didn’t notice every time you started to soften and deliberately started again? I was keeping you desperate on purpose. That was the entire point. Your suffering is not an unfortunate side effect. It is the main event for me.”

She sat back, still watching me with open disapproval.

“This wasn’t a full, open complaint, I’ll give you that much. But I have already been far too lenient with you. You’re new, and I’ve been making allowances. That ends now. You need to learn that there are real consequences when you even drift close to the line. So here is your punishment, and it is a light one because you are still a newbie who clearly does not yet understand his place.”

She counted it off on her fingers.

“First: the edging during your daily cleaning is cancelled for tonight and for tomorrow. You will be unlocked, cleaned, and locked again with no stimulation at all.

Second: I am adding one extra day to your current chastity sentence. You now have 5 days instead of 4 left of your 1 week sentence. That is the price of making me sit here and listen to you edge toward a complaint while you’re already locked and denied.”

Her tone stayed cold and absolute.

“This is not me being cruel for no reason. This is me teaching you. Every time you forget that your desperation exists for my entertainment and not as a problem I am expected to solve, the cost will go up. Next time it will not be this gentle.”

She let the silence hang for a few seconds, then spoke again, quieter but no less strict.

“Now. Thank me for keeping you desperately denied.”

I swallowed.

“Thank you, Mistress, for keeping me desperately denied.”

“Thank me for the punishment.”

“Thank you, Mistress, for the punishment.”

A small, sharp smile appeared on her face. She tilted her head, clearly about to enjoy herself.

“You know what would be even better than expressing your gratitude? Asking me for a harsher and longer punishment. That would really prove you’ve learned your place. Go on, ask for it.”

I felt my face change. She saw it immediately and burst out laughing, the strict expression breaking for a moment into pure amusement.

“Relax. I’m just messing with you. The 5 days and the cancelled edging are enough for now. Don’t look so terrified.”

She stretched and stood up from the couch.

“Go take a shower. Wait for me naked in the bathroom.”

I did as I was told. While the water ran over me I could hear her moving around in the bedroom. When I finished I stayed standing on the mat, dripping, completely naked except for the cage.

A few minutes later she walked in. She had already laid out her clothes on the bed: a short red miniskirt, a black top that looked very revealing, stockings, underwear and a matching bra. She stepped into the bathroom with me still wearing the transparent bra and the shiny black miniskirt from earlier.

“Take the rest off me and kneel.”

I carefully removed the bra and the miniskirt, then dropped to my knees on the wet tiles. She picked up the soap and started washing herself — shoulders, arms, stomach, thighs, calves, everywhere except her breasts, pussy and ass. When she finished the rest of her body she looked down at me.

“Soap these with your hands. Thoroughly. Take your time.”

I worked the soap over her breasts first, slow circular motions, feeling her nipples harden under my palms.

Then I moved lower, spreading the lather across her ass, kneading gently as instructed. Finally I soaped her pussy, careful but extensive, sliding my fingers between her lips and over her clit exactly as long as she allowed. She watched me the entire time without speaking.

When she was satisfied she rinsed off and pointed to the floor again.

“Kneel and wait.”

I stayed on my knees while she stepped out, dried herself, and began her makeup at the mirror. After a moment she glanced at me in the reflection.

“I’ve been watching some videos that really turned me on. The chastity slave has to lick his Mistress’s ass the whole time she’s doing her makeup. I thought it would be fun to try. Go ahead. Make sure you don’t touch my pussy at all.”

To be continued...

​

This story is mainly about my ex, so I will begin with a short backstory.

I have met Brigit at a party, back in high-school around 10 years ago. I think I was around 17. She was 1 year younger than me 16. We had a little chat upstairs where was more quiet. I remember that I went there to her, initiated a conversation, made her laugh. I was a little tipsy, very confident. My friends were leaving, so I told her that I would love to continue but I have to go.

