wife cuckolds her chastised husbandon August 14, 2013
As the summer unfolded itself over their little suburban idyll Peter and Fiona began to understand the true meaning of permanent chastity, and the incredible effect it was having on both of their lives. As the days and weeks marched on it also became very clear that the reality of the situation was quite different for each of them.
Peter was now almost perpetually thinking about sex. He had not had a proper erection or been able to see or feel his penis now for 5 months. Although his chastity belt was still very comfortable the psychological affect of having his penis completely excluded from his life by his wife was becoming increasingly difficult to bear.
In practical terms there wasn’t really any issues. The belt only restrained his penis and the steel lattice cage could easily be cleaned in the bath or shower, albeit by spraying water upwards between his legs. All his bodily functions could be undertaken unimpeded, except that it was wise, if not essential, to sit down when peeing. This added to his feelings of being controlled by Fiona, and also helped to keep the embers of his increasingly feminine feelings burning slowly inside of him.
His relationship with Fiona was intense and intimate now. He thought about her constantly, helpfully reminded of the fact by the feelings of frustrated lust between his legs, which on occasions were almost too intense to bear. But it wasn’t all bad, and there were moments when the exquisiteness of his predicament left Peter almost breathless with excitement.
He recalled one night recently when, after one of her long hot, pink girly baths, as Peter called them, that they went to bed and just kissed each other for hours, caressing each other tenderly and lovingly with complete understanding and joy. Peter made his beautiful, relaxed wife cum over and over again, and loved to see how hot the situation was for her. When she came it was just earth shattering in intensity, almost scary, and it didn’t happen just once but several times, often on ever increasing screaming waves of intensity.
Peter also enjoyed the fact that he was almost permanently horny, and never had that feeling of disappointment that he often felt immediately after an orgasm, when the anticipation had been so much sweeter than the actual climax. Now, he felt almost constantly on the up curve, and after a while the feeling became a part of his day, part of his experience of wellbeing in fact.
Fiona herself had also noticed a change in their relationship as time went on, and by her own admission she was having an absolute ball.
She loved her husband dearly, but this love was now hugely increased by an uber lust that left her spinning with joy and confidence. Never in her wildest dreams did she think that the level of control she was exercising over her husband would be so hot, so fulfilling as this.
She just loved the fact Peter was constantly turned on, and the almost constant frustration she saw in Peter felt just made her feel even hornier. She could see how he was fighting his emotions, and how difficult and challenging the situation was for him. That just added to her happiness and increased the intensity of her lust. She wanted to see Peter struggling with his chastity. She knew it was perhaps wicked, but it was such a rush. She would muse over how much control she had for hours. She had effectively taken control of Peter’s sexuality completely. Every aspect of his desire was under her control, and any release for Peter would be entirely up to her.
She could see how Peter now understood that, and more, that he understood how much she liked it. This was the truly agonizing dilemma in Peter’s head. His suffering was fuelling Fiona’s happiness. There was no way of hiding that fact. To make his wife truly happy and satisfied, he would need to continue with this game.
The situation was impossible. Hot, difficult and mind bending. Both Peter and Fiona were on a trip of a lifetime and in reality neither of them knew exactly where this would end.
Or did she?
It was now mid-September. The days were still warm but there was sometimes an autumnal chill in the air and a definite back to work mood descended over the nation. The first Christmas adverts started appearing annoyingly on the commercial channels and the tomatoes in Peter’s greenhouse had grown fat and ripe. Peter was in the kitchen washing up, looking out of the window at the baked lawn thinking between his legs, feeling the ever present aching pressure as his penis struggled in its cage. Sometimes the feeling was so intense he dripped. It was as blissful as it was maddeningly frustrating.
Fiona was upstairs packing. She eventually came down, and breezed into the kitchen, plucking a piece of toast delicately from the rack in the middle of the table between her fingers and nibbling the end as she disappeared into the hall to check her hair and make-up one last time. Then she was ready. Coming back into the kitchen she glanced at the clock and clapped her hands together twice briskly.
