Denial Ch. 01
by Conquered ©

I don't believe that there's a man reading this who has been symbolically castrated as thoroughly as I. What began as virtually a sexless marriage for my wife and I, has remained a sexless marriage, but changed drastically in nature. In effect, my wife took a passive withholding of sex and turned it into an active withholding with female domination as the weapon. She is perfect proof that a dominatrix does not have to be born one. She can surely become one.

Maxine and I are both 37, she is a teacher, and I am a freelance financial consultant. I am 6'2" tall, and she is 5'4". We are now both slender and fit. She has long and full light brown hair. We are homeowners, and together earn a nice living. Our neighbors like us, we are close with our families, and together and separately, we have some good friends.

I met Maxine in high school, and we dated through college, after which we got married. We were both virgins when we met. Maxine is the All-American girl next door. She has a lovely, warm almost shy smile, perfect teeth, is squeaky clean and well pressed. Until the last few years, she was slightly overweight. The one word everyone had for her was "lovable." Maxine grew up being the girl whose friend always got married. She was the perennial bridesmaid type.

We love each other, but she had never really enjoyed sex. She never liked oral or anal sex either, and only reluctantly sucked me as a short preparation to entering her. She hated the feel and taste of my semen. For herself, she only enjoyed manual stimulation of her clitoris, and put up with intercourse with me. I don't want to paint the picture of a prude, or someone who found sex dirty. Sex, as I found out, just didn't play an important role in her life.

Despite all of this, we loved each other very much. We are very warm to each other, and enjoy life. But gradually, because sex was such a stumbling block, I began to withdraw into a sexual fantasy world based on masturbation, which was often my only sexual release for weeks at a time. We made love less than a dozen times during our second year of marriage, and it didn't change much over the years.

Something allowed me to put up with this. Perhaps it was a subconscious living out of the s&m literature which I was inceasingly drawn to. I found out through therapy later, that I was blaming myself for our lack of sex, and fantasizing that she should punish me for our poor sex life. This was all subconscious. In the third year of marriage (1977), I finally acted on this fantasy. I had to do something.

One night, I tried to convince Maxine to make love to me. She was not in the mood, so on an impulse, I handed her my belt, got on my hands and knees, and asked her to hit me a few times on the ass. She looked at me curiously, but playfully, she began hitting me. When she saw that I was turned on, she reached under and began to play with my penis. After a few more hits, and some firm hand strokes, I came in her hand. She wiped it in my hair, and made me clean her fingers with my mouth. She giggled embarrassingly and said, "You're a sicko."

I sensed, however, that she was very relieved that we didn't have to have sexual intercourse. The episode had no negative effects on our marriage.

The next few years saw much of the same pattern continuing. I started a collection of s&m toys, which included nipple clamps, seven gates of hell, a small cat o'nine tails, a riding crop. The scenerio every time when I brought these home were always the same.

"What in the world is this?!" Maxine would look at the item like it was a dead rat, expressing distaste. She would then give me a cold look letting me know what she thought of me for buying it. "Well, what do you want me to do with it?"

We would always try the item, and while she was either hitting my ass with the crop, or yanking on the nipple clamps, I would masturbate to orgasm. Everytime, just at the point that I was coming, she would always begin her lecture. "You're sick, you know. I can't believe that this pain and degradation excites you." Afterward, on the rare instances when she was sexually excited, I would use my fingers to give her an orgasm.

Whenever I asked her if her sex drive and attitude toward conventional sex would improve if we stopped with the s&m scenarios, she said that they might. But again, the pattern became the same. We would give conventional sex a try with absolutely no success, and we would be back to the s&m substitute for me. She indulged me, but made no bones about it that even though she was denying me any sexual release except s&m, she found it mildly repelling.

This pattern continued, with us having an s&m session maybe once a month, then battle over sex maybe once every three months. She remained uninvolved through it all, and never initiated these sessions. I always had to ask for them. I spent the first ten years of my marriage geting rejected for sexual contact about 9 out of 10 times. As I noted, this could be seen as a very effective, if passive, castration.

