As you can imagine the fancy dressed party was full of sexily dressed women.
Blair and I remained handcuffed for only the first ten minutes. During this time her prisoner outfit was greeted with lustful up and down stares from the guys and raised eyebrow with up and down stares from the women. I was met with wide grins and giggles as my short panted prisoner outfit clung to me as much as Blair’s obscenely short tee shirt.
Within an hour I was concerned about my hardening cock and wished I was wearing the cb6000s to keep it in place. In fact the idea of wearing a chastity belt whilst my wife was leered at and flirted with by all the guys was a huge turn on itself. An excitement not mitigated by the array of sexy thighs and boobs from the women.
Blair soon disappeared onto the dance floor, as is usual for her after a few glasses of white wine. Fortunately the clinging tee shirt-dress stuck to her bottom and only rode up occasionally. Not that it stopped guys taking her in with lustful eyes. I was desperate to get a way for a wank.
I noticed only one other guy in what I considered a subbie outfit, a burly rugby fellow in a maid’s uniform. His muscular tattooed arms exposed. No danger of seeing him as a sissy.
So here is an interesting observation. Many of the women made a bee line for me. I guess in my prisoners outfit I was less threatening than some of the more masculine outfits in which the other guys were attired.
It was as if the prisoner uniform gave them permission to approach and make fun of me. And I loved it.
The life changing incident with her boss Morgan Hopkins was to happen after the meal.
The food was delayed, so more wine was drunk. The dining room was a raucous cacophony of heightened sexual tension. It was amazing no women were on their backs on the floor. I imagine that roman orgies must have had a preamble such as this.
Blair grabbed me at the foot of the stairs and dragged me upstairs.
“I can’t dance anymore. These heels are killing me.”
I looked down at her white ankle boots and made a note to buy such a pair as soon as possible. They made her legs in the black tights look even more sumptuous.
Gripping my arm she whispered, “and I can see the ladies love your little bottom in your shorts.”
I laughed, confiding that I had never before enjoyed so much attention from women.
So that was when we saw the group around Hopkins.
Morgan Hopkins was holding forth outside the snooker room on the balcony. He stood before a huge painting of some overly decorated general from hundreds of years ago. He was surrounded by a small group of giggling women and men who I could see were in two minds about him. Part envy at him being so tall, good looking, clearly the boss and effortlessly alpha male.
Blair gripped my hand and dragged me over to them.
“Hi!” she announced to Hopkins, breaking up one of his stories.
The outfit I should have worn!
The women were pissed off at her confidence and exchanged glances: ‘who does she think she is?’
I felt myself flush. Blair is a quiet lass as a rule but after a few drinks she is the sort of girl to clamber onto a table to dance.
“Hey!” Hopkins bellowed. “Look at you! Wow.”
“This is Jordan, my husband. You met him before.”
She tugged me before him and I flushed bright red feeling like a little boy in my shorts before such a bear of a guy.
As you know my fantasies have been about Morgan Hopkins cuckolding me, with me being a sissy in chastity. So now I was speechless.
And I need to tell you what Hopkins was wearing. Even today, some weeks later, it gives me a thrill. He was dressed as a US police officer, with baton, gun and flat hat. He filled the uniform with some menace, I think helped by the way the cap’s peak came partly down over his eyes. It made him look no nonsense tough
I cleared my throat, feeling speechless and way too nervous to feel any erotic charge.
“Yeh! We keep meeting up when we are pissed eh Jordan?” he laughed.
I laughed, and yes it was sycophantic laugh and yes I was feeling hot about my cheeks. I guess he was about 6 inches taller than me, maybe standing 6’3”, but he was wearing big boots. I have never seen him without this huge confident grin, as if he knows something wickedly funny and he won’t share it.
So he filled us in on the story so far before continuing it with his audience in his hand. The punch line was only something about him already having received a cheque for twice the amount from the client but for some reason we all found this hilarious.
You don’t need to know about the next half hour or so of chat. Some people left, mainly the guys and a few more joined, mainly girls. I remember feeling a bit of an idiot standing in the half circle of his audience not saying anything, watching my wife’s giggle and fawn over his every story.
Then it happened. It makes my mouth go dry even now.
It started with him saying something to Blair about being late at a meeting, it was part of one of his stories. Blair, now benefiting from far too much wine cocked one knee in front of the other to look up at him and gushed. “So are you going to arrest me officer?”
She span her handcuffs around her hand in front of him.
At that point I was embarrassed. Embarrassed at not having the guts to have left the group ages before, maybe with a excuse of having a pee. And now embarrassed at my drunken wife making a fool of us. I felt a tremor of anger. Had there not been so many people around I would have said something to her.
Hopkins took the cuffs from her and I watched my wife twist back and fore like a naughty school girl in front of the headmaster. Her eyes seemed huge, she was awaiting his response. I knew she was hot. In the days when we had sex she wore that same passive, willing to please look when aroused.
Hopkins’ grin stayed firmly in place as he waved the cuffs in front of her. “You are a naughty prisoner aren’t you?”
There were giggles but it was as if the group was holding its collective breath with sexual tension.
“Maybe,” Blair whispered slyly.
“These are toy cuffs prisoner. Look.” He closed them and then used the trick catch to spring then open. “If you wore these you would escape!”
She played the game by gaping and putting her hands to her mouth. “Please Sir I just didn’t know.”
And now I had a semi hard on. And I suspect I wasn’t the only guy in the group with a hardening dick.
“You need these.” Hopkins pulled a hefty set of handcuffs from his belt.
We were awestruck by them. It was as if he was a hypnotist and we his subjects.
My wife’s eyes were huge, unblinking orbs. She took in every flash of light on the silver cuffs.
Hopkins lowered his voice and if sharing confidence said, “These are real police handcuffs. A friend in Honk Kong bought them for me. They are the actual ones police use over there.”
I swallowed. I wanted a pair! Real police handcuffs. Wow.
He lowered them before Blair. “They are double locking. You know what that means?”
She giggled, “I am doubly in trouble?”
There was some laughter.
“Well, yeh, that too.” Hopkins continued in sotto voce. “It means you lock them once to hold the prisoner but then lock them a second time so that they won’t get tighter. Stops prisoners squeezing them shut on their wrists and then them needing to be opened. Means you can keep your prisoners locked up for a longer time.”
Blair had no witty response. Her glossy pink lips fell open showing her white teeth. Her eyes were set on the cuffs.
“Want a give them a try?” he asked,
Her mouth dropped open in shock, but then giggled and held out her wrists.
I can recall feeling almost fully erect. The top of my prisoner outfit didn’t descend far enough to hide my groin so I moved my wine glass to obscure it as best I could. I was breathing quickly, as if I had just been for a run.
Being unaware of anything in that room save Morgan, his double locking cuffs and my aroused wife I cannot say what the others were feeling or doing. Even the music and shouting was wiped out by this moment of electricity.
All attention was on the two of them.
Morgan kept his eyes locked on my wife’s as he clicked the first cuff around her slender wrist. I could see her boobs rising and falling under the clingy prisoner outfit. She was in heat.
“Now I lock it once.” He turned the key in the mechanism and we heard a click. “Now I double lock it.” The lock clunked a second time and we all knew Blair would not be able to remove her cuff without Hopkins’ key.
“The other hand.” Hopkins commanded as if ordering another drink.
Blair was reluctant; I could see her eyes waver. She glanced up at him about to say something but then grinned, as if thinking better of it before offering him her right hand.
He closed the cuff around it and Blair gasped.
“So I lock it once.” Click. “And now the second time.” Clunk.
And so my wife stood before him her hands handcuffed wearing just a sexy, tiny, body hugging tee shirt, pertaining to be a prisoner’s uniform, along with her little ankle boots.
There was a short moment when galaxies formed and were destroyed before the group came back to life and people started snapping pictures on their phones.
Morgan gripped my wife’s shoulders and spun her around so his arm was about his captive. “My prisoner folks!”
If this were a Deborah Ford story I guess the evening would have ended with me in handcuffs as Hopkin’s prisoner and Blair lying on her back on a snooker table while Hopkins took his pleasure. But Hopkins quickly unlocked Blair and started cuffing the other women who pleaded to try the handcuffs.
Blair approached me, her eyes sleepy with arousal searching deep into my eyes. I could almost hear her saying: ‘so what do you think of that cuckold. Your fantasy comes true?’
We didn’t speak. We walked back downstairs to the dance hall then towards the wine bar. It was at that moment that I felt it. I had precum around my cock. It felt cold and wet in my boxers.
Taking hold of Blair’s wrist I stopped her and she looked at me with wide eyed expectation and a sexy grin.
“We have to go,” I said. “I am damp in the groin.”
She whispered in my ear, “You are not the only one.”
We left with me keeping my hand across my shorts to hide any evidence of ‘spillage’.
Will tell you what happened when we got home in the next journal.
I guess you recall how we are dressed, Blair, my wife and I. Two prisoners. She in the sexy short dress, flashing thigh so high she might have been genuinely arrested. Me in the humiliating convict outfit, with the tiny clingy shorts the women at the party had found so amusing.
So we hit our house running. Hot and in need. We haven’t had sex for an age, months. Our sex life has been on a downward slide for way too long.
We both know we are bursting for sex, yet we say nothing.
All the way home in the car we catch each other’s eyes. Blair grinning with her knowing eyes. So sexy, her head slightly bowed, looking up at me through her eyelashes. My dick firm in the shorts. Obvious to all. But she doesn’t touch it so I wonder if she truly wants it.
Then running up the stairs like children.
A pause, right at my bedrooms doorway.
As if both of us want to draw breath. Ask the other if they feel same. She sees my uncertainty and grabs my hand. Within moments we are devouring each other.
Deep sucking kissing like we haven’t experienced since before Chloe’s birth
Stripping each other as we stagger to the bed.
My cock now would push through butter. So hard it hurts. How long since I have felt like this?
Collapse onto the bed, attacking each other. My shorts are down, my hard cock up with only one place to go. We both tug her panties down and she is groaning, eyes closed, her hips pushing up. In need. We must have each other.
I slide in as she folds her legs around me. She gasps. Grips my back, her nails hard and sharp.
I am fucking her. I can feel her insides gripping and sucking.
“Blair,” I groan, “Blair.”
She is whispering, “Yes, yes, oh my God.”
Not being able to hold on even for a few seconds I am about to cum and she says it.
I hear her words. I hear the name.
Spluttered from deep within her. “Fuck me Morgan. Fuck me.”
I pause. My body rigid as she cavorts about me, pumping her hips like a wild machine.
She said his name. I am in my own fantasy. I am now him. The alpha male stud I have so often imagined screwing my wife. He is screwing my wife and I am in chastity. I can feel it in my imagination. My CB6000s tight around my cock while Morgan slams into my wife in another room.
The motions recommence. All on their own. My entire body doing the job.
I put my mouth to her ear. “I am taking you ‘cos your husband cannot. He cannot satisfy you like me.”
With that she freezes for a moment as her body goes berserk. Clenching my penis like a machine. Is my cock going to be crushed? She comes, spurting over my groin. I can feel it. The sticky little lumps. I have never known her so hot.
Then my mind turns blank white and I cum.
And cum … and cum.
It seems as if neither of us will ever stop. Not ever.
Finally her grinding slows and she lays splayed beneath me. Exhausted, gasping fish like for air
She is still moaning.
We clamber mindlessly beneath the quilt. She might as well be on drugs. Her eyes are miles from the real world.
She hushes me, but the effort of hushing me exhausts her. Her eyes close, her breathing slows as sleep pulls on her senses.
“Blair?” She shakes her head in her half sleep. not wanting to hear.
But I must know.
“My love, that was Morgan who just had you wasn’t it?”
She shushes me, but her lips slip into a sweet, naughty grin.
I am bursting with questions. How can she sleep?
She giggles, gently pressing a finger onto my lips. “Shush,” she says and after a long pause adds, “cuckold!”
She then giggles pushing her hot, soft body hard into mine. Moments later she is snoring gently.
Me? I cannot sleep. I am thinking. My head is spinning. She called out his name. She called me a cuckold.
I tried to think through it, make sense of it, just as I have done in the weeks that followed.
That image from the party: Morgan so powerful, so in control. My wife eagerly grinning up at him.
And those handcuffs. Double locking real, genuine police handcuffs.
My Chastity belt is in the draw near the window and I do not want to move right now. I do not want to spoil what we are feeling. But how I long to feel its security around me as I imagine so much.
Exhausted I muttered a quiet ‘wow’, before I slipped into a deep sleep. I felt a door had been opened in my life. I new path had grown before me.
By the second week of January my time to play with the chastity belt returned in abundance. By the third week I was in sissy chastity belted heaven, playing just about 24/7 with breaks on the weekend when wife and daughter were at home.
