Wearing the chastity device and being denied full orgasms for a year had been harder to bear than I'd expected. I mean, I was skeptical about it when she first suggested it, saying that she wanted me to wear it for a year to demonstrate my total devotion to her, and her total control over my cock and orgasms, but as she slowly talked me into it I managed to convince myself that it couldn't be all that bad, especially since I knew it could come off eventually, and that she agreed to remove it for playtime now and then. I hadn't realized how frustrated I could get, or that frustration could actually drive me to tears.

"I really want you to do this," she'd said. "I want to know that you're this serious about our relationship. Please, honey, if you love me, you’ll do this for me…for us. I want to know that you can take being dominated for a long time without a break."

"You mean you want to test me," I said, not sure whether to feel hurt or not.

"Um, yes, I do. Look, honey, do you really know how much it turns me on to control when or if you get to cum? Do YOU know what your limits and boundaries really are? You say you love it when I control things, but do you really know what it’s like to give up total control of your cock, of your orgasms?" She paused, bit her lower lip, then continued, “Because I'll love you regardless, but I’m willing to be serious about this chastity thing, and I do want to know it's going to work. So yes, I am saying I want to test you.”

"Uh, yeah, I see your point. But a whole year? I mean, admittedly, the idea has intense fantasy potential, but..."

"Dear, I’ve told you how much it pleases me and excites me to know that I had you under total control." She gave me that sly smile that always sets butterflies swarming in my stomach. I think she knows it has that effect on me. "I'd enjoy," she drew out the word 'enjoy' deliciously, "I'd enjoy knowing just how frustrated you were getting. I'd love knowing all the time, even when we're apart, that you're my slave and that you're both enjoying the excitement and suffering for me." She was getting turned on talking about it, and, well, seeing her get turned on does things to me.

"What if I can't take it?" I asked nervously. "And does the chastity cage really work like they say? I mean, is it really practical for wearing THAT long? And what about cumming?? I can’t imagine going anywhere near that long." 

We engaged in chastity play routinely, but she rarely denied me orgasmic release more than two weeks, even though she had occasionally locked me up and denied my orgasm for over a month, except for removal for cleaning and shaving. I noticed my cock twitching as I reminisced about those longer than normal denial periods. Clearly, I found it arousing.

"I'll always have the key, honey. When we need to take the cage off, we obviously can. I promise you’ll get out for some playtime once in a while. I also know you can take a whole year without orgasms, baby. I’m sure we’ll find other ways of releasing some tension," she winked. “But I really want to see you go a whole year."

We talked like that off and on for a couple weeks. I reread material that mentioned male chastity devices. She made sure I knew how much the idea excited her. Eventually, trembling, I told her that I would submit and commit to her total control. That night, she tied me to the bed, teased me relentlessly, slowly stroking my well lubed penis, getting me painfully close to orgasm over and over. Gently sucking it, then mounting me and ever so slowly fucking herself on my swollen member, being careful not to build me up too much so as not to have me cum.

This went on for what seemed like hours, then she slowly slid off my cock, turned around and planted her juicy pussy on my mouth, as I furiously licked her to a couple of orgasms, then she locked things up. “Gulp,” I felt a dryness enter my throat as I heard the lock click shut.

It was deliciously exciting to have her lock me up, knowing that I couldn't free myself and knowing that the plan was for me to wear the cage, essentially twenty-four-seven, and be deprived of orgasms for twelve long months. Fear mingled with excitement. My fantasies and my nervousness played tag, and with my heart all aflutter, I lay there and my mind raced, thinking, “What the hell have I done?”

That next week, she played and teased me; all the build up and the frustration was spice added to our lovemaking. She was very gentle, stroking me here and there, and I made tender love to her with my hands and my tongue. It was frustrating not to be touched on my penis, not even to be able to get hard, but it was the kind of frustration that makes you long and lust for your partner more and more. "This isn't so bad," I thought, "This is kind of fun. A year is a long time, but at least I know the end date."

Over the next few weeks, the frustration stopped being so much fun, at least all the time, but it wasn't too bad. My desires, being thwarted, diminished, and that made the chastity belt easier to bear. I got used to washing with it on, managing to get enough soapy water to run under it to keep me clean. I got used to the way it felt under my clothes at work and slowly, oh so slowly, started becoming less self-conscious about it. I found I had to sit down to pee, and while humiliating at first, I slowly got used to it. I got used to seeing the chastity cage locked on me when I looked in the mirror or looked down at myself. I got used to the gentle swell in my balls and the delicious ache from not being allowed to cum for a few weeks.

