Saturday, November 28, 2015

A Man's Chastity XII

“But why the lady’s room?”

If I am protesting, my wavering voice is not effective.

“Quiet Henry. You wouldn’t want me to be seen in the men’s room would you?”

Miss Madeleine leads me by the hand like a child. In her free hand is my cock cage, control ring and small padlock. She brazenly carries the components of my chastity in the open, some how knowing the hallways will be empty... just as she surmises the lady’s room will be unoccupied.

This will be embarrassing. Yet worse is that security guard Pam, her stern demeanor, her firm tugging hand, proves to be a catalyst towards tumescence. And being under the tutelage of Miss Madeleine does not help.

Into the lady’s room I am led into the handicapped stall, sizeable in width. I can feel myself further stiffen. It is unfamiliar to me, being hard without my wrists burdened.

Miss Madeleine puts down the seat cover and sits, pulling me towards her. She reaches to my belt and uncouples the buckle.

“Hands on head, Henry. Been a while since I placed a boy in chastity. I noticed your wife has you in a spiked cage. She’s a determined woman.”  

As she speaks, my slacks are summarily lowered, crumpled at my ankles. Within seconds my underpants are likewise slid to the bathroom floor. The woman has before stripped men, there is not doubt. In my bashfulness I turn my head to the ceiling, knowing my erection will make an impression.

“And look at this. Shaven... hairless like a little boy. And your little penis is celebrating. How cute! I can see why the wife has you locked up, Henry. This can’t offer a woman much satisfaction... only for you. And that’s not good for a man of your ilk. Beta males need to learn to offer pleasure not labor to bring forth their own.”

An index finger presses the top of my standing four inches and pushes downward. It both hurts and thrills.

“Lots of masturbation in the past no doubt. But not now. You’re a good boy.”

The hand withdraws, my erection snaps upwards and Miss Madeleine presents the control ring. This solid circle of steel is precisely measured such that when slipped over the penis and scrotum, it cannot be pulled off once the steel mesh cock cage is locked to it. It’s limited size is such that only one testicle at a time can be drawn through. Then the penis, flaccidity mandatory, is pulled down and likewise slipped into the confines of the smooth heavily gauged circumference. It requires practice, my wife quite accomplished over the many months since the device was procured. When properly set, the metal rests on the pubic bone, circling from perineum to the base of the penis at the top. Though heavy it’s surprising comfortable... and the girth sends the bearer a constant message... that one is under control.

I am surprised with both the speed and enthusiasm that Miss Madeleine’s fingers work my testicles into the ring. She has no compunction in handling male genitals.

“Yes, it’s been a while. In my younger days I owned a two family house, rented the top floor to two gay college boys. What a ruckus those boys would make, Lord only knows the hijinks. Quite frisky. Friday nights were loud, lots of thumping... later found to be humping.

“Whatever are we going to do with this little rascal, Henry? Can’t get it through the control ring like that,” Miss Madeleine interrupts herself.

The humiliation is intense, leading to more stiffness. These are the times when my wife most abruptly ices me down, shriveling my limited size to next to nothing in order to return me to chastity. Alas, no ice in the lady’s room.

With a wicked grin, the imposing woman raises her hand and with a snap of her wrist smacks the very tip of my penis. It deflates... instantly... Miss Madeleine’s knowledge and control of the male phallus impressive.

“There,” fingers resuming to pull my limp penis through the ring. “So after a few weeks, I threatened to raise the rent... doubling it. Told them that if I am to be awakened with all the noise I wanted more money...  knowing college guys could barely afford the current amount. It was a ruse to get them out.”

Miss Madeleine reaches for the mesh cock cage, peering to the inside and smiling with the sharp precision placed spikes.

“Hold still,” she commands, knowing that no matter the heed, the spikes will announce themselves when set in place.

“Well they begged, insisting that quiet would ensue, no rent increase required. And of course with hormones raging the thumping continued. So I sent a formal notice of rent increase. There was no lease, just a month to month thing. Upon receipt I got a visit... a very humble visit.”

The cock cage slides into place. I am surprised with the level of care, barely a grimace in response. As the small padlock is aligned and snapped closed, the story continues.

“Told them I was suspicious about the source of the noise. Played the role of prudish spinster. Told them abstention was best... and if they agreed to be abstemious, no rent increase. Pull up your underpants for me like a good boy.”

I bend and obey.

“They agreed. But I told them I wanted assurances... asked if they were pierced. One said yes, a standard Prince Albert ring, the other demurred. So his friend finally answered for him. A matching Prince Albert. Seems they played with each others rings, some form of mutual masturbation. I feigned shock of course. Demanding that would end... and that I would be sure to end it.”

Miss Madeleine reaches down and grasps my slacks at the belt left and right. Something about dressing me, arranging my attire about the hips, buckling the belt, zipping the zipper, that adds an element of control for her.  