“Right. I am off. Can you put my bag in the car Peter please?”
“Yes, of course Fi.”
Peter was wearing a pink pinafore now, a gift from Fiona to add some variety, as she put it, to his beloved yellow frilly pinny. When they were alone in the house together that was all Peter was allowed to wear. He had got used to it now, and although it was clearly quite unusual, Fiona liked to see her husband in it, especially when she was in her business suit. It gave her a power thrill that she just loved.
Without any fuss, Peter took off his pinny and changed into a plain navy nylon housecoat, buttoned at the front. It was ridiculous, making him look like a slightly perverted janitor, but it was sexless and enabled him to dash out into the front garden when Fiona gave him one of her little chores. Peter now rarely left the house, dedicating more and more of his time to domestic affairs and carrying out his wife’s orders. He was a nearly perfect house-husband, and he was becoming increasingly house proud, and increasingly narrow minded in his thinking.
Fiona just loved this. She saw how Peter’s life was becoming more and more restricted, and she was determined to take their wonderful little game to the next level.
Peter silently and obediently put Fiona’s case into the back of her Audi, laying her coat on top and shutting the door. As he turned round Fiona flew out of the house rifling through her bag for her keys with her mobile jammed between her shoulder and ear.
“I’ll call you back. I am just leaving. Yes, yes to both. I’ll see you there.”
“Back on Friday Peter. Mwaaah. Be good.”
Then she was gone. The energy in the air just evaporated as the car disappeared down the hill. Peter walked slowly back into the house and closed the door. He felt a slight feeling of anxiety. Fi was so full of life, so excited about this trip, and somehow he felt a bit excluded.
He walked back into the kitchen and put his pinny back on. It gave him a sense of purpose and he looked around the room. Right, he thought, brushing the front down smoothly, work to do.
At 1030pm Peter stood at the bottom of the stairs, took one last quick glance around and then went to bed. He had had a good day in the end, and the house was sparkling.
It is just so much easier to get on when Fi isn’t dropping things everywhere, he thought.
In bed he thought again about Fi again and sent her a text.
“Hope u are ok hun. House spotless, u would b proud. ILY P x”
He lay down and fell asleep.
Fiona wasn’t asleep, and technically neither was she on a business strip any more. Her meetings had gone well and really she could have driven home, but she decided to meet up with her friend Sarah again. They had a lot to discuss, and arranged to stay the night into a small Cotswold hotel they both remembered from their Oxford days.
“The thing is Sarah, I am enjoying it so much I just can’t bring myself to stop. It is like a drug. The more I keep him locked up the better it gets, and the more I want to perpetuate the situation. The idea of this being permanent is just incredibly erotic.”
“I can see that Fi, but the poor man has to have some relief surely. Don’t you want that too?”
Sarah rolled her Cognac around her glass and took a long reflective sip. They were the only two left in the hotel restaurant, and as they were both staying overnight they could continue to talk for as long as they liked.
“I do yes. But that is the thrill. Having control is the essential thrill, and the longer I keep him locked up the more powerful the feelings are for both Peter and I.”
“So what next? Castration?” Sarah looked incredulously at her friend.
Fiona made a face at Sarah and smiled sardonically.
“I want to take this further Sarah. To introduce another element to my control of Peter. I want him to ask me to sleep with other men Sarah. There isn’t any subtle way to put it. There, it is out now. Am I still a she devil?”
Sarah raised her eyebrows and looked across at Fi.
“Are you trying to destroy him Fi? I don’t quite see what is driving this?”
“Absolutely not. I love Peter, and he adores me. So far we have found a way to increase my sexual pleasure and to give Peter a set of defined rules to enable that to be achieved. This gives him a huge thrill, and also scares him. The combination is electric. We are adults. He has a choice.”
“Perhaps his love for you is the real prison cell Fi, not his chastity thingy.”
