While gasping through clenched teeth, I stood shivering under the ice-cold shower. My aching erection throbbed in my grip as a grimace twisted across my face. The stainless steel ring snugly encircling my genitals made the bulging veins squirm under my skin like angry serpents.

After three gruelling months in chastity, my cock didn’t feel like my own anymore. Although aware of every pulse and throb, the firm flesh in my hand felt like it belonged to someone else.

With my free hand, I cupped my overheated balls. Laden and boiling with months of unspent semen, I squeezed them with all my strength as a ghost of a smile touched my lips and my nostrils flared from the euphoric pain. A silent scream hammered at my eardrums with a deafening roar, the intensity threatening to shatter my sanity.

The urgency building within pushed me towards the edge. As freezing water dripped from the tip of my cock, the gut churning ache rose from the pit of my stomach into my brain. I clamped my jaw even tighter, fortifying my willpower to suppress the urge.

The sweat beaded on my frigid brow as the insistent pressure threatened to break through my resolve, like a battering ram. “Keep it together,” I said, clamping even harder on my balls.

While caught in the turmoil between lust and reason, I revisited the moment leading to this point in my life. The sharp, bittersweet memory of that auspicious day returned with vivid clarity. I recalled the smell of fresh-brewed coffee filling the air and the chair squeaking beneath me as I sat at the wooden kitchen table.

Bella, my wife, sat across from me, an unnerving silence hanging in the air. Her piercing eyes locked on my expression as I read the agreement. Through countless discussions, we had divulged our secret fantasies and decided that drafting a contract would ensure we made them happen.

The stark black and white page titled Hotwife/Cuckold Contract held the words defining our future—a future I wanted more than air or water or food. Bella craved a taste of the forbidden. She longed to experience the intoxicating excitement of venturing beyond the conventions of marriage.

“I want to feel another man’s touch,” she said, as a shiver ran through her exquisite curves, her nipples stiffening. “I get so wet, imagining the fire in his eyes as he loses control and ravages me with his uncontainable lust.”

To see her so wanton that she would indulge in wild, uninhibited sex with a lover ignited a powerful, unremitting need. This primal need, so rooted in my psyche, compelled me to surrender heart, body, and soul to make it a reality.

“I want more than to watch you fuck another man,” I said, squeezing my erection between my thighs at the thought of prolonged denial. “I want you to dominate me, to control my physical needs as you see fit.”

“I know. It’s in there.” Her lips shifted from a playful smirk to uncertainty as she said, “I hope you don’t expect me to be a full-fledged domanatrix.”

I chuckled at her comment while trying to hide the sheer erotic terror of complete surrender. Although the thought of abandoning my compulsive need to control defied logic, I found the idea scintillating. Letting go and surrendering to chaos felt like a thrilling, forbidden dance.

Despite my minimal input in drafting the document, I knew she had designed it to fulfil our deepest desires. Mind clouded in lust, I scanned through the rules. Only the words “hotwife” and “cuckold,” registered in my brain, the rest blurred into a meaningless jumble of shapes against the fire of desire.

The blank space next to her decisive signature at the bottom of the page beckoned my mark of approval. I took the pen from her hand. Visions of my Bella’s naked body entangled in another man’s arms swirled through my head.

Her wide and expectant hazel eyes met mine as she bit her lower lip in anticipation. On the cusp of actualising my greatest fantasy, my arousal approached uncontrollable heights. With lust burning through my veins, I nearly leapt across the table, unleashing my raw passion.

“So you’ve read and agree to the rules?”

“Yeah, yeah,” I said, more focused on the thrilling possibilities than the mundane regulations. I’ve fantasised about this for decades, I reasoned, so I already know how this will play out. Thousands of stories and videos, painting vivid images in my mind, shaped my expectations.

“And they are?”

I glanced at the contract again. The cryptic symbols etched on the paper resembled ancient hieroglyphics—their meaning obscured by the cuckold fog in my mind.

“First rule,” I said, pointing my finger, “you’re the hotwife and the second rule says I’m the cuckold.”

