SPH-THEMED EROTICA STORIES

What led to last night started years ago. We’d been happily married for 20+ years. We were a mirror of the old cliché – sex was good at the start; kids and life changed that. I was bored, looking for new adventures; she was reluctant. I finally convinced her to try chastity and FemDom. It was a slow start until one particular night. I guess your husband licking his cum from your pussy until you cum three times changes a woman. That night, the night of my first creampie, I was tied up, caged, and blindfolded. Jasmine had clearly done some reading; whether that was articles and blogs or erotica, it wasn’t even a thought in my mind. The reality was, I wasn’t thinking much of anything. My cock was a drooling mess.

Jasmine had just pulled the vibrator from my cage. My back arched, hips thrusting into the air, cock craving any touch. I was leaking copious amounts of precum. Jasmine was collecting it on her finger and wiping it on my tongue. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t have stopped her. I didn’t want to, though. I had been hinting, asking, then begging Jasmine to try FemDom; that night she showed me what she’d been learning. It was more than I had expected.

“Remember, you asked for this,” Jasmine said in a mocking tone. “Before I’m done, you will beg me to stop. I know because I am not stopping until you do. And don’t try to fake it. I’ll figure it out, and there’ll be hell to pay.” I didn’t dare fake it. By ‘this,’ she didn’t just mean right now; she meant her pushing me, ‘making’ me do things I may not want to anytime or anywhere she wanted. My only recourse was a safeword that I’d promised myself I’d never use.

She was right; after what felt like an eternity, it was ‘only’ an hour. Jasmine later informed me that I was indeed begging her to stop. She’d edged me multiple times; my cock was super sensitive, more than it had ever been. “Please stop, I can’t take any more,” I whined. Not that she could really understand me through the ring gag she’d put in my mouth before she started on my cock.

I was surprised she actually stopped. “Let’s get you warmed up and practiced. Teasing you like that made me so wet, I need to cum. Unlike you, I am going to cum. With that, she slid her leg over my chest and lowered her pussy to my mouth. Did I mention there was a ring gag in? Well, there was. As she rested her pussy over the hole in the gag, I stuck my tongue out, parting her lips. I pressed my tongue into her as far as possible. Jasmine rocked a couple times then lifted off. “I think I’d rather cum on a cock.”

She slipped off me, unlocked and removed my cage. My cock instantly sprang to full size. “Don’t you dare cum before I do,” She told me as she straddled me and sank onto my cock. “Don’t cum before her,” I thought. “Yeah, I’d been edged mercilessly; I didn’t think I’d last 30 seconds.” Jasmine started bounding on my cock. I tried to tell her to slow down; I couldn’t last, but my words were nothing more than unintelligible sounds. I should have felt better about being right, but I didn’t. I moaned as I felt my cock spasm, shooting cum into Jasmine’s pussy. She knew what was happening and slammed all the way down onto me and ground her hips around.

“I warned you not to cum before me, and what did you do? You couldn’t even last 30 seconds. I guess it didn’t really matter; I couldn’t even feel you inside me, anyway.” Another first that night; it was the first time she’d introduced small penis humiliation. “That’s OK, I expected you not to be able to last. Still, I was hoping I’d feel you more than that.”

After lifting off me, she slid up my body and put her knees on either side of my head. I knew where this was going; I could see my cum leaking out of her pussy. I tried to turn my head but couldn’t. “You’re going to make me cum, one way or another. Since your tiny dick couldn’t do it, I’ll settle for your tongue. Your punishment should be pretty clear.”

With that, she sunk her pussy over my mouth. Not able to close my mouth due to the ring gag, my cum flowed from her pussy into my mouth. I didn’t like the taste at all. And if you’ve ever had a ring gag in, you know it’s very difficult, at best, to swallow, so the cum pooled in my mouth. Wanting to get this over as quickly as possible, I started fucking her with my tongue and worked my way up to her clit. It was long until she came. I was proud of myself at how quickly she did. Maybe it was my skill, or maybe it was the power and excitement of what she was making me do. Once she dismounted my face, she left me tied up with the gag in. Not wanting to choke, I didn’t try to swallow; I just lay there with my cum in my mouth. Jasmine showed a little mercy. When she took the ring gag off me, she let me spit instead of swallow.

Later, when we were further along our journey of FemDom, Jasmine told me that night was a turning point for her. Something clicked in her mind. From that point forward, taking control of our sex life felt very natural to her. She just needed to learn how to do it.

Fast forward to yesterday, about a year after that night. I’d eaten my cum more times than I can remember. I didn’t really grow to enjoy it; it was more something I tolerated as part of the price for Jasmine embracing FemDom. That, and lots of impact play, which I enjoyed, and even more humiliation – both ‘general’ and small penis. Humiliation was less enjoyable for me. But that was the point of what I’d asked her for. To take control regardless of my preferences. The last part of this was Jasmine taking an interest in pegging. I was surprised I didn’t mind that as much as I thought I would. In fact, I enjoyed it.

We were in a hotel about 100 miles from home. Jasmine wanted to see a play at the theater in town. A couple of her college friends were in it. We decided to make it a short vacation, arriving on Wednesday, seeing the show Thursday afternoon, and hanging out with her friends that night. Then we’d have Friday through Sunday to hang out and explore the area.

The play, to me, was eh… Jasmine loved it. Probably influenced because her friends were in it. After we met for dinner and drinks at a nearby bar, the ladies talked a lot; I sat and half-listened, not really interested in the conversation. Not sure if she planned it, wasn’t happy with me not participating, or if it was a spur-of-the-moment thing. My ears perked back up when I heard Jasmine ask one of her friends, “Have you ever tried bondage and chastity?” Talk about snapping back to attention. I felt my face get warm. Was she really going to tell them about our sex life? I told myself I didn’t think she would.

Her friend Audrey, who she always described as wild and outgoing, was the first to answer. “No, I’ve heard about it but never tried. What’s the likelihood a guy is really going to let you lock his cock up? Sure, in books and stories it happens all the time. I imagine in real life it’s not so popular.” The other two nodded in agreement. Michelle was blushing a little. I imagine our faces looked pretty much the same shade. Jasmine answered, “I don’t know, I bet it’s probably more common than you think. Probably one of those things that happen that no one talks about. Like blowjobs. For a long time it was considered taboo. Now, it’s table stakes for sex. Plus, I bet there are more small penises than we think. If books and stories are to be believed, chastity is perfect for small dicks. They can’t be felt anyway. Anyone been with a small docked guy?”

This time it was Rebecca that answered, “Once, in college. You remember when I dated Jason? Well, publicly we broke up because we just didn’t have chemistry. In reality, he was no more than 4 inches fully hard. That didn’t work for me.”

Jasmine pulled me into the conversation, “What do you say, Dan? You’ve been in many locker rooms and seen naked men. Are there a lot of small penises out there?” I blushed even more.

“I don’t really know; it’s not like I was looking at or measuring everyone’s dicks. Besides, it’s impossible to tell anyway; some are growers, and others are showers.” I thought that would get me safely out of the conversation. I was wrong; Jasmine made sure of that.

“Whatever, Dan. I’m sure guys look at each other more than any of you will admit. Well, except gay guys, they admit it just fine,” laughing at the last part. Then to the girls, “Do you look at guys’ crotches and try to see or guess size?” They all giggled, admitting they do. “And, have you ever thought any of them were wearing a chastity cage?” I was getting uneasy with the conversation. All of them said they’d never noticed someone wearing a cage. Jasmine followed up, “Do you think, if you were looking for a cage, you could tell?”

There was some giggling as answers rang out, from “not if it’s tiny” to “for sure, they’d be easy to spot.” Now I was definitely uncomfortable. I hoped this wasn’t going where I thought it was. Unfortunately, it became clear pretty quickly it was. Jasmine started pointing out men and asking the group if they thought they had a cage on or not. I tried to stay out of the conversation, but she was not going to let that happen. After the first couple, after the ladies answered for each new person, Jasmine specifically asked me. I answered no to all of them. I had no idea, and I really wasn’t looking. Noticing, she started to chide and challenge me. “Are you even looking, Dan? Or are you afraid you’ll see a bulge bigger than yours and get jealous? I mean, there’s no way you’d be the biggest guy in here; odds are there’s someone bigger.”

My face immediately exploded in red as the other ladies at the table all giggled. Rebecca jumped in, “Dan, it’s OK, Jasmin’s never complained about your size to me, and she tells me everything!” I don’t know if that was intended to be reassuring, but it didn’t come across that way. I stammered my reply, “It’s just th… that I don’t look at gu…. other guys’ crotches.” That triggered another round of giggling.

“Of course you do,” Audrey took over, “just like we all look at other women’s tits and asses and compare to ours. Guys look at each other’s dicks. Just admit it, it’s not like we all don’t know guys do it.” A chorus of ‘yeahs’ and ‘she’s right’ rang out. By now it was getting late, and alcohol had been flowing for a few hours; the women were starting to get a little boisterous, and others in the bar started to cast glances our way. What happened next left no doubt in my mind: Jasmine had a plan, and I wasn’t going to like it.

