DESCRIPTION: Is it a good idea to fix dates to release a caged cock?

### A Contribution for Halloween Story Contest 2022.

About Resorts. Anywhere, there are many tales about Resorts, or Islands, of Forced Male Chastity, focusing on husband humiliation or sissification (or even castration). By contrast, this Gentle Resort of mine is dedicated to conjugal love, trust, and fidelity, with caged cocks. No Cuckolding or sex between males. There will be something sexual between consenting wives, just to tease their caged husbands.

In addition, to chill out (beaches, pools, bars, sunbathing), the Gentle Resort also offers classes on the Chastity Lifestyle: there are lectures, commented videos, (porn) film analysis, guided discussions, and so on. One such class is about holidays, calendars, and Halloween.

If these things do not appeal to you, it would be advisable to devote the time to read other, more intriguing tales.

English is not my native language, I suggest focusing on ideas rather than grammar.

If you enjoyed it write a constructive opinion. ###

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Chapter 1. Already arrived at the Emergency Room.

On the afternoon before Halloween night, the husband falls down the stairs and hits his back. In the Emergency Room of the nearest hospital, a doctor warns his wife that she and her assistants will give him an X-ray, and the wife pales.

“He’s wearing … uh … how do I explain? He’s wearing a chastity cage!”

“Look, Ma’am, we don’t have time for jokes. Today is Halloween, we’ve already pulled plastic bottles out of a Dracula’s ass, and the hilt of a dagger out of some gracious lady buccaneer. Take this toy away from him, and let’s make it quick.”

“It’s not a toy,” cried the wife, covering her face with both hands, “it’s a real metal cage and it’s impossible to get him out!”

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Chapter 2. A class on the topic: chastity and calendars.

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The big screen projected images of a rainy and cold Halloween, chilling the minds of the audience in the hall of “Resort MCbGF- Male Chastity by Gentle Femdom.”

Physical sensations, however, reassured the bodies of each hugging couple, husband and wife. The sun warmed the skin without providing erythema (and Erich the Red had been abundantly protected with sunscreen), and the cake, homemade cookies, and hot coffee helped to soothe the bodies.

But one of the worst fears of a couple living male chastity as a 24/7 lifestyle was being aired on the screen.

That was exactly what one of the Croatian teachers at the Resort, the precise and caring Milka (yes, that’s her real name. No, she doesn’t spill milk from her nipple. Yes, it is a common name – in Croatia. No: you are not elementary college children, now enough with the jokes, that’s what at all times happens in the Resorts, there is at all times a foreign language funnily interpreting the names. Stop laughing).

It was summer. As in many summer camps, the Gentle Resort had no shortage of Halloween tales. The participants were no longer teenagers, but they had other fears and other doubts, on other levels.

Teacher Milka said, “In a 24/7 chastity lifestyle there is always the fear, that he would be sick (or passed out), and that no one would know how to free him from the cage. That is why we always recommend that there be at least two keys to the cage and that he ‘know’ where to find them, even if he may have to break a pane of glass to reach them (and, inevitably, confess to his wife that there was an emergency, and why).

A caged cock is not without risk, and it is our duty in this course for beginners to illustrate the dangers and the simplest solutions to avoid the worst damage.

Oh, of course, since chastity is often joined by a good dose of BDSM…”

Here Teacher Milka paused and looked at a Dutch husband and wife couple. The husband spent almost the entire day with his wrists handcuffed behind his back and perhaps slept through the night that way.

Milka smiled and continued, “BDSM, which as you well know, is not just simple little things like two Velcro handcuffs that can be opened at any time, but also ropes, blindfolds, gags. We always recommend never leaving a person tied and gagged alone, especially if your husband is in his 40s and 50s but in general. Better safe than sorry.”

The Dutch couple exchanged a look full of love.

Milka continued. “Over the years (over the decades: almost centuries) BDSM has matured many conventions and special advice, but it seems to us that there is still a lot of confusion about caged cock. You will often find, in porn sites of movies or captioned images, women threatening their partners to close the cage without even telling them, contravening the most basic rules of consensual negotiation.