I started finding that I truly enjoyed pleasing her without being able to enjoy that same orgasmic pleasure of my own.  Her orgasms, and many there were, became my pleasure outlet. I almost convinced myself that the feel and taste of her pussy when I went down on her, or the wonderful sounds she made, didn't have to result in my dick painfully trying to get hard within its prison and my mind feeling as trapped as my penis by my lack of release. Almost…

After a month, I was starting to feel a little crazy. "I'm not sure whether I can stand this, love."

"Oh, is it really that bad? You've gone longer without sex before, haven't you?"

"Well, yeah, but I could masturbate then." She chuckled, “the days of you jerking off are certainly over.” Her words struck a nerve in a way; surely she just meant during this one-year period. My mind worked against me, my inner self telling me that I would never enjoy stroking my own cock to orgasm ever again. I shook my head as if to clear thoughts, dismissing that immediately.

"Um. Think of it as a challenge. See whether you can master your desires. Do it for me, honey? Please?" She drug out that “please,” so seductively that I melted to her words.

I gulped. "Yes baby, I think I can manage a little longer, but jeez, you make me so hot and horny and this is starting to drive me crazy!"

After three months, I was getting a little irritable. I was also constantly trying to think of ways I could get even a little stimulation on my cock. I was sure that the slightest touch there would trigger release, but to no avail, as I couldn’t get the right stimulation or the right rhythm.  That evening, she decided to give me a little treat as the key appeared for the first time in over three months. “Would you like it if I unlock the cage and let you stretch a bit,” she cooed, and I nodded like a mind controlled slave.

“First, I need you to lie on the bed, and I’m going to restrain your hands, because you know you’re not allowed to touch it, and I don’t want any accidents.” My thoughts were swimming, my desire nearly at the breaking point with my cock straining against the steel bars of the cage.  She had me tied up, and then unlocked the cage, the device popping apart from the strength of my erection.

“Oh my, that’s an awfully big hard on you have honey,” she giggled at the site of the end of the cage clinging, somewhat painfully, to the end of my swollen glans. I then felt some warm liquid, realizing it was lube, and then her finally freeing my member from the confines of the cage. The base ring was essentially buried at the base behind my balls and definitely not coming off anytime soon, while helping to enhance the swelling of my cock.

She started stroking, and, my God, it was the most amazing thing. Here we were a little over three months and it was like having it touched for the first time. She monitored my breathing and reactions to her touch, speeding up and slowing down to keep me on edge, keep me begging for the pleasure, but not allowing me to cum.

I begged. I pleaded with her to let me cum, to have that sweet, sticky milky white release I so craved.

"Dear, I really don't want to let you cum yet, but you’ve been taking such good care of me over the last few months. It's not fair that you do all these wooonderful things to me and give me orgasm after orgasm and I'm not allowing you that same pleasure, is it?”  I shook my head and pouted a bit. “Maybe I should do something special for you?”  I nodded, almost whimpering, “Yes… please… anything you want, honey, anything at all.” I gasped in desperate desire.

“Hmm… How would you like me to fuck you…" Desperate for anything, I cut her off,

"Yes, please Mistress!"

“How would you like me to fuck you in the ass?” Her words hung for a moment as my mind connected things and comprehended finally. I moaned, “Y-y-y-yesss,” was all I could manage.

"Honey, I want to hear you beg for it."

The next half hour was thoroughly embarrassing, as my lust took over and my brain went numb.

I was so incredibly turned on when she started spreading the lube in my ass! Then teasing my tight hole with her finger. And when she started pushing the strap-on against my opening, I was in heaven! Oh rapture, oh delight! My subsequent desire, yet denial for orgasm, had turned me into a total butt slut for her.

As she fucked me, my pleasure built and built, and so did my desire for more, more, more. But alas, never release. My stiff cock hurt, bouncing around as she thrusted her girl-cock deep in my ass over and over, constantly ready, but never allowed release.

Eventually she grew tired and stopped, grinning a grin that would set fire and ice chasing each other around your soul if you saw it. And I actually howled in frustration, moaned in desire while banging my head against the pillow, a tear escaping the corner of my eye.