“I have an idea,” Jasmine said in a sweet voice that completely belied what came out of her mouth next. “Let’s all go ‘pick up’ a guy,” with her miming air quotes for pickup, “and bring them back here. We can all, uh, review them and guess the size of their package and if they are wearing a cage.” As she was saying this, Jasmine shot me a look. One I knew well.

All of the girls laughed, thinking Jasmine was just kidding. When she told them she wasn’t, they all looked at each other. I couldn’t tell who was for it and who was against. Audrey bit first. “Oh my god, that would be so fun! I already have my eye on my target.” Probably a combination of alcohol and not wanting to be the ‘prude’ of the group, each girl agreed. Audrey asked Jasmine, “What about you? Are you entering Dan in the competition, or are you going to try to find a ringer?”

“I hadn’t thought about that,” Jasmine replied. I knew that was bullshit. What I didn’t know is if Audrey was a knowing or unknowing part of her plan.

Audrey continued, “Well, it wouldn’t be fair if you entered Dan since you already know the answers to both questions. It’s only fair you find someone else to enter. Besides, you said ‘all,’ which means Dan has to review and guess as well. I don’t think we should make him pick up a guy, too. Though that could be fun,” she finished with a twinkle in her eye, making me realize she was either part of or knew of Jasmine’s plan. She then ended any hesitation in the group. “All right, ladies, let’s get to it,” she said, stood up, and headed over to a group of men who had been casting glances our way. The rest of the ladies followed suit. Where Jasmine was sitting made her the last person to leave the table. As she slid by me, her hand traveled to my caged cock. As she winked at me, she told me this was going to be fun. I guess, for her and the other ladies, it was.

I was not surprised how quickly the women roped men into their plan. Guys will do anything for a hot girl. When they returned, pretty much at the same time, they had the men line up facing the table, with their backs to the rest of the bar. They had all squeezed to the other side of the table, with Rebecca sitting on Audrey’s lap. Jasmine took over, “All right, gents. We’ve told you what we’re doing, so if you could stand side by side with your hands down by your sides.” With a wink to them, “If you want to try to help yourselves out, feel free to push your hips forward.” Two of them did, causing the ladies to giggle and call. Jasmine continued, “OK, ladies, from left to right, how big, using small, average, and large, do you think number one’s package is?” Not that they hadn’t already been, all of the ladies zeroed in on the first guy’s crotch. No one spoke, causing Audrey to open the floor, if you will. “I say average, and no cage”

After all the ladies answered, the consensus agreed with Audrey. When it looked like he was going to protest, Jasmine challenged him, “If you disagree, or any of you do, you’re happy to prove us wrong right here.” The challenge was clear: either accept the judgment, accurate or not, or ‘prove’ them wrong. The man just nodded and walked away. The ladies worked through the remaining guys. It was a mix of average and large. No one was judged small, and no one was judged to be wearing a cage. I’m sure much to their relief. Only one, the last guy, challenged and whipped out his tool in protest. The ladies conferred, which sounded more like a giggling session, then agreed to raise his rating to large. I think the guy was hoping to bed one of them, but was dismissed by the group. I noticed a man sitting at a couple of tables away watching intently. He just shook his head in what I interpreted as disgust, and turned to talk to the woman that had since joined him at the table.

“That was fun,” Jasmine said. Audrey quickly followed up, “I’m surprised only one whipped it out. Either the others were accurate, or they were too shy to try to prove us wrong.” Jasmine jumped back in, “There’s still one more chance, ladies.” My heart sank. Rebecca questioned her about who that was.

“It’s Dan, silly. He’s been sitting here watching the whole thing. Probably looking at packages the same as we were. Not like he’d admit it, though. I will recuse myself if you all want to guess Dan’s size.” Everyone looked at me. I wanted to sink into my chair, or get up and walk away. I didn’t, though. By this time I fully understood the consequences. What I didn’t understand was why Jasmine was doing this, other than the obvious she could, and how far she’d actually take it. Part of me hoped there’d be a little teasing about it, but the women would not want to, given that I was her husband. The other part of me wanted them to judge me. The answers came quickly; everyone started telling me to stand up. I looked to Jasmine for help. She just raised her eyebrows again; I knew my fate was sealed.

I slowly stood on weak knees and paused. Jasmine clapped her hands twice and told me, “chop chop,” in what the ladies took as a joking gesture. I knew this was our secret code to use in public when Jasmine wanted to switch to Mistress mode (though she didn’t like the word “Mistress”), our non-verbal instruction to follow her direction without hesitation. This was the first time she was using it for something so obvious. I stepped so my back was to the crowd, facing the ladies just like the other guys did. I gave Jasmine a pleading look, which she completely ignored. “Now ladies, what do you think I am working with here?” Because Jasmine made me wear my slightly larger cage with a pair of cargo shorts that fit me a bit more snugly than I would like, it looked like I was packing an impressive package. I took solace in the fact that the shorts were not tight enough for the bars to show.

Unsurprisingly, Audrey led the group. “Wow, Jasmine, I didn’t realize you were so lucky,” Jasmine smirked at her. The other ladies followed up, all appraising me as large. When they settled on the answer, I stepped to sit down. “Not so fast,” Jasmine stopped me, they haven’t answered about wearing a cage.”

Rebecca led the way this time. “With that package, how would he even fit into one?” she asked. “Not that I know much about them,” she quickly followed up, blushing. I made a mental note; maybe she has a kinky side. Not that it mattered to me, just a piece of information to file away. It must have been something about this group of ladies and herd mentality, but everyone else agreed with Rebecca’s assessment. And Jasmine didn’t let me off the hook; in fact, she sunk the hook deeper and twisted it.

“So, Dan, are the ladies right?” she asked me.

The answer is that I think I fall into the average category. That doesn’t stop Jasmine from telling me how small I am, how she can’t feel me. I knew where this was going, and I wanted to run to the bathroom or outside and get an Uber back to our hotel. As a reminder, I asked for this and even asked for it repeatedly. Well, maybe not exactly this, but I did want to be dominated. I hadn’t thought about humiliation as part of it; that was all Jasmine’s doing. She learned she enjoys it very much and had worked it into our sessions, and almost all of our fantasy discussions. Tonight we were going to play one of those out; that was clear. For me it was a mixed bag. I didn’t really enjoy it while it was happening, but thinking about what could happen before, and reflecting on it after, always got me hard. I also knew how I had to answer.

“No, Miss, they’re not,” I said as I cast my eyes down to the floor.

I heard a distinct gasp and a chuckle—the latter from Jasmine.

Audrey quickly asked, “Did you just call Jasmine Miss?” It wasn’t possible to melt into my shoes. I know because I tried. My face felt like it was on fire; the warmth spread to my neck, chest, and back. Addressing Jasmine as ‘Miss’ was required when we were playing. And now her friends heard it as well.

“Yes, ma’am,” I sheepishly replied. I was also required to call all other women ma’am and men sir. We did this frequently while out in public. It was subtle enough that only she and I knew what it was all about. Jasmine always told me how excited she got about our secret play in front of others. Not that she didn’t when we were at home, but this was an added element for her. And now she was taking it to the next level. Instead of a bunch of giggles and laughs as I expected, the women were quiet. I don’t think they knew what to say, which was impressive for this group.

Jasmine kept things going. “Why would they all be wrong, Dan? Is it the bulge they see in your shorts? Is that what’s confusing them?” she asked in a clearly mocking tone. Even the other women recognized it. With my eyes still downcast, I answered in a still shaky voice, “I think so, miss.”

“Well, if you’re saying you’re not large, why do you have a bulge that looks like it? Did you put a sock down your shorts hoping to impress my friends? I bet that’s what it is. Am I right?” she pressed on, still mocking. I seriously thought about using my safe word here. If you can believe it, I still had some logic left in my brain. If I did use the word, this would all end, and we’d likely head back to the hotel. The women would all know something was up; I couldn’t take that back now. I’m sure they’d figure it out and probably laugh about it in their group. That would be better for me; at least they wouldn’t be laughing at me directly. I didn’t use it, though. I realized that Jasmine’s teasing during play time was testing the waters to see how I reacted to what she was saying. She figured I would be OK with this. And I mostly was. Mostly, not completely. I have never been this embarrassed or humiliated in my life, and the feeling sucked. I reminded myself again tonight that this is what I begged her for, that I promised her no limits other than our agreed-upon hard limits. Yeah, I know, who still can think semi-clearly in this situation. I guess I could, but even I don’t know how.

“No, miss, there’s no sock in my shorts.”

Just as I was about to answer, one of the guys who was invited over and judged by the group early came over to Audrey and asked if she wanted to get a drink at the bar with him. When Audrey said she would later, he looked at me and realized why I was standing there. “So, ladies, what did you guess this guy as?” he asked, looking down at my crotch. Jasmine answered him, “Well, they judged him as large because of the bulge. Since I’m married to him and know the true answer, they were wrong, by the way. He was just about to tell them why it looked that way. He says he didn’t put a sock in his shorts to impress my friends.” The guy just chuckled as Jasmine continued, “You’re welcome to stay and hear the answer if you’d like.”

