have no idea from where this originated , nor who the artist is, but heavens it is worth sharing.

 

 

By the second week of January my time to play with the chastity belt returned in abundance. By the third week I was in sissy chastity belted heaven, playing just about 24/7 with breaks on the weekend when wife and daughter were at home.

Blair had worn a continuous warm smile since the New Year’s Eve night when we made love for the first time in months. She had to catch up on work after the Christmas break so was staying late in town while Chloe had taken to staying at her friends near the school, so didn’t get back until after seven. How good can it get? Well Blair had taken to wearing sexy short skirts to work. She laughed about how Morgan had complimented her on her legs at the party, so the trouser suits immediately took a back seat. So every morning, and every evening, I was able to hold a gorgeous sexily dressed Blair tight, whilst locked in my chastity cage. Heaven. More hot frustration than you can believe.

Hence I could spend all day playing around. I’d get fully dressed in my favourite lingerie and dresses. Wear the neat wig I had bought back in the autumn, but most of all continue the experiment with the CB6000. I tried different combinations of the spacers and rings. They all felt slightly different.

There was something tinglingly exiting about squeezing into the cage with the smallest spacer. It took some doing because the damn thing pinches at the skin as it is closed. It usually takes about ten minutes to get it locked without catching my delicate flesh.

By putting it on every day I soon realised that the smaller the ring size I could bear the less it moved down the scrotum. At times the largest one would squeeze into my balls and I would have to unlock it so I could realign it. The middle sized one was a bitch to get on but remained securely in position so there was less rubbing and best of all it stayed in place near the my body.

 

Of course Blair took a key to work with her so I could pretend I was locked up in it all day while she played around with her alpha male Morgan Hopkins. A complete cuckold, sissy, fantasy  but wholly safe because Blair would never cheat with another guy in the real world.

As you will recall she had spouted his name during her orgasm and the way she looked at him at the new year’s eve party showed she would give herself up to him in her own fantasies. That meshed with my own and heightened my day dreams when locked.

I had discovered that I could spurt cum when wearing it, yet without any kind of release or relief. When I removed it in order to gain satisfaction my balls were spent and hence I only achieved half an erection. The frustration was beautifully irritating, like truly being a prisoner of some dome female or her dominant partner. Imagine if that alpha male conceited boss of hers was her lover and controlled my orgasms. He would love it – well he did in my imaginary world.

I usually spent the morning playing with myself, worked in the afternoon and then put the chastity device on just before Blair came home. This was in case she ever asked to see it, though she never did. If I suggested it then she would wrinkle her nose and shake her head. “Not today.”

Looking back now I guess I would say that was the height of ‘my freedom.’ Even my afternoon work consisted of me playing computer games or watching the snooker. The far east container contract was pretty much in place now.

That fateful day when my world turned upside down and spiralled out of my control had been a good one. I had worn a new piece of lingerie that was flattering and sensual and had spent hours in stockings and heels dancing to music on my Ipod.

So I was quite sleepy in the afternoon and sat up straight when I heard Blair’s car on the gravel while I was playing a card game. It was only four thirty and I was out of the belt.

I raced upstairs to my bedroom to put it on and quickly tidy up the lingerie and stockings I had been wearing. They were all over the bed in plain view. The CB6000 still had the small spacer and the middle sized ring so they were the devil’s job to get on – and painful because of the rush I was in. But I reasoned it would be quicker to lock it on as it was than getting out the box hidden in the drawer in the cupboards then finding all the larger rings and spacers.

The front door slammed shut as I felt the damn thing pinch me.

“Jordan!”

She sounded agitated.

I prodded my dick into the device as I pulled the cage to the ring but of course with the small spacer I couldn’t get my finger to remain in position. There is only a millimetre or so between the cage and the rings with the small spacer. Time and time again  it snapped shut on my sensitive skin.

“Jordan!”

She was coming up the stairs.