“And you agree with everything else?”

“Of course,” I nodded with a buoyant smile, ready to leap into the unknown. “Let’s do this.”

I clutched the frigid pen in my trembling hand, its metallic chill a stark contrast to the erotic heat building in my crotch. Rampant desire guided my hand. Each looping stroke of my signature, a stepping stone leading to the realisation of a reality I never thought possible.

 ***

Though we have not had sex together in the nine months since signing the contract, Bella and I have grown ever closer while living our best lives. Like a simmering pot of stew, our marriage has been building and deepening in flavour, even without the key ingredient.

In the interim, my soulmate, my goddess, has transformed into a captivating and confident hotwife. As she blossoms, my undying adoration deepens. To my delight, her intoxicating sensuality grows from every interaction with her lover, Dale.

We met him online, and despite the twenty-year age gap, his maturity shone through our conversations. He checked all the boxes—attractive, humble, and extraordinary stamina.

I snapped back to the present, the frigid shower cascading over my trembling form. Still stroking my throbbing cock, the memories of their first fuck flooded back, vivid and raw. On a continuous loop, I revisited the moment Dale finished inside my wife.

With my mouth watering and heart thumping, I revelled in the magnificent sight. My gorgeous wife, sweaty and radiant, lay next to her lover with her legs spread. Another man’s cum seeped from her swollen lips, wetting the sheets of our marital bed.

Transfixed on the scene, I imagined the cum soaking through the layers, leaving his indelible mark on our mattress and our lives. Determined to reclaim my woman, I scurried across the bed and positioned myself between her legs. While lost in a cuckold reverie and dripping with a lust greater than I’d ever known, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

Intoxicated by her scent, I couldn’t wait another moment. I directed my rigid flesh towards her doorway, expecting a soft, warm welcome. Startled by the unexpected obstruction, my eyes flew open to see her hand barricading her entrance.

“Absolutely not,” she said, shaking her head while keeping her hand in place.

“Huh?” My face twisted in confusion. Ravenous for her flesh, I struggled to speak. “But … I—”

“You know the rules.”

“Rules? Wha—

“Remember rule 2.2.”

Although my urgent need had no inclination for the rules, I rifled through my brain and said, “Right, that’s the one saying the cuckold needs to clean out the bull’s creampie before he can fuck his wife. I’m sorry, I—”

Her hand moved with lightning speed, pulling my head down as I finished my apology with my mouth pressed into her pussy. No matter, I thought, I love this anyway. I’m going to savour every drop and then…

Focused on my task, I ground my erection into the mattress and grunted into her neatly trimmed mound. Wild and primal with need, I wanted to eat pussy and fuck simultaneously.

Despite the mounting temptation, I embraced the aroma, the texture, and the taste of their conjugal fluids. A symphony of sweetness, musk, and spice exploded on my tongue, delectable beyond description and surpassing previous fantasies. To make sure I drained her of every drop, I rolled onto my back as she rose to straddle my head.

Slow and rhythmical, she slid along my tongue, tracing a sensual path from her clit to her rear entrance. My cock throbbed, fighting to stretch beyond the limits of its flesh. Her puckered hole, meeting my tongue, ignited a hunger beyond resistance. I gripped her ass, digging fingers into flesh, intent on devouring every inch of my goddess.

Tongue rigid, I dove into her wrinkled sphincter as she shuddered and quaked towards orgasm. Rocking faster and harder, her climax tore through her body. On reaching her peak, she smothered my mouth with her pussy and jammed my nose in her ass.

Mine alone to savour, I welcomed the ultimate cuckold prize, as a gushing release flooded my mouth. Their mingled fluids pooled and danced on my tongue, making my head spin. Instead of gulping it in one swallow, I let it slide down my throat until it all settled into my belly.

The taste lingered in the back of my mouth as I lunged my probing tongue deeper into her cavern. Hungry for every drop and true to the agreement, I scoured every inch of her inner walls, removing all traces of Dale.

