Changes Ch. 09

I didn't answer, but I didn't need to. She was right.

"Oh," she said, "I almost forgot. I bought you a few items of clothing that you'll need now that you're locked up. Here are a few surgical compression girdles that have an open crotch so your package won't get jammed up too much. They're for post-op surgical procedure recovery, but they're perfect for you now. And I bought you some Lulu Lemon tights with matching wrap skirts so the skirt can hide your bigger bulge now. You need those anyway. After all, what woman is going to go around always dressed to the nines like you? And if we go to a formal event where you'd look best in a tight pencil skirt or something, I'll unlock you for that. So, there you have it. We're there sweetie. We're there."

"We're where?" I asked.

"You like to be forced to do things, especially with regard to sex, correct?" she asked with a tinge of delight.

I hated answering that question truthfully, but I did this time. "Yes, I guess so," I said.

"You don't guess. You know. Anyway, I have control now, absolute control. You can't have an orgasm unless I permit it. No more masturbation on the sly. You think I didn't know about that? That's like cheating on me. That's the way I feel about that."

"Wait," I said, "You'd take this that far?"

"I just did."

"I really can't get this chastity cage off, can I? And this is what you want?"

"More than anything."

"I guess that's it then, isn't it? I asked for it, didn't I?" I said, dubiously.

Sarah laughed and said, "You sure did. You should be careful what you wish for and what you consent to."

I smiled and shook my head from side to side. Check and mate. "How often will you release me?" I asked with apprehension.

"The only lock up interval I'm sure of is the first one. The rest depend on your attitude and how my orgasms are."

"And the first one is?"

"Twenty-one days. More, much more, if you whine and beg."

"Twenty-one days? No way! Jesus Sarah, that's stupid. I'll go crazy!"

"Are you whining?" she asked cleverly.

I stared at her, looking for the slightest weakness. Our eyes locked in mutual understanding. "No," I said. I wasn't about to call that bluff. In my mind I was already wondering where the electric drill was.

"Good. Now get your corset off and shower so I can lace you back up again. I'd like some breakfast as soon as you get your makeup on and get dressed. Why don't you try the Lulu Lemon outfit today?"

I was so aroused I could hardly stand it. I wanted to whine; I wanted to beg. But I couldn't have her, and I couldn't masturbate either. It was the most complex mix of absolute lust, and absolute denial at the same time. This was bondage, the ultimate in bondage.

And in the same way that the cage closed on my penis, the symbolic lock on my life had been secured beyond any doubt. There wasn't a facet of my life that was outside Sarah's control now. Critics will say that I should have left her, that I should have hit her and forced her to give me the key, and all that stuff. Yes, I could have done any of that, but why would I do that when I loved her and she loved me? We were each crazy in our own complementary way, and we needed each other. We fit together like a hand in a glove.

And yes, I could have drilled out the screw lock of the chastity cage; I could have said no to a lot of things, but that would have ruined the entire mutual fantasy relationship that we had developed over the past many months. I said no to nothing and have not regretted anything that Sarah threw at me. Even the stuff I didn't like, I loved...such is the paradox of masochism. I don't like getting punished for real or imagined transgressions. Welts on my skin are not pleasant, but nonetheless, I understand that if Sarah wants to do it, and if there is no long-term physical damage, then there is a sexual component for me as I soar into sub-space to please Sarah. We talked about that at length, as we talked about many things, and decided that punishment should remain a component of the femdom relationship. It was, and is, a complex and delicate balance.

As an aside to the image of drilling out the screw lock, a few months later, in my eagerness to get release one night when Sarah gave me the key, I stripped the head of the locking screw, and actually had to drill it out. It took me three drill bits, two trips to the hardware store for replacements for broken bits, and two days to do it. The heat from drilling got intense at times. Sarah found it quite funny, and I must admit, it added to the bondage fun of it. It is one serious piece of chastity cage. I have tried on occasion to escape the cage, but as yet have not found a way.

Perhaps I don't want to.

By this time, the changes within our marriage, the role reversals, exchange of power, all that stuff, had already taken place. My dependence on Sarah for the simple act of orgasm was the final piece in the developmental puzzle. There was no going back.

And it all started by getting caught that fateful day dressed up in women's clothes. I can't imagine what would have happened to us if that scene had not taken place. I guess we would have gone on, each of us full of secrets and latent desires, and ended life in old age saying, "Mmm, that was orderly and good," never knowing what could have been. Just like so many do.

But here I am as I write this five years later, emotionally a woman, my waist corseted down to twenty-four inches (from twenty-nine) , my bra gently holding my 36C breasts (yes, I now have implants) , my girdle firming up my buttocks and smoothing the artificial padding, my nylons attached to the garters, all enclosed in skin-tight Lulu Lemon tights and a top, and I feel more than good; I feel charged, electrified with life. I said above that I am emotionally a woman, and the accessories such as the corset, padding, the breast implants, and makeup have made me look like a woman as well. Do I identify as a woman? Yes, I guess so, but it's way more complex than that. I don't want to be fucked by a man, nor do I want to fuck one. So I guess I identify as a lesbian.

Does Sarah identify me as a woman? I think so, but again, it's far more complex than that; she loves the fact that I have breasts now and that we go out together as women, but she wants my penis. Sometimes. So, is she a lesbian? I don't know. Should I care? No.

Sarah will be home soon from work and I've cooked her favorite meal. Every day I wait for her, I itch for her at the door like an obedient and loving puppy. She understands me. We'll drink some wine, play some Scrabble, laugh and talk, go to bed and make love. Maybe she'll release me tonight for orgasm, maybe not, but the point is that we will be making LOVE, not doing some act that is secretive and lonely, full of unshared fantasies and lost opportunities.

And when we get to the end of our lives, we'll say, "We dared to try. Now wasn't that freaking awesome?"

EPILOGUE

The debate continues whether or not I should take hormones, but we lean toward the status quo on that issue for now.

I have never returned to work. I take care of the household now and I am happy to be the housewife.

The Lori 2b chastity device is real. I have worn it for many years now without major issues. Mistress Lori from Oregon has a website (just google Mistress Lori) displaying a dizzying array of very serious chastity devices, all made from surgical stainless steel. The most severe are the ones that require the wearer to have a penis piercing, and the penis is thus anchored within the tube by the pin through the piercing. The screw locks are the same as mine, and they really are foolproof without an electric drill.