Dangerousangleofadream - Femdom

I've said it before but I'll say it again, edging while bursting to pee is just the best. The edges feel amazing and i feel so pathetic. I could go to the bathroom but i like how intensely uncomfortable it is. I like the gamble of going for just another edge when I know I'll (pretty soon) reach a point where I can't hold it anymore. It's worth it, the edges are so good and i deserve to suffer

Cruel Nurse

You’ve been in an accident that has left you half-paralyzed. You can’t really move, but you are on the mend. It’s just going to take a long while. You do have feeling in certain parts, however. In fact, it would seem your genitals are all the more sensitive, though this may have something to do with not having been able to touch yourself or release for three months. All you get down there are a few tender sponge baths, and we aren’t exactly allowed to take it further. At least not until I come on staff.

I’m apparently either exactly your type in the looks department, or you’re just so pent up any woman will do. Perhaps a combination of both. You get an erection every time I walk in the door, and today, it doesn’t seem to want to quit. I give you a small frown. “What’s this about, then?” I say.

You mumble an apology and mention it’s been weeks since you could touch yourself. My frown remains but now it is a sympathetic one. “I see. That must be very difficult for you.” You mumble something, and I lean over, my cleavage quite visible, and say, “Speak up, please, I can’t hear you.”

“Please, please touch me!” you manage to choke out.

My eyebrows raise a bit. “Well, that certainly is a bold request. Well, lucky for you I am single.” I walk out the door, leaving you confused for a moment, but I am speaking with two other nurses, telling them to keep a look out. I come back in and go over to the shelf. I grab a latex glove and slowly slide it onto my hand, letting go of the cuff with a snap.

I close the door and pull the privacy screen around us, then pull up a chair. I reach over and grasp your penis. You are so sensitive, the touch sends a shiver down your whole body. I begin to stroke you, in quick rhythmic tugs. You babble a stream of thanks. I have to restrain myself from smiling in that cruel way that every boyfriend I’ve had learns to fear.

I sit prim and proper, a look of clinical boredom on my face, though the twinkle in my eye suggests I’m having more fun than I’m letting on. My hand, moves mechanically, the latex glove making the whole scene seem strangely impersonal, but even this heartless touch is more than enough to inflame your poor, lonely cock.

Suddenly, my hand stops. I am still touching you, but I pinch your cock just below the penis head. Your cock flexes in between my thumb and forefinger, but the sudden cease of stimulation and the pinching have cut off your climax. You gasp and look at me confused. However, the moment passes and I resume my stroking. I continue for a few more minutes, then stop again, just before you peak.

Again you gasp, and this time look to me with a pained expression. I wait a moment, and resume stroking, only to stop again a few minutes later. You beg me to keep going, but I give you a cold look. “Be quiet,” I say. “Do you want to cum or don’t you?” Eyes wide, still confused, you nod almost drunkenly. “Then be quiet. You don’t want to get caught like this.”

Maintaining my detached expression, I edge you again and again for nearly an hour, teasing you to the brink, then backing off only until you’re about to get yourself under control, then starting up again. Your sticky pre-cum coats your stomach and my gloved hand.

“How often did you used to masturbate?” I ask you with forced flatness, emphasizing the words “used to.” It’s the first time I’ve spoken in an hour and the words briefly startle you.

“T-t-twice a day,” you gasp.

“Oh, my,” I say. “So you must be really frustrated, I take it?” You nod vigorously. “Well, then, I shall have to be careful not to get you too excited.”

“Oh, please, PLEASE!” you whine.

I just give you a look of bored tolerance, staving off another climax with the pinch, then slowly resume stroking as you let out a frustrated groan. Another half an hour of edging goes by, and you can only offer pitiful whimpers and pleas. I’ve got the rhythm down to edge you almost once a minute. Suddenly, after one more close call, I stop and stand up, pulling the sheet back over you.

“What are you doing?!” you gasp. “You can’t leave me like this!”

“I see no reason not to,” I say. “I’ll be back later, we can pick back up then.”

“But you can’t! Oh, Jesus, I need it so bad!”