The next day I messaged her on Facebook. I felt immediately that she's into me. This made me feel very confident at the time. I asked her out during the week. I still remember that I had no idea that I accidentally asked her out for valentines day. I really had no idea. I have been with a few girls by this time. I lost my virginity at 15. I slept with a few girls from school, so I was not shy anymore around girls. I had a little rule for myself. If I like someone on the first date, at the end I need to kiss her. She was unbelievably suprised. Said okay, talk to you later.

She later messaged me and apologised for being awkward as she was not expecting it. From this point we were talking all the time, on Facebook, text messages in school. It came up that she hasn't been with anybody yet and she's still a virgin. She also said that her boyfriends never initiated it and she was a bit shy, but probably would have let them. My friends were organising a party in the weekend and asked her if she wants to come with me and sleep at my place afterwards. She immediately said yes, and mentioned that she can't wait and wishes the party would be tomorrow. I told her that we don't need a party to go to my place. If you can't wait just come to my place tomorrow after school.

This was the first time she has been with anybody and from this point we were pretty much in a relationship. We went everywhere together and I honestly didn't take her too seriously in the beginning but after about a month I really started developing some feelings for her. She was very open minded, we talked about our fantasies, she dressed up for me a secretary in miniskirt and glasses.

After 3 - 4 months she suddenly decided to break up with me. We were getting along well and I was not expecting it at all. At the time I was heartbroken. She didn't give any explanation, just kept trying to avoid me.

The story continues 10 years later.

I was always a little fixated on her since. I had fantasises about her but we never talked again for a long time.

We ran into each other at a bar, we were both with our friend groups. I didn't want to be around her whatever. My mind screamed inside to run. We had a very strange interaction too.

Were out with my friends around morning. We had fun a long drunk night out. I decided to message her on Facebook. Great idea, get hammered and send messages to your ex 4 AM. What can go wrong?

I gave her a piece of my mind. Told her that she broke my heart and ghosted me, which felt awful at the time.

I slept until 12 next day and woke up, reading through her messages. She apologised for being immature at the time and didn't think that will cause me so much pain. She also said that she was not interested in a relationship and wanted to experiment, sleep around with other man. Her last message was trust me, was better for you to not be around me. I was too wild at a younger age and now if you would know me, couldn't handle me.

I thought the next day, what a stupid and pointless idea was to message her. I moved on had something to eat, didn't think much about her message than read it again late afternoon.

- I wrote back and asked, couldn't handle you. What do you mean?

- Let's just say what I'm into is not traditional.

- Not traditional in what way?

The typing indicator appeared, vanished, came back, vanished again. Almost a full hour passed before I asked again.

You brought it up. You said I couldn’t handle you. I’m asking what that means.

Another long silence.

- Drop it. Why do you always push? Some things are better left alone.

- Just tell me.

The indicator flickered on and off several times before the reply finally came.

- Fine. But I’m only saying this once, and I already regret it.

- I’m listening.

- I enjoy locking men in chastity. I take their pleasure away until they become desperate. I keep them unbearably horny for as long as I want, tease them constantly, deny them over and over, and I enjoy every second of it. I get off on being an unfair, cruel, controlling bitch.

(Around 5 minutes passed and she deleted, this message before started typing again.)

- I shouldn’t have told you any of that. Don’t message me about this again. I only answered because you wouldn’t stop asking. That is the last you’ll get from me on the subject.

I was speechless staring into the void in front of me 15 minutes. I knew what she was talking about. I have seen porn like that before. I just decided to ignore what she asked. I thought who cares, I can ask whatever I want, don't care and doesn't matter if I piss her off. Maybe I would even enjoy that a bit.

- So basically you turned into a dominatrix?

- I already told you more than I wanted to. Stop.

- Come on. You lock them, tease them, deny them… how long do you usually keep them locked?

I’m not answering that. I already said too much and I regret every word of it. Drop it.

You said you enjoy being an unfair, cruel, controlling bitch. How unfair are we talking? Do you ever let them cum at all?

How do you get off by this? What’s in it for you?

- I said I don’t want to talk about this and you’re still firing questions at me like I owe you answers. I don’t.

