“Inspection Position!” my wife commanded, her voice sharp with that Domme energy I knew well. It was a signal to obey and a sign that my cock was stirring inside the cage. She could be both delightful and daunting in this state.
Since she’d kept me naked all evening, there was no need to strip quickly; I just had to assume the stance. I clasped my hands behind my head, elbows jutting straight out to the sides. My back stood as rigid as a rod, much like my caged cock would have been if it weren’t confined. I spread my feet wide, matching the width of my elbows, and lifted my chin to gaze forward.
It was the very pose I had demanded from her countless times before our chastity dynamic flipped. The only difference now was the steel cage tugging at my balls as it swayed between my legs. Looking into the full-length mirror, I saw myself exactly as she used to stand when we practiced “Position Training,” with her playing the part of slave. We both remembered those days clearly—a case of turnabout being fair play since she had become my keyholder.
She moved toward the drop-front secretary desk and bent down to open the bottom drawer, known as the Toy Drawer. She wasn’t clad in leather and boots but wore comfortable everyday attire that still looked stunning. Her outfit was a hybrid of sweatpants, pajama bottoms, and yoga pants. As I stared at her beautiful, bent-over backside, my cock strained against the cage bars.
Though she lacked the typical leather gear, when she rose, she held a black riding crop in hand. She tapped it lightly a few times while walking across the bedroom to where I stood. “Wider,” she said, smacking the inner sides of my thighs with the crop. I spread my feet out another couple of inches. Normally standing about four inches taller than her, my wide stance made me look up at her instead.
“For Inspection Position, your legs need to be wider apart than your elbows. Just like this. Understood?”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” I replied.
She scrutinized my arms critically. “Farther back.” I pulled my shoulder blades together, opening my chest and arms even more. I felt exposed, spread wide, and acutely aware of being naked while she held that crop.
Smiling, she looked down and touched the flat side of the crop to my balls, which were gathered tightly by the cage. With a light flick, she struck them. I let out a small gasp. The hit wasn’t hard, but it felt wonderful.
Three more quick strikes made me moan.
She tapped the top of the cage and ran the crop up my stomach and chest before resting it against my lips. “Kiss it,” she ordered.
I did so.
Immediately, she stepped aside and swung the crop hard against my right cheek. The surprise caused me to gasp and jump.
“Hold the position,” she commanded, stepping back in front of me. “No flinching, remember?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.” I remembered. I had expected her to maintain her stance even if I were spanking or pleasuring her; I’d once insisted she stay put while having an orgasm—a scenario I doubted would happen often.
She knelt before me and held her palm up between my legs at knee height. “Down,” she directed.
I knew what was expected, as it mirrored the punishment for failing position training: making her do a power squat. Back then, I’d hold my hand between her legs while she squatted until her pussy touched my palm, staying there until I slapped her and said “up.” She would remain in that deep squat until her legs burned and shook.
Now, I squatted down until my balls settled into her hand. She closed it around them, squeezing hard—uncomfortably but wonderfully so. My hands remained behind my head as my cock strained against its cage bars. My legs began to tire faster than I liked. My wife noticed. “You’ve been skipping leg day, haven’t you?” she said with a smile. “Well, I know how to fix that.”
My legs burned and started trembling slightly. She released her grip on my balls just long enough to swat them rather hard. “Up!”
I stood up, grateful for the relief from the demanding pose, though it was brief. “Down!” she said seconds later. “I’m not going to kneel down here for just one squat, mister. You’re going to have to do a few more.”
Sinking back down until I felt her hand on my balls again, she squeezed them and pulled downward this time. “A little lower, slave.”
I lowered further, my bottom dipping below my knees as the burn returned. Soon they began to shake, but her firm grip kept me from standing up to relieve the tension. She held me there for what felt like an eternity while I breathed deeply through the pain. Finally, with a release and another slap to my balls, I stood.
I ensured I returned to perfect Inspection Position: shoulders pinched back, elbows extended far behind. Open. Still kneeling, she was close enough that her face hovered near my caged cock. She reached out, grasping it roughly, turning and twisting it to inspect every angle. “Everything looks good, no irritation or swelling. Well, there is some swelling—an attempt at an erection anyway. I do enjoy seeing your cock try so hard for me. I keep you locked in this small cage with limited erections, but I still expect the effort, a sign of how turned on you are by me.”
I was indeed incredibly aroused. Standing in that pose, I couldn’t help but recall how fantastic she looked: naked, spread wide, my hands exploring her everywhere during our training. “Down!”
She made me perform two more power squats. On the last one, instead of slapping my balls when saying “Up,” she kept hold and stood up herself, pulling me out of the squat by my testicles. My legs were such jelly I likely needed the help.
Letting go, she stepped back. “Now, remember to hold it and no flinching.” “Yes, Your Majesty.” “I mean it. I’m going to work your balls over with this riding crop, and I want you standing perfectly still while I do. Show me you have control.”
