Husband in Training Pt. 03

Part 3: Some Work From Home Fun

Heather sipped her coffee at the kitchen table, her mind humming with excitement. A fresh text thread with Amber was open on her phone, and she scrolled up, rereading the messages from the night before. After yesterday's steamy evening encounter with Art, Heather had been buzzing and texted Amber more details.

Heather: OMG it worked SO well. ???? I did exactly what you said. I told him about the big cock I saw at the bar and I sat on his face to make him eat his cum like you suggested. He went CRAZY for it. I even came so hard just from him licking it up!

Amber: Yesss!!! That's amazing, babe! I'm so proud of you two. How did he handle the talk?

Heather: He was shy but so turned on. I made him say I deserve it... that I deserve to be stretched by a big cock. ???? He got all whimpery and desperate. It was adorable and so hot at the same time.

Amber: Hahaha yes. That's exactly what you want. Positive reinforcement for the fantasy. Did he cum?

Heather: Twice, but both ruined orgasms. I really don't let him properly cum anymore He was shaking. It was incredible.

Amber: Perfect. Denial + mind games = powerful combo. You're a natural at this, Heather.

Heather: Thank you ???? I feel surprisingly powerful. And so turned on. Any suggestions for daytime today, neighed of us have many meetings, so it might be a good time to take advantage.

Heather grinned at the memory of her own giddiness. Amber had mentioned she quite a few suggestions for "daytime training" and Heather was curious.

Amber: Since you're both at home, keep him on his toes. Randomly call him in during the day for quick "training breaks." For example, text him to come to you, then make him kneel while you tease him with your feet, fingers, or ass. Or tell him to put on the cuffs under his clothes to wear during work as a reminder. Mix it up! And praising him when he listens will reinforce the behavior.

Amber: Also, maybe have me casually stop by? I'd love to say hi (innocently) and see his reaction. Could be a thrill for him to interact knowing I cuck my husband.

Heather tapped her manicured nails on the table, thinking. The idea of spontaneously interrupting Art's work with little training sessions made her smirk. She could already imagine him blushing and stammering on a work call, knowing his thigh cuffs might be hidden under his shorts, or perhaps putting a plug in his ass at her direction... The possibilities were endless.

Heather: I like all of those ideas, I'll use some during the work day. I especially like the idea of you coming over. But maybe after work, for a few drinks on the porch? We've been loving our Aperol spritzes lately.

Amber: Sounds wonderful. How about 6:00?

Heather: That's perfect!! See you then babe!

She finished her coffee and stood, smoothing her for-fitting black leggings and oversized sweater that slipped off one shoulder. Casual, but the leggings hugged her ample curves in a way she knew drove Art to distraction.

It was time for surprise number one of the day. Heather fetched a few items from their bedroom: Art's black leather collar, his wrist and thigh cuffs, and a blindfold. She fingered the collar's leash thoughtfully. Amber had been right -- incorporating these little symbols of his submission during mundane activities could deepen his conditioning.

Heather padded quietly upstairs to Art's office. The door was slightly ajar. Peeking in, she saw Art at his desk with headphones on, eyes on his computer screen. He looked so focused and professional in this setting -- but Heather knew underneath that desk he was still locked up like her obedient pet. The thought made her smile devilishly.

She pushed the door open without a sound and stepped in. Art didn't notice her at first. His back was turned, and she could see he indeed had put on his comfy black hoodie and olive green athletic shorts for the day. He likely assumed work time would be normal, at least for a few hours. Poor thing, Heather thought with a silent chuckle. He has no idea.

Heather crept up until she was to the right of his chair. She could hear the faint tinny sound of someone talking on his headset -- a meeting of some sort. Even better, she mused.

Leaning down, she used her hands to gesture to him and whispered, "Don't react. Keep looking at the screen."

Art jolted slightly in surprise, but upon hearing her voice he obediently kept his eyes forward. Heather could see the side of his face turning red. He hadn't heard her come in.

She knelt down, positing herself under his desk before gently touching his thighs as she hiked his shorts up each one. Caressing his cage through his shorts, she gave him a slight tease using her fingers and pretty nails. Then, she slowly fastened each of his thigh cuffs in place.

Art inhaled at the feel of cool leather. Heather fastened the buckle of each snugly, her touch tinged with playfulness. She crawled out from underneath the deck and back to his side, gesturing to turn off his camera. Then, taking his headphones off one of his hears, she whispered: "Tell them you have to go talk to a contractor who's here to fix our AC... that you have to go off camera, but you can listen and still be semi-present."