“No, I’m all set,” he answered, then looking at Audrey, “I’ll be at the bar for a bit if you want to come over.” He walked back to the bar without so much as a backward glance towards us. I’m pretty sure he didn’t know what to think.

“Now, where were we? That’s right, Dan was going to tell us why you’re wrong. Dan?” Jasmine was looking right at me as she said it. “What’s the bulge from if you’re not large?”

“Please, miss…” I begged her.

“Please what?”

“Please don’t make me do this.” I couldn’t see the looks on the other women’s faces. Jasmine later told me they ranged from slightly amused to quite confused. She admitted she was having the time of her life.

“Well, you know the consequences of not following orders. We can leave now, and I can take you back to the room, strip you naked, bend you over and spank your ass to a nice cherry red. Maybe we could do breakfast with these lovely ladies, and they can see you squirm, trying to sit still as your ass burns,” Jasmine scolded me.

That broke any resistance I had. Now there was no question in her friend’s minds what was going on here. And our previously secret life was now out in the open with her friends. I didn’t have enough logic intact then to realize we hardly see these friends, only once every two or three years. Still, they kept in touch regularly. And, regardless, I was standing there facing them right then.

I caught the eye of the guy a couple of tables over. He just shook his head in what I interpreted as disgust, and turned to talk to the woman that had since joined him at the table.

“Holy shit,” Rebecca said, “I’ve read books like this but thought it was all made up or exaggerated bullshit.”

“It’s not. At least for us,” Jasmine told her. “Now, Dan, no more stalling. Why are my friends wrong?”

No resistance now, just responding to Jasmine’s inputs.

“They’re seeing my cage, miss.” I dejectedly answered her.

“I know why,” she emphasized they I, “You don’t need to tell me. Tell them. And look at them when you do; it’s rude to look down when talking to others.”

From this point forward, I was on autopilot. I looked up at the group. Rebecca was a little wide-eyed, Audrey was smiling, and Samantha (she doesn’t get mentioned much; she’s pretty quiet most of the time) looked confused, maybe a little amused. I decided to focus on her when I talked, mostly because she was between Audrey and Rebecca. “It’s my cage you’re seeing.”

Jasmine immediately followed, not wanting to let anyone else ask questions and derail where she wanted this to go. “Yes, I guess it is. And why are you wearing a cage?”

The proverbial knife to the heart. Did I mention I was average size? It’s good for you to know that I am average because what I had to tell the group next may confuse that. My face could have lit a thousand bonfires with its heat. “I’m wearing it because you tell me my penis is too small for you, so you keep it locked up.” My head involuntarily dropped. I couldn’t continue looking at the women.

“Very good, Dan. I’m proud of you for being able to admit that to my friends. But it’s not just that I tell you your penis is too small; it is. You may sit down.” I did, and wrapped my trembling hands around my drink and stared at it. I didn’t want to see any of their faces, to know their reactions. Jasmine spent the next ten minutes or so explaining what was going on, our dynamic, and how we sometimes play. She didn’t go into great detail; that would have taken way more than ten minutes, but she did answer questions. When Samantha, of all people, said she’d never heard about cock cages, let alone seen one, Jasmine made me stand back up, facing the group again. “Dan, be a dear and show Samantha. She could go look it up, but what’s better than seeing something in person with your own eyes?”

When I didn’t move quickly enough, Jasmine said, “That’s ten. Are you going for more?” No one asked what she meant. Maybe they all knew, maybe they didn’t but were afraid or embarrassed to ask. I resumed the position in front of the ladies, back to the bar area. “Oh, and look at us when you show us. Make eye contact with each of us for 10 seconds each, and maybe you’ll earn your way out of the ten.”

Why did she have to make me look at them? Wasn’t having to show her friends my caged cock enough? What if others in the bar noticed? Yes, my back was to them, but still. As I unzipped my shorts, I forced myself to focus on them. Again, being in the middle, Samantha was my target. My hands still trembling, I opened the fly of my boxers and fished my cage out. I dropped my hands to my sides as my shoulders slumped. No big chorus of laughter, no mocking words from them. I counted ten seconds as quickly as I could without it seeming to be too short as I looked at each one of them. I was hoping Jasmine wasn’t actually timing this. The last person I made eye contact with was Jasmine; she had an amused look on her face.

“Ok, Dan, put that tiny thing away and sit down,” Jasmine instructed me. I tucked my cock back in, zipped my shorts, and resumed my position in my seat, staring at my drink.

The evening went on for another 45 minutes or so. Of course, the conversation was centered on me and what happened. Jasmine answered questions and talked about our play time. I didn’t pay attention and can’t tell you everything that was said. I slowly nursed my drink and prayed for the night to end quickly. Some of the conversation did break through my mental fog. I remember hearing “tiny” and “can’t feel” a couple times, some laughing, and even some surprised gasps. I remember Jasmine praising my oral skills, that she was glad they were good since my cock couldn’t satisfy her.

When their conversation ran out of steam, Jasmine announced that it was time for us to go back to the hotel. She announced that I had, indeed, earned my way out of ten paddles to the bare ass. I stood, quickly turned towards the door without looking at them again, and headed out. I did receive another look from the guy at the table; he pointed at me, then at the woman who was still there with him, and just smirked. Jasmine was a minute behind me, having said her goodbyes and given hugs. Later I learned there was one additional goodbye. It was a quiet ride back to the hotel.

Back in the room, Jasmine made me undress. “This weekend, when we’re in the room, all you will wear is the cage. Understood?”

“Yes, miss,” I answered.

When I was undressed, Jasmine told me how horny she was, how much humiliating me in front of her friends turned her on. “I need your mouth on my pussy now.” I spent the next hour worshipping her pussy, slowly building her up to one of her stronger orgasms. Savoring her taste, breathing in her scent. Her core was molten hot, much hotter than my tongue. Jasmine took me in her arms and held me, kissing my head and neck. This was one of her ways of checking in on me. She could tell by my body’s reaction if I was OK or not. I was at that moment. I had a lot to process. I processed none of it before I fell asleep.

*****

I slipped out of bed as quietly and gently as I could. I always get up before Jasmine, most often long before sunrise; she prefers to sleep in whenever she can. Placing a towel down on the chair, you know for hygiene reasons since I was naked, I sat and took in the silence. Mornings like this give me time to think without distraction. Even turning the TV on would wake her, and I don’t want to do that. It’s not that we have a full-time female-led relationship, or I’m a 24/7 slave; it’s more a respecting preferences thing.

I thought about last night and what Jasmine did and put me through. I shouldn’t have been surprised; she’d been weaving these themes into our fantasy play for a couple of months. I wondered how long she had this plan, or if getting together with her friends was just opportunistic. I would ask her about that later. This seemed out of what I would consider Jasmine’s normal range of sexual creativity. I was trying to figure out when the exact change happened, what clicked for her to go from a hesitating wife obliging her husband’s fantasies to leading me through the journey to the destination I’d asked for.

I reflected on my feelings as each ‘event’ occurred last night, and tried to work through how I felt about them now, and what that meant. What I mostly settled on was that last night sucked in the moment, but Jasmine didn’t push me beyond any hard boundaries. This was the first time she revealed our sex life to anyone else. It felt safe since we don’t often see those friends, I don’t know any of their friends or family, and most importantly, they don’t live anywhere near us. I don’t know why that last part mattered to me, given that technology links us all instantly, but it did. I also realized it was going to take me more time to process fully. I reassured myself that my first pass at reflection didn’t result in a mental meltdown. That was a promising start.

When Jasmine woke up, I was reading my book. “Hey, sexy, how are you this morning?” was the first I heard from her. I hadn’t heard her stirring before. Either I was more engrossed in my book than I realized, or she didn’t stir. I knew her question was more than just a polite morning greeting. Putting my bookmark in my book, I set it on the table and sat on the bed next to her. She was lying on her side, partially uncovered, which is a very sexy look for her. I lightly rubbed her back with my fingertips. We both love that.

“I’m OK. I slept like a baby. And I had time to think this morning. You sleep OK?”

“Yeah, really well. I feel more refreshed than I have in a long time. I guess we need more nights like that,” she replied with a smirk on her face for the last part. She steered the conversation toward what she really wanted to know: how I was doing emotionally.

“Yeah, about that…” I let my voice trail off. “That was intense, and if you couldn’t tell, very unexpected. Quite uncomfortable, too.”

“Was it too much? Did I cross any hard lines and not realize it?”

“If you’d asked me last night, I would have said yes. But you didn’t ask. After thinking about it this morning, my answer is no, with the caveat I’m not sure I’d want to do it again.”

“Understood, but you know I’m going to push you, right? That’s what you asked for, as long as I don’t cross any hard boundaries. That’s where I need to be sure you’re communicating with me,” Jasmine continued. “It’s critical to this working. How close have you been to using your safe word? Do you feel like you could use it if needed, without repercussion?”

