…It all started with the proverbial good deed, with me lending the widow two doors down some help. So the old saying goes; "no good deed goes unpunished," which in my case is pretty much the way it went. Her name is Alice, and as I've said she's on her own now, but back in the day long before we moved here Alice was almost certainly quite the looker. She's still a fit and attractive woman by any standards, but also nearly my parent's age, so not really interesting to me in that way. Still there's just something about Alice that makes me get all "yes ma'am, no ma'am" and all smiles around her, so some level of respect, and dare I even say authority, with perhaps a bit of something else mixed into the proverbial cocktail as well.
I'm in my twenties and newly married to a very wonderful girl of my own though, and trust me, I've somehow managed to marry up in life, so no complaints from me at all. We have our minor disagreements and all that while learning how to live as a couple, but we also have a very playful sex life; as in no kids yet-sex on top of the washing machine on spin cycle, all because I thought it might be fun to try that. Or, the time I picked my lovely bride up and placed her naked ass right on the dinner table, and I then consumed her like she was my supper, cloth napkin in my collar and all, which was pretty hot too; I wish I could orgasm that many times in a row!
So, with these kinds of adult indulgences in mind we're presently playing around with a bit of chastity, at my suggestion though as it's something else I thought might be fun, as I like giving my bride that kind of power over me; there's just something in that for me that's hard to explain rationally. Maybe it's a bit of further control and domination that I'm offering, maybe even making myself something less, so that she can then be something even more; who knows? It's fun and playful for us, just another dynamic that we're free to explore, and no, I don't have a wandering eye or anything like that as I'm pretty sure that I couldn't possibly do any better in life myself. My lovely wife Jessica, she could actually do better than me, but I'm not necessarily encouraging that either, I'm simply trying to be the best husband I can; and that entails being a genuinely nice guy, which brings me back full circle to Alice, and my helping her out around her house on a Saturday.
Anyway, it's fall and Jessica and I are playing with our chastity device; with me obviously wearing it, and Jess holding the keys. She heard about this Locktober thing, where good chaste husbands and naughty wives agree to keep their significant others locked in chastity the whole month of October. This represents a bit more of a commitment than the several days in a row thing we've managed before; but when I say "we've" I really mean me, as Jess seems pretty much overtly immune to the more needy aspects of going without. It's the middle of October at this point, so I'm approximately two continuous weeks within the device, and about every other thought in my head revolves around sex of one kind or another, and also being very servile and submissively domesticated for Jess. The psychological changes I see in myself are rather wild too, much to think about and deeply ponder.
Jess is the one who actually volunteered my services cleaning the leaves and other junk from Alice's gutters, but truthfully I didn't mind at all, I was already using my ladder, and already wearing my coveralls as well, so it was almost nothing really. It's not like I was going to rush back home and jump into bed with my bride or anything, but a bit of "facetime" with me serving Jess that way as well was a definite possibility; in other words, my being orgasm free doesn't mean she's orgasm free. In fact, Jess has commented on how much more I seem to get done around the house while not being distracted with sex all the time, how "good-dog" obedient I've become, so in a way I've set myself up for failure here, or at the very least a life of semi-chaste servitude. It's a game though, one my bride is getting sadistically better at all the time; her sexually-charged double entendres almost like torture…
So back to Alice and her gutters; I'm done and off the ladder, wearing my dirty coveralls, with dirty hands, and Alice decides she's going to stuff some cash into my hand for helping her, which I try to refuse. I did it to be a nice guy, I'm not looking to cash-out on helping a neighbor. She won't take no for an answer though, and I tell her a white lie, that I'll be back over after I clean up, which I have no intention of doing. Alice is clever though, and she has eyes that can look into your soul too, and there is that "yes ma'am" thing too, as in I can't be the slightest bit rude to her at all. Now I have to preface this by saying that Alice tells Jess all the time how lucky she is to have me, she really "up-sells" me as something wonderful to my bride, and compliments like that make one wish to live up to the proverbial hype; "a rising tide lifts all the boats the same" and all of that.
