Prissy Poodle

By: Throne

My wife Regina has a natural talent for manipulation.  We had been married
for a short while when she started hinting that we might experiment a
little with our sex life.  Well, she's a real beauty, with a full figure
that she's unapologetic about, and which turns me on no end.  Just seeing
her generous curves when she's around the house, cooking or folding
laundry, or even simply sitting at the computer, drives me wild.  So, with
the possibility of adding some extra spice to our lovemaking, I agreed.
What had I expected?  Maybe her buying extra hot lingerie.  Or me massaging
her with scented oils.  Something like that.  So I was surprised and put
off balance when she said I should remove all my body hair.  "Come on,"
Regina said in her most sultry voice.  "I'd really love to get my hands all
over your body if it was smooth and hairless.  It would be soooo exciting."
Well, hearing her say that did the trick.  It turned out she had already
purchased an excellent depilatory cream for me to use.  I got into the
shower and spread it generously, everywhere from just below my eyebrows.  I
had to stand there for ten minutes while it worked, with her in the room.
That was sort of uncomfortable because I'd always been self-conscious about
my slender and soft body, as well as my below average sized genitals.  I
fussed with my collar-length hair, which had gotten that long because she
kept discouraging me from getting it cut.

When it was time to shower off I was further disturbed to see all my body
hair accumulating on the drain cover.  I tried to voice my concern to my
wife but she just said not to worry, that the pipes wouldn't get clogged.
"After all, Terry," she reassured me, "you didn't have much hair on you to
begin with."  Actually, what I had been concerned about was how she might
think of me after such a change, and the belated realization that I
wouldn't want anyone else to see me that way.  I went to the bedroom with
one towel around my waist and another draped over my shoulders, covering
myself the best I could.  Regina was sitting on the edge of our bed, fully
dressed, with a sly smile on her pretty face.  I felt uncomfortable in my
new state and even more so when she told me to put the towels over the back
of her vanity chair.  I blushed as I discarded them.

"Very nice," she commented.  "Come here and let me feel."  I went to her
hesitantly and she reached up to run her fingers up and down my narrow
chest.  I shivered and felt my penis twitch.  She stroked the area below my
navel and the tops of my thighs.  I couldn't help getting stiff.  When my
member rose to its full unimpressive four slim inches, she lightly petted
its underside, saying, "You know, without any hair down there, your binky
looks even smaller than usual."  Binky?  Where had that unflattering term
come from?  I didn't have time to think about that because my passion was
mounting.  Regina kept touching me, bringing me to the heights of arousal
and then backing off and allowing me to catch my breath.  She did that over
and over, making me stand there and squirm, physically and mentally, while
she made more remarks about my lack of hirsuteness, using words like 'cute'
and 'sweet' and even 'pretty'.

Then she stood up and suggested that I undress her.  My hands were unsteady
as I got Regina out of her blouse and skirt, knelt to remove her stockings,
and set everything aside.  Then I gently got her out of her bra and panties
and stood there waiting to see what came next.  Being naked and denuded of
hair made me feel submissive, unable to oppose her.  She put her arms
around my shoulders and hugged me close, her heavy breasts pressed warmly
against my front.  I whimpered with need and she chuckled.  "Do you want to
have a little fun, baby?" she asked.  I nodded and managed a choked, "Yes."
"Well, I'm always nice to you, aren't I?"  Again I nodded.  "And if I do
something for you, you'll do something for me.  Right?"  It sounded like I
was working to earn a reward, but my thinking was colored by lust and I
simply told her, "Whatever you want."  She said, "Good boy."  Regina laid
back on the bed and parted her long legs.  She said I should get into
position and I did, but then she suggested, "I don't want your fun to be
all over right away, and you're really worked up, so why don't you touch me
with just the tip of your little binky."  My horniness was at a frightening
peak and I didn't want to ruin her mood and risk my chance.

