A Gift: the Key of Hubby's Cock

Perhaps I have not explained myself in the most precise way. I love making love together with my wife, I love the feeling of being together to form "the animal with two backs," I love feeling the flesh of the vagina pulsing and contracting around my erect manhood. I love it.

But if I were to rank the different sexual activities, that would not be my number one favorite. If I may confess without shocking you, I prefer the blowjob, and my wife is skilled at that. It happens rarely, unfortunately... but when she cupped my balls, she sticks a finger in to solicit my prostate, and with her tongue, Britney stimulates the base of the penis while along the length she releases it and a hard shaft is plunged into her hot mouth...oh, that's heaven to me, Millie. And when she allows me to cum -- that's beautiful to me.

Consider also that I, like most men, masturbate. Or more precisely, I used to masturbate in the past. Once, twice, or even four times a day. Intense and satisfying orgasms. But I felt guilty as if I was stealing something from the woman who was my soul mate.

The chastity cage for me means giving up not only vaginal penetration but also receiving Britney's magnificent blowjobs! And giving up masturbating, too! And I have to admit that since I used to spend a lot of time on masturbation (as much as three or four hours every night, frantically consulting sites like Literotica) I sleep a lot more now, and productivity in the office has also improved.

Don't think Britney is cruel.

I begged her to be strict and rigid.

I know of some very lazy keyholders who neglect their caged husband. This is not our case. I don't impose anything on my wife: she has no duties, no duty to tease me or provoke me or ever condone a release.

It simply happens that all it takes for me is a gesture or a word or a kiss on the cheek to stay aroused for hours. If she simply changes her bra and I see her, I have an attempt at an erection. My heart throbs as if watching an obscene Burlesque actress perform on a theater stage.

If she trivially bends forward to tie her shoe, I see the perfect shape of her ass under her skirt, and my breath catches as if I have watched a porn film with two scissoring lesbians.

In addition, she has become more and more confident. Before she met me, she avoided exhibiting her body, to decrease the occasions when strangers or boyfriends would take sexual initiative with her. But with me, she is aware that I do not have the right to take initiative--and therefore, Britney has become freer and more seductive.

Before she only wore shapeless flannel pajamas and wide slippers, now she wears lingerie and heels even at home (when she feels like it) because she knows it makes me horny, frustrated, and happy. Well, now that the pregnancy is almost at an end, she rarely wears heels, however, she has bought a crotchless lingerie outfit, which leaves both her pussy and nipples exposed, and she comes to me to turn me on while I work from home... and if I didn't have my penis locked up, I would fuck her like there was no tomorrow.

That's for your question.

I know that in most cases the use of chastity devices is perceived (and represented) as a form of domination and humiliation.

And I know very well that in the beginning, it was used only within the gay community, to emphasize the submission of one male to another male. One of the two was FREE, while the other had his penis locked up and imprisoned: what worse humiliation, than being prevented from being able to ejaculate, while his partner proudly displayed his unchallenged erection?

I get it, even if it's not my cup of tea.

We are not like that.

The cage is my choice. Britney would also have accepted a more vanilla lifestyle, in the style of a 1950s straight couple: the wife waiting for her husband with dinner ready and hot pussy between her open thighs. But she, too, almost immediately realized that she, too, loved being my Keyholder (after a very brief period of reluctance).

During our Chaste Honeymoon, we learned many things, including from other Resort Guests. One naturist asked me if I perceived the cage as a prison or as protection. And it made me think.

You should know that my family has all Catholic for generations. But along with other genetic inheritances, I inherited from my grandfather and father the need to have phimosis surgery, so my knob is always exposed, without its hood anymore. And it occurred to me that maybe, in a way, the knob represents a kind of protection for me, restoring the status quo ante.

Mind you, I like my knob. But the first cage I had bought on my own was made of silicone and had precisely a cap over the tip.

Thinking back on it now, I realize that I was probably looking for at least part of a physical type of protection. As is often the case, the first purchase was too long: many men get their measurements wrong, and that first cage was almost useless in my case.

I repeat, I'm not micro-endowed: when erect, my penis is of average size. But I am more "grower" than "shower," and you have to take into account that when flaccid, the human penis is very manipulable and can be put in very small boxes. Sorry to harp on this detail, but I know that many eighteen-year-old girls do not have much experience with flaccid penises: it is easier for boys to show themselves naked only with a proud erection, and then hide the flaccid penis under clothes.