“In vino veritas darling,” Fiona responded, watching her dear friend neck the last few drops of her cognac and wave the balloon high in the air beckoning the waiter over for two more refills. She played the sozzled hotty role so well, everyone just adored Sarah when she relaxed properly.
“But I want to increase that control. To make it clear to Peter that he may never be released, and may never have sex with me again, at least not penetrative sex. So far he thinks this is a game. If I sleep with someone else it reinforces the fact that he isn’t required to fulfil that function any more, especially if it is he who insists on it. That is why the idea is so hot, so appealing. It would be his idea. He copes with the consequences, I simply engage in the act.”
“Wow, Fi. You really are playing with fire here. I can’t see Peter agreeing to that at all. If I was him I would just leave you. This is infidelity, not some perfunctory tup”
Fiona tilted her head and grimaced. I don’t think that he will not leave me. I am pretty sure of that. In fact I think that I can get him to beg me to sleep with other men, and if he does, then I will, and do it properly too.”
“Well, I shall be very interested to hear how it goes Fi. But be careful. You are playing with some pretty heavy emotions here, and involving a third party is only going to add to the complications.”
Fiona pulled her hair back behind hers ears reflectively and changed the subject, there was little point in conjecture now. She had told Sarah what she intended to do and it would either happen or it wouldn’t.
Their conversation descended into a giggly girly mess and finally the two girls, arm in arm, helped each other upstairs. They had enjoyed a very happy evening together as only the closest of friends can.
Fiona remained calm, sitting on the edge of the sofa with her hands on her knees. Peter was on his knees, in tears, looking up into her eyes, his bottom lip quivering, gulping back his sobs.
“Do not argue with me Peter, and do not whine either. I will decide when you are released and that is final. If you don’t like that then go and get the thing cut off. You know the number, go ahead.”
Peter looked at his wife helplessly. He got so frustrated sometimes he just didn’t know what else to do but plead and plead.
Fiona stroked his fringe back and ran the back of her hand over his cheeks, wiping his tears away. She loved being a loving bitch, it enriched everything. As she stroked her husband’s cheek she decided the time had come, and she made her move.
“I am going to release you soon Peter, I promise. I will also let you cum. But only on two conditions, and both of them are non-negotiable.
Peter looked u , looking closely into Fiona’s eyes, trying to understand. Deep down he had resolved that his release would come, but he expected that to be a long way off.
“Firstly, I have decided that it will be good for you to have some alternative method of control when out of chastity, to maintain your discipline. It would be a pity if all the hard work you have put in to date was wasted by your, how shall I put it, your libido.
So I have decided that when out of chastity you will not enter me unless I give you permission. Secondly, before I release you, you will have to insist that I sleep with another man.”
Peter looked at Fiona. He felt a huge rush of adrenalin. The very thought of his wife being unfaithful had never occurred to him. He knew she wouldn’t do that. The pain of jealousy would be too much to bear. But this was different. He looked up searchingly onto Fiona’s eyes. Was she really serious?
“You must insist I take a lover Peter. You must be absolutely genuine in your desire for me to sleep with another man. Then it will be up to me. I will choose whether to ignore you and keep you locked up, or accept your request, sleep with someone else and then release you for a while.”
Peter’s mind was racing. He felt so many conflicting emotions his head began to swim. He would have to think this over very carefully. Could he cope with that? Could he really cope with that idea? He genuinely had no idea. He knew that if he found out that Fiona was being unfaithful then that would hurt him terribly. But why did this feel different, and why did it also feel so incredibly erotic?
“I need to think about it Fi. I don’t know. It would be a huge thing. I am not sure I could cope with that.”
Fiona stroked his cheek again.
“Well, the decision is yours. You have to decide whether you want me to or not. I am not going to initiate it. I will simply decide whether to comply with your request or otherwise. So there really is no pressure is there?”
