Caged Honeymoon: Welcome Party

She sighed theatrically, as a true Drama Queen, and whispered, "Oh my! It was really brutal today. I have so many deadlines and, worst of all, I spilled coffee on my new buttoned shirt and..."

She barely held back a laugh, thinking of someone who might actually think that a coffee stain could help make a workday heavier. My wife's real job is much more strenuous than that: an advanced chemistry lab. But the comic said so, and we were role playing, so she pretended to complain about the stain, and I pretended it was important.

I patted her shoulders as I slipped off her suit and said, "Forget work, I got off work early, from the bank, and I washed all the floors and the windows... Yes! And... and I did the laundry, and I also did your share of chores."

"Really?"

"Mhmm... and I made brownies!" I exclaimed, showing a lump of flour above the leather of the barbecue apron.

"Oh... but, Dean! Wow I can smell it, you done it!"

In the comic strip, the husband starts licking his tired wife's pussy without waiting for an order. But in our case, I had to wait.

I have no right to initiate sex.

Only she can.

She unzipped her short black skirt, and let it fall to the floor. Of course, unlike the daily routine of the lab, this evening she chose to go commando.

Perhaps my warm reception had turned her on, or the biscuits smell so good, or the novels were very erotic... because her pussy was all wet. The tailleur slipped off, she removed the top, showing me her already aroused nipples, dark and stiff as erasers.

She indicated with her finger to me to kneel down, while she pretended to continue talking about the duties of the job.

Quiet, I knelt while she took away my leather apron.

With quick strokes of my tongue, I wrung out her first moan of pleasure.

With her fingers she pressed my head against her pussy, gripping my hair. I licked as she moaned. Between pauses, I would tell her again that I had done the laundry, laid out the laundry, washed the floors and windows, and even done her portion of the chores.

Britney groaned and asked, "And what is that smell?"

"A nice woman who lives in the neighborhood helped me make brownies..."

"Oh, honey!"

The news that I had baked something was truly a surprise. Britney pretended to faint for a brief moment, then woke up, drawn by the smell of brownies.

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"Will our daily life always be like this?" she asked, with a note of concern in her voice.

"Of course! My work at the bank ends at 5 o'clock. I will always get home before you, and I will always do chores for you.

I don't know if I'll learn to make cookies well, but still...

If Frank has become a great cook (as we heard earlier today), I could learn too! I don't see anything gay about that, or forced sissification.

After all, in armies, cooks are male. In pirate ships, like Long John Silver, and on fleet and submarines, cooks are male.

I never learned, but if it will relieve you of a duty, and to feed our children, I will learn to cook!"

"Oh, Dean! You are the sweetest man in the world!

And I want to confess something to you: the girls sent me a lot of messages after I sent the selfie, and they are crazy messages!

Some of them say they read on the internet that a keyholder should be very strict, and criticize every little mistake of the submissive husband, for example, say the cookies are too burnt and take advantage of this preposterous pretext to punish you."

"And you decided to behave like that?"

"Oh, Dean dear, no! Of course, I don't! I love you, I'm not looking for preposterous pretexts to punish you!

That's what old vanilla wives do: never stop nagging her husband and prodding him until he has a nervous breakdown... or until he cheats on her with another, less nagging woman. I'm not like that.

But...

But, on second thought... if you and I would like to explore some areas of BDSM... I also have in my luggage a soft whip with which to scourge your exposed testicles, and some girls advise me to open the cage just to give a hundred lashes to your erect penis... without allowing you to cum. I don't know... what do you say?" said Britney, with a teasing tone in her voice.

"I will accept whatever you want to experience on me, my love." (I wonder which of the girls had recommended this torture).

She hugged me and began to kiss me affectionately.

These were not the kisses that prelude to fucking: these were the kisses of a person who loves another person without being in a hurry to "finish" with a quick cumshot.

I returned the kisses with my tongue and lips, with my eyes closed.

After a while, she broke contact and looked at me suspiciously.

"And... who would be the dangerous female neighbor who helped you in the kitchen?"

"The mature naturist, Helga, the one... curvy, white-haired one. She told me the secrets of Austrian baking."

"Confess, hubby: did you thank her properly?"

"No, you weren't there and she didn't feel comfortable, even though she joked with her husband about having me lick her white pubic hair. But it was just a joke, I guess. We didn't even touch each other."