Things got worse. Maxine was tired from gaining much weight and often for more than two months in a row, I was sexually ignored. I would masturbate nightly.

In 1981 I couldn't stand it any more, and had an affair. I needed some attention and validation of my existance and sexuality. The affair was a conventional one, with wonderful sex and was very intense. I even briefly considering leaving Maxine for this woman. But as she lived in England, it became impossible to continue. But it served its purpose. I knew what I DIDN'T want: I didn't want to be ignored sexually anymore.

After a few weeks of thinking about it, I told Maxine not about the affair, but about my not wanting to be sexually ignored. I told her that I thought we should go into marital therapy. She exploded. She was vehemently against any kind of therapy. "I don't need a therapist to tell me what to do, and that I have to change my life. We can settle our own problems," she said. I said that something had to be done, that I felt like a subhuman the way she just ignored my sexuality.

We began talking realistically about our expectations. I enjoyed intercourse and all forms of conventional sex, but when not available, I could accept s&m as a substitute. She disliked intercourse and oral sex, but could accept s&m as a substitute.

I asked her if we should stop totally with conventional intercourse, (if she wanted to fuck, she would initiate it) but for my release, we would stick to s&m. She said it was okay with her, but how did I feel. I agreed to do it for a while.

Things improved for a while, with us having a weekly s&m session, after which, if she was hot, I would finger her to orgasm. With the pressure of intercourse off her, more often than before, when she was torturing me, she got hot, and I would have to masturbate her.

But in a few months, things began to slip again, and soon we were back to the once monthly session. For four years, we had no intercourse, and only about two dozen s&m sessions. I would almost have to beg her to do them. She never initiated.

When Maxine's school term was over in June of 1985, I packed a suitcase, made a reservation at a local motel, and told her I was leaving. She was in shock, but understood why. She told me she loved me, begged me to stay, and said that we should talk. I told her that "talk was just talk," and that it was obvious that she didn't care about me or my sexual fulfillment.

She finally got me to sit down and we talked again. It boiled down to the fact that while s&m was a good substitute for conventional sex, if I had to initiate every session, and she was so uninvolved, and if she were too tired, then the only option I had was to go into the bathroom and masturbate. I felt ignored. (I secretly turned on my tape recorder for this conversation, so the words are verbatim. She had a habit of denying things that she said, and I wanted this on the record for us.)

It was then that she came up with an idea. "Honey, you are unsatisfied that I don't take an active enough part in your sex life. It's hard for me to do anything when I'm asleep, or tired or when I don't want to. But what is the one hardest part of the whole thing for you?"

"You ignoring me."

"You wanted me to be your dominant mistress, right? Well, why can't you look at it that I was ignoring you sexually on purpose. And in my role, I was still allowing you to masturbate. Why can't you look on this as kind of a fantasy punishment. As part of the game?" she said.

"You know damn well, Maxine, that you ignoring me was at best out of laziness, and at worst, out of just not caring. I really feel that you just don't care, one way or the other."

Maxine lit a cigarette, and thought for a moment. "Sweetheart, my sex drive is less than yours, and always will be. We have to face it. And using the s&m equipment takes too much energy out of me when I'm tired. I don't really mind when you masturbate. It's just that it takes you so long, and I like you beside me in bed so I could hold you. I mean, imagine all of the extra work on your career you could do if you just cut down on masturbating."

I shook my head. She didn't understand. "It's not really the masturbation, I need. I need the validation and attention that I have a penis and a sex life. And intercourse is positive sexual validation." I nodded.

She thought again. "But with those s&m devices, you're getting positive attention and negative validation. And that turns you on?"

"It could. At least it's some kind of sexual attention." I answered.

"What turns you on about it, honey?"

"I don't know. I guess I'm guilty about certain things, and I'm trying to pay for it."

"So you feel that you should be paying a price for your orgasm, and the price is pain and humiliation."

"I guess."

