27
The car ride was quiet, as Jane's eyes fluttered closed, put to sleep by the hum of the tires on the road. Once we arrived at home, Jane had just enough energy left to get out of the car and upstairs. I helped her undress, but she wasn't wearing much. I think she was asleep again before her head hit the pillow. My mind was still racing so, even though it was getting late, I decided to pour myself a nightcap.
Sitting under the light of a single lamp with two fingers of scotch, I tried to calm and organize my thoughts. The presence of the cage on me was a constant distraction and having been brought to the edge of orgasm only to be denied in the end seemed to make my inner ache even worse. That dull throb combined with the simple helplessness I felt, not able to even really touch myself, was filling my mind with this overwhelming realization about my situation.
I was owned. My wife and my Master, each in their own way, had taken over my will and body in ways that I had given up on believing could be real. I'd had dreams and fantasies like this for years, and my inability to cast them aside had led to so many secrets between Jane and I. I'd spent so much time online when she'd been out or at work or asleep. I'd collected so many kinky photographs and drawings, read so many erotic stories, and purchased a good collection of kinky toys to play with myself with. Periods of guilt and attempts to "be better" had led to purge after purge, but I always had come back. I'd lost track of how many butt plugs or pairs of cheap panties I'd purchased and then thrown away.
This was different now. For one, Master knew more about me than I'd ever let anyone know -- things like my real name and my address and phone number, not to mention my work. He knew things about my wife and, given the way the world was now with everyone and everything online, I was sure he knew a lot more about the both of us than he ever admitted. He'd never threatened me with that knowledge really, but I just knew what he knew. I was a bit afraid of it, but more often it just made me confront the truth of how much I'd shared, and how that was evidence of how completely I'd given myself over to him. He'd taken me so far, through so many thresholds, guiding me to do things I'd never dared to before, and it was thrilling.
Somehow, Jane had also found some new spark. Perhaps the years of the secrets between us had caused a distance that she'd finally had enough of. Given an opening, she'd opened a door wide. I tried to trace the journey of me offering her as much oral sex as she'd like to where I'd just picked her up from another man's home while locked in chastity. It seemed like a dam had burst within her. I couldn't even really say that she had her own secrets, since she seemed so immediately open about what she wanted, and what she was going to demand.
I wouldn't have guessed that being cuckolded was going to feel like it did. Being controlled by a man -- a dominant and kinky man like Master -- had perhaps inevitably led me to emasculation and sissification and this teasing humiliation. I'd performed for men online and I'd serviced men in person. I was becoming quickly familiar with the tastes and sensations of a cock in my mouth. I'd never thought of myself as gay before, but terms like that didn't seem to matter. I wanted to please Master. I wanted to please these men. Giving them pleasure how they wanted it made me radiate with a kind of bliss and satisfaction that felt better than sex. I never wanted that feeling to end, and it didn't go away or fade when I came, even as rare as that event was becoming.
I had been led to this feeling that I was something different than a man. Less, perhaps, in some definitions, but never in a way that Master used to try to make me feel bad or worthless. It just wasn't my destiny or purpose to fill that role. I was a plaything. I was a fucktoy. I was a submissive sissy slut. In the world I'd been raised in, those were words that would be used to humiliate me, but that feeling just gave me more pleasure now. The truth gave those who knew it power over me, and I wanted to obey.
My life was filling up with men. There was Master, first of all. Then there were the men watching me, observing and aroused my training as it was broadcast to them as they commented and pleasured themselves. There was the man from the club, Dexter, and the members there watching and more. Master was guiding me to meet and chat with others too, all around me. Now there was the man I'd tasted inside Jane. I didn't know his name or his face, but I supposed that I knew where he lived. Thinking of that made me confront a thought that had hit me while I'd been between my wife's thighs in his parking lot -- I wondered if I was ever going to get to taste his cum directly from the source.
