My wife has been at home on a sabbatical for half a year. That’s a lot of togetherness when you also work from a home office. But it also made enforcing our contract much easier. Especially when my restraint from orgasms has usually been a matter of will power, or the honor system. Rebellion at least seemingly has different consequences when she’s right there, after all.
That will power is harder to muster when she’s not around, though, especially when I hit the seven-day or later mark of her denial. Maybe because of those ever-present “I could get away with it” thoughts, even if I know the guilt would get me later. Or maybe because when she is around during the day, there’s always the hope that she’ll grant permission, so the pressure lessens a bit.
The last few months, I could also—and have—text or call and ask for permission when she’s been out. Only once can I remember the answer being “yes,” but the possibility was there. And she was generally available to respond. And quickly.
This week, my wife went back to her own office. And the cage went back on.
For me, the Ghost 300 may not work 24/7 beyond two days or so, but it does work wonderfully for a day. Like yesterday. When she asked if I needed the cage to avoid “slipping up,” given that we’re well past the seven-day mark at the moment and that she’ll rarely be able to respond to a call or text with any kind of promptness now. So I was honest, and told her I needed it.
So the cage went on, right before she left for the day. And it didn’t come off until we both crawled into bed for the night, last night. Not that I even bothered to ask for permission, given the day I knew she would have on the morrow and the uninterrupted sleep that she would need. Admittedly, 30 minutes of unsatisfied erection later, I was reconsidering that decision. Not that I would have dared wake her up at that point.
And the cage went on this morning also, again right before she left.
The feeling is different this time compared to the others. I do still have that heightened sense of and focus on her, of course. Each hug or touch or even casual brush of an arm or a leg is a full body and mind experience, and damn near overwhelming. And waking up last night at 4 AM with her body against mine had me on the verge of tears, from love as much as frustration, as it has so many times before.
This time, though, I have no idea where the emergency key is. And know that I might not be able to get a quick answer if I need it. We’ve always been more RACK than SSC, but there is a bit of nerve-wracking reality to this now. And the much more powerful feeling that this really is “her” lock on the cage and “her” cage on me.
And sitting here, midway through the second day of this, I’m realizing just how much I’ve craved that feeling. Especially now. We’ve both wondered how the end of her sabbatical would affect this ever-changing dynamic our contract started. And the cage is a minute-by-minute reminder of the control I signed away to her, even if she isn’t actively exercising her authority.
Some part of me knew I would need that, as our schedules changed. Maybe even more than I needed the cage back on to avoid actually “slipping up.”
Part of me hopes this will be a permanent rule now, too, whenever she’s out of the house. Even if another part of me fears it. Because for the first time, I really have no way out of this cage, not unless and until she decides. Just like I always wanted.
Careful what you wish for, right?