Art nodded and obeyed. His heart hammered. As soon as he was done, Heather put his collar around his neck and fastened it snugly. She draped the leash over the back of his chair, then slid her hands down his shoulders. "Stand up and step away from the desk," she commanded quietly.

Art obeyed, carefully, making sure his mic was muted while he got up. Off-screen on the call, he could faintly hear a coworker droning about quarterly plans. It felt surreal given what was happening in his home office. He stepped back, guided by Heather tugging gently on the leash.

She turned his chair so it was out of the webcam's view, just in case the camera was turned on somehow, then guided Art to an open area of the room. "On your knees," she instructed in that low, irresistible tone. "Wrists, please, pet," she said as she fastened each of his wrist cuffs on.

Art sank to his knees on the carpet, eyes wide and face flushed. Heather stood over him, the leash now in her hand. His gaze traveled up her figure: those skintight leggings highlighting the gorgeous curvy thighs he worshipped, the loose sweater slipping off one smooth shoulder, her pretty face looking down at him with a mix of affection and wicked intent.

"How's your meeting, baby?" Heather asked airily, as if nothing were amiss. She gave a tiny tug on the leash, causing the collar to press and remind him of its presence.

"F-fine," Art whispered back, hoping the microphone on his headset wouldn't pick up his voice from this distance. His knees tingled where they pressed the carpet; the position made him instantly submissive.

Heather slowly circled him, trailing the leash around his body. "I thought you could use a little break," she said softly. "You've been working so hard... and being such a good pet for me." She leaned down, fingers under his chin to tilt his head up. She planted a slow kiss on his lips, one that made Art's toes curl and his cock cage tighten. It was sweet and unexpected, contrasting with the taboo riskiness of the situation.

Art melted into the kiss, forgetting his meeting entirely for a second. Heather broke it and caressed his cheek. "I love you, pet" she whispered, genuine warmth in her eyes. Then, with a sly grin, she added, "And I love training you."

Art exhaled a shaky breath. "I love you too, Mistress" he whispered back immediately. His heart swelled. These soft moments of tenderness amidst the erotic games kept him grounded -- he knew, no matter how far they took their play, their bond was strong.

Heather's smile lingered, then she straightened. "Here's what's going to happen now," she said, voice hushed but firm. "I'm going to blindfold you." She produced a soft black blindfold from her sweater pocket. It had padding and an elastic strap. "I want you to just kneel here and focus on feeling what I do. Can you do that, Art?"

Art's breathing quickened. Being blindfolded would heighten everything -- and add to his sense of surrender. He nodded. "Yes, Mistress."

Heather slipped the blindfold over his eyes, plunging Art into darkness. His other senses immediately sharpened. He felt the gentle weight of the collar on his neck, the cool air on his skin, the distant voice of a coworker through his headset on the floor (someone was asking if he'd dropped off the call entirely, but he didn't care).

Heather moved behind him. Art could smell a hint of her perfume as she leaned in. "Hands at your sides," she murmured. He complied, as she hooked the wrist cuffs to the thigh cuffs.

Then Heather's hands were on him. She ran her nails lightly down the back of his neck and along his shoulders underneath his hoodie. Art shivered. Her touch was electric without sight. She drifted lower, over his chest, even pinching lightly at his nipples underneath his hoodie. Art sucked in a breath at the sudden spark of pain-pleasure.

"I love how sensitive you are," Heather whispered right by his ear. Her tongue gently circled the lobe, making him jolt. She giggled under her breath. She took her hands out os his sweater and knelt down to his level before running her nails over his cock cage underneath his athletic shorts. Art bit his lip. What was she going to do?

He felt her tug his shorts downward just enough to expose his chastity cage and pull it over the shorts to keep the down. Heather's fingers grazed his swollen, imprisoned shaft. Art let out a strangled groan.

"Hush now," Heather soothed, though her tone was teasing. "We don't want your colleagues hearing something naughty, do we?" She wrapped her hand around the cage, squeezing slightly. Art whimpered, hips instinctively trying to thrust for more sensation but finding little. She giggled as the cage kept him maddeningly restricted.

Heather stroked the exposed part of him -- just the tip of his strained member peeking through the cage -- with an almost feather-light touch. "Does that feel good on your small cock, baby?" she purred.

"Yes... yes, Mistress," Art breathed. It was agonizing in the best way. He craved more friction, but she refused to give it. Instead, she alternated between tracing the outline of his confined shaft and cupping his balls, rolling them gently in her palm.

