I woke with a smile, though the details of whatever dream I’d been having eluded me. Perhaps I was imagining things but as I looked over at Cheryl, just starting to stir, it felt like I could still taste her pussy on my lips. 

Cheryl seemed to wake with warm memories as well, as her lips were curled in a smile. We rose and began our normal week-day morning routine with only a small touch of awkwardness around each other. Her confession of both sex and interest in Lydia seemed tempered by the moment we’d shared in my pleasuring her. 

I made breakfast and assisted in gathering up her lunch as she got herself ready for work. When she came downstairs, she looked particularly stunning. She was wearing nylons under a skirt that was much tighter and shorter than she typically wore. Similarly, she’d chosen a silk blouse that was unbuttoned down to between her breasts. When she turned or leaned forward, the lace trim of her bra was visible. 

“You look incredible,” I told her.

She smiled a bit sheepishly. 

“I hope it’s not too much,” she said. “I guess all this attention has me feeling a bit sexy.”

I knew what she meant by attention and there was a bit of a pang in my heart. It wasn’t just me between her thighs, it was Lydia too. She was desired and she felt it and clearly, the idea of feeling more of it was appealing to her. That outfit would do wonders, I was sure, into turning the heads of the men she worked with, and perhaps a few of the women too. 

“Well, you look spectacular, I said, hiding behind a smile.

I watched her leave as I now always did, today with the added appreciation of the way her body looked and moved in her skirt. I sighed. Sending my wife off to work to be ogled at and lusted after by other men while knowing she’d dressed for just that purpose seemed to be yet another step if removing my feeling of masculinity or power. 

That feeling did not lessen at all as I made my way downstairs and changed into a pair of panties and put on stockings. As though inspired by my wife, I chose my sexiest pair, complete with garters. I was still looking at my reflection in them when a message came in from Liam. 

“Don’t wear anything over your lingerie today. Plug your ass with the remote-control plug. Put on your ankle and wrist cuffs, as well as your collar.”

I sighed.  I was used to the lingerie by now, of course, but it still made me nervous to be without my outer clothes in the house. It wasn’t as if I was allowed to keep my outer clothes nearby, so any knock at the door would fill my mind with panic and fear of discovery. 

I walked back upstairs, all my clothes folded and placed on a bench down in the basement sanctuary, and made my way to my office. Sitting down, I felt the fullness of the plug’s presence, making my constant submission even more impossible to forget.

I sat at my desk and decided to check my kink email account as I hadn’t checked in since I’d set up the OnlyFans account. My browser seemed to be working slowly for a moment but when it refreshed, my jaw nearly hit the floor. 

There were hundreds of emails. Scrolling through the list, I saw notifications from the site about new subscribers, comment and like notifications on the posts, as well as more than a few personal messages in my inbox. It was too much to deal with at this level at that moment, so I decided to log into my OnlyFans account and look for some overall numbers. 

Somehow, my account already had over 300 subscribers. At the rate that had been set to start and after the cut taken by the corporation, I was already due to take in nearly $4,000 in the first month. My eyes widened, doing some quick math to estimate that that was nearly half what I took in doing my consulting work in a pretty good month. 

As I was looking it all over, I received another message from Liam.

“As you can see,  you’re going to need a steady stream of content to satisfy your fans. This is your assignment for today. I will share with you a folder of selected photographs of your service to me and for me. You will select four or five photos per day or session, grouped together thematically. Some events, like Poker Night, can be split up into multiple posts. You will NOT crop or edit the photographs in any way. You will add a caption to each photograph, written in first person as Crissy. By the end of today, you are to have 15 posts uploaded to the queue. You will schedule them to be posted every Monday and Thursday. We will go over your other responsibilities and tasks in person soon.”

Notification of his sharing of the folders full of photos came immediately and it began to sink in just how much work I had to do to complete this task. 

It was torment to go through the photos. Moment by moment, pose by pose, I had to relive my humiliation and degradation. The photos shared with me were obviously copies, as my face had been cropped out of the early photographs that had been the first to cement his power over me. 

