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- Posting sinceAug 2026
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- Mostly inStarting out
Where should I begin? Let me offer a brief introduction. My wife and I are in our fifties, both retired professionals—me from medicine and her from upper-level management. We’ve been married for twenty-eight years now. There have been good times and bad, but mostly the latter. Our sex life was decent enough, yet that special wow factor always seemed to be missing.
I’ve always possessed a very active imagination with somewhat kinky leanings, fantasizing about all sorts of things. The idea of being locked up and denied orgasm by an attractive woman has always been front and center in my mind. We experimented with various activities, but my secret kink remained hidden. Nothing serious or long-term really took hold.
About two years ago, I finally decided to come clean and share my deepest, darkest, most personal fantasy with her. She was slightly intrigued, asking a few questions, though not much changed immediately. A few months later, while we were making love, I asked her to imagine she was a queen and I was her sex slave who couldn’t have an orgasm unless she approved it. Within seconds, she exploded in one of the most intense orgasms I’d ever seen. She actually blacked out for a moment. I pulled out without releasing my own load and held her close. After a few minutes, she asked about my pleasure. I replied that my joy came from giving hers to her. We drifted off to sleep.
Over the next several weeks, I pleasured her with both my mouth and cock, sometimes having my own orgasms but always ensuring she did too. I played the role of sex slave because, in the heat of passion, it sent her over the edge.
About a year ago, while I was thrusting away during intercourse, she started telling me to imagine being locked up and released very rarely. She declared that she was my Mistress and that I could only cum with her permission. I felt myself getting close and mentioned it. She said I had to ask for it and that she might or might not allow it. I exploded, which in turn brought her over the edge again. As we lay there in the afterglow, she noted that my cock had swelled up larger than ever right before I came. She really liked how excited I’d been. Then she asked if I was serious about wanting to be locked. I told her yes, I really was. She didn’t say anything more as we drifted off.
A few days later, while she was out of town, I received an email from her. It basically said “order one of these,” including a link to a site selling chastity devices. My hands were shaking as I placed the order for a CB6000.
When she returned home, nothing was said about it immediately. The device arrived a few days later, and I fiddled around until I got the fit right. Then I gave her both keys, telling her that she was in charge of it and that I’d put it on when instructed. She was still a bit wishy-washy at first, and nothing happened right away. Over the next couple of months, she had me wear it from time to time for periods ranging from a few days up to about a week. Nothing major, and she never really got fully into it. I had almost accepted that my most desired fantasy was going to remain just that—a fantasy.
In mid-April this year, we were lying in bed talking when the subject came up again. I told her I appreciated her efforts but understood that chastity wasn’t something that deeply interested her naturally. She admitted she just wasn’t sure about the discipline aspect. We talked further, and I explained that D&S (Dominance and Submission) was only a different lifestyle that sometimes went hand-in-hand with chastity and denial, which I could take or leave. My fantasy revolved around her having total control over my erections and orgasms. I didn’t want a mother figure. She said she would have to think about this new development. Letting the subject drop for now.
On April 27th, we made love, and she brought something new into the mix. As I was getting closer to the edge, she asked how badly I wanted to come. I was close and quickly slipped back into my role as slave, asking her for permission. She said that if I really wanted to, I would have to beg her to allow me to lick her pussy clean after I had “messed it up.” I’d never thought of this before and wasn’t sure, but since I was quickly reaching the point of no return, I quietly told her OK. She quickly replied, “that’s not good enough. Either ask for it or pull out and finish me with your tongue.” I swallowed hard and just blurted out, “please let me eat my cum from your pussy.” That’s all it took. I exploded, pumping load after load deep into her pussy. It seemed exciting for her because she also had a bone-jarring orgasm. I slowly pulled out and collapsed beside her. After catching our breath for about ten minutes, she broke the silence by telling me that I had a mess to clean up. Although the thought was somewhat repulsive, I moved down between her legs. Damn if my cock didn’t start getting hard again. That surprised me. I am in no way gay or bi and have never had a fantasy consisting of eating semen myself. But here I was about to do it, and my damn dick was rising. I leaned down and started licking. It wasn’t as bad as I expected. Soon my wife started moaning, and I began sucking the jism out of her, which quickly brought on her second orgasm, squeezing more semen and pussy juice into my eager mouth. I moved up to cuddle her with a raging hard-on, which she lightly stroked before telling me that it appeared she had found another one of my kinks—a kink I didn’t even know I had. She then drifted off to sleep, leaving me very much wanting another orgasm.
I lay there but could not calm down. I slipped out of bed and into the bathroom and took matters into my own hands if you know what I mean. I cleaned up and slipped back into bed, sleeping like a baby.
