The evening was nice and uneventful. Cheryl enjoyed the dinner and perhaps enjoyed even more that it was ready just moments after she arrived home.
“I could get used to having a house-husband,” she joked.
Our conversation stayed light and inconsequential, as though we were both avoiding heavy topics with a mutual but unspoken agreement. Talk of how to understand her budding desires within our marriage had been heavy for both of us and we didn’t need to go to those depths again right away.
I thought a lot about making her happy as we spent our evening time together. The idea of Liam being better able to satisfy her sexually kept returning to me, and my recent impotence only seemed to cement that thought into reality. Added onto that was her own recent interest in a woman. I was also still coming to terms with the emotions I’d felt out in the backyard in relation to Liam. I had wanted his cock and his cum. It had been visceral and I felt the pang of denial when he’d chosen to jerk himself off onto my face rather than let me taste him directly. If I was becoming less and less capable or suited to sexually pleasing my own wife, how else could I express my love?
It was perhaps silly or simple, but I started to put extra attention into cooking for us, and into cleaning the house. I knew how much she enjoyed having things clean and tidy when she arrived home, rather than being confronted with the kitchen counter a mess or things scattered around the living room. There were other little things too, like rubbing her feet as we relaxed together on the sofa in the evening.
Perhaps it was silly, but it felt good to try to be attentive to her needs and wishes, no matter how small. I was tempted to think of oral sex being another way I could please her, but as things were I wanted to avoid the awkwardness of her trying to reciprocate or otherwise requiring my ability to get hard for her.
The evening ended peacefully with me tucking her into bed before heading back downstairs for a nightcap. Thinking over the day, I was tempted to head downstairs and fill my ass with a toy again but I did not trust myself with that level of sensation given how long it had been since I’d been allowed an orgasm. I turned off the show that I’d been ignoring on the TV, finished my drink, and went upstairs to bed.
I awoke the next morning with the sense of excitement and anticipation that could only come with not knowing at all what might be demanded of me that day. It turned out that there was no better escape from routine than a devious and perverted Master with near total control over one’s life and sexuality.
I did feel guilty in those mornings though as I found that I was almost eager for Cheryl to leave so that whatever might be Liam’s mind for me could begin. I certainly had some intention of being helpful and attentive as I made her breakfast, packed her lunch and made her coffee, but I also knew that every task I did for her helped her out the door faster.
I sent her off with a smile and a kiss in the kitchen, then watched from the window as she backed her car out of the driveway and drove off out of sight. I waited a few minutes and then took my morning dose of pills and then made my way downstairs, getting into my own new morning ritual.
It took just a few minutes to head downstairs, open the hidden door and select a pair of panties and stockings to change into. After a quick glance at myself in them, I covered them up with my “normal man” clothes and went back upstairs.
The truth was hidden now, but I felt it constantly. Not just because of the silky warmth of my legs, or the teasing softness of the panties against my body, but because of the inescapable way these things made me feel inside. It wasn’t as if this had only happened to me since Liam’s discovery of my secrets, but his control had unleashed a flood of emotions and desires within me.
His leverage over me had been terrifying at first, but now it was like a ticket to a kind of freedom and pleasure I had only fantasised about before this. Every day I felt more completely his, and the choices about my life and behaviour were his as well.
I settled into work, with the ache always just under the surface. I tried to be productive whenever I could, never quite knowing when my schedule would be interrupted. Even though I knew the call or text or interruption could come at any time, it still sent a shock and thrill through me when it came.
“Head down to your room downstairs and strip down to just your panties and stockings. Put on your blindfold and wait for me there.”
Liam’s commands were simple and direct and I obeyed without hesitation. I left everything I was doing and rushed downstairs. In just a few moments I was standing there, stripped down to the lace panties and the thigh-high stockings, with the padded leather blindfold over my eyes, leaving me totally in the dark.
I heard the footsteps above me, entering the house and then making their way down to the stairs. He didn’t speak a word, so I could only trust that it was Liam when I heard the door pulled open and the footsteps approached me, stripped and exposed as required.
The strong hands guided me and posed me and prepared me. I was dressed in a bra and felt breast forms pushed into the cups. I felt a waist-cinching corset wrapped around me and laced tightly and mercilessly, shaping my body and making breaths feel impossible. My cock was locked inside a chastity device and I was bent forward and my ass was filled with a large, heavy-feeling plug. My body and mind reacted to being filled by it, and I felt the resistance of the cage holding me back.
The preparation continued, and I felt a dress pulled down over my body and zipped up. It felt tight and clingy around me. I was allowed to sit, which only made the plug tease me more. I felt something pulled over my head and I thought it was some kind of hood at first. As I was able to make sense of the sensations, I realised it was a wig.
I sat there, still and compliant, but my heart was pounding. Next was makeup, it seemed, and I felt foundation brushed over my face, and then lipstick and eyeliner and mascara. Shoes were placed on my feet and bucked on but I had no idea how high the heels were until I was guided to stand and felt just how unstable I was atop them.
I felt a collar placed and locked around my neck and with a click, a leash was affixed to it. It was a silent tug rather than any spoken command that got me walking. I was led without a word out of the room, up the stairs, and out of the house. I hoped that no one saw me leave, though I had no idea how recognizable I was.
I was helped into a car and there was still not a word spoken as the car pulled away. I became suddenly aware that I had nothing at all with me but the clothes I’d been dressed in.
The drive was maybe 15 or 20 minutes, and then I was helped out of the car, and led onwards, still leashed and blindfolded. We entered a building and then an elevator. When it thudded and started upward slowly, I was nearly positive that I recognised where I’d been taken.