So these one-piece coveralls I'm wearing are the kind that you can wear clothes under, as in there are two pants pockets on each side, one a true sewn in pocket, and the other allows access to your other pants pocket below; if of course you were wearing any. My hands are dirty and also holding my long ladder, and Alice takes this as her opportunity to stuff some cash into my pants pocket, so I can't refuse. I hang my head and submit, because she's not taking no for an answer, and there are those eyes of hers also telling me that I'm misbehaving by not allowing her to do as she pleases. Such doesn't exactly make me feel overtly masculine, but something else I've been wearing for the last two weeks or so also has that effect, as having no free access to my guy parts does that to me too; so uber malleable, and pretty much the antithesis of masculinity.
Alice is quick though, and by the time I've realized that she's found the wrong pocket, she already has her hand on my caged guy parts, my thin boxers all that stands between her and what only my lovely bride and I should ever be handling. We share a long look with her face nearly in mine, and her face suggests playful amusement.
"I had no idea you were such an untrustworthy new husband," she admonishes with a knowing smile. Her voice is "bedroom-provocative" and in a tone I haven't heard from her before. I blush deep red, especially since she hasn't removed her hand yet. I'm surprised that she even knows what she's feeling down there, so this is telling, as is the suggestion that I needed such restraint to "safely" visit with her to do this good deed. In all fairness, if I was a bit older, and single, I'd be all over Alice, she's quite charming and witty. As it is though, there is a bit of that authority thing going on between us, and I'm therefore projecting that Alice is something more than I am, which is pretty much what I do with most of the women in my life anyway. I was raised a certain way, and being deferential to the opposite sex is my natural "fallback" social conditioning, but such has served me well so far in life; exhibit A being Jess.
…I've fallen into a proverbial trap here though; tell her no, that she has nothing to worry about, and I've potentially insulted her, implying that her womanly-self is of no interest to me, that such a notion is crazy. Tell her that I am that untrustworthy, and I've disappointed her, and I lose my most vocal supporter on our little road, not to mention making a neighbor feel a bit uncomfortable in my presence. What happens when she shares this little detail with my Jess, or worse yet the other neighbors on our little road? There is of course a third option, and with little choice I go with that one, as lying to Alice just isn't something that I want to do…
"So, you… ahhh, know what that is?" I ask with a sheepish smile while trying not to look at my boots.
"I do indeed," she tells me.
"Well… ahhhh, Jess and I have a little game going on between us presently, and 'THAT' is part of the game, for just a bit longer anyway," I tell her. It's the truth, without a big long explanation that I don't want to get into; flashbacks of standing before my female grammar school principal, Mrs. Henderson, while confessing some minor mischief comes rushing back to me. She was actually a very sweet lady, but that didn't stop her from being disappointed in me, nor her paddling my bare ass right there in her office either. In my era such was still allowed in school, with proper signed parental permission slips sent home the first day of each school year, but truthfully I think such made me a better person too; it certainly reinforced my deferential attitude toward women in authority.
"Locktober?" Alice asks, and my eyes bug out as if I just saw Bigfoot, driving a Buick and smoking a cigar, or if Alice just started speaking in fluent Swahili or something…
"…Yes ma'am, you are just full of surprises," I offer respectfully, once I get my proverbial bearings.
"You truly have no idea. Perhaps I should offer to hold the keys for Jess, at 'least' until November first?" she asks helpfully. With that offer something trips inside my brain, and my compacted and caged man bits try to become erect anyway, which makes me groan. There is something about Alice holding those keys that really winds me up, suggesting that even if I talked Jess into an early parole - unlikely as that is - I'd still not be able to claim my full husbandly rights without Alice's permission too.
If giving Jess that kind of control and power over me turns me on, having Alice with it drives me almost insane! Jess can sometimes be coerced into fun things - like washing machine sex - as there's something in that for her as well. But, logically speaking Alice doesn't have a proverbial dog in this fight, she simply gets nothing personal for any mercy, not to mention that Alice is a bit inflexible anyway, as a general rule. It's a great character trait for a disciplinarian - just like Mrs. Henderson - but not so great if you're that naughty little boy on the proverbial receiving end.
"Yes ma'am," I answer, although left ambiguous was what exactly I'm agreeing to. Alice then removes her hand from my false pocket and stuffs some cash into my real one, but her playful "I know a secret" expression is burned into my brain. With my good deed done I make my way back home with my ladder, taking a good twenty minutes washing up and stripping down in the garage - and collecting my thoughts on that odd exchange with neighbor Alice - before finding Jess in the beginning stages of making a loaf of bread, actually two loaves. It smells magnificent even in this "yeasty" first stage, but there is just something about fresh bread that's impossible for me to ignore.