So, keeping my upper body elevated on straightened arms, I let only the
sensitized end of my penis meet the moist, warm, slippery entrance of her
womanhood.  I sighed loudly.  Regina moved her hips, taking the initiative,
controlling my stimulation.  After several minutes of that she reached up
and lightly fingered my nipples.  I moaned and threw back my head.  She
didn't stop.  It went on and on and on.  All at once she gave my chest
extra attention, making my sexual pulse race, and I was suddenly squirting
my limited amount of spunk.  I hadn't even gotten inside.  My embarrassment
was overwhelming.  But Regina only smirked at me and pulled me down on top
of her.  I lay there, cheeks flushed, knowing I hadn't satisfied her.  I
could finish her another way but had never liked the idea of providing oral
sex and couldn't have anyway, not without her cleaning up.  She held me and
patted my back consolingly, which only made me feel more of a failure.
Then she said, "You can make it up to me later."

Well, 'later' came the next evening.  We had just been talking about my
loss of body hair and she mentioned that the lotion I had used would
prevent it from growing back for at least a month, which was a shock to me.
Then she brought up another idea she'd had for experimentation.  Regina
said she had ordered a chastity device on line and wanted to try it.  I
said, "But, dear, how could we have sex if you were wearing one of those
things?"  She snickered and said, "Not me, Terry.  You.  It's a simple tube
that goes over your binky.  I was able to find one small enough to fit you.
So let's try it."  After my failure of the night before, along with her
reminder of how my smaller than average penis size, I said I would put it
on.  After all, I encouraged myself, if I didn't like it I could always
take it off.  So she got out the device and had me strip.  I had to go to
the fridge to get an ice pack so I could shrink my erection if I got one.
Hurrying through the house without a stitch on me brought magnified the
feeling of surrender to my wife.  When I got back she let me stand there
feeling awkward for several minutes while she turned the open-framework
tube this way and that.  At last she used the ice pack -- just to be sure,
she said -- and slid the miniature cage over my member.  To my surprise she
produced a small padlock, passed it through a ring that closed around the
top of my scrotum, and clicked it shut.  I wouldn't be able to take it off.

"B... but, honey," I said weakly.  "You'll have to be really careful not to
lose that key."  "I know," she said in a mock serious voice.  "If you
couldn't get your relief for a few days, you'd be a total mess.  And if I
just hid the key, you'd probably do anything I wanted if you thought it
would get you unlocked."  The truth of that hit me hard.  I said numbly,
"Anything you wanted."  She laughed, breaking my somber mood, and said,
"Now let's have some fun.  I want to run my hands all over your smooth,
pink, soft body."  She got me into bed again and took her time enjoying the
feel of my now satiny skin.  I wriggled under her touch.  When she licked
her fingertips and applied them to my nipples I squealed.  It felt so
strange not to be able to get hard.  It was uncomfortable.  But she didn't
relent.  And I knew without asking that she had no intention of freeing me
that night.  Regina didn't stop until I was sobbing with need.  Then she
hugged me close to her and we cuddled, with her stroking my back and making
soothing sounds.  I was confused but hopeful.  I mean, how far could she
take something like that?  We were just experimenting, right?

The next day was Saturday.  There was no mention of sex.  Regina wanted to
go to the mall so I took her.  She spent time in the big lingerie store,
going through their plus size department.  For me that was like being in
sex heaven... except that I was still in chastity.  She selected a filmy
baby-doll nighty and held it up in front of her.  "Would you like to buy
this for me?"  I pictured her wearing it and said I definitely would.  Then
she wanted to know, "Would you like me to model it for you later?"  Again I
was very clear that I did.  That was when she surprised me by asking, "And
what would I get in return?"  Standing there in the middle of that store,
with people all around us, I was uneasy talking about something so
intimate.  I inquired cautiously, "Well... I mean... what were you thinking
of?"  "You know how you don't do oral for me?  Let's change that.  You need
to try it and see what happens."  I was startled.  She new I had no desire
to do that for her.  But now I had to think about being in chastity, about
her holding the key, and about how eager I was to be free.  So I told her,
"If that's what you'd like to try, you know, just to see how it goes, we
could do that."  She patted me atop the head and again said, "Good boy."

