Peter’s eyes fluttered open as the soft morning light filtered through the blinds, casting faint golden patterns across the room. His hand instinctively drifted down towards his waist, only to be met by the cold, unyielding steel of the chastity belt locked tightly around him. A wave of frustration mixed with helpless arousal washed over him as he felt the persistent pressure against his painfully hard cock.

He longed for the release of a morning wank, a simple pleasure now far out of reach. The thought sent his mind spiralling back to the moment the keys had slipped into Richard’s possession after the fragile chain on Victoria’s necklace had snapped. His stomach twisted at the memory, his body throbbing with equal parts embarrassment and arousal.

Victoria had always been the more adventurous one between them, her confidence and boldness in the bedroom both thrilling and intimidating. Peter loved that about her, but her fascination with chastity had quickly escalated to new extremes. This belt—unyielding, inescapable, and excruciatingly snug—felt like a final step in her dominance. Was it custom-made just for him? The thought both unnerved and excited him, a pulse of raw desire igniting in his gut despite his predicament.

The frustration of knowing that the power over his pleasure now rested entirely in Victoria’s hands—or worse, Richard’s—left Peter squirming under the sheets. His mind raced, trapped between resentment and a deep, undeniable arousal at the control she wielded over him.

Peter’s thoughts sharpened as he stretched under the covers, his frown deepening with the sting of memory. The image of his wife, Victoria, and his boss, Richard, at the Christmas party, flashed in his mind. The way they’d laughed together, shared knowing glances, and the kiss they’d stolen under the mistletoe. His stomach churned as he replayed it all, each detail a reminder of how powerless he had felt.

He sighed heavily, the weight of it all pressing against his chest as he swung his legs over the side of the bed. His so-called “freedom” didn’t feel like freedom at all anymore. Not when Victoria’s playful dominance had started to feel more like control, and Richard’s smug grin seemed to linger in the air like a taunt.

Peter rubbed the sleep from his eyes and scanned the room. His gaze landed on the empty hook by the door, the place where his dressing gown should have been. Another sigh escaped him, tinged with irritation. Even in the privacy of his own bedroom, he felt exposed, and stripped of authority.

With a grunt, he pushed himself to his feet. The chill of the morning air wrapped around him as he shuffled to the door, the weight of his emasculation heavy in his chest. Even here, even now, he couldn’t escape the gnawing sense that he was no longer the man he used to be.

From the top of the stairs, Peter's voice echoed, “Victoria! Have you seen my dressing gown?”

Her casual reply floated up from the kitchen, “No, I haven’t! Why don’t you use mine instead?”

Peter muttered under his breath, irritation evident in his tone, “Use yours? Fantastic… just what I need.”

He drags his feet across the room still in his pyjama bottoms and now in a mild state of frustration over how horny he was and the fact his dressing gown was missing. He grabs her pink dressing gown from the hook, slipping into it with a resigned sigh. He adjusts the soft fabric over his waist, catching a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror—his chastity belt hidden under the gown but still present, and it’s enough to make him wince.

Peter walks into the kitchen in his slippers and the pink dressing gown, still mentally adjusting to the morning’s reality. But as soon as he enters, his eyes widen at the sight of Victoria standing by the counter, smoothing out the fabric of a tight red dress. She’s applying red lipstick, her heels already on, looking polished and sleek.

Peter felt his cock stir inside the chastity belt at the sight of his sexy wife all dress up. He blurted out, “Whoa. What’s the occasion?”

Victoria looks over her shoulder, flashing him a sly smile as she finishes touching up her makeup. She turns, giving him a full look at her figure in the red dress with her massive tits on full display, the high heels clicking as she steps toward him. Her lips curl into a teasing grin.

With a playful tone, she replies, “Oh, no special occasion. I’m just going to the shops.”

Peter’s eyes drop to her heels, the tight fit of the dress, and then flicker down to his own pink dressing gown. He raises an eyebrow in disbelief.

Peter looked at her in confusion as he responded, “Shopping? In that?”

Victoria’s grin widens as she leans in slightly, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Yeah, why not? I can wear what I want, Peter. You just seem so... sensitive when you’re in chastity.”