I felt myself sinking into the weak, helplessness of the situations as I began composing the captions. 

“Sissy Crissy kneels to suck on her Master’s cock.”

“Sissy Crissy is bent over and displayed for her Master’s amusement.”

“Sissy Crissy jerks her clitty as Master commands.”

“Sissy Crissy waits, face down and ass up, for her Master to arrive.”

“Sissy Crissy locks her clitty in a chastity cage for the first time.”

“Master is the first person to have sex in Sissy Crissy’s new house.”

“Sissy Crissy’s ass is plugged full of her Master’s cum.”

“Sissy Crissy learns to suck a rubber cock while her ass is plugged and her clitty is locked up tight.”

They just kept getting worse, and I felt the emotions of each of those situations again as if I was reliving them. 

“Sissy Crissy is put on display in her lingerie in the Sex Shop.”

“Sissy Crissy leaves his wife naked upstairs while he wears her bra and panties to please his Master.”

“Sissy Crissy sucks a stranger’s cock in the men’s room of an Italian restaurant.”

“Sissy Crissy wears a pink ribbon tied around her little clitty to amuse her Master.”

“Sissy Crissy waits on her knees for her Master to arrive.”

He had started to include photos from the cameras installed in my house. The downward angle and wide-angle look of the images would make it obvious that I was under surveillance. I could already imagine the comments that would come in.

“Sissy Crissy strokes her Master’s cock while his wife is upstairs.”

“Sissy Crissy plays with her friend Brooke for the first time.”

Knowing or perhaps guessing what was expected of me, I added in links to Brooke’s live-streaming site along with that post.

“Sissy Crissy is fucked by Brooke while all her online fans watch.”

It just went on and on and on. The photos started to show more and more of me, and by the time I was back at Brooke’s with no disguise by my makeup and wig, the photos were displaying that too. 

“Master cums on Crissy while he is wearing his wife’s bra.”

“Sissy Crissy is tied up in her secret dungeon while Master spends time with her wife.”

There was a confessional feeling that was growing in the captions I wrote, as if I wanted these strangers to know just how depraved and helpless I was, thanks to details that they would never have guessed if I hadn’t told them.

“Sissy Crissy sucks a stranger's cock to earn a ride to the restaurant where  his wife is waiting for her.”

“Sissy Crissy is used as a party favour during her Master’s poker night.”

“Sissy Crissy is drunk with a belly full of cum.”

“Sissy Crissy is pegged on all fours at the Sex Shop.”

“Shoppers at the Sex Shop ride Crissy’s dildo for their own pleasure.”

Mentioning the name of the store, I realised, might lead my subscribers to try to find me there. I wondered how many of these anonymous viewers online were in the same city as I was. 

Choosing the photos and creating the captions and uploading them all in the post queue took all day, with only a short break for lunch. Plugged and dressed in nothing but lingerie, I didn’t feel like I could waste time or relax. Adding to my humiliation was my frustrating arousal. 

Having my ass plugged in combination with reliving all those events had my mind buzzing with submissive feelings and my cock, or my sissy clitty, aroused and hard and leaking. I didn’t dare reach down and touch myself — I was afraid that any contact at all would make me explode. 

I felt so depraved and horny. I was leaning back in my office chair, dressed in panties and garters, with my ass stuffed full of a toy, and I’d spent the whole time itemising the details of my downfall into this depravity. The process had humiliated me but aroused me just as much. 

Just then, the dildo started to buzz inside me. I gasped out loud and gripped the edge of the desk. My whole body trembled and shook. I thought that I could endure it, if only it would stop soon. I gritted my teeth and tried to breathe slowly. I held on tight to the desk and tried to stop the involuntary grinding of my hips in the chair. I just needed to hang on a little longer I was sure, and then it would stop.

But it didn’t stop. It just kept on humming and vibrating faster and faster, until at last I lost my struggle. Without any contact to my cock at all, I started cumming and cumming, filling my panties with warm gooey cum. 

