You may have mentioned it to me once or twice before, and I’d just assumed you were joking. I wasn’t going to wear a chastity device, after all. A little teasing here and there was fun- sometimes when we had sex you would whisper in my ear that I wasn’t “allowed” to cum, and after a while you would always “give in”- but why would I want to give up access to having orgasms, access to my penis, only allowed to touch myself at your discretion?

One night, after we’d been out for a few hours, I couldn’t wait to be alone with you. You looked achingly beautiful, and you’d been teasing me for most of the night. You knew how much I loved those long black stockings and heels, how I couldn’t stop looking.

As soon as we get back to your apartment, I try to kiss you- but you press your hand against my chest. “Not so fast”, you tell me, “I’ve got an idea.”

I assume you’ve got to use the bathroom, but I’m not prepared for the small object that you bring back with you.

“Of all the times to try that…you’ve been teasing me all night!”

“That’s why it’s the perfect time”, you say cheerfully, smiling, one of your long legs bouncing in front of me as you sit down on the couch and wink. "What's the point of putting you into chastity if you're not frustrated and horny, ideally because of me?" You have this sense of playful confidence, and it makes me feel slightly vulnerable for a second. Standing in front of you with my erection pressing against my pants doesn’t help matters, and I instinctively step back with one leg, hoping that makes it a little less obvious. But I know I have control here.

“(Your name here)”, I say, “there is no way you’re getting me to put that thing on, for any length of time. It’s just not going to happen.”