- You can’t just drop something like that and expect me to shut up.

- I’m not elaborating further. Every message you send is making me more irritated. I told you this was the last you’d get from me and you completely ignored that.

Stop asking. I’m serious. You’re crossing a line and you’re doing it on purpose. I already feel stupid for telling you anything in the first place.

- Do you ever unlock them just to tease them more and lock them again straight away?

- You’re still going. Unbelievable. I am not answering that. I am not answering anything else. Quit messaging me about this right now.

- You’re being pushy, disrespectful of the boundary I already set, and it’s pissing me off.

I’m properly fed up with you now. You have ignored every single time I told you to stop, kept pushing, kept asking, kept digging for more details like I somehow owe you a full explanation of my private life. I already said more than I ever wanted to say to you and you still wouldn’t leave it alone. So fine. You want to keep going this badly? Do you actually want to meet me and try it for yourself, or are you just going to keep sitting there sending me questions all night?

There was silence for several minutes after her last message. I didn't know what to say. Now she wants to do what with me? I was getting slightly turned on. She was still very attractive and would have loved to sleep with her but this is not quite what I'm looking for. Then her typing indicator appeared again.

Oh, so now you go quiet? After bombarding me with question after question, ignoring every time I told you to stop, pushing and pushing until I finally snapped, suddenly you’ve got nothing to say? Typical. You were so desperate for details when it was safe behind a screen, and the second it gets real you disappear. I should have known. I was right from the very start, you couldn’t handle me. Pathetic. I already regret telling you anything.

- What’s in it for me? Sounds like I wouldn't get much out of this.

She didn’t reply with text at first. Instead a photo came through: her standing in front of a mirror in sheer black dominatrix lingerie — transparent lace bodysuit, straps, garter belt, the outline of her body clearly visible, one hand resting on her hip, the other holding a small metal key between two fingers. Her expression was cold, almost bored, looking straight at the camera.

- You can come over and find out. But you only have five minutes to decide. After that the offer is gone and you don’t get another chance. Clock’s ticking.

- What's your address?

- Here is my address... and phone number... call me when you are in front.

I figured what is the worst that can happen, we will role-play a bit and than I go home.

I ordered a taxi. The whole ride I kept replaying her messages and that photo. By the time the car stopped in front of her building my pulse was up and I still wasn’t sure what I was walking into.

I stood on the pavement, took a breath, and called the number.

She picked up after two rings.

“You’re here?”

“Yeah. Outside.”

“Third floor. Door’s unlocked. Come in.”

She hung up.

I climbed the stairs, found the door and pushed it open. The flat was quiet. Soft light from a single lamp.

She was standing in the living room, fully dressed. Black skinny jeans, a tight black shirt that showed a bit of cleavage and clung to her in a way that was clearly deliberate, but nothing like the lingerie from the photo. No straps, no sheer fabric, no key on display. Just her, looking calm and slightly amused at the expression on my face.

She closed the distance a little.

“If you’re willing to serve me, you’ll need to prove that you’re obedient first. No arguing. No asking questions. You do what I say.”

She pointed at the floor in front of her.

“Pull your cock out and stand there.”

I hesitated only a second, then did it. The air felt cold against my skin. She looked down at me for a moment, then lowered herself to her knees without another word.

Her mouth was warm and wet and she started giving me oral. She didn’t rush. She sucked slowly, deeply, using her tongue, bringing me up fast. Just when I felt the first real surge of orgasm building she pulled off completely and sat back on her heels.

“Do you like that?”

I nodded, breathing harder.

She leaned in again, licked the precum that had started to drool from the tip, then took me back into her mouth. This time I reached the edge even sooner. She stopped again the moment she felt me tense.

She repeated it three more times. Each time she brought me right to the brink and then simply stopped, watching my face, occasionally licking away whatever had leaked out. By the fifth time my legs were shaking and I was leaking steadily.

Finally she stood up.

“Enough. Stay exactly where you are until you calm down.”

