Losing Control

Showing off Rory to new people was always a challenge, especially to non-kinky people. Sure I have friends who are supportive not in the scene (who don't need to know about my tiny caged clitty!), and friends who are, all that are very supportive of my rather unique lifestyle. But new people can be scary, unpredictable, and terrifying.

This is doubly so for new partners. For a while Rory had been flirting around the community of kinky people near me, meeting some incredible individuals, and getting happily fucked. I always knew where I stood, what they were looking for, and what to expect. I had been a sissy, a piece of furniture, a waitress, a maid. I was even a bunny one evening!

Yet one day I'm at the market and I run into Claire, and I do mean run into. An adorable clutz, with a smile you were instantly addicted to, she was impossible to ignore. Nervously, I asked for her number, fumbling through trying to find the right words. My turn to be an adorable clutz. She just flashed me that irresistible smile, and suddenly I had a date.

Fast forward two weeks and I am head over heels for her. She is cute, funny, teases me in all the right ways, and a complete mess. I couldn't get enough of her, and that small part of me was so terrified of sharing Rory with her. That little voice telling me that it would ruin everything, as it had from time to time in the past. But cuddling with her, seeing that smile as she stared at me, I knew it was worth being vulnerable.

The first time we took things a bit further, I mentioned there was something I needed to share with her first, but wasn't ready quite just yet. Claire looked curious but didn't push me, and was pleasantly surprised with my alternative. Half an hour later, her legs wrapped around my head, breathing heavily through her orgasm, she ran her hand appreciatively through my hair.

I managed to avoid showing her Rory for another few weeks, winning her over with my tongue again and again. However one day she called enough, pointing out my stalling tactic, and demanded my secret. Blushing, that inner fear returning, I agreed, telling her to meet me at my place the next day. To say I was terrified would be an understatement.

The next day I woke up and got Rory ready. Showered and shaved, I went all out in bringing that girly side of myself in full force. Nails polished, freshly cleaned clit, I threw on some yoga pants to clean up my place, mostly to take my mind off of Claire, and that fear of things not going well. All the while my denied clit, caged since meeting her, ached away with need, heedless of the possible pitfalls of the evening.

Closer to dinner, I began to finish getting ready. I chose a 1950's style housewife dress, baby blue with flowery patterns woven throughout, a slim waist and a sprawling, slightly pleated skirt. Nude stockings with a black seam, perfectly placed, sliding into match baby blue heels. Classy, and yet no mistaking the effort that went into it. I wanted her to see me. To see Rory. To see this was something important to me, not a fad, nor a phase. All or nothing, I started dinner, heart beating in my chest.

I felt her knock on the door like a shot to the chest, breathing heavily. Calming myself, preparing for whatever happened, I stood firm in my heels and opened the door. There was Claire, beautiful as ever, wearing a dress of her own, small and black, fitting her like a dream. Barely able to make eye contact, I saw the shock in her face, waiting for anger or disgust. What I wasn't expecting, however, was a hug.

Squealing, smiling as she took me in, she asked me a thousand questions, her hands playfully examining my dress. Blushing, happiness bursting out of me, I tried to answer each one as she threw them at me. That excited look never leaving her eyes, she giggled incessantly, commenting on every aspect of my appearance. Smiling from ear to ear, I told her I was so glad she wasn't mad, to which she responded with another long, tight hug.

We sat and ate dinner together, dresses, heels and all. Claire expertly pried even more information out of me, all of which I was happy to share. I cleaned up dishes and she brought me to my bedroom, wanting to see all my outfits. I watched as she giggled through them all, pointing out what she liked, what she didn't, and what she was going to steal. It was also determined that I had far more shoes than she did.

Sitting down on my bed, she took my face in her hands, thanking me for sharing Rory with her. I blushed, staring into her beautiful eyes, lost in that wonderful smile, only sorry it had taken me so long. For the first time that night, we kissed deeply, leaning into her with need, with happiness. Claire pushed me onto the bed, climbing on top, her dress riding up her thighs. Reaching down, her hands found my clit in the mass of skirts of my dress.

Confused, she sat up, and I blushed. I had forgotten about my clit! I apologised to her, lost in her acceptance of Rory to explain the other side of her. She listened intently as I told her about being denied, how it made me feel girly, submissive, whole. How it helped with my addiction to porn and masturbation, and the feeling of being controlled. I watched as that same excitement returned to her eyes, that endless curiousity.

Can I see it?

Nervously, I nodded, hoping she didn't freak out. I went to lift up my dress but she playfully slapped my hands away. Having me sit up in the bed against the headboard, she teasingly raised the hem up slowly, revealing my stockings and garter. Claire giggled seeing the effect her teasing was having on me, complimenting me on my panties as they came into view. My face burning, unable to meet her gaze, I simply lifted myself a little so she could pull down my panties, revealing my caged clit.

Claire scrunched up my dress at my waist out of the way, her playful demeanor washing away. Worried that she didn't like it or found it weird, I started to say that I didn't' wear it all the time and I could stop if she didn't like it. But she simply placed a finger over my painted lips, hushing me as she examined my clit. She ran a finger along my denied balls, full and big from being locked for so long, a soft moan escaping me.

In a more serious tone, she asked me more questions. With a gulp, I answered as best as I could. How long I had been locked up, how many cages did I have, did it hurt, what happened when I got erections, how did I pee, do I still enjoy using my cock, on and on she went. All the while her eyes never left my clit, her fingers never stopping their exploration. She asked if I could be pleasured in it, my clitty twitching at the very question. I meekly said yes, and told her how I had cum in the past with my clit locked up.