Fiona lifted Peter’s face up by the chin and smiled lovingly into his eyes. Peter could feel his head being fucked by his beautiful wife and it was driving him insane with desire and fear. He didn’t think that the situation could get any more exciting and terrifying and yet in an instance Fiona had raised the stakes hugely, giving him a dilemma that was impossible to resolve. No pressure! You have to be kidding, he thought.
Fiona, stood up.
“Right, I am off to work now you have finished your little wobble. You are excused a goodbye kiss today, and I can see that you need to time to think. We will speak again when I get home tonight. Oh, and I expect you to have made your choices from the catalogues too. I am going to place your first order this weekend.”
Peter stayed on the floor as his wife left the house. As he thought about his wife’s request the pressure between his legs grew. He looked down at the elaborate engraving on his smooth metal front and tried to remember what it was like when he could actually touch and feel himself. It seemed a long, long time ago now. Sometimes he felt an almost claustrophobic panic but there was just no way he could get anywhere near his penis, and he would just have to scream in frustration and go and do something else to take his mind off his frustration.
Fiona drummed her fingers on the steering wheel in time with the music. She wondered whether Peter would actually exchange his freedom for her infidelity. She didn’t really want another lover, but she really wanted Peter to ask her. She wanted to enjoy watching Peter’s agonizing feelings of jealousy and humiliation as she took another man inside her, knowing that he wanted her to do it, that he would be prepared to make that sacrifice for his own personal sexual freedom.
The idea that he initiated the act was just so hot. She wanted to push Peter further, to see him exchange his frustation for something much darker, much more tangible. As she contemplated the enormity of the situation the familiar burning wetness returned between her legs and the routine of changing her panties immediately after arriving at the office was starting up all over again. This made her smile, and think to herself:-
‘This must be right , it feels so hot.’
Three weeks later Fiona called the belt company.
“Yes Mrs Carrinton, we can. The removal charge is waived for the wearer’s owner, the penalty clause is solely when the wearer wishes to remove the belt. But we will need your husband for a least twelve hours, and it will take a further week to rebuild the locks. Just give us a few days notice when you are ready and we will do the rest.”
Fiona finished the call. Would Peter or wouldn’t he. Both choices were just too delicious, too perfect. Fiona had never felt so aroused, so consumed with the sublime simplicity of the trial she had set her husband. How she was loving their little game more and more.
Now all she had to do was wait. Peter had the future entirely within his hands. Well nearly, Fiona thought. Best not give the poor fellow too much responsibility. She beamed inwardly. If she smoked, this would have been the perfect time to sit down and reflect, instead Fiona went for a run.
Peter had been through the scenarios in his head over and over again. He wrote out lists, looked at the pros and cons and realized that his situation was quite impossible. But, one Saturday morning he woke up and made his decision. He turned to Fiona and told her what he had decided.
Fiona rolled over to face Peter and kissed him softly.
“You are getting quite good at decisions Peter. I shall have to give you more difficult choices to keep you on your toes.”
With that she pulled her husband closer and guided his fingers down below the duvet. As they kissed Fiona undid his pretty new pink bra and slipped the straps off of his shoulders. They were going to have an unforgettable morning.
Fiona returned from work late the following Tuesday evening, and dropping her bag and keys on the hall table she found her husband on the sofa watching television. He looked up at his wife, and then seeing the expression on her face immediately stood up and brushed down his pinny. He didn’t leave the house at all now, and was required to dress in pretty day dresses all the time. He had even been given an allowance and at the end of each week would put forward his suggestions from a range of on-line catalogues for his wife’s approval.
Parcels usually arrived once or twice a week, and sometimes Peter was quite breathless when he opened them.
Fiona allowed Peter to kiss her on the cheek, turning round to let him take off her coat. Then she sat down, turned off the television and told Peter to sit down next to her.
Her breath smelt slightly of white wine, and she looked just a little flushed. Peter noticed that she had recently re-applied her lipstick and that she had that excited look in her eyes that always excited and frightened him in equal measure.
“Ian is coming round on Saturday evening Peter.”
As she spoke she took her husband’s hands in hers. She could feel his trembling, and her throat went dry.