Peter’s face goes slightly red as he stumbles for a response, feeling the weight of the chastity belt and its reminder under his gown. He looks down at himself—pink, fluffy, and completely out of place compared to Victoria’s glam.

Victoria picked up her purse with a confident flick of her wrist, handing Peter a neatly folded list. He stared at it, still trying to process the situation.

With her usual bossy tone, she said, “Anyway, while I’m out, here’s a list of chores for you to get started on.”

Peter’s gaze shifted from the list to her stylish outfit, then back to his own pink dressing gown and slippers. The contrast couldn’t feel more humiliating.

Catching the look on his face, Victoria laughed, her eyes gleaming with amusement. “That’s right,” she teased. “You’ve got plenty to keep you busy while I’m out shopping. And don’t pout too much—those chores should distract you from your… locked state.”

She stepped toward the door, her heels clicking purposefully on the floor. As she reached the doorway, she glanced back over her shoulder with a playful smirk.

“At least I know you’ll be nice and horny for me tonight,” she added, her tone dripping with mischief, before disappearing out the door.

Peter watches her stride down the driveway, the sway of her hips impossible to ignore as his cock tries to break through the chastity belt. He glances back at the list in his hand, sighing deeply. With a grimace, he begins to unfold it, resigned to tackling the chores while the teasing echoes in his mind.

The warm aroma of roasted coffee beans filled the small café, blending with the soft hum of chatter and the occasional hiss of the espresso machine. Victoria stepped through the door, her coat cinched tightly at her waist, cheeks flushed from the winter chill. She scanned the room, her eyes landing on Richard seated at a corner table. His confident posture and easy smile made him stand out even among the bustling crowd.

Richard looked up, his eyes lighting up as he saw her. He rose slightly from his chair, gesturing for her to join him. “Victoria,” he greeted, his voice smooth and warm. “I wasn’t sure you’d make it.”

She smiled, slipping off her coat to reveal a tight red dress that hugged her curves, paired with a chic scarf. “Well, I couldn’t leave my favourite necklace in limbo, could I?” she said lightly, her tone playful as she took the seat across from him.

Richard chuckled, leaning back in his chair, his gaze lingering on her for a moment longer than necessary. “Of course not. A piece like that deserves attention... much like its owner.”

Victoria tilted her head, arching a brow as she gave him a knowing smirk. “Careful, Richard. Flattery will only get you so far.”

“Then I’ll just have to be persistent,” he replied smoothly, his grin widening.

A barista appeared, setting a latte in front of her and a black coffee in front of him. Victoria stirred her drink leisurely, the spoon clinking softly against the ceramic. “So,” she began, her voice casual but with an unmistakable edge of curiosity, “any luck with the necklace?”

Richard moved the sugar bowl to the centre of the table as he replied. “The jeweller says it’s a simple fix,” he explained, his fingers brushing hers briefly as she reached towards the sugar bowl. “It should be fixed next week, but I feel like there is something more to the necklace and keys than just it being a piece of jewellery”

Victoria’s lips parted slightly, her eyes narrowing in playful suspicion. “Really?”

Richard leaned forward, lowering his voice. “That maybe the keys are important, and not the necklace?”

Her breath hitched for a fraction of a second before she let out a soft laugh, masking the faint flush creeping up her neck. “You always did have a way with words,” she said, her tone cool but her eyes betraying her intrigue.

“It’s a gift,” he said, shrugging as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Richard’s expression didn’t falter as he leaned back in his chair, his smile taking on a coy edge as he changed the topic of the conversation. “Does Peter know we’re meeting?”

Victoria’s expression didn’t falter as she leaned back in her chair, her smile taking on a coy edge. “Peter? No, he doesn’t know,” she replied breezily. Then, with a glint of mischief in her eyes, she added, “Why? Can’t a woman be friends with a handsome, confident, successful man?”

Richard chuckled deeply, his fingers tracing the rim of his coffee cup. “Friends, huh?” he mused, his tone dripping with playful scepticism. “I guess I can’t argue with that.”