The spasms of my cock had barely ceased when the message came in from Liam. 

“Take a photo of the mess in your panties and post it live right away. Include a description about how it turns your sissy ass on so much to share your perverted depravity with your followers that you just couldn’t help cumming in your panties. You will then go live to the chat area and answer any questions that your followers have. You will do that until 5:30 and only then are you allowed to clean yourself and get dressed for Cheryl’s return home. Have fun with your fans!”

I blushed alone in my office. With the high of arousal fading quickly, I was left with the humiliation of sitting in my own cum-stained panties, having to immediately confess my humiliation to strangers. 

I took a quick photo of my rapidly shrinking cock swimming in the sticky mess and made the post. The dashboard page let me know that there were 34 of my followers currently online, so I knew that it would be seen right away.

I found the chat function and entered the room under my account. To my surprise, there was almost immediate engagement. These men were telling me how sexy I was, how amazing and how slutty my photos were, and how much they were turned on by my predicament. It felt so strange to hear. 

I started thanking them and telling them I was glad to be able to share this with them — though of course the panic of exposure and discovery terrified me. The questions started quickly as well, and it was a challenge to keep up. 

Was I really married? Did she really not know? What would happen if she found out?

I answered each one as honestly and frankly as I could, rushing to keep up with them. I had to wonder through it all if Liam was watching or monitoring me, ensuring that I was being as open as he’d required. If any answer was to come from that, all that I got was the plug in my ass starting to hum and vibrate once more. 

It seemed to happen that as the toy made me horny again and I felt the forced arousal stiffening my cock once more, the men in the chat room started getting horny as well. They started sharing what they either wanted to do with me, or wanted to happen to me. Some of them were sexy and hungry, but there were more than a few who were wicked and almost cruel. 

I couldn’t help imaging some of the scenarios they pitched and I was again overtaken by the thought of Liam watching and reading this too — as if he needed more ideas of how to make me sink even more completely into his control and torment. 

One particular message that caught my attention was from someone who, from the look of their screen name, was also a submissive. It helped me to notice him, I suppose, because his name was similar to mine. He called himself KrisKaged and there was something about the way he expressed his emotions that was so familiar to me. He wasn’t repeating what I’d said, or saying to the group how much he would wish or hope to do what I was doing — he just seemed to find the words to express my own emotions back to me.

He sent me a private DM, and I was about to just delete it but the words jumped out at me. 

“That sex toy store is the one on 7th, isn’t it?”

I felt my face heat up. Fuck. Knowing Liam, I was going to end up back there and back in the giddy torment of Ashley at one point or another, and now this man might be there. It made yet another connection between this version of me and my otherwise normal life. 

“Yes, it is,” I replied, thinking there was no point in lying. 

“I love that place. I’ve often imagined being in that cage myself. I’ve never had the courage.”

“I never did either,” I answered. “Until I met my Master.”

“Lucky.”

“Well, sometimes I wonder — but I wished for things like this for a long time, and now they are happening.”

“Sounds lucky to me… but I haven’t dared to do much yet, certainly not out like you have, so maybe that is all talk.”

Going back and forth between the general chat and this private thread, time was passing very quickly. Glancing at the clock, I realised that my time was up. I informed Kris that I had to go, and said my goodbyes in the chat and received some kind thanks and some anguished messages about me leaving too soon. I had no choice, as I really did need to clean up and get ready for Cheryl’s return. 

Downstairs, I peeled the panties off and quickly hand-washed them and left them to air dry in the basement room. After a quick shower, I re-dressed. My own clothes felt rough and heavy at the end of a day like that, making me miss the soft and sexy sensations of silk and satin and lace.

I forced those thoughts from my mind and concentrated on dinner. It was Friday night, and the weekend stretched out before me. Just a few weeks ago, the weekends meant a forced break from my secret, kinky online activities but now that my Master lived next door, I was quite sure I didn’t have that break coming this time.