After that first purchase, I was able to reflect and bought a metal chastity cage, composed of crossed bars that force my penis to remain curved downward. The knob is no longer covered by a uniform cap, as it was in the silicone cage. I sense, though, that these thin but strong metal bars, as a whole, also form a sort of protective hood. At least, this is my personal feeling; I do not pretend to formulate a universal rule.

Yes, I would say that (at least for me) the cage is more of a protection, than a punishment.

I think subconsciously, Britney sensed something similar. The first time I, very hesitantly, dared to show myself naked wearing the cage (after talking about it together at length), she smiled at me and in an imperious but sweet voice said, "Kneel, good knight, and begin to serve your Queen. From now on, your Full Name will be Dean the Paladin!"

I know it's a silly sentence! But we were both on the same page, and her words helped to downplay a situation that, for other people, might have become awkward or embarrassing.

And since then, I feel like a Paladin from Dungeons and Dragons, on a mission to provide the Queen with all the orgasms she desires, never asking for anything in return. Never Reciprocate.

I know that between me and Britney, it is never perceived as a punishment that she inflicts on me. She never says silly things like "If you don't take out the trash, I won't open your lock for two days," our love is too intense for childish games. She never says, "If you don't pay me for a trip to the Maldives, I'll throw away the key," or "I made a bet with my friend Barbie, the one who keeps her husband locked the longest will win, and guess what? Her record is two years, eight months and 17 days!" No, nothing like that.

And we don't take the calendar into account. That is: we only use the calendar to plan things in life, such as months of pregnancy, tax deadlines, and weeks off from work to be together as much time as possible and enjoy our union (while I know that many vanilla couples quarrel and do everything to spend their free time separately, because each can't stand the other!).

Britney never said "Your release is postponed until Christmas... next year!" or "I know it's your birthday tomorrow, so, I will be forced to use the key to open your lock." No. She is completely free and can decide if and when I can cum, without being a slave to a calendar herself.

Just figure it. She did not allow me to cum the night before the wedding (the famous Bachelorette Party that you, unfortunately, were too young to attend), and that is perhaps very common. But Brit did not allow me to cum on the wedding night either!

Often vanilla couples don't make love on the first night because the husband is drunk and the bride is tired. Instead, I had only had one glass of champagne, and she was not tired; in fact, she danced all night together with the bridesmaids while I licked the anuses, pussies, nipples, and toes of each of them.

The girls kept me awake and perpetually aroused throughout my entire wedding night! And she never allowed me to cum, not once.

The same happened then on the afternoon of Day One of our Chaste Honeymoon: when instead, statistically vanilla couples make love quietly in the Resort's bedroom. Similarly, zero cumming for me on the First Honeymoon evening, and zero on the First Morning as well: she, on the other hand, had taken a liking to it, and collected orgasms in great numbers. Here Comes the Bride... only she comes, indeed.

But I was happy like that. You may think I exaggerate my generosity, but I do not boast without proof: ask your cousins Janine and Karen. Now that you are of age, they will be able to confirm what I say.

And unfortunately, I don't have Priscilla's phone that was full-term pregnant... she could be a crucial test of how generous a man with a padlocked penis can be.

Also, consider how important monogamy was to me, and chastity in a spiritual sense. As I told you, I and my whole family are Catholics. As strange as it may sound, for us, virginity is a value (I know it may sound ridiculous to you, but it was true for me).

However, I don't want to pose as a saint. I had a girlfriend before Britney, she wanted to make love, and I let her convince me. But she was not the right person, we broke up, and she got involved with other boyfriends. I had lost my virginity to someone worthless. Bah. Things that happened. I had other girlfriends, and I got laid. I am an average man, with average size, average length, and average skill. I am neither a giant nor a dwarf. I simply do not like to penetrate, and I know I am not the only male on the Earth with this preference.

I hope I haven't bored you. I was told in the Catholic community that sometimes the way I speak sounds sanctimonious.

I am what I am and I cannot and will not change.

This is the lifestyle we have chosen, period.

Dean.

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o-o-o-o

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From: Cousin Millie

To: Dean.

Thank you, Dean, I consider you a truly remarkable man. I took the liberty of talking to Milton about you, he would like to ask you some questions, I beg you to welcome him as a brother.

