A Lazy Keyholder Wife

"You are definitely wrong. I don't feel like a Goddess. And with all the TV propaganda, photo filters on social media, beautiful actresses and singers... I believe that all these things increase the insecurity of Western girls, undermining the self-esteem of whole generations. No, I am not a Goddess, and every month the menstrual flow reminds me that I am just a woman. Zero % Goddess. I can, perhaps, agree to admit to a 5% Queen, a 60% Owner, and a 35% Nurse, because, even if you never noticed, I take care of you and the family for most of the day. And I deliberately said Owner because I can't stand the word Mistress."

"Okay. I promise I will never say it."

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Looking back on that evening, I realized that Brittany had carefully avoided getting me too excited. Perhaps she thought that teasing activities were excessive baggage loaded on her shoulders? Over the next few days she never mentioned the possibility of granting me releases.

She often ordered me to lick her pussy, or to hold the Magic Wand while she orgasmed before my eyes. But she never released me.

A couple of times she asked me, in a very gentle and very serious voice, if the skin on my testicles hurt, or if I had a "dermatological" need to open the cage for cleaning. But I sincerely replied that it was not necessary: the shower spray was enough to clean everything, and the lack of semen on the skin greatly diminished the bad odors.

I thought that after the episode with the maid, Brittany would explore other opportunities to show how proud she was of my devotion by showing my predicament to other women. But she chose to avoid it.

The vacation spent all of it this way. I was denied both sex with her and solitary masturbation. Instead she would masturbate or demand oral sex from me.

On the last night I hoped that she would want to take care of me. Instead, after making me eat pussy for a whole hour, she fell asleep and said only "Never Reciprocate," giggling.

I hoped she would order me to sleep on the floor, or go out on the balcony and sleep naked where everyone could see me. Instead he told me nothing.

If your keyholder is completely unwilling, your sex life inside the chastity cage could be very boring.

But other than sex (very little), I was happy to be free of that worry. Yes: worry. I don't know if it's true that men think about sex every seven seconds, but in my case, I was thinking about sex at least every seven minutes. And I masturbated every night, ejaculating at least two or three times a night. Now, however, thanks to my wife, who thankfully never opened the lock, I was serene and relaxed. And I was also enthusiastic about doing small acts for her: bringing her coffee, pouring a glass of wine, fetching a brush or the sunglasses she had left on purpose to give me a command. I had very few ejaculations but a lot of energy. Incidentally, I received a few emails from the office where I worked, and I was able to respond competently and enthusiastically even though I was on vacation-I even received praise from my boss!

Strange how a small cage can change your daily life so much.

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I was excited about the idea of being able to help her achieve orgasms using any sex toy available on the market. And for that reason, before I left for that vacation, I had bought a remote-controlled vibrator (very quiet), a magic Wand, and a clitoral sucker.

My wife Brittany is very shy and does not buy these things. Also, I know for a fact that she masturbates very little... we once had an old battery-powered vibrator, and one of the batteries had melted, I had noticed it but then forgot to change it. I had had to go away for work two weeks: when I came back, the batteries were still there. And that purr had not been changed. Proof positive that she had not even touched the vibrator, despite having two weeks of available time.

I thought I had given her beautiful gifts that would inspire in her a feeling of gratitude toward me. Instead-the gifts stole her from me.

The vibrator replaced my cock for penetration. She liked it so much, she wore it even when we went to the restaurant: she instructed me to hold it at minimum speed, and occasionally raise it to jerk her a little.

The magic wand replaced my hands around her pussy.

The clit sucker replaced my mouth around her protruding clit.

After a few short days, she had almost predetermined a fixed pattern. She would order me to sit, naked, with my wrists cuffed behind the back of the chair in front of the bed. Then, the only thing she would do, she would hook my ankles to my wrists by going under the chair. From then on, she was completely disinterested in me, even though she knew I was drooling with desire, with my cock craviing an erection and cumming for days. She would read novels, with the vibrator inside her pussy and the magic wand over her skin...then when she was most aroused, she would apply the suction cup to her clitoris and orgasm noisily...then either fall asleep, or start reading again, while a large drop of precum glistened on my frustrated cock. Frustration overwhelmed me.

I would have wanted to be part of every orgasm of hers. But she enjoyed keeping me on the sidelines, forced to watch her as she climaxed alone.