Blair had worn a continuous warm smile since the New Year’s Eve night when we made love for the first time in months. She had to catch up on work after the Christmas break so was staying late in town while Chloe had taken to staying at her friends near the school, so didn’t get back until after seven. How good can it get? Well Blair had taken to wearing sexy short skirts to work. She laughed about how Morgan had complimented her on her legs at the party, so the trouser suits immediately took a back seat. So every morning, and every evening, I was able to hold a gorgeous sexily dressed Blair tight, whilst locked in my chastity cage. Heaven. More hot frustration than you can believe.
Hence I could spend all day playing around. I’d get fully dressed in my favourite lingerie and dresses. Wear the neat wig I had bought back in the autumn, but most of all continue the experiment with the CB6000. I tried different combinations of the spacers and rings. They all felt slightly different.
There was something tinglingly exiting about squeezing into the cage with the smallest spacer. It took some doing because the damn thing pinches at the skin as it is closed. It usually takes about ten minutes to get it locked without catching my delicate flesh.
By putting it on every day I soon realised that the smaller the ring size I could bear the less it moved down the scrotum. At times the largest one would squeeze into my balls and I would have to unlock it so I could realign it. The middle sized one was a bitch to get on but remained securely in position so there was less rubbing and best of all it stayed in place near the my body.
Of course Blair took a key to work with her so I could pretend I was locked up in it all day while she played around with her alpha male Morgan Hopkins. A complete cuckold, sissy, fantasy but wholly safe because Blair would never cheat with another guy in the real world.
As you will recall she had spouted his name during her orgasm and the way she looked at him at the new year’s eve party showed she would give herself up to him in her own fantasies. That meshed with my own and heightened my day dreams when locked.
I had discovered that I could spurt cum when wearing it, yet without any kind of release or relief. When I removed it in order to gain satisfaction my balls were spent and hence I only achieved half an erection. The frustration was beautifully irritating, like truly being a prisoner of some dome female or her dominant partner. Imagine if that alpha male conceited boss of hers was her lover and controlled my orgasms. He would love it – well he did in my imaginary world.
I usually spent the morning playing with myself, worked in the afternoon and then put the chastity device on just before Blair came home. This was in case she ever asked to see it, though she never did. If I suggested it then she would wrinkle her nose and shake her head. “Not today.”
Looking back now I guess I would say that was the height of ‘my freedom.’ Even my afternoon work consisted of me playing computer games or watching the snooker. The far east container contract was pretty much in place now.
That fateful day when my world turned upside down and spiralled out of my control had been a good one. I had worn a new piece of lingerie that was flattering and sensual and had spent hours in stockings and heels dancing to music on my Ipod.
So I was quite sleepy in the afternoon and sat up straight when I heard Blair’s car on the gravel while I was playing a card game. It was only four thirty and I was out of the belt.
I raced upstairs to my bedroom to put it on and quickly tidy up the lingerie and stockings I had been wearing. They were all over the bed in plain view. The CB6000 still had the small spacer and the middle sized ring so they were the devil’s job to get on – and painful because of the rush I was in. But I reasoned it would be quicker to lock it on as it was than getting out the box hidden in the drawer in the cupboards then finding all the larger rings and spacers.
The front door slammed shut as I felt the damn thing pinch me.
She sounded agitated.
I prodded my dick into the device as I pulled the cage to the ring but of course with the small spacer I couldn’t get my finger to remain in position. There is only a millimetre or so between the cage and the rings with the small spacer. Time and time again it snapped shut on my sensitive skin.
She was coming up the stairs.
If she could see I could take it off whenever I wanted maybe she wouldn’t take the key to work with her and enhance my fantasy. I didn’t want the game to finish that afternoon.
She was on the landing near my door. There was an edge to her voice.
The device closed, finally sliding home and I smartly pushed the lock in to position clicking it shut.
I was still pulling up my pants and doing up the belt as she entered.
But she didn’t stay nor was she particularly interested in why I was dressing in the middle of the afternoon. “There you are.” She sounded irritated. “Down stairs now.”
I followed her down. “You all right? Something happen at work? That idiot Morgan hasn’t upset you?”
She didn’t say anything.
I saw she had dropped her coat in the hallway, that was totally unlike her. She always put away her clothes, she was the tidiest person I had ever met. I was growing concerned. Could her problems affect me? Was her place closing down so she wouldn’t be going to work and I couldn’t play?
“Get me a screwdriver.”
For a moment I thought she meant the tool but remembered she often drank vodka and orange juice.
“Sure,” I said.
She slumped at the kitchen table dropping her bag on the floor and kicking of her shoes, sighing with the relief of losing the heels. I could now wear heels for a few hours at a time thanks to the hours I had to play with my dressing up so understood the relief in taking them off.
I dropped a couple of ice cubes into the glass before pouring in the vodka which Blair liked to keep chilled in the fridge. Then I topped it up with up with the orange juice.
I sat next to her, making to take her hand but she snatched it away before taking a long gulp of the drink.
“What’s happened? Everything ok in the office?”
“Ok, tell me something,” she began, studying her drink.
“This pervy thingee you wear. What’s it called?”
“A chastity belt.”
Her shoulders pulled up in controlled anger. “What’s it called?”
“Erm, a CB6000,” I added with a blush, “the small model.”
It had seemed so exciting to be able to get my dick into the small version, extra humiliation if you like, but sharing that information with Blair at that precise moment made me want to curl up and die from shame.
“Right. Yeh. I thought it was. You had been going on about it when you got it. CB6000”
“But not recently!” I was defensive. She didn’t like me talking about my cross-dressing, chastity or cuckold fantasies. Since Christmas I had steered clear of them = not least because I was entertaining myself quite happily without her.
“The CB6000. So, this CB6000,” she spoke the term through clenched teeth as if it were a dirty word. “How many keys has it got?”
“Oh, I …” swallowing I tried to think of a way to buy time. “A couple I think.”
“A couple. Yes?”
I shrugged, making out I was trying to remember. “Yes I think so.”
Her eyes stayed on her drink, her head was nodding. “A couple.”
“Yes,” I said more confidently.
“Oh? So how come they have three keys?”
My jaw fell. I stared at her in silence.
Her eyes met mine. “You are not the only perv in town.”
Someone else had one? Near us? And Blair knew him? Wow! I needed to know more. “How do you mean love?”
“Don’t love me. Right? Just don’t love me.”
“I don’t understand. I guess some might come with three keys …”
“Shit up liar. You had me take the key in making me think I was helping you, make me part of your nasty little games. But you could get out of it anyway. You just played me for a fucking idiot.”
It is truly rare for Blair to swear. “No love …” Again I tried to take her hand but she snatched it away from me.
“So while I am at work you are mincing around here all day wanking off.”
“No,” I lied, keeping my gaze fixed on her. “So who else has …”
“Oh you’d love to know that wouldn’t you.”
“Well if you don’t want to say that’s fine,” I spoke softly wanting to drain the confrontation from our row. Christ I would love to know who else is playing with them.
She finished her drink, pushing the empty glass at me as the remaining orange juice slid down the glass. “Another.”
“Yes, of course.”
Hurriedly I fixed her another screwdriver. “I didn’t think I was alone in this. The internet is full of guys who …”
“Oh.” I was frozen on the spot. How much had she learned about the sissy, chastity cuckold scene?
She snatched the drink from my hand and took a long swig. “Bastard, lying to me like that. Making me look an idiot.”
“Love look I never use the spare key. I keep it in the box and always wait …”
“Liar.” Her eyes didn’t blink. They were huge, round and accusing.
“Well I need an emergency one here. I mean what if I have to go into hospital? eh?” She wasn’t convinced. “Sometimes it pinches and you have to get it off in a hurry and …”
“If you don’t stop lying I am going to walk out of that door right now.”
I nodded feeling genuinely ashamed.
“So, you,” she shook her head, drew in a deep breath and asked, “you, you know, you still got it on now?”
“Yes of course… really.”
Mesmerised by my actions she barely blinked as she watched me unzip and unhook my belt. I opened up my pants and pulled them down along with my underpants. The gold master lock slipped out of the top.
“I want to see it all. Now!”
I pulled my underwear down until my constrained dick was plain to see. I wasn’t sure whether to pull up my pants so I just waited.
She bent over to examine it better.
“So I hear once it is locked on you cannot get your dick out.”
“Erm no. No. Some people say you can, but I don’t see how. I have the smallest spacer so …”
“I don’t want to hear about all the pevy stuff. So there are two other keys?”
“Erm. Definitely one spare. Yes love. I keep it upstairs in case I …”
“No more lies! Go and get the two other keys.”
My mouth opened to say something but the words refused to form. My brain had turned to ice. In fetching them I would show myself as a complete liar in her eyes.
And why would she want to see them anyway?
“You want me to go through that front door now?”
“Get the other two keys. Do it!”
I nodded and walked slowly upstairs. I needed to give myself time to think. My stomach was spinning like a dishwasher. I felt sick yet aroused in my belt.
I heard her call out. “Hurry up. No stupid tricks!”
Jordan’s Diary entry 14
For a while she stared at the two keys I had laid on the table. Remaining silent I sat opposite her locked in the chastity cage. What was once the most exciting purchase I had ever made now felt scary. Blair had all three keys, though she had not touched the two I had presented her.
She sighed through her nose and shook her head before sighing again.
“So you think I am stupid?” her eyes were closed.
“No, love I …”
“Don’t say anything!”
There didn’t seem much to say. All I wanted was to unlock the damned CB6000 and get it off. For some reason with it on I didn’t feel like I could talk to her as her husband. As if it would insult her maybe, make things worse. Or did it somehow make me feel less equal to her?
She was certainly angry. Her face was tight, her lips squeezed together.
“You had me think I was going to work with your key and all along you had others.”
“Yes but I never took it off love I kept them as spares in case …”
She turned her head from raising her palm to halt my deceit.
“So you would spend all day wanking!”
“No!” I continued to lie.
“While I am hard at work in that awful office you are getting a cheap thrill.”
“You don’t have to work. We have enough. And with this shipping contract …”
“Let me see it.”
“See what?” I wondered what else she thought I had hidden. I thought of all my lingerie, wigs, heels, dresses and the prostate massager still in its vacuum packaging.
With a glare that could ice over a continent she pointed at my groin. “That”
“Oh yes.” She wanted to see the cage.
I rose slowly, my head running with reasons why I couldn’t show her the cage.
She continued to stare at my trousers as I unzipped them. “Are you sure love? I mean you don’t have …”
I pulled the zip down as slowly as I could, unfastening the top of my pants. For a long while I stood with my trousers just gaping open feeling part idiot and part helpless. How could I get out of this?
Lowering the trousers I was able to pull down the boxers at the front. The lock caught in the waist band before popping into view, clanking on the plastic elements of the cage. I froze awaiting her reaction.
“All of it. Show me all of it.”
My mouth dried as I lowered my pants further, exposing the entire transparent container in which my dick was shrivelling.
My eyes fixed on the calendar near the sink showing the countryside at various times of the year. I would have paid good money to have been in any of the scenes rather than here right now.
“It’s very small.”
She seemed to have lost her wrath so I broke in with, “It needs to be secure else it can pop out.”
She offered a finger towards it but then crooked and withdrew it as if thinking better about it.
“How long have you had it?”
“This one? A few weeks. I had a cheap Chinese one first.” I laughed trying to make a joke about it but Blair remained cold as she examined it. “But it hurt. So I spent some money on a real one.”
She nodded. “My friend says you cannot get it off without the key.”
“Yes. Yes. Erm, there is a ring around here so …”
“I don’t want to know.”
“Sorry.” I don’t know why I was apologising to her. I just wanted to get her on an even keel so we could discuss it. I was willing to say anything to calm her.
“And it is locked now.”
“Master lock,” she read the lock’s label.
“That’s the manufacturer. It is supposed to be bullet proof.”
“Really. That was their advert. Some guy shooting one on a gun range. “
“It does look pretty strong.”
She was definitely softening so I tried an opening. “So who was this other person who knew about chastity belts? I mean do I know them?”
Pulling the two small golden keys towards her she caught them in her hand.
I stood like a fool with my pants half down and my caged dick on display.
What happened next was so swift I didn’t have time to say anything until the front door slammed shut, its sharp sound echoing through the house.
She picked up her handbag, rose and, avoiding my eyes, marched to the hallway. Then she was gone.
Hauling up my pants and holding them with one hand I lumbered to the front room window in time to see her car pull out of the drive. And then she was gone.
I picked up my mobile from the hallway stand and speed dialled her. It went straight through to her answer machine. Where was she going?
