She Said Yes - A Covid-19 Story Ch. 09

"Yes, Ma'am. Um. No Ma'am. I don't understand."

"Something about this fantasy involving Julie has led to impulsive behavior. Somehow you impulsively decided the right thing to do was to pull out your prick and work it to an erection in the middle of the living room even after 24 hours of almost continuous hedonism. While an impressive feat, it makes one wonder about the power of this fantasy and its connection to your impulsivity. Writing it out will help us understand the ramifications of your fantasy resulting in your impulsive behavior."

"You want me to write out my fantasy in detail?"

"Yes, we know the summary, Julie and a blow job, but why the living room, why the sofa? There is something missing from the plot. I'm thinking a detailed and specific narrative retelling of your fantasy will help with understanding."

"I'm not sure I can do it. You want an essay describing what's in my imagination?"

"Yes, I want a narrative essay detailing, with some specificity, the fantasy which was active in your imagination while you were masturbating in the living room."

"I can try. I don't get why, but if you want it..."

"No, no, not for me. The essay is a means to an end. Our project is dealing with impulsive behavior and it seems this fantasy is a trigger. So, having a detailed description will help us deal with an issue we are working on together."

"OK, OK, I get it. I'll do my best. I'm not a great writer, but I'll try."

"And, I would like your new cage left out here where it is visible, unless you are wearing it. I wouldn't want it hidden away in one of your drawers. It is so well made; we should be able to enjoy it."

"Yes, Ma'am."

Amanda left to do work in her office. I watched her go. She is a lovely woman. I'm amazed she is still here with me with all my indecent thoughts. I really appreciate that she is willing to help me with my impulsiveness.

Picking up the cock cage, I wonder what it would feel like to wear this thing. As I turn it over in my hand, I wonder about giving Amanda the key. This cage is strong, well made, invincible, inescapable. Amanda is purposeful, strong, dominant and confident. Once I freely choose to give her this key, I will no longer be free to choose. I will have lost the choice to be unlocked. But I will have gained the opportunity to learn what it means to intentionally and purposefully submit. I should not give her the key impulsively. Yet, it seems so formidable, so awesome, so right for Amanda to have this key. Giving her the key would represent my commitment to her.

But first there was the "little matter." I wrote an essay that was my fantasy. It took hours. I'd remember details and have to fit them in. I re-wrote the thing at least four times.

My essay:

"A Fantasy: Amanda, Julie and me"

It began as we watched "The Crown." We were together, entwined, the three of us, on the sofa.

Well, that's not entirely true. It began while we were making the video of Amanda using urethral sounds and Julie getting me ready.

Well, it actually began when Julie licked her lips as if she enjoyed the taste of me. She tasted me and it was good.

I know it's not true. I know it's a fantasy, but it's possible, isn't it? It's possible Julie would do what she otherwise would not if Amanda gave her permission, if Amanda told her to do it. Julie is an amazing woman. I respect her confidence, her clarity, and, indeed, her open and honest sexuality. And she would do anything for Amanda. Would she do me for Amanda?

My fantasy begins on the sofa. Julie and I next to Amanda, touching her, enveloped by her. It begins with Amanda in charge. It begins with Julie's lips.

We are on the sofa together. At Amanda's instruction, I have joined Julie and Amanda on the couch after having eaten some pizza.

"You were hungry," says Amanda, "You ate fast. Join us here." I follow Amanda's instruction, joining the coil of female flesh, an interloper, stiff, uncomfortable.

"Julie is hungry too," she said. "I know Julie wants to finish what she started this afternoon."

"Now?"

"Yes, now, dear. Like we discussed."

I had no idea what they were talking about. I thought maybe Julie was going to get up to make something in the kitchen for herself. I felt bad. I ate all the leftover pizza. There was nothing left for Julie. But she followed Amanda's instruction.

Fact is, I did not want anyone to move. Everything about this moment was perfect. I had a place here, in Amanda's arms, Julie close. It was good. I was beginning to relax into the moment. Fantasy and reality are hard to pull apart.

Julie and I were close, our heads on Amanda's chest. Julie's hand on my cheek, caressing my temple with her thumb. My hand on Julie's side, feeling the softness of her breast against my wrist. But, at Amanda's instruction, Julie moved.

