Corrective Measures and Surrendering Control

Melissa took corrective action with me yesterday to head off a bad funk. It worked. Some two weeks ago Melissa was especially in the mood. We were going at it every other day for several hours each day. Not that I came, mind you, but there was a lot of kinky fun. I suppose I was a bit spoiled by it, because these past 10 days have been rather dry. I did bring her to orgasm with my fingers on Friday, but that’s been all. There has been a lot of touching and caressing and holding one another, thankfully. Yesterday she noticed I was quiet. It’s the kind of quiet I get when the effects of being kept 24/7 begin looming bigger and bigger in my mind. I’m over 30 days now since my last orgasm and my next caged one won’t be sometime until May or so. My next true one free from the cage won’t be until sometime in August. This is the way she wants it. The fewer orgasms the better, she says, for me and for us. Yes, other couples have shorter cycles but we’re not other couples. What a cliche to say “be careful what you wish for” but it’s a cliche because it’s true. I begged her to lock my cock up so many months ago. She didn’t know what a chastity device was and almost freaked out when she saw a picture of one. Now, she is fully invested in this way of life and is a firm keyholder. The thought of giving it up truly upsets her. She has no difficulty saying no to me. She loves me with all her heart, she says, and she especially loves the man that I am locked up. Yesterday she was sore from the gym. I rubbed her down. I admit, I was hoping it would turn her on too. No such luck. Afterward, as we lay side by side on the bed with the cool breeze from the window, she told me how she could see me becoming quiet. Soon, she said, you’re going to become sulky. Maybe even argumentative. I told her she was right, but that I was aware of it and was trying not to do that. She looked at me closely and then told me she wouldn’t have it. Not this time. She pulled off my boxer shorts and bent my knees back toward my chest. She took hold of my cage and lifted it toward my stomach so my balls were fully exposed. She then began slapping one then the other. Back and forth. Over and over. I immediately started to squirm and gasp and jerk my body. She held firm. Then she began smacking on them straight down, in the center of them, squishing them with each hit. My skin started stinging and that kind of sick feeling in my gut started creeping upward. I don’t know how many times she smacked them, but it was a lot. Somehow I heard her saying something like I was to be good and not fuss and to wait for her on her time. There quickly came a point where I could not take any more and I cried out “you’re in charge!” over and over. Then she stopped. And then she rubbed my chest and told me again and again how she loved me and respected me and loved how we were together. She did it. She broke me down and made me cry out for mercy. But it worked. The moodiness went away. Later last night we were lying in bed watching a movie. I realized how much I did not want to be corrected that way again. I know I won’t fuss for anything anytime soon. She said that, from now on, when she sees my mood come over me she is going to immediately correct me in the same way. I can honestly say I don’t want it, but I also know it worked. She knows exactly what I need. Michael