UNDER LOCK AND KEY

I could hear her soft whimpers as I neared the bedroom door, and when I opened it and entered, I could see tears welled in the corner of her eyes as she sat at her makeup table smoking a cigarette. "What's the matter, honey?" I asked.

"Nothing," she said. "I'm fine."

I should have been smart enough to leave well enough alone, but I persisted. "C'mon... I can tell something's bothering you. What is it?"

I wasn't expecting to hear what I heard.

"When's the last time we had sex?" she asked.

"Gee, it hasn't been that long. It was... well... I guess maybe it has been a while."

"It's been a while alright," she sniffed. "So why is it that I'm horny all the time, but apparently you're not?"

Gulp. This wasn't looking good. "I don't know, honey, I guess maybe I just don't get the urge as much as I used to. Or maybe..."

"Or maybe," she interrupted, "you're taking matters into your own hands and there's no 'urge' left by the time I get home from work."

I thought to myself, "Bingo!" but instead tried to protest. "Honey, you know that's just not true."

She took a long drag on her cigarette and slowly exhaled a plume of smoke toward the ceiling while I tried to figure out where this was going. "Did you forget that I do your laundry?" she asked. "Did it ever occur to you that when you're jerking off your leaving traces in your underwear and on the waistband of your shorts?"

"Well, maybe once in a..."

"And how is it that you're always so quick to notice Brenda next door, but you don't ever seem to give me a second look anymore. 'Oh hi, Brenda, I love your new hairdo. Is that a new bracelet, Brenda? Did you get new glasses?' You don't think I notice that, do you?"

I just stood there in shock as she took a final drag on her cigarette and stubbed it out in the ashtray. For once I was totally speechless, and she knew she had me backed into a corner. Marti and I were both in our early 30's and once upon a time our sex lives had been the stuff porn flicks were made of. I had to admit that somewhere along the way the luster had vanished. But it wasn't all my fault, I thought. Marti, although still an attractive woman, had gotten stagnant in my mind. As a busy sales rep for a local company, she had become the consumate career woman. And maybe she was right. Maybe I was watching Brenda a little too much. But there was a reason for that.

"I don't really know what to say," I told her. "Yeah, I probably do sneak a peek at Brenda once in a while, but it's because she IS always doing something different with her hair or trying new clothing styles. You've sort of gotten in a rut the past few years."

She sniffed a little and curled the corners of her mouth into a sarcastic grin. "So you're telling me I've gotten so boring that you'd rather jerk off with visions of Brenda in your head than make love to me."

"No, no, no... That's not it."

"Well then, what is it?"

"I just kinda wish you'd do something a little daring and exciting once in a while. Just to kinda spice things up," I told her. "Maybe try a new hairdo or something. And you have to admit, you've never really exhibited any kind of a kinky side. For you, making love the same old tired way is fine. But that gets a little boring for me."

"And that's all it would take?" she asked. "I get a new haircut and let you do me from behind once in a while and that'd keep you from surfing the web for porn, stopping off at the titty bar with your buddy, Ed, and jerking off everyday?"

Damn. She was really on to me. Who was she, Kreskin? "Well, it might."

"And what if it might not? Since you work from home while I'm at the office, I have no way of really knowing what you're doing." she responded. I could tell she was taking this pretty hard, and despite my lack of libido toward her, the last thing I wanted to do was hurt her. "Maybe you'd be happier if I just left you to jerk off, or hook up with Brenda. Is that what you want?"

"Marti, you know I love you more than anything. And you know I'd do anything at all to prove it to you."

"Anything? Do you mean that?"

"Of course I do," I said, while in the back of my mind I was thinking that maybe I wouldn't really do anything. But if it made her feel better, and would take her mind off my masturbatory habits, I guess I'd try.

"OK then, I'll make a deal with you."

Uh oh. She'd become Monty Hall.

"After I started noticing the little mess you were leaving in your pants, I started doing some reading. And I've come to the conclusion that there's really only one thing that's going to change your ways and make you focus your attention and energies on me. But you'll probably never go along with it."

Was that a challenge? "Well, try me," I said.

"Here's the deal. I'll do my part by trying to make myself into a new and exciting Marti. I'll get a makeover and try some new clothes. In fact, you might not even recognize me by the time I'm finished my transformation. How does that sound?"

