The Chastity App

Ron sat on a large boulder and watched the waves.

He loved these moments of relative peace and quiet; time in which to enjoy the sharp briny smell, to appreciate the gentle lapping of waves. The sky grey and the breeze fresh.

And a relative nothing happening in his balls.

Nothing but a light vibration that filled his nuts and his life, making it difficult to concentrate.

He looked down at his cell phone, he had laid it on the rock next to him, and sighed.

Who would have thought a simple App could do this to him.

Of course, he hadn't had to go along with it. When Jen suggested the App, told him how much fun it would be, how connected they would be, how the sex would be so damned good, he had bought into it.

There were four settings on the App.

One was off.

Two was gentle but insistent.

Three was get horny but you can't cum.

Four was blow your wad.

Three was the worst, and that was Jen's favorite.

He spent his nights in Number Two, a gentle buzz that made him stretch and grin, and in which he could finally fall asleep.

But when Jen woke up and summoned him it was always a Number Three, and she kept him in Number Three all day long. A wave form that rose and fell, lifted him up to the edge of an orgasm, an orgasm that fell away before he could cum. And, if he tried to help out the buzz with a little handwork, it clamped down, put forth a frequency that kept him from climbing that final mountain to ecstasy.

All day long he would be on the edge, and it took all his energy to focus on a simple thought, to get past the raging, dripping boner in his pants and have just a simple thought.

Jen loved it.

She loved the way he clung to her, waited on her, was desperate to do her slightest bidding.

Kept constantly in this state of mind, his squirts coming few and far between, there was nothing he could do about it.

The hardware for the app was surgically inserted behind the perineum. Where it could send it's frequencies directly into his prostate, set off his root with a simple touch of her far away finger.

She never turned the App to Number One.

She only allowed him Number Two when he slept, and for a brief hour in the morning.

The rest of the time he was kept in Number Three, dripping pre-cum, his penis lurching, slave to her whims, hoping for the blessed relief of Number Four.

Number Four, which was rarely used. Maybe once a month or so. If he was lucky.

So mornings like this were his only respite. Just an hour while he couldn't sleep any longer, while she slept late and he was granted a few moments of relative peace and quiet to organize his thoughts, to get ready for the regimen of the day. A few moments in which he made his daily plan for keeping his cool before his cock was blasted and he had to force himself just to think.

So he sat on the rock, listened to the errant gull or two screech at him, and felt the moment of relative allowed by Number Two. Horny, erect, but not desperate. Just a comfortable feeling that built his cum levels. And then it hit.

Z-z-zing! He sat up, his dick lurching out to full mast. It was beyond his control, and his thinking skewed and the pleasure lit into him.

Quickly, he picked up his phone and ran to the car. Running got him home faster, and seemed to gentle the fierce throbbing. Though running was awkward with his dick stiff and large and uncomfortable in his pants.

He got into the car, groaning, wishing he could just cum, and turned the key.

Then he raced the gulls sailing alongside the road and hurried home, slave to his wife, and all because of an App.

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Page last updated 2015-Nov-27 by: Altairboy@aol.com