Prove you can remain chaste whatever the challenge. Read some of our male chastity femdom stories and see what the world of male chastity can bring to you! But remember, no touching that cock…
My New Life in Chastity
I gasped involuntarily as I felt the first touch of cold steel against the soft, oh-so-sensitive flesh of my cock.
“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” my goddess teased. “You just can’t control yourself, can you? Reactions like that are exactly why you’re getting locked up like this. Soon, you’ll be able to slip into your cage like a good boy without making any noise at all.”
I nodded, not daring to risk talking when goddess was in such a mood. I bit down on my lower lip to prevent any further stray sounds from escaping I struggled to keep my breathing slow and steady as her clever hands guided the heavy, stainless steel cock cage over my pitiful organ.
Even with the cold metal and the discomfort of my position – kneeling naked on the tile floor of our bathroom – as deterrents, I could still feel my little cock attempting to get hard.
I mean, who could blame me? I was having my greatest fantasy fulfilled right in front of me—becoming a chastity slave to my sexy, powerful goddess. My tiny cock was becoming her property, to be teased and denied as she saw fit.
It was pretty damn arousing.
Goddess’s full lips bent downwards into a pout. “You’re getting too hard, slave.” I wished my traitorous cock would shrivel up and retract inside my body for daring to displease the stunning vision of perfection I served. But it wouldn’t. It just kept trying to get hard even as she put the cage on me.
“Hands and knees!” Goddess commanded. She didn’t need to explain why. I knew what I had done wrong. I hung my head as I assumed the position she had ordered.
She didn’t give me the slightest bit of warning before striking my bare ass with her riding crop. I bit down on my lip harder than I ever had before, barely managing to stop a scream that would only result in more punishment.
The pain did the trick. My cock shrunk even smaller, and I heard the click! as my goddess secured the padlock.
I was caged.
“Hmm, what should I do with this?” my goddess taunted, holding the small golden key about an inch away from my nose. She swung it back and forth like a pendulum; my eyes followed the movement of the tiny object that now controlled my cock.
“It’s my key to my cock and balls, so I could put it somewhere where I won’t forget it,” she mused. A shiver ran through my entire body as I heard her refer to my organ as her cock and balls. The aforementioned part twitched, stirring a bit as if trying to become erect.
But it couldn’t. The cage was doing its job. The cold metal device made it completely impossible for my poor, pathetic cock to get hard.
Goddess’s smile widened as she witnessed my humiliating twitches. She pretended not to notice as she continued to brainstorm out loud what to do with her new key. “I could put it in my desk, or on my nightstand, or even on the ring with my car keys,” she suggested. Her tone was lighthearted – she knew I wanted something even more intimate to be done with it. And she was going to give it to me, but not without lots of teasing first.
“I could take it to work. Put it on my desk there” she suggested next. I could hear the click of her black high-heeled pumps on the tile floor as she paced in front of me. My eyes were drawn to the hypnotic swaying of her ass just as they had been to the swaying of the key a few moments earlier. “I’m sure the other ladies at work will ask lots of questions, and I’d love to tell them about my submissive slave husband I’ve got locked up at home.”
“Ooh! Or I could get it framed! I think it would make a nice new piece of art on my office wall. What do you think, slave?”
Goddess nudged my caged cock with the toe of her pump, signaling that I could speak. The noise of the steel colliding with the soft, supple leather of her shoe would have made me cum right then and there if I could.
I knew there was only one right answer. “I think you should do whatever you desire most with the key, my goddess,” I told her, keeping my eyes firmly fixed on her shoes, not daring to raise them to meet hers.
“Of course you think that, slave. Because you know that I know what’s best for you. Especially what’s best for your poor little cock.” I could hear the sound of metal against metal as she slipped the key onto a chain, just as I had hoped all along she would do.
“And I think it would be most torturous for me to keep the key right here, so you can always see it and be reminded of your cock cage, slave.” She put the chain around her neck, letting the key fall so it hung right between her large, glorious naked breasts. I was close enough that I could see goosebumps break out on her skin as the cold metal brushed against her.
I moaned. How could I forget about my cock cage – I’d never go another day of my life without feeling the cold steel pressed up against me! I’d never orgasm again, unless my goddess felt I had been good enough to earn a reward. And now I’d have to see the key against her breasts, reminding me of how good they felt, of how I’d never be able to touch them again without her permission.