“I see. And what are you going to do about it?” You squirm in an attempt to reach your cock yourself, but you only wince in pain. “See. You’ll only hurt yourself if you try. And that could make this recovery go even longer for you. Which I suppose I don’t mind. That just means even more opportunities to do this.”

You start to beg again, but I immediately fix you with a steely hard gaze. “Stop that,” I say. “No begging. It’s annoying.” You open your mouth to protest. “Stop it.” I say with finality. You’re mouth works, but I hold my gaze, and you look away, defeated. You mutter an apology.

I say nothing for a moment. Then I leave the room. I return a minute later with a blood pressure sleeve. Wordlessly, I pull back the sheet, slip the cuff over your penis, and begin to repeatedly squeeze the bulb.

“What are you doing?” you say, startled by this. I say nothing, just continue to squeeze the bulk. Almost entranced, you watch the sleeve inflate, and for a few moments, the squeezing of your cock is pleasant. Then it becomes uncomfortable. Then it becomes almost painful. Only when you let out a yelp do I stop increasing the pressure.

“Oh god, please, take it off, take it off!” you beg.

I give the bulb one more squeeze and say, “Shut up.” You curse. I squeeze the bulb one more time. “Shut. Up.” You have to bite your cheek not to say anything, or even whimper. I let the sleeve hold for a few moments, then I slacken the pressure just enough that it’s just uncomfortable again. However, the tight grip forces your cock to remain rock hard.

I slip something out of my pocket. It’s a little “bullet” vibrator. I ease it into the edge of the sleeve, right on the sweet spot I discovered as I was stroking you, then give the bulb one more squeeze to secure the vibe in place. You grit your teeth as I turn it on.

“I’ll be back to check on you in an hour,” I say. “I suggest cumming within that time if you really want release.” I pull the sheet back over you and leave.

True to my word, I don’t return for an hour. When I come back, there are tears of frustration running down your face. Despite the erotic sensations of the vibrator, the cruel sleeve has not allowed you to release. I remove the vibe, then wait another minute for you to calm down a bit, before releasing the pressure of the sleeve and removing it.

However, I then remove a long, thin ribbon from my pocket. I tie it snug around the base of your cock then loop it around your testicles, before pulling the ribbon down and tying it to the bottom frame of the bed. This pulls your testicles away from your body, while enticing your penis to remain hard.

“Wh-what are you doing?” you moan, pitifully.

“Just making sure you’re secure.” I sit on the chair and resume my stroking. You immediately try to cum, but the ribbon pulls tight against your balls, resisting your natural urges. Despite my steady, unceasing ministrations, you still cannot release.

Desperately, you plead for mercy, and ask me why I am doing this. I reach over and flick your testicles. Not too hard, but they are quite sensitive, and it’s enough to make you yelp in horror. “Be quiet,” I say.

I stroke you for some time, maintaining my mechanical tugging, but you hang on the edge of orgasm for as much as ten minutes, the bondage cruelly preventing you from going over, before I have to stop and let you cool down.

You’re steadily leaking pre-cum now, and my glove is slick with it. I use my other hand to steady your cock, holding it at the base. Then I take my gloved hand and begin to run a finger around and around the ridge of the head, stopping to slip the finger down across the frenulum, then back up to circle around the ridge.

You let out a series of sharp cries and whimpers, and despite my orders, you beg me once more. I slip my hand down and now, instead of my finger on the ridge, the palm of my hand catches your penishead. I twist my palm against you like I’m unscrewing a lid, making sure to curl my fingers to tug gently on the ridge as they slide along it.

You let out a low scream and try to thrash, calling for help. I give your balls a quick slap. “Stop talking,” I say. My voice doesn’t change, but you know I mean business. Every time you talk, I give your balls another slap, and soon, you force yourself to remain as quiet as possible, returning to a pathetic whimper.

After another few moments of this, I stop, and stand up. I then pull a device from my doctor’s coat, a small box with wires coming off of it, ending in pads, and a plug. It is an electro-stimulation device. You look at it with renewed terror. You’re about to protest once more, but another look from me, and you know better.