“”We are going to spend the evening upstairs. You will stay down here and sit just here, very quietly until we come back down.”
Peter tried to remember a time in his life when someone playing in his room upstairs would be the most natural thing in the world. But these words cut through him like a knife. Fiona felt a rush of exquisite pleasure as she soaked up her husband’s fear and humiliation. Peter felt awful but something in his cage grew very hard, straining against the steel causing him to wince and wriggle.
Peter could not reply. Fiona took his face in her hands and kissed him softly. Then she sat back and smiled warmly at her broken baby.
“It will be a very long evening for you I think. Come now, it has been a long day, time for bed.”
On Saturday morning Fiona went out shopping leaving Peter with instructions to change the sheets on their bed and clean the house from top to toe. Peter felt the house start to crush him as he went from room to room. He knew he was preparing the house for his wife’s lover and it made him feel incredibly hot. In the bedroom he spent ages changing the bed, making sure each crisp white linen sheet was perfectly ironed and was neatly in place, flat and wrinkle free. He plumped up each pillow in a new pillowcase and changed the duvet cover. Everything looked fresh and clean and he closed the door carefully. He didn’t know how he felt, but his penis oozed into his panties as he descended the stairs.
That evening Peter busied himself downstairs, arranging and re-arranging ornaments and plumping up pillows in the living room. He couldn’t keep still, and time seemed to be dragging on forever.
Fiona was lying in a hot soapy bath, her left leg in the air. She drew her pink razor down her calf and felt the smooth skin. Then the right leg. Her toe nails were bright red and her feet slim and feminine. She was trying to keep calm and in control. This was going to be a very special evening.
When Fiona came downstairs Peter was surprised to see how normal she looked. He had half expected his wife to descend the stairs like a Queen in a black negligee or a short nightie. Fiona had chosen a plain black skirt below the knee and a crisp Ivory blouse. She looked beautiful, but her beauty was presented subtly, adding to the intensity of the moment. Fiona had chosen her outfit to stir in Peter emotions of love, lust and a desire to protect her. She could see in hjis eyes that he desired her more than ever, but tonight she was going to be someone else’s.
Fiona said nothing at first, seating herself in an armchair opposite the sofa as if to make a point about the distance that she was putting between herself and her husband this evening. Peter struck a lonely figure alone on the sofa, hands on his knees looking shyly over to his wife. You could hear a pin drop.
A minute later a car pulled up outside. The door closed and the gate squeaked open. Peter’s heart started pounding.
“Open the door Peter and greet my guest.”
Peter looked at his wife in panic. He wasn’t actually going to meet him. Surely she wasn’t expecting him to endure that.”
Fiona’s voice was calm but authoritative. There was no question of disobedience.
Peter stood up. His wife had made him change into jeans and a jumper much to his relief.
“Your femininity is mine, no-one else’s’ she had told him.
Besides we don’t want Ian to think that you are some sort of pervert now do we now?”
Peter stood up. One minute at a time, he thought to himself. If it is too awful I can always just go into the garden. He was shaking now. Fiona smiled to herself. This was just too incredible for words.
Ian was a good looking man, about Peter’s age, perhaps an inch or so taller and quite chiseled in his features. He greeted Peter with a warm handshake and waited politely to be asked in.
“Yes hello. I am Peter. Come in.”
Ian wiped his shoes politely on the mat and came in.
“Fi is in the living room.”
Peter led the way and Ian followed him in.
Fiona stood up and kissed Ian on both cheeks warmly.
“How nice to see you. Do take a seat. Can I get you a drink? A glass of wine perhaps”
“That would lovely thanks. Whatever is open.”
Fiona turned to Peter.
“Would you dear?”
Peter left the two of them together and prepared the drinks in the kitchen. The situation was just so ordinary, a guest for drinks on a Saturday evening, and yet this was the most incredible rush.