She leaned across Amanda and kissed me. I don't mean a chaste kiss on the forehead; I mean she kissed me full on the mouth. She pulled me closer, hand on the back of my neck, and kissed me deeply. Her lips pressed my lips. Her tongue insisted my teeth open. She entered me. I met her, yielded to her, closing my eyes. She was drinking me in, wet, and alive, and ardent.

My head was on Amanda's breast, my hand enjoyed Julie's. I squeezed Amanda with my arm at her back. She leaned in so her head touched mine. Julie's tongue danced with mine. Three of us moving in unison. Amanda hugged us both. "It's time," she said.

When she let go, Julie leaned back and touched my lips with her finger. I cannot adequately express my feelings. Fantasy so real, so lucid. Looking directly into Julie's eyes, I knew the warmth of her body with one hand, Amanda's with the other.

In this fantastic moment, Julie got up. Amanda shifted away from me. I pulled my hand from behind her back and moved my leg off of hers. Julie did not go to the kitchen as expected. Instead, she knelt on pillows in front of me and began pulling my shorts down from the front.

I only put on these shorts to get from my bedroom to the bath. I had not bothered to put on underwear. Not understanding what was happening, I instinctively grabbed the waistband to prevent her from discovering my nakedness. Amanda touched my wrist, "Shush! Be still. Julie wants more of what she tasted. Don't you, Julie?"

I let go and Julie pulled the shorts down revealing my semi-erect cock. She didn't answer Amanda, but instead started swirling her tongue around the head of my prick. What was semi-erect responded by becoming hard. For the second time today, her mouth was on my cock, a picture I shall never forget from the first time it happened.

Julie alternated between intense cock sucking and gentle teasing. Amanda pressed on Julie's head. More and more of my prick was forced into Julie's mouth until her nose was right up against my body. I felt her throat constrict around my cockhead. She gagged and pulled back.

Julie paused to get her breath as she pulled my shorts father down. I lifted my hips. She pulled them down to my ankles. I just waited, my hands at my sides, not knowing what to do. Amanda was just watching. Julie pulled on my thighs to get me to slide further down on the couch. Now my hips were near the edge of the seat.

Julie looked up with a knowing smile pushing my knees apart. I felt her tongue glide all the way up my inner thigh, her hair obscuring her face. With one hand she held my prick up out of the way as she kissed my balls. She took them into her mouth, gently sucking one in, pushing it out with her tongue, then the other, sometimes holding both. She shook her head, tugging on warm, wet balls. Her tongue pressing, separating, dividing them, her face partly hidden behind my erection.

While sucking my balls, she caressed the head of my prick with her fingers. I could see her eyes, looking up at me from behind my cock. I held onto my thighs. Her hand slid gently up and down, fingers caressing skin stretched tight by the fullness of an unconstrained erection.

Amanda put her hand on my throat. I felt the pressure build as she closed fingers and thumb on the sides of my neck. I looked up into Amanda's eyes. Julie took to sucking my cock hard. I felt the motion of her head; I felt faint. Everything fell away from me save Amanda at my neck and Julie at my prick. I was going to succumb to competing pressure to orgasm and to black out. I saw nothing but Amanda's eyes, bright, wide. I arched my back. Both Amanda and Julie let go.

I took a deep breath. "Pretty amazing, isn't it?" Amanda was close to me, filling my view. I saw nothing save her brown eyes. Julie was back to sucking my balls, gently stroking my cock. "Alright Julie, he's been drained twice today. Do you think you can finish him off once more?

"Oh, let me at him. Shouldn't take too long." Julie paused long enough to hold her hair back with a hairband. Like a fighter preparing for a match, she was ready. I silently vowed to resist and not give in.

In fact, it didn't take her long. Julie worked my prick over, deep throating then sucking. Her head bobbed up and down. She twisted and rubbed with her hands. I tried not to climax. I really wanted to win, to watch Julie work my cock for ever. But I couldn't resist her. I couldn't stop her. Julie sucked the life right out of my prick.

There was this long pause, my penis in Julie's mouth; her lips sealed about my throbbing cock. My orgasm complete, my prick at rest, she stood up; the victor looking down at her prey. She leaned down, held my head and kissed me like before. This time, however, with her tongue I received a load of my own ejaculate and her saliva. "Come on, don't be selfish. Give it back to me." I let her suck it out of my mouth. Again she kissed me deeply, forcing it back onto my tongue. It felt like there was even more than before.

