My Birthday

My Birthday: A Reckoning

My birthday was approaching, and my wife, as always, asked the perennial question: "What do you wish for?" My mind immediately fixated on the one desire I dared not voice. Years prior, I had persuaded her to lock my cock in a chastity cage and become my keyholder. It was, to put it mildly, a disaster.

The core issue was a fundamental misunderstanding. My attempts to explain my fantasy fell short, and I pushed too hard, too fast. She became resentful, leading to countless arguments. Eventually, she told me to find an online Mistress and leave her out of it--a notion I quickly dismissed, knowing it would only further damage our already fragile intimacy. Due to medical reasons, our sex life was already infrequent; my misguided foray into chastity had brought it to a complete halt. I had, it seemed, achieved chastity the hard way, with no one to blame but myself.

Back to the present. I was in a foul mood. It had been a terrible week, and a potent cocktail of horniness and selfishness simmered within me. "I want to be locked up for a year," I blurted out, the words escaping before I could rein them in. "I want you to tease me, mock me, send me taunts at work when you cum, rub it in that I can't. I want to lick you to orgasm anytime you want, and leave me high and dry."

Oh, shit. Did I just say that out loud?

My wife's face mirrored the shock I felt. "I'm sorry, I..."

She held up a hand, silencing me. Her expression was a mask of hurt and anger. Taking a deep breath, she composed herself. "I'm going to visit Betty. I'll be home later. Do me a favor and make dinner. I won't be in the mood to cook."

"Honey, I'm sorry," I began, but she cut me off.

"We will talk over dinner." With that, she got up and left, leaving me feeling like the world's biggest asshole.

The afternoon crawled by. As I finally started preparing dinner, my phone buzzed.

"Betty and I are going out for drinks. You will be shaving and putting on your cage. Put the keys in an envelope next to my plate. Put today's date across the flap, and seal it. Have dinner ready."

That was it. My world spun. This was what I had begged for, but was she doing it out of anger? Did I even care? An instant hardness pulsed through me--something I'd need to address. My phone chirped again.

"DON'T TOUCH YOURSELF."

I generally keep myself hair-free down there for self-locking, though self-locking offers little enjoyment. So, getting clean and locked didn't take long, even with the need for a cold washcloth to encourage shrinkage. The text hadn't mentioned clothing, but I wasn't about to push my luck and quickly got dressed. Dinner was soon ready and waiting.

She didn't return for another two hours, but I remained calm. I was already on thin ice. When she finally walked in, a shopping bag in hand, she announced, "Dinner smells good. Pour me some wine and let's eat." She didn't seem angry, a good sign. I quickly poured her a drink and served the food.

We ate in silence for a while. I wasn't about to break it. Finally, she set her fork down. "I reacted badly earlier."

I started to speak, but she continued. "No, let me finish. When we tried this before, I was overwhelmed. I thought you didn't want me anymore. I was hurt and couldn't understand your fantasy." She paused, taking a sip of wine. "I didn't want to be a Mistress, to be in charge and spank you and all that stuff."

"I don't..."

"Please let me get my part out, then we will talk," she interjected. "I want to do this for you. I want to fulfill your fantasy." She paused again. I remained silent, refilling her wine.

"We will take this slow." She looked at me and smiled. "Well, slowly for you." She reached for the bag beside her chair, pulling out a box. From it, she produced a time-locked safe. "Did you play with yourself?" she asked as she opened the safe.

"I wanted to, but you said not to."

"Good," she replied, placing the envelope inside and closing the safe. A series of beeps later, it locked. She turned it to show me: it was counting down from 365 days. My stomach churned. This was real.

"Sorry, I had to get that done before I chickened out. But now the roller coaster has left the station, there's no going back, so let's talk."

"My birthday isn't for two weeks, shouldn't it be set for 379 days?" I said jokingly.

She took it in the ice breaker it was meant to be, not me pushing for more.

"It tops out at 365 days. But I can always add more time as we go. I just can't reduce it. Betty has the override code so I have no way to let you out," she said with a giggle. "We have much to discuss, but I want to cum now, so let's move to the couch and you can get your tongue to work while I explain how this will work."

As shocked as I was that Betty was involved, I didn't want to cause a problem, so I quickly complied.

She hiked up her skirt but left her panties on and sprawled out on the couch, leg over the armrest.

I started to take off my shirt.

"No need, the only useful part on you is your tongue for the next year, or more. Stay dressed."

I felt that one. My cage got really tight.

"Clean my panties first, they are really wet."

I got on my knees and went to work.

"I have been talking with Betty a lot about our situation," her hand found the back of my head and pushed it into her panties, keeping me from responding. "She is a dominant, did you know that?" I didn't, and couldn't answer.

"She told me I didn't have to do all the BDSM stuff; I could just make everything about me first for the next year. So that's where we will start." I tried to nod, she pulled me tighter. "I'm not ruling the Mistress thing out, I'm just making it all about me and my needs. Is that okay, pussy licker?" She let me nod this time. "Oh, that feels so good. Pull my panties down with your teeth. Why would you ever give this up? My mouth, my tongue, my lips going up and down your shaft. Why? I know it's your fantasy to go crazy with lust, but have you ever considered it might become my fantasy to never let you out again?" She started laughing.

With those words, I drove in deeper, and her laughing was cut off by a long gasp as she came.

Her hand left my head for a minute, and I started to back out.

"No! Get your tongue back to work, or you will spend the next half hour licking my ass."

I almost pulled back to see if she'd do it.

Then I heard something that made my cage the worst torture in the world.

My wife lit a cigarette.

I had always thought she looked extremely sexy smoking an all-white cigarette--a fetish she well knew.

Unfortunately, she quit when our daughter was born.

"I did say this year was all about me. You have a secret in your pants, so I decided I will have a secret as well. It's been 20 years since I last had a cigarette, and God, how I've missed them. Maybe I will someday let you watch me smoke, but for now, you will be buried in my pussy when I smoke. Just another thing you won't experience this year, pussy licker."

I responded by sucking her clit into my mouth and gently licking the tip.

She came again.

"It's going to be a great year. Happy birthday, my toy."