What kind of man thought that? What kind of husband, having to face and even taste the evidence of his wife having been fucked by another man reacts by daydreaming about sucking that man's cock? Me, that was the kind of man. A submissive, kinky, sissified, emasculated, chastity-cage-wearing, sissygasm enjoying slut. I wanted it, not just for the pure sensation of taste and experience of his cock filling my mouth and maybe more, but I wanted to be placed below him too. I wanted my wife to know that her control could extend to making me the sexual plaything of her lovers. It was such an erotic thought that I'm sure I would have jerked off to it if I'd been able.
Instead, all I could do was finish my drink and head up to bed, wondering if Jane would even want something like that, or if I'd dare to try to lead her to imagine it. As I slipped into bed beside her, I couldn't stop thinking of her watching it all unfold.
The ache woke me early. The old me didn't pay much attention to the dependable reliability of a morning hard-on, but now that its occurrence meant physical discomfort leading to the mental arousal of remembering my whole predicament, it was impossible to ignore. I slipped out of bed quietly and went to relieve myself. I had to sit to do so, of course, saying another silent sarcastic thanks to the cage as I did so.
It felt like a Monday, even though I knew I'd be working from home. Jane wouldn't be, so I made my way downstairs to get the coffee going and to put together the items I knew she'd want to bring along for lunch. I also tidied up what little mess that lingered from our late return home.
I would have guessed that Jane would have been tired from the late night but she seemed to have a skip in her step when she appeared in the kitchen as I was getting things ready. She surprised me by pulling me close and kissing me deeply. It felt warm and loving, like there was nothing in the world other than us two. That feeling lasted through the kiss, but the rest of things came back quickly as she reached down and cupped my caged genitals as the kiss broke. She squeezed my balls just a bit and her smile widened, but she didn't say a word. She just giggled and poured a small cup of coffee to take back upstairs as she got ready for work.
Weekday mornings were mostly a dance that we knew by heart and so it seemed, even after all the strange and new things from the weekend and all the rest of it, that it was mere moments before I was kissing her good day at the door and sending her off to her office. I watched her drive off, closed the door and turned back to face the empty house and the hours ahead that I would be there alone. I was nervous to sign in to the app, as I felt almost afraid of how Master's imagination would find ways to fill those hours.
There were instructions waiting for me as soon as I did. Master required that I shower and clean myself completely, make sure that my grooming was kept up, and then I was to dress in the full maid's uniform, including makeup, and I was to be filled with the app-controlled plug. I was to let him know once all that was complete.
It took some time to get it all done, as I was still not very practiced in the little things like getting stockings on straight and even, or getting the corset laced up tightly enough. Once it was all complete, however, I took some time to inspect myself in the mirror. I was starting to feel a little less silly and a little bit sexy. The corset and the fake breasts gave me some curves, and the stockings and heels did good things for my legs and even my ass. The lipstick drew attention to my mouth, making my lips look full and wet. It almost seemed a shame that the house was so clean already, with such a slutty French maid there, looking back at me from the mirror.
I sent off my reply to Master, letting him know I was all dressed, then walked around the house a bit, practicing moving while in heels, while I waited for his response. He made his awareness of my service first through the plug, starting it up from wherever he was. It shocked me, alone in the silent house, causing me to stumble and reach out for the nearest wall to steady myself. It hummed and pulsed through a few patterns, causing me to moan and ache. I could feel the frustrated arousal cause me to leak precum inside my panties. I made my way to the nearest place to sit, which happened to be a stool at the kitchen island, so that I could endure the assault of sensations without falling over.
The vibrations didn't stop, but they at least lowered in intensity. When it did, the call from Master finally came.
"Hello, my little fucktoy maid," he said cheerfully.
"Good morning, Master," I replied breathily.
"Do you recall, slut, last night that you begged online for those men watching you to offer you their cocks?"
"I do, Master," I answered, feeling the heat of shame at my wanton depravity returning to me instantly.
