Hearing his voice had nearly given me a heart attack. I jerked my head around to see him standing there, framed in the doorway, with a teasing smile on his lips. He didn’t wait for an answer from me. He just turned and walked down the hallway and down the stairs. 

I stood for a moment, listening to the pounding of my heart and looking around me. After a beat, I was able to think enough to at least realise that I didn’t have time to be wasting. 

I carefully and gently started to remove her lingerie. I unclipped the garters from her stockings and rolled and tugged them down her legs. I started off being very gentle and cautious, but it quickly sank in that I did not need to worry at all about waking her. It took a bit of prodding and rolling, but I managed to strip her completely and tuck her under the covers. She normally wore pyjamas, but Master had said only to strip her. 

With that task complete, I quickly removed all of my own clothing and made my way downstairs, barefoot and stark naked. My eager cock was flopping about, half hard. I found him reclining in the living room, having poured himself a drink of scotch.

“You didn’t give her two orgasms, did you?”

“No Master,” I replied, standing before him.

“And you remember what that means?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Say it, slut.”

“It means that I don’t get to cum, Master.”

“That’s right. I’ve fetched your cage, so you can put that back on and avoid temptation.” 

He set it down on the coffee table in front of me, so I quickly picked it up and fit it onto my cock. I had some lingering anticipatory erection, so it took a bit of fiddling to get it on properly. The awkwardness of the task left me red-faced when I finally was able to close the lock and stand before him caged once more.

“Go fetch your collar and cuffs, slut,” he commanded.

“Yes, Master,” I replied, and made my way downstairs.

I felt silly and strange, walking around my house naked except for the cage. All while my wife was naked as well, although deep in a champagne-induced sleep.

Once I returned to him, he rose to lock the collar around my neck. He then showed me how the cuffs locked around my wrists. Each one buckled snugly, and there were steel rings on each that would facilitate them being linked to each other or that could be used to secure them, and me, to something else. He moved behind me and used a simple padlock to secure my wrists together behind my back. 

“Yes, that works nicely. Now, go back upstairs and bring back your wife’s new panties and garter belt. We can leave the bra and stockings for now.”

“Yes, Master,” I answered again. 

I knew in my mind that she was sound asleep, but I could still feel my heart pound as I entered our bedroom. There was just no way I could explain away how I looked. I had dropped the things on the floor beside the bed when I undressed her, so it took a bit of twisting to get down on my knees and use my cuffed hands to pick them up.

“You’re going to wear them,” Liam said, once I was back in front of him. 

He helped me step into the panties and tugged them up and over my caged cock. I could feel her lingering wetness on them. He stretched the garter belt around my hips and took a step back. 

Liam took time out for yet another series of photos. There could be little doubt which panties these were, if Cheryl ever saw these photos, as he had never seen another pair like them.  

“You can still taste your wife on your lips, can’t you, sissy?”

“Yes, Master,” I confessed. 

“Her juices on your face make you look like a rather pleasing little slut. Are you, sissy? Are you a pleasing little slut?”

“Yes, Master,” I replied meekly.

“Say it.”

“I… I am a pleasing little slut, Master,” I said, my voice trembling. 

“Again. Louder. Mean it.”

This time he raised his phone up to point its camera right at me.

“I am a pleasing little slut, Master.”

“Tell me your slut mouth is meant to give pleasure.”

“My mouth is meant to give pleasure, Master.”

Again I recited the words to Master and the merciless eye of the camera.

“Your wife calls you ‘Chris’ doesn’t she, slut?”

“Yes, Master, everyone does.”

“Do you think it is right that you should be called a man’s name by your Master?”

“No, Master.”

“No, neither do I. When you are before me, you will be known as ‘Sissy Crissy.’ That is how you will be referred to and known as, and that is how you will refer to yourself as well.”

“Y.. yess, Master.”

“So tell me again what your mouth is for.”

“M… Sissy Crissy’s mouth is meant to give pleasure, Master.”

Talking about myself this way is humiliating and degrading, and the camera is capturing it all. I only seem to be able to sink further down.

“I agree. Do you want to get that pussy taste out of your mouth, slut?”

I felt my face burn. I felt my heart pounding in my chest.

“Yes Master, Sissy Crissy wants to get the taste of pussy out of her mouth, Master.”

He reached out and hooked a finger in the ring at the front of my collar, and then used that grip to pull me down to my knees in front of him.  With my wrists securely cuffed behind me, I just watched as he opened up his pants and drew out his cock. 

When he stepped towards me, I found that my mouth was already open. 

