The Well-Tempered Husband

Fiction © 2000 Submitted by: Peter Pain

We used to have great sex.

No, I lie. That statement is inaccurate in two ways. Firstly the sex wasn't exactly 'great'. It was plentiful, sure. Sally never said no, except on 'those' days. She never claimed to have a headache, never turned away from me in bed. And she never complained that I might be hurting her, even when I took her in what she always referred to as 'the wrong hole'.

But, apart from her acceptance of my frequent desire for anal sex, it was vanilla. The foreplay was always one-way. I was always careful to prepare her, caressing her with my fingers, teasing the fronds of fun-flesh until her juices reluctantly flowed, before going in. And when I used that 'wrong hole', I always made sure it was well lubed. But if she ever touched me, it was usually just to guide me quickly and painlessly into place. No stroking, no stimulation, just intercourse.

Anyway, now you can see how else that statement about 'great sex' was wrong. It wasn't 'we' who had sex. It was just me. She gave my fingers and my cock unlimited access, but she never really participated herself. And oral sex was totally out of the question; she would neither give it nor allow me to give it to her.

Oh, of course, back before we got married it was different. She was curious about my anatomy, wanted to look at it, play with it, see what happened when she did this or that to it. That was great, especially when she masturbated me all the way to orgasm and watched, fascinated, as the cum spurt wildly from my rampant dick. I was her first (and, until recently, her only) boy-friend.

I suppose it was a case of familiarity breeding contempt. Her interest in my body waned, while I was left to satisfy myself with a quick, perfunctory fuck every night, supplemented occasionally by another before getting up in the morning (to take advantage of the usual dawn erection). Or I'd just masturbate.

Sally never used to say anything about my masturbating, but it was clear she didn't like it. If I did it in bed while she was awake, she'd fidget irritably until I was finished, then wordlessly pass me a paper handkerchief. She hated it if I was careless enough to leave cum on the duvet cover.

Yes, the sex, if you can call it that, was plentiful, but as time went by I became more and more frustrated. I wanted Sally to participate actively, to take pleasure in it. I wanted the full panoply of sex - the unrestrained foreplay, the sweet sensation of her luscious lips around my shaft, moistened fingers exploring my quivering, puckered arse. I hoped to acquire a drawer-full of butt-plugs, dildoes, anal beads, for erotic games. I dreamt about burying my cock in that lovely valley between her tits, while she held them close and tight round me. I yearned for the chance to suck on her ample labia, to draw circles around her perfect clitoris with the tip of my tongue, stimulating it to stand proud while mouthfuls of her lubricative juices flowed and mixed with my saliva.

As time went by, the urge to do something about our vanilla sex life began to dominate my thoughts. Suddenly one evening, as I watched tv while Sally washed up the supper dishes, I stood up and went out to the kitchen, determined to bring my frustrations and my desires into the open.

She handed me a drying-up cloth. I put it down on the maple-effect worktop.

"Sally," I said, "this can't go on!"

"What do you mean?" she enquired, turning away from me and giving exaggerated attention to a speck of grime on a saucepan lid.

"I'm talking about sex. I still remember those days before we got married, when you were actually interested in me. We had great times, didn't we?"

"Did we?"

"Whadyoumean, did we! It started off marvellously! You participated. When we got married I thought we'd progress, learn new things, get more and more adventurous in the games we played. But it just never happened! God, Sally, I bet even Adam and Eve had oral sex, but you seem to regard it as worse than drinking from a bar spitoon!

She put the saucepan lid on the drainer and turned to face me.

"Rick, you've tried to raise this matter before" she said humourlessly. "I've thought seriously about letting you put your face where I already allow you to put your fingers and that - thing - of yours. Honestly, I have. I even think I'd enjoy it. But you know full well that it wouldn't stop there. You'd expect me to return the favour, to put your willy in my mouth!"

