“You are right, Ma’am.” I felt I could hear his own rising arousal. And his rising fear too perhaps?
“However, whilst you might be aroused often, how often do you get hard? That little cock of yours?”
“Almost never, Ma’am.”
“‘Almost never’, Neville?” she says with a deliberate play on words. “And why is that?”
“Because you almost never remove this cage from my manhood, Ma’am.”
“And you are to use the word ‘manhood’ because?”
“Because it reminds me of the new status of my manhood, Ma’am. And that also turns you on.”
“Yes! The new status of your cock – not a word I allow you to use when referring to yourself. The new status of your cock is that you can’t get hard inside your cage. Because over time I’ve fitted increasingly small sizes to satisfy my increasing desire to see your manhood reducing.” I can hear her increasing desire the more she speaks.
A laugh. From her. “Who first suggested a cage for your manhood?”
A pause. From him. Then, “I did, Ma’am.”
“And if I remember correctly.” I know she remembers very well as she reinforces their relationship dynamic. “If I remember correctly, when I was still naïve, the first cage you bought for yourself, for yourself I noted, was plastic and large enough to sport an erection. Is that right?”
“Yes Ma’am.” He knows where this is going. Her husband. Neville. Nev. Never.
“Who decided you should wear steel cages, darling?” At least he thinks he knows where this is going. He doesn’t.
“You did, Ma’am.”
“And who decided to start upgrading to smaller cages that prevented your manhood from getting erections?”
“You did, Ma’am.”
“And who has been experimenting with how small a cage you can wear 24/7 without needing to unlock you?”
“You have, Ma’am.”
“And how small have we got, Darling?” I like the way she uses ‘we’, as if it is a joint enterprise. It was at the beginning. It’s not now. She has been choosing for him the cages that most turn her on for some time. Small, inescapable, and long term is what excites her most.
“Very small, Ma’am.”
“And how do I feel about how small a size we have successfully got you down to?” she asks.
“You are very animated, Ma’am,” he replies. “You like to show me how aroused you are by making me watch how many strong orgasms you can enjoy while discussing the restrictions you have placed upon my manhood.”
“The restrictions upon your cock! For 6 years now, our relationship, our love, our marriage, has been enhanced by your desires that have become our desires and are now, in one sense, exclusively my desires.
“And now look at you. Kneeling before me naked, fitter, slimmer, in better shape, more physically attractive and more professionally successful than you were 6 years ago. And of no interest to me, sexually that is. Precisely as you wanted. Do you remember when you first whispered to me how the thought of me fucking other men turned you on?”
“Yes Ma’am.”
“And did I fulfil your fantasy, Darling?”
“Yes Ma’am?”
“How much?”
“More than I could ever imagined, Ma’am.”
“And your desire for me to be in control? Did I fulfil that one too?”
“Yes Ma’am.”
“How much?”
“More than I ever wanted.”
“More than you ever wanted! More than you could ever have imagined! More than you knew you wanted?”
“Yes Ma’am.”
“And I still turn you on? You are still turned on?”
“Yes Ma’am.”
“Very?”
“Yes.” I heard the word catch in his throat before he said “Ma’am.”
“I am the perfect wife then! Fulfilling her husband’s sexual fantasies more than he ever imagined. More than he ever wanted. And he still hardens, or attempts to, every time.” Her right foot reached forward again and caused the soft grunt I heard from him again. She laughed: a soft throaty sound in this moment. I know her aroused laugh.
I glanced around the elegant restaurant and bar and enjoyed the contrast between the relaxed conversations around me and the intense conversation to which I was listening.
Fleur continued. “Though I am not naked at this moment, darling, and I know how much you yearn to see me naked, I too am fitter, slimmer, in better shape, more physically attractive and more professionally successful than I was 6 years ago. And of intense interest to me, I am completely fulfilled, sexually that is. By other men. Precisely as you wanted.
“Everything. Precisely as you wanted. And fortunately for you, exactly as I want too. You are such a lucky boy to have a wife who turns out to be just as turned on, maybe more so than you, by all this, by our little game. But it’s not a game anymore, is it? This is real life and what I want has become our way of life.”
Silence.
“Is that right?” Fleur asks.
“Yes Ma’am.”
“And so here I am, fulfilling my every dream. And fulfilling yours. I’m getting so much as you get so little. I’m getting endless great sex from men who know how to be men. How to fuck, really fuck a woman like me. And there is so, so much more to it than just the fucking. So, so much.”
Fleur paused. I know she is making sure the impact of her words settled in his mind. “And you’re getting endless nothing.
“You could never really do that could you, darling. You just could not make me scream like these men do, keep me interested, take me all night long, fulfil me, as I fulfil them. You just couldn’t do it. You didn’t have it in you did you? You satisfy me now though. Without ever having it in me.” Her laugh again.
“Talking of which, when was it you last had it in me?” she asked him. Her husband.
A silence for a moment. “Almost 2 years Ma’am.”
2 years, I think! With a woman like Fleur!
“2 years.” The wonder in her tone echoes my thoughts. The tone amuses me. I can tell she’s getting hornier. “And when will you next be in me, Neville?”
“Never Ma’am.” he replies. Her husband. Nev. Never.
“Never,” she says. “Nev! That’s so hot!” Another deeper tone in her voice reaches me. Another echo of my thoughts. “We are so attuned? Why is that?” Fleur asks him. And me.
“Because you decided you didn’t want that part of me anymore, Ma’am. You said it didn’t feel right to you.”
“And who put the idea in my head, darling? One passionate night of pillow talk.”
“I did Ma’am.”
“What did you say. What thought did you say turned you on so?”
“That you would deny me Ma’am.”
“Deny you what?”
“Your body, Ma’am?”
“And what else did you say?”
There was of hesitation, of a knowing in him that this had been a crucial moment in the development of their relationship
“That I wanted it to be real, Ma’am,” he said. “I didn’t want it to be pretend.”
“You did, indeed,” she said, as sense of triumph emerged in her voice. “And then you said?”
This was a conversation I knew they had had before. She’d told me about it. How she kept reinforcing that this was his idea first before it became her passion. I’d told her I wanted her to have the conversation again. Tonight.
“And you contradicted yourself, didn’t you Darling?” she said before he had a chance to reply.
“Yes Ma’am.”
“Go on.”
“I said I didn’t really want it to happen, Ma’am. But the thought turned me on. As a fantasy.”
“And I decided you were being disingenuous, did I not? Not exactly lying. But you were not telling the truth. To yourself, as much as to me. I sensed… I sensed you were lying to yourself. I wondered what would happen if I began to deny you my body. And gave it to others. Have I recalled correctly?”