I stood there, cock still out, aching, wet. It took a long time. Eventually I softened almost completely, though not fully. That was when she reached into a drawer, pulled out a metal chastity cage, and without warning forced it onto me. The ring went behind my balls, the cage locked over my cock while it was still slightly swollen. The click of the padlock. She hung the key around her own neck.

Only then did she start undressing. Jeans first, then the shirt, then everything else until she was naked. She sat back on the edge of the sofa, spread her legs, and looked at me.

“Lick.”

I got on my knees between her thighs. She was already very wet. The moment my tongue touched her she let out a low breath.

“I still can’t believe you actually agreed to this,” she said above me. “You got me so wet.”

She came quickly the first time, thighs tightening around my head. She barely gave me a moment before she pulled me back in and came again, even faster, with a short sharp sound.

Then she pushed me away hard with one leg, almost kicking me back and started screaming at me.

“Get out.”

I stared at her, still on my knees, the cage heavy between my legs.

“Take this off.”

She looked at me with pure cold amusement.

“No chance. Get out.”

I stared at her, still on my knees, the cage already feeling heavier than it should.

“I don’t believe you’re kicking me out like this.”

She tilted her head, almost smiling.

“The fun part is just about to begin. You’ll hear more from me tomorrow. Now get out.”

I stood up, pulled my jeans back on over the cage, grabbed my jacket and left without another word. The walk to the street and the taxi ride home felt endless. I was so horny it was almost painful, but the metal kept me soft no matter how much I tried. Every shift of my legs reminded me it was there. I had never been locked before. I kept reaching down out of habit, only to feel cold steel instead of skin. Sleep barely came. Every time I started to drift off I woke up again, half hard against the cage and getting nowhere.

The next morning my phone lit up and she messaged me.

- Still curious about how I get off by keeping a man locked?

- Haha, you think you are funny.

- Yes. Haha. It is funny, because I was the one getting off, not you. Would be even funnier if i wouldn't need to explain you the joke.

-You’re seriously leaving me locked after one night?

- Why wouldn’t I? You walked into my flat, followed every order, and then expected me to unlock you just because you asked nicely? That’s adorable.

I will give you the full experience, so you won’t have to ask more stupid questions.

If you want to ever get out of that cage you obey me, slave.

- This is still a joke, right?

- Keep telling yourself that while you’re sitting there soft and frustrated. It’s entertaining.

- You’re really not going to unlock me today?

- Why would I? Watching you squirm through text is already better than most of the nights I’ve had recently.

- At least give me a time frame.

- Time frames are for people who get to decide things. You don’t. That’s the whole point.

- You’re enjoying this way too much.

- Of course I am. I told you upfront and you kept ignoring every boundary I set, and now you’re locked and can’t do a single thing about it.

- Fine. What do you want from me then?

- For now nothing, I am satisfied. You eagerly wait until I want to use you again. Until then shut up and enjoy the suffering. Better get used to it. Now stop messaging me. Will let you know when I want something from you.

I didn't message her, after this she told me that she will.

In the afternoon she messaged me.

- So… how was the blowjob I gave you last night?

Just answer. Did you feel the urge to burst into my mouth every time I stopped?

- Yes. Obviously. And now you’re just making me more horny by bringing it up.

- Good. That was the point.

Did you like seeing me naked again and licking me until I had an orgasm.

- I counted two orgasms.

- You were surprisingly obedient once you were on your knees. I almost expected you to argue more.

- I still can’t believe you locked me and kicked me out like that.

So you’re open to meeting again?

- I’m open to the idea of using you again. There’s a difference.

Think about it carefully before you answer. Last night was just a first taste. If you come back, I’m not going to be nicer.

- Alright… then what would a second meeting actually involve?

- Oh, look at you. Already so eager to come back and serve me again. You can’t stop thinking about it, can you?

I’m just trying to understand what I’m walking into.

- No, you’re trying to negotiate while you’re still locked and frustrated. That’s adorable. You’re sitting there aching, remembering my mouth, remembering how wet I got when you licked me, and now you want details like you somehow have a say.

