Soft music played from the speakers. The warm water soothed our yoga-sore muscles. The vitamin E oil in the water mixed with the rose oils and petals made it feel like we were soaking in liquid silk. Benedict was reclining against my chest, eyes closed. I could see the tiny movements of his eyes under his pale lids. I kissed his temple. He smiled and reached for his wine glass.

These were the moments I never thought I’d have with Benedict. With a more casual lover, I would have just broke up with him, but there was no easy with out of this one. I was smitten, in love. I wanted a life with Benedict, but one thing had almost been a dealbreaker: his sex drive.

Benedict’s sex drive simply did not have an off button. He craved sex frequently and fervently. He seized upon any instance to touch, stroke, suck, or put my dick inside of him. After being with him for a while, I began to see two distinct patterns. One was just random horniness that needed to be soothed, usually in the morning. The other was a side-effect of exposure. He couldn’t see me change, or catch a glimpse of me in the shower without getting hard and wanting to turn it into sex. If Benedict saw my bulge while I watched TV in my boxer briefs, he had to try and turn it into sex. Don’t get me started on swim trunks. We had a talk about it more than once.

I hated letting him down, and leaving him frustrated, especially because surprisingly Benedict wasn’t a big fan of masturbation. He didn’t like the way it made him feel. He felt stupid, and kind of gross, especially after, so he tended to ignore his urges until they were pent up. As long as he had a boyfriend, Benedict did not see the point of self-pleasure. However, he was wearing me out. Also sex wasn’t really appropriate or possible in some instances, which lead to stress in our relationship.
What drove me crazy thought was that I could see the potentional of our relationship underneath the river of hormones, I just couldn’t dive down deep enough without being swept away. Benedict wanted to cuddle. He wanted to be romantic. He wanted to go on dates, and have fun, without bringing sex into everything. Benedict told me once he wished he could see nude bodies in museums the way artists did, instead of how perverts did.

That’s when I realized Benedict knew that he was out of control himself, but was too embarrassed to confess. So, I decided to take the Big Step Forward in our relationship and assert myself. I locked his cock up in a pretty metal cage. No pesky erections. No distraction. No masturbation. Turns out, that his rampant hunger to be fucked only reared itself when he was fully hard and ready to go. So as long as it was locked down, his sex drive only simmered. It was much more manageable. The orgasms I gave him were more powerful and lasted longer. Plus, Benedict found it fun to delay his orgams until I could give him a really big one. He wouldn’t beg for sex either, but found himself pausing, remembering the fun of preferring long nights in the bedroom with toys instead of quickies.

Slowly, we began to enjoy the rebirth of our relationship. Here we were in a scene I never thought possible: we were having a bath. That’s it. Just a bath, both of us, completely nude, completely wet, and Benedict’s hand was no where near my cock. He was sipping his wine and just relaxing. It was wonderful to just be us. I mean, we went to yoga as a couple today, and Benedict was an angel.

I put my arms around his waist. Now, I could see a future together. The same key that opens the chastity cage can also be used to open the key to a boy’s heart.

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Text is fictional.