Letter from Blaine Vista

Dear Shoeblossom

My wife Tilda was giving me a massage, after taking off my CB-6000 chastity device. She's a real teaser, and loves to rub my cock--a hand job goddess, that's my wife. I was lying on the bed, naked, with this collar on my neck that has cuffs on the sides for my wrists.

"You can't blame me, Norwood, I can't trust you, you know." Tilda always says this gaily. When I married the fastest of my runners when I was coaching track at Ohio State, I thought the former Matilda McPharlane would settle down.

But you can't tame Tilda! Everyone thought she would be so awed by marrying the former Olympic front runner Norwood Neumeister... Apparently there is a novel about a gay front runner, Tilda tells me quite often, which has certainly cut down on my bragging.

But Tilda really works on reducing my ego. She knew how hot I found the girls in their shorts, those long legs...they'd give me appreciative hugs, that kind of thing.

Tilda also knew how many of the young ladies on the team I'd slept with, before she and I settled down. She found my CB-6000 in a drawer, I told her I just played around with it.

But Tilly could tell when she was hanging out with a masochist. One of the reasons I left Ohio State was, Til had locked me in the belt for some time, a LOT of time, and then she'd invited a number of the hotties in the team over for drinks.

God, they looked so good that night! Instead of shorts and sweaty

T-shirts, the girls had been clad in nightclub dresses, as Til had promised to take them drinking on my dime afterwards.

And then she'd basically said to me, "Coach Norwood, if you want out of your belt, you have to choke your chicken in front of the team."

I was so frustrated and horny, and I reluctantly did it, watching the hot girls in their clubwear, those gorgeous long legs, such stockings...heels....awesome.

And it made it difficult to coach them after that! I quit mid-season to take a job with Blaine Vista Community College, which of course didn't pay that well. Til pointed out to me that since we were both trust fund babies, it didn't really matter.

Now I wonder if she'll make me jerk off in front of the girls on THIS team. There are a lot of white-trash bartender types at BVCC, and they all have big hair and are shameless flirts.

Sitting on the bed, Tilda was running her fingers up and down my cock. It had been almost four months since we'd left Ohio State, and a couple months before that when I'd last had an eruption...

In front of my formerly fawning team. I guess I should be lucky I didn't get some kind of harassment charge, right?

So I was lying there, very excited, and believe you me, I am very turned on, being Tilda's chastity slave. She whips my ass with one of my leather belts if I am late to dinner.

"Norwood, I remember when you kept girls late after practice...and what it entailed."

"But Tilda, I'm in a chastity belt! There's no reason for you to suspect--" But she'd ordered me to drop my sweatpants and lie across the ottoman.

Tilda's latest thing was to put a little cock ring with needles in the CB-6000, so I am brought up short when I watch my team run too intensely, oh, those gorgeous, bouncing asses!

Rubbing my poor penis, Tilda pouted. "Oh, I see all these little red marks, Norwood. I'm afraid you've been fantasizing again. Your dick is poking into the needles."

She slapped my cock and I winced. My arms struggled to get loose from the collar but it was tight.

"May-maybe I was excited looking at you, babe."

"That is such bullshit. I almost always let you out of your CB and toy with you in the evenings...that's what makes life worth while."

Tilda likes to watch these awful girly shows, and she plays with my cock during commercials.

But then she asks these detailed questions about the plots to "The Good Wife" or "Grey's Anatomy".

If I can't remember right (being all distracted from her um, handiwork) I go over the ottoman again and the leather belt comes out.

Usually at the end of the evening, I'm re-locked in the CB and I have to spend an hour in the corner, my butt blazing. But you really can't blame me for the way my cute wife creates such estrogen-ic ADD, can you?

And now, watching her French nails tickle and prod my poor pre-cum covered penis, I realize I'm a lot luckier than other men who can only dream of being submissives.

A lot of women aren't into that kind of thing. They want men to do what they want, but what they really want is a man who WANTS to do it.

"Next week I'm going to the beach, I think, Norwood." Her long forefinger tickles the tip of my schlong. "Just for a week or two, you know?"

"You mean our beach house." I had to work like a mother not to get my first wife to win that in the divorce, but I never get to go there. Tilda flies to our place at Cape Hatteras all the time, though.

She meets guys there, and it's really tough for me. The last time I went with her, Til took my chastity belt off, and my dick was seriously poking through my trunks, so I lay on my stomach, and of course she was up and socializing...

Tillie can turn a white bikini into a symphony!

It's best that I just stay here. Tilda will leave me with an assignment like power-washing our deck, that kind of thing. Although I'm locked in the CB, she loves having my runners drop by, to see how I'm doing.

Til will befriend every female athlete on my team, and she always tells them that she doesn't trust me, and so these crazy girls, they drop by, and in a kind of borderline personality way, they tease me and sit on my lap, trying to get the Coach to fool around...

And then, Tilda sometimes will send me films (God knows who takes them) of her sunning topless on the beach. It's not that kind of beach, but the lifeguards don't seem to mind, and more than once I've spotted these guys rubbing suntan oil on her big tits...

I remember once when I went with her to the beach, and Tilda somehow convinced me to do a threesome. I thought it would be with another girl, of course, but it was with a big muscle-bound dude, and Til got me to suck the guy's cock!

This was another time when I had been in chastity for a long, long time.

It's amazing how um, pliable I get, you know?

And of course I couldn't argue with her about going to the beach by herself.

But she was reading my mind as I lay there, my hands looking ridiculous, cuffed to my neck.

"Aaw...you know I need a little break from you, Norrie...I love you dearly, but let's face it, your dick is small and fairly useless, and I get enough tongue from you, don't you think?"

"And you get Rembert, too." I hate my assistant coach, and I know about how he and Tilda have been hiding the sausage for most of the time I've been here in Blaine Vista.

Tilda leaned over and slapped my face, hard. "Don't you guilt me, mister." she said with gritted teeth. "I'm bored to shit in this creepy little town. Rembert is a nice distraction."

I remembered when I confronted Tilda in front of Rembert, and of course Til had given me the same steely eyed look.

"You're telling us how to live?" She'd really been warning me with that, but of course Rembert had worried he would lose his job. He had been the track coach before me at BVCC, and had resented his demotion...

And of course Tilda had ordered me to take down my pants right in front of the assistant coach, who had been quite amused at the sight of the CB-6000.

My first wife kept me in a tight corset that covered my crotch and went up to my nipples...

It prevented any sort of masturbation, but then I found a way to break into it, which led to screwing the girls on the team, and then my marriage breaking up.

But Tilda was much more scientific in keeping me locked!

Now, Tilda noticed I was day dreaming and she yanked out one of my pubic hairs and I yelped, but then nodded gratefully as she resumed toying with my penis.

"If you're a good boy and pay for my trip to your beach house, and no, you can't go...maybe when I get back, I might let you beat your meat...if you're GOOD."

A man can dream, can't he?