After what seemed like an eternity of her just staring, my poor clit beginning to strain in her grasp, she moved to sit on my lap, grinding my clit underneath her. Taking me in her arms, demanding my attention with her intense stare, she kissed me more deeply than ever before, over and over, until I was a mess of frustration underneath her. She took my chin in her hands, that perfect smile returning to her face.

I love it

I whimpered, asking me if she was sure, knowing it might not be what she signed up for. But she shushed me with another kiss, melting away any concerns I had. Getting worked up, Claire had us both strip out of our dresses, her completely naked with me still in my garters and stockings. Smiling, she returned onto my lap, grinding her bare pussy against my clit. I whimpered, holding her hips as we made out, feeling that aching need, that desperation starting to rise.

Giggling at my noises, she moved down to my clit, gently kissing my full balls. Little kisses, gentle kisses, forcing moan after moan out of me. Running her fingers over my clit, she began to slowly rub, watching me every second as she did, my back arching as my clitty responded to her touch. That smile never leaving her face, she listened to me moan, to me whimper, and eventually, to me beg. Over a month of denial, my clitty couldn't take it anymore, on the verge of exploding.

Hungry eyes met mine, her fingers and hands never stopping. Picking up speed, she rubbed my clit hard, as if to force the cum out of me. It didn't take long under her touch, feeling my orgasm pushing past me. I cried as my clit erupted, cum spurting and leaking from my clit. Claire gasped and squealed, happy with herself that she had made me cum. I quivered through my orgasm, cumming and cumming, my clit twitching in her gentle grip. Both her and I a mess, covered in my release, I sighed a relief, tension from holding so many different things in relieved all in one.

We took a shower to get cleaned up, hands never leaving each other. I got on my knees in the hot shower to show Claire how much I appreciated her this evening. Hands gripping my hair and the wall, she nearly screamed as I licked and sucked an orgasm out of her. Back in bed, entwined together, her hands found my clit once again. Never leaving it, we fell asleep, both exhausted and happy.

After that night my devotion to Claire was complete, wanting her in my life more and more. She happily embraced both sides of myself, even joining in to help pick out Rory outfits. Once she saw that I enjoyed cleaning in my maid outfit, I was quickly marched to her apartment as well, a now weekly chore for Rory. Claire would sit with her feet up giggling as I tidied up the place, being a brat by pointing out things I "missed". My glare at her little game would only make her laugh even more.

But through it all, the one thing that remained her focus more than anything, was my clit. Specifically, my caged clit. She would browse cages all the time, showing me cool and interesting ones, smaller ones. I gulped at some of the things she found, terrified of being made to wear them. Each time we made love, she would gently fondle and hold my clit, enamoured by it. Nothing put a bigger smile on her face than the control she had over me with it in her hands.

One day Claire proposed a change in our relationship. She didn't want me touching my clit anymore. Enjoying it being locked up in its cute little cage, knowing it was something we both wanted, she told me she wanted control of it. I was simply terrified of the eagerness in her eyes, the control in her voice. But she didn't relent, knowing what she wanted. Meekly, knowing there wasn't anything in the world I wouldn't do for her, I granted her request. I gave her control of my caged clit.

The next unlock she found a pair of my handcuffs, binding me to a chair. Giggling in my lap, she blindfolded me, playfully kissing as she took away my eyesight. I felt something cold against my clit making me squeal, but I was simply shushed, Claire watching my clit shrink even further. Satisfied, she took me out of my cage, cleaning and shaving, the coldness returning every so often. Finished, she locked me back up, safe and snug, removing my blindfold, greeting me to a very satisfied smile.

That was the end to my uncaged erections. She wouldn't even let me see it uncaged, wanting me to only view it caged, locked, controlled. My clit knew nothing else but being excited behind its bars, that aching need never leaving me.Claire would always find an excuse to play with my clit, even if it wasn't to cum, relaxing on the couch and gently running fingers along it. I would whimper and moan with frustration, but she would only giggle, knowing it was hers to do with what she would.

When we moved in together, she got me a housewarming gift. Taking off my blindfold, feeling different on my clit, I whined as I saw her gift. My new cage was impossibly small, so tight against my body. Gleefully cheering, loving how it looked on me, she didn't stop touching it all night, playing with her new toy.

In bed, Claire's face resting on my fishnet covered thigh, she gently ran one finger over my twitching clit, staring at the effects it was having on me. She told me how happy this made her, having control over my clit bringing a smile to her face everyday. She loved making me wear her strap-on, riding me and moaning, feeling my caged clit bounce against hers. She loved running her hands through my hair while my tongue worked over her pussy.

Finger never stopping, she told me this was hers now. No longer my clit, no longer my cage. It belonged to her, to do with what she would. I whimpered as she talked, that commanding tone always making me speechless. She made me repeat over and over who's clit it was. Who it belonged to. She smiled, saying I would soon have a tattoo that simply said, "Claire's" above it. In my aching and deprived state, I couldn't tell if she was teasing or not. Her fingered quickened, she told me she wanted her clit to release. She wanted to see it cum. I moaned loudly, her new clit twitching with need. With one word, I knew my fate was sealed. I knew the caged clit between my legs no longer belonged to me. One simple word, and I exploded all over myself, relenting to her complete, utter control.

Cum