The Secret Life of John and Sara, 10

This is Part Ten of The Secret Life of John and Sara, started here.

The Secret Life of John and Sara is based on a true story. I’ve fictionalized it to protect the identities of my friends John and Sara, whose ‘secret life’ is secret for a very good reason. John is a Silicon Valley CEO, a sissy and a cuckold, and Sara is a 40-something nymphomaniac Nurse Administrator. Here is their story:

I wasn’t quite sure how things would go forward for the evening, but I wanted to make sure to lay some groundwork. I told John that if they were ever going to have a normal sex life again then he needed to re-establish himself as a sexual object in Sara’s eyes regardless of how he was dressed — and that was where I would come in. I told him that no matter what happened, no matter what Sara said, he was not to follow her orders, but mine. He had to stop being submissive to Sara. If she gave him a command, he was to look very pointedly at me, and follow my directions, no matter what.

Sara called when she was on her way home from work. We chatted for a few minutes and she asked after John. I knew she was probably wondering if he’d exposed himself as a cross-dresser or not, and I decided to let her think he hadn’t. I told her he was being an excellent host and ended the call with the anticipation of having lots to talk about when she arrived.

She walked in on me and John on the couch. He was laying on his back wearing a bra and panties, thigh-high stockings, and heels. I was straddling him in my full Domme-gear, including the holster strapped to my thigh with a dildo stuffed in it. She gasped and we both turned to look at her.  His hair was in my fist and his lipstick was smudged and he didn’t have to pretend to be alarmed. Me, I grinned at Sara, told her she had an amazingly sexy husband, and asked if I could have the key to his cock-lock, seeing as she didn’t seem to have use for his cock anymore and I was interested to find out how well it worked after several weeks of forced chastity.

Sara’s jaw dropped. So did her purse and her keys. She staggered over to a chair and sat down, staring. Staring.

John and I sat there in our clinch on the couch, waiting. How was Sara going to react?

To be continued tomorrow…