The answers to both questions did not require me to think, “Yes, I know you’re going to push me. And yes, I know I can use my safe word if needed.” I knew both of those things without question. I also knew the most important answer to Jasmine was about the safe word. It was interesting, as much as we had grown in this part of our life, neither of us thought, until just then, about different kinds of safe words. We had an all stop – and this is over word, but not a stop the scene and discuss word. I suggested to Jasmine that we have both. She agreed; we talked about it and came to a consensus on what they both meant, and settled on a word. We were super original; yellow was stop the scene, red was stop it all. We already agreed that context matters. If I said to her, “Are you going to turn my ass red?” that wasn’t stop. If I said “red” as a standalone word, that was all stop. Part of that agreement was an immediate halt, but a double check to be sure the word, especially red, was said in context on purpose.

“Good,” Jasmine replied.

We lounged around for an hour or so, each took showers, then went out for brunch. That turned out to be the only time I was clothed for the rest of the weekend.

When we got back to the room, I removed and folded my clothes and put them in the bureau drawer, and by my clothes I meant my shorts and shirt. I was not wearing underwear or socks. Since this was Jasmine’s weekend, I asked her if she had any plans or anything she wanted to do while we were there. She told me we’d play it by ear, but now she wanted a massage. So, a massage she got. It was not quite as easy as at home, where we have a massage table and oil warmer. Not high-end parlor stuff, ones you can get on Amazon fairly cheaply. Anyway, by massage, Jasmine means only her backside; she rarely wants to have the front of her body massaged. Our suite had two king-size beds; we were on the ‘second bed,’ where I spent almost two hours slowly massaging and rubbing her backside. By the time I was done, Jasmine was fully relaxed. One thing about our ‘massage nights,’ as we like to call them, none of it is sexual. We’re both very careful to keep them separate so she can enjoy the massage without any overt or covert pressure about sex. Believe it or not, I prefer that as well.

When I was done, Jasmine hopped in the shower to wash the massage oil off her. I was in the bathroom washing my hands. When we packed this time, we remembered the dish soap along with the oil. Much easier to remove the oil. When I was done, I reached in the shower to give Jasmine the soap. “Hop in here with me and wash my back.” Just like at home, this happened occasionally. Unlike at home, I didn’t have to strip first since I was already naked. I dutifully gently scrubbed her back, butt, and legs with her loofa. When I was done, Jasmine told me not to get out. Without fully turning around, Jasmine sweetly said she thought some oil had gotten on the front of her as well, that I needed to make sure that was all gone. She reached back, grabbed the bottle of soap, and handed it to me. When I started to grab her loofa, she stopped me. “That may be a little rough for my sensitive spots; you’d better just use your hands.”

Who was I to pass that up, besides she’d ‘told’ me what to do. Putting soap in my hands and rubbing them together, I stepped closer to Jasmine, pressing my chest against her back. She reached up and turned the shower head so water wasn’t spraying directly down on her. I reached around and started to rub soap over her. Of course, being a guy, I started with her tits. She didn’t complain; that’s what she clearly wanted. As I lifted her tits to ensure I got underneath them as well, Jasmine sighed and pushed her ass back against my caged cock. Nothing more, just pushing back against me. It was enough for me. I love the feel of her body, and for whatever reason (I can’t explain it, just like I can’t explain my kinks – it just works for me), Jasmine’s ass pressing back against my felt like heaven. I traced her nipples, feeling them grow harder, then lightly pinched them. I was rewarded as Jasmine started to gently rock her hips, her ass cheeks rubbing my cage. Slowly, I worked down her stomach. My hand dropped lower, and I lightly traced her outer lips with soap.

“Just in case some dripped here,” I whispered in her ear, “feels too wet just to be water, must be oil.”

I was rewarded with a little purr, and direction, “That’s all, I promise none got in my pussy, no need to wash there.” That was a tough ask of me; I so badly wanted to slip my fingers in here, to pinch and rub her clit. But I didn’t. I finished removing any additional phantom oil that may have gotten on the front of her. That included kneeling in front of her and rubbing her thighs and shins. When I was done, she told me I could get out. Not surprisingly, my cock was still straining at the bars of the cage that had started as soon as she pushed back against me and hadn’t relented.

I was lying on the bed when Jasmine came out of the shower. She was wearing my favorite short babydoll. It was black, almost see through and left little to the imagination. Her nipples pressed against the fabric and were almost visible. Not that I’d need to imagine; I have MANY memories to fall back on. She climbed next to me on the bed, grabbed the TV remote from the nightstand, and logged into one of our streaming services, searching for a series we watch together but were behind on. We cuddled for the next few hours, catching up on the show.

The entire time, she continued to tease me lightly. Resting her hand on my cage, tracing her fingers lightly over my skin, gently kissing any part of my body she could easily reach with her mouth. I was in heaven. When the last episode was over, Jasmine yawned, got off the bed, and stretched, making sure she was facing me so I could see her tits strain at the fabric of her shirt.

Getting into her bag, Jasmine took the key to my cage out and walked over to the bed. Bending down so I could see her tits, she told me to put my hands under my butt and keep them there. I complied, knowing I was about to be let out. Jasmine unlocked the cage and slipped it off. My cock sprang to life. “Well, that’s going to be a problem. How am I going to get the ring off?” Jasmine asked rhetorically. Answering herself in an amused voice, “Oh, I know.”

She walked over to the mini refrigerator we had in the room, reached into the freezer section, and retrieved a washcloth. Being a budget fridge, at best, the cloth wasn’t completely frozen. Didn’t matter; it still did the trick. I wanted to move my hands, shield myself from what I knew was coming, but I didn’t. I knew if I did, I would be punished. Despite knowing it was coming, I still flinched when Jasmine put the cloth on me. And I shrank enough for her to get the ring off.

“Now, don’t move. I need to get some ice. I expect you to be exactly as you are now when I return.” With that, she slipped on a pair of shorts, grabbed the ice bucket, and stepped out of the room, leaving the swinging locking mechanism in the door, preventing it from locking. We were on the third floor; the only ice machine I knew of was on the first. I hadn’t thought about anyone coming in the room.

A few minutes later, during which I didn’t move, there was a knock on the door and a female voice: “housekeeping.” I almost panicked until I realized it was Jasmine disguising, poorly, her voice for a second. I didn’t tell her my initial reaction; I didn’t want to give her that satisfaction.

“I see you’re still where you belong,” she said. My cock had started to harden at the sound of her voice, and with her now in the room. “Funny thing happened while getting ice,” she said. “When I was using the machine, this guy came in to get ice too. I saw him staring at my tits. I mean, do you blame him? Without a bra, you can see my nipples pretty well. Anyway, I accidentally dropped a piece of ice and had to bend over to pick it up. I guess he wasn’t a gentleman because he didn’t offer, and never took his eyes off me. I’m pretty sure he saw right down the front of this.”

Now my cock wasn’t starting to react; it was rock hard. The thought of her intentionally, no matter what she said about accidentally dropping ice, showing her tits to another man turned me on. She noticed. “Huh, I guess that works for you, your wife showing her wares to anyone that wants to see them. I wonder if you’d blow your load if you knew he saw my pussy. Too bad I had to wear shorts, so I didn’t get arrested for indecent exposure.”

I twitched hard at that. “I guess you do like it,” Jasmine said, noting my reaction. Maybe we can arrange that sometime. You know, show me off to a guy with a real cock. One I could feel if he fucked me with it.”

I twitched again. “See, even your little one knows that’s true.”

 

 

Jasmine slipped her shorts off, lifted the front of her baby doll and showed me her pussy. “See, imagine a stranger looking at this, thinking about driving his cock into me, filling me with his seed.”

Another twitch. “Given your reaction, maybe we’ll try that someday.”

“Jasmine, no,” I said to her.

“No, what?”

“I don’t want you to have sex with anyone else.”

“Even another woman,” she teased me.

“Well, maybe that,” I said. We’ve talked about it before. Jasmine has hinted she may be interested someday, but not right now. I learned a while ago not to push it, or even to poke at it. Instead, I just thought about it and wondered if someday she’d surprise me. Either telling me she had, or better, letting me watch her.

“Such a double standard. I’m not even into women. Would you have sex with a guy?”

“No, I wouldn’t.”

“Then why do you get hard when I make you suck my strapon, or when I fuck your ass?”

“Because it’s you, and we’re just fantasizing.”

“Maybe for now,” Jasmine mocked me.

I didn’t think too much of her comment; it’s not out of the ordinary for her to make comments like that. Little did I know.

“Do you like the thought of someone seeing me?” she continued in that tone.

“Yes,” I answered honestly. And I did. I loved the idea of Jasmine showing her body off, of her exciting other men. And women.

“Let’s see how you like it, then. Go stand in front of the sliding door, palms on the door with your hips back.”

This was different, and not something we’d talked about before. I’m not necessarily an exhibitionist, but I also don’t care if anyone sees me naked. Naked was one thing; caged was something entirely different. I hesitated. “Jasmine,” I said in a pleading voice.

