The Simple Bet - Part 2

Authors note: A different story, "Family Planning" is found here. Comments and suggestions are welcome - locked2lose100@yahoo.com

It has been nine weeks since Linda returned from her trip to Tokyo, minus her laptop and two very important keys; keys to my surgical grade stainless steel chastity cage. Add together the three months I was locked up before she left on her trip and I had been locked and denied an orgasm for more than five months. Never, and I mean never, make a bet with a woman without knowing the terms. Even then it is probably best to avoid taking the bet.

Linda told me how she had talked to airport security before she called me, and they promised to do what they could, but they said the chances of getting a stolen laptop back in such a busy international airport were pretty much zero. She had a stack of papers in various colors and a mix of Japanese and English on them that she had to fill out and take to the airline office to file a claim, but she told me they were less than helpful. After all, she was the one who lost the laptop, not them. It didn't happen on their airplane. If the bag had been checked and it was in their possession then maybe they could have done something.

I offered to help her shop for a new laptop, but she was pretty insistent that the company owed her a new one since it happened on company business. A few days later she came home with a laptop identical to her old one. Her boss agreed that they owed her another computer, and since the first one she had was part of a batch they bought she ended up with another one from that group. Of course, and she was not happy with her boss for this - her boss got a new computer and ended up giving her his old one. The IT guy stripped the machine bare and now she had to restore everything from the backup files she had.

Linda's job was gearing up to make a bid on a new project with a new client, and since she came back from Tokyo it felt like she was always busy, always tired. My own job was in jeopardy due to our CEO upsetting two major clients and they pulled out, taking several connected accounts with them. I was reduced to part-time and likely would be unemployed if they did not secure at least one more new client very soon. This left me with a lot of time on my hands, a wife too busy to spend much time with me, and a securely locked chastity cage on my cock. I was feeling pretty low and even considering going to see a shrink about my depression - but how would I explain it to him?

Linda told me during the original lock-up of the bet that I was becoming more attentive to her needs. Without realizing it I was helping out around the house. More and more I was doing the cooking and cleaning. I was doing the laundry and the shopping, letting her have time to relax and unwind. Now that I was only working part-time and with Linda working so many extra hours I found that I was doing all of the work at home. The oddest part is that I had not even realized how much I had taken on, and it never bothered me. It felt like something I should be doing and I did it.

Even though Linda was busy from work, she still made sure that I gave her some attention in the bedroom, going down on her several times a week. This was most true on the nights she worked late. It seemed the later she worked the more she needed my tongue to help her unwind.

A few more weeks passed like this and I slowly stopped doing things around the house. Why bother? What was my incentive? Linda never noticed, I never got to get out of my cage and it just didn't seem to matter.

I had just finished licking Linda to another orgasm when I heard her ask with some concern in her voice, "what is going on with you, Mark?"

I extracted myself from between her thighs and moved to lie next to her on the bed, my face turned away. I know what I wanted to say. I wanted to tell her I needed to be free from this cage. I wanted to have my job again where I was important and what I did mattered. I wanted to be her husband and be a man again. Instead I was silent.

She gently stroked my back and shoulder, then kissed me gently on the side of my neck. She rarely showed me affection any more - and it usually was a blessing since all her affections did was make my confinement even more frustrating. "Please, it's obvious that you need something. I need to know. I'm your wife. Tell me."

How could she even wonder what was wrong? Wasn't it obvious? How could she need to ask?

"Oh sweetie, please talk to me..."

"You mean about how I am losing my job and I'm not important to my company? Or maybe how I am not you husband anymore and how I miss having sex with you? I want to be a man. Not, well, whatever it is I am now."

"What do you mean you are not my husband and we don't have sex? We just finished . . . " She interrupted herself with a sharp intake of breath. "Oh, you mean that you want . . . oh shit. How could I be so selfish? I mean it was just the way we had been doing things for so long - for months and months. I . . . I guess I had just gotten so used . . . I am sorry. It just seemed so natural and so satisfying. You never said anything."

"What was I supposed to say? I thought it was pretty obvious that I wanted to have sex with you and it is also pretty obvious that I have this metal prison on my cock!"

"I know it's obvious. I just got so used to seeing it like that. What can I do?"

"That's the problem. Nobody can do anything. I even tried to see if the lady who made the chastity device would send a replacement key, and she said she couldn't do that. I tried asking her why and she said that if I was locked without the key then I needed to get permission from whoever had the key, and has refused to answer any more email since."

"I'll try to reach her in the morning . . . " Linda offered.

"It won't matter. I want to some chat rooms with other guys locked up, and they said they have tried all sorts of things and the answer is always the same - no. Two guys even tried going to locksmiths. One had a locksmith try to drill out the lock, but all it did was screw up the keyhole and the friction made the cage so hot it burned his skin. He couldn't even do anything to treat the burns! The other guy ended up going to a kink aware locksmith and he simply refused to try."

Tears rolled down my face and I began my final descent into complete despair. The only thing stopping me were Linda's arms around me and the feeling of her body pressed against me. Her touch was loving, not sexual, and it is the only thing that saved me. Eventually I drifted mercifully into unconsciousness. The next three nights Linda made an effort to be home at a reasonable hour. I knew she had work to get done and she was falling behind, but I also needed to have her in the house, with me. I didn't care that she spent a lot of the time with her laptop on, working. She was there to talk if I needed to hear her voice.

On the third night she came to me and asked me to come to bed with her. "I know it is tough for you, but I have needs of my own. Please, I need you to make me feel good." After finishing she pulled me to her and kissed me. "I think that I am going to take tomorrow off and see if we can't find you a way out of that cage," she told me. "now get some sleep."

