Once a Year

Before submitting this, I read through a lot of the other stories on your site written by men who are kept in chastity belts by their wives or girlfriends. A theme which comes up a lot is that they agreed to it without realising how frustrating it would be, how long their partners would keep them locked up etc. That never happened to me. I never had any choice about the predicament I'm now in. I've looked back over it time and time again, and can't see anything I could have done that could have prevented my life being turned into this living hell.

The simple fact is that, as she freely admits, my wife Anne is a sadist - she gets pleasure from seeing me suffer. Before long this began to affect our sex life. She would insist on tying me up and even whipping me before we had sex. I was never into BDSM at all but I fancied her so much that I would go along with it. Then one day, seeing my blissful contentment after a truly mind-blowing orgasm, she realised what would give her the greatest thrill of all - denying me this one pleasure that made everything else worthwhile.

Unknown to me, she did some research on the internet into chastity belts, and ordered what seemed to be most secure on the market. She also got hold of some sleeping pills and emptied several into my beer one night. I woke up late the next morning, feeling so groggy that I didn't immediately notice how my life had changed. But as soon as I tried to stand up, I realised that clamped around my waist was a solid metal belt, which connected at the front to a metal tube into which my penis was securely locked, and a ring that clamped around the base of my ball sack. The whole device was held in place by a hefty padlock.

I was just trying to head get my head around this when my wife came into the room.

"Ah, you're awake at last" she said with a smile. "It was hard to judge the dosage, and I needed to make sure you were sound asleep while I made the arrangements for the rest of your life."

"What... what's going on?" I asked blearily, still groggy from the drugs.

"You're now locked in the most secure chastity belt money can buy, and that's how you're going to stay. No more orgasms, or even erections."

"What have I done? I've always done everything you wanted. I thought we were happy?"

She shrugged, as if wondering why I couldn't understand something so simple. "Sure, honey. I love how you let me beat the crap out of you before sex, even though it's agony for you and doesn't turn you on at all. But lately I realised that I'd get even more of a thrill from denying you orgasms, watching your frustration build, hearing you beg and plead for release but always saying no. So that's what I'm going to do!"

I couldn't believe it, but she was as good as her word. Our sex life continued just as before, even with all the beatings, but now I couldn't even get an erection, let alone orgasm. I begged her time and time again to let me cum, but she just laughed. I promised I'd do anything at all that she wanted. She was having a fantastic sex life, and I asked how it hurt her if I was able to cum as well, just once in a while.

"Well that's the thing about sadism, honey" she replied. "Your misery and frustration, and knowing that I'm the cause of them, is exactly what turns me on. If I gave in and let you cum, that would mean less pleasure for me. And that's why it's never going to happen. Sorry honey, maybe it's not fair but that's how it is."

However, I think she knew that in order to keep me under her thumb she had to give me the faintest glimmer of hope, however illusory. She therefore announced one day, after my frustration had reduced me to tears yet again, that every year on my birthday I would be let out of my belt for one hour. Of course, she added, my hands would be cuffed behind my back so I couldn't take advantage of it, and I shouldn't count on her doing the honours either. But if nothing else I'd be able to get an erection.

I was so grateful I think I fell down and kissed her feet instinctively. Perhaps I thought that if I was out of the belt then somehow I'd manage to cum. I think she knew I was thinking this, and every year she manages to build up my hopes that I'll be able to do it and then deny me at the last minute.

Last year was typical. I tried everything I could think of, with no luck. I thought I might be able to insert my cock between two sofa cushions and get some friction that way, but she anticipated this and had taken the cushions off the sofa and left them on the floor. Just when I was starting to panic that the hour would soon be up, I heard her beckoning me into the bedroom. There was a quality in her voice I hadn't heard in a long time. Surely this didn't mean...

I was amazed by what I saw. There, lying on the bed, was an inflatable woman, fully pumped up and ready for action. I stood there open mouthed. Where she had even got such a thing?

"Well go on then," she said "It's your last chance. The hour's nearly up."

She sat down in a chair, and I realised she had no intention of leaving me alone during this humilating episode. But I was so desperate I didn't care. I lay down and attempted to insert my rock hard penis into the inflatable woman's vagina. But without any way of holding it still, I only succeeded in pushing it further away from me. I shuffled across the bed and tried again, with the same result, this time pushing it onto the floor. Anne was laughing hysterically at my predicament, but I didn't care. I rolled off the edge of the bed, falling at her feet, and made another attempt at entry. Finally I succeeded by forcing the doll up against the wall to hold it still. The sensation as the plastic vagina gripped my shaft was like a glorious, long-forgotten dream, and I began to thrust forward again and again. Oh God... yes... nearly there... nothing could stop me now...

Sssssssssssss...

What was happening? I looked up and saw my wife standing over me, holding a small plastic stopper between her beautifully manicured nails.

"Sorry darling, time's up."

I felt the inflatable woman going soft underneath me. I thrust desperately into it but only succeeded in driving the air out even faster. Soon it was nothing but a flat sheet of plastic. I sobbed and wailed in desperation.

"Oh don't take it so hard, honey, if you'll pardon the pun. You can always try again next year..."

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Page last updated 07-Aug-27 by: Altairboy@aol.com