The bedroom was softly lit, the glow of the bedside lamp casting warm shadows across the room. Twenty-eight-year-old Peter adjusted his tie nervously in the mirror, glancing back over his shoulder at his wife, Victoria.
She was seated at her vanity, her tight red dress draped over the back of the chair as she idly applied some blush.
“I really don’t feel like going tonight,” she said with a sigh, setting the brush down and meeting his eyes in the mirror.
Peter turned to her, his voice almost pleading. “Come on, Victoria. It’s the company Christmas party. It means a lot to me if you’re there.”
She raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Your work parties are always the same. Boring small talk, cheap wine, and you trying to impress your boss while I stand there making awkward conversation.”
Peter stepped closer, resting his hands on her shoulders. “It won’t be like that this time. Everyone’s going to be there, and my new boss Richard’s been talking about it for weeks. I really need to make a good impression.”
Victoria tilted her head, her lips curling into a small smirk. “And what’s in it for me?” she teased, her tone light but laced with an edge of challenge.
Peter hesitated, knowing where this was going. “What do you mean?”
She turned in her chair to face him fully, her expression sly. “You know what I mean, Peter.” Her voice dropped slightly, taking on a more commanding tone. “You want me to go to this party and play the perfect wife? Fine. But you’re going to make it worth my while.”
Peter swallowed hard, his heart pounding. “Victoria, I—”
She held up a hand, silencing him. “I’ll go,” she said, standing up and walking toward the dresser. She opened a drawer, rummaging for a moment before pulling out a sleek, metallic chastity belt. It gleamed in the light, its design more intricate and formidable than anything he’d seen before.
Peter’s eyes widened. “Is that… new?”
Victoria grinned, holding it up so the steel caught the light. “It is. Titanium alloy. Unbreakable. State-of-the-art security.” She gave him a pointed look. “If you want me to go to this party, you’re wearing it tonight.”
“Victoria, I don’t think—”
“Those are my terms,” she interrupted, her tone firm. “You know how much I enjoy having you… secure and focused on my needs. And it’ll make the party so much more fun for me, knowing exactly how powerless you are.”
Peter hesitated, his pride warring with the desperate need for her to agree. After a moment, he nodded, his voice barely above a whisper. “Okay.”
“Good boy,” she said, her smile widening.
Victoria’s commanding presence filled the room as she held the sleek titanium chastity belt in her hands, the metallic sheen catching the soft glow of the bedside lamp. Her eyes, a mix of amusement and control, met Peter’s as she gave him a subtle nod toward the bed.
“Sit,” she instructed, her voice low and smooth, with just a hint of playfulness.
Peter hesitated for only a moment before perching on the edge of the bed, his heart thundering in his chest. His hands trembled slightly as he placed them on his thighs, the anticipation thick in the air. Victoria’s lips curved into a faint smirk as she approached him, the belt dangling from her manicured fingers like a symbol of her undeniable authority.
She stepped between his knees, the scent of her perfume intoxicating as she leaned down slightly. The warmth of her body contrasted with the cold, unyielding steel she held in her hands. “You’ve been such a good boy tonight,” she murmured, brushing a stray strand of hair from his forehead. “This is just a little reminder of who’s really in charge.”
Peter swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry. “Victoria, are you sure about—”
“Shh,” she cut him off, her tone both teasing and firm. “I didn’t ask for your opinion, did I?”
He shook his head quickly, his eyes dropping to the belt as she knelt slightly, her fingers deftly positioning it around him. The cool metal made contact with his skin, and he flinched at the unexpected chill. Victoria chuckled softly, the sound dripping with satisfaction.
“Cold, isn’t it?” she said, fastening the belt with a deliberate slowness, as though savouring every second. “Don’t worry, darling. You’ll get used to it soon enough.”
The snug fit of the titanium wrapped around him, its unyielding presence a stark contrast to the vulnerability he felt in the moment. Victoria worked with precision, her fingers grazing his skin lightly as she adjusted the fit, sending tiny jolts of sensation through him.
Then came the sound—the unmistakable click of the lock snapping into place. The sound echoed in the quiet room, carrying with it a finality that sent a shiver racing down Peter’s spine.
Victoria straightened, stepping back to admire her work, her hands resting on her hips. She tilted her head, her eyes glinting with satisfaction. “Perfect,” she said softly, as if to herself. “This one suits you, Peter. Sleek, secure… completely inescapable.”
He shifted uncomfortably, the weight and tightness a constant reminder of his submission. “Are you happy now?”
She chuckled, leaning down to kiss his cheek. “Ecstatic.”
As she slipped into her red dress, Peter couldn’t help but notice the confidence in her movements, the way her eyes sparkled with excitement. She seemed invigorated, her earlier reluctance gone. She placed the two keys to the chastity belt on a necklace around her neck so the keys nestled between her perfect perky breasts.