Could she really have a way for me to get free? My mind raced and I could not wait for the morning to come. When it finally came she got up with a kiss and smile and said we had some places to visit. Twenty minutes later I found myself following her into the doors of an adult bookstore. I had no idea how this was going to help me, but I tried to be positive.

"Is Kayla here?" I heard Linda ask the cashier.

A moment later we were ushered back into the storeroom that doubled as the office. Kayla was a stunning woman with jet-black hair and high cheekbones. She dressed in a basic black T-shirt with the shop's logo on the front and some tight fitting jeans that made me wince as I started to get stiff inside my cage.

"I'm Linda. Tis is Mark, my husband."

"Right. You spoke to me on the phone the other day. I can certainly understand your quest for some help. Let me take a look," she said, pulling on some latex gloves.

I stood there for a moment before realizing that both women were staring at me and waiting for something. Linda smiled and nodded at my pants, "she needs to see the cage, silly. Unless you don't want her to look at the lock and see if she can open it . . . "

The words finally sank in and in seconds I was standing with my pants and underwear around my ankles. Modesty be damned if this woman could get me free.

"Ahhh... I see you spent some real money and bought the upgraded version. " Kayla manhandled my genitals in their steel container, twisting in various directions to look at the lock and the cage itself. I found myself growing hard and straining against the steel tube.

Kayla sat u and pulled the gloves off her hands. "I'm afraid that I can't help you. Nobody can get you out of that cage."

"What?!?" I sobbed. I could not believe what I was hearing. Linda looked a bit startled as well.

"This is the Level 4 locking device, right?"

Linda affirmed that was what she had ordered.

"Well, nobody can open the Level 4 device locks. Didn't you read the paperwork when you ordered it? The manufacturer has several patents on the locks, and as a term of selling the cage with the Level 4 lock you agreed that you were not buying the lock, but leasing it for 125 years."

"I remember something like that in the paperwork. Seemed a bit odd, but since I won't be around to use it by then I didn't pay much attention," Linda said.

"Here's how it works. They are very protective of their intellectual property. When you ordered the lock you signed a contract that said you agreed that the lock was their property, and that it has a value of $500,000. If you in any way try to render the lock useless, such as drilling it or picking it they will treat your actions as industrial espionage. And because you signed and agreed to the high value of the lock that makes it a Class A felony to tamper with the lock. Whoever messes with it is going to jail - for years."

Kayla continued, "go home and read the rest of the contract. If somebody opens or attempts to open the lock without the key and has your consent then you are in breach of contract and are liable. One young man got caught in a nasty divorce when his loving bride wouldn't let him out every week like he wanted. She left him and left him locked. He got a buddy to somehow get the lock open. His buddy got sentenced to 20 years and he got sued for $3.2 million. He no longer had anything because of the divorce and he is now working off his debt as an employee at the manufacturing plant where they make the locks. Rumor is they fitted him with a new version of the lock as part of his settlement."

"That's just bull...." I started to yell. I stopped.

"Don't believe me? Check the court documents. Lockrite Inc. v. Damon Jenks. Yo can also find the divorce papers where the wife made sure he did not get custody of the keys - Brittny Jenks v. Damon Jenks. His buddy is Geoff Harker. Do a criminal records search on him. Heck, go visit him at the state penitentiary. He's the guy that managed to open the lock."

Linda thanked her for her time and insight. I pulled up my pants and walked in silence back to the car. I don't remember anything else. I don't remember the drive home. Or if Linda even spoke during the drive. Tears ran down my cheeks and all I could think about was that there was no escape.

Back at the house I went to the spare bedroom and collapsed on the futon. I had no energy to do anything. I slept and woke, then cried myself to sleep once more.

The house was dark and silent when I woke up again. Linda had left a sandwich and an orange next to the bed for me. I nibbled a few sections of the orange and couldn't eat anything else. Then I finally became aware of the signal coming from my bladder, so I got up and used the toilet. From the bottom of the stairs I could look up and see a dim light shining through the partially opened door of our bedroom. I slowly made my way to the top of the stairs, not sure what I would say to my wife, or if I even wanted to hear what she would say to me.

"...hitting him harder than I expected. He's been sleeping all day, and I thought I heard him crying earlier. It is really a lot harder on him than I would ever have thought . . . " came Linda's voice. I peered into the room and just was able to see her on the bed with her laptop open and her Bluetooth headset on, talking on her cell phone. I wished we had a landline phone so I could pick up the other extension and listen in. I wanted to know who she was talking to - who had she shared this with?

I listened a few more moments. ". . . no, those were good. The sites look fine and the documents are very thorough. It will be more than what I need. Certainly the extra background documents will be nice if I need them. . . . " She was talking work again. So she must have shared with a co-worker. I wonder who? I decided to let her keep working and returned to the other bedroom to try to sleep some more.

In the morning I felt a little better. All of that sleep helped me recover somewhat. I headed into the kitchen and found Linda pouring a fresh cup of coffee. "I'm going to have to go to work this morning. I was just waiting to make sure you were okay before I left."

"I think I'm okay."

"Well, this is not going to make your day any better, but you need to know about this," she set a stack of computer printer paper in front of me. "I looked up what I could find about the Lockrite locks and the case of that Harker guy. He really is in jail - they called it industrial espionage and burglary. And I found a news story about the divorce and bankruptcy of Damon Jenks. He really did lose everything in the divorce. His wife is remarried and living in his house about 100 miles north of town."

She checked? I hadn't thought to. I guess eventually I would have. But here it was, the results from her web searches printed out and ready to read. I guess I knew it was the truth, even though it sounded so odd. I didn't want it to be true, but why would Kayla make something like that up?

"I'll be okay. I'll figure something out. Maybe I just need a good hobby . . ."

[ Story Continues in Part 3 ]
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Page last updated 2011-Jul-02 by: Altairboy@aol.com