Or, even women blackmailing their partners, threatening to seal the lock with molten metal, or to throw away the key, into the sea or under the sand, things like that. I suppose these phrases may sound exciting, or soothing: as Seneca the Roman philosopher said, the most soothing thing in the world is to observe someone in dire straits from a safe and sound distant point of view.

Which is perhaps why we, as children, watched Daphne Blake and Penelope Pitstop bound and gagged in every single episode of the series.”

Everyone laughed in the classroom. They were all strangers from different States, but the laughter was all the same: and a shared Culture beyond censorship was seeing those Damsels in Distress characters, who inspired emotions and feelings in each husband (or wife!) present in the class.

Milka waited for the laughter to subside. “I don’t want to say that message is wrong. There will exist a man who wishes the woman who loves him to throw his key into the sea: I do not know him, but I imagine he may exist. And there will exist a man who wishes to be forced to wear the cage by deception, while he sleeps drunk. I do not know him and never will. What I do know without a doubt, is that there is a whole literature of platitudes around long, scheduled «chastity Sentences», with releases far apart in time (and additions of an additional two weeks for «Punishment»!).

So as not to bore you with my flat voice, I leave it to the screen to tell you about this Halloween Tale.”

After these words, Milka started the presentation on the screen. They were static photographs, taken from old movies or a family collection; in the background, some Halloween music could be heard, while the characters’ voices were dubbed in an amateurish but surprisingly effective and engaging way.

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Chapter 3. I love and admire you.

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Cathy was deeply in love with her husband Richard, especially after the breakthrough that happened last summer.

He had at all times been a philandering womanizer, harassing female colleagues and school students.

She had turned a blind eye for many years.

But at some point, his lifestyle was beginning to become detrimental to his career. He was wasting time at clubs and bars. His reputation was hurting him: female colleagues avoided him, and girl students did not want to work together with him.

Before the summer, Cathy put him in front of a choice. An aut-aut. There were two possibilities: if he wanted the marriage to work and the career to take off, he had to stop flirting with everyone.

Promises, in these cases, do nothing to rein in an overly restless male. Both agreed that a chastity cage would help him focus and avoid silly affairs and inconclusive flirts.

The real turning point had been a summer archaeological mission to Greece. Richard had been designated as a leader of a Team of Scholars (four young women) who had made a sensational discovery that revolutionized the perception of Greek mythology.

In a nutshell: Hercules wore a chastity cage, and the Queen of the Amazons (Hippolyta) pegged him using a magical ivory strapon (known under the name «Hippolyta’s Belt»).

Each of the girls had achieved significant career advancements, but especially Richard, who had published a highly successful book on Hercules: and a Hollywood Major had already paid him the advance for a contract, to produce a movie. And he was also to serve as a scientific film consultant and perhaps even appear in a cameo.

Rich, trendy, and admired by scholars around the world.

But most of all loved and admired by his wife.

Cathy was incredibly happy. She had at all times been in love with him, but the new lifestyle filled her with love.

How do you explain it? Some women believe that sex is one of many household chores. And as such, to be done quickly, without commitment, already thinking about the next chore. I make dinner, and meanwhile, I think about setting the table. I set the table, and meanwhile, I think about ironing. I eat dinner and still think about ironing. Uh! What an irony! Before ironing my husband wants to do “his thing,” hopefully it will take two minutes, maybe if I take it in my mouth I’ll do it faster (and still thinking about ironing). Finally, I iron, and meanwhile, I think about making the bed. One chore after another.

For Cathy, now (closer to 50 than 40), sex meant Richard licking her pussy for hours. Whole hours. At all times him wearing the cage. Often she would force him to serve her handcuffed with his wrists behind his back. By now he was used to it and could even sleep through the night.

At first, she handcuffed his wrists behind his back, because unconsciously she was afraid he would get angry or become mad at her (he had never hit her, but precisely it was an unconscious fear).

Now, she continued to handcuff him often, more for the symbolic meaning than anything else. She trusted him blindly, but the handcuffs served as a reminder to both of them, “We both want you to struggle, to give me an orgasm: if your hands were free, it would be too easy for you, and we both know you owe me compensation for years of neglect.”

