Chaste Honeymoon: Why a Metal Cage?

Chaste Honeymoon: Why A Metal Cage?

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### Disclaimer. This is completely imaginary fiction. All the characters are over 18 years old. Dean e Britney sono in viaggio di nozze, ma non è necessario leggere gli episodi precedenti della serie "Here Comes The Bride (Only)" https://www.literotica.com/series/se/here-comes-the-bride-only.. English is not my mother tongue, forgive my mistakes.###

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Chapter 1. Why metal?

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"May I ask why your husband wears a metal cage?" asked a very young girl in a shy voice.

My wife Britney was lying beside me, naked, wearing only her wide-brimmed hat and sunglasses. And the key, which hung from her slender ankle.

While she was at least partially clothed, I was completely naked. CFNM: It was one of the main rules of our Chaste Honeymoon (and then it would be for the duration of our long marital cohabitation). She was always wearing something, to reiterate at all times that she was free. I, on the other hand, always had to be naked, to remind both me and those who met us that I was her submissive husband.

On that morning at the naturist beach, I was certainly not the only naked man. But while the others were simply naked (and free to be as naked as they wished), I was naked with a metal cage clutching my testicles and penis, preventing any erection and forcing the tip to bow perpetually before the Owner of the key to my lock. In addition, I had my wrists cuffed behind my back with a pair of padded leather manacles, comfortable but impossible to open without the key. Because the sun was beating down, my wife had slathered sunscreen on me, but to keep the heat from scorching the metal, she had allowed me to spend most of my time under the umbrella. However, the touch of her hands, with the slippery, soft cream, had turned me on so much, and a large drop of precum was motionless on the tip of the cage, amplifying my humiliation in front of everyone.

The girl coughed to get my wife's attention. "If I'm not too rude, I'd like to ask, ma'am -- how come your husband wears a metal cage? Doesn't he risk getting red-hot in the hot sun?"

My wife smiled. "Good morning, kind young lady! You look very young, may I ask how old you are?"

"Oh! I am nineteen years old, ma'am! I am here on vacation with my parents, we have been a naturist family for generations. I didn't want to disturb your rest, if my question is too personal or intimate, I won't ask anymore..."

"But no, dear, it's just that you look so young, you don't even have a wrinkle! Allow me to make introductions as one does among well-behaved people. I'm Britney and this is my husband, Dean, nicknamed Dean the Paladin."

"Paladin?"

"Well, it's partly a nickname due to a role-playing game we used to play with friends, Dungeons and Dragons...but partly it's because his penis is locked up inside this shiny armor, 24/7."

"Oh! Geez, ma'am, 24 hours a day! You force him to sleep with the cage on?!"

Britney smiled with a look full of serene joy. "I don't force him, dear, he's the one asking for it. He begs me to keep him locked up. But don't call me "ma'am", it makes me feel so old!"

"But I saw the ring on your finger!"

"Of course, I am a married woman, but in my heart, I still feel like a maiden."

"I see."

"Call me Britney. You see, the metal cage has the serious drawback that it is likely to get hot in the sun. This is quite a problem, especially at a sun-filled resort like this: and so we try to stay in the shade of the trees, or the umbrellas at the bar. For this Chaste Honeymoon of ours, the girls gave us many different devices: one completely flat, one almost upright, and one made of Surgical Nylon, which is durable but super light, covering his glans like an eggshell, without getting too hot.

But my favorite is this metal one, partly because I know that's the one he likes best. And because it's very light, it doesn't weigh much on him--other cages need a leather belt to hold them in place, but this one doesn't. This one is perfect, almost magical.

You should know, Greta, that before this metal cage, Dean had purchased a silicone cage.

Are you curious about this narrative, dear? And would you like to know more about our Casta Honeymoon?"

"Yes, of course!" chortled Greta enthusiastically.

Britney raised her torso and with her finger beckoned me to kneel.

I obeyed without hesitation.

The girl looked at me with wide eyes.

"What is your name, dear?"

"My name is Greta... Britney."

"Does it bother you to see a married couple exchanging kisses in public?"

"No, go ahead."

"What if I ordered my husband to kiss my chest while I tell you about the cage affair, would that be embarrassing to you?"

"No, no problem--for me! But maybe it's a problem -- for him!" chirped Greta, hinting with her eyes at the drop of precum hanging from my cage.