“That’s 10 from the paddle. Going for more?”

I knew she was serious. Mostly because she rarely rescinds a stated punishment, and the couple of times she has, it was because I did something extraordinary. There was no chance of that in the hotel room. Jasmine moved to our suitcase and pulled the paddle out. Of course, it was my least favorite one. The one that was almost like a ping-pong paddle, with that texture on it. Actually, that’s exactly what it was, not like it. Just bigger. And with two little holes in it that Jasmine told me were to reduce wind resistance – meaning NOT reduce the force of impact. I didn’t know if that was true or not, but I can attest to the force with which she could land the paddle on my ass. I didn’t want to make it worse, so I stepped to the slider, rested my palms and pushed my ass out, just like I was told. I couldn’t see what she was doing, but when I heard her in the suitcase again, I suspected what she was getting.

I was only partially right. I wasn’t expecting the blindfold that she slipped over my eyes. “Can you see?”

“No, it’s in position.”

“Good. Don’t worry, I’ll tell you if there’s anyone out there.”

I wasn’t sure if she would or not, or if she would tell me there was even if there wasn’t. The next sound I could make out confirmed what I thought she was getting. I heard her open the bottle of lube. I didn’t jump when she dribbled some on the top of my ass crack. I knew it was coming, and I felt her behind me when she came over. I did flinch when she ran her finger down my crack, spreading lube on the outside of my ass, then pushed slowly into me. With her finger up to the second knuckle, she flexed it against my prostate. Using a tried-and-true move she’d perfected on me, Jasmine flexed her finger, pressing against my prostate, sending that feeling through me. I can’t really explain; it’s more of an “if you know, you know” thing. If you don’t, please do.

Withdrawing her finger, Jasmine opened the bottle of lube again. Having been in this situation many, many times before, I knew what was coming, and that it was not likely that I was going to. Cum, that is. After lubing up the strapon, with practiced movements, Jasmine spread my cheeks with the fingers on one hand and guided the tip of the strapon to my ass. Though we’ve done this many times, and Jasmine was perfectly fine with causing me some pain with a paddle or whip, or the like, she was, thankfully, not into causing pain when she fucked me. Her philosophy was that she wanted me to enjoy it the way she enjoys getting fucked. It took a couple times for me to let myself even consider the thought of enjoying being on the receiving end of anal sex, and a few more times after that to allow myself to admit that it did feel good, that I did like it.

Jasmine slid the strap on all the way into me with slow, steady pressure. Again, she was gentle, but also unrelenting. Not once did she pull back out, not even a little. None of this surprised me; it was how every pegging session started. Some continued nice and gentle, like lovemaking, and some turned into savage fucking. I had no idea what to expect, and I certainly didn’t expect what happened next. Jasmine reached around me, and instead of playing with my cage the way she sometimes does, I heard the click of the vibrator, the vibrating sound just a second before she put it on my cage. She knew exactly where to put the vibrator, how much pressure to apply to make me cum. She ought to the number of times she’d edged me and left me dripping, begging – really begging – for relief that seldom came. Tonight would be different.

As she pressed the vibrator to my cage and fucked my ass at a medium pace, she started talking to me. “I’m very proud of you, you know. It couldn’t have been easy with my friends last night. I wasn’t sure if you’d say the safe word or not. I’d been planning this since we decided to see the play. Are you really OK with last night?”

She was right; last night was one of the hardest things I’d done since she started to take on the dominant role I’d been begging her for years to adopt. I was truly amazed at her growth, if you will, and regularly told her. I wanted to make sure she received positive reinforcement; I know this was difficult for her as well. “I am OK with it, really. I thought about safewording, but we’ve been making such good progress. I didn’t want to ruin it.”

Jasmine, in a caring tone, reassured me, “It’s OK to safeword; that won’t ruin anything. We have to be one-hundred percent open and honest with each other for this to work. I admit, I really am liking this dynamic, and I don’t want to jeopardize it either. But I am going to push your boundaries, and mine too. As you requested, I’ll push us both to uncomfortable levels, but I am also willing to stop at any time. I will be disappointed, of course, because I really do enjoy this. As we’ve said all along, if we’re not both enjoying it, we need to change or stop things.”

“I understand. I’ll tell you again, probably until well after you’re sick of hearing it, how much I appreciate your willingness to indulge my fantasies, to help push me.” I was grunting as I was saying this, trying my hardest not to cum. Like a true sexual submissive, I was only allowed to cum when Jasmine explicitly permitted it. And she hadn’t yet.

“Good, we’re on the same page,” her breath quickening from her thrusts, “Now, cum for me, you’ve earned it.” As she said that, she picked up the pace and force of her thrusting. It didn’t take me long, well less than a minute, until I was pushed over the edge. If you’ve never had a prostate orgasm, you won’t understand why my knees went weak, why, if I weren’t blindfolded, my vision would have gone black. Why my hips thrust involuntarily, why I came so much, and so hard that despite the cage, I propelled my load through the hole in the end and onto the glass of the door.

As I came, Jasmine thrust all the way into me and removed the vibrator. When I was done, she pulled out. “Hang on a second, I want them to leave before I take your blindfold off.”

“Oh shit!” I’d forgotten about being in front of the window. My instinct was to take my hands off the glass and cover myself as I moved away. I barely managed to suppress that and stay in place. After what felt like an eternity, Jasmine lifted the blindfold. I blinked my eyes, trying to adjust to the light.

“We, well, you, since you made the mess, can’t leave the window all dirty. You know what to do.” I knew exactly what I had to do.

Kneeling, I leaned my face to the glass, stuck my tongue out, and started licking my cum off the glass. Because my face was so close to the glass, I instinctively had my eyes shut. To get it all, as was expected of me, I had to open my eyes to look. When I did, I was mortified. Walking past the window was a middle-aged couple, looking my way. I felt a vague feeling of recognition, but my mind didn’t have the capacity to process it at the time. The woman was shaking her head. I knew they were too far away to know what I was actually doing, but close enough to know I looked like a fool. I hated eating cum after I’d cum, if you’ve been there, you understand how the horniness is gone, and with it – at least for me – the desire to clean up. Added to that today was knowing I was naked in front of the window, licking it clean while a couple walked by. This is the most humiliating position Jasmine had put me in.

When I was done, I turned away from the window, remaining on my knees. “The window is clean to your satisfaction,” I told Jasmine. She looked it over and agreed and mercifully let me move away from the window. When I had done so, she closed the curtains, declaring that I’d put on enough of the show for the locals. Jasmine then declared that she was hungry. I hadn’t realized I was, but when she said that, I felt my stomach grumble. We settled on a local pub and placed our order through DoorDash. Delivery time was expected to be about 30 minutes.

Jasmine put on an episode of some show in the background while we waited for the food. Maybe because it felt so natural being naked in front of Jasmine, or maybe my mind was still flooded with happy hormones from my orgasm, but I hadn’t thought about when the food delivery arrived, when it arrived, though.

There was a knock on the door. Instinctively, I stood up and headed towards the bathroom. “Where are you going?” Jasmine asked.

“To grab my shorts, the food’s here.”

“Did I tell you to get dressed?”

“No, I just assumed.”

“You shouldn’t do that. You know why,” Jasmine playfully said. It’s a well-worn idiom she loves to use, no matter how worn it is. “Now, get our food. I’ve already paid for it and left a tip.”

“Really, you want me to answer the door like this?” not only went through my head, but out of my mouth as well. I couldn’t believe it. Surely she had to be kidding. Turns out, she wasn’t.

“Yes, that’s what I just said, is it not?”

“But I’m naked and have my cage on,” I protested—a second knock on the door.

“No shit,” was her stern reply. “If they knock a third time and leave, you’ll pay the heaviest penalty you’ve ever paid. Your choice,” she challenged me.

A million things went through my mind. Is it a man or a woman? Did it matter? What did I prefer: a guy to see me this way, maybe have some pity on me, or a woman, and she laughs her ass off at me? Could I stand behind the door so they can’t see below my waist? A third knock on the door jarred me from my thoughts. I knew Jasmine wasn’t kidding. Her look with the third knock reinforced that.

My body decided for me; my mind was still trying to process options and brace for the worst. As I opened the door, I stood behind it as much as I could. Reaching out to grab the bag, I managed to keep it hidden from my waist down. It was a guy. “There was a problem with your payment. They messaged me on my way over. I’ll need a different card, please.” He looked at me expectantly.

“Just a minute,” I said as I tried to let the door close. The man put his foot in the door.

“I prefer to keep it open, with you having the food and all. I’d hate to get stiffed and have to call the cops.” That made sense. I quickly turned around to tell Jasmine she needed to get a card. I strategically turned away from the door so the man couldn’t see my front. I was mortified enough that he was going to realize I was naked, and see my ass.

Jasmine was as helpful as ever, “Honey, my card is in my wallet, probably just an error running it. Grab it, and he can run it again.” She was clearly letting me know she was not letting me out of the situation. I was trying to figure out how to accomplish that without him seeing me, recognizing that not only was I naked, but I was caged. I had no idea if he’d know what it was or not, but there was no way for me not to be embarrassed regardless. I couldn’t figure out a way out.

