After a delicious few posts with some secretary fantasies, followed by some not so gentle ball kicking a fan requested, I thought we'd catch back up with Vanessa and Derek. They have such a unique FLR (female-led-relationship) that the traditional gender roles in their household are essentially reversed.
I've usually narrate the steamy details of what these two get up to behind closed doors. This time I thought it would be cute and probably humiliating for him, to hear things from Derek's perspective.
Vanessa threatened him with an additional three months added to his lock-up time if he didn't write, so without further adieu, take it away Derek.
*******
As I sat poised, anally plugged, with a metal device encasing my penis, I hesitated to commit the humiliating truth to "paper". The words trembled on the precipice of my subconscious, threatening to release a torrent of tears and shame. Yet, I dared to bare my soul, exposing the intricacies of my transformed existence.
"In a world where conventions are turned upside down," I typed, "I, Derek, once a proud husband, now found myself embodied in the unlikely role of a trophy wife."
The rigid confines of my chastity device seemed to constrict further, a poignant reminder of my emasculation.
My thoughts dripped with humiliation as I reflected on the curious path that led me to this point - a path strewn with satin and lace, my masculine identity diminished with each dainty step in my heels.
Vanessa, my wife and Mistress, held sway over our twisted game of intimacy, dictating the terms of my servitude while indulging in the pleasure of "real men". Cuckolded, feminized, and confined - such was the fate that had befallen me, a trophy wife forced to put a smile on my face, lest I be strictly consequenced.
Vanessa seemed to have effortlessly transitioned into the patriarchal figure, while I became her pampered plaything - a vessel for her desires, even making me call her "Sir" when she's in her strap-on.
My life had devolved into a series of humiliating rituals, each designed to reinforce my submission and Vanessa's dominance. Morning always began the same way. I stir awake in my sissy bedroom, the pink-hued décor and frilly bedding a constant reminder of my beta status. At the sound of Vanessa starting her shower, I hurry into place, still dressed in my nightie or lingerie and struggle to get into my high heels that seem to mock my every step.
I mince toward her bathroom, avoiding any mirrors that might reflect the shame written across my face. In the designated area, I find the veiny, realistic penis waiting for me, securely fastened to the wall.
Kneeling before its impressive size, I part my lips and take the length into my mouth, as the steam from my wife's shower caresses my hairless body.
As Vanessa emerged from the steamy shower, her radiant form glided toward the vanity, her hair a wild tumble of dark locks.
Once dry, she effortlessly slid into her stockings, the smooth fabric clinging to her toned legs, before slipping on the stiletto heels that elevated her stature to a commanding height. Without a word, I knew my place, my heart sinking with the familiar weight of expectation.
I crawled behind her on all fours and with a hesitant glance upward, I pressed my face into the soft warmth of her bare bum.
My tongue extended from my lips to find the buttery wrinkles of her anus and with a little pressure, it plopped comfortably inside.
The scent of soap and shampoo enveloped me, mingling with the faint tang of her asshole as I worked diligently on my degrading task. This particular ritual, was designed and performed each morning to remind me that I am now pussy-free, and that access to her most intimate petals is reserved for her other lovers.
I am required to keep my tongue inside her asshole while she does her hair and makeup, often times she will use my face as her vanity stool.
When she is finished, the butterflies of dread remind me that it's now my turn, to doll myself up, but not before she leaves me with a shameful reminder. As I settled in to apply the finishing touches to my makeup, a certain...fullness persisted, a gentle pressure that served as a potent reminder of Vanessa's authority. The butt plug, slick with my own saliva, had been expertly inserted prior to her leaving the room for me to prepare.
My fingers moved with practiced ease, applying blush to my cheekbones and highlighting eyelids, as my mind wandered to the possibilities the day might bring. Would it be Anthony again, with his powerful physique and dominating presence? Or perhaps someone new, some fresh new bull for Vanessa to parade before me while forcing me to watch their intimate encounter.
Whatever the case, I was ready - sissified, locked, and plugged - prepared to endure whatever humiliation that lay ahead, all for the sake of my beloved wife's amusement and pleasure.
Derek 💋
Continued in: The Deep End
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