Although emptied of his cum, insatiable lust kept me glued to her pussy. Moist, warm and soft, I wished to stay there for eternity. However, my erection screaming for attention became impossible to ignore. Rampant and ready to reclaim my wife, I rolled away and guided her onto her back.

Once again, with cock in hand, I leaned forward and met the same obstacle. The sound of Bella’s emphatic “No,” followed by Dale’s chuckle, caught me by surprise. Her stern glare, sharp as a dagger to the heart, left me speechless and breathless.

“B … but—”

“Rule 2.3.”

Eager for release, I kept stroking my cock as I struggled to remember. Despite the simplicity of the contract, the details remained a mystery. More focused on fisting myself to orgasm than answering the question, I edged closer to the finish line.

As I tensed my body, focused on the familiar tickle building at the base of my cock, Bella’s chiding voice caught my attention. “You realise there will be consequences if you keep going?”

Paralysed by her words, my arm went limp as the forgotten rule resurfaced. Confidence shone in my eyes as I stated, “The cuckold must remain chaste, only engaging in sexual intercourse with the hotwife after the bull has ejaculated inside her pussy.”

“That’s the rule,” she said with an emphatic nod.

“But he did cum in you, so move your hand and let me fuck you.”

“Since you cleaned out every drop, fucking me now, violates Rule 2.2 and voids the contract.”

“Huh? I have wait until he fucks you again?”

My voice trailed off to a mumbled slur. Shoulders slumped in defeat, I sank onto my knees, erection still in hand. Caught in a quandary, the wheels in my head spun, trying to figure a way out. I looked forward to Dale inseminating her again, but that meant cleaning out the cum before having my turn.

“I really need to be inside you, why can’t we fuck before cleaning Dale’s creampie?”

“Nice try,” she said, tracing a finger down my chest and stopping just short of my groin. “But the contract stipulates that all rules must be followed in the order they are written. Any deviation voids the contract. Is that what you want?”

“No. I want this.” My grip tightened on my erection. “This is awesome. But the contract’s not fair.”

An icy dread rippled through me as the pieces came together. The weight of the ominous truth crushing my fantasy, revealed a horrifying reality, I could not ignore.

“Following the rules of the contract, means I’ll … I’ll never get to cum.”

“I know, it’s quite the predicament,” she said, her compassionate eyes studying my face while cupping my cheek.

“It’s … it’s a Cuckold Catch-22.” Trapped in a dreadful nightmare, I grappled for a sliver of hope that seemed impossible to reach.

“Sounds about right. But if that’s not what you wanted, why agree?”

“I was too horny to pour over all the details … I just wanted it to happen.”

“You looked distracted when you skimmed through it so quickly. Too late now, unless …”

“Unless?” A fragile glimmer of optimism flickered from my eyes while awaiting a response.

“Unless it ends now.”

“No … I … I can’t.”

“Then we stick to the agreement and no more complaining.”

With a defeated nod, I fell into her soft and welcoming arms. A sob welled in my throat and my gut twisted in knots as I buried my face between her breasts. She held me in a consoling embrace, fingers idly running through my hair and down my spine.

Betrayed by overpowering lust, I had relinquished control of my body to my wife, and I didn’t mind. Anchored in both liberation and trust, I surrendered to my woman’s will, knowing this would only strengthen our bond.

As a deeper truth surfaced, I realised that the punitive terms of the contract were less painful than imagined. I longed to concede to the power of denial—to forgo the need for orgasm. Denial kept the burning ache alive. Like blowing on a smouldering ember, the intensity was a breath away from explosion yet contained.

My engorged shaft twitched involuntarily, confirming this truth. As if to seal it with love, my wife planted a tender kiss on my forehead before sitting next to Dale. Fully immersed in the moment, I absorbed every sensation of my wife’s pleasure while Dale’s finger slid between her swollen lips.

“It’s time for round two,” he said, leading Bella to the edge of the bed, eager for a second helping of her delectable flesh.