- I didn’t say that.

You didn’t have to. It’s written all over every message.

Tell me the truth, how many times today did you reach down only to feel metal and remember you can’t do a single thing without my permission?

- …Too many.

- Exactly. You’re coming over after work. I’ve already made plans for you. You don’t get to ask what they are. You don’t get to bargain. You show up when I tell you to, you do what I say, and you stay locked for as long as I decide.

Clear?

- And if I say no?

- Then stay home, locked, and I will ask again in a week...

Be here after work. Don’t be late.

I showed up just after five. The door was unlocked again. I stepped inside and closed it behind me.

She was standing in the living room in black jeans and a fitted top. Without warning she walked up and slapped me hard across the face.

“Kneel.”

I stayed on my feet a second too long. She slapped me again.

“When it’s just the two of us you stay naked. Nothing but the cage. On your knees. You’re not my equal here. You’re my slave, my sex toy. I use you for my pleasure. Strip. Now.”

I stripped and knelt. She collared me, clipped the leash on, and led me to the bathroom. She explained that from now on if unlocked only for cleaning, no moving, no speaking unless I was about to cum. In that case I need to say "PLEASE!" before getting too close. I stood frozen while she cleaned me, then she locked the cage back on tighter and dragged me into the living room. Ankles cuffed behind me, wrists locked to them. Folded and helpless.

She crouched in front of me with that playful smile.

“I’ve got ten new sets from Shein. Cheap, but they look good. I’m going to put them on one by one. Each time I come out, you agree to a new rule and kiss my ass. You can still walk away before the last one. I’ll unlock you and this ends, no more of me, no more of this. Or you stay and become my slave for real. Once you stay past the last rule, there’s no taking it back.”

She disappeared into the bedroom.

A few minutes later she came out in a short black babydoll, thin enough to see through. She stood over me and gave the cage a slow squeeze.

“Rule one. Full orgasms almost never happen. Most of the time when I let you out it’s only to make you more frustrated. Agree?”

I shook my head immediately.

“No. That’s too far. I’m not agreeing to almost never coming. That’s way too extreme for me.”

She kept her hand on the cage, rubbing slowly, then turned and pressed her ass against my face, grinding lightly.

“You’re already locked. You’re already on your knees in cuffs. You can still leave right now if you want. But if you stay, I’ll make it worth it. I’ll be naked or in lingerie around you a lot. I have to unlock you almost every day for cleaning anyway, and for the first month I’ll edge you every single time. And you’ll get a real chance to cum once a week if you behave. That’s more than fair. Kiss, or go home.”

I stayed silent, breathing hard against her. She kept grinding slowly, waiting. Finally I leaned in and kissed her ass, still clearly unhappy about it. She let out a soft breath and touched herself.

“Good. That already got me wet.”

She left and came back in a red lace bodysuit, open between the legs. She rubbed her pussy slowly over my mouth while she spoke.

“Rule two. I don’t care about your pleasure. If you get to cum it will usually be ruined — just to empty you. Agree?”

I pulled my head back as much as the cuffs allowed.

“Ruined most of the time is still rough. So you give me a chance to cum every week, but you’ll probably ruin them all. That isn’t fair. I’d be giving up so much for almost nothing.”

She didn’t get angry. She just kept rubbing herself slowly across my mouth, voice calm and almost gentle.

“That’s exactly how it works. Orgasms aren’t for slaves. You need to stay horny and desperate if you’re going to serve me properly. A locked, aching slave who can’t stop thinking about my body is useful. A satisfied man who just came is useless to me. I’m not going to pretend otherwise.”

She shifted, pressing her wetness more firmly against my lips.

“But I already told you I’ll make it worthwhile. You’ll get to kiss this pussy whenever I feel like it. You’ll get to rub that cock against my ass, against my thighs, against my nipples. You’ll spend hours with me naked or in lingerie, teased until you can’t think straight. Or you can leave right now, go home, jerk off in two minutes, and never see me like this again. Your choice. But stop pretending this is a negotiation between equals. It isn’t.”