Slumping on the sofa my hand stroked my CB6000 as if comforting myself. I tried to reason with my mind to hold back the blinding panic welling up inside me. The cage had been exciting arousing fun but now it was exactly what it had been designed for: a prison sealing in my cock.
I was trapped and scared.
I can remember now how I reasoned that Blair had good reason to be angry with me. I could see why she felt as she did. Maybe I could take her out to one of her favourite restaurants to balance it all out. Say sorry, put it behind us.
But the gnawing in my gut persisted. If she did something silly with the keys, like throw them away, then I would have to find a way to saw this damned toy off.
That was the answer. If I could get it off I would feel like her husband again. With it on I somehow felt inferior. I couldn’t bring myself to shout at her in the kitchen or even remonstrate.
So the first thing was to get it off before she returned. That would have been good. Show her I was free again. Laugh it off as a joke. Just one of those things.
There was a full tool kit in the garage. A full unused tool kit I should add, I am not exactly mister handy man. So I would find a metal saw and get to work.
My dick suddenly looked delicate and vulnerable in its translucent prison. How could you cut through it without endangering your penis? How would I be able to cut off the ring that was so tight about my ball sac?
I fingered the Master lock, feeling its formidable weight. Was it really indestructible? I even thought about an electric saw. But how could you use one so close to your testicals? You couldn’t! The entire device fits snugly around your scrotum and prick.
Relief! I heard her tyres on the drive. I closed my eyes and smiled with release. The tension evaporated. I would be unlocked and then I could start winning her over. Wow, was that a lesson learnt.
I did up my pants, tidied myself and waited in the hall for my saviour.
I saw her blond hair through the frosted glass and heard the keys jingle. Any moment now. A huge smile pushed at my cheeks. But why was she giggling so loudly?
I knew before the door opened it wasn’t her.
My daughter laughed. “Dad you look like a goldfish. Close your mouth before my friends see you.”
Too late. Four scantily dressed teenage girls bounced into the house laughing at my dazed face.
I found myself mumbling an apology and humiliated myself further by fleeing upstairs, leaving them laughing their heads off at my childish silliness.
Even now I don’t know why I couldn’t have got a grip on myself and been more cool. Just stood there.
Instead I sat on my bed feeling trapped and alone. Where was she!
For an age, maybe an hour, I brooded on my bed.
Clearly Blair just didn’t get it. By leaving me locked in the CB6000 I was totally trapped. I grew angry with her, rehearsing the words I would chuck at her when she returned. Now I can see that the real problem was the power transfer. Whereas I had once controlled everything in this house I was now not only not under her control but totally helpless. I couldn’t do anything until she returned and gave me back the key.
A commotion downstairs knocked me out of me self-pity. Lots of laughing and giggling. I found Chloe was now dressed as outrageously as her shameless pals. She wore her way too tight little skirt with a vest top that refused to reach her waist.
They about to leave and I could see the guilty looks on the other girl’s faces. Chloe simply bit her lip and stared at the ceiling as awaiting my comment.
“Chloe? You can’t go out dressed like that.”
One of the blond girls simpered something about them only going to back to her house to listen to music.
I didn’t feel like another fight that night so quietly asked my daughter, “How about you putting something a little more decent on. Hey?”
“Oh dad. Its ok. We, like, all dress like this. We are not walking the streets or anything.”
I looked around the teenagers, all of whom were at the age when they were experimenting with their sexuality. No skirt too short, no top too tight, no dress too slutty, the make up just a little too heavy.
“Darling I know but …”
“I’m not a kid anymore.”
At that moment Blair shot up the drive, parking with a squeal of tyres opposite the front door. At least now I would have an ally. The thought flashed through my mind that this would unite us, get us on an even keel.
Blair marched towards us, her eyes fixed on the ground. I could see she was still in a mood.
“Hi darling,” I said. She failed to offer any reply leading to a chill descending in the hallway. Everyone seemed embarrassed.
“Blair, I was just saying to Chloe that she needs to change …”
My wife took in her outfit with a stony face. “Where you going?”
“Chrissie’s to listen to music mum. That’s all. It’s no big deal. Don’t know why dad gets so hot under the collar about it.”
I smiles knowing Blair would back me up.
Blair nodded. “Ok. Back before one.”
“One?” Chloe glanced at me but when I didn’t respond her face lit up. “Wow. That is so cool. Thanks mum.”
In a few seconds they were gone. Thirty seconds later they drove away.
I swallowed. Blair still had not moved.
“Love I …”
She flashed up her palms. “Don’t. Just don’t, all right?”
Clip clopping briskly up the stairs she headed for her bedroom. Realising what was happening, I quickly followed. “Blair, love, please listen.”
“In the morning!” She slammed her door. I heard it lock.
I stood outside wondering what to do. “Erm Blair?”
“Yeh. We will chat tomorrow then. Great. It’s just …. Well ….” I laughed with embarrassment. “It is only that …. Hey love? I cannot get this thing off without the key.”
“In the morning!” I heard her turn on the en suite shower.
Returning to my room I tried to think of a different form of attack. I couldn’t. I went to bed wearing the damned chastity belt. Never had I felt so aroused yet so frustrated. As Blair wasn’t going to chat to me until the morning I found a short black nightie and matching panties to wear to bed.
In the darkness I had the most passive fantasies of my life. As I have shared with you, I had fantasised about guys before. Guys cuckolding me with Blair but now I was imagining her lover pushing his hard manhood towards me, with me hungry to please him.
I spent an age spurting into my panties. I even woke up aroused in the middle of the night. Hard inside the tiny cage and still spurting. This was beyond agony. It was wholly exasperating, and yet the frustration aroused me further, making me more frustrated.
So no surprises when I overslept. I went downstairs in my dressing gown only to find the house deserted. Chloe had gone to school and Blair to work.
I searched the kitchen counter to see if she had left the key. Nothing. Not anywhere.
I rang her mobile. It was an age before she answered. I could hear the car engine, she was on the car phone.
“Hi love it’s me. Really sorry about last night.”
“Just don’t hit me with the lies.”
“Just wondering where you left the key love, I cannot see it.”
I heard her indicator and the car slow down. It was a heart beating moment before she replied. “No. No, you won’t find it. None of the keys are anywhere where you can find them. Believe me. Not in a month of Sundays.”
I felt my mouth grow dry.
“It’s hurting me love. Sticking in to me.” I tried for the sympathy vote,
“We’ll talk when I get home. I don’t know what I think. All those lies. Making me look like a real idiot.”
“No love. I only kept the other keys as spares in case ….”
“We’ll talk tonight. And don’t ring me again!”
The line went dead.
Slumping on a kitchen chair I felt my tired eyes burn, ready for tears. I clenched my fists so tight they hurt. I wished I had never heard of the damnable CB6000.
I grew more and more passive as the day wore on, feeling more feminine and more submissive. I had read of this happening with guys trapped in the chastity cage for weeks but with me it was happening virtually overnight.
I spent the morning dressing as sexily as I could, tying myself up, and yet never able to satisfy myself. My arousal just grew until the need filled my being
I lifted my mobile and the house phone a number of times but didn’t dare ring her. She had said not to ring her and I felt a need to follow her instructions.
By mid afternoon I dressed as a guy again and put away all my girls stuff. I tried to work on the contract but couldn’t concentrate. All my thoughts were on my frillies stash upstairs. My mind wandered to scenarios where Blair would bring back her lover to further humiliate me. How I rubbed at my crotch as I thought of being over his knee.
Of course she didn’t have a lover, was she was too shy for that, but at that moment those were the thoughts filling my head.
I went through the internet sites desperate to see sexy girls in lingerie wriggling in bondage or being spanked. I visited every site I could think of. Barely seeing one video start before changing to a portfolio of pictures and then back to a new video site. Then I wandered through the sissy sites, particularly the story ones where studs over whelmed cute wives and subjugated the sissy husband. Now my head was spinning.
I guess if I could have somehow relieved myself down below I could have concentrated on thinking up an excuse for my behaviour and winning her over. But my brain remained foggy with need and desire.
I was totally in her hands and had to wait for her to return to even know what would happen next.
Blair came home after six looking oddly at ease with herself. I knew the moment I saw her that I was going to be let off the hook. That was how wrong I was. I had been in the chastity belt for almost a day and a half so was desperate for release.
“Love I …”
She twisted around on her heels in the hallway. “Take off my coat.”
Pulling it gently from her shoulders I didn’t realise right then how quickly I had obeyed her. I am not sure I had even taken off her coat before.
“Hang it up. Neatly!”
“Yes of course.”
I hung it up in the cupboard under the stairs neatly placing it between her other coats.
“Love I …”
“Now you be a good boy and go and make us some dinner. Ok? I have arranged for Chloe to finish her homework at Sams. Give us a chance to have a quiet little chat over something nice. One of your pasta dishes maybe?”
I followed her into the sitting room as she took out her new Tablet. She simply stopped and smiled at me. “I thought you had your instructions?”
“Well …I was. I thought maybe we could chat about …”
“Over dinner. Remember? I just told you. Do you need to have an instruction repeated like the office bimbo?”
Yep. She had said Office bimbo, just like that. Sort of offhand, with her eyebrows raised and a playful smile on her face.
Of course I didn’t know how to take it so I can recall jumping to attention and leaving her to her small computer.
I laid up the table in the dining room rather than kitchen diner as she liked special occasion meals. I opened a bottle of her favourite chardonnay, ( Puligny-Montrachet Premier Cru ‘Le Cailleret’ 2010 Domaine de Montille) at around £110 per bottle, before producing a simple starter of Mozzarella cheese with a light salad dressed covered in hazelnut oil.
It was when preparing it that I heard the front door close.
Thinking Cloe had returned earlier than expected I went out to greet her only to find Blair with a guy I had never seen before. If you think I am getting to the cuckold sissy husband fantasy being realised you are mistaken. I could see that immediately. He was pretty tall, unshaven but in an ill kempt way, not like some sexy film star. In fact his clothes were a dishelved reddish teeshirt over jeans. He was overweight and somewhat gawky. Definitely not Blair’s idea of a guy.
“Everything’s fine darling.” Blair said with a sweet smile. “Jerry is just here to help me out for a bit. Aren’t you Jerry?”
Jerry seemed slow and scratched his gut. “Yes Mister Connolly.”
He seemed a little shy as if he had spoken way too much and looked to Blair for assurance.
She patted his arm. “So darling. I need an hour?” She looked up at Jerry for confirmation.
“Oh yeh. Well. I dunno. Yeh. An hour. Sounds good.”
Then she smiled at me.
When I returned to the kitchen I stood next to the sink thinking through what had just happened. My wife had dismissed me in front of some young guest and I had made no attempt to push her on what was happening in my own home.
I recall how I rubbed at my groin. Just how passive could a guy get wearing one of these damn chastity belts?
It was actually an hour and a half later when he left. Blair had told me to delay dinner as it was all a bit complicated and jerry needed more time. I hate to say it but I didn’t even ask her what was a bit complicated. I desperately needed her to unlock me and that was all that mattered, the entire planet in my orbit was about getting released.
So we sat down at dinner and I want you to know how much I had pushed out the boat. Candles were lit, the best table cloth unearthed and laid out. The Chardonnay in a cooler bucket and me wafting around like a worried waiter.
“Tell me about your day darling,” she said as she cut a slice of the Batard loaf and smeared it with butter before running it through the oils in the salad.
I swallowed feeling nervous. Of course I had spent most of the day dressed as a girl, reading porn and unable to make myself cum. The more aroused I became the more porn I watched or read. The more I watched the more I became aroused. I had tried my favourite self-bondage positions whilst rubbing hard at the bed but, of course to no avail. But I simply told Blair about the Singapore Container contract. “Wow its getting messy you know.”
Even now I can see her looking so sexy in her blouse and short skirt, her head lolling to her shoulder with her blond sexy hair falling down over face. She seemed to be absorbed until she burst out laughing.
“Darling?” I asked. It now seemed natural to refer to her constantly as ‘darling’.
“You take the biscuit, you do.”
“I er, well, why is that?”
Carefully slicing the mozzarella cheese she thought through her next statement. “Well darling. Suppose I know that you haven’t been working on your overseas contract today? Eh?”
At that point I was still reasonably calm. Just a little put out at her accusation. “Oh?”
She chewed for a moment before taking a sip of the ludicrously priced wine. “Mmmm. Gorgeous. Yes darling,” she was now empathising the word darling, though she was quite calm and as far I could tell in very good spirits. “Yes. Oh, do you remember us getting Keylogger For Kids? A couple of years back when Cloe started using Facebook every night?”
Nodding I replied, “Of course. Yes. For Chloe …” I think I stopped talking as I realised what she had done. “Blair?”
