My wife keeps me in chastity. Not for any particular reason. I’ve never strayed and never wanted to but she likes the power and if it makes her happy, then I’m happy to go along with it. It’s a CB-3000, standard chastity belt but with one difference, she uses a 4-digit combination lock instead of the standard tamper proof or metal padlock which she had been using. With 10,000 possible combinations, there was no way I’d ever be able to guess the number.
When she first swapped it over from the padlock, I’d last been allowed enough freedom to cum 2 weeks before. My wife decided that I would have a chance to earn the numbers, starting that night by taking her out to dinner. Her rules were simple; do as I was told and I could have the numbers. Don’t, and I’d have to wait.
I showered after my wife so she was dressed before I got out and what a sight it was. Denim mini skirt, low cut top, push up bra and high heels. Immediately upon seeing her, I felt my boy press against the side of his cage, not something that was missed by my wife as she grabbed hold.
”Later, if you’re very good,” she said, walking off with a smile. “Oh, and I’ve laid your clothes out on the bed. Don’t be long.”
I went into our room and on the bed was a pair of khaki trousers, socks and a polo neck shirt. She hadn’t gotten and briefs out for me so I didn’t even consider getting any out of the drawer.
When I picked up the polo shirt, I saw something that did make me inwardly groan. My wife had gotten out the remote controlled vibrating butt plug. I don’t mind it for its size, it’s relatively small and I’m used to it. What I’m not keen on is the fact that when I’m sitting on a certain type of harder chair, say a restaurant chair, it rests just against my prostate and I know from experience that any leakage means no release.
Still, I knew that not wearing it would mean no release for definite so I used the lube left next to the butt plug and put it in. Quickly, I dressed in the clothes laid out for me.
I went downstairs and into the kitchen where my wife was sorting out her handbag. On the table I saw the control to the butt plug which burst into life as I got within its range. I gasped in surprise.
“Good boy,” my wife said as she reached for the control, clicked the button to turn it off and put that in her bag too. “Just checking.”
We went off to dinner, me driving. Needless to say, I wouldn’t be allowed to drink this evening, something I did miss. I did squirm a lot in the drivers seat, trying to get the butt plug as comfortable as possible. The speed bumps at the multi-storey car park did not help matters as I tried to go over them as slowly as possible.
The walk to the restaurant was uneventful. I stayed 3 feet behind my wife; not because it is expected but because I knew in the heels she was wearing, her arse would wiggle and in that mini skirt, that was a show I wanted to see, even if all it did was cause a swelling in my groin and remind me of my predicament.
We went in and were given a window seat, slightly out of the way, something I was pleased about. If I was expected to be on best behaviour then the minimum number of people hearing about it was good for me.
A waitress came and took our order and delivered the drinks, surprisingly a non-alcoholic beer for my wife.. As she placed mine in front of me, I looked at her to thank her and felt my arse spring to life. I gasped, said my thanks and looked at my wife who smiled innocently and I felt the butt plug power off.
I adjusted myself in my seat as what I was afraid of had happened and the butt plug was pressed against my prostate. My wife noticed this too and turned it off and on again in quick succession. No matter where I moved to on my buttocks, I just couldn’t get the tip off.
We sat and engaged in normal, every day conversation and no one could know the situation in the restaurant. It wasn’t until the food order was being delivered that my wife switched the butt plug on again. I grimaced more than smiled as the food was put on our table and looked at my wife with pleading eyes as the waitress walked away.
“What?” she asked as if nothing was wrong.
“Please?”
”Please what?”
”Please turn if off.”
“Oh. Right. Sorry.” She laughed and clicked the switch, and dropped the control back into her bag for the remainder of the meal, which passed uneventfully.
When we’d finished our mains, the waitress came and took our plates away and asked if we wanted any dessert. My wife ordered and, before the waitress had gone back into the kitchen to place that order with the kitchen, started fiddling around with something under the table. She then placed something in my hand.
“Go and put these on,” she said.
I looked down at what she’d handed me. It was her knickers. She’d never asked me to wear her underwear before and I was taken a little aback, causing me to question her.
“What? These?”
”Yes. Those. Now, go into the toilets and put them on like a good boy.”
With some reluctance but trying not to show any, I stood up. Apparently, I hadn’t moved fast enough before my wife’s hand darted into her bag and I felt my anal intruder come to life again. I headed to the toilets as quickly as I could to get out of the range of the remote but making sure I closed my fist around the material in my hand so no one else could see what I was carrying.
When I got into the bathroom, I headed for a cubicle and had a look. My wife, up to about a minute ago had been wearing a black thong under her mini skirt. I stripped off my trousers and put on the thong, a little thankful that the butt plug would keep it from disappearing places I didn’t want it to go!