Signed: Mildred.

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o-o-o-o

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From: Milton the groom-to-be

A: Dean the groom already married.

Thank You, for preciuous pieces of advice. Just a quick question. Are you truly happy? I may help you to escape if you need a hand. May we meet just one time without women?

Sincerely, Milton

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o-o-o-o

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From: Dean husband of Owner Britney, queen of keyholders

To: Milton

Meet me in my office at the bank, you choose either Thursday or Friday morning, 10 a.m. I am profoundly happy but I understand that you may need to verify.

Sincerely, Dean.

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o-o-o-o

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From: husband of Owner Britney, Queen of the Keyholders.

To: Very Honorable Cousin Millie.

Dearest Cousin Millie, I believe I have proved to Milton that it is possible to be an alpha male, respected at work and admired by co-workers, even though his wife wears the key that locks the chastity lock around her neck.

This morning Milton came to talk to me in my office at the bank. He didn't like the environment (what do millennials have against banks? They've been around since ancient Greece!) but then I introduced him to the girls who work on loans related to environmentalism in developing countries, and he seemed much more serene.

I lead three investment teams, but the environmentalism girls are my spearhead. We do other things as well, but that is a positive sector, and also one that is trending upward.

Milton saw that everyone asked me for advice with the utmost respect. It was not a set-up: an unforeseen problem also happened (in a former French colony) and we had to solve everything by speaking in French on the phone...in short, it was an eventful day.

As an excuse, I was absent myself for a moment and left Milton with the girls to talk about Global Economics. That way, he was free to ask questions about me without me listening.

Afterward, Milton wanted to confide in me that he asked one of the girls if she knew of any secrets in my marriage. He said that she blushed suddenly! Then she confessed to him that one day she thought she saw the outline of a metal cage around my penis. So she did some research and found out that it is a very common practice! My co-worker was so fascinated, that she proposed it to her boyfriend, and now they are also living the lifestyle (and I didn't suspect anything, because in the office she never wears the key around her neck, I don't know why).

Milton reported that the girl was very happy that I was caged because a caged boss does not harass subordinates (whereas, I know for a fact that in her previous job, she was sexually harassed by an aggressive boss).

Milton was beaming. What an idea! If the boss wears the cage, the trust of co-workers increases! Great. He too has some girls working for him in the homebrewed craft brewery, and perhaps if all the girls were aware of the cage, they would have less hesitation to trust him!

Also, Milton could see that I was very focused on the work issue! The room was hot, one of the girls took off her suit jacket and was left in a T-shirt with her nipples visible under the thin fabric, and I didn't even notice! That also fascinated him so much.

We went to lunch together, he and I. He asked me if I would like to run away, but as he asked, he apologized, because by then he had already realized that was not the point. I explained to him that if I wanted I could slip out, or have a locksmith break the lock. I also told him that the spare key is easily accessible, in a crystal box above the top shelf in the kitchen. To prove it to him, I showed him: that I am free to take the box and bring it to the office. See, I told him, this is the crystal box that holds my key, the key to freedom. This drop of wax bears the imprint of my wife's seal (it is a small wooden stamp, costs two dollars, and looks like a medieval seal: it makes her feel like a real queen). If I break the seal, she sees it, but she can't stop it from happening.

Then I told him that if he wanted, I could take the key, open the lock, and show him that I don't care about being freed if Britney doesn't want it. He nodded and tried to hide his tears however he was crying with joy.

I think he would like you to start this journey together with him.

I wish you a lot of happiness.

Dean.

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o-o-o-o

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From: M & M=M- Millie and Milton, the Millennials

TO: Britney and Dean.

Dear cousins and mentors, we would hereby like to invite you to the bachelorette party (hen party/bachelorette) of Mildred herein. Both of us would like you two to actively participate: she is among the bridesmaids, and he together with Milton in the "cleaning service" department.

Please don't tell us no! It would be the crowning of a dream that began because of you.

Kisses, and very tight hugs, M & M=M, the Millenials.

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o-o-o-o

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THE END

### My contribution to Valentine's Day Story Contest 2024.

If this fetish intrigues you, on this site there are more of my tales featuring Britney, Dean, and other women: both before and after the Chaste Honeymoon.

Leave a comment if you enjoyed it.

English is not my native language, please forgive my mistakes.###