Be careful what you ask for,
that's all I gotta say.
Though I'm not complaining,
that she's locked my cock away.
It seems like only yesterday
that I controlled my prick.
A toy I'd played with all my life,
my few-inch measuring stick.
Dear AltairBoy, don't get me wrong.
I know I can't blame you
for giving us ideas
that have put me in the stew.
I know you didn't hunt me up,
I know it's all my fault,
but the idea so intrigued me
being locked in my groined vault.
Okay, our CB-2 arrived,
I thought it just a toy,
a small addition to our scene,
but it's the real mccoy.
The idea of giving up
control is quite addictive.
Until one actually does it,
then finds it so restrictive
My wife now loves the power,
of the key. It's just my luck,
that she'd turn into a Gretsky,
and my cock would be her puck.
Who'da thought it'd be the can,
and my cock the trapped sardine?
Or that it'd turn me to a slave,
and her into my queen?
She wears the key around her neck,
and really loves to tease.
She taunts me with her body,
which I'm daily made to please.
I now do all the housework
iron and dust and wax and mop.
She mustn't lift a finger,
I'm the bottom, she's the top.
She says I'm like a girlfriend
when my tongue is in her slit.
Her tight control of lock and key
insures that I'll submit.
She loves the way I nibble
with my educated tongue,
as I make the licking round-trip
from her clit back to her bung.
She told her best friend everything
of how I toe the line.
She said the recipe's one soft cock,
then add plastic to confine.
After hearing all the details,
the bitch then had to see
the macho-man she never liked,
who now sits to take a pee.
When this girlfriend visits,
it always makes me blush.
Nude but for my plastic jail
always gives me quite a rush.
Should I make an error,
or otherwise disgrace,
the color of my naked rear
soon matches my red face.
They love it when I'm humble,
docile, servile and subdued.
They love to hear me beg relief
to match their teasing mood.
My poor cock's in a tizzy,
and my balls are hanging low.
They just don't understand it
that my sperm's held in escrow.
She glories in her control
of one who's plasticly endowed.
She climaxes both day and night,
an act I'm not allowed.
Frustration's now my middle name
I feel my balls will bust.
I still have ten more days to wait
to satisfy my lust.
It seems it's been forever
since my cock and balls were free,
an eternity in plastic,
praying that she'll use the key,
hearing all her laughter and
her panting in her glee,
as I suffer all her torments
in my plastic agony.
Shamed as she rejoices
and rejects my every plea,
reminding me I asked for this
how can I disagree?
I guess I need forced servitude
no matter what the fee.
Serving her attracts me
like the dog attracts the flea.
But the pain of being chaste so long,
well, how could I foresee
the agony of blue balls?
I can't blame no one but me.
Surely you now understand
my desire to be free.
And not that I'm the type to count,
but I'm half-way through day three.
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Page last updated 00-Oct-11 by: Altairboy@aol.com