“I mean it,” she said, her voice dropping just enough to draw him in further. “A woman can appreciate a man’s... qualities without it meaning anything, can’t she?”

Richard leaned forward slightly, his eyes locking with hers as the corner of his mouth lifted into a small, almost predatory smile. “Maybe you can,” he said, his voice low and deliberate. “But me? I could never be just friends with such a beautiful woman.”

Victoria laughed, the sound soft and melodic, and as she reached across the table, her hand lightly rested on his. Her fingers brushed his knuckles, and she left her hand there, her touch warm and lingering. “Well, Richard,” she teased, “it’s a good thing I’m such a friendly person, then.”

His lips curved into a slow grin. “It’s a good thing for me, too,” he countered, his thumb subtly brushing hers for a brief moment.

Victoria leaned back slightly, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Speaking of friendly, Christmas is the best time of year for that, isn’t it? Everyone’s so... generous.”

“Generous is one way to put it,” Richard replied, his tone rich with suggestion. “It’s a season of traditions, after all. Like mistletoe. Funny how something so small can create such... memorable moments.”

She tilted her head, her smile widening as she let out another laugh, this one a little louder, a little freer. “Oh, I’m sure you love traditions like mistletoe,” she teased. “A chance to make things... interesting.”

“Only when the right person’s involved,” he quipped, his grin widening.

Her hand reached over and rested on his, her fingers lightly tapping as she met his gaze. “And what’s your favourite part of Christmas, Richard?”

He paused for a moment, leaning closer as if sharing a secret. “The surprises,” he said, his voice dropping just enough to send a small shiver down her spine. “The things you don’t plan for... but end up thinking about long after they’ve passed.”

Victoria’s smile faltered for just a heartbeat before returning, her hand giving his a light squeeze before she finally pulled it away, reaching for her latte. “I can’t argue with that,” she murmured, her voice softer now.

The unspoken words hung between them, the heat of their flirtation making the bustling café fade into the background.

Peter stands at the kitchen sink, scrubbing dishes with meticulous care, his legs still encased in his worn-out pyjama bottoms and his arms covered in bright pink rubber gloves. He’s trying to focus on the task at hand, but his mind keeps wandering back to the conversation he had with Victoria earlier in the week about the necklace—and the chastity keys attached to it. With each dish he scrubs, his frustration grows, and he sighs as he rinses off another plate.

The front door creaks open, and Victoria enters, her shopping bags rustling with the sound of her successful trip. She steps into the kitchen, setting the bags down on the counter with a soft thud. Peter doesn't immediately acknowledge her, still lost in thought as he scrubs the last of the dishes.

Victoria cheerfully called out, "Hey, Peter. I’m back from the shops."

Peter didn’t turn around immediately, his voice betraying his growing tension as he responded, "Did you find everything you needed?"

Victoria set her purse down on the counter, nodding as she replied, "Yeah, I did. Actually, I ran into Richard while I was out. We grabbed a coffee together."

Peter froze for a moment, the scrub brush hanging limp in his hand. His blood ran cold as he processed her words. Slowly, he set the dish aside with a soft clink, turning to face her with concern flashing in his eyes.

"Richard?" he asked, his tone tightening. "While you were out shopping? You had coffee with him?"

Victoria shrugged casually as she began unpacking the items from her shopping bags. "Yeah, it was nice. We hadn’t caught up since the party."

Peter clenched his jaw, trying to keep the irritation from rising. Glancing at his rubber gloves, he felt the absurdity of the situation wash over him. He took a deep breath, trying to centre himself, then looked back at her, his voice taking on a more pointed edge. "Did you ask him when he’ll have the necklace ready?"

Victoria’s hand stilled as she placed an item on the counter. She flashed him a quick, almost guilty smile, but then quickly looked away. "Oh, no," she admitted with a little apologetic shrug. "I completely forgot. Sorry about that. We were talking about Richard’s bodybuilding hobby and his successful investments. I got sidetracked."

Peter’s frustration was now fully evident as he set the dish down and took a step closer to her. His voice sharpened, dripping with disbelief. "Really, Victoria? You forgot to ask him about the necklace? You spent all that time with him, and you didn’t even think to ask?"