If she could see I could take it off whenever I wanted maybe she wouldn’t take the key to work with her and enhance my fantasy. I didn’t want the game to finish that afternoon.

“Jordan!”

She was on the landing near my door. There was an edge to her voice.

The device closed, finally sliding home and I smartly pushed the lock in to position clicking it shut.

I was still pulling up my pants and doing up the belt as she entered.

But she didn’t stay nor was she particularly interested in why I was dressing in the middle of the afternoon. “There you are.” She sounded irritated. “Down stairs now.”

I followed her down. “You all right? Something happen at work? That idiot Morgan hasn’t upset you?”

She didn’t say anything.

I saw she had dropped her coat in the hallway, that was totally unlike her. She always put away her clothes, she was the tidiest person I had ever met. I was growing concerned. Could her problems affect me? Was her place closing down so she wouldn’t be going to work and I couldn’t play?

“Blair, love?”

“Get me a screwdriver.”

For a moment I thought she meant the tool but remembered she often drank vodka and orange juice.

“Sure,” I said.

She slumped at the kitchen table dropping her bag on the floor and kicking of her shoes, sighing with the relief of losing the heels. I could now wear heels for a few hours at a time thanks to the hours I had to play with my dressing up so understood the relief in taking them off.

I dropped a couple of ice cubes into the glass before pouring in the vodka which Blair liked to keep chilled in the fridge. Then I topped it up with up with the orange juice.

I sat next to her, making to take her hand but she snatched it away before taking a long gulp of the drink.

“What’s happened? Everything ok in the office?”

“Ok, tell me something,” she began,  studying her drink.

“Yes?”

“This pervy thingee you wear. What’s it called?”

“A chastity belt.”

Her shoulders pulled up in controlled anger. “What’s it called?”

“Erm, a CB6000,” I added with a blush, “the small model.”

It had seemed so exciting to be able to get my dick into  the small version, extra humiliation if you like, but sharing that information with Blair at that precise moment made me want to curl up and die from shame.

“Right. Yeh. I thought it was. You had been going on about it when you got it. CB6000”

“But not recently!” I was defensive. She didn’t like me talking about my cross-dressing, chastity or cuckold fantasies. Since Christmas I had steered clear of them = not least because I was entertaining myself quite happily without her.

“The CB6000. So, this CB6000,” she spoke the term through clenched teeth as if it were a dirty word. “How many keys has it got?”

“Oh, I …” swallowing I tried to think of a way to buy time. “A couple I think.”

“A couple. Yes?”

I shrugged, making out I was trying to remember. “Yes I think so.”

Her eyes stayed on her drink, her head was nodding. “A couple.”

“Yes,” I said more confidently.

“Oh? So how come they have three keys?”

My jaw fell. I stared at her in silence.

Her eyes met mine. “You are not the only perv in town.”

 

Someone else had one? Near us? And Blair knew him? Wow! I needed to know more. “How do you mean love?”

“Don’t love me. Right? Just don’t love me.”

“I don’t understand. I guess some might come with three keys …”

“Shit up liar. You had me take the key in making me think I was helping you, make me part of your nasty little games. But you could get out of it anyway. You just played me for a fucking idiot.”

It is truly rare for Blair to swear. “No love …” Again I tried to take her hand but she snatched it away from me.

“So while I am at work you are mincing around here all day wanking off.”

“No,” I lied, keeping my gaze fixed on her. “So who else has …”

“Oh you’d love to know that wouldn’t you.”

“Well if you don’t want to say that’s fine,” I spoke softly wanting to drain the confrontation from our row. Christ I would love to know who else is playing with them.

She finished her drink, pushing the empty glass at me as the remaining orange juice slid down the glass. “Another.”

“Yes, of course.”

Hurriedly I fixed her another screwdriver. “I didn’t think I was alone in this. The internet is full of guys who …”

“I know.”

“Oh.” I was frozen on the spot. How much had she learned about the sissy, chastity cuckold scene?