He nestled the head of his powerful erection between her warm, moist folds, stirring her fluids. My cock lurched as I caught her scent of arousal wafting in the air. As much as I yearned to be in his place, I found equal satisfaction in watching another man pleasuring my wife’s body.

He turned to me with lust-filled eyes, “Don’t keep us waiting,” his husky voice eager with anticipation. “Be a good cuckold and guide me in this time.”

A combination of lust and disappointment etched across my face as I circled my fingers around another man’s flesh and pulled it forward. With bittersweet endearment, I watched the love of my life hook her heels around Dale’s back, welcoming his cock into her willing body.

“Mmm,” his eyes widened in amazement as their groins collided, “the way your pussy melts around my cock, it’s so perfect, I never want to come out.”

“Uh-huh,” Bella’s unintelligible moans, raspy and alluring, triggered his sudden movements. Like a thoroughbred sprinting towards the finish line, he powered into her as their grunts and huffs and groans drove me wild with lust. Vision blurred and rational mind numbed, the tingles churning in my balls, propelled me to the edge of orgasm.

My need to orgasm in unison with them fuelled my pistoning arm. Sensing their approaching climax, I matched their rhythm, timing my release with theirs. As we peaked together, our collective gasps resonated into one harmonious wave of unified bliss.

Delivering his foreign seed into my wife’s depths, Dale’s buttocks clenched and spasmed between her shuddering thighs. Meanwhile, with convulsions tearing through me, I erupted. Like a gushing fire hose, I release three intense spurts. The first shot glanced off his thigh, with the rest landing on my wife’s belly.

A moment frozen in time, the air crackled with an electric buzz of forbidden passion. Overwhelmed by a collision of emotions and sensations, I crawled onto the bed and collapsed next to Bella.

The dribbling remnants of my seed smeared against her leg as I embraced her elegant form. Our hearts racing and bodies still buzzing in the aftermath of our first cuckold experience, we melted into a passionate kiss.

“Don’t mean to interrupt,” Dale said, smoothly inserting himself between us, his resonant voice sending a shiver up my spine, as he added, “That was beyond awesome, but I’ve gotta split.”

Their lips locked in a lingering farewell kiss. “You’re a spectacular woman.” He slipped a finger into her well-worn pussy and then stuck it into his mouth. “This will have to keep me until tomorrow night,” he said, smacking his lips through a satisfied grin.

A vibrant “Can’t wait,” escaped Bella’s lips, the excitement palpable as she chirped back, “see you at 6, don’t be late.”

 “After tonight,” a steely glint sparkled in his eyes, “I swear, no force on earth could keep me away.” He cast a beaming smile of admiration, saying, “You two look so comfortable, I’ll let myself out.”

At the sound of the front door closing, the echo of his words lingered in the air. Doubt and regret came rushing in like a tidal wave. Now, in the post-orgasmic decline, I hoped for us never to lay eyes on Dale again. The idea of a stranger fucking my wife while I handled cleanup duties sounded like the plot of an erotic horror novel.

“About tomorrow night, not so sure—”

With a gentle but firm grip, Bella’s hand on my cheek interrupted my protest. “Let’s discuss this in the morning,” she said in a soft whisper, her eyelids drooping. “I’m exhausted.”

Still reeling from the evening’s events, I struggled to focus my thoughts. With more questions than answers, I grappled with this maddening Catch-22 situation—a paradoxical knot of contradictions, defying resolution. Despite the frantic need to discuss our contract and renegotiate the terms, I could only manage a weak nod.

“Sleep tight,” she said, her tender lips brushing against mine before rolling over to nestle her back into my chest. The silken touch of her supple skin wedged against mine did little to appease my angst.

The following morning marked the beginning of a new chapter to our lives. Still wrapped in our robes and lost in separate thoughts, we sat at the kitchen table, enjoying a breakfast of fresh-baked scones and rich espresso.

After gulping down my last mouthful of coffee, Bella placed a wrapped package on my crumb-riddled plate, saying, “I got you something.”

