Spaceman My Extended Journey to Chastity

Everything looks good so far. Please keep going. Eddie

Firstly, thank you for the kind words. It was a big step to put this out there, but I felt it necessary. Knowing that people apparently enjoy reading it is very encouraging. So here comes the next part, somewhat abbreviated since several years are covered in just a few paragraphs, bringing me closer to today. Over time, she decided to add corporal punishment as an additional penalty for breaking rules, which she enjoys inflicting. The tricky part is that she creates new rules on the fly and only informs me when I break them. She has always maintained that she can do whatever she likes to me while I wear a cage (we have had a safe word since the beginning, though I’ve never used it), because putting on the cage transforms me into her slave. This includes nipple torture using clamps, clothes pegs, or most commonly, just fingers. Over time, my nipples have changed shape and grown in size. I also noticed they become more sensitive when caged. Every now and then—either because she feels like it or as punishment for worse transgressions—she enjoys whipping me with a riding crop. I wear the bruises proudly; any of these methods makes me swell up, making the cage feel even tighter. In fact, she loves announcing what she’s going to do beforehand, which is almost equally effective. In return, I have to play with her while caged and make her climax when I cannot. She also forces me to watch BDSM videos while tied up and caged as she teases me and brings herself off right in front of my face—an excruciatingly frustrating experience that I love. Later on, she told me she disliked the clear plastic models entirely, especially after one split (luckily without pain). So I suggested a metal version, which she agreed to help choose. Again opting for an affordable model, it was much shorter than the CB3000; in fact, I ended up being squashed into a 1¼-inch cage with enough room between the bars so she could touch and tease me through them. When aroused, my glans would swell out of the end. It also meant I could keep everything clean without removing it daily. She liked that much better, as did her teasing while wearing it, and even threatening me with it. Admittedly, I have always tended to push boundaries, but she simply says “caged, now” if I go too far. That was when WhatsApp messaging began. At work, I’d receive messages like “wear the cage when you get home,” “whip it up,” or “are you feeling cagey today?” There were also references to cages while out with friends or family—telling people I felt frustrated at work and confined. Every time she does this, it feels like an electric shock. She didn’t mind me wearing it to work but preferred that I knew it was waiting for me when I returned home. However, whenever I wore it, I had to remain subservient (failure to do so is punished according to severity) and keep it on continually until she told me otherwise, just not at the office—which mattered less as I started working from home several days a week. Occasionally, I mentioned stories of people wearing cages for extended periods (by then, the longest record was three weeks; I had only come once while caged). But she disliked the idea, saying it would make things too normal and boring. So I didn’t pursue that dream further, being content with what we had. Later came the agreement to buy a heavier steel cage (2 inches) in a birdcage design so she could punish me with that as well. And that’s how it went for several years: always a background threat that I could be instructed to wear the cage at any time, or told to fetch and whip from the wardrobe or whatever else she felt like doing depending on her mood. Sometimes for days she ignores my caged state and doesn’t touch me; other times she teases me all day. Most of the time, she orders me about, and I jump to her commands. I have no idea what changed exactly, but in early October ’23, she told me to get caged as usual—for two weeks this time. When I mentioned that the previous record was three weeks, her reply was simply, “Ok, we’ll beat that.” Being retired now meant there was no office distraction, so I wore it 24/7 (except for visits to distant family), but had to cage up immediately upon returning home. She then started adding days for rule-breaking (she still creates rules without telling me). October rolled into November, and then December. To add variety, she wrote punishments on folded pieces of paper; if I misbehaved, she told me to pick one out, and I suffered whatever was written. At that point, I made a major mistake, she got very angry, and ordered me to take it off and put it away since I wasn’t playing the game properly. In early January we talked about it again. I apologized and promised improvement. She told me to get caged but warned that things had to be better; this would become my status until the end of February. Well, that’s not quite what happened.