Amanda said, "Swallow." I did as I was told.

That's where my fantasy ends, with me swallowing my cum. It doesn't go any farther.

It begins on the sofa. It begins with Amanda in charge. It begins with Julie's lips and tongue. It ends where it always ends, with just me and my cum.

The End

Amanda read my essay in silence. We were at the table. "I must say that was more graphic than expected."

"You asked for details."

"Yes, but when you have spoken before about the reason for your masturbation, it has always been a D/s relationship: kneeling at my feet, over my knee, submitting. This is different. Not bad, just different. Still D/s, but different."

I worried that I had gone too far, that something had changed, that I should take it back. "I'm sorry. This is not what you wanted. I can take it back, write another, destroy this one."

"No, no, this tells the truth. We won't destroy it. We'll honor it."

That didn't sound good. But Amanda asked for a detailed and specific narrative of my fantasy. It wasn't my fault. Julie didn't have to suck my cock to get me ready for the video. She's the one that put that image in my head. I'm just a guy who can't say no, especially to a fantasy woman.

Besides, what does she mean by 'honoring it' anyway. Amanda is so perfect. Just look at her, holding my essay, re-reading it. I should kneel and kiss the floor where her feet have been. I want to, I need to, I should kneel like every time I committed to chastity for another day.

She bought the new chastity cage for me. I should try it on, to see how it feels, to see if it fits. I like it already. It seems so real, bright steel, not breakable plastic. There would be no option. My prick would be secure, imprisoned, no escape, no way to break out. My fantasy and the reality of Amanda locked together in steel. She is so good to me, and all I have for her is my condo, a mere shelter from a pandemic.

Oh, oh, she is finished reading my essay a second time. She is looking at me. I really should get down on my knees. It would be so much easier, my face to the floor. She's still looking at me. I have to do something. I've kissed her toes many times before. It feels right when I do.

I fell to my knees, pushing the chair out from behind me. It made a noise. I put my forehead on the floor right in front of her toes. She was barefoot. The dark red polish on the big toe of her right foot was chipped.

Wait, she's facing me. It's her left foot. I kissed the toenail where it was chipped. She just watched, but then spoke, "Are you done? Get up. We need to talk."

I pulled my chair back into position. I sat, knees touching, my hands in hers. "It appears we are regressing, not moving ahead with impulse control. Why were you kissing my feet just now? Did I ask you to kiss me? Did I give permission? Did you have a plan? What were you trying to accomplish?"

There was a long pause. "Your toenail polish is chipped," I answered.

"So, you were going to make it better by kneeling and kissing it?"

I was silent. Amanda squeezed my hands making me look up into her eyes. "You had an impulse to kneel before me and you acted on that impulse without considering whether I wanted you to or not. Honestly, I don't know what to do with you. If we didn't have an agreement that forbids free sessions between us, I might try corporal punishment. But, you see, I can resist the impulse to cane your backside bloody."

"Yes, Ma'am. Thank you, Ma'am." I looked down.

Amanda squeezed my hands again. I looked up. "I could, instead, have Julie do it. She might enjoy beating your ass. Technically, that would not break our agreement." Amanda was joking, I could tell by the sound of her voice, and her laugh.

"Whatever you decide, Ma'am."

"No, no, no. Stop it. I think we should table our discussion and resume later. I still have a lot of video editing and posting to do. You probably want to try on that steel cage and see if it fits. Let me know how it goes. We can talk this evening and make a plan for how to move forward to our goal."

Amanda took my essay with her. I went back to my room and tried on the cage. As expected, it fit perfectly. Except for its weight, I hardly knew it was on. I tried pulling out. Even in the unlikely event I could get my prick out, there was no way my balls would follow. Clearly, this was designed for long term use. It was not a toy.

I took a shower wearing it. The open bars allowed a pretty good soaping and rinse. I toweled as dry as I could and finished with a hair dryer on low. The heat under my balls felt really nice. I've never done that before. I wonder whether blowing warm air on my balls would complement a slow stroke wank. Wouldn't want it too hot. I'll file this idea away for later experimentation.

I tried on the cage several times over the next few days. When I wasn't wearing it, I cleaned it thoroughly and put it next to the TV for all to see. Julie picked it up and examined it. "This looks serious," she said.

