Frustration Pt. 03

The rest of that evening passed in a haze of sexual torment and sweet agony of submission, teasing, and denial. You stripped out of your evening dress to reveal a skimpy little black thong and matching black mesh half-cup bra - your outfit for the rest of that evening, one that drove me mad with lust, watching helplessly as you paraded your long legs, tight ass and big firm boobs in front of me. You had me bound tightly, face up, on your bed, spread-eagled, to give you full access to all of my most sensitive areas. I lost count of the number of times you brought me to the trembling edge of orgasm, there in your luxurious bedroom, bound and helpless to resist your tender caresses, sharp slaps, tickling fingernails, and all the rest of the weapons you employed as you inducted me into the world of true, mind-bending sexual denial. My voice echoed through your house as I cried out again and again for release - God, I begged for you to let me cum, I begged over and over, weeping tears of frustration more than once that night, promising to do or say anything you wanted, if you would just wrap your sweet fingers around my thick shaft and jerk it hard until I came.

Each time I begged, you teased even more cruelly and sensually, at one point even lowering your fragrant pussy onto my face while I was tied to your bed. My nose and mouth were filled with the deliciously intoxicating scent of your juices, which were flowing freely as you got off on my suffering. I wanted so badly to tongue-fuck you, to lick and suck your beautiful, hard little clit, to probe your shaved pussy lips and listen to you moan with pleasure. But no - you are a cruel teasing bitch, and you had fixed a ball gag firmly in my mouth. That sweet cunt was so close yet so far away, and as you gyrated and ground it against my face, you giggled wickedly at my feeble attempts to work my mouth against your flesh through the gag, and my muffled moans and grunts of frustration.

My cock and balls received very little attention from you that night - just an occasional caress or tickle, or even a light stroke up and down the shaft with your loosely circled thumb and forefinger, just to make sure I was still "interested," as you put it. I lived for these moment, I prayed silently during each long tease that you would have mercy and touch my cock, even for a moment, with your fingertips, nails, lips, hair, anything. One of your more cruel techniques was to do things like you'd done in your dressing room that first time: make me think you were going to pleasure me, do everything you could to convince me that it was for real this time, then pull away at the very last moment, laughing, ass swinging, strutting across to the other side of the bedroom to stand and watch as I begged and pleaded and moaned in disappointed agony.

Finally, you announced to me that it was time for me to go by giving my cock and balls a brief, tight squeeze with one hand, making me groan loudly, and releasing me from my restraints and ordering me to get dressed. Of course, despite my pleading and begging throughout the evening, you had not allowed me to cum. As I reached for my clothes and reluctantly began to pull my boxers on over my stiff cock, you told me to wait. You retrieved the spray bottle you had used on me earlier that evening, along with the cock cage, now sticky on the inside with my dried precum and sweat.

At the sight of these objects my eyes filled with tears of frustration - I couldn't help it.

"Oh, fuck, mistress, please, no..." I whispered.

"Shut the fuck up," you cooed sweetly, smiling. "Or you will never see me again."

The thought of that was worse than the cock cage, so I stayed quiet as you sprayed my dick mercilessly until it was semi-soft, then stuffed it into the cage and locked it up tightly. You dangled the key in front of my tear-streaked face before slipping it, on its chain, over your neck again where it hung tantalizingly between your beautiful tits. You noticed me staring, and moved very close to me, stripping off your bra and cupping your boobs in both hands, jiggling them a little. You gently pinched your hard little nipples, and gasped softly with pleasure.

"Wouldn't you love to titty-fuck these?" you whispered, jiggling them again. "Lube up my cleavage with a little baby oil, and slide that big dick of yours right in here?"

You let some saliva dribble into your cleavage, and rubbed it around sensually with one finger.

"Mmmmm..." you purred. "Nice, hard cock between my boobs..." You closed your eyes, as if imagining the scene.

This was having exactly the effect you wanted - my cock was trying to become erect again, inside the goddamned cage, and it fucking hurt as much as it had earlier. The sensation that my genitals were being crushed in a fist began to come back, and I bent over involuntarily, trying to ease the pain.

You immediately went into bitch mode, dropping your tits and giving me a sharp slap on the cheek.

"Stand up straight, and put your fucking clothes on."

I gasped at the slap, and said, "Yes mistress."

Within a few seconds I was fully dressed, my jeans zipped over the bulging cock cage, my groin sending bolts of pain into my abdomen.

"Good," you said curtly. "Now go."