“Yes, Your…” I began, but the first stroke landed on my balls before I could finish. It wasn’t her hardest strike yet, but it was close.
”…Majesty,” I whispered, as the crop had knocked the wind out of me.
Every stroke made my cock throb harder within the cage. Yet I held the position and stared straight ahead. After ten strokes, pre-cum poured from my tip. Though looking down would break my form, I felt it flowing through the shaft. She tapped the end of the cage with her crop. “My, you are producing tonight,” she noted. “I must be doing this right.”
“You are, Your Highness,” I replied. “Very much so.”
She brought the crop back to my face; it was coated in pre-cum. “Kiss it again,” she said, pressing it against my lips.
I kissed it and tasted the fluid. “Wait Position!”
Keeping my legs spread as they were, I swept my arms down and behind my back, attempting to grasp each elbow with the opposite hand. Not quite flexible enough for that perfect pose, I ended up holding onto my forearms instead. “Hmmm,” she mused, walking around behind me. “Is that how far you can go? Well, it will have to do.”
She walked back to the desk, bent over again, and stood up this time holding a larger dildo I had ordered previously. She paused, looked at it with a frown, then bent down once more, swapping it for one she’d made me deep-throat before. “I think we’d better start with the old one first to warm you”
“up before trying to get the new monster down your throat.” She approached me at a slow pace, adding a sly sway to her walk and a mischievous grin. I remained still as she reached me, grabbing my hair and tilting my head back. “Open,” she ordered, so I parted my lips. The dildo entered. It hadn’t gone all the way yet, not quite reaching deep into my throat. “Lather it up.” I started using my tongue to coat the fake cock, gathering as much saliva for lubrication as possible. “Okay, down it goes,” she announced after a moment and thrusted it deeper into my throat. I gagged briefly before it slid further down, allowing me to feel its base and her fingers against my lips. It took a few seconds to get used to the sensation, but then I was breathing – noisily, like an air pump running low on moisture – around the dildo. She kept it held there for quite some time, letting me gag and make choking sounds, before pulling it back up. “Good boy, glad you remembered how,” she said. She released my hair. I returned my head to its normal position and watched her walk back toward the desk. “Because today is a leveling-up day for you.” She bent down and rose with a black ring gag in hand. Holding it up, she showed me that the dildo passed through easily. “Your throat is soooo wrecked,” she said, coming closer to me again. She buckled the gag tight, then swiftly rammed the dildo home through the opening. “Interesting predicament you’re in, isn’t it?” The only response I could manage was a “gurrrk-urk.” “And here comes the gusher of pre-cum once more,” she said with laughter. She withdrew the dildo from my throat and held it just below eye level for a moment. When she lifted it back up, I noticed she had been holding it beneath my cage, allowing my pre-cum to coat it completely. It was slick with fluid. And right away, she slid it back down my throat, pre-cum included. She laughed as she moved it in and out. Her pace was hard and fast, soon leaving me a mess of slobber dripping over my chin while my eyes watered. She pushed the dildo all the way in and commanded, “Kneel.” Down to my knees I went, suddenly realizing how tired my legs were becoming from holding that wide stance. I knelt and clasped my hands behind my back. She pulled the dildo out again and slapped me a couple of times with it. Then she set it aside, stepped back, and lowered her sweatpants. Her underwear followed suit, revealing her beautiful pussy and the dark landing strip of pubic hair above it. She was very wet. Grinning, she picked up the dildo once more. Bringing the tip to her pussy, she spread her legs and slowly guided the fake cock inside herself. She gasped and grunted a few times before it was fully inserted. “Oh, this thing is too big,” she said, obvious discomfort evident in her voice as she slowly and carefully fucked herself with it. “Now I remember why we got the smaller one.” After a few more strokes, she pulled it out with a sigh of relief. “But it’s not too big for your throat, is it, Honey?” she said laughing as she stood up. Holding the dildo against her pubic mound like she was wearing a harness, she shoved it through the ring gag and all the way down my throat again. I could taste her. Her pussy juices were now coating my throat, filling my mouth with her scent and flavor. She began rocking back and forth, fucking my throat. “I definitely like chastity,” she said. “I don’t think we could have done this without the headspace it puts both of us in.” She continued thrusting. I wanted to agree with her, letting her know how much I loved that she was taking keyholding seriously and allowing her inner Domme to shine. I wanted to tell her how much I enjoyed being locked up at her mercy, especially when she showed none. I wanted to tell her how much I loved her, and many other things, but I couldn’t say anything because she was throatfucking me with a 7 inch dildo. My cock was throbbing; I could feel it twitching and moving the heavy cage around helplessly in the air. I felt an orgasm building this time, but when I tried to warn her again, I still couldn’t speak because she was throatfucking me. I’m not even sure if the groan I made as I came inside my cage sounded any different than the gasping and choking noises I was making around the dildo. I hoped I wouldn’t be in trouble when she noticed. At least not too much trouble anyway.