One Glass of Wine, Revisited

"There, that should keep you quiet," she said with triumph. She smiled and whacked his chastity device again.

He looked at her pleadingly and said, "Mmm, mmf, rmf!"

The book was good enough that she read for two hours, finishing it up with rapidly turned final pages. The book slammed shut in her hands and she glanced toward David, but he was gone. She made herself a cup of tea and went searching for him. He sure would not have gone far, she chuckled.

She found him watching the Playboy Channel on the TV in his "man cave".

"Well, you're a brute for punishment aren't you?" she laughed. "Come over here."

His hood had shifted slightly so that he had to tilt his head forward a bit to see where he was going, but he padded over to her on the carpet, wondering what was next.

"Time for a movie," she said, "a chick flick tonight, nothing blowing up, no stupid Monty Python stuff, just a nice reflective story of love. Sounds sweet doesn't it?"

She got on her knees in front of him and started to massage his testicles while she pressed her mouth against the chastity cage. Her tongue flicked between the bars of the cage at the end of his penis. He started to thrust and even whimper, as he was helpless in aiding his own orgasm. That idea was premature however. She added leather cuffs to his ankles and locked them on, connecting them with a short chain which allowed geisha-length steps. He bowed his head in submission. That gave her another delightful idea. She wanted none of that bowed head stuff!

The posture collar was made of very thick, rigid leather and was flared to fit the base of the head to the top of the shoulders. She snugged it up tightly and inserted the lock, clicking it shut.

He whined like a puppy and made some unintelligible requests, probably for either orgasm or release, but she had other plans, plans that did not include him. So she plunked him on the leather sofa and dialed in "The Bridges of Madison County".

He sat beside her, whimpering at first, and then he appeared to resign himself to the fact that this was her arrangement, not his, and there was nothing he could do about it. He couldn't move; he couldn't leave. He simply had to watch the movie and wait for her next move.

David wallowed in sub-space, a valley of darkness and the unknown, hallucinations behind every rock, every tree as he closed his eyes and wondered what she would do to him later. It might be everything; it might be nothing. The lack of control excited him beyond sanity, and he desired only what she would give him, nothing or all.

Sandy watched him occasionally. There was occasional sympathy for his predicament, but she recovered her reason, as in her research on his fetishes, she had learned that the more he was subjected to such restraint, the more enjoyment he gained from it. She was tired of asking why, and to be quite frank, so was he. It was what it was. And they got what they both wanted, bizarre as it seemed. And nobody had to know. Nobody but the doctor, and he really had not an inkling of the extent of this lifestyle.

The click of that last lock, the one for his collar, had seemed like an eternity ago to David. He twitched and seemed to wake up. Had he been watching he movie or had he been asleep? How long had it been, he wondered? He moved and felt the anal plug shift again. The TV was off. He strained to hear something other than his heartbeat and breathing, anything. But there was nothing. He wondered where Sandy was. There was no sound as far as he could tell. He rotated his body on top of the anal plug in a desperate futility. There had to be a reason to be trussed like this for so long, but she had not offered anything.

Sandy watched him with amusement from behind the pool table where she had let the dogs go out for their bathroom break. The movie was over and all she could think about now was sleep. It had been a long week, and she needed to recharge.

Sandy had a final plan which would make each of them happy. She had no desire for sex tonight, so a perfect solution had been engineered in her mind. In the bedroom, she cinched up and locked a leather belt about 8 inches broad around his body squeezing his upper arms to his side. Then she unlocked his wrist restraints so that he could use his forearms and hands. He immediately tried to manipulate himself within the chastity device, in utter futility.

Sandy watched, enthralled. It was both disgusting and amazing. How did a person get such fetishes?

She smiled and hugged his still restrained body and said, "I'm tired honey. I'm going to lock the blindfold on now and remove your gag. Can't have you suffocating in the night, can I?"

After he was sightless and the gag was removed he asked, "Goddess, please, can't I have an orgasm and get out of this stuff?"

"No, maybe next week, maybe next month," was all she said.

"Oh Jesus!" he exclaimed, "Please!"

She slapped his cage and said sharply, "Don't whine, or it will be next year!"

"Oh, Jesus, Oh Jesus!" was all that he could say as she led him to the bed and laid him down trussed from toe to head, hands at his genitals, but useless in their ability to masturbate. The cage was impenetrable.

Sandy yawned and donned her favorite night dress, opened the bedroom window for fresh air and laid herself down as well. She hugged him briefly but fondled his testicles and caged penis for quite some time before she turned over to sleep.

As she knew would happen, he was asleep before she was, and she smiled in realization that each of them had been satisfied in very odd ways this evening. The relationship was bizarre and wonderful, and she thought they should go for a bike ride tomorrow morning once she removed his restraints.

Then she herself drifted off in a shameless, dreamless sleep..