I was very aware of my chastity cage as I moved to the kitchen and poured us each a mug of coffee. I met her in the living room and set the mugs down. She had curled up on one end of the sofa, so I sat down on the other end, sharing it with her, but with some space between us. 

“What would you like to know?” I asked her. 

“I guess maybe the same rules apply? I want to know as much as you want to tell me,” she answered. 

I was finding it hard to look her in the eye as I talked, but it got a bit easier once I got into it and she didn’t recoil or run away or respond in anger. She seemed genuinely curious. 

I explained to her about arriving and about how nervous I had felt, and about how reassuring and welcoming Mistress Charlotta had been. 

“Can I ask questions?” Cheryl interjected, “or do you just want me to listen?”

“You can ask me anything you like,” I answered. I almost felt like being interviewed would be easier.

“What was she wearing? Was she like in the movies with all leather and corsets, brandishing a whip?”

I laughed, which felt good. I recounted the details of the outfit she had been wearing when I arrived. I provided perhaps too much detail, since Cheryl smiled wide. 

“You found her attractive? She turned you on?” she asked. 

“I did, yes,” I answered. 

I searched her expression for jealousy or hurt, but didn’t see any so I continued. I didn’t exactly want to recount the whole session moment-by-moment, so I tried to express the major moments and to start the scene for the photo reveals I knew had to come. It was a curious thing, to revisit those memories with Cheryl. I tried to be emotionally open and honest, while still constantly filtering the details I shared.

She seemed amused by my having been required to kneel during the initial interview, and was genuinely surprised by how quickly I was required to strip for this woman I’d just met. She seemed to like that I had to verbally confirm my consent, and that it was signified by something like the collar.

“Was it difficult to be naked in front of her right away like that?” Cheryl asked.

“It was easier than I thought it would be,” I answered. “There was just something about the way she spoke. She was so firm and yet kind, and so comfortable with herself… She just seemed to exude this aura around her, that made obeying her instructions seem like the most natural thing in the world.”

Cheryl smiled softly, nodding knowingly, and I knew she was thinking of our neighbours.

I described how I had been led into the dungeon proper, and how I had been placed on display by the spreader bars and cuffs, and how she had started teasing me with pain and touch while interrogating me. 

“That is so wicked,” Cheryl interjected. “What did she ask you about?”

I was feeling a bit warm, and I noticed that Cheryl’s nipples, not given cover by any bra, were becoming visibly stiff against her top.

“She asked me about what I liked, she talked about my body, and she asked me about you.”

“About me?” Cheryl seemed genuinely surprised. 

“Yes, she said she didn’t get too many women sending their husbands to her. She wanted me to talk about why or how it happened.”

“What did you tell her?”

“The truth, I think, mostly. In that situation… it was really intense… it felt like it was impossible to hide things from her. I told her how you had been exploring your desires, and you wanted me to too.”

“My desires?”

“I told her about Lydia. I hope that’s okay.”

Cheryl blushed a deep red. 

“Yes, it’s okay. It’s just, well, maybe kind of embarrassing. I don’t know. I mean, I got this woman’s name from Lydia, to be honest, so maybe things are more open than I imagined, but still it’s strange knowing she knows. This woman who had my husband tied up knows about my sex life.”

“Yes… and she was good at teasing me about it without making me feel bad, exactly. She made everything feel so sexy.”

She nodded. It felt unreal, talking to Cheryl about these things – the activities and the feelings. In past years, when I had tried to, I had always felt my own fear, and confusion and judgement from her. I was starting to feel like I owed even more to Liam and Lydia, as they had found a way to make her understand. I guessed that my mistake had been trying to make a Dominatrix out of her, when she maybe needed to be a submissive like me. Of course, I was only just getting started.

I drew in a deep breath and told Cheryl that once Mistress Charlotta had gotten me so physically and emotionally worked up, she had essentially made me beg her to peg me. I looked down at the floor as I recounted a very short version of how she had filled me and fucked me, all while her teasing continued, until I had an orgasm. 

I waited through the silence for what felt like a long time, then lifted my eyes to hers. Her expression was inscrutable. 

“You came from that?” she finally asked.

“Yes. I don’t know if it was the pressure on my prostate, the situation, her teasing or all of it together, but I did.” 

I kept looking at her, waiting for her to recoil in shock or disgust. It felt like a huge weight lifted off my heart when she didn’t. 

“Wow. That’s intense. Amazing,” she said. She even started to softly smile. 

“Is this too much? I asked her. “I mean, am I telling you too much?”

“No, it’s not too much for me. I want you to share as much as you want to, but I’m already glad that it seems like it was so much, and that you obviously responded to it,” she said.

That was comforting but, even so, I decided to hold off on my description of me licking my own spent cum off the floor when it came to recounting what followed. I did, however, describe her negotiating tease about trading the ball-stretcher for a butt plug. Given what I knew of Cheryl’s own recent experiences, I thought she’d be interested in that detail, but she seemed far more amused by my being blindfolded and then having to assist Charlotta in undressing.

“Oh that is so mean!” she laughed. 

Her nipples were still hard, and I was feeling the confinement of my cage as well. 