She snatched the drink from my hand and took a long swig. “Bastard, lying to me like that. Making me look an idiot.”

“Love look I never use the spare key. I keep it in the box and always wait …”

“Liar.” Her eyes didn’t blink. They were huge, round and accusing.

“Well I need an emergency one here. I mean what if I have to go into hospital? eh?” She wasn’t convinced. “Sometimes it pinches and you have to get it off in a hurry and …”

“If you don’t stop lying I am going to walk out of that door right now.”

I nodded feeling genuinely ashamed.

“So, you,” she shook her head, drew in a deep breath and asked, “you, you know, you still got it on now?”

“Yes of course…  really.”

“Show me.”

Mesmerised by my actions she barely blinked as she watched me unzip and unhook my belt. I opened up my pants and pulled them down along with my underpants. The gold master lock slipped out of the top.

“I want to see it all. Now!”

I pulled my underwear down until my constrained dick was plain to see. I wasn’t sure whether to pull up my pants so I just waited.

She bent over to examine it better.

“So I hear once it is locked on you cannot get your dick out.”

“Erm no. No. Some people say you can, but I don’t see how. I have the smallest spacer so …”

“I don’t want to hear about all the pevy stuff. So there are two other keys?”

“Erm. Definitely one spare. Yes love. I keep it upstairs in case I …”

“No more lies! Go and get the two other keys.”

My mouth opened to say something but the words refused to form. My brain had turned to ice. In fetching them I would show myself as a complete liar in her eyes.

And why would she want to see them anyway?

“You want me to go through that front door now?”

“No!”

“Get the other two keys. Do it!”

I nodded and walked slowly upstairs. I needed to give myself time to think. My stomach was spinning like a dishwasher. I felt sick yet aroused in my belt.

I heard her call out. “Hurry up. No stupid tricks!”

Never upset your wife’s lover on a cold night.

Advice brought to you by The Hotel

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I guess you recall how we are dressed, Blair, my wife and I. Two prisoners. She in the sexy short dress, flashing thigh so high she might have been genuinely arrested. Me in the humiliating convict outfit, with the tiny clingy shorts the women at the party had found so amusing.

So we hit our house running. Hot and in need. We haven’t had sex for an age, months. Our sex life has been on a downward slide for way too long.

We both know we are bursting for sex, yet we say nothing.

All the way home in the car we catch each other’s eyes. Blair grinning with her knowing eyes. So sexy, her head slightly bowed, looking up at me through her eyelashes. My dick firm in the shorts. Obvious to all. But she doesn’t touch it so I wonder if she truly wants it.

Then running up the stairs like children.

A pause, right at my bedrooms doorway.

As if both of us want to draw breath. Ask the other if they feel same. She sees my uncertainty and grabs my hand. Within moments we are devouring each other.

Deep sucking kissing like we haven’t experienced since before Chloe’s birth

Stripping each other as we stagger to the bed.

My cock now would push through butter. So hard it hurts. How long since I have felt like this?

Collapse onto the bed, attacking each other. My shorts are down, my hard cock up with only one place to go. We both tug her panties down and she is groaning, eyes closed, her hips pushing up. In need. We must have each other.

I slide in as she folds her legs around me. She gasps. Grips my back, her nails hard and sharp.

I am fucking her. I can feel her insides gripping and sucking.

“Blair,” I groan, “Blair.”

She is whispering, “Yes, yes, oh my God.”

Not being able to hold on even for a few seconds I am about to cum and she says it.

I hear her words. I hear the name.

Spluttered from deep within her. “Fuck me Morgan. Fuck me.”

I pause. My body rigid as she cavorts about me, pumping her hips like a wild machine.

Morgan.

She said his name. I am in my own fantasy. I am now him. The alpha male stud I have so often imagined screwing my wife. He is screwing my wife and I am in chastity. I can feel it in my imagination. My CB6000s tight around my cock while Morgan slams into my wife in another room.

The motions recommence. All on their own. My entire body doing the job.