At home she undressed and spent the rest of the day in just brief panties
and a cropped top with no bra underneath.  My need doubled as I watched her
make a sandwich, pour a glass of milk, and take a bag of chips out of the
cabinet.  Everything she did showed her off to me.  By the time she was
ready to hit the bedroom, around eight, I was totally distracted by
yearning.  She made me get naked.  Regina slipped off her panties.  Then
she surprised me by tossing them across the room and calling out, "Fetch!"
I went after them and carried them back to her.  She accepted them and got
ready to throw them again, first saying, "This time you can pick them up
with your mouth, like a good boy."  You've heard about how guys think with
their dicks?  Well, when your dick is in chastity it can really change the
way you think.  The panties went flying and I rushed after them, got down
on the floor, and snatched them up in my teeth.  Regina was pleased but she
told me, "One last time, but now you're going to bring them back on all
fours.  GO!"  Without thinking I did it.  When I was at her feet she
stroked my shoulder and repeated that 'good boy'.  Then she finished
undressing and put on the nighty.  It was sheer and being able to glimpse
her through the material was maddening.  All I wanted to do was have sex
but that was impossible unless she used the key.

My wife laid back on the bed and spread her thighs.  She grinned at me and
said, "You saw the nighty.  Time to pay."  I braced myself for the unwanted
task.  She purred contentedly as I got into place.  Then I forced myself to
use my mouth on her.  It shouldn't have excited me but, as deprived of sex
as I felt, it got me hard right away.  Soon I was caught up in giving her
pleasure, all the while telling myself that this was how I would earn my
release and regain my privileges in bed.  Regina was rocked by one orgasm
and then, after plenty more effort from me, a second.  She exhaled and told
me that was enough, and that I could move up alongside her.  Then she went
back into cuddling mode.  She even toyed with my nipples and whispered in
my ear that it had been wonderful for her.  That was small consolation as
my balls began to ache.  She put her hand over the chastity tube and said,
"How's your little binky doing, Terry?" I whimpered but lied that
everything was all right.  She moved her hands in slow motion over my
smooth skin and told me, "If you keep being such a good boy, I might be
tempted to go get that key and let you out of your tube.  Maybe."

Sunday morning she announced that if I stayed naked all day she would give
me a special treat.  Despite my discomfort, I said yes.  I was full of
anticipation and ready to cooperate.  By 'treat' she must mean an
unlocking.  I cleaned the kitchen and made her lunch.  She had on tight
slacks and a low cut top, plus sandals with two inch heels.  I couldn't
stop sneaking peeks at her.  I know that sounds strange, me feeling I
couldn't just gape at her the way I wanted to, but I was slipping deeper
into the new role she seemed to be steering me toward.  After lunch Regina
made me stand in front of her while she gave me a long evaluating look.
Finally she decided, "You really don't look very masculine, with no body
hair, all that rosy skin on display, and your little binky hidden in the
chastity.  I want to do something that'll bring your new look together."
She thought for a moment and then said brightly, "I know exactly the
thing."  Regina left the room, her round bottom rolling, hypnotizing me,
and soon returned carrying several rolls of ribbon and a pair of scissors.
She went to work and produced a big yellow bow that she tied around my
neck, to one side, so that it rested on my shoulder.  Then she made a
smaller one in red and tied it over my genitals, further obscuring them.

With a laugh she announced, "You look less like a man and more like a
pampered pet.  Like a prize poodle."  I felt my cheeks get hot from shame
but, at the same time, thought that maybe by giving in I could gain her
sympathy.  So I put my hands up like paws and held them in front of me.
Regina praised me with, "Good boy.  Very good boy."  As foolish as I knew I
looked, it might be worth it to do whatever she wanted if it would get me
out of that frustrating chastity.  My wife came up to me, took my head
between her hands, and pressed my face into her deep cleavage.  A current
of sexual electricity ran down my spine and into my binky.  I mean my
penis.  I was grateful for the small treat she was giving me.  Regina added
a bit of nipple play and then stepped away.  I stood before her, reduced to
powerlessness, but determined to stay the course.  We spent the rest of the
day with her teasing me in various ways and hinting that I might earn more
rewards, and me willingly playing along, even finding myself caught up in
her game and trying to win, even if there was no prize guaranteed.

