Beginning the Journey

I’m penning some brief tales concerning Male Chastity for Amazon / Kindle and other platforms (having published non-adult work there before). Meanwhile, I’ve begun a first-person, semi-autobiographical narrative… I’ll share the initial portion here to gauge your thoughts? Feedback would be greatly appreciated. thanks. Ninety eight hours have passed since the lock was sealed again. Numbers matter to me; I’m unsure if they do for her too. The Key Keeper might claim otherwise, but that could add to the enjoyment. Who knows whether she is keeping count? I’ve just finished exercising. Twenty minutes on the Cross Trainer while wearing my boxers rather than going to the gym. The heavy, gleaming steel spiral can almost slip out through my button fly, yet there’s no one around and it feels less humiliating than all that sneaking about required for a shower at the Leisure Centre! The substantial ring encircling the base of my testes feels wonderful, very good. Occasionally, my padlock chimes against the cage, metal ringing on metal. This book will narrate my tale. Along the way, I’ll explain what seems to be true regarding real male chastity. This volume won’t feature any ‘Madame Sophie’, that horse-riding aristocrat who enjoys whipping her boys and discussing derrieres in a fictional realm rooted in ancient pornography. Instead, it tells you about my journey from dissipated and disillusioned player to permanently excited and intrigued cuckold. My partner works in an office. She wears an identity badge on a lanyard. If you look very closely, you can spot a small key nestling against the identity badge. That’s the key to my chastity. How Did it Start? It began in childhood. I think I was about ten years old, though I cannot be certain. At a family gathering, I wandered upstairs for some reason and stumbled upon the teenage version of the party. My female cousin, roughly eight years older than me, was in a room with many of her friends, all women. They were likely drinking and even more probably smoking. All I recall is blushing. The atmosphere was electric, immediately. A rush of emotions hit me, intensified by their unexpectedness. They were teasing me. I don’t remember the specifics but knew it was happening. What confused me was that I didn’t want to flee. I was enjoying being controlled, perhaps even humiliated. I’m no psychologist and prefer not knowing too much about the answer, but is this something inherent in us, or imposed by experience? Whatever the truth, I now know I am not unusual. The most popular manufacturer’s website will tell you that total sales of their chastity devices for men are nearing or have passed a million. The next pivotal figure in my chastity evolution was Sadie Stern. In my teens, I would travel to Charing Cross station in London and walk toward Soho spending money on the best porn magazines available. This was during the 1970s when Mary Millington was the name everyone knew. Near the end of this period, I noticed a new, darker magazine: Sadie Stern’s Monthly. The photos featured high-booted women who often looked bored, usually smoking or sitting on a man’s face, or both. The stories and letters were the real treat though. I realized that the feeling of pure naughtiness and excitement grew stronger as I read more. Queening became an ambition – I longed for one of these women to sit hard upon my face and smother me. I wanted to feel owned, controlled, and used. My favorite stories involved men who didn’t service their partner or wife themselves but watched others take that role. Creampies and chastity cages weren’t yet fashionable, but the ideas were there, growing irresistibly within me. That was some thirty years ago, and it took that long to reach where I wish to be. Between then and now have been wonderful experiences as well as woeful ones, but the last year holds the most interest for anyone with similar persuasions.