I put my mouth to her ear. “I am taking you ‘cos your husband cannot. He cannot satisfy you like me.”

With that she freezes for a moment as her body goes berserk. Clenching my penis like a machine. Is my cock going to be crushed? She comes, spurting over my groin. I can feel it. The sticky little lumps. I have never known her so hot.

Then my mind turns blank white and I cum.

And cum … and cum.

It seems as if neither of us will ever stop. Not ever.

Finally her grinding slows and she lays splayed beneath me. Exhausted, gasping fish like for air

She is still moaning.

We clamber mindlessly beneath the quilt. She might as well be on drugs. Her eyes are miles from the real world.

“Blair?”

She hushes me, but the effort of hushing me exhausts her. Her eyes close, her breathing slows as sleep pulls on her senses.

“Blair?”  She shakes her head in her half sleep. not wanting to hear.

But I must know.

“My love, that was Morgan who just had you wasn’t it?”

She shushes me, but her lips slip into a sweet, naughty grin.

Rolling towards me, she buries her shoulder under my arm making me cuddle her.

I am bursting with questions. How can she sleep?

“Blair?”

She giggles, gently pressing a finger onto my lips. “Shush,” she says and after a long pause adds, “cuckold!”

She then giggles pushing her hot, soft body hard into mine. Moments later she is snoring gently.

Me? I cannot sleep. I am thinking. My head is spinning. She called out his name. She called me a cuckold.

I tried to think through it, make sense of it, just as I have done in the weeks that followed.

That image from the party: Morgan so powerful, so in control. My wife eagerly grinning up at him.

And those handcuffs. Double locking real, genuine police handcuffs.

 

My Chastity belt is in the draw near the window and I do not want to move right now. I do not want to spoil what we are feeling. But how I long to feel its security around me as I imagine so much.

Exhausted I muttered a quiet ‘wow’, before I slipped into a deep sleep. I felt a door had been opened in my life. I new path had grown before me.

I so like so had to share these links

 

I mean, like, they are way too hot. Like totally hot.

 

A lady who IS making herself a brainless barbie doll in real life …

 

A girl tied to a bed, helpless and squirming! OMG. It is like, well you know, sooo totally like it.

 

 

 

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2014/02/19/blondie-bennett-barbie-woman-hypnotherapy-stupid_n_4815495.html

 

And a soooo hot clip of a gorgeous girl tied helpless to the bed. View and envy.

 

http://www.myvideo.de/watch/9457070/Gagged_girl_handcuffed_to_bed_in_lingerie

How your master can easily carry you around the house after he has bound you.

Advice brought to you by The Hotel

As you can see

 

 

end

As you can imagine the fancy dressed party was full of sexily dressed women.

Blair and I remained handcuffed for only the first ten minutes. During this time her prisoner outfit was greeted with lustful up and down stares from the guys and raised eyebrow with up and down stares from the women. I was met with wide grins and giggles as my short panted prisoner outfit clung to me as much as Blair’s obscenely short tee shirt.

Within an hour I was concerned about my hardening cock and wished I was wearing the cb6000s to keep it in place. In fact the idea of wearing a chastity belt whilst my wife was leered at and flirted with by all the guys was a huge turn on itself. An excitement not mitigated by the array of sexy thighs and boobs from the women.

 Blair soon disappeared onto the dance floor, as is usual for her after a few glasses of white wine. Fortunately the clinging tee shirt-dress stuck to her bottom and only rode up occasionally. Not that it stopped guys taking her in with lustful eyes. I was desperate to get a way for a wank.

I noticed only one other guy in what I considered a subbie outfit, a burly rugby fellow in a maid’s uniform. His muscular tattooed arms exposed. No danger of seeing him as a sissy.

So here is an interesting observation. Many of the women made a bee line for me. I guess in my prisoners outfit I was less threatening than some of the more masculine outfits in which the other guys were attired.

It was as if the prisoner uniform gave them permission to approach and make fun of me. And I loved it.