I attach the little pads to your penis, in three pairs along the length of the shaft. I then plug the wires into the box, plug in the box, and turn on the dial. Immediately, you feel every nerve in your penis light up with a rapid pulsing of sharp pleasure along the length of the shaft.

You can barely draw breath to scream, much less beg. Your body shudders with overstimulation. I then replace the blood pressure sheath, careful to maintain the placement of the wires. I squeeze the bulb until your penis is just a bit too snug in its grip. Your cock head, already an ugly shade of purple, swells to maximum tension. I leave your balls bound; between that, and the sheath, you will not cum no matter what. I turn up the dial on the e-stim to maximum, and agonizing pleasure ripples through you.

Knowing you can’t help but cry out now, I produce a gag, and secure it around your mouth. I lean close to your ear and say, “My shift is ending, so I’ll be back tomorrow. The nurses have been informed to make sure your current condition remains stable until I return.” With that, I leave you to suffer through the night. If you haven’t managed to cum by the time I get back, well, clearly you don’t want it bad enough yet.

View from the cage

@love-missl

Cuckold Angst Club

Over the next few weeks we experimented with me wearing the cage one or two days at a time and I wore it over both weekends for several days. Lindsey was annoyed that I acted like one or two days was a long time so she began edging me at least 3-5 times before putting it on.

One of my first truly chastised experiences came in a club we went to one Friday. She was dressed to kill. Super short, dark purple dress made of a light material that barely hung down below her ass. She watched me edge for a full 30 minutes before making me wedge the steel cage on. She looked at me as she put the key around her neck and said, “No matter what, this stays on for the weekend.” She jiggled the cage and smiled as she turned around to put on her shoes.

We arrived at the club and I bought us a couple of drinks. I was nervous but obviously very aroused by what was happening. She continually looked around and would lock eyes with guys. The difference between her and most girls is that she doesn’t look away. She owns you with that look. Can make a man do anything she wants, trust me. She asked me to dance with her. I knew she was going to make this hell for me but I was dying to.

Of course the beat was pounding through our bodies probably causing permanent hearing loss. The floor was pretty packed but we found a little square in the middle that was open for us. She started out facing me and had her leg in between mine and immediately I realized how short her dress really was. I could see the black thong barely covering her pussy as her dress rode up just a few inches. The way this girl moves her hips... it’s like a hypnotist casting their spell over every guy in proximity. She had her arms around my neck and kept me close. I was immediately straining against the steel.

It was a song and a half before she turned around and started grinding on me. I tried not to double over as my cock strained against the center bar at the end of the cage. I felt it digging straight into the middle of my cock and I could feel the precum being forced around it in a painful spurt. She was grinding slow and my hands lifted her dress and I ran them over her perfect ass. I started to have a sinking realization that chastity might have been a bad decision.

We danced for probably 15 minutes and she leaned in and basically had to yell into my ear, “How’s that cage feeling??” I yelled back, surprisingly with a smile, “TIGHT!” She laughed, turned her ass around while looking at me over her shoulder (with that damn lip bite she does), and began watching as she pushed her ass out and rubbed it right on my crotch. We danced for several more minutes before I had to go to the bathroom. Really badly. I told her I had to go and she motioned toward my cage and said, “Are you going to the lady’s room?” and she winked at me (obviously talking about how I have to sit to pee, for you non-chastity people) as I left her there in the middle of the dance floor.

I got in the bathroom and one stall was taken up by some girl getting her brains fucked out. Of course I got to listen to that. My cock was still straining and after I cleaned the nasty toilet seat I sat down and could hear the clanging of my lock while trying to calm down enough so I could actually pee. The unbelievably sexy sounds of the wanna be porn star next to me didn’t help. It took several minutes for my dick to even get down to where I could move it to the side of the bar to be able to pee. Finally, it happened. Ol girl was still getting reamed as I tried to conceal my cage as best as I could and then washed my hands. As I walked back to the dance floor I didn’t see Lindsey where I’d left her.

