Chapter 6: The Rest of the Week

Monday dragged into Tuesday and then into Wednesday morning. My cock was in a constant state of denied arousal, and my balls ached with the need to cum. I tried everything I could to quell my desires. I tried cold showers. Summer in Brisbane means even cold showers are lukewarm.

I tried to exercise it away. I was running, going to the gym, and attending every voluntary training, stretching, and skills programs the club was offering, even the ones for the first-year recruits. I even helped the coaches out with the skills exercises.

To try and distract myself, I phoned Roger’s vocal coach. We set up a video conference as she wasn’t taking face-to-face clients due to the Covid restrictions.

I explained what I wanted in a lie, “I have a play coming up where I play a female role. With how deep and flat my voice is, I’m not going to sound too convincing in any short amount of time, but I’d like to get somewhere near as feminine as possible as I want to do this well.

It’s for a kid’s charity,” I added to my lie.

“I think I can help,” she said. “When is the show?”

“Sunday afternoon is opening day. It runs for a week,” I extrapolated from my lie.

“I can’t get you sounding like Fifi Box,” a very popular radio announcer in Brisbane, “in six days,” she said. “But I can probably get you sounding like Bea Arthur in The Golden Girls. How does that sound?”

“Perfect,” I replied.

She gave me a lot of exercises to do around vocal cord control, breathing, and where to speak from.

“It’s going to take a lot of work,” she informed me. “But I guess you’re used to that with your AFL training.

Here’s how you check how successful you’ve been. Phone random stores and ask a question. If they answer ‘Yes sir,’ you have more work to do. If they answer, ‘Yes ma’am,’ you’re set.”

I worked religiously on these exercises, just like I do at my football training. No coach has ever accused me of being unfit or not giving 100%.

By Wednesday afternoon, I was getting about a 50-50 ‘Yes sir/Yes ma’am’ response. I’d keep at it, but I knew that, combined with how I was going to present, my voice would no longer give me away.

The problem was that by Wednesday night, I needed to cum so badly that I put myself to bed early and tried to will myself to cum.

I imagined everything I could think of to get over the edge.

Fucking Courtney, fucking Courtney and her sister together, fucking Courtney, her sister, and her mother at the same time. Fuck! I even tried adding in her brothers and then her father.

Nothing.

I relived being taken anally by Hannah for the first time. I thought about being taken by Roger and taking Roger. I even thought about how being seduced by Bryce had felt.

Nothing I thought of or imagined could get me over the edge into an orgasm. I needed some kind of stimulation to get there. I don’t think I would have cared what it was. Anal, or oral or penile, anything, would probably have sent me into a relieving orgasmic state.

But with the cage firmly in place, I couldn’t get over the edge.

Sobbing, I tried to sleep. About an hour later, still wide awake, a green light came on on my bedside table.

“Do you need to cum, my cock sucking pooftah husband?” Courtney’s voice said in the dark.