Willing to Sacrifice

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“It’s called a penis gag. How do you like it?”

I stared at my wife with wide eyes. I had thought we were going to have a little fun, she had talked me into the four cuffs on our poster bed, my arms were pulled out to the sides, my legs were spread and fastened securely, and I felt like a butterfly pinned to a board. My upthrust penis, of course, would have been the pin.

“What’s that, dear?”

“Mmmmph!” I protested.

I was naked and my dick, in spite of my alarm, or maybe because of it, was pointing upward like a rocket about to take off.

“At first I was going to use a ball gag, but a dick gag goes further down the throat, makes your silly talking a bit more difficult. Mmm?”

I understood what she was talking about. I could feel the dicklet touching my tonsils, making it hard to swallow, making it hard to tighten the mouth, move the tongue, or do any of the things that resulted in speech.

She was stroking my penis. She had it all lathered with lube, it glistened, it throbbed, the rocket was ready to take off.

She stopped stroking. “Ah ah. None of that. We’re not going to have that messy cum all over the place.”


She leaned forward, one large and delectable breast grazing my face, one nipple touching my lips, and unfastened the devilish, dick device. “You wanted to ask me something?” Her eyes were wide and innocent, as if she really didn’t understand that she was driving my dick crazy, and that this…this torture, wasn’t what I wanted.

“What are you doing?” I rasped, gulping, trying to get my throat lubricated enough to speak in a normal tone of voice.

“I’m helping you.”

“But…I don’t want this kind of help. I thought we were going to make love…and then you…you…” I sputtered out, my mind defeated by the situation, by the concerned yet subtly mocking look in her eyes.

She grabbed my dick again, held its rigidity in her soft hands, rubbed it softly, touched her moist lips to the head, swirled the cap with her tongue, slipped her mouth over it and sucked it gently. My hips lurched and I felt the beginnings of the orgasm welling up in my balls, but when I began to thrust she removed her hands and mouth, stared down at my manhood sadly.

“Such a sad thing.”

Bewildered, I begged, “Please, finish me, let me come, for God’s sake…”

“Masturbation,” Ankara travesti she said. She looked me in the eyes, concern welling from her beautiful baby blues. “Masturbation is so sad.”

“But, I…you can’t…”

“Don’t fib now, I know what you’ve been doing.”

I blinked, stopped talking, wondered what the heck was going on.

“I’ve seen your computer. All those sites with women with big breasts, and they all swallow sperm, licking their lips and moaning while they do it.”

“But, I…Honey…I don’t know—”

She shushed my lips with a finger. I could smell lubricant on her finger, and the salty smell of my pre-cum. “To watch those site, all that naked, sweaty, thrusting…the sucking and the fucking…I know you jacked off.”


Well, of course, I had. What man wouldn’t?

“So I’m going to help you.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m going to help you not masturbate. I’m going to help you control your urges. After all, that’s my sperm you’ve been wasting. While I lay awake in bed, my pussy wet and twitching, wishing for my real man of a husband to come and lay waste to me, to assault my core with his battering ram, you’ve been wasting what is mine to harvest. Mine…and nobody else’s, including yours.”

“Honey, let’s be reasonable. Let me explain—”

She shushed me again with her wet finger, then, smiling, she stood up, reached down to her vagina and began fingering herself. Wide-eyed, I watched as she drove her digit in and out, circled the opening. Her juices glistened on the outside of her lips, and I knew she was moist and ready. Then she placed her finger under my nose and drew it slowly under my nostrils, wiped her moistness off on the flesh separating my nostrils.

“Do you like that smell? That taste?”

My dick was a ramrod, a lighthouse in the night of lust, a Roman column standing against the ages.

She leaned over to the side table and picked up a little spray bottle. I gulped and stared at her swinging breasts as they passed me by. She examined the spray bottle for a brief moment, then sprayed something on my penis. Instantly, I felt a sensation. But it wasn’t the sensation of throb and rocket, it was a numbing sensation.

“What are you doing?”

“Now, dear, do you remember when you caught Antalya travesti Jimmy drinking?”

“Yes.” What the fuck was she talking about our son for?

