I am Prickoless. I wonder, can you remember my real name without looking back? No? Well, my name is Barry.
I know that most of you despise me. You keep reading because you want to see how far I will be humiliated before I snap. I know that some of you reading this transfer the ire you feel for your own husbands and heap it onto my shoulders.
You guys out there (I know there are some, perhaps the enlightened ones who have read the story so far), don’t be complacent. You may find yourself either caged, displaced or even banished. And your paycheck may be raided to fund the lives of children you hardly see.
I didn’t grow up thinking all women were bitches, I still don’t, but there are some whom I have the misfortune to know that fit the Wikipedia definition of belligerent, controlling, dominant unreasonable even aggressive. Although I have since learned from my experience, there is a little bit of a bitch waiting to get out in each woman.
I used to think of myself as avuncular and jocular. I played sports at school and college. Whilst I wasn’t the first name on the team sheet, most seasons I played each game or a part of it. However, I did have a secret – I was gay. This was not a thing you admitted if you wanted to keep playing sports. One also didn’t talk about it at home in that repressed environment. On top of that, my little sister thought she was a Disney Princess. She is now thirty-two years old, haughty, and still thinks she is a Disney Princess.
After college came marriage and kids. In truth, my life was a loveless sham. Sex was nowhere. How could I have sex with a body I didn’t love? A question I have always pondered was, “Did I ever truly love my wife?” I guess I did in some ways, just not the right ways for the wife.
We argued about money, of course, and the kids, who I adore, even if the act of getting them was a chore.
Then one day out of the blue, it happened. It was a Tuesday evening and she – I can’t really call her my wife anymore – gave me a beer and told me change was coming and I had to accept it! If I didn’t accept the change, she was throwing me out and I would need to be gone by the weekend.
She said I must refer to her as Mistress from now on. I wanted to know what was going on, but her face was set in that way it does when I know she isn’t going to change her mind.
The following day, I coasted through work at the office, trying to work out my options. At the end of the day, I stayed for two reasons: One, I love my kids. Two, I had nowhere else to go. And don’t look at me like that! Some of you have stayed in loveless marriages for exactly the same reasons. I guess it’s the path of least resistance. Little did I know how low I would sink, and in a strange way find some joy.
The cock cage was nothing. I didn’t get hard when I looked at her and had to jerk myself before sex with her. It wasn’t because she didn’t look good; I simply didn’t find her attractive. Before you criticize me, how many of you ladies out there have faked orgasms or developed headaches? I thought so.
So, it was a small cage. I don’t have the biggest cock in the world – most men don’t – it wasn’t a problem until he arrived.
My god, she paraded him around – naked – and he was magnificent! For the first time in my life, I might actually be falling in love, turned on just by a glimpse of him.
They made me watch them having sex and that was when I came to hate the cage. It was torture! And when Mistress – it still sticks in my throat – saw how my body betrayed me, she was merciless and ruthless.
Then one day, the Disney Princess arrived. Originally it was to witness my humiliation when she romped with the magnificent beast. If I thought my life was crap, it took a distinct turn downhill as fast and dangerous as a black ski slope for a novice skier. That stuck-up Disney Princess came at me with the eight-inch strap-on belonging to Mistress. My humiliation plummeted to a whole new level. It felt like she wanted to destroy my butt. Both Mistress and Helen were conscious of my grunting with pain and humiliation. Their only concern, however, was what the neighbours might think. Well, my world was transformed, for my mouth was filled with the thing I have come to love – his majestic beautiful tasty cock. I was in turmoil – my mouth alive, my cock tortured by the cage, and my arsehole felt as if I had been plundered with a red hot poker.
So, here I was at every opportunity a voyeur. I found myself longing to see the man she wanted me to call Teacher. I craved his attention for myself. So, I found myself watching, waiting and hoping. I watched him claim the Disney Princess as his own little Kitten. She knelt with her lips around his cock. He busted me watching whilst he was with her and made me come into the room. He made me watch what was happening, which resulted in pain from the cage as my cock swelled to its hardest.
There she was sucking and slavering over the cock that I dreamed about. Then the bitch dragged me closer by my cock. And when the magnificent beast of Teacher erupted, she made me lick his cum from her tits. She grabbed my neck and made me feast on her. I craved his cum, but hated where I needed to lick the Disney Princess.