Heading back to the table, I saw that dessert had been delivered and felt that my wife hadn’t turned off the control yet. Gingerly, I sat down and tried to control my breathing. It took a few seconds for my wife to realise why and with as much sincerity as a game show host, apologised and turned it off.
We ate our dessert before I paid, we left and headed for the car park, stopping only at the pay machine to get our ticket validated. As we got to the car, my wife declared that she would drive. I offered to do so but she shook her head and reached into her bag.
“How can you drive when you’ll be wearing these?” she asked as she pulled out a pair of handcuffs, walked over to me and cuffed my hands behind my back.
Only now did she unlock the car and get in, leaving me standing in the car park bay for a good 90 seconds before opening my door and allowing me to get in. She closed the door and reached for the seat belt, making sure she pressed her breasts against me as she clipped me in. She then put the keys in the ignition but before starting the car, undid my trousers and opened the fly, looking at her husband wearing her thong.
“Mmmmm, I didn’t know it would be THAT hot,” she said with a laugh, started the engine and reversed out of the parking bay. I tried looking around for security cameras but soon realised that even if I saw them and they could see me, there was nothing I could do to get out of the way of them.
We soon arrived at the traffic lights ready to join the main road. They were on red and my wife used the stop to reach under the thong and touch the plastic that covered me.
”Oh, that’s right,” she said in mock surprise. “I can’t pleasure you. Oh well, guess I’ll have to pleasure me.”
With that, she opened her legs and started to rub herself, moaning with the pleasure. Again, I felt groin swell and I squirmed in the seat, trying to get any reaction against the plastic, finding only frustration. Then, when the lights changed, my wife closed her legs, put the car into gear and drove off as if nothing had happened.
This lasted until the next set of lights which were also red when she again put the car in neutral, opened her legs and began to play with herself. I so wanted to reach over and grab her but with the cuffs and the chastity, was quite literally a passenger to her adventure.
When the lights changed, she again drove off. This time, she took hold of the chastity belt and felt the weight caused by what extra blood could enter and smiled.
”You know, it’s really not fair me getting all the pleasure. Next lights, I’ll make sure you get some too.”
The evening’s events and this latest development had gotten me very horny. I didn’t want any “pleasure” because I knew that there is two types of release. One in the belt with no pleasure and one out of the belt, earned and with plenty of pleasure. To my wife, it made no difference at all.
The next set of lights was green, causing a sigh of relief from me and though the next set was on red, they changed to green as we drew close. My luck changed at the third set; they were green as we came up to them but changed to amber then red as we drew near.
I heard a click and felt the butt plug spring to life. I gasped and tried to squirm in my seat, all to no avail.
“Come on,” I heard my wife say, so I looked over to her where again, she had her legs spread and was playing with herself. “Don’t fight it. You know how much it turns me on to hear you moan.”
My breathing became heavier and I did become a little louder than was strictly needed but I thought if I helped my wife have a good one, I might be allowed a good one later. Luckily, the lights decided enough was enough and changed back to green, ending my torment and my wife’s pleasure.
The last set of traffic lights out of the way meant we drove home almost in silence. I tried to will my bodies natural reactions to stop while I assumed my wife was frustrated.
We got home and my wife parked the car in the drive, unclipped my seat belt and helped me out of the car, still cuffed.
Going indoors, she uncuffed me and ordered me to strip. I did so quickly and did not resist when she cuffed my back up again before going into the kitchen to make herself a coffee, beckoning me to sit down and join her.
”So,” she spoke eventually as she drained the last of her drink. “How did you think you did?”
“I thought I did well,” I replied honestly.
“Quite well,” my wife corrected. “You looked at another woman and hesitated when I handed you my knickers. I think you need just one more thing if you’re going to earn those numbers. Come on.”
My wife led me up the stairs to our bedroom where she lay on it and spread her legs.
“Don’t worry,” she said. “It won’t take long.”
It didn’t. After less than 5 minutes of my best tongue action, I felt my wife squeeze her thighs either side of my head as she came, covering my face with her juices. Once her body had stopped convulsing, she got up and went to the bathroom.
The events that had happened had me very turned on and I felt sure I’d earned the numbers needed so you can only imagine my disappointment when my wife returned from the bathroom in her negligee, climbed into bed and went to sleep without another word.
I lay on the duvet, unable to throw it back without disturbing her sleep and slowly, with great discomfort, went to sleep.
The next morning I awoke to find myself covered up and my hands no longer cuffed. I went downstairs to find my wife had gone shopping but had left me a note on the table.
”My love,
Last night was fantastic and you really earned this.
5
Now you just have to earn the other three!
Love,
Me”
I looked it over several times, hoping for some clue to the remaining numbers but no, she’d given me that one. Not even the place where it went. I sat down in a chair and sobbed but soon pulled myself together. After all, I’d managed to get that number. Getting the others wouldn’t be any harder! Oh, how wrong I was!
06.07.09
story continues in The Numbers Game 2
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