It’s late. I should be asleep.
Last night, I forgot to make Belle’s coffee so this morning she had to wait for it. I got up as soon as she told me, but still, she didn’t get her first cup until after her shower. Tonight, she told me I would be punished.
After the kids were down and out, she told me to take my clothes off like she does every night. I got up, stripped, and started to get back in when she stopped me. I hadn’t asked permission. Then, she showed me the tube of Icy Hot. I immediately started to whimper and whine. I told her how sorry I was for forgetting the coffee, that tomorrow’s was already set up, that I wouldn’t forget again. Didn’t matter. She already had a dollop of white paste on her fingertips.
I knelt on the bed and she reached under me. I felt her smear the greasy, cold lineament across my scrotum, stretched firm by the stainless steel chastity device. She laid back and opened her arms, inviting me in. I placed my head against her chest, still waiting for the first blast of heat. Once it hit, setting my balls on fire, I started to pull away but she held me close to her, face smothered in her breasts. I moaned, panted, and writhed the best I could, but she held me tight. One wave of fire would subside to be replaced by another, each time she held me firm and unable to move. Eventually, the waves of pain started to recede more quickly and crest a little lower each time, though the effects of the Icy Hot continued to linger.
She let me go, and I got back on my knees, legs spread, face to the mattress, letting my tender balls hang in the cool air. I cradled them and probed them with my fingers. Poor little things. It wasn’t their fault I forgot to make the coffee.
“Where’s Pink?” she asked.
“In my drawer,” I said, “but I’m afraid to use it on you. I have Icy Hot on my hands…”
“Get her out.”
I reached into my drawer and handled the little pink vibe as lightly as possible. “Give it to me,” she said, holding out her right hand. She had used her left to apply the Icy Hot.
The vibe disappeared with her hand under the covers and I heard the low thrum of the vibe’s motor kick in. I moaned some more. It had been days since Belle allowed me to pleasure her and I felt the need badly, especially after my punishment. I put my mouth on her shirt over her nipple.
“Did you ask?” she said sharply.
I retreated, still on my knees, sore sack suspended, and pressed my ear against her so I could hear the vibe better. The sound of its thrumming rose and fell as it slid in an out of her. I could see it in my mind, wet with her juices, parting her full, pink labia, pressing against her clit. I wanted to feel it myself so badly, to press my mouth against her, to lick her soft folds.
“Please, can I do something?” I asked. She said nothing. Her head was back, jaw sharply defined in the candlelight, lips parted. She ignored me.
The rise and fall of the vibe’s motor increased its rhythm and Belle’s hips started to gyrate next to me. I closed my eyes and imagined how it would all feel under my hand, vibrations running up my wet fingers, her nipples hard in my mouth. The stainless tube was now filled and the tightness of the meat caused the Icy Hot to flare back to life. My crotch was on fire as she came quietly.
After a few moments of basking, she wordlessly handed me the warm vibrator. I replaced it in my drawer and she turned over, already half asleep.
And that’s why I’m here now, writing it all down for you.