Already my juices were starting to bubble. Just the thought of her turning herself into something different was an exciting prospect. "Sure, that sounds great!"

"Of course it, does, Michael. But you're going to have to do something for me too."

"OK, just name it." Maybe I was being a little too cooperative, but I liked the idea of the makeover.

"I want you to wear a chastity belt."

"A what?"

"A chastity belt. You know, like the fair maidens wore in medeval times?"

"Huh? Why would I want to do that? And besides, you know I've never cheated on you."

"It's not about cheating per se," she explained. "One of the books I read was by that sex therapist that's on TV all the time, Dr. Richard Grundvald. It turns out he's worn a chastity belt for the last 15 years and credits it completely with not only saving his marriage but adding a spark where there hadn't been one for a long time."

"I dunno, Marti. That sounds a little weird to me. And besides, where are you going to get a chastity belt for a man? They don't even make them, do they? I've certainly never seen one on the rack at Walmart."

"I've looked into that as well, Michael, and you'll be pleased to know there's a company on Long Island that's been building chastity belts for both men and women for several years."

Pleased wasn't exactly my reaction. Shock, horror, dismay, grief? Take your pick. But certainly not "pleased."

"OK, let me get this straight. I wear a chastity belt and you get a makeover and everything's fine, right?"

"Well, it might get a little more complicated than that," Marti said, "but that's the basic idea."

"How long do I have to think about it before I have to make a decision?" I asked her. Maybe with a little bit of time I could worm my way out of this mess.

"You have until next Thursday. Because I've already called Access Denied and set up an appointment for you to be fitted for your chastity belt. I figured what the heck - if you didn't agree to it, I could always cancel the appointment before I started calling divorce lawyers."

Less than two weeks later, I returned home from my three-day trip to Long Island with a shiny new pair of stainless steel underpants. Not to mention a gigantic knot in the pit of my stomach. After a full day of measuring and fitting, I was the unlikely owner of a brand new, custom made male chastity belt.

I'd no sooner reached the door connecting the house and garage when Marti met me grinning like the proverbial Cheshire Cat. "So let me see it! Have you tried it on? Does it fit? Is it comfortable? How long do you think it'll take you to get used to wearing it?"

"Slow down a little, Marti. I just got in the door after driving for six hours. Give me a break, will you?"

I could tell from her reaction that she didn't like my tone of voice. But I hadn't counted on her reaction.

"Michael," she said, in that demeaning way my mother used to say it when I'd been bad, "you'd better check your attitude at the door and start over again with me. That belt could become your best friend or worst nightmare, and it's your attitude that's going to determine that. So since you're not in the mood for pleasantries, let's just get down to business and lay out some ground rules."

I was half tempted to ask for some ID, since the Marti I knew and loved had never ever displayed such a take charge manner. Little did I know that this was only the beginning.

"First of all, put on your belt and come back in here to model it for me. And bring the keys with you."

Already I was nervous, because I knew that it was going to take some time for my body to adapt to the idea of wearing a highly restrictive metal belt that completely encased my genitals. I had counted on a week or two of trial wearing before even deciding whether I was still going to go along with this arrangement. And now she wanted the keys. Oh brother...

I carried the cardboard box containing the chastity belt into the bedroom and began to strip in front of the mirror. I was hardly John Holmes, but I had always prided myself on being pretty well built and especially pretty well hung. Stuffing my manhood into a confining metal tube was going to take its toll on my pride, I just knew it. I took a mental picture of myself in the mirror and in the back of my mind knew that it might be a long while before I would admire my manhood again. After finally getting myself all strapped in and closing the locks on the waistband and penis tube, I slowly made my way back to the kitchen.

"The keys, please," she ordered. I complied.

"OK, here's how this works. While you were out of town I sat down and made up a scoresheet. You're going to have to earn your way out of that belt by doing things to please me or to help me around the house. Every positive thing you do is worth a point. As you can see here on the list, things like doing the dishes or a load of laundry, vacuuming the house, making coffee in the morning, and preparing my bath will be worth one point each. And there's a "Random Acts of Kindness" category where I can award you a point for little courteous acts like holding a door for me or lighting my cigarette. And every time you're able to bring me to orgasm, you'll earn two points."