Then, without saying a word, she would fall asleep in front of me, naked and all glistening with pussy dew. And I would spend the whole night watching her, sitting and imprisoned, with no chance to give myself release.

One night, she woke up to go to the bathroom naked. Feigning astonishment, she asked, "But what are you still doing awake, sweetie? You're not jerking off watching porn movies, are you? Or doxen of erotic tales form that site..."

Brit the Brat chuckled, then she walked toward the bathroom. I heard the sound of the drain and then the water from the bidet: she was washing the sweet pussy that I so wanted to clean with my tongue.

After a few minutes, she came back to me, and slid behind the back of the chair. Brittany whispered to me, "If you let me put the cuffs back on your wrists, I will allow you to get out of this hard chair, and come and cuddle me until I fall asleep. Of course, the cage remains closed, and your wrists will be hooked behind your back again, but at least you will taste the sweetness of the mattress!"

I nodded. I was so sleepy, and yet, being lying behind her kept me from falling asleep: the scent of her hair, the smell of her orgasmic pussy, the touch of the skin of her buttocks kept me awake.

Still, that sight each night filled me with joy. Even though I was drowning in frustration, I could see that she had intense and numerous orgasms, and that made me happy, even if I did not participate. Even though my cock, hands, and mouth had been replaced by three sex-toys I had given her.

One night, she woke up to go to the bathroom naked. Feigning astonishment, she asked, "But what are you still doing awake, sweetie? You're not jerking off watching porn movies, are you?"

She giggled, then went into the bathroom. I heard the sound of the drain. She came back to me, and slid behind the back of the chair. She whispered to me, "If you let me put the cuffs back on your wrists, I will allow you to get out of this hard chair, and come and cuddle me until I fall asleep. Of course, the cage remains closed, and your wrists will be hooked behind your back again, but at least you will taste the sweetness of the mattress!"

I nodded. I was so sleepy, yet, being lying behind her kept me from falling asleep: the scent of her hair, the smell of her orgasmic pussy, the touch of the skin of her buttocks kept me awake.

I thought that the next morning she would tease me, whip me, do for me all the things I desired. Instead, he did nothing for me at all.

I felt like that meme, in which a lusty wife tells her husband, "Honey, tie her to the bed and then do whatever you want..." he ties her to the bed gagged and then he goes fishing by the river, because that was the thing he wanted most in his lifetime: an afternoon without his wife nagging for anything.

That meme makes people laugh, because everyone knows that the sexual drive of males always places male orgasm as the primary goal.

In contrast, my situation was no laughing matter, because my wife's sexual drive has always been much lower than mine. In the evenings she masturbated, but she didn't always go all the way to orgasm-sometimes it was just cuddling that the vibrator did on the outside of her pussy while she read. Like eating popcorn at the movies.

The vacation ended with my balls as blue as the sea. She did not mention releasing me at all. And she almost completely ignored my cock, my cage, even my suffering.

Be careful what you wish for, men. Some women are enthusiastic to tease you. Other women, on the other hand, are completely disinterested. If you entrust your key to a woman who has neither time nor desire to tease you, she will ignore you all the time, and you will have been the one to ask her!

Perhaps the force chastity lifestyle only works if the keyholder is genuinely interested in exploiting your frustration to get more aroused in quality and quantity. But if she is frigid, inappetent, distracted or indifferent, the lifestyle does not work well in the bedroom. I had gotten so much serenity and happiness from it: but very little cumming.

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Chapter 2. Surprise ending. ONE MONTH LATER: Wife's Viewpoint.

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Brittany: Dear Diary, a month ago my husband...

[A short premise

Parody is about reversing many of the elements you read in tales form this category that often make no logical sense or material coherence. Narratives that tell of cages opening and closing instantly, from day one (while the reality is that it takes patience and skill tested through experience: both on his part and hers). Narratives of men waking up with a cage on them, put under hypnosis, or during sleep: exciting, no doubt, but unrealistic, since from 99% of the devices you manage to get out one way or another. Not to mention that if it were a nonconsensual act, it would be reportable to the police; and unlike other nonconsensual «actions» you read about on this site, this is not a stolen kiss that lasts a few minutes, but weeks, months, sometimes even years of forced chastity... how can the reader accept that that husband never tried to slip away, or turn to someone for help? But the least realistic element is for the wife to suddenly agree to take on all the duties that pertain to a keyholder. This is a classic projection of male desire: as if to say: «I would like to tease her 24/7, but she doesn't care about my provocations... vice versa, I would like her to want to tease me 24/7 as well, but this contrasts with her laziness, her tiredness after work, the time she devotes to herself while ignoring me, etc. »

Humor and Satire tales from the category «Fetish- male chastity cage».