She took a drag on her cigarette, and toyed with it in the ashtray. A lightbulb seemed to be going off in her head. "So, with you, you need validation and attention to your penis and sexlife. You need to know your penis is there, and that I know it's there. And that I make you pay the price. And you can get your validation either positive or negative, right? I mean either intercourse or s&m gets you off, right?"

I didn't know if she was on to something, or not. She just smoked, and thought. Then she spoke "I love you honey, and I really want to keep you. Sex is too small of a topic to lose someone over. I consider it unimportant either way. But what we have is that you need some kind of sexual validation, either positive or negative. Right?"

"Yes" I answered.

Maxine sat back, and concentrated. "Now my role can either be active or passive."

I lost her, and she explained. "What would active positive sexual validation be?"

"Uh, active? Intercourse or oral sex, I guess." I answered.

"Right!" she replied. "Which, as I stated, is very hard for me to do because besides not enjoying them, I'm very tired evenings. I'm also very tired evenings for active negative sexual validation."

"S&M?" I supplied the answer.

"Exactly!" she confirmed, just like the school teacher she was. "That leaves two: passive, positive sexual validation, that is, validation of your sexuality which you get without my active participation. Your solo masturbation comes in here. You say that this is empty?"

I sighed, which was my answer. Maxine leaned back again, and lit another cigarette.

"That leaves passive, negative sexual validation. I don't know how you'll react to this." She gently guided my head into her lap, and stroked my hair as we spoke. "This is a really radical idea."

All I saw above me was the glow of her cigarette, and her head silhouetted against the curtains behind the couch. I'll always remember this image and the words that followed, because they changed my life. "What are you thinking about?" I asked.

"You admit that you are turned on by the idea of me being a really cruel bitch. You get off when I become sadistic?"

I nodded, and she stroked my head.

She spoke, "Well, if intercourse is not satisfactory to me, and your own masturbation is not pleasurable to you, and if s&m sessions are just as tiring as intercourse for me, there is really only one option left. passive, negative sexual validation."

She drew on her cigarette, and let out the smoke slowly as she let the idea sink in to me.

"I still don't understand." I said.

She explained. "It's simple, sweetheart. While positive, passive sexual activity is masturbation, this is unacceptable to you. But negative, passive sexual activity is denial of masturbation."

"You mean to actively deny someone the opportunity to masturbate is negative, passive sexual activity?"

She nodded. "That's right. Look at it this way. What if I were really the cruel bitch you fantasize about. I certainly wouldn't let you masturbate whenever you felt like it. I would restrict you according to my own ideas on when you should be allowed to have a climax. With such negative-passive sex, the person being controlled would only be permitted to masturbate if his partner took a positive act to allow it."

I let it sink in, while Maxine waited and smoked. Certain times in every sexual relationship are marked by times when both partners are totally in sync, and feel the same rush at the same time. This was one such time. I could feel the heat coming from Maxine's lap, and the way she breathed deeply and drew on her cigarette gave me the clue that she was very much into this.

"Would you find it exciting if I actually controlled your penis and your erections, and denied you sexual relief except when I wanted you to have it? Would you stop feeling ignored and unvalidated?" She inquired.

"I don't know." I answered. But Maxine knew the answer.

"I think you'd find it very exciting not knowing when your next orgasm would be. And, if I felt like being particularly cruel to you, or if I were angry at you and wanted to really punish you, I could forbid you any sexual relief for as long as I saw fit." Maxine took a long pull on her cigarette, and smiled mischeviously. "Well? What if that's what I decided? Does that turn you on?"

"How often would the Mistress allow me sexual relief?" I smiled and played along.

Maxine suddenly got very quiet. "This wouldn't be a game, honey. It would be a lifestyle. By having me in control of your orgasm, you would be receiving the validation -- negative as it is -- that you apparently need for your sexual fulfillment. By having control over your own sexual desires, you haven't been satisfied, so we'll try this. I will take this very seriously. And the way I look at it, you need to serve me in this way because you see me as being superior to you. And you are handing over to a higher being the control over one of your most basic urges, your orgasm."

"But I do need sexual relief." I implored.