She grimaced. "What you put in your own mouth is your concern, Rick. But the idea of that thing of yours even touching my lips just repels me! I mean, let's face it, you don't always keep it pristine clean. Sometimes in bed I can smell it. And even if you washed it carefully, twice a day, I'd still be put off by the thought that you pee through it. And worse, it's where all that sticky white stuff comes from when you're excited!"

"Look," I said, exasperated, "oral sex is no big deal. Everyone does it! Can't you, for once, try to overcome your inhibitions and think about pleasing me! OK, I promise to be super-careful about washing from now on!"

A long silence followed while Sally picked up a saucepan and slowly, carefully washed it clean. For want of something to do I picked up a plate from the drainer and started to dry it.

"It's not just hygiene, Rick" she continued. "And your pee and the semen aren't really a big issue." She hesitated, allowing herself a little chuckle at her unintentional (at least I thought it was unintentional) double-entendre. "It's your willy. Its …"

She hesitated.

"Well, go on!" I said, almost shouting. "What about my willy?" I hated her using that name. So demeaning. But I wasn't ready for what she eventually said about it.

"It's so, well, so small!"

I was shocked. I'd never regarded myself as under-endowed. True, I measured it once, when I had a really massive, raging hard-on. And although I usually claim it's a six-incher, the true length was less than five and a half inches from tip to root.

"It's always satisfied you, hasn't it?" I asked petulantly. Again, Sally's attention was seemingly absorbed completely by a speck of burnt-on fat at the bottom of the saucepan. She was facing away from me, but I was sure I could see a sneer at the corner of her mouth.

By now I was getting angry. "For God's sake, Sally!" I shouted. "Are you telling me my prick is no good for you? How would you like it if I never, ever gave it to you again? I can do without regular sex, you know!"

This was sheer bravado. I was trying to shock her into broadening her sexual horizons. But she turned to me with a new, enquiring expression on her face.

"Do you mean that?" she enquired quietly.

"Of course I fucking mean it!" I expostulated. By now the anger had completely taken over, and my tongue was running a completely different course from my brain. "For all I care you can lock my bloody cock up and throw away the key! I mean, what the hell use is it to me if I can't get a decent fuck from my own bloody wife?"

She put the washed-up saucepan on the drainer, and turned to face me again, taking the drying-up cloth from me to wipe her hands. There was a surprisingly mean, determined expression on her face.

"Seriously?"

"Yes, seriously!" I wasn't thinking what I was saying. I was just furious. "Go and have a look at the Altairboy chastity belt site on the web" I challenged sarcastically. "Maybe you'll get a few ideas!" And I stomped out, going back to the tv room and slouching bad-temperedly into my armchair.

I heard Sally drying up the dishes and putting them away, then she came and peered into the tv room.

"How do you spell Altairboy?" she asked calmly. I told her, through clenched teeth, and then heard her going quietly upstairs to our little office. She closed the door behind her.

Gradually I calmed down. The film was Robocop 3 - a bit funnier than its predecessors, and it helped to disperse the frustration and rage that had build up in me. After it ended I watched the late news, and the weather report, and turned the tv off. I could hear Sally had put a Shania Twain disc into the CD-ROM drive, so I guessed she, like me, was ready to make up after our little argument. Wondering if she had really had the nerve to log on to Altairboy's chastity belt site, I walked upstairs and opened the door to our office.

"Come in!" invited Sally. Actually it was spoken as an order rather than an invitation. "I've got some measurements to take!"

It took her about forty-five minutes to measure me up. I let her get on with it - the sensations as she handled my cock and balls, and felt between my arse cheeks, were as exciting as anything I'd had with Sally for many years. Now that I had regained control of my anger I knew I had no intention of giving up sex, and I was sure Sally realised this. She'd never go ahead and actually order a chastity belt! Would she?

But I didn't want to lose face by admitting that my words, spoken in anger, were untrue. I said nothing, and allowed her to get on with the measurements.

