The sun was just coming up when Liam dropped me off at home. He walked me to my door and gave me a soft kiss before he went off to his own house. Alone in the quiet house, it started to hit me just how tired I was. I went downstairs and stripped off every bit of my outfit, closing the door on the pile of clothes to be cleaned. I walked back upstairs naked with the cage locked onto me and the plug still sealing in Liam’s load of cum.

I forced myself to take a quick hot shower, but immediately after, I barely had the energy to pull on a pair of boxers before I fell into the bed in the guest room and passed out. My dreams were full of images of sex and use and bliss until I was finally awoken by the ache of my cock trying to get hard in the chastity cage.  

I arose slowly and listened for sounds around me, but I heard nothing. I padded off the bathroom to relieve myself and then pulled on a t-shirt and jeans and left to explore the house. It was just after noon and the house was empty. Cheryl’s bed – as I had honestly started to think of it, rather than ours – was empty and undisturbed. 

I made my way downstairs, put on a pot of coffee, and fixed a simple breakfast for myself. I opened some windows for fresh air, then decided to take my little meal outside to each on the patio. The air was clean and fresh and there were the sounds and smells of a typical, normal Sunday around, like cut grass and barbecued lunches. It was calming. 

I wondered idly where Cheryl might be, but it wasn’t with a feeling of worry or even jealousy. I imagined she was next door, sleeping off her long and adventurous night, perhaps curled up in that large bed with Lydia. Aside from the titillation of having seen some of her submission the night before, it was also warming to see her enjoying herself. She was being led on a journey of discovery, and it seemed that Lydia, and perhaps Liam as well, was helping her explore her submission as well as the rest of her sexual reawakening. I didn’t know quite how I’d gotten there, but I felt happy for her. 

Once my coffee was finished, I lifted myself out of my seat and got busy doing outstanding chores and cleaning. I finished tidying up the remnants of poker night and made a quick assessment for later of what clothing and toys needed to be cleaned inside my hidden room, but I would do that on Monday, once I knew the house would be empty all day. 

I was getting used to being caged and plugged more often and for longer periods of time, but knowing that Liam’s load of cum was trapped inside me or being absorbed by my body somehow was a warming thought. 

By late afternoon, I’d done enough to work up a bit of a sweat, so I rewarded myself with a shower. I took my time, letting the bathroom steam up as I cleaned myself thoroughly, moaning softly as I temporarily removed the plug for cleaning, and then doing the best I could to groom myself around the cage. Stepping out of the shower and seeing myself naked, I really did see the changes that were happening to my body. I felt that Cheryl was bound to notice soon, and I had no idea what I would tell her.

I dressed again and went down to start fixing dinner. I still hadn’t heard from Cheryl, but I wanted to have something ready for her if and when she did return, and she always had until then. I prepped a simple roasted chicken and set down to cook vegetables and wild rice while it cooked. There were going to be leftovers either way, so I knew that nothing would go to waste. Even so, as much as the afternoon had been productive, I was getting to the point of having had enough of my own company.  

I heard the front door open just as I was putting the finishing touches on dinner and wondering whether or not to set the table. I smiled wide when Cheryl came into view, and then had to hold that smile when Lydia came in right behind her. It sank in just how little time I had spent alone with her through the weekend. 

“It smells delicious in here,” Cheryl said as she came up and gave me a hug. 

She was dressed casually in yoga pants and a loose sweater tied closed over a white tank and sports bra.

“It really does. You’re so good in the kitchen,” Lydia added. 

‘Thank you so much,” I said.

The way that Lydia was making herself at home, there was really no question that she was joining us for dinner. I pulled out the plates and started setting the dinner table for three.

“Will Liam be joining too,” I asked. 

“Oh, I don’t know where he is,” Lydia answered. “He was gone when we woke up and he isn’t big on giving me updates. If he comes home and I’m not there, I’m sure he’ll try looking here first.” 

I couldn’t help noticing how casually she used the word “we” when talking about waking up. There was no pretence or shame in her at all while talking about how she was sleeping with my wife. She knew even more than Cheryl did about my acceptance of this situation and all that surrounded it. 

The two of them were sitting in the living room, chatting and laughing. I couldn’t help but remember how they had looked the night before. They had both looked so happy, so sexy and so adventurous. Talking as they were now, they looked so relaxed and happy. They looked like they were in love.

“Everything is just about ready,” I announced. “Would you like some wine?”

“Oh that is a great idea,” answered Cheryl.

I pulled a bottle of white out of the back of the fridge and opened it. I found the wine glasses in the cupboard and carried them out to the table. With guests, if that was what Lydia was, I made even more effort on presentation than I normally did. I carved the chicken carefully with my sharpest knife, and set everything out on the table in our best serving dishes. By the time it was all placed on the table and I was pouring the wine, I felt quite proud. 