"Oh! Don't worry about him! His swollen blue balls have been increasing in swell since a few weeks before the wedding -- including a bachelor party where he was provoked by a dozen bridesmaids. And during the wedding, and even the night after, and every Honeymoon day to this day."

I nodded to reassure Greta that I was consenting and that it was okay.

With one hand, Britney attracted my head to her right nipple. Meanwhile, she chatted quietly with her new friend, as if nothing important was happening.

"You see, the idea of male forced chastity had come to him first. It was Dean who proposed me to be the keyholder of his lock because that was his desire: the thing he craved most.

For a physical problem, I don't get much pleasure during vaginal penetration--I'm not saying I suffer, however, it is not my favorite sexual activity, that is. And by a lucky combination, he doesn't experience much pleasure either -- ha, ha! In these weeks, he doesn't experience any pleasure at all. But let's say in the months leading up to the wedding, we made love a few times, but neither of us liked it very much. And I never reached orgasm... He, like all males, would cum without difficulty, but it was very complicated for me."

Greta nodded without interrupting. In that position, I could see her badly, but the shadow of her on the floor had nodded.

"As you can see, Dean is very skilled with his tongue. Dean dear, please turn around and dress this girl: it is not polite for you to show her your back, and your naked ass! Give her a good look at the little cage and the huge blue balls."

I turned around, slowly, and spread my thighs so that Greta could see my predicament. My wife's hand was holding the back of my neck near her nipple, but in that position, my eyes could see that Greta's pussy was almost completely exposed amidst very short trimmed pubic hair. The clitoris, proudly, protruded out of her labia, glistening with humor. With her lips tight and tense, Greta did not speak, perhaps trying to hide her excitement.

My wife, on the other hand, showed a broad smile. With her other hand Britney picked up the drop of precum, then she offered it in front of my mouth.

I licked my wife's fingers, swallowing my precum.

I could see that Greta was holding her breath.

My wife stood up, wearing her hat and glasses. With that gesture, she had pushed my nipples away from my mouth. She caressed the back of my neck forcing me to kiss the hip bone: close to the pussy, yet so far away!

I would kiss but now and then a badly stifled grunt would come out of my throat, testifying to my frustration and desire. With each grunt, Britney seemed even more joyful, and almost more aroused precisely because I could not cum.

"You see, Greta dear, most males just want to cum as on as fast as they can. YOU don't know it, but your peers have competitions to see who can cum the fastest - absurd, isn't it? They don't understand that premature ejaculation is the opposite of what they need.

In fact, in my personal opinion, if a man remains denied under lock and key for a week or two, then the erection is more intense and lasting, the stamina is greater, and even the amount of semen ejaculated I would say... I don't know for sure because before I see him, usually, he has already swallowed it all... You confirm, Dean dear?"

I nodded. Duration, Stamina, and increased amount of semen. Maybe only in my case, I don't claim it's a universal rule for all males. It used to happen that way for me. And I use the verb in the past tense because it had been a few weeks since my last cumshot, unfortunately.

"My Dean was different from other men--I am not saying that he is the only one because sales figures certify that every year males buy tens of thousands of chastity devices, either the cheaper ones to play a joke on a friend or those customized with the customer's choice of engravings. Some of the buyers are gay, of course since 1999, but most are heterosexual husbands who wish to grant their wives control over their erections.

Dean had bought a silicone cage-it was perfect. Short, just the right size to contain his penis in its flaccid condition. Oh, don't get me wrong: my husband has an average-sized penis, with a perfectly acceptable erection, and I'm sure we'll have children soon if the heavens allow...I hope to have a boy and a girl."

[Spoiler. A few months later I impregnated Britney, and the following year we would return to the resort for our first anniversary, with her in full pregnancy. But that's another story. Two children, a boy, and a girl, and a decades-long cohabitation, even as empty nesters, always caged. Another spoiler, Britney never cuckolded or cheated me in all my lifetime].

When Britney declared that she wanted to have two children, she instinctively caressed her belly with her other hand, and without meaning to, hit my lip with her finger.

"Oh, sorry, Dean dear! Did I hurt you?"

"Oh! But then you are not a sadistic woman!" exclaimed Greta.