A short but non-boring premise. Although it always appears in erotic tales that wives, even the most reluctant ones, become all enthusiastic about enforced male chastity, in real life (in the complaints of posts on specialized sites, in requests for advice on help sites, and even from the number of Manuals devoted to vanilla wives) one sense that there is a percentage of wives who care little or nothing if their husbands are caged (with peaks of women who don't care 100%).

And it is easy to understand why. Because if the husband has a free dick, the women know how to handle it, with tricks as old as the Odyssey (today I have a headache, I haven't finished my chores, you haven't finished yours, yesterday we fought, this afternoon you forced me to NAG you because of your attitude... and so on listing hundreds of clichés and puerile expedients).

Of course, theoretically, the husband could cheat on his wife, either with a mistress or with a prostitute; but even this eventuality has been handled by wives over the centuries, with well-established routine protocol and paradigms: blackmail, divorce, money as compensation, or even just expensive gifts to "make it up to her." For centuries marriages have been run this way by millions of women, blackmailing, threatening, or denying their husbands all over the world, from Australia to the Sioux, from Eskimos to Mandingos. And don't listen to those who speak of "patriarchal oppression," but when did they ever! in all the families of our grandparents, the wife commanded and the husband obeyed, and he died in the factory or the trenches while she stayed at home nursing the babies (that she had wanted).

In this tale which is a parody of the genre devoted to chastity cages, we describe a completely unwilling and uninterested wife. Her husband gives her the key, BUT SHE DOES NOT GIVE A THING ABOUT IT. You will notice that paradoxically, he still gets aroused by small gestures, which she does completely innocently, but which in his imagination are enough to trigger exciting daydreaming. But is this not the case for all husbands? Do YOU get aroused every time she takes a shower, even if she does it completely innocently? Do YOU get aroused every time she says "will you zipper my dress?" imagining that she says "actually no, take off my dress and fuck me, let's have a quickie before we go to the theater!!!" (but instead she never says that: because she would rather cry while watching two actors in a musical than moan from a real orgasm)

Usually in this Category's narratives, the wives are immediately enthusiastic and begin to tease and deny their devoted husband, giggling joyfully and buying provocative lingerie to arouse him. This wife, on the other hand, doesn't care if he is caged, and does absolutely nothing to turn him on. Zero tease.

But he still gets turned on. If she tells him "take out the garbage" in the most neutral tone possible, he interprets, "Listen to your Powerful Queen's Commands, caged slave: now I want you to haul the most humiliating material in the house, out past the garden, and I don't care if you might bother the neighborhood bored housewives who might see you. In fact: to increase the risk, I want you to walk slowly. And if a male is talking to you, remember that he can cum freely but you can't; and if a female is talking to you, remember that if you were free you could flood her face and the mane with ropes and ropes of semen, but because you are caged, you won't be able to. And don't forget to kiss every woman you meet! Maybe the scent of her skin, or the clothes, will make you a little more aroused by the contact. Are you willing to go through all this suffering just to entertain me, slave?".

Yet... if we check the record... she had only said "take out the garbage."

I mean: it's all a mental construct of him, IT ALL HAPPENS IN HIS HEAD.

End of premise. Now, her point of view, a month later.]

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BRITTANY'S DIARY. Dear Diary, A month ago my husband proposed me to be his Keyholder. I agreed only on the condition that it did not involve any obligation for me. He swore that I would have no obligations, and I accommodated him: devoid of obligations, I never granted him any releases, I did not allow him to lick the pussy, I did not indulge any of the fantasies he had. I ignored him for the entire vacation (and just think, I used to feel guilty and at least once would have gotten him laid! But on this vacation, the guilt was gone, and I didn't even allow him a little quickie to cum).

