There was too much stuff everywhere. Unbroken pizzas, uneaten food, undrinkable coffee, underwear and bras, and little and big figures of clay were ev...rywhere. Martha sculpted.Brilliantly.I made some coffee and plopped down on the couch. After a bit of searching, I discovered the TV, and after a little while, the remote. I polished the TV screen with my T-shirt and settled back down. Then I heard her call, "Eric, over here please?"In the last four months, she'd only invited me into the 'studio'. But what can I do about it? Nothing.Ever since I foolishly let my chastity fantasy do my thinking for me,and agreed to have my cock locked up, I've been at her mercy. Sherarely sets me free and, when she does, if she's considerate enough topermit me to ejaculate, it's always in some way that I don't like. Thebest I can hope for is that she'll grant me permission to masturbate,and then watch me and give instructions, which are mixed in withcriticisms and a bit of verbal abuse.The last time, I. More

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