She nodded her head, "I know you do, darling. But what we're talking about here will give me the control over when and how often. It would be up to me how much erotic tension and pressure I apply to the situation. I'd want to learn just how I can pull the strings on your sex drive. I may wind up ignoring you, as I have in the past. But even by ignoring you, I would be actively controlling your sex life by denying you relief." She reached over and felt my hardening penis. "You really find this idea hot, don't you?"

"How would you know I was keeping my word, and not jerking off behind your back." I asked as Maxine kept massaging my full erection.

"I'd enforce it with some kind of punishment." She answered, and took a drag on her cigarette. "Well, I wouldn't even give you the power to disobey. It would be too tempting for it to work without some enforcement. I would have to make it virtually impossible for you to get any kind of release without permission. We'd need some kind of practical device." She then asked me if I had ever seen a device, something like a male chastity belt which would allow me to urinate and wash, that she could lock on for as long as she wanted it to be on, and would make an erection impossible. I said I would look around.

"We can start this next time. Tonight, I want to get some sleep."

And with that, Maxine rose from the couch, and walked up to the bedroom.

The next day, I stopped into a sex shop and bought the cock cage. That night when I brought it home from work, she asked me to demonstrate it. It was a tubular device with small metal bars for a soft penis to fit into, and leather straps to wrap around the balls to hold the device on. An erection was impossible and very painful with the device on. It could be "locked" by placing a tiny padlock through one of the holes in the leather strap.

Maxine asked me to wear the device under my clothing for the next day, unlocked, to see how it felt. That evening, she wanted me to try and masturbate, but the metal and leather device made an erection very painful. She then bent over me and began licking me through the metal bars of the device to get me hot, and the same result. The restricted erection hurt badly, and I had to fight it back to keep the pain away.

She led me over to the bed, and had me adjust my chastity harness tightly, but livably. She emptied the box it came in and found the tiny lock which fit the cage. She placed it through one of the holes in the leather strap that held the cage in place. She left the lock unlocked. "I see you can take this device off anytime you wish. In case of a medical emergency, all you have to do is cut this leather strap, and the lock comes right off too. And if you ever really want to take it off yourself, a simple scissors will do the trick. But I don't think that's what you actually want. I hope you can accept that I will be totally controlling your sexlife."

Maxine reached up and held my face in two hands, not tenderly, but like a child to whom she wanted to make a strong point. "This is very much like a castration. Can you come to terms with that?"

She looked at me with a slight smile, and I began to tear. Why was she being so cruel? She had reached down into my guts, twisted, and pulled them right out. And all with gentle words. I wondered if the basis for our sexual relationship over the last 10 years was centered on this, and whether by symbolically castrating me like this was part of her psychological need, a plan which began with her denying me intercourse and sexual contact. I saw she was getting hot just talking about this. She kissed away my tears, and held my head as she spoke. Her voice changed, and became authoritative and hard."

"The new rule is, this is my cock now and only?_ decide when this device is removed. If you ask me, it automatically stays on. If you hint that I should let you take it off, it automatically stays on. If you even seem like you're going to hint, it stays on. I hope you understand that this means that you will never again be able to just go off and masturbate like you did every night. I hold the key."

She stroked my penis, and it began to hurt again. She stopped when the pain was getting too extreme. "If at anytime, you decide you don't want this on, just take it off. But there's a penalty. You're never again to annoy me about our sex life, and I'll ignore you more than ever. I promise you that. So you have to decide: Is masturbating once or twice a day a better sex life that having my full attention to your denial 24-hours a day? Is having your penis locked away until I decide to let you have an erection and an orgasm the way you want to live your life from now on?"

"I don't know." I replied.

"Yes or no?"

I paused. "Yes"

"This is about as cruel a thing as I can ever imagine doing to a man in the prime of his sexual life. I love you very much, and if this total control over your orgasm and sex life will give us some peace, and settle the only real issue we fight over, then I can certainly stand depriving you in this way. After all, this may actually give me some relaxation."


"How often will you allow me to masturbate." I asked.

"Whenever I think of it, not you."