When he returned Fiona was sitting on the arm of the sofa with her hand on Ian’s shoulder. Peter put the tray down on the coffee table and handed Ian and Fiona their drinks. He then took his and sat opposite them on the armchair again.
“Cheers!” Fiona said brightly, clinking Ian’s glass.
Peter started to rise from his seat to clink their glasses but the moment had passed. Again he felt a twinge of isolation. His conversation had withered away and he sat there wondering what on earth could happen next to make the atmosphere in the room any more charged.
Fiona took a long sip of wine and then stood up.
“We are going upstairs for the evening Peter. I want you to stay here until we come back down. I want this door left open and the television off thank you.”
Ian stood up and followed Fiona out of the room in silence, and Peter watched his wife as she walked upstairs closely followed by her lover. He sat down. Nothing could have prepared himself for the erotic pain and humiliation of that moment. He thought his penis would burst from its cage.
There was very little noise from upstairs for the first half an hour or so. Peter flicked through the paper and tried to think about anything other than where his wife was. Then he heard a giggle, followed by a gasp. Peter looked down and bit his lip. Try to breathe normally, he thought. It was happening now.
Fiona took her time in the bedroom. They chatted and sipped their wine, and they kissed for the first time after about twenty minutes. She undressed slowly, teasingly, running her fingers through his hair, pulling his belt open, sliding her hand into his zipper. She wanted this to be an evening of unhurried sex, not a squalid quickie. That was exactly the point. She wanted to choreograph her humiliation of Peter over as long a period as possible, and she wanted to enjoy Ian’s hard cock inside her over and over again.
She was not to be disappointed. That is exactly what she did enjoy, and over and over again.
Peter was treated to all manner of gasps and screams throughout the evening, each one burning into his soul. How cruel for Fiona to keep the bedroom door open. He recognized all her sounds, they had been up to this point personal and intimate reflections of their own love life. Not now. His wife was upstairs being fucked gloriously by another man and was clearly enjoying herself enormously, and it was he who asked her to do it. His humiliation was complete. He stared at the ceiling as the lightshade quivered rhythmically in time with the thumping headboard as Mrs Fiona Carrington let out a long high pitched scream that filled the house with the sound of infidelity.
“Well Peter, if that is your wish then yes, you can change your mind. ”
Peter looked at his wife. It was early Sunday afternoon and they sat opposite each other in the kitchen over a light lunch. Fiona looked radiant and full of life, still dressed in her nightie and a thin robe. She had reason to be. She had spent almost 14 hours in bed until Ian had slipped quietly out of the door at 10 am this morning. Peter had fallen asleep on the sofa at 5am and missed his departure. But when he woke up the agony of the previous evening returned to haunt him almost immediately.
“Yes, I am prepared to keep you in permanent chastity, but you must understand that I can’t reverse what has happened last night. Nor would I want to.”
Fiona uttered the last sentence quietly, but with a cold and brutal honesty in her voice.
“In fact Peter, I can’t wait for the next time.”
“But Fi. You gave me a choice, and I made the wrong one. I can see that now. I was silly thinking that my release, even temporary was worth this happening. I don’t think it is, and I will try to be a good husband in chastity again, without other, other men involved.”
Peter was welling up. Fiona was getting wet.
“As I said Peter, I understand your wish, and you may stay in chastity. But I can’t unfuck Peter and you can’t take back your request for me to do that. You asked me to sleep with Ian and that is what I did, and what is more that is what I will continue to do. You made the choice darling, I simply went along with your wishes.”
Peter knew that everything was now hopeless.
Fiona placed her knife and fork down neatly and taking Peter by the hand she led him upstairs. He looked helpless and lost. The bedroom was a mess, and the sheets were still damp and ruffled. Fiona sat on the edge of the bed and undid her robe, lifting her nightie up to her waist. Peter kneeled down in front of her and pulled her panties down, pulling them over her buttocks, down over her knees and then off. Fiona lent back, her elbows on the bed and wrapped her legs over her husband’s shoulders. Peter was going to spend the afternoon cleaning, starting with his wife.