“I am going to help you. Do you trust me?”

If you haven’t been following our story, we probably looked like a regular couple eating breakfast. My wife, Carol, was in her robe, at the table, as she asked. I was at the stove, making breakfast, in a tee shirt and boxers. Ordinary looking stuff.

Of course, if you have been following our story you know there is more. My cock is locked in a cage. And the only thing my wife is wearing under her robe is the key.

Six months ago, I was found in a compromising position. My wife has locked me up; to help me, as she put it, ever since. I won’t confess it has built me a better person; I am probably still a pervert. It has built me, in a way, a better husband. Carol gets to have sex and cum as much as she wants. We both sleep nude and get handsy as we sleep, which makes her want it more. I provide my services. Usually, I am locked up, limiting me to oral and manual services.

Sometimes she unlocks me and rides my cock. I am simply not supposed to cum. And Carol at all times locks me up when she is done, especially if I seemed like I was getting close.

Every couple of weeks she let me jerk off. Except for the last two. Just under three weeks ago, she was riding my cock. I told her I was getting close. She didn’t stop. Neither did I. I came. It was good. I won’t pretend I didn’t enjoy it. It was just like sex before the cage.

Carol didn’t say a word. We both snuggled in together and drifted to sleep, just like we would have before. The next morning, she quietly handed me my cage. I locked myself up after my shower. Nothing more was said over the next few days. And then she didn’t unlock me when the two weeks ended.

“I am going to help you,” Carol repeated.

I turned from the stove and sat down with her. “What’s up?” I asked.

“I think you’ve learned your lesson,” Carol started. When I opened my mouth to ask a question, she raised her hand and continued, “Let me finish. I think you’ve learned your lesson. Are you going to get caught jerking off to my friends again?”

“No!”

“Good,” she smiled. “So….”

“So, what?” I asked. Where was this going? I wondered.

She twirled the key, my key, in her fingers and took a deep breath, “Do we need this anymore or can things go back to normal? Can I trust you?”

“Yes,” I said. Or maybe asked.

Carol knew me well. As if she read my mind, she asked, “Was that a Yes with an exclamation point, a period, or a question mark?”

“Yes,” I joked.

“Thought so.” Carol slid over a sheet of paper that had been sitting on the counter. “Read this, if you want”

I had noticed it, but wondered it was from Carol’s job or something. Clearly, I didn’t look that closely. Right at the top in big, bold font it spelled out what it was

“Agreement for a Better Marriage?” I read.

“Yes,” Carol said, as if she was just asking me to sign a check for someone’s wedding present. “Read it.”

She didn’t ask me if I wanted to. Or even say pleased. My cock twitched inside its prison. I started to skim it, asking myself what I was getting into.

“Aloud?” she asked, almost begging.

“No,” I snapped. Carol jumped back. And then in a whisper, “No, I am not going to read it. I am just going to sign it. I love you. I trust you. You are going to help me.”

I signed it.

“Read it,” Carol demanded. “Out loud. Slowly. And let me explain as you do.”

“Yes, ma’am” I replied obediently.

She patted the key between her breasts and whispered, “Read…”

“An Agreement for a Better Marriage,” I read again. “We, Carol and Mark, agree to this to ensure that we no longer have any misunderstandings like the two that have plagued us recently. One: Upon signing this contract, all is forgiven. All.”

“And I do mean all. That party. Last Thursday. Any tensions over this,” she said dangling the key.

“Last Thursday?” I asked. “When I blew inside you?”

“Yes, but that is in the past. Keep reading.”

“Two: We understand that all is forgiven. But we equally understand that forgiving does not mean forgetting and that anything could be a learning experience.

“Three: We agree that Mark seems to be a better person when under the control and discipline of another. Specifically, Carol. Three. Mark specifically agrees to this, in all methods.”

“Do you?” Carol asked.

My cock strained against its cage. “I already did, didn’t I?”

“I suppose so. Keep reading.”

“Four. Carol alone decides what this means.”

“Questions?” Carol interrupted me to ask.

“Is that it?”

“Strip,” Carol ordered.

I had agreed to this. I complied. As my shirt and boxers hit the floor, Carol pointed to the corner of the room. I got the message.

“Hands on head. Good boy. This may be the lightest of punishments. Hopefully we won’t have too many.”

“Hopefully,” I said.

She motioned for me to stand in front of her, stood up, and dropped her robe. Naked except for her key, she kissed me. Deeply. And knelt down before me. My cock twitched again, struggling in its prison. Carol kissed my cage. And licked a tiny drop or precum.

And then took her key off her neck and unlocked me. I immediately sprung to full attention. Carol kissed me again and sat down.

“Back in the corner, hands on head.”

“Any questions?” Carol asked.

“Is that it?” I mumbled again.

“Yes. When would you like your weekly fun to be? I think Monday night. What else is there to look forward to on a Monday?”

“What?”

“Are you in or are you out of our agreement?”

“I signed it, didn’t I? I said I trust you, didn’t I?”

“Monday okay then?”

“For what? I don’t figure out. You said you would explain things…”

She slapped my ass. Hard. I didn’t even notice her get up before I felt it. And then she slapped it again. My cock was hard. Aching.

“There is a second part of the contract,” she started. She walked over behind me and cupped my ass. My cock twitched. She kissed my neck. “Do you want to hear what you might be getting into?”

“I already agreed.”

“This is mine,” she said, grabbing my erection, gently. She slowly stroked it and continued, “Repeat after me.”

“This is mine.”

“My penis is yours.”

“Good boy. I decide when and if you are unlocked. When and if you cum”

“You decide when and I am unlocked and when and if I cum.”

“I get to have sex and cum whenever I want.”

“Carol gets to have sex and cum whenever she wants.”

She pushed herself fully against me. I could feel her breasts on my back. Her breath on my neck. The smooth skin of her leg against mine. She continued slowly stroking my cock while cupping my balls in her other hand.

“May I cum?” I asked. Or maybe warned.

She kissed me on the cheek and said, “No.”

She turned me around, reached up and kissed me on the lips. Deeply. I pulled her in closer to me. Six months ago, a kiss like that would have made me instinctively grab her ass and start playing with it. A kiss like that would have ended with Carol’s pussy full of cum.

I hesitated. What would happen now? I asked myself. Carol took the lead. As I had agreed to. She took one of my hands down and guided it to her ass. I took over and pulled her closer to me.

We didn’t make it to the bedroom. We could both feel my cock twitching between us. We stumbled out of the kitchen hand in hand but landed in the living room instead of heading upstairs.

We pulled each other down to the floor and I entered her.

“Fuck me!” she cried.

I did. I entered her. I thrusted. She came quickly. I thrusted more, picking up speed. She came again.

And she tapped my waist, ever so lightly signaling me to pull away. I pulled out and rolled over onto my back.

Carol snuggled into me, her head on my chest and her legs curled over mine. She kept one hand on my penis, playing with the juices on it. The other was on my chest, feeling my breathing.

“I love you,” I said.

“I love you too,” Carol replied. With a smile. And looking down at my penis, “And I very much do love you too!”

We laughed. We shifted around and kissed again.

“Can I cum?” I asked between kisses.

Carol broke the kiss, smiled, and took my hand. She led me to the bedroom and laid down. She stretched her arms out, grabbing the headboard, highlighting her breasts. She spread her legs wide and invitingly.

“Beg me” she said.

“Please, Carol,” I said as I crawled into bed. “Please let me cum!”

“No, silly,” she giggled. “Today isn’t Monday. But I am gonna help you and let you eat me out!”

I complied. I trusted her.