Sensing his growing frustration, Victoria stood a little straighter, crossing her arms defensively. "It wasn’t like that. We were just talking, Peter! Richard’s been really into bodybuilding lately, and he was telling me about some investments he’s made. It wasn’t some big scheme to avoid your chastity keys."

Peter sighed, his eyes flashing with annoyance. He turned back to the sink, running water over his hands as he tried to calm himself. "I just don’t get it, Victoria. It’s been days, and every time I ask about the necklace, it’s like you just... forget. How hard is it to ask him when he’ll have it ready?"

Victoria’s eyes narrowed. She took a step forward, her voice sharp. "You know what, Peter? I’m allowed to have a conversation without everything being about you and your damn chastity keys. We can’t just talk about your cock all the time. Maybe I wanted to hear about Richard’s life and not just about your cock!"

Peter turned around, his frustration now bubbling over. "I’m not trying to make it all about me!" he snapped, his voice rising. "I’m just trying to get this off my cock so I can cum—"

Victoria interrupted sharply, raising her voice in frustration. "I’m not some robot that exists only to fulfill your needs, Peter! I’m allowed to have a coffee with a friend, and I’m allowed to forget one little thing without it being some huge issue! Stop being so selfish!"

The room was thick with tension. Both of them stood there, each trying to hold their ground. Peter, still wearing the ridiculous pink rubber gloves, stood in silence for a moment, trying to calm himself. His hands gripped the edge of the counter tightly, knuckles whitening.

"I’m not being selfish," Peter muttered, his voice tight. "I just don’t like how you’re brushing this off. The necklace was important. But, of course, you’re too busy with Richard’s bodybuilding and his investments to care about what’s actually important to me."

Victoria took a deep breath, her anger simmering beneath the surface. She stared at him for a moment before her voice softened, though the edge was still clear. "Maybe if you weren’t so focused on your own agenda, Peter, you’d realize I’ve got my own things going on too. Just because I’m not doing what you want doesn’t mean I’m neglecting you or being inconsiderate."

"Maybe you should think about how you’re treating me before you blame everything on Richard," she said softly, almost regretfully. "I’m not the one making this complicated."

With that, she leaves the room, and Peter is left standing by the sink, his pink rubber gloves now feeling like an even more ridiculous reminder of his growing frustration.

The soft glow of the bedside lamp casts a warm light over the room. Victoria lies in bed, propped up on her pillows, her phone in her hand.

Richard: People are going to think you are such a naughty girl for kissing Peter's boss again, Victoria. You know what you need? A good spanking. 🍑💋

Victoria: Oh, really? And who's going to deliver this "punishment"—you?

Richard: Absolutely. Someone has to teach you to behave. 🔥

Victoria bit her lip as she read his words, her heart racing. She could feel a heat spreading through her body, the thrill of Richard's boldness leaving her breathless.

Victoria: Hmm... and how exactly would you teach me, Richard?

Richard: I’d start by bending you over my knee and making sure you feel every single swat. ✋😈

Victoria squirmed in her bed, imagining the scenario he painted. Her cheeks flushed as her thoughts wandered, the teasing exchange igniting something she hadn’t expected.

Victoria: Oh my... You sound like you’ve done this before.

Richard: Let’s just say I know how to handle a naughty girl like you. 😉

Her breath quickened as her fingers hovered over the phone. The idea of Richard taking control was intoxicating, and her mind raced with possibilities.

Victoria: I might just have to misbehave more often, then. That sounds... irresistible...

Richard: Careful, Victoria. You might bite off more than you can handle.

Victoria could feel her pulse thundering in her ears, her body alight with anticipation. She leaned closer to the screen, as if drawn by the intensity of his words.

Victoria: Or maybe I’ll get exactly what I deserve. 😘

Richard: Oh, trust me, you would. And you’d thank me for it.

Victoria could hardly type as her hands trembled slightly, the weight of their flirtation building.

Victoria: I think I’m starting to like the sound of that, Richard... maybe more than I should. 🔥

Peter enters the room, still in his work clothes, his tie loose around his neck. He notices her before anything else, his eyes catching something just above her collarbone.         