As I walked back to the door, I realized the man had stepped inside and let the door close—definitely no way to hide it now. As soon as he saw it, he started laughing. I unsuccessfully tried to shrink down and melt into the floor.

“Oh man, I’ve heard that some pussies lock their cocks up, but I thought it was just made-up locker room talk. You really do,” he said through laughs. My face burned, and I hung my head. Trying to get through this as fast as I could, I handed him the card and asked him to run it again. He looked at the card, handed it back to me, and said, “No can do, you don’t look like a Jasmine to me. Unless that’s your other name,” he said, the ‘other’ dripping with sarcasm. “At the very least, I need a card with a man’s name on it. Probably the only thing ‘manly’ in here from the looks of things.”

I was so busy trying to shrink that I didn’t hear Jasmine come up behind me. “I’m Jasmine, this is my husband. He is authorized to use my card.”

“Well, it doesn’t look like he’s using anything else,” he said as he looked down at my locked cock and laughed.

Why? Why did he have to be amused by this? Why couldn’t he be as embarrassed as I was and want to leave quickly?

“Oh, no, he uses that. Just not today. Not that it matters anyway, I can barely feel it.”

That did it for me; I turned and started to walk off. Jasmine stopped me in my tracks with a hand on my chest and that look of hers.

“Don’t be rude, pay him so we can eat. And don’t forget the tip.” Jasmine admonished. I felt about 1mm tall, and wished even harder that I actually was that small. That, of course, did exactly what she intended.

“OMG, he really is a pussy. Does he do everything you tell him to?” the man asked.

“Well, he’s getting better, but still needs more work,” Jasmine matter-of-factly told him.

Talking about me like I wasn’t there. No way they could miss me; I was the bright, glowing red person standing right there. I handed him the card, hoping this would just be over. He ran the card on the handheld processing machine. When he turned it to me to sign, I realized he’d run it for the exact amount; the screen showed 0 for the tip. I took the machine and asked him where I should put the tip.

“Oh, sorry, I forgot to add it. I can’t do it now; it won’t let me rerun the card. If you want to give a tip, do you have cash?”

“I’m not sure if I do,” Jasmine said from behind me, “But…” letting her voice trail off. “This may sound like a porn thing, but I promise it’s not. I’m sure we can arrange something, can’t we, honey? Go ahead, tell him your fantasy.”

I turned to walk away. I couldn’t believe what Jasmine just said. Again, she stopped me with a hand on my chest. Quietly she said, “You know this is your fantasy; here’s an opportunity to make it happen. You may never get this chance again; do you really want to let it go?”

I did want to let it go. And, I didn’t. I didn’t think I could actually suck a guy’s cock. I also knew Jasmine was right. The situation was almost perfect. Away on vacation, on one here, other than her friends knew us, and they were not there. We were in our hotel room; no way anyone other than the three of us would ever know. It felt surreal; never would I have thought the stars would align. Yet here we were.

Jasmine could see the conflict in my eyes. She knew how to overcome it, to push me, just like we’ve fantasized about. “Let me make this easy for you. You don’t have a choice; I am telling you to offer him a blow job. You wanted a tough Mistress, and we know you’re bi, no matter how much you want to say ‘curious.’ Well, it doesn’t get any tougher than this. Now, do as you’re told.” She said the last part loud enough for the man to hear. I suspected he’d heard the rest of the conversation, or at least parts of it. I had no doubt he heard that point.

I didn’t know what to say. I did know I had to do this. For Jasmine. For me. If I chickened out now, all my pestering her, her efforts to be more dominant, were for naught. I didn’t want that. And, truth be told, I really wanted to try giving a blow job. And, there was no situation that I’d ever feel totally comfortable doing so. I figured I had to take this chance. I consoled myself one last time with this guy not knowing how we were, that I’d never see him again.

Turning back to the man, “We don’t have cash for a tip. Is there anything else I could do for you?” Immediately in my mind, I kicked myself. Why did I just ask it that way? That was fucking lame. It turned out OK anyway.

“Given that I just heard your entire conversation, I think you were supposed to offer me a blow job. So, why don’t you try again?”

I couldn’t believe what he just said, how confident he sounded. How could that be? I was practically shaking in my, well, cage since I wasn’t wearing anything else. Had this happened to him before? Either way, before I could think anymore, I heard myself say, “We don’t have cash for a tip. Would a blow job work for you?” The entire time I hadn’t lifted my eyes off the floor.

“You were mumbling, or my hearing is bad. You have to look at me when you talk to me, or I can’t understand you.”

Really? He was going to make me say it again, and look at him. Taking a deep breath, I looked at his nose. “We don’t have cash for a tip. Would a blow job work for you?”

“You’re going to ask your wife to give me a blow job as a tip? What kind of pussy are you? If I said yes, you’d let a stranger stick his cock in her mouth?”

My mouth was now on autopilot. “No, I was offering a blow job from me. It’s always been a fantasy of mine.” Why did I say the last part? I didn’t even know I was thinking it, and now I’ve admitted it to a perfect stranger.

“Well, since you’re offering,” he replied. “You’re not going to bite me, are you? If you’ve never given one, how do I know you won’t?”

Jasmine stepped in, “As much practice as he’s had with my strapons, nah, you’re safe.”

Again, why? I already knew I couldn’t shrink to nothing. And Jasmine wasn’t going to let up. So? I don’t know. Just, so? Jasmine continued, “Well, he told you you could suck his cock, so you may as well get on your knees and get to it.”

“If it’s all the same, how about I sit in the chair over there?” the man asked. Jasmine told him whatever he wanted. He set the food on the dresser, walked over, and stood in front of the chair. Jasmine grabbed my hand and guided me over to him. Looking at me, he said, “My pants aren’t going to take themselves off.”

Jasmine guided my hand to the waist of his pants, to the button. Autopilot took over. I watched my hand, almost like it was operating independently from my mind and the rest of my body, reach out to his waist. That hand was followed by my other as I worked his button open. My hands were shaking so much that I had trouble with his zipper. Enough trouble that he reached down and unzipped his pants himself. I just stood there.

“Pull them down, then my boxers,” he instructed.

I complied, leaning down as I pulled each layer down. With his boxers down, I was leaning with my face near his cock. I noticed he was circumcized, had trimmed pubic hair. If you’d asked me right then about size, I wouldn’t have been able to tell you. I could tell you, though, that he wasn’t hard. I looked over at Jasmine for guidance. I felt paralyzed, like I needed someone to tell me exactly what to do. Good thing for me, she was perfectly willing to do that.

“Get on your knees.”

I did.

“Now, take his cock in your hand. Feel it.”

I did. It felt warm and soft, just like mine does when I hold it.

“Now, lick the tip. Don’t start with a kiss, just get it out of the way, lick it.”

If it hadn’t been clear before – it was – Jasmine was not going to stop; this WAS going to happen. She was forcing me to make my fantasy become reality. As that confirmation sank in, my body responded. My cock, already pressing against the bars of my cage, throbbed with every heartbeat. I’d like to say a calmness washed over me, but it didn’t. My hands started to shake from the adrenaline surging through my veins.

This wasn’t fantasy anymore. It wasn’t “practice” as Jasmine called it, and I always thought it was still fantasy. This was the real thing. A real cock right in front of my face. It would be warm. Soft. Pliable. And taste like a human, not synthetic material, often coated with Jasmine’s pussy. From when she said I had to clean ‘his’ cock after he fucked her.

I leaned forward and stuck out my tongue. And I froze. Jasmine noticed and helped me through it.

“It’s OK, we’ve talked about this. You’ve practiced. And now you’re finally getting the chance. Savor the moment, make me proud.”

I didn’t lean any closer and lick his cock. Jasmine’s words bounced around my brain. Instead, I reached out and put my pointer finger and thumb around the base of his cock, lifting it a little, then leaned forward and took his cock into my mouth. Not just the head; my lips touched my hand. And I paused, intentionally, and made myself stay present in the moment.

His cock was indeed soft and warm. There wasn’t much of a taste. Maybe a little ‘musky,’ whatever that means. I’ve always read it in stories, but I really don’t know what it means. That won’t stop me from using the description, since I couldn’t put any words to it. I closed my lips around his shaft and lightly moved my tongue over the underside of his cock. I felt a little twitch and his cock start to harden.

“I can’t believe I’m actually doing this,” was bouncing from one edge of my conscious mind to the other. I hadn’t realized it yet, but I also went from soft to hard when his cock entered my mouth. Though I wished she hadn’t told him, I had been fantasizing about giving a blowjob for LONG before I dared to tell her about it. Long before I learned about domination and submission, that fantasy was what sent me on my journey of research and discovery, helped me learn that I am sexually submissive. That desire, and of course, the coming of age of the internet. Just porn to start, then my intellectual curiosity kicked in; I wanted to understand it, and me, more. I moved on to reading the increasingly available pop culture information and blogs, and serious psychological and medical journals. Eventually, I settled on the knowledge that I am a bisexual submissive, with no attraction to me, just sexual acts with them. For me, it’s all about the submission rather than the man.