As we had numerous things on our to-do list on Sunday, nothing was said initially. Later in the afternoon, she packed up for a trip up to her Dad’s place for a couple of days—a trip planned for weeks. I went about my business but masturbated a couple of times both Sunday and Monday night, once more Tuesday morning. She returned that afternoon, and everything seemed back to normal until we crawled into bed. Then she asked me point-blank if I had gotten myself off after she went to sleep Saturday night. She had me there. I confessed. She then asked how many times I’d done it while she was gone. Again, I admitted my weakness. She just nodded and said she suspected as much.
We normally made love every 5–10 days depending on her mood and desire. Then she asked the big question: how many times a week did I masturbate? Hell, she had me in the crosshairs so I went ahead and fessed up to three or four times a week.
She then hit me with the sucker punch by telling me those days were over. She instructed me to get my cage, and together we put it on. She clicked the lock shut and grinned. Then she lay back and spread her legs, telling me to get busy. I dove between her legs and brought her through a couple of really strong orgasms. We then cuddled while she rolled my balls between her fingers.
My cock was painful from trying to stay erect. As we lay there, she told me she wasn’t sure how long it would last but that for the foreseeable future I would be locked up and my orgasms limited. She stressed that I damned well wouldn’t be having three or four a week anymore. In fact, she said I’d be lucky to have one, likely not even many of those. Uh-oh, what had I gotten myself into? It reminded me of the adage “be careful what you wish for.” Then she told me that it really turned her on seeing me eat what she discovered was called a creampie. Damn the internet. She said I would be required to do that from now on. I still wasn’t totally thrilled about that and couldn’t quite explain why it turned me on, but I’m thinking it has something to do with giving up control—that is the basis for my chastity fantasy.
Over the next few days, I ate her to orgasm while she kept me locked up. While the desire to get out and release was reaching a fever pitch, something else was happening: I was starting to feel more affectionate toward my wife—more romantic, more caring, and attentive. We talked about it, and she had noticed it too. She said she kinda liked this new version of me. Funny thing is, I did too.
Fast forward to May 13th. I’d been locked up w
Fourteen days without an orgasm. Yeah, I was feeling it, but not unbearably so. My wife had crawled into a position for oral sex while I rubbed her back; as I licked and sucked at her pussy and clit, she played with my balls and tormented my poor cock through the device’s slits. Then she rolled over, asking me to fetch her We-Vibe while she retrieved the key. Once unlocked, I got an immediate, raging erection. Taking my time, I resumed licking before slipping the vibrator into her warm pussy. She told me to go slow since she wasn’t certain about letting me climax. Oh god, I hoped so. It had been longer than it probably has since Jr. High. I entered her slowly, focusing on giving pleasure. Seeing that she was close, she whispered for me to cum with her. That was all the invitation I needed. A couple more strokes and I felt myself swell before it happened. Holding back would have been impossible then. My orgasm pushed her over the edge too, and we held each other closely as we recovered.
After a few minutes, she instructed me to put the cage back on, which I did. She giggled while clicking the lock shut, then pointed out that I had a mess to clean up. Moving between her legs, I noticed the vibrator was still inside her. As I reached for it to set aside, she remarked that it was messy too. Defeated, I licked our combined juices from the toy after a moment or two, then dove back between her legs, licking and sucking her pussy until it was clean, which brought on another small orgasm.
A few days later, while I was performing oral sex on her again, she announced that I would be limited to one orgasm each month. Not every 30 days, but once per calendar month, with the specific day at her discretion. She also claimed the right to make me skip a month twice within the coming year. The math showed that if she allowed an orgasm on the first of the month and then made me wait through the next two before letting go again near the end of the subsequent month, she could effectively deny me for four months total. Whoa. Do I think it will happen? No, but the anticipation is part of the thrill. The brain really is our biggest sex organ.
That brings us to today, May 22nd. It has been nine days since my last release. At best, there are at least ten more days ahead, and I am accepting that reality. I have grown accustomed to the CB and usually forget it’s on. While the drastic drop in orgasms is tough, I’m adjusting to it as well. Regarding eating her creampie: not really fond of it, but a healthy relationship involves give and take. Over the years, I’ve taken far more than I’ve given. Guess it’s time to even the score slightly. Besides, it seems to hit all the right buttons with her.
We are an ordinary couple with a secret kink hidden away. If you bumped into us at a restaurant or bar, you’d never guess that beneath my trousers, I was locked up. You might just tell that I am extremely happy.
So begins my journey. I hope it continues; I really do mean it. I’ll keep you posted on how things go. Comments are welcome. We aren’t into BDSM, D&S, cuckolding, or swinging. Will we change our stance? Highly unlikely. Suggestions for enhancing what we have would be appreciated.
Thanks for reading along.