I thought about the idea of denial, and realized that a few days or a week without masturbating might actually highten my orgasm when I do have one. I began to get hard.

Maxine saw my excitement and smiled " Remember, the thought of allowing you any sexual relief at all has to be my idea. And when the device does come off, I'll decide how you get relief."

She pulled me to her, and stroked my restricted penis again getting me hard.

"I don't know how I'll react if it becomes a reality." I answered honestly. I was a bit scared over the power Maxine now had.

"I think you'll react fine. This is something you need deep down. Since I love you, I want you to have what you really need. So, do we try it?" She had her hand poised on the lock, waiting for the go-ahead from me to lock it. I thought for a second, and realized that I was very excited and a little afraid. She was probably right. Deep down, this probably was what I had always secretly wanted. I nodded my head, and heard the lock click.

The first few nights, the pressure increased and I kept waiting for Maxine to go into her night table and take out the key. But she didn't. She would go to sleep holding me, and pushing her breasts into my back. She also made it a point to expose herself to me and turn the conversation to sex as often as she could.

A week after being locked up, I was about to burst. The summer evening was warm, so Maxine came to bed naked. She layed down and held me.

As I was trying to sleep, I started getting hard. Suddenly, on impulse, I gently took Maxine's hand and brought it to my penis. Her reaction was swift.

Maxine took hold of my caged penis, and began to coax it to fuller erection. She was speaking very low, but very distinctly from behind me. "So, the pressure is getting to you, is it?"

I nodded and grinded my hips against her hand. The pain was getting intense. "It's been a week, and you want an orgasm, I bet."

I sheepisly laughed.

"It is funny, isn't it. For me to see you like this, that is. Hot the way you are." She breathed into my face and stroked my caged cock. "You want my mouth there, don't you."

I nodded. She replied in a whisper. "I am so hot. I have been for days, but what is making me hot is your situation. Your frustration makes me so fucking hot! You're making me hotter now with your cock locked up than I ever was with it free."

I said nothing as she ground her body against mine. "Do you know what would make me so hot?"

I shrugged.

"Extending this frustration another two months."

"What?!?" I replied.

"I told you not to hint." She gave a few more fevered strokes, and then let go. "Go to sleep. You've no other choice."

We didn't speak a word about it from that point on. I was a "good boy" and didn't hint at all. A week went by, then two, then . . .

On a Saturday night two months later, Maxine came into our room, and tossed me the key to open up the cock lock. True to my word, I hadn't nagged her or even hinted for any relief. The sexual tension had built up in me fiercely so at the beginning, everything got me excited, but the pain when I got an erection quickly forced me to think myself soft.

A few times she had me finger her to orgasm, and the cage was very uncomfortable the way it restricted my penis. So, when she finally let me remove it, my cock momentarily sprung to life, but curiously began getting soft again. It stayed at a halfway erection, with a dull pain deep inside me. Maxine just stared and half smiled at my wilting erection. "You're not so hard now, big shot."

She told me to lie down on the bed, and she immediately began lowering her crotch onto my face. I looked up expectantly for her pussy to settle on my mouth, but my wife instead was lowering her ass onto my face. I tried to get to her pussy, but she was too quick. "I want you to tongue me in the back." The depravity of it all got to me, and as soon as her hand touched my penis it betrayed me. I began to have a weak orgasm. I wasn't even totally erect. It was very unfulfilling, like a 1/3 rd orgasm. Would it be like this everytime. Would I ever be able to get an erection and have a solid orgasm again?

"Please give me a rest, and let me try again," I asked her, as she wiped stray drops of my cum off her breasts.

"No!!" she asked. And even as my penis was still glistening, and my first orgasm in two months was subsiding, Maxine took the chastity device and began strapping it on me. She clicked the lock, and kissed me on the cheek.

"Say goodbye till Christmas, honey."

It was only September. I held back my tears.

She looked at me with a slight smile, and I began to tear. Why was she being so cruel? She had reached down into my guts, twisted, and pulled them right out of my body.

This was my lot in life now.