Richard was happy. Not only had he eagerly acceded, but also he was aware that his career was in danger of failing. Moreover, brief one-night stands with unknown women did not satisfy him–yes sure, he would cum, but then what? A week later, he couldn’t even remember names.

Now the cage made him happy. Strange but true. And the girls who had contributed to the archaeological discovery had become real friends. Even if at first they were just happy, teasing tormentresses since his wife had instructed them to tease him in every way while they were on the tiny island.

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It was morning. One of the two brought breakfast to bed. One of the two woke the one who was still sleeping with a kiss, whispering, “I love you, and I admire you.”

The one who was sleeping squinted an eye and replied, “I love you, and I admire you, honey. And thank you for breakfast!”

Which of the two had brought the tray? No matter. Isn’t that what true love is, when a gesture is made by me for you, or by you for me, and we both perceive that it is made by both of us for both of us?

Breakfast had arrived on the tray above the bed, and the couple kissed.

Cathy sucked his tongue, smiling: she knew full well that when she sucked his tongue, his cock struggled between the metal bars. Helplessly. Richard smiled, too, and said again, “I love you, my Goddess…Miss Cathy.”

She sat on the edge of the bed, spreading her thighs and touching the floor only with the tips of her toes, arching the soles of her feet. In this way, she showed him her perfectly shaved pussy and clitoris stretching outward, under the hood. Her labia were wet: evidently while preparing breakfast she was anticipating the sexual activity she would impose as a kind Keyholder on her eager slave. With one hand she took the coffee cup, with the other she indicated with her finger to Richard to kneel.

He was sitting on the bed, but he knew well the meaning of Cathy’s orders. She wanted to see him crawling like a worm, rolling over himself, pivoting on the cage, like a hogtied man struggling on the beach sand beside his sunbathing wife in the nude.

So, Richard lay down again, as when he was lying down while she was making breakfast (and he pretended to be asleep, but was already awake). When lying down, he had to work twice as hard to manage to slide out of bed (on the opposite side of the bed from where his wife had sat!), and then crawl on his knees all the way around until he reached the space between Cathy’s knees.

Without anger or resentment, Cathy was aroused by seeing him suffer and struggle to reach the desired position: seeing his struggle was like an intoxicating drink. And with each movement, she could see his cock leaping inside the metal walls of the cage as if he were ready for penetration, which, however, was impossible at that moment.

The other element that turned her on was the knowledge that she would have no “duty” to reciprocate: their pacts clearly stated that she was the Keyholder, and she could decide whether or not to release him completely arbitrarily, depending on her mood, regardless of how much commitment he had shown. There were no fixed dates, no days to count, and no tasks to perform. She could have released him on any day and at any time. Even now, as he licked her, she could have said, “I want you to fuck me, release the cage.”

Not at that precise moment, though. Breakfast was even sweeter for her, with a trendy and respected school professor licking her pussy, and she was enjoying the coffee and all the sweets on the tray.

Cathy caught herself thinking, “Funny thing! Now, that my husband is at the height of success and fame, seeing him handcuffed is even funnier: so different from the dashing lecturer who used to shake hands with mayors and pastors! I wonder why so many think the chastity cage is for losers, for betas: my husband is a respected and admired man with a remarkable cock, although we are both happier now that his cock was in the cage.”

With one hand, Cathy gently stroked his hair, and occasionally encouraged him with her fingers to go deeper, or move to the right. She would whisper sweet phrases to him: a sign that he was still in full possession of his mental faculties. But little by little, Cathy began to lose the ability to express complete sentences. She stopped eating and leaned her hands on the mattress. She groaned and could no longer speak full words.

Richard knew the time was right. With his tongue, he sucked the pussy as when blowjob a male. He concentrated first on the left side, then on the right side: he sucked and nibbled and rejoiced when he heard her moans. He gave a little flick with his tongue to her clitoris, then dove lower. Beyond the perineum, he found Cathy’s rosebud. She had begun to have it shaved completely, a few months ago, and he found it delicious. Some men think it is humiliating to lick the anus of the woman they love, but he was convinced it was as sweet as honey. She had just washed, and he could smell the soap. Certainly before making coffee. Richard wondered, “I love you, wifey,” but his mouth was too busy to speak.

