The day was September 30th, and Michael was feverishly beating his dick at his wife’s feet while she occasionally glanced down from her phone to shake her head in bewilderment and offer up another humiliating jab at his expense…
“Are you going to cum or not?!”
“You’d better hurry up because once that clock strikes midnight, that thing is mine…”
The truth was that Michael had already came that day – seventeen times, to be precise – with the reason for his latest delay in gratification because his dick was nearly raw and by that point his balls felt like they couldn’t usher forth another drop of cum if their freedom depended on it … which in this case, it actually did, for when the clock on the wall did strike midnight and the calendar turned the page from September to October, Michael would officially find himself at the mercy of the kinky holiday that he’d spent all year begging his wife to let him take part in.
Locktober – a play on the month of October for submissives specifically interested in chastity play.
The challenge was to spend the entire month with one’s genitals locked up tight in a chastity device, meaning no sex and definitely no masturbation!
Erika took a little convincing to elevate their occasional femdom dynamic to the next level, but when her husband explained how not only would he commit to waiting on her hand and foot for the entire month, but also subjecting himself to whatever cruel tease and denial games she felt like concocting while his dick was locked away with the only key dangling just out of reach on a shiny, gold necklace around her neck?
She was in, and to usher in Locktober properly, she had decided after several weeks of kinky deliberation, Michael was to spend the entire last day leading up to his month in chastity cumming on command, whenever and wherever the budding dominant wanted…
The first few, of course, were throwaways – so easy that she even allowed him a modicum of privacy to jerk one off in the morning in bed and another while he was getting ready in the shower. But it should’ve been a hint when the man came out to find only a leather collar and a pair of matching bondage cuffs waiting where he normally left his clothes for the day that his wife had no intent on letting him off easy for his last day of freedom with his dick in his hand.
“You realize that you’re not going to get to cum at all over the next 31 days, right?” Erika had taunted him as he lay flat on his back in the middle of their bedroom floor earlier, staring up underneath his wife’s sundress savoring the view as he stroked himself while the woman occasionally toyed at his nipples with the toe of her shoe.
“Don’t think that halfway through I’m going to have pity on you and let you out of this early,” she had warned as the two stood close with her staring into his eyes while he jerked his dick to the sounds of her menacing voice.
“You begged me way too much for this not to have me see to it that you get the full experience of submitting to your wife in chastity that Locktober seems to be about,” she had explained emphatically as his strokes alternated with whimpering as Michael struggled with the physical gymnastics of kneeling on his hands and knees with his lips plastered to the toe of his wife’s favorite leather boots while he struggled to cum for only the tenth time since he’d gotten up early that morning.
Over and over again, Michael had orgasmed repeatedly that day until his directive itself had almost become its own form of bondage that he had willingly opted to submit to.
As the day went on he filled tissues, he filled condoms, he even came all over himself, all the while his wife had looked down on him, studying his every release as he slowly inched closer to locking himself up for her. She didn’t entirely understand it, yet his determination to submit to his own desires intrigued her in a way that made it easier for her to jeer and jab at his ego in the ways that the books had told her she could mold him into the ideal submissive.
Suck a man’s dick and he’ll buy you a ring; lock up a man’s dick and he’ll massage your feet every night of the week…
“Time’s almost up!” Erika chimed, dangling the shiny, steel cage that he had ordered online but hadn’t actually seen with his own eyes until that day.
Erupting into a sticky mess as he let out an exasperated gasp, Michael’s eyes dropped from his wife’s back to her feet where he spotted a small droplet of cum had landed squarely on her black leather pump. Still catching his breath as he slowly dared to glance back up in Erika’s direction, the man knew what needed to follow without his dominant wife even needing to say a single word.
He leaned forward and closed his eyes, and soon enough his lips found not only the familiar taste of leather, but also the salty remnants of his latest climax as he defeatedly licked the misplaced cum from the toe of his wife’s shoe.
He lingered past the undesirable taste, lost in subspace as he embraced his submissive side with his lips reverently resting on the designer heel, with his concentration finally broken as the authoritative tone of his wife’s voice suddenly jerked him back to reality.
“That’s midnight, slave! Now I think you have something that belongs to me…”
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