I knelt uncomfortably between the two women on the hardwood floor, while they drank their coffee, and talked about everything but me. I wanted to ask about the contract, but I remembered how easily I had lost this night’s orgasm (if they ever intended to let me cum at all ). And I remembered her quick blow to my (now her) balls, and wondered what other punishments she had devised. Finally, they turned their attention to me.

“I love the design of the belt,” said Blaise, reaching down to cradle my balls in her hand. “These to tease, and no cock to please.”

“Yes, I had it designed that way. It took months for the leather guy to deliver the goods, but he assures me it’s perfectly escape proof. I had to blow him of course.”

“Mmmm. A side benefit.”

“Yeah. He was twice the man David is. I had to keep convincing him to shorten the tube.” I couldn’t believe my ears. My wife, blowing some stranger, and having a female lover. It all seemed calculated to crush my spirit.

“But was he as big as Mike?”

“Honey, nobody’s as big as Mike. That’s why I had to take you with me on our last date.”

“I hope we’ll be seeing more of him now that you’re not a married woman. And we can sleep together whenever we want to now.”

“Well slave,” said Judith, “now can you see why your half-limp dick doesn’t have much appeal? There’s just so many better offers. But I couldn’t afford to just leave you. I had to find a way to control you. And this little key is it.”

She looked at my face as if reading my thoughts. “No locksmith is going to get you out of this one. Not all of you, anyway. There is only one key for this belt. And for a blowjob or two, our well hung craftsman gave me a special feature. If the belt is cut, or if the lock is picked, even if the key id turned in the wrong direction, a sharp metal spike will go right through your penis, trapping you in the tube forever. They would have to cut it off at the root to get you out.”

“Why?”

“I wanted complete control. I wanted your tongue service, your desperation to please me, I wanted it all. And I wanted more. To fuck who I choose, spend money as I choose, and mainly, to be with real men. Big men who can keep it up all night. And I wanted to teach you a lesson. That I am worth begging for, longing for wanting. “

“But…”

“No more questions,” she said. “It’s time for you to understand the nature of the contract you signed. It’s a training program for slavedom. The chastity belt is just a small sacrifice to remind you who you serve; a temporary solution. The permanent one will come at the end of the training.”

“I can hardly wait,” said Blaise

“Me either mistress.” I said.

“You poor man. “ said Blaise, ”Your cock’s actually kinda nice. I’d be careful what I wish for if I were you,” she said with a giggle.

“Just as I said,” Judith continued,” at the end of one year, you can leave if you want, or stay on to serve me and my girlfriends. In the mean time, I thought you might want to know what your life will be like.”

The contract was several pages, filled with leagalese, but the summary of it was clear. My sex belonged utterly and in every aspect to the woman who was now my mistress. For one thing, I was not to have intercourse with her for the period of one year, and was to sexually satisfy her every day without using my penis. It occurred to me that the contract began and ended on April Fools Day, but I quickly began to understand that the Program was no joke. I was not to work or leave home, and was to remain in chastity at all times outside of the mistresses presence. But the thing that really made it sink in was the orgasm schedule.

I was to give my mistress no less that three orgasms per day. This number remained unchanged throughout the year. I was also responsible for achieving my own orgasms, without help. No other hand or tongue or mouth would pleasure me for the year. And I would observe a strict schedule:

April: One cum per day.

May: One cum every two days

June: One cum each four days

July: One cum each eight days

August: One cum every sixteen days

September: One cum per month

October/November: One cum in two months.

December through March: No Orgasm

April 1st: The grand finale: Slave’s ultimate orgasm.

Chapter Four: Decent into Submission

So began my first year of slavedom, and my last year of manhood. The first couple of months were great, though I must admit, I cringed each time the lock was opened. Thankfully, Judith remembered to turn the key the right way (without letting me see which way that was) each time. She even fondled my balls , or rubbed her pussy in my face while I frantically pulled at my cock, shooting ropes of semen like never before. But she emphasized that she would never again touch my “pathetic penis.”

It seemed to interest her that this taunting made my orgasms more intense. She began to have other women over to help the taunting. On more than one occasion, I was bound into a chair and forced to watch as Blaise and Judith got it on, and to not look away under threat of punishment. The torture of my cock trying to swell to life in the confines of the tube, made this a unique punishment. I saw my wife do things I had always dreamed of. Making love with two beautiful women, with dildos, tongues and fingers busy. Watching her orgasm again and again.

“Ooh, don’t you wish you could feel this sweet pussy around your cock slave? Look how she opens up for my dildo.” Meanwhile I sat in the corner, balls heavy as lead, cock aching from staining against the confines of the belt, but never able to erect. Other nights, she would tie me spread eagled on the bed, and hover above me for an hour in a sixty-nine position, sucking, licking and fondling my balls until she was satisfied, and I was trembling with pent-up lust. By mid-August, when I had been 15 days since my last orgasm, I was slowly going insane.