It took me several minutes to find her through the crowd. Then I spotted a familiar, tan leg partially visible past a jacked guy probably 6’4”. I looped around the edge of the dance floor and saw the purple dress I came with backed into the body of this stud. His hands were all over her body. I watched as he groped her breasts and she melted into his body. She grabbed his jeans on either side of his hips and pulled him into her and she was grinding her ass against her cock. When I first saw her she had her eyes closed and was biting her lip. I froze and just watched. Then I felt my cock spring again right into the metal bars and start straining.

One hand made its way down her body and I saw it lift her dress slightly, showing the black thong that I knew was absolutely drenched at this point. His hand slid down and gripped her crotch and her mouth started hanging open. She opened her eyes and was on a different planet. She had more lust in her eyes than I had seen since Derrick fucked her in front of me. She looked dead at me. She almost gave a half smile and I bit my lip and gave her a “sexy” smile. She turned her head up quickly and grabbed behind his head and kissed him deeply. They made out for a minute while he still rubbed her pussy. I looked at her other hand and saw it gripping his cocky through his jeans. The outline of his tool was crazy intimidating.

She finally just turned around and started full-on making out with him in the middle of the dance floor. His hands grabbed her ass and pulled up her dress up exposing most of her ass for the world to see. I felt a shooting pain through my cock as it pulsed into the metal bars. I watched for another minute before a girl broke me out of my trance with an, “Uhhh... you ok?” I snapped out of it and looked over to see a pretty attractive girl with a killer body. I couldn’t even appreciate it because I was still so in awe of what I was watching my girlfriend do.

I smiled pretty awkwardly and said, “Yeah, I’m good. Haha.” She said, “Alright, then dance with me.” This girl looked at least part Latina, was almost as tall as I am, and had on a tight red dress. She pulled me slightly by shirt to get me out onto the dance floor with her. She actually stopped me from staring at my wife constantly. She was gorgeous. We started dancing innocently enough. Within a few minutes she turned around and was starting to come back into me. Her ass was absolutely mesmerizing. I looked over and saw Lindsey still in another world with her stud, now just dancing face to face super close.

If I wouldn’t have been in the cage or in a relationship this would’ve been an amazing time... but the steel of the cage made sure I couldn’t enjoy this. I saw the girl look back over her shoulder a couple of times down toward my crotch. I’m sure she was thrown off by what was happening down there. After about 6-7 minutes of grinding on my cage she turned around and leaned in and basically had to yell over the music, “WHAT IS THAT?” In a panic I said, “WHAT IS WHAT?” She looked at me for a second and then grabbed my crotch. It was really painful because she inadvertently hit one of my nuts that was super tight thanks to my straining.

Her fingers felt over the cage and she said, “That.” I felt my heart race and my face turn bright red and I said, “Its a cage.” She arches an eyebrow and said, “...WHY?” “My girlfriend thinks it’s kinky, she keeps it there.” Not missing much of a beat she asks, “Where is your girlfriend?” I glance over to Lindsey and this girl starts laughing and says, “Oh shit... Hahahaha... she’s enjoying herself. Well, I want to get layed tonight, so... have a good one.” She walked away and I was awkwardly standing there thinking about what could have been.

A few more minutes went by and I was back at the bar but still watching Lindsey and straining like crazy. She and her boy toy were talking to each other and then I saw her turn around and start looking around, presumably for me. She finally saw me and while holding his hand drug him over to me and I could smell the sweat coming off of her. A lot of it was most likely his, of course. She was so turned on, I could see it in how her mouth was partially hanging open. She walked right up to me and said, “I need your keys. Follow us out.”

I handed her my car keys she pulled him toward the exit. I started to stumble behind them not quite sure what she had in mind. I saw him look over her shoulder at me and say something to her. All I heard was, “Don’t worry about him.” We got to my car and she unlocked it and got in the backseat. He was getting in when she turned to me and said, “Don’t let anyone bother us.” There were a ton of bars in this area and a whollllllle lot of foot traffic. He looked at me with a bit of a smirk and plenty of confusion while he closed the door.