The sensation of his cock sliding past my lips was intense and new and powerful. I had played and practised with toys before, but having his flesh-and-blood cock pushing into my mouth was real and raw. His cock was warm and alive. I could feel his veins throbbing. I was overwhelmed by his precum already, filling my senses beyond just taste. 

I opened as wide as I could, and I felt my mouth watering. He pushed forward, thrusting with his hips, over and over. I kept my teeth out of the way, trying to push his cock up against the roof of my mouth with my tongue, giving as much pressure and resistance as I could. 

He moaned and grunted and reached down to wrap his hand around the back of my head. When I looked up at him, I saw a look of glazed intensity on his face, along with the phone still in his hand, pointed at me. 

He was pulling my head forward now too, as he thrust forwards, pushing deeper still into my mouth. His cock head jabbed at the back of my throat, only making my mouth water more. I had to fight against my gag reflex, and forced myself to swallow. It helped, but I couldn’t keep up with all the saliva, and soon I was drooling around him, feeling it spill over my lips and down onto my chest. 

My eyes were wide, just looking up at him and feeling him take my mouth and use me for his pleasure. He dressed me up in Cheryl’s new lingerie — a gift he had chosen — just to humiliate me and amuse himself. I’m sure it only made the photographs he’d taken more ridiculous, while marking his use of me in a way that she’d know too.

He kept thrusting, kept pushing, and I felt him push deep, his cock pushing into the tightness of my throat. I gasped and moaned and slurped, trying to keep up and endure.

I felt a change in his pace. His thrusts became more urgent and singular, and I felt his cock twitch in my mouth. All of a sudden I felt and tasted the spurt of his warm cum, exploding into my mouth. He drove forward in my mouth two or three more times, filling up my mouth with the salty, slippery load of his cum, and then slid back in time to have his last spurt land across my upper lip and cheek. 

“Mmmmmm, fuck yes,” he moaned, more to himself than to me.

“Don’t swallow yet. Open your mouth wide and tilt your head back.

I complied, as if I had any choice, and I felt his load swimming in my mouth, over my tongue. He held the camera close and took more photos for his collection.

Once he was satisfied, he gave the permission and command to swallow, and I felt his load slide down all the way into my belly. Once my mouth was empty, he insisted that I give his softening cock a quick clean with my tongue. 

I knelt there, my eyes to the floor, in a kind of disbelief that this had happened. I had crossed yet another threshold of depravity and infidelity with him, and right here in the middle of our new living room. He was laying claim to my life and to our new home one step at a time. 

“Wait there, I’m going to clean up for a moment,” he said, and I saw him head upstairs. 

Rather than just rinse up, I heard the water start and I had to kneel there and wait, his cum drying on my face, while he showered just one room over from my naked, sleeping wife. There was nothing else for me to do but ponder and reflect what had happened to me. 

In less than a week, my life had changed completely. A secret kink and interest had been exposed and taken to be used against me, and now this man, my Master, seemed intent on blackmailing and drawing me into a life of submission and kink and depravity that I had long ago dismissed as pure fantasy and dreams. I was left feeling aroused and excited, all while living in the fear that he might use his knowledge and power to bring my whole life crumbling down around me in humiliating shame.  

He returned, smiling and clean, and lifted me out of my thoughts. He unlocked my chastity cage and removed it, then freed me from the cuffs and the collar. 

“You’re going to become a skilled and pleasing cock-sucker, Sissy Crissy, so I hope you enjoy the taste of my cum. You are going to be eating a lot of it.”

“Thank you, Master,” was all I could think of to say. 

He reached a hand out to help me stand up. 

“I was just thinking about how there have been three sexual acts in this house this week. You were part of each of them, but you’ve still not been able to cum. I’ve fucked your ass and your mouth, and you’ve gone down on your pretty, clueless wife. All that, and still no orgasm for poor sissy Crissy.”

He was smiling so wide I thought he was about to burst into laughter. 

“And… not tonight either. Put your things away and strip out of Cheryl's new lingerie, and leave it beside the bed. Hopefully, she can’t tell her own juices from yours leaking in her panties. Don’t brush your teeth tonight. I want my taste still on your lips when you wake. Sweet dreams, slut.”

He left, and I tidied up. I stripped out of the panties and garter belt downstairs so that I could drop them on the floor where I’d picked them up.  I wiped the dried cum from my face, but couldn’t quite look at myself in the mirror.

I lay in bed, trying to calm my thoughts, but it was the vision of myself in those photos that kept running through them. Finally, awash in my own shame and kinky memories, I sank into dreams.