Thursday, February 28, 2019


She knew sharing cock with her cuckold was an important, almost crucial step, in establishing the new roles for their marriage. It wasn’t simply about her taking a lover, it was about redefining her husband’s place, too, for both of them.

Once he did this, once he submitted like this, he would never see himself as a traditional husband; he would never assume if he only tried harder, he could satisfy her sexually; and he would never try to be dominant again.


I saw her looking at me, harness in her eyes, I wanted to cover up, but knew that would only make things worse.

“It appears your stocking top are not straight,” she glared, speaking in her firm, formal voice.
“I…I’m sorry, Ma’am,” I said, swallowing on that last word, still not used to referring to my wife in that manner.
“It certainly is not difficult for a sissy to straighten her stockings, is it?” she asked.
“No, Ma'am, I...I’ll do better,” I promised.
The corners of her mouth turned down, a sure sign she was more than annoyed, that she was angry. “And I presume you'll do better that?” she pointed, nose wrinkled in disgust.
“I…I wasn’t finished dressing,” I said, the same defense to my stockings. “I…I didn’t think you’d…that you’d be home so soon.”
“As if that’s an excuse,” she sneered. “I don’t recall a ‘Mistress is not present in the home so I can swell’ exception. Did I miss that?”
“N…no, Ma’am,” I said looking down.
She said nothing, just glared. Finally spoke. “Get the cage,” she said.
“Ma’am, please, I…I didn’t mean to.”
“Oh, there’s an ‘I didn’t mean to’ exception?”
“No. No, Ma’am,” I said.
“What is the rule for that thing?”
“No…no erections without permission, Ma'am,” I swallowed
“No erections without permission,” she repeated. “And did you have permission for an erection?”
“No, Ma’am,” I said softly.
“And the consequence for an erection without permission?”
“Ch…chastity,” I said in a whisper.
“It is a simple rule with a simple, natural consequence. How long has it been like that?” she demanded. “And no lying.”
“Please,” I begged.
“How long?” she glared at me.
“I…I don’t know,” I stammered.
“Well I’ve been gone an hour, should I assume the entire time?”
“No!” I almost shouted, tried again, “no. T…ten minutes, Ma'am, I...I swear,” I said. I was terrified, the rule was a week in chastity for every minute. A week in chastity for every minute I was erect.
“If you are lying, pet, I’ll double the hour," she said.
Double the hour? One hundred twenty weeks? Over two years? Ten weeks would be bad enough. "I’m not, I swear,” I said. “Ten minutes, just…just since I started getting dressed.”
She looked at me, at my improperly adjusted stockings and I saw she believed me.
“Well it’s eleven minutes now,” she looked at her watch. “Get an ice pack and the cage.”
I hurried out of the room, did as instructed, getting the ice first so I was soft when I came back two minutes later. “Thirteen minutes, then,” she said looking at her watch again. “Three months, into spring.”
Three months would be the longest I’d been locked to date and I knew I’d do every week, every day, every minute.

Friday, February 22, 2019


It was so difficult, wasn't it. Six months in chastity, six months locked, confined, denied orgasm. Six month of being penetrated instead of penetrating. Six months, the only pleasure from the pleasure you gave to her.

Six months, desperate to cum.

You felt it happening one night, felt the feeling starting to wash over you, felt like you would burst.

You felt it, remembered her promise, remembered her words.

Thursday, February 21, 2019


A man wants her to dress in the pretty lingerie and suck his cock.

A sissy wants to wear the pretty lingerie and suck his cock.

See the differences?


Just because she's 36 weeks pregnant doesn't mean I can't dress up as a pretty sissy and wait on her hand and foot.