Nodding, her eyes grew narrow with amused mischief. “Uh-huh. So whilst you were busy with your business contract I guess some burglar broke in here. He then took over your computer and you know what?”
My mouth had grown dry. I knew I should have been shouting at her for breaking my privacy but the damned CB6000 had a grip on my senses.
“You don’t? Well,” she smirked girlishly. “He went out on the internet to look for lingerie. Sexy but constrictive.”
I think I groaned, feeling a little feint.
“Then he logged onto those pervy groups for men seeking dom partners. What else was there? Deborah something or others Hotel site? Yes?”
“Yes Deborah Ford.”
“Ah yes. And ‘A submissive Sissy?” She giggled. “What a title eh? And those Yahoo groups …”
“Please Blair, please I …”
It was then I tried my fight back. Without confidence I said, “you shouldn’t put software like that on my computer. Its private and …”
“You had us put it on Chloe’s didn’t you? Eh? And it was me who insisted on you taking it off.”
I nodded, feeling ashamed. “Well you have to be careful. There are these weird guys around …”
She laughed, putting a napkin over her mouth. “Are there?” She finally said. “Are there really? Weird guys? Maybe those who go around the house all day in women’s underwear.”
I was close to tears. “Darling please. I am sorry.” I even told her I wouldn’t do it again and at that point I truly meant it.
“Perhaps I can arrange that, “ she said before continuing to eat.
I wanted to know what meant but dared not say anything.
“Why don’t you sip your wine for a few minutes while we wait for the main course? You can ask me how my day was.”
“Yes darling. My mouth was so dry that the glass even clung to my lips when I tried to drink from it. “Well, dear how was your day?”
Pushing her empty glass towards me I immediately got the message and filled it up. Once she had taken a gulp from the refreshed glass she said, “Well. Let me see. First of all a hunk came in a and ravished me. This was when you were reading your stories this morning I believe.”
Being in total shock it was a moment before I realised she was joking. Using the subject matter of the ‘hot wife’ in the stories I read.
“So then two hunks came in and ravished me while I told them about my sissy husband. That’s the term isn’t it? ‘Sissy husband’?”
“Well I guess some people …”
“Uh-huh. By then I was so exhausted from all the fucking that I had to go out for lunch.”
Oddly even her mickey taking story of cuckoldry turned me on. I knew it was to indulge her and forced a quiet laugh. “So you have read them,” I ventured trying to take back control of the conversation.
“Not really. A bit way too out there for me. But it helped the day pass quickly enough. Watching you at work, so to speak.” She used her fingers to put bunny ears around the ‘ at work’ words.
“You don’t seem to mind,” I offered, though I must have realised I was clutching at straws.
“Mind? Mind?” She repeated. “Now that is interesting. Do I mind? Why not clear the plates like a good boy and fetch me my dinner and then I will tell you.”
I was so aroused my head was swirling. My fettuccine pasta with chicken in white sauce was laid onto very hot plates before being served to her. She hated luke warm meals.
“Thank you darling. But oh no.” She squealed like a little girl. “Look.” She raised the white wine bottle. She had actually drunk it all! I think I might have had about one glass, maybe a little more. She was clearly already drunk.
“Yes, yes. The same again?”
“Why not. Good boy. You might be allowed to stay up late tonight.”
Once again her words haunted me after I left the kitchen. I opened the second bottle hearing her say, “you might be allowed to stay up late tonight,” with a naughty school girl look in her eyes.
At that moment I didn’t have a clue what was happening and couldn’t bring myself to ask.
So during the main course she hiccupped, laughed like a teenager and said “so sissy what’s it like in your chastity beltee sorta think a majig?”
Though I knew she was teasing I felt it wise to answer honestly. “It doesn’t hurt now.”
“No. So I hear. So my little boy was lying when he said it pinched him? Wanted me to rush home from my work to free his little dickee.”
“I, no, I. Well. Yes. It can catch. And it can be painful. I had learnt to wear the smallest fitting at the top which stops it pinching so much.”
“Swirling her wine around before her now glassy eyes she said, “but my friend tells me that once it is fitted properly then it will be fine.” Her grin was as wide as I had ever seen it. “You could even be kept in it forever.”
She laughed at my shock.
“Darling. Who is this lady?”
Drunkenly she tutted before waving a finger at me. “Naughty, naughty. You wouldn’t want her to know you wear one? Would you? Eh? With your wife holding all the keys?”
She tapped her nose. “So mum’s the word. All secret, secret, secret.” She sat up straight as if trying to be sensible while drunk. “So you have been locked in it for over a day and you notice anything?”
“Very frustrated darling. Really need it off now.”
“Uh huh. Sure. Yes. But notice anything else?”
Trying to find another quality I felt lost. What more could you say than frustrating?
“I mean, “ she said examining my reaction. “Doesn’t it make you more passive? Less like a forceful little prat? Hmmm?”
“Well yes, I guess it does.”
“Uh huh. Yeh. So I hear. Amusing eh?”
“I don’t know why it happens but …”
“Oh of course you don’t. You are the only guy I know who doesn’t know anything works. The only man I know who doesn’t know how to fix a car. You are the only guy I know who doesn’t know anything about computers. You are the only guy I know who doesn’t fix anything in fact. We always have a guy in to do that.” She toyed with the following words. “I mean a real man in the house to do real man’s work. Don’t we?”
“Blair, look I think you are going a little too far now.”
Slapping her fingers over mouth she exclaimed a theatrical, “Oh no! You don’t say.”
Closing my eyes I just swallowed. I sat there feeling more helpless than ever before. Blair wasn’t being nasty, it was just that she controlled the conversation and the direction in which it went.
“So,” she mused, “the more you are in that thingee the more passive you get, yes?”
“I have said.” I dare not show any irritation.
“Uh huh. And you cannot get it off?”
“You know that. I told you.”
“I guess not being a do it yourself type of guy you wouldn’t be able to use any tools to escape it.”
“It isn’t that Blair. Honestly.”
“Dear. I like it when you refer to me as darling or dear. Let us say my first name is out of bounds right now.”
I recall how I just stared at her until her drunken smile seemed to take away the shock of what she had said. Of course I didn’t know at that time if she was joking or not, but felt it wise to play along until she freed me. “Yes ok.”
She giggled and held her finger behind her ear as if to say: speak louder.
“I said yes darling.”
“Good. So you cannot cut it off?”
“Well it’s not just me who can’t. No one can. It is too tight around the penis. Really it is.”
“Ok honey, just relax. The important point is that you cannot release it nor can you cut it off. Good. And the lock is made by Master so cannot be broken, and is nigh on impossible to pick.”
“I told you. They even shoot at it in one advert.”
Draining her glass she pushed it towards me. I knew what to do and immediately refilled it. It is rare for Blair to drink this much at home.
“Please darling can we now take it off?”
Seeing my embarrassment she appeared to take pity and me and said softly, “Well first I have a few changes to make around here.”
At that point I was shocked. Apart from choosing the house we lived in I think I had made all the decisions in our lives. But all I reasoned at that point was that I needed to get the chastity belt unlocked. After that everything could be discussed.
“What sort of changes darling?”
“Well,” she stretched out the ‘well’ and flushing with discomfit. “It seems to me that I have been getting the short deal around here. Whilst you spend all day online looking at your pervy stuff and then playing with yourself I am in work.”
“You like work. You said so.”
“Oh sure, she flapped a drunken hand at me. “I like the hustle and bustle and being with people. The guys can be a bit Neanderthal but that’s quite exciting too, once you get used to it. Anyways …”
That was the first time she had referred to the guys in the office as anything other than pain in the arses.
“Anyways,” she continued, “and you never have anything for me. So from now on that’s what you will do. You will be released to only to service me.”
I think my jaw must have hung down like a real dope because she simply giggled at my appearence. “My friend tells me that her husband is always ready for her. He spends all week locked up and keeps her happy on weekends. Good uh?”
“Who is it? I mean how did you meet …”
“Oh it was girl talk until she started bragging about her guy. I think the other girls thought it crazy as they like their guys to be in charge. Most women do. But we all thought it a real hoot. But I knew about what you get up to so I guess I just thought this could suit me too.”
“But she leaves him with a key surely?”
She laughed. “No. Dolt! Haven’t you been listening? No. He has to put on kiddies pyjamas with bunnies and rabbits every night at seven and then gets sent to bed whenever my friend desires.” Her eyes narrowed over her glass. “Keeps him on his toes apparently.”
I swallowed. I of course have always indulged in humiliating fantasies but the thought of standing in childish pyjamas at seven o’clock waiting to be sent to bed by one’s wife in real life felt sickening.
“Not really my thing darling.” I tried a brave smile.
“Well, we all know about your thing. And I do not like it. Mincing around here in your frillies. Anyways you need to keep listening.”
She hadn’t finished!
“No more lies.” She was now more serious, angry even. Her eyes flashing. “That has to end. I have heard enough to last me a life time. You will not be able to lie to me again. Got that?”
With all my heart I said, “Yes darling. Totally agree. I hated lying to you …”
“Enough. Stop. No more lies. I have said. That means more to me than the sex to be honest. I am just not going to look like a fool again.” She softened with a grin playing on her kissable lips. “From now on it will be your turn.”
With that she stood up, staggered a little on her heels and giggled. “Right you. Upstairs right now! Little boy! Sort the table and kitchen out in the morning.”
“Yes darling. Right. Shouldn’t you release me now so I can shower before we …”
“Yuk no. That stays on. I haven’t worked out what I will do when I take it off. You, being you, are too damned awkward to let me put it back on. That is my power. So it stays on until tomorrow night.”
“But I thought I was going to, you know.” Blair hated dirty words so I was looking for a pleasant euphemism. “You know, going to pleasure you.”
She giggled. “You got it. I just trust your tongue is in fine fettle.” She laughed at the use of the words ‘fine fettle.’
We started up the stairs with my mind in turmoil and Blair leaning against me for support.
“Of course,” she whispered, licking erotically at my ear. “If your tongue feels a bit lazy there is my Rabbit in my bedroom. You can run and fetch that. I have bought new batteries for it. You will be very busy until Chloe comes home.”
Oddly I was looking forward to some femdom in the bedroom though Blair was not to turn out to be one hundred percent dominant on that first night. She was still feeling her way.
But the real shock was the following morning when I discovered what Jerry had done in my office the previous evening.
Blair is not one for taking the initiative in sex games and has always felt her knees weaken when guys take control. I guess that was how she used to see me when I was setting up on my own all those years ago.
So her idea of femdom was to simply lay there, eyes closed whilst I did what I could with my fingers and tongue.
For a while it was a sort of messy waste of time, and she would whisper, ‘faster’ or ‘higher.’ Finally after a gruelling twenty minutes when my tongue was aching I felt her pulsate and her thighs wound around me head. She grunted words which became less easy to decipher until finally her pelvis froze and then all hell broke loose around my ears.
She held me so tight I couldn’t lick or finger her before sliding beneath the sheet and dismissing me with a flap of her wrist. I made to crawl into the bed next to her but her arm tightly held the sheet down.
“No. Your own bed. Go.”
I kissed her cheek. “Yes darling. Was that ok?”
“Yes, yes. Thank you,” she said dreamily. “I am sure you will improve with practice.”
With practice! I had just spent all that time satisfying her and all I get is an ‘it will improve with practice.’
So as you can imagine that night I returned to my bedroom feeling very upset. I was so tired I fell into bed cursing her. Once this damned chastity belt was off I would sort out the situation in this house.
In the early hours I awoke desperate craving to cum. My dick had hardened painfully inside the cage and my all at sea brain had some mad idea I could make it cum and gain satisfaction.
I humped the pillow until I felt it spurt but remained on as high a submissive, sexually frustrated plateau as before. Even worse, maybe.
This was infuriating I told myself but nothing could be done until she brought back the key. While the CB6000 was locked on my dick then my brain seemed too passive to think straight.
In the morning I tried to be helpful, seeking to remain Blair’s good side. She was sweet enough, telling me she could do everything and that I should go and watch the news as usual.
Chloe giggled when I bought her toast. “Aw dad! Look mum, daddy’s doing breakfast.”
My wife simply told her to hurry up.
It left me feeling sort of vacant and helpless. I wanted to make a contribution but didn’t know what. I was grateful when Blair told me to go upstairs to collect her bag.
On returning I found Blair hurriedly ushering Chloe into the hall calling back to me. “Make some headway into that Singapore contract dear. You said you would.”
“Yes darling,” I replied eagerly.
I saw them off and once they disappeared passed the hedgerows I raced up to my room. As I have said there are some really sexy lingerie items I bought leading up to Christmas, an early present for me. One I felt I deserved following my success in selling my company. I had a compulsion to try on this one piece body shaper stat I hadn’t even opened. I thought with shaping tights beneath it then it would give me an electric, erotic charge.