“What’s this?” I asked, setting down the coffee cup before picking up the box and giving it a shake.

“What every cuckold needs,” she said with a subtle smile leaking from the corner of her mouth.

Bella’s cryptic words triggered a rush of emotions, as my throat tightened, and my cock stirred under my robe.

“About that—”

With a tender touch, my wife’s finger pressed onto my lips, silencing my words. “Open the box first.”

I tore through the wrapping, flung open the lid and extracted a black velour bag. A sparkling gold drawstring kept it cinched closed. Embossed in the same gold across the centre of the bag, I traced the words Penalty Box with my trembling finger.

“Is … is this …?”

“It’s okay to say it,” she said, staring into my eyes with compassion. “It’s a chastity device.”

“And you really expect me to wear this?”

“Only if you want to keep playing this game.”

“Of course, I can’t wait for tonight. Watching you with Dale again … but this is too much.”

Eyes alight, Bella dragged her chair closer and said, “Go on, open the bag. It should be the right size.”

Like Pandora, I stood on the brink of unleashing the demon lurking in my darkest recesses. With a racing pulse and dread twisting in my gut, my fingers hooked the loops and pulled. I fought to control my trembling fingers as I removed the items from their protective packaging and laid out the gleaming stainless steel parts onto the table.

Both fascinated and horrified, I held up the sturdy metal chastity cage, marvelling at its diabolical design. To guarantee chastity, a series of metal rings joined to a curved shaft created a restrictive tube, preventing unwanted erections.

“This is cruel, I … I can’t.”

“You agreed to this. Why are you stressing?” she asked, puzzled by my resistance, “Rule 2.5a says that for the first infraction, the cuckold only remains locked in urethral chastity for 3 days.”

“Yeah, I remember that part,” I said, my fingers toying with the bars of the cage, “but whether I’m wearing this thing or not, I still don’t get to cum.”

“You came yesterday, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” I choked out, barely able to form words, “but now I need to wear this contraption.”

“It’s not like you’re wearing it for the rest of your life.”

“So, I’ll get to cum after the three days?”

“Of course, you can cum all you want, but …” she drew a sharp inhale, her intense stare boring into the back of my head, sent an icy chill creeping up my spine. “Just remember that for each infraction, your chastity increases to three weeks, then three months and then indefinitely.”

With the severity of my predicament weighing on me, I blurted out a defiant reply without thinking. “You’re not always around to check, so how will you know if I cum or not?”

Bella reached into my robe and grabbed my genitals with a firm yank. “These belong to me,” she said, her eyes lusting and predatory, “and I can tell when they’ve been used. But it’s not my place to control your actions. That’s your decision alone. Besides, you don’t want to live with the guilt of deceiving me or sabotaging what we just started.”

She was right; I delighted in being a cuckold, and found an unrivalled pleasure from watching Bella fuck another man. My cock, hard and raging under her gentle touch, begged for more attention. Heady with lust, I was only a few firm strokes from erupting into her hand.

“You want me to keep going?” she asked, her sultry voice igniting my lust as her hand glided up to cover the head of my cock. “Tell me to stop and I will.”

My body boiling with lust, her soft, delicate fingers danced along my rigid flesh. Inciting my cuckold fever, the same scene haunted my thoughts. I kept reliving the moment Dale’s buttocks clenched and back arched when he emptied himself into my wife.

Her determined movements continued as I stared at her, speechless and panting with need. With the telltale tingles rising into my pelvis, I was seconds away from spewing. Mustering every ounce of discipline, I seized her wrist, glared into her eyes, and said, “Stop.”

A compassionate smile returned to her face as she let go of my pulsating erection and knelt in front of me, saying, “Good decision.”

In silence, Bella slid the base ring down my shaft. While holding it against my crotch, she forced one of my testicles through the opening with her thumb. As it popped out on the other side, a violent jolt, like a punch to the gut, stole my breath.

“That’s one,” she said, her fascinated eyes widening in awe.