"Me, sadistic? No, not at all. Well, I can give him a spanking now and then, but it's not my main obsession... I'm aware that some choices I make cause Dean pain and frustration, but he's always willing, and he has two safe words for just in case."

"Understood."

"As I was saying, he had bought a silicone cage. He was all happy because it was perfect in both length (short length) and diameter. He showed it to me: I was reluctant at first, but then, seeing that he was so profoundly happy, I gradually agreed to set aside reluctance and accept what at first was just a toy. A sex toy for short denial sessions, nothing more. And then..."

"and then what? Tell me more!"

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Chapter 2. "Tell me more!"

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Britney with her hand pushed my neck toward her pussy. Softly, but firmly.

My nose was in front of her clit.

Greta did not pull away.

Britney smiled.

"You seem very excited, girl. I'll tell you the rest of the story, but first, you have to tell me if you have a boyfriend who makes you happy."

"Um...yes and no...I have a boyfriend, but he doesn't make me happy, no. For example, he didn't want to come on vacation with my parents, because he says Naturism is wrong. E..."

"E..."

"And then he never goes down there. He says his favorite superhero is Batman and I don't know what movie, Batman says he doesn't lick pussy. Maybe Catwoman's Pussycat, I don't know exactly. And he states that for that reason he doesn't-"

"I see."

"Are you kidding me? That's my line!"

"No, I understand. I too have had a boyfriend or two lick my pussy for only a few seconds and then impale me with his hasty hard cock while I was still dry. Then each of them would cum quickly, two pumps champs, never caring if I had reached orgasm or not. And the answer was always: no.

Then I met Dean, and he was always so forthcoming with me- even before I wore the cage. We experimented with vaginal penetration, but after he would lick for a very long time... he's very skilled."

Greta's eyes glistened, just as the clitoris protruded outside the labia glistened.

My wife gestured with her hand. Greta did not understand what she meant, but I did: she meant, "Today I feel like a generous woman."

Britney sighed then said in a soft voice, "I get the feeling you need me to impress my husband on you for some quality time, girl."

"What? No! I could never ruin a couple's harmony during Honeymoon!"

"Chaste Honeymoon, dear. My husband will be left with handcuffs on his wrists and the cage locked. I will only lend you his mouth and tongue. You'll see that he'll be able to make you orgasm that way too; he's skilled."

"But I don't want him to cheat on you with me!"

"It's not cheating if I'm the one ordering him to do it, and if I'm there to watch what he does, and if all the people involved are of age and consenting. What do you say, Dean dear? Do you want to utter one of your safe words to avoid this situation?"

It was the first time since the beginning of our meeting that my wife asked me to speak. Usually, Britney does not want me to speak, because, as she likes to say, my mouth is more useful in other ways.

With a matter-of-fact voice I said, "It would be a great honor for me, to obey my Owner's orders, and make every effort to give the girl present an orgasm as part of a new friendship."

Greta was enraptured. "Uh, how well you trained him!"

Britney shook her head, "I didn't train him. He has always been this way. I just go along with his desire to be submissive. But, listen to me, Greta: I can't order my husband to lick your pussy here at the pool. Do you want us to go to your apartment, or ours?"

"I am on vacation with my parents-they are open-minded, but maybe..."

"I see. Ah! I understand. We'll go to our apartment. It's very close: the first fenced garden along the wet sand path, after the crossroads."

My wife took Greta by the hand and walked unhesitatingly down the path. I was to follow her, like a dog follows its master, two steps behind.

The two young women exhibited round, firm ass cheeks.

With each step, I admired the fine line of the ankles, the marble fullness of the buttocks, and the double dimples in the middle of the lower back. If I hadn't had a metal cage around my penis, I would have had a volcanic erection: perhaps I might have even cum, just watching the gait of two naked young women. But instead, I had asked my wife to keep the key to my lock aside, and so I walked slowly, with a full cock and swollen balls.

In front of me, I could hear my wife's voice recounting the vicissitudes of my first silicone cage.

"He had shown me the first silicone cage: it was black, very sleek, and contained him like a shell. The first few times it had been just short play sessions, as if it were just a sex toy: but then it had become a real way of life.

However, one day, when we were not yet living together, he came to my house with a strange face.

The silicone cage had broken! He had come in all sad, saying that the testicular ring had broken! It appeared as corroded."

"Corroded? How is that possible?"