With a pair of heels, my favourite wig and light makeup I went downstairs.
I was desperate to catch up on my favourite web sites but knew that I had to find a way around ‘Keylogger for Kids.’ The last thing I wanted was for Blair to catch me out as she had done so easily yesterday. To be honest I am not exactly a wiz at computers but can usually find my way around. I knew I could get into safe mode and work from there.
So then the shocks started.
I hadn’t grasped by how much my life would change, even the previous evening when I spent all that time bringing Blair to orgasm before being dismissed like the home help.
What I saw in my downstairs office had me gawping.
On sticky note pressed on to the screen was a simple memo: “Your new user name and password.”
New user name? What the hell was she doing? I can recall being so shocked I had to sit down and re read the note. Worse, the user name was ‘littleboy’ and the password was ‘mummys_little_helper’
I could tell straight away she had learnt this idea from that odd ball friend of hers. The one who kept her husband locked up in a chastity belt but also was made him wear children’s pyjamas.
This was not my fetish!
I booted the screen to see two logons. One was marked administrator. So the first thing I did was to fill out that one. Yep you guessed it. It would not accept my old password.
So I then tried to fill in the blank one with my old username and password. Nothing. It span back to the same opening page offering the administrator and normal login.
What was she doing letting Jerry tamper with my work computer?
Feeling angry and defeated I put in the ‘littleboy’ username followed by the humbling ‘mummy’s little helper.’
Looking back I now it actually gave me a thrill. For once in my life I was actually forced into a humiliating act. There wasn’t any choice or planning here. I was following someone else’s’ strategy. So the emotions were conflicting, like atoms banging around in a shell. There was a thrill, aided by the damned chastity belt but at the same time I hated being controlled by someone else.
Then the screen flashed up and I actually gasped out loud. It was a sky blue scene with unicorns and childlike figures on it. Worse, as it launched there was a pretty little tinkle of bells.
Whereas my work display had been cluttered with every icon imaginable this screen was now totally clear. There wasn’t even the recycle bin or ‘my computer’. Nothing.
The only icon along the bottom bar was on the right near the clock it read Team Viewer in blue. As it was the only program open to me I clicked it to see a blue box labelled ‘remote control computer not on line’. I right clicked it but wasn’t offered anything. It offered me only the cross so I pressed that and it simply reduced the program to the task bar. I could launch it but not do anything with it then I could minimise it again.
I pressed the START and all that appeared was ‘Word’, ‘Excel,’ ‘Internet Explorer’ and ‘Jordan’s Documents’.
How could I reach the hidden folders with my favourite stories and pictures? I had spent years collecting and hiding them.
I opened Jordan’s Documents to see two folders, ‘work’ and ‘home’. In ‘work’ all my work files resided but nothing else. There was nothing at all in the home folder.
I right clicked everywhere but nothing came up.
Standing up to stamp around the room I just simply just over. I had forgotten I was wearing five inch stiletto heels.
You can probably imagine by then how much my head was spinning. Had she shown Jerry all this? She was stupid enough to. She loved playing the bimbo even though she was in fact pretty smart.
This was all going too far.
I went upstairs to try and play with myself on the bed. I felt, quite rightly as I was to learn later, that if I could cum properly then I could clear my head. But even dressed as I was I couldn’t achieve anything.
I knelt on the floor before the mirror in my new lingerie and wig cursing my lunatic wife for this mess. Even though I was saying to myself there would be an unholy row when she came home I guess deep down I knew I was still going to have to behave when she returned in order to win her over.
So by eleven o’clock, rather than being at the height of some bondage game or playing online whilst dressed I had actually showered and redressed in my guy clothes.
My hand was shaking when I took a long draught of cool water in the kitchen.
Then the idea hit me. I knew enough about computers and Windows to know that all I had to do was use control-alt delete to reboot the computer to Safe Mode. Maybe from Safe Mode I could sort things out.
It felt like a complete reprieve. An escape hatch for a trapped rabbit.
I was actually smiling as I sat before the computer ready to push the required buttons. For the first time in days I was about to get one over my foolish wife and start getting my life back.
I pressed the famous three buttons all at once and …. nothing. I pressed them again. Nothing.
When I say nothing I just heard a single bell tolling as if indicating I was doing something wrong. I was going to get used to those infantile sounds over the coming weeks but right then it all seemed temporary. A mistake.
Finally I started Internet Explorer. I could use that to download Chrome or Firefox and create secret browsers. But first I was aching to get onto my various online sites like Deborah Ford’s the Hotel see what was new.
I think you have guessed it. For some reason I hadn’t predicated it.
A sky blue and white screen flashed up with the logo: ‘Cyber Mummy Safety.’ Below it read: ‘this site is considered too mature for your current age. If you think there has been an error please contact an adult to rectify your problem.’
It came up with the same kiddy sounding bell.
Infuriating. Just as a test I entered the words ‘sexy girl short skirts’ into the search browser and was offered a series of hits with most washed out. Over the washed out ones were a similar warning restriction to the Cyber Mummy Safety logo above. I wouldn’t be able to access them until someone reset my age restriction.
Then the phone rang.
I lifted the receiver in a daze. “Yeh?”
“Eh? Oh! Blair. Look, love, this is crazy. I cannot access anything on my computer…”
“You can do all you need to do right now. If you need any more then let me know. I can add programs from here.”
“First I need to get online and … what do you mean you can add programs from there?”
“Well Jerry is no woman’s idea of a good time but he knows all the geeky stuff. I told him how we were having young kids staying with us so all the computers had to be made out of bounds to kids. Unless of course they have the right password. Say, like me and Chloe.”
Chloe! My own daughter can access the internet and I cannot? I sounded a friendly laugh. “Very funny darling. Yes. So if you could just, you know, just sort this out.”
“Apparently what Jerry has done is unbreakable without the passcodes. Clever huh? If you cannot logon as,” she giggled, “an adult then you stay in toy town with the other children.”
My head was bowed and my brain screaming. I had to maintain a grip so could I explain to her, as patiently as I could: “Look Blair, I know what you are doing. But fetishes are different for different people. Different strokes for different folks. This friend of yours and her husband may live in a sort of B.D.S.M. world but dressing as a kid doesn’t do anything for me.”
I can recall the silence that followed as if it were yesterday. Even then I had started to fear her. She seemed to have all the cards and the best I could hope for was to be a recipient of her good will.
“Let us both understand something very clearly young man.” She had lowered her voice, sounding very irritated with me. “This is not one of your pervy games. Yuk to that. This is me knowing that you are both working and not lying to me. No deceit, remember? So you sit there like a good boy and sort out your contract. Because I am sick of your excuses for not finishing it.”
“Blair love, I get it, I really do but we need to talk this through.” I felt tears sting my eyes. “Please Blair come home lunch time. I hate this. It is terrible.”
I actually heard her swallow so I know she was affected by my misery. Then she cleared her throat. “Jordan you do as you are told and we will see tonight. Ok?”
“I seem to recall I warned you about calling me by first name. Do you remember Jordan?”
Suddenly I was no longer on the verge of crumbling into tears. I was about to make the biggest mistake of my life. I guess it was inevitable least that’s how I view it now. But I wish I could have controlled myself. If only we can go back.
So suddenly I was shouting down the phone like a mad man.
“Blair! You have taken leave of your senses. I am not into this at all. It is all mad. I think you are growing crazy. I am just not into this. You cannot just keep me locked up like this and,” I swallowed, despising myself for admitting what she had done, “taking away my computer access.”
I was about to threaten her with the police, but knew before the words emerged that I wouldn’t dare involve them. How belittling that would be, to admit I had been locked up in a chastity belt and denied access to adult services by my wife.
My head was thumping like an engine when I finished.
The line was dead for a long moment before she spoke quietly. “You in front of your computer right now?”
“Ok don’t touch the mouse thingee or the keyboard.”
“Ok.” Was she about to reset it so that I could use it again?
The TeamViewer box down on the taskbar jumped into life and announced: connected to remote control computer.
My heart leaped into my mouth as the mouse arrow danced around my screen. It hit START and then SWITCH USER.
At that moment watching someone else control my computer was one of the sexiest, most submissive things I have seen. Like being spoon fed but not having any say in it.
My computer was controlled by another person who was not even in the same town.
The screen reverted to the front end log on screen with the administrator box.
“What you doing darling?” I was careful not to use her Christian name.
“Watch and learn little boy. Remember no touching!” She giggled at that line making me feel even more helpless.
“Yes, yes, all right darling.”
She filled in the user name with ‘Miss Sterling.’ That was her maiden name which made me feel aggrieved.
In the password box I watched a string of asterisk appear.
The screen flashed, turned the familiar deep blue of Windows 7 rather than the child like sky blue of my screen and the customary windows opening theme sounded. Far more reassuring than my jingling bells opening.
This time the screen was flush with the expected Microsoft icons. It looked like a Desktop display of a fairly new computer with just a few icons.
She launched the internet browser and went straight out to Amazon. There she used my user name of Jordan Connelly with my password to enter the site. I had long ago shared my passwords with her. Hence my computer was now hers. I vowed not to make that mistake in the future. And true to my vow I haven’t, because since that time I have never been allowed to have my own passwords.
She entered into the Amazon search window: ‘children’s pyjamas for adults.’
I was mesmerised as a host of various items came into view. Mostly with young kids wearing animal Onsies and the like. She then added ‘bunny’ to the display and a fresh set of pictures revealed bunny rabbit outfits for kid’s bed times.
“No,” I said into the phone. “Please, darling. This isn’t my fetish. I am more into girly stuff.”
“Be quiet little boy, you are putting me off. Ah this one.”
I saw her tap on a pink Onsie bunny outfit and panicked. “No please. Stop. This isn’t my thing at all. I …”
I had automatically grabbed the mouse and was desperately rolling it around looking to hit the cross in the top right hand corner of the window. My hand was shaking too much. Suddenly I could no longer move the mouse. Had I pulled its lead out?
A small box flashed along the top of the screen. “Teamviewer keyboard and mouse input disabled.”
I knocked my chair over as I stood up, still with the phone gripped hard in my hand.
Once again I watched her using my screen but this time I was totally helplessly as the mouse wavered over the order button. It chose size: height 170 cm and was added to the basket. Being short was always an advantage in buying girls clothes but right now it meant she could have bought me virtually any large size in children’s wear.
“Darling?” I was so dry throated my voice was hoarse. I tried to speak more clearly: “Darling.”
“Busy, honey kins. Just give me a moment.”
Pink adult bunny slippers appeared in the place of the bunny Onsie pyjamas. They were heated! I slumped into my chair as they were added to the basket just before express delivery was selected and the order sent.
“Honey? Honey? Little boy?”
“I er, I , I …”
“My friend said it would be like this at the beginning. Apparently I have to be firm with you else you will think it is just a game. Worse she warned you will think it is your game. Your little game to be played by your rules. So have you learnt anything my little bunchkins?”
“I, darling, I just ….”
“I know. You are speechless. So why not get that contract sorted so I can look at it when I get home. Yes?”
Before I could answer I saw my computer screen flashing and in seconds it was back to the logon screen.
“You know what to enter don’t you sweetcheeks?”
“We need to talk really. I just cannot get my mind around this at all.”
“Don’t you worry your little head about anything. Just think about what happened last night and how you intend to improve upon your performance. Ok?”
“Yes darling, of course.”
Then she was gone and I was left staring at the twin logons, one for Blair as administrator and one for me as a user. I recall staring at the screen for a long time before logging back in with the ‘littleboy’ username followed by the excruciating ‘mummy’s little helper.’
The bells tinkled and fresh infantile screen flashed up win primary colours.
Jordan’s Diary entry 18
Much of that day was spent on the Singapore contract. I have already told you how little I needed to do so I was simply spinning out the work for the benefit of Blair who was watching every word I typed form the comfort of her own office. Within a couple of hours I was finished and would need just a single pass to check the additional notes.
With the knowledge that Blair was using the Keylogger for Kids to observe what I was doing I ensured that every ten minutes or so I would do some simple editing. That way she would hopefully believe me to busier than I actually was. Ye Gods, by the middle of the afternoon I was beside myself with rage. I couldn’t do anything without fearing she was checking my computer activity.
Normally, as you are aware, I would spend my day dressing in sexy women’s clothing and perhaps play bondage games. Now with the chastity belt preventing me from cumming and my wife holding the keys I had to work – well pretend to work. No wonder I was livid.
I decided if we couldn’t resolve this, then I would threaten divorce. That would shake her.
Every so often I would torture myself by running my hands over my shapewear and lingerie collection.
Having marshalled my arguments so that I would carefully open the discussions with my wife without being too bellicose, I was surprised by how nervous I was when I heard her keys in the front door.
