A Femdom Dystopia

It was her. She had been watching.

I would later find out that Louise had phoned her and invited her to the classroom on my behalf, to shame me to the fullest.

My wife shook her head in disappointment and I hung mine in shame. I could not bear to look at her beautiful face.

"I'm so sorry." I said to the ground.

She raised my gaze with a finger on my chin, "It's my fault. If I was going to leave you unsatisfied then it was my responsibility to protect you."

She leaned in and kissed me.

"Don't you worry. I'll make this right," she consoled me.

We continued kissing, my hardness pressing against her stomach as she drew me closer. Her tongue invaded mine and I felt her licking behind my neck and my ear. I knew her appetite was voracious and watching a strong woman take me on the ground had no doubt activated something animal-like in her.

Soon I felt that familiar pressure on my shoulders as she forced me down until my head was level with her crotch. I knew what she needed.

***

A full year has passed since that day.

True to her word, my wife has kindly forgiven me. Though the fault was all mine, in her wisdom she has been kind enough to find new ways for us to live together.

A week after the incident she came home with a small stainless-steel device. No, not the one Louise had shown to me. A spiral cage that fit around my penis and is sealed shut with a padlock.

Though it is horribly visible through my leggings, I wear it everywhere, both ashamed that it declares my infidelity, but also proud to be seen as a man owned by my wife.

The students still tease me mercilessly. Perhaps even more than before. They have no fear of grabbing me by the testicles or squeezing my ass but in the end they know that it can lead nowhere and so that's where it goes.

My wife is especially appreciative of my renewed vigor in the bedroom. And because I haven't had an orgasm since that day, I have become especially attentive. Perhaps that is an understatement.

From morning to night, and often in my dreams, fantasies of sex cloud my judgment. I think of those happy moments in the past when I was free to experience erections and intercourse but now my trapped manhood only throbs and protests, reminding me of my wife's power and my new priorities. If she finds it pathetic how many times a day I timidly approach her with blushing cheeks, begging to taste her sweetness, she makes no mention of it. Instead she generously pulls aside her clothing, and allows me to work at the only task I was ever any good at. Bringing her pleasure.