"Well, often these items travel in the cargo holds of airplanes, and the cargo hold is not air-conditioned, therefore, the luggage is subjected to severe temperature changes. Sometimes the silicone freezes, literally, and that changes the chemical composition of the materials and, ultimately, the durability."

Britney stopped in the middle of the wet sand path. She took Greta's hands. Two steps further back, I froze frozen, looking at these two young women, completely naked (except for a wide hat), as beautiful as ancient Greek statues.

"Believe me, Greta. I thought he was telling me 'This is a sign of destiny, the breaking of the ring is to indicate that the Universe does not want me to wear this device, Mother Nature does not want.' Instead, do you know what he said to me? He said, "Britney, I feel naked without my cage, I feel unprotected and unsafe! Please help me buy a metal cage, I don't want to experience this feeling ever again!" So I hugged him and consoled him because he was crying more than Linus when he lost his blanket (actually, his mother had put it in the washing machine)."

I was still. I thought Greta would laugh at me. Instead, Greta slipped her fingers from my wife's hands, hugged me, and whispered, "I'm sorry you suffered, Dean. I understand that you are a good boy and it is not fair that your silicone cage broke."

I felt her nipples like two pencils pressed against my chest.

Her tits were firm, sweet, and immature as only a nineteen-year-old girl can be.

I longed to be able to touch them with my hands, but my wrists were cuffed and my cock was under lock and key!

My heart was beating wildly, pumping blood toward my penis to support an erection as straight as a baseball bat. But alas, the curved bars of the cage were forcing the flesh of the penis in that downward bow, and I could do nothing but stand still in my frustration.

Greta took me by the hand and accompanied me, following my wife through our fenced garden.

After opening the front door, my wife stopped. Britney spread her legs wide, letting the doorposts touch the ankle bone, and pushed her ass cheeks back.

"Get into this position, dear, while I sit in my chair. You can also hold on to the door frame with your hands if you like, or you can spread your cheeks apart to allow Dean's tongue easier access to your rosebud."

"Are you serious?"

"What a sure thing! My husband is a Rimjob artist."

"OMG! I washed first, but I didn't think...damn...what if he sucks at licking me? My boyfriend never even kissed me back there..."

Britney entered the house shaking her hands in disapproval. "A boyfriend who doesn't perform oral sex doesn't deserve the title of boyfriend. This is just my humble opinion, you can stay on your hill. But at least taste--my husband is at your complete disposal, behind, and then in front, whenever you want."

I was behind, motionless and silent. No one had asked my opinion. My mouth was to be used for something more useful than talking.

Greta mimicked the obscene pose exhibited by my wife. It was obvious that all passersby would see me, but her face was hidden in the darkness, and no one could recognize her. I guess someone could imagine that I was just a gentle submissive husband licking his beloved wife's buttocks.

I knelt. In front of my face were the 19-year-old's firm buttocks.

Greta's fingers spread the cleft between her buttocks, giving me a perfect view of the target. I began with small kisses and soft licks, which made her gasp.

Greta kept saying, "OMG, how embarrassing, this has never happened to me, OMG," but she did not pull away or give the slightest sign that she wanted to stop.

I began darting my tongue deeper and deeper. Her moans were increasing my arousal. The penis was futilely trying to gain an erection, but the curved bars forced it to remain motionless, bowing in a humiliating way.

Inside the bedroom, I heard the sound of the magic wand. Britney was toying with it as she watched how obedient I was.

Greta had stopped being embarrassed and was pushing my face between her buttocks, clutching my hair with her right hand. I guess her left hand was resting on the doorframe. She moaned and yelped as if she was about to orgasm, which seemed impossible, but encouraged me to push even deeper.

Then, suddenly, Greta stepped forward, sliding away from my protruding tongue.

I waited on my knees until she said, "Come!"

Then Greta giggled, like a happy child, and said, "I stand corrected: you can't come, ha, ha! But reach the side of the bed on your knees: I will welcome you with open arms!"

It was not her arms that were waiting wide open, but her thighs. With two fingers, she spread her labia, allowing her clitoris to protrude proudly and proudly.

I needed no further commands. On my knees, painfully dragging my swollen blue balls, I reached the bed and began to lick and kiss her, starting from mid-thigh and leaving no area of skin without a kiss or lick.