It was like that feeling you get waiting to go into an exam room where your gut tingles and you feel a sudden urge to urinate.
‘Calm, calm,’ I whispered to myself as I emerged into the hallway with a fixed smile that I hoped would be welcoming.
“Darling,” was as far as I could get.
Standing behind her, appearing just as self-conscious as the previous day, was the hulking, over-weight Jerry. He even wore the same faded red tee shirt and his beard had an extra day of rough growth. This time he had a grey shoulder bag packed full of what appeared, judging from the bulges, to be boxes.
“Ah Jordan. Good. You remember Jerry?”
“Hi Jerry.” I said my mouth going dry.
“Hi mister Connolly.” He tried a smile and then nervously bowed his head.
“Now Jerry and I were having a good little chat this afternoon about our nieces. You know, the ones who were are coming to stay with us?”
She widened her eyes until I agreed I knew about the nieces who were coming to us. As you know that was simply a ruse Blair had used to have Jerry lock down my computer and inflict that childish nonsense all over my screen.
“You made some pertinent points, didn’t you Jerry?”
“Yes Mrs Connelly.”
“Oh please. Outside the office always call me Blair.”
He reddened a bit the way teenagers do when they are being addressed by a stunning, sexy, older woman. Only Jerry was in his mid-twenties. What a loser!
“Anyway,” She paused staring at me. “Aren’t you going to take my coat?”
“Oh yes, yes darling. Of course.”
I found myself hopping across to her to ease her coat from her shoulders.
“And hang it up please. Nice and neat.”
Gritting my teeth at the indignity I kept my eyes fixed on the floor. In the place of praise was abject humiliation. She was speaking to me as if I were a servant, all in front of this overweight apology for a man.
But all I whispered was, “yes darling.”
As I returned from the coat cupboard she was leading Jerry into my office. I felt violated. That was my room. They didn’t even bother to ask.
The screen still displayed one of the embarrassing kiddie scenes. I felt my cheeks flush as the immature man took it in.
“Oh yes.” Blair said. “Just let me relog so you can do your work.”
“Thank you Mrs Connolly.”
“Now, now Jerry. Blair when we are outside of the office remember?”
He shrugged. “Sorry Blair, yes.”
“Jordan, you haven’t asked our guest if he would like some refreshment. A beer maybe?”
“Oh no Mrs Connolly, erm Blair. No. Need a clear head for this sort thing. All to do with IP addresses and stuff. Gets a bit serious in there at this level.”
Blair put a hand on his shoulder and Jerry seemed close to melting through the floor. “Wow aren’t you clever? Jordan and I are such dolts with computers. Aren’t we Jordan?”
“Yes darling,” I agreed.
“So best leave you to it. Now Jordan. Jerry likes his coffee milky with three sugars. Isn’t that right?”
“Yes please Blair.”
“And a plate of biscuits too. Keep up the energy. Oh, I will have a camomile tea Jordan.”
“Best serve us on a tray, yes?”
Serve them? Serve them on a tray? As helpless and humiliated as I felt I spurted into my underwear. For the first time in hours I was suddenly aware of my imprisoned dick. I was actually adjusting myself to the chastity belt’s presence. I hadn’t felt any irritations or sharp pinches, it now just lived there.
“Yes, yes of course darling.”
Blair smiled. It wasn’t the smile of a superior dominatrix more of a mother proud of a well behaved child.
I made my way to the kitchen in a state of shock.
“Oh and Jordan?”
My wife had followed me and placed a hand on my arm as I opened the kitchen door.
I was suddenly aware of her extraordinary sexy legs in their short, suit skirt, her 3 inch erotic heels and of her rounded breasts held in perfect display beneath her crisp transparent blouse by a bra edged in lace. I could ravish her there and then, except of course I couldn’t. I was locked in to the CX6000 by her.
“Oh don’t look so worried Jordan. You have been very good.”
I glanced over her shoulder at my office doorway wondering if that dolt Jerry could hear us. With relief I decided he couldn’t from down the hallway with my pc runnning.
“Give me your mobile phone.”
Her palm was held out invitingly.
“Erm yes of course.” I plucked it from the cupboard unit near the front door where we all kept out phones and handed it to her.
“Thank you,” she smiled. “Good boy.”
“Blair look, we really need to …”
“Fancy me forgetting a smart phone eh?”
She saw my quizzical expression and giggled. “Silly. You have probably been on it all day, visiting your pervy sites. Oh! Oh Jordan, I can see from the expression on your face you had forgotten you could do that with your smart phone.”
Feeling an urgent need to defend myself from her accusation of stupidity I blurted out, “but I never use it for the internet. You know I could never get my head around that phone.”
“Well, even little girls can do that Jordan.”
The remark floored me. I felt so defeated. All day long I had access to the damned internet but hadn’t realised it.
She actually laughed as she took my phone into my office. I heard her chatting to Jerry but decided the best course of action for me was to serve them their tea and coffee as quickly as I could.
I was soon wishing I hadn’t.
Jerry was sat in my office chair, swinging back and fore as if he it was his. Blair had pulled up a chair to sit alongside him. The first thing I noticed was how her short skirt had rode right up her legs. I was desperate to have her.
I laid the tray on a nearby desk and served them their drinks.
At least Jerry had the manners to say thank you. Blair simply sat back indicating a place on my desk for me to place her tea.
“Now then Jerry, why don’t you explain to my husband here how the new phone will work.”
New phone? Oddly I didn’t have a bad feeling at those words, I was simply intrigued by the mention of a new phone. I realise now that, even at that early stage, panic alarms should have been sounding. Perhaps as loudly they were a few seconds into Jerry’s explanation.”
“Ah yes Mister Connolly.”
“Oh, Jordan is perfectly fine, Jerry.”
“Ah yes. Well you see …”
I gasped and took a step back, it couldn’t be. Jerry was holding up a bright pink, smart phone. The colour a teenage girl might use.
“So Jordan. Your wife was worried about your nieces being able to get adult material on the web.”
“Oh Jerry you are so modest.” She stretched out the word ‘so’ until Jerry grinned from ear to ear and his cheeks darkened. “You warned me remember? There I was thanking Jerry for his help with our computers and you know what? He comes straight out with ‘what about their smart phones’. Of course we were just too damned silly to realise. Our innocent little nieces could have some horrible pervs contact them on that or be able to accidently see some pervy stuff on the internet. So he came up with this idea. Tell him Jerry. But speak slowly so we can both understand.”
A mischievous grin lit up her face, inviting me to smile with her. And oddly it did seem amusing that we played at being so silly for him. Scary maybe, but amusing.
“Well Mister Connolly, er Jordan. What it is, is that I have put the sim card from the old phone into this one and then locked it to it.”
“Locked it to it?”
“Oh Jerry,” giggled Blair. “I am afraid you must explain it all very slowly to Jordan. Not exactly a techie are you dear?”
“No darling.” I felt breathless as if the air had been sucked out of the room. She had taken control of my computer and now what was she doing with my phone?
He coughed. “Well to put it in words of one syllable …”
I felt two feet tall.
“… the simcard cannot now be taken out of the phone without me unlocking it. Prevents your niece buying another phone and putting it in that one. You know what kids are like.”
I am sure my jaw was hanging open.
“Oh Jerry, Jordan knows all about bratty kiddies and their naughty behaviour.”
“So anyways, the phone now has the Cyber Mummy Safety ap installed on it from the root. Erm You know about rooting a phone?”
I felt aggrieved, as if I was being shown up by a guy who thought he was smart ass. Yet I still had to admit, “Not really.”
“No. Thought not. Well rooting involves getting right down at the core of the phone. Into the bios. Means only I can change it. Blair thought it would be best if the owner of the phone knew there was nothing they could do to change it.”
Blair cut in with, “prevent them trying to fiddle and then breaking it. Lord knows how I would punish a child who broke a nice phone like that.”
My eyes closed when I opened them I found Jerry still filling my new life with horror.
“So the software will prevent access to unsuitable sites. It will send a file to Mrs Connolly’s phone so she can constantly keep an eye on what is happening on her niece’s phone. Blair will be able to restrict calls usage or aps usage. Control just about anything. All from her own p.c. or phone.”
He was looking at me expecting me to enthuse at how brilliant this was. I just sighed and nodded feeling a dark cage enveloping me.
“Anyways,” Jerry continued seeing as how unimpressed I was. “It gets better really.”
I was dying. The words ‘gets better’ chilled me.
“It has a locator turned on so Mrs Connelly will always know where her niece is. Even down to the last square metre. No danger of the little girls getting lost.”
Jesus! This was too much.
“And it gets even better. I have limited the aps to just the ones on the front screen. Your nieces won’t be able to download or startup any others than those. All other controls are locked out.
I felt feint. The blood was rushing from my head. Blair had taken leave of her senses. For support I gripped the desk on which the tray sat.
“But it gets even better,” Blair gushed. “Look! You hold it Jordan. Pretend you are my niece and say you are out shopping for shoes when you should be at home doing your homework.”
I took hold of the girly, pink phone with my fingertips as if it were diseased.
“Now,” Blair announced, “There you are out buying shoes when you are not supposed to. I know exactly where you are from my google maps. But when I phone the naughty little brat will choose not to answer, yes? On account of her being up to mischief. Let me show you.”
She dialled a number on her smart phone and a moment later mine played the opening lyrics from ‘I’m a Barbie girl, in a Barbie world’. Oh Jesus!
I left it ring. On the call sign it read: Mummy. I think by then I was in a state of shock.
“So naughty minx doesn’t answer and hey presto.”
Suddenly the phone vibrated and shook to life. I saw a video of a grinning Blair in the middle of my phone. I knew she could immediately see my shocked face.
“You see? I can force the phone to answer to have a good look at what my naughty little niece is up to.”
I slumped on to a seat near the second desk. This was insane.
“You are clever Jerry.”
“Oh Mrs Connolly, folk would be staggered if they knew what could be done with their phones. This is nothing.”
“Jerry dear, it is enough, believe me. Don’t you think Jordan?”
I just stared at her with my mouth agape.
“Lost for words eh. Now Jordan why don’t you run along and play with my niece’s new toy. So you can clearly see what you cannot do on it. I think jerry and I have a few jobs to keep us occupied.”
With my own coffee I sat in the front room just staring at my new, pink girly phone. All my aps for games, news and sport had vanished. I just had a single screen with a few icons some of which I did not recognise.
I had tried to change the ring tone but I could not access any of the settings. Jerry had cut me off from doing anything with my phone other than making and receiving calls. Of course all of those would be sent to Blair to peruse.
Outside the room I could hear a scraping of chairs as Jerry worked in the hallway whilst chatting to my giggling wife.
I wish now I had shown more concern at what they were doing. Perhaps I could have put a stop to it. I just felt too flattened, absolutely exhausted at what Blair had done to my life. The realisation that during my agonising afternoon I could have accessed all my favourite sites including that of Deborah Ford’s The Hotel filled me with a sickening realisation. I had been a real idiot.
But even now I know I wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. She had taken control, not in a harsh way, more in a womanly soft commanding style. Like maybe a firm teacher in a class.
Also it maybe better had I not seen what Jerry was doing. I fear I may have tried to argue and Blair would have made me look even more foolish.
Either way, just half an hour after Jerry arrived I was to be shown something that would change my life even more than my new controlling pink phone. And there was nothing I could do about it.
I sat in the front room toying with my new pink phone finding all it now allowed me to do was make calls and send text messages. I couldn’t access ‘settings’ nor any of the aps I had downloaded. The internet use allowed me access to a couple of news sites but little else. If I used a search engine to find anything even risqué it flagged up the words ‘Cyber Mummy Safety, ’ below the warning message it read the same warning text as on the pc: ‘this site is considered too mature for your current age. If you think there has been an error please contact an adult to rectify your problem.’
I know the next lines will excite the sissy cuckolds amongst you but do not get too carried away as Jerry is definitely not Blair’s type. I had stood up to rearrange the chastity cage. Sometimes when the CB6000 slips between your legs it can get uncomfortable. Just as I was pushing everything back into position I heard heavy footsteps going up the stairs, clearly those of Jerry’s. These were followed by the lighter steps of Blair’s.
What? Why would she be taking him upstairs?
I wanted to open the door to take a look but I dared not. I hadn’t yet fully understood the power exchange that had taken place in the space of a few short days. I didn’t recognise that I was fearful of earning some punishment from her. I think, at the time, it was more that I just felt it wise to keep my head down.
