Married and Chaste

We had been wed three days before but, after the ceremony and reception, hadn't consumated our union. Why? Well, we were both exhausted that evening and the next several days friends kept visiting. Also, my bride Angie had noticed something about me. After the last of our guests finally departed on the evening of the third day she suggested we sit on the sofa and have a chat. I was nervous but curious. As she preceeded me into the livingroom of the modest house I had inherited, I couldn't stop staring at her broad rolling bottom in the tight skirt she wore. My wife is a BBW, very full figured, the opposite of the slender women men are supposed to like, but she is exactly my type. As she plumped herself down on the sofa her substantial breasts gave a slight bounce. The hem of her already short dress rode even higher, giving me an eyeful of her generous thighs.

"Now," she said with a sly smile, "there're a few things I want to bring up. For starters, you practically worship me, Paul. I mean, when I ask you to take my stockings off you make it last as long as you can. And when I get dressed you watch me and look like you're going to start trembling, you get so caught up in my every movement. In fact, I've been adding a few extra wiggles and striking some poses to see how you would react. Are you aware that you moan sometimes when I do that?" She paused and then added, "And you haven't rushed me into bed. I know we've been busy with other things, but even so..." She left the thought unfinished. "So we're going to talk now."

I could only nod agreement. Then she fixed me with a penetrating stare and said in a no-nonsense voice, "Paul, you're going to tell me exactly what you've been thinking. Right now. And don't hold back ANYthing."

I licked my lips nervously, wondering if I was about to destroy my young marriage. Angie's emerald eyes stared at me from under her dark bangs. The pink in her plump cheeks was a shade darker than usual. I steeled myself and began to speak. "It's just that... You see..." I had to stop and then start over. "I've been having these -- thoughts -- about you, dear."

"Fantasies, Paul?"

"I... Yes." She wanted details. I went on, "I have this... fantasy... that you put me into chastity." I looked at her questioningly. She told me she knew what that was. "And then," I continued, "you keep me that way."

"I see," she said, warming to the idea. "But then how could we have sex, darling? And by that I mean how could YOU give ME pleasure? It's not just my appetite for food that's big, you know."

In spite of myself I began to get aroused. Was she thinking along the same lines as me? I took the plunge. "Angie, if you played along with my fantasy, if you put me into chastity -- and kept me that way -- I would give you all the satisfaction you needed -- by kissing -- and licking -- " I didn't have to say it out loud. She grinned broadly.

"You would, would you? That could keep you very busy in the bedroom. And do you know what else? I think that if I teased you and kept you excited, and didn't let you out of chastity, you would become better and better at making me happy that way. Why don't we try it? But it will have to be on my terms completely. Agreed?" Thrilled by her understanding and willingness I bobbed my head up and down. She told me, "For starters, you would have to do everything I say. And I assume that, with your need to make this a reality, you already have one of those chastity devices I've read about on-line. Don't you, Paul?" When I admitted that was true she told me to go and get it. On shaky legs I hurried to the dresser and produced a small box, opened it, fell to one knee as if I was proposing all over again, and offered it to her. She took the device, held it up, and admired it. "My, my. This wouldn't allow you to EVER have an erection, would it? And without a stiffy you couldn't get any relief, could you? And when you didn't get any release you'd become more and more obsessed with my body. Isn't that true?" In a voice choked with emotion I said all of that was the case. She decided out loud, "Then let's get started right now."

Angie led me to the bathroom and had me wash my crotch area. When I got hard she giggled and told me to go to the fridge and get an ice pack from the freezer. Using that I made the stiffness go away, after which she bent down and lovingly slipped the tube over my shrunken member. I gasped at the sensation of having myself restricted that way by a woman, after years of dreaming what it would be like. She clicked shut the lock, removed the key, took off the gold chain that circled her neck, and put the key on it next to the simple gold heart that already hung there. I was speechless as she refastened the chain and smiled at me. Everytime I got an eyeful of her deep cleavage I would also have to look at the small key with which she kept my manhood imprisoned. "Now," she said, "let's finish this discussion in bed. I'm sure it's going to be very interesting. And for me very rewarding." She chuckled at the expression on my face, a combination of gratitude and hope, with a hint of fear mixed in. Angie must have read that last sign because she said, "Now that I'm in control I might decide to be mean to you, Paul. Could you accept it if I was not nice all the time? If I was even cruel on occasion?" With my voice quivering I swore that I could.