He stuck his tongue inside her rosebud, like a hummingbird inside the long cup of a fragrant flower. He pushed, hard, several times, then returned his focus to her pussy, leaving trails of drool along her perineum. He buried his tongue inside the pussy, pushing in as far as he could, while weakly bumping her clitoris with his nose.

Cathy groaned out of all control. She lifted her legs and locked her ankles behind Richard’s neck, forcing him to hold the position.

The two leather handcuffs fastened by metal straps locked his wrists behind her back. With an effort, he could only rest one forearm on the edge of the mattress.

The cock struggled in the cage, its knob shiny and purple.

He grunted. She moaned. Then she screamed. Loud, a long, intense cry, like a person falling from a building. Finally, she crashed on the mattress, almost fainting.

He, on the other hand, trembled with tension. Her calves held him tightly, tight as a wrench because her feet were entwined and her ankles tight as a knot. Richard barely breathed but did not protest: he would rather sacrifice himself and even his own breath than interrupt his wife’s magical bliss.

After a few minutes, Cathy parted her mouth in a smile and squinted happily. “That was the best orgasm of my life, love.”

“So far,” he joked.”

She laughed joyfully. She slowly spread her feet apart, untangling the knot in her ankles. “Did I hurt you, honey?”

“You never hurt me, honey.”

“Oh! If I were one of those Keyholders you see in porn, I’d now have to do the imperious voice and say, «How dare you confide, the title is at all times ‘MISS Cathy’, for you, humble slave! This outrage will cost you two weeks of denial, crop, and spanking!» oh dear, ha, ha!” giggled Cathy.

He said nothing. He was on his knees, worshipping the two main deities of his personal Olympus: Cathy, and Cathy’s wet Pussy, still throbbing from the orgasm he had given her.

“But I am not one of those cruel Keyholders. On just the opposite. I am perhaps far too generous.” With a simple gesture, she removed the thin golden necklace from which the key hung. “Here are my orders. Hand me your wrists and I’ll release you. Go to the bathroom. Use cold water if you need it, and open the cage with the key. Come back here. Have breakfast–don’t touch me unless you’ve eaten first. I’m a sweaty woman who needs a little breather. After breakfast, I want you to fuck me — without respect, without “miss,” without any hesitation. I want you to fuck me thinking only of your cumming. Happy Halloween, honey. But don’t get used to it: you know I don’t keep any consideration for Calendar Dates.”

Richard knew that these orders had to be followed to the letter. He took his time to make his very hard cock flaccid, using the cold water. He sat down next to her and ate breakfast, in silence, with gurgles of approval at the goodness of the pastries. With the smell of coffee in his mouth, he approached her, who was looking at him with lust-filled eyes.

Cathy said, “If you want, you can handcuff me… Master… and command any whim you wish… Master…”

When her voice repeated “Master,” Richard lost all control and went berserker.

Perhaps for that reason, they both preferred him to be handcuffed. I don’t know. The educated and cultured professor turned into a hungry and thirsty barbarian, strong and invincible.

He fucked her in a rough, primal way. She orgasmed, again. Richard waited for her because he did not want to cum before he was sure she had come. The cage had had that effect on him as well – it had increased the duration of intercourse and resistance during penetration.

Richard knew that Cathy was never faking it. If she moaned and screamed with pleasure, it was because she was having a second orgasm, as sincere as a mirror. Only then did he increase the pace of his penetrations, and he dumped all his cum into her loving womb.

Panting, Richard smiled at her, and said again, “I love you, Cathy.”

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Chapter 4 A too-tall pumpkin: Jake-o’-Lantern.

Now that they were both happy, everything that happened in life seemed more gorgeous, almost as if it were new.

They lived in a small villa with a pool and a large garden, with a tall hedge of trees all around. She, for many years, used to sunbathe in the nude (wearing only sunglasses), knowing that passers-by could not see her. There was also a large barbecue, with a massive umbrella.

When the children were young, they also participated in the candy collection, but over time the family had become detached from the autumn celebrations. Perhaps Richard’s reputation as a womanizer had also harmed both relations with neighboring housewives and any requests for treats from little girls and girls, heaven knows!