Peter felt his cock stir inside the chastity belt as his stunning blonde wife finished getting ready for the party while the keys to the chastity belt sat on a necklace around her neck.
When she turned to face him, she looked every bit the picture of elegance and control. “Let’s go,” she said with a mischievous smile. “I wouldn’t want to keep your boss waiting.”
The grand ballroom glowed with festive warmth. Strings of twinkling lights crisscrossed the ceiling, and a massive Christmas tree stood at the far end of the room, adorned with gold and crimson ornaments.
The hum of laughter, clinking glasses, and jazzy carols filled the space. Peter mingled with his colleagues, making sure everyone knew he had come to the party.
Peter looked down at his pants again, ensuring they were baggy enough to conceal the steal chastity belt underneath. He stood near the dessert table, a glass of punch in hand, scanning the crowd.
That’s when he saw them.
Victoria, his wife, stood by the Christmas tree, deep in conversation with Peter’s new boss, Richard. She looked radiant in her crimson cocktail dress, her smile wide, her blonde hair cascading perfectly down her shoulders. But what caught Peter’s attention—and set his stomach twisting—was the sound of her laughter, loud and melodic, ringing out above the crowd.
Richard leaned in closer to her, saying something with a sly grin. Victoria laughed even harder, her hand flying to rest on his forearm as if to steady herself. Peter’s stomach churned as he watched her fingers linger there.
Unable to take it any longer, Peter set his glass down and made his way across the room, forcing a polite smile.
“Ah, Peter!” Richard called out when he noticed him approaching, his voice booming with mock cheer. “We were just talking about you!”
“Oh?” Peter said, his forced grin faltering. His eyes flicked to Victoria, whose hand still rested lightly on Richard’s arm while her other hand fondled the chastity keys between her breasts.
Peter’s cock squirmed within the confines of the chastity cage as his eyes met Victorias who knew she was teasing him in front of his boss.
“Yes,” Victoria chimed in, her tone far too casual. “Richard was just telling me the funniest story about you and the office golf tournament. Apparently, you’re not quite the professional golfer I thought you were.”
Richard laughed heartily. “Not quite? Victoria, he’s about as far from the pro tour as you can get. I was just telling her how Peter managed to hit his own golf cart—twice!”
Peter flushed red, his jaw tightening. “That was an accident,” he muttered.
Victoria giggled, shaking her head. “Oh, darling, you should’ve told me that story. It’s priceless!” She turned back to Richard, her eyes twinkling. “You must have so much fun working with him.”
Richard smirked. “Oh, you have no idea. Between Peter’s golf skills and his endless spreadsheets, he’s always good for a laugh.”
Victoria let out another peal of laughter, tilting her head toward Richard. “Oh, don’t get me started on the spreadsheets! He spends more time organizing his fantasy football league than he does picking out his clothes.”
Peter’s face burned. “Victoria…”
But she wasn’t done. “And you should see him at home, Richard,” she said with a conspiratorial grin. “Last week, I caught him wearing my dressing gown because he said it was more ‘comfortable’ than his own!”
Richard roared with laughter, clutching his sides. “His own wife’s dressing gown? Now that’s a mental image I’ll never forget.”
Victoria joined in, her laughter almost doubling over as she reached out to squeeze Richard’s arm. “It was pink satin! He looked absolutely ridiculous.”
Peter’s stomach knotted as he went bright red in the face with humiliation coursing through him like wildfire. “I don’t think that’s really necessary—”
“Oh, Peter,” Victoria interrupted with a wave of her hand, brushing him off. “Relax, we’re just having a bit of fun.”
“Exactly,” Richard said, smirking at Peter. “You’ve got to lighten up. No wonder Victoria’s laughing—you make it so easy.”
Victoria gave Richard an adoring look, leaning in a little closer. “See? He’s so much more fun than you, Peter. Maybe you should take notes.”
Peter stood there, his fists clenched at his sides, as his wife and his boss laughed together. He felt like an outsider in his own life, trapped in the moment as Victoria leaned further into Richard, completely at ease sharing his most embarrassing secrets.
Peter’s face burned with humiliation as Victoria and Richard shared another laugh at his expense. He shifted uncomfortably, his hands fidgeting at his sides, when Richard suddenly turned to him with that signature smirk—the one that made Peter feel two inches tall.
“Peter,” Richard said smoothly, gesturing toward the bar with a nod of his head. “Be a good sport and grab us a couple of glasses of champagne, would you? Your wife and I are parched.”
Peter blinked, momentarily stunned by the audacity of the request. He glanced at Victoria, hoping for some kind of objection, but instead, she just smiled, her eyes sparkling with amusement.
“Yes, darling,” she said sweetly. “That would be lovely.”
Peter hesitated, his pride warring with the tension of the moment, but he finally gave a stiff nod. “Sure. I’ll be right back.”