For days now, I haven't been able to get Julie out of my mind. Amanda's joke, that she might have Julie punish me, has become like an earworm, a tune that won't let go: a fantasy paddling from Julie might be followed by a soothing aftercare blowjob. Of course, Amanda remains in charge of both. I think it is really important to be able to masturbate while fantasizing about Julie. Without jerking off, I have no idea how I would be able stop the fantasy, to end the tune playing in my head.

Since our video, having dinner with Julie has become our norm. The three of us eat together in the early afternoon, usually about 1:30. Amanda and sometimes Julie work in the evenings. I'm often left on my own. With no TV in my room, I admit to hours pondering my awe of Amanda and my fantasies of Julie. I wonder what it would be like over her knee. I know what it's like to be over Amanda's.

By the way, you have to be really careful with the hair dryer. It can get hot really quickly. You can burn yourself or the bed if you're not careful. But warm air blowing on the scrotum from between the legs causes the testicles to descend. And this, plus the breeze, is excellent paired with a long, slow dry tug. I put the dryer between my ankles and moved my legs to vary the heat. With balls descended, I can get them to bounce with an upward tug from the base of the penis. That feels really good. This is partially because the buildup of heat forces me to spread very wide, something I have not done before. I think legs fully spread allows greater awareness of the movement of the balls. It adds a little nuance to an extended session.

I decided to go two days, well, two nights wearing the steel cage. Even without hair, morning wood in the plastic cage was difficult to endure. I discovered the steel cage more, um, accommodating. It moved more naturally, even though the cage allows even less engorgement of my prick than the plastic tube. Still, I thought perhaps I could get used to it through the night.

On the other hand, even if I could get used to wearing the cage, I don't know if I could survive its unyielding presence for long periods. I know what it means to be prevented from masturbating for a week by a cage. The thought of unending celibacy is unnerving. My prick is such a big part of my life. Besides, fantasies of Julie would have no natural end without a wank. I would be trapped in a steel cage while visions of sucking and spanking danced in my head forever. I might explode.

The second afternoon I was wearing the cage, Amanda and I had planned a seafood stir-fry. It turns out Amanda is not a vegetarian, but pescetarian. So, we have fish a couple of times a week.

I began getting everything ready for the stir-fry. I deveined and shelled the shrimp. I cut up the calamari in thin strips. I grated ginger and garlic. I prepped red Thai peppers, onion, snow peas and bok choy. I put the rice on, closed the lid, and got out the wok. I set up the bottles of fish sauce, rice vinegar, marinated soy sauce and chili oil. I put a generous tablespoon of brown sugar in a small bowl.

Julie is coming over for dinner. I thought she might like the stir-fry as well. Not everyone is excited about squid, but she can pick it out if she hates it.

I put the squid in simmering water, pulling it out when there was color but before it was done. I whisked the rice vinegar, fish sauce, soy sauce and a little water from the boiled squid in the bowl with brown sugar to make a sauce. Everything prepared, I was ready.

Amanda set the table for three. A couple of minutes later Julie arrived. She, of course, had to watch over what I was doing. She doesn't help with the cooking, she only watches. I wonder what she's thinking. Sometimes she stands so close, she is in the way. Mostly she leans up against the refrigerator.

Once you start with a stir-fry, you can't stop: Oil, ginger, garlic, swirled in the wok. In with the sauce, swirling, reduce, swirling. In with the squid and shrimp a portion at a time in the base of the wok, swirling, toss, swirling, toss, swirling, done. Shrimp and squid set aside. In the hot wok a little chili oil and the vegetables, except the bok choy. Stir, stir, stir, peppers done. Add the bok choy stir, toss, cover for two minutes, stir, toss. Bok choy done, add back the squid and shrimp, mix, plate. Fluff the rice. Done.

The whole time Julie was right behind me. She handed me the bok choy when I asked. I asked because I would have had to shove her our of the way to get it. Why does she stand so close? I feel like she is judging the way I cook. Amanda just let's me do it unless it is one of her special recipes. Then she's in charge and I assist.

At dinner we talked about the overcrowded hospitals and the Covid health crisis. We agreed it is best to continue limiting our contact with others. We three are in our own corona bubble. I have to pinch myself to be sure this is not a dream. A global pandemic has forced me to be alone with two unbelievably alluring women day after day after day.