So I stood in the middle of the living room listening to their footsteps move across the landing towards my bedroom. My heart was in mouth. I guess I did fear that she was about to fulfil another part of my fantasy and cuckold me, but at the same time I knew she wouldn’t let a guy like Jerry anywhere near her. She found wimps like that amusing. She had often told me how she would use guys like that as ‘fetch mees.’ She had learnt in school how she could flash her boobs or her eyes at some pathetic guy and say ‘fetch me this’ or ‘fetch me that’ and off they would dash to perform her bidding. Bring her pens or paper or do her homework.
I know she admired me at college for the way I was already planning to set up my own company. Don’t think she ever tried the ‘fetch mees’ ploy with me.
But them being in my bedroom was torture. What was happening up there?
As I was to learn over the following months how the dominate can keep the sub on a short leash simply by keeping the sub in ignorance. It is a stomach turning feeling of helplessness when you do not know what is even happening let alone know how to react to it. It leaves you with a constant buzz of trepidation in your gut.
Inevitably I guess the footsteps moved directly overhead. They were in my bedroom. I heard a scraping of a chair. I guess at that point I was beginning to wonder if she really would have sex with him but then, bizarrely, I heard an electric drill. It squealed twice. About five minutes later the chair was moved and they walked out of the room but I couldn’t tell to where.
I stood next to the door like a puppy, hopeful for someone to open it. My ear pressed to the wood but I couldn’t hear anything.
Summing up all my courage I pushed the handle down and, as quietly and slowly as I could, I opened the door enough to peer into the hallway. Nothing. No one. I pulled the door open sufficiently wide to step outside and peer upstairs. My heart missed a beat. Suddenly the drill was squealing again.
I walked to the stairs to look up, all ready to dart back into the front room. The sound was coming from the far guest room.
Suddenly I heard Blair giggling. They were coming back.
I raced into the room closing the door as quietly as possible.
Looking back I wonder why I was behaving like a wimp in my own home but at that moment it seemed natural. I desperately needed Blair to unlock me, let me be a man in the house again.
Voices in the hall, Blair thanking him and Jerry being bashful. Something about seeing her tomorrow and then he was gone.
I opened the door, swallowed, and whispered, “yes darling?”
I want you, the reader to picture her as I saw her at that moment. She was only my height, maybe a little taller in her heels. Her blouse and short tight skirt were achingly sexy. Her dark tights and heels teasing my trapped dick. If I could have I would have collapsed to the carpet and just wanked as quickly as possible.
She stood arms folded, one ankle before the other wearing a mischievous grin. Like a school girl who has laid a trap and is inviting the victim in to it.
She crooked her finger and turned into my office, so I followed.
Next to my pc with its pre-school, childish desktop was her laptop.
“First Jordan I want you to know I love you. Ok?”
I cannot remember what is replied, maybe I just mumbled yes.
“It is just that I don’t want to feel like an idiot ever again. You understand that don’t you?”
“Yes darling. Yes.” I was of course careful not to use her Christian name as she had ruled that out of bounds the previous evening.
She nodded and smiled. “Good. Just needed you to know.” She waved a hand under my desk where the computer box sat. “Can you see that black boxee thingee behind your computer?”
“Yes.” I stared at it. It was about the size of a shoe box and jet black. A green light was on at the front.
“Good. Now that clever little nerd Jerry may not be every girl’s cup of tea, but he sure knows his stuff. We had a long chat today. I sat on my desk crossing and uncrossing my legs and he stood there like a puppy with his tongue hanging out. As obedient as a puppy too.” She giggled to herself. “Anyways, he was telling me about all the ways computer nerds would try to outwit the keyboard logger and the Team viewer software. Even how to get around the cyber security that stops you getting on your pervy sites without my permission. You wouldn’t believe it. Not that I was listening of course. All went over my head. You wouldn’t have been much better would you bunchkins?”
I shook my head. I wouldn’t have had a clue how to outwit such software but I could have used a search on the internet. Yet even then of course Blair would have seen what I was searching for via the keyboard logger.
“So, anyways. That clever little man has added some sort of back up power supply. Don’t ask me what it does but it means that you cannot turn the computer off. What did he say? I don’t know, something about rebooting and getting inside the bios? Does that make sense?”
I shrugged, still in shock. I didn’t know enough about computers to understand the bios anyway.
“So he has removed the shutdown menu from your computer front screen and somehow he has stopped the power buttons in the front working. So you cannot turn it off. Amazing eh? I can turn it off by relogging as admin but you, little boy, will have to wait for your mummy to do it for you.”
I felt sick hearing that term ‘mummy again’. Clearly that was her friend’s fetish, but it wasn’t mine.
“So Jordan, naughty little boys won’t be able to reformat or relog or do anything as I understand it. Not without their big strong mummy to help them. Cool huh?”
“Erm, darling, I am really not into this ‘mummy’ business. You see my fetish is …”
“Oh phooey! My friend says you must keep them under the thumb so they know for sure it isn’t for them. Now look at this. She touched the screen on her laptop, pumped in a long password and then pressed an icon which was called ‘Security Home.’
Her screen split into four images. I gasped. One was from the webcam on my computer screen showing the office. I could see Blair on her laptop right in front of the webcam.
The second image was of the hallway.
I stepped back outside my office and saw the webcam secured above the door to the kitchen.
The other two images were of my bedroom and the spare room I mentioned. It was a small bedroom with an en-suite. We had intended it for friends staying over like the main guest room but only Chloe’s friends had ever used it.
“Blair I …”
“Oh and my little boy thinks he can use my name again? Did I give you permission?”
“No darling, sorry I am just flabbergasted at all this.” I recall the way she was staring at me, sort of studying my reaction. “I am really sorry about using your name, sort of slipped out.”
She lightened up at my apology. “Don’t look so worried baby. I will deal with you later. Right now I want you to see that I can keep a perfect eye upon you and what you get up to. All the time. Isn’t that simply wonderful?”
Slumping into my office chair I stared open mouthed at the screen of images. “Darling I don’t understand. I mean why?”
She ruffled my hair and sat on my lap, wriggling her gorgeous arse around until I was gasping with need.
“Aw poor honey.” She stroked my cheek. “Shame you were so naughty wasn’t it?”
“Naughty my love?”
“Using my Christian name like that.”
At that point I felt like crying. I was helpless and humiliated, not even knowing what to say.
I looked up at her pretty face. “But darling don’t you think we should talk about this?”
Putting her arm around my neck she kissed my nose. “I am not an ogre Jordan. Of course you may ask for permission to discuss anything your little heart desires.”
Permission to discuss! I now needed permission just to discuss anything?
“Well, I don’t know where to start. I mean what about my privacy?”
She patted my nose very firmly. “Aw, now little boy, was that asking for permission to discuss anything? Huh? Or was it my little Jordan behaving like a brat and thinking he could just say whatever he wants, whenever he wants?”
What could I reply to that? I just sat there as she fidgeted herself into a more comfortable position leaving my dick to frustratingly fill its tiny cage.
“I …well …I …”
“My friend said she had to be very firm when she first started. Her husband kept thinking it was a joke. Some sort of game that would finish at bedtime. So I guess we had best do the same.”
“Darling please can we discuss all of this. I mean this is just crazy”
“I think ‘please may we discuss’ sounds sweeter, don’t you?”
Closing my eyes I felt my mouth dry. I then looked at her and said, “Please may we discuss this?”
Running her fingers through my hair she said, “Of course babykins. But first I am feeling really horny. Isn’t that strange? I didn’t expect that. I think being in control makes me feel more relaxed, safer somehow. Anyways. Tonight you will learn how to use my rabbit on me. Then we will discuss some things before your bedtime.”
“Ah. I hadn’t mentioned that had I?” She laughed at her silliness. “With so much going on. My friend said it was important to get her husband into a routine so he knew exactly when he was going to bed. That way she could let him stay up late, if he had been good, and then he would be very grateful. We will make your bedtime,” she half closed her eyes in thought, “nine thirty. Yes that sounds about right.”
I dint say anything.
She patted my arm. “Come on. Chloe will be back from her friends by seven so you have little more than an hour to entertain me.”
So she led me upstairs by the hand with my eyes were at the level of her gorgeous arse. I so wanted to screw her.
Bringing her shoebox into my bedroom she took off the cover to reveal her Rabbit vibrator and a smaller vibrator she had before we married.
She undressed casually as if I wasn’t there. Usually she was very self-conscious when she undresses with me in the room but at that time I might as well not have been present. As she slipped her naked body into her fluffy pink bathroom robe I ventured a reminder:
“Darling. Remember you said I would be released tonight.”
She tied the cords loosely about her waist and eyed me. “Hmmm. You need to ask permission to say anything don’t you?”
“My love I do not know how to speak to you anymore.” There were tears in my eyes, I just couldn’t help it.
She cuddled me tightly. “Honeykins we both have a great deal to learn.” She kissed my cheek. “But all the time in the world to learn it.”
I was so aroused, so heady that my brain just couldn’t function, I had never felt so passive and brain dead in my life.
She whispered in my ear, “why not try ‘please darling may I remind you that I might be released tonight?’ How does that sound?”
I nodded frantically. “Yes darling. Please may I be released tonight?”
Smiling she kissed my nose. “Sorry honeykins. You have been a little bit naughty haven’t you? Not addressing me properly? Yes? Besides I don’t know how to get that chastity cage back on you after you have cum. Apparently once a subbie guy has cum he reverts to being a horrible, pushy brat again. So how would I get the cage back on you then? Eh? If you didn’t want me to?”
Shaking my head I admitted I didn’t know. “I promise I will let you,” I stated with all my heart.
“Hmmm. Babykins. Yes, you say that now. But after? Huh? So, no, not tonight. But I know you have asked me to cane your bottom in the past haven’t you? Yes you have. Don’t deny it. So be a good boy and go down to the garden shed. The gardener leaves the canes for the tomatoes down there. Bring me one about four feet long.”
She was right of course. Like most guys who had a kick out of the cuckold sissy fetish I wanted to experience a canning. And I had asked her many times, irritating her with my persistence.
But at that moment it felt different. I wasn’t asking for it, nor looking forward to it. Rather she had decided and now I had to comply.
And at that moment in time I could not think of a single way I could avoid fetching it for her.
Feeling my cheeks burning I went down stairs hearing her Rabbit buzz into life as she tested its batteries.
“Do you think I should get one of those leather cat suits?”
I was draped over the bed, naked below the waist, just wearing my shirt.
I swallowed. “Darling?”
Turning I could see she was eyeing herself in the mirror. Posing with the cane. She looked awesomely sexy in her short skirt. I felt myself dribbling down below, an almost permanent problem since being locked into the CB6000.
Giggling she patted my bottom with the stick. “I mean, I always thought of those dominatrixes wearing tight fitting leather.” She stood on her toes pressing down her tummy. “I mean I still have the figure for it, don’t I?”
“Yes darling,” I said. She sure as hell did.
“Oh you are so sweet. Now I feel bad about all this.”
Was this a last minute reprieve? “Well I do promise to be better behaved darling.”
Tapping the cane more firmly against my vulnerable buttocks her eyes narrowed. “Yes. You do now. The problem I have with you is what happens every time my back is turned. But I think we can resolve that.”
“Please honey may I say something?”
Wrinkling her nose she shook her head. “Not right now babykins. I have never done this before so I need to concentrate.”
I recall how I searched my mind for a way to argue with her but I feared she would simply use the opportunity to increase my punishment. I simply looked away as she continued to pat the cane on my skin.
The pats turned into loud splats that seriously stung. Then she struck me so hard I heard the swishing of the cane through the air.
I sat up straight and immediately received another hard slap on my backside.
“Back in your place babykins. Back arched. There’s a good boy. We will call this punishment position one. Ok?”
“I will show you. Sit up straight again.”
Studying her carefully, fearful of being tricked I sat up and settled back on my knees.
“Good boy. Now assume punishment position number one.”
For a moment I remained kneeling but then, as she turned her head to eye me hard, as if on a spring I catapulted myself back over the bed.
“Back more arched.” She patted the cane on my buttocks as a warning. “That’s better. See? That is punishment position number one. Understand now?”
“Yes darling,” I muttered.
“I think I will be a good teacher,” she giggled.
The canning lasted only a few minutes. If you haven’t been caned then let me tell you how much it hurts. It is like having a knife slice a line across your buttocks. It leaves parallel streaks that burn until the tears come to your eyes.
It may sound sexy in books but when it happens you just want it to stop. You will do anything to make it stop.
When she finished I settled back on my knees rubbing at my raw arse. Tears filled my eyes.
Well that was the odd thing. She has always been someone bursting with empathy for another’s pain. But now her look was part fascination, part red cheeked arousal. She was crouched near me, running her fingers through my hair, but her eyes were fixed on mine as if studying my soul.
I think on one level she was thinking ‘have I done this, was this all down to me?’ and on another there was a faintly sadistic, commanding emotion fighting to surface.