It was heaven. It was hell. It was everything I’d ever wanted and greater torment than I’d ever imagined it could possibly be.
“Does that suit you, slave?” she asked, giving my locked cock another nudge with her toe. I nodded meekly, still on my hands and knees before my beautiful goddess.
“Good. Remember, you’ve got….” She consulted the manila envelope that held our chastity contract, as though she didn’t know exactly what was contained within. “Two weeks until you have even a shot at earning your next orgasm, so get up and go clean the kitchen. After that, you can hand wash those panties you like so much if you ever want me to wear them for you again.”
I stood up immediately. The steel burned cold against the flesh of my cock as I went, still naked, into the kitchen to begin completing my first task.
I had two weeks to prove to my goddess that I deserved an orgasm. It was time to start earning it.
Welcome Home, Mistress X
Mistress X had been gone for seven days.
She’d taken my big, fat monthly paycheck and gone to a spa with some of her best dominatrix friends. She got all the pampering that she deserved and that my pathetic self couldn’t provide for her while I kept the house clean and worked even harder than usual in her absence.
I couldn’t wait until she came home. I knew that she and her friends would have exchanged stories and tips about their experiences with their own chastity slaves, and she would come home excited, horny and full of new ideas to try out on me. Maybe she’d even have borrowed some new toys from her friends!
And, of course, since it was still another month until my next orgasm, whatever fun she had when she got home would be all about her.
The day she was to arrive home was a Saturday. I spent the day cleaning every inch of the house, so that it would be spotless when Mistress X returned home. I was naked, of course – the rule about being nude in the home didn’t get ignored just because Mistress was out of the house. After all, who knew when she might text me asking for photographic proof that I was being a good boy?
Of course, it was while I was in the vegetable aisle of the grocery store that I got a text from Mistress:
Show me your caged cock. Send three pictures. You have five minutes.
I practically felt the ticking of the clock echoing inside my brain and I hurriedly re-shelved everything I had bought and rushed to the bathroom. Luckily, the stall was empty, but unluckily, the door hung crooked on its hinges – anyone coming into the bathroom would be clearly able to see what I was up to.
My phone dinged again. It’s been two minutes and I haven’t received a single photo. Does somebody want the first thing I do when I get home to be punishing him?
Quickly, I dropped my pants, revealing the pink silk panties and matching stockings beneath. I took one picture of the panties before dropping them too and sending two different angles of my cock in its bright pink silicone cage.
Mistress X didn’t respond, which I could only hope meant that she had found the images satisfactory. My task completed, I returned to my shopping and managed to get home (and naked) again without incident.
But as I cooked, my mind kept returning to the thought of Mistress X on her hotel bed, her legs spread as she touched herself to the pictures I had sent. It was a naughty, naughty fantasy – the mere thought that a pathetic sissy like me, whose only purpose was to be locked up and controlled, was worthy of being what was on her mind when she pleasured her divine pussy.
She would punish me if she found out, of course. And Mistress X always found out.
I could hide nothing from her.
Cooking took longer than usual thanks to my naughty, distracted state, so I’d just managed to finish the meal preparations when another text arrived.
This one contained a picture, something three times as erotic and tempting as anything I had sent Mistress earlier. It was a close up of her lovely breasts, clad in a crimson lace bra that one of her many sexual partners had bought for her. The photo showed the curve of her sexy shoulders and the flat planes of her desirable stomach, but stopped before revealing what panties she was wearing – if any.
The text was accompanied by a single word.
Kneel
I knelt in the doorway – on the cold, rough wooden floor of course, denying myself even the slight comfort of the welcome mat. I kept my eyes down, knowing I deserved only to gaze at Mistress’s shoes upon her return.
The clock ticked onwards, steadily. Ten minutes passed, then a half-hour, then an hour. Mistress X had probably sent the picture from the airport, which was at least an hour away even with no traffic. She was loving just how long she was making me wait.
Finally, with a click of her house key in the lock, Mistress X arrived.
I bowed before her, switching from a kneeling position to a full on prostration before her. My eyes never once dared raise from toes of her knee-high red boots. I didn’t dare speak, even to welcome her home.
If she wanted me to move or say something, she would command it. Until then, I would patiently wait.
“Mistress R brought her new boyfriend along to the spa,” Mistress X said to the air, as though I wasn’t even there. “His cock is eleven inches long. How long was my sissy slave’s, the last time we measured? Two, was it?”
