Female led relationships discussion

I spent the Labor Day weekend of 2008 locked in the cage. We had talked it over and decided I needed to experience what it was like firsthand. So, from Friday evening until Tuesday night of the next week, I kept it on. She never brought up the device even though I made attempts to let her know I was feeling lusty. Her main worry was just whether or not I was hurting. Once I convinced her that no pain was involved, she left me be for the rest of the weekend. It wasn’t eventful and felt a bit dull.

Then came two weeks later.

I had put on the cage that Friday morning and casually assumed our trial would end by Monday since we’d be spending the whole weekend together and I wouldn’t need it. But as soon as she walked through the door, we headed to the bedroom and I dropped my trousers. “Take it off,” I said with a tone perhaps too commanding for her liking. She slung her purse back over her shoulder, grabbed her car keys, and spent the weekend at her sister’s place. When she arrived there, she called me up and declared, “Don’t ever do that again. It’s my call to decide when it comes off, not yours. I’ll see you Monday after work.” She added a warning: “If you call me, I’ll make you wear this thing every weekend from now on, so don’t bother calling.”

The next three days served as an omen of things ahead—and I didn’t dare to call. Call it fate or coincidence, but my anatomy fits perfectly into that cursed cage. I attempted to remove it myself, but couldn’t manage it. It only heightened the anxiety I was already feeling. I wanted out and needed a release, yet neither seemed possible.

When she returned home? She didn’t mention the cage at all, and I ended up wearing it through the subsequent weekend as well. However, her demeanor shifted. She became more affectionate, and I found myself performing oral service for her three times during that week. She never once addressed my “issue” directly. Even worse? She is just under six feet tall, so with heels on, she towers over me. Five-inch spikes. Mmmm. Then came the foot massages; I gave them to her even when she wore regular shoes to work.

I stayed in that damned cage for two weeks straight. When she finally removed it, she said quite bluntly, “Don’t ever do that again. I will decide when it comes off. Understood?”

Well, she had already enjoyed several orgasms while I was lagging behind. My lesson learned: if I don’t watch myself around her, I’ll fall even further back in the hierarchy. She began expecting me to handle household chores and take her out for dinner more frequently. One time when I failed to compliment her outfit, I spent another week confined.

Well, this has dragged on longer than intended, so I’ll wrap it up here. And yes, Tee? You are the most incredibly beautiful woman I have ever seen. As I write this, I am still wearing the cage.