I stayed quiet, trying to find another argument. She didn’t rush me. She just kept slowly grinding, letting me feel how wet she already was. The silence stretched. My breathing got heavier. She was still looking angry about it, I pulled my head away and said.

"Can you please turn around so I can kiss you ass?"

She let out a longer breath and touched herself more openly.

“There. That wasn’t so hard.”

She disappeared again and came back in a tiny white skirt and matching crop top that left her midriff and underboob bare. She pulled my head between her legs and spoke while rubbing herself lightly against my mouth.

“Rule three. Edges are only to make you suffer more. The more desperate you get, the better. Agree?”

“You’re just trying to break me on purpose.”

“Yes. And you’re still here. Kiss or leave.”

I hesitated, then kissed her ass with clear reluctance. She hummed quietly and kept touching herself.

Next she came out in a tight black mini dress that stopped just under her ass. She turned, pressed her ass against my face, and reached back to play with the cage.

“Rule four. You will never cum without my explicit permission. Accidental orgasms reset your sentence completely. Agree?”

“That’s harsh.”

“It’s the rule. You already accepted worse. Kiss.”

I argued less this time and eventually gave in.

She returned in a sheer pink teddy. Standing over me, she rubbed her pussy across my lips while she spoke.

“Rule five. You are forbidden from asking for release, for an orgasm, or to be unlocked. Doing so automatically adds time to your chastity sentence. Agree?”

I started to protest, then stopped myself, exhaled hard, and kissed her ass. At this point I have no control anyway, what's the point of resistance.

The sixth outfit was a dark green corset with stockings and no panties. She walked a slow circle around me, then stopped and pushed her ass into my face again.

“Rule six. You will address me only as Mistress in private. Anything else is disobedience and will be punished with extra time. Agree?”

I muttered something under my breath but kissed without much fight.

Seventh was a black strappy harness that left almost nothing covered. She stood right in front of me, fingering herself openly while she waited.

“Rule seven. No talking back, no arguing, no attitude of any kind. I decide and you accept my decision. Disobedience adds time in chastity. Repeated disobedience adds significantly more. Agree?”

I looked at her for a few seconds, then leaned in and kissed.

Eighth was a soft lilac babydoll. She sat on the edge of the sofa, legs open, and pulled me in so I was breathing against her.

“Rule eight. If I ever unlock you, your hands remain restricted at all times. You do not get to touch yourself freely under any circumstances. Agree?”

I gave a short, frustrated sound but kissed her ass almost right away. She was visibly wetter now and didn’t hide it.

She came back in a simple black mesh set, completely see-through.

“Rule nine. If you’re ever given a choice between pleasuring me and your own pleasure, you choose me. Automatically. No thinking about it. Every second you hesitate adds one full day to your sentence. Agree?”

I looked up at her and shook my head.

“That’s ridiculous. You’re basically saying I can’t even think for myself anymore. One second of doubt and I get another day locked? That’s just setting me up to fail.”

She kept rubbing herself slowly.

“It’s not about setting you up to fail. It’s about training you. A proper slave doesn’t weigh options when his Mistress is involved. He puts her first without calculation. That’s the whole point.”

“I’m not a machine. You’re asking me to give up the last bit of control I have over my own reactions.”

She stepped closer, pressed her wet pussy against my mouth for a moment, then pulled back just enough to speak.

“Listen to me. I want this to be more than just locking you up and teasing you. I want us to be together again. Properly. It can be fun, really fun, if you stop fighting every single step. I’ll take care of you. I’ll reward you when you behave. I won’t be as cruel as I could be if you actually try. But I need this rule. I need to know that when it counts, you choose me without hesitation.”

“That still feels like too much. Days added for something as small as pausing?”

“It’s only too much if you plan on hesitating,” she said, almost gently. “If you mean it when you say you want to serve, you won’t hesitate. And if you do slip, the extra time is just a reminder. I’m not asking for perfection. I’m asking for the intention. Kiss, or we stop here and you go home.”