“What did you do?”

“I put a lock on the liquor cabinet.”

She smiled, and sprayed my dick again.

“But…why am I going numb down there? I can’t feel anything!”

She ignored my question. “I’d fuck you before you wilt, I really need that red monster splitting me apart, massaging my insides with want and desire, but I don’t want to get numb myself. So I’ll have to use this.”

She held up a large vibrator. It had ridges, a rotating head, and was downright scary looking.

“You can’t…honey, I never…you don’t…”

She sat back in a chair she had placed next to the head. She began massaging her large nipples and running the dildo up and down her wet slit. She sighed and moaned, and flicked the thing on.

BRRRR! It was an industrial model, with a big motor inside, and she pushed it hungrily into her snatch.

My jaw dropped. I had never seen my wife like this. My mind was blown…I truly couldn’t comprehend what was going on.

For a long minute she sawed the beast in and out, pulled on her nipples, licked her lips, and when the orgasm came her voice rose up in a shriek. Her hips twitched and jerked in helpless pleasure.

She turned it off and sagged back into the chair.

I laid on the bed, trapped, unable to even speak, rendered speechless by the lustful depravity she had shown.

She pulled it slowly out of her depths, moaning as the ridges massaged the rim of her hole. It fell out and she smiled, breathed deeply, then raised the beast to her lips and gave it a grateful blow job.

For a long minute she moaned slurped away at it. Finally, she pulled it out, aimed it at me and snapped it on. BRRRR! Then she turned it off and laughed contentedly.

“Honey, we have to talk…” I put on a show of reasonableness

“How’s your little dickie…yep, little. Numbing has that effect. You’re probably still horny as hell…and your dick has become a dicklet. That piece of massive meat that has pleasured me so much has shrunken down to a nub.”

At this point, I have to admit it, tears were coming out of my eyes.

She opened the drawer in the side table, retrieved something, then began İstanbul travesti working on my dick. I raised my head and could see…A CHASTITY TUBE!

“No!” I spoke, feeling as if it wasn’t really even my voice, understanding what she had been talking about when she had talked about our son getting drunk, about locking the temptation away from him.

She just hummed, pulled my balls through the ring, my balls which were as numb as my dick, which didn’t even feel itself being drawn through the metal circlet.

“No!” I spoke again, a little louder. “You can’t do this!”

She fitted the thing carefully, made sure it wasn’t pinching. “Do you remember what you did when Jimmy was caught driving without a license?”

“Yes,” came from somewhere that I wasn’t even sure was me.

“What did you do?”

“I put off his driving test when he was 16. I made him wait until he was 18.”

“It worked, didn’t it? Our son is sober…and a good driver, right?”

“Yes, but this…this isn’t the same thing!”

“So you are going to give up sex for two years, and do you know why?”

“Because…” I was chocking, gasping, trembling, “I masturbated.”

“That’s right,” and she clicked the lock.

“But I can’t! Sex is different! My body won’t be able to take it! Men have to cum, they have to release! If they don’t it can result in health issues!”

She smiled, glanced at the vibrator like it was an old friend. “That’s a unisex model. I understand that when you get horny enough you’ll beg for it, and we’ll be able to release all the cum we want. You’ve always enjoyed a good anal massage, yes?”

“But…but what about you?” I tried my last card. “You don’t want to give up the joys of real flesh for that…that…” I nodded at the vibrator, sitting on the side table, glistening and satisfied, and ready to be used again.

“I’m willing to sacrifice for you, my dear.” She reached for the vibrator, flicked it on and off and grinned again. “It will be hard,” she punned, “But I’ll do anything for you.”

I sputtered, searched for words, tried to form some sort of plan…but I was empty. I had been caught abusing myself, and now she was going to do the abusing. In an odd way…there was a thrill to the concept. But two years…?

“Besides,” she put the vibrator down and got onto the bed, “I’m sure you can do a little sacrificing for me, right?”

She crawled up the bed, straddled my face, settled her lips upon mine. I could taste the sweat, the lubrication, the desire, as her folds of wet flesh swallowed my mouth.

“Now, before I put that penis gag back in…”

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