That night, in bed, she refused me sex for the first time ever. It was the same the following morning, when I tried to relieve my morning hard-on in the tight confines of her sweet bum. Petulantly I began a vigorous masturbation, and deliberately fired the first few spurts of cum straight at her thigh. She said nothing, but got out of bed and went downstairs to prepare breakfast. I expect she used a sheet of kitchen paper to remove my sticky missiles.

======================================

Life between us continued quietly. There was no further mention of chastity belts, though Sally maintained her refusal to engage in any form of sex with me. I thought she would probably relent soon, if I kept my own feelings and frustrations in check. I still loved my wife, and I was truly sorry for that outburst, but I did sincerely want to get our sex life on to a more exciting footing. As soon as Sally had allowed us to resume our normal, vanilla sex, I thought, I would try to find some subtler way of persuading her to be more adventurous.

I can't remember exactly how long we continued like that. Three, maybe four months, I think. Until one evening I came home from the office to find Sally wearing the most exciting, one-piece Lycra outfit that I had ever seen! And it was evident that no bra was restraining her tits - her nipples stood proud and visible! She looked gorgeous! I dropped my briefcase and ran to embrace her, and to my surprise she responded warmly. My hug had pinioned her arms down between our bodies, and I felt her fingers caress my hardening cock, diffidently but definitely, through the fabric of my trousers. God, I thought, my luck's turning at last!

I started to move downwards, intending to place my mouth over one of her Lycra-clad nipples, but she pulled lithely away from me and took my hand, leading me into the tv room and sitting me down on the leather sofa. She pressed a cassette into the video and set it in motion. Then she came to sit by me, leaning against my shoulder. She took one of my hands and, to my surprise, she put it between her upper thighs. Bloody hell, I thought, this Lycra costume's got a split crotch! Very tentatively, so as not to frighten Sally away again, I began finger-stroking her mound. It was smooth, clear of all hair! Things were really looking up at last, I thought. And Sally herself put one hand on my lap too, lightly stroking the shape of my erection with her fingertips.

The video wasn't by any means kinky, unless you count interracial hetero sex as kinky. But it was hardcore, and I wondered where Sally had laid hands on it.

"Wow!" I exclaimed after a particularly horny scene involving the heroine and two guys with gigantic cocks. "Where did you get this video? And how long have you been looking at stuff like this? You've just gone up five hundred percent in my esteem, you know!"

"How d'you think I knew your own cock was such a small one?" she countered, cleverly avoiding both my questions. "You knew you were my first ever lover, didn't you? How could I make comparisons?"

This comment both excited and worried me. She was talking dirty - well, dirtyish - and this, I thought, could only be a good sign. She'd never said 'cock' before. But it was also the first time she'd referred to that blazing row we'd had a while ago, and I'd hoped that episode was forgotten.

By the time the video ended we were kissing and cuddling like newly-weds! Eventually Sally broke away to press the rewind button, but she kept one hand over my prick. And once the tape had been rewound, she took me by both hands and encouraged me to stand. What did she have in mind, I wondered.

Still maintaining the sexy atmosphere that she'd created for the evening, she led me upstairs and began to strip me. This was a first, too - we had always undressed ourselves, even in the early days. To my amazement she actually planted a light kiss on my erect, oozing cock! I tried to hold her, to begin returning the compliment, but she wriggled from my grasp and pointed at the bed.

Two gleaming pairs of handcuffs rested on top of the duvet.

"What's this?" I asked. "When did you get those? We've never tried bondage before!"

"I'll tell you later" she replied. "There's always a first time, isn't there? We're going to try bondage right now. At least, we are if you want this little game to continue. Put one on each wrist. Now."

Well, I thought, now that my luck seems to be changing at last, I'd better play along. Taking a pair of handcuffs in my right hand I clicked one closed over my left wrist, leaving the other cuff dangling. The second pair of cuffs went in a similar way on to my right wrist.

"Now lie on the bed, on your back, and put your arms up by the headboard."