As he turned to weave through the crowd toward the bar, he couldn’t shake the heat of humiliation radiating from his chest. His boss—his boss—had just ordered him around in front of his wife, and she hadn’t said a word to stop it. Worse, she’d encouraged it.
Reaching the bar, Peter waited as the bartender poured two glasses of champagne into fluted glasses, the festive cheer of the party around him feeling like a cruel joke. He clenched his jaw as he turned back, carefully balancing the glasses in his hands, and made his way through the crowd.
When he returned to the Christmas tree, he stopped dead in his tracks.
Under the mistletoe that hung just above the edge of the tree, Richard and Victoria stood close together. Far too close. Peter’s heart sank as he saw Victoria tilt her head, and before he could say anything, Richard leaned in, brushing a kiss against her lips.
It was brief—just a second—but it was enough to send Peter’s stomach plummeting.
“What the hell is going on here?” he blurted out, the words escaping before he could stop them.
Victoria turned to him, her face flushed, though whether it was from the kiss or embarrassment, he couldn’t tell. “Oh, Peter, calm down,” she said, her tone dismissive as she waved a hand. “It’s just a Christmas party.”
“Just a Christmas party?” Peter repeated, his voice rising slightly. “I just saw—”
Richard interrupted with a low chuckle, stepping back casually as if nothing had happened. “Relax, Peter,” he said, reaching up to point at the mistletoe hanging above their heads. “It’s tradition. You can’t ignore the mistletoe.”
“It was just a silly kiss, darling,” Victoria added, stepping toward Peter and brushing her hand lightly against his arm. “You’re overreacting.”
Peter looked at her, then at Richard, his mind racing. He wanted to say something—anything—but their nonchalant attitudes made him feel like he was the crazy one for being upset.
Richard smirked, reaching for one of the glasses in Peter’s hand and taking a sip. “Thanks for the champagne, Peter. You’re a real team player.”
Peter noticed Richard’s eyes dart from Peter’s crotch to the necklace around Victoria’s neck.
Peter went red in the face at the thought of his boss discovering Peter was locked in chastity and his wife was wearing the keys around her neck.
Victoria took the other glass with a soft smile, clinking hers lightly against Richard’s. “To Christmas cheer,” she said, her voice light and airy.
Peter stood there, holding nothing but an empty tray, feeling like the floor beneath him had disappeared. The sound of their laughter stung his ears as they sipped their drinks, leaving him to stew in his growing sense of humiliation and helplessness.
The door to their house clicked shut behind them as Peter and Victoria stepped into the quiet, dimly lit foyer. The ride home had been tense for Peter, the events of the company Christmas party replaying in his mind on an endless loop. He had stayed silent, trying not to think about the way Victoria had laughed with Richard, the brief kiss under the mistletoe, or how powerless he had felt all evening.
Some of his colleagues probably saw that kiss he thought to himself as he couldn’t stop replaying the kiss in his head.
Victoria, by contrast, seemed relaxed and glowing. She slipped off her heels with a sigh and stretched, her crimson cocktail dress still clinging perfectly to her figure. “Well, that was fun,” she said breezily, heading toward the living room.
“Fun?” Peter repeated, his tone sharper than he intended as he followed her.
Victoria gave him a sidelong glance, a smirk tugging at her lips. “Oh, don’t start, Peter. It was a Christmas party. Lighten up.”
Peter clenched his jaw but let it go for the moment. Instead, he turned his attention to the nagging thought that had been bothering him since they left the party. He glanced at her neck, noticing for the first time that her usual necklace was missing. His stomach sank.
“Victoria,” he said carefully, his voice tinged with unease, “where’s your necklace?”
She stopped mid-step, glancing down as if she had only just realized it was gone. “Oh, the necklace?” she said, feigning casualness. “It broke at the party.”
Peter’s eyes widened. “It broke?” he repeated, his heart racing.
She nodded, turning to face him fully. “Yes. One of the links snapped when I was adjusting it. Don’t worry; Richard said he knew someone who could fix it, so I gave it to him.”
Peter’s mouth went dry. “You… you gave it to Richard?”
Victoria raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by his reaction. “Yes, Peter. It’s not a big deal. He said he’d have it fixed in a few days.”
Peter took a shaky step forward, his voice dropping to a panicked whisper. “Victoria, does he know what the keys are for?”
Her lips curled into a teasing smile, and she tilted her head slightly. “Of course not, Peter. Do you really think I’d tell him that?” She laughed softly, shaking her head.
Peter’s shoulders sagged in momentary relief, but his nerves still buzzed. “Are you sure? What if he figures it out? What if he—”
“Peter,” she interrupted, her tone both soothing and patronizing as she stepped closer to him. She placed a hand on his chest, her nails lightly brushing his shirt. “Relax. It’s just a necklace to him. He has no idea what the keys are for.”