"But Marti," I interrupted. "How am I supposed to bring you to orgasm when I'm wearing this thing?"

"You'll have to come use your ingenuity, I guess. But here's a hint. You have fingers and you have a tongue. And in case they didn't tell you, I also ordered a dildo and adapter from Access Denied, so you'll be able to pleasure me that way without ever taking off the belt."

Could it get any worse, I thought to myself? But she had only just begun.

"On the flip side, every time you do something to displease me, you lose two points. Not taking the trash out on collection day, forgetting to put your dirty clothes in the hamper - that sort of thing. And especially showing disrespect toward me like you did when you came in the door. I'm simply not going to tolerate that kind of behavior from you anymore, Michael. And should I catch you surfing the porn sites on the Internet or stopping off at the Lace Slipper with Ed or making goo-goo eyes at Brenda, it's going to cost you five points. So as you can see, it's a lot easier to lose points than it is to earn them.

For every twenty points you earn, I'll do something toward making myself more appealing to you. I have an appointment at the beauty shop for two weeks from today, and I'll keep it if you're able to reach that total by then. And for every fifty points you earn, I'll let you out of the belt for a period of time I'll determine. I might let you have sex with me, or I might let you jerk yourself off depending on my mood at the time. But I'll warn you now that any time you have the belt off, you'll have your hands cuffed as my little safety valve that you'll go back in again when I say it's time. Of course, you could still refuse - and that's your choice - but you'll be seeing me in court, because that will bring the whole game to an end. Are there any questions."

"Yeah," I said, "how did you get so fucking devious all of a sudden?" I grumbled.

"Gee, Michael, I'm sorry to have to tell you that you're starting out with a negative balance of two points. Would you care to continue?"

From that point on my life changed dramatically. I was no longer master of my own domain, and felt as though I was spending every waking hour tending to Marti's needs. She was living a charmed life, and I was feeling a little bit put upon. But I had to admit that her plan was working at least to some degree. After having the belt on for about 48 hours, I would have given anything to have sex with her. And I had a feeling she was well aware of that, because she was teasing me constantly by rubbing her breasts across my back or caressing my ass whenever our paths crossed. I was definitely lusting for her, and it was the first time in a long time that I could honestly say that.

I earned my twentieth point by sending flowers to her office the day before her beauty appointment. As she was about to head out the door for the appointment, she made it a point to stop in my office. "You're sure you don't like my hair?" she asked.

"Nah, not particularly. It kind of reminds me of Mrs. Cleaver these days."

"OK, I just wanted to be sure you were sure."

I was in the kitchen fixing a snack later that afternoon when the door opened and Demi Moore walked in. Or at least I thought it might be Demi Moore, because the woman standing before me had an extremely short buzz cut.

"You said you didn't like my hair, so I decided to just have it all cut off. Do you like it now?"

I'm not even sure what I stammered, because the combination of shock and excitement took the words right out of my mouth. This was a change alright, and a huge change at that, but I had to admit that she looked stunning in a way I'd never anticipated nor imagined. This woman to whom I'd been married for twelve years was even more beautiful than I had ever before noticed. Her head was shaped nearly perfectly, and her cheekbones were accentuated without hair framing her face. Even her nose was... "What's that?" I asked.

"Just a little something that caught my eye when I was walking back to the car. I figured a gold nostril ring might be just the thing to take your attention away from my hairless head. And you always told me you thought that girl on Big Brother looked sexy with one."

"I did, but I... I... wow." I was melting. I could feel the tube getting tighter on my penis and I knew that I wanted this "new" woman right then and there. "Do you think maybe you'd let me make love to you this afternoon?" I asked, hoping that maybe she'd give in.

"I'm afraid I can't do that. But if you're hot for me now, imagine how hot you're going to be in a few more weeks once you've earned your fifty points. I probably should deduct two points for begging for release - it's on the scoresheet, you know - but I'll let this one slide since you obviously like my new look. And I can hardly wait to surprise you with my next little enhancement since I already have an idea what it'll be."

I earned four points that night alone by bring her to orgasm, first with my tongue and then with the dildo that attached to my chastity belt. I couldn't wait to get my first fifty points.