When I didn’t respond, she delivered a sharp kick to my side with one of her heeled boots. “Am I correct, sissy?”
“You are correct, Mistress,” I responded, still keeping my eyes down.
“I think you should be punished for how pathetically small your locked up little cock is, don’t you, slave?”
“I do, Mistress.” My entire body was trembling with the arousal that my cock, in its little pink prison, couldn’t express.
“And those pictures you sent me – so disappointing. You were in the bathroom of the supermarket, were you not, slave?”
“Yes Mistress”
“Such a quick, pathetic little errand, but you’re so weak that you had to put on your extra supportive panties just to leave the house. Your cock is so small and pathetic that it can’t hold up its little cage even for a few minutes. I think you should be punished extra for having to put on panties to go out. Don’t you agree, slave?”
I nodded. She nudged my chin up with one long, freshly manicured nail – painted bright red to match the rest of her outfit, of course. Once she had me back in a kneeling position, she used the toe of one boot to nudge at my balls.
“I could crush these cum-filled little orbs with my new heels, but you’d like that too much, wouldn’t you, slave?”
I nodded a second time.
“So I think I’ll try a different punishment instead. I see you’ve prepared dinner, so I’ll show you a little kindness, I suppose. While you’re serving as my footstool, you’ll get to wear this nice new toy that Mistress R gave me.”
Still teasing at my balls with one of her sexy stilettos, Mistress X pulled something wide and oblong out of her purse. It was a butt plug, the exact same shade of pink as my cock cage.
I couldn’t help myself. My eyes widened and my face paled at the size of that thing. It looked like it must have been modeled off of that new boyfriend Mistress R had picked up.
“You like the look of that, don’t you slave?” Mistress X asked without really expecting an answer. “It’s even bigger than any of my cocks.” It was true. Mistress X loved using her huge collection of strap-ons to penetrate slutty ass, but this was even bigger than her favorite, a bright purple one that looked more like something belonging to a horse than a human.
“My new manicure is far too stylish to risk ruining it in your asshole, so why don’t you prepare yourself for me while I inspect your cage, sissy.” She dropped the bottle of her favorite lube dismissively at my feet.
Grateful that she was even allowing me lube to begin with, I hurried to complete my task. I skipped past one finger and went straight to two, focusing on stretching my asshole while Mistress X took my pathetically small cock in one of her perfectly formed hands.
“Looks like it’s shrinking even further,” she proclaimed. “We’ll have to re-measure you for a smaller one soon. Isn’t that good news, slave?”
I nodded as I added a third finger. I hadn’t quite gotten accustomed to the feeling of increased stretch when my mistress grabbed my wrist and pulled my hand away, leaving me empty and gaping. I whined slightly – luckily she was too focused on inserting her new toy to notice, or else I’d have earned myself yet another punishment.
The pink plug was the biggest thing I’d ever had in my ass. It went in slowly, inch by torturous inch, until I felt so full that I thought I might explode. I felt amazing and awful at the same time. The plug occasionally brushed against my prostate, but in my current position it didn’t provide steady stimulation, only the feeling of being stuffed full.
I went down on my hands and knees and felt the weight of Mistress X’s feet – still in her boots – thrown over my back. She ate her dinner slowly, talking about her week at the spa and all the fun ideas she’d picked up from her sexy dominatrix friends.
“Mistress R was telling me about the new device she got that lets her tie her sissy husband’s balls to the door of her office. That way, if he tries to disturb her while she’s working, the rope will pull on his balls and leave him in just so much pain. Would you like me to do that, slave?”
She kept talking before I could answer. “And Mistress C makes her man spin a wheel to decide if he’ll get to orgasm on his scheduled days – only everything except a tiny little sliver of the wheel says ‘ruined orgasm’. I definitely think I’ll ruin you next month, sissy, after hearing all of her lovely stories.”
I could barely keep my entire body from trembling. The next months of my life were going to be very fun and torturous ones, thanks to Mistress’s lovely friends.
When she had finished her meal, I hoped that she would at least remove the butt plug, but I wasn’t in luck. Instead, I felt myself restrained even further as a heavy metal collar was fastened around my neck.
“Oh, did I mention, dear,” Mistress X remarked, her voice teasing and light as she clipped a leash onto the collar and led me on hands and knees back to the door, “I invited all my friends over for a post-spa girls’ night – and they’re all so, so eager to try you out”