A tighter fit than I expected, I braced myself for her to squeeze my second ball through an even smaller opening. “Ok, ready,” I said, drawing a lungful of air, while involuntarily tensing against the impending pain.

My hardening cock pulsed and throbbed next to her face as she forced my resistant testicle into the opening. This time, the rush from the agonising plop had me rock hard.

“Thought this might happen,” she said, reaching for the glass bowl hidden under the table and submerging my erection into the ice water.

I lurched from the initial shock but remained submissive. Once my little man withered to a manageable size, Bella suckled the head, swirling her tongue around the crown and gave my dangling balls a solid smack.

“See you in 3 days,” she said, her satisfied smile a stark contrast to my agonising groan as I struggled to stay upright.

She extracted a tube of desensitising lube from her robe pocket and removed the cap. With a gentle touch, she wiggled the open end into my urethra and squeezed. Before the lube threatened to spill out, she took a firm grip of the head and inserted the catheter rod into my inner passage.

Slow and steady, the tube invaded my sensitive shaft. The pressure from the rod stretching my urethral walls made my cock twitch and quiver. Although uncomfortable, a peculiar blend of pain and pleasure coursed through me as I witnessed my penetrator being penetrated.

Within seconds, my flaccid cock disappeared into the cage, with the metal tab slotting into the base ring. She inserted the key into the cylindrical lock and gazed up at me with a mischievous grin.

“Ready?”

“Uh huh,” I nodded, too afraid to look between my legs.

While our eyes remained locked, she turned the key. Although barely audible, the faint metallic click resonating between my ears held monumental implications.

“Hmm, let’s see how well this thing works,” she said with curious admiration, as she lifted my balls in one hand and the cage in the other. She gripped the base ring and tugged until I complained. “No worry about that coming off.”

“Yeah, how delightful,” I said, my strained smile did little to appease the rising panic in my chest.

“Let’s see what happens when I do this,” she said, with a seductive glint in her eye as her pointed tongue slithered between the rings like a playful serpent.

Desperate to feel her lips wrap around my head, I considered snatching the key from her hand to free myself. Aroused beyond logic or reason, my cock swelled, straining to escape its imprisonment.

“Hmm,” Bella said with an amused smirk, “your flesh bulging through the openings, makes your cock look like the Michelin Man.”

Despite looking ridiculous, I grinned and kept silent. While battling with my inner turmoil, the rod stretching my urethra caught my attention. With the numbing agent fading, a sharp, uncomfortable burning sensation intensified my urge to tear off the contraption.

As if invaded by an army of fire ants, I felt their tiny mandibles chewing at the insides of my shaft. The agonising burn shot through my groin, up my spine and lodged into my brain. I took slow, laboured breaths to calm my growing anxiety, while my wife cradled and kissed my balls.

“It’s just three days, right?” My exasperated plea was a desperate attempt to soothe my stress and evoke sympathy from my beloved.

“As long as you behave.”

Time dragged on for an eternity as my wife and her lover indulged in three gruelling days of heated passion. A relentless, gnawing hunger for release, dominated every thought and feeling. The void in my heart ached with bitter jealousy, not from possessiveness but from the lack of physical intimacy.

***

“Finally,” I said, breathing an enormous sigh of relief after she released me from my mandatory confinement.

“You did well,” Bella said, a proud smile lighting up her face. “But I think the hardest part has just begun.”

“I think you’re right,” I said, eyeing my immediate erection, while ignoring my desperation to touch myself.

“Do you think you can stay compliant without the cage?”

“It won’t be easy, but I’m sure I’ll manage.”

To show her and Dale, I could stick to our agreement, I committed myself to abstinence. But my freedom was short-lived. I only lasted four days before falling victim to my urge. Overwhelmed from the sheer intensity of Bella and Dale’s five-hour marathon session, my willpower failed.

After edging myself for the entire afternoon, impulse took over, and I broke the glass. Unable to hold back a week’s worth of repressed desire, I sprayed my seed all over my chest with a restrained grunt.