"You're getting so eager," Heather said, noting how his body trembled. "Poor thing, you haven't had a proper orgasm in what, days now?"

Art nodded frantically. He'd had only ruined organs since Heather started asking him to lock up his cock more frequently to build the habit, which was about two weeks now -- and it was all orchestrated by her. Not a single satisfying release. His need was intense, but it fueled his submission.

Heather clicked her tongue in mock sympathy. "Aww, I know. But this is for your own good, pet. The longer you wait, the more appreciative you are." She stood up suddenly, turned around, and used his leash to guide his ace into her ass. "Sniff, pet," she instructed.

As he took in her scent, Art's mind became hazy.... sinking deeper into a submissive headspace.

"We're training that little cock of yours to enjoy denial, aren't we?" Heather quipped.

Art felt another wave of submissive arousal crash over him. Her words wrapped around his mind like silk, reinforcing the idea that yes, this was his new normal -- being kept on edge to make him a better pet. "Yes, Mistress," he moaned softly.

"Thank me for keeping your little cock locked," she cooed in his ear.

"Ughhh.. thank you for keeping my cock locked..." he replied the words almost a groan.

"Mmmm... you forgot a key word, baby -- try again," she purred.

Her words caused his cage to become even tighter as he repeated her mantra again, this time making sure to call his own cock little. Heather's hand left him suddenly, and Art almost whimpered at the loss. He heard her moving -- then felt the warmth of her body as she stepped in front of him.

A moment later, something soft and slightly damp pressed against his lips. She was pressing her panties to his mouth. Art could smell her arousal on the fabric -- she must be wet from teasing him.

"Open," Heather commanded quietly. Art opened his mouth and she slipped the wadded panties in as a gag. The taste of her essence faintly coated his tongue. His cock strained within its cage. This was new -- Heather hadn't gagged him with her panties before -- but it sent him deeper into subspace. He was utterly at her mercy and he loved it.

Heather tugged the leash, forcing him to shuffle forward on his knees a few inches. He could sense her towering over him. Then, he felt it: the heat of her core brushing his face. She was standing so close that his blindfolded face was nearly against her pelvis. She must be completely nude from the waist down now he thoughts.

"Since you've been so good," Heather breathed, "I'm going to use your face for a little fun." One of her hands slid into his hair, gripping firmly. The scent of her arousal was now unmistakable and overwhelming -- musky, sweet, intoxicating. Art's head spun.

She guided him down to the floor and sat on his face, his nose bumped against her moist, swollen labia. Heather let out a shaky moan at the contact. "Mmm, yes..." she hissed, guiding him. "Would you like to lick me, pet?"

Though his mouth was half-gagged by her panties, he eagerly groaned the closest thing he could to "Yes please, Mistress!"

She giggled at the sight of his desperation, "Heheh that's a good pet.... but not yet. Just lie there while I have some fun."

She started grinding against his face, pulling his leash in one hand for balance and grabbing his hair with the other. Art felt her wetness smear across his nose, lips, and chin. His world was nothing but her heat, the needy sounds she made, and the ache in his own denied cock.

She continued sliding her perfect pussy over his face, making it wetter and wetter as she worked herself up. "Because your little cock has to stay locked up, I just have to use your pretty face for my pleasure," she declared. "I wish I had a big cock to fill me up... like the one I saw at the bar -- you remember, don't you baby?"

"Hngggmhh," he replied in desperation. He could feel his cock leaking precum in its cage.

"But I'll just have to settle for your tongue right now, I guess," she said as she leaned off his face momentarily to remove her panties that were gagging his mouth.

"Lick me, pet," she directed. His tongue found her folds and he lapped at them gently but fervently, tasting her sweetness. The blindfold made every drop of her flavor, every one of her gasps above him that much more vivid.

"That's it... good pet," Heather panted. She rolled her hips gently, letting his nose nuzzle her clit while his tongue explored her entrance. "You love being my little toy, don't you? Letting me use your face like this while you stay all locked up... and hearing about the big cocks I deserve?" Her voice was breathy, each word punctuated by a soft whimper as pleasure mounted within her.

Art groaned into her pussy, the vibrations making Heather shiver. He nodded slightly, overwhelmed by the scent and the honor of being used for her pleasure. This was exactly where he wanted to be -- where she wanted him.

Heather's grip in his hair tightened almost painfully. "I'm getting close pet... Don't you dare stop," she warned, voice hitching.