When we make eye contact I give her a kiss over her shoulder, but on her very pretty face is that same "I know a secret" expression that Alice also had, so I pretty much assume both ladies have had a "post-discovery" conversation while I was cleaning up, and also that Alice's version of that is the one Jess is believing.
"So, how exactly did THAT happen?" my wife eventually asks with a smile, perhaps still wanting to hear my version. She's not angry with me, but more amused I'd say, so I'm not really in trouble here yet. I'd obviously not be getting the "fresh bread as a reward for my good deeds" treatment if I were.
"It's a long story…" I tell her, explaining myself almost like a whiny little boy, with more flashbacks to Mrs. Henderson's heavy handed discipline for my "little-boy" mischief. Jess knows about that by the way, we simply keep zero secrets from each other, and she's even playfully spanked me a time or two as a prelude to some fantastic kinky "Jess-on-top" sex; so in this particular case honesty both was, and is, it's own reward.
"Flashbacks to your elementary school days?" Jess knowingly asks, but my "how did you know?" expression answers for me before my lips can. Jess knows how I am around women though, she certainly doesn't see it as a character fault, that's for sure. Anyway, I'm not exactly lusting for my neighbor or anything like that, bearing in mind that it's been over two weeks since I've had any sort of orgasm; but I'd be lying if I didn't say that there was a "something" there with Alice that's hard to define. Her unforeseen knowledge of both my device, and Locktober, makes her somehow even more mysterious to me though.
"Actually yes, that woman does something to me," I confess with a smile. I'm still feeling like a freshly spanked and contrite child, so nothing the slightest bit manly.
"But you did misbehave for her dear, and I'm therefore debating whether or not I should write out my own little permission slip, authorizing her to use corporal punishments on you as she sees fit; if of course you should ever misbehave for her again." I groan again, this is like sexual torture, and I soooo want to get myself off to rid myself of this sexual tension that I feel; literally from my guy parts all the way to my brain. I can't necessarily see myself having any sort of sex with Alice, but I can very easily see her in a position of authority over me going forward…
I try to change the subject as my guy parts trying to become erect still again really stings, so I ask about the bread, wondering aloud why Jess is making two loaves, instead of the singular one she ordinarily makes. I'm like a dog in that too maybe, if she makes two loaves, I'll just eat twice as much, so it's usually a single loaf as a treat for something wonderful that I've done; "will behave for food" I suppose, so again very dog-like.
Jess tells me that one of those loaves is for Alice, as a peace offering for my earlier rudeness, which to be objective is seriously blown out of proportion. I'm to deliver it later myself, with an apology after dinner, and I'm to be showered and clean, wearing clean clothes and not work clothes, as a sign of respect. It strikes me as odd, although I dare not complain, but while wearing my device I don't have all that much "challenge" in my attitude either; so I'm really feeling submissive anyway.
I both cook dinner and serve it, and we have some of the first loaf of bread with it, the second uncut and already in a basket for later delivery to Alice. I think this is overblown-crazy, but I dare not challenge my bride either, certainly not while in possession of the only keys to my manly freedom. She had playfully suggested once that such tiny keys could easily be misplaced, when I had just as playfully challenged her authority on an earlier lockup, and even though we were both playing around with each other, the message stuck. In other words, I had all the proverbial skin in this chastity game of ours, and we both knew it.
After I clean up from dinner and do the dishes I'm chased into the shower, and when I emerge I find my lovely bride on the phone, smiling and pacing about, and just having the most pleasant conversation. If I were a suspicious man I'd think she was talking to a boyfriend, it was that kind of friendly warm tone, and her body language was suggestive of such as well. I hear her tell the person on the other end that I'm out, and that she'll shoo him, meaning me obviously, over in a few minutes. I correctly deduce that this is Alice on the phone, and that I'm to actually deliver both the bread and my sincere apology to her personally. I still held out the false hope that Jess was teasing about me going over there again, but apparently not so.
It gets worse though, I'm to deliver not only the bread and apology, but a sealed envelope with Alice's name on it, and my greatest fear is that the keys to my manly freedom are inside that envelope, that Alice's earlier offer to hold Jess' keys until at least November first was actually accepted. Jess can see the turmoil in my eyes, but I don't verbally complain, nor do I use the special word we have between us that stops any game cold. I have both trust, and courage, and I'm simply not safe-wording out on this adventure.
