I Am Going to Help You Pt. 02

"I am going to help you. Do you trust me?"

Of course, I trusted her. But I wonder if I would have trusted her if I knew what she was up to. And the agony, the wonderful agony, she would be putting me through.

My name is Mark. Mark the Creepy Pervert as my wife Carol frequently calls me. After catching me with my pants down at a party, Carol had enough and got me to agree to give her complete control. For my own good, she claimed. Complete sexual control.

She locked my penis in a chastity cage and kept the key for herself. That was a week ago. I haven't cum since. I haven't even had an erection. Pure torture.

With one exception, Carol has been good about it. She has only used my promise to give her control to keep me under lock and key. Everything else about the past week has been normal. She cooked dinner most nights, I cleaned up after. I go to work in the morning. She kissed me goodbye and hands me a homemade lunch. We had cocktails after ordering in on Wednesday night and then went to bed early, just like every week. We went to be at the same time every night. Perfectly normal.

There was one big exception. No pun intended because it couldn't get big no matter how much I wanted it. That damn cage. It was ever present, and I had frequent, uncomfortable, reminders of that. Carol's morning kiss goodbye? I strained against the cage. Her note saying she loves me in my lunch bag? I strained against the cage. And she knew what she was doing. She made a point of wearing clothes that emphasized her perfect cleavage. She knew my eyes would wander there and see the key hanging between her breasts. And I would strain against the cage.

It was worse when we went to bed. We had always slept naked together. I suggested it early in our dating relationship. Carol agreed, admitting she liked me getting handy as we slept. Or didn't sleep. We kept it up after we married. Maybe we didn't have sex every night, but we stayed close. I almost couldn't fall asleep anymore if I couldn't wrap myself around Carol's soft skin.

Carol insisted that couldn't change just because I was locked up. The first two nights I barely slept. Every time Carol moved, I felt the cage clamping me down. Every time my hands randomly touched her breasts or ass, I played with them, almost instinctively, until I felt the strain of the cage. On the third night, Carol woke up as I did it again.

"That feels nice," she said as she rolled over.

I pulled back, hoping not to get too uncomfortable. She reached out and pulled me back, placing one hand on her breast, and the other on her ass. She kissed me. In the deep, passionate way she always did. Just the right combination of pure uncorrupted love and pure unbridled lust. The kind of kiss that would have gotten me to do anything to be inside her. If I wasn't locked up and unable.

I reached for the key and broke our kiss just enough to whisper, "Just let me get this..."

"No, silly," Carol giggled and rolled onto her back and guided my head between her legs. "I can't trust you one bit, can I?"

"Carol, please?"

"Oh, yes" she sighed. "Oh baby, yes please!"

'Will you unlock me?"

She slid the key from between her breasts, slowly dragging it up to her mouth. She kissed it and said "No. Not yet. Eat me out and let me get some sleep."

I did, hoping she would change her mind. I don't claim to be the world's most cunning linguist, but Carol has taught me to do what she needed me to do. At least passably. But true to her word, she rolled over and went back to sleep when she came a second time. I was left hanging. And locked.

The next night was Wednesday, our stay-at-home date night. Before I was locked up, we would frequently just go at it on any old night. On Wednesdays, we got tipsy and made a point of it. I came home a little late that day and she was waiting. In a tight little dress with her cleavage surrounding my key. She kissed me and offered me a drink.

"Ready for tonight?" she cooed.