The back windows of my car are tinted pretty dark and I couldn’t see anything but I could hear her panting and doing slight moans. The car was barely moving at this point and I stood by the door while they went at it. I could hear him laughing and her giggles afterward. The car started rocking more and more and the humiliation grew as more guys and of course the beautiful women walking by laughed and knew exactly what was happening. They looked at me with a “what the fuck?” look followed by a laugh. A couple of guys said stupid shit like, “Get it!” and a couple of sorority girls gave a “Woo woo!” as they continued by.

It seemed like forever but was probably about fifteen minutes before I heard the moaning and screaming stop. After another minute I heard some laughter and then the door pop open. Out came a hand holding a condom filled with semen. “Take care of this for us, will you, Buddy? Don’t want to fuck up your car.” I didn’t want to grab it and I stood there for a second before I took it and walked to the nearby sidewalk to throw it away.

When he got out of the car he was still shirtless. I felt like a little boy standing there. He put his shirt on while Lindsey talked to him. She looked at me and said, “Get his number.” I took out my phone and he took it to put his number in it. He handed it back to me and said, “put myself in as Big Dick John.” Just so there’s no confusion. He turned to walk away and slapped me on the shoulder and said, “Hope to see you soon buddy.”

I looked back at Lindsey and saw the sweat and bodily fluids all over my cloth backseats. She looked like she’d just run a marathon. She leaned up and said, “Baby, take me home.” She climbed into the front seat and her boob was still hanging out of her dress where he’d been gripping it. “How’s that cage feeling now?” she quipped. “Like a prison.” She laughed and said, “Aww... poor little fella.” She rubbed the cage through my pants.

When we got home she had me strip and just wearing the cage. She had her dress on still and was so sweaty and sloppy when she crawled onto my face and started riding me. She rode me for several minutes and came hard twice because she was still so turned on. She got off and lied next to me. We were relaxing and talking about how crazy hot the night was. She had my balls in her hand. She then said, “Oh, and by the way, (she started squeezing them increasingly hard) if you ever grind on another girl again without my permission I’ll crush these and we won’t need the cage. Ok?”

I swallowed and squeaked out a “Yes, Ma’am.” I stirred for hours that night with my cage crushing my attempted erection. Welcome home, penis.

Slaps and Kisses

This is one of the rituals that we perform in private to ensure our relationship remains unequal. Sure, slapping a submissive across the face is nothing new, but with us, there is a deeper meaning to it.

I don’t need to slap him hard, as it’s not the physical pain that counts, rather it’s the feeling of power and control I get when slapping his face, and the humility it forces upon him. A gentle backhand with only the flick of my wrist is sufficient. If I am wearing my leather gloves, I will remove one and lightly slap him with it.

When I slap him, I am conveying the message “I own you and can do whatever I damn well please to you”, and for a few months, I actually said the words out loud to him each time to drive that meaning into him with repetition. Now when I slap him, I don’t say it anymore, but in his mind, he hears the message loud and clear.

After slapping him, I hold my hand out to him. His part of the ritual is to feel the humiliation from the slap, and submit. To show his submission, he kisses the hand that slapped him conveying the message “ Yes Ma'am, you own me and I surrender to your control”. When I said my part out loud, he answered me out loud.

When I first created this ritual, I would slap him at random a few times a day just to remind both of us our roles and places in this relationship. It worked great and have expanded on it since.

When we first started, he would take my hand in his while kissing it, but now I have him clasp his wrists behind his back and hold them there instead as it’s a much more submissive and vulnerable pose. He must maintain eye contact with me while kissing the hand that beats him.

Every so often, I may feel that I don’t see enough submission in his eyes and slap him again. If I slap him a second time, he has to get down and kiss my bare feet, or lick the patent leather ballet slippers I tend to wear around the house, as they are comfortable and perfect for licking.

I now use it to control his speech as well. If he says something I find offensive, or is just boring me with what he is saying, a quick backhand across the face shuts him up immediately and he kisses my hand and remains silent until I allow him to speak again.

So, in summation, the ritual is quick, efficient, and gets the point across. I feel powerful as he experiences humility which helps to maintain the inequality we both feel is important in our female-led relationship.