Peter’s gaze lingers on the faint, dark mark on her neck—a small bruise, unmistakably shaped like a hickey. He narrows his eyes, a knot of suspicion forming in his stomach. He approaches the bed slowly, his voice low, but tense.

Peter squinted, noticing something on Victoria's neck. "Is that a hickey?" he asked, his voice betraying a mix of suspicion and confusion.

Victoria's eyes flickered up from her magazine, her lips pressing into a thin line. She quickly turned her head, trying to conceal the mark with the edge of her hair. The moment she realized Peter had noticed, her expression shifted—slightly harder—and she set the magazine down.

"No, it's just a bruise," she replied casually, though there was an edge to her voice that didn’t go unnoticed.

Peter's eyes narrowed, his arms crossing over his chest as his posture stiffened. He leaned in slightly, not breaking his gaze from her neck. "A bruise? That looks like a hickey, Victoria. From Richard, isn’t it?"

The tension in the room escalated immediately. Victoria’s face flushed with a mix of frustration and anger. She sat up straighter, raising an eyebrow at him, defensive.

"It’s not a hickey, Peter. It’s a bruise. I told you already."

Peter's eyes hardened, narrowing even further. "Don’t lie to me. I’ve seen hickeys before. I know what they look like. Don’t tell me that’s from something else."

Victoria took a slow, measured breath, trying to stay composed. She sat up fully now, her voice tight, her patience clearly beginning to wear thin. "I told you, it’s a bruise. We don’t need to keep rehashing everything, Peter."

Peter's jaw clenched, frustration coursing through him. "Really, Victoria? You spent all that time with him and you couldn’t even remember to ask him about the necklace, and now this? It looks like something Richard would do."

Victoria's eyes flashed with annoyance, and she stood up from the bed, crossing to the dresser. Grabbing her phone, she tapped something on the screen, her tone now colder, more calculated. "You really think so? You think Richard’s the one leaving bruises on me?"

Peter opened his mouth to respond, but she cut him off before he could speak.

"Fine. If you’re going to accuse me of things like that, I’ll just take care of it myself," Victoria snapped. "I’ll tell Richard that I won’t need the necklace back for a month... as punishment for you accusing me like that."

Peter blinked, taken aback by her sudden shift in tone. His eyes widened, confusion and surprise mixing in his expression. “Wait, no, I am sorry, please don’t tell Richard to hold on to the chastity keys for a month!"

"Maybe I’ve been wrong," Peter said softly, regret creeping into his voice. "I didn’t mean to accuse you. I just—I saw it, and I didn’t know..."

Victoria interrupted, her voice firm. "Don’t apologize now, Peter. It’s done. But know this: if you keep questioning me, if you keep making assumptions, don’t be surprised when I start making decisions for myself without consulting you first."

"I'm sorry," Peter blurted out. "I’m so horny, and after what I saw with you and Richard—and the fact he has the keys—it’s so messed up. I just... I just need to cum!"

Victoria’s tone softened as she replied, “Well, maybe if you focused on making your wife happy and fulfilling her needs, you’d be happier and less insecure about my friendship with Richard.”

Peter responded earnestly, “I do want to focus on your needs and happiness. I want my wife to be happy.”

“Good,” she said, walking toward the en-suite bathroom. “Then it’s time to prove it.”

A few minutes later, she opened the bathroom door, wearing a tight, sexy latex outfit paired with latex stockings.

Peter immediately felt himself strain against the chastity belt, his arousal undeniable. He had never seen her look so powerful and alluring before.

She sauntered over, her commanding presence impossible to ignore. With a playful but firm tone, she said, “Strip. Now!”

Peter, caught in a haze of arousal, couldn’t take his eyes off her. His wife looked breathtaking, exuding a mix of power and allure that left him breathless. Clumsily, he fumbled to remove his clothes until he stood there wearing nothing but the unyielding chastity belt.

With a mischievous smirk, she gently pushed him onto the bed, climbing on top to straddle him. Her voice turned teasing as she leaned in close. “Aww, does hubby like what he sees?”