It was a brass bedstead, and Sally fixed the free cuffs to this in a way that held my arms secure, wide apart. I didn't know what sort of game we were going to play, but I thought, it had to be better than no sex at all! And I was feeling as horny as hell!

She left me, to return a couple of minutes later with a bowl of ice cubes. She put the bowl on the bedside table, then folded her arms and stood looking at me. The split crotch of her Lycra suit gaped slightly open, and I could see the little hood of her lovely clit peering out.

"Ever since I've known you, Rick, you've been a man of your word. It's one of the things about you that I've always loved. Are you still a man of your word?"

"Of course, Sally sweetheart! I've never lied to you! Honestly!"

"So you always mean what you say?"

I smiled. "Yes, darling. I love you! I always will, and I really do mean that!"

"Good" she said. "Remember that while we play." And she put one of the ice cubes in my mouth.

"Don't spit it out, or crunch it up," she ordered, "or my game plan might get unpleasant! Just suck it and keep quiet."

While my mind was concentrated on Sally's ice-cold substitute for a gag, she busied herself securing my legs. Then I felt the sudden shock of ice cubes being applied to my cock and balls! What, I wondered, the hell was going on?

In short time my erection had subsided into something that looked like a cold, shrivelled slug. Deftly she wrapped a nylon stocking around it and threaded a little metal tube over the end. Seconds later my prick was encased in a tight steel prison. With a start I suddenly realised what was happening. I spat out the ice cube.

"Sally, stop at once! I'm not going to submit to this! You've no right! I thought we were going to -"

When she slapped me, hard, across the face, I stopped talking. She picked up two new ice cubes and forced them into my mouth, putting the spat-out cube back in the bowl.

"Rick, darling, I clearly remember you telling me I could 'lock your bloody cock up and throw away the key'. You even pointed out that your cock was no use to you if you can't, and I quote, 'get a decent fuck from your own bloody wife'. So I'm locking up your cock. And you'll never, ever get a decent fuck from your bloody wife again!"

I looked at her aghast. "But I didn't mean -"

"And you're a man of your word, remember? You always mean what you say! Well, darling," she said, leaning across the bed to plant a kiss full on my lips, "I accept with pleasure the gift you have given me! I accept that it is given in a spirit of love, and I know you're only thinking of my happiness. Thank you very, very much. It is a gift that I shall cherish for many years to come!"

I gulped. I didn't dare tell Sally, but I accidentally swallowed one of the ice cubes. I could feel its coldness numbing my insides as it made its way slowly towards my stomach.

Taking the other pieces of the steel chastity belt from a cupboard, she carefully applied them one by one to my body. The ominous clicks, as piece fitted to piece, were the slow ticks of a clock that counted off the remaining seconds of my sexual freedom. In due course she had got everything in place.

"Nearly done, Rick. The next click you hear will be the lock that holds everything properly together. There's one lock, and there are three keys that fit it. I've put one in an envelope and sent it to a bank for safe keeping in a deposit box. I'll give you the account number if you like. The bank's in Switzerland, by the way.

"Key number two is with a lawyer. You don't need to know about that. It's a sort of insurance policy. If things go wrong between us, he's got enough information about you to ensure I don't lose out.

"Key number three is with Jason."

I had to speak, regardless of Sally's instructions. I swallowed what remained of the second ice cube. "Who's Jason?" I asked, a small knot of worry growing larger in my stomach. I wriggled, testing the bonds that held my arms and legs, to no avail.

"Ah, yes. Jason." She fussed at my belt, teasing a little fold of pinched skin until it was clear and free. "Did you enjoy that video we watched this evening? Well, so did I, the first time I saw it, eighteen months ago. Yes, Rick, I was so bored with your selfish, wham-bam thrusting fucks, that I actually got my own rocks off watching porn videos while you were at work! And this video was very special to me. Those huge, virile cocks were an amazing turn-on after experiencing your pathetic little apology for a prick. I was particularly attracted to one of the guys, not just because if the size of his knob, but because he was so careful in the video to make sure the girl was truly, deeply satisfied before he allowed himself to orgasm.