We all sat down together and talked and joked and ate and it was a wonderful time. We somehow found a way to talk and act like friends, and Lydia could ask about our relationship history together without ever giving the impression that it was in the past. We were all aware of what was just under the surface, but we danced around it expertly. I felt like my chastity cage was a constant reminder of my new limitations with Cheryl, just as the plug’s presence inside me never let me forget that Liam was there too. 

Once everyone had emptied their plates or given up on trying, I got up to clear the table and put away the leftovers, but only after refilling their wine glasses and sending them back to the living room. I was just finishing up and about to join them when Liam arrived. Cheryl rose to answer the knock at the door and greeted him warmly, inviting him in to join them. I was immediately nervous, as he always seemed to keep me on my toes, and it was getting harder to remember to hide my natural submission to him in front of my wife. I masked my nerves by continuing my service role of the evening and asking him if I could get him a drink.

“I’d love a cold beer, but let me come with you to see what you have,” he said. 

I turned and walked to the kitchen, feeling him right behind me. 

“We have a few choices of beer, Master,” I said, softly enough so that my voice wouldn’t reach the living room, while I opened the fridge door to show him. 

“I like knowing you are plugged and caged in front of your wife, Crissy,” he said, ignoring my question. 

“Thank you, Master,” I said. 

“That plug makes you feel my control inside you at all times, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, it does, Master,”

“And with your cage on, you would have to fend off your wife’s advances, if she wanted your body, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes, Master,” I admitted. 

“Tell me again, Crissy. Would you rather I unlocked your cage and let you try to have sex with your wife, or would you rather I let you suck my cock?”

I felt his control. I felt his dominance. I felt my own hormone-assisted impotence.”

“Crissy would rather suck your cock, Master,”

“Yes, I know, Crissy.  Stay here and think about my cock for a minute, then bring me the Heineken. You are not allowed any more alcohol tonight.”

With that he turned and left me there, walking back to the living room with a jump in his step. 

I obeyed. I stood there, thinking about his cock. I thought about the size of it, and the way it felt in my hands, or how I had to open my mouth so wide to take it in. I remembered the taste and feel of his cock head on my lips, when I would start my serving of him with a kiss. I thought about the taste of his precum and how it would start to fill my senses. 

I shook my head eventually, pulled his beer out of the fridge and opened in. I poured myself a glass of ginger ale over ice. I took a deep breath and joined the group, handing Liam his beer before taking my own seat. As a group we talked and laughed and shared. It was still a new friendship and Cheryl was enjoying regaling Lydia with tales of our shared past, and of her own wild young girl stories. I loved to see her happy and to remember the joys we had shared together in those days. 

I kept an eye on everyone’s drinks, raising to refresh them when needed. The women either just assumed I was having mixed drinks, or never thought to ask as their laughter got louder. As the evening went on, they all got more free and uninhibited as they drank while I remained the sober observer. Liam, making note of his work requirements in the morning, slipped away while the women requested one last drink. I dutifully acted as bartender once more.

It was well past midnight when Lydia announced that it was her bedtime as well, and she rose to her feet a bit unsteadily. She reached for Cheryl’s hand for support. I was honestly surprised when, without comment at all, she simply took Cheryl’s hand in hers, said good night, and started to walk upstairs. Cheryl managed one look at me over her shoulder, and then followed right along. I stood there, alone in the living room, feeling the emotional impact of the moment. It wasn’t so much that I knew that they were lovers, but rather that it had not even seemed to cross Lydia’s mind to be anything other than completely open and obvious about my cuckolding. 

I let my breath go and started tidying. I cleaned up and put everything away so that there would be no mess in the morning to deal with. I had a last look around the kitchen and living room and then went up to bed in the guest room. Passing by the closed bedroom door upstairs, I could hear them sharing passion together. The sounds tormented me even after I had gotten undressed and was lying in bed, and I eventually fell asleep to the sounds of their shared orgasms. 

Morning came all too early, but my body’s frustrating attempts to reach erection while caged inspired a throbbing ache that was difficult to sleep through. I rose and relieved myself, setting down as the cage demanded of me. I had time for a quick shower so I took advantage, trying to use some cold water to ease the ache somewhat. 

Afterwards, I dressed and made my way downstairs. Cheryl’s bedroom door was still closed so I moved quietly. Knowing that we had a guest made the normal weekday morning routine feel different, but I tried to adjust. I put on a full pot of coffee and got things ready for a slightly larger breakfast while I prepared Cheryl’s lunch.  I checked the close a few times and I was just about to head up to knock, not wanting Cheryl to end up being late for work, when she came padding downstairs. 

