He’d stopped by on his way to the office so that I could lock him into his chastity cage until our session the next day, roughly 24 hours later. For the past two days he’d been on voluntary chastity. No masturbation. No touching. No orgasms.

“One of these days I’d like to wear this longer,” he said. “Maybe we could spend a few days at my beach house down south.”

“I wonder what it’d be like to work down there?”

“I think there’d be a lot of business for you. Southern men are probably pretty kinky. I mean, you’ve read Faulkner, right? “

****

Later he emailed me: “I’ve never worn this with the points of intrigue before. Nasty.”

I love my life.

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