It's dark out by the time I leave our own home, and being a little mischievous boy at heart I feel the envelope I'm to deliver end to end, and there are no keys inside it, even the very tiny brass ones that unlock the device I'm still wearing. It's a relief to be sure, and I come to the conclusion on the short walk over that the ladies have conspired, and are therefore toying with me just a bit, which to be honest is kind of fun and playful in its own way. I'm at least half-right in this conclusion though…
I knock on Alice's door - we don't have the kind of relationship to just walk in uninvited - and stand there, wondering if the other neighbors on the block know what's going on here. I knocked again a bit harder… after standing there like a dolt for a few moments. This time Alice opens her door for me, and she's wearing a red power dress, below the knee and looking like a cross between a businesswoman and authoritarian, so very "in-charge" and put together. I've allowed myself to forget for just a few seconds how much clothes can make a difference in one's perceptions, and here I've forgotten, or more accurately just realized, how magnificent my widowed neighbor actually looks when properly presented. I feel as overwhelmed as when I was a little boy sent to see the principal, I'm even standing down a step from her at her door; looking up at her from this perspective - in her heels - seeming just and proper.
Getting some composure back I greet her and explain my presence, that I'm here with a peace offering, and to personally apologize for my earlier rudeness. She asks me to come in, and once the door is closed behind me I hand her the bread basket and envelope. She wants to know if I read that note myself, and I honestly tell her no, although I also confess that I so wanted to, and would have, if I could have figured out a way to do so without getting caught.
"Caught and punished," Alice corrects, which makes my caged little guy remind me that he's there and listening too. She thanks me formally for both and then proceeds to open her envelope from my bride, reading it aloud so I can also hear:
"Dearest Alice,
I so do apologize for my husband's rudeness, and I offer this special gift-bread, made with love, as a token of my sincerity. I would also ask that you feel free to immediately correct any poor behavior on my husband's part going forward, in whatever way you see fit, for as long as you see fit. As we've discussed, training the men in our lives can be a daunting task when taken on solo, and I'd appreciate your ongoing help in this for the many years ahead of us. Now I don't expect your valuable time spent in this necessary task to be uncompensated, so I propose his chores, around your home, to in some small way compensate you for your time spent in building a better and more obedient husband.
As a demonstration of both his usefulness and my sincerity, if you haven't had the time to vacuum, or dust, or even do the dishes today, have him do those for you tonight, thereby allowing him to earn his keep. As we've already discussed, I also suggest that we synchronize our calendars, so that you or I can block out his chore-times going forward, so as to avoid any unnecessary service conflicts.
Thank you again, and please send him home when you're finished with him, love Jess."
To perhaps confirm that this is real, Alice shows me Jess' handwritten note, and I recognize her perfect feminine script, as do I her signature. This is the moment of truth, either I run out of there and demand this game stops cold, or I submit to the rightful feminine authority placed over me…
"What would you like me to do first ma'am?" I ask respectfully, finally glad that I was wearing the device, as without it my little guy would be making himself known in the most rudest of ways.
"You will close all the shades, strip yourself fully, and then place your clothing neatly on that chair over there. After that you will retrieve the small cutting board from my kitchen and present it to me." I was mortified, but also now knowing why Jess wanted me freshly showered, and with but a second's hesitation I did as instructed by Alice's "no-nonsense" commanding tone. Standing nude and caged before the well dressed Alice, with her now seated in a wood dining room chair, without armrests, I present both myself, and the small cutting board. I suspect what's to happen next, but I also half-think that this is just some strange dream, and I'll wake up in a good sweat in my bed and next to Jess in just a few seconds.
She looks at the device I'm wearing for a few moments as it's pretty much eye level with her, the same one she handled earlier, and my embarrassment is complete. I expect she'll break out in laughter any second, but her expression is stoic and serious; I'm here for a purpose, and Alice the disciplinarian isn't screwing around. She's no longer my neighbor in this setting, she's just like my principal, somebody I'm sent to stand before to receive what I have coming to me, because I earned it, because that's her job!
I lay across her lap and received ten firm swats on each cheek for my own transgressions, this woman surprisingly strong, and I realize a new and unexpected life awaits…