I heard her mutter ‘wow’ under her breath. She ran a finger up my cheek gathering the tears like a dam. She kissed my face, really gently. “You know I love you, don’t you Jordan?”
“Yes honey. Of course.” I am not sure I did, but it seemed wise to agree with her at that point.
She smiled a wide eyed sense of achievement and muttered ‘wow’ again.
“So why not be a good boy and fetch my Rabbit for me.
I brought the vibrator to my bed. It always reminded me of a toy built from spare parts with all its tiny add-ons fixed at odd angles. Yet I knew from what she has said before that it hits the spot as reliably as rain in the spring.
She was sat on my bed, propped up by the array of pillows she always kept on our beds. Her bare smooth legs were slightly parted beneath the pink dressing gown.
“I want you to be careful. Really gentle got it honeybins?” For the first time that night she looked a little concerned.
“Don’t be rough. Not to start with anyway. I have never trusted anyone to do this for me before.”
I nodded, holding the Rabbit as I knelt on the bed next to her. She was still apprehensive, her eyes fixed on the vibrator in my hand.
“Ok. Just gently right?”
I turned it on, feeling it jump into life before running it slowly up the inside of her thigh. I instinctively kept from pressing it on her pussy, rather I sort of teased it close and then ran it down the inside of her other thigh.
She closed her eyes and smiled. “That’s nice,” she whispered. “Good boy.”
So I ran it back again, up close to her pussy and then down the other side.
I heard her hum with pleasure.
Back and fore I went a few times and then I just touched her between her legs. She gasped and stiffened. I was dreading hurting her. My backside felt as if I had sat on a boiling hot radiator and I certainly didn’t want another caning.
As she settled back I prodded it into her pussy. Unable to see it beneath her robe I could feel it give a little as I pressed forward. Suddenly the vib slipped inside her and she jumped and groaned, tightening her hands into fists.
“Just gently,” she said breathlessly as if she had already run a marathon.
The buzzing sound changed as it slipped deeper into her. When I pulled it out the sound was higher pitched, as if it worked harder when inside her. I pressed it into her again with pretty much the same reaction. She jumped, held her breath and moaned.
Sliding it deeper I saw her arch her back and slip down the pillows, burying it deeper within herself. I pulled it back a few inches then pushed it back in.
I did so and the reaction was explosive. I had seen her orgasm before of course. I knew her noises and the movements she made. But that was nothing like this. As soon as the ears touched her so her back arched and she squealed, ‘oh God yes.’
Each time I did it I achieved the same result until maybe on the fifth occasion she slipped down the bed her hands arching back over her head to clutch the bed rails. She came like I had never seen her before. She was completely lost in the moment. A bucking, shrieking machine.
Holding the Rabbit in place I watched as she calmed, still bucking, sweat dribbling around her forehead and neck. Her skin a glowing red.
Finally she fell silent and rolled away from me emitting a long sigh.
I sat on the edge of my bed with the vibrator and turned it off. When the buzzing died down the room switched to silence. It was as if we had been in another place and had now returned to Earth.
She snored lightly.
What was I to do ? She was falling asleep in my bed.
I crawled up close to her to whisper in her ear, “darling?”
“Yes bunchkins?” She was speaking quietly as if her mind was already fast asleep. Her eyes never opened.
“Do you want to go back to your bed?”
“No baby. You sleep in the second guest room tonight.”
Thanks! I thought. I did all this, suffered from the beating and now I was being sent to the spare bedroom.
A more irritable, “yes?”
“Erm. We were going to talk about all this? You know about my chastity belt. I have been in it a few days now …”
“Tomorrow. Not another word. Make sure you are tucked up in bed by nine thirty.”
Jesus! I had forgotten all that guff about my so called bedtime.
“Yes, right. So talking the morning?”
“Make Chloe some supper and check her homework before you go to bed.”
“Yes darling. Is there anything more you want?”
A long sigh. “I want you to leave me sleep! Else you will be sent to bed at eight thirty!”
At that point I fled.
I put all her stuff away in the shoe box and placed it in her bedroom on her dressing table.
Chloe came home about eight and I made her some dinner explaining that mummy was tired and had gone to bed. Like most teenagers she just accepted any facts that were not directly to do with her. I checked her essay on The Potato Famine and seeing the time was 9:15 told her that I was also tired.
I left her watching tv whilst I made my way to the second guest room at the rear of the house.
It took me an age to sleep that first night. Normally I am up until midnight playing around on the computer in my office. But that night I lay there ruminating on the nights developments. I had finally had her cane me and though at the time it was awful, painful and humiliating right then, in my own bed, it felt erotic. My ass was as hot as I had always imagined it would be following a beating. But that just added to the damnable frustration as I couldn’t wank myself off.
If I was feeling sorry for myself then that was nothing to what I would feel just after lunch the following day.
I was still stretching out the Singapore contract for all it was worth. By now I had dotted all the ‘I’s and crossed all the ‘T’s. The doorbell rang and when I answered my gut reeled as I took in the delivery guy. I was standing before a man wearing my chastity belt. Previously the only person I had been in the company of whilst wearing it had been Blair. That felt awful enough. As if she was in charge and I somehow subservient, but this guy, little more than my height, but sort of bony and masculine. His skin rough, his cheeks unshaven, it all conspired to make made me feel very unmasculine.
There is no other way to describe it.
And to be honest to this day I haven’t got used to being in the presence of a guy whilst wearing the chastity cage. It sort of demotes you. You feel as if he must be magically be aware of the dynamic between a sub guy in his chastity device and a real guy.
He placed a large box in the porch.
“Sign here mate.”
I signed his electronic notetaker and he was gone. “See you mate.”
I think I said ‘yes, see you.’
I picked up the box that was addressed to me and seeing the Amazon stickers recognised what it was.
I opened it on the kitchen counter and groaned. On the cover was a picture of a cute young girl, maybe no older than 14 wearing the bunny Onsie. My first inclination was to chuck it in the bin at the back of the house. Pretend it never came, just decide never to mention it again and hope Blair would forget. But I was learning not to do anything that might upset her. A happy Blair was my best way forwards.
Beneath the weather proof bag the box with the heated bunny slippers were taped to the top of the larger Onsie box.
I returned to my computer and slumped in my chair staring at the Singapore Container Contract. I just felt totally defeated. Though I had slept longer than I had ever done since I was a baby I felt really tired, as if I could crawl into bed.
The phone rang.
“Yes?” I was till feelings sorry for myself.
“What’s wrong bunchkins?”
I almost shouted ‘Blair’ down the phone so surprised was I to hear from her, but I saved myself a beating by saying: “Honey?” Though do not believe I hid my shock.
“You look so forlorn honeykins. Everything ok?”
Ah Gawd! She is watching me through the webcam. “Yes dear fine.” Something inside me wanted to tell her that the damnable bunny outfit had arrived, as if to demonstrate my honesty.
“The contract ok?”
“What? Oh yeh, yeh. Yes. That’s fine. Done reallt.”
“That was quick. Thought you had loads of work to do on it?”
Oh my God she will realise I had been lying about that. “Oh yes. Yes. But funnily enough when I took a good look at it I realised it is good to go.”
“Hmmm.” She wasn’t convinced so I held my breath. “So why are you looking like a little boy who can’t have a chocolate biscuit?”
“Oh yes. Well. As you know darling I am locked in the ‘you know what’. I just need some respite.”
“Ah-ha. As you know it is getting you back in it that is my dilemma.”
“Yes, yes. But I promise I will let you.”
“You will let me?” She giggled. “That will be sweet of you. But I think I have to do it so you have no say in the matter.”
“Yes I guess so.”
“I have thought of something. A way to ensure you can be put back in it.”
I perked up. “Yes darling?”
“Well you remember that fancy dress party we went to? With me and you as sexy prisoners?”
“Yes. You were stunning.”
“Aw thank you honey. Well you remember my boss Mister Hopkins telling that story. You know where he had the Honk Kong police handcuffs?”
How could I forget? He had been such an Alpha male that night, something I shared with you already. If you recall I played with myself with fantasies about him dominating my wife and even dominating me at the same time. Classic sissy cuckold stuff really.
“Yes they were the real thing. Double locking.”
She smiled. “I thought you would remember, you perv,” she giggled. “Well let me free up your computer so you can go on to ebay.”
I saw my Singapore contract being saved and then she logged me off. I just sat in the chair watching her do it. As you recollect the previous day I got into trouble when I tried to stop her using my keyboard and mouse.
At the login screen I saw her tap in the long asterix hidden password before the windows screen came back up with the usual Microsoft music and a more complete array of icons than I was allowed on my kiddies screen.
“Ok off you go. I will watch.”
Whilst holding the phone to my ear I used one finger to log into ebay before setting off the search as ‘double locking handcuffs’
As usual a list came up.
“There’s quite a few darling.” She said as is surprised. Blair is incredibly naïve when it comes to sex.
“Gosh there are. And these are all real handcuffs like Morgan Hopkin’s?”
“Yes. I am sure. Yes.”
“So no silly trick locks to get out of like the toy ones we used at the fancy dress party?”
I was about to say ‘no’ when she squealed so loudly in my ear I had to pull the phone away.
“At what?” I of course hid my exasperation at her irrational instruction. She should have told me what I should be looking at.
“They do leg cuffs. Can you see them?”
“Yes they are at the top of the screen.”
“Buy them. Buy them now.”
I smiled to myself and clicked to make the purchase. I had always wanted Blair to lock me up in steel cuffs. Wow, now she was volunteering to do it! Knowing I wouldn’t be able to unlock them or escape made the acquisition both scary and thrilling.
I hovered the mouse pointer over standard postage.
“No, no!” She shouted.
“What?” I tried to remain calm. Why couldn’t she be logical and tell me what I should stop doing?
“Next day delivery!”
“Ok, ok, ok!”
I selected next day delivery and the screen flashed back to the double locking handcuffs
“Wow, there are loads of different types. Which ones would you like?”
My dick quivered in its cage and my brain was bursting with excitement. I was choosing handcuffs for my own mistress!
“Well there are ones with longer chains and …”
“Oh my God!”
Another ear piercing scream.
“Look at those. They are pink!”
I saw the pink handcuffs and grimaced. “Don’t you think it would be better if they were silver like real police cuffs?”
“They are real handcuffs. Double locking thingees, yes?”
I double checked. “Yes darling. And you get two types. Ones with a short chain and ones that are hinged.”
I heard her giggling. “Hinged. Not sure what they do but get them. For tomorrow! I can see a good boy being allowed out of his little cage, can’t you?”
Though it was humiliating to be patronised like that I found myself being so aroused that it didn’t matter. I selected next day delivery and was anxious to close the page before she got any ideas I wouldn’t find exciting.
I put the mouse over the cross to close the window when I heard her warn:
“Excuse me mister. And who gave you permission to exit?”
The fear that filled my gut I can recall to this day. “I thought we had finished darling.”
“You thinking for yourself again?”
I swallowed, feeling myself blush.
“I asked you a question little boy didn’t I?”
“Yes darling, yes you did.” I cleared my throat. “Sorry darling, I was thinking for myself a bit.”
She was silent for a moment while I held my breath.
“We cannot have that can we?”
She sounded breathless, as if she had been running.
“Er, no, I guess we can’t.”
“The next thing you will be doing is trying to make decisions. And we definitely do not want that do we?”
I was so aroused and so brain fuddled I just kept agreeing with her. In turn I was growing more and more desperate to cum. I spurted twice in quick succession.
“Tell me something little boy, has your bunny suit arrived?”
“Please darling, please I ….”
“Is this a little boy who wants to be released when the cuffs get here tomorrow?”
“Oh yes please, yes.”
“Ok good. Then I expect good behaviour. Now you be a good boy and strip to your underpants and then put it on with the bunny slippers.”
My head hung in shame. I knew I would have to comply. “Yes miss.”
I rose holding the phone.
“And just one more thing little bunchkins.”
“I want you to look at this You Tube video. I was looking all this morning for something like it.”
A window popped up on my screen with the usual YouTube descriptions.
I saw the description. ‘Kiddies face Painting.’
“I couldn’t find a cute bunny face but this kitty face will do. Follow the instructions. You don’t need to do the ears or anything but get the nose and the whiskers right or else I will weld that chastity cage shut!”
What? She wanted me to do some sort of kids painting on my face? I was horrified.
“D-D-Darling? I ….”
“You will need my eyebrow pencil and some other girlee thingees. Use my old make up bag in the top drawer of my dressing table. It is a pink, lime green colouring.”
“Darling? Please. That will be so …”
“Have to go. You have one hour. And good little boys aren’t late are they?”
“No darling,” I mumbled.
I knew I was about to descend into abject degradation, but at that point I just didn’t know how far.