“Well to make a long story short, I sent both each for one more piercing... a guiche... at the perineum... near the anus. They had no choice... get pierced or go homeless before mid semester. Thereafter, it was a small step to place them in chastity, tiny lock attaching the Prince Albert ring to the guiche. Friday nights were quiet after that. But I mercifully had them perform for me on Saturday afternoons. Watching two hormone laden gay boys go at it can be very entertaining, Henry.”  

With that Miss Madeleine tenderly pats the outline of the steel cock cage and arises from the toilet lid.

“See you back here at 5:30 when your wife will pick you up. I’ll release you and keep the cock cage in my desk overnight. Have a good day, Henry. And do have deference for the woman who holds your key.”

I certainly will. Obedience to a file clerk. Ah, the power of the key.

Wednesday, November 25, 2015

Paper book offerings

For readers who prefer hard copy, I have made available the following old books...

'Power of Money/A Dog's Life' $10.00

'The Girl' $ 7.50   (The series is published in five parts in ebook format)

'A Woman in Control' $5.07

These were formerly offered exclusively through QSM, a website which has closed.

I have also fabricated a paper edition of the triology 'A Man's Chastity', including epilogue. $10.00

If interest is shown, I will offer more in paperback format. Experience has shown this not to be the case.



Saturday, November 21, 2015

'The Harlot of Bowers Enterprises'

Enjoying the characters, I have written an epilogue to the trilogy 'A Man's Chastity'. 

7,800 words. $2.10

 It may stand on its own, but reading the trilogy first will probably bring more enjoyment.

A Man's Chastity XI

As I step from the car, I cannot help wondering if any of my colleagues will notice how far into the lot my wife has parked, well away from other cars. For obvious reasons, seclusion is needed, zipper lowered, wife finding the tiny padlock and with noted alacrity releasing and sliding away the spiked cock cage.

Normally this is done slowly and carefully, the penile flesh understandably sensitive. But not in the building parking lot, the morning sun glaring. Opportunity for observation must be minimized, the quickness painful but appreciated.

I zip up, step from the car and begin my journey, my wife honking the horn in bidding adieu, but also pausing at the exit to the street to assure I enter the lobby. 

I wave and step through the revolving door.

The large lobby, glowing in the morning sun, now appears congested, the metal detectors transforming the space into an airline terminal. The waiting line is short and I step to the conveyor, empty my pockets of keys and coinage and drop my brief bag.

I spy a smirking Madeleine Hawkins, standing in wait near the elevators. She wriggles her finger in a ‘come hither’ gesture, a stern mother beckoning a child. I nod glumly to acknowledge then move through the archway of the detector.

It buzzes, a red light flashing.

“Sir, can you check your pockets please?” a woman security guard, young yet authoritative, politely blocking further entrance.

I do. There is nothing metallic. I shrug trying to appear innocuous. 

Ah, here comes the wand, the antenna announcing its purpose. The woman moves her arms from her sides in a signal for me to assume a similar pose. I obey. Though not much older than a teenager, my reaction is ingrained. She is polite yet firm and I respond obsequiously to firmness.

I am chagrined when, with a swift continuous wave, the wand beeps, first at my right wrist, then at my neck, then the left wrist. It’s the piano wire used to secure the seams of my nylon wrist bands and collar. She ignores the warning at the wrists, presumably assuming anything there to be small and harmless. But at the neck she has concerns.

“If you’re wearing a necklace sir, you’ll need to remove it and place it on the conveyor.”

I begin to blush.

“And any wrist jewelry as well,” the woman’s tone, her pose suggesting authority.

Well, such is not to be removed, not without cutting and obviating replacement, and earning the wrath of my wife. What am to say?

“I... I...” my stammering does not impress.

Madeleine Hawkins notes my dilemma, marching to my aid.

“He wears a collar, Pam... from his wife.”

The guard turns and nods at Miss Madeleine, a wry smile suggesting both understanding and a degree of enjoyment with my discomfort.

“I see. One of those.”

She turns back, the smile fading.

“I won’t make you show it, sir. We don’t embarrass here. But I will need to feel it. There’s metal and that must be checked.”

For some reason I find myself stepping toward her. A curious reaction. And more curiously I bend at the waist, in a way bowing to she in uniform.

“It’s the seam,” I offer, pointing to the right side where I know the piano wire to reside.

The guard, some six inches shorter than me, reaches, feeling the otherwise covered strip of thick nylon. Her fingers find the wire stitches, working to slip under through the thin cloth of my dress shirt. I am shocked when she hooks her fingers and tugs... quite firmly.

I must assume she is assuring that the collar is indeed permanent and cannot be removed. Or is she replicating the action of a leash, about to lead me to the elevator, a controlling hand celebrating in feminine dominion.

“Quite sturdy. Won’t slip off. And can probably withstand lots of tension... like that of a leash.”   

Her comment magnifies my blushing. But for some reason there also comes that twinge. And with cock cage removed, flaccidity is no longer physically mandated. The guard glares intently, seeming to be aware of my plight.

“I’ll take him upstairs if there are no further security issues,” Miss Madeleine breaking the silent stand off.

“Yes, he is one of them, Madeleine. Look at those puppy dog eyes... the way he reacts to a woman tugging at his collar...”