I slid his shaft further into my mouth and tried to savor the experience. The taste. The texture. The smell. Most importantly, my feelings. I’d never really believed in sub-space, and honestly, still not sure it exists. But in that moment, I felt my whole mind relax and let go. My body just took over. I would describe what I was feeling more like autopilot than sub-space. Did I feel any more submissive than before? Yes and no. I’d many times sucked Jasmine’s cock. Yes, it’s ‘just’ a strapon, but still. Was this different? Also yes. It was a real cock, a person that I didn’t know that I was on my knees for.

One thing I fantasized about when sucking a man’s cock was taking it all in my mouth. I don’t know that I could deepthroat; I always struggle with my gag reflex with Jasmine, but I still wanted to do it. In my mind, there were not many better feelings than feeling your cock grow hard in someone’s mouth. I love it when, on the very few occasions it happens, Jasmine takes my soft cock into her mouth. After my initial thoughts that ‘this is really happening.’ It was, and I had his whole, semi-hard cock in my mouth. It was amazing. Hopefully he thought the same.

As his cock grew, I had to pull my mouth off. The same as with Jasmine’s strapons, I wasn’t going to be able to take all of his hard cock in my mouth. Honestly, that just steeled my resolve to give him the best blow job possible. What I couldn’t give him with my throat I would make up for with technique. And I did. I gently licked and sucked his cock to full hardness, then used multiple techniques to bring him close, then back off. Now, I don’t want to sound like I’m an expert; I mean, this was the first real cock in my mouth, but I do know what my signs are. I figured many – if not all – of the signs a man is getting ready to cum have to be consistent.

Maybe I could have made him cum quickly. Maybe it was exactly what it was: that I only thought I was doing a good job and really couldn’t have. Didn’t matter to me; I wanted to try to be in the moment, as my therapist tells me to do, and savor the experience. I did that for about 10 minutes: different techniques, different pressures, different patterns. And I felt him get close. So I doubled my efforts. They paid off. A little warning would have been helpful. Not that he was about to cum, but how much he actually came.

It. Was. A. Lot! I felt him twitch and knew what was next. I had stopped bobbing on his cock and was just holding the head inside my lips, licking the tip with my tongue. His first spurt wasn’t that big. What followed, though, was more than I expected, and more than I could handle. It didn’t help that I held the first spurt in my mouth, savoring the taste and texture. It was everything you read. Warm. Salty. Slightly bitter. Just like mine. The second shot filled my mouth. Instinctively, I swallowed as quickly as I could. The third and fourth shots overfilled my mouth; I almost choked. Cum leaked out the corners of my mouth. Because of my position, I ran down his shaft towards my hand. The last shot was small, easy to swallow. Had I realized it was the last, I may have tried to savor it again, you know, be present in the moment. But I didn’t know, and I didn’t want to repeat drooling some cum.

I realized no more spurts were coming (no pun intended!). I opened my lips slightly and took as much of him into my mouth as I could. My goal was to get my lips past the cum that was slowly running down his cock and suck it in on the upstroke. Mission accomplished. I finished gently nursing his cock, lightly sucking and stroking to ensure I had completed the job.

When I was sure I had, I let his cock slip from my lips. I heard him say something that didn’t fully register at the time, but it did trip an alarm wire. It made sense after Jasmine later told me what really happened.

“OMG, that was so fucking HOT,” Jasmine squealed. “I’m so horny right now, I need to cum.”

“I can take care of that for you, since obviously he can’t, all locked up like that. Judging by the size of the cage he fits in, even if he was unlocked, he wouldn’t be able to do the job. But man, can he suck a dick. You must be training him well.”

Well, the dopamine high I had from living out a fantasy immediately crashed. I knew there was no way Jasmine would let a stranger fuck her. Was there? No, that wouldn’t happen, I told myself. Of course, heat flooded my face again. This guy just offered to fuck my wife in front of me, and didn’t imply but straight up said I had a small cock. I wanted to scream at him; it was average. But I didn’t.

Looking at the delivery driver, “No, I think he deserves a reward for doing such a good job. He did do a good job; you’re not just teasing him, right? I mean, he’s been practicing on my strapon for months; if he didn’t, he’s going to spend a lot of time on the paddling bench with a dildo in his throat.”

And now she’s telling him about how she paddles me? Is there anything she won’t tell him?

“Ok, then, I guess I’ll get going,” the man said.

“No, you don’t need to leave. In fact, I think there’s one more fantasy to be confessed, right, honey?”

Nope, none. Nothing I will ever say out loud flashed through my mind. But I knew. Jasmine knew too. And she knew the right buttons to push. Actually, she’d already pushed them; now it was just the gentle pressure forcing the confession out of me.

I didn’t even try to fight it. I mean, why, at this point? I’d like to think it was a moment of lucid reasoning. In reality, it was resignation. I’d resigned myself to Jasmine making my ultimate fantasy come to life. And to this day, I’m still over-the-moon grateful that she did. Yeah, it sucked a little going through it, literally. But it’s exactly what I’d wanted.

I looked into Jasmine’s eyes. “Yes, I want to get fucked in the ass by a real cock.” I went rigid, my skin as cold as ever. I could feel my face burning. I noticed a slight curl at the edges of Jasmine’s lips, a small smile, before she put her stern look back on.

“Very good,” she said, “you finally dare to admit it out loud, what you really want. To be fucked like a girl. You deserve a reward for that.” She fingered the key to my cage; it was hanging between her breasts on the silver chain I’d bought for her, hoping she’d wear my key as a continual reminder. I know, it’s cliché. Think about it, though. How do many people end up on this journey? Yes, personality plays a major part. And for me, it was that personality that led to the stories I read, memes I looked at, articles I read about submission, bisexuality, and the like that led me here. So, it makes sense.

Jasmine was still much more willing to ‘show me off’ than she was herself. She moved to the bed, and directed me to stand between her and the man. Lying on her back, she slowly lifted her hips and slid her panties down. As she reached back up and touched the key, I had a fleeting hope that she was going to unlock me, maybe even let me fuck her. She curled the finger on the key into a ‘come here’ motion. I leaned forward. With her other hand, the one with her panties in it, she pressed them to my mouth. Knowing what she wanted, I opened my mouth. She stuffed them in, gusset first, right against my tongue. They were wet. Very wet. And tasted strongly of her pussy. I guess me sucking cock really did turn her on. She reached under the pillow she was lying on and pulled out her magic wand vibrator. I didn’t even know she’d put one there, or when.

“Kneel between my legs.”

My heart sank. I knew fucking her wasn’t in the cards for me. As I knelt on the bed and shuffled between her legs, she bent hers at the knees with her heels touching her butt cheeks, and let her knees fall apart. Her pussy was glistening. My mouth literally watered with desire to drop down and bury my tongue in it. My cock ached as it pressed against the bars of my cage. I was already leaking precum, which didn’t surprise me at all.

With one hand, Jasmine wrapped her fingers around my cock and balls. With the other, she turned the wand on and pressed it to the end of my cage. I moaned and thrust my hips forward. Jasmine pushed my hips back, never breaking contact with the wand, holding me in position exactly where she wanted me. It didn’t take long before I was on the edge. This time, Jasmine wasn’t teasing me. She knew how close I was and didn’t stop, just took me over that blissful edge. My cage made a straight shot not possible. Instead, I spurted in a couple directions, and not all that strongly. Jasmine skillfully aimed me onto her pubic mound and pussy, with some stray streams landing on her stomach. I moaned and thrust my hips. I was panting heavily.

Jasmine let me catch my breath. When I had, she looked me in the eye. I knew she had a plan, and that I was about to hear it. I was right. “You’re going to bend over and lick all your cum up. Don’t worry about him watching; he knows you love cum by how greedily you swallowed his. Before you do, ask him to fuck your ass while you do it.”

With whatever shred of dignity I had left pleaded with Jasmine. I’m sure it sounded more like whining to her. I removed her panties from my mouth. “Please, Jasmine. I can’t do that.”

“So, you don’t want to get fucked in the ass by a real cock?” she asked, raising her eyebrow.

“You know I do. I can’t ask a total stranger. I just can’t.”

“You can, and you will. We both know you can do this. You could taste how wet I made my panties from watching you suck his cock, think how hard I’ll cum watching him fuck you. If you can’t do it for you, then do it for me. You don’t need to, though; do it for yourself.”

She was right. I could. I just REALLY didn’t want to. Wasn’t sucking him off proof enough? Didn’t he just hear me admit to Jasmine that I wanted it? Shouldn’t that be enough? It wasn’t.

“Well,” he said as he started to stand, “since my services are no longer needed, I’m sure I can pick up another delivery.” I figured it was now or never, marshaled every last bit of courage. And shed every last bit of dignity. And the words just flowed out of my mouth.

“Do you want to fuck my ass?”