You pointed at the bedroom door. I hesitated, earning myself another hard slap, this time on my ass. Even through my jeans, it stung. You were stronger than your slender frame suggested.

"Go," you said again, your exotic face darkening.

I wanted desperately to ask when I would see you again, and when you would release me from the cock cage. But I knew speaking again would be a bad idea. So I hurried out of your bedroom, my head spinning with tormented, frustrated sexual need and my tortured cock burning and aching like fire.

I spent the rest of that night desperately trying to find some may to ease the pain in my groin and maybe even give myself some kind of sexual release. I dug my fingers around the base of the cock cage, I tried to slip one finger through the slit in the tip, and I even tried using a Q-tip to massage my frenulum through the slit. Nothing worked. The cage was designed to prevent any sort of sexually satisfying contact with the imprisoned penis and balls, and it was cruelly effective. There was also no way in hell I would be able to take it off, not without ripping my balls off in the process. When the next morning came I woke up slumped in a chair in the small living room of my apartment, not even realizing I'd fallen asleep trying to find some relief from the cage.

I didn't hear from you that day, or the next, or the next. I had no choice but to wear the cage everywhere, all day and all night. Every hour that passed without a text or a call from you made me more desperate, more certain that you'd played a cruel trick on me and weren't going to make contact again, much less release me from chastity. I began to have visions of a humiliating trip to the emergency room to have the cage taken off.

By the time two weeks had gone by, I was a walking wreck. My work suffered; my social life practically disappeared; I couldn't even look at attractive women without the threat of throbbing, twisting pain in my cock and balls. It felt like an eternity since you had locked the cage onto me, and despite the suffering it caused, a small, secret part of me, a part I didn't want to acknowledge at the time, was finding perverse pleasure in being locked in chastity. The chafing and rubbing of the hard plastic against my skin made it turn raw and red, but somehow it also felt good. In hindsight, thinking about it now, I realize I was beginning to fully understand and accept what it meant to submit to you, and to derive pleasure from knowing that my suffering was pleasing you.

But fuck, my cock needed relief!

---

Finally, almost three weeks since our night out, I got a text from "private number." It consisted of a date, a time, and an address. Nothing else.

I was at work when the text came, and I had to close my office door when I read it, because I nearly cried with relief. Maybe you would let me out of the cage - I hoped like hell you would. In fact, I knew right then that I would be begging, groveling, whatever it took to convince you to use your key to release my tormented cock. I didn't care what humiliation or degradation you required - I would do anything, and I knew it.

The date you sent was the following evening. I got home from work that day, showered, and dressed to go out, my heart racing the entire time. I googled the address, and saw it was a high-end dance club across town, a small place called Jump. I wondered what you had in store as I made the drive there - more public embarrassment? Another session with the electrostim cock harness? Whatever it was, I was willing, if it meant freedom from my plastic prison.

I pulled up outside the club a few minutes before the time you had specified, and a well-dressed valet immediately approached and took the keys from me. As he drove my car off, somebody spoke from close by.

"Hi, baby."

Your silky voice was sweet music to my ears. I turned, and there you were, on the sidewalk a few feet away, delectably hot in a micro-mini club dress and knee-high stiletto boots. As always, your cleavage was on full display. You wore the key to my cage on the same thin chain between your tits.

You walked up close to me and pressed a hand gently against my crotch. I winced and sucked in breath.

"Mmmmmm," you whispered close by my ear, resting your other hand lightly on my neck and scratching delicately with your nails. "Now who locked you up in this mean little chastity cage, baby?" Your voice became faux-pouty. "That was so not nice, whoever it was."

"Yes, ma'am," was all I could manage. Between the light pressure on my crotch and the nails stroking my neck, my head was feeling swimmy.

"I bet that poor little dick of yours is just crying to get out," you purred. "Is it, baby? Does your dick want to come out and play? Hmmmm?"

"Oh, god yes, mistress, please..."

Until that moment, I hadn't fully realized just how badly I needed sexual release. My eyes filled with tears, and my face burned with embarrassment. The sidewalk was busy, and we were in plain view.

"Ooooh, poor baby." You gave my crotch a gentle tug. "Mean little chastity cage. Mean mistress."

I moaned.

"Come on inside, sweetie," you said, releasing my groin and taking my hand. "You'll get out of that mean little cage tonight, I promise. And it is going to feel so, so good."

I nearly fainted with hope and relief. I let you lead me by the hand into the darkness of the dance club.