At first I was annoyed by yet another sexual extravagance of my husband. But I couldn't help noticing that he was markedly gentler than usual. I began to think about his new condition. Now he had given up masturbating: the key was hanging on my necklace, and I was sure of it. Perhaps his body was no longer releasing the serotonin and adrenaline of pleasure he used to get from masturbating, but neither was the prolactin after orgasm, which made him satisfied but also grumpy.

Since he has been wearing the cage he has become as sweet as a lamb, romantic, helpful and full of loving attention. And I no longer need to preemptively defend myself against unsolicited sexual attention, simply because he does not take any initiative unless I first give him the key! So I found that I start fights a lot less, scold him a lot less, and have considerably decreased the amount of nagging with which I used to harass him all the time - he says I used to do this to sabotage in advance any attempt at seduction, and who knows: maybe he guessed the truth, I don't know.

Luckily Nicholas did not ask for me to help him on a path of sissification: I couldn't take it. He is my man, the rock on which we cling, the beacon that saves our ships during storms: I couldn't bear to see him dressed as a schoolgirl or a nurse. And thank goodness he didn't ask me to cheat on him: I can't stand bullies, nor chads, nor gigolos, all junkie males convinced they're right about everything just because their dicks are the size of bottles. Zero Cuckolding, but for the simple reason that if I had wanted to, I could have cheated on him years ago when I was younger and distinctly more attractive. Now I am a mature wife, some of my children's friends consider me a MILF, but under no circumstances would I let myself be fucked by one of those 18-year-olds with dirty pimples on their faces and premature ejaculation. What a horror! No: no cuckolding, not because he didn't ask for it, but because it disgusts me. Not to mention the STD, sexually transmitted diseases, which these gigolo studs infect from one poor honest woman to another....

Dear diary, my husband Nicholas has always been very skillful with his tongue, but now he even seems improved to me. Skillful and eager: just a gesture from me, a nod, and he rushes to lick and suck my pussy, or nipples, or toes. Anything. And I must admit that he made me achieve very intense orgasms. To use the phrase he always repeats, "Never Reciprocate": the knowledge that "after" my orgasm I will have no moral obligation to toil to facilitate his orgasm, is very relaxing. Also I don't have to swallow or clean or change lingerie or sheets... it's all very neat and I can fall asleep immediately afterwards, in full bliss, without thinking about him. And for a woman, falling asleep immediately after an orgasm is heaven. I guess it is hard for him to fall asleep, with the taste of my pussy in his mouth and nose... so far he has never complained about that.

Dear Diary: on those rare occasions when I decide to release him, his cock rises impetuous and strong, and penetrates me for a very long time, much longer than before. Which is strange: he should be hungry to the point of near starvation, and I imagined he would cum immediately, instead he lasts much longer than before! And he has much more intense ejaculations. I mean really from the physical point of view: the color is less transparent and more white, the taste is sweeter, and don't be shocked if I tell you that once I couldn't swallow it all and part of his mess dripped onto my chin and my tits. Then he with doe eyes whispered to me, "Do you want me to clean you?" and with his tongue he sucked all his cum and I felt adored like an Empress.

Dear Diary, what do you want me to say? At first, this lifestyle seemed silly to me, but week after week I like it more and more. Sure, my husband can't compete with the movie actors or the characters in the porn-fantasy novels I read: aristocratic werewolves dueling against Greek demigods in the most luxurious homes in Manhattan. He is romantic in his own way, though. If I don't feel like cooking, all I have to do is say so once (even in a little message, while I read), then he bustles into the kitchen and arrives in the Living Room with a cart full of good things to eat and drink: then he serves me as if he were my Butler, and eats only what I allow him. At those dinners he comes all dressed up: completely different from those lazy husbands who show up for dinner in dirty t-shirts and boxers. My husband/butler serves me dressed in a suit and tie, with his socks and dress shoes and his shirt ironed and buttoned. Sometimes I am amused to ask him to unbutton his pants and serve dinner with the cage exposed... it makes me laugh to fondle his exposed balls and see how he gasps. Other times, after ordering him to dress in a suit and tie, I enjoy ordering him to strip naked: «I have changed my mind, it is the prerogative of all wives, no need to be a keyholder. I would like you to serve dinner naked, wearing only the cage, you don't mind honey?» Ha, ha, the pouting face, mixed with the happiness in his eyes! Priceless.