We proceeded to the bedroom. She made me strip and stand naked before her. Then I had to undress my wife. For a change I wasn't trying to prolong the task. She had to make me slow down. I could see that she was increasingly enjoyng my frustration. Angie reached out and, with a feathery touch, teased my nipples. My yearning for her doubled in an instant. I stood there squirming, trying not to pull away. It felt so good but at the same time added to the torment of being in the tube. She said with a hint of threat in her voice, "If you can't stand still I'll have to send you back to the kitchen, this time to fetch a wooden spoon. Am I going to have to beat your bottom with one of those? Am I?" "N... no, dearest," I managed. "Oh no?" she shot back. "Not even if I want to? Just for my own fun? Are you disobeying me already?" I shook my head and stammered out that I was trying to be good. Angie relented and went back to teasing my chest. I was able to stay still but just barely. Then, after she let me finish undressing her, she lay back on our bed and parted her curvaceous legs.

"So," she said impishly. "Time to consumate our marriage. My way." I got into position and started stimulating her with my mouth slowly. We had only had sex a few times during our engagement. I guess I was holding back, hoping for something like this all along. Now I had mixed feelings. What would several weeks in chastity -- or longer -- really be like? I continued my gentle efforts, building her gradually towards a climax. She moaned happily and shifted her bottom around. I picked up my pace as she neared the no-turing-back point. And then it happened. My wife was seized by a terrific finish that went on and on. Her thighs squeexed the sides of my head. Then she subsided into a pleasant afterglow. After a moment she told me to begin again, even more slowly than before. I did and unhurriedly led her to a second eruption of pure pleasure. When it finally passed she sighed and said I should stay down there. My mind was filled with conflicting thoughts but, in the end, I knew that was where I wanted to be, and where I belonged.

Angie napped briefly. When she awoke she was pleased to see that, in the absence of other orders, I had stayed where she left me. Then she decided out loud that, even though I had behaved, I needed a session with the wooden spoon. When I asked why she explained that it was to prevent me from acting badly later. That seemed unfair but I already understood that backtalk wouldn't be tolerated. I was learning quickly. When I returned with the spoon she made me hold it between my teeth, like a dog with a bone. It was shameful to be naked, my chastity device on display, unable to assert my own will or even speak. She left me like that for at least five minutes, as if challenging me to object. When I didn't she eventually got up, took the spoon, and made me bend over. There was a torturously long pause and then, when I at last relaxed my guard, she smacked my sitter hard. Left, right, left, right. Each cheek suffered a dozen swats. I was writhing and biting my lips the entire time.

"See?" she said proudly when she had finished. "I can be MEAN. You don't mind if I get like that, do you? You want me to do whatever makes ME happy, don't you?" With my backside smarting terribly, I replied in a meek voice that I was her chastity slave and she could -- and SHOULD -- do whatever pleased her to me. Angie laughed and said that I had earned a reward. She led me to the living room and gestured for me to sit on a hard wooden chair. That didn't help my rump any but I swallowed the complaints that came to mind. She put on a CD of sensual music with a throbbing beat, straddled my thighs, and sat herself firmly on them. Then she began to rotate her wide hips, rub her breasts against my narrow chest, and kiss the air directly in front of my lips. My super-sexy wife was giving me a lap dance. It was the most erotic experience I could have imagined, except that I was still in chastity. It went on through the entire song. Another started and she reversed her position so that her back was to me, her bottom doing most of the work of driving me to distraction. At the start of the third number she turned around again.

Along with the lap dancing she leaned forward to whisper in my left ear, "I know you want to have real sex. I know you want to get out of that chastity and shove yourself into my soft, warm, wet pussy." Then she switched to my right ear. "But even more than that, you want to make me happy by staying in your snug little tube. You really want to be a good slave and focus on my pleasure while I ignore yours." It went on and on like that, back and forth, until I felt like I was getting a split personality. The entire disc played and when it ended I was trembling uncontrollably. Angie rose, laughed, and told me to "Stay, boy." I did and several minutes later she returned wearing a lace teddy that hugged her oversized curves, as well as a pair of shiny black stiletto heels.

"You know," she told me, "this is going to get very interesting. I wonder if I can break you of the habit of wanting ordinary sex and reprogram you so completely that all you'll think about is giving me oral satisfaction. Wouldn't that be exciting? And then I'd let you out of chastity just long enough to put yourself inside me for a few moments. That would bring back all the memories of how much you used to love normal sex. And we'd have to begin the entire delightful cycle of reconditioning your mind all over again. Just imagine what a state I could put you in by, let's say, our first anniversary." She chortled wickedly. "It's going to be so amusing, finding out how many ways I can take advantage of the chastity fantasies of a compulsive obsessive like you, Paul."

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Page last updated 2010-May-12 by: Altairboy@aol.com