Gratefully, Pam the guard finally steps aside, letting me retrieve brief bag and pocket items from the conveyor. It is the start of a long day. 

Saturday, November 14, 2015

A Man's Chastity X

“But she’s nothing more than a file clerk!”

My words are direct and meant to be uttered in adamance. But whenever there is an exchange of dialogue with my wife, I sound like a squeaking mouse.

“Madeleine Hawkins, Miss Madeleine to you, is one of us. You will respect her and obey her. Is that clear Henry?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” the words of a sullen mouse.

With the arrival of the second cock cage and control ring, I stand naked, wrists secured behind my back as my wife tests to assure a proper fit. As with most things Teutonic, it proves to be precise, an exact duplicate, spikes included.

“Okay, take the old one and mail it priority to your office, addressed to Madeleine Hawkins. It should arrive on Monday.”

The rush shipment from Germany, air express, added over $100 to the cost of the finely fabricated cage and ring. But it is timely received. On Monday, the new security protocol begins. To some degree I am excited, to be relieved of the cock cage. But upon arrival in the office, having cleared security and the new metal detectors, Madeleine Hawkins.... Miss Madeleine Hawkins... will return me to chastity with the duplicate cock cage. This brings apprehension, subordinating myself to a subordinate.

The woman is annoying. Bad enough she knows of my collaring. Now she will be caging my penis.

There comes the click of the tiny pad lock, assuring my return to chastity. I know to turn and my wife releases the double ‘D’ clamp from my wrist bands.

So the new regimen is that I will be driven to work, temporarily released from my new cock cage in the parking lot, amble through security and report to Madeleine Hawkins... Miss Madeleine Hawkins... who will return me to chastity with the old cock cage. At the end of the day, the process is to be reversed.

I suppose I could somehow play with myself, possibly even masturbate, during the interval from parking lot to office. Yes, I fantasize, divert my route to a stall in the men’s room for some quick strokes and ejaculation... fully spurting... and not into a cup.

I think about it. I have to. I’m a guy. A very frustrated guy.

“Madeleine will greet you in the building lobby, Henry. If she’s not there you will wait for her... obediently wait for her.”

Well, there goes that fantasy.

Friday, November 13, 2015

'A Man's Chastity, the Compendium;

As some have noticed, I have published a compendium of the three segments for ease of reading and slight cost savings.

Some 67,000 words. Price $8.50.

'A Man's Chastity', 'Continuing a Man's Chastity', 'Ending a Man's Chastity'



Tuesday, November 10, 2015

Final segment of the trilogy 'Ending a Man's Chastity'

Now available on Lulu is the final segment of the chastity series, 'Ending a Man's Chastity'.

27,000 + words. $4.50.

Preceding are the segments 'A Man's Chastity' and 'Continuing a Man's Chastity'



Saturday, November 7, 2015

A Man's Chastity IX

“Calm down, Henry. There’s a simple solution. Perhaps more than one.”

I hear the honking of a horn, a car brazenly pulling into our driveway.

“Ah, there’s David to pick me up. The undergrads love showing off their cars. Insisted on driving me to the restaurant. Shall I have him come in to meet? You’d be able to place a face with a taste,” the sardonic words offered with an innocent smile.

I shake my head. Yes, I will most likely be tasting David later, my wife not always able to completely expel the effluent of a night’s tryst before demanding my oral servitude. But I need not see him, particularly as I am once again naked, my wife having spent the last thirty minutes leading me about the house, testing the new dog leash.

I could sense the rush brought her by the expression of unbridled feminine power.

“Get the invoice for your cock cage. Then go on line to the website and request that a duplicate be made... to be express shipped.”

With that, my wife snaps closed the tiny padlock making my collar one with the long chain she procured. After some thought, she bought both... leash and lengthy chain. In locking the latter in place, I cannot release myself even with hands free. And I cannot reach the bathroom. There is a bucket for emergencies. If used, another week will be added to my chastity.

“Being tethered will make you feel better, Henry. It’s the only reason I do this. Dr. Bronski suggests bondage is appropriate for you... that you need to feel a woman’s dominion... and I agree.”

I get a kiss on my forehead and a pat to my buttocks. With that, my wife leaves for her tutoring session... at an expensive French restaurant... paid for with my credit card. I cannot help gazing in awe and wonder as she strolls to the front door, dressed not for tutoring but for a lavish evening on the town. She is ravishing, cocktail dress of glowing red, raven hair, blue eyes. Beneath the mesh of steel, I feel the twinge I must so often suppress.

I hear the screech of tires, this David student enthused by fast cars. Though well endowed and popular with the girls, my wife has informed that she has been teaching him a few things... academics aside.

She likes to ride firm young cock... of size. In late night pillow talk, this has been explained to me ad infinitum, her shockingly explicit words coming to me while I sense the warm embers of her multiple orgasms... rekindled by my oral servitude.

Left alone in my thoughts, I pull my chain to the den. The invoice for my cock cage is located and I boot up the computer, typing in the address for the German website.

More of my retirement funds to be expended when the credit card bill arrives.