With immediate regret surging through me, I dashed into the bathroom before either of them could see the mess I’d made. While the sounds of my wife and lover echoed against the cold tiled walls, I wiped away all evidence of my failure.

I snuck back into the room in time to see Dale emptying his seed into my wife. Hoping my indiscretion had gone unnoticed, I dove between her legs to slurp up his mess while he dressed and bade us farewell. Once I finished probing her depths with my eager tongue, I relaxed, believing I had escaped the consequences.

My wife surprised me with a long, passionate kiss, followed by grabbing my withered flesh and pumping it with vigour. Like a virgin teenager, my heart raced with excitement, and I got instantly hard. Hopeful thoughts filled my mind when she rubbed her thumb over my urethra, her gaze intense and mesmerising.

“You want this … don’t you?”

“Uh-huh,”

Her words, volatile like gasoline, fuelled the inferno raging in my loins. Unsure of where this unexpected turn would lead, I anxiously waited for her next move. In the next breath, my entire world crashed before my eyes as she released a sharp huff, her expression hardening into a grim mask.

“You don’t have much self-control, do you,” she chided, her brow furrowing into a scowl. “That’s three more weeks in the penalty box.”

Before I could speak, she had deftly locked me up again and threaded the key back onto her hotwife anklet.

“How did you know,” I asked, my cheeks flushed with shame, the bitter taste of defeat lingering in the back of my throat.

“You didn’t do a good job hiding all the evidence,” she said, while rubbing a droplet of cum between her fingers.

 ***

 Despite enduring three weeks of penance, with unwavering conviction, my hard-won freedom vanished within a single, crushing day. More painful than my own disappointment, the troubled look on Bella’s face ate at my esteem as she locked me up yet again.

During the three-month incarceration, wearing a chastity device became strangely soothing—a surprising comfort I had not expected. Even though the foreign rod impaling my urethra burned with discomfort, I grew to enjoy the sensation.

Over time, I learned how to use the device to stroke myself internally. While Bella and Dale played together, sliding the rod up and down my urethra, provided a stimulating tingle. I fantasised that one day, I could achieve orgasm using this technique.

Although that moment has not yet arrived, today marks 118 days since Bella first fucked Dale. This day also coincides with the completion of my three-month confinement. As a reward, she removed the device before they began their lovemaking.

With the threat of indefinite chastity looming over my head, I knew the danger of overstimulation. Despite the fear, I relished in the sensation of my fingers gripping around my erection and stroked at a slowed pace to avoid any unwanted accidents.

I’m not sure if they intended to challenge the limits of my commitment, but their intense connection quickly rocketed to a fever pitch. In a haze of hot, steamy passion, they melded into a sensual dance of lips, and tongues and fingers, each movement igniting a fire in my loins.

Unwilling to endure another failure, I squeezed my erection to stifle my urge. Harder than steel, my flesh did not yield to my grip. Hoping to rescue myself from imminent doom, I picked up the chastity cage and considered reattaching it to myself.

Cold and familiar, the cage dangled between freedom and restraint. As I twirled it in my hand, weighing my options, I understood the futility of my dilemma. Who am I fooling? There’s no resolution to this Catch-22.

Meanwhile, Bella had climbed on top of Dale, riding him like a rodeo bull. Abandoned to pleasure, she rode the man with ever-increasing thrusts until they climaxed together. On the brink of catastrophe, I pinched the head of my cock and sprang upright.

Anxious to avoid spilling my seed onto the rug, I headed towards the bathroom. Each step sent a jolt through my body as my muscles tightened like springs. The intense pressure, a vice around my body, forced the urge to subside. In a dreadful panic to regain control, I stumbled into the shower stall.

While desperation pulsed through me, my trembling hand fumbled with the knob. A sharp, metallic squeak from the handle announced my imminent relief. I welcomed the shock as ice-cold water flooded over me, stealing my breath.

To regain composure, I inhaled deeply and pressed my hands against the unyielding smooth tile. Eyes squeezed shut and gritting my teeth under the cold cascade, I ignored the urgent need screaming in protest. The compulsion had dissipated, but the throbbing ache in my balls remained.