I stayed quiet for a long time, staring at the floor. She didn’t push harder with words. She just kept slowly touching herself in front of me, occasionally brushing the cage with her toes, waiting. The silence dragged. Finally I exhaled hard through my nose, leaned forward, and kissed her ass. It was still reluctant, but I did it.

She let out a soft, pleased sound and kept her fingers moving.

“Good. One more.”

She left and returned a few minutes later in the dark burgundy set — bra, garter, stockings. She looked composed, but her hand was already back between her legs. She stood over me and waited until I looked up.

“Rule ten. I reserve the right to cancel or postpone any release, any orgasm, and to add time to your sentence however I want, whenever I want, for any reason or for no reason at all. Agree?”

I immediately shook my head harder than before.

“No. Absolutely not. That’s not a rule, that’s just you keeping total arbitrary power forever. You could lock me for months on a whim. There’s no limit, no fairness, nothing. I can’t agree to that.”

She crouched a little so her face was closer to mine.

“You’re right. It is arbitrary. That’s the point. A real Mistress doesn’t need a good reason. She decides. If I want to push your release back a week because I’m in the mood to watch you suffer, I will. If I want to add two weeks because you looked at me the wrong way, I can. That’s what you’re signing up for.”

“That’s insane. You’re asking me to hand you a blank cheque over my entire sex life.”

“Yes,” she said simply. “And in return I’ll give you something you haven’t had in ten years. Me. All of me. Naked, in lingerie, teasing you, using you, keeping you close. I’ll take care of you. I’ll reward you when you’re good. I already told you I won’t be as cruel as I could be if you behave. But I need the final say. No negotiations after this. No loopholes. If you stay, you stay under my terms completely.”

I pulled against the cuffs in frustration.

“You’re making it sound like a relationship while stripping every bit of safety out of it. That’s not fair and you know it.”

She pressed her pussy against my mouth again for a few seconds, letting me feel how wet she was, then pulled back.

“Fair was never on the table. You came back. You stayed through nine rules. You kissed my ass every time even when you hated it. You want this, even if you’re scared of how far it goes. I’m offering you the real thing, me, us, but only if you accept that I hold the key in every sense. Last chance. Kiss and belong to me, or leave and go back to fantasising about what you could have had.”

The silence this time was longer. I stared at her, breathing hard, clearly torn. She didn’t speak again. She just kept slowly fingering herself in front of me, eyes steady, waiting. Minutes passed.

I leaned forward one last time and kissed her ass, slower than the others, like I was still trying to talk myself out of it even as I did it.

She let out a longer, shakier breath and kept her hand moving between her legs.

“You’re mine now. Completely.”

The moment I kissed her ass for the tenth rule, Brigit didn’t waste another second. She pushed two fingers inside herself and started rubbing her clit hard and fast, breathing already turning uneven.

“I can’t wait anymore,” she said, voice tight. “You turned me on so much agreeing to everything. I need to cum right now.”

Her legs started shaking within seconds. A clear trail of wetness ran down her thigh as she came, hips jerking, a sharp little sound escaping her throat. She stayed like that for a moment, fingers still moving slowly through the aftershocks, then grabbed the leash and dragged me across the floor toward the couch like a pet, not particularly gentle about it.

She dropped onto the cushions, still breathing heavily, and pulled my head against her thigh, stroking my hair.

“You made me very happy,” she said, voice softer now. I’m really glad we’re back together.”

She kept caressing my head for a while, letting her breathing settle.

“As a reward you can choose one of the sets you liked the most, and you can stay the night.”

I told her the first one, the short black babydoll. She nodded, stood up, and left me cuffed exactly as I was, ankles and wrists locked behind me. When she came back she was wearing it again, the thin fabric showing everything. She didn’t uncuff me. She just grabbed the leash and dragged me along the floor into the bedroom.

She climbed onto the bed and lay down on her stomach, looking back at me over her shoulder.

“I promised I’d let you rub your cock against my ass, my pussy, and my nipples. I want you to enjoy it.”