“I do,” he responded eagerly, his excitement plain in his tone.

“Good,” she purred, lowering herself to kiss him deeply. Her hands trailed up his arms, guiding them above his head toward the bed’s railing.

The soft sound of two clicks snapped Peter out of his blissful daze. He opened his eyes and looked up to find his wrists secured with cuffs to the top of the bed.

She leaned in close, her voice dripping with teasing authority. “Hubby can look, but he can’t touch—not after being such a bold boy today,” she murmured, her fingers delicately fondling his balls with one hand while the other toyed with his sensitive nipples.

Peter strained against the chastity belt, his arousal undeniable as his wife maintained complete control, her every move a calculated tease.

“Naughty boys don’t get to cum,” she added with a wicked grin. “So, you’ll be staying locked up until Richard decides to give me the keys.”

With a deliberate and sensual motion, she turned around, positioning herself over his head. Lowering her thick, luscious curves onto his face, she smirked. “Now, show me how much you love me. Prove how badly you want to please me,” she commanded, her tone leaving no room for disobedience.

Peter’s body trembled with arousal, straining against the chastity belt as his tongue gently explored the warmth of her firm, inviting ass. Every movement sent waves of heat through him, his desire amplified by the sight and feel of her thick, curvy ass—something he adored beyond measure.

Cuffed and powerless beneath her, Peter eagerly worshipped her ass, his lips and tongue caressing every inch of her warm skin. As he lavished her with attention, she reached back with one hand, her fingers delicately massaging his restrained balls, adding to his already overwhelming frustration.

Her voice cut through his haze, playful yet commanding. “You know, sweetie,” she purred, “Richard was just telling me how important it is to reciprocate when someone does something nice for you.”

Her voice was low and teasing. “I love when you eat my ass, so maybe it’s time for you to experience a little ass play yourself,” she murmured.

Her body pressed down fully on his face, her warm skin smothering him as her firm asshole remained fixed over his mouth, muffling any response he might have made. Peter’s pulse raced as he felt a slick, lubed finger begin to probe his tight entrance, exploring with deliberate care.

The sensation sent a jolt through his restrained body, his cock straining painfully within the confines of the chastity belt. She let out a soft, satisfied purr, clearly enjoying his eager tongue worshiping her.

Moments later, the pressure shifted. Her finger withdrew, only to be replaced by the tip of a small dildo, pressing firmly and gradually into his ass. The stretch made him moan uncontrollably, his body writhing against his restraints.

“Deeper,” she commanded, her voice laced with playful authority. He obeyed without hesitation, sliding his tongue further into her ass, eliciting a pleased hum from her as she continued to take her pleasure.

Peter was overwhelmed with arousal, his cock painfully straining against the unforgiving chastity belt as Victoria turned on the vibrator in his ass. The gentle buzz sent waves of sensation through him, especially as she expertly massaged his prostate with it. Her other hand worked his balls with practiced precision, heightening his torment.

Precum leaked freely from the chastity cage, but release remained an impossible dream. The frustration was both unbearable and intoxicating.

Above him, Victoria began grinding against his face, her movements growing more insistent. Her breathing quickened, and Peter knew she was close. Desperate to please her, his tongue plunged deeper into her ass, probing and swirling as he licked and sucked with renewed fervor.

Moments later, Victoria cried out, her body trembling as she erupted in a powerful orgasm. Peter’s face was drenched in her ecstasy, but amidst her cries of pleasure, he swore he heard her scream out Richard’s name.

As she came down from her high, she rolled off him with a satisfied sigh, snuggling up to his side. “You’re starting to learn, sweetie,” she murmured, her voice soft and teasing. “Focusing on your wife’s pleasure and happiness—that’s the real key to a happy marriage.”

Without another word, she rolled over and drifted off to sleep, leaving Peter cuffed to the bed. The vibrator hummed relentlessly inside him, while his cock and balls throbbed painfully against the chastity belt, denied any relief.

Lying there in the dim light, he stared at the ceiling, his mind racing. When am I ever going to get the keys back? When am I ever going to get to cum again he thought miserably.