The Cage

Driving home through some annoying Friday night traffic, after another work day in my cock cage, I got to thinking about the long term impact the cage has had on my habits, perspective and demeanor, and not just as I relate to my Mistress.

Mistress directed me to get the cage a little more than a year ago. It was one of the many things we did to help her feel more secure after my colossal lapse in judgment in the summer of 2008. Giving your wife the key to the little device that contains your cock is the ultimate “power exchange”. I wore the cage on and off in those first few months, even on airplanes. But now that I am “under contract”, wearing the cage has become an every work day routine for me. Something that just goes without saying, like brushing my teeth in the morning, collecting the papers out on the drive, or pleasuring mistress while she reads my homework.

After my shower, I slide the little plastic parts around my balls, over my cock, press them together until they mesh, then slide the lock through the little eye that sits on top of my now contained penis. I then ask Mistress to close the lock for me. She keeps the key until she decides to release me.

Here is an odd little video from youtube showing how my cage works. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l37m7fK77Lw

Once the lock is closed, I do notice a certain change in my state of mind. There is a bit of a chill when Mistress smiles at me after closing the lock. It’s an unspoken assertion of her control over me. And although she routinely unlocks me at the end of the work day, if I have worshiped her sufficiently, there is always the possibility that she will be displeased or unavailable for me and the cage will stay on beyond the 8-10 hours to which I have become accustomed. And there have been times when she makes out with me on our bed after worship, with the cage still on. Yikes.

Keep in mind that the cage does cause a certain degree of low grade discomfort as the day progresses. Often a fold of skin or a hair will get caught between the plastic parts. Ouch. I need to reach into my pants and adjust a bit to make the pain go away, which requires some privacy. And with the cage on, it’s particularly uncomfortable to lean over and pick something off the floor or even tie my shoes. All these little inconveniences, including the need to sit to pee, are a constant reminder of my status as Mistress’s Slave.

Of course, much if the day does not involve discomfort. But I am almost always conscious of the restraint on my cock and balls, almost as if Mistress is cupping me there. Now that is a nice thought and good feeling.

I have always been a bit of a Type A at work. And as Mistress knows all too well, in the past I have probably been a little too flirtatious with the women I encounter at work or during my business and civic activities. Not in a annoying sexual harassing sort of way, but simply in the blarney spewing Irishman way. Its in my DNA. It’s how Mistress and I got together all those years ago, truth be told.

But my long term use of the cage does seem to have toned me down big time. Though no one would suspect that good old Mick is locked into some plastic device that keeps his cock out of trouble, there is something about a contained penis that brings out the humility and tones down the hubris in a man.

One of our rules since our road to my submission began is that I may not touch myself for the purpose of providing pleasure without Mistress’s express permission. And while it was never my routine to do that sort of thing at work, knowing that even an involuntary scratch or stroke is out of bounds until Mistress unlocks me tends to focus my mind on what I can’t do. So as we trade little emails or texts during the day with some sexual innuendo, the result is a frustrating little tingle down there that seems to last quite a while, and crescendos as the day ends and I begin my commute home. It’s an itch that I just can’t scratch without Mistress and her little key.

That is particularly true on those days when Mistress stops by, and, behind closed doors, I peel down her tights, and service her. Her taste and aroma are with me for the rest of the day, but my cock is on lock down until she decides to turn the key.

After long term use, the training the cage provides about self denial and personal discipline lasts even when my cage is off. I can’t remember the last time I reached below my waist for any pleasurable purpose. And my days of being a blarney dispensing flirt have ended. Pavlov was onto something.

Now I know I can’t complain. Blogland is filled with sad tales of Submissive hubbies locked into their cages for weeks or months on end. (Though I do think that is more fantasy than reality). For me, cage time rarely lasts more than about 10 hours. My Mistress must either be very merciful, or too into a hard cock to keep me in the cage much longer.

So far the worst I have experienced is an overnight when Mistress had to go to Gotham City, and I was locked away for more than 36 hours. You can imagine how happy and hungry for Mistress I was when I got her home that evening after her trip.

We have had talked about how we might handle longer trips, particularly if she had an encounter with another man while away. Certainly I would want to hear the juicy details, and masturbate with her permission. Or would I be required to stay under lock and key until she returned, maybe several days later. If not, would there me a friend she could entrust the key to to accommodate me, or in an emergency. Once the cage was off, how do I secure the key in a way that Mistress knows I can’t access it again until she returns? Give it back to her friend. Or her mom? That would be an interesting conversation. “Could you hold into this little key until your daughter returns?’

We will keep our reader(s) up to date as we deal work our way through these contingencies.