I eventually calmed down, managed to relax and sleep. Another couple weeks went by, and her routine continued. Tease and denial were the norm, and while I looked forward every time she removed the cage, I also dreaded it as I knew it would end in more mounting frustration, yet deeper desire for her and more and more desire for her pleasure alone, mine becoming an afterthought.  I turned again to begging, and even more humiliating than sitting to pee, begging for her to fuck my ass. A deep desire formed for her “cock” and that feeling from her sliding it in to me, hoping that one day I might find a way to get a release from this foreign stimulation.

Another month went by, desperate, even though I knew it would leave me weeping in frustration again. I knelt before her and begged her again to please fuck me in the ass. She did—hard. And again I flew on winds of sensation, only to come crashing down again, weeping and thrashing in frustration.

Our relationship was getting a little more intense and reaching new highs on all fronts. She bought a new dildo and harness for me to use on her as a “temporary replacement” during my sentence. I noticed that the replacement penis was a bit thicker and longer than my own. I blushed thinking about it, humiliated by a silicone phallus, yet so effectively turned on by the thought of being able to fuck her and stay locked up.

The next time I begged her to fuck me, she refused, but told me to put “my” strap-on so I could fuck her. She came three times on her new toy, and I got a total feeling of satisfaction from knowing that I got her there three times, then my thoughts and ego crashed a bit, remembering that it was the replacement cock that made her cum so hard.

I begged her again to fuck me. She made me wait a week after I got so desperate that I was ready to beg. Oh, I still got to touch her, to enjoy her cries and moans of pleasure as I licked and nibbled, used the strap-on on her. I got spanked more than a few times with a paddle, as well as the occasional swat from her riding crop when my own frustration and desire carried me away and I got a bit too enthusiastic, went too hard, or went too fast.

A few more days went by and she gave in to my begging and she fucked me in the ass, this time really hard, and with a larger cock (that I didn’t even know she had bought). My ass was sore for a week after.

"Mistress, I don't think I can take this any longer! I'm going mad, I'm so frustrated, I mean sometimes it's just so intense and fantastic and exciting, but then I start to get excited and I can't get hard and it gets frustrating again. I LOVE you and I LOVE being dominated by you and I love all these feelings, and I even love the frustration, but I'm not sure I'm strong enough to take this."

"Oh, but you don't have to be strong enough, darling. That's what the lock is there for." She smiled so sweetly, and caressed my face so tenderly that I calmed down immediately, hanging on her every word. "I really want you to hang in there and do this for me. Do you think you can manage now?" His voice was like syrup, and I lapped up every sweet drop.

"Yes, I can,” I said, much calmer. "I think I can. Please forgive me for ... my weakness. I’m starting to feel better without getting to cum, but some days it’s hard.”

"Oh, honey, I know it's not easy. It's not supposed to be easy. Knowing how hard it is for you, knowing that you're always desiring me, excites me." I swallowed, and she continued. "As a matter of fact, I'm excited now, and I think I want you to eat my pussy, and then maybe I’ll be ready to fuck your cute little slave ass again."

Things changed a little after that. Instead of making me wait until I was ready to beg for it and then making me wait some more, she started fucking me in the ass much more often, at her whim. That meant I didn't always have to beg, although she did make me beg often. Other times she made me wear the strap-on I had to fuck her with around under my clothes, so I was “always ready” in case she wanted it.

That was also crazy hot, but crazy frustrating knowing I was always hard and always ready, but never could feel it. Either way, nearly every night one of us was wearing a harness and fucking the other… sometimes both of us got the dick. All of this, in some ways, made the frustration easier to bear, but also more intense because getting fucked excited me, and fucking her, even though I couldn’t feel it, excited me.  I think she knew exactly what she was doing…it was amazing.

Truthfully, our sex life had never been so intense, so frequent, or as satisfying.

I was her sex toy, to be used however she wanted whenever she wanted, no matter my mood or how tired I was. Well, if she'd wanted to, she could have done that earlier. Still, by then it was a lot easier to get into the mood when she decided she wanted me. At first, it was just another neat dimension to our game.

Eventually, I started feeling that I no longer had any rights to my own body. That was both scary and fantastic. And the frustration continued, but was also morphing into a constant euphoria.  I continually desired her in any and every way.  Her slight touch sent shivers down my spine, and made my cock stir.  Her glances, her smile… it was like we were in a constant honeymoon stated, and even our daily routines, work and anything outside the bedroom were much more light and free.

In the last few months, I settled down a bit and started coming to grips more with my situation. I got better at handling the frustration, better and not letting it get in the way of my enjoyment of pleasures, sexual...