The life changing incident with her boss Morgan Hopkins was to happen after the meal.

The food was delayed, so more wine was drunk. The dining room was a raucous cacophony of heightened sexual tension. It was amazing no women were on their backs on the floor. I imagine that roman orgies must have had a preamble such as this.

Blair grabbed me at the foot of the stairs and dragged me upstairs.

“I can’t dance anymore. These heels are killing me.”

 I looked down at her white ankle boots and made a note to buy such a pair as soon as possible. They made her legs in the black tights look even more sumptuous.

Gripping my arm she whispered, “and I can see the ladies love your little bottom in your shorts.”

I laughed, confiding that I had never before enjoyed so much attention from women.

So that was when we saw the group around Hopkins.

Morgan Hopkins was holding forth outside the snooker room on the balcony. He stood before a huge painting of some overly decorated general from hundreds of years ago. He was surrounded by a small group of giggling women and men who I could see were in two minds about him. Part envy at him being so tall, good looking, clearly the boss and effortlessly alpha male.

Blair gripped my hand and dragged me over to them.

“Hi!” she announced to Hopkins, breaking up one of his stories.

The women were pissed off at her confidence and exchanged glances: ‘who does she think she is?’

I felt myself flush. Blair is a quiet lass as a rule but after a few drinks she is the sort of girl to clamber onto a table to dance.

“Hey!” Hopkins bellowed. “Look at you! Wow.”

“This is Jordan, my husband. You met him before.”

She tugged me before him and I flushed bright red feeling like a little boy in my shorts before such a bear of a guy.

As you know my fantasies have been about Morgan Hopkins cuckolding me, with me being a sissy in chastity. So now I was speechless.

And I need to tell you what Hopkins was wearing. Even today, some weeks later, it gives me a thrill. He was dressed as a US police officer, with baton, gun and flat hat. He filled the uniform with some menace, I think helped by the way the cap’s peak came partly down over his eyes. It made him look no nonsense tough

I cleared my throat, feeling speechless and way too nervous to feel any erotic charge.

“Yeh! We keep meeting up when we are pissed eh Jordan?” he laughed.

I laughed, and yes it was sycophantic laugh and yes I was feeling hot about my cheeks. I guess he was about 6 inches taller than me, maybe standing 6’3”, but he was wearing big boots. I have never seen him without this huge confident grin, as if he knows something wickedly funny and he won’t share it.

So he filled us in on the story so far before continuing it with his audience in his hand. The punch line was only something about him already having received a cheque for twice the amount from the client but for some reason we all found this hilarious.

You don’t need to know about the next half hour or so of chat. Some people left, mainly the guys and a few more joined, mainly girls. I remember feeling a bit of an idiot standing in the half circle of his audience not saying anything, watching my wife’s giggle and fawn over his every story.

Then it happened. It makes my mouth go dry even now.

It started with him saying something to Blair about being late at a meeting, it was part of one of his stories. Blair, now benefiting from far too much wine cocked one knee  in front of the other to look up at him and gushed. “So are you going to arrest me officer?”

She span her handcuffs around her hand in front of him.

At that point I was embarrassed. Embarrassed at not having the guts to have left the group ages before, maybe with a excuse of having a pee. And now embarrassed at my drunken wife making a fool of us. I felt a tremor of anger. Had there not been so many people around I would have said something to her.

Hopkins took the cuffs from her and I watched my wife twist back and fore like a naughty school girl in front of the headmaster. Her eyes seemed huge, she was awaiting his response. I knew she was hot. In the days when we had sex she wore that same passive, willing to please look when aroused.

Hopkins’ grin stayed firmly in place as he waved the cuffs in front of her. “You are a naughty prisoner aren’t you?”

There were giggles but it was as if the group was holding its collective breath with sexual tension.

“Maybe,” Blair whispered slyly.

“These are toy cuffs prisoner. Look.” He closed them and then used the trick catch to spring then open. “If you wore these you would escape!”