Although fully committed to the contract, I feared that if I didn’t climax soon, I might explode or go insane. The image of a snake slithered into my mind, as I imagined shedding my skin, the frigid water washing away my discomfort.

With my erection gone and my mind clear, I stepped out of the shower. As I dried off, I caught my reflection in the mirror and paused. The haunted look behind my eyes told my story—a man struggling to survive in a deranged reality of his own making.

“This isn’t normal,” I said, looking at myself in the mirror. “Now I understand why priests struggle to stay celibate?”

The repulsive image of lecherous old men defiling altar boys turned my stomach, but from it, an idea sprouted. The cage, once the symbol of imprisonment, shimmered with the promise of salvation. At the risk of permanent chastity, I planned to continue practising with the urethral insert until I could orgasm at will.

Even if she knows, what can she do to stop me, I reasoned, castrate me?

I gazed into the mirror, envisioning Bella’s radiant face, and said, “Babe, one way or another, I’ll figure out a way to orgasm. I don’t care about the consequences, my seed is going inside you or all over your body.”

 After hanging up the towel, I returned to the bedroom and found my wife lying on the bed alone. Spread-legged, she dipped a finger inside and flashed a seductive smile. Without speaking, I crawled towards my gorgeous, luxuriant woman, eager to execute my plan.

By the time my tongued dipped into her folds, my raging hard-on had returned. Anticipation bubbling inside me, I savoured every drop and brought her to a resounding orgasm.

As she recovered, Bella’s compassionate gaze filled me with joy. I slid up against her heaving form, my mind racing with mixed emotions. After nestling my head between her breasts, I let out a whimpering sigh.

“Is everything okay?” she asked, tracing the lines of my neck and shoulder with her fingertips.

An icy shiver ran up my spine, intensifying the unbearable anguish. “No, it’s not,” I said, my bottom lip quivering, while ramming my erection into her thigh.

“What do you need?”

“To be inside you,” I said, positioning my erection at her entrance, “and don’t speak. This is happening.”

“What about the indefinite—”

“Fuck the rules.”

I saw her need surfacing—a silent plea hidden behind startled eyes. Dizzy with lust, I surrendered to a need beyond description. In one swift motion, we locked lips as I plunged into her warm, moist depths. Home at last, I nearly came in one thrust.

“How, I’ve missed this,” she said, in between fevered kisses.

With tongues dancing around each other like twirling snakes, the dam burst with an explosive force. Spasm after glorious spasm coursed through me in waves. Shuddering from my core, I released every frustrating moment of chastity into her womb.

Free of mental turmoil and balls empty, I collapsed on top of my wife’s panting chest. In the quiet hush of the afterglow, I settled into a newfound stillness. I gave no thought to the shadow of failure, the sting of guilt and the weight of impending consequences.

“I need you inside me too,” she said, idly toying with my stirring cock, “So I’ve been thinking about exercising Rule 2.1.”

“Oh?”

***

 The Hotwife/Cuckold Contract

(Note: all rules are sequential and must be followed in the order they are written.)

Rule # 1 – The Hotwife

The wife is free to have sexual relations with men outside of the marriage, with full consent and support from the cuckold husband.

Rule # 2 – The Cuckold Husband

2.1 – The hotwife has the sole authority to modify the rules of this contract.

2.2 – The cuckold must clean out all remnants of the bull’s creampie from the hotwife, immediately after delivery.

2.3 – The cuckold must remain chaste, only engaging in sexual intercourse with the hotwife after the bull has ejaculated inside her pussy.

2.4 – The cuckold may touch himself while the hotwife and bull engage sexually, but he may only orgasm inside the hotwife.

2.5 – Should the cuckold husband violate any rule, he shall face the following disciplinary action.

a. First infraction—the cuckold shall remain locked in urethral chastity for a minimum of 3 days.

b. Subsequent infractions—the cuckold remains in chastity for 3 weeks, then 3 months and then indefinitely.