“Do you want to see?” I asked, my heart pounding.

“What do you mean?” Cheryl asked.

“She took a photo,” I said, “and she sent it to me.”

“Oh my god,  yes I want to see,” she said, nearly jumping out of her seat.

I took out my phone and brought up the saved image, then handed it to her. She stared at the photo and I saw her draw her lower lip in between her teeth.

“What are you holding?” she asked.

“Her clothes,” I answered. “Her top and her skirt.”

“You must have been squirming!” she said. 

“Yes, yes I was,” I answered. I remembered the tease of that moment so intently, hearing her taunting words as well as knowing I was so close to the denied view of her body.

Cheryl’s action was so normal and so typical that it amazed me that I hadn’t anticipated it. Even so, when she instinctively swiped sideways on the screen of my phone, it seemed to happen almost in slow motion. Her eyes widened as she took in the image on the screen. 

“Oh my god, is this you too?” she asked. 

I saw the image of myself in drag, on the floor, with the toy phallus in my mouth as though it was burned into my mind. 

“Yes, that’s me,” I admitted.

“Oh, you’ve got to tell me how this happened,” she said.

Her eyes didn’t leave the screen.

“Once she was done teasing me with holding her clothes, she teased my body then stopped, getting me kind of mind-fucked. Then she kind of made it clear that it would amuse her to make me ‘pretty’ as she called it. I was still blindfolded as she got me dressed like that, then I guess she thought that the toy was just the natural thing to add. She wanted me to show her how I would suck it.”

“Oh wow. You look so… pretty in a way, but slutty and so perverted. She made you suck a toy cock for her… while she watched… and even took a photo…” Cheryl’s voice drifted off for a moment. “Can you tell me how that felt? I mean, you know, to have to do that?”

“It was strange. I mean, dressing up like a girl isn’t really a turn on for me on its own… but there was some teasing, some humiliating aspect to it. Not very current thinking, I know, but there are still expectations of a man, you know, and being dressed up like that… It was a successfully teasing experience.” 

She was still staring at the photo. 

“Not to mention the dildo,” she said.

“Yes, not to mention that,” I said. “She liked that part too.”

“Oh yes?” Cheryl asked. “How did you know?”

“She told me and then, while I had to service the thing, she started fingering herself… while I was still blindfolded, of course.”

Now she lifted her eyes to me.

“Oh fuck, that’s hot,” she said, and then started laughing. “Too mean?” she gasped.

I had to laugh along with her. There really was something funny about it, or the situation. If it hadn't been me, I would have laughed at that guy on his knees too.

“Anyways, not to be too literal, but that was kind of the climax. She got herself together, after, and once she was in a robe and covered up, she took off the blindfold and made me look at myself,” I said, remembering that I had had to confront myself more than just visually in the extended true story of that situation. 

Cheryl took a long last look at the photos then handed my phone back to me. 

“What’s it like for you, to see those photos, to see yourself like that?” she asked.

“It’s kind of strange… well more that kind of, I guess. I mean, I don’t think I like the way I look on the surface — I’m not the sexiest of girls… but it makes me remember the feelings, the situation, and that’s pretty powerful, I guess.”

“Did you like it? I mean, the whole experience. Was it what you were looking for? I guess that some parts of it remind me of things that we tried, or that I guess I think you were trying to get me to understand.”

“I did like it. It was intense and in a lot of different kinds of ways, I got to feel like I was in a really different mental space. She did different things and used different toys and stuff, but it was all about getting me to feel a certain kind of way… and she was good at it. It worked.”

“I’m glad,” she said. “I really am. Hearing you talk about what happened, and even her, I can hear in your voice and see in you that it was what you needed. It makes me happy… happy for you.”

I smiled. There was something almost bittersweet in her words and the smile had faded somewhat from her face. 

“What’s wrong?” I asked her. 

“Nothing is wrong, exactly. I was just thinking that there was a time when I think you tried to get that from me. That feeling, you know? That Charlotta gave you?”

“That was my fault. I should have known earlier that that wasn’t you. I shouldn’t have tried to push what I wanted onto you.” 

“I know, and I guess we’re both finding that out a bit, but I still can’t help but wonder, you know, ‘what if?’”

“What if?”

“Yes, what if I had been more like that Dominatrix”

“I understand and I do the same, in a way, except I spent a lot of time wondering what if I’d been different. What if I wasn’t interested in these things, or what if I was more what you wanted?”

“Well, given what’s been happening between me and Lydia, maybe you shouldn’t wish for exactly that.”

We laughed, but perhaps we were both thinking of how I’d looked in that photo. Out of the blue, there was a knock at the front door, and I think we were both grateful for a distraction. 

Cheryl rose to answer it and found Lydia there on our doorstep. She seemed surprised and a bit awkward about her appearing at that moment so I stood and invited her in, offering her a cup of coffee. I didn’t want Cheryl to ever feel that way, since I felt like she was falling for her. 

Lydia eagerly accepted. 

“I’m sorry to barge in on you like this, but Liam had to work, and the house was just too quiet. I hate when things go from bustling to calm too quickly,” she said, making herself at home in one of the larger easy chairs in the living room.