She played the game by gaping and putting her hands to her mouth. “Please Sir I just didn’t know.”

And now I had a semi hard on. And I suspect I wasn’t the only guy in the group with a hardening dick.

“You need these.” Hopkins pulled a hefty set of handcuffs from his belt.

We were awestruck by them. It was as if he was a hypnotist and we his subjects.

My wife’s eyes were huge, unblinking orbs. She took in every flash of light on the silver cuffs.

Hopkins lowered his voice and if sharing confidence said, “These are real police handcuffs. A friend in Honk Kong bought them for me. They are the actual ones police use over there.”

I swallowed. I wanted a pair! Real police handcuffs. Wow.

He lowered them before Blair. “They are double locking. You know what that means?”

She giggled, “I am doubly in trouble?”

There was some laughter.

“Well, yeh, that too.” Hopkins continued in sotto voce. “It means you lock them once to hold the prisoner but then lock them a second time so that they won’t get tighter. Stops prisoners squeezing them shut on their wrists and then them needing to be opened. Means you can keep your prisoners locked up for a longer time.”

 Blair had no witty response. Her glossy pink lips fell open showing her white teeth. Her eyes were set on the cuffs.

“Want a give them a try?” he asked,

Her mouth dropped open in shock, but then giggled and held out her wrists.

I can recall feeling almost fully erect. The top of my prisoner outfit didn’t descend far enough to hide my groin so I moved my wine glass to obscure it as best I could. I was breathing quickly, as if I had just been for a run.

Being unaware of anything in that room save Morgan, his double locking cuffs and my aroused wife I cannot say what the others were feeling or doing. Even the music and shouting was wiped out by this moment of electricity.

All attention was on the two of them.

Morgan kept his eyes locked on my wife’s as he clicked the first cuff around her slender wrist. I could see her boobs rising and falling under the clingy prisoner outfit. She was in heat.

“Now I lock it once.” He turned the key in the mechanism and we heard a click. “Now I double lock it.” The lock clunked a second time and we all knew Blair would not be able to remove her cuff without Hopkins’ key.

“The other hand.” Hopkins commanded as if ordering another drink.

Blair was reluctant; I could see her eyes waver. She glanced up at him about to say something but then grinned, as if thinking better of it before offering him her right hand.

He closed the cuff around it and Blair gasped.

“So I lock it once.” Click. “And now the second time.” Clunk.

And so my wife stood before him her hands handcuffed wearing just a sexy, tiny, body hugging tee shirt, pertaining to be a prisoner’s uniform, along with her little ankle boots.

There was a short moment when galaxies formed and were destroyed before the group came back to life and people started snapping pictures on their phones.

Morgan gripped my wife’s shoulders and spun her around so his arm was about his captive. “My prisoner folks!”

If this were a Deborah Ford story I guess the evening would have ended with me in handcuffs as Hopkin’s prisoner and Blair lying on her back on a snooker table while Hopkins took his pleasure. But Hopkins quickly unlocked Blair and started cuffing the other women who pleaded to try the handcuffs.

Blair approached me, her eyes sleepy with arousal searching deep into my eyes. I could almost hear her saying: ‘so what do you think of that cuckold. Your fantasy comes true?’

 We didn’t speak. We walked back downstairs to the dance hall then towards the wine bar. It was at that moment that I felt it. I had precum around my cock. It felt cold and wet in my boxers.

Taking hold of Blair’s wrist I stopped her and she looked at me with wide eyed expectation and a sexy grin.

“We have to go,” I said. “I am damp in the groin.”

She whispered in my ear, “You are not the only one.”

We left with me keeping my hand across my shorts to hide any evidence of ‘spillage’.

Will tell you what happened when we got home in the next journal.

Never asks why he has so many belts to be tidied up, he might show you.

Advice brought to you by The Hotel

Never pout to your wife’s lover  about always being tied up in doors during the day. Remember, he is very inventive.

Advice brought to you by The Hotel