For the next week it went on like that.  Whenever I was home, staying nude
would earn me small rewards.  Every night I had my face between her thighs
and gave her all the orgasms she wanted.  By the end of the week she wasn't
finishing those sessions with the cuddles I had come to expect, and I got
somewhat sulky, but still I was drawn deeper into her plan.  The second
weekend she informed me that if I stayed down on all fours she would play
with my nipples more.  I had become dependent on that for the sexual input
I craved so, even though I knew I would be left unfulfilled, I began going
everywhere in the house on hands and knees.  When it was time for me to
have my chest played with, I had to sit up and beg like a dog.  On Saturday
afternoon she put a blanket by her lounge chair in the yard and told me I
could lie on it while she chatted on the phone.  I was shaken by the idea
of being outside in my new identity but was too deep into the role to
object.  The only thing behind our home was a large wooded area, so I might
not be spotted --I hoped.  I had to curl up near her feet, aware the entire
time of her inviting body so nearby, and listen to her chat with her
girlfriends.  I couldn't stop inventorying my predicament, and how I was
hairless and rosy-skinned, wearing ribbons now on my wrists and ankles too,
being made to act canine, and serving as a sex slave to my wife while I
stayed in chastity and got ever more anxious for relief.

It was the last phone call that day, however, that changed everything.  I
pieced together from her end of the conversation that she had run into an
old boyfriend, Curt, at the mall one day, and he had taken her to lunch.
Regina was flirtatious with him as I listened with deepening concern.  I
started to say something at one point and she shushed me, snapping, "No
talk."  Instead of being insulted, I worried that my outburst might have
cost me my next teasing session.  She had a long gab with Curt and at the
end said they would get together soon.  I put my chin on my crossed hands,
realizing even as I did it that the pose was more appropriate for a dog.
That evening Regina got out her hair styling stuff, combs and brushes and
spray, and went to work on my hair, which she hadn't been letting me even
get trimmed.  Soon I had what she called a poodle cut.  It was full on top,
straight on the sides, and puffed up at the bottom, where it touched my
shoulders.  OMG, it really did look like a poodle.  Again I tried to speak
and she raised her hand to me.  I instantly closed my mouth.  She said,
"Good girl," and rolled my bare nipples between her thumbs and forefingers,
leaving me gasping.  But she had called me 'good GIRL'.  I came out of the
spell she had me under for a minute and realized that Regina had been
making me more and more feminine.  I mean, I had been aware of it, but with
the chastity and the way she used my need against me, I hadn't been
thinking clearly about it.

That night at bedtime, as I entered our room on all fours, I was appalled
to see, alongside the bed, a doggie bed.  As I reached it I smelled
something flowery and bent my head to sniff.  There was perfume sprayed
onto the fuzzy pink oval.  My wife challenged me with an imposing look.  I
meekly crawled onto the floor bed and curled up, like a good dog.  She
smiled and said, "That's my girl.  Get a good night's sleep and there'll be
some new treats in the morning.  I lay there, shamefully aware of my
unmanly look.  My mind was filled with thoughts about Curt.  Regina had
always been a very sensual woman.  But with my small binky I had never been
able to give her the climaxes she wanted.  And my past refusal to provide
oral hadn't helped my position.  Now she was on the verge of seeing some
guy she had gone with in the past.  I lay there, so close and yet so far
away from the sexiest woman I had ever known.  My hands went to my crotch
and, behind today's bow, a neat, full lavender one, I felt my smooth,
almost satiny skin.  There was no sign of new hair growth.  I sniffled and
tried to go to sleep but instead just lay there for an hour, wishing my
wife would wake up and -- not let me out of chastity and have sex with me -
- but tease me to distraction, make me lick her pussy, and then tell me I
was a good girl.  What was happening to me?