Art redoubled his efforts, tongue swirling, pressing into her as far as he could, then up to flick her swollen clit. Heather cried out, quickly muffling herself by biting down. Even though Art's mic was muted, the fact that the meeting was still going made both of them try to be careful to keep quiet. The riskiness only seemed to excite her more.

With a strangled moan, Heather's thighs clenched around Art's head. Her entire body shuddered. Art felt a fresh wave of her arousal coat his tongue as she came hard against his face. Heather's muffled cry of release was the most beautiful sound Art had ever heard. He continued to lap gently, helping her ride it out until she finally pulled back, breathing heavily.

She panted for a few moments, one hand braced on his shoulder to steady herself. Art waited, blindfolded, heart pounding with pride that he had pleased her. His own need was now screaming -- his cock felt like it was on fire in its tight cage, desperate for any friction -- but he kept still, focused on Heather's satisfaction first.

After a minute, Heather carefully removed the blindfold from his eyes. Art blinked up at her. She looked absolutely radiant: cheeks flushed, eyes bright, a thin sheen of sweat on her brow. She'd tossed her sweater off at some point; from his knees he had a glorious view of her bare hips and the lower curve of her breasts above her clasped bra.

Heather grinned down at him lazily, still catching her breath. "You did so well, pet," she murmured, caressing his face. She used her thumb to wipe some of her own wetness from his chin, then brought that thumb to his lips. Art obediently sucked it clean, tasting her tang once more.

"Thank you, Mistress," he said quietly, voice full of earnest gratitude. His face was soaked with her wetness and he couldn't have been happier -- or more desperate.

Heather bent and kissed him deeply then, unfazed by tasting herself on his lips. She took his collar and wrist cuffs off. When she finally pulled back, he realized with a start that his headset was faintly crackling -- someone was saying his name. The meeting!

Heather heard it too. She gave a soft laugh. "Oops. Looks like break time's over, baby." She reached over and picked up the headset, slipping it back on his head. Art hurriedly fumbled to turn his camera back on and unmute, praying no one had noticed his absence.

By the time Art managed a strained, "Sorry, I'm here -- slight technical difficulties," into the mic, Heather had already gathered her panties and blindfold and was slipping out the office door.

Art's coworkers apparently accepted his excuse, and the meeting droned on. He tried to focus, but his entire body was humming. He could hardly sit back in his chair properly as he felt the wet precum in his pants -- his locked cock had leaked a ton while Heather was using him.

The taste of Heather lingered in his mouth, the scent of her on his skin, the ache of unreleased pleasure like a heartbeat in his groin. He felt utterly conditioned -- Pavlov himself couldn't have done better -- his arousal was so completely tied to obeying his wife.

Back in the kitchen, Heather adjusted her clothes and shot off a quick text to Amber with a grin on her face:

Heather: We just did a quick mid-morning session while he was on a work call ???? I am DYING it was so hot. I might've... jumped him and used his mouth to get off. He's beyond wound up now, poor thing. ????

Amber: Hahaha OMG Heather!! You're a wild woman. That's AMAZING. How did he do?

Heather: He was perfect. Kneeled, blindfolded, let me use his mouth... I came so hard. He's literally shaking trying to work now I bet.

Amber: ???????? That's so hot! You're really leaning into this, huh?

Heather: I love it. And he does too. I can tell. The way he looks at me... ugh it's just so good.

Amber: Yay!! So happy for you guys. Keep him on edge. Maybe make him wait longer for any release. Builds character... and conditioning ????

Heather: Definitely. Also... about you stopping by. What did you have in mind?

Amber: Up to you! If you think he can handle seeing me, I'd just come by for some drinks... maybe I can slyly mention the guy I'm seeing that's not Mike... to see if he notices. Maybe I can wear Mike's key round my neck, too?

Heather: Fuck yes! I love that -- I think it could be good. I suspect seeing the key and hearing that might drive him wild.

Amber: Hehe I bet. Men get so easily flustered. Let's do it.

Heather set her phone down, heart skipping with anticipation. This would be the first time Amber and Art interacted since this training began. Heather trusted Amber completely -- and she trusted Art, but she also understood how huge this would feel for him.

A rush of protectiveness and excitement washed over her. She'd be sure to make it casual and light, as promised -- a normal friendly visit on the surface.

But underneath? It was another step in dissolving Art's inhibitions and building their fantasy into reality.

[To be continued...]