"I made enquiries, searching the web for information about the guy. Cutting a long story short, I eventually found an email address for him, and wrote telling him how much I appreciated his work, his style. And he wrote back. Yes, that's Jason.

"For a while we merely exchanged emails. But I've actually been seeing him ever since that evening when you sounded off at me. When you released your foul tirade at me, telling me how I should pamper your poor, deprived little prick. When you generously offered to let me encase your cock and balls in a steel prison. It's wonderful of you to giving yourself to me in this way, Rick! I do appreciate your gesture so much! You were telling me I would never have to come into contact with your penis, not ever again!

"And of course I knew you'd not be so selfish as to deprive me of all future pleasures, so I was certain you would approve of Jason, especially once you'd seen his superb video! Jason and I have been seeing each other during the daytime, regularly, frequently, while you've been at the office. I have taken every inch of his massive machine inside me. Yes, in the wrong hole as well as the right one!

"Your own little cock" she said, sneering, "would fit in my mouth erect, balls and all. If I wanted it. But I never did want it. It's no challenge, no fun! It's no good to me, so locking it away is the best thing for it, I'm sure!

"But Jason's different. So far, I've not been able to accommodate the whole of his lovely tool in my mouth even when it's soft! And it's totally impossible when he's erect! But he's teaching me the deep-throat technique, bless him, and I know I'm going to get every inch of him past my lips one day. He's taught me an awful lot in the months since we first started fucking."

I was appalled. My entire sex life was crumbling. I could see that Sally had become the erotic sex partner that I'd always yearned for, but someone else was getting the benefit! Now my prick was to be locked away and never released for any of the fun I'd craved all my life!

"But Sally, Sally! Why the hell have you given the one remaining key to him?"

"Ah, yes. I forgot to mention. You have to be let out occasionally, to be cleaned and milked. And examined in case you develop sores or something. Jason's agreed to do it for me. I told him I was afraid you might overpower me if I ever got careless about putting you in bondage for the cleaning sessions. He'll milk your semen regularly, with a finger up your arse to stimulate the prostate while he strokes your dick-head. No fun for you, I'm afraid, but it'll relieve your sex urges for a while. You'll be chained up, like you are now, for the process, so it'll all be completely out of your control.

"And by the way, I once mentioned to him that you were a tight-arsed little bugger. I didn't mean it in a sexual way - I just meant you needed to be a bit more generous with your money. But his eyes gleamed when I said it! I think he took it to mean - well, I reckon you'll get to know the feel of that enormous prick inside you almost as well as I do!"

Click! The final piece of the chastity belt jigsaw was pushed into place, and I knew I was thoroughly locked up until Jason came to give me my first temporary relief. When that would be I had no idea.

"Oh, and by the way," she added, as I began crying. "I shall expect you to remain polite, and submissive, and well-tempered from now on. There's a big bowl of washing-up waiting for your attention downstairs, when I release you. Disobedience, or angry words, will cost you. It might be a longer period between releases, or I might get Jason to fit a butt-plug inside your CB. Or some other punishment. I'll have plenty of time to think up nice little surprises for you, won't I?"

Sally undid the cords holding my legs apart, and I continued to sob while she went downstairs for the keys to release my handcuffs.

How did I get into this ghastly mess, I moaned to myself. Shall I ever get used to it?

End

© Peter Pain 2000

Well, will Rick get used to it? Or will he fight against it, striving to find a way to release himself from his little portable prison and resume a satisfying sex life with Sally? Or with someone else? How will Rick react when Jason comes to give him his first 'release'? If you're all very, very good boys and girls, maybe I'll sit you down by the autumn fireside and tell you the next part of this story!

Peter Pain - velveteel@yahoo.co.uk


[ Story continues in part 2 ]
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