I brought her a mug of coffee and returned to my seat on the sofa. 

“It’s okay. I kind of hate that too. I’m lucky to have Chris working from home, so he’s almost always here when I get back at the end of the day,” Cheryl said.

“Or the middle of it,” Lydia joked.

Cheryl looked mortified and there was silence for a moment.

“Too soon?” Lydia joked, as though she refused to accept the discomfort. 

“It’s okay. Don’t worry about it,” I smiled. 

“I won’t,” Lydia laughed. “What are you two up to?”

“We were just talking. Catching up,” Cheryl said. 

“Oh yes? What’s the big question today?” Lydia asked.

“The big question?” Cheryl asked.

“I guess that’s kind of a game Liam and I sometimes play. When we’re talking about something, we try to see if there is one big question that we can boil it down to.”

“What if,” I blurted out. “I guess that’s the question.”

Cheryl jerked her head to me and she looked like she just couldn’t believe that I’d shared so much.

“Oh, that’s a dangerous question,” Lydia said. “This doesn’t have anything to do with that recommendation I gave you, does it?”

Now I was blushing, but I supposed that I had made my own bed. 

“Yes, I guess it does,” Cheryl answered. “Chris had his appointment. Is it okay if I tell her?”

“Yes, it is. I mean, I guess she already knew.”

“Chris had his appointment. He had a good experience, and I’m happy, since that’s why I wanted him to go… but it still takes some getting used to. I guess I was kind of wondering what if I was, or had been, more like her. What that would have meant.”

“I’m going to help you out here a lot,” Lydia said. “Pay close attention. The answer to that particular question, what if, is that it doesn’t fucking matter. You aren’t like anyone but you. Neither is your husband. If you had been different, you’d have been someone else. We all go through challenges, but the most important thing between the two of you is that love that made you find each other, and that kept you together. Without who you actually are, that wouldn’t have happened. That kind of thing is forever, no matter what happens. The other stuff is easy.”

“Easy?” I asked. 

“Sure, easy. Getting off. Getting aroused. That’s nothing compared to the rest of it. Maybe it turns out that you both just needed a bit of help, because you both needed some small thing that you thought you could find in each other. Sometimes that one thing isn’t there, but you can find it somewhere else, for the both of you.”

“That sounds easier than it feels,” Cheryl said. 

“It isn’t. Trust me,” Lydia said.

“Okay,” replied Cheryl, but she looked a bit sceptical. 

“Do you want me to show you?” Lydia asked.

“Sure,” said Cheryl.

“Do you trust me? Both of you?”

“Yes,” I answered, and Cheryl nodded. 

“Forgive me for being frank, but I feel we’re growing close here. Given that Chris had a positive experience seeing a Dominatrix, I’m going to say it’s safe to say that has submissive leanings. I hope it isn’t too much honesty to say that Cheryl, you’ve found some of those in yourself too. That was probably a stumbling block between you, if you tried to work some of these things out between you two on your own.”

We both just sat there, listening, entranced by her blunt honesty and insight. 

“Cheryl, stand up,” Lydia said firmly. 

Without much hesitation, Cheryl followed her instructions. 

“Chris, get on your knees in front of your wife.”

I followed her directions as well.

“Cheryl, I want you to cross your wrists behind your back and hold them there.”

She slid her wrists back.

“Chris, take your wife’s pants down.”

I looked at Lydia in shock, and then up at Cheryl. Her face was warming, but she nodded that it was okay. I tugged and pulled the tights down to her ankles. She wore nothing under them. 

“Chris, now it is your turn to place your wrists behind your back as well.”

I followed orders without taking my eyes off my wife’s bare pussy.

“Cheryl, you may move and grind your hips and Chris, you may use your lips and tongue, but that’s all. Chris, you have fifteen minutes to make your wife cum.”

I didn’t wait for anything else. I just pushed my face forwards. I extended my tongue, licking and exploring her at first, tracing the lines of her pussy, starting to taste her wetness. I heard her start to moan softly, and she pushed against my mouth. 

I started to kiss her more firmly and my tongue wriggled inside her. My caged cock tingled. I wasn’t hard but my mind was fully aroused. I devoured her. It wasn’t that I quite forgot Lydia was there, no, her presence was constant, like a guiding hand on both of us. Neither of us broke or gave in by moving our hands. We just shared the moment, and shared my worship of her, and shared both of our obedience to the instructions. 

My head rolled and turned and my tongue explored and danced inside her. It wasn’t long before her juices were soaking my lips and then my chin. Cheryl moaned and gasped and pressed hard against me, and I moaned back, the low hum making my tongue almost vibrate. I felt her legs start to twitch. I felt her pussy tighten around my tongue, and then I felt her give in… She came, hard and wet, absolutely drenching me. I kept my tongue moving, a bit more gently perhaps, doing all I could to make her orgasm last as long as possible. 

Finally, she fell back onto the sofa, finally using her hands to hold my head tight, so that my cheek rested against the inside of her thigh. We were both breathing heavily.

“See, it’s easy,” Lydia said softly. Without another word, she stood and left us there, in the aftermath of a passion she had chosen for us.