“Want to, I don’t know. Will I if asked properly? Yeah, I will.”

“Will you fuck my ass?”

“Yes, but you better make her cum. Watching her man, he used air quotes when he said man, suck a cock and take it in the ass deserves a reward. Do you really think she wants to watch that?”

Before I could answer, Jasmine spoke, “Actually, I do want to watch that. But I need to cum so badly, I know feeling his face bounce off my pussy while you drive into him will make me.

“Well, then, let’s not keep the lady waiting. Bend over and lick your cum from her pussy while I put a rubber on.”

And he did, then applied some lube to my ass. Jasmine chimed in as he did, “You don’t have to loosen him up; he’s ready. I fucked his ass earlier with my strap on.” She chuckled a little, “You should have seen the faces of the people walking by the window.”

I tried to ignore that last part, but couldn’t. So, instead I lowered my head and started licking up the cum that shot on her lower belly. I felt his hands grab my hips and I mentally braced myself. The tip of his cock on my hole, followed by steady pressure. No big ‘pop’ like a first time. No major pain. Jasmine had indeed loosened me up earlier. At the time, I thought that was fortuitous timing; I later learned it was more than that. Then the pressure as his cock filled me.

I stopped licking Jasmine and tried just to feel. If I’m being honest, physically it really didn’t feel different than Jasmine’s strapon. It was hard, warm, and with plenty of lube, just slid in. Mentally, though, it couldn’t have been more different. And exactly what I wanted. I felt embarrassed that not only was I letting a guy fuck me, but I had asked him to. That Jasmine was seeing this. Worried that she’d see me as less after this. Maybe this wasn’t the right thing to do. I felt the humiliation of liking it. Physically, I already knew I would. Mentally, though, I wasn’t prepared for just how much. How submissive I felt as he entered me, as he thrust in and out of me.

Jasmine had had enough of my pause, and grabbed me by the hair, pulling my face back into her pussy. I knew what she wanted and immediately continued cleaning her, licking her clit, fucking her with my tongue, depending on where she was guiding me. In short order, I felt her tense up, holding me in position to focus on her clit. She came. HARD. The whole bed was shaking, and not just from me being pounded.

While I let Jasmine come down from her orgasmic high – she’s usually too sensitive to let me keep going, or start too soon I focused on what I was feeling. He had sped up and increased the power of his thrusts. I was being truly fucked hard. He also started to change things up, sometimes pulling all the way out before slamming back into my ass. That creates a different, and more often than not more pleasurable, feeling. Instead of just the pressure as his cock stretches my walls and they relax, I also felt him stretching my anal ring and it relaxing. Also, pulling all the way out ensured that he was hitting my prostate when he thrusted in each time. For those of you that have felt it, you know how good it is. For those of you that haven’t, you should try at least having your prostate massaged. Fair warning, if you’re all “I’m not gay,” blah blah blah, don’t try it. You WILL love it and want to keep doing it.

When Jasmine recovered enough, she wanted to ride my face for what would be her third and final orgasm of the night. Telling him to stop for a minute and turn around so he couldn’t see her, Jasmine had me lie on the bed, face the wall. She told me to lift my legs. When I did, she reached her arms over, pinning my legs between her body and arms, my calves resting on her biceps. This had the exact effect you’re visualizing now. She sank her pussy onto my face.

I have no idea if she signaled him or not, or if he just took the initiative. Probably the latter. Either way, he applied more lube to my now very loosened hole and thrust back in. No alternating speeds this time, just a man on a mission to cum.

Normally I’d want to cum too from the mental stimulation, and especially from the prostate stimulation. But, having cum twice that day already, once that long ago, I didn’t have that desire. My cock wasn’t even trying to get hard in my cage. As I lay there under Jasmine, her grinding on my face, my ass taking his cock, I realized what it felt like to be a sex toy. Cliche, I know, but I was literally just there for two other people’s pleasure. I tried not to ‘think’ too much and just savor the moment.

My only disappointment of the entire day came just before the guy did. I heard him say, not necessarily to me, but loud enough so I could hear him, something to the effect of what kind of cuckold would allow another guy to fuck him. I wasn’t disappointed he’d said it; I was disappointed it didn’t have more of an effect on me. Looking back, I should have been humiliated to hear that and know it was about me, especially while his cock was in me. But I wasn’t. And part of my kink is humiliation. I can take that disappointment, though.

Too sensitive to cum again, Jasmine had slid her hips back, removing her pussy from my mouth. She looked down at me, holding eye contact. She mouthed the words, “I love you,” to me, and I returned it. Then, we just looked at each other while I got my ass fucked. When he was ready to cum, the man pulled out and did something I hadn’t thought about before. It helped recover some of the humiliation that wasn’t there with his words. He pulled the condom off, aimed his cock at my caged cock, and came all over it and my balls. I didn’t see what he was doing and was surprised when I felt his hot, thick cum land on me, covering my cage, dripping down my ass crack.

His departure was unceremonious. He simply got dressed and left. I didn’t have time to think that it was odd that he didn’t ask about payment again. That, since we hadn’t actually paid him, which I knew at the time, I ended up being a literal whore. Trading my mouth and ass for the cost of dinner.

Maybe that assessment is a bit harsh since there wasn’t that agreement. More than events just evolved that way.

Jasmine pulled me up to lie next to her, resting her head on my chest. I started the conversation we needed to have.

“I can’t believe we just did that with a total stranger. Hell, that we did it at all blows my mind. But he was just a delivery driver, a stranger.” I wasn’t intending to be derogatory towards delivery drivers. I was just nothing; that’s what he was to us at the moment. Jasmine pounced.

“What, you think you’re better than a driver?” she admonished, only somewhat playfully. “You sucked his cock, swallowed his cum, and he fucked your ass. You laid there like a bitch and took his cock. Hell, I bet you loved it.” She was watching my face for a reaction and must have seen what she was looking for. “You did, you loved a real man fucking you like a bitch. I bet you’d have loved him to cum in your ass, not all over your little nub, wouldn’t you have?’

I stuttered, trying to answer that. “No…that’s not…Jasmine, I didn’t mean it that way.”

Before I could continue, Jasmine started laughing at me. And she revealed her secret.

“It’s OK,” she told me. “He wasn’t really ‘just,” she continued, with a heavy emphasis on just, a delivery guy. He’s my Dom coach.”

“Wait, you’re what?” I asked, confused.

“No more interrupting,” she continued, “just let me talk before you earn yourself another round with the paddle.”

I almost interrupted her just to earn that session, but she cut me off. “Trust me, you don’t want another session tonight; it’ll be like nothing you’ve experienced so far, I promise. Now, where was I? Right, I was telling you that he isn’t just a delivery guy. In fact, he isn’t a delivery guy at all. Have you noticed me getting more and more dominant? Do you think that happened all on its own? We both know that’s not who I am naturally. I never would have come up with most of the things I’ve done to push you on my own. In fact, last night, the bar with my friends. It was his idea. He was there watching the whole thing.

“That’s why he came over to laugh when you were standing there. He was testing you, seeing how far you’d already pushed yourself without knowing he was there. And he was checking in on me. He knew how scared, shitless actually, I was about tonight. He needed to know I was OK, too.”

My mind was spinning. I opened my mouth to ask her a question. Before I could, she placed her finger on my lips, hushing me. “I knew I wasn’t going to be able to give you what you were asking for without help. I tried; if we’re being honest, it wasn’t working for either of us. So, I connected with Nick. Normally he charges for his coaching services, but I agreed with him. I just had to give him weekly blowjobs, and let him fuck my ass once a month, and he’d take me on.”

My jaw dropped. Jasmine laughed at me again. “I’m just kidding,” she said as she lightly traced my nipple with her fingernail. “After we chatted and I told him our story, he agreed to take me on for a discounted fee, and of course your ass and mouth. That I’m not kidding about. The couple you saw walk by earlier while I had you against the sliding door? That was him with his wife.”

She couldn’t be serious. Could she? I mean, it’s not like I got a good look at them, and I was a bit distracted. I was shocked that she’d engaged with a coach. My first instinct was anger. She’d decided to include others, starting with Nick, without me. But as we lay there and she continued, I realized my anger was at myself, not her. I’d begged her for this, and she’d found a way to give it to me. That took immense courage. Demonstrated the depth of her love for me. I knew we’d need to talk more about this later, that I needed to find the right words to tell her how much that meant to me,

“Anyway, hiring Nick was my best decision; he helped me grow and learn how to push you, to give you what you need,” she continued, lowering her hand to my cage. She ran her finger around the cage, tracing the bars through his drying cum. She then traced the same finger on my lips. “Don’t like it off, let it dry,” she instructed. I did my best to resist the natural reaction to lick my lips.

“We came up with the scenarios for this weekend about a month ago when I made plans for the play with her friends. I knew the play would be torture for you, and not in the fun way,” she continued. “And, well, you know the rest. Please do not clean up. Tonight, you’ll sleep with his cum dried on that little nub.”

With that, Jasmine pulled up the covers, and we drifted off to sleep.

 

The End.

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