--

You led me through the doors, past the bouncer, a huge bald man who seemed to know you. He nodded at us as we passed, and you blew him a little kiss. Inside, the club was in full swing, the dance floor crowded with people. A song that was mostly synth beats and unintelligible auto-tuned lyrics blasted from the sound system, making the room vibrate and sending thudding sub-woofer pulses through my chest. You weaved your way across the room, with me in tow, and found a small table on the other side. We sat down.

You leaned over and put your lips next to my ear - it was the only way to be heard over the music and voices.

"We're going to have a couple of drinks, baby," you said. "There are some friends I want you to meet, before we get down to business."

"Yes, mistress," I said submissively, not wanting to do or say anything that might piss you off and ruin my chances of release. "Whatever you like, ma'am."

"Good boy."

You nibbled my earlobe playfully, sending a shiver of pleasure down my spine.

A few minutes later you were sipping a mai tai and me a beer, when three people walked up to the table. Two of them were impossibly beautiful women, each on one arm of the third, a young guy who looked like he had come straight from a Calvin Klein magazine spread. The women were dressed like you, in tight minidresses and stilettos, and the man had on a crisp white shirt and dark slacks, his hair short and styled perfectly. You stood up, smiling radiantly.

"Julie! Michelle! And Todd!" you gushed, hugging and air-kissing all three of them. "How are you?"

The threesome sat down. You did not introduce me, and your three friends did not so much as look at me, as you exchanged small talk with them. I quickly felt like a fifth wheel, and knew that this was deliberate - you wanted me to feel embarrassed and uncomfortable, the outsider in a small, intimate group whose members knew each other well.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, you pointed at me.

"Ok, so this is the guy I've been telling you about," you said with a smile. Everyone turned to look at me. The realization that you'd been talking to your friends about me shouldn't have come as a surprise, but for some reason it did. My face flushed, and I took a long swallow of my beer to avoid everyone's gazes. Even as I wondered how much detail you'd told them about our teasing sessions, I felt my cock, which had softened in its cage and eased the perpetual aching, begin to react. It began to press lightly against the plastic. Fuck, I thought. This is actually turning me on. What the fuck is wrong with me?

But of course I knew the answer: my submissive side was running things inside my head now, and any sort of tease or humiliation or discomfort, as long as you were the cause of it, was an automatic sexual trigger.

You told them my name, and all three of your friends smiled at me. In particular, Julie, the blonde, gave me an appreciative look and a sexy little air-kiss from across the table.

"He's pretty cute," she said to you. "Does he have a big dick?"

Everyone laughed.

"Yes, he does," you said, looking me straight in the eye with a wicked smile. "It's fucking huge. I love feeling it stretch my pussy and asshole. Right, baby?"

You fucking bitch, I thought. We both knew we hadn't fucked, and you were toying with me. You knew perfectly well that this dirty talk in front of strangers was getting me hard, and was making my cock throb with pain inside the vicious little plastic box fastened around it.

I nodded. "Yes."

I felt a sharp kick to one of my shins under the table, and I yelped with pain and surprise. Your smile had disappeared, and you were looking at me with an angry expression.

"What the fuck did you say?"

Your friends giggled.

"Yes, ma'am," I said, realizing my mistake.

"Better." Your smile reappeared like magic.

"So that's how it is," said Todd, looking at me with an odd expression. It was a mixture of disdain and...something else I couldn't put my finger on. "You've got yourself another pet."

I wanted to jump and run like hell out of there. But my fucking cock loved it - it bulged and squeezed inside its prison.

"Yes, I do," you purred, back to sweet mode, gently stroking my leg with the tip of your boot under the table. "And we do have a lot of fun together. Don't we?"

"Yes, mistress," I mumbled.

"What?" you said sharply.

"Yes, mistress!" I said more loudly. Everyone around the table laughed at this.

We sat there for a while longer. I remained silent while you and your friends chatted, no longer paying any attention to me, and I knew you were dragging this out, just as you had done at the restaurant, to prolong my discomfort and get me more aroused. Finally you got up.

"We have something we need to take care of, don't we?" you said sweetly, looking at me.

"Yes, ma'am," I answered. The thought of imminent release for my dick made my heart race.

"Yes, we do." You hugged and air-kissed again, and your three friends departed. Julie gave me a little wink over her shoulder as she walked away.

You laughed. "I think Julie likes you, baby! She's pretty fucking hot, isn't she?"

"Yes she is, mistress," I answered quickly. "But not as hot as you."

You caressed my cheek with your manicured nails. "So sweet. Come on, follow me. I have something really special planned for you."