"Oh, but I'm back now. We'll do this. I'll write her a message that you'll take to her... tomorrow. Now I just want you to lick my pussy while the magic wand performs the miracle. And remember: it's thanks to the magic wand, you're just a helper!"

These words were beginning to feel humiliating, even though I knew it wasn't entirely true.

Britney had confessed to me long ago that sex toys eventually become boring, there is no substitute for the presence of a human being in love with you.

"You won't need to stick your fingers in my pussy tonight. I just want receive from the magic wand my well deserved sleep.

You don't mind if I order you to put the soft leather cuffs back on, do you?

It's very exciting for me to see your muscular body with restrained arms, it's so good for me, I'll make you wear a full-leather armbinder someday..."

"Wait, what!?"

"Relax, Dean dear... it's not planned for tonight... let's just say that Charlotte is not the only person on this island who has purchased black leather items... but don't worry, Dean, it's not now. Now just handcuffs and magic wands... I don't even want a real orgasm, I just want to relax a little bit..."

Kneeling on the floor, cock fumbling in the air pushing the cage, and wrists struggling against the handcuffs behind my back, I was eating pussy with all the enthusiasm of a desperate man who has been denied food for weeks.

She was lying limply on the bed, with one foot on the mattress and her thighs open: the magic wand was performing the miracle, and my tongue was helping from within but without penetrating so deeply that it hurt.

Her moans were increasingly intense. From the position, I could tell that Britney was watching the two of us both in the ceiling mirror and in the side mirror.

Suddenly, I felt her thighs tighten around my ears. With her hands, she grabbed my hair and forced me to suck harder and harder. "Make me come, Dean! Now! Make me come now! Ooh! Ooh! Now!"

The grip of her hands hurt my neck, but I wouldn't have stopped eating that pussy for anything. After a few long moans, she slumped onto the sheet, in post-orgasmic bliss. I remained still, kneeling on the floor at the edge of the bed.

After a very long time, Britney slowly got up again. She stroked my head and said, "Look in the mirror by the door, Dean, tell me what you see."

"I see a married couple who are deeply happy."

"Yes. I see her, too. And then?"

"I see a beautiful woman who has just had an orgasm, lying on the bed."

"That's right. And then what do you see?"

"I see a naked man who has had no orgasm. I can see that his penis is imprisoned in a metal cage, and I can see that his testicles are blue and swollen. I can see them under the handcuffs that enclose his wrists, so, I gather that they are very swollen."

In my voice, there was no tone of pleading or claiming some right of the Husband. Someone else would have demanded that his wife empty his balls on the first night of honeymoon, but I was not begging or demanding anything.

"Yes, that's exactly right. But where is that man? You told me the woman is lying on the bed, but what position is he in?"

"He is kneeling on the floor of the large bedroom."

"Precisely. And that is where I order you to remain. This is an order from your gentle but somehow cruel Keyholder."

A very strong erection impulse made the head of my cock rise, throbbing.

Britney lifted her head.

Two heads had risen simultaneously.

She now had an imperious tone. And she was using words she had never used before.

I wondered silently if she had read any of the sites this afternoon, or if it was advice from one of the girls, or if she had talked to the naturals.

Britney's voice was serious and stern. Affectionate, but firm.

"On the first night of Honeymoon, the Queen will have the bed to herself, while the submissive is to sleep on the floor, her wrists behind her back. I repeat, this is an order.

Previously, when I was stroking myself with the wand, I was looking in the mirror and this idea suddenly came to me, seeing how appropriate it was for the two of us that I was on the bed and you were on the floor.

And as soon as I thought of that, I immediately felt the orgasm trigger inside me...

Think, Dean! My thought, faster than your tongue, ha!

Now sleep... Tomorrow we will wake up late... we are on vacation. Sleep well, my love."

After a moment, I could hear her snoring softly.

Orgasm is always a good sleeping pill, for those who have it. Unfortunately, I did not have any orgasms, so I could not fall asleep for a long time, uncomfortable on the marble floor. The marble was hard, but not as hard as my cock against the rigid bars of the cage. I finally fell asleep, and that was my unforgettable First Honeymoon Evening.

I was so happy.

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To be continued ASAP (man at work to finish writing "First Night" and "First Morning").

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### Disclaimer. This story can be read without following the whole series. Because I am a bad Author, this series does not proceed chronologically, because I have not yet finished writing the chapter about the party after the wedding.

Each constructive comment encourages writers

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