Strudel's Chaste Bitch-boi

Norman looked at Strudel, trying to hide his desperation. His penis surged against the unforgiving cage. Norman gritted his teeth, and then thought better of it.

Strudel looked up from her magazine. Noting the bulge in Norman's khakis, she smiled.

"Strudel, darling," Norman pleaded.

Absently, Strudel played with the key around her neck, then dropping a scarlet nail to adjust her hot pink jogging bra. She breathed and stretched, and her 34 C's strained against it.

Norman felt a little ridiculous standing there, and how he wished he could jump on the bed and just fuck the shit out of her. Without the cage.

But who had introduced the cage in the first place? Whose fault was it really?

"What's wrong," Strudel said, toying with her fluffy auburn tresses. "Your football game over now? You have time for Strudel, right? It's convenient now."

Norman wiped his brow. His penis was starting to grow a little too much. He and Strudel had agreed some time ago to get him a smaller cage, to broaden his boundaries.

"After all, I don't want you getting all excited over your secretary." Strudel had said. "You won't be gaping at Tinsel or Jillian if it hurts when your Willy gets too long, right?"

"There were two minutes left in the game, Strudel."

"But two minutes is always half an hour in football. They stop and start the game again and again. It's annoying." Strudel looked again at Norman's bulging crotch, and giggled. It must be terribly painful in there.

It helps, of course, that I do my aerobics. She stretched some more.

"Football--it was a close game." Norman breathed, and unconsciously, he adjusted his pants. "But I really want you to tell me what you were trying to, before."

"You forgot, didn't you?" Strudel smiled. "You were scheduled to have your cage off tonight."

"I've tried so hard to please you." Norman begged. "I washed the windows yesterday, didn't play golf, I waxed the floors and cleaned both bathrooms. I just wanted to see this big game."

Strudel, lying on the couch lifted one leg into the air like the ballerina she'd once been. Way up there...such a long leg.

The night before, Norman had shaved and oiled her legs until they were very soft.

Strudel had playfully put Norman's encaged penis between her tender thighs and rubbed them until his dick was swelling through the bars.

But that was the night Strudel was having a friend over, and so Norman just got to watch while she did her makeup and put on her little body stocking with the robe.

Then, Norman had gone to his room while Strudel had gotten together with Mike. He'd tried to nap but his cock was so hard! Later, Strudel had called him after her visitor had departed, and Norman had cleaned up the stickiness between her legs.

He'd sobbed his way to sleep, his cock straining in the cage, but he'd thought that maybe tomorrow she would beckon him, since it had been almost thirty days.

And this morning he'd made a brunch for Strudel and yet another male friend. Norman dearly loved his wife, but she had such intense demands!

Once he'd told Strudel that he fantasized about having to service her lovers, maybe to lick her juices off another man's cock. But he also dreamed of fucking her...

Guess which fantasy had taken place after lunch?

It had been a bit of a reluctance on his part--but Strudel had guided Norman's head to Leon's long black penis, and he'd managed to clean a bit off with his tongue.

It was only skin, after all.

So then the football game had come, and Norman had been watching it, and there was all this excitement at the very end, and Strudel had come to talk to Norman, and he'd shushed her.

This was a big mistake.

"Strudel," Norman said with a desperate smile, "If you're angry with me, I understand if you want to punish me, but I really don't want to give up my orgasm."

Strudel smiled again. Oh those teeth! "You couldn't take another week, huh?"

That had happened before, when his orgasm date approached and he'd forgotten to wash the dishes, or neglected to pick up her dry-cleaning. Sometimes, if offenses piled up, Strudel might give him five or six extensions on his date...

Sometimes delaying his orgasm for several months!

"Well," Strudel said briskly, "if that's what you want, I guess I can accommodate you. Go in the bedroom, and take off your clothes and bring out the paddle and the razor strop."

Norman bit his lip, but he went into the bedroom. He stripped off his shirt and his khakis, and stepped out of his shorts, and he folded them all neatly, like his mother had always taught him.

Then he went to the closet and brought out the paddle, which was a wooden thing shaped like a over-large Ping-Pong paddle with lots of little holes in the polished oak to allow for wind resistance.

And then Norman took the razor strop out, too, a deadly looking thing.

Fortunately, Strudel hadn't mentioned the cane.

As frightened as Norman was, he was terribly aroused that his beautiful girl was going to punish him. He remembered in the old days when she'd always been tender and loving and patient, and how puzzled she had been that he had these other peculiar needs.

"Do you hate yourself or something?"

They'd come a long way in the last twenty-seven months!

After a few minutes, Strudel got up and stretched, looking down cheerfully at the bouncing cleavage. Not bad for thirty-five. Would she let poor Norman fuck her tonight? Or maybe just allow him to jerk off, perhaps while facing the corner?

Strudel went into the bedroom, and Norman was kneeling on the floor. The paddle and the strap were lying on the bed. Strudel picked up the paddle and tapped it with her "Sally Hansen Hard As Nails" manicure.

"You can get up now, Norrie." she said comfortably. Norman rose, and stood in front of Strudel, naked and shaking. She smiled and leaned over, kissing him tenderly.

Strudel cupped Norman's cheek in her right hand. "Baby, I love you so. I just want to teach you a little consideration." She paused. "Are you sure you want this kind of correction?"

"Y-yes. I figure I've blown my chances at us making love, but at least I might jerk off in the corner?" And of course this came out as a question.

Strudel's voice turned cold. "You're giving the orders here? You've decided?"

Norman blanched. "Nuh-no, whatever-whatever you want, Strudel--Miss Strudel."

"Get over the bed." Strudel said briskly. "We'll see what the big man gets for ordering me around. You'll jerk off, or you'll fuck me?" She snorted. "That's almost worse than shutting me up during your stupid football game."

"I-no, please--"

"Get over the bed now, or you won't watch another game this season, and you'll spend basketball season locked naked in the basement."

Norman lay over the bed, and Strudel could hear him weeping pitifully. However, his cage was standing straight up, pushing against his stomach.

"Thank me after each swipe, Norman."

"Y-yes ma'am."

WHACK!

"Th-thank you Miss Strudel."

THWACK!

Th-Thank you..." But he was shaking.

Strudel looked down at Norman's ass and it was reddening. She sometimes shaved it when she had him tied down, and believed fervently that it helped with impact.

WHACK!

At this last one, Norman broke down and sobbed. Strudel sat down next to his prone body and looked at her ruddy-bottomed husband, lying on his stomach.

She thought of the old days, and how he'd cheated on her frequently, and lost his temper.

And now he'd quit drinking heavily, and smoking, and jogged--they were both happier now.

"Roll over on your back, baby." Strudel said softly.

Norman rolled over and lay on his back, wincing as his bottom rubbed against the mattress.

Strudel leaned over and touched Norman's penis, pushing a fingertip through the bars of the cage and rubbing and tickling his wee-wee with her long nail.

Norman gasped, and his cock hardened in the little prison.

"I just want you to learn how to be a good husband, and it takes time, and a lot of work on my part." Strudel said this and leaned over until her cleavage was almost engulfing Norman's nose.

She felt his penis swelling fruitlessly against the tiny cage, and tried not to giggle in Norman's ear.