Peter nodded, though his anxiety didn’t fade completely. “Still, I don’t like that he has it. How long did he say it would take?”
Victoria shrugged, her expression playful. “A few days. Maybe a week.”
“A week?” Peter’s voice cracked, panic creeping back into it.
“Oh, Peter,” she said with a laugh, stepping back and heading toward the stairs. “You’re such a worrier. It’ll be fine. Richard’s just helping out. You should be grateful he’s so generous.”
As she disappeared up the stairs, Peter stood frozen in the foyer, the weight of the chastity belt suddenly feeling heavier than ever. The thought of Richard—his boss, who had openly flirted with his wife all evening—holding the key to his most intimate secret was almost too much to bear.
And Victoria’s nonchalant attitude only made it worse.
Later that night, Peter lay on his side of the bed, staring at the ceiling as Victoria lounged beside him, scrolling through her phone. The room was quiet save for the soft hum of the heater, but Peter’s thoughts were anything but calm. He couldn’t shake the images of the evening—Richard’s confident smirk, the way Victoria had laughed at his jokes, the brief but searing kiss under the mistletoe.
Beside him, Victoria’s phone chimed softly. She glanced at the screen, and a small, knowing smile played on her lips. She typed a quick reply before setting the phone back on her lap.
“What’s so funny?” Peter asked, his voice tinged with nervousness.
“Oh, just thinking of something funny from earlier on,” she replied breezily, her eyes still on the screen.
Peter shifted uneasily but said nothing. He didn’t notice the sly glance she cast his way before she resumed her texting.
Richard: Did you make it home okay? Not that I’m worried. You seem like the type who can handle anything.
Victoria: Oh, I’m perfectly capable… but it’s nice to know you care 😉.
Richard: Only about the important things. Like making sure you’re not too bored with Peter tonight.
Victoria: Bored? Well, let’s just say tonight had its… highlights.
Richard: Highlights like mistletoe? Funny, I can’t stop thinking about that.
Victoria: Mistletoe is a dangerous tradition… especially with the right company.
Richard: And was I the right company?
Victoria: Let’s just say you made quite the impression.
Victoria stared at her phone, her cheeks flushed and her pulse quickening. She bit her lip as she read over their conversation.
“Who are you talking to?” Peter whined at Victoria as she put down her phone and turned to her caged husband.
“Oh, nobody,” she responded casually, a mischievous glint in her eye, as her soft, delicate hand began fondling his balls.
“You know,” she continued, her voice taking on a dreamy quality, “Richard really is something, isn’t he?”
Peter tensed as her fondling made his cock harden in the chastity belt as he blushed and panted out “What do you mean?”.
She smiled, propping herself up on one elbow as she fondled his balls knowing it would make Peter so horny. “He’s just so tall, so muscular… and those eyes.” She chuckled softly. “He’s quite handsome, don’t you think?”
Peter’s stomach churned, jealousy rising like bile in his throat. “I—I hadn’t noticed,” he said stiffly, his voice strained from how turned on he was getting by her ball-handling skills.
Victoria laughed, reaching over to pat his arm. “Oh, Peter, don’t be like that. You know I only have eyes for you.” She paused her massaging of his balls, her smile turning sly. “Oh, and I exchanged numbers with him, by the way.”
“What?” Peter’s voice shot up an octave as he turned fully toward her. “Why?”
“For the necklace, of course,” she said nonchalantly, reclining back onto her pillow. “I figured it would be easier to follow up directly with him. He’s such a sweetheart for offering to help.”
Peter stared at her, his mind racing as she turned off the bedside lamp, then took his hand and rolled him over on top of her.
“Just because you can’t have any action tonight doesn’t mean I can’t,’ she whispered in Peter’s ear as she pushed him down between her legs.”
Peter began to kiss her thighs and slowly work his way up towards her pussy. He felt his cock harden inside the chastity belt as Victoria moaned in response to Peter’s tongue entering her wet pussy as he started to suck on her clit.
All Peter could think about was his wife flirting with his boss and the kiss they had shared under the mistletoe.
Soon, Victoria was getting louder and louder as she approached orgasm. Her hand gripped Peter’s hair firmly.
She let out a massive orgasm, and Peter could have sworn he heard the word ‘Richard’ leave her mouth as she climaxed, but he couldn’t believe it—whether she actually had said it or if he was just imagining things.”
She pushed Peter away as she lay panting in the bed. Peter climbed back up to his side of the bed in disbelief of what had transpired today.
His wife had locked him in chastity, flirted and kissed his boss and made him eat her out to a massive orgasm, while she screamed out another man’s name.”
Peter felt his cock twitch inside the steel chastity belt. He felt like Victoria might have a few things planned involving the chastity belt and his boss, Richard. He was just going to have to wait and find out what was going to happen next.
