No Treats For Him

I shared this over on a while back. It’s somewhat milder compared to most tales out there, but I hope you find the ironic symmetry appealing. Let me know if you’d like me to share some of my other stories.

Trapped in what felt like the longest and slowest-moving queue at the checkout counter, Zena tapped her foot with impatience. She was running behind schedule and needed to get home to start dinner. To make matters worse, Mikhail, her four-year-old son, was also growing restless. When the line finally moved forward, they found themselves positioned right in front of the candy display. ‘At least it’s moving,’ she mused.

“I want Candy baaaaaarrrrr,” Mikhail whined.

“No candy.”

“Pleeeeeeaaaaasssseeee, just this onnnnnnce?” he pressed on.

“No. No junk food for you.”

“Aaaaaaawwwwwww,” he groaned further.

“Candy isn’t good for you. You’ll be bouncing off the walls and won’t eat your dinner.”

“I promise I’ll be goooooooood! I will eat my dinner.” The child was persistent.

“No, you don’t need any candy. Now stop it.”

“Aaaaaaawwwwwww, hah-aaaaaaaaawwwww,”

“Stop that whining right now. You’re worse than your father.”

Looking down and nearly at the end of her rope, she saw he was on the verge of tears.

“Are those tears? If you start crying, you’ll go straight to bed after dinner, understand?”

“sniff Uh-huh.”

“Do you want that?”

“sniff No.”

“Good. Then just sit still and be quiet.”

Once home, with dinner cooked and eaten, and the dishes cleared up by their two children who were now tucked in bed and sleeping, Zena and her husband, Mikhas, finally had some time alone together. Years ago, this wouldn’t have meant much. She would watch TV while Mikhas retreated to his ‘man-cave’ to watch something else on television or, more commonly, masturbate to whatever online porn caught his eye. There was a long period after the children were born when they stopped being intimate and sometimes even affectionate. At its worst, their marriage was truly in trouble.

So they saw counselors. They talked. They reconnected. After resolving many of the underlying issues both as individuals and as a couple, things improved significantly.

These days, they made every effort to ensure they had play-time as often as possible. The difference was that while Mikhas was clearly the head of the household in most other matters, Zena held charge in the bedroom. This arrangement helped her feel more comfortable and assisted her in overcoming some hang-ups and insecurities she carried. It worked better than either dared to hope. It truly allowed her to explore her sexuality and indulge Mikhas in whatever kink he wished to pursue—which was extensive, given all his time spent with internet porn. By keeping everything that happened in the bedroom under her complete control, she felt comfortable exploring things she never would have dreamed of before. Often, a “No” this week would become an “OK, let’s give it a try” next week.

She had only one hard and fast rule: Mikhas would never cum. Ever.

When they played, he had three safe word options: “Close,” at which point she would slow down the stimulation slightly; “Edge,” at which point she would cease all stimulation; And “Cumming,” at which point she would squeeze the base of his cock with all her might to stop the impending orgasm. It was very effective, though he hated how it felt. So he was always keen to call out “close” and “edge” a little earlier rather than later.

Regarding him never having an orgasm, she was uncompromising. After working out the kinks, Mikhas wore a chastity device all the time. She liked unlocking him almost every night for playtime, but he was never going to have an orgasm. He agreed tentatively at first, but the improvement in their sex life—and consequently their marriage—was so great that he wouldn’t even consider returning to how things were before. In the early days, he spent a lot of time with a sore groin and aching balls, but it had been so long now that this was rarely an issue, and he didn’t mind when it happened because it served as a reminder of how far they had come and how wonderful their relationship was.

All the same, the flesh is often weak. But that was fine. She enjoyed tormenting him, and on this night, he found himself bound to the bed with his wife stroking his considerable cock.

“close…” he strained against the rope restraints, beads of sweat rolling down his chest. She slowed down for a moment, then tightened her grip and sped up again.

“ugh… close…” and she slowed down once more. This continued for half an hour that felt like an eternity to Mikhas. She would bring him to the edge and back off slightly, not completely, before starting again. He was usually “close” within seconds.

She resumed her hard, fast stroking.

“uuugghh… close… close!… EDGE!” And she let go.

“Ooooooooooohhhhhh…” he moaned, “I want to cum so baaaaaadddd…”

“No cumming!” she answered firmly but not sternly.

“Pleeeeeeaaaaasssseeee, just this one tiiiiiime?” he kept on, desperation palpable in his tone and visible in his eyes.

“No! No orgasms for you!” Her tone was firm, though she smiled inwardly.

“Aaaaaaawwwwwww,” he moaned further.

“Orgasms are no good for you. You’ll get lazy and short-tempered and won’t help me around the house.”

“I promise I’ll be goooooooood! I will do whatever you want, pleeeeease…”

“No, you don’t need an orgasm. Now stop it.”

“Aaaaaaawwwwwww, ooooooooooooooooooohhhh…”

“Stop that whining now. You’re worse than your son, you know?”

Looking down, she thought she could see a tear forming at the corner of his eye.

“Are those tears? If you start that nonsense, we’ll snap the cage back on right now and go to sleep, understand?”

“Aaaaaaaaaw… Uh-huh,” he nodded meekly.

“Do you want that?”

“Oooooooooooh… Noooo.” He finally managed as the edge began to abate.

“Good. Then just lie still and be quiet.” And with those final words, she resumed stroking his cock, eliciting more of the delicious moans of beautiful agony that she loved hearing from this wonderful man who she loved so much.