“God, I slept in. Lydia’s still asleep. She didn’t even budge when I got out of— when I left,” Cheryl said, her voice a little rough. “Is that okay?”

I smiled at her and filled her travel mug with steaming coffee.

“Of course it is okay. Let her sleep,” I reassured her. 

She smiled at me and then continued rushing about to get herself ready. I helped carry her things to the door and gave her a quick kiss as she left. 

“Thank you so much,” she said as she got into her car. “For everything.”

I blew her a kiss and watched her pull out of the driveway. Back in the house, I could feel my awareness of Lydia’s presence, but I knew I couldn’t allow it to interfere with my own requirements. I made my way downstairs and exchanged my underwear for panties and put on stockings. I took a few extra moments to look how they fit me now, trying to judge if I could really see the difference in the shape of my hips. Eventually, I just sighed and got back to work. There was laundry to do as well as all the rest.

Back upstairs, there was still no sign of Lydia, so I went into my office and got everything started. I checked the shared folders that Liam had set up and, as I had suspected, there was plenty of new photo and video content for me to go through and arrange into posts for the website. I spend a couple hours at that, grouping the photos together and scheduling the posting of the content, along with carefully selected images that could be shared on the twitter feed as teasers. Looking over all the images of my use and teasing and display made me squirm and my body squeezed at the plug inside me. 

I was ready to tackle my inbox of messages and comments, but I needed more coffee first. I stood and stretched and returned to the kitchen for a fresh mug. I poured it full and opened up the sliding door to the back deck for a moment, taking the first sips with some fresh air. When I turned back, Lydia was there in the kitchen.

“Good morning, Crissy,” she said with a lazy smile. “It seems I have slept in. Is Cheryl already off to work?”

“Yes she is, Mistress,” I replied. 

“Understandable,” she said with a smile. “Would I be able to trouble you for some coffee? It smells delicious.”

“Of course, Mistress,” I answered and hurriedly poured her a mug, then fetched milk and sugar, in case she needed them. 

“Thank you, that’s perfect,” she said.

“Would you like anything to eat, Mistress?” I asked. 

"No, thank you. I’m not sure I’m up to much more than coffee for the moment.”

“Of course, Mistress,” I said. “Please let me know if there is anything you need.”

She looked me up and down. 

“Liam tells me that you wear panties and stockings for him, during the day, when Cheryl is away. Is that correct?”

“Yes, Mistress,” I answered. 

“Let me see.”

I paused for a moment, but then simply loosened my belt and pulled down my pants to show her. She signalled with her finger for me to turn for her, so I stepped fully out of my pants and turned slowly. Once I had my back to her, she stopped me.

“Bend over, please.”

I complied. She stepped close and I heard her set her coffee down on the counter. She pulled down the back of my panties and gave the base of my plug a little tap. I moaned softly which seemed to amuse her, causing her to repeat the torment. Once she was satisfied, she tugged my panties back up. 

“Do you have matching bras, Crissy?” she asked.

“Yes, Mistress,” I answered. 

“Go and get the matching bra, please. I think that you really should be wearing a bra when you’re wearing panties. In fact, I think I will tell Liam that I think that is a wonderful idea. Don’t forget to fill the cups… I’m sure you’ve got breast forms down there too.”

“Yes, Mistress,” I said, feeling my face warm. 

I rushed downstairs, feeling the power of even more being added to my routine of obedience and submission. I took off my shirt and got the bra on then slid the large, jiggly silicone breasts into place. I put my shirt on again, but I was no longer able to button it up.

“Much much better,” she said when I returned. “Yes, this is definitely the way you should be dressing. Don’t worry, I will also speak to Liam about getting you some proper outfits to wear with them. Something that suits your figure better.”

“Thank you, Mistress,” I replied softly. 

 “You may return to work now. I know you have a lot to keep up with.”

“Yes, Mistress, thank you.”

I picked up my pants and returned to my office, putting them on there and then sitting back down. I listened but Lydia moved too quietly, so I had no idea if she was still in the house with me, or if she had returned home. 

Reading the comments on my previously posted images made me squirm and I felt the weight and movement of the fake breasts as I composed and typed my replies. With my hands on the keyboard, the breasts felt squeezed between my arms. Like the plug and the cage, they gave me no escape from the sensations they caused, constantly reminding me of my position and predicament. I felt so feminised and emasculated, which only helped me compose my eager and slutty responses to the messages of my male online followers telling me of the many ways they would like to use and fuck and degrade me. 

God help me, I found myself wanting it all.