Over the next two weeks I was the perfect little house husband, and finally it was time for my release. Marti took me in the bedroom and, as she had promised, cuffed both my hands to the bedpost. She took the key from the thin gold chain she wore around her neck and for the first time in a long time, my cock was not encased in steel. We made love that night with more passion and energy than I ever remembered, and after a few minutes of kissing and cuddling we repeated the whole process. Marti let me sleep without the belt on that night, although I was still cuffed to the bedpost to prevent "unauthorized access" as she called it. The next morning was Saturday, and as I awoke slowly, I realized Marti was standing next to me. She had a small basin of warm water on the nightstand and a cloth in her hand, and proceeded to very gently and lovingly wash my private parts before finally locking me back in to my belt. All in all, I thought, it could be worse.

With my hands still cuffed to the bed, she walked around to the other side and sat down beside me, tracing her fingertips around my nipples lightly. "Do you mind if I smoke?" she asked.

This caught me a little off guard since she'd been a smoker since we'd met back in college, and she'd never asked that before. "Sure, why not?"

She proceeded to open the drawer to the nightstand and pulled out a new gold lighter and what appeared to be... a long thin cigar? "Uhhh... since when do you smoke cigars?" I asked.

"Since I found that "Chicks With Sticks" web site bookmarked on your computer. Apparently you like women who smoke cigars, and you've kept it from me all these years." Boing! I could feel my little metal prison closing in on my cock as she lit up. "And I've always wanted to try it to see what the big deal was. Turns out I like them a lot more than cigarettes."

I could only lie there, bound to the bed with my cock and balls surrounded in steel, and watch in amazement as this woman who had seemingly reinvented herself leisurely smoked her cigar.

"Now that you've made it through your first period of release, it wasn't so bad, was it?" she inquired.

"To be honest, Marti, I thought it would be a lot harder than it was. I've known all along that I should be helping out more around the house, and that sometimes I don't show you the respect I should. So this has sort of opened my eyes to that." Maybe this was all she needed to hear, I hoped, and she'd take the belt off and I could from that point on worship the goddess she'd become almost overnight.

"I'm glad to hear you say that, Michael, I really am. Because I thought it was relatively easy for you as well. So I think this time around we'll have to up the ante a little bit. I'll do my thing for you after 30 points, and you'll get released again after 60. And maybe we'll continue to add 5 or 10 points each time until we've reached a realistic limit."

"So you mean I'm going to have to keep wearing this thing indefinitely?"

"I'm afraid so, dear. I think it might be a while before I'm finally convinced you've changed your ways."

The next 30 points were a little tougher, and when Marti came home from her next self-improvement outing, she had a delicate band of flowers encircling her upper arm. "You got a tattoo?" I gasped.

"You said you thought Brenda looked 'hot' when she got hers."

"Yeah, but..."

"Well, do I look hot?" she asked as she lit up a fresh panatella from her new humidor.

Arrgghhhh. Only thirty more points and I'd be able to show her just how hot I thought she was.

For the next two years, Marti continued to add points to my total until she finally decided that 125 was sufficient to earn my release. This meant that I stayed under lock and key for about 45 to 60 days at a time. Each time was followed by sex that shattered all previous records. Only once, when she was having her period, was I relegated to masturbating with my cuffed hands.

About two years later - five years after I first locked that steel band around my waist - Marti told me it was time to talk about the future. In that time she had become my own personal fetish goddess, and I absolutely worshipped the ground she walked on.

"I'm certainly pleased with the progress you've made, Michael. You've become the perfect husband and - at least for me - sex has never been better. Of course, I do get to orgasm a lot more often than you do thanks to that skillful tongue of yours and that amazing strap-on. But I've been thinking lately that maybe it's become all about me and that I haven't really taken your needs into consideration as much as I should. Especially since you've worked so hard to please me." She took a long, slow drag on her cigar and exhaled the smoke gently from her nostrils. I watched as it curled around the thin gold ring still in her beautiful nose. "So I'm going to make you the same offer I made five years ago. I can turn over the keys to your chastity belt and move out into a place of my own, or you can sign this contract I've drawn up to continue the game for the next ten years. It's entirely your choice, and I'll understand perfectly if it's something that you just can't do anymore. So what do you think?"

"Where do I sign?"

THE END

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Page last updated 01-Jun-13 by: Altairboy@aol.com