I shifted as much as the cuffs allowed and looked down at myself.

“I’m still locked.”

She smiled, calm and almost amused.

“I said I was going to let you rub your cock against me. I never said I would unlock you first.”

I stayed quiet for a second, frustration clear on my face.

“How am I supposed to properly feel anything like this?”

She tilted her head, still watching me.

“You sound like you’re not satisfied with the reward I just gave you.”

“It’s not that… I just can’t really press against you properly when it’s locked.”

“So what are you saying, then?”

I hesitated, choosing the words carefully.

“I’m saying it would be better if it wasn’t in the way.”

She raised an eyebrow slightly, and visibly getting irritated.

“Better if what wasn’t in the way?”

“The cage.”

“And what do you want me to do about the cage?”

…Unlock it. Just for this. There it is. You just asked to be unlocked.”

My heart started pounding in my throat. I tried to say something but she interrupted me.

“That’s not...”

“Rule five,” she cut in, still speaking calmly. “You are forbidden from asking for release, for an orgasm, or to be unlocked. Doing so automatically adds time. You just earned your first week of chastity sentence. You should be more careful. I will enforce every single rule. Remember? You’re in a relationship with a strict chastity Mistress now.”

I opened my mouth, then closed it again.

“Say you accept the sentence.”

“…I accept the sentence.”

“And thank me.”

“Thank you, Mistress.”

She smiled, pleased, and settled back onto her stomach, arching her back a little so her ass and the thin fabric between her legs were right in front of me.

“Good boy. Now go ahead and enjoy your reward.”

I shifted forward as best as the cuffs allowed and started rubbing the locked cage against her. The metal was smooth but completely unyielding. No matter how I pressed or moved, there was no real stimulation, only the constant reminder that I couldn’t get hard. The more I tried, the more frustrated I became.

Brigit looked back over her shoulder and watched me for a while.

“Come higher,” she said. “Against my breasts.”

I awkwardly worked my way up. She pushed her chest toward me so the cage rubbed over her nipples through the thin fabric. Then she reached back, guided me lower again, and arched her hips.

“Now pretend you’re fucking me.”

I pushed forward, grinding the cage against the soft fabric covering her pussy, trying to find any kind of rhythm. It looked and felt ridiculous. She started laughing.

“Look at you. Trying so hard to fuck me and you can’t even get an erection without my permission. It’s pathetic. Ten years ago you took my virginity like it was nothing. Now you can’t even get hard unless I allow it.”

She kept her hips tilted so the cage stayed pressed against her, clearly enjoying the control more than the physical sensation. After a few more minutes she sighed and rolled onto her side.

“That’s enough. I’ll let you sleep in the bed tonight.”

She unlocked the cuffs from my wrists and ankles. My shoulders and legs ached as I stretched them out. She didn’t remove the collar or the cage. She simply turned her back to me, pulled my hips against her, and settled in with her ass pressed firmly against the metal.

“Don’t move too much,” she murmured. “I’m going to sleep.”

I lay there in the dark, locked cock trapped against her, still aching and completely unable to do anything about it.

The next morning she woke me up and led me straight into the shower. She unlocked the cage, cleaned me thoroughly, then wrapped her soapy hand around me and started stroking with slow, deliberate movements. She brought me to the edge the first time and stopped completely. The second edge came faster. By the third I was already moaning, hips twitching despite trying to stay still.

She took her hand away immediately.

“That’s enough. You’re too close.”

I stood under the water breathing hard, cock still hard and throbbing, while she watched me with a small, satisfied smile.

When I had calmed down enough she forced the cage back on. It was a struggle. I was still swollen and sensitive, but she was patient and firm about it.

Once it locked she added a pair of small straps around the base ring, tightening them so the whole thing sat more securely and comfortably against me.

“You’ll be wearing this for a while,” she said, giving the cage a light tug to check it. “Get used to it.”

We dried off, got dressed, and left for work at the same time. The metal sat heavy between my legs the entire way.

To Be Continued...